Crumbling Walls [Redwall Plot OPEN]

[Romulus]

((Fair warning: it's kinda long.))

Father Rommel stood motionless in his room, taking slow, deep breaths. He was going to die today. His physical body would not be killed, but Rommel's last day was here. It had been planned this way almost since the start, but it still frightened him immensely. Romulus was a cold-blooded killer, and Rommel was unable to control him. 

Rommel was, after all, the lie, the fake, the character played by the real mastermind, Romulus. And even though the two mice were as real and separate enough to be two completely different creatures, Romulus was in control. He'd always been in control. Turning to the mirror that stood in one corner of his room, Rommel saw himself, worried, terrified, and even a little angry. How could Romulus do this to his abbey? 

He went up to the mirror, touching it with a trembling paw. His blue eyes teared up with righteous indignation. Romulus, you murderer! You utter coward! You've let me in too deep! I won't let you do this! I can't let you hurt them.

He let out a groan and shut his eyes tight as his head began to throb mercilessly. Bracing himself against the mirror, he opened his eyes a little, horrified at what he might see. No, not now!

He felt his lips stretch into a sinister leer, and his eye color paled dramatically. Romulus glared back at him, trying to force him into submission. No! Rommel whirled away from the mirror, still holding his head. You can't do this, Romulus!

"Ye can't do thas, Romulus," the abbot whimpered aloud. Romulus laughed so hard, his throat began to hurt. He didn't even offer an answer to the weak protest. His laughter was his answer. Rommel fell to his knees before the mirror, willing his eyes to change back to blue. That kind, gentle blue that he'd come to love about being Rommel.

No! His ears flattened against his skull. He gripped his pounding forehead, silent groans of pain catching in his throat. Leave me be! But Romulus didn't stop, didn't falter, didn't pay any heed to the abbot's pleas. You monster!

"I am your creator," Romulus growled. His sharp claws made horrible screeching sounds as he dragged them across the mirror's surface. Rommel groaned again, wrenching his paw away. 

"Ye are a coward . . . an' a liar," Rommel panted. Romulus sneered in contempt.

"I let ye get in tae deep, Rommel," he hissed. "Ye ken nothing but weakness now." He laughed again, and Rommel gripped his raw throat. "Look at me, Rommel."

The abbot turned his gaze back to the mirror, forcing back a cry of dismay. His blue eyes were no longer blue. They looked like frozen glass. Romulus smiled in triumph. Rommel tore his gaze away. No! I can't let you--

Stop resisting, fool! Romulus' thoughts finally entered the fray, crushing Rommel's own like bugs. I've let you in too far. You care for these beasts as if they meant something. They only mean one thing to me: power. You've known this, and yet you resist. 

The edges of Rommel's vision went dark. No, Romulus! Have mercy! I'm you! I'm the side of you that loves, that cares, that cries for others! Please, Romulus!

His cries fell on deaf ears, and Romulus got to his feet, wiping his eyes. He straightened Rommel's habit, wondering if anybeast would notice the new claw marks on the mirror's surface. It wouldn't matter after tonight, anyway. The mouse turned to the door, taking a deep breath. 

Every beast would be outside by now. The feast wouldn't be in full swing until he said the grace. Thank the fates Rommel had had the foresight to write down what he would say, the stumbling old fool. Walking over to his desk, Romulus knelt down and reached underneath it, gripping a familiar bundle of leather and pulling it towards him.

Unwrapping the folds, he took out the silver dagger. Broden's dagger. It had taken far too much patience to obtain this thing, but he was at least glad the big hedgehog and his roommate were heavy sleepers. The plan tonight was almost seamless, but the mouse warlord would be on his guard every moment. 

-----

Rook inhaled the cool evening air, a carefree smile on his face. Tonight was the night. The Autumn Feast. Granted, it was a mite late, but due to a few minor setbacks (namely, some practical jokesters who'd thought it was a good idea to wreak havoc on the lovingly-prepared food and tributes) the feast had had to be postponed. But now it was here. And every beast who was anybeast was dressed in their very best for the occasion.

The black and tan hare silently greeted his friends as the abbey dwellers poured out of Great Hall, carrying food, Dibbuns, and crafts. Even though the weather was quite nippy, the happy smiles and promise of warm food were enough to keep spirits high. Rook stood in anxious anticipation near the north wicker gate. His parents (joy of joys!) had decided to visit early this year, bringing the three new additions to the family with them. Ash, Ebony, and Sable were their names. Rook literally could not wait until their arrival.

He bounced on his toes, outfitted smartly in his crimson shirt, wine-colored cap, dark red embroidered breeches, and his black sash. All the fabric pressed and washed 'til it practically shone. He wanted to make the best impression possible for his family tonight. Oh, when would they get here?

"Waitin' on ee fambly, Rookers?" Tessa Rex ambled up to her hare friend, who greeted her with a nod and a bright smile. She donned a lovely pink dress with a pretty azure ribbon around her wide waist, which seemed to make her blue eyes sparkle in the evening light. "Oi'd loik ter wait wid ee, iffen ee doan moind." Rook laughed mutely, nodding again and indicating she stand with him. 

