News:

Moderator activity in progress. Please, be patient. ~ Sincerely, The Staff

Main Menu

corin the black fox

Started by Captain Rake Nightfur, April 13, 2012, 05:39:12 PM

Previous topic - Next topic

0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.

Captain Rake Nightfur

okay uys, i'm going to start writing cap 7 now =.=' man,i hate writing blocks...)
Gave' em blood and vinegar chaps!And that's an order wot wot!

everybeast tells' "bréaga álainn." but they never help anybeast

Captain Rake Nightfur

hey guys, i'm starting to take art classes so i'm gonna be busy, but i have most of cap 7 wrote up so i should be done on Friday or Thursday .  ;D
Gave' em blood and vinegar chaps!And that's an order wot wot!

everybeast tells' "bréaga álainn." but they never help anybeast

WarriorOfMossflower

K, great! I'll get to work on chapter 1
In process of rekindling my love for Redwall.

WarriorOfMossflower

Corin the black fox stared at Redwall through piercing emerald-green eyes. The fox had been watching the Abbey for four days so far. Soon, he would make his move...
                                               *
The setting sun shone on Redwall Abbey, turning the red sandstone walls scarlet. Breeze the squirrelmaid was sitting at the pond, singing a quiet melody. The tune and her sweet voice drifted up to the Abbey walls.


"The lark sings her song
But no one calls back
She sings her song though you never look back
Then the lark flies on high to the world of sky
Where she lives there happily,
ever whistling her sweet melody..."



The quick ditty sighed on the breeze, carrying the sounds to the lawn, where Rinson, Breeze's father, and the Skipper of otters sat chatting amiably. 
"I reckin that yore daughter sings to the birds, mate," said Skipper.
"Aye!" Rinson said proudly. "Joy o' my heart an' the apple of me eye, that little maid is."
"She could charm the birds out o' the trees with that voice."
Rinson laughed, swelling his chest with pride. "I bet she does!"
Breeze saw her father and waved a paw. "Hi, you two! How are you?"
Rinson smiled. "Thank ye, Breeze, we're doin' just fine! How are ye, me little bird-charmer?"
Breeze sidled over, grinning slyly. "Y'know, I heard that the Summer Feast will be here soon..."
Skipper chuckled. "A fine singin' voice an' a good pair o' ears, that's wot yore daughter's got! Rinson, matey, the cook'd best watch out before she comes in there an' charms 'im into an early feast! I wouldn't mind, actually, 'twill be a feast to remember!"
Breeze smiled sweetly. "Certainly, Skip, I think you'll enjoy dressing up as a clown with the rest of your ottercrew!"
Skipper smote his brow in mock anguish. "Ye'd be able to sing me into it, I wager!"
Breeze giggled and skipped off, mischief glittering in her eyes.
Skipper shifted into a more comfortable position. "Well, Rinson, ye've got yore work cut out for ye with that one, that's for sure!"
Rinson sighed. "Perhaps so, Skip, but she's a good daughter. She's young, she'll grow out of it."

                                           *
Breeze walked up to a mouse about her age. "Evenin', Farris, how are you?"
The mouse was lean and tall, but of strong build. He had dark grey eyes, and was a quiet type. He dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Fine, thank you, Breeze." Though the reply was polite, it was distant and cool. Farris was not born at the Abbey; he had come 12 seasons ago, nought but a young orphan. He never spoke of his family, and was very secretive.

                                                 *
Corin the fox was watching the Abbey, waiting in the growing darkness.




You like? Hope you don't mind a few of the changes I made.
In process of rekindling my love for Redwall.

Captain Rake Nightfur

it's great, but the only Problem is the 'evening'' part. Breeze speaks with no slig or mispronounced words, and it's in the morning too, so, yeah, but I'm lucky to have such a great editor <3
Quote from: WarriorOfMossflower on September 11, 2012, 02:31:11 AM
Corin the black fox stared at Redwall through piercing emerald-green eyes. The fox had been watching the Abbey for four days so far. Soon, he would make his move...
                                               *
The setting sun shone on Redwall Abbey, turning the red sandstone walls scarlet. Breeze the squirrelmaid was sitting at the pond, singing a quiet melody. The tune and her sweet voice drifted up to the Abbey walls.


