#ballaw

[incorrectredwallquotes]

Ballaw: I will now attempt to saw this fox in half! Clogg: Neat! Felldoh, from inside the box: Ballaw, you’ve done this trick before, right? Ballaw: There’s a trick?

[oldfashionedbooklove]

Thoughts after reading Martin the Warrior for the second time ♥️

- I haven’t read many books that can transport you into a “too beautiful to be true” setting like Noonvale. Anne of Green Gables is the only equivalent. I don’t know how he does it because the descriptions are so cliché or basic, yet somehow you FEEL the peace and love and perfection…

- Felldoh. Oh my heart, Felldoh. He breaks me every time 😭 I want so much more for him, yet somehow he feels destined to his story. He’s such a great guy, really, when he isn’t consumed with justice and protection. I love him in juxtaposition to Martin. Both are warriors, both hate Badrang and intend to free the world from him, yet Martin has a larger nature that allows him to let go briefly, while Felldoh is obsessed. Even if Felldoh went with Martin & Rose to Noonvale he’d still be obsessed. I love Brome’s wise words about paths of vengeance, but also Felldoh’s & Martin’s wisdom in insisting we can’t just ignore evil and run from it but destroy it or not only will it hurt others as it hurt us, it will spread like a cancer.

- Martin, by the way, is something else. I don’t know why I love him so much but he’s amazing. Really. Such a fascinating, admirable character. I see why he’s the guardian of Redwall.

- I love the talk about bravery between Felldoh & Brome, about how not everyone can kill, and it’s good to be innocent, and being a healer is just as important and brave.

- Also…. poor little Juniper who gave his life… 💔 And I love Ballaw. He’s not as amusing as most hares but he’s good and noble and his words about stages and curtains fit things so WELL. And I have to mention Keyla, who’s absolutely amazing himself!!

- The last few pages are terribly beautiful. I still don’t understand why SHE had to die… really. I know the plot demands it in a way, but… why? She can’t really be… she’s too vibrant to just cease. But oh, Martin, my heart hurts for you so much. And his words about memories… ♥️

- There’s things and parts in the Redwall books that are silly and cliché and poorly written, and remind me he wrote these for kids. Then there’s some supremely awful and beautiful bits that remind me why I adore these books and why Martin is my favourite of them all…

- and the Treehouse TV show is so good for this book ♥️

*edited 23.1.24

[happytapirstudio]

Redwall Reread #2: Martin the Warrior

2nd in chronological order, 6th in publication order (1993)

(major spoilers under the cut)

Summary: A young mouse warrior named Martin escapes from slavery at the evil fortress Marshank and journeys to the hidden valley of Noonvale to raise an army, destroy Marshank, free the slaves, and seek vengeance against the stoat tyrant, Badrang.

Framing Device: Two travelers stop by Redwall Abbey one winter night and tell this story to the creatures there.

The Goodies: Martin’s our main boy, obviously.  Felldoh the squirrel, a fellow slave-turned-warrior, is also a key player.  Then we have the critters from Noonvale: Rose (full name Laterose) and her little brother Brome, both mice, plus her friend Grumm the mole.  While Martin, Rose, and Grumm travel to Noonvale, they recruit the hedgehog Pallum.  They also encounter a variety of beasties: a tribe of savage pygmy shrews, the lovely mole wife Polleekeen, a family of stuffy rabbits, and a rowdy horde of squirrels, plus of course the denizens of Noonvale, including Rose’s mom and dad.  Back at Marshank, we’ve got a whole host of slaves, who later team up with a group of traveling performers, the Rambling Rosehip Players, whose most notable members are Ballaw the hare and Rowanoak the badger.

The Baddies: Two stoats ((two of them))!  Badrang the Tyrant, former corsair, now the cruel and calculating ruler of Marshank, and Captain Tramun Clogg, his old sea-going partner.  Each of them have their own little vermin swarm, among which the only individual really worth mentioning is Hisk the weasel, Badrang's head slavedriver and personal enemy of Felldoh.

The Freakies: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, it is time for...REDWALL HERPETOFAUNA.  This demands an entire essay but for now I will just say we’ve got a whole mess of reptiles and amphibians crawling around these here Marshwood Hills.

