Extract from the writings of Rilbry, Recorder of Redwall Abbey.
The first snow of the season came overnight, and with the Dibbuns tired from their exhausting antics, and the elders tired with age, only the younger grown-ups, like me, are currently awake to experience it. The trees are frosty, the snow is glittering bright like a dazzling jewel, and the air outside is calm, with very few hints of life as the birds now focus on their well-deserved rest. With such silent and beautiful surroundings, it is difficult to imagine how it will all look once the Dibbuns have played in the snow for a while. Ah well, I suppose I better try not to be too grumpy about it; I don't mean to sound like an old grump. But you'll have to excuse me, as I can hear someone coming to the gatehouse, so I'd better put my writing on hold for now.
Rilbry put down his quill, sighed, and got up to answer the door. "Come in, friend, what is it?" he called out. "Rilbry, could you open the main gates? There's a traveler standing out in the cold!" came the voice of Abbot Rosk. "Coming, Father, but isn't young Dalin supposed to do that as gatekeeper?" He opened the door resignedly, chewing his whiskers in frustration. "How many times do I have to remind you, Dalin needs time to adjust to her position. Oversleeping is part of her nature as a dormouse." The Abbot spoke scoldingly, but smiled gently as he looked up at the tall otter. Rosk knew very well that Rilbry was always complaining for the sake of it. "Right, I'll get the job done, but you'll be the one to greet this traveler," Rilbry grumbled. The ancient bankvole chuckled inwardly; he may have been old, but he still understood his young friend perfectly. Rilbry may have looked like an irritable creature to a stranger, but Rosk knew better; beneath Rilbry's grumpy demeanor was a heart of gold. As they let the traveler in, the Abbot introduced himself. "Good morning, friend, I am Abbot Rosk. It is rare to see wanderers around at this time of year. What brings you to our Abbey?" The traveler, who was an old sea otter, spoke in a heavy northern accent. "Guid day teh ye, Abbot. Mah name is Abalag, an' Ah'm from Holt Pelano o' the far north. Is there any chance a pore traveler lahk meself could get a bit o' brekkist?" The Father Abbot ushered him into Great Hall, saying as they went, "Of course you can. What sort of an abbey would we be if we refused food to an honest beast like yourself?" Rosk turned and called to the kitchens, where he knew Friar Miana would already be up and making food; she was very enthusiastic about her job. "What can I do for you, Father? D'you need a meal for the ole seadog there?" She stared curiously at the weary figure of Abalag as he warmed his paws by the hearth. "Yes, Miana, as fast as you can make it, too," replied the patient Abbot. Meanwhile, Rilbry was chatting with the stranger. "I'm sure you'll enjoy it here, mate, however long or short you choose to stay." "Ah can shore see that. It do look lahk a happy place. But ah must repay yer hospitality somehow; a tale by the fire, if ye like," drawled the contented voice of Abalag. He lay back peacefully in the chair he was seated on, taking in all of the splendor of the Abbey's Hall, from the ancient wooden furniture, to the colorful stained glass windows shining down onto lazy dust motes in the air. "I'm sure the Dibbuns would be glad of that," responded Rilbry. "I'd be obliged if y'could wait for them to wake up, of course." Abalag eyed Friar Miana walking towards him, carrying a pair of platters. "Ah'll gladly do that for ye, mate, since it looks lahk ah have some food teh deal with first!" Miana put the platters down, right in front of the northerner. It was a splendid-looking breakfast, consisting of oat scones with redcurrant jam, an onion-and-cheese pastie, a handful of raspberry muffins with a smooth cream to go with them, and a cup of piping hot mint and thyme tea to wash it all down. By the time he had done full justice to the hearty meal, most of the Redwallers had already begun eating their breakfasts. The Abbot got everyone's attention and introduced Abalag to them, explaining that the otter would tell them all a story. Abalag leaned back, sighed contentedly, and began the tale. "This is a story from a time long ago, probably before the time of yon Abbey. It is a tale of great joy and sorrow..."
And so the story began.