-----

"Oh, Alné, Oakley, ye both look gorgeous, m'dears!" December Krell gushed, her ever-present smile spread across her plump face. The calico mouse took the two young girls' paws as they giggled shyly. Alné swung her hips back and forth, rustling the pretty yellow dress she'd borrowed from Oakley. The white rabbit maid covered another giggle with a paw, her own purple dress shimmering in the light of the lanterns.

"Thankee, Miss Krell," Oakley replied musically. Alné nodded.

"Aye, mah thanks tae ye, as wheel," the black squirrel said. "Naow, Ah mus' go an' 'elp yon friar wi' thae food." December released her paw with a chuckle.

"Oh, of course, darling," she said. "Off ye go. Now, my dear little Oakley, would ye do me the honor a' assitin' me in findin' Mr. Krell? I seem t'have lost 'im, I have."

"I'd love t'help, Ms. December," the rabbit replied. Chatting like old friends, the two ladies meandered off into the crowd of abbey dwellers.

Alné, joined by the other kitchen helpers, carried tray after tray to the feast tables set up on the lawns. They had to constantly drive away eager stomachs from the food, making sure not a bite was eaten before the abbot said grace. 

-----

Logalog Nik Lagdo led a squadron of nine shrews up to the east wicker gate of Redwall Abbey. He wasn't exactly enthusiastic about leaving his tribe just to go to a party, but his deputy, his sister, and all of his friends who were staying at camp had insisted (more like demanded) that he go to this Autumn Feast. Well, they'd talked him into it.

As the chieftain knocked on the gate, his mind on high alert, he tried to force himself to relax. It was just a party. It'd be over in a few hours, and then he could get back to camp. Besides, he did need some time to kick back after that fox-and-thieves incident. Maybe the abbey would even have some good beer.

A spotted mouse opened the gate, happy grin plastered on his face. "Hey!" he exclaimed. "Yore them Guosim shrews, right?" Nik nodded, offering a friendly smile of his own.

"Aye, mouse," the chief replied. "C'n we come in?" The Logalog was met with an emphatic nod. Django the mouse was visibly excited. It was the night of the Autumn Feast, and the legendary Guosim shrews were joining them! The only thing that could've made this night better was if his dad were here. 

He stepped aside to let the warrior shrews in, his brown eyes lighting up. Nik let the other shrews in his party mingle in the crowd. He hung back, searching the smiling faces for anybeast who looked like he might be the abbot. Django carefully sidled up to the scarred shrew, total admiration in his eyes. 

"Uh, hi," he greeted. "M'Django. S'nice t'meet yew." He held out a brown-tipped paw to Nik, who chuckled and shook it heartily.

"Pleasure's all mine, young Django," the chieftain said. "Logalog Nik. Yew live 'ere, eh?" Finding the abbot could wait. He should just relax and enjoy himself. He looked up suddenly as a giant silver otter walked up, one good eye focused on the brown and tan mouse.

"Excuse me, Django," Cross broke in. Django turned to him, trying to work feeling back into his paw after Nik's hearty pawshake. Cross  glanced at the shrew, giving a curt nod, then addressed the mouse. "I am sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to ask you. Have you seen Freya tonight?"

"Uh, sorry, Mr. Cross," Django replied. "Haven't." He looked at Nik, and then back to the otter. "Have y'met Logalog Nik yet?"

-----

Romulus slid the silver dagger into the folds of his sleeves, taking several deep breaths. Tonight was the night. It was finally coming together. After two decades of constant waiting. 

He donned the rock crystal glasses that belonged to the abbot, hoping to conceal his pale eyes for the moment. Locating the scrap of parchment on which Rommel had written the grace for tonight, the warlord stopped moving, closed his eyes, and double-checked himself.

He had the dagger. He needed to lay the accent on thicker. He had the grace. He had the glasses. He knew who he was targeting. He knew how he planned to signal his horde. He knew. He did know. It was all planned out. He knew to expect setbacks. He knew to expect a hitch. He knew. 

Opening his eyes, the warlord placed a sinewy paw on the door. Dressed as the kindly abbot he'd been playing for over two decades, Romulus turned the doorknob. The wolf in sheep's clothing stepped out to join the feast.

((Okay, I'm gonna really need y'all's help in this, guys, so, c'mon, let's get this plot a-rollin'!))

[Prankster101]

The Autumn Nameday Feast, a time of fun and friends....for most Abbey Beast anyways... For Travioso Trueflight, it was a time to stay out of the way.

After reinstating his position as a top Abbey Prankster since he was injured, most of the Abbey Beasts were quite annoyed with him. Apparently his pranks, along with those from a few other Abbey pranksters (not that Travi thought they could ever work to his level), the Autumn Nameday Feast had been delayed. While Travi had not been banned from the Feast, the sea otter stayed to the shadows. He figured it was probably for the best that he stayed out of the way.

As Travioso Trueflight sat beneath a large, shady apple tree on the edge of the orchard, he watched the festivities silently, hidden in the shadow of the tree. Everybeast seemed to be enjoying themselves. He saw Alné joining the cooks nearby the tables, and he saw that spotted mouse...Djan-something letting the GOUSIM shrews inside for the party. Travi liked the shrews. They were no nonsense fighters and hosted some great parties. Maybe he would get a chance to talk with them.

Travi continued to watch as the silver otter who had come to visit the Abbey pull the spotted mouse aside. He couldn't tell what they were talking about because he was too far away, but it really didn't matter to Travi.