"The lark sings her song
But no one calls back
She sings her song though you never look back
Then the lark flies on high to the world of sky
Where she lives there happily,
ever whistling her sweet melody..."



The quick ditty sighed on the breeze, carrying the sounds to the lawn, where Rinson, Breeze's father, and the Skipper of otters sat chatting amiably. 
"I reckin that yore daughter sings to the birds, mate," said Skipper.
"Aye!" Rinson said proudly. "Joy o' my heart an' the apple of me eye, that little maid is."
"She could charm the birds out o' the trees with that voice."
Rinson laughed, swelling his chest with pride. "I bet she does!"
Breeze saw her father and waved a paw. "Hi, you two! How are you?"
Rinson smiled. "Thank ye, Breeze, we're doin' just fine! How are ye, me little bird-charmer?"
Breeze sidled over, grinning slyly. "Y'know, I heard that the Summer Feast will be here soon..."
Skipper chuckled. "A fine singin' voice an' a good pair o' ears, that's wot yore daughter's got! Rinson, matey, the cook'd best watch out before she comes in there an' charms 'im into an early feast! I wouldn't mind, actually, 'twill be a feast to remember!"
Breeze smiled sweetly. "Certainly, Skip, I think you'll enjoy dressing up as a clown with the rest of your ottercrew!"
Skipper smote his brow in mock anguish. "Ye'd be able to sing me into it, I wager!"
Breeze giggled and skipped off, mischief glittering in her eyes.
Skipper shifted into a more comfortable position. "Well, Rinson, ye've got yore work cut out for ye with that one, that's for sure!"
Rinson sighed. "Perhaps so, Skip, but she's a good daughter. She's young, she'll grow out of it."

                                           *
Breeze walked up to a mouse about her age. "Evenin', Farris, how are you?"
The mouse was lean and tall, but of strong build. He had dark grey eyes, and was a quiet type. He dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Fine, thank you, Breeze." Though the reply was polite, it was distant and cool. Farris was not born at the Abbey; he had come 12 seasons ago, nought but a young orphan. He never spoke of his family, and was very secretive.

                                                 *
Corin the fox was watching the Abbey, waiting in the growing darkness.




You like? Hope you don't mind a few of the changes I made.
Gave' em blood and vinegar chaps!And that's an order wot wot!

everybeast tells' "bréaga álainn." but they never help anybeast

Captain Rake Nightfur

also rinson is the quiet type...o!and i want to know  what you thought of a poem I made up for cap 8, I made it up pretty quick(3 minute) so it's probably not great but I just want t know what you think.

The world will be one with the sky's,
As the sun slips through tired gales
I wait here alone for  dear friends,
Now gone away from me,
As my tired body grows old, and my history unfolds
I see their faces clear as day, ands wish that I could join them some day.
I feel my time has come, to sat down this pen,
And lay back to see my dear friends
~ recorder glof in the time of abbot shon


R.I.P. )
Gave' em blood and vinegar chaps!And that's an order wot wot!

everybeast tells' "bréaga álainn." but they never help anybeast

WarriorOfMossflower

Quote from: Captain Rake Nightfur on September 11, 2012, 02:42:51 PM
it's great, but the only Problem is the 'evening'' part. Breeze speaks with no slig or mispronounced words, and it's in the morning too, so, yeah, but I'm lucky to have such a great editor <3
Quote from: WarriorOfMossflower on September 11, 2012, 02:31:11 AM
Corin the black fox stared at Redwall through piercing emerald-green eyes. The fox had been watching the Abbey for four days so far. Soon, he would make his move...
                                               *
The setting sun shone on Redwall Abbey, turning the red sandstone walls scarlet. Breeze the squirrelmaid was sitting at the pond, singing a quiet melody. The tune and her sweet voice drifted up to the Abbey walls.


