Grey's Great Fanfiction Writing Competions

[Mara the Wolf]

There was a ballad about Verdauga (the character from Mossflower), but it's been taken down (you posted it yourself, Grey). What happened to that?

[The Grey Coincidence]

There's an ongoing investigation as to whether or not the person who wrote that actually wrote that or whether or not they ripped the lyrics off of something else. So, until there's an answer I suppose Drumroll is still on for any and all willing to test their skills.

[The Grey Coincidence]

Shall I... change the prompty prompt?

[Sebias of Redwall]

Hmm. >.> Good question. Bleh, I haven't exactly been writing recently, but I could maybe see if I could scrape something together.

[The Grey Coincidence]

I have decided to give the prize to myself this time around. Behold the winning piece.

Vermin, vermin, vermin- The Musical

"'Everybeast before us fell short," Harlapple unrolled a map of Redwall for all to see.
"Every brainy, brawny, burly warlord,
Every stinky, slinky, slimy horde," he pinched his nose as he passed Skunksnot, twisted Meadowblossum into a pretzel and did not dare lay a paw on the oozing Footface.

"All FAILED!" Chorused the assembled hordebeasts.


"We will do it differently,
"Not too harsh," his voice even, fair, considerate.
"Far from gently," a wicked grin spread across his face and promised pain.
"Please listen intently," he snapped, pulling Dung and Durge by the ears.
Whoever was providing the music increased the tempo.
"We've been beaten, stomped and thrashed," Harlapple abruptly released the rats, letting their head bang against each other's.
"Now they think of us as trash," a small growl escaped the warlord.
"They've burnt down all our soap," Harlapple fell to his knees, filling his paws with ashes.
"Tried to give themselves some hope," the ashes were raised to his chest, and placed over his heart.
"But that won't change a thing," the villainous grin returned as Harlapple threw the ashes into the wind.
"Coz we're vermin!" Lackfoot cried, getting to his footpaw.
"Vermin, vermin, vermin!" the rest of the horde agreed, standing up to cast a shadow over their minuscule leader.
"Soon as they sees us they'll go a'runnin'!" Dung exclaimed, grinning brightly.
"We'll throw stones, sticks and boulders," Durge hefted a massive rock above his head.
"Till we're aching from the shoulders," Skunksnot wheezed, trying to do the same.
"An' their wall's nothin' but smoulders!" The horde chorused.
Harlapple shook his head from side to side in disbelief. Idiots...
"To conquer, the unconquerable," he explained, his tone even, controlled, gentle.
"To surpass, the insurmountable," philosophical, intellectual, decisive.
"To bring Redwall to the ground," a sweep of his tail scattered the rest of the ashes.
"And avenge our comrades drowned," a moment of silence, in honor of the deceased.
"We must think outside the box," he tapped Lackfoot hard on the side of the head.
"Not just pelter it with rocks," a hard jab to Durge's prominent gut sent the rat and his boulder stumbling backwards into a cloud of dust.


"Coz we're vermin!" Lackfoot agreed, rubbing the side of his head.
"Vermin, vermin, vermin," the horde chorused.
"We'll build big ladders!" Skunksnot cried, as he Meadowblossum and Footface bent and twisted to form one.
"That'll get us in!" Dung cried, climbing their impromptu creation.
"We'll empty their bladders," Slopgut cackled, holding Milo at arm's length.
"Not to mention their larders!" the vermin all shouted.
"Tried, tested, FAILED!" Harlapple exhaled.
"I'll only say this once," the mouse held up a single claw.
"Do not play the dunce," he trod harshly on the tail of a nose-picking stoat.
"Redwall won't go down," A flick of his finger sent the 'ladder' and all on top of it tumbling into the dust to join Durge.
"When faced with a clown," he frowned in disappointment at the doggy-piled doofusses.
"Unless we play this smart," he tapped a claw against the side of his head.
"We'll be broken, ruined, vanquished," he pulled Meadowblossum out of the pile.
"Ripped limb from limb and torn apart," he growled, thankfully not providing the weasel with a visual explanation.
"Coz we're vermin!" Lackfoot cried.
"Vermin, vermin..." the stoat shrunk under the force of Harlapple's narrowed eyes. "Er- sorry boss."
"Our foe is mighty," the mouse went on, unceremoniously dumping Meadowblossum.
"They scare even me!"

"Slightly?" Slopgut swallowed audibly.



"Not at all!" Harlapple grinned.
"I was born to be a warlord," he struck an impressive pose, his cape billowing in the perfectly-timed breeze.
"Wasn't my first choice," the mouse shrunk, his ears drooping, his tail slumping to the ground, his shoulders sagging.
"Wasn't my last," he grinned and posed again.
"But times are changing," one by one he began to pull his hordebeasts to their feetpaws.
"That was all long past," a flick of his tail-spike waved away the memories.
"Now there's nothing left but forwards!"

"We will crush Redwall!" The hordebeasts cried, picking up their leader and tossing him into the air.
"Coz we're vermin!" Lackfoot cried.
"Vermin, vermin, vermin," the vermin chorused, jumping around and tumbling like the trained acrobats they were born to be.


"All I ask, beloved horde," Harlapple snapped, landing safely in Dung's outstretched paws and once more drawing their undivided attention.
"Do not waver," he shot Lackfoot a glare.
"Do not turn traitor," his fiery gaze fell upon the impassive Bill.
"Do not hesitate," he poked Dung on the snout, as the big rat let him down.
"Soon we'll have those abbeybeasts in checkmate!" Harlapple grinned, a sweep of his tail sending  the King of a conveniently placed chess-set skidding off the board.

[close]

Waaaay past the deadline but noone else seemed interested.

[Mara the Wolf]

Grey, why haven't you tried more prompts, hmmm?

[The Grey Coincidence]

Alright. New prompt.

Write me a Villainous Villain.