[CHAR] The Yurazen Prince - A Tale of Redwall

_{Dedicated to the memory of Brian Jacques...}

T H E Y U R A Z E N P R I N C E

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^{A T A L E O F R E D W A L L}

A C C E P T E D C H A R A C T E R S:

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◼ BANCROFT, SON OF GEOFFREY - A young mouse played by Lord Wraith
◼ BROTHER RIGBY - An abbey born mouse played by Nemaisare
◼ EKORRNELIUS POXBORN - A forager squirrel played by Hillan
◼ ELLIS OF THE TAP - An aging hedgehog played by Fading Memory
◼ MARIGOLD YEW - A squirrel from outside the abbey played by Cyrania
◼ ZARIS STREAMCUTTER - A young otter played by PrankFox

N O T A B L E N O N - P L A Y E R C H A R A C T E R S:

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◼ ABBOT MURTY - A very elderly mole, Abbot Murty was a dibbun during the time of Abbot Thibb and Razzid Wearat.
◼ BROTHER JETHRO - A vole and member of the Abbey Order. Brother Jethro currently acts as the Abbey's Gatekeeper.
◼ CINEREOUS - A vulture from Yurazea. Cinereous is the personal herald of the Yurazen Prince.
◼ FRIAR RUDDY - A river otter and member of the Abbey Order. As the friar, Ruddy overlooks the preparation of food and management of the Abbey's stores.
◼ FERRET, FOX AND STOAT - An as of yet unnamed trio of vermin who have come to Redwall hoping to partake in the Name Day Feast. The ferret and stoat are both males while the fox is female.

O R G A N I Z A T I O N S I N M O S S F L O W E R:

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The Guerilla Union of Shrews in Mossflower or Guosim (pronounced [gaw-səm]) is a group of nomadic shrews that traverse Mossflower Woods and the surrounding country. They are water creatures that typically use logboats on the many streams and tributaries for transportation. An argumentative and indecisive bunch, they are nevertheless deadly in battle and never unwilling to help Redwall Abbey's residents or other good creatures, and often act as transportation, crew, or bodyguards. Their numbers can vary, ranging from five hundred to less than fourty.

The weapons of choice for the Guosim are small, deadly rapiers, they also use bows, and slings. They often wear brightly-coloured headbands. The shrews love to eat, and Guosim cooks are considered to be some of the best in Mossflower, being known for their Shrewbread and Shrew Beer.

Vermin often describe the Guosim as "rivermice."

The Guosim are always led by a Log-a-Log, a tough shrew who commands the bunch and is usually a bit more relaxed and less quarrelsome than the average tribe member. Guosim law states that if a Log-a-Log is murdered, his death must be avenged, and the shrew that successfully avenges his death becomes the next Log-a-Log.

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The Long Patrol is a specialized, elite army of hares that live at Salamandastron and are commanded by the resident Badger Ruler of the mountain. As a military faction, they are divided into a specific hierarchy of rank and function. Though hares have served under a badger at Salamandastron for as long as anybeast can remember, it was the first modern badger lord, Brocktree, that organized them into an actual regiment that became henceforth known as the Long Patrol. Prior to the name "Long Patrol", the fighting hares of Salamandastron were called "Stonepaw's Stalwarts."

The Long Patrol has seen many different levels of size and organization over the seasons and reached a peak in the time of Russano the Wise, who commanded a force of more than a thousand hares. The size has fluctuated constantly with different Badger Lords. Under Rawnblade Widestripe and Boar the Fighter there were only about ten, and under Urthstripe the Strong there were approximately forty. However, Sunflash the Mace and Brocktree were both said to have had large numbers. Since the time of Lady Cregga Rose Eyes, the Long Patrol has consistently numbered around a thousand in the mountain.

Hares of the Long Patrol are perilous in battle and are feared by vermin everywhere. Though they are occasionally lazy and almost always eat a lot, the hares are good creatures whose goal is to rid the world of evil.

[Lord Wraith]

C H A R A C T E R S U B M I S S I O N S:

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For a character submission, I'm not going to be providing a skeleton and instead leaving the formatting of your application open to you the player. This way, you can use your skeleton as a way to tell us about your character even further. Basically, what I'm looking for is a character concept, obviously, we need the basics like name and species, but more importantly, I want a brief synopsis of who this character is, why you want to play them, what they will bring to the team and any goals you have for them.

