Midwinter at the Abbey

[Osu]

While there are many in Mossflower who consider winter to be a long, hard, unhappy season, the sentiment is not shared at the abbey of Redwall. After the snow falls there is little more to do than eat, sleep, and tell stories by the fire. And play in the snow, naturally; snowball fights at Redwall are the things of legend, according to the local dibbun population.

For retired long patrol major Clarence Nanminster, more commonly known as Major Nannie (though never to his face,) the days leading up to the abbey's annual midwinter feast could not have been more relaxing. It was a matter of continual pleasure for the old veteran because winters at Salamandastron could be hard, especially for hares on patrol in the snow.

Presently, the major was striding into cavern hole, joining a group of abbeybeasts who were gathering to swap stories over hot cider and some of the Friar's famous apple and candied chestnut tarlets. Breakfast had come and gone and lunch was still hours away, so the old hare naturally made his way to wherever vittles could be had. He had little interest in the cacophonous activities taking place outside. (Apparently somebeast had toppled some otherbeast's snow-mouse, which led to a screaming snowball fight that drew in what must have been every other dibbun, youngbeast, and elder in the place, by the sound of it.)

The lack of discipline at the abbey could be legendary, too, he thought. Seating himself in a plush armchair by the fire,  the major helped himself to a mug of cider and leaned toward the nearest creature, murmuring humorously, "bit noisy out doors, wot. Do this every year, do ye?"

[BrookSkimmer]

As it were the hedgehog seated in the chair next to the one the Major had chosen was trying to shake snow from his spikes. Bits of the ice that had been clinging to his head spikes had begun to melt by the warmth of the fire. The drops fell onto his face and some onto his rather large stomach as well.

Bit noisy out doors, wot. Do this every year, do ye?

"Not when I kin 'elp it Major, that much I kin tell ye." He dusted the last bit of snow from his shoulders and sat back with a mug of cocoa in his paws. "Caught off guard by those dibbuns. Right mess it was too!"

Spikepaw Rattlesdorn, or Rattle as most preferred to call him sipped appreciatively at his mug. The middle seasoned hog dearly loved this time of year. Not the parts where he was caught outside on the frozen lawns in the middle of snowball fight. But rather enjoying himself by the warmth of a fire, looking forward to a trip to his cellars later.

"Och Rattle yer such the ol' miser so y'are!" A hare maid then appeared on the Scene.

"Don't ye come near me Virginia Wutherfeather!" The hog threw his paws up as a snowball appeared in the pretty hare's paw from behind her back.

"I saved this one fer you, since ye seemed so intent on hittin' me with one right a'fore enterin' the Abbey!"

Rattle blanched. He had been hoping nobeast had seen that! He had sneaked in one little snowball, just for old time's sake before entering Cavern Hole.  What better target than one of Redwall's resident hares. He usually got such a good reaction to his tricks from Virginia.

"An' I tol' ye me name's not Virginia, tis just plain Feather!" She tossed the snowball back and forth while winking at the Major. "Whot say you Major? Should I pay this one back fer 'is misdeed? Right 'er an' now... or is revenge really best served cold?"

The haremaid smiled even though she was trying to sound fierce.

"Stay back I say! Back! All I want is to relax in Cavern Hole." Rattle tried to sound forceful, but really this was all in good fun. Who said well seasoned creatures couldn't behave like dibbuns every one in a while?

[Leatho Shellhound]

William (wellies) albatross opened the abbey door, the cold wind with snow mixed in it flew past him, and his face was white with frost.

"That some cold weather, mind if I join you beasts?"

He was a middle aged mouse, who just got back home from his wonderings down south. He got his name b/c where ever he went there always seemed to be rain falling above him, or in this case snow. His fur was white and black like the feathers of the albatross, which he covered with a thick brown trench coat and a sword belt at his side.

Mr. Wellies walked over and helped himself to a cup of hot apple cider after finding a seat next to some abbey beast.

[Osu]

"Not when I kin 'elp it Major, that much I kin tell ye."

The old campaigner nodded sagely, sipping from his mug. "A most sensible disposition, Rattle. Discipline, that's the thing, wot wot. Rather lacking in that department outside, eh? I say, how are y'brews comin' about?" He might have continued in this vein for some time if not for the timely appearance of a pretty young haremaid.

The major glanced at the cellar hog askance upon learning of his alleged outdoor activities, raising one eyebrow and an ear. He offered no comment for the present, and, perhaps, might have avoided joining in the debacle if Feather had not turned specifically to him.

"Whot say you Major? Should I pay this one back fer 'is misdeed? Right 'er an' now... or is revenge really best served cold?"

"Stay back I say! Back! All I want is to relax in Cavern Hole."

The major, who had leaned back slightly as the ebullient haremaid began her good-natured tirade, got swiftly to his paws (impressive for a hare of his seasons) and bowed shortly while he began backing away. He'd had quite enough snow in the snout for one season, and that snowball looked like it could do more than a little collateral damage. Just his luck to be sitting next to the target.

