WR: Heya!! This is my second fic- an attempt to best my first, which is (in my oppinion) clearly inferior to the great books by Brian Jacques..
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Redwall, although I wish I did. To be sure, though, many things in this fic are my property, such as Teardrop Abbey, and all the other characters. Oh, but Malvex isn't mine. He was a good friend of mine's RP character, and I'm using him now with her permission.
December: And now back to our regularly scheduled story.
Good day, traveller! I am Salim, recorder and librarian of Teardrop Abbey.
This collection of records is based on one of the greatest and worst times that our small order here in the northlands has gone through. I like to call it "Those Sad yet Golden years", but as you read on, you will discover that it has been given quite a different title.
In my spare time, this summer, I have carefully compiled bits and pieces of the story, while painstakingly questioning many beasts and copying down there words as best I was able. As a result, this new volume shall be soon added into our archives.
Now sit back, my friend, and listen as I tell you the tale of a time when only good wildcats lived in the abbey, and two unique terror's sailed the sea...
It was a humid summer evening, with all the flowers slowly drawing their petals closed against the bright sunlight that reflected from a sky painted glorious reds, pinks, violets, and creamy golds.
Oblivious to the splendor all around, an old fox walked slowly up to the abbey gate and knocked loudly on it, his once brilliant red fur faded, now, to a pale orange streaked with splotches gray.
One of his eyes was an almost-sightless orb, while the other, having been gouged out in his wild days, was covered with a black cloth patch.
Despite all of this, he was greatly loved by the dibbuns (they were the resident infants), who didn't care of hide nor sight.
Upon hearing the echoing thud on the door, the gatekeeper, a mole by the name of Whurtoil, flung open the gates, shouting gleefully, "Hurr hurr, ee storrieteller bee's yurr, chi'lun!!" Before the words had barely escaped his mouth, a stampede of abbey babes came hurtling into the gatehouse, swarming the fox.
"Yayayay!! Da sto'y tella's hewe!"
"Heeheehee! Heyo, mista 'vex, wememba me's? Li'l Dinda?"
"He norra 'member /yoo's/ Din'a, yoo a'ways fall as'eep hawfway t'roo da stowy."
"Burr, oi luvv's t' 'ear yore storries, mis'er 'vex, boi 'okey, oi do!"
"I say, ol' lad, ye wou'dn't wanna f'get this hare chappess, eh, wot wot! I w's yer best list'ner last time."
"Hah! Bes' wistenew my footpaw, Afi, you kep' 'trruptin'...."
"SILENCE, please, all of you! Give him some room!!"
At the sharp command of their abbess, a middleaged wildcat named Serenity, the dibbuns sulkily cleared a path for the old fox. Everyone was absolutely quiet to such an extant that the only sound was his footpaws, and the click of his cane against the stone floor.
At last when he reached the cat, she nearly flung her arms around him but caught herself just in time, and shook his paw instead. Immediately the room erupted with joyous shouts and applause, and the dibbuns pressed in as close as they could get, adding squeaks of delight to the merry festivity.
It took several minutes of shouting for Abbess Serenity to quiet everyone. But when she did, what she had to say made everybeast groan. "My friends, Malvex has traveled a long ways. He needs his rest! Why don't you show him to his chambers, Hazel?" Shyly the chocolate brown mousemaid slipped out of the crowd and carefully led their visitor away, as Saih continued her speech. "Good, good. Now Friar Dillow, you and your helpers will have to work extra hard to get a feast ready before it's too late to have one. We must treat our guest with respect, and I'm quite sure that after all that long, dusty walking he must be very hungry..." "Certainly, marm. C'mon, crew." The burly ottercook headed towards the kitchens, with a mixed group of shrews, wildcats, and otters trailing reluctantly behind him.
The meal finished, and the sky now darkened completely, everyone gathered around a great bonfire in the orchard. Malvex's features were softly accented by the flickering shadows, and in the firelight his fur appeared white as a ghost.
Then he began to speak in a low voice, and all the infant's craned their necks closer in anticipation.
"Arr, this's a story of my younger days, when I sailed the deep as a corsair. Now list'n carefully, young'uns, as I tell you the tale of the Blood Prince of the Seas...