I apparently can’t even write a mole accent on my phone. It says no, every word is wrong. But are you sure we’re not tragically deprived of mole accents?
I have finally decided on the idea I’m going with! Not a mole, though it was close. A young mouse, instead. Though methinks he’ll have tried on a number of hats, growing up.
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
_________________________________________________________ Bancroft 'Banny' or 'Croft', son of Geoffrey _________________________________________________________ Three Seasons | ♂ | Mouse _________________________________________________________ Single | Communal Farmer
P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E
▼ C H A R A C T E R N O T E S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Note - Related Information ▼ P A R A P H E R N A L I A ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Scarlet Scarf - A scarlet red scarf that previously belonged to Bancroft's late father. ► Hatchet - A standard tool around the farm, Bancroft often keeps his hatchet holstered on the back of his belt. ► Knife - A curved, sickle-like utility blade used around the farm, short and more tool than a weapon, it rarely leaves his person. ► Quarter Staff - A simple hardwood staff, used more for walking and balancing than anything else. ▼ O T H E R ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Other - Description/Relevance -
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
An adventurous young mouse, Bancroft is on the cusp of adulthood. He spent the first season of his life living outside of the Abbey walls in a nearby farming community under the care of his father and mother. His father, a fieldmouse by the name of Geoffrey, oversaw the work of the family farm located to the East of Redwall Abbey. His farm fed not only their local community but also traded with Redwall Abbey for honey and Salamandastron in thanks for protection.
Unfortunately, this also led to Geoffrey's demise. Due to several consecutive ongoing battles with the toad tribes that lived along the western shores, Geoffrey and his farmhands were forced to change their delivery route to travel North through Mossflower Woods, instead of West past Redwall Abbey. While Mossflower Woods is generally peaceful, it is not without its own threats and its sprawling woodlands hold many vermin. It however was not vermin that led to Geoffrey's death but instead a dangerous adder that had travelled from the East and found Mossflower to be a flourishing hunting ground.
Salamandastron had dispatched a unit of hares to meet Geoffry, but the Long Patrol was too late to save Geoffrey and instead, an Officer returned only Geoffrey's tattered scarf to the homestead where Bancroft and his mother, Lonicera, were eagerly awaiting Geoffrey's return. Without Geoffrey or his farmhands and with Bancroft barely being a dibbun, Lonicera found the workload of the farm to be overwhelming and reached out to Redwall Abbey for help. The Abbey took Lonicera and Bancroft in, aiding in keeping the farm running and helping to raise and support Bancroft.
Growing up, Bancroft often heard tales of his father the hard worker and the protector of their community. Though his mother forbid Bancroft from ever wielding a weapon, Banny learned to handle the tools of his trade and assisted in repealing at least one vermin attack on the same farm. A regular at Redwall Abbey, Bancroft does what he can to assist the community when he makes a delivery.
D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E
A mouse of average height, with an athletic build from years of working around his family's farm. Due to this, Bancroft is a strong and hardy mouse, stronger than the average members of his species and an agile and capable climber. The young mouse is rarely seen without his father's crimson scarf wrapped around his neck and often a thick pair of belts holding both a loose-fitting pair of trousers at his waist along with his tools. His wrist and ankles are often kept wrapped for additional support and to avoid strain especially when helping with supply runs.
Coated in a tawny brown coat with a cream-coloured underbelly that starts from his chin, Bancroft appears to be in good health with a shiny coat aside from dust and straw that often clings to his fur. His ears are often perked above his head and are full and round with no notable knicks or damage. His eyes are full of life, often radiating mischievous energy when not peering at his surroundings with an overwhelming curiosity.
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
With Bancroft, I'm planning on telling a coming-of-age story. As the Sword of Martin the Warrior is taken from the Abbey, he'll see it as an opportunity to prove his maturity by helping retrieve it. While I'm not against Bancroft growing to be an Abbey Warrior, it's not the true goal of his character arc and instead, I want him to grow beyond the shadow of his father who has become almost a mythological figure in his life.
There definitely is a desire to introduce the adder who killed Geoffrey so Bancroft can seek revenge against the snake. Additionally a reintroduction to the Long Patrol officer who brought Geoffrey's scarf to the grieving family and of course a journey to Salamandastron.
I had forgotten how Moles talked in Redwall; you lot are fortunate I am not subjecting you all to that particular accent permanently :P
Burr aye!
