Redwall Isn't Safe Anymore! (Is Redwall as Safe as they Say it is? Part Two)

[Ashleg]

Quaking, the weasel that had asked the question threw down his weapon.
The other vermin followed suit.
"We should send 'em off after their friends, huh?" Duncan mused, glancing at Bracklew.
He nudged Rapshade off to the side with his footpaw.

[LT Sandpaw]

Hearing the approaching soldiers that rushed up behind her, Grah spun, lashing out and tearing open one of the creature's stomach. Her sudden move however sent her fluttering backwards straight into Gukom. The little hamster reacted instinctively, lashing out with the torch, swatting the bird's downy under feathers.

Grah was a flesh eater by nature, devouring almost any prey both bird and beast in equal fashion. Often she bathed in the blood and gore of those she feasted so viciously upon, wearing it like a trophy of her superiority. Oils collected by this rampant diet and lifestyle now ignited, flaring up as the crow screeched in pain. Torn by the flesh eating flames the maddened bird leapt one last time into battle against the Vigil creatures, slaying two more and wounding a third before death finally caught her in its icy relief.

Grah the Krah was dead.

~*~*~*~*~

Ordering the vermin to sit on their paws and wait for further instruction Bracklew left them guarded by a couple of weary looking otters and shrews, turning away and placing a paw on his forehead.
"Yeah, we ought to, how do you think we should do it?" The young squirrel felt unsteady, and he was sure if called upon to draw his sword his exhausted paw wouldn't be able too. "I feel like I might faint myself," he admitted to Duncan. "Let's get this done and over with before we all keel over."

[Ashleg]

"Don't worry, Brack, I'll do it."
Puffing out his chest, Duncan swaggered over to the defeated vermin. Most of them appaeared more tired than scared, but Duncan realized that that was okay, for these were just a few scrappy soldiers and not captains or anybeast that was a real threat.
Speaking of which...the hare's brown eyes narrowed as he scanned them. His gaze landed on the weasel in front, the one who had been speaking. That reminded him. Where was Roscoe? Had that smug little pest been killed, or did he flee?
"You all are free to go. But wait!"
He poised his sword at a rat that tried to get up.
"Don't move yet. I have some terms you lot have to agree to first, understood? Here we go: you will not keep fighting, you will not remain in Mossflower Country, and you will not and I mean not give good honest creatures any more trouble. Raise your paw if you understand."

A few hesitant paws went up at first, and the rest followed suit right after Duncan coughed and pointed at Alfhild's head.
The hare beamed and and pulled the weasel to his paws.
"Good, glad to see that! Righto, you chaps, up and ready. I'm a hare, an' I've bet you know that the typical hare is a really good jumper, so how about a hare-styled send off, wot?"
None of the vermin looked too eager.
Duncan chuckled. "Of course. Well, on the count of ten, I want you to hippity-hop your way off my property. Anybeast who chooses to stay, however, can have a little counsel with Alfhild's head. Ready? One...two...three..."
By the time he reached three, they were up and gone.

[Groddil]

