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Post by Margorr on Jan 27, 2016 20:32:30 GMT -5
Major Rifflerun called a halt on the path outside of Redwall Abbey. Had the Long Patrol arrived to Mossflower a day earlier, they would have run right into Argrav and his horde. The horde had done well covering their tracks when they moved camp into Mossflower Woods, so the Long Patrol had marched right past where the vermin had been camped.
The Major took a moment to admire Redwall Abbey. He’d been here a few times since he’d enlisted in the Patrol, and every time he came back it was like returning home. Moment of sentimentality over, he turned to address the patrol.
“In case you can’t tell, we’ve arrived at Redwall Abbey. I’ll take myself and a few others to go talk to the Abbot, if he’s still in charge. The rest of you stand here in your ranks and look like a proper patrol. “ The Major ordered. He took a moment to pick out three other hares to bring with him, and approached the Abbey gates.
He knocked three times on the door, before announcing their presence.
“Hullo Redwall!! Major Boggsorly Rifflerun and the Long Patrol! Anybeast near these gates?”
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Post by Taurian on Jan 31, 2016 12:44:56 GMT -5
Tsaron, on their way back to the gatehouse, heard the knocks on the big Abbey gates. They walked over towards the gates and said, "Hello? Who's there, an' be ye friend or foe?" They listened, and heard the Major's declaration. Chuckling in memory of the last visit from the Long Patrol, the owl called over an otter to help them open the gates, and let in the hares. Tsaron looked over the hares, mentally counting their number. One hundred hares! Our good Friar will have her paws full feeding this lot.
They ushered the hares inside the gates, leading them in the direction of the abbey building. "Ye should speak t' the Abbot first, and then to our good Friar, for vittles." Tsaron pulled the Major aside as the other hares passed. "Major Rifflerun, this ain't just a friendly, passin' by visit, is it?" The owl's large eyes blinked worriedly at the hare. "What is coming t' the Abbey, Major? Is the Badger Lord on his way?"
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Post by Margorr on Jan 31, 2016 22:21:27 GMT -5
"Stand in y' ranks just inside the Abbey!" Major Rifflerun ordered as his hares marched inside the Abbey at Tsaron's request. Once his troops started to form up in their ranks, he turned his attention back to the owl.
"No my friend, this isn't just a friendly visit. Between you an' me, Lord Lasair sent us on a mission. I'd not like t' say more until I've got a chance to speak with the Abbot. You're welcomed to tag along, just so long as you don't breathe a blinkin' word to anybeast about why we're here." The Major turned his attention away from Tsaron to check on his Patrol. A few of the hares were being pestered by dibbuns, but didn't let that distract them from following their majors orders and staying in ranks. "You don't happen to know where the good Abbot is?"
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Post by Taurian on Feb 1, 2016 16:55:53 GMT -5
Tsaron's brow furrowed. "I had thought as such. More'n twoscore hares without their Badger Lord ain't just dropping by for tea." They glanced over towards the other hares, calling out to the dibbuns, "Leave the poor beasts alone, would ye, please? Or I won't tell ye a story tonight." The owl threatened, shaking their wings in mock menace at the small creatures. Tsaron returned their attention to the Major without bothering to see if his threat had any effect. "The Abbot should be in Cavern Hole at this time, or in the Great Hall. An' I won't tell a soul. Ye know, we had another new visitor recently, an ottermaid who knows tales of Maelstrom. Quite an interesting lass. Ye'll have to meet her if ye get the chance."
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mads
Dibbun
Posts: 49 
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Post by mads on Feb 4, 2016 14:32:08 GMT -5
Cypress (finally) made it out to the yard. The young hare was moving as quickly as he could, hoping that someone he knew from his earlier life at Salamandastron was with the company. He greeted the Major with a polite nod of his head.
"Hello, I am the healer here. Do any of your people require help?" He asked.
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Post by Margorr on Feb 10, 2016 22:34:46 GMT -5
"Maelstrom eh? I'd love t' meet her. I'm sure Lord Lasair would too, when they get here. Time for that later though! Lead the way to the Great Hall!" They hadn't walked more than a few feet when they ran into Cypress. Boggs recognized him as a former member of the Long Patrol, though one he was never close with. He saluted Cypress, before answering his question.
"Afraid I'm not sure, sah! You're free to give them a look over, we've had a long march. " He gave Cypress a final nod, then continued towards Great Hall with Tsaron.