The Birdies: The Warden of Marshwood Hill, a grey heron.  AND.  Boldred, the map-making short-eared owl, and her husband Hortwingle (a stay-at-home dad) and daughter Emalet.  AND.  A cute little dipper who Rose befriends in Marshwood Hill.  Special shoutout to the various unnamed seabirds, particularly the one who steals that piece-of-shit baby shrew and tries feeding him to its hatchling.

Noteworthy Locations: All of this takes place in the northwestern region of the Known Redwall Universe, away from Mossflower Wood and the Western Sea.  Most of the time, we’re at or around Badrang’s Fortress, which backs up to a stretch of coastal marshes that includes Marshwood Hill up to the north.  Inland is a rich stretch of forest, including the idyllic Noonvale (which I high-key wish we’d revisit in later books), and a small mountain range/highland area.

Noteworthy Weapons: Martin the Warrior’s sword for sure.  Or, I guess, his dad’s sword.  For most of the book Martin’s using a pygmy shrew sword, which probably looks even more pathetic than I’ve been imagining.

Riddles: Just a little one...when Martin and friends ask Polleekeen for directions to Noonvale, she provides them with a short riddle.

Continuity Notes: This is a key story in the arc of Martin the Warrior (go figure, huh), and we also get some significant insight into Luke very early on.  Apart from that, the only other scraps come from the pro- and epilogue: the storytelling takes place after Mariel of Redwall, with characters from that story.  The travelers are descendants of Brome and Pallum.  One of them brings Rose’s namesake from Noonvale: the seedling of a variety of late-blooming rose, which, once planted in spring, will become a characteristic component of Redwall’s appearance.

Other Notes: I believe this is the only book where rabbits make an appearance?  I mean I straight-up forgot they ever made an appearance at all, that’s how rare they are.  Additionally, the previous book I read (Brocktree), which takes place in a coastal terrain like this one, also features a grey heron and short-eared owl on its bird roster.  The birds’ personalities are very different, though.

Tapir Takes:

(1) The B in Badger stands for Butch.

(2) I wrote down “Martin acting like the protag of an 80’s film” and I stand by it.  If these were humans, he’d be the tanned youth with blue eyes and sandy-blond hair tousled by the sea wind.  This vision came to me when he was rescuing that pygmy shrew nuisance from the seabirds.  It also re-contextualized that earlier period of time when he first meets Rose, and he’s freaking head-over-heels, stuttering over his words, goo-goo-eyed and ga-ga-faced.  Insufferable. Disney Channel Original Movie-type shit.  Thank god it goes away after a couple chapters.

(3) Similarly, Rose acts like a damsel-in-distress more often than I'd expect? Ultimately yes I'd characterize her as a warrior first and a princess second, but there are still moments where she reacts to things in a distinctly feminine way (screams, passes out, paralyzed with terror), while her male companions do not.

(4) And then Martin will jump to her defense so fast!!! He is her freaking white knight. They'll all be laughing at a joke, but the moment it turns sour against Rose, Martin will intervene. And as a whole they are sooo codependent. Like when Martin was just hurling himself at the gates of Marshank and Rose was the only one able to pull him away (which I think she knew...the calmness she approached him with suggests a confidence in her own ability to get him to see reason.) She's always talking reason to him, but she herself will also do reckless things because of him, and ultimately gets herself killed running into battle alongside him. In many ways this is a really well-crafted tragedy. To me. It's also, in other ways, really freaking obnoxious (see point 2). To me.

(5) Returning to Gender for a moment. Overall, the girls in this book are a lot more finicky and shallow than they were in Brocktree. (These volumes were written nearly a decade apart, so perhaps that explains it.) I'm thinking primarily of Celandine the squirrel, secondarily of that whiny old mouse lady. For sure, there are just as many, if not more, grizzly girl warriors than there are damsels in distress, but Celandine's character still surprised me. And, like a lot of other things about this book, something about it feels a little corny, a little melodramatic, and pointedly one-dimensional in a jarring way.

