When I tried asking people for a word instead of the generator, they gave me things like fishing, mammaries, and kumquat. And that definitely stole my focus from argh how to start, to uhhh sure, let’s just go with that.
They were out on the town, fishing for girls like they did every Friday night.
"Wow!" Riley exclaimed, extending a hand to stop Patrick in his tracks. "Look at the kumquats on her." He blurted excitedly drawing Pat's attention to the woman's generous mammaries.
They were out on the town, fishing for girls like they did every Friday night.
"Wow!" Riley exclaimed, extending a hand to stop Patrick in his tracks. "Look at the kumquats on her." He blurted excitedly drawing Pat's attention to the woman's generous mammaries.
Born shortly after his family’s arrival at Redwall Abbey, Rigby has known only the kindly, often mischievous, and always friendly company of the Abbey dwellers. He roamed its halls and grounds as a dibbun and got into his fair share of trouble. Though he rarely acted as the ringleader, he was always a willing accomplice. His mother swears he’s the cause of every grey fur she’s got. He knows every inch of the Abbey from the high attic loft to the cellars, from the pond to the battlements. He also knows how to coax a tasty midday treat from the cooks and is happy to share his knowledge with the young ones when they start looking for a little adventure or an afternoon snack. Though now he’s more likely to play mediator and offer distractions that aren’t as… foolhardy as his were.
He loves all of it, and all the creatures living within the walls (and without), but his most favourite place to spend his time is in the gatehouse with the Abbey Recorder, discussing the Abbey’s history, well-known heroes, and stories so old the parchment’s started crumbling. The library is nice too, but the Gatehouse comes with guests and the chance to be first to hear the news. He has a very good memory and learned from his mother the art of telling a proper story, so he was making good use of that skill even as a dibbun but has grown into the role of entertainer at gatherings and feasts or whenever the dibbuns can coax him into sharing the newest story he’s learned. He’s just as happy to copy out the older records or jot down a note or two about their latest visitor, should it seem appropriate. He even got to write the official record of the last Nameday celebration, with supervision, of course.
His parents were wanderers who’d heard of Mossflower and Redwall during their travels, as well as many other tales they livened the hearth with many a winter’s evening, and though they’d visited it a few times before settling down, it was only after Rigby was born with a missing leg that they decided to stay on. Both for his sake and for the rest of their family since none of them were growing any younger, though he adapted quite handily despite their worries. He doesn’t seem to have inherited much of their wanderlust, though he’s always liked stories about travelling the best, and he does occasionally dream about leaving the Abbey walls and going to visit at least one of the places he’s heard about. Just to experience it, of course: trekking through the woods, or over the hills, or under the hills, wouldn’t that be exciting?
He has also, with rather less dreaming and more paws on practice, turned his curiosity to helpful inquisitiveness and learned the rudiments of a good many crafts. Some, like his father’s carpentry, he learned early on to make himself useful. Others, like beekeeping and cooking, he admittedly got into because they interested him, and he’d been hopeful it would involve a mite more taste testing than it does. But after properly realising that he wanted to become the Recordkeeper himself one day, he decided he needed to know a little of everything he could, to better understand the experiences of those figures in the stories, and the daily life that would have happened around them. Thankfully, although he isn’t always good at the chores he’s helping with, everyone’s been a good sport about letting him have a go. If nothing else, it’s certainly given him a fine appreciation of all the effort that goes into a good many things that make life so convenient at the Abbey.
He has been in more routine attendance of the gatehouse and the gate during the last season, and many of the regular Abbey visitors have gotten to know his particular brand of friendly curiosity and welcome and to recognise his slight brown frame and hopping gait as he opens the gate for them. He is most often wearing a green habit and is rarely seen without his crutches or the sling bag his mother made him, so he can keep his paws free. He also, almost inevitably, has a spot of ink somewhere on him by the end of the day, whether on his paws, or his robe, or his head fur.
