Ho! The Gate! [open]

[Grath]

"Ho! The gate!" A deep baritone rang out, echoing against the ancient stone walls. Standing on the path below was a rough looking otter, who nonetheless smiled broadly beneath his vast expanse of whiskers. With him stood a pack of equally grinning, but on the whole much less scruffy than their leader, being river otters. Along with their cherished javelins they sported great packs of shrimp and fish, a few even had small wicker baskets with river plants or forest herbs to supplement the Abbey's own great gardens.

They were all laughing and chattering as they waited for the opening of the gates, they had come so early that they had not been opened for the day yet. Mist rose in the dells, though light streaked through the trees and a certain quality about the air forecast bright sun and a pleasant, warm day to come. "Ho!" Skipper called again, wondering if the gatebeast still slept.

[Tirael]

◄

THE QUEEN OF THE FEAST

"Okay, one more and then I have to go help with the feast, alright?"

The chorus of disappointed "awws" from the gathered Dibbuns wasn't enough to sway Tirael, who simply smiled a little bashfully at their attention. In reality, his storytelling had probably been a great service to the other Abbeydwellers, who had a much easier time setting up for the Summer Nameday Feast without a gaggle of children running about underpaw. As for Tirael himself, well, it was nice to get a chance to share some of the many, many stories he'd read with an eager audience, even if he had to pause every ten seconds or so to field a question about the plot, the characters, or something entirely unrelated that just happened to flit into one of the Dibbuns' minds.

"Let's see..." the otter murmured, the tip of his rudder tapping up and down as he sorted through his mental library. There were plenty of stories to choose from, although the Dibbuns typically preferred the ones with plenty of action scenes they could imitate on the Abbey grounds. (He'd particularly enjoyed watching a young hedgehog slay an Asmodeus made up of one young mouse sitting on another's shoulders.) "Oh! I can tell you the story of Tiria, the High Queen Rhulain of the Otters of--"

"Tiria? In't tha' your name?" interjected a young squirrelmaid, who cocked her head in genuine confusion.
"That--no, I mean, i-it's close, but not exactly..." Tirael tried to get things back on track, but it was entirely too late. In the space of one sentence, he had somehow gone from being Tirael the Infirmary Keeper to Tiria, the High Queen Rhulain. There was nothing he could do but sigh, bury his face in his paws, and accept his newfound royal status. In order to commemorate his new reign, the Dibbuns quickly made their Queen an elegant crown of interwoven foxgloves and honeysuckle flowers. Reluctantly, Tirael stooped to allow them to place the crown on his head, where it sat slightly lopsided.

The sound of somebeast shouting from nearby provided a convenient escape, one which Tirael seized on instantly. "Uh...I'll go see to that, you all, um...go to the Great Hall and see if you can help!" As the feast was to take place in the orchard, it was doubtful the hyperactive youngsters could make much of a nuisance from within the Abbey building; at any rate, Tirael would now have a few minutes to himself. Standing from the old log where he'd been perched, the young otter made his way to the gatehouse, climbed the stairs, and peered over the battlements.

"Skipper!" he chimed when he saw who stood outside the gate. "Wait just a minute, I'll come let you lot in!" Rushing down the stairs, Tirael took some of the steps two at a time and made it quickly to the gate. Actually getting the heavy oaken door open was a bit more of an ordeal, as removing the bolt on his own was no easy feat. With a grunt of exertion, he managed to shove it out of the way and then threw his weight on the door to push it open for their guests. He grinned up at the older otter, slightly out of breath and evidently having forgotten he was still wearing his queenly coronet. "You have no idea how good your timing is."

PINN ツ

[Grath]

The early morning fog was slowly burning off before a head finally popped over the battlements. Skipper beamed up at it, waving a friendly paw. Shortly enough the door was slowly opening, several otters moved forward and helped to pull the massive doors open. Skipper was focused on the bright, slightly askew crown perched above the infirmary keeper's ears. He prodded one with one heavy claw. "Been braiding daisy chains, laddie?"

