The winter wind blew harshly at Redwall Abbey that night. A fox hurried across the foregrounds on his way to the Gatehouse. When he got there he bustled inside and slammed the door behind him. Inside were a few assorted beasts ranging from Dibbun squirrels to elderly hares. The fox threw off his large, dark blue cloak and made his way to a small in the corner of the Gatehouse. His fur was jet black and he had mysterious icy blue eyes. “Are you gonna tell us the story now, Mister Brightblade?” a small mouse asked. “Yes Rey,” the fox replied, “the story will be told soon enough, just wait a few moments for the others.” The fox waited about five minutes, and during that time three more fortbeasts entered the Gatehouse. After that, the fox addressed the fortbeasts. “Alright, I guess I owe you guys a story now,” the fox said somewhat cheerfully, “so now I will tell you one,” he paused for a moment, and then started again. “This story is true, and I’m sure you elders have heard bits and pieces of it before, but you’ve never really heard the story. Now I know that everyone talks about good things that go bad, but this story is about bad things that go good…”