Ok ya'll, I wanted to try something new with this. You don't really need to read this it's me talking about my story and disclaimer thing, so you can skip it. Go ahead cause it's long I guess. It's mostly setting up the story. Background stuff ya know.

The plot is based on the book, Mossflower, of the Redwall Series written by Brian Jacques. The beginning is a lot like the story but don't worry, its gonna get really different in the next ch or 2.

If ya haven't read any of the books, all the characters are animals like ferrets, mice. blah.

I put Buffy characters in their place so now their all magic-y and stuff.

Buffy isn't the slayer, Spike's not a vampire. All the rest of the BtVS characters are either magical or I'll tell ya otherwise in the story.

Some of the conversations have been taken from the book, MossflowerIf so, They've been changed to fit the new characters BUT I am NOT calling them my own. Witness me now! The conversations help you understand so. ya. They aren't mine I tell ya. Oz's little story is directly from the book too.

Tsarmina (zar-ME-na)- Name taken from Mossflower.

Verdauga- see above!

Mossflower Woods- Name taken from the book is the name of the woods in my story too.

Kotir (ko-TEAR)- also taken from the story is the name of the fortress ruling the woods.

Corim- Last word I took, I promise! In later chapters I'm just gonna call it the council. you'll see.

I don't own Buffy the Vampire slayer, Joss W. does. And I don't own any Redwall Series stuff, Brian Jacques does. Ok tell me if this story is makin' sense in reviews!! Oh and I know what 'Aura' means but it sounds cool so that's why I used it, cause if I used Redwall like in the book, it'd just be to copy-cat-like. Thanks, Love ya! Cate.

NOTE: IT MAY SEEM LIKE IT, BUT CHARACTERS FROM THE BOOK THAT I DIDN'T CHANGE ARE NOT GONNA BE MAIN CHARACTERS, IT MAY SEEM LIKE IT IN THIS CHAPTER BUT THE STORYS GOIN PLACES! K? K. AND THERE MIGHT NOT BE MUCH DIALOGE NOW, BUT SOON.

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Fall breezes rustled the golden brown leaves around the yard and against the open porch of a warm little woodland cabin in the woods. Faith the Warrior wrapped the quilt tighter around herself eyeing the small boy who had crept up from the rest of the children in the yard to sit by her.

"Would you tell me a story, Miss Faith?"

The child made himself comfortable next to the aged warrior and willingly shared the woolen quilt with her. Faith nodded slowly.

"Long ago and before this place was built. Before Aura was built for us woodland warriors. In those times, the bad times, there was no freedom for our kind.

We were all under strict and cruel oppression of Verdauga and his daughter Tsarmina. It was William the Warrior who saved us, him along with my comrades and myself. But it was he who showed us the means, he who showed us how to come together.

It is a tale of love and war, friends and foes. Listen to me, child, and I will tell you the story."

..................................

Midwinter. The snow was already falling. Snow covered the frozen landscape, filling ditches, hiding the paths, thick sheets rested on the broad branches of the oaks in Mossflower. The leafless trees constantly showered with the flurries.

A well-built young man was moving confidently through the blizzard, trying his best to keep track of where he was going with his head bent down to protect his face from the stinging cold.

The warrior's heightened sense of smell led him to believe civilization was ahead. There was a smell of burning wood from several hearth fires.

The man lifted his head a little, shielding his azure eyes with his hand. Yes, civilization.

He had been traveling for months; of course he had seen dwellings of the people of the woods. But they were places wounded from poverty.

Small houses, looted by pirates and ravaged by thieves, stood demolished on the sides of many roads he had traveled. A long, weary journey.

The man bent his head once more, and steadily trudged onward. This was how William the Warrior first came to Kotir, place of the sinister, black magics.

..................................

South side of Kotir. The Summers family relaxed about their quaint little home. Two children crouched next to the fire, warming up from playing about outside in the new, fallen snow and rubbing their tear-stained faces.

They had been scolded by their mother. It's not safe to be outside.

A light scrape at the door caused them all to jump nervously. Hank Summers picked up an axe and motioned for his wife, Joyce Summers, to harbor the children into the far corner.

She did as she was told.

Hank called harshly, in his firmest voice. "Away with you. You have already taken half what we have to fill Kotir's royal food store. We have but a few stale loaves of bread and water!"

"Hank! It's Rupert. Do let me in, it's downright freezing out here."

Hank quickly pulled open the heavy door, allowing the snow-clad man to rush inside. He brushed himself off, and hugged the two little boys who came running to great him, each clinging one of his legs.

Both Hank and Joyce shot anxious looks at the man.

"Patrols are out." Rupert Giles answered their looks with a grim façade. "I'm telling you, you need to get out of this place."

Hank threw his axe down in anguish. "What do you expect us to do? We have two children here that couldn't make the trip to wherever the hell your trying to get us to run to, not until mid spring at least."

He shot an exasperated look first to his friend, then to his wife.

Giles produced a piece of yellowed parchment from his pocket. "Elizabeth and Dawn made a wise decision to leave."

"They're a different story. They had good reasons. strong." With that Hank dropped the subject of his daughter. He looked expectantly at Giles.

He handed the paper to Hank.

One word: Corim, was scribbled on it with thick charcoal lines. Underneath was a detailed map of the place. It was far from Kotir.

Frustration showed on Hank's features, torn between escape and his family's impediment. But there was a chance.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Mercenaries! "You there! You open this door in the name of King Verdauga this is an official Kotir Patrol! Get this door open!" Came a harsh, raspy voice from outside.

Hank handed the map to his wife, who took one last glance at it before tossing it to the fire and moving to guard her two boys. Hank went to unlatch the door.

Five strong men dressed in animal pelts, most likely deerskins, pushed their way into the room, shoving Hank aside. A tall, heavy, black haired man named Angel and a slightly shorter, brown haired man called Riley seemed to be in charge; They were the first ones in the door.