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Rylee was fascinated with the Long Patrol. The only hare she had seen previously was Cypress, and now here were a lot of Cypress', all dressed fancy! She had been one of the dibbuns investigating the hares when Tsaron had threatened them with no stories. Rylee hesitated a moment. No story? Tsaron's stories were the best!! Tsaron didn't seem to be paying much attention to her for that matter. They only seemed interested in the hares.
She picked a few flowers and walked up to the hare closest to her. Tugging on the hem of Dianthus' coat, she tried to get his attention.
"'scuze oi zurr!"
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Post by Constable 216D on Feb 11, 2016 23:59:13 GMT -5
Great Hall was a massive place, bigger than the forge of a badger lord, resplendent in the dusky red tones of aged sandstone. The springtide sunlight shone gleefully through the stained glass windows, etching patterns of multicoloured hues into the floor as dust motes danced endlessly through the bright beams. Though Abbot Whittle could not see the scene that lay before him, he knew it was there. He could feel the varying degrees of warmth seeping through his robe as he made his way across Great Hall at a leisurely pace, the wooden taps of his walking staff mingling with the muted laughter of Dibbuns playing out on the Abbey lawn. There were times he found himself dumbfounded with gratitude for the humility the loss of his sight had brought; he was now often rewarded with moments of simple pleasure borne to him through the mediums of his other senses. One such moment came to him in the form of a texture, that of the tapestry of Martin the Warrior. Abbot Whittle gently ran a wrinkled paw along the tapestry's border as he made his way to the spot where Martin's effigy was. A slight chuckle escaped from the Abbot as he rubbed his footpaws against the floor... he was convinced that only he knew how the sandstone below the spot Martin was had been worn into a slight depression by the countless number of creatures who had stood before Martin through the seasons, seeking guidance and wisdom from the warrior's spirit.
"I've come to add a bit of depth to the old worn spot, Martin," the Abbot said aloud to the tapestry, "but only for a moment or two, before some matter or other calls me away..." The old harvest mouse let his voice trail off into silence as his thoughts turned inwards, leading him to stand in contemplative reverence before the image of the warrior. Perhaps it was a trick of the shifting sunlight, but Martin seemed to look down upon the Abbot with bemused affection, his steady gaze communicating both patience and sagacity. Of course, all this was lost on Abbot Whittle, who rubbed the decorative fringe of the tapestry once for habit's sake before hobbling off in the direction of Cavern Hole in search of a comfortable place for a nap.
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Post by Captain Bigwig on Feb 12, 2016 1:40:32 GMT -5
The sight of the Abbey was beautiful to behold.
Dianthus could feel the breath catch in his throat as he gazed upon it, overcome with emotion. They'd made it in one piece, somehow, and were all able to experience this moment together. It never made him feel more alone.
Frederick, the only hare he felt he could truly call a friend, was a healer. He was often busy or not around, and it left Dianthus feeling so empty inside. His sorrow over Lucerne was starting to soften in his heart, but he still felt so heavy, and his entire being ached in such a melancholy way...
Following the Major's orders, he fell into step as they entered the Abbey. When the Major left to speak to the Abbot, Dianthus felt his shoulders slump, and at the feeling of his coat being tugged on, Dianthus jumped slightly and looked down to behold the darling dibbun at his feet.
He'd never seen many moles in his day, but she was by far the most adorable. Kneeling before her, Dianthus offered a warm smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Why, hello, little mischief maker! Is there something you need from me?"
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Post by Margorr on Feb 12, 2016 23:00:18 GMT -5
"Oi'm not ee mischief maker, Oi'm ee moler. Oi picked flowers furr ee, zurr." Ryle said, offering him the flowers and shuffling her paws nervously. Bigbeasts made her nervous, but she'd always liked Cypress so these other hares should be nice too. "can ee cumm an play wiv us?"
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Major Boggs did not even stop to take in the splendor of the Great Hall. He'd been to the Abbey a few times before, and a quick look around was enough for him to spot the Abbot, making his way towards Cavern Hole. Not wanting to shout across the Great Hall, he walked swiftly across towards Cavern Hole, reaching the Father before he had a chance to make his way down the stairs.
"Pardon me, Father. Major Rifflerun of the Long Patrol. Mind if I join you on your way down to Cavern Hole, wot?" Boggs was all business. There would be time to exchange pleasantries later but for now, he wanted to get his Patrol situated as swiftly as possible. If the Vermin were truly headed this way, they would be a days walk or less from the Abbey.
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Post by Swift on Feb 13, 2016 1:11:32 GMT -5
The sun warmed Gus's back as he picked dandelion heads from the abbey lawns. He's been instructed to fill the large basket he carried as full as he could. Once full, he expected he would then be given the rather tedious task of separating the petals from the bitter green buds. No one had told the novice mouse what the dandelions were for, but he was hoping for dandelion cordial. The sweet, refreshing beverage would easily make all the labor worth it.
