Hello, and Welcome to the first Pass-a-long Fanfiction of this Wiki! This Fanfiction will follow a lot of the same rules and ideals as on the Redwall Wiki. Every contributor must add at least One Chapter, and Previous revisions of other chapters without the original user's permission will not be allowed and/or permitted. Remember; Keep this PG-13. This means nothing sexual, nothing too-too gory, and no swears. If any of this sort of activity will be acknowledged, Punishment will be dealt swiftly and without mercy.
Make sure to sign your name at the top of each chapter, so we can see who wrote it.
It had been a peaceful night at Salamandastron. The Autumn Breeze sifted through the various gravel and sands found on the beaches of the mountain Domain. Cool water drifted up on the slopes of the sand dunes, and brilliant stars peppered the sky like flour on a pastry.
An Elderly Hare was enjoying the pleasant night, taking a breathe of the fresh, salt air. The sound of waves crashing reminded him of something; Perhaps of a distant memory. Shifting positions, he turned back to gaze at his great and powerful mountain home. He closed his weary eyes, seeking a bit of rest.
The Elderly Hare lazily opened one of his eyelids, noticing the harebabe standing directly in front of him. He grinned at is grandson's antics. "And why are ye up so late, wot? Isn't past yore jolly bedtime?"
The Harebabe shook his head. "Nah! Wilfern Hollowgut issna goin' ta bed! Wanna show Granpa book Wilfern Hollowgut found!"
Smiling with utter Joy, the Harebabe shoved a large volume towards his Grandfather, his whiskers twitching with anticipation. The old hare bent down to touch it, amazed at how smooth the book was dispite it's possible age. It's cover was bound by leather, with multiple stains on it. The corners where rubbed off, and the binding of leather was peeling off ever so slightly. Though Slightly dusty, the Grandfather managed to decipher the atrocious paw writing scrawled on the cover.
"Hmph...Says 'Journal', I belive...." The older hare paused for a second before looking accusingly at his grandson. "Y'snoopin' round other Hare's flammin' Journals?"
Wilfern turned a bright shade of pink. "No! No! Wilfern Hollowgut found dis 'un in th'librarby! Th'Librarby!"
The Old one chuckled at the younger one's attempt to seem innocent. "Well now, must admit I am a teensy bit snoopy me'self. Why don't we take a teensy look, wot wot?"
Scrambling to his Grandfather's side, young Wilfern grinned from ear to ear as his Grandfather leafed to the first yellow page of the journal, reading in a soft, soothing voice to the Dibbun, as he retold the tale.
"My Name is Urthrun. I am the child to Urtheye and Urthbludd. This is my story, and this is my life, which I shall tell. I want beasts to know me as more than my title; Urthrun the Gripper."
BOOK 1: THE SHAKER
"As I write in this Journal, I tend to ponder what my father thinks of me. I know he is getting restless; he hasn't had a good battle in a few seasons. I'm afraid he will someday explode. How do I know? I know he has Bloodwrath. My two brothers and three sisters also have Bloodwrath, Though they are all older than me by a couple of seasons. I wish I had Bloodwrath. Then I could prove to my father how tough I really am."
"Urthrun! Stop writing in yore book so much!"
The Young Badger looked up from his Journal, his eyes weary. It was obvious he didn't enjoy being interrupted in his writing. He was, however, surprise to see his Elder Brother standing above him. The Badger was massive; Almost as tall as Urthrun's father. Suppressing a yawn, Urthrun smiled tiredly. "Good afternoon, Urthblade. You been practicing?"
Urthblade snorted, grinning. "Aye, pipsqueak. Me an' pa 'ave been up since Dawn. Yore other brother...Urthtree...Seen 'im?"
Urthrun shook his head, unknown to the fact that his second Brother had gone missing. "Nah. Probably helpin' Mum."
The Elder Badger smiled mockingly at his younger brother, hitting him hard on the back. "Youre probably helpin' Mum, Sissy! Race me!"
Urthrun scrambled from his seat, furious that Urthblade had the guts to make fun of him. "Come back here, you?" Tossing his Journal onto his wooden desk, the Beast sprinted after his Brother. He knew he was the fast of the two; not as fast as his sisters, but faster than Urthblade, who possessed the muscle Urthrun coveted. No wonder his father favored the former of the two.