Rigby hasn’t lost his youthful energy and might well never (he still races with the dibbuns and enjoys a good frolic), but once he’s settled into a task he can be as focused as any beast, with steady paws and a good eye for detail. He’s grown a good head on his shoulders and maintains a practical sort of enthusiasm for anything he might be doing, finding some way of making it fun, or at least, less boring. He’s always eager to lend a paw or a listening ear and has never been one to turn down a challenge either.
I know I've covered all the necessary information, but my mind is still telling me I'm missing all of the everything and I would like it to stop. That, or someone needs to tell me more specifically what I need to add, because ARGH! I just wanna write 'im!
Born shortly after his family’s arrival at Redwall Abbey, Rigby has known only the kindly, often mischievous, and always friendly company of the Abbey dwellers. He roamed its halls and grounds as a dibbun and got into his fair share of trouble. Though he rarely acted as the ringleader, he was always a willing accomplice. His mother swears he’s the cause of every grey fur she’s got. He knows every inch of the Abbey from the high attic loft to the cellars, from the pond to the battlements. He also knows how to coax a tasty midday treat from the cooks and is happy to share his knowledge with the young ones when they start looking for a little adventure or an afternoon snack. Though now he’s more likely to play mediator and offer distractions that aren’t as… foolhardy as his were.
He loves all of it, and all the creatures living within the walls (and without), but his most favourite place to spend his time is in the gatehouse with the Abbey Recorder, discussing the Abbey’s history, well-known heroes, and stories so old the parchment’s started crumbling. The library is nice too, but the Gatehouse comes with guests and the chance to be first to hear the news. He has a very good memory and learned from his mother the art of telling a proper story, so he was making good use of that skill even as a dibbun but has grown into the role of entertainer at gatherings and feasts or whenever the dibbuns can coax him into sharing the newest story he’s learned. He’s just as happy to copy out the older records or jot down a note or two about their latest visitor, should it seem appropriate. He even got to write the official record of the last Nameday celebration, with supervision, of course.
His parents were wanderers who’d heard of Mossflower and Redwall during their travels, as well as many other tales they livened the hearth with many a winter’s evening, and though they’d visited it a few times before settling down, it was only after Rigby was born with a missing leg that they decided to stay on. Both for his sake and for the rest of their family since none of them were growing any younger, though he adapted quite handily despite their worries. He doesn’t seem to have inherited much of their wanderlust, though he’s always liked stories about travelling the best, and he does occasionally dream about leaving the Abbey walls and going to visit at least one of the places he’s heard about. Just to experience it, of course: trekking through the woods, or over the hills, or under the hills, wouldn’t that be exciting?
He has also, with rather less dreaming and more paws on practice, turned his curiosity to helpful inquisitiveness and learned the rudiments of a good many crafts. Some, like his father’s carpentry, he learned early on to make himself useful. Others, like beekeeping and cooking, he admittedly got into because they interested him, and he’d been hopeful it would involve a mite more taste testing than it does. But after properly realising that he wanted to become the Recordkeeper himself one day, he decided he needed to know a little of everything he could, to better understand the experiences of those figures in the stories, and the daily life that would have happened around them. Thankfully, although he isn’t always good at the chores he’s helping with, everyone’s been a good sport about letting him have a go. If nothing else, it’s certainly given him a fine appreciation of all the effort that goes into a good many things that make life so convenient at the Abbey.
He has been in more routine attendance of the gatehouse and the gate during the last season, and many of the regular Abbey visitors have gotten to know his particular brand of friendly curiosity and welcome and to recognise his slight brown frame and hopping gait as he opens the gate for them. He is most often wearing a green habit and is rarely seen without his crutches or the sling bag his mother made him, so he can keep his paws free. He also, almost inevitably, has a spot of ink somewhere on him by the end of the day, whether on his paws, or his robe, or his head fur.
Rigby hasn’t lost his youthful energy and might well never (he still races with the dibbuns and enjoys a good frolic), but once he’s settled into a task he can be as focused as any beast, with steady paws and a good eye for detail. He’s grown a good head on his shoulders and maintains a practical sort of enthusiasm for anything he might be doing, finding some way of making it fun, or at least, less boring. He’s always eager to lend a paw or a listening ear and has never been one to turn down a challenge either.