"The lark sings her song
But no one calls back
She sings her song though you never look back
Then the lark flies on high to the world of sky
Where she lives there happily,
ever whistling her sweet melody..."



The quick ditty sighed on the breeze, carrying the sounds to the lawn, where Rinson, Breeze's father, and the Skipper of otters sat chatting amiably. 
"I reckin that yore daughter sings to the birds, mate," said Skipper.
"Aye!" Rinson said proudly. "Joy o' my heart an' the apple of me eye, that little maid is."
"She could charm the birds out o' the trees with that voice."
Rinson laughed, swelling his chest with pride. "I bet she does!"
Breeze saw her father and waved a paw. "Hi, you two! How are you?"
Rinson smiled. "Thank ye, Breeze, we're doin' just fine! How are ye, me little bird-charmer?"
Breeze sidled over, grinning slyly. "Y'know, I heard that the Summer Feast will be here soon..."
Skipper chuckled. "A fine singin' voice an' a good pair o' ears, that's wot yore daughter's got! Rinson, matey, the cook'd best watch out before she comes in there an' charms 'im into an early feast! I wouldn't mind, actually, 'twill be a feast to remember!"
Breeze smiled sweetly. "Certainly, Skip, I think you'll enjoy dressing up as a clown with the rest of your ottercrew!"
Skipper smote his brow in mock anguish. "Ye'd be able to sing me into it, I wager!"
Breeze giggled and skipped off, mischief glittering in her eyes.
Skipper shifted into a more comfortable position. "Well, Rinson, ye've got yore work cut out for ye with that one, that's for sure!"
Rinson sighed. "Perhaps so, Skip, but she's a good daughter. She's young, she'll grow out of it."

                                           *
Breeze walked up to a mouse about her age. "Evenin', Farris, how are you?"
The mouse was lean and tall, but of strong build. He had dark grey eyes, and was a quiet type. He dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Fine, thank you, Breeze." Though the reply was polite, it was distant and cool. Farris was not born at the Abbey; he had come 12 seasons ago, nought but a young orphan. He never spoke of his family, and was very secretive.

                                                 *
Corin the fox was watching the Abbey, waiting in the growing darkness.




You like? Hope you don't mind a few of the changes I made.
K, are you sure you want it to be morning or evening, because at the beginning you mentioned that the sunset was turning the Abbey walls a rosy hue or whatever, so I took it to be evening.
Correction acknowledged. Breeze has no slang.
In process of rekindling my love for Redwall.

WarriorOfMossflower

Quote from: Captain Rake Nightfur on September 11, 2012, 02:50:54 PM
also rinson is the quiet type...o!and i want to know  what you thought of a poem I made up for cap 8, I made it up pretty quick(3 minute) so it's probably not great but I just want t know what you think.

The world will be one with the sky's,
As the sun slips through tired gales
I wait here alone for  dear friends,
Now gone away from me,
As my tired body grows old, and my history unfolds
I see their faces clear as day, ands wish that I could join them some day.
I feel my time has come, to sat down this pen,
And lay back to see my dear friends
~ recorder glof in the time of abbot shon


R.I.P. )
Acknowledged. I'll make sure he sounds quieter in following chapters.

As for the poem, I like the poem as a whole, but it could be made to flow a little better. I can edit it a little bit if you want. It was made quickly, so that's understandable.
(No offense.)
In process of rekindling my love for Redwall.

