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Post by fernleaf on Oct 25, 2016 21:33:14 GMT -5
Fernleaf led the way to the dorms, with the otterbabe on his back as he played horsey. Finally, they were there, where Snowpaw would keep them safe from the vermin. Fernleaf had sworn to keep them safe as well. He rolled over and both otter and ferret hermit lay in a fit of the giggles. Suddenly, Fernleaf stopped. The room had vanished, and he was in a great forest. He heard the footpaws of a large beast, a badger approaching. Finally, he came into view. Fernleaf got on his knees before the Badger Lord of the past, Lord Tokal.
"You have done well these past seasons, ferret." said the badger. "But mark my words. Soon comes your greatest trial, the choice that arises before you. It is whether to break your vow and turn back to being vermin, or to keep it and become a goodbeast at last. Consider well, your life depends upon it." The vision faded and the ferret was still on his knees. He was trembling. "I will not fail you, my lord." he said at last with a feeble voice.
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Post by Taurian on Nov 2, 2016 3:45:25 GMT -5
Tsaron fluttered about the dormitories uneasily. Their gut twisted with worry, and they prayed silently that the Abbot knew what he was doing, and that the Major's hares could truly take the gathered vermin.
It wasn't the first time in Redwall's history that vermin had entered the gates to parley, but the hooked prosthetic the captain wore made them apprehensive about the whole affair. Part of the owl longed to be in the midst of the parley, but Tsaron knew that they had to remain with the dibbuns, and keep them safe if the parley went sour.
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In the muted ruckus of the dibbuns, Taurian lightly nudged Tarlya, leaning in to whisper, "I think the badgermarm an' Tsaron can manage this lot, if ye want tae go see th' parley. We'd 'ave tae be quiet."
She looked over at Tsaron, who met her eyes and nodded. The owl had given their blessing for Taurian to leave the dormitories. "Or, if ye'd like, we can go back tae that library ye showed me, read about vermin parleys o' old," the ottermaid suggested.
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Post by jinxwolf34 on Jan 16, 2017 13:58:15 GMT -5
Deathfang's tail wagged with glee as the Redwall gates began to open. Those little idiots would have no idea what hit them. Fang still had to work out how they were going to get past the vermin horde and the huge brute of a wildcat that was Argrav. But for now, they were curious to see what the inside of the Abbey was like. Hopefully, under Parley, they would be able to get a look at the layout before nightfall.
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Streamflower's heart jumped into her mouth as she heard the order to allow the vermin in. Hares bustled around her, dropping weapons as they prepared to go to the gate. The Skipper sighed. "Turlien, with me!" She shouted down to her warriors. "The rest of you, play nice and no threatening the vermin. I don't want to get us kicked out cause one of you started a war." The gray otter caught up to her as she dropped her weapons into the hands of one of her warriors. Feeling naked without the trident on her back, Streamflower straightened her tunic and clasped the charm of her necklace for comfort. "Tell me if you recognize any of the vermin, Turlien." The Skipper ordered as they crossed through the crowd of nervous Abbey residents and joined watchful Long Patrol Hares.
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Post by Margorr on Jan 18, 2017 0:40:55 GMT -5
"As y' wish, Father." the Major remarked quietly as he led the Abbot down the stairs. His hares were opening the gates for the Vermin, who had complied and removed their weapons. All except for Argrav, who had left his hooked prosthetic on. It didn't look like the wildcat could remove it without removing the whole prosthetic. For hospitality's sake, the Major would let him keep it, but he'd have to be wary of this Argrav. In a low whisper, he gave his report to the Abbot.
"Four vermin are comin' in. Mean looking lot, wot. There's a weasel, she's got a short tail, an' looks agitated. The rat keeps lookin' around, probably scopin' out the Abbey for later if I could guess. Th' fox looks off, can't place why. Argrav, the leader, has on a hooked prosthetic. I'd keep your distance, Father." He said. The vermin stopped a few feet away from the Abbot and the Major. Major Rifflerun let go of the Abbot's paw, knowing the old mouse could make his way around from here.
"Look sharp you vermin. You're in th' presence of th' Abbot of Redwall. You'll show him the utmost respect, or you'll have to bally well deal with me."
"We understand completely." Argrav said, giving the hare a wicked grin. "Why don't we head inside and get this Parley started. I'm sure you and your creatures are anxious to hear what I've come for, after all."
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Tarlya fussed with the hem of her sleeve. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do. Sure, she was curious about the vermin, but they also terrified her. Having had to deal with vermin in the past had left Tarlya with a particularly strong distaste for them. Reading up in the library might be helpful, but then again, so would getting a glance at their enemy. Taking Taurian's paw, Tarlya made her decision.
"Let's go see the parley, if they'll let us. I want to see what's going on. The idea of Vermin in our Abbey frightens me, but I know I'll be okay if you're with me."
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Post by Taurian on Jan 19, 2017 4:50:13 GMT -5
Taurian grinned at Tarlya, blushing slightly. "We'll be safe, I'm sure. There's tons o' fightin' creatures at th' Abbey now, an' besides, I think th' two o' us could take whate'er vermin they let inside." At the back of her mind, she remembered going on patrol with Skipper. Presa always found some excuse not to go, but it was one of Taurian's favorite activities. On patrol, she learned the different types of silence. The silence when there was no one there, and the silence of someone staying as quiet as they could. Taurian hoped they wouldn't have to fight, not at a parley, but it always paid to remember how to.
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Post by Constable 216D on Jan 20, 2017 15:41:41 GMT -5
The raindrops continued to sprinkle from the sky, low rumbles of thunder sounding in the distance, as Abbot Whittle descended the wallsteps led by the tentative paw of Major Rifflerun. Sensing the fleeting presences of creatures all around him, Abbot Whittle directed any passing Redwaller to a task - some were to fetch important members to attend the parley, others were sent to spread the news of the arrival of the vermin horde. The Abbot felt fully in his element, authoritatively delegating everybeast to an errand of utmost importance. He had just finished instructing somebeast to inform the Abbey Chef to prepare a brief repast for the parley when the Major's voice startled him. He had been so caught up in giving out instructions, the Abbot briefly forgot the Major was leading him. The feeling of solid earth and slightly wet grass beneath his footpaws helped ground Abbot Whittle enough for him to listen closely to the Major's words.
What a motely assortment of creatures this warlord has in his group, the Abbot pondered. He couldn't help but crack the smallest of smiles at the Major's not-so-subtle threat of obedience. He doubted their villainous visitors would show him much respect, but he appreciated the Major's meaning all the same.
What the Abbot did not expect was how quickly the stranger called Argrav would reply. His voice, laced with a sickly sweetness that gave away the presence of the wicked grin on his face, descended from the air far above the Abbot. The old mouse estimated he was relatively tall, and with a prosthetic hook he would probably strike anybeast looking at him as quite the barbaric sight. Abbot Whittle stood stock still where the Major had released his paw, thoughtfully probing the aura of contained power Argrav gave off. He turned his body squarely in the direction from whence the warlord has spoken as the tempo of raindrops began to increase.
"Anxious, perhaps, but not in the way you may be thinking, my son." The Abbot surprised himself with how strong and grave his voice sounded. "It is my wish that you and your creatures be comfortable, rather than standing out on the path in the pouring rain. Doubtless you have travelled far." He gripped his staff in both paws and tapped the dampening ground twice. "Major, please escort our guests to Great Hall after you have made certain they have left their weapons behind. I will go ahead of you to prepare a table for them. Might I borrow two of your hares to accompany me?"
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bye!