(6) I can't wait to write about warriors in Redwall. This book is chock-full of characters, scenes, and quotes that illuminate the various facets of Redwall Warrior Culture. Stuff about the nature of a warrior's spirit, the inherent grief and tragedy of the warrior's destiny, the importance of nonviolence roles (while also emphasizing that such roles must coexist and cannot be substituted for one another.) Essay forthcoming, indeed.

(7) Martin definitely has some of the blandest Redwall villains.  I remember Cloggs, and the double-assassination scene is always fresh in my mind, but I think that’s mostly from watching the TV show between my initial and present read of this book.  It’s particularly upsetting to me because everyone in the book insists Badrang is pure evil, but there’s very little to demonstrate that evilness.  He’s just a slave-owner, something most Redwall villains already are.  I think the evilest thing we see him do is leave Martin out for the seabirds, but after that all he does is yell at his underlings and dish out insults.  And besides that, he has no personality, especially compared to Cloggs.

(8) The frenemy angle between Badrang and Cloggs could’ve been so much more interesting than it was!!!!  The crossed-wires assassination was cool and I wish we’d had more stuff like that!!!

(9) Druwp is a really interesting character.  Really, really interesting.  Tucking him away for later.

(10) I don’t like what Jacques does with his herpetofauna, and I don’t like how he does it two more times in this book, first with the pygmy shrews and then with the Gawtrybe.  You know what I’m talking about.  Essay forthcoming.

(11) The Marshwood Hill arc (?) did prove something important to me, though! Something I mentioned in my Brocktree post! Is it cannibalism to eat another talking animal, even if they're a different species? YES!!!!!! The denizens of Marshwood are called cannibals several times because they eat any travelers that come near their marsh. However, when the Warden eats them, it's treated differently. It's gross and perhaps excessively strict, but he is not called a cannibal, or considered to be stooping down to the frogs/lizards/snakes' level. Perhaps the definition of cannibalism excludes birds? When life closes an answer God opens a question. Wait that's not how that goes

(12) The end of this book always felt very sudden to me. I think that's equal parts an intentional choice on Jacques' part and an inevitable consequence of the tragedy genre. Still, I feel there should've somehow been more padding around Rose's death and the last few chapters.

(13) I mentioned the show earlier.  So I’ll drop my Redwall TV Show Story here: I watched the show before I found the books.  Loved the show.  They adapted three Redwall books: the original, the direct sequel (Mattimeo), and this prequel.  I actually own the original on DVD, somehow.  At any rate, I watched religiously as they aired in chronological order on PBS, but then during a playdate with my neighbor, whose mom did not let her watch this show because it was “too violent” (pffffft baby) ((we were four)), I missed an episode early on in the third season and totally fell off the wagon!  It haunts me to this day.  I tried rewatching it when it was on Netflix, but I just couldn’t get into it.  I might do so now, though.  Just found out via the Redwall Wiki that they transed Pallum’s gender.  A huge win for feminism.

OVERALL:  I think I remember being not a huge fan of this book when I first read it.  Well I hate to say it but I’m definitely not a huge fan now!  It seems it had the makings of a good story, but the delivery fell somewhat short. Still, it had its moments <3

[rae1347]

WELCOME TO PRIDE MONTH!!! WHILE I WORK ON THE DARK FOREST HEADCANON POST HERE'S A LIST OF MY MARTIN THE WARRIOR HOT TAKES :^)

I will not rest until every character has been claimed for the los-geebities (lgbts)

I know I missed some so by all means feel free to invade my ask box or the reblogs with additional fuel for this venture

[lostmidnightwriter]

Redwall Characters as Parks and Rec gifs 2:

Dotti, looking at a mirror:

Martin the Warrior:

Gonff:

Coloner Clary to Pakatugg:

Basil Stag Hare:

Slagar leading the slaves to Malkariss:

Lord Brocktree, about Dotti and Ruff:

Ballaw de Quincewold:

[redwallthoughts]

Midwinter Miracle: Chapter 3 Preview

For those who have been waiting for an update... I have been working on it, I promise. So, without further ado.