"Show us where you're hiding your food." Angel ordered curtly.

Hank couldn't hide the pure hatred in his voice. "Only a few oven loaves, in the cupboard to you right." He gestured towards the small kitchen where the cupboard was clearly visible.

"You will retrieve them and hand them to Riley, here."

Giles, Joyce, and the children looked on as Hank clenched his hands into tight, white fists. He stalked into the small kitchen and came back out with three loaves in his hands. His face held no emotion, but his eyes spoke novels. Mostly German obscenities.

One of the two boys began sobbing quietly.

"That's it." Hank ground out.

Riley took the loaves and placed them into his shoulder bag and eyed him suspiciously.

"He's telling the truth. Hurry now." Angel waved his spear, gesturing for his patrol to exit. Before leaving he called, "I want to see those two out in the fields tomorrow, they're old enough to work. Or else you'll find you and yours down in the Kotir dungeons for the rest of the season." With that he slammed the door.

Hank was fuming; Joyce put a comforting hand on his shoulder before tending to her crying child.

Giles walked to the window, intending to watch the patrol's retreating form until they were out of sight.

Hank wasted no time. He began gathering every blanket they owned, wrapping his two children in them.

"We leave tonight. You were right, Rupert. We should've left at the start of this." Hank set about collecting the food hidden under the floorboards and shoving them into a bag.

"Oi, look at this!" Giles called excitedly with his face pressed against the cold glass of the window. While Hank shared the window with his friend, Joyce continued gathering belongings.

"What is it? They're not coming back now are they, Hank?" Joyce fretfully began packing faster. Fine lines of worry creased her forehead.

"No, Joyce." He laughed with a cheeky grin in place. "Lookit that! Landed a punch right on his nose, he did!"

Cole, who had finally stopped sobbing, scurried over to his father and tugged on his sleeve. "What's happenin' Papa? Who got punched?"

Hank couldn't catch his breath, he was laughing so hard. He just turned back around to look out the window.

Giles described the scene as he saw it. "It's a man, blonde hair. He's rather short, maybe 5'11. He's attacking the patrol. he's strong. They're trying to capture him-whoa, would ya lookit that! He just backhanded Isaac 'n sent him sprawlin' into a tree!

Shame, Riley's taken his sword into his bag. Ouch, he just sent him flying on his back with a kick! He'd do some real damage with that blade.

Cole began jumping up and down excitedly. "Let me see! I want to see!"

Both Hank and Giles turned from the window. "Wouldn't do no use, son. They were too many. It was five to one. They got 'em down on the ground, aye and tied 'em up as well."

Hank took one last glance out the window and then at his crestfallen son.

"While they're distracted! Hurry, we need to get out while they got a job to do, takin' that warrior back to the castle."

A short while later, Hank, Joyce, Cole, and Zach Summers and their dear friend Mr. Giles had their heads bent against the steady wind and snow. Having left the fire smoldering to embers in a newly empty house, they trudged through Mossflower Wood in search of Corim.

..................................

Oz the thief padded along the dark passages of the Kotir larder. He chuckled to himself as he grabbed as much food as he could possibly fit into his knapsack. Clad in a green Robin Hood style jerkin and black slacks, he was a master of mimic, writer, singer, and a damn good lock pick.

At the sound of heavy footsteps, Oz fell silent and melted into the shadows, creeping behind a crate of wheat and not daring to breathe.

Two guards, clothed in chain mail and body armor with the royal seal embedded into the steal, complete with sharp tipped spears descended down the stairs into the larder. They were arguing.

"Look, YOU'RE the one who holds the key, my friend." His voice was full of malice and blame.

"Of course, The King wouldn't trust anyone else with it! Besides, YOU are down here whenever I am." The other retorted in just the same tone.

"I only 'cause to keep an eye on you, sir!"

"Well, I only come down to keep an eye on YOU."

"Listen, I'm sure as hell not taking the blame for your greediness!"

"Me? Stealing from the larder? I am no thief."

It took all of Oz's energy to keep from giggling at the two's petty banter. The two guards stopped.

"D'you heard that?" One of them asked.

"What? You laughin' at me? Yeah, ha bloody ha." The guard turned his back to his attendant.

Oz called out a few obscenities, mimicking one of the guard's voices.

Immediately, they turned on each other. Fighting tooth and nail. "Take that!" "Ouch, you Son of a.OW" "You little..." "You bit me?" The two striked madly at each other with their spear butts, providing the perfect distraction.

Oz slipped out of hiding, exiting in the opposite direction and leaving the two guards still fighting hand to hand, spears forgotten they resorted to biting again.

Sheathing a small dagger from his boot, Oz unlatched a window and hopped out, darting through the snow to the woodlands.

..................................

William dug his boots into the snow-covered ground, skidding across it as he was dragged across the grounds of. as far as he could tell, a very large castle by the five creatures that had attacked him only an hour ago.

He closed his eyes at the offending torches, seemed like everyone that carried one decided it'd be fun to thrust it towards him at the same time.

Armor clanked all around him, nothing touched him though. He opened his eyes. The armored soldiers wouldn't come within two feet of him.

He smirked to himself. Hey, at least it was a good first impression.

Angel and Riley slammed the gate's doors closed. Someone called out to Angel, "Oi, Isaac! Ya seen tha good doc yat?"

"Huh? Oh, the gypsy? Nah. nothin'. They're gonna be pissed she's late, he ain't getting' any better. Caught this though." Angel gestured towards William with the sword he had purloined from the traveler.

"Had this on 'em, did he? Nice weapon." The man who had asked Angel about the gypsy fell into step with him, William, and Riley as they continued to the castle. He expertly waved the sword aloft and stopped it an inch from William's neck.

