Redwall

Captain-in-Chief Firak, who had once admired his fearsome leader, now despised him. But the stoat was a clever one, despite his rough exterior, and knew he had to play his cards well.

The late evening was dimly illuminated by the setting sun as Griv Beastcrusher walked into the abbey. The wolverine had had his dinner, a sparrow the vermin had shot from the roof. It was small, but the wolverine could last until a late supper, and he planned on taking a nap.

"Welcome, your mightiness," said Firak, leading Griv to the great hall. "'Tis been a hard day, would you like to take a rest? Me and the other captains have a bed set up in the great hall."

Griv smiled, this way he didn't have to order them to do what they had already done. "Good, my chief advisor. Lead me."

The bed was made of four beds they harvested from the dorms, covered in cushions and a pillows, the wolverine contently lied down.

Griv was not a soft one, but he had always enjoyed comfort, and the warlord was tired. And as they say, music tames the wild beast, and Griv Beastcrusher was no exception. weasel Captain Gorbac had a deep baritone voice and a harp, which he was passably good at. He sang a lullaby that had passed from Griv's ancestors in the Land of Ice and Snow to them.

"The Warlord is mighty and strong,

His horde is proud and powerful,

But when the day is done and the enemies dead,

We must rest in the domain of dreams..."

The versus went on like this, and Griv's eyes closed and his head drooped. Firak waved his paws, urgently whispering, "Positions!"

Captain Bludtail quietly drew his deadly curved sword and crept up behind the bed, hovering over the wolverine. Just in case the sword failed, two captains, Rugfur and Ragsnout, held up a mighty yew crossbow. A fantastic ferret bowbeast, Captain Dedmark Valldun pulled a long arrow nearly the size of a spear out, tipped with goose feather and fine sharp flint and an elm shaft. Taking careful aim, his keen eyes found the side of the Warlord's body; the arrow would pierce right through him.

"...But all the great ones must go,

On to the dreaded gates,

shrouded in mist and cries yell behind,

Prepare great Warlord, for the-"

"I got some- oh my."

A delicious aroma filled the room as Friar Durglo pushed a kitchen trolley into the room, on it was a perfectly roasted pheasant with herbs and plants, with a lemon drizzle and so on. The dormouse stood in shock watching the vermin in the middle of their plot to kill their warlord.

The wolverine snapped up, "Huh? What? Meat!"

Bludtail clumsily tried to put his sword away, but it fell to the floor with a clatter. The weasel hastily dropped to all fours and grabbed the sword and sheathed it. Ragsnout hastily cut the string of the bow, while Rugfur hurried it away to the corner of the room, followed by Dedmark who put the spear-like arrow with it. Firak sighed and slapped his forehead with his paws.

Griv got up and walked up and inspected the bird. "Wot's this, dormouse?"

Durglo, who was looking behind Griv as the captains were cleaning up their scheme, said, "Err, umm, w-w-w-well, s-some of y-y-your v-v-v-v-vermin caught it f-flying over the a-abbey, a y-young o-one, err, r-r-reckless, b-but that m-means the m-meat is t-t-t-tender."

The wolverine ripped part of the bird out and ate it. "Pheasants make good eating, come on, my captains!"

The vermin shakily walked over and half-heartedly enjoyed the meal, meanwhile their leader was blissfully eating, completely oblivious that the friar had just saved his life.

Mossflower Woods

"Heehee! Whew!"

Abbess Fern watched the two hedgehogs, Borgy and Mudgell, laughing as they returned for supper.

The old cellarhog, Corbo frowned at the young Wiltuds bounding up the path to Saint Ninian's. "Young rips, that's the problem with Wiltuds, 'cept your family, o' course, Mallow."

However, this time, the Wiltuds' joy was well founded. "Abbess, Abbess, guess wot?" said Borgy, like an excited Dibbun.

"What?" asked Fern.

Mudgell sniggered. "Heehee! We were on the river, lookin' at Sharkrazor, when we hear this."

Borgy held his head back and crowed, "Logalogalogalogalog!"

Mudgell smiled. "The shrews! They'll 'elp us, actual fighters, they are!"

Most Redwallers did not understand Borgy's warcry, but they were exceedingly happy to hear Mudgell's statement. Soon even Cellarhog Corbo was laughing with joy.

ooooooooooooo

"Logalogalogalogalogalogalog!"

Ten logboats filled with shrews were sailing upstream (as it was a dry summer) the River Moss. The shrews were small, with spiked fur, head bands and beards.

"Log a Log Dando! Good to see ye!" called out Borgy Wiltud.

Log a Log Dando was the shrew with the biggest beard, biggest stomach, and biggest smile. "Well, well. If it isn't Borgy Wiltud! And ye brought yer friends with ye! Roggo, cast anchor, an' the rest o' yew logboats, too!"

The "anchors" were just medium-sized boulders tied to ropes the shrews threw over board to hold their boats in place. Laughing and arguing, the shrews got off their boats and onto dry land.

Dando bounded to the ragtag group of woodlanders. "Well, yer Redwallers, least o' all most o' yew! Who's yer Abbot, or Abbess, I got that right, correct?" he asked the last question to an otterbabe called Barakar, who looked up at the Log a Log in awe. The Dibbun slowly nodded his head.

"Good! So, who is it, and wot's yer situation!"

Abbess Fern steeped forward. "I'm the Abbess, my name is Fern. Our Abbey has been... overrun... by vermin!"

"An' ye want us to 'elp ye, no doubt?"

The Abbess nodded vigorously.

The shrew put on a gruff demeanor. "Well, then ye'll need to pay the price! Us Guosim, Guerilla Union of Shrews in Mossflower, we don't come free ye know."

"Then what would you like?" asked the abbess.

"We demand... beast sacrifice!"

All the shrews, along with Borgy and Mudgell, immediately burst out laughing. However, the Redwallers looked horrified.

When Dando saw their faces, he said, "Oh, sorry! 'Twas just a joke! We'll 'elp ye! All o' our ancestors 'ave 'elped Redwallers, an' we're no exception!"