"Oi! Be careful wi' those!" He snapped as a younger otter trotted by with a clinking chest balanced precariously on his noggin. "Brought me best spices fer 'otroot soup." He explained to Tirael as the chastised otterlad followed the rest of the food laden otters towards the kitchens.

[Tracy]

Preparations were in full swing for their Nameday Feast and Priya seemed to be everywhere at once. She was helping with decorations, collecting ingredients for the cooks, making dining arrangements and herding Dibbuns. Tirael had the Dibbuns for now, reading them stories she understood. Plucking a daffodil from a nearby arrangement in the Great Hall and twining the stem to tuck it comfortably behind her ear, the Recorder headed out to the grounds, trying to track down her miniature drama troupe to practice for their evening performance

The young red-furred squirrel followed Tirael briefly into the gatehouse as he was letting Skipper's crew in. "Hi Tirael!" she said quickly, shuffling to catch up with him when she saw him moving toward the gate. "Just wanted to let you know I'll be taking some of the Dibbuns to practice our play..." her green eyes traveled up to the crown perched on his head, "...your Majesty." She flickered a playful smile at him.

She helped him open the gate, a look of pure and childish excitement that the Abbey would have even more guests for the solive festivities. "Welcome, Skipper!" Priya tittered excitedly. "Can I help at all?" The Recorder certainly wasn't built for heavy labor, but that wasn't ever going to stop her from volunteering her services.

[Django]

Nik Lagdo was never good at timing things, so he was pleasantly surprised to see the gates of Redwall opening just as he was leading his shrews down the path. He'd brought the whole tribe. All thirty-seven of them. His deputy trotted beside him, holding his paw and swinging it in the summer breeze. With his free paw, Nik hailed the abbey.

"Oy, got room for some 'ungry shrews?" he called to the crowned otter and tiny squirrel as the otter crew tumbled inside. "G'day, all."

"We brought fishes!" Day and Night, Nik's fan club, held up a heavy net between them. It was full to bursting with small fish of all sorts. 

"Lots of berries!" A giggling mass of shrewbabes sprinted to the open gates, carrying a basket each of wild blackberries, elderberries, strawberries, and anything the Guosim had been able to pick up on their way. The little ones sprinted to the crowned otter, laughing and pointing at his funny hat.

"Don't run 'em over!" Nik called sharply. The babes skidded to a halt, their little tails vibrating as they waited for their chieftain to get to the gates.

"An' don't drop yer berries," Ban admonished the babes. "You promised Mother Bardineta lots of berries, an' if one of you tripped and lost 'em, you'd make her cry!"

A collective gasp went up from the group of shrewlets, who started walking on tip-paw to the kitchens with Night and Day in the lead. Nik chuckled and offered a paw to the crowned otter at the gate.

"Logalog, good t' meetcha," he said. Noticing the chest the otter crewbeast was handling, he called to their leader, "Skip, ya brought enough spices to burn the abbey down!"

[Grath]

"oh, no lassie, we've got it." Skipper tipped a wink to the tiny squirrelmaid. The GOUSIM arrived, noisy and wild as ever, their chieftain keeping a tight rein on the horde of tiny shrewbabes that had started to charge the gate. The mob skidded to a stop just short of the Tirael, and Skipper couldn't help but guffaw at the looks of consternation on the babe's faces as they tiptoed with great seriousness inside, towards the abbey. He sent a wide grin Log-a-log's way in approval.

 "Skip, ya brought enough spices to burn the abbey down!"

"Its no a good 'otroot soup wi'out it, laddie!" Skipper replied, slapping the smaller creature on the back as he came even with him. "Shall we head inside before the babes eat the abbot out o' house and home?" Without more than a brief pause he started across the vast green lawn towards the main building.

[Tirael]

It was fortunate that Redwall wasn't a fortress, because Tirael was far from an intimidating gatekeeper. The otters in the ottercrew regarded the healer with amusement, although he didn't immediately realize it was because of his unusual headwear. After all, it was a feast day, so cheerful feelings were running high for everyone within the Abbey; why shouldn't it be the same for those who chose to stop by?