William let out a growl. But realized his predicament and turned his gaze into the first room they walked into.

The walls were slate gray and cold, wet-cold. There were just as many soldiers walking about inside the castle as there were on the ground.

They kept walking.

Ah, a door. The door to one particular hall proved almost impossible. William managed to grab the corner of the door. The soldiers of the patrol practically had to pry his hands away with their spears.

Riley laughed at his companions' attempts with the feisty traveler. He was glad he was in charge of the bread headed directly to the larder. Soldiers passing him in the hall eyed him hungrily; it had been a hard winter.

Most of Kotir's residents fled the settlement the last year because of the King's illness, therefore less tax collected.

As he descended, the hall became colder, draftier. He passed charred black marks on the walls from the fires set there by the soldiers. Only captains of high rank were allowed to wear cloaks, soldiers made the best of what they had.

Riley gripped his cloak tighter.

He hurried now; he was close to the larder. He came to the end of the narrow passage and rapped three times on the door. He heard the tiny click of the lock as the key turned in it.

He entered to find the two guards who had been fighting earlier sitting on barrels of potatoes.

"That all you got? Who sent them with ya?" They stood up.

"Angel, he didn't count them." Riler grinned.

They each took a loaf and tore hungrily at it.

..................................

Back upstairs. William had managed to wrap one of the ropes securing him around a stone pillar. A group of soldiers laughed at the patrol trying to get him under control. "Come on lads, put your back into it!" "Don't be scared of 'em!" "Bloody poofters, he's just a traveler!"

Angel lost his temper. "Do any of you lot want to have a go at 'em?" No answer. "Didn't think so." He glared.

Double doors behind them burst open, snow flurries billowing in as a small feminine figure walked in briskly. She was dressed in a gauzy red material ala Jasmine from Aladdin with gold trim.

The mocking group found a new target. "Ooh ooh ooh. Somebody better keep outta Lady Tsarmina's way!" "Just you wait Gypsy, you're late."

The girl hissed at them but continued towards the stairs.

William attempted a mad dash towards the half open doors but was dragged down by the force of numbers pulling him down to the floor again. He was restrained by more rope, cutting into the circulation of his hands.

The group found it a perfect situation to make fun of once more. A particularly large, bulky guard who had walked into the door right after Amy, the gypsy, had cleared his throat and attempted to silence them with a piercing glare.

Riley scoffed. "Discipline's gone to hell ever since King Verdauga's been ill."

..................................

Amy waited. She began pacing outside the doors to Verdauga's chamber. Presently, two guards sporting chain mail and spears nodded for her to follow them.

They halted in front of an immense pair of wooden doors that opened when the guards banged their spear butts against them three times.

The doors closed, leaving the guards to stay outside. She walked in alone. Candles illuminated the room but only barely.

She could make out three chairs on one side of the room. Two females and a male. The chairs were set to the left of a large bed draped in blood red velvet drapes, shielding the occupant from view.

The younger of the two girls strode over towards Amy. She had long, curly black hair but it was held up with a shiny black clip. She wore a dark plum colored dress that dragged on the stone floor of the chamber.

She cringed. The girl, Drusilla, snatched the leather satchel from Amy's shoulder. With an expert flick of her wrist, the contents were on the table.

Drusilla looked over them. Just a mess of roots, mosses, herbs, leaves, crystals. The usuals a gypsy carried.

She allowed Amy to approach the bed. All this was done without a word.

The other girl rose from her seat and stalked towards Amy, wearing the same blood red color as herself. Her had long, wavy black hair fell loose against her back.

"Milady Tsarmina." She greeted, bowing her head graciously.

"The healer is here? Pull back these curtains, I do not wish to be hid." The loud voice echoed off the walls of the chamber. It sent a chill down everyone's spine.

Drusilla obeyed her father's request, pulling back the curtains in one fluid motion.

Amy stepped to the side of the bed to inspect her patient. Once a strong, proud man; a fierce warrior. Now he was but a shell of a man. Weathered not with age, but with something else.

Amy eyed the savage battle scars on his face before returning to the table for ingredients.

"My Lord is feeling better, yes?" she began.

All she received was a glare and a forced grunt.

The male, rose from his chair as well, a look of pure concern crossed his face. "Father, she only means to help you." He furrowed his eyebrows and attempted a comforting smile.

Tsarmina scoffed at her brother. "Oh, shut up you insane piece of."

"Tsarmina!" She turned to look at her father as he began to cough from the force of the roar.

He recovered. "Tsarmina do not talk to your brother like that." He told his willful daughter. "And Gingivere, do not take that from her. Stand up to her, son." He softened his tone a little for him.

"Take this." Amy had been finished grounding the herbs and roots with a pestle for quite some time; she didn't wish to interrupt another of the 'family moments'.

Verdauga eyed the gypsy suspiciously. "What is it?"

"It is but a simple potion made from mugwort, orris root powder, marjoram, and aniseed to help you. sleep. Gingivere could you give this to you father, please?"

Nobody noticed the devious look or the wink that passed between Tsarmina and Amy.

..................................

Hank nearly pissed his pants when Oz jumped out from behind a snow-covered bush on the path he and his family had been traveling on.

"Boo! Hank me ole' mate, if you coulda seen your face just then, prices less! Anyways, what are you doing trudging through the forest this time a night?"

Hank swiftly composed himself. "Oz, how you doin' my lad? Me and mine are on out way to Corim, finally left the settlement, ya know."

Oz shook hands with Giles and kissed Joyce's civilly. "Ah, I can get ya there in no time at all!"

He skipped ahead of the adults to walk with the children. "Hello Mr. Oz." They'd say, but then they'd start the questions. Of course, he didn't mind at all.