Martin shook himself and grinned, pulling the basket of scones closer before Gonff could snatch another one. He selected a wheat scone, then turned to the guests with a sheepish smile on his face. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got a terrible feeling I interrupted something when I came to the table.”

“Brome was just about to tell us how the Rambling Rosehip Players came to be in Mossflower this winter,” Bella said, simultaneously slapping Gonff’s paw away from her plate.

“Pish tosh. Nothing to apologize for young sir-me-warrior,” the hare to Gonff’s left said. “How were you to bally well know we were swapping tales, eh? I say, d’you mind passing that leek pastie sittin’ in front o’ the good abbess? Thank you very much, wot wot.”

Martin slid the pastie over to the friendly hare. “You’ve welcome, sir.” The hare snorted and flopped his ears comically. “Sir? Sir who? The name’s Ballaw de Quincewold, laddybuck, not sir.”

“Beg pardon sir, er, Ballaw,” Martin said, chuckling. He held out a paw. “I’m Martin the Warrior.”

Ballaw glanced up from the pastie long enough to give Martin’s paw a firm shake and say, “Martin the Warrior, eh? I should certainly hope you’re a warrior, what with that big ol’ sword you’ve got there. Wouldn’t want something like that in the paws of somebeast called, oh, say ‘Fred the fisher’. No, a blade like that belongs in the paws of a real warrior. Mph, this pastie is absolutely superb, I must be sure to thank the cook.”

[scrivenerofmossflower]

Martin of Mossflower Chapter 15

Word Count: 3k read on ao3 Chapter Summary: Volunteers set out to deliver food to Ferdy and Coggs, unaware that they’re walking into an ambush. 

First Chapter : : Previous Chapter 

The line of woodlanders who had volunteered to ferry food to Kotir set out in the early afternoon. Mostly noncombatants and a scattering of new friends from Loamhedge, they were flanked by Skipper's crew, while Amber's troop swung through the lower terraces of the canopy.

“Do you ever feel as if you're inviting trouble, going armed?” Columbine asked Gonff and Martin. The three of them walked abreast near the back of the party, with Sayna and Dinny close behind them. “It feels almost as if we're asking to be attacked.”

“Y’ never know what the cat is plannin’,” Gonff said reasonably. “If we do get attacked, better t’ be prepared for it than t’ be caught off guard.”

“I suppose,” Columbine said, though she still sounded doubtful. “I just don't see why we have to fight at all. Surely Tsarmina will give up?”

“She won’t,” Martin said with a shake of his head.

“She’ll have to,” Columbine said, just as firmly. “Ballaw keeps saying an army marches on his stomach, and he's right. If she can't feed her soldiers, and she can't find us, she'd have to admit defeat. Wouldn't she, Miss Sayna?”

Martin spoke before his mother could. “Tsarmina's not rational enough to give up, even if it meant she and her army would starve. She would never let us simply escape and live in the woods on our own.”

“Peace, you two,” Sayna said. “Columbine's right, Martin—deciding to fight is deciding to put lives at risk. And not just your own,” Sayna added, cutting off his protest before it could form. “But Columbine, I'm afraid Martin has a point as well. We won't be free until Tsarmina and her army are gone from Mossflower, and though it is true that she must be having some trouble keeping her soldiers supplied, I do not believe she is likely to simply leave.”

Martin gnawed on his lip, thinking again what he'd been turning over and over in his head since the previous summer. Tsarmina was only part of the problem. He'd listened to the Corim's reminisces and speculations. Mossflower was a peaceful country, undefended, ripe for conquest, yes: but it was the fortress that had caught the wildcat's attention seasons before he was born. If Tsarmina was driven out, there was nothing to stop another warlord from coming in to exert his own power. More and more, Martin was convinced that Kotir itself must be destroyed. Though how he would go about doing that, Martin couldn't begin to imagine.

“The price of driving her and her army out will be high, though,” Sayna said. “The price of war always is so.” Martin glanced over at her, only to see her gazing in his direction, eyes unfocused. Not for the first time, he wondered if she was thinking of his father.

The small group walked in silence for a time, before Gonff bounced his haversack higher across his shoulders and said, “Race ye to that two-topped hawthorn.”  

