Kaspiyan
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Post by Kaspiyan on Jun 27, 2017 16:56:26 GMT -5
"I thought I'd stop by, since I happened to be in the area. What about you? Are you new to this area?"
"Best I can figure mate." Risky said to Liam as the gates swung open. He turned as the vole came out, almost apologetically introducing himself. Risky noted the worried flash in his eyes at the sight of his sword, and the voles terse request. With a broad smile he unclipped his sword belt and hung it over his arm, handing it over to the vole. "Certainly mate, I'm your good guest after all.
Handing his blade away felt unnatural to him, but he pushed down the discomfort and stayed cheerful. If anything, the Abbey didn't have a reputation for killing unarmed guests. A new voice called out as he entered the gates.
"Can I help anyone?"
An older mouse stepped forward, and Risky assumed she was someone of authority. He made swept off his cap and made a dipping bow with one arm.
"G'day marm, your fine little fellow here was saying we could find a place to rest our paws here, and we'd both be more than happy to make ourselves useful however we can." He said pleasantly, nodding to Liam as he spoke.
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Liam
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Post by Liam on Jun 27, 2017 17:24:34 GMT -5
"That is correct," Liam said to their new arrival. He removed his short sword, and handed both it and his spear to the vole, remembering the last time he had been at Redwall. The inhabitants were peaceful almost to a fault, but he couldn't blame them - their hard earned reputation of seasons past served to discourage potential attacks by vermin. Once, he might have envied them, but that was a long time ago.
"I can handle just about any task you can give me," he continued, wondering why the greying field mouse looked so familiar. Perhaps she was one of the leaders of the abbey. "I've picked up a lot of skills in my travels. Don't ask me to sew though, because the results," he indicated his tunic, "speak for themselves."
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Post by Luna Broadblade on Jun 27, 2017 17:39:07 GMT -5
"Can I help anyone?"
Lorne nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw it was the Abbess herself who’d stumbled upon their little group.
“Abbess Bardineta,” he greeted. “This is Liam” he indicated the mouse with a wave of his paw. “And Risky.” He indicated the stoat, who was busy unclipping his blade.
For a moment surprise crossed Lorne' features. There had been no objection, or glaring, or any resistance at all.
I must remember not to let my prejudices cloud my judgment, or taint how I interact with others in the future.
It was shameful to think that he might have been less than welcoming to such an agreeable guest. Maybe he really wasn't ready to advance through the Abbey's ranks.
Taking the Risky’s blade first, and then Liam’s, Lorne smiled pleasantly at the little group. It helped him to hide the revulsion he felt at touching the weapons.
“Risky and Liam, this is our Abbess, Bardineta Glister. She’ll take good care of you while you’re here at Redwall.”
With a short bow to the trio, Lorne quickly scurried away, eager to deposit the weapons safely behind locked doors.
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Grath
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Post by Grath on Jun 27, 2017 21:49:32 GMT -5
As his crew engaged the shrews in a race to present their contributions to the feast first, Skipper hung back, bending down, he rescued the flower crown, straightening a crooked bloom or two. "Och, such a handsome crown ye have, laddie. A gift from some lucky lassie, eh?" He presented the crown with all seriousness back to the younger otter. "Ye should keep it then, they're good luck!" he winked, a broad smile lifting his heavy whiskers.
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"Och, lay off! I'm goin'!" Skipper covered his head with his paws, ducking and weaving away from the fearsomely wielded wooden spoon, held aloft by the tiny friar, queen of her domain. "Ow! Ow!" Skipper finally managed to escape, rubbing his elbow as he continued away from the abbey. "Me best spices. An-an-and that friar! No appreciation at all! None! Uncultured barbarian!" he continued to mutter as he wandered, enjoying the warm sunshine and the slight breeze. Solstice Day, and a perfect one at that. Delicious smells fought in the air, all manner of sweets competed with the savoury scent of 'otroot soup, and he could smell the turnips and beets roasting in the coals, preparing to be put into deeper'n'ever pie later. Hearing splashing sounds, he detoured from the orchard, munching a handful of berries that had escaped the earlier harvest. All that hooting and hollering had to be a good portion of his crew, and hearing the higher pitches, probably a goodly amount of GOUSIM as well.
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Post by Jess on Jun 28, 2017 12:27:16 GMT -5
Bardineta watched with some relief as both the newcomers handed over their weapons to the monk without protest. Weapons always made her nervous- at least when they were being wielded by people who she did not know- and she certainly didn't much like the idea of a stranger wandering around her Abbey with a sword strapped around his waist. "Thank you, Lorne." she called after the vole as he hurried off- she had no idea where he was off to and why it was so urgent, but then none of them could afford to waste time today of all days. Speaking of which...
