Mossflower

Abbess Fern, Foremole, Mallow, and the two Wiltuds stood over Darkfang the fox.

"So, you say you can get is in Redwall?"

"Aye, dat's right."

"Hmm... And you won't just tell us to walk through the destroyed wall? They've got guards all around there."

Darkfang snickered. "Heehee! Dis never woulda 'appened if Darkblood lived. But Griv fergot all about it! If it wasn't for Firak, they wouldn't even 'ave guards up! Foller me!"

The fox got up and started walking, Borgy Wiltud behind him holding a knife. The fox fingered his long black tooth as he walked into the woods. He pointed forward. "Ye use dis, see?"

The trebuchet was there with a few projectiles. The wolverine had completely forgot about it.

Abbess Fern shook her head. "No! We'd destroy are abbbey!"

Darkfang shrugged. "Ye'll kill a lot o' dose 'un's inside o' dere, an' get in de abbey. Nothin' ye can't fix."

The Abbess put her paw on the trebuchet. "This is a weapon of destruction. We could never use it."

Mudgell Wiltud walked up to her. "It's not so bad. They used somethin' like this to take- hey where's the satchel of berries I'd gather go?"

Borgy looked side to side, then called, "It's that fox! He's getting away!"

The Wiltud's started running wildly into the forest. Abbess Fern bit her lip and a tear fell down her face. She looked at the trebuchet. "What will I do?

ooooooooooooo

Darkfang the fox snickered after he had ran far enough and sat on the grass, chewing on a few berries. "Heehee! Ah, gud food, an' lots o' freedom, dat's de life fer me! Mebbe I can hike all de way to Silvertung an' tell 'im wot Beastcrusher's doin'! He'd probably make me cap'n! Yeah, Cap'n Darkfang! I like de soun' o' dat!"

In his ramblings, the fox failed to notice a large group of rats sneak up behind him.

"Painted Ones, attack!"

Redwall

Friar Durglo passed out plates with scones covered in jam and dollops of meadow cream to Griv Beastcrusher and his captains. While the wolverine hardly touched his food, his captains hungrily tore at the delicious scones. Captain-in-Chief Firak even almost said, "Thank you," to Friar Durglo, before being silenced by a glare from Griv.

The wolverine turned to the dormouse. "What is this?"

"Sc-scones, with pu-pu-pu-pumpkin spice an' strawberry jam an' meadow cream. M-my own re-re-recipe," squeaked the little fat friar.

Griv growled. "Where's the real food?"

"R-r-real food?"

"Some fish, or bird, or other meat."

Durglo bit his lip. "The p-p-pond is almost overfished. Y-you ate too much an' w-w-w-we nee' to give 'em time to repopulate. An' we didn't catch any birds, either. They're scared o' this place now."

Griv dropped his head to Durglo's face, his awful breath filling the poor dormouse's nostrils. He then looked to his captains. "Well, 'e says we can't get no fish or birds. But we can still get up a bit o' good red meat!"

The captains chuckled nervously. They quite liked Durglo's cooking, and didn't want to see the dormouse dead. Griv grinned and held up his huge and deadly claws above Durglo. The dormouse promptly fell to the floor and started whimpering.

"Err, sire," said Firak, trying to save the poor Friar's life. "Wot if we go on a big hunt, with half the horde. We can go an' fish in the rivers, shoot sum birds, an' the whole 'orde gets fed well. We might even find those woodlanders that escaped, and the horde is gettin' a little bored. The other half will just guard the abbey, like.

Griv sighed; his fun spoiled. Lowering his claws, he grumbled, "Ah, fine. Weaseltail, go and git half the horde. Two 'undred fifty, right?"

The stoat captain Weaseltail shook his head. "Nah, we lost two 'undred in the battle to get 'ere, so it's actually one 'undred."

Firak sighed. "One 'undred fifty, Weaseltail! But it doesn't matter, go!"

oooooooooooooo

"Bah, couldn't find dat fox anywhere!" called Borgy, returning to the Abbess and Mallow.

Mallow shrugged. "Good thing we didn't take him to Saint Ninian's. Ah well, where's Mudgell?"

As if on cue, the hedgehog dashed up to them. "The vermin are cummin'! Over five-score of 'em. Wot shood we do?"

"Dat fox, warned 'em, I'm sure of it," called Borgy.

Abbess frowned. "Maybe we could lay a trap. We know this country more than them."

Mudgell's distressed face. "Yew two git back to the church. The Wiltuds know Mossflower better than anyone, hoho, I feel bad fer dose vermin already!"

ooooooooooooo

Weaseltail the stoat was proud to be in charge of the hunting party. Coming to the River Moss, the vermin happily began fishing.

"Hey, I got one!" called a ferret.

"Me too! Cum 'ere, dis is a big fish!"

Amidst the vermin's jolliness, they failed to notice as the Wiltuds snuck past them, even when Borgy pulled some fur of the neck of a rat. Heading upstream, the hedgehogs got to their desired destination. It was a very old otter camp, with rotting wood and an ancient fire place. A message was scratched into a fallen tree. Welcome to Camp Willow!

The hedgehogs crept around the camp's remains to where a pair of sluicegates lay broken. Still, though. What it was holding, or holding its ancestors still lived in the area. It was a monster pike, bred from greatest of pikes. His shiny white razor teeth shone from his black hide.

The hedgehogs were a little nervous doing what they were doing. Biting his lip, Borgy pulled out the bit of fur he pulled off the rat and tossed it into the water. The pike's keen nose immediately picked up the scent and sped off into the water, intent on finding the rat.

ooooooooooooo

A ferret called Ragclaw laughed in joy as he got a bit on his line. He pulled it back and to his delight he found whatever he had caught was quite heavy. "Hey, mateys! Dis is gonna be a good one, I t'ink!"

There was a yelp as Ragclaw was pulled into the water. The vermin started laughing, until they saw red mist appear floated from the spot the ferret had fallen. A grim silence overtook them, until there was another cry as a stoat was pulled in.

The river erupted in chaos. The fishers immediately let go of their rods, and ran back, though some not in time. Two rats went down to the pikes killer teeth.

"Hey!" called Weaseltail. "Git back there! Ye 'ave weapons, don't ye?"

The vermin seemed to realize their situation. Holding his spear up, a weasel called Bludlug called, "Beastcrusher! Beastcrusher! Death and Bloodshed!"

Bludlug lead the charge as the vermin waded into the water, so he was the first to die. His footpaw was grabbed by the pike and he was pulled under screaming. The other vermin broke ranks and charged about madly in the water, some scrambling to get out, some hacking at the river's floor with their weapons, foolishly standing still.

Weaseltail growled. Grabbing a javelin from a rat, the stoat captain ran forward to where the last cry was heard. Holding the javelin up high, the pike leaped from the water and tore at his stomach, Weaseltail fell to the water, dead.

The air was littered with vermin cries as the pike set about them, killing its attackers as they tried to flee.

Back in the forest, the Wiltuds chuckled at the sounds. Mudgell said, "Wot a nice type, fer a pike. Good of him to eat dose vermin fer us."

"Aye," added Borgy. "I'm namin' 'im Razor Wiltud!"

"Yer not namin' 'im Razor Wiltud, 'coz I'm namin' 'im Sharkscale Wiltud!"

"No, ye ain't! 'Is name is Razor!"

"Sharkscales!"

"Razor!"

And so it went, as Wiltuds bicker like Dibbuns over food.