"Is Corim a nice place?" Cole asked, looking up at the red-haired man as the little band stopped to set up camp for the night. Hank and Giles began to start a fire.

"Oh, its beautiful and it's safe there. Better than that place you were in."

Zach asked as well. "Is it far, Mr. Oz?"

"Not very."

They soon pummeled him.

"What makes Corim so safe?" "What's in your knapsack, Mr. Oz?" "Have you been stealing from Kotir again, Mr. Oz?" "Whatdya pinch this time?" "Aren't we there yet?" "What kinds of people live at Corim?"

Oz smiled at the two and patted their heads. "You two get some sleep. Long day tomorrow."

He went to sit with Joyce, Giles, and Hank around the fire. They each sat on a stump, gazing into the flames. Joyce finally spoke up. "How we're ever going to get out land back against all those trained soldiers is a mystery to me." She let out an almost inaudible sigh.

"Hey now, Mrs. Joyce. You remember the Corim rule; bide your time and don't let 'em catch you. Someday we'll win old Mossflower back." Oz reassured.

"Fine words." Giles raised his glass to Hanks. They each took a drought from their glass.

Oz topped them off.

"I'll tell ya this much, mates. The day will come when something will happen, something to change all this. Someone that who's strong and isn't afraid will come. And when that day arrives, we'll be ready. Corim will be ready."

"A hero eh, Oz? Thought I saw one 'o them right out my window earlier tonight. Alas, probably in the Kotir dungeons by now or worse, dead. Poor soul." Hank yawned, stretching and popping his back.

"I say we get some sleep. I am tuckered out." Giles was the first to get up, the rest followed his example and they were eventually taken over by sleep.

..................................

It was sunny today. The rays made the gurgling steam sparkle with radiance. Spring flowers were finally blooming in yellows, pinks, and blues. Warm breezes were melting the already slushy snow. Evergreens that had endured the winter season took on a fresh new color.

Oz was whistling a tune, returning from one more successful trip to the Kotir larder. Made it about forty times now. He smiled to himself.

Finding a perfect spot, he threw himself into a thick pad of grass, lying with his arms behind his head. The sky was a perfect sapphire with white puffs of clouds floating about.

He lay dreamily, thinking of the shapes the clouds reminded him of. Horses, pies, people he knew, Kotir soldiers, fruit. Wait. Uh oh.

He'd noticed the two soldiers just a little too late. The larger of the two jabbed him with the butt of his spear. "Up on your feet. You're wanted at Kotir."

"Ya don't say. What ever for?" Oz cheekily replied presenting the two with a grin. A spear point to his throat discouraged further banter.

The other soldier kicked Oz. "Get up you damn thief. You'll pay for stealing from Kotir."

Oz smirked. "Oh, no no. You've got it all wrong. The head cook is one of my dear, dear friends. He has given me permission to borrow what I please form his store." He said with a quality of innocence in his eyes and tone of voice.

He was a great actor. Unfortunately, the soldiers didn't seem to think so.

The larger soldering laughed heartily. "The head cook," He choked out, " The head cook has vowed to torture, maul, skin you with a blunt knife, and roast what's left of you and serve you for supper!"

Oz nodded. Deadpanned, "Oh, yum. I do hope he saves some for me. OW"

With two spears digging a little into the skin of his neck, the three marched on in the direction of Kotir Castle.

..................................

The rope had been replaced with chains. Unfortunately, they were strong chains. He fought not just to piss off the two holding him, he wanted out. He was prisoner. And he guessed he was going into a cell, he ended up in a bedroom.

William dodged their blows easily, they were slowed by the heavy chain mail and armor. He socked the one of the left and let the rope go slack. When they returned for an attack, he dashed forward smacking the two into each other leaving them dazed long enough to.

Get crushed by a fellow guard who had heard the yells. Holy crap, this guy was huge.

The three managed to pin him down by them each sitting on an arm of a leg. It was a most comical sight. The royals looked on from the other side of the room. Oh yeah, bloody hilarious. An old man sitting on the bed spoke up first.

William's eyes flashed bold defiance.

"And what have we got here?"

The fat soldier replied with a pudgy grin and freed his hand from William's shoulder in a quick salute, putting it back down immediately. "Found him inside out boundaries. He's a stranger here, and he was armed."

The smallest soldier sitting on William got up, bowed, and placed the sword in Verdauga's hands.

"You know. It is against my law to carry arms on my realm."

William struggled, and managed to buck his captors of him. Allowing him to stand up. "I didn't know you owned the place, mate. Tell your little pals to get their hands off me and let me go. Wasn't born here, was born free."

Lord Verdauga couldn't help admiring the courage of this man. He was a real warrior. He was just about to speak when Tsarmina snatched the sword from his hands and pointed it at William's throat. "Name. Where'd you get this sword?" She growled menacingly. Her eyes flashed black for a second; he dismissed it as his own imagination.

The soldiers had to pin him down again, but it didn't hide the hatred in his voice.

"My name is William the Warrior. That sword was once my father's. He has passed it down to me, as I will to my son. Is this the way to welcome travelers to your land?"

Tsarmina forced his head back with the blade's point. "You have a lot of nerve talking to me like that." She hovered her hand over his head, closing her eyes. "Your strong, but magically so. You have too much to say to your betters, boy." She snarled, returning her hand to her side.

"Everything you can see out these castle walls belongs to us by conquest and birth right. What his law says goes. Breaking one. the penalty is death.

"Guards, execute him." She beckoned the three soldiers who had pinned William earlier.

Her father's voice rang out from behind Tsarmina. "Gingivere, have you nothing to say? What do you propose we should do with the boy?" His eyes sparkled.

"Well, because he is a stranger, he had no knowledge of our laws. He is not to blame for trespassing with arms." Gingivere replied.

"And what do you propose we do about that?" Lord Verdauga asked.

