The Hero of Redwall: Haearn Castle

[IronWolf0805]

Haearn Castle

It was a silent night during the early summer season in the highlands far north of Mossflower and beyond the mountains. The moonlight shone bright on the old grey stones that made up the walls of the ancient Haearn Castle. Within, a choir could be heard chanting a solemn tune. It was the tune of a funeral. Lined up there were soldiers, lords, and ladies of all various woodland species with their heads bowed as a casket was carried by 4 otter knights. Resting atop of it lay an old tattered banner bearing the runic symbols of the Oakenbow Clan. Ulfwen Oakenbow was the last of the line of Oakenbow, the ruling family of the northern kingdom for generations. The old mouse lord died quietly in is sleep two nights before. However, he had passed away without any children and his wife had left the world of the living a couple years prior. Across the entire funeral ceremony, there was talk among the castle dwellers of who the heir to the northern throne would be. For old King Ulfwen had yet to declare an heir.

As the funeral came to an end, the castle knights were discussing the matter of an heir. "Word has probably gotten out to the major families by now," one said. "Aye, and you better expect they aren't plannin' to make a civil agreement over who should sit on the throne," said another, "Best we be buckling down and getting ready for a storm to come crashing down upon old Haearn."

Blackstone Abbey

Deep within the Grey Forest to the far north of Castle Haearn, the ominous and mysterious Blackstone Abbey was seeing its usual day to day business. Some of the druids were teaching the young dibbons about the arcane arts of the forest, some brewing odd potions, others attending to the gardens. Suddenly one of the brothers, a middle aged stoat, came rushing in through the gates holding a piece of parchment in his paws, "I must see the abbot at once! I come bearing intriguing news from the highlands!"

Knight Tribe

Along the western coasts of the northlands within the cliffs and caves where Luke the Warrior's tribe once made their homes, a town was bustling with activity. This town was built into the side of the cliffs full of ladders and ramps connecting all the little buildings. The caves had been carved out to make great stone halls and places for the knights of the tribe to smith, train, and drink. In the large center cave, there was a massive crowd of woodland species anxiously waiting to hear the news that the messenger had brought them. The knights stood at attention as the 2nd Marshal of the Knights, Volke Rain, walked to the front of the crowd with a letter in his paws.

Clan McBrice

Far within the highlands rests the tents and current encampment of the warlike McBrice Clan. The warriors of the clan were polishing their broadswords and tightening their bow strings. The clan was preparing to make another raid on a band of vermin to the south so the camp was a hive of activity. A young squirrel shieldmaiden was sprint as fast as her legs could carry her. Jumping over napping warriors and piles of weapons, she made her way to the commander's tent. "M'lord! m'lord! Quick! May I have a word with you?"

[Ashleg]

The stoat was so caught up in his folly that he nearly ran smack into one of the Abbot's closest allies, a towering pine marten with a face like thunder.
This was Brother Tendril.

"I was just keeping my watch when all of the sudden you come running," he sniffed. Llifting his paw, an invasive smirk danced on his face. "Let me see that."

The marten snatched the paper up, held it to his nose, and stared at it cross-eyed for a second before pressing it bodily back into the stoat's chest.

"Yes, yes, you're right! The Abbot will love that. Say! You just tag along behind me and I'll take you to him."

Chuckling, Tendril started off.
"Coming?"

[The Skarzs]

  Rjuffen groaned, and stirred as he awoke to the sound of waves lapping against the shore. . . and the feeling of wet clothes clinging to his soaked fur. The wolf became more aware of himself, feeling the rocky beach beneath his body. He breathed in sharply and got to his feet, almost falling down again as the blood rushed from his head in a bout of dizziness.
  This wasn't the ship, by any means!
  Rjuffen sat down and stared out at the ocean not six feet from him. He began to remember what had happened. The night before- at least, he figured it was the night before- there had been a storm out on the water, and he had been swept overboard by a wave. One of his companions had seen him fall, and threw an oar, or something, to him. Rjuffen remembered calling for help as he watched the ship get pulled further away from him to disappear into the torrential darkness.
  He wasn't sure how he had been able to stay afloat, but he was alive. Lost. Not in the sea, but still far from where he had come, and no idea where he was. Standing up once more, Rjuffen looked about him. It was a very empty beach, no ships nor buildings to be seen. Nothing but rocks and seaweed.

