Zephyr Town

[Norham Waterpaw]

Here is Chapter 2 now:

Prologue:

Zephyr Town was constantly being attacked by raiders and thugs. The small seaside town had no defences, and the trade routes were cut off, because the raiders blocked those. This story is about an animal, who stood up for his town, no matter the odds.

Part 1: The town's plea.
Chapter 1: The uneasy silence.

Anders was going cautiously down the hard cobblestone road. The chimneys on the red brick houses around him blew puffs of grey smoke. He ducked into an alley as a brass lined, leather seated, motor carriage passed by. It had the rich Baron of zephyr town in it's back seat. He was a coward, he had made peace with the thugs, so he could keep his money, and let the rest of the town starve in poverty.
In return, the towns people had to give their food to the thugs.

Anders, being a fox, was always the scape-goat for crime in the city. He never stole anything, killed anyone, or even looked suspicious, but he was accused never-the-less. He was usually let go, but everyone watched him closely. His reddish, orangey fur blended fairly wellcwith the red brick wall he was sidleing on. His blue vest, however,  stood out like a lamp in a dark room. The motor carriage passed. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Anders walked through the city, using back streets and alley-ways. He bumped into a well dressed squirrel, who turned around and threatened with his cane. "Watch where you're going, filthy urchin!"
Anders quickly scampered off into the nearest alley. He waited until the squirrel had left the street. He slowly emerged from the alley-way. He sat down, he adjusted his brown newsboy cap. The owner of the shop, whom Anders knew, tossed him an apple. "Thank you, is there anything you need today?" Anders asked the mouse. The mouse merely replied. " No, just for you to lay low, the constable has been very busy searching for you." Anders' eyes widened. He had heard about the constable, he was the one who locked you up, this one though, didn't care about a trial, he just did it. Anders thanked the kindly old mouse.
The constable, who was really a thug, but came in as part of the mayor's bargain, was wandering down the main road, as he saw Anders cross the street. The big, burly weasel grinned a smile that would have wilted any nearby flowers. He wandered over to the side street Anders just took, he peered down the narrow way, and shouted. "Gotcha' yer little scumbag!" The constable ran toward him. Anders turned about to see a big weasel in a red overcoat barreling down the street towards him. He knew who that weasel was, the constable. Anders ran as fast as his paws could take him, he turned to see his pursuer draw a long knife. Anders knew his was in mortal peril, so he ran faster. He saw his pursuer slacken, and start to huff and puff. Anders ran down the nearest alleyway, and hit a dead end. He turned to see the weasel blocking his path. The weasel advanced on Anders, knife in paw. Anders was not a strong fox by any means, but he knew how to escape situations like this. He ran at the surprised weasel and vaulted off his chest, running away.

Chapter 2: The thugs' return.

Anders was out of breath when he stopped. He was at his "home" which was really a compilation of old orange crates, with a leather tarp over it, outside the main gate of town. No one ever noticed it, but yet they saw it every day. He peered out over the flatlands, with a few trees dotted here and there. He sat there, finally eating the apple the mouse gave him. His eyes began to droop, and soon he dropped off to sleep.

He woke to the sound of gunfire, he ducked instinctively. The raiders had returned. Anders opened the flap of his hideout to see several raiders' bodies strewn on the flats. Several raiders were bellowing orders to some others, something about the double guns? He instantly knew what they meant. He dashed through a small hole behind his shelter he used for emergencies, such as this. He began shouting across the streets as he ran. "The raiders are bringing cannons! Take cover! The rai-" He was about to finish his sentence when a grimy paw caught him by the vest collar and dragged him into an alley-way. Everything went black.


He came to in a small room, with barred windows and a solid oak door. He knew about this place, it was the constable's prison. There was a plate with a stale, half eaten piece of bread. He soon discovered a squirrel, about his age, was the reason the bread was helf eaten. He offered his share to the young squirrel, but he refused it. Anders just sat there, not wanting to eat it. "Eat it, if the constable sees you haven't eaten, he assumes you no longer want to live..." Anders ate it swiftly. "How did you wind up here?" Asked the squirrel, seeing that Anders was as innocent as he. "I'm the constant blame for crime, I've never done anything, but as you can see, I'm here." anders replied.

The constable, with a club in paw, unlocked the door, and slid a bowl of mush to both Anders and the other. He swiflty slammed the door shut, and locked it. Anders knew he had to eat it, no matter what it was. The squirrel was digging in happily next to him."Come on, eat it! It's my favorite meal, he serves this oncrare occasions. Anders tasted it, and it was actually good."Wow, it is good! What is it?" Anders asked. "He calls it oatmeal, I think? By the way, my name is Timmons..." Said the squirrel, apparently named Timmons. Anders did his best to stifle a giggle. "I know, odd name, just call me Tim, it'll make this a whole lot less embarressing." Tim remarked.

Outside of the small cell, both never heard what the raiders had accomplished. They had decimated the north part of town, killing the  many beasts that lived in that sector. Both of them were safe in that cell, for the time being.

[Norham Waterpaw]

 The sun was high, and the small cell was quite warm in the mid-summer heat. Tim sat eating his plate of bread and apples. Both he and Anders had noticed an improvement over the weeks, in food, and treatment.

The constable returned, with a large knife in hand. "Come wid' me." The fox and squirrel followed silently. He led them into a medium sized room, with stairs running up the wall, to what appeared to be living quarters for the constable. "Look you's two, I've been meanin' to tell yer'... I ain't like those raiders, I may be in their group o' bandits, but I ain't one o' them." His eyes began to fill with tears. "I joined because I had to, or they would murder my family. I came peacefully, but as I left, I heard two gun-shots ring in my ears, I still hear them now. My wife, my daughter, taken away to the peaceful meadows with the pull of a trigger." The constable began to sob, he pulled a silk hankerchief from his coat pocket. He sat there awhile, weeping. Both Anders and Tim felt horrible, knowing what happened to the constable.

