A story was told among the Tribe, of a place where they used to live, a place where they frolicked and played and had plenty for all. There was also a story of a dark fearful night when they had been driven out. By their hated and feared enemy’s, the Warriors of Rach!
The work was hard, yet Dirgon liked it. It had always been that way, since before it happened. The move. He hated to think about it. The thought made his blood boil. That night long ago…he was only a baby then, yet the day was like yesterday. The feast, and contentment of all, the songs dances, then, it happened. He remembered the shrill whistle of the sentry, and then the sudden appearance of the bears, big black ones with huge clubs, and finally, He came. Some said he was the last of a tribe of grizzlies from the south, some said of the North. Nevertheless, he came, and the tribe had escaped through a long kept secret, a tunnel to the outside. First went women and children, then came the rearguard, with pikes facing out, and then, they vanished. The p***ageway had a concealed opening, and through this everyone escaped.
No matter now, they had a new life, a new beginning, and though it was hard, they learned to enjoy it. There was plenty of space for the otter cubs to frisk about in, and the soil yielded good crop. The island was large and shared with only a small tribe of shrews who came to live there. They had little contact with those outside, except with logalog Big Foot, the leader of Guosim. Now that the sea monster had been annihilated, the lake happily welcomed comings and goings between them.
Though the place was good, some of them still thought about the old life. Some said they should go back, yet the others were doubtful, thinking the Rachs had taken over the ideal place. Some wanted to take a group back to check, yet those were foolhardy thoughts. Even if the ways weren’t so dangerous, at the end there was possibly the Bears. The tribe was waiting for a bold audacious warrior, who would not fear to take the journey.
Dirgon stopped contemplating and went back to the harvesting work. They must get it all done or they wouldn’t be able to have their seasonal feast. At that thought he began to work with vigor, looking forward to not only the feast, but the games after. Ahh, what a time it would be! Digron went back to his adz work with a sigh. He would have to get working and stop daydreaming if he wanted enough food for the feast. They were very short with the dearth that summer, yet they worked together with the shrews to get enough for a goodly spread.
The loud bonggg of the dinner bell awakened him from his contemplation. He heard the ravenous “oohs” and “ahhh’s” coming from the dinning room. As he saw the spread, he suddenly decided the dearth couldn’t have been that severe. If a legion of hares was to come calling on the party all their gluttonous desires would be appeased. Ahh, he couldn’t wait!
“Curse this infernal wound,” thought Skargath. It was a tiny little arrow wound in his shoulder that was festering. He thought with satisfaction of the ones it came from. The raid on the field mice had been a complete victory, with no losses on their part at all. Unlike the first raid he’d made in his younger years. He would find that cursed otter tribe! He swore he’d never forgive them for crushing his paw. It had healed some, yet the frequent stabs of unbearable pain were a constant reminder of the price he’d had to pay for this cave. At least they had taken the most strategically situated place from them. He would meet with them someday, by Hecky-Thump he would!
As he took his place, Digron noticed a strange quiet. He then saw why everyone was so subdued. The village elder had just walked in and was about to signal the beginning of the meal. He sat down, closed his eyes, then when he opened them he said “What are you youngsters waiting for? Let’s start!” With that everyone fell on the food with an amazing appetite. The otter next to Digron was having an eating contest with a nearby shrew. Laughing, Digron said, “Let me show you how it’s really done, young Jargon.” “Ha, you couldn’t eat as much as a fly, you barrel of lard!” replied Jargon, spraying crumbs over the shrew and every-one else near-by. The friendly banter went back and forth between the many tables, as otters and shrews tucked in with amazing appetite.
As the friendly banter went back and forth, the Elder began to dose. In his dream he saw a bear, Skargath, whom he recognized as his enemy. He also saw another shape appear out of the sleepy mist. It was a spider chasing after the bear. He then saw his home and was filled for longing of it. Following this, a mouse appeared in the dream. He could tell it was no ordinary mouse. Then the mouse spoke in a firm, commanding voice. He spoke in a riddle.
The wise and the dreamer
The foolish but strong
These on the journey
Take you along
Though trial and great peril
Beset you with fears
A mouse maid named Meril
Has the power of a sear.
The mouse began to fade, and the Elder cried after him. But the mouse only pointed at a tapestry of himself and a tattooed otter in front of it. Then the otter turned to him, and the tattoos vanished. Then he said in a husky voice,
“I shall meet you here at the thorn wall,
Be there at dawn of the winters lulling”
The dream faded and he awoke.
Meril sighed. She had been having those dreams again, and as always, when she shared them she got laughed at. But, when she shared it with the abbot, a wise yet youthful shrew, surprisingly, He nodded and said, “I think that you are being told by Martin the Warrior that someone is going visit Redwall very soon, and that this person, or group, will go to you for help. You had better be prepared to go with them and do as Martin says.
That night, Meril dreamed again. This time, it was different. She saw not otters, but a large fearful clan of Bears! She a-woke in a cold sweat, and went downstairs to drink some refreshing, warming Elderberry wine. As she went upstairs, she saw a fleeting glimpse of a creature that looked like a vulture! At least, that what it was like, judging from her history lessons, the ones that spoke of Mathias’s adventure going to Loamhedge. She must tell someone! But would they laugh, just as always? She wondered if, and hoped they would not, laugh at her. Well, she should try anyway.
“Skargath” called buckeye, his mate. “What do you want” he said, annoyed. “There has been news that the Otter tribe is on its way here to take revenge.” , she replied. “Oh, and what do you propose?” “I think that half of our tribe should meet them while they are still coming and un-prepared.” “Then they will be surprised, and we shall crush them before they can eve come close to our cave.”
Dirgon stopped eating. Everyone stopped eating. What was that strange poem the Elder had said? All eyes turned to him as he started up. He spoke the verse again and cried, "We will avenge our comrades and return to our home! The journey starts tomorrow!" The revelers roared with approval and some of the older generation started crying with joy and the thought of their old home. Dirgon was ecstatic. A chance for him to go on an adventure! To make his tribe see that he was not an irresponsible little kit, and that he would soon be a full-grown male otter. His face beamed, and little otter kits and shrew babes crowded around him, awed and envious. Little did any one know how true the verse was, and what awaited them along the way.
Meril had expected laughter, so she was not disappointed. Only three didn’t laugh. The old, graying hare Tammo, the wise badgermum Cregga, and her faithful friend Rolch, the hedgehog. Even the Abbot chuckled, despite his wise words earlier. Meril was surprised at Tammo, that he wasn’t holding his sides like the others. This time, instead of laughing with the rest, he came up and spoke to her. "I'm not so bally sure about this vulture stuff, but about jolly old Martin. He's talked to me before, and I think something will come of this. You can't mistake his voice, and these fat headed feaster's 'll find that out. So chin up chest in, and don’t water the orchard, coz they don’t like salt, wot wot!" With that he walked back to his chair, and began eating with gusto. Meril smiled, and the laughter suddenly didn't matter anymore.
The characters needed are: Cregga, Meril, Dirgon, Her best friend Rolch, the elder, one more otter, Tammo,(Me) Skargath, his mate, and the warrior of redwall. Ask, and post a long Bio( 9 sentences) and I will consider. If their is a female member, please sign up for cregga or Meril. We need all the characters specified, not including the warrior of redwall, the other otter, and Cregga. Ok, have fun!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
