Prologue
Liulfr Darkpaw was quite a large beast for his age of merely fourteen. It was said that he could see anything within two miles of him, even in the deepest forest; but that part was purely a rumor made up by the captains of the horde he commanded. Liulfr wore no armor, unlike his hordebeasts; he preferred being swift then being encased in a suit of metal. Running could save a beast's life. He did, however, carry a massive Warhammer, a long hardwood pole attached to the crushing end. That was it; he needed no others.
Liulfr came from the lands of Ice and Snow across the great seas. His mother had been a snow fox; she had died when he was young. Liulfr had never known her name. His father had been the most ruthless beast ever to sail on the seas, a great Timber Wolf called Rafe Darkpaw. Rafe had died fighting a mighty wolverine hybrid named Zyntec Tataroo, and had nearly taken the monster's life with him.
The Timber Wolf's army, which he had aptly nicknamed the Darkblade, consisted of over two thousand beasts, an assortment of fox, ermine, rats, ferrets, stoats, weasels, and his second in command, a large Poisonteeth adder called Sarrow Poisonfang Ripface Goldeye. Every hordebeast was armed with a varied assortment of weapons; bows, knives, slings, javelins, spears, tridents, staffs, maces, sabres, claymores, katana, cutlass, rapiers, and longswords.
And they were aiming to take over Redwall.