I wrote this a couple years ago. This is VERY LOOSELY based on Redwall, so I don't know if this counts as a fanfic. In fact, the main character is a human, which i do realize is very controversial. But this is what I came up with in 2008 or 2007, and I'd just like closure for this small story in a place where I believe it will get a good rest. I haven't finished, and I don't plan on finishing, I've had bad writer's block, which explains the nonsense. But if anyone thinks I should take up the pen and seek completion of this novella, then I'll try. Please give feed back, any at all, I know it's pretty bad, I'm a much better, albeit more emotionally depressing writing, which, I have no idea why. Anyways, enough of my ramblings, get on with the story and thanks for taking the time to read. Chapter 1 is gone because it is unnecessary and there are 5 chapters in total.


Chapter 2

I woke up in a tent, under a blanket, and wearing a purple tunic. I sat up and I gazed at the short bow, arrows, and butterfly knives at my side. I stood up, and John entered the tent.
He examined me “Well, aren’t ye lookin’ braw. Go get your weapons o’ war and let’s get to the council of war.”
I stared at him hard for a moment “Excuse me, I have no idea how to equip myself correctly.”
He walked over and shook me “You should equip yourself so that it’s comfortable.”
I equipped the arrows on my back, shoved the dirk in my belt, and used my bow as a walking stick. I followed John to a campfire, where a bunch of beasts were sitting. I knew all of them, to my surprise. I saw Tom, Philip, and finally Brigadier James Ackley Elias A.K.A. Jae. I’ll explain each character briefly. Tom is a mole who’s a professional thief and extremely clever. Philip is a squirrel, who’s John’s main companion and second in command basically. Brigadier Jae is a hare commander from a legendary order of commanders. Due to my horrible memory, I can’t remember their accents, but I can remember their words.
Philip eyed me “Well now, John tells me you’re a novice, but you’ll learn quickly, and by the hard way I suppose.”
I eyed him also “Yeah, and I’ll learn quick.”
I sat and listened to Brigadier Jae “Okay, here’s the plan. John, you, Philip, and whatsyourface(me) will be leading a regiment from the front. I’ll be leading reinforcements from the back. This is called a pincer movement, please don’t make me explain it. Make sure your weapons are sharp and make sure you have a sling on hand in case you run out of arrows.” He turned to me “Get some rocks from the river, not too big or small and tear off a long strip of your tunic, but only at the last moment when you need a sling.” He faced everyone again “Get a good breakfast, and watch your allies’ backs. Dismissed!”
I walked towards the river, selected some rocks, and I sharpened my blade with one of them. After a few hours, scouts reported in that the vermin army was approaching. John called everyone in, and we marched in perfect step towards a shallow valley. I saw the vermin army rushing towards us, yelling blood-curdling war cries. John stopped us. The archers, including me, formed 3 rows. I was anxious about fighting and killing. In every novel I have read there was a cold, chilling feeling of killing someone. I had never felt that feeling, but I knew I would know it very well once we clashed with the vermin.
I gripped my bow in a vice-like grip, and selected an arrow. I waited, and saw vermin encroaching on us. The hairs on my neck rose as I heard the command from John “Archers ready! Pick out a target and wait on my command. Steady…” Right at the moment I saw the whites of their eyes, John called out “First row, Fire!” I raised my bow, and singled out a fox. I shot, and the arrow hit him square in the chest. The action was exhilarating, but I felt something, something wrong, and it crept up on me. I thought about it for just a moment, but any other thoughts were quickly pushed out as John commanded “First row, drop and reload, second row, Fire! Second row, drop and reload, third row, Fire!” He repeated this sequence over and over, and each time I let loose an arrow, the same chilling feeling crept up on me. By the time the vermin got within sword range, we took out about two score of them. I took out my butterfly knives and John yelled “charge!” I ran in, and took a rat by the throat. I saw the hare beside me fall down from a sling stone and I helped him up. He thanked me “Thanks chap, I owe you one. I’ll introduce myself later, this isn’t the place to be doing such things” I took out a weasel behind his back with a quick stab to the side and he took out a fox behind my back with an uppercut from his rapier. I shouted to him over the melee “No problem, here, you cover my back, and I’ll cover yours, then we’ll be even.” We stood back to back, spinning like a carousel, taking down any vermin who got in the way.
The warlord fox of the vermin hordes called retreat. John also called us back so that we could resupply and lick our wounds (recover). I saw Jae’s force come in. He was in a sour mood as he reported to John. “Hah, I never expected a river to impede our pincer movement. That fox left us an ambush on the other side of the river. We wiped that small force out, but it took too long for my liking, so after we took them out, we came back here. We lost about ten and there’s a good number wounded.” I looked towards John, thinking, He’s a trained veteran, how did he fall for that? I was pretty sure John read my mind, because that’s exactly what he asked Jae. Jae scoffed “I got too confident, I thought this was another picnic outing, I left my force wide open.”
The hare that I saved introduced himself. “Hello mate, my name is Arthur Wicket, but you can just call me Artie. I’m guessing that you’re the new-comer that Mr. John was talking about. Thanks for saving me from being trampled.”
I did likewise “Correct sah, I’m Issac, and it’s no problem at all.”
He pondered my name “Hmm, never heard a name like Issac before, where are you from?”
I was about to answer, but John overheard our conversation, and shot me a glance. I decided that it probably wasn’t best to say. I lied “I’m from an island far off into the West Sea.”
We conversed for a few more while eating blueberry scones the cooks made. I was amazed. I read in my book that hares had ravenous appetites, but the rate Artie was eating was astounding. Any food or drink that was in his range was immediately demolished in a matter of seconds, such as pies, tarts, pasties and drinks. I ate probably one fifth of what he did, and back on Earth, I ate plenty. I washed down the repast with a beaker of water, and refilled my quiver with arrows that were fired off from the vermin. I looked at the sunset, and wondered how it was setting even though it only felt like morning was but an hour ago.
Artie called. “Issac, John’s callin’ you for sentry duty. Bring your bow, and hope you stay awake.”
I said “Okay then!” and then told myself “Gosh, never been on sentry duty, wonder how I’ll pass 8 hours, without falling asleep.” I looked up at the campfires around me, sighed, and got up. I grabbed my bow, and ran over to the edge of the campfires, where John was waiting. “Hey there,” he said “here, take this blanket, and let’s talk”
I gladly accepted the blanket “Thanks John, so what’d you want to talk about?”
He questioned me “How was the experience of fighting for the first time? And have ye made any comrades yet?”
I thought for a moment “It was exhilarating, but killing feels cold-blooded.”
He understood clearly “That is bound to happen since you’re brought up well-mannered and nice, you should get used to the feeling, and maybe even may laugh. Just take it easy.”
I answered his other question “I’m friends with a hare, named Arthur. I never thought that hares would eat that much. He ate like mad”
He chuckled “Yes, that’s how all hares are, which is why our cooks are thinking of resigning. Here, you go to sleep, and I’ll watch, I’ll wake you up in an hour.” I wondered how he was going to tell an hour, but I pushed it out of my mind, and promptly went to sleep.
I was woken up by John, and he led me to a wide open spot. “Hey! Wake up! You need to see this perfect sunrise.” I gazed at the rising sun; it’s mellow, golden hue climbing over the mountains.
It reminded me of an egg. “John, can we have breakfast?”
He was amazed “My gosh,” he said “youe lookin’ at a beautiful sunrise, and yore thinking about breakfast?” His stomach growled “Alright, let’s go.” We laughed on our way to the tables, where salads and strawberry cordial were waiting.
Suddenly a knife shot through the air, and it hit me, hilt end. I was engulfed in darkness.