Sighing, and putting his paws behind his head and crossing his footpaws at the ankle. Travi watched as the Abbeybeasts began to gather, they were waiting for the Abbot to come down and start the feasting. Closing his eyes and tipping his green hat over his eyes Travi slouched. Until the Abbot had started the feasting, Travi had no where to be. Once he did Travi may snitch a bite or two then he would return to his shadows.

It was probably for the best anyways that he stay out of the way...


((Ooc: Hope this is okay! ))

_{Posted while still a member of this site.}

[Warhound]

"Not a fan of parties?"

A calm, casual voice sounded just nearby Travioso Trueflight, and it belonged to a spiky-haired blonde squirrel by the name of Lhiam Coor MacCloud, the usually quiet fellow holding a pawful of candied chestnuts, a scarf bearing his Clan's colors wrapped securely around his neck. He normally would've stood beside Rook or Broden, having his fill of dandelion cordial and whatever delicacies were within paw-reach, but Rook's anxious waiting was making him anxious, and rather than have two beasts pacing around for the Dare family, Coor had taken his leave, wandering and staying out of the way unless he was needed. He wasn't the only one up and about, clearly, as Duncan Sternclaw was helping the cellar-keeper bring out another barrel, his dark face set in a look of concentration, arm muscles taut as he did much of the heavy lifting.

A pretty ottermaid, dressed in a lovely soft, golden-yellow dress, no apron to be found, was making her way over to a tall silver-backed otter and a handful of GUOSIM shrews, eyes sparkling. "There you are! I was looking for you, and hello Log-a-Log Nik, Django," she had not met the Log-a-Log personally, but her father had filled her in on who was who in the GUOSIM just a few hours ago, so she wouldn't 'make a mess of the family name' by accidentally addressing them incorrectly. She curtsied prettily, her attention drawn to the ground as Koa suddenly crashed into Cross's leg, not enough to topple the big strong otter, but enough to let him know that Koa was in the mood to play. The otter-cub grinned up at the festival-goers, someone having dressed him in a very nice dark red smock, a small herd of dibbuns dressed just as smartly coming up after him. "Hey Cross, can you come play with us? Who are you?" The ottercub had never seen a shrew before, and while this wasn't the most appropriate way to engage someone in conversation, it was at least, for the most part, better than him saying "you look kind of funny'.

The festivities were in full swing, and just about everybeast was in great spirits -- save for those few good creatures who hung on the outskirts of the party, enjoying themselves in a quiet, less active sort of way.

(( There, let me know if I need to change anything. ^^ ))

[Romulus]

((You're fine, Fawn. ^^))

"There you are! I was looking for you, and hello Log-a-Log Nik, Django,"

Cross turned eagerly to greet Freya, his good eye lighting up with his pleasant surprise. Django waved to the pretty otter maid, and Nik gave a simple nod, wondering how this girl knew his name. Well, most of Redwall probably knew his name.

"Good evening, Frey--" Cross didn't get to finish as he felt something furry latch onto his leg. He looked down and smiled at Koa, surprised to see the cub dressed so nicely. Cross himself was wearing a handsome blue quarter-sleeved shirt with a wide collar, and his usual black breeches.

"Hey Cross, can you come play with us? Who are you?"

It took Nik a moment to realize the little otter was addressing him. The Logalog had just been handed a mug of what the abbey dwellers called October Ale. He took a sip and gave a friendly wink to the cub. "Name's Logalog Nik, young'un," he replied. "'Oo're yew?"

"Koa, I don't think we can--" Cross was once again cut off by the sound of Abbot Rommel calling for everybeast's attention. It must be time to say grace.

"Could e'erybeast coom tae yon table sae we can bless thae feast?" the abbot's voice projected clearly over the grounds, and the abbey dwellers began flocking to the feast tables eagerly.

Cross tried following the others to the table, but Koa was still clinging to his leg. The big otter smiled and continued on, anyway, lifting that leg with some difficulty, but not much. Nik laughed at the sight, but quickly turned his attention to the mouse standing at the head of the tables. That must be this Father Rommel he'd heard about. The chief quickly became part of the crowd, making his way towards the tables. Django hurried to keep up with Nik, questions buzzing in the young mouse's mind for the shrew, but he was quickly lost in the crowd, as well.

Alné was nervously entwining her fingers in the thick fur of her tail, hoping to high heaven that every beast would like the dishes she'd prepared. Oakley and December were still trying to locate Mr. Krell, but they halted their search at the abbot's call. Rook clearly did not want to leave his post, but he reluctantly allowed Tess to lead him to the feast tables, as well.

Romulus took out the parchment on which Rommel had written the grace, adjusting his glasses a little nervously. "Good thing Ah wrote et doon, eh?" he joked, and a few scattered chuckles were heard. He cleared his throat, reading the lines aloud with ease. Too much ease. He forced himself to slow down, stumble on a word or two. He was glad when he'd finished.

Chuckling, he waved his paws, indicating the food. "Well, doon't mind me. Dig in, mah friends!" Romulus smiled as the abbey beasts needed no second bidding. His pale eyes, hidden behind Rommel's glasses, scanned the crowd, locating Skidd Streamdog and Broden Spikediggle. Good, he knew where they were.

Now the party could really begin.

((Please note that anyone can still join if they haven't. I just want to keep this moving. Thanks, y'all!))

