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Spoiler warning!!! If you have not read Rakkety Tam then do NOT read this fan fic. (well you can if you want, but don't say I didn't warn you!!)
It was deep midwinter in Mossflower Woods. Snowflakes drifted gently to the ground to disappear within the snow already on the forest floor. All was still and quiet, as the fire burned low in Cavern Hole at Redwall Abbey. In front of it sat many creatures, squirrels, otters, moles, hedgehogs, mice, and hares. Sitting in an armchair sat one old squirrel in particular, Wild Doogy Plumm. Across from him sat his best friend, Rakkety Tam MacBurl along with his wife Armel. Around them sat Tam's child and grandchildren, as well as many of their friends, including Ferdimond, Kersey and Dauncy de Mayne, Foremole Mudge, Sister Mimsie, and in another armchair sat Abbot Burlop. As the older creatures sat and talked of the old days Tam's grandchildren who were named Rakkety Tam II and Linmelda came up to him and asked.
“Can you tell us a story Grandad? Pleeeeeeeeeease?”
Tam smiled down at his two little grandsquirrels and said in his northern accent.
“A story ye say? Well now, why should ye two be wantn' a story from me? I was never very good at story telln'. Why don't ye ask yore Great Uncle Doogy over there? He'll give ya' a braw tale won't ya' Doogy mate?”
Doogy's accent was broader then Tam's because he came from farther north.
The two small squirrels ran over to Doogy and grabbed on to his footpaws shouthing.
“Yes, yes! Tell us a story please Great Uncle Doogy!!”
The highland squirrel winked across at his friend and then said to the two little squirrels.
“Aye, ah'll tell ya' a braw tale. And yore auld grandaddy is right, ah can spin a better one then 'im! Especially thisn' because, I was there.”
Tam's daughter Melanda the recorder of Redwall took out quill and parcment and began writing down all that her Uncle Doogy told.
Book 1 Bowlaynee Castle
Far far far to the north of Redwall Abbey, on the far north side of the Northern Mountains set next to a deep, shimmering lake to the west. A mountain's rock wall to the south. And to the east and north, thick pine forests grew lush and tall, so deep that a some parts you could just barely see the sun.
Set in the middle of all this was a small, rustic village, with cottages, a blacksmith shop, a large dining hall for all to gather to for feasts, a well, and many more such structures. But in contrast to the quaint little village, next to it stood a tall majestic stone castle. Bowlaynee Castle. Home of the Highland Hares. It was both a stronghold and a home, a defensible dwelling, built for both war times and peace. The master of this castle was a warrior born. Malcolm McScutta the hare Laird of Bowlaynee Castle was a fierce fighter feared by all his enemies, but like in the way of his fortress's contrasted appearance, he was also, was a kind and just ruler.
Sir Jaycro Plumm raced down the hall's of Bowlaynee castle. Despite it's stone appearance from outside it was actually very comfortable within. As Jaycro raced to his and his family's quarters he could not help but glance at the splendid decorations about the hall. Tapestries, armor and weapons, rugs on the floor and many more wonderful items. Upon reaching his destination, the squirrel quietly opened the door and slipped inside. Lying on a bed on the far side of the room was his wife, Alianna. In her paws she held a baby squirrel, Jaycro's new son. Sitting in two armchairs next to the bed were Jaycro's father and mother, Doogan and Rhoolae Plumm. The old squirrels were gazing tenderly down at their new grandchild. Jaycro came forward, bursting with excitement.
“It's here! What tis it, a lad or a lass?”
Alianna looked up at him and smiled. “Tis a lad.” she replied.
Jaycro beamed and leaped with joy. Just then a knock came at the door.
“Come in.” said Jaycro
The door opened and Laird Malcolm McScutta entered. Malcolm was a tall, broad chested hare about in-between his early and middle seasons.
“Ah, came tah see the bonnie wee bairn.” the Laird said. “ Ah, knew you was expectin' one.”
“He's right over thare.” Jaycro said proudly. A braw wee lad.”
“A lad ye say?” replied Malcolm. “Weel then. Ah guess you have a successor ta yore title, Sir Jaycro Plumm. Wot will the newest member o' the Plumm clan be named.?”
Jaycro, Alianna and Doogan looked at each other and smiled.
“He's ta be called Doogy, after mah father's name somewhat.” proclaimed Jaycro.
Malcolm pondered this, then nodded. “Doogy. A braw good name ah should sae.”
And with that, the hare stepped out of the room and into the hallway without. As he did so he called over his shoulder. “Ah'll look forward ta seein' that one when he's ald enough ta be a warrior.”
And a warrior Doogy did become.