Redwall Abbey

This is a little like the "Choose Your Own Adventure" thread Rrrrr made. Here's how this will work. I'll set the scene, and at the end, ask a question ("what do you do" or some variant; it will be in blue). You (you being the first member who comes along) post a response. (Post what you like here, but if you take an action, it must be in the form of an attempt. You can, for example, swing a sword at somebody, but not automatically lop their arm off.) Then I'll respond accordingly and continue developing the story. Y'all play a vermin horde leader attacking Redwall Abbey. Try to keep the main character's motivations relatively consistent with previous posts.

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After a long day's march, you finally see the building ahead in the distance. The famous Redwall Abbey. Darkfang, your second-in-command grins maliciously. "'ere it is, chief, just like 'ey said." Your minions behind you see it as well, and start to murmur appreciatively. You glance back at them. Five hundred strong, mostly rats, with the odd ferret, weasel or stoat. All hardened killers, armed to the teeth, ready for loot and plunder, and loyal to you. Or at least afraid of you, which is just as good.

You assess yourself. It wouldn't do to look anything less than imposing when the inevitable encounter with the woodlanders comes. Your garb looks suitably barbaric, and the blood red cape slung over your shoulders only adds to the effect. Your armor-bearer, a stupid, but stout stoat, is carrying all of your gear... save your weapon of choice, which, for obvious reasons, you prefer to keep at paw.

(By the way, what kind of a creature does that paw belong to?)

A female fox.

You were always the most cunning in your litter, and everyone knew it, even that oaf of a brother Firecoat. It wasn't easy, coming from a poor community of gypsy foxes, but you found a way to the top. You took advantage of your siblings' strengths and were able to cajole, browbeat, and bribe your way into leading a small band of vermin. One thing led to another. Now, you have your own horde to run as you please.

The Abbey is likely about an hour's march away. The sun is high in the sky; you estimate it to be about mid-day. You recall the chief forager telling you this morning that the troops are provisioned for two more days. You have no heavy war equipment, but have ample tools and weapons to put any plan your agile mind can devise into effect. The forest surrounds you and provides cover for potential maneuvering. If your troop continues down the road, however, you will likely be spotted soon. That could be to your advantage, though; your band is as hardened as they come and the sight of them might lend to intimidation value.

You decide it's time to reveal the next part of your plan. You halt the horde, and bid your officers to attend you.

Darkfang looks your direction expectantly. "Orders, chief?"

Surround the abbey out of sight within the treeline. Capture anyone coming in or going out and preventing them from telling the abbey. Thereby staying unnoticed for as long as possible.

Camp in the woods near the Ruins of St. Ninians and recruit all the nearby vermin. Send food and hordemembers to the woodlanders to persuade them to our side.

(By "woodlanders, I'm assuming you mean the ones in the forest.)

You nod. "We're dividing the horde into several groups. Take some good vermin who can keep themselves hidden and surround the Abbey. Camp there overnight and capture anybeast you see coming to or from there. Don't let yourselves be seen, and don't kill anyone; I want prisoners, not crowmeat." Darkfang looks disappointed, but agrees. "Aye, chief."

You motion to another of your officers, a massive weasel. "Milkeye. Take a hundred and scour the woods for vermin. Tell them that if any of you find woodlanders, leave them alone. I've got a special plan for them. When the sun is about to set, take your band and anybeast you find to those ruins we passed earlier and camp there for the night."

You glance at Ravenshade, a sly-looking ferret. "Get some vermin who can speak well and some supplies from Barburn's foragers and go through the woods. If you find any woodlanders, offer them the food in exchange for their help. I'm sure you'll know how to make use of them. When you're done, meet the recruiters at the ruins."

"Barburn, do what you're used to doing. Bring back as much as you can to provide for the extra troops I'm hoping to get. Keep track of where all of you are going and let me know if you find anything unusual. Figure out how much food the group guarding the abbey will need and send part of your group there to stay with them for the night. The rest should go to the ruins to meet our main body."

"Scarface. Take half of the vermin that're left after these others are gone and go straight to the ruins. Set up camp there for everyone."

After issuing these orders and sending the groups off, you're left with about fifty vermin to attend you. What are you going to do with the next few hours?

Sleep and eat.

