I would like to thank my inspirations, Bluestripe the Wild and Verminfate-among many other Redwall Wiki users -for making such amazing fan fictions that inspired me to become a member and make my own story. Thank you guys!!!!!!
Kardag Svilatz the wildcat was in a fine mood. The violent corsair cat's ship, the Deadbeast, had attacked a little port filled with squirrels, and massacred them all. Svilatz laughed as the ship sailed away from the burning ruins, and carrying a score of prisoners. It was a great success after the defeat at the badger's mountain. Svilatz was truly barbaric, wearing a purple tunic and a cloak of mousefur. His eelskin belt carried a long scimitar and a twisted dagger, but in the wildcat's paws was the most ferocious of his weapons: A barbed mace. Waving it like a madbeast, the corsair bellowed his name to the seas: "Kardaaaggggg!!!!"
Thornclaw Braveheart was a loner stoat, an outcast from his tribe. Thornclaw's cruel father, Drehta Braveheart, ruled a tribe of robbers and bullies, and Thornclaw was commonly protesting against the nature of the group. However, soon after Thornclaw reached his fourteenth season, he tried to stop one tribe member, Gada Burghit, from torturing a wandering mouse, and was sent into exile. The young stoat was lost in the southwest lands, nearing the northern Toadlands, where Drehta's tribe never ventured; Thornclaw's grandfather, Piudst Braveheart, was killed when he tried to lead the stoats north, and Thornclaw knew that with only a long dagger and an ash stave for weapons, he would be dead once the toad hordes set upon him. If it weren't for a wildcat corsair known as Svilatz, the stoat tribe would be free as the wind. Many seasons before Thornclaw was born, even when Piudst was a young corsair captain, half the stoat crew were massacred in a vicious battle in the northern seas. Piudst fled with the remaining stoats and ventured in their last ship south, until they reached the swampy lands where they now lived-save Thornclaw. Thornclaw was pondering this when suddenly a crunching sound was heard. Lifting up his stave, Thornclaw crept towards a bush, the only plant in the area for leagues, and slowly reached it, smashing down with his bludgeoning weapon, but only to smash an already-cracked toad skull. Thornclaw pondered this incident to himself. Who would be wise enough to kill one of these toads? It's dangerous for anybeast. Then suddenly Thornclaw was frozen by a warcry: "Eeeulaaallliiiaaa!!!!"
At Redwall Abbey, Abbot Aecep was occupied with the task of looking after Dibbuns. Without a Badger Mother and most Abbeybeasts working in the kitchens for the Abbot's Jubilee, only Aecep, Sister Masil, and the young mole bellringer Mugg were available to watch the Dibbuns, who were picking strawberries. It was a beautiful summer day, as Recorder Brother Charles had written when he named the Summer of the Bright Sky, but for Mugg, it was too peaceful. He related this to the Abbot, "Oi say, it's been a-peaceloike far too long for ee. Sumthin' bees comin' to our Habbey soon."
"But," said Aecep, "For the past twelve seasons Skipper has not reported a single woodland rat in Mossflower. It sure is a time for peace again."
Sister Masil agreed with this, but commented, "You know, there's always Martin the Warrior to consider. Remember his prophecy to Abbess Germaine about a Warrior's Legacy? In a time of need, one will be Redwall's champion, so all we have to do is wait, and time will tell when our next Abbey Warrior comes."
After the strawberry picking was over (most were very small, due to the Dibbuns' appetites), a tall squirrel came from the woods. The stranger was robed in a black cloak and carried a thick spear, banging it's butt end on the Abbey door. When the gatekeeper, an otter known as Garet answered,
"Ah, if it ain't the good ole Faram Denesson coming back from travels. Come in, matey!" F aram Denesson had formerly been the bellringer of Redwall until he wandered from home, seeking adventure, but always returning home to tell the young uns of his travels. However, this time he had urgent news for the Abbot.
"I don't mean ter ruin the show," he reported, "but I was a-travellin' over in the western dunes when I saw a great big horde of rats an' weasels an' other vurmin marchin' eastwards!"
Many of the Brothers and Sisters of the Abbey were shocked at the message, but Aecep reassured them. "Patience, my good friends of Redwall. Perhaps these vermin aren't even heading for our home. They probably known nothing of our Abbey's existence!"
That was enough to calm down the more peaceful creatures of Redwall, but then Faram continued relating wat he saw:
"I tell ya, they are headin' directly to Mossflower. An' worst of all, some vicious-lookin' fox was at the head of that horde, waving some big sword and yelling 'Yamagg Alik!' like it was the last word he would ever get to say, an' if'n there wasn't the vurmin behind 'im, tha would be the last thing he woud ever get to say. Pity, that would save lots of trouble fer Redwall."
Abbot Aecep restored order among th panicking Abbeydwellers by giving out orders like a proper leader, "Calm down, everybeast! Tomorrow we will continue with the Jubilee, and then Faram will gather volunteers to defend Redwall against this vermin horde. I will also send a message to Skipper, and see if any squirrels can help as well. Now back to your duties, and remember: The spirit of Martin is with us. He will not let our Abbey fall too quickly."