From his position outside, there was no missing the sound of one hundred hares entering through the gate. Gus scooted across the grounds, toting his basket along, to get a better view. He had met more than a few hares in his time, and even played one on more than one occasion (the false floppy ears were almost invariably a huge hit). But never had he seen this many hares from the legendary Long Patrol at once. The mouse's eyes widened in awe, which after a few moments turned to mild alarm. He eyed his basket. I'm going to need a bigger basket.
Dandelion cordial would be the least of the kitchen's problems, actually. If the hares planned to stay for any length of time, there would be a great many beasts putting in overtime in the kitchens. Hefting the full basket, the mouse made a dash for the abbey to alert the friar, or whichever beast he ran into, of the situation. As he passed the rank and file, he couldn't resist a wave that almost made him drop his basket.
((If anyone wants to use this as an excuse to bring their character out to meet the Long Patrol, you are welcome to assume Gus ran into you in the halls or kitchen somewhere.))
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Post by Constable 216D on Feb 14, 2016 22:35:29 GMT -5
The Abbot judged he was merely a few badger's strides away from the steps leading down to Cavern Hole when the sound of rapidly approaching pawsteps reached his ears. Startled by their swift approach and the lack of any greeting, Abbot Whittle froze mid-stride, mentally forcing his jittery, anxious nerves to settle down. When the voice of a hare finally cut through the ensuing silence, the Abbot was baffled. "Major Rifflerun?" he thought. "The Long Patrol? What is an officer of the Long Patrol doing here at Redwall?" He was about to offer the hare a customary Redwall greeting when the smell assaulted his nostrils. It was a heavy thing, laden with subtle layers: the acrid stench of campfire smoke, the musty odor of fur soaked in sweat and sprinkled with dew, the smell of recently sharpened steel, with the robust scents of clay and earth mixed throughout and the slightest hint of sea air. It made Abbot Whittle feel tired, not for himself, but for the hare that stood before him. He briefly considered the brisk and urgent manner with which the Major had addressed him before turning his body in the direction of where the Major's voice had originated.
"It is not idly that the Long Patrol has come to visit, hmm?" the Abbot began in a quiet voice. "Major, I welcome you, and all who accompany you, to Redwall. Forgive me for not approaching you at once, for I have lost my sight. I can hear in your voice that you have much to say, and that your words are of grave importance. I am at your immediate disposal; however, may I inquire as to the number of your company? I have no doubt that you have travelled far, and it is my wish that myself and my fellow Redwallers might serve you after your journey. Let me tell the Friar of your arrival so that preparations may begin. I would also like to offer you and your hares the opportunity to rest or freshen up, if they so wish. I ask this so that I might have some time to gather the elders to listen to the tale you have borne to us, and perhaps there are some you would like to be included at this council as well. Would these proceedings suit you, Major?" The Abbot was loath to request that the Major wait to share his news, but he had lived long enough to know that all news is best digested when laid before a company of several agile minds.
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mads
Dibbun
Posts: 49
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Post by mads on Feb 16, 2016 0:40:13 GMT -5
Cypress meandered through the ranks as best as he could, standing a little straighter than usual and feeling somewhat conspicuous in his green abbey robes. He had been little more than a dibbun when he had left Salamandastron, but he did recognize a few faces from his time there. His heart seemed to clench inside of him when that happened, which was strange and not at all welcome to the sensible young hare. He twitched his nose and ignored the feeling.
Everyone seemed to be in adequate condition, and, once he was content that they all knew where they could come for assistance, he turned to go. He spotted Ryle, though, and decided to make sure that his little friend was not being a bother to any of the tired newcomers.
"Ryle, are you supposed to be out here?" He asked mildly, looking at the stranger to silently ask if he needed to intervene.
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Post by Margorr on Feb 16, 2016 4:07:36 GMT -5
Humming an old otter lullaby het mother used to sing to her, Tarlya made her way from the kitchens towards the Abbey grounds. She was done with her chores for the day, and was looking forward to some alone time on her favorite wall spot. She wasn't even halfway through the Great Hall when she spotted the hare having a quiet conversation with the Abbot.. By the smart uniform he wore and the numerous medals pinned on his chest, she knew he had to be Long Patrol. That immediately made her think of Taurian. If the Long Patrol was here, maybe the badger lord would be too!
She was just about to dash off to find Taurian, when she spotted Gus hurrying inside towards the kitchen with his basket full of dandelions. She immediately flagged him down, and once he got close enough, she stopped him. "You're going to spill all those dandelions running around like that. What's going on?"