Captain Rake Nightfur

no, i'll work on the poem today, yeah i know it's not all that good Xd i'm aweful writer, anyway about the evening  thing, sorry i was sleepy when i wrote it, so i guess it is evening. but you do a really great job, so i'm grateful for you to even be helping me. ^.^ i'll try to be more clear in the future

~ Rake. )
Quote from: WarriorOfMossflower on September 12, 2012, 03:14:19 AM
Quote from: Captain Rake Nightfur on September 11, 2012, 02:50:54 PM
also rinson is the quiet type...o!and i want to know  what you thought of a poem I made up for cap 8, I made it up pretty quick(3 minute) so it's probably not great but I just want t know what you think.

The world will be one with the sky's,
As the sun slips through tired gales
I wait here alone for  dear friends,
Now gone away from me,
As my tired body grows old, and my history unfolds
I see their faces clear as day, ands wish that I could join them some day.
I feel my time has come, to sat down this pen,
And lay back to see my dear friends
~ recorder glof in the time of abbot shon


R.I.P. )
Acknowledged. I'll make sure he sounds quieter in following chapters.

As for the poem, I like the poem as a whole, but it could be made to flow a little better. I can edit it a little bit if you want. It was made quickly, so that's understandable.
(No offense.)
Gave' em blood and vinegar chaps!And that's an order wot wot!

everybeast tells' "bréaga álainn." but they never help anybeast

WarriorOfMossflower

Quote from: Captain Rake Nightfur on September 12, 2012, 01:28:56 PM
no, i'll work on the poem today, yeah i know it's not all that good Xd i'm aweful writer, anyway about the evening  thing, sorry i was sleepy when i wrote it, so i guess it is evening. but you do a really great job, so i'm grateful for you to even be helping me. ^.^ i'll try to be more clear in the future

~ Rake. )
Quote from: WarriorOfMossflower on September 12, 2012, 03:14:19 AM
Quote from: Captain Rake Nightfur on September 11, 2012, 02:50:54 PM
also rinson is the quiet type...o!and i want to know  what you thought of a poem I made up for cap 8, I made it up pretty quick(3 minute) so it's probably not great but I just want t know what you think.

The world will be one with the sky's,
As the sun slips through tired gales
I wait here alone for  dear friends,
Now gone away from me,
As my tired body grows old, and my history unfolds
I see their faces clear as day, ands wish that I could join them some day.
I feel my time has come, to sat down this pen,
And lay back to see my dear friends
~ recorder glof in the time of abbot shon


R.I.P. )
Acknowledged. I'll make sure he sounds quieter in following chapters.

As for the poem, I like the poem as a whole, but it could be made to flow a little better. I can edit it a little bit if you want. It was made quickly, so that's understandable.
(No offense.)
No problem, glad to help!
In process of rekindling my love for Redwall.

Captain Rake Nightfur

#100
it's here!)

                                                                  7
The heat was deafening, so was a lot of voices
"why you little....what do you think you doing?!"
Farris,rigon and the otter named aden were having a bit of a fight with a mouse named Ailen, farris having been walking and bumping into the ill tempered mouse. Rigon and  aden had been on they're way to the cellar to get some cooking cider from Eadu longspike the cellar hog
Farris stood arms over his chest, try to keep his temper in check "I didn't see you, and I said I was sorry..."
"unacceptable!! "
Aden then decided  to step in  'look-"  
The mouse turn "back off river dog!'
The mother abbess Mitreeo at that ever moment was walking down the tunnel of flowing rose the gardener had put up with loving care, the red, white and yellow beauties, some fallen on the ground making a lovely carpet, the few thorn, that where there were like tiny swords, protecting the roses from enemies. The abbess sighed in respire as she picked up a fallen rose, it was pink, and delicate, the stem of which relieved that some beast and torn it off the plant "I must tell the dinduns about doing that...' she mused to herself, then hearing the shouts she floated gracefully over to see what was going on.
                                     *
The hare raketam and a large group of hares were sitting in the mess hall at Salamandastron, the hares were chatting, singing, eating, having food fights, and generally  being hares. Many begin calling for raketam to sing a old highland song and raketam, after a few prods from his friend begin in a strong clear voice, his comrades join in on the choruses, and, to the delight of the hares younger then raketam, he begin to do a classic river dance in time to the music never missing a beat. and the old hares' who had heard the song before played flutes, drums and even a horn pip to the tune!

