Everwinter Blades(Redwall Fanfiction)

[Balvayne]

In order to keep my muses rolling along for my novel, I decided it would be fun to be creative in the world that inspired my book. With that said, here's a Redwall fanfiction based on the oh so enticing "What if the Abbey fell?" question many of us wonder. Here's The Everwinter Blades. Chapter 1 is a little rushed because I've been up since 2 a.m and didn't feel like editing the post xD. Oh and Chapter 1 isn't exactly finished either >.<, but I figured I'd post what I had.
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Chapter 1: Forsaken

Winter is a dreaded fiend. Its grasp chills beasts to the bone, locking them in a cold embrace forever. Once upon a time, winter was viewed as such. Beasts saw it as a colder season in which snow fell. While it had its infamous frigid nature, some beasts actually found comfort during its reign. After all, building snowmice was a hobby at Redwall Abbey for the youngsters. Dibbuns would remain caught in the white wonderland for hours.

However, recent years had taught all beasts of Redwall to fear the coming of winter. Gone was the joyous Redwall Abbey. After season upon season, year upon year, someone had finally taken over the Abbey. Impossible—any sane beast claimed that the abbey would never fall. Unfortunately, vermin perseverance finally caught up with the peaceful abbeydwellers. At a time where all threats seemed to fall away like dust in the wind, why would peaceful beasts need a warrior? Such ignorance created their downfall.

Who was capable of orchestrating a vermin victory? Surely it couldn't have been the average warlord, right? Of course not. The victor was more than a warlord, he was Nolvolf Darkmoon! The vicious wolf wore an iron fist—a family trait passed down the family for centuries. The Abbey had put up a valiant fight, but in the end failed. How could they succeed against a beast with tyranny and war running through his veins?

If the downfall of Redwall Abbey wasn't unpredictable, than Nolvolf's betrayal was. The night after victory, his army and loyal subjects betrayed the vermin of Mossflower. Abbey dwellers forever became slaves, servants, working in and around the Abbey. Vermin and some gentlebeasts in Mossflower became peasants, low class workers, merchants barely able to make a cent.

Oh, but Nolvolf's tyranny did not end there, not at all. Salamandastron? Decimated. It served as a graveyard, a grim reminder of the final struggle to hold Nolvolf from attaining complete control. Unfortunately, their struggle was futile. Hares and the last badger lord perished, their names lost to the sands of time.

With great ease, Nolvolf could have stretched out to foreign lands or deeper into the land Mossflower Country sat on, but he didn't. After all, he didn't need to. He had his own little kingdom, empire, seat of rule, however you want to put it. The wolf's powerful greed paid off quite well in his eyes.

The Darkmoon family itself stretched five generations, each ruler just as wicked as the founder himself. The Abbey? Smack dab at the back of large city. At the end of Mossflower sits a port town. In the middle, a very small town. The rest of Mossflower? Woods and a village here and there.

Who heads the Mossflower "kingdom" now? Tyrian Nolvolf Darkmoon. The monstrous brute is a mirror image of his distant relative. His eyes, black as an abyss. His fur, dark gray. His claws? Sharp enough to rip a seductive grin off any adder.

Tyrian knows winter is the harshest season and thus it is when he's the hardest on his "weaker" subjects. Does he care? No. In fact, that's when he taxes the most. It's "population control." He gets rid of the Mossflower insects and keeps his followers, guards, and loyal subjects healthy. However, with each year worse than the next, some say the next winter will be the worst ever. Others say it'll the winter that one beast is pushed around one time too many....


Snow placed its chilly blanket over Mossflower. Once a beautiful and grand region, it now remained fallen as the dead trees that filled it. The scars of war were as unkind as the winter that plagued it—in short, it was an empty and bleak land. Not even the free flying birds stuck around. Yet, through its misery, there were still newcomers who failed to get Mossflower's memo. Trudging through the endless cold was a pair of beasts: a ferret and rat. Perhaps it was better to say the ferret did all of the work, because leaning on him weakly, was the rat.

The ferret itself was lean, yet fit. Sturdy was a perfect way to describe him. Composed of the standard ferret fur color, he seemed rather ordinary. If anything stuck out, it was his one emerald green eye. The left eye was shielded by a heavy black cloth tied diagonally around his head. He wore a heavy black cloak, wrapped tightly around his body. The hood was up, providing only slight warmth. A longsword and shield was slung across his back, both of which looked very worn. In fact, the crest on the shield was almost gone. The symbol? Unknown to anyone from the region.