OOC: I suppose he can meet up with the Knight Tribe. BTW, what time of day is it?

[Gonff the Mousethief]

The sudden shock of the maiden's cry shook Ruel from his daily bow polishing. He took a bit to gather what was going, for the vermin had no idea of their upcoming raid; so it must be of some other problem.
"Um, yes Yewla. What is the matter?"
"Just come quick m'lord!" was her sudden reply, dashing back before Ruel could barely leave his chair.

The McBrice clan leader made his way to a small group of Seall foot soldiers, all gathered around the shield maiden Yewla and a taller squirrel, obviously built for the rigorous job of the Seall. 
"My lord, will you be glad to hear of this!" the taller solider spat, smile trekking across his rugged face.
"I hope so Stoven. Now, what is it?"
Yewla once again started to burst out, as a bow pulled back for far too long. "It is about Haearn Castle m'lord! You know, the place all talked up past the mountains? Well, the leader of the place died, ol' Oakbow or something like that. Says the castle be up for grabs now m'lord!"
"Who is saying all of this?" was Ruel's reply, certainly perplexed by the situation.
"One of the merchant bands I did see this morn. She was nothin' but an' ol' fox, seerer probably, but she knew well enough 'bout it." Stoven told back.
Ruel stood amongst his former scout group with a creeping fear rising under his acorn cap. He could tell by their eyes that this was an opportunity, no, a golden one to have a place to settle, to live, to set up a name for themselves. But it all seemed far too daunting for his taste.
"We'll talk more about this after the raid. Promise. Just, don't get any ideas for now. This is a big deal; who knows how many other people and places know about this."
With that, he nodded to the group and booked it back to his tent, deep in thought about the idea of taking Haearen Castle.

OOC: I hope this is okay. Didn't know if you wanted to use the shield maiden or not.

[IronWolf0805]

Volke grunted as he took the big step onto the platform. The whole town looking upon him. His eyes still slurry from waking up not too long before. The messenger had rushed to the manor and hurried him to the great hall to deliver the news to the village. He saluted the knights on the platform and turned to the great host gathered before him. Rubbing his eye with his left paw, he waved with his right proclaiming, "Thank you all for making it out at such an untimely hour," despite it already being an hour past mid day, "I have news from the highlands I'm told." Trying his best to hold back a yawn, he unfolded the letter and began to read it to himself before to the town. As he read it his eyes, suddenly went from half opened and hazy to wide and attentive. He shook his head to make sure he had read the news correctly. Looking up and to those gathered, he began to read, "It is unfortunate that I must inform the Knight Tribe and her ruling family, House Rain, that the King of the Iron Heart, Lord Ulfwen Oakenbow, has passed away only a mere couple days ago in his sleep. The king had not, however, proclaimed an official heir to the throne of the north." There was unsettled murmuring among the town and the knights for several moments. "Order! Order!" shouted Volke now fully awake and aware of the situation, "I will meet with the marshals of the knights and discuss what will be done about this situation. Good day." The villagers dispersed and there was much talk within the town.

Volke hurried to the great manor of his family. It had been the seat of power in the tribe for generations. Dating as far back to Maximus the Ranger and even Marchellius the Paladin. He entered the large meeting room where several hardened and decorated veterans of various woodland species were gathered. He opened up the colossal tall window at the end of the long room as it looked over the rocky sea. Breathing in the salty air he turned to the others and took a seat to the right of the table's end. Leaving the great tall end chair empty. Clearing his throat he said, "My fellow Marshals and Grandmasters, I presume all of you were present at today's newest topic of discussion in the great hall earlier. Well if anyone was not present, the Iron Heart is empty. Castle Haearn rest in the deep highlands without a king watching over the north. You all can probably assume what I suggest we should take advantage of." An old otter resting his paw on a large great sword stroked his beard replying, "I can and did assume as much Marshal Rain. I would find it in the order's favor to take advantage of such an occurrence. However, I personally believe we should wait for the 1st Marshal to return from his warring in the white lands. Assuming Lord Rain would be instated as the king within the Iron Heart." Volke replied saying, "Yes Swordmaster Razu but we cannot pass up another opportunity like this. The McBrices, the Myrandalians, the Tepes, the Voh, they're probably all readying their forces to converge on Castle Haearn. We are one of the stronger and more organized military forces in the north. We can reach it swiftest and hold it the longest. I do not want this to result in a bloody conflict and I will do everything in my power to prevent that. That is what my father would want if he were here." 