"Been braiding daisy chains, laddie?"

The question caused Tirael's grin to drop. "I--"

"Hi Tirael! Just wanted to let you know I'll be taking some of the Dibbuns to practice our play...your Majesty."

Tirael gasped as he realized what everyone was laughing at. He hurriedly snatched the crown off his head, mortified that they'd all seen him like that. He blushed hard underneath his fur, stepping back to make room for the Skipper and his crew as they stepped through the threshold into the grounds. He found himself wishing that it had been anyone else at the gates. The healer was intensely aware that, compared to the tough and boisterous ottercrew, he was rather unimpressive; he didn't need a flowery wreath to chip away at what little dignity he felt he had in their eyes.

"Brought me best spices fer 'otroot soup."

Trying gamely not to show how humiliated he felt, Tirael forced a smile and nodded. "Right...yes! We'll need plenty of that, no doubt." As the flood of otters and shrews finally made it through the doorway, he tugged on the gate to pull it shut once again. "We're setting up in the orchard, so if you'd both like to bring your people that way, I think we can set up a cauldron somewhere out there?"

[Liam]

Liam yawned as he awoke to the sounds of chirping birds in the Mossflower Woods. The sun was now fully over the horizon, something the young traveler preferred to avoid doing as much as he could. A sunrise was a beautiful thing, especially in these parts, and there was also nothing quite like the brisk chill that accompanied it.

"Maybe I shouldn't have had those berries," he muttered to himself as he broke camp. "They were quite good, although I couldn't quite tell what that aftertaste was. "

After a few minutes of intense stretches, Liam was ready to go. He slung his pack onto his back, picked up his spear, and headed off.

'Where to, I wonder?' he thought to himself, and started whistling to pass the time. Within seconds, every living thing within earshot had fled out from the horrid noise as fast as they could. Liam himself paid no heed to it, having become used to the phenomenon.

"This place looks familiar," he remarked, taking a good look at his surroundings. "If I recall correctly, Redwall Abbey is not that far from here. Perhaps I'll pay the place a visit; it's been far too long since I was last there."

Nodding, he set off at comfortable walking pace, taking in the scenery and whistling all the while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a fair bit of walking, Liam turned around a bend, and a large, red structure came into view. Its walls gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight, its towers rose to spectacular heights. Even the vegetation around the place seemed more vibrant.

"Redwall is still a sight to behold," he murmured, shutting his open jaw. He walked towards the abbey, then stopped when he noticed that the gate was closed. He rubbed his eyes, then looked closer, but alas, the gate was indeed shut.

"That's odd," Liam frowned. "It should be open at this time of day. I wonder where the gatekeeper has gone?"

Shrugging, the mouse walked forward and knocked on the gate. "Hey!" he called out. "Is anyone there?"

[Kaspiyan]

Risky had never gotten along with sparrows. He couldn't point to any particular experience to where it all started, but the little birds had never given him anything but trouble, made the more frustrating by his usual inability to chase after them. So going to sleep that night and waking up a rustling sound just in time to see a pair of chattering sparrows flap up and away with his knapsack of food was an unpleasant way to start things. He sprung up, swinging out with his dagger as they vanished into the Mossflower canopy.

"Fie on you damn flappers!" He shouted, nearly throwing his dagger in frustration."

"Haha! Steal wormbug food, steal very good! Wormbug jump and no fly!" The chattering laughter echoed through the branches as they disappeared. Risky glared at the trees, sighed, then buckled up his sword and made sure his travelling satchel was secure. That was far more valuable than any food, which was relatively plentiful in Mossflower. Even for an outsider like him, he'd generally been able to forage for berries, nuts, fruit, and catch some fish in the Moss while trading with the odd woodlander who wouldn't turn down a stoats money.

