Romsca- the story

[Captain Tammo]

i liked using years, but I felt it made my story's flow skip a little when i wanted to mention seasons. Whatever you go with, go with it 100%

[Maudie]

I like this new part! The 'goodbeasts' seem kind bad, but whatever!

[Romsca]

-Chapter 3-

(edited version)

http://redwallabbey.com/forum/index.php?topic=4494.msg218556#msg218556

[Romsca]

I should have said this earlier, but accents are assumed. I can't write a good, consistent Irish or Scottish accent

[Captain Tammo]

Nice work! can you tell me a little more about the village they're in? i'm curious.

[Tam and Martin]

Would seasons equal years in your story? If so I say use seasons.

Great job on the story too!

[Romsca]

Well... that was just the rough draft. When I finish editing it (for the time being, at least), I'll post that. It should have a lot more details

[Maudie]

Just something I noticed, both Hamish and Siobhan sound like Jewish names. And Seumas seems more like a Redwall name than Hamish me, but more fitting for a badger lord than a ferret.

[Romsca]

Siobhan is an Irish Gaelic name, Hamish is simply how Seumas is pronounced (Scottish Gaelic is pronounced differently! ). They have"people names", not typical Redwall names. They are not, however, Jewish names

[Romsca]

Here is the edited version of chapter three:

-Chapter 3-

Siobhan came out of the ocean dripping wet and freezing cold. I hope they won’t come after me, she thought. She shivered. The weather was not nearly as warm as it was on Green Isle. It was only early autumn, but here it already felt like winter. About an eighth of a mile or so from the ocean, extending as far as she could see in either direction, was a sharp cliff. Behind the cliff, she could see the tops of mountains. A few small huts were near the cliff. A few seagulls flew overhead. She noticed that, despite some grass and shrubs on the cliff, there were almost no plants. She shivered again, and wished she had a cloak. Who would want to live in a place like this? It looks so miserable, she thought.

She heard splashing behind her. She turned and saw the squirrel climbing out of the water. He looked even colder and wetter than she did. He waited for a few moments, noticed her, and ran after her. She ran towards the cliff, hoping he would give up chasing her. She glanced behind her and saw that he continued to chase her. When she came to the cliff, she turned right and ran alongside it. Since the squirrel had been some distance behind her, he changed his direction and almost cut her off. He was close behind her. She glanced back to see where he was, and she tripped on a rock.

She scraped up her face and paws. They were sticky with blood and stung badly. Just as she was starting to get up, the squirrel jumped on her and pushed her to the ground. Immediately, she felt a blade at the back of her neck.

“Don’t move,” he ordered.

She had dropped her dirk when she fell! It was only a few feet away. She reached out to grab it, but it was a little too far away.

“I wonder what would happen if we brought a dead ferret to the badger. You know, he probably wouldn’t care if you died,” he threatened.

“Oh, he probably would care. How do I know that that Brushtail squirrel wasn’t making that up? I bet he was!” she challenged.

“Even if he was, I’m going to kill you now, anyway!” He raised his knife into the air and prepared to bring it down.

Siobhan closed her eyes and prepared for the worst. The squirrel grinned.

“The only good vermin’s–” he never finished his sentence. He fell to the side, a crossbow bolt in his chest. He shuddered, blood pouring from his mouth and his wound. Then he was still.

Siobhan got up shakily. I’ve never seen anybeast die before. I almost died. He really wanted to kill me. He was killed. She wanted to throw up. Instead, she felt faint and started to cry. After a few minutes, she was able to pull herself together. Avoiding the dead squirrel, she looked to see who had shot the bolt. A ferret carrying a crossbow was walking towards her.

“Are you okay, lassie?” he asked when he got close enough for her to hear him.

“Yes, I think.” She paused. “Um, what are we going to do with the squirrel?”

“Leave him,” he answered. As if reading her thoughts, he added, “We can’t bury him. We don’t have anything to bury him with, you ken.”

“Poor squirrel. He didn’t have to die like that.” She shuddered.

“He would have killed you had I not shot him.” He walked over and looked at the unfortunate squirrel.

“Well, thank you for saving my life.”

He nodded in acknowledgement and bent down to pull the bolt out of the squirrel.

Siobhan turned her head away. She couldn’t watch. After a few minutes, he was done. He walked down to the ocean and cleaned off the bolt with the ocean water and put it away.

When he had come back, he asked, “How did you come here?” He could tell she was from somewhere else because of what she was wearing.

“I was kidnapped by the squirrels and hedgehogs.”

Her accent sounded familiar. “Are you from Green Isle?”

“Yes. Do you know any way for me to get back?” she asked anxiously.

“None that I can think of. It’s too far for me to row. However, there’s a port about forty miles or so south of here, I think. I haven’t traveled that far south.”

Siobhan looked towards the mainland. She was used to the land being greener. “Does it all look like this here? It’s kind of, well…”

“Boring?”

She nodded hesitantly.

He laughed quietly to himself in agreement. “It does look like that from here, but view is much better from the cliffs.”