OOC: Yeah Skarzs that's fine he can meet up with them. It is around 1pm or reaching mid afternoon. Gonff nah I didn't have anything specific in mind for her so go for it. That's fine ^_^

[The Skarzs]

  Rjuffen took a moment to gather his sense of direction. Looking up at the sun, and its position in the sky, he figured it was some time around noon. And if the sun moved the same as it was back home, then the sea was westward from the land, with the beach stretching to his sides for miles. Hoping his guess was right, and that he was on a continent and not an island, he set off to his right.
  The sun bore down on him, his damp clothes drying from the rays with wisps of steam rising upwards. Rjuffen checked what he had with him as he walked.
  Besides his clothing, the wolf had had little else on him that he could remember when he was swept overboard. The dagger Rjuffen usually carried was no longer in its sheath, and he grimaced at that. However, his sword had miraculously not been lost in the sea during the storm, and he pulled it out and wiped it off on his sleeve, looking at the blade uncertainly. Where was he? Who would he meet? Would he have to fight in this foreign land?
  He remembered his father saying that he would learn by exploring the world.
  "Maybe," Rjuffen muttered. "Or maybe I'll never return home."
  The wolf continued walking for some time, trying not to concentrate on his parched mouth and growling stomach. He looked up to the horizon, noticing the face of some cliffs rising above the beach, with what appeared to be buildings close by. Rjuffen sighed gratefully, but reminded himself that he had yet to know if he was welcome wherever that was.
  He pressed onwards towards it, watching as it grew larger and closer with every step.

[Ashleg]

Up and through dark corridors the stoat and pine marten had walked, until they eventually came to a closed wooden door that made its home at the highest point of Blackstone Abbey.
Behind that door would be the Abbot.

Grinning maliciously, Brother Tendril shoved the stoat forward a step.
"Go on, knock. That is...if you aren't too tired from walking up all those stairs."

Noticing that the messenger wouldn't do it, Tendril shook his head.
"Fine. See, like this."
He rapped on the door twice.

The latch on the door rose and clicked back with nobeast touching it.
The pine marten smiled wide.
"I adore The Superior's magic, don't you? That's him telling you to go inside. Well, go on."

OOC-
Okay, Wolfy, if you'd like to play the stoat that's great.

[Gonff the Mousethief]

The Vermin camp was hardly a task. From the far glance of the Seall and Lord Ruel, only a few rats and stoats were accompanying the large campfire and overturned merchant cart. Many didn't even have weapons equipped. So, with just a flick of his white tipped ears, Ruel positioned each squirrel ready for the attack. Once ready, the Seall went without a signal, as was their tradition. Screams of anguish, fury, and the bloodcurdling war cries of "Seeaaaaallll!" lit up the night sky. Left and right blood was split, some dampening the fire while most flung across the burly weapons and satchels of the McBrice clan. Soon enough the terror ended with Stover giving a lone rat one final breath before his quick journey to Hellgates.

Once back with a small chest full of loot and plunder, buzz was going on about Haearn Castle. Ruel had made his way back to his tent trying to avoid some of the warriors coming up with questions on the news. Once there, he undid his acorn cap and laid his bow by his cot. All sorts of thoughts rushed upon his mind that, if he had not been a steady thinker all his years, would have ruined him. A variety of "How many may die?" and "Would, no, how many opposing forces would there be?" fought for first place on his list of worries. One by one he pushed them aside, gaining a tear with each decision. Oh, he was not cut out for this, not one bit. Not a drop of leadership ran through his veins. However, he was forced to throw that aside, for Yewla stood at his tent opening, smile upon her face.
"M'lord, we've gathered to hear wha' you have on the Castle!"
Ruel nodded carefully, not wanting to give away his choice just yet. Yewla darted out after the reply, shouting from outside to get in order. Oh what a wild mind she was.