I know I've covered all the necessary information, but my mind is still telling me I'm missing all of the everything and I would like it to stop. That, or someone needs to tell me more specifically what I need to add, because ARGH! I just wanna write 'im!
Yay! Now I get to badger people about character relationships!
Let's see... Agewise, it feels like it might be Ellis, Zaris, Rigby, Bancroft, but I'm honestly only certain about Ellis. >.> lol The other three all seem to be roughly in the young adult range. Or am I missing something?
@Lord Wraith Methinks Rigby is maybe only a season or two older than Bancroft, or maybe they're the same age... So I do imagine they might have played together when they were younger. So there could be a story or two there (I foresee them getting into trouble, yes, because Dibbuns). And if Bancroft visits regularly then it wouldn't have been that hard to maintain a sense of friendship, at the very least. Unless they started out disliking each other, lol, though they don't seem likely to. Rigby's probably bothered him with farming questions at some point and plied him with tasty food and maybe visited his farm? (so he could ask even more questions, obviously)
@Fading Memory Ellis is gonna be the grampa, isn't he? I'll hazard a guess that Rigby was sore curious about Ellis' hogtwanger as a Dibbun... And he may have tried to wheedle out a taste of some of his brews once he was older (or well, probably as a Dibbun, too, but, y'know, he didn't know what he was asking for then), and his adventures and maybe asked if he could help make one of the ales or something.
@PrankFox Given as these two are probably in close proximity to each other for varying amounts of time almost every day, they ought at least know each other a little. Heh. My first thought was that Rigby absolutely asked if he could try out slinging and somehow managed to break a window, because this just seems appropriate. I'm thinking Rigby probably started, as per usual, with questions and friendliness, but he may have had a few too many questions about things Zaris didn't want to talk about and only apologised for poking at sore points after Bancroft dealt with that vermin attack and he learned first hand how horrible it feels just to hear the news that people you know might be in danger... He would also definitely have asked for help with the gate a time or two. And practiced composing snippets of prose to describe various events so he could have the judgment of a captive audience as to how flowery or properly descriptive his word choices are because unless Zaris makes it clear he does not appreciate the company, Rigby is gonna be spending time very adamantly helping the otter fight the boredom of nothing happening at the gate. Yep.
Rigby and Banny are both probably just a few seasons younger than Ellis’ own son, Grant. This makes it so that there’s probably a decently personal connection between him and all the young folk of the Abbey; he certainly feels at least part the parent to all after the death of his Adelaide. So between growing up a little behind Grant, and the taking of Adelaide by the illness she got, there’s 10000% some grandfatherly vibes going on. I don’t think there’s a dibbun in Redwall who hasn’t been chased out of the cellar!
Grant probably is the one who, once he got old enough to begin learning, would be the one to sneak safer ales to the other friends. Certainly no longer does this- but those two are in the age group he’d probably have included in his mischief.
I like to imagine old Tybalt the Vole is still alive as well, but is blind and pretends he can’t do anything anymore because of it. Certainly a source of sneaky dibbun schemes, that one.
Ahaha, Ellis is a good grandfatherly figure, he is. A source of inspiration for storytelling, a friendly obstacle/clue giver in the way of curious dibbuns trying to find all the hidden secrets of the cellar, and probably well aware of Grant sneaking some bottles to his chums. I can just imagine them being found sleeping in the orchard hidden by some bushes. Hahaha. The old folks reminiscing about their own sneaky trials of ale after rousing the lot and sending them hopping to dishwashing duty with banging heads.
So, probably a bit of grandfathering when Rigby was a dibbun, then mostly interaction through being friends with Grant, and then it's come back to Rigby being old enough to not have that separation between adult and kid awkwardness. Good times.
Tybalt just walking down the hall, minding his own business until he hears someone coming, and then he starts holding out his paws and looking like to walk into the furniture, and it takes a whole season for the young'uns to start wondering how they keep finding him in different places if he's so bad at getting around and doing for himself.
@Nemaisare He'd definitely let Rigby try the sling though it probably would've taken a few times asking to actually get him to and it over. He wouldn't get anything out of him about his tribe and those kind of questions would probably lead to him avoiding Rigby until he'd apologized.