They walked away from the dead squirrel in silence, presumably towards the village he had mentioned. After several minutes, Siobhan spoke.

“Where am I going to stay?”

“I know of an inn close by. You could stay there. I’ve heard they usually need help serving food.”

“By the way, my name’s Siobhan. What’s yours?”

“My name’s Hamish*.” While he was thinking of something else to say, he noticed they were near the small village. “Well, here we are.”

Siobhan looked at the small village. It was far smaller and simpler than she was used to and she had expected. “It’s... not quite what I’m used to.” She took a deep breath and decided she would try to look past it. “By the way, would there be a way to contact my family? They’re probably worried sick about me. I’ll probably be here awhile, too. I can’t afford to go back at the moment. It would be too expensive.”

Does she always talk that much? Hamish thought. “Aye, I’m sure there is.”

“Are you a warrior? You killed that squirrel.”

Why is she asking me so many questions? “No, I fish.” He glanced up at the cliffs to their left, sunlight glinting off of his blue eyes.

He’s kind of cute, Siobhan thought. “How old are you?” she asked.

No more questions. Please! He thought. However, he reluctantly answered, “Almost eighteen.”

Good. He’s about my age.“Why are you asking me so many questions?” he asked.

“Oh… no reason.” She blushed. “Just, um, curious.”

Yeah, right. “Just curious”. I don’t know about that. For some reason, he felt himself asking, “What about you?”

“I’m eighteen,” she said, and she giggled softly.

This is so awkward… Hamish thought. Thankfully, he saw they were finally at the inn. “We’re here.” He opened the door and they went in.

A stout hedgehog greeted them. Siobhan was cautious, expecting the hedgehog to be unfriendly to them. However, he didn’t seem to mind that they were ferrets. The hedgehog apparently recognized Hamish. Maybe it doesn’t matter here, she thought.

“And who are you? We don’t get many foreigners in these parts,” the hedgehog said to her.

She was put at ease by the hedgehog’s friendliness. “I’m Siobhan Reilly. I’m from Green Isle. Is there any way I can work here?” She was about to explain her predicament to the hedgehog, but she decided against it because she thought it may not sound too good if the hedgehog heard she had been running from squirrels, hedgehogs, and a badger. Instead, she decided to only explain part of what she had gone through. “I have been separated from my family. I need some way to earn money so I can pay to get back to them. Can I work here?”

“Well, we don’t pay very much, so it might be a while before you earn enough. But yes, you can stay here while you work.”

“Thank you, I will.”

“Any chance we could get some food?” Hamish asked.

“Aye. There’s tables over there.” The hedgehog motioned to the other side of the room.

An otter led them to the tables. Siobhan was surprised that the “goodbeasts” hadn’t threatened them.

“Are they dangerous?” Siobhan whispered after they had sat down.

“Hmm?” Hamish replied. He had been looking out a window, thinking about the food.

“Are the otters and hedgehogs dangerous?”

He seemed slightly confused. “No. Why should they be?”

Lowering her voice, she looked around to make sure no one was listening. “Because we’re “vermin”, that’s why.”

“That doesn’t matter this far north. That’s more when you get into the Lowlands or Green Isle or even as far south as Mossflower. It’s not like that up here.”

“So we can trust them?”

“To not want to kill us because we’re ferrets? Yes. With anything else? Not necessarily.”

The otter came and gave them their food.

After they ate, Hamish left, and Siobhan learned from the hedgehog what she was going to do while working there. After she did, she got permission to write to her family. She did, and one of the workers there, a fox (surprisingly), was leaving the following day to travel to the port. She gave the fox her letter to give to someone sailing to Green Isle. She decided not to travel back there until she heard back from them.

After three days’ journey farther north, Brushtail came to the forge where they were delivering the iron ore for the badger’s weapons. Brushtail had decided that the ferret hadn’t been worth chasing; the squirrel would probably get her, and, if not, she would probably die anyway by whatever goodbeasts found her. As the squirrels and hedgehogs unloaded their ship, Brushtail decided to talk to the badger himself. He found the badger fixing an old, dented spearhead.

“Sir,” Brushtail addressed the badger, “We captured a ferret, and we were going to bring her here so she could stay in your dungeons, but she escaped.”

“I don’t deal with vermin cruelly. Please take them somewhere else next time. I have work to do, Brushtail. You are dismissed.”

Brushtail left, dumbfounded.

* His name is Seumas, a Gaelic name, but it is written as Hamish (Anglicization of Seumas) for the reader’s convenience.

[Tam and Martin]

That is awesome!

[Romsca]

Thanks!

[Kitsune]

"I can't afford to back at the moment. It would be too expensive."

Do you mean "I can't afford to go back at the moment."? Other than that, it's great!

[Blaggut]

Gripping, but be more descriptive, and I havent completely read pearls or high rhulain, but isn't romsca more.. Backstabbing style common vermin?

[Romsca]

Romsca hasn't been born yet. Siobhan is her mom