"*Oh then, tell mah Seán O'Farrell, tell mah why you hurry so?
"Hush a bhuachaill, hush and listen", an' his cheeks were all aglow,
"I bear orders from the cap'n:- get yer ready quick an' soon
For the pikes must be together by the rising o' the moon!"
By the rising o' the moon, by the rising o' the moon,

For the pikes must be together by the rising o' the moon

"An' come tell mah Seán O'Farrell where the gath'rin' is tae be?"
"In the old spot by the river, right well known tae ye and mah.
One more word for signal token:- whistle out the marchin' tune,
With yer pike upon yer shoulder, by the rising o' the moon."
By the rising o' the moon, by the rising o' the moon
With yer pike upon yer shoulder, by the rising o'  the moon.

Out from many a mud wall cabin eyes were watching through the night,
Many a beastly chest was throbbin', for the blessed morning light.
Murmurs ran along the valleys like the banshee's lonely croon
And a thousand pikes were flashin' at the rising o' the moon.
At the rising o' the moon, at the rising o' the moon.
And a thousand pikes were flashin' by the rising o' the moon.

There beside the singin' river that black mass of warriors was seen,
High above their shining weapons flew their own beloved green.
"Death tae every foe an' traitor! Forward strike the marchin' tune."
And hurrah my boys for freedom; 'tis the rising of the moon".
Tis the rising of the moon, 'tis the rising o' the moon
And hurrah mah boys for freedom; 'Tis the risin' o' the moon".

Well they fought for the poor old highlands , and full bitter was our fate,
Oh what glorious pride and sorrow, fills the name of ninety-eight!
Yet, thank goodness, e'en still are beating hearts in warriorhood burning noon,
Who would follow in their footsteps, at the rising of the moon
At the rising of the moon, At the rising of the moon
Who would follow in their footsteps, at the risin' o' the moon."

After the chapping and back slapping was finished raketam and the hare, sandbuck longsite walked slowly up to the  Forge camber both young hare waited a moment before knocking an have a cough to be sure they were heard, a loud booming voice reply
"who is it?"
Raketam stood straight and tall as he bark out;  "Eastern gallopers an' trackers reportin' , sir!"
There was a pause then;
"come in."
The two young hares walked in; they looked around, They had entered the realm of the badger lords'. Weapons and shields, coats of armor made from sliver, gold and the hardest metals ever found decorated the rough, yet cozy room, but greatest of all was Lord Ironclaw Grimrip himself standing taller then the hares long ears, he was a formidable figure with dark brown eyes and a scar running across his shoulder blades, which he had gotten no doubt in some great battle.  The young hares couldn't help but gaze in awe of this strong, but wise creature. Ironclaw looked down at them then the smallest smile played  on his lips,
"well?" he said. "do you plan on gulping there all day?"
Both the hare immediately jumped -so to speak- to attention.
Ironclaw chuckled then he grow serious once more, "right, what is the new?'
Raketam  and sandbuck exchanged  glances.
"Well sir." begin the tall highland hare
"Ye ken it was fine up until we got to the high dunes down a pace tae the north-east,  there was a little surprise there awaitin' us, sir.'
The badger lord eyed the hare
"What surprise?"
"Vermin, tiwas vermin, sar."
The badger lords' eyes lit up momentarily
"Vermin?'
"Aye."
The badger lord paced over to hid window seat, casting its' view over, the now amber tinted sea "right.' he said "Here's what we'll do. get Captain Sean, and Major Crunsbort will you?"
                                                     *
After rake tam had told the offices, he walked to a ledge outside of the fort, he sat looking at the full, reddish tinted moon, gazing wistfully at it.
"No beast can take your memories away from ya, no matter how hard thy try."
He quoted as the stars peeped out from their hiding placesand took their place in the sky one by one, , and the sea lapped on the shore, a small crab waddled over the sands, raketams thoughts drifted into his past.
He had come from a old family of ruler over the mountains, but the vermin had come in the 6th season of his life, taking everything dear to him away, and leaving him to die in the cold snows, but hope springs anew if one trusts fate. And that had been the case with the small hare, he had been found by a elderly female hare name Densee, Desee had clothed him, feed him, for the as long as he could remember of her. But alas she had die when he was 12 season old, with great sorrow he had buried the old hare in a quiet glade.
And had left the highlands, taking his last reminder of his heritage, a beautiful sword made by his grandfather. a long the way he had met vermin and woodland creatures, having saved the family of bank voles they had given him a cloak and food, rowing even farther he had ended up at Salamandastron at the age of  thirteen seasons, that was two seasons ago. He sighed thinking about what the vermin had said when they had left him to die;
" 'Ya an't gonna last long ya little brat, but we kn'w that, so that's why we leavin' ye to see your family aga'n."

