OOC: This story is open to anyone brave enough to go down the mole hole.

BIC:            Penblade laughed like a dibbun as a horde of young abbey babes swarmed over him. He stood beneath a spreading pear tree, next to the old upturned wheelbarrow.
"Hurr, tell usn's e' stury misser badger zur," Asked a little mole babe named Gulm.
"Ha ha ha! Alright! Hee hee! Alright!" Penblade laughed and giggled as the dibbuns started to climb up his robe and tickle him. He stumbled back and the dibbuns all rushed squeaking and giggling to get out of the way of the falling badger. Penblade teetered on the verge of overbalancing for a second, then he fell back on top of the wheelbarrow.
With an explosion like crash he landed on the barrow, turning it to matchwood…
And kept falling...
And falling...
And falling.
The dibbuns coughed as the dust that had collected beneath the wheelbarrow over countless seasons was kicked up by the falling badger. As the dust cleared there was a faraway thud and shout.
"ow!"
The dibbuns slowly gathered around the hole that had been revealed beneath the old wheelbarrow.
Gulm examined the hole closely, "Hurr, et be e' moler hole."
"Help!" came a muted cry from far below, "Is there anyone up there? Get help!" The dibbuns quickly scattered in all directions to search for help as Penblade called up to the now empty orchard, It's dark down here!"

A small mousebabe toddled into the infirmary with a look of shock on his face, and attached himself to Rorgus’ leg.  “Mithta Penblade just falled down ee deep hole!  Down an’ down an’ down an’ down an’ down’ an’ down an’ down an’ down an’…”  Tristin cut the dibbun off:  “Er, yes.  Might I ask what hole, and where?  Quickly now, and we may be able to arrive before what’s-his-dagger hits the bottom.”  Sister Arnica glared reproachfully at the weasel.  “Mr. St Caens!  This is not the time for cheap jokes!  Action must be taken, and fast!  For all we know Mr. Penblade is lying crippled at the bottom of one of Old Kotir’s dungeons.”

“You’re right, of course.  My sincerest apologies.  Danker, we must leave you for the present.  If you feel well enough, you come with us and take part in your first official chore at Redwall.”  Tristin seized a coil of rope and a vegetable oil lantern from a broom closet, and together with Rorgus and Sister Arnica raced outside, where in the orchard they could see an agitated crowd of infant animals squeaking and pointing at something obscured by strawberry bushes.

As they ran, Tristin felt he had to ask a question.  “Would you be so awfully kind as to answer a question for me, Sister?”   Arnica nodded in an out-of-breath way.  “Who is this Mithta, er, Mister Penblade?”

Sister Arnica shook her head, "The biggest dibbun there is, pretty much sums him up. He comes by here to wait out the winter and eat our food. Don't get me wrong, he's a nice enough badger, but sometimes, he feels the need to repay us with music instead of a story," She shuddered involuntarily, "ih, dying beasts sound better than him, believe me."

Rorgus raced after Tristin.
" Oh great not Penblade!" He said exasperated. He helped Tristin carry the rope down to the orchard. He saw the group of dibbuns crowding around the whole.
" Now you young uns get away from that hole or you'll fall in too." He scooped up a few dibbuns and took them to the pond with the others whooping and following along behind.
" Oh goody do we gets to play inna pond mithta Rorgy?"
" Yes you may but stay out of the deep water. Danker can you watch these little rouges please? I have to go get Penblade out of that hole!" With that he dashed off back to the orchard.

He arrived at the hole an grabbed one end of the rope.
"Tristin could you lower me down please, I'm going to see if he's all right and explore a little bit. Sister Arnica could you get me a torch. I'll need it.
When Sister Arnica came back with the torch Tristin started lowering. When he reached the bottom he shouted.
"I found him!He's all right! Now were going to explore.  " With that he and Penblade went off through the tunnels.

"Okay little ones,uh….stay out of the deep end."He waded out into the pond in case one dibbun decides to be corages."The water is nice and warm it is."He kneels down in the water that goes over the shortest dibbuns head."Hows the search going fellas?"

