REDWALL FAN-FIC :D By Bloo

OOC: Don't respond, because I'm going chapter by chapter.



Dark purple clouds layered over the blue sky of Mossflower Woods. Winds began whipping the oak and beech branches violently and their leaves twirled into the darkness leaving them bare. The storm began as the heavy rain began pummeling the grass down.
The Redwall Abbey, a massive fortress built out of red sandstone and home to many creatures loomed over the forest. The inhabitants were safe inside the Main Abbey building, eating a wonderful array of food for dinner.

"Burr, et shor doez looks kold outside..." Said Tara in her curious mole dialect.
The other creatures nodded and murmured in agreement. "My guess is The Big Spring Storm is finally here!" The voice was of Abbess Miya.
The creatures looked about excitedly. "Spring iz heah!" said a little mousebabe.

Footfalls echoed through the halls as Recorder Brom walked into the Greathall. He held up some old ripped papers in victory. "I found the Tale of Gingivere!" He cried. The animals looked around happily as he sat down in a chair and flipped though the pages. "Ahh... Here it is. The Story of Gingivere....."

Lord Baskar was cruel.
Gingivere was the youngest of the slaves to work under the Lord. They were beaten and whipped, starved and tired. But Gingivere was different. He didn't let himself be brought down by the cruel insults and beatings the guards thew at him.
" 'urry up, scumnose!" The weasel spat in Gingivere's face.
"Scumnose?" Gingivere replied. "Now, you're not talking into a mirror right now." He smiled unhumourously as the weasel looked taken-a back. The guard took one last look at him and hurried off to pick on weaker slaves. Gingivere was a very unusal squirrel. He had jet black fur, which was very rare. And no one ever knew where he came from. Just one day, he appeared. None of the guards knew, not even Lord Baskar. But the guards ignored it, secretly fearing the strange black furred squirrel.

Gingivere looked about. Some mice slaves worked in front of him as they hauled the heavy timber through the sand. Beside him, an otter and a hare were paired up. All of them had dull, dead eyes. None of them contained the gleam that Gingivere had in his eyes. He closed his eyes and thought of the docks were, and the 3 logboats docked at them. He needed to tell the others. Three was enough for all 40 slaves, wasn't it?


3 hours later they all limped back into the slave quarters, a small room about the size of a big closet. They slumped down onto the sand covered floor, and the guard locked the barred down behind them. Gingivere crept up, looked about making sure no other guards could see, and punched the back of the weasel's head. He keeled over and fell the the floor, unconcious. Gingivere smiled ruthfully and turned to the wide-eyed slaves. "We're breaking out." He whispered.
"Tonight."

OMG AWESOME :D
Dooooood, i would never have thought to write about squirrels :D
You did an awesome job though!

Nicely done, Bloo ^^ I dun like dis series, but nice :P

ooc: SHe said don't respond..

Oh, it's okay XP Thanks guys! :DD

Far west, from the cruel and painful enviroment of Lord Baskar's fortress, deep in the Woods of Mossflower, the Redwall Abbey was bustling with activity. Cooks buzzed and ran around the orchard, picking fruit from the trees and gathering it for breakfast.
Whispe, an unusually small but lean white and grey hare was a nuisance to the cooks.
"Well, those apples look jolly well good for some brekkist, I might say so m'self, wot, wot!" She declared in her thick hare accent. "Mebbe you might be able to give me a couple to eat before thy meal, wouldn't wan' me to starve, wot, wot!"
The pickers rolled there eyes. "Why don't you help and it would speed things up so breakfast would be served sooner, Whispe!" Mumbled Char, the head chef of the Abbey.
Whispe looked around, "Naw, I'll be more jolly useful somewhere else, wot, wot!" And she dashed off to the Great Hall to help set the table.
The gathering crew sighed in relief and continued their work.

At breakfast, Whispe was known to be the most gluttonous creature at the table, piling fruits and pasteries onto her plate. "Mhm, these apple turnovers are scrumptiously gud, I helped wit' 'em, wot, wot!" The Abbey beasts laughed and ate their breakfast.

As the day passed, Whispe hurried in and out of the kitchens, stealing vittles and snacks. And when the time to go to bed came, she had the weirdest dreams.
Images of Longboats fleeing arrows and spears rushed through her head. Then, the flash of black fur and gleaming eyes. She tossed and turned, then the pictures faded away. She was in the middle of Mossflower, and a mouse came towards her and said. "Watch for the fleeing slaves, and their black furred leader...."
Whispe woke up, blinking. The mouse looked very familiar. She dashed down into the Greathall and came to stand in front of a great woven tapestry of Martin the Warrior, the founder and great hero of the Abbey. It had been Martin in her dream! She studied it, mind racing. Her dream had meant something!

It was a prophecy!