The McBrice Clan fell silent as their Lord stepped out of his tent. He was amazed by their enthused eyes and ready feet, all for one single message; a message of hope, new beginnings, and battle.
"Well, um, you all know the news. Castle Haearn is up for the taking. And, well, I do think we have the shot at taking it."
An uproar of excitement flooded the crowd, torrents of cheers, chants of "McBrice! McBrice!" filling the night, just as the vermin screams had only a few hours before.

[IronWolf0805]

Blackstone Abbey

The stoat looked at Brother Tendril with an eyebrow raised. He had been around the abbey for ages but had never himself met the abbot. "Father Abbot?" he asked taking a step through the doorway, "I bring some news from the highlands. It's about Lord Ulfwen Oakenbow! The old king kicked the bucket in his sleep a couple of days ago and never proclaimed an official heir. Now the various families and clans of the northern kingdom ought to be at each others necks for who should rule the north."

Knight Tribe

After several long discussions, the order came to a conclusion. They would march their forces to Castle Haearn, hold it until Lord Rain returned from the White Lands, and surprise him with the throne waiting for him. The marshals began gathering troops from the forts and outposts across the tribe's land. While the grandmasters trained the garrison and squires to have them ready by the time Volke called for the army to move out. The town was soon bustling with activity within the hour. A messenger scurried to Volke's side as he watched over from Rain Manor. "Whats the news?" he said sipping some wine from a flask. The messenger stuttered, " W-well my lord it's a letter from House Voh of Noonvale. They're calling upon the order to answer a call to arms. Lord Voh plans to march upon the iron heart." Volke spat out his drink and replied, "What? I am sincerely insulted. How dare those wealthy stuck up... Do they think just because one of their own was married into House Rain they can just call upon them whenever they please? Go tell House Voh and the rest of the Noonvalers to go sniff the roses or something. Our order will not answer their call." The messenger nodded and quickly hurried off.

[Ashleg]

The gaunt old Abbot stood with his back to the stoat, staring hazily out the window.
He cast a long shadow, and his robes of white and gold silk reflected the light of the many candles that he had stationed around the room.
Flickering, dancing...

The black and white polecat held up a paw but did not turn to face the stoat.
"What do you call yourself?" he rasped.
He seemed to be ignoring the issue at hand.
"I heard Brother Tendril converse with you. Surely you told him how you found this out?"

When he did turn, his dark brown eyes dilated upon locking with those of the other animal.
"Explain."

[IronWolf0805]

Blackstone Abbey

The stoat stood for a moment trying to take in the abbot's room. Shaking his head he snapped back into reality, "I scared off some lumber jacks in the forest and they dropped a letter bearing news that the King is dead without an heir. Surely the noble families will be at each others throats over the throne."

[Ashleg]

"I heard you the first time," snorted Orzmul, making a grab for the note.
"And still you have not answered all my questions. Your name...?"

Paws touched parchment and he yanked back, flipping the paper from the stoat's paws.

[IronWolf0805]

OOC: I'm probably going to let the others catch up so we don't get too far ahead of them. ^_^

[Ashleg]

OOC-
They're all dead.

[The Skarzs]

OOC: Not all of us. @Rosie Willowwater You don't want to miss out!

BIC: Rjuffen finally made it to the town. He stopped at the edge of a cobbled path, looking uncertainly at the buildings. It was somewhat similar to home. . . yet all the same, very different. The wolf looked around for any creatures nearby. A ways in the distance a figure walked along the beach, but it seemed most of the activity was within the town itself.
  He stepped onto the path and walked on, approaching two soldiers on either side of the path. They drew back as he came close, looking up at him with spears ready.
  "Who are you?" the one on the right said, a mouse. "Speak up!"
  Rjuffen blinked at the mouse's accent. "I'm. . . sorry. My name is Rjuffen."
  The two looked at each other. ". . . You're a wolf. Where are you from? The White Lands?" Their spears stayed pointed at Rjuffen.
  "White Lands. . . ? I. . . I was on a ship, from the Barkhills, across the ocean. I was washed overboard in a storm. Have you seen a ship recently?"

OOC: @IronWolf0805 What would the Knight Tribe's stance be on Rjuffen? Do you want to play the soldiers?