User blog:Ox Rookbane/Renaissance

Dedicated to all my friends who've helped me get here. Again dedicated to friend LegendTeller for getting me started.

Author's Note: Let thy anticipation die, it's on its way. From the writer of Light in The Dark and Conflux of Time, comes the newest installment of Redwall Fanfiction written by me. Enjoy, Renaissance.

Prologue
It was a cold winter. The atmosphere was filled with chilling temperatures that bit through fur and clothes. A family snuggled up to the fire pit, retrieving warmth from the blaze it cradled. The snow whipped in with the wind that nipped at those uncovered. Blankets were draped around each member of the family as they took their supper near the fire. Their father, an albino badger, sat with his red eyes glowing with the light of the fire. His snow white fur was soft and comfortable, according to his son. His son snuggled close to his dad for warmth as the two shared a blanket. His daughter was wrapped up and perched upon his mother's lap. Their mother had made a delicious broth and the cave was filled with the slurping of broth. Other than the sounds of slurping and the wind screaming outside, it was silent. The light of the fire bounced off the walls of the cave and shined on their faces.

His son nudged him. "Can you tell us a story, daddy?"

And in a voice so calm and soft like snow, he replied back. "I don't know... I don't think you can handle the story I have to tell..."

His son begged him with his daughter chiming in. "Oh, please tell us, daddy! We promise we'll be good!"

And he laughed gently. He was such a magnificent creature. For the giant badger that he was with his permanently reddened eyes from albinism, to have such a gentle and soothing voice and soft fur was quite miraculous. And with his amazing voice, he answered, "you must promise me that you will be mature about this. This, is not a fairytale. This story I will share is one I lived in, and one with sinister creatures and hideous gore. This, is the story of warfare that reestablished peace to Mossflower.

"The one to save us, The Liberator of Mossflower he was called, was an young otter. And by Fate was he chosen to save us with expenses for himself that would emotionally scar him, though he had the will to survive his pain to free us from ours."

Chapter 1
He could see the events unfold with his eyes from the distance. Holt Rudderwave burned, and a young otter was slung across his father's shoulders, screaming in emotional pain as his home burned from the camisado launched by the next big conqueror. A wolverine from lands far, far away, with the ambition to conquer the world.

The fire either reflected in his eyes, or it was flames from anger deep in him. He struggled against his father's strength to break free to fight for his home. All he could think of in his head was, ''why did you abandon our home with us? Why did you take us from all that we had?! YOU WERE THE CHIEFTAIN OF HOLT RUDDERWAVE, AND YOU RUN AND LET IT BURN AWAY LIKE IT WAS NOTHING?! HOW COULD YOU?!''

They all ran from the holt, never turning back to look at the blazes of their home. Such a peaceful place devastated by destruction, and all the otters could do was run. All of them ran, and those unfortunate were either slaughtered or burned alive. Those brave enough to defy this wolverine were killed.

=

The wolverine, tall and strong as a badger Lord of Salamandastron, brown furred and sharp teethed, was the perfect build for a conqueror. Erine, his name. He stood tall and erect, obviously overpowering his army. His authority and strength showed in the muscles that built his body.

"Oi ah, uh... Um..."

The wolverine laughed. "Something the matter?"

The one who spoke up, a weasel, felt fear rush through his feeble body compared to his leader. The voice Erine used to reply back with was calm and gentle-- almost friendly, in fact. Limbs trembling, they mumbled out, "I just have s-some... C-captured o-otters... T-that's all s-sir..."

And another laugh. Erine smiled and nodded in approval and sent the weasel off. The otters were lined up, all facing the enormous creature in front of them. They too, trembled in fear that threatened to consume them. Shaking his head, the warlord gave a shuddering sigh. "Oh, come on... You cut me out to be out for blood, eh? Nonsense, you'll all be fine. You'll be just fine in a slave compound where you'll be fed and tended to correctly. Skolis?" The wolverine called.

A wolf from foreign lands like Erine came forward with an otter walking by his side. "I'm here, mate. And how 'bout some good news, eh pal?"

The leader smiled. "Why, I don't think we haven't had good news in awhile. Not like we're struck with a bad omen, so I'm optimistic about it all. Now, what's this news?"

The wolverine beckoned the Slaver and ordered them to take the otters that were captured to the slave compound close by, then returned to Skolis. Walking and talking, he noticed an otter by the wolf's side. "Ah, so somebeast has some plans with us?"

This otter sneered. "I'm not gonna let you get every bit of satisfaction shovin' them 'round. This underdog is going to become the top dog!"

