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A wiry hare shot down a dusty road, the gruff voice of a shrew yelling after him. "Stop that theif!" As the wind kicked up behind his heels, he sniggered, opening his bag of stolen food. "This'll Make a chap rest good at night, wot?" Running past an encampent, he kept running, only to find his feet no longer on the ground. Looking up, he looked into the face of a large otter, who was holding him up by the ears, his fur dark brown and matted. "What are you doing, Tragg??"
The Hare looked up inicintly, straight at the otter. "I was just trying to get a good scoff, sah. Can't a chap get any good food anymore, wot?" As a shrew came racing up he pointed at the hare. "This lil' rascal stole my grub!!" He shouted at the otter. The otter sighed, "Aye, Log-a-Log. I knew he would. But you're getting kinda slow, aren't cha??" Log-a-Log then nodded. "Aye Skip. Must be the grey in my fur. That and he's a confounded hare! A feedbag on legs if yeh asked me."
Tragg looked inbetween the two, attmpting to pull himself free. Looking up at the hare, Skipper sighed. "What'll we do with yah, mate? You keep stealin' food. Yah know this isn't Redwall. We don't all have that much food." Sighing, Tragg stopped fighting. "Chap, I have nothing else to do. I mean it, wot? I'm out of food and the jolly ole' missus will have my hind tail if I don't get any food." Skipper nodded, and let him go. "Alright, we'll feed yeh, and give you some to take home. Might as well get a story with it too, huh?"
Tragg nodded, grinning. "New ye'd say that, old pal! Or my name isn't Trogget Williams Fleetspaw!" Smiling, the otter led Log-a-Log and Tragg into his small village. "Yew both ken' eat, but weh'll stay with Wildrush, kay?" Tragg kept pace easily, and looked up at Skipper. "You mean to say that blastfounded creature isn't greyed to death? I'll be!"
The entire group went quietly into a hut, and Skipper shook a sleeping form in the corner. "Hey, Wildrush, you awake?" The being turned over, rubbing his eyes. It was a Wildcat! "Yeah, you know I can't ever get a good wink o' sleep round this place." His fur was matted and greyed completely, and his stomach was stout, yet his figure showed he used to be of great fitness. His eyes were a pale green, and his whiskers long and slightly curved. Sitting up, he leaned against the back wall of his hut.
"So did you come for a story?" He asked, his paw rummaging through a small bundle against the wall. "Aye, we did, mate." Said Skipper, his rudderlike tail thwacking against the ground as he sat. "And we got us all some vittles to go with it. Sound good to yew?' The wildcat shuckled, and nodded in agreement. "Aye. Now lets see....." Rummaging through his bag, he smiled, pulling out a long bronze trident, and laying it in front of the fire in the center of the hut. "This here.... This is my old weapon. And with it...... I began my long journey......"
BOOK ONE: THE TRIDENT
Chapter 1: The island was dark and murky..... The grass dead with age, a fortress standing over the hill. It appeared to be the only thing in shape, and ended up to be, other than a large area of wooden houses. This was the isle of Blackrock. It held over 10 score wildcats, 5 score vermin, and 2 score slaves. The castle was aflow with activity, wildcats going in and out, a sentry posted at each side of the entrance. Suddenly, the crowds parted, and a large cart wheeled its way through. Cast out of metal, five slaves pulled it, thin and weak. Sat upon a throne in the cart, was a powerful figure.
His head was draped in a barbaric war helmet, an iron helemet with a large spike protruding from the top. His body was draped in a magnificent blue cloak of pure silk, and a thin tunic of white underneath it. In his right paw, he held a powerful Silver Trident. It was studded with jewels and gold, it power great. Standing up, he motioned for the slaves to stop, and they did, as well as the crowds growing silent. For, it was the voice of Felics Rangclaw they heard!
"Listen, my people!" His voice echoed across the square, "I am your king, and I bring news to you! We will sail from this accursed isle in a new fleetof ships, more powerufl than half of what you have seen. We will sail for riches, plunder, and fortress! We will take Kotir, the castle that we so long ago heard from Verduaga Greeneyes about. WE SHALL RISE AGAIN!!" Cheering and clapping could be heard throughout the crowd, and he walked back into his dreary cart. "Listen, children." His three matured children turned to him, his three powerful Wildcat children, each one bearing a long, bronze trident. "I do not intend on taking most of these fools...... As such.... I want you, Trasigna," He said to his eldest and only Daughter, "I want you to kill the old oes, no use to waste food..... You, Rafar," He said to his middle child, "Will slave the young ones. We need them for their energy.... And Lastly, Wildclaw," he said, a slight hiss in his voice, "I already told you what you need to do earlier, so you know, correct?" Wildclaw nodded, his bronze trident highly polished, a bronze and weighted net handging from his other paw. "Good......."
Turning around, Felics smiled, as they enterd the castle grounds. Wildrush gulped at the prospect of what he had to do..... He didn't like it one bit. For he, would be the one to slay his elder sister and brother once they completed their tasks.
Chapter 2: Extract from writings of Rickery the Recorder
Today....... Well, today was another simple day. The Dibbuns attempted to take the scones from the windowsills.... Et Cetera.... Everything is so quiet as of late. It has been over 20 seaons since we have seen the face or paw of any vermin...... Though, I shouldn't be complaining about it, should I? I must be getting dumb in my old age..... Ah well. However, we did have one thing today. A hare came to the abbey! My, the beast ate us out of home and house, but he was great fun. He said there were more coming..... Friar Cubert fainted at the very thought of feeding more hares. We laughed until our ribs ached at the poor beast! Ah..... It was a good day all in all. Well, I suppose i'll close this old book and go get some sun..... I Think i'll have some fun with the Dibbuns..... The Rascals will wear my pelt sooner or later if they keep me up like it though.
As Rickery tiredly closed his volume, he slowly stood up, groaning as his old bones shifted. His fur turning silver, he had begun to age rather fast these days.... He Always blamed it on the Dibbuns. No one could blame him for not, seeing as they were proper little rotters this season.
As he walked down the lush lawn, he ran into a pretty mouse-maid by the name of Brushtail. The oddthing about it was... Her Name was true to the tail! She actually used her tail in order to paint, of which she was doing at the moment. Smiling at her, he waved. "So what are you painting today, Brushtail?" Leaning down on the tree and sitting down, she turned to the old mouse. "Oh, nothing much," She said, her sing-song voice singing out into the cool summer air, "Just the abbey as always....." As she continued to paint, she and everyone else knew naught about the danger waiting... Waiting... Forever waiting.....