"Oof! Watch where your-"
Perhaps running madly through the hall of his own home wasn't Urthrun's most witty idea. Sprinting like an idiot, he ran straight into his three sisters; each one looking grumpier than usual. The Oldest of his Sisters, Urthrose, had jam smeared on her face. Urthstream and Urthflower, the other sisters, proceded to chide their young, foolish brother.
"Urthrun! You should be ashamed of yourself!" Urthflower shouted, pointing her paw accusingly at her brother. Slowly rising, the Male Badger shot past his reprimanding sister. Much to Urthflower's disaproval, she tutted him, though didn't chase after him. Perhaps her mother needed help in the kitchen.
At last, young Urthrun managed to meet his Brother in the Orchard. Birds where twittering sweetly that moment, and trees where heavy with fresh fruit. The sound of rushing waters echoed from a nearby stream, as well as a massive oak which stood right in front of Urthrun; the very tree still growing. Stepping forward meekly, Urthrun searched for his brother Urthblade, unsure of what was set for him.
A colossal badger then stepped forward, towering over Urthrun. The younger badger cowered slightly, and would've fled, if the very Badger wasn't Urthbludd the Ferocious: His Father.
Urthbludd was looking grumpier than usual; which wasn't a good sign at all. He had a long scar going from the tip of his eye, trailing all the way down to his abdomen; with little to no fur growing in the Area. His fur was short, but messy, giving him a particular savage look. He often only wore a vest of some sort, with a wide belt wrapped on his waist. Long claws protruded from the Badger's paws, and his eyes where tinged with red. It was a known fact that Urthbludd possessed Bloodwrath.
Narrowing his eyes, the large badger spoke gruffly. "I would expect you to have come earlier. You didn't.
Urthrun shrugged slightly, not sure what to say at the moment. "Well...I was busy."
"Busy doin' what? Writing? Your never gonna protect our family with that sissy book! Your a badger, for Hellgate's sakes! Pick up a sword an' hit a rat! Urthblade here killed 'is first vermin a season ago!"
Urthrun timidly picked up the sword his father was motioning towards, his legs shifting uncomfortably. His father scoffed, belligerently mocking him on his poor form.
"Ha! Do you dare call yourself part of the Urth line of Badgers? Do you dare say that the mighty blood of The Great Urth runs through your veins! Pick up that sword, you runt! Hold it like a weapon!"
After a few hot-headed moments, The young badger managed to grasp the sword correctly. It sat uncomfortably in his paws, causing Urthrun to shift his paws once again, though only being rewarded by another sharp bark from his father. Inching forward; he thrust the sword forward, as if impaling an invisible enemy.
"Keep yore shoulders wider!"
Stepping back, he swiped half-heartily. Grumbling, Urthbludd realized that this was going no-where. If his son were to ever become the swordsman he was, he needed live prey. How would he ever experience the flow of battle, if he where forever stuck fighting the air?
Stepping towards his son, Urthbludd suddenly adopted a soft, fatherly voice. "Son; I think it's time you rid this land of vermin, just as your brother had before you."
Urthrun's eyes widened, grinning. "Really?! Wow, I can't believe it! And so soon?"
Urthbludd nodded. "Aye; Urthblade did it, as so did yore sisters. Run off to Urthblade so 'ee can tell yore mum. Then we're goin'. Take yore sword, too."
Meanwhile, on the Western Plains, there was a bustle of activity. Many tents had been put up, and weasels, rats, stoats, ferrets, and foxes of all shapes and sizes sprinted as fast as each of their legs would carry them to the center of this large camp. To the untrained eye, this may seem like their planning some sort of attack that could easily be fought off. However, to some, this was an omen of bad luck.
Azogar Blackfoot, the ferret mercenary and warlord, was getting tired of his iron pawgrip on the Western Plains. He was handsome, at least by ferret terms, a head taller than most ferrets, and was fairly young, only twenty-three seasons. Using his quick wits and ingenuity, he had recruited an army of approximately six-hundred seasoned vermin assassins, bounty hunters, and mercenaries to fight alongside him in battle, and more joined everyday. They raided villages all throughout the area, stole riches, and made slaves of those who could not fight back. Thus, he had earned his title, The King of Thieves!