With those words, Redwall Abbey was back to normal.....at least, for the time being.
Thornclaw saw a white blur flying out of the bush, but then he felt a hard object hit his head, and fell to the ground. He awoke with an aching skull to see a lanky hare sitting by a fire, while Thornclaw himself was lying on a cloak opposite the hare.
"Bally chap, actually thinkin' you could outwhack the Colonel Wenzel Lavender of the Long Patrol, wot!" Thornclaw realized that this hare was a friendly type, and asked,
"Wait, where am I, and what happened?"
Wenzel replied, "Calm down, scout. You're in the middle of the blinkin' Toadland deserts, and you tried to bally well whop me bonce with that twig you had. I had to chuck that slingerstone at you, or else I would have been the chap unconcious, wot wot! But wait, where are my manners? I am the Colonel Wenzel Bramblestar Lavender, Blademaster of the Long Patrol!"
Thornclaw could not believe his eyes. Other stoats in his father's tribe talked about Salamandastron, but Thornclaw had been warned never to go there. That warning was useless now:
"So, Colonel Lavender," asked Thornclaw, "Any chance you may bring me to Salamandaston? I'm lost here, and I was exiled by my father, whose tribe is in the south. No way I'm goin' there again, so what do you say? Care to help me?"
Lavender placed his paw on that of the young stoat, "Bet your bally whiskers I will!" Suddenly, a stomping sound was heard, followed by a croak.
"Get down, chap," said Wenzel, "It's the bally toadsters again." The Blademaster slipped on a thick leather gauntlet and picked up a great longsword, swinging it before the fire, and shouting his warcry. "Eulalia! Blood'n'vinegar!"
Suddenly, about a score of toads bearing tridents hopped quickly from the far west, one wielding a scythe and wearing a crown. This toad pointed at Wenzel, who was taking a warrior's stance before the amphibians, and shouted to his minions.
"Bulgum Bulgummmmmm!" Thornclaw got up and picked up his stave, which Wenzel had kept near the fire, and asked, "Wot's a Bulgum?"
"Oh I can guess that 'un, trooper," replied the hare. "I've dealed with these marshtoads before. A Bulgum is some sort of honored chap, like a magician. I hate it when they do this to us Long Patrollers." He lifted up his sword and charged at the marshtoads, swinging his blade like a pure arc of destruction, and crying:
"Euuulaaallliiiaaaa!! 'S death on the wind!" Thornclaw was with him, thwacking with his staff and shouting the same warcry, above the marshtoad leader's shouts:
"Yurrg Golchukkum furgalumm Boolawugg!"
Wenzel was among the marshtoads with fury, slicing here an there, delivering injury and death, but the toad leader crept away, to be confronted by Thornclaw and his stave. The toad lifted his scythe up high, and swung downwards with all his might.
Suddenly, the toad leader dropped his scythe behind him, groaning madly until he fell aside, revealing an immense slice on his back. Wenzel was sitting by the fire, wiping his sword and grinning,
"That's the end for that marshtoad, wot?"
Thornclaw gasped in amazement and shock, "You just killed him that quickly?"
"Aye, chum," was Wenzel's response, "nobody wants to go about murdering those scum, but it's them or us, wot wot!"
"Right there, Colonel! So, where to now?"
Wenzel answered, "First, don't call me Colonel. Either Wenzel or mate will do. Secondly, we are headin' north, to the good old Salamandastron, where the bally Lord Silverstripe resides and awaits my blinkin' return. So therefore, we best be gettin' our up there next morn." That night, after a frugal dinner of Wensel's blueberry scones and mountain ale, Thornclaw fell alseep, but Wenzel kept an eye open, and a paw on his blade. Around midnight, Wenzel heard voices nearby. He shrouded himself in a cloak, sheathed his longsword, and crept around a bush.
"Yarr, mate, we's better git outta thiz 'eat soon, or my paws'll git burned offen!"
"Sharrap yew fool, or yew'll wake up that rabbet an' the stoater!"
"Er, so wharra we gonna do wid dem, Chief?
Another, much deeper and vicious voice was heard:
"Yarr, we go catchem! Go ahead an' kill de stoater, but that rabbit, I knew by his clothing that he's one o' dem Yoo-lady-lar fellers or wotever dey calls demselves. We go an' catchem rabbit an' holds 'im 'ostage at de mountain where all dem rabbits live. Now, Gurto, git yer club an' bonce 'im. I don't care wot you does to de stoater, just keep de rabbit alive an' take all 'is vittles!"
With that, four vile-looking rats and a fox snook towards Wenzel's campsite. The seasoned Long Patroller feigned sleep as the fox prodded him with an axe handle, before seeing the great long blade of Wenzel.
"Ooh, lookit this 'ere, rats! Dat blade is mine naow! 'Ey yew, Bloodeye, git yer filfy paw away from me new sword!"
With that, Wenzel arose, picked up his sword, and sliced the rat called Bloodeye in half. Another rat ran forward and picked up his fallen spear, and prodded it at the hare's back.