The mouse turned back to the two visitors and dipped her head. "Greetings, gentlemen." she spoke to the strangers while her mind began to panic and twirl once again, frantically trying to remember what needed doing that she could ask these two to help with. The short answer would, of course, be 'everything', but that was of no help to anyone. "I think we've met before, have we not Liam?" she queried, giving herself a little time to think before she was required to actually say anything useful. Bardineta knew very well that they had, but small talk was a blessing in some circumstances.
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Liam
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Post by Liam on Jun 28, 2017 14:23:45 GMT -5
Liam nodded, having suddenly remembered who the mouse was at the mention of her title. "We have, though it's been quite a while. Around a year, maybe two, at least." The Abbess cut a strong figure in his memory; a no-nonsense sort of creature with a sense of humor, though not unkind. She'd laughed at his puns and tricks with words, which was no mean feat. Not every creature appreciated the habit he'd picked up from his master.
"So what is this Name Day all about?" he asked the Abbess in a curious tone. "I'm not very familiar with the holidays you celebrate here, and I was wondering what the feast is for. Not that I'm against eating good food," he added with a slight grin.
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Tirael
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Post by Tirael on Jun 28, 2017 23:46:48 GMT -5
Within the space of a few moments, the single greeting at the gate had turned into a veritable swarm of creatures. Quite frankly, Tirael wasn't sure how to feel about it. On the one hand, crowds made him nervous; there was so much chatter and bustle that the healer felt like shrinking into a corner and waiting out the storm. What with the flower crown incident, that notion felt particularly appealing. Of course, it was that much easier to duck out unnoticed when there were other, more social creatures about to take the spotlight off you, so he supposed he had to appreciate that much.
At first, it seemed to work. He could back away slowly, pretending it was just to make way for the horde of shrews and otters streaming into the Abbey grounds while he made his furtive escape. It was the perfect chance, one Tirael was about to take, when he realized--much to his horror--that the Skipper had stayed behind. His dread only worsened when he saw the older otter stoop to pick up his fallen wreath.
"Och, such a handsome crown ye have, laddie. A gift from some lucky lassie, eh?"
Tirael felt numb. He took the crown as Skipper held it out to him, although the motion was mechanical (he wasn't even fully aware he did it at all). "Umm..." he answered, his ears laying back as he averted his gaze. A group of tittering Dibbuns shouting "High Queen Rhulain Tirael" wasn't exactly a 'lucky lassie,' and at his current self-esteem levels, the otter had to question if any girl who'd taken a shine to him was really 'lucky.' He was already too embarrassed to speak to the Skipper, who was going out of his way to be nice to the healer. If someone actually became romantically interested in Tirael, he'd probably just seize up entirely.
Fortunate, then, that nobeast in the Abbey seemed to see him that way. He'd be totally unable to do his job.
"Ye should keep it then, they're good luck!"
"I...I-I will, then...t-thank you," Tirael stammered, forcing himself to briefly make eye contact with the Skipper once again. The older otter's smile seemed genuine enough, which Tirael found surprisingly comforting. He managed a shy smile of his own, something that those familiar with the healer might have recognized as an even greater sign of his gratitude than his spoken thanks. He watched the Skipper head off to work on the hotroot soup, mulling over their interaction for a few moments before seeming to come back to reality. Tucking one end of the flowery crown into his habit cord, the otter set off for the orchard, figuring he could busy himself by helping to set things up. With any luck, he could do so without any more embarrassing incidents; he hated to think this had set the tone for the entire summer.
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Kaspiyan
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Post by Kaspiyan on Jun 29, 2017 1:35:27 GMT -5
So, this was Redwall. Inside the gates, Risky looked around. The interior space was more spacious than he'd expected, and he was struck by the flourishing diversity of trees and orchards. All around him milled beasts, mice, squirrels, moles, among others. In the distance he could see a gang of shrew mingling with some otters. Gousim I'd take it. The Cradle had had a short skirmish with a Gousim tribe in the southern reaches of Mossflower, the little creatures were impressive scrappers. The otters looked like worthy beasts as well, strong and sturdy. The rest of them looked quite different though. Soft, cheerful, oblivious to how good they had it. A pang of annoyance hit him, it irritated the stoat to see a beasts taking such a privileged life for granted.
He realized he'd been staring into the distance and that he was being addressed by the Abbess. He slipped his hat off and held it in front of him. "If you be needing a pair o' paws to help drag around heavy things in the like, point me in any direction you please marm. I'll be sure to earn my supper, which if the rumors I've heard are true, sounds worth any amount of labor." He said cheerily.
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Post by Jess on Jun 29, 2017 15:00:50 GMT -5
"The feast is to celebrate the naming of the season." the Abbess explained. "Usually they are named after a significant event. We also have sports and games. It's a very old tradition." And like most Redwall traditions, she had no idea why it existed. It simply did.
