RW Abbey: Great Hall
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The Great Hall of Redwall Abbey. Countless paw falls have echoed from these stones, and untold numbers of feasts and merry gatherings have been held here. A table, not nearly so grand or large as its predecessors, but quite functional for mealtimes, rests near the center of the hall. Chairs exist here aplenty, though most of them are obviously not from the same set. Many of the stained glass windows are broken, and have been patched with canvas and boards to fend against the elements. The floor is clean and swept. A fire is kept burning in the fireplace at almost all times of the day and night, and there are several more comfortable chairs and cushions set up here, of varying sizes. One looks large enough to easily accommodate a badger.

The Tapestry hangs proud and tall, and while the rest of Redwall may still bear the scars of natural disaster, this most famous of Redwall's relics remains unharmed by beast, time, or the elements. The figure of Martin the Warrior seems to be watching over his own with an unchanging, kindly gaze.

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Exits: Abbey's [Li]brary, [K]itchen, [C]avern [H]ole, [B]reezeway, [En]try, [Stairs]
With:
[IC] Trubby
[IC] Bitter and annoyed. (Cassite)
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Posco pokes his head round the Great Hall door, making quite sure there was no beast dwelling that would not like to be disturbed. Seeing none, the mole scuttles in, a large sack thrown over is shoulder. Coming up to a lone chair in the corner, Posco swings it down and on the ground. The mole bends over and noses into the sack, fishing around in it.

Trubby is just waking up and crawling around the bend in the stairs down into the Great Hall. As he reaches the foot of the stairs, the young mole pauses to rub at his eyes. It's still a little bit early for him. He looks up afterwards and, a little belatedly, spots Posco and calls a cheerful greeting. "Hullo, zurr!"

Posco pulls himself out of the sack, turning to see a little mole dibbun. A smile creases on his face, and Posco returns the save. "Hurlo tah you'm, too likkle zurr!" He says with a deep chuckle.

Trubby blinks owlishly for a minute, still waking up. "Burr, pluzzent day," the albino mole comments, looking curiously towards the sack Posco brought in with him. "Zurr, wot be that?"

Posco wiggles his snout, pushing the sack over to the mole with a foot. The older mole smiles pleasently, motioning a paw to the open sack. "Hurr, boi gurden zupplois." He says nodding. Posco reaches down and pulls a smal burlap pouch from the sack. "Zoi thus? 'Tis zeeds. Thurr'll boi ah day o' gurdenin' in 'ee orchurds tummorow."

Trubby wrinkles his nose, nodding as Posco explains. He pauses for a moment to scratch at his head, then, grinning, inquires "Zurr, can oi 'elp 'ee wif tha gurdenin' tumorrer?"

Posco reaches over and lays a gentle paw on the dibbuns head. "Hurr! 'Course you'm can, zurr." He says nodding. "'Tis fur all Redwullurz tah help. But oi soi... caun't 'membur soin' yeh 'round 'ee h'abbey. Whut boi yurr name an' whured yeh cume from?"

Trubby grins even wider, if that's possible. It looks like if he smiled any more his face would split in two. "Zurr, oi be Trubby, thutt oi am," he replies with a tone of importance. He seems a little confused at the second question though, wrinkling his nose.

Posco kneels down, getting eye level with the litle mole. "Trubby? Thut boi ah foine mole name, zurr!" He says sagely, and nods. "But h'arr you'm hurr wid yurr familuy?" He asks, altering his question from before.

Trubby scratches at his nose a little before replying, his grin fading slightly. "Burr, oi no got'm a familuy yurr."

Posco chews his bottom lip, a bit sorry he brought the subject up. He wiggles his snout and sits on the ground, motioning for Trubby to sit too. Posco reaches into his work belt and plucks a pouch of all sorts of candied nut from it. These were useful with so many dibbuns aroudn the Abbey! "Wull, whured you'd come from?" He questions, hoping now the dibbun would understand. "Whurr wurr you'm born?"

Trubby sits down, furrowing his brow a little. It seems to require a little thought to recall. "Burr, oi stayed with moi auntie 'til she wented to sleep," he replies. After a short moment he adds, "Oi wuzz stayin' down tha rudd apiece."

Posco scratches his nose. "Roight roight. Wull, oi'm zure yurr auntoie boi 'aving ah gudd zleep." He says and pauses for a second. "Oi knuw! Upi'm cin boi part o' moi h'abbey mole crew. Oi'll take care o' yeh. Wud'you'm soi 'bout thut?"

Trubby scratches his nose as well, considering for a moment. But only for a moment. "Burr, oi'd loike that gurrtly, that oi wudd!"

Posco chuckles and nods, turning to pul out a long rolled up peice of paper and lays it on the ground, unrolling it so it lays flat. "Now thun. Now thut yurr en 'ee Mole crew... you'm cin help oi. Soi thus? 'Tis layout o' 'ee h'abbey orchards. We'm gut tah deciode whurr tah put whut plants." He says, takes a few different colored sticks of chalk from his belt.

Trubby leans over the chart with an expression of deep concentration, nodding as Posco explains.

Posco points at variouis places in the map. "Hurr... we'm noid ah place furr carruts... potatoez, beetz, an' uther vugetubles." He says, and then picks out an orange chalk. "Hurr... whurr shuld 'ee curruts go?"

Trubby continues with the pretense of intense concentration, sticking his tongue out sideways. After a moment the Dibbun points to a random place on the map. "Hurr, be thut a gudd place furr 'ee curruts?"

Posco stifles laughter as the place he points is smack on the pond. The mole nods and says. "Oh, thut boi ah wunnerful place. But since et boi so wunnerful, all 'ee burds wull want tah eat 'um. Burr! Such ah same, thut's ah wunnderful place..." He says sadly and moves the chalk a few inches over to another spot. "Hurr, oi'd bust put et hurr." He says and makes a few short orange marks.

Trubby doesn't seem to notice his mistake, and seems to agree with Posco wholeheartedly. "Burr, 'ee be right. Oi cudden soi it bettur moiself."

Posco chuckles and continues making marks. He places the potatoes far from the apple trees, whose rotts would destroy the plant, he places corn near the carrots, so both would be bigger. Looking up, he winks at
Trubby. "Now thun, whurr shuld 'ee beetz go, Trubb?"

Trubby nods and mutters as Posco places the other vegetables as if he had made the choice himself. "Burr, gudd choice iffen oi do say so moiself..." As he is addressed, he straightens a little, tilting his head to look at the map from a different angle, then points at a place more or less halfway between the carrots and the potatoes. "'Ow abutt thurr?"

Posco opens his eyes wide, looking around and nodding. This actually was a good place for them. "Hurr, whut ah gudd moler you'm h'arr! Thut boi just 'ee place!

Trubby grins and sits back a little, nodding several times. "Zee, oi make a gudd moler fer tha h'abbey Molecrew, thut oi do!"

Posco bobs his head, agreeing with the little guy. "'Course, Trubb! You'm boi ah gurt moler!" He exclaims, nodding happily. Posco makes a few marks, indicating the proper location of the beets and rolls the paper back up, stuffing it in the sack behind him. "Wull, thut shuld do et. Thankee furr hulpin' zurr!" He stands and shoulders the pack. "Oi'm gunna go mark these outsoide. Iffen you'm noid h'anythung, just ask furr 'ee Foremole, an' oi'll come runnin', likkle mate."

Trubby nods at Posco, also standing up. "Burr, thankee zurr! Oi'll ask fer 'ee iffen oi need 'ee."

Posco pats the little dibbun on the head and turns, trudging out into the kitchen.