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Rylee tugged her snout at Cypress. "uz dibbuns iz playin' in ee orchards zurr. we norra beez any trubble furr ee 'ares. oi arsked noicely if ee gudd zurr would loike to play with oi, just loike ee favver h'abbot sed."
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As anxious as Boggs was to tell the Abbot the reason for The Long Patrol's presence, he knew that what the Abbot was suggesting would be the best route to go. He had marched his hares long and hard, and they would need proper rest if they were going to be at their best to fight any danger that may come their way. He took a deep breath and relaxed a little before addressing the Abbot again.
"Forgive me, Father. I've got so much on m' mind I forgot for a moment to care for my troops, wot. We number about five score in all. They've had a hard march, it'll do them good to rest their paws. The council suits me just fine. I'll go give my Patrol their orders, and I'll meet you in Cavern Hole for the council meetin'. Thank you for th' hospitality, Father."
Now that the Abbot was aware of their presence and what needed to be done, Boggs moved with a little less urgency, even going a little out of his way to stop and look at the Tapestry of Martin the Warrior. "As long as there's breath in m' body, I won't let anything happen to your Abbey." he whispered quietly to the Warrior. After looking at Martin a moment longer, he left to go address his patrol.
There were fewer dibbuns about than when he had left. Tsaron's warning must have gotten through to most of them. The Patrol stood to attention when they noticed Boggs approaching. Stopping in front of them, the Major barked out his order.
"Right then you lot! The order for now is rest an' relaxation! We've had a hard march, You've got the Abbot's good will to thank for not havin' to be up on those walls for sentry duty already. If I hear about one of you disrespectin' any of the fine creatures that live in this Abbey, I'll make you wish you were back at Salamandastron. Now! Dancepaw and Torren, you two come see me. Company Dismissed!"
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Post by Taurian on Feb 16, 2016 8:21:37 GMT -5
Taurian met Tarlya in the Great Hall, talking to one of the abbeybeasts, a novice, by his habit. She glanced over and saw the hare speaking with the Abbot. Tarlya had said something about the Long Patrol, a force of fighting hares, led by a Badger Lord. And wasn't the Badger Lord from Maelstrom? She began to turn towards the hare, but he briskly exited the hall before she could talk to him, so she turned back to Tarlya. "Mornin'. I trust the 'ares mean trouble on it's way. Fivescore fightin' beasts dinnae show up at an abbey door fer a spring picnic. I'll see if I can talk tae somebeast in charge, an' 'elp out 'owever I can." The otter turned to the novice. "'ello, I dinnae think we've been properly introduced. My name is Taurian Riverbull."
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Tsaron, who had been standing near the edge of Great Hall, walked over to the Abbot as Major Rifflerun left. "Ah take it that the council'll be meetin'. I'll go an' gather up the old 'uns. Should we ask fer Skipper, or a squirrel leader? From the looks o' it, the Long Patrol bring news of trouble fer the abbey."
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Post by Constable 216D on Feb 16, 2016 12:59:38 GMT -5
((Bless you Taurian for havin' Tsaron notice a blind ol' Abbot, haha <3))
Abbot Whittle could not suppress a warm smile as he noted the change in the Major's tone of voice. He listened quietly to the hare's brief report, offering him a courteous dip of the head in response to his comment about Redwall's hospitality. As he considered the sounds of the Major's receding pawsteps, the sudden realization of what the Major had said struck the Abbot like a thunderbolt. "Five score hares? Oh dear, Friar Ahndia will have her paws full cooking for that lot!" He turned in an inquisitive half-circle, trying to reorient himself in the direction of the kitchens, when the clicking of talons on stone interrupted the Abbot's racing thought process.
"Oh, Tsaron!" he cried, relieved. "Thank you for noticing this little lost Abbot, my friend. Yes, if you would notify the rest of the elders to report to Cavern Hole in about an hour's time, that would be most helpful. I agree with your suggestions for Skipper and a squirrel leader... the more sensible creatures in attendance, the better. Also, if you would, please designate one or two other Redwallers of your choice to fetch those on secondary kitchen staff duty; they will be needed to prepare for Redwall's honored guests. And might I borrow your eyes for a moment, Tsaron?" The Abbot paused, switching his walking staff to his other paw in a gesture of meek embarrassment. "Do you, ahem, see anybeast about who might guide me to the kitchens?" Abbot Whittle felt he had already made enough requests of Tsaron, and did not want to burden them unduly with an escort task.
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bye!