Greck, as he called himself, looked to his rat companion. The rat was suffering a major blade wound to his torso. Greck shook his head in despair. Their journey was tiring. He didn't know how much longer he could carry Burro.

Trying to be as gentle as possible, Greck plopped the rat against a tree. Hunched over, the ferret wiped his brow, panting. He rubbed his gloved paws together and looked in every direction. Smoke! the ferret's mind boomed anxiously. His emerald eye found its way back to Burro and a small smile formed on his features. "Hey, Burro...look...smoke, we're almost there eh? Looks like that Darkmoon guard didn't succeed eh? Told ya we'd pass through Mossflower jus' fine."

"Heh, mate...no...tis okay...you go on..." the rat replied weakly, his eyes shutting.

Greck shook his head, bending over and attempting to lift the bloodied rat once more. "Ahh no no, no. No. C'mon, Burro, we're almost there eh? Jus' a couple more miles. Beast would be crazy to refuse to treat you if we pay them. If rumors are true about this Mossflower place, beasts are despe—"

"Stop, please, Greck...I could see it in yer eye this whole day mate...I'm dyin'—you're gettin' tired yerself...please...jus' keep goin'," Burro pleaded, a tear freezing up on his face as soon as it fell.

"Burro, stick in there matey."

"Greck..."

Greck shook his head, but was forced to say no more. He knew his companion's mind was made when a quaint bloodied necklace was plopped into the ferret's paw. Greck raised a brow and smirked lightly.
"Mate, wha's this?"

"You wanted to know why I agreed to pass through 'ere?...promise me...if you find a mouse family by the name of Lightbreeze, tis theirs. They're distant cousins—" Burro stopped, choking on the sinister cold air. He shook his head gently, patted Greck's paw. "I can see the Darkforest mate...tisn't...tisn't...so....bad..." Coughing, wheezing, all signs of life leaving the rat commenced. Burro's raspy breathing became short and desperate.

Greck's face contorted. A frown became apparent on his features. Heaving a sigh he gave his deceased companion a long hug. Saying goodbye was never easy was it? "You'll live in me, my friend. Always." Time against him, the ferret turned his back and continued onward to the smoke in the distance. Alone, desperate for food, and lost, the ferret had to take the first thing he could get.

[Tsarmina]

I love it! Amazing, really!
Can't wait for more!

~Tsarmi

[Tiria Wildlough]

Nice! But the bit about Salamandastron made me feel really sad.

[Balvayne]

@Tsarmina: Thanks a lot, appreciate that : ). Here comes the rest of chapter 1.

@Tiria: Yeah I didn't enjoy writing it, but the emotional hook of Salamandastron's fall is powerful : ( . Glad ya liked it ^^

I know this next post is short...but yeah it's only the remainder of chapter one =p. Chapter 2 will be up soon.

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Chapter 1: Forsaken (Remainder of the chapter)

It didn't take long, before a feverish sweat greeted Greck with open arms. Despite his unwillingness to take part in such an embrace, it found a way to succeed. Tightening his grasp on himself, he released a shiver. "C-cursed c-c-coldsweat! Hellsteeth its cold!" If only Burro was still with him, the journey wouldn't be nearly as bad. Hope in his eye, the ferret peered into the distance, seeking out the smoke once again; much closer than before, he couldn't help but give a blue lipped smile.

Even with winter nipping at his paws and mind, the warrior ventured on tirelessly. Death had drawn its blade with Greck on multiple occasions, but he wasn't going to win the duel just yet! A shabby town sat waiting for him in the distance, getting nearer with every step. Gaining a second wind, the beast picked up the pace as if suddenly granted the strength of a badger. Snow was nothing. The cold air was nothing. Yes, it was just Greck and the town waiting to meet like long lost lovers.

As the ferret neared the town, he couldn't help but feel an odd sense of distrust overwhelm him. Darkmoon banners littered the houses and pompous guards patrolled the icy streets. "Of course," the ferret muttered in distaste. Remaining focused on his business, the ferret set out to find some warmth. Tavern, house, tent, it didn't really matter, all he wanted was to be bundled up in blankets eating warm broth! Although the beast was drawn in by dreams of hospitality, it wasn't long before he found himself distanced and cautious.