"It would be unjust to punish him for his ignorance. If it were up to me, I'd have him escorted off the premises and give him back his weapon. He'd know better than to come back again."

He was proud of his son's answer. "Now I will give you my decision. I have a headstrong daughter but her decision depicts us as cowards for slaying someone for such little reason. On the other hand with my loving son, letting him free would show weakness.

My decision is to put in the cells for a while, to calm down. After a time, he may be set free, never to trespass on my domain again."

Crack! They all heard it.

Tsarmina, furious at being overruled, had threw the sword against her knee, breaking the blade in half and leaving her to hold the shorn-off handle.

She smirked, tossing it to a guard. "You her my father. Take him to the dungeons. Tie this around his neck, if we ever let him go the others will know just how merciful we are."

The guards began pulling at William's chains, but he stood still, defying them. His and Tsarmina's eyes met in a glare.

"Your father's decision was a just one." Pause. "But your was right." He whispered harshly and the guards began to get the upper hand and started dragging him out of the room.

He called, "You should have killed me when you had the chance! I swear that one day I will kill you." With that he was hauled out of sight.

Lord Verdauga coughed painfully and laid back into his pillows.

His death threat not fazing her at all, Tsarmina beckoned for her servant girl, Drusilla to retrieve Amy.

"That boy has a fighter's heart, saw it in his eyes." He coughed.

Tsarmina called again. The girl rushed in with another dose of the sleeping potion.

"Gingivere, give this to father, you're the only one he'll take it from."

Tsarmina nodded towards Amy and they left the room together for the hall. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Well, did you fix the medicine?" Amy looked at the princess with a sly smile.

"Twice. Once before the boy came in, and once just before I came in. He's had enough to knock out half the barracks."

She pulled the gypsy close to her face menacingly. "Alright, but if he is still breathing in the morning, you might as well just throw yourself out that window right there. It'd be a lot easier than facing me."

..................................

Deep beneath Kotir, William lay on his stomach face down in his dank, dirty cell, where he had been thrown by the three guards that dragged him down there. William had kicked and fought all the way down, making it as had as possible to finish their task and royally pissing them off.

One open place in the ceiling allowed a stream of light to filter in, but only one. It wasn't much but it allowed him to take in his surroundings.

It looked like any other cell, four walls and little or nothing else. One wall had a heavy steal door. Locked and was slid to the side to open, leaving a foot of it hidden in a gap in the floor. That ruled out breaking the thing down.

More light fled into the room, the guards were hanging torched on the walls near the end of the dungeon corridor. A rush of cold, wet air hit him.

He was left alone, alone in a strange place. A Prisoner. He decided to sleep.

William woke to the sound of shuffling near his cell. Guards, he figured. He didn't move just yet, he kept his eyes shut and laid still.

There it was, the click of the lock. He waited until he could feel them close enough for a surprise attack.

Jumping to his feet in a fighting pose, all he saw was a closing door. He relaxed and noted that they'd left a stale chunk of bread and some water. They'd also tossed in some dry straw for a makeshift bed.

He felt around to see if they'd left anything else in the shadows. He hand came across something cold and hard. Curiously, he picked up the object and brought it to the light from the grille in the ceiling.

It was his sword's handle, still with its slightly tarnished decoration and his father's name engraved on one side.

William gathered some of the straw together up and settled down, leaning his back against the wall, he started munching the bread. This time he sat a little closer to the door; he'd be ready for them next time.

He was about to fall asleep when the sound of screaming and cries came from the corridor. He rose and peered through the small grill in the door, trying to figure out what was going on.

"My Lord Verdauga is dead!"

"Poison! Prince Gingivere is a murderer! Murder, murder!"

"My father is slain!" Tsarmina's voice could be heard above all the others. Suddenly it sounded like a mob had begun bounding down the stairs. Clanking of chain mail, armor, and boots. The soldiers were coming.

William couldn't clearly see what was happening, he pulled his face to on side of the grille and observed the scene.

Tsarmina led the group, a stern look on her face. She was followed by at least a dozen guards each with their own sword and spear and each yelling out there own angry comments and obscenities. Gingivere came next, the man he'd seen earlier in the King's chamber room.

He was in chains, his head bent towards the ground. A growl could have been heard from him a mile away and blood trickled from a new cut on his shoulder.

Their eyes met only for a second, they seemed gentle. apologetic? Before any more examination for occur, Gingivere was prodded past William's cell by spear point.

The mob was out of sight, due to limitations on the grille in his door. He relied on his other senses. A cell opened somewhere far down the corridor, he heard the faint echo of the squeak of the handle and click of the lock opening. Then, Tsarmina's voice rang above all the others.

"Silence! I will say what is to be done. Yes, my dear brother is a murderer, but I cannot find it in my heart to harm him.

He will live out his days here in the dungeons. Never do I want to hear his name uttered within the walls of Kotir, he is now dead to me. I have no brother."

The mob quieted down, allowing a new chant led by Amy and Drusilla. "Long live Queen Tsarmina!"

The mob left back in the direction they came with Tsarmina ordering for a feast in their 'new Queen's honor.'

Resounding cheers from the throng faded into faint echoes and William curled up in the straw against the wall, drawing his knees to his chest and sighed.

Now that his only hopes of getting out were shattered, it was going to be a long, long winter.

..................................

He was bored. It had been almost three months judging by the thin stream of light that fled into the cramped cell and the amount of times he had been fed. He began running the sword handle against the metal bars of the door.

Quickly tiring of trying to get a ruse out of the guards, he initiated pacing once more.

That was his new hobby, he thought. Pissing off the guards. He had tried, earlier that day, to talk to Gingivere from his cell. Of course, he had to have yelled or else the man wouldn't have heard him; he was maybe twenty cells down.