He'd be more than willing to help out with the gate even before the apology since the gate is his job. Once he's spent more time at the Abbey and got closer to everyone he'd enjoy hanging out with Rigby to deal with boredom
@Lord Wraith Methinks Rigby is maybe only a season or two older than Bancroft, or maybe they're the same age... So I do imagine they might have played together when they were younger. So there could be a story or two there (I foresee them getting into trouble, yes, because Dibbuns). And if Bancroft visits regularly then it wouldn't have been that hard to maintain a sense of friendship, at the very least. Unless they started out disliking each other, lol, though they don't seem likely to. Rigby's probably bothered him with farming questions at some point and plied him with tasty food and maybe visited his farm? (so he could ask even more questions, obviously)
I definitely see them as being friendly and former trouble makers together. Makes sense the mice would run amok together. I'd imagine that friendship would continue into their 'adulthood'. Would be interesting to see Rigby out on the farm just watching everyone breaking up the earth with their tilling tools and plows and sort of shocked at the amount of work that goes into growing enough grain to keep the Abbey fed.
@PrankFox Zaris regrets finally giving in... lol No more sling practice for Rigby. Using Zaris as a way to teach Rigby to be more circumspect and thoughtful in his questioning curiousity. He'll probably still have a few moments of not quite thinking things through, but Zaris'll be one reason he considers time and place and how necessary the information really is, as well as being more respectful of the things other beasts may not want to talk about. So I can see them having had an awkward relationship for the first bit of Zaris's time at the Abbey, but maybe it's settled into a more pleasant association now Rigby isn't pestering as much and is just being companionable. ???
@Lord WraithGood mouse friends! He'd definitely have wanted to tag along with Bancroft back to the farm fairly regularly, even as a dibbun since his friend is leaving! How often he's been, if at all before the start of the story, is up for debate though. And much as his parents trust him to look after himself, they'd probably be happier to know he has a destination and other beasts waiting there to look after him too. Though the first time he did/does go along I can just see him being so exuberant about the trip itself, excited to see everything, and then just very much wanting to help in whatever way they'll let him until it's time to head back. There's also the possibility that Lonicera and Rigby's mum became friends while commiserating over their dibbuns' mischievous ways.
@Nemaisare Not until he can not break windows. Maybe go out into the woods if they’re gonna be slinging rocks lol. I can see it. He was injured and distressed during that time so he’d not be inclined towards making friends. Once he stopped prying there would definitely be more of a willingness to be around him and have a friend at the gate
▼ P H Y S I C A L T R A I T S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Build - Treewhiffler ► Fur Colour - Red ► Eye Colour - Grey ► Other - He has a ring pierced into his right ear and has scars on his left shoulder from the pox. -
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
▼ C H A R A C T E R N O T E S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Note He breaks into both Grey and Red Squirrel dialects sometimes He loves mushroom soup He prefers foraging at dusk as opposed to dawn
▼ P A R A P H E R N A L I A ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Birchwood bow A shortbow made out of Birch, usually found slung around his shoulder when not in his hand. He carries a quiver with 12 self-made arrows on his back. The arrowheads sort of resemble pinecones, and he refers to them as such. ► Woodland Tunic Basic handstitched cloth in green and yellow colors, combining it with his fur provides camouflage from everybeast. The hood is too small for him. ► Mark Of The Grey An amulett hung around his neck indicating his mixed history and the tragedies that befell his family.
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C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
It's impossible to tell the story of the Squirrel Ekorrnelius without talking about his parents, his mother Greta The Red and his father Malley O' Grey. What people outside of the squirrel tribes don't know is that there's a great deal of tension between the grey and red squirrels, away from the abbey they squander and fight among themselves and rarely manage to live harmoniously. The greys outnumber the reds, three to one in general population which forces the reds to move habitats when a tribe of grey squirrels move in, the greys tend to keep to themselves which is why we're all far more familiar with red squirrels as the members of many fellowships in tales. Greta was a member of a red tribe, a proud daughter to the tribe's spiritual leader. It was after the battle at Birch Oak hill, far to the east of Redwall Abbey that Greta med Malley Koll, a grey squirrel who had fought against the vermin who had attacked his tribe. Malley was one of few survivors holding onto his life while hiding in a pile of bodies in the mud. Unlike most of his peers, Malley was absolutely worthless with a bow, opting to fight with spear and sword instead.