Wolfing down some raspberries he found, he undid his wayward traveling of the previous day and finally got back on the beaten path, reassured by the occasional sign. So, the road to Redwall. Wonder how many others paws have gone this way, and never came back. Rumor and myth about the abbey were rampant in the south, an invincible red castle that had withstood the onslaught of warlords, pirates, and kings. Being new to the region, Kaspiyan had sent him to scout out the legendary abbey and size it up, determine if it was a danger to their company, and whether it should be ignored or not. Pointing out that the abbeybeasts likely wouldn't fancy a stoat up in there face given their history, the cat had given a wry smile and said that one of the others could always be sent instead.

That got Risky moving. While he trusted the other mercenaries as comrades in arms, if the goal was to socialize with others in a way that didn't involve drinking or fighting, a live pike dropped into the abbey lawn would be more discreet. Risky made good time, and arrived at the outskirts of the abbey. The red sandstone walls were striking to the stoat, who was used to drab grey and rock, but it didn't strike him as much of a mighty bastion. He'd seen more impressive fortifications taken, but he reserved his judgement for now. Rounding the abbey to what he took to be the main gate, he took a deep breath and checked to make sure he looked as least like a mangy mercenary as possible, then called out.

"Hullo there, fine morning to all within! Traveler hear, looking for some vittles and lodging."

[Luna Broadblade]

Lorne was running late. He knew he was running late as he made his way along the Abbey Wall, passing the Bell Tower as he approached the Front Gate. The only consolation was that he didn’t have a particular role today other than being helpful, so he might be able to get away with the absence.

What kind of fool forgets Name Day?

This self berating was unhelpful, and Lorne knew that, but… It was frustrating to find out that he hadn’t been made an official Brother yet. What had they said?

We fear you are not ready to take the final step. You are young, and there’s still much about life you do not know. Take time to reflect if this life is truly the one you want.

Lorne slowed as he remembered those words. Too young, not experienced, not serious enough… These words kept popping up. And forgetting one of the biggest celebrations of the year… He’d spent half the morning playing in the Orchard. That was no way to convince anyone he was serious about officially being made a Brother. Distantly he could see the greeting party moving away from the Gate’s, headed to the inner parts of the Abbey. He could make out the figure of Priya, and smiled. While he had voted for a concert, he knew the Dubbins enjoyed working on their play. It hadn’t been a hardship to be beaten on that poll.
Picking up the pace, he made it just as the stragglers were leaving. It was then he heard knocking and the sounds of raised voices at the door. He paused. The gate was closed, and people wanted in. But he wasn’t the gate keeper. But it was Name Day. But he could get in trouble…

Perhaps he should get someone…

After a moment’s reflection, he shook his head at his own foolishness. Was he not a member of the Abbey? Surely he could open the door to strangers in need. It was a day of community and joy: No one should be locked out.

“Just a moment,” he called out. Quickly he looked down, and brushed a few crumbs of his Habit before straightening it. The young vole ran a paw through his fur and took a bracing breath. He was representing Redwall Abbey in this moment, and should look respectable.

This in mind, he opened the door, eyes alighting on two figures. The first was a mouse a clear traveler by his dress. The second… Lorne reminded himself that one shouldn’t judge based on appearances. But that was hard, considering he was looking at a stoat. Maybe he should have gotten the gatekeeper.

“Greetings travelers,” Lorne smiled as he spoke in a way that he hoped was friendly. Usually it was a very friendly smile, but once again; stoat. “Yer timing is impeccable, though a little early. We’re setting up for the Nameday Feast. Would ye like tae come and wait inside?”

[Liam]

"We most certainly would," Liam replied, casting a wary glance at the stoat beside him. His sudden arrival had thrown Liam off guard for a moment; it seemed inconceivable that a vermin would waltz straight up to Redwall, much ignore a woodlander standing right beside him. He had been considering his options, but with the gate open, there was only one available to him.

'Besides,' he thought, 'just how much trouble could he get up to here anyways?'

"Do you need any help setting up?" Liam inquired. As a traveler, he spent a lot of time repaying the hospitality shown to him in the form of work. There was all sorts of things that he had learned while helping other creatures with their chores, so in a way it also wasn't work. It was a part of traveling that he nearly looked forward to as much as traveling itself.