Currently starting to put my sheet together, aiming to get the IC rolling this weekend since it'll be a weekend that my fiancé is working so I'll have more time.
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
_________________________________________________________ Given Middle Surname _________________________________________________________ Age | ♀/♂ | Species _________________________________________________________ Marital Status | Occupation
P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E
▼ P H Y S I C A L T R A I T S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Build - Descriptor ► Fur Colour - Colour ► Eye Colour - Colour ► Other - Scars, Tattoos, Piercings etc -
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
This is where you outline your vision for the character including any notable changes or differences from the regularly accepted canon. This should be a short summary that provides insight into where the character is in terms of their overall progress and development. You could also include any notable differences from the standard canon you've added to your character.
D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E
A full physical description to compliment your face claim and physical profile. In addition to physical attributes, this section can be used to flesh out personal mannerisms such as how the character carries themselves, do they talk with their hands or other such notable details. A sense of personal style can also be described here along with any other elaboration needed to complement the physical profile such as a description of tattoos, coloured hair etc.
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
Why do you want to play this character, what is the driving motivation behind both this desire and the character themselves. What do you hope to accomplish and where do you want the character's story/stories to go? For a driving character, there should be enough of an outline present to interest other players along with specifications towards how many players you're looking to involve or available roles. For supporting characters, this should indicate either a plot you've arranged to be part of or the type of plot you're looking to be involved in. Roaming characters have the privilege of doing either or simply stating a roadmap for the character to exemplify how you'd ideally like them to move between plots.
Lenny the Shrew Geoffrey Gnawstrum Bernard 'Bernie' Diggory Purth
Here's what I wrote up today. I feel rather certain it's whole and complete, but if anything else/any editing is requested I will certainly comply!
A Hedgehog, bulky for his species, gone soft around the edges from a life of wines and ales oversampled and overindulged. Do not mistake his softness for lack of strength nor his greying sheen for feebleness of mind (though, admittedly, a certain eccentricity does grip him); Ellis is every bit as able-bodied as the next beast. His age has slowed, but not stopped.
His role in the Abbey is that of the Cellarkeeper, formally, though in seasons past he has taken it upon himself the mantle of an Adventurer, Minstrel, Chef, Husband, and Parent. His experiences and adventures take the form of poem and song- many of the younger generations at the Abbey presuming that they are mere whimsy rather than recollections of truth.
He is gripped by a powerful and total sense of duty and obligation, the Abbey Charter as well as a personal sense of morality guiding him to do right by anybeast and everybeast whenever possible. He is slow to anger, quick of wit, and cool of judgement- but wanton destruction, waste, and insolence are things that others ought to be educated on! He is motivated heavily by this sense of duty; he will certainly take it upon his shoulders to accomplish a task should the need arise, and often others must see to it that he rest or stop as, despite his vigor, he is truly not as young as he once was.
He is also exceptionally motivated by a desire to teach and guide those younger than he in the ways of the world and of the self. There are many lessons of life to be gained from the profession of Cellarkeeper and from the life of one such as he, and he is keen on sharing them! Father as he is to his one son, he is also often seen in the presence of the dibbuns telling them a story or playing out a song on his hogtwanger for their benefit.
Despite the betrayals and conniving behaviors he has met in the past, he is quick to trust and holds the Abbey Charter to heart; stay your paw, extend compassion, and be a brother to all. It is a great strength, but also a great weakness.
As for possessions? Brother Ellis is someone who owns a great many things; a sturdy saucepan of many seasons age he cherishes, a hogtwanger maintained with love, the knowledge and tools of The Craft (as he refers to the brewery trade), as well as many other odds and ends he'd collected in his travels and seasons at the Abbey. He prays he never has need of the dusty spear he keeps concealed in the cellars, hidden away from prying dibbun hands!
Hark, listener, to these words! They carry within them a warning of old A warning, dear listener, of a dibbun so bold! This youth, this youth, oh this blessed youth! Nary a thought nor caution was felt Nary a grown'un nor mother was behel't
This little one was reckless, tis true! This little one was a fool, too! He feared not a bruise nor scratch- But the rumble of the stomach was too much for the lad! If ye learn anythin' from this tune, let it be 'do not be bad!'
For this little one, a proper rascal indeed A dibbun of mischief and merriment and greed Once, dear listener, if the story can be told Ran into mossflower wood through a gap in the gate The East Gate!- Lest my memory grow old Out the East Gate did this dibbun meet Fate.