Distracted by his own thoughts, Martin blinked. “What?” But the mousethief was already gone, with Columbine on his tail as the both of them pelted towards the tree. “Hey, wait, not fair!” Martin took off after the couple, Dinny close behind.

Sayna watched all four dash ahead, dodging around the others in the party and shouting apologies when they came a bit too close to jostling someone. Gonff never could stand to let things be serious for very long, she thought fondly. He was so good for them all.

Still a little shaken by the encounter below the dungeons with the Gloomer, Mask spent the morning and afternoon of his second day in Kotir avoiding officers and waiting for darkness to fall. He'd lifted plenty of useful information, and more than once had heard snatches of Ballaw's song being hummed under the breath of a bored soldier on duty. He hadn't managed to make contact with Gingivere and the two hogbabes, but that was Chibb's department for the moment.

He'd seen Tsarmina send Cludd out with a small, lightly armored force, and guessed the cat hoped they'd be able to catch any search parties sent out to find Ferdy and Coggs. Mask couldn't help but be a bit disappointed in Tsarmina for that. Did she really think it would take them a full day to realize two of their own were missing, especially two who were so very young?

Still, when Cludd came hurrying back before evening like someone had set fire to his tail, Mask's blood had run cold. Unnoticed, he shadowed the weasel on his way to report to the queen, and had to duck quickly out of sight behind a corner when Cludd almost collided with her on the way up the stairs.

“Milady, I've come with expert intelligence on the movements of the woodlanders—”

“Yes, I already know,” Tsarmina cut him off. “Get four platoons ready to leave by the southern gate—they're heading for the eastern wall. We can circle around and cut them off that way.”

Mask listened intently to the voices that echoed down the stairwell, wondering what on earth the Corim's plans were. Why had they sent a group to Kotir? What was going on? Mask started down the stairway, determined to get outside the walls so he could warn his friend.

He was brought up short by a gruff shout from behind him. “You there! Weasel!” Cursing under his breath but careful to keep the frustration from his face, Mask turned. Cludd was stomping down the stairs. Mask lifted his borrowed spear in salute. “Come with me to the barracks. We'll be out on the parade ground and ready to march in five minutes, is that understood?”

“Yessir,” Mask rasped, knowing he'd lost any chance to slip away and warn the woodlanders to retreat now. Blast that weasel's hide! What a perfect time to manage to be competent!

Still steaming, Mask followed Cludd to the barracks, trying to think of a way to sabotage the ambush Tsarmina had planned.

The sun was just dipping below the horizon as they finally drew closer to Kotir. The party reconvened in a small clearing a half hour's march from the gates of Kotir, to organize and send scouts ahead. Chibb fluttered off to make sure Gingivere was expecting them and aware of their plan. Skipper and Amber took stock of their respective fighters, making sure they had full quivers and skins for slingstones. Sayna took charge of the rations, distributing them through her dozen or so volunteers and asking one last time if anyone wished to stay behind.

The last quick march was made in almost absolute silence as they met at an oak near to Kotir's eastern wall. Chibb was pacing back and forth upon a low hanging branch, wings tucked neatly behind him. Amber dropped into a crouch right beside him, startling him into a short flight and a flurry of coughing.

“Madam!” he said reprovingly from a higher branch, once he had caught his breath. “Kindly consider a less startling method of announcing yourself!”

Amber gave him a sardonic look, and didn't reply. Instead, she unslung her bow from her shoulder and strung it. Chibb ruffled his feathers and hopped back down.

“Everything shipshape, Chibb?” Skipper called lowly from below.

Chibb cleared his throat twice before replying. “Ahem, yes, it certainly appears to be so, though I have my doubts.”

Skipper nodded seriously, though there was a slight amused twinkle in his eye. “We'll be here and gone before any soldiers can show up,” he said. “Or eagles.”

The party piled the ration packs at the bottom of the elm. The squirrels ferried them up the tree to Chibb as easily as walking over level ground. Sayna directed the whole operation, checking that each pack was light enough for Chibb to manage without trouble, and making sure the more substantial food was carried first.