Having exerted yourself by deploying your troops, you sit down under a nearby tree and drape the bottom half of your cape over your body. Your armor-bearer looks at you somewhat quizzically, but doesn't say anything. You motion the most senior officer left, a rat named Afrig, over to you. "Take the remaining troops off the road to rest. Make sure they're well-hidden in the forest nearby. If somebeast comes along, wait for me to call you before you do anything to stop them."

You tell the stoat carrying your gear to sit down beside you, which he does, apparently grateful for the break. After taking your pack from him and opening it, you dig out a couple of fish and miscellaneous greenery (which you recognize as being both medicinally useful and good for helping your coat remain lustrous). You make quick work of your repast, and lay back against the tree. It isn't the most comfortable sleeping arrangement you've ever had, but it isn't the worst either. You trust the stoat, who is loyal even if a bit short of wits, to protect you, but even so you keep one eye open and a paw near your weapon.

Since the subject came up, what's that weapon happen to be?

Sword.

Your curved sword is a trusty weapon, light and well-balanced enough to give you a fair chance in any fight. Firecoat had sneered and asked if you'd "lost track o' your brains" when he found out you had traded your axe for it. What he didn't realize is that this weapon was made by a master bladesmith, not like any of the weapons that could be found near your clan's dens. The young ferret you got it from had claimed that it was part of the loot from a fight with some hares from the Fire Mountain, and you didn't doubt it. You've dispatched more than a few enemies with this blade, but it looks just as new now as the day you first saw it.

The sun beats down on you. You put your pack under your head, and drift off into a light doze.

Some time later, you suddenly come awake. You see something moving out of the corner of your eye. You turn your head and see an otter. They seem surprised to see you. You notice a large pack on their back, and a walking stick in their right paw.

What do you do?

BIC: Wait for him to get closer, then tackle him and prevent him from calling out.

(Sorry, you edited it after I wrote the description. Better luck next time.)

You poise yourself to move. The otter seems in no rush to come your direction. He starts to say something, but you take the initiative and leap towards him. He's quick with his paws, and his stick catches you midway, in the ribs. However, it doesn't stop your momentum completely, and you crash into him. You were never the burliest or most physical fox, but you manage to hit him hard enough to knock both of you down to the ground.

You hear your armor-bearer grunt as he gets up on his feet. He should be over where you are in just a few seconds.

You're currently sprawled on the ground next to the otter. You sense he's moving, and is likely to swing out at you any second now.

What now?

Grab his stick quickly and knock him out.

You put your paw out somewhat blindly, grabbing for where you think the stick was. You don't get a good hold on that, but are just in the right place to get hit by a large paw, which slams into your skull. The otter is pretty strong; you don't think you're a good match for him in direct paw-to-paw combat.

You see your armor-bearer standing over both of you, brandishing a spear. He hesitates, apparently unsure about trying to stab the otter with both of you so close together.

You hear something rustle in the woods.

What now?

Order the stoat to knock him out. Then draw your sword and form up your vermin facing the forest, taking care not to be seen by the Redwallians.

You roll to the side, and snap, "Knock him out!" The stoat turns the spear around in his paws and swings the blunt side down. The otter attempts to move out of the way and get his stick out, but nevertheless the weapon solidly connects with his head. He continues to stir, so your stoat hits him again. After that he stops moving.

You rise to your feet as gracefully as you can, dust yourself off, and make a mental note to take some herbs to relieve your splitting headache. You take your sword out of its sheath and call your vermin out of the woods. They come out of their hiding places to you, some of them right where you thought you heard the noise. That might explain it.

Afrig makes a quick bow. "Orders, milady?"

"Form up against that direction," you say, pointing towards where you think the sound came from. "In case we have any unwanted friends lurking in there."

A stupid-looking rat soldier whose name you don't know asks, "Why wouldn't we want friends, milady?"

Cuff him and answer his question. Adding a few "birdbrains". ;D ;D

You whack the rat across the head with the flat of your blade. "Birdbrain! I'm not talking about actual friends, but rather woodlanders spying on us. Don't ask such stupid questions!"

The rat rubs his head, and seems to be on the verge of asking another question, but an apparently more clever friend of his pulls him away from you just in time.

A few more moments pass. You don't hear any further sounds, except your troops muttering to each other. Afrig peers into the woods. "I don't see anything, milady. What do you want us to do?"

Put some watchmen around the area where the sound came from. The watchmen will be changed with fresh hordesbeasts every few hours. A few officers will check the watchmen every thirty minutes to see if they're awake or alive. The horde leader will get some sleep.

