High on the peaks of the Northern mountains sat a sanctuary to all in need of it's aid. It was a stone castle made out of the granite chunks on the mountain and no one had lived in it for countless seasons. The lone wandering mouse looked up at it through eyes like a tropical sea. He sat his stick against the rotted oak door and walked in gazing round at the carvings and ruined paint job inside. The place had a splendid ruin about it, the once rich colors were faded and moss-covered, the walls overgrown with ivy, were slick and dark. The mouse walked ever onwards until he reached a large banqueting hall and seated in the moth-eaten chair was an otter. He wore armor and carried a sharp blade, the otter's eyes were piercingly dark and a scar ran down his right eye. He raised his head to meet the mouse.

"I was wondering when you'd show." He said in a voice like thunder. Obviously he had been a commander of sorts when he was younger. The mouse shrugged.

"Climbing mountains isn't my specialty, sir." He said with a belittling smile. The otter smiled back.

"I'm glad you could make it. It's a long journey from Redwall Abbey."

"How did you know that I come from the Abbey?" The mouse said in awe. The otter smiled mysteriously.

"Oh, I don't know. I suppose it was a dream of sorts. A mouse told me that you would arrive today. I knew you were from the Abbey from the get-go. Why else would Martin the Warrior send you to this place?" The otter stood and slightly limped to a table where he had a large shield laid out along with a well-used spear. "Listen and learn, my little mouse to a tale of some of the finest warriors an otter has ever marched with. You see, it began with a dream..."

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