[Prankster101]

"Not a fan of parties?"

Travioso Trueflight started, flinching a he looked up into the eyes of a blonde squirrel. Recognizing the squirrel as an Abbey dweller, Travi relaxed his tense muscles, settling back against the tree. Although he knew that the squirrel was an Abbey dweller, Travi could not remember the squirrel's name. The last few seasons, Travi had been either getting into too much trouble, out of the Abbey, or locked up in the Infirmary for his injuries, and because of that he hadn't learned many of the slightly newer additions of the Abbey. He may even have talked to this squirrel, but Travioso didn't remember his name.

Putting the fact that he didn't know the squirrel's name aside, Travi looked back out as he pondered an answer to the squirrel's question. The company of shrews was now joined by an ottermaid and a little otterbabe, and everyone else was laughing and talking. "Naw..." Travi replied with a sigh. "Ah be liken' parties, just, it be better Ah 'ang low durin' dis un. Better for all, ya know?"

"Could e'erybeast coom tae yon table sae we can bless thae feast?"

As Travioso replied, he heard the Abbot's voice echo out for everybeast to gather. Most everybeast came at the call. Travioso sat up, but didn't move from his position. Twitching his ears, he listened as the Abbot began to speak.

"Good thing Ah wrote et doon, eh? [...] Well, doon't mind me. Dig in, mah friends!"

Watching the Abbeybeasts dig into the food, Travioso rubbed his growling stomach. Travi hadn't thought about how hungry he was when he made the decision to hang low during the party. Travi was very hungry, and the food smelled sooo good! With a sniff, the sent of warm breads, fruity pies, and the spicy Shrimp and Hotroot soup wafted into Travi's nose.

Saliva began to collect in the sea otter's mouth as he contemplated what to do. If he went over to the tables to grab some food, he would undoubtedly be seen. But if he didn't, he would have to sit here while everybeast else ate that wonderful food!

Unable to take it any longer, Travi stood up. The dark furred, green eyed sea otter headed over to the tables. Travi no longer walked with a limp and only a small, light bandage warped around his previously injured footpaw. The only time he now felt pain in his paw was when Travi became angry or stressed, then it twinged. The infirmary workers said that may happen from time to time, but it was noting bad. It was only when the twinges became more frequent that there may be something wrong.

Walking, pain free, Travi slid into a seat at the large wooden tables, right in front of the large steaming pot of Shrimp and Hotroot soup. Almost drooling, Travi reached forward and began serving himself.

This was going to be so tasty....

((Ooc: Sorry about the lateness of this post guys. That was my bad. ))

_{Posted while still a member of this site.}

[T-Bone]

What sort of feast did not have syrup? Honestly! Broden Spikediggle was clearly displeased with the feast's blatant lack of liquid awesome. After all, he was a fan of delicious flavor. However, the burly hedgehog was not about let this slight setback ruin his evening. This was a feast, and feasts were meant to be enjoyed.

Presently, he was enjoying the feast at the largest of the feast tables, surrounded by beasts he did not know. He conversed with them as if he did, but it was not, admittedly, nearly as enjoyable as conversing with his friends Rook and Coor. Granted, Rook didn't really ever say anything, but still. Where were those two? Broden scanned the abbey grounds for either or both of his closest friends. The first beast he spotted was Coor, who seemed to be talking to that Trav-something otter-thing. Right. Where was Rook? Oh, there he was, with Tessa. So, that left Broden with two options, then. He could go and talk to Coor, or he could go and talk to Rook.

Or he could just go talk to both. Broden rose from his chair, holding his now half-filled plate, and quickly made his way over to where Rook now sat. "Your family show up yet?" he asked with a half-smile.


Tobias shook his head. "This is all wrong, Jaroah."

The burly mouse in question stopped mid-bite and waited for his brother to go on.

"...We can't steal from a place that gives everything away!"

Jaroah shrugged and resumed devouring his food so quickly that Tobias worried he might inhale his plate. The big mouse was clearly only concerned with eating, at the moment, and had stopped only because Tobias' tone of voice had suggested that the food might be poisoned. So long as that was not the case, Jaroah would waste no time practicing a voiceless impression of a hare.


Shad patted Skidd's shoulder. "Hey, I'm gonna go get food for the both of us. D'ye mind findin' a couple o' seats for us?" Skidd nodded emphatically, which Shad presumed indicated agreement, rather than "Yes, I mind." And so, the dancer left to collect foodstuffs on flat, roundish things called plates, while Skidd left to find two empty seats.

Much to the surprise of the latter, there were two such seats situated on Abbot Rommel's left side! Well, that sure made things much easier! Skidd approached the abbot and pointed to the empty chairs. "Are these seats taken?" It hadn't occurred to him to address Rommel as Father; Skidd lived on a farm in the middle of Mossflower.

---

((Sorry, heh. That's all I got.))

[Sigurd]

Nobeast could forget the Mossguard at a party. Faffub had left two battalions of the Mossguard back at Brockhall, and took the rest with him. The woodland defenders were adorned with silky cream colored cloaks, well hidden in the snow. Each had a double-pointed javelin with him or her, as well as whatever blade or bow they may possess. The leader was a tall lanky hare, creamy furred, bearing a frilled and buttoned tunic under his cloak. Underneath his left arm was his harolina, something to play at a party.