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Names in the world of Redwall are fairly straightforward and often under the pen of Brian Jacques, were generally meaningful to the character. Some species, such as the Otters and Hares, often carry family surnames, while Badgers more often have titles, especially Badger Lords. Squirrels, Mice and Moles all have more traditionally given and surname structures.

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The below species are the only ones that will be considered for a primary character in this RP. NPCs and supporting cast may be added later as the story is fleshed out and these will be able to draw upon the wider world of Redwall including vermin and birds. In order to keep the cast balanced, sheets will not be accepted on a first-come, first-serve basis and instead evaluated for compatibility with the overall story and other accepted characters. Certain races, such as Badgers, Hares and Otters, there will be limited quantities available to players as these races are larger and stronger than the others and often aren't numerous at Redwall due to belonging to tribes or in the case of Badgers, ruling Salamandastron.

- - - - - - B A D G E R S	Standing well over a head taller than both their loyal Hares and the friendly Otters, Badgers are among the largest beasts to reside in Mossflower. Often few in number, badgers are greatly territorially, and it is uncommon to find more than one in the same place unless they have a family. Compared to other beasts, their lifespans are notably longer, matching their towering size as Badgers are the only beast to measure their own age in years instead of seasons. In addition to their size, Badgers are tremendously strong, often wielding weapons and armour that other beasts would find difficult to lift, let alone use. They are master smiths, with a Badger Lord having been responsible for forging the legendary Sword of Martin the Warrior. However, more so than any other beast, Badgers have been plagued with suffering from the ‘Bloodwrath’, a terrible and dangerous infliction that drives the afflicted into a berserker-like while at the height of battle. When a Badger’s eyes turn red, it is best to stay out of their way as nothing can stand in the way of a badger suffering from Bloodwrath. Imbued with a tremendous sense of honour and duty, Badgers have long been respected by other fair beasts and often have ruled over Mossflower Woods from their former ancestral home of Brocktree. A familiar sound to all badgers is the call of the mountain fortress Salamandastron, standing watch against raiders on the western shores. It is said that there must always be a Badger Lord in Salamandastron and for many seasons there always has been. Those that find themselves called to the position serve with wisdom and dignity. But beyond warriors, Badgers often tend to be scholars or guardians of peaceful beasts, readily accepting a protector role. As an example, Redwall Abbey is scarcely found without a Badger Mother tending to its mischievous dibbuns. As a general rule, all badgers strive to uphold a personal code of honour, but there are those that are willing to do anything to protect their companions.
H A R E S	Hares are tall and lanky creatures, with flopping ears and scut tails. Their fur can be either brown or white, with dark, glinting eyes. Their infamous appetites typically have no mark on their frames, as they remain thin, spare, and sometimes even scrawny. Hares are jovial and jocular creatures, using their lighthearted attitudes to hide a disciplined, tough, and sometimes bloodthirsty fighting beast inside. They live life to the fullest, usually by eating vast amounts of food. It is said that to invite a hare to dinner is to invite a living famine! Many hares have ties to the famed and decorated Long Patrol, the fighting force that defends Salamandastron. Even the hare family that lives more than a month's travel away will show the influence of the military lifestyle, be it in speech or attitude. Hares also hate to be called rabbits, as their unfortunate foes are quick to discover.
H E D G E H O G S	Hedgehogs are shorter and stockier with a coat of spikes on their back, serving as both armour and a weapon when they curl defensively. They are usually either a toasty or dark brown, with long snouts and solid builds. Hedgehogs are not usually warriors, preferring peaceful life, usually involving brewing their own drinks, to fighting. However, when the need arises, they can be competent fighters and stalwart companions. They share a love of life, food, and drink.
M I C E	Mice are the most common inhabitant in Mossflower Woods and have occupied the area since time immemorial. Mice are of average height and build, with fur colours ranging from tawny to dark brown. Their tails aren't as long as those of rats and are a soft pink colour. Their eyes are usually brown. Mice are a widespread and determined race in Mossflower, filling whatever need needs filling. Many warrior mice take on direct battle or leadership roles, while others prefer to remain stealthy and work quietly to sabotage the foebeast. Mice are typically upright, honourable beasts, eager to help those in need.
M O L E S	Moles typically have black fur and always have large digging claws. Their eyes are small and bright, and their faces easily crinkle into large grins. They are shorter than most other beasts, even hedgehogs. Yes, the accent is usually required. Moles are smart, sensible, and practical, often providing a supporting role in large forces. They are at home underground, and hate heights and large bodies of water; they get seasick easily. Their judgement and reasoning make them valuable allies. They are also famously fond of the dish known as deeper'n'ever pie.
O T T E R S	Otters are tall and usually brawny, built for swimming. Their rudders (tails) are broad and powerful, and some have even used those as weapons. They have long, thick fur which is usually dark brown or almost black. Otters are jovial and friendly when not fighting, but dangerous opponents when roused to battle. They are a passionate race, going over both ends of the spectrum. An otter loves what he or she loves greatly, but if they swear vengeance on a foebeast, they will not stop until they are satisfied. Among the things they usually love are rough-housing, swimming, and the famously spicy shrimp 'n' hotroot soup.
S H R E W S	Shrews are small, boisterous beasts, with spiky grey fur and bright, narrow eyes. Their voices are gruff and well made for shouting and arguing, which they're famous for. Shrews are noisy, lively, and love to "debate", but it usually just means shout at each other until a minor scuffle breaks out. Despite their belligerent tendencies, they are always willing to help beasts in need, especially if it involves fighting. In battle, they are fearless and self-sacrificing, never willing to let a comrade die, or at least die alone.
S Q U I R R E L S	Squirrels are thin and rangy creatures, with bushy tails and red fur. Their ears are sharply pointed, and their front teeth are slightly larger than most other creatures'. Squirrels are among the more serious beasts of Mossflower, taking their warrior traditions very seriously. Numerous families have a specific ancestral tradition, usually that of an archer. They refuse to bear witness to injustice and bring down "the wrath of the woodland" on any who would bully the weak. They are loyal companions in battle, and squirrel archers are known as being the best in the world.
V O L E S	Voles are diminutive of frame and tail, preferring to keep to the shadows rather than risk their hides in an open fight. Their faces are short, as are their paws. Similar in stature and size to a mouse, a vole is most easily identified by its smaller, recessed ears and narrow eyes. Voles often tend to be more rotund in frame, though this isn't always necessarily true. Voles are not as common as mice but exhibit a similar personality type. Some families live near rivers, and many reside at Redwall Abbey. Voles tend to remain out of pitched battle, as they like their fur where it is, thank you very much. Somebeasts even call them cowards, but they haven't met a cornered vole. When not stealing what needs stealing, voles can be found enjoying a simple life at home.