Gingivere wasn't the only one who heard his calls. The man tried to answer but William was a little preoccupied with the sentry who had arrived to beat him for saying the former prince's forbidden name and apparently waking him up from a nap.

Twelve paces. It always took twelve steps to get anywhere in the cell. Twelve paces wall to wall, wall to door. William sighed and sat down on the floor where the telltale sunlight streamed in.

Lost in thought, William failed to notice the approaching guards. This time, someone else was with him.

William unconsciously heard the door open, thinking it was mealtime he ignored it. Hearing the conversation he decided otherwise and began walking towards the door.

"It'll be easier to feed the two at once. Throw the little bastard in there with the other wretch. OW!"

"Hurry up with tha damn door, Nathaniel! The buggers going to tear my arm off."

There was even more shouting and struggling hear from outside the door until her heard the tiny click of the lack.

Suddenly he was knocked onto his back, the wind knocked out of him. He and the thing that had been thrown into him laid still until they knew they weren't going to kill each other.

William grabbed his cellmate and shoved him into the stream of light to see him. Oz held out his hand in greeting.

"My name's William the Warrior, yours?"

"Oz." He said simply.

"Doesn't matter who you are, mate s'long as I have someone to talk to down here. What did you do to get thrown in here with the likes of me?"

"I'll only tell. if you'd refrain from breaking my hand, Will." Oz gasped a little. "Dunno your own strength, huh?" He chuckled a little, massaging his hand.

"Sorry, guess not."

"Well me, I stole from the larder. Many times actually, finally caught me, my fault. I wasn't paying attention. You?"

"Apparently they don't like people who carry swords here."

"S'ok stranger, I can pick any lock here in Kotir. We'll be out in no time. Just need for everything to get organized. You need food first." Oz took off his knapsack and produced three croissants and a jug of orange juice.

William ate gratefully; they had stopped his food supply ever since the attempted talk with Gingivere as punishment.

"So you can get us out of here? As in, how soon and where to? I'm not exactly attached to this place." William asked between swallows of the juice.

"I'll explain later, you'll see. We just need to wait."

"Then what have I walked into here, Oz? I'm just a traveler; don't know anything about this Mossflower place or that Tsarmina bint and her pallies."

Hmm. "Mossflower wasn't always like this, mate." Oz started grimly. "Since long before I was born, Verdauga had ruled over Mossflower. One day, he just swept right in here at the head of his army. Came down from the north, the fortress here is probably what attracted them. To the woodlanders here, nothing but a ruin that was just. there. Verdauga saw it differently, a place of plenty to be settled and farmed. He moved right in, called it Kotir, and set himself up as a tyrant."

"Why didn't anyone fight back?" William butted in.

"Oh, some fought back alright. The elderly who witnessed it are still too devastated to say how Verdauga and his cruel daughter defeated the rebellions.

If you weren't slaughtered on sight, you were thrown in the dungeons to rot. The man proved what a clever general he was when the rebellion broke.

He allowed the people to live in his shadow, farming the land and taking half as tax. Said he'd protect them from marauders and such, he did.

With most of the real fighters out of the way, he had a pretty sweet set up. But then, last summer, Verdauga became ill, left the throne to Tsarmina mostly.

The fields were driven too hard, and the people weren't given enough to live on. Most of the produce was taken to fill Kotir's larders.

Things got so bad; people started escaping from the settlement. Numbers declined, Tsarmina demanded more. I tell you, mate, it's a sad tale."

William passed the jug of juice to Oz. "Know anything about Gingivere?"

Oz took a swig of the juice and laid it on the floor between them. "Know he never, ever took part in any killing. Sweet, gentle, kind.

The woodlanders always hoped he'd be the next in line from the throne, but while I've been visiting here gossip gets around. They say Verdauga's dead, and Gingivere's imprisoned here leaving Tsarmina to rule."

"Sorry to say the gossip's true, Oz. Saw it myself, he's down the hall form here." William gave a tired gesture with his hand. "You can try and talk to him but only if you want to get severely beaten by a guard."

He punched the wall in frustration; the stone gave a sickening crack and he felt it crumble into little splintery spikes falling to the floor.

"Somebody should do something."

"Calm down there, Spike. Now that the last families have left the settlement, we ARE doing something.

Woodlanders, warriors of Mossflower. we're banding together and training. Together we're the Council of Resistance in Mossflower- Corim, see?

Take the first letter of each word and ya got Corim. Bloody stupid if you ask me, a friend of mine did that, Xander. The rest of us just call it the council."

"Didn't want to interrupt but. Spike?"

"It suits you."

"I like it." Spike chuckled. "So you think the Council will help us out of here?"

"Of course, just need a little time. In the meanwhile, I've been boring you with my stories what about yours? Why do they call you a warrior? Where'd you come from? Did you like it there?" Oz changed the subject.

"Where I come from was about as pretty as this cell here, mate. It was bare, dry, and lots of rocks in the northlands. Lived there with my mother and da. She died of consumption a little after my twelfth birthday.

My father and I lived on. He had been teaching me to fight ever since I could stand up and hold a sword. I remember that one day he left to meet the pirates at the shore with the rest of the seasoned warriors.

The battle was supposed to end all pirates from coming back to our land. He said that if he didn't return by spring, I was go and do as I felt fit."

"I'm guessing he never came back, I'm sorry." Oz took another swig from the jug.

"Don't be. It was a long time ago and I'm over it but still. I defended our home on my own for what seemed like forever. It was one or two days until spring. and none of the warriors ever returned.

The rest of my village started calling me William the Warrior instead of Son of Rowland the Warrior.

Finally, there just wasn't a reason for stay and defending my home for just myself. Started marching south alone, ended up here."

"Well I'm glad you stopped here, mate. Wouldn't want to just sit here talking to myself. I'd go bloody insane." Oz smiled and slapped Spike on the back.