Forgetting the occasional skeptical glare from guards, Greck found himself locked onto the state of so many of the towns folk. There were no dibbuns dashing about merrily. Maidens singing? Never. The houses were in worse condition than he initially thought. In fact, if he didn't know any better, the beasts stayed in the run down quality houses for the sake of warmth. To add, beasts of all ages remained huddled up in the snow around small campfires with the always watching eyes of the guards upon them. On occasion, Greck was able to spot an act of villainy toward a beast. Shaking his head in dismay, the ferret decided his stay would have to be as short as possible.

"Forget this cursed place. I've found Hellsgates itself," the ferret whispered unpleasantly. Adjusting his buckler on his back, Greck stopped in his steps. Upon finishing, he scoped the area attentively, looking for any home that seemed welcoming—what a joke!—they were all horrific. Yet, a miracle found Greck. A voice called out to him, causing his ears to raise high. Turning to the direction of the voices, he found himself at the attention of a squirrel family.

A father—or whom he assumed was the father—waved a beckoning paw. "Hurry, before the guards focus too much on ye!"

Greck glanced about. The glares he received were adding in number. He also had no room to be picky now, did he? Taking the opportunity in front of him, the ferret plodded on over to the ratty house. Perhaps he wasn't as forsaken as he thought.

[Hálig]

Wow, awesome! Do you have a plan as to how the whole story will work out?

[Balvayne]

Heh, very good question. My answer: sort of. Unfortunately, a lot of my planning time goes to my actual novel since I have people waiting for it to be done by September, so this story remains a loose outline with a sort of "plan as you go" mentality to it xD. And thanks, glad you liked it!

[Nightfire]

I think it great! But also, I thinks it's sad.  When is your next chapter coming out?

[Balvayne]

Thank-you, and yes, very grim : ( but it gets cheery and epic, or so I hope. The next chapter will be out in the next couple days.

[Balvayne]

I apologize for the double post, but it was needed for me to post chapter two. With that in mind, let's continue our journey with Greck, shall we? It's a rather shorter chapter and a bit rushed, but that's the joy of fanfiction—doesn't have to be perfect! xD

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Chapter 2: An Exchange of Goods

Times had changed greatly. Vermin were trampled on just as any goodbeast was. The fact of the matter was that with the Darkmoon family in charge of Mossflower, life would be miserable for all. There was no prejudice, no targeted beasts, no discrimination—just pure hatred. Knowing this all too well, beasts were desperate for any type of savior that presented him or herself. The latter was exactly what Jak Redbrush had in mind; seeing an armed beast besides a guard was a godsend.

After all, when could they be picky? When Redwall was in goodbeasts' paws again? Probably not. The Darkmoon banner had made its way across Mossflower. Success wasn't in just capturing Redwall but the freeing of all who remained shackled by Darkmoon tyranny. Furthermore, the only way to build to a reclamation effort was to start off small, such as befriending and protecting any war-worthy traveler they could find.

Lean with aloof fur, the father of three appeared like a homeless wanderer. His bright green eyes had bags under them and he walked with a limp in his step. At his side, he held an arm wrapped around his wife, Maria, who seemed just as run down. Her red-brown fur was ragged, brown doe eyes sat in her head filled with fear and regret. Both wore tattered clothes that looked like they hadn't been washed in days. Gruff and blunt in his opening, Jak waved his paw toward Greck's blade and shield. "If ye plan on living, I suggest ya remove that stuff and hide it."

Greck's eyes remained half opened. An unamused snicker formed on his features. "Telling a warrior to remove his blade is a death sentence where I'm from. Tell me," Greck began, examining the rest of the family: twin male dibbuns with bright red fur who probably had no idea what was going on, and a young maiden with the brown fur of her father and eyes of her mother," what do you think you and your family gained inviting me in here?"

Despite his rundown appearance, Jak remained steadfast. He may have looked as destroyed as his house, but his spirit was an ever burning flame. "A chance, that's it. If you want to head back in the wild, freezing your tail off, and hoping the Darkmoon guards don't take you to the cells, then fine, door's that way." Truthful words such as those stung any beast.

And yet, Greck was unaffected. Yes, he was starting to grow numb out there but he would've found warmth eventually, right? "Fine. Enjoy your misery." The ferret turned around, immediately stomping toward the door. This was of course, until a faint touch met his arm. Clenching his fist, he was prepared to strike, but instead paused at the sound of the young maiden's voice.

