Roleplayer Guild - Forum Roleplaying Games

((Newcommers more then welcomed. Please see the OOChere.))

The first warm breezes of summer were stirring the spring blooms in the meadows. Sap and new growth on the great trees of Mossflower glistened beneath the dancing sun that made it through the canopy of spread leaves.

In the deep, earthy green, the sun-warmed walls of Redwall Abbey stood as a welcomed contrast; a friendly place beckoning any goodbeast that had need of it.

The river Moss ran somewhere in the distance, cool spring waters slowly, stubbornly resisting the warmpth of summer, and further still; snow still clung to the caps of distant mountains.

There was no denying the change in seasons; and a welcomed change it was. Already, the kitchens of the famous Abbey are preparing its equally famous fare of summer food, and the smell of it carried on the gentle winds with the sounds of merriment from the beasts inside.

It's the season for warm days and long nights filled with feasting, and the gates stand open wide to friends and the needy alike.

__________________
Click the little hatchling to help him grow! (Opens a new window, no worries!)

Henry trudged along the forest path... Light spilled in through the tree’s of the Mossflower... He had heard tales of this place... a lot of history was involved around here, He planned to visit Redwall Abbey, see how much services he could offer before heading off towards Salamanderstorm.
He raised his water skin to his lips and took a gulp.... nearly out. Well he had been hearing a creek for over an hour now so there was water somewhere... He shock his spikes then continued down the track. He wondered down the path somewhat further, and saw the creek through the tree’s smiling he approached it, Henry bent over the river and placed the water skin in the water... that was when he heard it... “Shhh, he can’t see us.”
He stopped confused and looked across the creek looking for the source of the noise, at first he saw nothing then slowly he saw a well hidden mouse in the bushes, “Hello?”
There was no reply from the mouse...
“I can see you...”
The mouse’s face went to a frightened look, “He can see me!”
“Yes... Yes, it’s alright,” A mouse came out from another bush, “Sorry about my friend, we just had a run in with a few of the nastier creatures of Mossflower”
Henry was still bewildered, “Nastier creatures?”
“Yes every place has it’s fair share...”
Now both mice were out.
“Is Redwall around here?”
“Yes that’s where we are going!” shouted the mouse he initially saw.
“He can hear you Morris”
“Sorry Dad....”
Henry smiled, “Well I’m heading to Redwall as well... would you like some company?”

__________________
Away For Three Days

Skipper Grug stood on the bank of the river Moss. His eyes lay west in the direction of Redwall Abbey.

"Aye, times ripe for leavin, we've held it off for as long as we could."
"Aye" The score of otters behind him agreed.

Silently he dived headfirst into the running river, the only thing betraying his entrance was a slight ripple on the surface.

One by one his clan joined him with somber looks on their faces. Nearly a score in all swam down the stream.
They had sad news to bring the goodbeast of the Abbey. The water was refreshingly cool as summer creeped upon Mossflower.
They would make good time if the weather stayed fair, and the feast would be plentiful as well.

__________________

Quick as a flash a gray shadow rushed through the undergrowth of Mossflower. To a predator it would like nothing more than a shadow being cast by the lightly wind tossed leaves far above. To those more familiar to the shape they might have been able to pick out some details if they were able to see it twice, but the shadow did not stop to turn around.

Breathing easily despite her rapid pace, Whisker Lightfoot made all haste to Redwall abbey. Although she had successfully completed her purpose for coming so far from home, she had managed to gain a valid excuse to visit the goodbeasts of the abbey and was hoping to get there with plenty of time before the evening feast. Quick as thought she ran on all four paws with a pace that could only be matched by the good hares of Salamandstron.

Only twice before in her life had she been to the abbey, and although both times were happy well fed occasions she was far too restless to remain in their thick red walls for long. It had been some time since her last visit though, and she had heard that one of her abbey friends had married and had a dibbun now. Whisker could scarcely contain her excitement, for she had been told that the little one was named after her father, the brave explorer Timble Lightfoot. Grinning with delight at this opportunity she sped up and it was only due to her training as a member of the Light Patrol that kept her from plowing right into the prickly back of a hedgehog conversing with two field mice. Tumbling head over paws she landed in an undignified heap, but was quickly back on her paws and brushing the dirt off.

"I do say, that gave me quite the start. Are you alright good chaps?" She asked with good hare manners as she turned to face them. "No one hurt, spick and span, everybeast still tip top?"

A bright spackling of white in the sunlight that filtered through the canopy. It's gone, of course, in the next breath; hidden safely in the shade of the thickening undergrowth.

Silent and methodical, a long colorless ribbon glides stealthily through the Mossflower woods. Pink forked tongue tasting, sensitive jawbone feeling, listening.

There were few more terrible sights in the world then a serpent; unblinknig, coldblooded beasts that they were. If one was lucky; it would be a small, harmless grass snake hunting crickets. But not this one.

As long as a badger was tall, with muscles that moved like oiled cables beneath steel scales. Stealth and grace that bespoke speed and death to anybeast unlucky enough to be considered prey.