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The largest component of a character submission and arguably, the most important is the background. This should detail where your character comes from, any occupation they hold at the abbey and any relevant skills or training they might have. It should be noted that abbey dwellers primarily fall into two categories, orphans from Mossflower Woods who have been brought to the abbey to live there or those who were born and raised in the abbey. Characters who primarily dwell outside of the walls live in the surrounding areas and settlements with their families, tribes etc.

Redwall Abbey is a peaceful place and as such, weapons training is not something they teach. Any prior skills with a weapon should have come from outside of the abbey walls or can be picked up in the IC.

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The last component of the character submission that I'm looking for is why you have an ambition to play the character you've created and your goals for playing them. Are you hoping to be the next Badger Lord of Salamandastron?The Abbey Warrior? Maybe your ambitions are to be the Abbey Friar or you're looking to join the Long Patrol. All of these goals and ambitions matter because they give the GMs more material to work into the story to help keep you the player invested in developing your character.

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[Lord Wraith]

B A N C R O F T
B A N C R O F T

^{"What I wouldn't give for a good old beaker of cold cider right now."}

C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________ _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________ Bancroft 'Banny' or 'Croft', son of Geoffrey _________________________________________________________ Three Seasons | ♂ | Mouse _________________________________________________________ Single | Communal Farmer P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E _________________________________________________________ [+] ▼ P H Y S I C A L T R A I T S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Build - Athletic ► Fur Colour - Tawny Brown ► Eye Colour - Black ► Other - None - 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 - Related Information ▼ P A R A P H E R N A L I A ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Scarlet Scarf - A scarlet red scarf that previously belonged to Bancroft's late father. ► Hatchet - A standard tool around the farm, Bancroft often keeps his hatchet holstered on the back of his belt. ► Knife - A curved, sickle-like utility blade used around the farm, short and more tool than a weapon, it rarely leaves his person. ► Quarter Staff - A simple hardwood staff, used more for walking and balancing than anything else. ▼ S U P P O R T I N G C A S T ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Geoffrey Fieldmouse (Deceased) - Bancroft's father, farmer and adventurer. He was killed by an adder with only his scarf being delivered to his remaining family. ► Lonicera Fieldmouse - Bancroft's mother, former initiative of Redwall before instead being wed to Geoffrey and becoming a farm mouse. ► Hoyt Tidebreaker - A sea otter who has lived a full life. A former captain, he's living out his grayfur years retired in Mossflower. ► Riker Roddingahn - A brown rat from a community near Redwall. He and his family are partners to the Fieldmouse farm and work amicably alongside the Fieldmice. ▼ O T H E R ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Other - Description/Relevance -