Sitting on his throne and drinking dark wine from a silver chalice, Azogar sighed and planned his next move. The Western Coast was not a good idea, as corsairs would not appreciate his conquering of their territory, and very few beasts in his army could navigate the seas.
A stoat guarding his throne tent walked by. The ferret called out to him. "You! Get in here!"
The stoat darted back and saluted with his spear. "What is it, Your Majesty?"
"Get in Ambra and Videnta in here, now." he ordered. The stoat sprinted off again, returning a few minutes later with the two seers.
Ambra was a young female wildcat, and had been recruited from the Western Coast, while Videnta was an old vixen who had been recruited from the Southern Lands. Both had proven very useful in the past, and the ferret Warlord knew that they could do so again. This was not to say that Azogar was a superstitious beast, rather he asked for their advice because he knew that both had served many conquerors before and were wise.
"What is it, my lord?" Ambra asked. Her sharp yellow eyes reflected off the gold and copper crown on her master's head.
"Where should my army conquer next, north, south, or west?"
Videnta spoke first, as her advice was most often taken. "Send your army South, Your Highness, there is but a small army there to fight against. Surely you will be able to take the Southsward Castle."
Ambra glared at her fellow seer. "West. Mossflower Wood is a place not touched at all by war. There are no warriors there. They are all peaceful folk. You will be as a windstorm to an old farmhouse. You will be their end, their Shaker."
Azogar nodded. "Hmm. Then it is settled. Videnta, tell everybeast in the Horde. We leave tomorrow at dawn."
The vixen's eyes grew wide with fear. "But master, I've heard of that place, and though what Ambra says is true, it may not be-"
The ferret interrupted her. "I have spoken, and what I saw is law. Go, now!"
The fox ran off. Ambra slipped away silently. Azogar chuckled to himself. His seasons of reign in the Western Plains were over. His empire would expand to the lush woodland of Mossflower. And he would no longer be the King of Thieves. He would become The Shaker!
by Ox Rookbane
"How much further do we got?" Urthrun groaned on the expedition.
"It's not far now, so shut ye trap an' quit complainin'.
Curiosity overtook Urthrun. Where was his father taking him that made him leave home with only his sword? Are they really that close now? Why did his father not bother with provisions? So many questions swam in his mind to catch him astray from the path Urthbludd had taken. Smacking into a tree, Urthrun let off a sharp whine of pain before he was nudged hard in the ribcage by his parent. "Shut it, we're here. I don't want you to say a word or I'll have yore tongue for an accolade, clear?"
Urthrun shook his head and watched his father approached an astonishing landmark. Rocks had been arranged to form a circular shape with one overlooking them all. Atop the rock sat a figure. Fur dyed black, wearing garments made of black cloth with unusual white symbols, and headfur appearing to droop down in his face, and feather in mouth, they didn't seem to notice company. Urthbludd chuckled once and called up. "'Ey, wake up! Blakklaw yore lazier than my own son 'ere!"
The figure grunted and leapt from the top of the rock and landed with a roll and clatter of his gear. Retrieving themself from the ground, they turned around with their arms crossed with head bowed and eyes closed. Grunting once more, they spat a feather from their mouth towards Urthrun and a blade almost instantaneously lashed out and cut the feather in half in front of his face. Urthrun stared gaping at them and what he just had done. Little did he notice that a sliver of his fur on his head had been chopped off.
"You ruin one in meditation, Urthbludd. The only time I get to soothe myself, and y'ruin it by bringing me a runt," they complained. "Well Urthbludd, I hope you got me somethin' in return for my service I'll provide... Name? Speak!" They barked in a frighteningly deep voice.
"U-Urthrun! I-it-it's Urthrun! Eeeek!" Another slash came close to his face.
"Urthbludd, you bring me a mere babe to shape into a fighter? You better have somethin' in store for me mate."
He replied back to the figure. "Yore quite the otter, eh Blakklaw? Oh ho, I'll treat you nice if y'can turn this sissy into a fighter! I'd know from seein' you that y'like it when somebeast keeps their word. You know I will."
(NOTE: User Ox Rookbane has notified me that he will not be continuing this chapter of the Pass-a-long. All content from the beginning of the chapter to this notification was written by Ox Rookbane, and shall not be edited unless given permission from the original author. Any beast who wishes to continue may, as long as they do not delete any material beforehand, and keeps continuity with the current plot. Thank you -E.)