User blog:RakketyTamMacBurl/Murder At Redwall

Murder at Redwall
NB: Originally posted on Mibba.com, the majority of characters are based off friends from that site. Needed to post this here so there wasn't any accusations of plagirism (people can vouch both accounts belong to me if in any doubt).

The prolouge (Ryry the Warrior) was originally a stand alone oneshot on Mibba but I've decided to combine the two.

Story occurs after Doomwyte.

Prolouge
The snow was drifting down on the abbey grounds as the inhabitants ran about their business, completing their chores and making preparations for the mid-winter feast. Most were using the tunnels dug by foremole and his crew had dug when General Ironbeak had invaded the Abbey. Though that had been many seasons ago now, so long ago that the last two surviving creatures of that time, Rollo the Recorder and Auma, Mother of Redwall had been laid to rest many seasons ago.

Despite the happiness of the mid-winter feast preparations, it was also a time for mourning as the Abbey’s warrior had passed away during the night, leaving his young son, Ryry with the position of warrior. The young mouse was not entirely prepared and had been hit hard by his father’s untimely death, the poor soul had contracted a terrible illness which none of the brothers and sisters had seen.

Ryry was one of the few creatures avoiding the tunnel, they had buried his father the previous night and the new warrior could not face going underground. He padded out to the abbey pond in the cold, a new resilience in his manner; he plodded along slowly, the cold, wet snow soaking through his fur. He reached the pond and poked the surface with his paw, as predicted it was frozen solid. He sighed and crouched on his haunches as he began to hit the great pond with a sturdy stick, hoping to break through it, it was as good excuse as any not to return to the abbey.

The snow continued to fall around the young mouse, soaking through his green tunic. Tears rolled down his furry little face, he did not wipe them as he wept for his father, immersed in thoughts of him. He did not notice when the white flakes stopped whirring around him, nor did he hear the heavy crunching of the snow or the groans of the old badger as she sat beside him. The Mother of Redwall wrapped an arm around the young mouse and whispered empty words of comfort to him.

The young mouse coughed and sneezed as he turned and buried his face into the badger and sobbed hard.