"Och meh' laddies! Open tha' gate up, meh' laddie bucks, before we freeze ta' death!" the Highlander called out in his accent.

[Warhound]

"I'm Koa Shorehound!" The ottercub was able to chime in to the shrew leader, just before Father Abbot called everyone together for grace. Koa detached himself from Cross halfway to the table, unable to resist the wonderful aromas wafting up his nose, the babe only half-listening as Rommel started off another slightly bumbling speech, but Koa never held it against him. He never really registered any of Rommel's mistakes anyway. Freya, on the other hand, was left fighting back a soft, amused smile, at last able to chuckle a bit when he allowed them to dig in the fabulous feast in front of them.
She had been on kitchen duty for days with her mother to help prepare this, and was very pleased to see that their efforts (and her mother's skills) had paid off. Catching sight of the black, fidgety squirrel that was Alné, Freya beamed at her. "What has your tail in a bit of a knot, Alné? I'm sure everyone will like the food, just look--" Freya glanced down both ends of the table, watching beasts heartily tuck in to their meals. Adding food to her own plate, she did her best to reassure the other abbey-beast by purposefully selecting a few items of food she knew Alné had worked on.

"Ouch!"

"Sorry!"

Duncan Sternclaw blinked in surprise as something small and furry ran over one of his footpaws under the table, the little voice of Koa Shorehound sounding out from behind the table cloth. What was he doing under there?
"Burr aye, you'm be a coim'n out ee there, young mizzer Shorehound!" Ready and willing to reprimand him, Duncan's dark face got a little red under his fur as he realized Koa wasn't there any more. Great. Now he looked like he was talking to his food.
The otterbabe, on a very important mission to locate the Shrimp'n'Hotroot soup, found it by Travioso Trueflight, Koa making a small noise of triumph as he appeared beside the older otter, a bowl in between his little brown paws.
"Travi, can you help me?" He chimed, fidgeting excitedly as he stared at the steaming pot. The spices stung his nose, but he didn't mind. He just had to try some this year! He had to! Skipper, always afraid he would burn his mouth, had forbade him from trying the soup until he was older.
But Travioso didn't know that, now did he?

Lhiam Coor MacCloud heard the calls from Faffub O'Barukal, and was the first to approach the gates, chuckling to himself as he recognized Faffub's thick highlander brogue.
"Stand back, they're coming open!"
He shouted back, a paw cupped around his mouth. Putting his shoulder against the door and pushing hard, Coor's muscles tensed as he exerted slight effort to push open one of the great oaken doors, the wind ruffling his already overly spiky headfur as he was greeted with the sight of the Mossguard. Standing aside to let them pass, Coor smiled upon sighting Faffub. A true hare if ever there was one, and this thought brought about the question of whether or not the friar and his cooks had prepared enough food...
Between Broden Spikediggle and this hare, assuming he was as gluttonous as his mountain cousins, Coor had no doubt in his mind that they could clear a table full of food each.

[Sigurd]

A troop of thirty-eight beasts marched into the abbey, led by the Highlander hare. O'Barukal, a former Long Patrol marched his troop in military fashion. Nudging a bulky otter, he gave his sergeant the orders. The otter, who was a gruff stout fellow, saluted his officer with his javelin, before barking out the orders.

"Mossguard, aaaaatttt eaaaassssseeee!" As soon as he finished, the tension from the troop seemed to vanish, and the Woodland Defenders clambered to the tables. Faffub walked over to the spiky headed squirrel.

"Och, thank ye', meh' laddie!" O'Barukal said, with a nod. "Och, Ah'm tha' executive offica' of this unit. Captain Faffub O'Barukal, meh' laddie", he said, offering the squirrel a shake of paws.

[Romulus]

"Your family show up yet?" he asked with a half-smile.

Rook looked up from his food with a smile of his own. Broden! He shook his head in response to the inquiry, shrugging his shoulders. His parents were known for being punctual, but something probably had delayed the--

The black hare perked up at the loud knocking on the gate. He craned his neck to see over the crowd, wondering who had shown up. When he saw that it was not, in fact, his family, his face fell, and so did his ears. By the gods, he couldn't take this waiting! Tessa noticed her friend's anxiety and chuckled.

"Burr, Rookers carn't e'en enjoy yon dinner, zurr Broden," the mole said to the big hedgehog. Rook swung an ear back up, smiling once more.

-----

"Are these seats taken?"

Romulus was in the middle of a conversation with Logalog Nik, keeping in character rather well, when the young otter walked up. The mouse turned to Skidd, unwilling to believe his luck. The boy was going to sit right next to him. With one of Rommel's kind smiles, Romulus shook his head.

"Nay, me lad," he replied. "Do sit an' enjoy yerself. Naow, whit were ye sayin', Logalog?" Nik was unfazed by the arrival of the otter, and in fact he only offered a nod to the other creature before returning to his talk with the abbot.

Romulus was fully aware of the Mossguard beasts who'd just arrived. But they'd be easily taken care of, and in fact were needed here. Just give it a few hours more.

-----

"What has your tail in a bit of a knot, Alné? I'm sure everyone will like the food, just look--"

The black squirrel stopped wringing her tail for a moment and smiled at the pretty otter. "Och, aye, Freya," she replied. "Ah dinnae mean tae be nervous, but Ah am." Alné chuckled as she noticed Freya pick out the dishes she'd so lovingly prepared. "Mah thanks tae ye." She got herself a plate and helped herself, calmer now that she realized she had no reason to be anxious.