Mallley was nursed back to health by Greta and it was apparent their relationship was blooming. Such a relationship was seen as highly taboo among their peers which is why their relationship remained secret. Soon they sired a child and their relationship could no longer be held secret. Ekko's grandfather shunned his daughter, but allowed her to stay in the village, and thus Malley came to live with her. When Ekko was half a season old, his mother fell ill. She had contracted the highly contagious squirrelpox. Greta was soon blinded by the pox as it took root in her son, and soon most of the village of Rootstam was blinded, starving and perishing one by one by the pox. See, it isn't just because the Greys are bigger and stronger than the reds that they are overwhelming them in numbers, but also because they are asymptomatic carriers of the squirrelpox gene, in squirrel folk-lore, it is believed the red and greys were once one species but a curse was put upon them, creating the pox and stripping the greys of their red color. The greys, naturally have a altered take on the tale.
Malley quickly escaped the village once he found out that he had given them the pox and has not been seen by another red squirrel since. Ekorrnelius survived the pox without blindness or any permanent effects, sans a few scars on his skin largely because of his mixed heritage. He was shunned by his peers for his father's curse, named Poxborn and exiled from ever living in a red squirrel tribe again. That is how he found his way to redwall where they clergy accepted him with open arms.
In a sense, Ekorrnelius is exactly what you would expect from a young red squirrel. A defender of nature, protector of those who cannot protect themselves, a masterful climber and naturally gifted with a bow. Knows the woods like the back of his hand and can identify just about any fauna on sight or smell alone. He's just entered his young adult phase and with it comes new responsibilities and a desire to shed his past full of grief.
In the abbey, he forages food that they cannot grow themselves, as such it is not uncommon to see the rather large squirrel come carrying large mushrooms or wild berries in droves. He also makes it a point to scout for potential attacks while honing his archery - a task nobody has ever asked him to perform but some of the gatekeeper and other guard personell are thankful for.
D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E
For a seemingly red squirrel, Ekko stands taller than his peers, a few inches taller than any of the biggest red squirrels, yet smaller than any grey squirrels - not that he's met any since he was a kitten - he's incredibly athletic and lean. His tail is fluffy and messy as is the rest of his fur, being well-groomed has never been a priority for him. When he arrived at the abbey as a young boy, the other children sometimes teased him for being stinky, the teasing never stuck enough for him to change his grooming habits.
Beyond bodily size, his eyes are calmly grey and carry a fire within them. Ekko is driven, energetic and deeply empathic to other people's plights, sometimes he prefers to hide it behind a rash surface and stiff body language, yet his true self always cracks through the surface. The squirrel is never seen without his bow and quiver. His clothes are torn, stitched up by himself- some holes were too big for him to patch so he asked one of the maidens at the abbey for help - usually rather dirty and a poor fit as they haven't kept up with his recent growth spurt.
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
Goals: Protect those weaker then him - a goal of just about all red squirrels
Become the greatest bowsquirrel to have lived
Learn more about the conflict between his two heritages
Get accepted back into the red tribes
Find his father
Plotlines:
Archery Contest - Ekko signs up for a friendly competition at Redwall that spirals out of control when he forms a rivalry with a pure blooded red squirrel.
Steal From the Rich Give To The Poor - A Rich noblemen parades around the forest, abusing his power and position to bully the farmers and peasents around Redwall, Ekko plans a heist.
I am no Lionheart - Ekko comes to terms with his paternal affinity for swordplay.
The Grey Knight - He finds out tracks that could lead him to finding Malley and maybe finding answers to putting all of his grief and shame behind him.
It's worth noting that I haven't read the books, only watched a couple of episodes of the TV-show, but everyone else's sheet was a huge help in figuring out the vibe I should pursue, so amazing job on that front guys!