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 ________________________________________________________________________________________ An adventurous young mouse, Bancroft is on the cusp of adulthood. He spent the first season of his life living outside of the Abbey walls in a nearby farming community under the care of his father and mother. His father, a fieldmouse by the name of Geoffrey, oversaw the work of the family farm located to the East of Redwall Abbey. His farm fed not only their local community but also traded with Redwall Abbey for honey and Salamandastron in thanks for protection. Unfortunately, this also led to Geoffrey's demise. Due to several consecutive ongoing battles with the toad tribes that lived along the western shores, Geoffrey and his farmhands were forced to change their delivery route to travel North through Mossflower Woods, instead of West past Redwall Abbey. While Mossflower Woods is generally peaceful, it is not without its own threats and its sprawling woodlands hold many vermin. It however was not vermin that led to Geoffrey's death but instead a dangerous adder that had travelled from the East and found Mossflower to be a flourishing hunting ground. Salamandastron had dispatched a unit of hares to meet Geoffry, but the Long Patrol was too late to save Geoffrey and instead, an Officer returned only Geoffrey's tattered scarf to the homestead where Bancroft and his mother, Lonicera, were eagerly awaiting Geoffrey's return. Without Geoffrey or his farmhands and with Bancroft barely being a dibbun, Lonicera found the workload of the farm to be overwhelming and reached out to Redwall Abbey for help. The Abbey took Lonicera and Bancroft in, aiding in keeping the farm running and helping to raise and support Bancroft. Growing up, Bancroft often heard tales of his father the hard worker and the protector of their community. Though his mother forbid Bancroft from ever wielding a weapon, Banny learned to handle the tools of his trade and assisted in repealing at least one vermin attack on the same farm. A regular at Redwall Abbey, Bancroft does what he can to assist the community when he makes a delivery. 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 ________________________________________________________________________________________ A mouse of average height, with an athletic build from years of working around his family's farm. Due to this, Bancroft is a strong and hardy mouse, stronger than the average members of his species and an agile and capable climber. The young mouse is rarely seen without his father's crimson scarf wrapped around his neck and often a thick pair of belts holding both a loose-fitting pair of trousers at his waist along with his tools. His wrist and ankles are often kept wrapped for additional support and to avoid strain especially when helping with supply runs. Coated in a tawny brown coat with a cream-coloured underbelly that starts from his chin, Bancroft appears to be in good health with a shiny coat aside from dust and straw that often clings to his fur. His ears are often perked above his head and are full and round with no notable knicks or damage. His eyes are full of life, often radiating mischievous energy when not peering at his surroundings with an overwhelming curiosity. P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) ________________________________________________________________________________________ With Bancroft, I'm planning on telling a coming-of-age story. As the Sword of Martin the Warrior is taken from the Abbey, he'll see it as an opportunity to prove his maturity by helping retrieve it. While I'm not against Bancroft growing to be an Abbey Warrior, it's not the true goal of his character arc and instead, I want him to grow beyond the shadow of his father who has become almost a mythological figure in his life. There definitely is a desire to introduce the adder who killed Geoffrey so Bancroft can seek revenge against the snake. Additionally a reintroduction to the Long Patrol officer who brought Geoffrey's scarf to the grieving family and of course a journey to Salamandastron.

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[Fading Memory]

Ellis of the Tap

A Hedgehog, bulky for his species, gone soft around the edges from a life of wines and ales oversampled and overindulged. Do not mistake his softness for lack of strength nor his greying sheen for feebleness of mind (though, admittedly, a certain eccentricity does grip him); Ellis is every bit as able-bodied as the next beast. His age has slowed, but not stopped.

His role in the Abbey is that of the Cellarkeeper, formally, though in seasons past he has taken it upon himself the mantle of an Adventurer, Minstrel, Chef, Husband, and Parent. His experiences and adventures take the form of poem and song- many of the younger generations at the Abbey presuming that they are mere whimsy rather than recollections of truth.

