Attack on Redwall - A CYOA

[James Gryphon]

This is a little like the "Choose Your Own Adventure" thread Rrrrr made. Here's how this will work. I'll set the scene, and at the end, ask a question ("what do you do" or some variant; it will be in blue). You (you being the first member who comes along) post a response. (Post what you like here, but if you take an action, it must be in the form of an attempt. You can, for example, swing a sword at somebody, but not automatically lop their arm off.) Then I'll respond accordingly and continue developing the story. Y'all play a vermin horde leader attacking Redwall Abbey. Try to keep the main character's motivations relatively consistent with previous posts.

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After a long day's march, you finally see the building ahead in the distance. The famous Redwall Abbey. Darkfang, your second-in-command grins maliciously. "'ere it is, chief, just like 'ey said." Your minions behind you see it as well, and start to murmur appreciatively. You glance back at them. Five hundred strong, mostly rats, with the odd ferret, weasel or stoat. All hardened killers, armed to the teeth, ready for loot and plunder, and loyal to you. Or at least afraid of you, which is just as good.

You assess yourself. It wouldn't do to look anything less than imposing when the inevitable encounter with the woodlanders comes. Your garb looks suitably barbaric, and the blood red cape slung over your shoulders only adds to the effect. Your armor-bearer, a stupid, but stout stoat, is carrying all of your gear... save your weapon of choice, which, for obvious reasons, you prefer to keep at paw.

(By the way, what kind of a creature does that paw belong to?)

[Jukka the Sling]

A female fox.

[James Gryphon]

You were always the most cunning in your litter, and everyone knew it, even that oaf of a brother Firecoat. It wasn't easy, coming from a poor community of gypsy foxes, but you found a way to the top. You took advantage of your siblings' strengths and were able to cajole, browbeat, and bribe your way into leading a small band of vermin. One thing led to another. Now, you have your own horde to run as you please.

The Abbey is likely about an hour's march away. The sun is high in the sky; you estimate it to be about mid-day. You recall the chief forager telling you this morning that the troops are provisioned for two more days. You have no heavy war equipment, but have ample tools and weapons to put any plan your agile mind can devise into effect. The forest surrounds you and provides cover for potential maneuvering. If your troop continues down the road, however, you will likely be spotted soon. That could be to your advantage, though; your band is as hardened as they come and the sight of them might lend to intimidation value.

You decide it's time to reveal the next part of your plan. You halt the horde, and bid your officers to attend you.

Darkfang looks your direction expectantly. "Orders, chief?"

[Delthion]

Surround the abbey out of sight within the treeline. Capture anyone coming in or going out and preventing them from telling the abbey. Thereby staying unnoticed for as long as possible.

[Lady Ashenwyte]

Camp in the woods near the Ruins of St. Ninians and recruit all the nearby vermin. Send food and hordemembers to the woodlanders to persuade them to our side.

[James Gryphon]

(By "woodlanders, I'm assuming you mean the ones in the forest.)

You nod. "We're dividing the horde into several groups. Take some good vermin who can keep themselves hidden and surround the Abbey. Camp there overnight and capture anybeast you see coming to or from there. Don't let yourselves be seen, and don't kill anyone; I want prisoners, not crowmeat." Darkfang looks disappointed, but agrees. "Aye, chief."

You motion to another of your officers, a massive weasel. "Milkeye. Take a hundred and scour the woods for vermin. Tell them that if any of you find woodlanders, leave them alone. I've got a special plan for them. When the sun is about to set, take your band and anybeast you find to those ruins we passed earlier and camp there for the night."

You glance at Ravenshade, a sly-looking ferret. "Get some vermin who can speak well and some supplies from Barburn's foragers and go through the woods. If you find any woodlanders, offer them the food in exchange for their help. I'm sure you'll know how to make use of them. When you're done, meet the recruiters at the ruins."

"Barburn, do what you're used to doing. Bring back as much as you can to provide for the extra troops I'm hoping to get. Keep track of where all of you are going and let me know if you find anything unusual. Figure out how much food the group guarding the abbey will need and send part of your group there to stay with them for the night. The rest should go to the ruins to meet our main body."

"Scarface. Take half of the vermin that're left after these others are gone and go straight to the ruins. Set up camp there for everyone."

After issuing these orders and sending the groups off, you're left with about fifty vermin to attend you. What are you going to do with the next few hours?

[Delthion]

Sleep and eat.

[James Gryphon]

Having exerted yourself by deploying your troops, you sit down under a nearby tree and drape the bottom half of your cape over your body. Your armor-bearer looks at you somewhat quizzically, but doesn't say anything. You motion the most senior officer left, a rat named Afrig, over to you. "Take the remaining troops off the road to rest. Make sure they're well-hidden in the forest nearby. If somebeast comes along, wait for me to call you before you do anything to stop them."

You tell the stoat carrying your gear to sit down beside you, which he does, apparently grateful for the break. After taking your pack from him and opening it, you dig out a couple of fish and miscellaneous greenery (which you recognize as being both medicinally useful and good for helping your coat remain lustrous). You make quick work of your repast, and lay back against the tree. It isn't the most comfortable sleeping arrangement you've ever had, but it isn't the worst either. You trust the stoat, who is loyal even if a bit short of wits, to protect you, but even so you keep one eye open and a paw near your weapon.

Since the subject came up, what's that weapon happen to be?

[Delthion]

Sword.

[James Gryphon]

Your curved sword is a trusty weapon, light and well-balanced enough to give you a fair chance in any fight. Firecoat had sneered and asked if you'd "lost track o' your brains" when he found out you had traded your axe for it. What he didn't realize is that this weapon was made by a master bladesmith, not like any of the weapons that could be found near your clan's dens. The young ferret you got it from had claimed that it was part of the loot from a fight with some hares from the Fire Mountain, and you didn't doubt it. You've dispatched more than a few enemies with this blade, but it looks just as new now as the day you first saw it.

The sun beats down on you. You put your pack under your head, and drift off into a light doze.

Some time later, you suddenly come awake. You see something moving out of the corner of your eye. You turn your head and see an otter. They seem surprised to see you. You notice a large pack on their back, and a walking stick in their right paw.

What do you do?

[Delthion]

BIC: Wait for him to get closer, then tackle him and prevent him from calling out.

[James Gryphon]

(Sorry, you edited it after I wrote the description. Better luck next time.)

You poise yourself to move. The otter seems in no rush to come your direction. He starts to say something, but you take the initiative and leap towards him. He's quick with his paws, and his stick catches you midway, in the ribs. However, it doesn't stop your momentum completely, and you crash into him. You were never the burliest or most physical fox, but you manage to hit him hard enough to knock both of you down to the ground.

You hear your armor-bearer grunt as he gets up on his feet. He should be over where you are in just a few seconds.

You're currently sprawled on the ground next to the otter. You sense he's moving, and is likely to swing out at you any second now.

What now?

[Delthion]

Grab his stick quickly and knock him out.

[James Gryphon]

You put your paw out somewhat blindly, grabbing for where you think the stick was. You don't get a good hold on that, but are just in the right place to get hit by a large paw, which slams into your skull. The otter is pretty strong; you don't think you're a good match for him in direct paw-to-paw combat.

You see your armor-bearer standing over both of you, brandishing a spear. He hesitates, apparently unsure about trying to stab the otter with both of you so close together.

You hear something rustle in the woods.

What now?

[Delthion]

Order the stoat to knock him out. Then draw your sword and form up your vermin facing the forest, taking care not to be seen by the Redwallians.