"Oh, Freya," Cross came up then, sans Koa, carrying a plate half full of food. He nodded to the black squirrel, his attention mostly on the pretty ottermaid. "Would you mind--I mean, may I sit with you?" He hoped she hadn't already promised to sit with somebeast else.

[Eastpaw]

"Hurr, pass that deeper'n'evur pie, zurr!" The deep bass voice of a young mole cut through the conversation closest to him. Next to the young mole sat a middle-aged mole of such resemblance to be obviously either his father or his uncle. Hurrth was the mute carpenter of Redwall Abbey, examples of his craft floated on the pond and supported the feast. His dark furred face split in homely cheer as the pie made its way to them.

Hurrth took a spoon and portioned out the large pie, dropping a sizable portion on the plate of a mouse across from him, who seemed to be trying his best to imitate a hare. The inhalation of food was quite impressive, but the mute mole made a stern note to his nephew that he had better use his own manners, if the mouse did not. He punctuated his gestures with a decisive clack of his digging claws.


((Thats Jaroah, folks Hope you don't mind!))

[Prankster101]

Travioso Trueflight mouth watered with anticipation, as he grabbed the ladle to the Shrimp and Hotroot Soup. The smell of the freshly netted shrimp, the crisp leeks, and the spicy hotroot pepper wafted into his black nose. Oh, it smelled soooo good! Lifting his wooden bowl to the ladle, a healthy portion of the soup sloshed into Travi's paws. This was going to be a great soup. The thickness was perfect and the smells were intoxicating.

But before Travi could have even a sip of this amazing soup, a small noise caught him. Turning, Travi found a brown furred, brown eyed otterbabe looking up at him. After racking his brain for a quick second for the young lad's name, Travi remembered. Koa, yes, that was his name. Travi did know this dibbun, a little shark in the water if he recalled correctly.

"Travi, can you help me?" He chimed, fidgeting excitedly as he stared at the steaming pot.

"Uuhhh..." Travi looked at the pot then back down that the squirming otterbabe. Was the little one supposed to have a soup this spicy? Travi knew very well that at a young at as this little one, he could have easily handled the soup, but then again he was a sea otter...

Taking a quick sip from his bowl, the wonderful flavors rushed into his mouth. Oh...that was good soup....Licking his lips, Travi thought hard. Well, it wasn't really that spicy. It could be much worse. In fact, Travi liked it a bit hotter...

Travioso took a quick glance around, the coast seemed clear. "Alrig't matey, just a little naw. Buts careful 'bout yer tongue. It be a tad bits spicy." Gently taking Koa's bowl, Travi ladled in a small portion of the soup and handed it back to the dibbun. "Dan't spill naw, it be warm."


_{Posted while still a member of this site.}

[nikki]

"Ho, Mizzus Krell!"

Moira scurried toward the mouse artist as she saw her, waving something over her head. It was the mole seamstress' first attempt at a dragon, and she had worked hard to smooth out the details and finish the requested kerchief in time for the feast. And now it was finally finished - a sky blue dragon on a dark blue kerchief, a fine figure of a lizard if she did say so herself!

As she reached December the mole bobbed a curtsy, beaming as she held out the kerchief - neatly folded and bundled in a length of good white cotton.

"Ee dragon's a turrible one t'fight wi' yon needle, missus! But Oi dearly luvs a challenge. Try et on thy pretty head, marm, an' iffn you's pleased Oi'll move on to ee new habit belt for our good Abbot!"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Not far away, Pipkin stood by Banwurt, the young rabbit seeking Salamandastron. The dormouse hoped his new friend wasn't too bothered by the delay; really, after his trek the rabbit could use a bit of fun, he thought.

He smiled as he spotted the white rabbitmaid, nudging Banwurt's ribs.

"Ahh, but there's a pretty miss. Not yer sister I'd wager, but worth a chat, eh?"

[Romulus]

"Ho, Mizzus Krell!"

December turned at the sound of her name, beaming when she saw the mole sister. "Oh, good evening, Sister Moira!" she greeted, her arm still linked with Oakley's. "Y'haven't seen Miles about, have you?" The white rabbit maid smiled at the kindly mole, offering a friendly wave.

"Ee dragon's a turrible one t'fight wi' yon needle, missus! But Oi dearly luvs a challenge. Try et on thy pretty head, marm, an' iffn you's pleased Oi'll move on to ee new habit belt for our good Abbot!"

The mouse gasped in delight and took the beautiful kerchief reverently. "Why, Sister," she breathed. "It's absolutely gorgeous!" She removed her hat and tied the embroidered cloth around her head, giggling with glee. "Oh, I just love it! A wonderful piece of handiwork!" She took it off to admire the dragon again, gushing at the fine detail. "He may've been hard to fight, but you bested him for sure! Thank you dearly."

"It's beautiful, Sister Moira," Oakley commented. "In fact, I been thinkin' of askin' y'for one for myself or my own mum. She does love your work so." She looked up and noticed the dormouse and rabbit standing nearby. Smiling, she offered a slightly flirtatious wink to the male rabbit.