He is gripped by a powerful and total sense of duty and obligation, the Abbey Charter as well as a personal sense of morality guiding him to do right by anybeast and everybeast whenever possible. He is slow to anger, quick of wit, and cool of judgement- but wanton destruction, waste, and insolence are things that others ought to be educated on! He is motivated heavily by this sense of duty; he will certainly take it upon his shoulders to accomplish a task should the need arise, and often others must see to it that he rest or stop as, despite his vigor, he is truly not as young as he once was.

He is also exceptionally motivated by a desire to teach and guide those younger than he in the ways of the world and of the self. There are many lessons of life to be gained from the profession of Cellarkeeper and from the life of one such as he, and he is keen on sharing them! Father as he is to his one son, he is also often seen in the presence of the dibbuns telling them a story or playing out a song on his hogtwanger for their benefit.

Despite the betrayals and conniving behaviors he has met in the past, he is quick to trust and holds the Abbey Charter to heart; stay your paw, extend compassion, and be a brother to all. It is a great strength, but also a great weakness.

As for possessions? Brother Ellis is someone who owns a great many things; a sturdy saucepan of many seasons age he cherishes, a hogtwanger maintained with love, the knowledge and tools of The Craft (as he refers to the brewery trade), as well as many other odds and ends he'd collected in his travels and seasons at the Abbey. He prays he never has need of the dusty spear he keeps concealed in the cellars, hidden away from prying dibbun hands!

A Histry

Hark, listener, to these words!
They carry within them a warning of old
A warning, dear listener, of a dibbun so bold!
This youth, this youth, oh this blessed youth!
Nary a thought nor caution was felt
Nary a grown'un nor mother was behel't

This little one was reckless, tis true!
This little one was a fool, too!
He feared not a bruise nor scratch-
But the rumble of the stomach was too much for the lad!
If ye learn anythin' from this tune, let it be
'do not be bad!'

For this little one, a proper rascal indeed
A dibbun of mischief and merriment and greed
Once, dear listener, if the story can be told
Ran into mossflower wood through a gap in the gate
The East Gate!- Lest my memory grow old
Out the East Gate did this dibbun meet Fate.

Fate, oh Fate!, is an old, old, friend.
Fate will take you by the hand
Fate will guide you!
Fate will e'er stay true!
Fate will blind you!
Fate bears no stew!

Nay, that lad, hungry as 'e was
Found not a meal hiding in the wood
Instead, dear listener, he found a chance to do good.
He came across a maiden so fair!
So fair, indeed, that this dibbun understood
That some things, dear listener, are more important than food.

Danger was afoot in that stretch of wood
a Rat was hunting that maiden so fair
The dibbun, bold as the sun
Took 'er hand in his and set out at a run!
Redwall, he cried, will keep you safe!
Redwall! Redwall! Oh, blessed fate!

They ran, they swam, they bounded, they leapt
The great Rat's nose sniffing as they went!
Soon the great Abbey walls rose in their eyes-
But the vile rat soon would have them as his prize
If not for the walls! Oh Redwall, Oh Redwall!
The Walls of Redwall and its great tower Bell!

The Rat leapt from hiding, scooped them young'uns up!
But right as he did, the bell was struck!
The spirit of Martin rushed to their aid!
The Warrior of Redwall always saves the day!
While battle was set, the Dibbuns made their haste!
For within the walls of Redwall, there was dinner to taste!

But alas, dear listener, that dibbun so bold
Had failed his mother, and the father abbot, so cold.
For he had worried them! He was bound to be scolded!
As for the maiden? What more is to be said?
In Redwall she found a home, a hearth, a bed.
In Redwall she found family, warmth, and bread.

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"Ollie Elly, wontcha sing us annutha singy-songy? Tis gon' be rainywet soon-nuff and marm won' let us playwise." One Dibbun crowed, the young squirrel positively clambering in his seat with uncontained energy. Another seconded his call, and a third followed suit- and soon Ellis found himself barraged by the wanting cries of the children as he idly strummed upon his hogtwanger with the mirthful movements of his head.

"That depen's little 'un." The Hedgehog grumbled in his deep and soft tones. "If the rain is coming, doesn't that mean you lot have some cleanin' to do?" His words birthed a chorus of protesting groans, which warranted a gentle gesture of shushing from his outstretched paw.

"I will take that as a yes!" He laughed as he assuaged their resistances. "But tarry not, fair dibbuns, for my stories are old and remember'd well enough. I'll not forget the next song before dinner tonight. Tis a promise and a deal; keep things tidylike, and Ellis will sing you another for true."

"The Bold!" The squirrel cried. "Singysongy about thassa boldlike hodgypodge!"