"Good heavens, marm, I'm all for fair play an' flippin' fibbers gettin' their dues if'n you must, but would y'be so kind as to take it outdoors, wot?"

"That some cold weather, mind if I join you beasts?"

Clarence hardly noticed the middle-aged mouse enter cavern hole; but he did notice when he very nearly sat in Wellies' cider. In his haste to get out of the way of Feather's surprise attack on the cellar hog, the major backed straight in to the next nearest chair, narrowly stopping himself in time before squashing the mouse sitting in it. He glanced over his shoulder, steadying his mug of cider.

"Er, beg pardon, Mister Wellies, just keepin' out o' the way o' those overgrown curmudgeons yonder, wot?"

[BrookSkimmer]

(Oh my goodness! I forgot about this thread. I'm sorry to keep you guys waiting!)

A scene of pandemonium was fast braking out in Cavern Hole. This close quartered cavern was meant for sitting and sipping cider, laughing merrily, maybe even dancing a little jig but certainly ot for snowball fights!

Good heavens, marm, I'm all for fair play an' flippin' fibbers gettin' their dues if'n you must, but would y'be so kind as to take it outdoors, wot?

Rattle looked aghast as the Major gave his condolences for his certain demise via snowball.

"Really Major!" He huffed. "I thought you one for rules and regulation and here you are allowing snow slinging in our famed Cavern Hole!" The edges of his mouth turned up in a smile as he dropped the ruse.

"Come now miss Feather! It was only a little snowball, nothing like the pawful you've got there!" Rattle stood, using the chair arm to help himself up. He was not as young as he used to be, though it was his youthful ways that he was now paying for.

"No talkin' yer way outta this one mister Rattle. You'll git whot's comin' to ya so ya will. But first..." Her eyes moved to a platter of scone that was being laid upon the table behind Wellies. "Didn't know it was tea time already wot!"

The haremaid trod forward and took a seat near Wellies. She helped herself to some scones and cider. After her hunger had been slightly slacked she took a bit of snow from the pile she had placed at the edge of the table and put it into her mug.

"Cider's a bit hot today. This'll do the trick!"

Rattle, after seeing the haremaid lay down arms also took a nearby seat. He eyed Feather but she did not seem to be planning any retaliation for the time being.

"Either of you chaps heard if the otter troop is to be back soon? They've been gone almost three weeks now. That's a long time just to get to the northern edge oft he River Moss. Those ice fish they're bringing back better be worth all that trouble! Either of you ever tried ice fish?"

[Leatho Shellhound]

"I say, Major, watch you step if you please," said Mr. Wellies while steadying his cup of cider which had spilt some of its contents on his coat.

"Didn't know it was tea time already wot!"

"Indeed, the way time flies these days, but all the better when it comes to food." W. Albatross agread, turning in his chair and taking a hot scone. "Don't suppose you have any butter, do you?"

Looking at the kitchen helper who's name happened to escape his memory for the time being. The kitchen helper, who was a female wood mouse, took the butter plate off the lower shelf of the tray and handed it to him.

Nodding and mouthing his silent thanks he turned back toward his companions.

"As you all should know I just recently came back from my traveling, and on the way to the Abbey I pass the already mentioned otter chaps. Did you know, they told me they were looking for one of there number who had gone missing in a snow storm. Seeing that they seemed to have every thing under contol I moved on... Ahhh! What a blundering fool I've been," Mr. Wellies cry out while fumbling about in his trench coat pocket. He produced a sliver ring with an otter head engraved on it.

"Look here chaps, I found this south of the river ford, along with the tracks of many a evil fox. Why had I not made the connection then as I do now. Gentlemen, I do believe we know what happened to an unfortunate otter maid."

His eyes wide in concentration, "I suggest we form a rescue party, but if none are willing I'll go by my self, seeing as it has been my own stupidity that has waisted valuable time. The more snow that falls will only cover the tracks more completely."

He ate his scone with determined bites.   

[Osu]

((aaah I'm sorry this took so long, I'm not very good at quick RP's haha.))

"I thought you one for rules and regulation and here you are allowing snow slinging in our famed Cavern Hole!"
The Major, who had been about to apologize properly to Wellies for nearly sitting on him -- never the done thing amongst gentlebeasts, after all -- did an about face and raised a stern paw toward Feather and Rattle.

"I said take it outside, wot wot!" Fates help anybeast present if they got snow in his ears... fortunately, Feather proved herself a hare through and through when the lure of food remained a higher priority than tossing snow about. Relieved, the Major took a cautious seat on the other side of Wellies and poured himself another mug of cider. Settling back, he had every intention of tuning out the local conversation and possibly taking a nap.

"I suggest we form a rescue party [...] The more snow that falls will only cover the tracks more completely."