I took some liberties with expanding upon the lore of our acorn-snacking friends, leaning heavily into more traditional wood/dark-elf relations, but I also didn't feel like it was worth it to write an entire bible on tragic history of race war.
Hopefully my rather outside perspective on Redwall will be more of an aid than a hindrance in this game. If anyone else but Wraith has any comments or feedback they'd like to give, I welcome it with open arms.
And yes, I know writers who use spellcheck on their first drafts. They're all cowards.
I have always loved Redwall, though it's been awhile since I read the books. I have a couple ideas of the character I could be. But here's one that might with the party well.
Name: Marigold Yew
Species: Squirrel
History: It was a beautiful summer's day in Mossflower on the day when she was born. Her mother and father both gloried in how healthy and beautiful she was. As they took in her form, they decided to name her Marigold to match the color of her fur. So she grew into a child under her parents' warm love, taking easily to climbing and to her early lessons with the bow. She was shy of others though, even those of her own tribe. She mostly preferred the solitude of a high enough branch to silently watch the world below. Otherwise, she would follow her mother while she gathered safe nuts, berries, and herbs, allowing her mother to teach her daughter how to use some for medicine and what poisons to avoid.
But all that came to a sudden and dark end. While out alone one day, she ran into some vermin scouts. Frightened, she tried to run back to warn everyone else, but the rats caught her and brought her back to their camp. She struggled all day and night, hoping that maybe she could get out or reunite with her parents. But when the next vermin party returned, they brought back most of her tribe enslaved, with the head of her father and mother on spikes for leading the attempt to resist. Marigold froze, then bowed her head and wept, now certain that all hope was lost.
The vermin wandered around, raiding and pillaging from one place to another. All the while, Marigold was carted along behind them, having to slave for them all, especially their captain, Captain Bloody Irontooth, a sour, bloodthristy, clever rat. The rest of her tribe she lost track of, but she became more and more sure by the day that the rest of them were dead. She wasn't quite sure why she wasn't dead as well. But she was, with the numbness that had been overhanging her since seeing her parents' death finally starting to dissipate. An opportunity came to her one night to escape, and she raced forward and took it. She didn't know how long she ran, or how far, but when she collapsed to rest, she found herself no where near the camp. Instead, she was in a glade with a small flowing stream and plenty of food to last her some time. She was free, but now she needed to make sure she was safe.
She managed to roughly fashion some bows and arrows for herself, then set up a place in an old tree hole where she had a good lookout to watch what happened in her glade. Then she made sure to store enough food and water in her home to not have to leave if anyone should trespass in, along with plenty of arrows if an attack should come and herbs and leaves to treat injuries. And with that, she's managed to survive, constantly on the look out for vermin trying to take her while reminding herself each and every day that she's free now, and she'll not be taken so easily again if they tried to take her back again.
Personality: Quiet and Cautious, Marigold takes some time to be coaxed out of her shell. If she suspects there's danger, she'll be completely on her toes. Inside though is a warm, caring nature.
Motives and Goals: Right now, Marigold's only motives are to not be taken again and to try to make a life for herself now that she's all alone. My basic idea for her is that she'll fill the role of the lone hermit that the Redwallians cajole into joining them on their journey. Maybe she'll find out that not all her tribe is dead then be motivated to help them. Maybe the captain she served under could now serve the Yurazen Prince and so she'll be able to strike back at the rat responsible for what happened to her. Maybe she'll step when vermin try to do what happened to her tribe to some other tribe and that's how she joins the story. My goal for her endgame is that she ends up in Redwall, finally able to be at peace and heal while not being alone anymore, helping with treating people in the infirmary.
▼ P H Y S I C A L T R A I T S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Build - Treewhiffler ► Fur Colour - Red ► Eye Colour - Grey ► Other - He has a ring pierced into his right ear and has scars on his left shoulder from the pox. -
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
▼ C H A R A C T E R N O T E S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Note He breaks into both Grey and Red Squirrel dialects sometimes He loves mushroom soup He prefers foraging at dusk as opposed to dawn
▼ P A R A P H E R N A L I A ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Birchwood bow A shortbow made out of Birch, usually found slung around his shoulder when not in his hand. He carries a quiver with 12 self-made arrows on his back. The arrowheads sort of resemble pinecones, and he refers to them as such. ► Woodland Tunic Basic handstitched cloth in green and yellow colors, combining it with his fur provides camouflage from everybeast. The hood is too small for him. ► Mark Of The Grey An amulett hung around his neck indicating his mixed history and the tragedies that befell his family.