"I hope you'll excuse me, ladies. I've some mingling t'do," she said politely. December nodded, re-tying the kerchief on her head as the white rabbit made her way over to the two males at the edge of the crowd. Giving her best smile, she greeted them brightly, "Evenin' gentlebeasts. I don't believe we've met. I'm Oakley."

[T-Bone]

Rook smiled, shook his head, shrugged his shoulders, perked up at the sound of knocking at the gate, and then slumped a little bit. Broden chuckled to himself. Rook certainly was anxious for his family to arrive, wasn't he?

"Burr, Rookers carn't e'en enjoy yon dinner, zurr Broden," the mole said to the big hedgehog. Rook swung an ear back up, smiling once more.

Interestingly, the food on Broden's plate had already disappeared. Broden patted his friend's shoulder encouragingly. "Well, Ah'm shore they'll show oop in time, won't they, Tessa?" He gestured to Rook's plate of unfinished food. "In the meantime, jus' relax a little. Me'n'Tessa woold lak tae talk with ye at least some, t'night," he chuckled.

~~~~~~~~~

Tobias glanced to his left and lowered an eyebrow. "Jaroah, you're going to explode."

The grifter was distracted by a nearby mole who was gesturing animatedly without actually saying a word. Mute, probably. Somehow, Jaroah managed to respond. "Tobias, never turn down free food."

Tobias chuckled. Classic Jaroah.

"Why don't ya try t'make friends, Tobias?" said the bigger mouse, turning his attention to his brother.

Tobias made a face. "Do I have to?"

"Yes. And use your real name. There's clearly no point stealing from a place like this."

The thief sighed. "Come on, it's not hard," Jaroah insisted, "Watch." Jaroah turned to the mute mole who had just dropped a large piece of some sort of pie onto his plate, deliberately it would seem. The big mouse nodded his thanks to the mole. He then offered a paw that probably could have been cleaner, not that it made much of a difference to a thief. "Name's Jaroah; 'm new here. What's yore name?" The question was meant as both an introduction and as a tactic to figure out of this mole really was mute -- Jaroah wasn't quite sure yet.

[Eastpaw]

"Name's Jaroah; 'm new here. What's yore name?" The question was meant as both an introduction and as a tactic to figure out of this mole really was mute -- Jaroah wasn't quite sure yet.

Hurrth’s paw was heavily calloused when it met Jaroah’s in a firm shake. He nodded politely in confirmation that he’d heard the mouse’s introduction, but when a voice spoke, it came from the young mole to his left. “Hurr, zurr Jarooh, this is moi ole nucle Hurrth. Oi’m Murrth.” The young mole, who looked to be in his young teenage years, lived up to his name by grinning cheerfully at the two brothers, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

“New at th’ h’abbey, baint you’ns?”

Hurrth watched the exchange with interest, his button-black eyes sparking with intelligence. Though he could not speak in the traditional way, still he was clearly a participant in the discussion. Many of the creatures in Redwall could understand his gestures, for he'd lived there every year of his life, but his nephew was often a more convenient and swift alternative.

[Lyrielle]

Her gaze swiveling from the pretty black squirrel to Cross, the ottermaid's face immediately drew into a smile. "No I wouldn't mind at all--I was hoping you'd sit next to me." What with the feast preparations and her father's interventions, they didn't have much of an opportunity to simply spend time together. Mindful of her manners and her appearance in front of the handsome silvery otter, Freya was careful not to eat like one of the dibbuns -- that is, face covered in food, paws sticky, and lots of giggling going on between the lot of him. Well, most of them except Koa. Her eyes scanned the crowds of good beasts until she spotted the little trouble-maker, watching him receive a bowl of soup from a familiar looking otter Freya couldn't remember the name of. He was quite a trouble-maker himself, if she could put a face to the...latest string of mischief that had been occurring around Redwall Abbey, but that could've been the squirrel twins for all she knew.


Koa Shorehound's eyes lit up immediately, and he only half-listened to Travi's words of warning, taking the bowl with eager little webbed paws. Ungracefully bringing the bowl to his mouth and tipping it's contents in, The otterbabe's eyes widened as the spicy liquid flowed down his throat. They were soon watering, but he didn't appear to be in pain enough to make a big fuss, he looked as though he liked it but didn't, before the typical otter fondness for the soup won out in the end. It burned, but it was kind of...fun! And the taste was fantastic. Rubbing his muzzle with the back of his paw to clean it of any excess soup, Koa held up his bowl again, eager for more.
It probably wasn't a good idea that he fill up on soup instead of bite into some of the other delicious foods, but the temptation was just too great. He wasn't quite so interested in the deeper'n'ever pie or the flans or the pasties; they all paled in comparison to his opinion of the soup. It was wonderful! The best thing ever! Next to candied chestnuts and anything with meadow cream on it, of course, but it sure did hit the spot!

Politely shaking the paws of one Captain Faffub O'Barukal, Coor smiled welcomingly. "I'm Lhiam Coor MacCloud, but I'd prefer Coor. It's an honor, Sir." The sight of so many armed beasts brought him back to his earlier years, the years he'd spent hot-tempered and bloodthirsty, just looking for an excuse to pick a fight. That is, until proper training and a sense of honor and duty knocked that nonsense out of him. Out of habit, Coor let his eyes sweep around the crowds a few times, as though he were on sentry duty and looking for any sort of trouble -- be it something as simple as a dibbun getting some food stuck up his or her nose, or even Koa attempting to eat more than his stomach would allow. Koa seemed to be minding his manners, at least.