Fate, oh Fate!, is an old, old, friend. Fate will take you by the hand Fate will guide you! Fate will e'er stay true! Fate will blind you! Fate bears no stew!
Nay, that lad, hungry as 'e was Found not a meal hiding in the wood Instead, dear listener, he found a chance to do good. He came across a maiden so fair! So fair, indeed, that this dibbun understood That some things, dear listener, are more important than food.
Danger was afoot in that stretch of wood a Rat was hunting that maiden so fair The dibbun, bold as the sun Took 'er hand in his and set out at a run! Redwall, he cried, will keep you safe! Redwall! Redwall! Oh, blessed fate!
They ran, they swam, they bounded, they leapt The great Rat's nose sniffing as they went! Soon the great Abbey walls rose in their eyes- But the vile rat soon would have them as his prize If not for the walls! Oh Redwall, Oh Redwall! The Walls of Redwall and its great tower Bell!
The Rat leapt from hiding, scooped them young'uns up! But right as he did, the bell was struck! The spirit of Martin rushed to their aid! The Warrior of Redwall always saves the day! While battle was set, the Dibbuns made their haste! For within the walls of Redwall, there was dinner to taste!
But alas, dear listener, that dibbun so bold Had failed his mother, and the father abbot, so cold. For he had worried them! He was bound to be scolded! As for the maiden? What more is to be said? In Redwall she found a home, a hearth, a bed. In Redwall she found family, warmth, and bread.
"Ollie Elly, wontcha sing us annutha singy-songy? Tis gon' be rainywet soon-nuff and marm won' let us playwise." One Dibbun crowed, the young squirrel positively clambering in his seat with uncontained energy. Another seconded his call, and a third followed suit- and soon Ellis found himself barraged by the wanting cries of the children as he idly strummed upon his hogtwanger with the mirthful movements of his head.
"That depen's little 'un." The Hedgehog grumbled in his deep and soft tones. "If the rain is coming, doesn't that mean you lot have some cleanin' to do?" His words birthed a chorus of protesting groans, which warranted a gentle gesture of shushing from his outstretched paw.
"I will take that as a yes!" He laughed as he assuaged their resistances. "But tarry not, fair dibbuns, for my stories are old and remember'd well enough. I'll not forget the next song before dinner tonight. Tis a promise and a deal; keep things tidylike, and Ellis will sing you another for true."
"The Bold!" The squirrel cried. "Singysongy about thassa boldlike hodgypodge!"
"The bold?" Ellis queried, mirth in his eye as he feigned a thoughtful ignorance. "I do believe you mean 'The Old', eh?"
"Nay!" A young gel- a mousegirl- cried. "The Bold! Issa tale about Martin, memorywise!" "Aye! Ollie Elly hassa remember it!" "The Hodgypodge and the maid, wissa vole and shrew an-"
"Ah!" He interrupted them, laughter rising from deep within. "The tale of Sille The Bold and the Fox!" The Hedgehog rose, lowering his spikes and relaxing the instrument in his arms, as he ushered the dibbuns to their tasks. His bulk shook in the vestiges of laughter as the children bumbled off, but his eyes were gazing to some far-off place. Some place far back in the reaches of time, and far off across the wood of Mossflower.
He was older now- had gone by many names over the Seasons- but right now he was thinking of a time that felt a lifetime ago.
A time when he was known as Ellis The Bold.
"Father Abbot- She's alive. Of this I am sure, I feel it in my bones."
"There's no certainty of anything, Ellis, and take to heart the words of this abbey-"
"I know the words. I know. Offer Shelter. Help and Comfort. Be brothers to all. Forsake the violence. Do not preach it to me thus, Abbot, please. I know this to be true. Hear my words, search my eyes, see for yourself; I do this not out of anger but out of love."
Silence weighed over the group for some time. Finally, the abbot spoke;
"Very well then. Go, Ellis. Who all will go with you?"
"Tybalt and Juniper, sir, begging they can be spared. They likewise felt the spirit thus." Ellis intoned quietly. "They were also there with me when we came first upon the Fox."
"The Fox! The Fox!" The Abbot remarked. "Such a conniving thing- such a convincing thing, too! She played us all the fool, eh? Well mark this, Ellis, I do not hold us as fools for outstretching the paw of peace and compassion. If truly the spirit spake in this way and guides you thus, then go with my blessing and be well and hearty. Adelaide is waiting for you..."
