Okay, chapter six is now up. I think this may be a bit long, but It may not. I don't own Redwall. On with the story.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Boris was fascinated at the Redstone building. it was much more impressive when you were closer up. He looked around, seeing the orchard and abbey pond. Truly this was a place of plenty. Boris also mentally noted the behavior of the wood landers. They seemed to have no trained fighters, and the only one that remotely seemed to show a bit of warrior strength was Daniel. The mouse made Boris a bit nervous. Daniel reminded him of the warrior mouse in his dream.

The crafty weasel was led into the main Abbey building, but was halted by three strong otters. They looked a little weary, as if they had been traveling. A huge female badger came shambling over to the abbot and smiled. Ah, Abbot Garth, how's life, you old fogey? The Abbot smiled. Oh, I suppose it's been as good as can be expected, Sylvia. When did you get here? The badger patted Abbot Garth on the head lightly. Oh, no more than a couple of minutes ago. I snuck through the east wicker gate, with Skipper. Her voice dropped to a whisper. We saw a few vermin. It appeared that they were searching for something. One of the otters, bigger than the others, pointed to Boris. Wot's e doing here? I saw him with With a nod, the other two otters frisked Boris and produced the blood soaked cutlass and his two crossbow pistols. Looks like he's armed. Boris adopted a slightly indignant voice. What's wrong with carrying protection? I need to defend myself too, y'know!

A quick whispered conversation was held between the Abbot, Sylvia, and Skipper. Finally, they agreed to let him stay, though Skipper was highly reluctant. Boris swept off his hat and bowed. Thank ye for your hospitality, sirs and miss. Skipper just nodded curtly and walked away,but the Abbot smiled at Boris as if smiling at a favored son before saying cheerfully. You must be very hungry. Do you want a late breakfast? The weasel smiled and shrugged. If it's not too much trouble, Lord Abbot.

Boris sat on the floor of Cavern hole, sipping strawberry cordial daintily. He took in all of his surroundings. Decisively, he stood and walked to an old squirrel,who was the recorder of Mossflower. Excuse me, sir, but do you have any spare parchment an' quills an' ink? The squirrel, known as Treetail, shrugged. I think so. Follow me. The two creatures exited the cavernous area and strode to the main abbey door.

The gate house was very untidy. Dust and scrolls littered the floor like autumn leaves. Boris was lucky; he managed to get through the trap without spilling the ink he was carrying, or tripping and dropping the parchment. Feeling fairly relieved once he was out of the enclosed space, Boris set about his work. The sly beast began to draw what he thought a birds eye view would be like. The Great Hall was the easiest, drawing the staircases and dormitories were hard, but none harder than trying to draw the infirmary. It took Boris several hours to map the room. As he left, staring at the scrolls, he bumped into somebeast. It was the otter known as Skipper! Skipper stared at Boris, and said in a forced calm voice. Wot've ye got there? He peered closely at the parchment. Boris knew that if he tried to stop him, then Skipper would definitly know that something was up. He allowed the suspicicous otter a look. Skiper asked the question that Boris had been expecting. Why are ye drawing the Abbey? His eyes slitted dangerously. I like the architecture. It is very intricate in design. I just wanted to have a bit of fun.. Boris lied easily. Skipper stared hard at him for a moment before turning on his paw and striding away. {That was close.} Boris thought, inwardly shaken. Then, like a shadow, he slipped away.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Okay, this chapter is over. Next one: The Needle Within. See ya!-kickoutthejams