Charm panted, staring at the dead crow. Reinforced by her squadron, the last vermin were either dead or long gone. The soldiers gathered around her, clutching wounds, while Shillo, the Vigil's medic, checked several bodies.
"Marm. Chalmers, Spinorem, and the Watervole Brothers are dead."
"And with luck, they will never be forgotten."
The otter took a deep breath.
"It's done. I relinquish my command."
Charm took a dagger from her belt and slashed the patch embroidered with the Vigil's symbol from her tunic. Letting the scrap of fabric flutter to the ground, Dropping the dagger on top of the piece of tunic, the otter turned on her heel and vanished out the wallgate, into the snow. One by one, the other captains took the dagger and cut the symbol from their clothing. Durken and Shillo were first, followed by the other surviving leaders. After a brief pause, the majority of the troops began to follow suit. Soon, only Gukom and a few indecisive grunts remained. They stood, looking sadly at the pile of patches, as the battered lift rose from the caves. While the lift mechanism had mainly escaped unscathed, there were several holes in the wood, and the bottom had been scorched black. Two creatures limped towards the soldiers. Celio leaned heavily on Mortembell as he took the dagger and removed his own patch.
"Go on. Make your own path."
"Cin we stay 'ere?"
"You'd have to ask."
"What'll 'appen if we doesn't?"
"I don't know, kid... I don't know."
"What'll you be doin', boss?"
"Don't call me that. I'm not anyone's boss anymore."
"Err... Okay... Celio. Where'll ye go?"
"Nowhere for the moment. Gotta get this leg fixed. After that... I guess I'll wait and see."
"A'right."
Another soldier nudged the first.
"Come on, mate. We can't stay here. Durken said it, they 'ate us. We'll stick together, come on."
The first soldier nodded as the two removed their patches.
"We'll find a place, mate."
"Aye."
As the two former soldiers filed out of the wallgate, Gukom looked sadly at Celio.
"Even after we voted against it..."
The mouse just nodded silently. Shaking his head and letting out a sigh, Gukom took the knife and cut the patch from his robe.
"And just like that... It's over."
The hamster looked around briefly before making his way towards Duncan.
"Er... I need to speak with... Name starts with a G... Gerald? No, Grant. The Abbot. Please."

OOC: Well then... Seeing as how we're (presumably) close to the end, wanna send me stuff for the epilogue?

[Ashleg]

OOC-
I was actually thinking I'd write it this time.
Sometimes in the books, the Abbot/Abbess would do the ending journal.
IC-
Duncan glanced up as Gukom made his way over to him.
"He's inside, though he might be busy." He was about to continue, when an old mouse appeared at the gates with all the Dibbuns with him.
The Redwall elders and Dibbuns had returned!
The white squirrel, Maxy, shimmied down from the mouse's shoulders and went running up to Duncan.
"Dunca', Dunca'! Did we win?"

Duncan grinned and scooped him up. "We sure did, Buddy. Come on inside, all of you. It's warmer there."

OOC-
How about we do a short timeskip an hour or two ahead to when everything's cleaned up, Groddil, you can start with Gukom approaching Grant's door.

[LT Sandpaw]

OOC: One more post from me before the TS.

IC:

Seeing the last of the vermin off and the clearing the infirmary so that Redwallers and wounded Vigil beasts could be placed there, Bracklew, exhausted and ready for a well needed rest wandered back across the lawns, winding his way slowly through the piles of bodies. He kept his gaze downcast, unable to look at the devastation that had been reaped in his home.

"Brack, matey. Is that ye?"

Bracklew's head snapped up, his eyes scanning the bodies until he noticed who had spoken. "Aver!" Scurrying over the squirrel knelt beside his otter friend taking Aver's paw in his own. "Are you okay? You look terrible, why didn't you speak up when we were looking for the wounded? We must have walked right past you."

"Must'a been out cold, eh, jus' woke up ye know. Been 'aving a nice chat wit' me pa, e' always was a better Skipper n' me. More aware o' wot was 'appenin'." Aver sounded delirious, and Bracklew squeezed the web paw tighter, biting his lower lip.

"You'll be fine, the infirmary is clear, I'll help you there, can you walk?"

Aver blinked, his large eyes filling with tears. "I can't feel me legs matey, I can't feel me toeclaws or me tail an' I can't move 'em. I think that bird did a number on me."

"It'll be fine," Bracklew insisted, not wanting to think about what had happened to the otter. "Rayne'll fix you up once she's better. She can fix just about anything, as long as its still attached." Aver chuckled appreciatively, and Bracklew rushed off, finding one of the ottercrew to help him drag Aver upstairs. It was a struggle, as all both beasts were in no fit state to carry an adult otter, but they managed, leaving Aver in an infirmary bed. Unable to face anyone or anything else, Bracklew retreated to his dormitory room and collapsing onto his bed.