And so it was, many seasons ago, that Ellis set off on a journey. Accompanied by Tybalt, a Vole who was as quiet as the wind at night when he felt the need, and Juniper, a Squirrel whose prowess with the saucepan was rivalled only by her tenacity in using it beyond the purposes of mere cutlery, Ellis tasked himself with tracking down a wily creature indeed; Karmelita.
Karmelita had tricked her way into the abbey, begging sanctuary and claiming to be fleeing from a band of vermin most foul. Ellis permitted her entry into the Abbey, wary but keeping the Charter in his heart; compassion, above all else, guiding his recommendation to grant her entry. For a time, Karmelita resided in the infirmary where her wounds were tended. During her stay, small treasures and relics of the Abbey's history were disappearing- tensions were building between the abbeydwellers and the fox.
It was Adelaide who discovered the deception firsthand; Ellis' wife and beloved. Awaking one night, she discerned the Vixen's figure, framed in the full moon, atop the wall by the North Gate discarding a chalice into the paws of a band of vermin down below. When confronted- for Adelaide was a hot-headed woman, for a Hedgehog- Karmelita attacked her. Fearing the stories of Redwall's heroic history, she kidnapped Adelaide to ward off pursuit. Such as the case for many small omens, this rendered itself self-fulfilling; this very act lead to Ellis' adventure from the Abbey.
The trio's journey was long and dangerous. Karmelita and her band had fled far to the North. Along the way they encountered many a friendbeast and foe alike, and Ellis found himself a fledgling warrior too; the spear came naturally to his hands. Three set off, and during the journey their number swelled to nearly a dozen, but the return to the Abbey was made by four.
Ellis, Tybalt, Adelaide, and an infant Hedgehog named Grant. Juniper had not survived the 'venture. Adelaide had given birth while held captive by the Vermin. Joy and Sorrow intertwined, and the Abbey welcomed their Heroes home.
What was in truth so long ago felt like a dream that was yet to pass. Ellis the Bold was a young thing, whose fur and spikes held their color strong; Ellis the Old, as the Dibbuns called him these days, was beginning to show grey and had maintained his bulk less with muscle and more with wine. His far off eyes returned to the here and the now, and he shook himself of this reverie with a sad smile.
So many lost friends, so many stories gained. And Grant. There was always Grant.
"'e has certainly taken to The Craft well." Ellis mused to himself. "Though he does think that ev'ry pretty gel has eyes for him..."
Ellis The Bold, upon returning home to Redwall so long ago, had taken up formal occupation as the Cellarkeeper and Brewer of the Abbey (Thus earning him the title 'Ellis of the Tap'). A job that was now being trained and passed to his son, Grant. A heaviness set itself upon his wearied shoulders. He lifted his head, took up his hogtwanger, and headed out into the air of the front lawn. He sniffed; indeed, a rain was to come presently. A melancholy had gripped the aged Hedgehog, however, and he was not to be deterred.
He walked himself to the North Gate. It had been Adelaide's favorite place to stand, gazing out from the high walls here. When he was here, he felt close to her spirit. He stood there in solitude atop the wall. Thoughts of love and life, sorrow and solace, filled him; thoughts of the future, of love still, and of prosperity consoled him. He could still see Adelaide alive in the face of Grant, in the way he laughed, in the way he handled the casks and barrels and sampled the ales- His boy was a man grown now, but a father never stops seeing his child beneath the Seasons.
Ellis turned when the rain broke and began to fall, enjoying the beginnings of the downpour on his spikes as he traversed a world of memory. Life was good, and his was full; it was now his duty to see to it that those experiences survived and guided those who would come after.
Sir, this was simply amazing. I almost felt like I was reading Jacques himself.
Looking forward to seeing it! Not got a firm character in mind just yet, kind of wanting to pick something to round out the cast without taking away from you guys so I might go mouse, mole, shrew or squirrel. Something smaller anyways.
I’ll stick to my thoughts of the Hedgehog Cellarkeeper. Someone has to keep their nose in the ale! So far have a few ideas stirring, probably gonna blend them into a bit of an elder character.
Reluctantly retired roleplayer.
Except when I'm not.
Why are you here when you should be writing posts?
You can edit a bad draft, but you cannot edit a blank page.
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">Reluctantly retired roleplayer. <br><br>Except when I'm not.<br><br>Why are you here when you should be writing posts?<br><br>You can edit a bad draft, but you cannot edit a blank page.</div>