Penblade held the torch low, which was about head height to any other beast, and squinted through the gloom. He and Rorgus walked slowly down the ancient looking tunnel, "So, is everybody up there really choked up about my predicament?" He asked Rorgus, "Uh, I mean, you're not the only one are you? There are others coming, right? Moles and such, who could get me out of here, 'cause uh, I don't do so well with dark places."

Rorgus was so exited about exploring the tunnel. He forgot he didn't like being underground " Don't worry, I think Tristin and Formole are coming. I'll keep you company. Lets go explore!" Rorgus was eager to find out where it lead to.

Soon Formole arrived with a gang of moles. They all went on together. They rounded a corner to find…...!  A monster! He couldn't tell what it was right off. Rorgus dove for cover as the monster struck at him. Then when he regathered his wits he saw what it was. It was a giant yellow eel! Behind it he saw an opening where the eel had come up. It was like a well and it led to an under ground stream. He drew his dirk and waited for the eel to strike again. When it did he drove his dirk at the back of its neck it writhed in agony and jerked Rorgus around with it. He was thrown against a wall and blacked out. The ell retreated back into the water for the time being.

OOC: Don't worry Rorgus, I just had an idea fo something Penblade might say before Foremole got there.

BIC: "Oh goody, there's a weasel coming. I feel SOOOOO much better… wait did you say explore?! I don't do so well with exploring. The last time I went exploring, I tried to explore a bee hive and, HEY wait for me!! Don't leave me alone down here!!" Penblade ran after Rorgus as he hurried ahead.

Tristin answered Danker’s query.  “How’s the search going?  To be honest, I haven’t a blasted clue.  Rorgus and the moles slid down, and that is the last that I have seen or heard of them.”  The weasel gave a rebellious snort.  “Huh, off they go on their adventure, without so much as a by-your-leave or a do-you-want-to-come-along.”  He tightened the harness from which his rapier hung and hooked a small lantern to his belt.  “Well I’ve had enough of that.  It’s always ‘Tristin, do this’ or ‘Tristin, do that’, and nobody ever stops to think whether old Tristin would like to come along for the fun.  I’m going in after them, even if they are miles off in some forgotten tunnel which I could never find.  Are you coming, Danker?”

The weasel anchored the rope in the ground with a passing garden stake, and, wrapping the cord around his paw, proceeded to descend into the dark hole, leaving a dazed looking Sister Arnica gazing after him.  “Now I wonder what that was all about?”

The hint of adventure was to much for Danker."I'm sorry Sister Arnica,could you please watch the dibbuns?I'm coming Tristin!"He made his way to the hole and started climbing down.

Penblade pressed himself against the tunnel wall as the eel thrashed about, "What in the name of seasons is that?!" He saw the… thing, retreat back into the water with a trail of blood running behind it. Rorgus lay against the opposite wall, unconscious. He pushed his way through the crowd of moles and gently picked the otter. He handed the torch to Foremole and swiftly turned and started marching back the way they'd come, "Let's get out of here. I don't know about you, but I don't do so well with monsters."

Tristin and Danker reached the bottom of the mole hole, and Tristin lit his little lantern.  "Ugh, it is rather dreadfully oppressive down here… The best way to get rid of that feeling would be to cruise forward, I suppose.  There seem to be no offshoots from this tunnel for now, so, off we go to find our mates.  I wonder where they could possibly be?"

The weasel put his paws to his lips and whistled loudly-  "COOOEEE!  Penblade!  Rorgus!  Anybody there?"

"WHAT IS THAT!?"Danker spots the injured ell barreling forward toward them."RUN TRISTIN RUN!!"Danker took off in the opposite direction at an amazing speed,screaming at the top of his lungs.

"BOLLUCKS!"  Tristin threw himself against the wall of the tunnel as the eel surged forward in a blind rage.  His survival instincts triggered, he smashed the oil lantern in the creature's face and rolled backwards, drawing his poigniard with his uninjured arm and poising himself to fight for his life.  "IF ANYBEAST IS OUT THERE, ASSISTANCE WOULD BE GREATLY APPRECIATED!!