=

"Dad? Do... Do you think they're going to be fine?"

The young otter was exhausted, and so was his father. After hours of running, his father collapsed on the ground with his wife. The youngster fell from the shoulder he was slumped on. Dusting himself off, he stood and looked back from where they ran. They've made it far away from disaster, but yet he felt miserable. The home that was beautiful and peaceful to him, the place he'd grown up all of his life so far, and the shelter he and his friends shared.

Looking back at his parents, he whispered as if he didn't want to disturb the peace. "Dad, where are we?"

The sturdy father sat there, licking the dew from the grass to quench the searing burn in his throat from smoke and ash. After having his short relief, his face was retrieved from the floor of the woods, only to look up at wooden walls. "You have got to be kiddin' me..."

"Dad? Are you trying to--"

"No, Callahan, I'm not trying to attack you. It's just... I ran the wrong way..."

His wife looked up also. "You're... I... It... Wuh... Huh... Oh, hell!"

They were looking right up at the slave compound.

=

"On your way, maggots!"

A rat with a spear prodded them with the shaft. Shoving them about into the line of the arrivals from the survivors of the attack on Holt Rudderwave, the young otter Callahan fought and struggled with the tormentors. "Let me go! Yeowch! Don't you know that spear butts hurt? Mmmpf!"

Getting to the line, they gave him a chance to obey. Taking the chance, he tried to make a run for it. Going straight for the still open gates, the thrusters were on as he attempted an escape. Then, a sharp pain in his leg and sudden realization that he was no longer on the ground shocked him. Somebeast swept him with a kick at his legs and sent him flying and landing with a crash.

This time he complied and let himself be dragged to the line and chained up with the rest. His head hung low with despair after being captured. The sunlight of the morning shined down on him and warmed his neck. The warmth was comforting and pestering all together. Warmth wasn't what he wanted after fire. He wanted to take a nice swim back at Holt Rudderwave and take a lunch at the bay with his friends.

The warmth faded into a chill from the new shade created by the figure leaning over him. The wolverine, Callahan thought. The conqueror held a paw out and lifted Callahan's chin so they could make direct eye contact. With a grin not betraying any emotions in the wolverine's reality, Callahan didn't like it. The youngster growled at him and made the best look of defiance he could. "What do you want, murderer?"

And the wolverine backed away as if the words stung him like an angry wasp. Whether it was real or fake, nobeast would know. "M-murderer? Ooh, that just hurts my feelings... None of your pals or neighbors were killed-- well... Let's actually say those who behaved are here, m'kay?"

Regaining his form, Erine cleared his throat and began to belt out, "I am Erine. You have been conquered by us, and you will ACCEPT my ways. See, I'm not so mean, I'm easy going! I care that you all have basic rights, but those who misbehave?" The wolverine held his paws out as if he was clueless, shrugged, and shook his head. "Well, let's just say they get a 'timeout'. I hope none of you have to be put in 'timeout'."

The vermin behind him chuckled as they spat in there paws. Rubbing their knuckles and cracking them, it gave the impression that they'd beat them. The mood instantly dropped. Then, the all-too-cheerful Erine showed them around the compound and pointed out their own barracks where they'd stay. He really did speak truth when they'd be fairly treated. The barracks had soft beds and pillows, trunks to keep their belongings, and other necessities.

"Now, this! This, my fellow friends, is the 'Work House'. This is where you will work and provide for your own needs, and for the needs of my future Empire. As I like to say, it's hard, but it's fair. You'll be assigned to foraging and creating meals. First, for us, then for yourselves. We're not that picky, so we'll just ask for a simple meal. Whatever's left, knock yourselves out with making what ever you'd like!"

The others were starting like the sound of this like it wouldn't really bother them. They were to be treated fairly, and obviously the wolverine was making that clear. They managed to smile, but Callahan was infuriated. How could you let them put us in a pen like we're to be livestock?!

"Now that concludes this tour! If nobeast has questions, then I'll be off doing my busy work and you can enjoy your first day relaxing!"

"Wait! Just exactly what is this 'busy work'? Sitting on your butt and enjoying luxurious things while we work our tail ends off?"

Erine just chuckled at Callahan's question. "Ha hah, that's a good question in fact! Well, let me tell ya something real quick here boy: I'm conquering. You're here to help the welfare of a beginning Empire. You're gonna have to get used to it, kid."

The wolverine shoved the young otter and he fell back into the arms of one of his friends-- Julia. While his mother and father glared icily at their son, Julia soothed Callahan's bitter rage with strokes of his headfur. She so easily got through to him because Callahan might've liked her a little more than a friend...