Disclaimer: I don't own Redwall or Mossflower or anything created by Brian Jacques, because he owns that. I own the OC's, and any town that came from my mind.
Farda Ryut sat in her large dining hall. The glittering brightness of gold shone all around the jill, light glinting off from the very walls and their expansive mirrors, filling the large room with light, yet the stoat's mood was far from light.
She sat upon the splendidly decorated, throne-like main chair, her head lowered, absorbed in thought. The hall was devoid of any other beast, yet she spoke into the air, discussing and replying in a conversation that did not seem to exist.
"I have tried so much to rid myself of this 'Wraith', yet all previous attempts have failed... I am loosing my hold over this city..." Her voice flared, angry and frustrated. Of course, no audio reply was sounded, yet within the dark recesses of her mind, a dark, hiss of a whisper made its opinion known.
"Do not raise your voice to me! You realise that I could end your days..." It rasped "I can always find another to aid my purpose..."
Farda frowned darkly as she replied.
"I know... I know... It was not my place to question you, but what am I to do... These schemes of ours continue to fail and I grow weary of it all. How can I be sure that hiring this badger hunter will work?"
"Because it must! Blood Tailor is skilled in his work... I have watched him since his birth. I have been within him as I am now within you... He will complete his task!"
The Lady nodded simply, breathing in sharply as she rubbed her aching head.
"Fine, fine... I trust your judgement my Lord. Forgive me for doubting in you, it will not happen again, Master Badrang..."
"Good," Came the hissed reply "Martin's 'Wraith' shall soon meet their end, whoever they are..."
Farda sighed as she felt the intrusion exit from her mind and her thoughts were once again her own. She rubbed at her forehead once more and sat back into her chair closing her eyes to enjoy the rare moment of peace.
Three sharp taps at the dining room door ended her relaxation abruptly and a servant's voice announced "My Lady? Ambassador Eret has returned with the hunter you requested."
The Lady ran her claws through her headfur, looking up at the decorated ceiling in frustration. "Fine, fine... Tell them I will see them within the hour." She called.
"Yes, my Lady." Pawsteps growing fainter told her of the departure of the servant. The jill stood and made her way over to a lavish looking sofa, taking one of the cream coloured cushions. She buried her face into it, her claws tearing the golden thread at the edges, a muffled scream ejecting from her throat.
Having relieved some stress, the jill tore the cushion in two, throwing both pieces back onto the sofa and breathed in and out deeply, satisfied. Lady Farda exited through a door in the side of the room, heading up to her chamber to prepare to meet and negotiate with the legendary Blood Tailor, wondering what he might demand. She could not help but growl a little as she felt the familiar presence of Badrang returning to her mind.
"I have made some insurance plans..." His voice rasped cryptically, ignoring her annoyance.
In the darkness of the tiny room, Corvus was becoming the Wraith. Attached to the wall in front of him was an old carving; Martin the Warrior. Many seasons ago he had defended Mossflower, and before that, the North Lands, from great evils. Corvus knew the legend well. He remembered back to an event... a dream... that he had. It had been during a rough time, but the City Lord Dulan had been ruling. Martin had come to Corvus, he selected him as a champion, gave him skills that Corvus had not dreamt of having.
The Warrior mouse had chosen him to aid Dulan and defend the city; to stop the evils within it. But not even Martin had seen through the distractions to the real evils. Those tragic events that The Wraith was too late to stop. Dulan was assassinated. Farda became Lady. Now, to defend his city, Corvus had to go against its very ruler.
He donned his costume with a ceremonial significance. This identity had come from Martin and the spirits themselves... It was special, something truly sacred. Each component was added slowly and with respect. The red trousers with the black stitching, the weapons belt with his rapier (named and engraved with the word 'Dragonfly') and his custom curved small throwing daggers, the dark lightweight armour underneath it all, the maroon tunic, the black boots and the scarlet cloak were all subject to this ceremony. Most importantly and finally Corvus donned his mask. The two holes filling with his amber eyes, the rest of the top half of his face remained hidden beneath the scarlet red fabric.
The Scarlet Wraith was ready. He closed up the little room, completely hiding its existence and walked to another room; his kitchen. Corvus bent down near the corner and gently twisted what looked like one of the nails holding a cupboard together. A rope attached to an axel within a secret compartment of the cupboard relaxed and, in a cupboard further along, a wooden trap door opened to reveal a stone staircase leading below the house. The marten opened this cupboard and stepped in, closing it behind him quickly. He descended the staircase, pushing the trap door up as he went and causing the rope to go taught again.
After a flight of two stone steps down a narrow shaft, Corvus found himself with stone room, furnished only by an archery target, two screens and three combat-practice dummies and lighted by two torches. There was one at each side, North and South, of the rather expansive space. Two tiny channels above these acted as chimneys, and, as Corvus had worked out from objects that occasionally came down them, connected to the cities landfill dump. This was good because it meant that any smells or smoke that the torches produced were unnoticed.
Leading from the stone room was a cave-like passage that, after about 300 yards, exited, through a heavily overgrown hole, behind a waterfall on the outskirts of the city.
Corvus sat on one of the dummies, set on its side. He waited. Soon enough his keen whiskers picked up a disturbance and his sharp ears heard the two beasts approaching down the tunnel. Satya and the otter, Retta had arrived. He nodded as they entered, saying nothing yet. The pair went behind a screen each and the marten waited for them to be ready. Already, in his mind, plans were forming for the rescue. He hoped they would work.
A: Well, rather short I feel, but still, it leads on nicely for the next part. I'm afraid I have been watching too much Zorro for inspiration... Oh well. I hope you enjoyed it and, I know, a bit –too- descriptive about the Wraith's lair, but I wanted to explain it fully.