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Sagrived Switpaw
June 25th, 2007, 10:01 AM
Ironclaw
By Switpaw

-Index-
I: Mind Storms
II: The Gulls Cargo
III: Not so Fair Tidings
*in progress*

“Ironclaw” is a Redwall work of Fan Fiction, written by Sagrived Switpaw of the Longpatrol and Myths of Redwall Forums. All trademarks of Redwall belong to storyteller Brian Jacques of the UK.
Ironclaw, published at TMOR & LPF, 2007.
All Rights Reserved.

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Mind Storms

Jarret of Redwall was wondering the abbey grounds with old abbot Marcus, saying nothing in particular. Yet the young mouse still felt the feeling of urgency in his wondering. As if he were searching for something and the abbot was aiding him in his cause. They wondered here and there for what seemed like an eternity to youthful Jarret, he glanced up at the sky, dark as fire soot. The abbot halted at the abbey pond, and spoke in his common mole speech. “There’s were they’um be young zir.”

The mouse walked out from behind the abbot’s wake and looked curiously at the still water, he seemed to be drawn towards it. He took a step forward, his furry paw splashing down into the misty water. The wave rippled throughout the pond like an earthquake, Jarret took note of this, but still he was drawn towards the deeper water. He took another step, causing yet another ripple. He continued like this until he was chest deep in pond water, the surface was now rippling like a brook full of graylings.

The sky looked even more deathly and it started to rain, thick heavy droplets of water splashed down into the water, clouding the mouse’s vision. Then in the depths of the pond, the water began to mix and turn as if it was a vast ocean. Jarret was terrified; he had never seen anything such as this. The abbey pond which was once so peaceful was now alive with crashing waves, constantly parting, churning and boiling.
Jarret looked back in the abbot’s direction, but the old mole was nowhere to be seen, then the mouse heard many voices apparently rising from the waves, all singing; “The Gull’s Crew……awaits you in the depths……”

Jarret faced the waves, white with terror. He could feel his foot-paws begin to slip through the pond mud, as an unnatural current pulled him deeper into the water.
The mouse’s face was illuminated by a strike of lightning, with the roll of thunder following in its wake. He could barely see, but through the haze of falling rain, he glimpsed…..something…...a ship! A tall wooden schooner had risen from the tide and was riding out the storm in the abbey pond?

Nothing made sense; Jarret’s head began to swim, “What is going on here?” he thought. ”Why is it storming, and whose ship was riding the waves in the abbey pond? “
The confused mouse could fight the current no longer, his paws were wiped from under him, and his head was sucked underneath the water.
Darkness enveloped Jarrets mind, the storm was too much for the young mouse to withstand, it had taken its toll and was still raging on.



The Gulls Cargo

Dierk Shortsteel picked at his teeth with the tip of a dagger, removing the remains of a Salted Grayling he had just finished. He leaned confidently up against a bunk, surveying the creatures around him. Being stashed in a ships dormitory with a crew of burley sea otters and half a dozen woodlanders was not Dierk’s idea of comfortable.

The mouse was a loner by trade, wondering as he pleased. Hailing from the land of Southsward, his roaming north had brought him to the land of Mossflower, and the eastern shoreline, where he met Skippeo and his crewmates. Who for a small fee had boarded him, and taken hi on as one of they’re crew mates.

His eyes scanned the room keenly; the young abbey mouse lay still on a bunk, unconscious ever since his confrontation with the waves, the two Longpatrol hares Destra and Anestra sat cross-pawed in the corner, the old shrew healer perched politely on a chair; her back to the wall, the squirrel Wren laid back on her bunk staring melodiously at the ceiling, the noisy shrew family was off in the kitchen helping prepare supper and the boson Brownrudder sat at a desk, entering the days accounts into the captains log.
The rest of the crew was ether out on deck fighting the weather, or buying time in the kitchen.

Dierk stowed his dagger and tapped his paw on the wooden bunk; “What next?” he thought, “Every hour we are drawn further away from our destination. Skippeo is not even guaranteed a port at the island in this weather, assuming of course if we make it to Green Isle at all!”

Dierk let his paw slide down the side of the bunk until it hung akimbo. He felt so useless in the face of this storm, which had been hanging over them for the past three days. Following buffeting and pushing them further and further off whatever course there was left to follow.
All was silent in the dorm, none voicing the thought that loomed over all of them like a rain cloud. The mouse took a deep breath; “We’ll make it” Dierk told himself, “But at what cost?” One life has already been lost to the sea; hopefully none of them would meet the same fate.



Not so Fair Tidings

The good ship Seagull swayed as a large gust of wind brushed against it, and waves lapped up against both sides of the ship. The otter Skippeo had lashed himself to the ships wheel, so as not to be blown off into the raging water. Skippeo was a devoted sea otter captain; as a pup, his parents had him apprenticed on the good ship Seagull, under old captain Ottdock. And when captain Ottdock retired, he left the ship to Skippeo, who Ottdock had grown frond of over the past seasons of sailing.

Skippeo brought to the Seagull good luck and fair tidings, manning the ship for all but ten seasons. But these past three days were the worst Skippeo had ever seen. The otter had never even heard of a storm such as this; Lightning illuminated the dark clouds as if by the strike of a match, the crash of rain was that of enchantment and the roar of the thunder was all but deafening.

The otter captain was sailing blind, but what choice did he have? He was at the mercy of the sea. The first day into the voyage seemed peaceful enough, but the clouds soon darkened, and Skippeo decided to make anchor and sit out the pending storm.
That is until a mysterious beast has gnawed off the Gull’s anchor, and sent her adrift into the deep waters. Where the current caught the ship and drug it straight into the thick of the storm.

Nothing could be done except wait, and keep the passengers inside. Skippeo couldn’t afford anymore causalities, especially since the old mouse Brother Miles was lost to the waves just yesterday. That bothered Skippeo; “Why was such an old and brittle mouse out on deck in such a fierce storm.” He kept asking himself. The otter could only shake his head and hold the wheel steady. He couldn’t revive the life that was lost, but he could at least keep his passengers as comfortable as possible throughout this dreaded storm.

The otter chuckled, “It doesn’t get much comfier then this eh Skip?” He said to himself, “If only old Ottdock was here…..” Skippeo grunted and shifted the wheel a bit starboard.
Lightning flew over head, and the thunder shook the boat. Skippeo shuddered; “He’d know what to do…..” The otter chief nodded and focused all his energy on dodging the waves that threatened to tare his beloved Seagull apart.

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If you like this fanfic, please comment and or bug me to get over my writers block and keep going. (Thanks for the read)