Things Better Left Unvisited:

Exactly What It Sounds Like, Mates.


Moles.

In real life, they're antisocial, carnivorous, subterranean, nearly blind, stubby-legged, crazy-breedin' giant shrews that can't swim and are apparently not bright enough to stay out of puddles deep enough to drown them until they're neck-deep in it.

In the Redwallverse, they're infallibly friendly, oddly vegan, nearly blind, stubby-legged, crazy-breedin' giant shrew that can't swim but always seem to get sent on sea-going adventures. And they're said to be a subterranean society, but aside from one short reference in Mossflower to the underground realm of Moledeep, they are never seen in an underground complex ever again. There's also the matter of their hard-as-hell to understand accent.

Or is it a language? The books never clarify what it is exactly. Some call it a dialect, but that is not what dialect means. And how come it changes in every book? Isn't it the same accent/language/dialect? And why don't any of the other species of animals have their own particular and hard to understand accent/language/dialect?

The otters...sort of have something, a kind of Cornish accent (Ol' Brian was said to favor the Cornwall area, known for it's sailors and longshoremen... and smugglers...). But it's not so indescribably different and, how can I say this with more clarity, DIFFICULT TO UNDERSTAND AS A POODLE WATCHING A DANDELION BE SLOWLY RUN OVER BY A TRUCK IN BELGIUM ON A BRIDGE. It's just a few more "mateys" and a few less "g"'s on the end of verbs. And then there's the accent that just sounds a bit British-y that just about anybeast can have it, goodbeast or vermin. Then there's a whole bunch of other, including Ye Olde Butcherede Englishe, which kept getting used by hedgehogs for some reason until it instead kept getting used for old foxes.

No one seems to understand the molespeech very well unless they've spoken to moles very often before. Makes you wonder what they teach in that Abbey School of theirs...


*Messin' With Moles*

Everybeast was having a grand old time, except for the mouse that was made to sit in the midst of about two dozen moles, subjected to the horrible torture of the "humm"-ing and the "urr"-ing.

"Ho urr, oi be much partial to ee strawburry curr'dial, humm."

"Oi, ee zoop be moigthy foine too."

"Yurr, Billyumm, troi ee gudd puddin' an' ee zoop t'gethurr."

"Burr, et be guid, zurr."

"Yurr, burr, oi loik et, urr humm urr."

"How'd ee mousey fellurr loik to troi ee turrrnip 'n' taturr 'n' beetroot poi?"

Suddenly the mouse snapped, leaping up onto the table and screaming like bloody murder. He stomped all the wonderful not very heart-healthy vegan food plus shrimp and cheese into pulp as he ranted and raved, terrifiying the poor Abbeydwellers with his sudden fit of insanity.

"YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAAAAAAAH! NO MORE URRRRRRING! DEATH BE TO THE MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEESSSSS!"

The next day during the trial, everybeast was left to wonder what had gotten into the youth. Until next feast time, when the same thing happened with a squirrel...


More may follow. If you like, you may leave an as-of-yet unanswered bit of unusual Redwall yore as a suggestion, but it is more than likely I'll cover the grand majority of oddness and unmentioned unmentionableness.