"Right, I'd sooner talk here with you than be out wandering around for who knows how long. Pals?"

"Pals."

At the exact same time that Spike and Oz were talking about the council, they were discussing them as well. Hank's new home was full to the brim with people of every backgrounds, all warming up next to the fire.

Giles, an exceptionally powerful warlock, presided over the meeting. Also present were the leaders of each section of artillery and fighting.

The little redhead named Willow was the leader of the witches specializing in protection. She wore a green bodice and a long green velvet skirt. Her short, chunky hair barely touched her shoulders and she put on a sweet little smile.

Lady Tara, sporting long blonde hair and a pink outfit similar to Willow's, was chief of the witches of defense.

Alexander the Great a.k.a. Xander was in charge of the humans. The dark haired boy had more power to him that he looked. Xander sat sideways on the chair, leaning his head on the table apparently waiting for the meeting to begin.

Faith was in charge of battle plans and attacks by sea. From the north, Faith the ex-pirate had changed her ways and became part of the council. Best friends with Elizabeth, the two worked out their differences and work together perfectly. They were the most able of the ground force; they would fight with their hands and weapons up close and personal with the enemy.

A little girl of maybe walked in from the kitchen with a tray of drinks and smiled at her friends. Dawn was the key, a mystical energy all wrapped up in a fleshy little package.

She knew she had power but rarely showed it, only if someone she loved was in danger. She had power much like a witch, and healing power much like her sister's, but a higher power ran through her and it did as it wished, using Dawn as its marionette. It didn't happen often and so she ignored it almost always.

Elizabeth the Warrior, the leader of ground force, sat in the chair next to Giles. Her gently curling blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail with a leather holder and she wore all light brown suede-looking material in the form of a loose, long-sleeved dress with a sash made of the same material only a little darker in color tied tightly around her waist.

Both Elizabeth and her sister Dawn wore the same white crystal necklace. It allowed them to contact or draw power from each other to heal. They were rarely used but hey, they looked ok.

That was it for the leaders. There were a few captains from the groups and friends: Lady Cordelia, Anya, and Lady Harmony. All three were powerful in their own way and helped the Council greatly.

Lady Cordelia was a master archer, Anya a quirky girl who harbored the power of fire and ice, and Harmony was a practicing witch. She was a great cook and specialized in potion making.

Seated in an armchair by the fire, Harmony answered the council's questions.

"Where did you see Oz captured?"

"Near a stream, Oak Brook. I had just crossed the stream and was already on top of a hill on the other side when I heard talking. I turned around and saw two guards with their spears pointed at Oz. "

"You sure they were Verdauga's soldiers?"

"Had the crest on their armor and everything. Heard them saying that they were taking him to Kotir."

"Well how the hell did Oz get captured? Didn't he see them coming?" Willow inquired incredulously. Elizabeth offered her friend a comforting look; she knew Willow had a soft spot for the guy.

"The usual, he made a big joke out of it, day dreamin' again."

Elizabeth took charge for a while. "Any suggestions?"

"If it were up to me, I'd leave the guy there for a while. That'd teach him a lesson."

"Don't talk like that! You know we'd all have gone hungry more than once if Oz hadn't gone to Kotir for food." Willow offered, defending her friend.

"Yeah, Oz is my kind of guy, a true friend. Light-hearted and fun." Xander offered.

"Yeah Cordelia, you know you'd miss him." Elizabeth looked over at the brunette archer with a mock disapproving glance and smiled. "We all would, and we need to stick together.

Cordelia stuck out her tongue playfully and laughed.

There were murmurs of agreements from the rest of the group in the living room as Hank and Joyce walked in with bowls of soup and rolls.

Dawn chose to break the silence. "Show of hands to rescue 'em!"

The vote was unanimous.
"Yeah Cordelia, you know you'd miss him." Elizabeth looked over at the brunette archer with a mock disapproving glance and smiled. "We all would, and we need to stick together.

Cordelia stuck out her tongue.

The group was still eating when Elizabeth and Xander had finished. They decided to take a walk with her two brothers.

Cole and Zach were running around in the front yard with makeshift capes made out of kitchen towels and sticks in hand. They were pretending to batte one another.

Elizabeth smiled and treated them with the respect she would if they were seasoned warriors looking to join their council.

"Let me see, sir." She put on an air of proper English. "You look strong, you'd make a good archer, you would." Elizabeth smiled as the little boy's eyes went wide with excitement.

"What do you think Xander? Think they'd be able?"

"Sure do! After some training, these two would be the cream of the crop."

"Thanks Buffy, Thanks Mr. Xander!" The two cried out and continued with their game. Elizabeth smiled at her brothers' nickname for her; it soon became her whole family's, that included the council.

Buffy and Xander retreated back into the house and buckled down to the Oz conversation again. For the rest of the night they planned his escape.

..................................

There was a slight tapping at the grille on the ceiling. Something fell from it into the cell and landed in the light from the torches of the corridor streaming into the cell through the grille in the door.

Spike stirred and saw the object, nudging Oz awake. He wiped at his eyes and looked indignantly at his new friend from waking him.

"That fell from the skylight up there."

Oz noticed the package and let out a yelp of joy. "The council knows we're here."

He took the package and unbound the paper from the pocketknife. He moved closer to the door for the light and read the message aloud

Oz

Your knife's enclosed.

Leave by the woodland side of Kotir.

We'll cover you from the forest.

Leave at dawn.

The Council

The word 'Corim' was still visible even from under the scratch marks that had crossed it out, and 'The Council' was written in a different handwriting next to it.

Oz let out a chuckle. "Don't know why they care so much."

"What? Why they care so much about you?"

"No, no. Why they care so much about the stupid name of our gang." Oz said between laughs as he opened the pocketknife and peered through the door grille. "How long do you think the guards will be asleep?"