Bardineta smiled broadly at the two visitors who stood before her. "Well, gentlemen, I am sure that we shall have no trouble whatsoever in finding a task for two strong travellers." Although even as she said it, her mind was frantically going over what still needed to be done in an attempt to think of something suitable. The problem was not that there was nothing for the two to do; on the contrary, the issue was that there was so much to be done that the mouse scarcely knew where to begin. Prioritising was all very well, but when everything really ought to be happening at once then it had little effect. The mouse selected a task at random.
"Perhaps you could lend a hand with bringing some barrels up from the cellars? There are rather a lot, you see- we have many guests." The mouse offered the two a half-apologetic smile. "And then perhaps you could ask the friar whether she needs anything? I assure you, the feast will be well worth the wait."
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Kaspiyan
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Post by Kaspiyan on Jul 3, 2017 3:11:44 GMT -5
The Abbess struck Risky as somewhat flustered and short of words. She compensated well enough though, bringing up a list of various chores that needed to be completed for the festival. Looking around at the bustle of creatures, it seemed that there was certainly no shortage of work to be done, and what was done seemed to be done quite inefficiently. Indeed on observation, most of the tasks being worried over could be significantly improved by some strong leadership and coordinated direction. Of course, such pampered beasts may not be so worried about efficiency. Risky's distaste for them grew.
"Perhaps you could lend a hand with bringing some barrels up from the cellars? There are rather a lot, you see- we have many guests."
"I shall have them up quicker than you can find a roll of cheese marm." Risky bowed low with a dip of his feathered cap. "Who would you recommend I see about rolling up said barrels?" He asked.
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Post by Jess on Jul 5, 2017 14:36:58 GMT -5
Bardineta smiled slightly at the stoat's rather overdone courtesy, but maintained composure nevertheless. It was something which she had had to learn how to do in her time at the Abbey. At first, she had been struck with nerves at the mere thought of talking with every visitor who walked into the Abbey, but it was part of the duties which her position entailed to greet all those who decided to enter the grounds, and so she had had to learn to deal with it. She was no longer worried by conversing with newcomers, and once she had seen someone two or three times, she could generally recall their name.
"I would suggest that you see the cellar keeper." she responded. "Doubtless, you'll find them somewhere in the vicinity of the cellars; dedication to one's role is common in the Abbey. The cellar keeper is better placed to point out which barrels should be used than I; I confess that I have little knowledge of how things work in the culinary areas of the Abbey."
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Kaspiyan
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Post by Kaspiyan on Jul 7, 2017 1:54:57 GMT -5
Easy there mate, no need to overdo it. You ain't talking to the queen of Southsward here. Risky smiled, nodded, and stepped away. He didn't know exactly where the cellars were, but the little mouse looked quite frazzled and he didn't fancy pecking her with questions. He made his way from the gate path and in the direction of the loudest source of noise, all the while looking around. The abbey itself was a fine, solid looking structure that held a certain degree of humble grandeur to it, in truth it was a bit surprising that such an impressive building was around in such a relatively rural place like Mossflower. Towns and villages were few and most creatures lived in smallish communities, yet this mighty citadel stood.
How has it resisted so many attackers? He wondered. Certainly there wasn't any special about its walls, soft sandstone, and there wasn't much for battlements, turrets, bastions, or any other sort of serious defensive structure. Asides from the shrews and otters, the actual abbey residents looked soft, pacifistic, and unused to conflict. He was half sure that Kaspiyan could take the place with a quick surprise strike, yet hordes a hundred times their size had crumbled at its gates. How? He hoped to find out.
The voices got louder as he neared the pond. A gaggle of Gousim shrews and some otters were splashing around, and he recalled seeing some of them hauling loads.
"Ahoy there mates, beggin y'pardons, but I'm a newcomer and it's been suggested I can be of help 'round here. Are you needing some paws?"
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Liam
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Post by Liam on Jul 7, 2017 9:43:28 GMT -5
"Alright then," Liam bowed his head in respect to the Abbess. The cellars were near the kitchens, if he remembered correctly, so there wouldn't be any trouble finding the place. Of course, if it turned out that he was wrong, they could always ask on the creatures that lived here. Except for the little ones the Abbey dwellers called 'Dibbuns'; those rascals were always getting into some sort of hijinks or another. Last time, a simple request of locating the kitchens had ended up with him covered in cherry pie (though it had tasted pretty darn good). Amusing as it was, Liam wasn't looking forward to a repeat performance, this time drenched in strawberry cordial.
"We'll be-," he started, then noticed that Risky had already wandered away. "I'll be off," he amended, a bit shamefaced, and started making his way towards the main building.
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