“Mum?” Martin asked. Even as Sayna’s paws were steady and sure on each pack, her eyes darted about the surrounding woodlands. “Something wrong?”

Sayna paused in rebalancing two of the haversacks. “I’m fine,” she said, straightening to look around the clearing again. “It may just be Chibb's nerves getting to me, but I can't shake the feeling that—”

An arrow flew out of the dark and embedded itself in the elm a foot above her head.

Amber had notched an arrow to bowstring and sent it zipping back into the gloom before anyone else had processed what had happened, and right before a full volley of arrows buzzed through the air. “Ambush!” she hollered over the sudden noise of battle. “Ambush, take cover, all of you! Skip?”

“Ahead of ye, marm!” The otters had already fanned out into battle positions, screening the unarmed woodlanders from the soldiers. “C’mon, crew, that thicket looks a bit full. Give 'em a good rattlin’ broadside!”

The air buzzed with smooth riverstones, eliciting more squeals of pain and dismay from the contingent of soldiers still hidden in the underbrush. The enemy broke cover, wielding pikes and spears as they charged across the narrow sward. Tsarmina was in the lead, armored and helmeted, a sword in her clawed grip and the light of battle in her eyes.

“Steady,” Amber said, tail flat along the branch. Her troop were arrayed around her in the foliage of the elm, the soft creak of wood just audible as they pulled their bowstrings tight. She sighted down her own arrow, the back of her paw just brushing her cheek. “Steady, let them get a bit closer. Wait for my signal.”

Skipper heard the command and echoed it to his slingers. “Don't loose until the arrows 'ave flown,” he said, spinning his sling low. “Hold now, they're almost here. Martin, Gonff,” he added to the two mice in his ranks. “Once we launch this volley, ship out. Rearguard the rest, get 'em to safety.”

“Aye, aye, cap’n,” Gonff agreed for both of them, his usual cheerful smile grim as he swung his sling and picked out his target.

For their part, the noncombatants kept behind the line of otters. Under Sayna's direction, Columbine and Ben Stickle were grouping the wounded together in preparation of retreat. Sayna had sent the three moles in their party behind the back of the elm to dig an escape tunnel. They had had to circle farther beyond enemy lines to find ground firm enough to not risk collapsing under the stress of such a large escape. It was a more dangerous escape than Sayna would have liked, but she knew that Dinny, Billum, and Urthclaw would have dug closer if they felt they could risk it. The soldiers were unlikely to notice activity behind them when they were under attack by otters and squirrels, and Skipper and Amber would do all they could to mask their escape. It would have to do.

“Stay calm, stay quiet, and keep your heads down. We'll soon be safe,” Sayna assured the group as they slipped away.

Amber decided the approaching soldiers had come close enough. “Archers, fire!” Her voice rang clear over battlecries, threats, and taunts of the charging soldiers.

“Slings away!” Skipper bellowed immediately after, and a sound like hail hitting stone broke through the clearing. More screams and cries. Columbine wiped her eyes and took a deep breath, before squaring her shoulders and ducking under a brother's arm.

“Not long, now,” she said softly, echoing Sayna's words.

Gonff popped up on the other side, having disengaged after the initial volley as ordered. He gave her a reassuring smile. “C’mon. Let's get ye both to safety.” Martin was close behind them, helping up Ben when he tripped in the rush to get away.

Sayna entrusted the last of the rations to Brush and Birch, two brawny squirrels who'd duck around the side of Kotir with Chibb and finish the mission. Finished at last, she hurried after the retreating woodlanders.

Martin had chosen to act as a rearguard and was standing at the entrance to the escape tunnel when he saw her, skirt hitched up in both paws as she ran to catch up. Two of Tsarmina's ferrets saw her at the same moment.

“Mum!”

The mousewife looked up and took in the situation at a glance. Rather than lead the two soldiers to the escape tunnel, Sayna changed direction, taking off into the woods.

Without a second thought, Martin tore off after her.