[Groddil]

OOC: K. I've got my part 3 character sheets ready as well.

BIC:

Gukom nodded timidly on Grant's door.
"Err... Sir... Abbot Ge-Grant. I need to ask you something."

[Ashleg]

The door swung open to reveal the mouse and his newly tidied room.
Rapshade had left the place quite a mess.
Grant's brown eyes traveled downward to rest on Gukom.
"Yes, what is it? Is there a problem?"

OOC-
@LT Sandpaw and @Hickory , could you guys send me the character info for the epilogue/journal thing?
It's a "where are they now" kind of doohickey for the end of the winter.
You may remember it from last year.

Oh, and Grodds, you may need to edit your character sheets based off the forum I'm going to put up. Early bird doesn't always get the worm y'know.

[Groddil]

The hamster sighed.
"The Vigil's disbanded. They're gone. Am I... Am I welcome to stay here? I know you're not fond of- err, were not fond of us, but I have nowhere else to go."

[Ashleg]

"Of course," said Grant, cracking a smile as he put a paw on the hamster's shoulder.
"There's a pace for everybeast here at Redwall Abbey. Come now, they're all in the Great Hall having supper. As you can imagine, the fighters must be famished! Shall we join them?"
The mouse chuckled as he led Gukom down the stairs.

[Groddil]

OOC:

Fade to black.

So, we doing anything else before the end?

Put up part 3, m8!

[Ashleg]

Seasons travel fast--and if there is one thing that will never cease to astonish me in my old age, it's the amazing ability my Redwall family has to bounce back from the horrible battle we experienced not so long ago.
The Winter of the White Sky was undoubtedly one of our hardest yet.
Of course, we lost a more than a few dear friends along the way (goodness rest the late Ava Badgermum, and peace be upon Mortembell, Asher, Charm, and poor crippled Celio, all of whom left here to journey alone). Even despite this, just as the winter chills are renewed by the spring rains, the number of Redwallers does not dare dwindle.
Gukom, the former Vigil hamster, moved in with us this winter and took up Mortembell's post as Recorder of Redwall Abbey. Even Shadowmay claimed residence, and Stumbly, the goofy mousebabe, has been faring rather well twixt her and Drubble!
(Though I do say, that poor Cellarmole has got his work laid out for him. Young Fangfang has been naught but a nuisance in trying to sneak cordial behind from his back. At least he isn't shaken anymore.)

Bracklew, the Abbey Warrior, seems to have brightened as well. Although he remains quiet, he ceased being grumpy and has even been given a nicely made paw cover from the ever-jolly Petu, of whom seems quite sociable lately.
The rabbit made friends with Aver, and they are together almost as much or more than he is with Bracklew. (Did I mention that the poor otter lost the use of his legs as a result of a war injury? He seems to be coping well, but you never know. I do feel bad for him.)

My close friend, Duncan, appears to be the least recovered of the group. He has insisted he watch Rapshade, and he seems to be losing sleep over it. If Duncan ever needs a break, I say he should get one. He deserves it. On a lighter paw, that hare has definitely taken a liking to Maxy and has even adopted him as his own son (with, and can you believe, Bracklew as the older brother!)
His old Salamandastron appetite is coming back a little bit more every day.
Perhaps Rayne, who has mostly recovered from her jaw wound, won't need to help him like I thought!

If only----


Oh dear, that's young Maxy now! That rascal just raced in to tell me to come down for dinner, and my quill slipped.
Well, I can't be mad. Friar Rusk must be cooking something good, as I can smell it all the way up in my room.
If you are ever journeying through the snow and you happen to scent our wonderful fare, do not hesitate to join us.
The gates of Redwall Abbey will always be open to everybeast, strong or weak, as long as the wind can rustle the trees.

-Grant, Abbot of Redwall Abbey in Mossflower Country

**

Spoiler

**OOC- Cease posting now. I am makin' part Three! @Groddil @Hickory @LT Sandpaw 

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