"The bold?" Ellis queried, mirth in his eye as he feigned a thoughtful ignorance. "I do believe you mean 'The Old', eh?"

"Nay!" A young gel- a mousegirl- cried. "The Bold! Issa tale about Martin, memorywise!"
"Aye! Ollie Elly hassa remember it!"
"The Hodgypodge and the maid, wissa vole and shrew an-"

"Ah!" He interrupted them, laughter rising from deep within. "The tale of Sille The Bold and the Fox!" The Hedgehog rose, lowering his spikes and relaxing the instrument in his arms, as he ushered the dibbuns to their tasks. His bulk shook in the vestiges of laughter as the children bumbled off, but his eyes were gazing to some far-off place. Some place far back in the reaches of time, and far off across the wood of Mossflower.

He was older now- had gone by many names over the Seasons- but right now he was thinking of a time that felt a lifetime ago.

A time when he was known as Ellis The Bold.

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"Father Abbot- She's alive. Of this I am sure, I feel it in my bones."

"There's no certainty of anything, Ellis, and take to heart the words of this abbey-"

"I know the words. I know. Offer Shelter. Help and Comfort. Be brothers to all. Forsake the violence. Do not preach it to me thus, Abbot, please. I know this to be true. Hear my words, search my eyes, see for yourself; I do this not out of anger but out of love."

Silence weighed over the group for some time. Finally, the abbot spoke;

"Very well then. Go, Ellis. Who all will go with you?"

"Tybalt and Juniper, sir, begging they can be spared. They likewise felt the spirit thus." Ellis intoned quietly. "They were also there with me when we came first upon the Fox."

"The Fox! The Fox!" The Abbot remarked. "Such a conniving thing- such a convincing thing, too! She played us all the fool, eh? Well mark this, Ellis, I do not hold us as fools for outstretching the paw of peace and compassion. If truly the spirit spake in this way and guides you thus, then go with my blessing and be well and hearty. Adelaide is waiting for you..."

And so it was, many seasons ago, that Ellis set off on a journey. Accompanied by Tybalt, a Vole who was as quiet as the wind at night when he felt the need, and Juniper, a Squirrel whose prowess with the saucepan was rivalled only by her tenacity in using it beyond the purposes of mere cutlery, Ellis tasked himself with tracking down a wily creature indeed; Karmelita.

Karmelita had tricked her way into the abbey, begging sanctuary and claiming to be fleeing from a band of vermin most foul. Ellis permitted her entry into the Abbey, wary but keeping the Charter in his heart; compassion, above all else, guiding his recommendation to grant her entry. For a time, Karmelita resided in the infirmary where her wounds were tended. During her stay, small treasures and relics of the Abbey's history were disappearing- tensions were building between the abbeydwellers and the fox.

It was Adelaide who discovered the deception firsthand; Ellis' wife and beloved. Awaking one night, she discerned the Vixen's figure, framed in the full moon, atop the wall by the North Gate discarding a chalice into the paws of a band of vermin down below. When confronted- for Adelaide was a hot-headed woman, for a Hedgehog- Karmelita attacked her. Fearing the stories of Redwall's heroic history, she kidnapped Adelaide to ward off pursuit. Such as the case for many small omens, this rendered itself self-fulfilling; this very act lead to Ellis' adventure from the Abbey.

The trio's journey was long and dangerous. Karmelita and her band had fled far to the North. Along the way they encountered many a friendbeast and foe alike, and Ellis found himself a fledgling warrior too; the spear came naturally to his hands. Three set off, and during the journey their number swelled to nearly a dozen, but the return to the Abbey was made by four.

Ellis, Tybalt, Adelaide, and an infant Hedgehog named Grant. Juniper had not survived the 'venture. Adelaide had given birth while held captive by the Vermin. Joy and Sorrow intertwined, and the Abbey welcomed their Heroes home.

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What was in truth so long ago felt like a dream that was yet to pass. Ellis the Bold was a young thing, whose fur and spikes held their color strong; Ellis the Old, as the Dibbuns called him these days, was beginning to show grey and had maintained his bulk less with muscle and more with wine. His far off eyes returned to the here and the now, and he shook himself of this reverie with a sad smile.

So many lost friends, so many stories gained. And Grant. There was always Grant.

"'e has certainly taken to The Craft well." Ellis mused to himself. "Though he does think that ev'ry pretty gel has eyes for him..."

