Mission:
Sitting in the taverns is always a wonderful inspiration for me. This is what it was tonight. The Snaggled Claw was me favorite tavern, nice folks there.

'Heh' I thought to myself 'Camp Willow has big talkers. Tundra the otter, Marigold that hare- heh, I bet it's a load of tosh.'

I promised meself I'd get over there and prove those big-mouths stupid and wrong! Stupid nasty otter-types!

My ship Bloodkeel took a swerve into Mossflower to replenish stocks, so I got me chance. My capn's pretty lenient and could count on where t'find me, so I was let go. Heh! I couldn't wait. I took a few leutenients with me, Scarface the weasel and Mangra, a northern fox. Keeping to the path, we went our way from the ford at the River Moss, right past Redwall, which is always hair-raising; otters willing to kick you off the path if they see you. Not very good types, them. Heh! Won't tolerate any o' the boyoes, not even respectable vermin who wash! Nah, y'don't want to make those fellers mad! Cutting off into the woods, we stayed at a taven caled The Brown Leaf Inn for the night. It was one of those shifty neutral dens, the kind I like. Making a few inquiries to drunken woodlanders set me up for an appointment to talk to camp willow's leader. I liked knowing the right people. Not that I was 'igh and mighty or nuthin, I just knew the right ones. No otters though, they're too noble fer vermin. Hedgehogs, voles, and shrews, there okay, but ones own kind is best ter stick to always!

I slumped at the bar in the main hall. Me two fellows had retired early in case of any trouble in the morning, but I couldn't sleep. I called for another flagon to drown me spirits. A shifty-looking vixen with one eye brought me a large tankard. Sipping tiredly, I listened to the conversations of the other beasts in the tavern.

"...Aye, he's the one, there, in the blue tunic. The best slinger this side o' Moss."

"It's nice and shiny, but not worth a brass ring. No deal!"

"I told yer, five bags, not two! Yer a lyin' cheat, and I thought yer were me matey!"

"Garr, this liddle lot's worth yer weight in gold. Looky-here!"

"So, I was goin' an' tellin' the vermin about it here, I made the little fellow sound like a thousand armed troops! Haahaahaa!"

That barking otter laughter made my ears rise for a minute. I listened to the two of them for a few minutes more.

"Heh, he's only me little nephew, Taddlepaw. Cute little feller. But boy, he can talk the tail offen ye! I told skipper we better send him off to fight that tough Sampetra crowd that likes to hang around the woods sometimes. Hope they heard it though, that should take em offen our backs while we rebuild the holt's walls! Y'know how everybody has t'sleep outside? I tell ye Tomcod, 'tis a fine joke! Haahaahaa!"

I banged me fist down on the counter. Problem solved! Our 'secret weapon' was a talkitive little otter brat! Hang it all, there ain't nothin' scary about that! Hah! Big talkin' like the camp willow types does gets yer nowheres! I drained me flagon and went to bed, dreaming of me bunk on the Bloodkeel.