Clarence leaned forward, putting his mug down on the table with a decisive thump. Twitching his waxed whiskers and polishing his monocle, the old hare stood up and addressed all present.

"Alright you chaps, battle-trained Salamandastron hare Major Nanminster, at y'service, wot! Missing otterbeasts and foul foxes afoot is the game, is it? Well let me tell you beasts, we don't suffer the likes o' that for a pound o' trifle at Salamandastron, no sah! Wellies, my good sir, you say you found this evidence south of the river ford, how far south? Mister Rattle, you say those ottahs 'ave been missing for three bloomin' weeks on a journey that should have taken how long -- two weeks? One?"

He turned back to the assembly in Cavern Hole. "Somebeast please locate the abbot; we'll need to have a council of war. I propose we send two search parties, one after the main otter group and the other after the missing ottermaid, wot. Apart from mister Wellies and m'goodself, are there any volunteers?"

[BrookSkimmer]

OOC: I shall replace this with a post tomorrow at the latest! Just letting you know I've seen the thread. 

[BrookSkimmer]

(Wow, sudden increase in action! Sounds fun!)

A squirrel maid went off in search of the abbot as word about possible foxes and slain otters reached her ears.

Rattle mused for a moment on the question asked by the major.

"I'd say they should have been gone for two weeks. Some time for travel, combined with fishing for ice fish, and the journey back. Aye, could take a little over two weeks. That'd be why nobeast sounded any alarms. But with this new news... I suppose you're right Major, a war council must be formed!"

Rattle took a sip of cider and sighed. "I'd volunteer myself of course but my hip still pains me. I'd slow the group down. I'm sorry not to be able to go." The old hedgehog had a look of longing in his eyes. In his younger days he would have jumped at the chance but now he couldn't.

"Well, ye can bally well count me in! Flippin' foxes anywhere near the good ol' Abbey boils me blood so it does Major! I've trained at Salamandastron meself and I'm sure I could be of help."

The young Feather waggled her ears and stood, her eyes shining. "About time I got up to something aside from slingin' bally snowballs wot!"

Nobeast could deny the enthusiasm of a young long patrol born hare.

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It was not long before a council of war was being held in Cavern Hole. The rest of the Abbey dwellers were being occupied by a swiftly formed game outside in the snow followed by hot chocolate for all. The Abbot, an elderly squirrel by the name of Father Averal sat at the head of the table.

Junko and Turven, two well muscled otters that had stayed behind to protect the Abbey sat with the others at the table. It was obvious by the looks on their faces that they would be joining the party headed after the foxes.

"Fellows! Brothers and sisters! If it is indeed true that foxes have captured and possibly slain an otter maid then we must pursue them. However, Mr. Albatross I'll need to hear your story once more before giving my permission for Redwall to send out these parties."

[Leatho Shellhound]

Wellies, my good sir, you say you found this evidence south of the river ford, how far south?

"Excellent! Right well, let me think I was walking..."  Mr. Wellies said while rubbing his chin, "I know it's was by that large tree that fell over last Autumn."

--------------------------------------------------------------------

William was seated between to lager otter as he listened in out the war council.

However, Mr. Albatross I'll need to hear your story once more before giving my permission for Redwall to send out these parties."

"Most certainly Father Abbot," He said while standing up so that he was better heard, "Well as you all know I was on my return trip to the abbey from my many wonderings around the country side. Not to long ago I came upon the otter encampment, after warming my self by the fire I asked what they were doing in these parts, They answered me by saying

We was walking through a snow storm, and when it finaly stopped we found that one of our crew, Blaire by name, was missing. So we're looking for her, we hope to her find soon.

So the next morning I wished them good luck and went on my way. I hiked along the river bank till I reached the ford, from their I started to travel the path. In late evening I was looking for a good place to camp for the night and as it happened while I was getting my fire ready, for it was cold and the snow was falling, I noticed many tracks in the snow. On closer study I identified them as fox tracks..." Seeing some skeptical looks among them he explained,

" I knew it was foxes by the chevron-shaped callous pad on the heel of the foot, one learns think of that sort when you travel a lot. I'd also like to go ahead a say that it is to my belief that it was a war part, by weapon marks in the snow and the lack of infant tracks." Mr. Wellies stated.

"Yes, yes, please continue with the story," said the Abbot

"Right... where way I?" Asked Mr. Albatross

"Fox tracks, I believe," Abbot Averal answered

"Yes, of course... As I was saying; and among these tracks I saw a little sparkle, the last of the sun shining off of some metal. Picking it up I found it to be a ring with an otter head engraved upon it, I put it in my coat pocket. I found a new camp site for I didn't want to be by the vermin tracks lest they should return that way, and the next morning came to the abbey." Said William finishing his tale.

He took his seat once more.

[Dag Downyfur]

(I want to join in! But I don't have time to post yet.)