"It's about five hours 'till dawn, I'd say that they'll be asleep until 2 hours after, when they bring the bread and water."

"Then that gives us time to rest. The council only knows about my being here, not you. Don't worry we'll sort it out. They'd love to get their hands on another real warrior."

..................................

Willow, Tara, Faith, and Buffy giggled at the sight in front of them. Cole and Zach were still sporting their 'capes' and were helping them load the wagon for the trip to Kotir.

Once they were all finishished, Buffy ushered them to the front yard of the cottage and placed one on either side of the doorway with a grin. Faith came up behind her.

"How 'bout you two leave the easy work to us. We need you guys to stay here a guard our safe house for all your worth."

"Think you can handle that for us?" Buffy kissed each boy on the forehead and Faith waved.

"Here, I'll even leave you with a knapsack of provisions to keep you strong while we're gone." Faith handed them the bag off her back and ruffled Zach's hair. "Gonna be heart breakers one day, you two."

Buffy giggled and the two linked arms (Friendly way not lesbian way) and strode to catch up with the gang.

It was three hours until dawn and the rescue party was on their way to Kotir. Buffy had specially chosen ten top people from her force and Xander from his.

Buffy walked ahead of the rest with Faith by her side. They were talking in hushed voices as not to attract attention from unwanted visitors of the forest. Scavengers and marauders were always about.

They'd brought the horse and wagon full weapons and food, just in case. There was enough room eight people to ride as well. Xander, Cordelia, and Dawn had already taken up three of the seats leaving the subordinates to walk in the rear.

The archers and ground force just followed the wagon at a fast pace, eager to get back at Verdauga's soldiers. They did it willingly though. So far, not many of them had seen any fighting lately

Many had lost loved ones to the rebellions and were eager to get their revenge. The small band moved onwards, getting closer and closer to Kotir.

..................................

Spike woke at the sound of a door slamming. He lay quietly until he was sure the guards had left, not entered. He kicked the sleeping Oz's leg with his black leather boot.

"Wake up! It'll be dawn soon."

Oz sat up and wiped the sleep from his eyes. He glanced at the skylight in the ceiling and was up in a second. "Time to go then."

He produced the pocketknife from his boot and slid it into the keyhole of the door, angling turning gently. There was a small metallic click and the door creaked open slowly.

"Brilliant." Spike was out of the cell he was been in for three months. "Feels so good to be outta here."

"Were not outta here yet. That was the easy part."

Spike grimaced and followed Oz down the corridor towards Gingivere's cell. They couldn't see him, but they heard his even breathing.

"Gingivere? You probably don't remember me. You tried to save me from you father and sister. We're going to help you, one way or another. I just wanted to say thank you." Spike gazed into the dark cell expecting and answer, anything.

"Don't worry about me," came a raspy voice, "run. Run and save youself."

Oz began dragging Spike to the stairs. He called out behind him, "If you have helped my friend in some way I vow to try and help you someday!"

They reached the end of the corridor and began climbing the spiral stairs. Both men were panting slightly as they reached a wooden door at the top.

Spike eased it open without a sound. He eyed the hallways and windows; it was unusually bright. "Left or Right? And hurry, I think we're a little late."

Oz placed his pocketknife on the floor and spun it, waiting for it to stop. "Yeah we proably miscalculated because of that dark cell." The knife began slowing down. "The left. Go!"

They began climbing yet another set of stairs and reached a hall with two doors, one on each end. They were about to opt for the one on the right when they heard Tsarmina's voice.

"One word, one word of this gets out and you two are going to be stoned to death!"

The two crept back down the stairs. They couldn't tell where her voice was coming from the echo cause it to boom all around them.

They had just about turned the corner of the spiral staircase when the crashed right into Tsarmina, Drusilla, and Amy. They unknowingly had been climbing up the stairs behind them.

..................................

Outside Kotir Castle. In the bushes dividing the forest from Kotir, the little band had been laying low since dawn. They'd been there for maybe two hours.

Xander was lying on his back on a tuft of grass, talking with Faith and Buffy whom were lounging on a tree branch above his head.

"We can't stay here much longer." Xander spoke up, closing his eyes.

Buffy eyed Kotir's stony gray walls. "You're right, they'll see us from those towers quickly, but we can stay hidden for a little while more. We can't give up yet." She trailed off.

"Where the hell is Oz?" Faith sighed and started picking leaves and tried to get them to land on Xander's face.

..................................

Nobody could tell who was more surprised, the escaping prisoners or Tsarmina and her cronies. Almost immediately they crashed into each other; Tsarmina let out a growl of anger.

Spike and Oz were the first to recover. As fast as they could, they scrambled off the ground and raced back up the stairs, taking the right. They entered the room and slammed the door shut behind them. They found themselves in a crowded mess hall full of armor-clad soldiers. There were five tables vertical to them with a window at the end of each.

Taken completely by surprise, the soldiers gaped at the two.

"That's the last time I listen to your knife, Oz."

"Don't worry, be ready to bolt when I say so."

Tsarmina pulled the door straight off its hinges, but not with her strength. She was holding out her arms with the heavy wooden door hovering in front of her.

"What are you waiting for? Kill them!" she screamed at the gaping soldiers. They jumped at her order, putting down their breakfast and grabbing weapons.

Oz nodded towards the window.

Spike gave him and 'Are You Crazy?' look, but Oz never saw it. Without a second though he pulled Spike along with him.

Hopping onto one of the tables, they sprinted as fast at they could towards the end. Together the two leaped through the glass with a loud, defiant shout.

"YYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH"

..................................

Holy crap. That took 31 pages. Somebody better review. Ow, hands hurt. Ow ow ow.. **gets up and runs outside to lay in the sun** hehe. K. REVIEW!!