C
ChrisBradford
Guest
This is very much a work in progress. It's still little more than a teaser, but I am actively writing it.
Every night when beasts, woodlander and vermin alike, go to bed, they do so secure in the knowledge that the world around them is fundamentally sane. The Sun rises in the East and sets in the West. The seasons pass in their eternal cycle. Vermin warlords covet Redwall Abbey and, one after the other, try in vain to defeat the abbey's Champions and make Redwall theirs. Events in two very different and far-flung worlds would soon all too permanently prove to the beasts of Mossflower just how false that belief has been.
The final death of the Mossflowerian's self-assurance with their place in the Universe began innocuously enough. It started with a conversation.
"Earth's primary Citadel has fallen, severing all portal links to the planet. Our forces there have become stranded."
"How can this be? No Citadel has fallen, ever."
"Outside interference has been detected. We are working to re-establish communications and transport. Reinforcements will be sent to sterilize the infection."
"What of our newest discovery?"
"Inhabitants are primitive though the world has abundant resources. Also, the inhabitants have potential to be Benefited to a degree far beyond the humans of Earth."
"Then they shall join the Universal Union. Transport a Citadel there, immediately."
"As you wish, Chief Advisor."
The worst summer storm to hit Mossflower in a badger's age had finally abated and the residents of Redwall came up from Cavern Hole to begin what was sure to be the work of many days cleaning up. When they opened the doors leading from the Main Hall to the courtyard, the beasts in the lead were rendered immobile and speechless by the view that greeted them.
"What's the hold-up? I've been cooped up in Cavern Hole for so long that I'm beginning to understand the moles' jabber. I want to feel the sun on my fur, before I start talking like them," complained Bartholomew, the otter's Skipper.
"Thing, big thing," a squirrel said in a strangled squeak.
The otter pushed his way through the throng blocking the doors and saw for himself what had stupefied those who were ahead of him. Some distance to the north, a blue monolithic tower soared to incredible heights above the trees. It was impossible to say how far into the sky the spire rose, because its top was lost in the clouds. "Twist my rudder, what is that?"
"More to the point, Bartholomew, you should be asking how it came to be, and how its presence will affect us," Sleipnir, Redwall's badger Abbot said to the otter as he too gazed up at the improbable tower that loomed over Mossflower Forest and Redwall.
Every night when beasts, woodlander and vermin alike, go to bed, they do so secure in the knowledge that the world around them is fundamentally sane. The Sun rises in the East and sets in the West. The seasons pass in their eternal cycle. Vermin warlords covet Redwall Abbey and, one after the other, try in vain to defeat the abbey's Champions and make Redwall theirs. Events in two very different and far-flung worlds would soon all too permanently prove to the beasts of Mossflower just how false that belief has been.
The final death of the Mossflowerian's self-assurance with their place in the Universe began innocuously enough. It started with a conversation.
"Earth's primary Citadel has fallen, severing all portal links to the planet. Our forces there have become stranded."
"How can this be? No Citadel has fallen, ever."
"Outside interference has been detected. We are working to re-establish communications and transport. Reinforcements will be sent to sterilize the infection."
"What of our newest discovery?"
"Inhabitants are primitive though the world has abundant resources. Also, the inhabitants have potential to be Benefited to a degree far beyond the humans of Earth."
"Then they shall join the Universal Union. Transport a Citadel there, immediately."
"As you wish, Chief Advisor."
The worst summer storm to hit Mossflower in a badger's age had finally abated and the residents of Redwall came up from Cavern Hole to begin what was sure to be the work of many days cleaning up. When they opened the doors leading from the Main Hall to the courtyard, the beasts in the lead were rendered immobile and speechless by the view that greeted them.
"What's the hold-up? I've been cooped up in Cavern Hole for so long that I'm beginning to understand the moles' jabber. I want to feel the sun on my fur, before I start talking like them," complained Bartholomew, the otter's Skipper.
"Thing, big thing," a squirrel said in a strangled squeak.
The otter pushed his way through the throng blocking the doors and saw for himself what had stupefied those who were ahead of him. Some distance to the north, a blue monolithic tower soared to incredible heights above the trees. It was impossible to say how far into the sky the spire rose, because its top was lost in the clouds. "Twist my rudder, what is that?"
"More to the point, Bartholomew, you should be asking how it came to be, and how its presence will affect us," Sleipnir, Redwall's badger Abbot said to the otter as he too gazed up at the improbable tower that loomed over Mossflower Forest and Redwall.