As the eel lunged forward, intent on fresh weasel for dinner, Tristin mused to out loud to himself. "Twice in one day.  This is intolerable!"  The eel struck, and at the same instant a massive badger appeared in the tunnel, now blocked by the battling eel and weasel.  Tristin clung to the monster fish's thick upper body, and stabbed repeatedly.  "Help!  Assistance!  You there, badger, you look like just the chap to help me!  Be nippy, and break this monster's neck, if you would be so kind.  I question whether I will be able to hold on much longer…"

Penblade ran forward, still carrying Rorgus. He heard somebeast yell, but didn't know who.
  Suddenly, he rounded a corner and arrived at the hole he'd fallen through. In the faint sunlight coming down the shaft, he saw the same eel he was trying to escape from battling with a weasel!
  "Is my luck that bad!!!" He howled to no one in particular. The eel turned from the weasel and Penblade could almost see it start to drool as it looked at him. He twisted and pressed his front to the tunnel wall as the eel sped forward and bit at where he'd just been, but with Rorgus in his arms, Penblade overbalanced. He fell backward on top of the eel's still extended neck.
  There was a sickening crunch and Penblade looked at the limp eel's head from his seat on its neck, "Ick. Uh, sorry about that, clumsy me."

Tristin wiped his forehead, now damp with hot sweat, and addressed the badger.  "Gosh, thanks!  I'll admit that I wasn't quite expecting you to do it that way, but I guess the end justifies the means, eh?  You must be the Penblade we keep hearing about."  He cleaned his poigniard carelessly on his blouse, and continued.  "I'm Tristin St. Caens.  How do you do?  Er, aside from being having one of the old fins nearly munched by a rogue minnow, that is.  If you could tell me how in the name of all things dangerous you managed to end up down here, I would be greatly obliged."

Just then  Mouse slid down the rope to see what was happening when he heard shouting. When he reached the bottom he saw the eel and drew his sword just in-case. He watched as Penblade killed the monster.

He helped carrie the eel to the water hole where t came up then shoving it into the water watched t dissapear. With that he went back up the rope to get more oil and another lantern.

Penblade had set Rorgus against the wall and he was now quite distressed, "Oh how could I have killed that poor… thing. It wasn't hurting anybody, er, yet."
  He looked up at Tristin's question as Mouse walked past, dragging the eel, "Huh? Oh! Yeah, I'm Penblade alright, nice to meet you Tristin. And as to how I got here, well, I was playing with the dibbuns in the orchard," He pointed up, "Then I fell over and broke the wheelbarrow. I fell down a tunnel, landed on my tail, and..."
  He froze and stopped in midsentence. His paw shot behind him, and his gaze flew to the eel's mouth.
  "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!" He screamed like a banshee when he saw the black tuft of badger fur hanging out of the eel's mouth.

"Poor thing..!?"  Tristin's eyes popped in shock.  "POOR THING?  That 'poor thing' was coldly intent on my carcass being on its best stoneware platter, laid to rest on a bed of VEGATABLE CUTLETS for EVENING TEA!!  You need to realize that…"  Tristin paused, startled as the badger let out an unearthly wail and pointed to the bunch of black fur in the dead fish's mouth.  "Ahhh."  He tried unsuccessfully not to laugh.  "Uh... uh huh huh ha haha hahaa ha!!  Now then!  Not hurting anybody yet, eh?  Hahahaha!   You seem to be the first and (by a good bit of luck on your part) only casualty."  The weasels tone became less biting.  "But I suppose everybody has a different reaction to combat.  Nice to meet you, Penblade.  I'm Tristin St. Caens."  He smiled extended his paw.  "Press the fur, and then we can figure out a way to get out of this pit.  Although I would be game to explore some more, if it would be alright with you..."

Penblade took the paw and squeezed it with all his considerable might, venting his frustration. Glaring at the weasel, he quickly changed his mind about the tunnel, "Alright nothin'. I'd stay down here ten seasons if that was how long it took my tail to regrow. A regiment of hares couldn't get me near the surface now, even if I was between them and dinner."
  He turned and growled at a group of moles who had gathered around his back and were chuckling and pointing at his furless tail.

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