Same, but reduce the check time to fifteen minutes.

"Set some guards over there, and check on them every once in a while to make sure they stay awake. Spread the rest of the troops back out in their hidden places in the forest. And get this otter out of the road. Bind and gag him and make sure he stays put."

The officer nods. "It will be done, milady."

With that arranged, you get back to the task of getting some beauty sleep.

Apparently the noise was nothing to be concerned about. No other visitors come, and the day goes by lazily. After a few hours of rest, you get up; it's now late in the afternoon.

If you leave now, you should be able to make it in time to meet the recruiters, scouts and foragers back at the ruins. Alternatively, you could check on the force surrounding Redwall and see what they've found and if they've caught anything. Or, you could do something else entirely.

What will it be?

Meet the recruiters and the like and send the second-in-command, to check on the army around the wall. With orders to tell the forces if they have captured anyone, keep them bound and gagged out of sight of the walls.

(You left Darkfang in command of the force surrounding the wall earlier, with similar orders, so I'll ignore that part.)

You muster your troops without incident, and begin the march back down the road. You have four beasts carry the otter, who's still out of it, and periodically change them out to keep them relatively fresh.

You arrive at the ruins to see a crudely built, but large campgrounds. Several spots for campfires have been set up, and Scarface's vermin are gathering the wood for them.

After a little while, the rest of your army begins trickling in. Milkeye's contingent had some success, picking up about sixty new recruits, a good mix of rats, weasels, ferrets and stoats. They look like they could use a good speech and show of force to enthuse them.

You see a male fox on the outer edges of the group. The stranger is dressed in drab brown robes, but looks confident and moves with poise. He carries a shining double-headed metal axe, quite a bit nicer one than any you've seen recently, and seems experienced with it.

You notice Ravenshade slink into the camp with his creatures. They're empty-pawed.

The foragers aren't back yet, but that isn't unusual, given your orders to bring as much as possible and that the sun hasn't fully gone down yet.

Your guards, no longer necessary for your protection, scatter around across the campsite and help with various work. The otter is laid fairly close to your tent. He seems to be starting to wake up, but is firmly bound and shouldn't be a threat.

What would you like to do now?

Give the new recruits a rousing speech, then go talk to the strange fox, with hostility of course. ;D ;D

You and Milkeye go through the typical recruitment initiation that you've rehearsed. After lots of yelling and throwing some creatures around on his part, and a few flourishes of the sword, a spin of the cape, and a dramatic leap on top of a convenient object from you, it's apparently exciting enough to muster up some cheers. Maybe not your best work, but these don't look like your best recruits either.

Having finished the performance, you make your way over to where the fox stands, casually leaning on his axe. He's taller than you, and looks strong and healthy, with sleek fur. You can see a large number of notches carefully carved into his axe-handle. You might want to be careful around this one.

He sees you coming, and looks you over when you arrive, but doesn't say anything. This gives you the opportunity to speak first.

What would you care to say and/or do?

Ask him who he is, and where he comes from.

Sorry for the long delay.

Just as an aside -- y'all are more than welcome to do some RPing here yourself. The idea isn't just for me to write everything, although I don't mind doing so if that makes y'all the most comfortable. You can write about scenery, your character (the warlady)'s thoughts and/or appearance, and what action she attempts to take in more detail.

Anyway...

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You posture yourself authoritatively, and say, "Who are you, and from where do you come? I'm well acquainted with the fox clans in this part of the country, and I've never seen you before."

"I'm Malcolm," he says, in a refined accent, "A traveller from the deep South. I take it you're the fine beast over this host. I'm always interested in staying acquainted with the affairs of this country, and when your troops went storming through the countryside, I thought it was worth seeing what was underway here. I'm afraid I'm rather hard of hearing, and I might have missed this before, but I must ask you the same question; what is your name?"

Gretla Longtail.

Actually, it was. Upon taking command of the horde by murdering its previous leader and replacing the old officers with your most trusted, you changed your name to represent your rise to power. "Desmonda the Devil" is your name now, seeing that you leave no survivors and show no mercy.

@Sage: I think it's first come, first served.

OOC: Oh well, better luck next time.

OOC: Revive.

*Kick*

OOC: @James Gryphon Will you be able to continue this? If you are not able to, could I?

I did tell you when you asked before that you could; go ahead. ;)