"Yew dere, rabbet, drop dat bladey an' gimme all yer vittles an' oder weapons. Now!"
That was enough for the Colonel. He rose his blade and decapitated the rat, but the one called Gurto charged with his club. Wenzel yelled his battlecry, "Eulaliaaaa!!" and Gurto's weapon was sliced in half. The bandit rat tossed his broken weapon aside and drew a knife, leaping at Wenzel, only to be impaled by his blade. The fox chief dropped his hatchet in shock, and the last rat started blubbering.
"No, nono kill me or me chief! Spare us, please please! Waaaah!"
Wenzel stiffled laughter and pushed his blade point into the ground, and took rope from the fallen rats, rope that was intended to go around the hare. Thornclaw had awoken and picked up his staff, and helped Wenzel tie the fox and rat together, back to back. Their forepaws and footpaws were tied together as Wenzel said, "Alrighty chaps, today you ain't gonna get killed! Yer all blinking cowards, hear that? Now, this is what you are all gonna do. I will count to five, and when I am done, I don't want to see you fellers here again! If you come back, I ain't going to spare ye again. Ready! One...."
Wenzel never even made it to two when the rat and fox tried to get away, tripping over each other's rope coils and their own footpaws. Thornclaw was bursting with laughter,
"Lookit there, Wenzel, never made it a fair game, eh?"
"Right," replied the hare, "But now, get back to sleep. We got a jolly long day's journey ahead of us!" And those words ended the conversation as both creatures rested, but as always, Wenzel kept one eye open and one paw on his sword.
The beaches were no longer peaceful. North of Salamandastron, the ferret Dirz the Maul and his horde were preparing. A thousand rats armed with a huge assortment of gear were buckling up to march south. Dirz the Maul was a tall ferret, clad in a thick cloth breastplate and kilt, and wearing eelskin gloves. Slung over his back by a belt was one of the most curious weapons ever: A double-bladed sword, taller than a spear. It had a hilt longer than Dirz's own forearm, and two blades twice the size of his torso jutted from either end. The Maul used his weapon like a quarterstaff with devastating results. At this time he was walking through his horde, and was met by his lieutenant, a searat called Blackeye.
"Arrh, lourd, de mountin is fulla rabbets, hundreds o' dem! Still, we beatem dead, right, lourd?"
"Right yew are, Blackeye. It is a grand honour ter take a mounting made by greatbeasts, but soon those rabbit's heads will be mounted on the walls! My horde is ready, right?"
"Right?" replied Blackeye, "We are ready ter serve ya in dis great batter, eh?"
"Correct, my good friend."
Blackeye left and returned to a fire, where his henchrats Bloogle, Filthpaw, and Mulch were roasting a gull. The lieutenant winked at Bloogle, who offered him a seat and whispered,
"So, does de lourd o' de horde wanna take dat mounting? We all 'ave 'eard o' ould Dirz's love for a fortress o' 'is own, but warrabout uz?"
"Calm daown, Bloog. Let Blackey talk!"
"Thank you, Mulch," said Blackeye, and he began his report. "As yew know, our lourd wants to command 'is horde frumm a big fortress. We ain't found a good un ever, until terday. The Maul wants uz to prepare for fight within a few days, so yew better hurry up wit yer plans, eh?"
Filthpaw, a very dull rat, asked, "Erm, lieutent, wot plan?"
The lieutenant drew a curved dagger under Filthpaw's neck. "De plan tew killa dat Dirz! Idjit! De plan is fer yew ter take a nice likkle dagger an' put it in the ould lourd's throater, gorrit yew fishbrain? Bloog, yer tew be wit me, an' we must act like we did not'ink if'n it all goes wrong. Filther, yer goin' to be fine, just foller wot I say! An' Mulch, yew start actin' like a bodygard ter de lourd, an' give Filthpaw time ter killem. Gorrit, mates?"
All three rats replied, "Aye aye, lieutent!" and left from talking. Blackeye ate his leg of gull and then left the company of his henchrats to look for Dirz. He found the ferret warlord yelling at another rat, the rebellious Gullsnout.
"Yarr, yer nought but an ould fiz-faced polecat wid a douber bodkin!"
Dirz the Maul replied, "Well, yer better run, because it's on, Gullsnout!"
Gullsnout was armed with a long javelin, a cutlass, and battleaxe, while Dirz had nought but his double-bladed sword. However, most of the rats had seen their lord wield his weapon, and knew it could defeat any. Gullsnout plucked his spear from the ground and started jabbing crazily at the Maul, who kept his blade slung on his back. He dodged the mad stabbing of the rat, and eventually drew his blade and sliced the head of the javelin straight off. Gullsnout dropped the broken shaft and drew his cutlass in his right paw and hefted from his back the axe, and with a whirlwind motion began hacking at Dirz. However, the ferret moved with lightning speed and dodged every single blow, but then spun around and stabbed the rat in the armpit. Gullsnout looked at his bleeding side and gasped before crumpling onto his own dropped battleaxe, decapitating himself. Dirz lifted the head up, showing it to all the rats of his horde:
"Yeww see, this is what happens to those that brag!"