Black Watchers

From inside a pile of bodies there came a groan as something stirred. It extracted itself from the mound of corpses it had been buried in. now in the light, the squirrel turned and saw the remains of his secretive tribe, betrayed from the inside to the Dark Priest of unnatural things who had found their village. Those not on the pile lay on the floor, throats cut, blood collected in vials, half of which rested in the Priest's cloak, the other half lay broken on the floor, smashed in one of the Priest's bizarre rituals, the blood making unnatural patterns as it spread out of the shattered vials.

In the light of the early morning sun, a black clad figure stood before the remains of his village in travelling clothes with his staff in hand and declared revenge upon the one who had done this to his people; High Priest of the Hell-Gates' Keeper, Urlar Golan.

Tiral turned away from the sight and headed south, the direction the Priest had gone, leaving the familiar mountains behind he travelled after his foe. On the path were two foxes, each with an axe in hand and a grin on their faces, coming down the path was a shuffling figure in a black robe, leaning upon a staff. An easy target, or so they thought.

"Hey you" one of them yelled at the figure, "yew gotta pay a toll to use this path"

The hood raised a little, the hidden eyes stared at the fox, "No" was the single word the figure spoke, still walking towards the two foxes

"What did yew say?" said the other, in disbelief; usually others cowered before the two fearsome bandits

"I will pay you nothing," said the figure, gripping the top quarter of his staff tightly, strolling past the two dumbstruck vermin

The first fox yelled at the figure walking slowly away, "Hey! Hey! Stand still!" the figure stopped, "give us all yer vittles now, and your valuables"

"No, you get nothing," replied the figure, stopping and lifting the staff sideways and twisting the end

The fox ran at him, raising his axe high over his head for a skull-shattering blow, the figure stood still, listening, the fox come closer, the figure counted under his breath "one", the fox came closer, "two", closer, "three!"

The fox was almost upon him when Tiral yanked the staff with his right paw, drawing the long sword hidden within the stout walking staff, he spun around to the right with all his force, the razor sharp blade passing through the fox, he stepped left and dodged the two halves of the corpse as they hit the ground. Tiral faced the other fox and lowered his hood, revealing himself as a black furred squirrel, with a streak of crimson running from nose to between his ears, drawn with the blood of his kind

"I suggest you run," he said, brandishing the sword, the fox fled and the sword was sheathed, disguised as a staff once again.

A band of vermin was trekking through Mossflower Woods after being ousted from their previous territory by some shipwrecked sea rats. They had wondered North-East and had caught sight of a dusty red spire standing above the trees, knowing only what it was they set out too investigate, finding plenty of food along the way.

"Ya know, tis quite nice round eres, vittles grow on trees, food wanders into our traps willingly. Could be a decent place to rebuild our clan, eh Chief," a stoat called Sharpeye said as they all sat around, dozing away their meals

The Chief, a ferret named Junka, considered Sharpeye's suggestion, "tis a nice enough plan, but that red stone building is a h'abby, and with a h'abby full of slaves we'd never go hungry again. We jus gotta slay the leader and poof, we own a fortress and rule as a dominant clan once again"

The other vermin cheered their chieftain's inspirational words, their naps forgotten as they began marching towards Redwall Abby, the Chief proudly surveying the score of assorted vermin that was their only remnants of a clan that ruled the sand plains to the SW of their current position, the camp had been near the sea when four searat vessels, wrecked on the reefs nearby had run aground and attacked the clan's camp, those currently with Junka were all that remained. Junka had fought for a bit, but had fled with as many of the clan as possible away from the shore and into higher ground, a lot had been lost in getting here, he hoped the Abby would not take more.

"So? What's the plan?" asked one of the Weasels under Junka's command

"We gotta get there first," replied their chief

At that moment in Redwall, thoughts of helping a vermin clan were the last things in their heads, more pressing was the problem of dibbuns in the strawberry patch.

"I think we should rescue some strawberries for Cellerhog Durmo's strawberry fizz and cordials," said Abbot Theonalos, known to his friends as Theo, to the Badgermum at his side

Morea, Badgermum of Redwall nodded and waded in to the dibbuns, picking them up and depositing them at the base of an apple tree in groups, leaving the adult beasts to move in and gather the remaining strawberries. "There we go Abbot, one batch of dibbuns relocated" Morea said upon her return to the shade of the old beech tree in the grounds

It was the beginning of summer, and a nameday feast was being prepared and all beasts wanted to help, the dibbuns having been banished outside after their 'help' in the kitchens by an irritated Friar Kennum, driving them out with a ladle, "You'm be gettn owt of ere now" he said to the fleeing dibbuns as they left the abbey and made straight for the strawberry patch.

The adults quickly saved the remaining strawberries and carted the berries in to the kitchens and the cellars, Durmo getting to work with some empty barrels, making strawberry cordial and fizz to go into them he sealed the barrels and placed them in a safe place to be opened in the seasons to come.

Tiral was in trouble, the fox he had spared had found friends and had come for revenge, one of them already lay dead by Tiral's paw but he was still outnumbered two to one.

He was down, the second of the two foxes had darted behind him as he killed the first, and he was clubbed on the back of the head and fell onto the floor, his sword skittering away from him. He turned over and stared up at the fox about to smash his head to a pulp.

Something bounded from the trees at lightning speed, crashing into the fox's head and proceeded to tear it to pieces, he hit the floor screaming and then fell silent as his attacker broke through his skull.

The creature looked up from the corpse and stared at Tiral, it was a black squirrel.

"Who are you?" Tiral asked, getting up off the floor and retrieving his sword

"I last of Watchers, who you?" the squirrel replied

"I am a Watcher, like you," he said, trying to sheath his blade, but his scabbard had been broken in the fight and was now useless, he decided to lean upon the sword for now

The strange squirrel looked at Tiral sideways, as if considering him, "You lie, all dead. But you smell like watcher, you have watchers blood on you"

"I survived, I was buried under the corpses of our brethren. I am Tiral, who are you?"

"I...I am...am" here the squirrel wracked his brain, searching through his fractured memories "I am called Nialo" he finally said

Tiral looked concerned, "What happened to you?" he asked

Nialo shook his head, "Dunno, fought priest's minions, caught, not killed, priest laughed, traitor watcher hold me down, made drink something and Nialo sleep, body follow priest. I awoke in vermin camp, I escape, run, find you" Nialo sat down after telling his tale, "priest heading for second bastion, but we ahead of him" he added, Tiral's spirits fell

"He seeks to destroy all three, then the Vermin will be free to rule unchecked, this must not happen Nialo, we fell, Redwall will not, we have to get there...fast"