Name: Raun Swiftbrook
Species: Brown freshwater otter
Age: 65 (Human years)
Occupation: Herbalist, traveler, storyteller
Raun was tall in his youth, but later in life became slightly hunched over, making it hard to get around. He wears a dirty dark-green hooded cloak because he never got used to wearing Abbey tunics. He took to wearing it about the age of forty and never wore anything else. He wears three very different necklaces made from twine and carved wood, shells and rocks. He still wears a belt on the inside of his cloak, around his tunic (traveling tunics are different) on which is looped a simple pouch of herbs. He doesn't need to use herbs much anymore and so has taken, instead, to picking and drying herbs for the cook. He carries an old knotted cane made from a cedar root coated with a thick resin, but carries no weapon whatsoever. His eyes are blue-green, he has a few scars (but none are visible and they really don't have any significance) his fur has not changed to silver yet, much to the surprise of many, but nevertheless, it lacks the sheen of a younger otter's fur.
He has his oak cane, his set of green tunics, his cloak, a black leather belt, a herbal pouch, a short-sword and dagger (packed away under his bed) and number of relics collected on his journeys, all packed into a chest under his bed: A small ruby from Salamandastron, presented to him by an old Badger Lord, a rusted and broken dagger won in a memorable fight, a medallion passed down to him by his great-great grandfather who fought in a Battle at Salamandastron (In the Long Patrol, creatures fighting in the battle were given these tokens. If otters got something different, feel free to correct me), the feather of a hawk he found in the Northlands, the tooth of a shark laying on the seashore and a polished black rock from the caves of Martin and Luke. Raun guessed it must have been left there by somebeast who lost it many years ago. He considered that it might by a jetstone.
- An incredible storyteller. Has stories from almost every place imaginable, short of Castle Marl, Loamhedge and the high north of Mossflower.
- He knows nearly every plant, bird and fish seen in Mossflower, their names and the uses of most
- Knows the stars like the back of his paw. What constellations he didn't know the names of, he made names for them. He could direct you anywhere by the night sky.
- Carves like a master
- Talented in the art of teaching
- Though he can no longer fight, he is familiar with the basics of swordplay and would make a very worthy teacher of it
- Can no longer swim efficiently due to extreme emaciation
- Cannot life heavy objects
- His eyesight isn't bad, but it isn't very good either
- He can't stand hotroot, the greatest curse of an otter
- Never was able to get the hang of bows and arrows… darn things... (I personally love them, though)
- Is not sort-tempered, but if he loses it at all it's best not to be the one who's owing the apology
Raun was an explorer from the time that he was born and left his holt at a very young age. Eventually he even took to the sea and he didn't return for quite some time. When he did return he refused to tell anyone where it was he had gone. Then he continued his explorations in Mossflower and the lands surrounding it, visiting Redwall more than once. Some time later, he returned to his holt, only to find it abandoned. He hunted after them a few years, but, not finding them, went back to Redwall to stay.