User blog:Gaylesking/Gaylesclan

Prologue
Keynith trudged along the dusty, beaten path, the expanses of Mossflower woods on either side of him. A full moon shown down on the woods, lighting his way like a motherly lantern in the sky. The air was warm, but a frosty breeze hinted at cold yet to come. A few more days, the big otter thought, and he'd be at Redwall Abbey. A smile spread across his face and he licked his lips in anticipation of the feast that the abbeybeasts were preparing. It was nearly the end of summer, the weather beginning to cool, and the abbeydwellers would be celebrating the fall harvest. This was the most extravagant feast of the year, for the new crops pulled from the abbey gardens would be the freshest they could be. As Keynith rounded a bend, his thoughts preoccupied with images of spicy hotroot soup, savory leek and mushroom flan, and ice cold cider, he almost passed by the small door set in a hillock on the opposite side of the path from him. The only thing that made him aware to its presence was that it opened, and a old, grizzled hedgehog hailed him. The hedgehog yelled across the cold night air, "Come in traveler, come in! Come! There are Tales to be woven, Stories to be spun!"

Obviously expecting Keynith to follow him, the old spiky hog waddled through the small doorway. Entering the dwelling, Keynith had to stoop to get in through the doorway. The house was literally dug into the hill. Its earthen walls were held together by the roots of a long dead tree, which were clearly visible running along the walls. The only furniture was a hardwood table, a stool, and a large armchair that sat by a fireplace dug into the wall. A pot hung over the fire, filled with a bubbling stew, chunks of vegetables and shrimp floating in it. Several barrels stood along the walls. By the light of the fire, Keynith saw that the hog was bent with age, and most of his spikes were a silvery grey. He carried a large club as a walking stick, and when he spoke he gestured animatedly with it. Swinging the club round the room, he said in a dry voice, "My house is yours It's not much, you see But the only condition's that you listen to me."

Picking up a bowl, he dipped it into the pot and handed it to Keynith, who gratefully accepted the meal. Unhooking a wooden mug from his belt, he filled it with liquid from a barrel, and came to sit in the armchair by the fire. He sighed deeply, and sipped from his cup. Keynith pulled up the stool across from him and waited for the hog to speak. After a while, the wizened hog leaned forward and spoke again. "I've been alone for some time my children've left me you're the best I've had for a while in terms of company. All that I've had for so very long Is my collection of tales and a couple of songs."

He leaned back, and his eyes took on a look of awe.

"This is an ancient tale of these lands of dreams, love, and the greatest of clans of times when evil battled with good and the heroes of legend that live in myths stood"