He finally composed himself. "I would let you go if I could, honest ter' my heart! I can't do that for yer', they'd kill ya as soon as look atcha'! I can't let two more innocent beasts die because of me!" He sent them back to their cell, still with tears in his eyes.

[Norham Waterpaw]

Summer soon became Fall, and with it, came the raiders' harvest. The raiders would ride through town, stealing foodstuffs, and intimidating the townsfolk. Tim lifted Anders on his shoulders, and Anders looked through the bars to see what was going on. "What are they doin' up there Anders?" Tim asked, anxious to know what would happen to the city.

"Nothing much, yet." Said Anders, expecting a small war any minute.
The constable rushed in, and grabbed the two young ones, and pushed them out the prison door. "Go you's two, run! They're coming for ye! Run!" Both ran as fast as they could. They would never forget the kindness of the weasel, never. They rounded a corner, into a crowded side street. A tall squirrel, who Anders had bumped into earlier, said loudly. "Back filth, before you meet my cane!" Anders and Tim backed away from the grouchy beast.

Several tall ferrets in white waistcoats passed the two young ones. They had revolving guns in a holster on their hips. They were headed down the alley Anders and Tim had just left, not minutes ago.
Anders heart was pounding, he knew what might happen to the constable. Three gun-shots rang through the town. Tears dripped off Anders' cheek. All of a sudden, the constable, with two newly acquired pistols, strode around the corner.

Both boys embraced him in a warm hug. The constable would have been happy, if the situation were not so intense. He bent down on one knee. "Boys, we gots to go now, I mean, now!" He and the boys ran down the crowded street, holding each others paws.

The trio finally arrive at the main gate, and strode out in a business like manner. As soon as they got out, they sped down the flatlands. The constable led them to an old cottage. The old cottage where the constable was made a raider.

[Norham Waterpaw]

Feel free to give any feedback or comments!

[KitrallStreamrippler]

This is great! I'm constantly surprised by how many people know about steampunk. You've integrated it really well with the Redwall world. (You might want to make a discussion topic for this- there's usually more discussion and feedback there than in the thread for the story.)

[Norham Waterpaw]

thanks, I'll make the discussion thread soon.

[Norham Waterpaw]

 Anders and Tim sat in silence, both knew of the horrific events that took place ar this house. The constable also sat in silence, just reliving the happy times spent here. In his mind's eye, he could see his wife, cleaning the table before lunch, and his daughter happily skipping in to taste her mother's cooking. All this, ripped from him.

The constable finally snapped out of his day-dream. "Boys, foller me." The boys followed the constable to a stairwell leading downward, into  some kind of cellar. They carefully went down the steps. Both boys stared in hushed awe. The room was filled with new kinds of weapons, from revovling pistols, to behemoth cannons. All excuisitely designed with intricate panelling and edging. There were two small pistols, with longer barrels. "See that? Those longer barrels are designed to muffle the sound of the gun." Both boys looked up at the constable with a pleading look, seeing as there were two of those pistols.

The constable caught on. "Yes, boys, take one each. Now, do you know how to use these?" Both boys shook their heads. "Well, we can change that" said the constable.

[Rusvul]

Cool! Redwall Steampunk! I know this thread hasn't been posted on for a while, but don't stop writing this fanfic!

[Norham Waterpaw]

Oh, wow! Thanks for the revive. I practically forgot about this! Being caught up in school and stuff. I'll try to post more soon!

[Norham Waterpaw]

Chapter 6:

Anders and Tim walked cautiously through town, with new vests on. They were made from light weight cloth, but it was sturdy too. It had a thin layer of metal mesh on the inside, making it the ideal body armor. It was the color of olive-green, which went well with their new  black paperboy caps.

They knew their mission. They were told by the kind Constable, that they were to hunt and find the Mayor, this was not going to be easy, but they had to. They had to because the Constable told them information about a raider attack party, that planned to kill the Mayor.

Though he was a coward, both boys had a heart for the Mayor.
They began on the north street, which was the destroyed part of town. They saw the gleam of his motor-carriage. This was going to be easy, both thought, if they could catch it though.

They ran down the crowded street. Squirrels, mice, moles, and the occasional stoat, were passed swiftly as their paws hammered against the dusty cobble road.

Out of nowhere it seemed, two raiders, those kind in the white vests, turned the corner, just in time to bump into the boys. Tim scrambled upright and kept running, oblivious to who he bumped. Anders, was not so fortunate. The raiders rushed at Anders. Anders drew his gun and shot one, the other ran.

Anders, shocked by what he had done, ran to the nearest alley, his old comfort zone. The beasts around were shocked too, but they knew it was a raider. That could bring trouble to the town. A mole, quickly dragged the body to the north gate, and hurriedly buried it.

Tim heard the shot, and he rushed back, not finding Anders.

[Rusvul]

Firefight! Nice! Pow-Pow! I did not understand what white vests had to do with raiders, though. But, good chapter!

[Norham Waterpaw]

Back in Ch. 4, there were some ferrets with white vest/waistcoat things on, it is sort of their symbolic paraphenalia.

[Rusvul]

Hmm, ok. I think this might qualify as "Dieselpunk", actually, because it sounds more like early WW1 dress rather than victorian.

[Norham Waterpaw]

Well, close enough, but yes, the clothing and stuff is a lot like WW1, thanks.