Ellis The Bold, upon returning home to Redwall so long ago, had taken up formal occupation as the Cellarkeeper and Brewer of the Abbey (Thus earning him the title 'Ellis of the Tap'). A job that was now being trained and passed to his son, Grant. A heaviness set itself upon his wearied shoulders. He lifted his head, took up his hogtwanger, and headed out into the air of the front lawn. He sniffed; indeed, a rain was to come presently. A melancholy had gripped the aged Hedgehog, however, and he was not to be deterred.

He walked himself to the North Gate. It had been Adelaide's favorite place to stand, gazing out from the high walls here. When he was here, he felt close to her spirit. He stood there in solitude atop the wall. Thoughts of love and life, sorrow and solace, filled him; thoughts of the future, of love still, and of prosperity consoled him. He could still see Adelaide alive in the face of Grant, in the way he laughed, in the way he handled the casks and barrels and sampled the ales- His boy was a man grown now, but a father never stops seeing his child beneath the Seasons.

Ellis turned when the rain broke and began to fall, enjoying the beginnings of the downpour on his spikes as he traversed a world of memory. Life was good, and his was full; it was now his duty to see to it that those experiences survived and guided those who would come after.

Relevant NPCs;

Tybalt The Vole, blind old shenanigans master of the Abbey. Good friend of Ellis', veteran adventurer turned prankster. Nobody really knows how he gets around so well, but he has startled many a beast with his sudden silent appearances.

Grant (Son of Ellis). A flirtatious and self-aggrandizing hedgehog, replete with untapped talent for The Craft and bridled with energy to try and fit in and belong. Struggles with failures, and holds onto past mistakes, making his highs and lows quite extreme.

(Deceased) Juniper, Squirrel chef and fel-hand with the flying pan. Died to Karmelita on Ellis' quest to save Adelaide.

(Deceased) Adelaide, Ellis' deceased wife. Mother of Grant. Voice on the wind and whisper in his ear always.

Others to be added as relevant; possible adventurers from his younger days abound.

(Deceased) Karmelita, Prophetess of Verminkind. Predicted her own death; self fulfilling vision, that one, as it spurned her to kidnap Adelaide and sparked Ellis' adventure.

[PrankFox]

Zaris Streamcutter

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Zaris Streamcutter

|Otter|Male|

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Personality

|Loyal| |Impulsive| |Resilient| |Blunt| |Free-Spirited| |Stubborn|

When it comes to protecting the Abbey, Zaris has a strict no nonsense type disposition. He understands the necessity of following orders and playing things careful and safe in order to protect the well being of all the goodbeasts that call it their home. There isn’t time for hesitation when lives are on the line or vermin at the door. Though this does make him somewhat impulsive and he will jump to conclusions or leap into a fray without thinking much of himself. He is incredibly loyal to those who he cares for, or have done something for him-he doesn't like the idea of having debts to anyone-and will put their wellbeing above his own in times of need.

However, when he's off the proverbial clock he is more than willing to let loose a little bit and have some fun. He likes to keep things light and avoid serious topics of conversation, unless strictly necessary. Like most other otters he has the similar kind of free-spirited energy and enthusiasm that drives them to enjoy life to the fullest. He does have some difficulty keeping things to himself, or keeping a secret, and will usually say whatever comes to mind without thinking much of it. So, unless someone is there to stop him from spilling secrets it's best just to not tell him things that the whole Abbey shouldn't know.

Part of the reason Zaris is so willing to leap into the fray is sheer stubbornness and, what he considers, serious physical resilience. This has lead to a number of scars, but he always thinks of it as "better himself than someone else." When he gets his mind set on something it's very difficult to change it without good reason. He sees himself as a protector and will blame himself if someone gets hurt when he could have done something to prevent it.

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|Motivations|

• Protection: Protect those who cannot protect themselves and prevent something bad from happening, again.
• Find purpose and his tribe: With the loss of his tribe it has been difficult for Zaris to find his way in the world. Working at the Abbey has given him something to do, but he feels like there's more that he could be doing. He also wants to find the remnants of his tribe to see if his father is still alive.
• Prove himself: He feels partially responsible for the death of many of the members of his tribe at the hands of a vermin hoard and wants to prove to himself, and the members of his tribe if they remain, that he is deserving of his name and blade.
• Vengeance: Find the stoat that killed his mother.