"bréaga álainn.*" he said getting up, and said to the moon as his witness
"Ach Ní raibh mé bás!**"
Then hearing a twig snapping he turned around.
                                                        *
Corin had packed his bag and was just about to walk off in to the darkness when he heard a voice.
"Corin!Wait!"
He turned around to see rigon and Fariss standing with cloaks and food packs in their hand
"we're coming with you!"
They said together.



*this song is an Irish folk song. I own not of this, I only use  in the best fitting way I see in this book.(I also changed the words so it would said more like a hare song. even though I picked it because it sound like one...I changed the 'man' parts to 'beast' or pretends /pasterns as needed. and change ninety-eight to salamandastron and so on and so forth...DX)


*beautiful lies
**but I didn't die!
Gave' em blood and vinegar chaps!And that's an order wot wot!

everybeast tells' "bréaga álainn." but they never help anybeast

phoenixfoden


Captain Rake Nightfur

Gave' em blood and vinegar chaps!And that's an order wot wot!

everybeast tells' "bréaga álainn." but they never help anybeast

Redwaller


WarriorOfMossflower

 2       
Wellcane paced impatiently. Where had that Seer got to? He looked up as his wife walked past with a young vixen named Kei. Kei was not born into the horde, having been a gentle healer in the past. The young vixen was suprisingly reluctant to join in the traditional activities; even now, she never took part in the fights and killing raids. Silneow the vixen took immediately to Kei; the healer reminded her of her lost son...the unnamed cub, drowned by now. And I was the one who killed him! The thought was enough to make her weep at night sometimes.
Wellcane growled at them. "Vixen! Where is my Seer?"
Silneow stared him coolly in the eyes. "I know nought. She is your Seer, Lord." The last word was more a mocking taunt than a formal title.
Wellcane stalked off in a foul mood. The nerve of that vixen! He hadn't the time to deal with her now, though. He spotted the Seer coming from the outer fringe of the woodlands to the southwest and confronted her. "Where have you been?" he snarled nastily.
The Seer bowed hastily. "Lord, I have had a sign. Methinks trouble is brewing, sire."
Wellcane raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "What kind of trouble?"
"I know nought, Lord. I have seen the omens, though."
He leaned closer, eager. "What do they tell you?"
The Seer cast her stones.

"The secret lies with black, the pen and knife the key,
the one who knows the green will be satisfied.
the one with ink will find her heart's desire,
if the omens have not lied.
The tale is undone,
the chosen one has come."

                                                      *
Corin the fox watched the Abbey and sighed.There was no way that an Abbeybeast, let alone a Skipper of otters, was going to let him in. He was a fox, after all. So how was he meant to get in without using force?

                                                      *
Farris the young mouse was walking along the battlements. He looked at the woods and froze in shock. Was that...Corin?


There you have it, sorry I took so long!
In process of rekindling my love for Redwall.