[Kaspiyan]

"Oh, hullo there mate." Risky almost stumbled into the mouse, and was about to ask his name before the gatekeeper peeked over the wall and looked down at them.

“Yer timing is impeccable, though a little early. We’re setting up for the Nameday Feast. Would ye like tae come and wait inside?”


"Aye, I'd be happy to help with a cause so noble as a feast." Risky called out cheerily, tipping his feathered cap. He quickly looked himself over. Redwall was allegedly a pacifistic place, he didn't know how well they'd take to the claymore hanging from his hip. Not so pacifistic from the all I've heard though. Hordes and armies didn't disappear to a bunch of woodland bumpkins. He turned to the mouse beside him.

"So, you also new to these parts aye? Well met mate, Risky's the name." He stuck out a paw and affixed a friendly smile.

[Liam]

"I'm Liam," the mouse said a bit hesitantly, taking the stoat's paw and shaking it. This was unfamiliar territory for him, and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel. Risky seemed to be pretty cheerful, and that was also shaking up his head. 

"I've been around here before, though not for quite a while," he continued, sizing up Risky. He was unarmored, though by no means undefended; the stoat sported a claymore, and looked like he could use it well. Something that he was going to have to pay attention to.  "I thought I'd stop by, since I happened to be in the area. What about you? Are you new to this area?"

[Luna Broadblade]

"Do you need any help setting up?"
"Aye, I'd be happy to help with a cause so noble as a feast."

With no set response to that, Lorne decided to hold off on answering. Instead he started opening the gate to let them in. It really shouldn’t be closed as is, though with the festivities it wasn’t unreasonable to assume nobody would be on guard duty… Oh dear, he might be making a mess of things. Well, there was little to be done about it now.

He scurried over to greet them in person, just in time to hear them make introductions. So the stoat’s name was Risky, and the mouse was Liam. Lorne made a quick mental note of that. Best not to mix those two up.

“I’m sure the help would be appreciated,” Lorne began. “But I’m also sure that introductions would be in order first. Yer strangers after all, and it would be inhospitable to put you to work without first talkin’ to someone in- someone more senior than me.”

Lorne briefly stumbled over his words. Hopefully they didn’t-

His eyes caught on the claymore hanging from Risky’s hip. His smile felt a little strained as he turned his attention to this development.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to ask ye both leave any weapons at the gatehouse. We’re a peaceful community, an’ find that a large number of weapons in the Abbey just leads to trouble.”

A simple but firm request. Yet if they pushed the issue…

“If ye like, I can fetch the Abbess for ye. Give ye a chance to talk to someone who’s in charge of the festivities, and can direct ye to where ye’ll be most useful.”

[Jess]

Bardineta always found feast and festivity days to be stressful. Everything happened at once; so many creatures from both inside the Abbey and outside its walls all milling around, getting in each others' way, confusing issues and making things far more complicated than they ever needed to be. Bard liked things organised. One thing after another, slowly but surely, we'll get there in the end and everything will be fine. If she'd had her way, everything would have been organised and set up weeks ago, but the Abbey as a whole wouldn't have it. Tradition was important, after all. It was just a pity, the mouse reflected, that tradition was so often stupid.
For the moment, she was taking a stroll out towards the walls in an attempt to briefly escape from the madness which was reigning within the Abbey before she had to return to the job of organising, of delegating, of answering a thousand and one questions at once. And yet it seemed that even here, she had responsibilities, and people wanted her to do things. The mouse sighed inwardly. So much to do, so little time to do it in, and certainly no space for rest. Not for the Abbess of Redwall Abbey, the mouse who was supposed to know what was going on but was in reality being rapidly overtaken by events. Still, there was no time for existential crises while such things were happening, and so as she heard her title being mentioned, she took the initiative and walked across to the gates, where a group of creatures seemed to be congregated. "Can I help anyone?" she enquired.