Where were those trouble makers, by the way? Cyle and Trace?
Surely they wouldn't miss out on a feast as grand as this one?

[Romulus]

Cross visibly lit up when Freya accepted his invitation to sit with him. He beckoned her to a couple of seats, wracking his brain for a conversation topic. In all honesty, he was just glad to see her. He hadn't managed to find time to spend with her as this feast had grown closer. Everybeast had seemed so bent on finishing preparations. He'd been glad to help, but he'd never been to an event this big.

"It . . . has been awhile," he acknowledged lamely. "I have missed our time together. I am glad we can enjoy the feast together." Oh, that was so pathetic. At least he was being honest.

-----

"Can I grab it?"

"Shut up, Trace."

"But, Cyle, ya promised I could--"

"I said shut up, Trace!"

The hidden nook in the Great Hall roof and the big iron hooks were proving extremely useful. Cyle and Trace Galahad crouched in the confined space, carefully lowering lengths of sturdy rope attached to hooks down towards Martin's sword. Nobeast was currently present in Great Hall, but they knew anybeast could show up at any point. They had to work fast, but Trace insisted that he should grab the sword once they had it securely in the hooks.

"I'm bigger'n you," he hissed. Cyle ignored him. She bit her lip as she watched the hook slide down behind the blade. Trace mimicked her movements on the other end of the sword, his expression dark. "I c'n carry it easy." His twin shushed him harshly.

"Fine, you can get it, whatever," she whispered. "Just don't drop it. On the count of three, we both lift." Trace seemed satisfied with the plan, and as Cyle quietly counted to three, he got ready to hold that magnificent blade. They hauled it up together, the sleek sword wobbling from side to side as they tried to get coordinated. Cyle held her breath, but Trace didn't disappoint. He snatched up the precious blade as soon as it was close enough to reach.

"Ha!" he declared, gripping the black leather hilt. "We done it!" He grinned at his sister in the gloom, who smirked back. This was quite possibly their best heist yet. Now all they had to do was keep it secret. When the sword was discovered lost, an all-out search would invariably begin. The twins would then 'find' it, and be celebrated as heroes. The two squirrels snickered at the thought.

"I am a genius," Cyle whispered as they crawled out of the hidden space. Trace laughed, and they dashed up to their rooms.

-----

((Don't worry, people! I have a plan!))

[tenor]

Banwurt had been a nervous rabbit since he had arrived at Redwall since his run in with the small little band in Mossflower. Courteous and kind, though a bit on the shy side, Banwurt found himself sticking to the Dormouse' side out of a sense of familiarity. The amount of creatures as well as the variety felt a little overwhelming for the warren-raised male.

"Ahh, but there's a pretty miss. Not yer sister I'd wager, but worth a chat, eh?"

The elbow prod did get him to look as edged, curious to who he met. Sighting the white rabbit his ears tucked back slightly, realizing not just what Pipkin was implying, but also that she seemed to have noticed him.

”You are correct, it is not my sister... but I do not... think... uhm...” Well, his excuse that she wouldn't be interested in speaking with him was shot right out of the water as she was coming their way. The sudden urge to hide shyly behind the Dormouse rose up, but the only thing that helped him keep his ground aside that it would have been incredibly rude, but also he was a good head and shoulders taller than the Dormouse.

"Evenin' gentlebeasts. I don't believe we've met. I'm Oakley."

His tail twitched, bowing properly to the lady. ”Evening, madam. I'm Banwurt.” he was a bit tense, trying his best to fight through his shyness to smile to her. She certainly seemed nice!

[Prankster101]

Watching the little one's eyes light up as he gave Koa the bowl, Travioso smiled a bit. See! He could be a gentle beast, well..sort of... He was helping a little one get food! But also probably getting in trouble for feeding hot soup to one so young...

Travi's eyes widened as Koa unceremoniously tipped the bowl to his lips and began chugging the soup down. "W'oa dere mate!" Travi exclaimed as he watched the otterbabe's eyes begin to water. "Ah told ye it was 'ot matey."

Looking around, Travioso spotted a jug of milk. Reaching over, he grabbed the jug and started pouring a small glass. Maybe milk would help the little one's throat calm down. It did do that, right?

But when Travioso turned around, Koa had already finished his soup and was holding his bowl out for another round. "Yer done already?" Travi looked around the table. Had anybody noticed? No, it didn't seem like it yet, and Koa didn't seem to be hurting from the soup, but his eyes were still watering a bit..

Travioso was at an impasse. He did love playin' with the dibbuns at Redwall, but he didn't like seeing them hurt, or getting them or himself in trouble. He was already in enough trouble as it was. "Uh mate...Ah'm not sure ye should have any more.." Travi looked back at little Koa. "Ye 'ad yer first try today an' well...Not sure Skip would want ye 'aven' more..."

Glancing up the table, Travi spotted the meadow creme pie with candy chestnut toppings, a known favorite of the dibbuns at Redwall. Maybe, if he could just change Koa's mind..."Takes a look up dere matey!" He pointed with a whisper at the pie. "Dat looks good, maybe I can sntic' us dat pie..."

_{Posted while still a member of this site.}