Sayna yanked her skirt from yet another grasping bush and kept running, vowing to herself that, should she get out of this alive, she was never wearing skirts into Mossflower Woods again. There was no time to drop out of sight and hide, or even to plan much more than three steps ahead. Sayna dashed on, stumbling over roots and tussocks hidden in the darkness of Mossflower Woods.

The pair of weasels behind her hadn't slowed, and may even have been catching up. Ears pricked back to listen for her pursuers and her attention split, Sayna was taken by surprise when she broke free of the underbrush and into a clearing. Stars wheeled overhead as she went sprawling tail over ears. Sayna scrambled back to her feet, heart racing, and was halfway across the clearing when the weasels broke cover as well.

“C’mon, rebel, ain't nowhere else for ye to run,” one of them growled, though both he and his comrade was breathing hard. “You'll pay for running us about like that.”

“Ho, wait a second,” the second weasel said, rocking back on his heels and planting his spear butt first into the ground. “I thought ye said ye saw somebeast runnin' away. She's just some lil' mousewife. Ye ran us a mile around the forest for some lil' mousewife? Really?”

Sayna watched the pair of them warily, taking slow steps backwards. If she could get across the clearing and out the other side, she might make it home free.

“A rebel's a rebel!” the first weasel argued hotly, head turned over his shoulder but still coming closer. “And it'll be a lot easier to capture some mousewife and take 'er back to Tsarmina than one of those blasted otters!”

“She ain't gonna know nothing useful,” the second said, shaking his head. “Not worth it, mate, and definitely not worth chasin’—”

“Oi, you, don't move!” the first said, noting for the first time that Sayna was closer to the opposite side of the clearing now. “I’ll kill ye if ye take another step!”

“And I'll kill you if you lay a claw on my mother!”

“Martin,” Sayna breathed, and closed her eyes briefly, though whether in relief, exasperation, or fear even she couldn't have said. Of course he had followed them. Why had she ever assumed otherwise?

Martin had stopped at the edge of the clearing, sling loaded and ready in one paw, eyes burning as he stared down the pair of weasels. “You might think it easier to take a mouse than an otter or a squirrel, aye, but try it! Try it, and see how wrong you are!”

The second weasel looked about as frustrated as Sayna felt with this new development, but the first spat on the ground contemptuously. “Two o' ye and two o' us,” he said, gesturing between the pair of them. “An' any captives is better than none. We'll take ye both back to Kotir, and ye can try mouthing off to Tsarmina, see how far that gets ye.” He made a move towards Sayna, only for a rock to thwack hard against his spear, sending shocks reverberating all the way up his arm. “Yargh! Why, you little worm!”

Martin glared defiance at the soldier, wordlessly daring him to fight. For a moment, it looked as if it might work. The weasel snarled, and raised his spear as if to throw—only to turn and stab down at Sayna instead.

Three things happened at once. Sayna flung herself to one side, the spear tearing through her skirt and drawing a line of pain down her side. Martin screamed, horror and rage sounding to the treetops.

And the second weasel drove his spear into his companion's back. The weasel crumpled to the ground. He never knew what happened.

There was a brief silence as Sayna clutched her side, staring at the soldier from where she still say on the ground. “Sorry for lettin' ye be scared like that, marm,” he said, pulling the helmet off and scrubbing one paw through his head fur. Dust flaked free, leaving behind dark fur that looked almost black in the moonlight. “I’d hoped t'not have t'do that. Suppose I thought I could talk 'im out of it, but ah well.”

It took a moment for Sayna to get her mouth working again. “Mask?”

The disguised otter nodded, loosening and removing the slivers of wood that had narrowed his muzzle into something weasel-y. “Aye, marm. Saw this 'un go off after ye, and figured I'd be best served makin' sure you were all right. I thought I'd play dead back at the battlefield and slip off to rejoin our crew once they hauled anchor. I've got some news for the council, not all o' it good.”

Sayna took a deep breath, and nodded, gingerly picking herself up. “Your timing is deeply appreciated, friend. Thank you.”

Martin was there the instant she faltered, taking her weight entirely. She could feel him shaking, and his eyes were still wide, still a little wild. She straightened, put one arm about his shoulders, and pulled him down into a comforting hug, nuzzling against his ear. “Mum, you’re hurt—”

“I’m all right. It'll keep until we get to Brockhall, it's not deep.”