"Please, sir traveler, excuse my father...he's distraught—impatient even—we all are. After losing my brother Freth—"

"You think you're the only ones who lost someone? Look around you. Death circles your town like a crow waiting for his pickins. It chases anyone in this cursed land. Grief isn't going to change my mind." Stinging from the death of Burro, he was in no mood to feel sympathy, empathy, guilt, whatever it was they wanted!

"I—sorry, but please, sir, just hear us out. Look at yourself! You're freezing! We can offer you warmth, shelter, food, and a place to stay."

Greck sneered, removing his paw from the door handle. "There's always a catch."

"Sonya, let him be," Maria whispered from behind Jak. Her twin sons, Ruggle and Hudge remained silent, watching on in hiding as well.

"Aye, let me be," Greck said softly.

"No. Please, ferret. Yes, there's a catch, but I promise you it'll pay off, right, father?" Sonya edged on. Jak nodded slowly upon being dragged back into the conversation.

"How d'ya figure? Go ahead, tell me what you want so bad."

Jak stepped forward, arms crossed. "You're a beast who looks like he can hold his own. I need an escort. The travel isn't far, I can promise you that—"

"Your family sure likes to bargain with promises they can't keep." Yawning, Greck rolled his eyes and gave minimal attention.

"A Redbrush promise is an unbreakable one, now, are you going to let me finish? Thank-you. It's about a days travel. I'll let you relax here with us for three days to regain your strength. Fourth day, late at night, I need you to come with me to find my son's blade, it's of the utmost importance. After that, you're free to do as you please."

"Not like I'm not free as is," Greck laughed, examining his claws," and what makes you think I don't have my own schedule? Better yet, what makes his blade so important?"

Sonya answered this time, eyes narrow. "A foreigner with concern only for himself wouldn't know." Perhaps it was a mistake to speak up, but like her father, she remained strong.

Greck chuckled. Her response was definitely a surprise, but served to be amusing rather than bold. "I'm sure. Alright, fine. I'll do it, on the condition you help me in addition to letting me stay here."

Jak managed a smile. While he wasn't fond of their guest, he had to be thankful. "Go ahead—and I was serious about your arms. I'd hide them 'til we leave. If the guards come in they'll seize them and your head."

The ferret shrugged off the advice. Motioning for Jak to follow he scowled. "Come, we do my task now. If you don't follow, I'll take that as your refusal of my services."

Maria grasped her husbands shoulder. "Dear, don't—" She stopped, finding herself interrupted by a grunt of disapproval. Ears flat, she remained silent.

Jak turned, frown present. "We need that sword, not just us, but all of Mossflower. Sonya, watch after your brothers, and Maria, I promise, I'll be fine. Hand me my coat. Thank-you. Now, ferret, what is your name, and what're we doing?"

"Greck. And burying my dead friend," the ferret responded quickly. A hush of silence fell over the room. Eyes as dark and brisk as the world outside, it was hard to maintain eye contact with the fierce beast. Content with using his own pain to manipulate them, the ferret rushed away from them, slamming the door on his way out. If Jak truly wanted his assistance, he would follow blindly.

Confused as they could be, the family exchanged glances before bidding their brief goodbye. Promising he would return fine, Jak kissed each of his children, and then his wife. With the way things were any goodbye could be their last. The Redbrush family already had lost their one member who's death was as unexpected as the traveler that landed on their doorstep. Unwilling to take any more risks, they made sure they treated departures as such. Sad is the world when such actions become necessary.

[Nightfire]

It's great! I can't wait until the next part is out!  I'm going to go ahead and guess that the sword is Martin the Warriors sword? Sorry, but I couldn't help guessing.

[Skalrag of Marshank]

I love it! You're great at writing!

[Trisscar95]

Wow, that's a really good story. Where'd you get your idea? When are you posting the next chapter?

[WildDoogyPlumm]

NO!  SALAMANDASTRON!!!!!
Anyway, I think it's really good. 
I got teary-eyed when Burro died, and I don't cry at books.

[Søren]

It's great! I can't wait until the next part is out!  I'm going to go ahead and guess that the sword is Martin the Warriors sword? Sorry, but I couldn't help guessing.

I agree. This is a really great story. Are you going to put more chaptors? I think the whole wolf idea is a good one.  If anybeast is to takeover the western plains, and Mossflower, it should be a wolf or wolverine.

[Snowwolf]

This is amazing!!