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C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
It's impossible to tell the story of the Squirrel Ekorrnelius without talking about his parents, his mother Greta The Red and his father Malley O' Grey. What people outside of the squirrel tribes don't know is that there's a great deal of tension between the grey and red squirrels, away from the abbey they squander and fight among themselves and rarely manage to live harmoniously. The greys outnumber the reds, three to one in general population which forces the reds to move habitats when a tribe of grey squirrels move in, the greys tend to keep to themselves which is why we're all far more familiar with red squirrels as the members of many fellowships in tales. Greta was a member of a red tribe, a proud daughter to the tribe's spiritual leader. It was after the battle at Birch Oak hill, far to the east of Redwall Abbey that Greta med Malley Koll, a grey squirrel who had fought against the vermin who had attacked his tribe. Malley was one of few survivors holding onto his life while hiding in a pile of bodies in the mud. Unlike most of his peers, Malley was absolutely worthless with a bow, opting to fight with spear and sword instead.
Mallley was nursed back to health by Greta and it was apparent their relationship was blooming. Such a relationship was seen as highly taboo among their peers which is why their relationship remained secret. Soon they sired a child and their relationship could no longer be held secret. Ekko's grandfather shunned his daughter, but allowed her to stay in the village, and thus Malley came to live with her. When Ekko was half a season old, his mother fell ill. She had contracted the highly contagious squirrelpox. Greta was soon blinded by the pox as it took root in her son, and soon most of the village of Rootstam was blinded, starving and perishing one by one by the pox. See, it isn't just because the Greys are bigger and stronger than the reds that they are overwhelming them in numbers, but also because they are asymptomatic carriers of the squirrelpox gene, in squirrel folk-lore, it is believed the red and greys were once one species but a curse was put upon them, creating the pox and stripping the greys of their red color. The greys, naturally have a altered take on the tale.
Malley quickly escaped the village once he found out that he had given them the pox and has not been seen by another red squirrel since. Ekorrnelius survived the pox without blindness or any permanent effects, sans a few scars on his skin largely because of his mixed heritage. He was shunned by his peers for his father's curse, named Poxborn and exiled from ever living in a red squirrel tribe again. That is how he found his way to redwall where they clergy accepted him with open arms.
In a sense, Ekorrnelius is exactly what you would expect from a young red squirrel. A defender of nature, protector of those who cannot protect themselves, a masterful climber and naturally gifted with a bow. Knows the woods like the back of his hand and can identify just about any fauna on sight or smell alone. He's just entered his young adult phase and with it comes new responsibilities and a desire to shed his past full of grief.
In the abbey, he forages food that they cannot grow themselves, as such it is not uncommon to see the rather large squirrel come carrying large mushrooms or wild berries in droves. He also makes it a point to scout for potential attacks while honing his archery - a task nobody has ever asked him to perform but some of the gatekeeper and other guard personell are thankful for.
D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E
For a seemingly red squirrel, Ekko stands taller than his peers, a few inches taller than any of the biggest red squirrels, yet smaller than any grey squirrels - not that he's met any since he was a kitten - he's incredibly athletic and lean. His tail is fluffy and messy as is the rest of his fur, being well-groomed has never been a priority for him. When he arrived at the abbey as a young boy, the other children sometimes teased him for being stinky, the teasing never stuck enough for him to change his grooming habits.
Beyond bodily size, his eyes are calmly grey and carry a fire within them. Ekko is driven, energetic and deeply empathic to other people's plights, sometimes he prefers to hide it behind a rash surface and stiff body language, yet his true self always cracks through the surface. The squirrel is never seen without his bow and quiver. His clothes are torn, stitched up by himself- some holes were too big for him to patch so he asked one of the maidens at the abbey for help - usually rather dirty and a poor fit as they haven't kept up with his recent growth spurt.
