Author:
Stoakly Centurio of II
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Date Posted: 22:23:26 08/22/07 Wed
The brutality of it all was stirring. Redwall Abbey was in ruin, and bodies were spread around the lawn with an endless count. No vermin horde had ever taken over Redwall, but this time, it was very close. Stoakly stood on the ramparts, his leg bloody from the previous battle. The ferret gazed out over the lands of Mossflower, taking careful steps; parts of the rampart wall were torn off, and he had to hop to get over the gaping holes. His brown tunic was covered in his blood, and the blood of his enemies. To his side was an old friend, Nicolaus Graym, a highland mouse visiting Redwall. They both stood there, wounded, feeling the breeze come over them on that hot summer’s day. Though they had won the battle, it was no victory. Looking for more survivors, the voice of a squirrel rang from behind them. “Is anyone out there?!” Turning, Nicolaus spotted Audrey Goldbrush and smiled. “Ah think there is quite a few o’ us here, y’ken?” He said, and then Stoakly shrugged. “Look for more survivors.” That was all he said.
In the far west gate, his leg crumpled underneath the body of a dead weasel, was a shrew. He panted, leaning back, trying to use his weakened strength to get his leg free. Tysharm’s shoulder was bloody, and there was a deep cut further down his arm. Groaning, he finally shook his leg free, but it was incredibly numb. Using his rapier to push himself up, the shrew finally stood on his paws. Sighing, he leaned against the post of the gate, getting blood over it. “Why?” That was all his breath could muster, and he sounded sick. But he would get over it – he had to. If Tysharm did not get his voice back, heal himself, and get busy looking for other creatures, how would he help save the others? Redwall needed him, and in his brown tunic, the shrew swore to help Redwall until it was safe or he died. His eyes swept over the battlefield. He couldn’t call it a battlefield, for it was his home. This awful field of death was his home.
The battle had many effects for different people, and the squirrel was still on the ground. I’m dying. She thought to herself. It was over. As her eyes began to close, and as she saw the gates of the peaceful Dark Forest, a voice rang into her head. “Wake up, Terragon.” She opened her eyes, alert at last, but still a tad dazed. Was it Ashnel? No, it could not be, the fur was not dark enough. However, it looked like the figure of a squirrel. “Terragon, are you alright?” Came another voice. A ferret was to the left of the squirrel, and they were both looking wounded. Helping her up, the two looked at Terragon with deep concern. Stoakly rubbed his chin; if Nicolaus was to start a team to go find and fight the rest of the vermin, they would need more people. “I’m fine.” Terragon demanded, nodding to Stoakly. “Audrey,” Stoakly chimed in, “Find Nic. I’ll take care of Terragon.” Audrey nodded and smiled, walking off to find the mouse. Though they tried to stay cheerful and optimistic, everyone knew in their hearts that Redwall was just about defeated. It was painful to look at. Friends, family, and some of the most respected elders were down, dead on the ground.
A female otter and a male mole were both walking to the lawn, from the east gate. No words were passed between the two; one was bitter and wanted revenge, and the other was sad, and wanted to see if there were other survivors. Legolas Greenleaf and Tokie the Mole both slowly strolled down the lawn, dodging a dead mouse on the way. “Oi be thinkin’, Miz Leggy, et hasn’t been long since the battler, so thur is prolly some varmints still out thur!” Legolas turned to Tokie, a grave frown on her face. “If there are, they will regret this say!” She swore, but Tokie shook his head and spoke with his mole logic. “Oi think we need to simploi help the Abbey and worry not about revenge, hurr hurr!” Sighing, the otter nodded. “You’re right, Tokie. You’re right.” But deep inside, even Tokie wanted to rid the world of the miscreants who did this to their Abbey. Rubble from the ramparts fell on the wounded to make sure there was no chance of escape, and the others bled to death. What would happen to Redwall Abbey now?
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