But this one wasnt hunting; though nobeast could tell by looking at it. She hadnt encountered any occupants...not yet. Not even by following the long, broad river beside her. Pike and minnows glistened below the surface enticingly, and with every distant ribbit of a frog; the snake's journey-hunger grew.

With a pool of warm sunlight so invitingly over a broad, rough rock, Whitescale noses delicately towards it, looking, watching, thinking. The splashings of a yellowtail decide her, and the snake draws slowly out of the brush to seek her lunch.

__________________
Click the little hatchling to help him grow! (Opens a new window, no worries!)

Lokrun wandered through the trees with no aim. He had been having a good season, thus far. He fished and collected various nuts and berries. His life was perfect or it would be if there was one less abbey in the woods. Lokrun hated the abbey and not without good reason. It had been eleven season since his holt was destroyed and his family slain, yet there was still no help from the abbey. They had sent someone to fetch help, yet none returned to them. The males had held out until the end until it was certain that they would die. Then, they foreced the elders and females to abandon the holt taking the children with them. Unfortunately, the villains caught up and everyone was slaughtered to the last babe. This is the cause of Lokrun's resentment of the abbey.

Yet, with all his hatred towards such an ignorant place, he had to admit that the guardian of Redwall Abbey, Martin the Warrior, was an inspirational figure. Lokrun desperately wanted to become like Martin, with his armor and sword. He had only heard of the sword through stories overheard from travellers, but he assumed it was an amazing weapon.

Lokrun hopped through the trees, heading in the direction of the abbey. He had spent so much time in these woods that he had memorized every detail about the paths and directions. Lokrun stopped when he heard some beasts talking. Upon a closer inspection, he saw that one appeared to be a gray squirrel. Next to the squirrel was a hedgehog and two mice. Lokrun gripped his stout yew stave tighter as he held it ready. If need be, he would defend himself from these creatures. He was not trusting of others since the tragedy eleven seasons past. Lokrun squatted closer to the branch as he observed the scene playing out below him.

__________________
"If life were a dream, you just made it a nightmare."

http://roleplayerguild.com/f15/eternal-hell-8290/

The river was refreshingly cold to the approaching summer heat. The band of otters new the river like their own hands, every knock and every bend it took was known to them. Few things went by their methodical vigilance of it, few still was any beast wanting to harm another along it's banks or on the River Moss itself.

Ever so often one would see the glinting as an otter surfaced for air before falling back into line on their journey. Skipper Grug was making decent time, they might make it to the Abbey with three dawns of the sun.

Something odd was present though in this particular neck of the river. It was strangely quite, and stranger still was the occupant of the bank. One of the leading scouts relayed the message to Skipper, he was mighty doubtful of the claim of a pale adder along the bank. Never the less he passed the news on and the tribe armed themselfs, one couldn't under estimate such frightening beast.

__________________

The pale granite rock was warm enough to be a draw to the snake, coiled there on top of it. The spray of the colder water didnt quite reach her.

Body looped, only her long neck extends; head hovering over the shallows of the river. Her forked tongue flicks once, twice, thrice; tasting the chill of the water and the shivvering movements of the ripples.

The snake didnt suspect she'd been observed, clearly, or else it would've moved back intothe seclusion of the brush; sneaky beasts that they were.

Her movtive becomes clear a heartbeat later. A flash of movement; Whitescale's head dives into the water with the strength of her neck behind it. The temperature is a shock to a creature with no fur or warm blood, and she draws her head back sharpley with a hiss.

Blood colors her scaled lips, and the forked tongue flicks out to clean. Her quarry, a perch, wallows away into the depths missing half of its tail and a good portion of flesh, but the fangs had failed to bite deeply enough into the slippery fish.

With loose fishscales and the taste of blood in her mouth, Whitescale is hungry, and coils again there on the bank like a menacing statue.

__________________
Click the little hatchling to help him grow! (Opens a new window, no worries!)

Swimming as stealthy as one could achieve around the bend in the river the score of otters took to the opposite bank, just in case the beast was not of the friendly persuasion. Skipper Grug and his tribe readied slings and pikes if the situation turned violent.

The Skipper knew he couldn't lust let an adder wander willy nilly around Mossflower, even if it was a rather peculiar color. He also knew one couldn't be so sure of other beasts alliances, for all he knew this creature was friendly. Best not take any chances though.

"Oi Snakey! Whatya be, goodbeast or vermin?" Yelling from the opposite bank was bound to get the pale snakes attention. Grug had already readied his own sling if the answer was not to his liking.

__________________

((OOC: You know, this is the second time FringedWolf has left me hanging -.- Sorry about this Darcaine but I want to be able to post... >.< ))

As the beasts in front of her responded that they were okay Whisker heard a small branch break above her. Instantly on the alert her paw flew to the pommel of her rapier as she spun around and looked up into the trees. It took her a few moments to make out the shape of the red squirrel but when she finally did she addressed him. "I say good chap, you gave me quite the fright. Is there something I can help you with?"

__________________

Vampirates: Probably THE best webcomic I've seen in AGES!
My Dragon Cave Scroll: Help them grow up! Click on em ! ^^ (you know you want to)
My current RPs
Undiscovered World (Advanced)
Meeting of the Lions (Advanced)
Dragon Dayze (Casual)