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
Goals: Protect those weaker then him - a goal of just about all red squirrels
Become the greatest bowsquirrel to have lived
Learn more about the conflict between his two heritages
Get accepted back into the red tribes
Find his father
Plotlines:
Archery Contest - Ekko signs up for a friendly competition at Redwall that spirals out of control when he forms a rivalry with a pure blooded red squirrel.
Steal From the Rich Give To The Poor - A Rich noblemen parades around the forest, abusing his power and position to bully the farmers and peasents around Redwall, Ekko plans a heist.
I am no Lionheart - Ekko comes to terms with his paternal affinity for swordplay.
The Grey Knight - He finds out tracks that could lead him to finding Malley and maybe finding answers to putting all of his grief and shame behind him.
Name: Marigold Yew
Species: Squirrel
History: It was a beautiful summer's day in Mossflower on the day when she was born. Her mother and father both gloried in how healthy and beautiful she was. As they took in her form, they decided to name her Marigold to match the color of her fur. So she grew into a child under her parents' warm love, taking easily to climbing and to her early lessons with the bow. She was shy of others though, even those of her own tribe. She mostly preferred the solitude of a high enough branch to silently watch the world below. Otherwise, she would follow her mother while she gathered safe nuts, berries, and herbs, allowing her mother to teach her daughter how to use some for medicine and what poisons to avoid.
But all that came to a sudden and dark end. While out alone one day, she ran into some vermin scouts. Frightened, she tried to run back to warn everyone else, but the rats caught her and brought her back to their camp. She struggled all day and night, hoping that maybe she could get out or reunite with her parents. But when the next vermin party returned, they brought back most of her tribe enslaved, with the head of her father and mother on spikes for leading the attempt to resist. Marigold froze, then bowed her head and wept, now certain that all hope was lost.
The vermin wandered around, raiding and pillaging from one place to another. All the while, Marigold was carted along behind them, having to slave for them all, especially their captain, Captain Bloody Irontooth, a sour, bloodthristy, clever rat. The rest of her tribe she lost track of, but she became more and more sure by the day that the rest of them were dead. She wasn't quite sure why she wasn't dead as well. But she was, with the numbness that had been overhanging her since seeing her parents' death finally starting to dissipate. An opportunity came to her one night to escape, and she raced forward and took it. She didn't know how long she ran, or how far, but when she collapsed to rest, she found herself no where near the camp. Instead, she was in a glade with a small flowing stream and plenty of food to last her some time. She was free, but now she needed to make sure she was safe.
She managed to roughly fashion some bows and arrows for herself, then set up a place in an old tree hole where she had a good lookout to watch what happened in her glade. Then she made sure to store enough food and water in her home to not have to leave if anyone should trespass in, along with plenty of arrows if an attack should come and herbs and leaves to treat injuries. And with that, she's managed to survive, constantly on the look out for vermin trying to take her while reminding herself each and every day that she's free now, and she'll not be taken so easily again if they tried to take her back again.
Personality: Quiet and Cautious, Marigold takes some time to be coaxed out of her shell. If she suspects there's danger, she'll be completely on her toes. Inside though is a warm, caring nature.
Motives and Goals: Right now, Marigold's only motives are to not be taken again and to try to make a life for herself now that she's all alone. My basic idea for her is that she'll fill the role of the lone hermit that the Redwallians cajole into joining them on their journey. Maybe she'll find out that not all her tribe is dead then be motivated to help them. Maybe the captain she served under could now serve the Yurazen Prince and so she'll be able to strike back at the rat responsible for what happened to her. Maybe she'll step when vermin try to do what happened to her tribe to some other tribe and that's how she joins the story. My goal for her endgame is that she ends up in Redwall, finally able to be at peace and heal while not being alone anymore, helping with treating people in the infirmary.
Happy Squirrel Day!
Really enjoyed both of these sheets and can't wait to see how they fit in with the cast. Both Ekko and Marigold are accepted.