He relaxed into her slowly. “I was so angry. I saw you fall. I saw you die.”

“I didn’t.”

“I thought you did.”

“I didn’t,” Sayna repeated softly, squeezing him to her and pressing a kiss to his temple. “Come on, warrior. Let's get home.”

[elvenvishnu]

Couple of leaks with dishwasher supply line and sink spray line

I was putting my sink back in after installing counters and I discovered two leaks shown in the pictures. One is with the dishwasher shutoff valve (I can't tell what material it is made out of but it feels plastic/rubbery). The other is with the line on the sink to the spray hose. It is leaking at the spot indicated not at the connection. I tried putting Teflon tape on both but to no avail. Is there a workaround for patching up these leaks, or do I have to get a new sink and install a new shutoff valve? Thanks for any help!

https://preview.redd.it/wegkrt6m66f71.jpg?width=1245&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=382dda41ef229ae716b3ab5ba1e6c975ad0a82a8

https://preview.redd.it/xmhnkv6m66f71.jpg?width=1245&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=f6aaad86392de8b07a86598dd1c994c1ba57e34c

submitted by /u/Ballaw [link] [comments]

from Plumbing help offered here, please post pictures. https://ift.tt/3fKCh4P

[redwall-lyrics]

“From the deepest darkest dungeons, ‘Neath the mountains of the moon, Comes the dreadful dagger of death, To bring a creature to sad doom!”

“No no, no no! Not I, Not I. One so young and pretty as me Is far too fair to die!”

“See how sharp an’ murderous is me blade. Who would like to see me kill maid?

Badrang, your name is feared throughout the land. My Lord, I kill this maid at your command!

Alas no more I’ll laugh or sing. I’ve murdered her, the pretty little thing!”

“Nor more I’ll see the dawning o’er the trees, Nor see the golden sunlight in the sky, The seasons change, the birds, the flow’rs, the bees. Alack a day, poor me who has to die!”

“Here lies a young maid who’s been killed. With my own paw I thrust the knife. Without a drop of her blood spilled. See, I bring her back to life. Hocus pocus dumbeldum dreary, wackalup one two three four five, Gawrum pawrum cockalorum, maid rise up and come alive!”

-The Rambling Rosehip Players, Martin the Warrior

[nicholaskole]

WAHEYY! I just wrapped up another delightful Twitch stream with some of you fine human beings- the result is that Ballaw De Quincewold- Head Hare of the Rambling Rosehip Players from Martin the Warrior is here to put on a show those rotten corsairs won’t forget in a hurry! I love Redwall and specifically Martin so much- it’s been a blast bringing some of my favorite childhood characters to life. They’ve been living in my head for decades ^_^  I’m really excited about how this came out- hope you enjoy it, and come tune in to future streams over at: http://www.twitch.tv/nicholaskole/ BLOOD ‘N VINEGAR! EULALIAAA! 

[incorrectredwallquotes]

Ballaw: Everything will be alright.

Felldoh: How can you say that?

Ballaw: Because sometimes when things get tough, denial is all we have.

[theredwallrecorder]

What is the alias Ballaw used when he advertised himself as a magic hare to Clogg and his crew?

a) Tibbar

b) Lunar Stellaris

c) Seer of Seasons

d) Lord Bodrig

[incorrectredwallquotes]

Clogg: I've been meaning to ask you something.

Ballaw: Go on.

Ballaw: Only if I concentrate very hard.

Clogg: Can you read my mi-

Clogg: What the fuck?

[incorrectredwallquotes]

Felldoh, sulking: I don’t like this group name, it's stupid.

Ballaw: But you gotta admit, it’s catchy

Felldoh: The bubonic plague was catchy, that doesn’t mean it was good!

[incorrectredwallquotes]

Ballaw: Not all of your life decisions have to be smart. Some can be purely for cinematic value.

[incorrectredwallquotes]

Clogg, upon learning how Ballaw did a magic trick: So you’re not magic?

Ballaw: Well, not really.

Clogg: You’re just a liar.