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History

Zaris was born to a tribe of river otters in the north of Mossflower Woods along the stream that runs down towards Redwall Abbey. The tribe wasn't massive in comparison to some in history, but still had a fair number of members. Enough to be well enough protected from most anything that would threaten them. His father, the Skipper of their tribe, was incredibly pleased to have a son and immediately began to dote on him far more than anyone else would have expected of the somewhat stern leader of their tribe. His mother was just as competent of a warrior in their tribe as his father and couldn't wait until her son would be able to begin to learn how to fight and the intricacies of the tribe.

Once he got old enough Zaris began to learn how to fight from both of his parents using the swords that his tribe was known for as well as slings. He took fairly quickly to the practice, but found difficulty in the fact that he never wanted to potentially hurt anyone, and his father was always somewhat exasperated by his unwillingness to really get into it. Despite being told stories from when he was very young about the vermin that will attack them without thought he still struggled with it.

This hesitancy changed rather quickly when a band of vermin from the North Hills traipsed into Mossflower with the intention of attacking the goodbeasts within, and likely trying to make their way to Redwall Abbey. The vermin ambushed their streamside home during the night and in the ensuing fight many of the members of his tribe were killed, including his mother who pushed him out of the way of a stoat's blade. He retrieved his mother's blade, as well as his own and joined in the fight with the rest of his tribe. He held his own for some time but the vermin were too numerous. He doesn't remember the rest of the battle as he was knocked unconscious.

When he awoke he was within the vermin's camp with a couple of the other younger members of his tribe. He wasn't sure of the further intentions of the vermin but he knew that they wouldn't be good. It took them some time, and no small amount of struggle against the vermin, but he and the others were able to break free of their bindings, take down their guards, and retrieve their weapons before the rest of the camp was alerted. It was an even more difficult fight, since there were so few of them, but they were able to fight their way out of the camp. He got separated from the other two during their flight through Mossflower Woods, but was able to make it back to the stream before he lost consciousness.

It was thanks to the goodbeasts at the Abbey that he didn't die in the stream and ever since he decided to stay at the Abbey and help them in order to pay off the debt he felt he had to them for saving his life.

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|Abbey Role|

Zaris serves the Abbey as a protector of sorts, though he wants to find the remnants of his tribe he feels an obligation to those who saved him. Until he feels he's paid his debt he wants to stay and help in whatever way he can. He would also admit a fondness for many of the beasts that are there.

His particular role is that of an Assistant Gatekeeper. He doesn't actually man the gate, but serves as a watchman to make sure that those who are unwelcome aren't permitted entry (and that sneaky dubbins don't get out). It's a job he takes very seriously, maybe a little too seriously at times, but his heart is in the right place.

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Equipment

• Joined swords-A pair of curved silver blades with a leather wrapped handles. One was given to him by his father when he first began to learn how to fight and the other from his mother.
• Sling-A classic sling that is used by many of the otter tribes for throwing rocks
• Hip Pouch-A small pouch that he keeps his sling stones along with other odds and ends that he has found during his time in Mossflower Woods.

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Other:

Several of the scars that he has are actually from his father as he refused to fight back for quite some time when he was being trained. He'll never admit this since many of the others are from his time imprisoned by the vermin band that attacked his tribe and protecting others.

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Relationships:

Brother Rigby: Generally companionable once the mouse stopped asking probing questions. He's a nice distraction from the boredom that sometimes comes with watching the gate during a peaceful time.

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[Nemaisare]

Brother Rigby

Brother Rigby is a mouse.

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.

Things and stuff

NPCs

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• Mother - Hazel
  
  Mildmannered, with a soft voice but firm touch and ready humour, she's a favourite amongst the mothers and the sewing circle alike for knowing how to make time go faster with her conversation, storytelling, or singing.
• Father - Welkin
  
  A contemplative sort, he's skilled with wood and makes a good listener, he had far more patience for Rigby's antics than he perhaps should have, but was and is always ready to offer support and encouragement to anyone that needs it.
• Grandparents - Poppy and Topher
  
  Though they're getting on in seasons, this pair tend to be more energetic than one might expect of their greying whiskers. They often stroll through Mossflower and enjoy working with their paws.
• Elder sister Niveah
  
  Bit of a wanderer, though she stops in fairly regularly.

Character Relationships

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• Brother Jethro
  
  A cautious vole.
• Grant
  
  Son of Ellis, a good friend Rigby looked up to as a Dibbun, though as he grew older it became less adoration and more appreciation.
• Ellis
  
  stuff
• Bancroft
  
  stuuuf
• Zaris Streamcutter
  
  stuff again

[Cyrania]

Marigold

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.