Sometime later, you are glumly being marched out of Redwall's massive main gate in the company of several brawny otters, all well armed with javelins and long cloth slings. Keeping you hemmed in but otherwise ignoring you as they chat to each other, they escort you far down the path.
"Right, mates," A hulking male with an eye-patch booms. "I think we've gone far enough with this one. Now listen up, rat. We're civil beasts at Redwall, so we'll give you food for three days, if you don't wolf it all down right away. After that, you can go where you like and do what you like, just not back to the Abbey. We're not about to give you a weapon, as you're as likely to attack us the moment we turn our backs as try to, say, go fishing with it." He unceremoniously thrusts a small pouch at you, and then turns to to his fellow riverdogs. "Come on, mates. Somebody pulled Balisses' head out of the drink earlier, and they want every able-bodied beast there when they go to loose 'im."
A younger otter shudders at the sibilant name, falling into line with his fellows. "That great ol' serpent? Hunh, I would've just tossed him back in the soup if I'd been the lucky one to find him." Talking among themselves of the massive, feared, blind adder, they jog back the way they had come, rounding a bend and starting the back down the long walk to Redwall.
You sigh despairingly, looking down the path in the other direction. While you knew that this was probably some kind of dream brought on by the accident, and you'd be around in no time in a hospital somewhere, it still seemed a cruel joke by Dame Fortune to land you in one of your favorite fantasy world as a universally disliked villain. By all appearances, the question now was; 'now what?'
Off to your right stretched the 'flat'lands, slowly rolling hills that stretched to the horizon in a sea of grass. You think you can make out a few short little points in the distance, possibly mountains, and another, bigger one back towards to the north. You seem to faintly recall something about a huge tribe of pygmy shrews living down that way, maybe they'd be more accepting than the Redwallers? You don't give yourself time to enjoy the irony in that thought as you sweep your gaze back to the left.
On the other hand, the left side of the path gives way to thick forest, and you can't see very deep into the brush; who knew what could be waiting in there? There certainty could be greater opportunities to find food, once your supplies run out.
And finally, there's the broad, dusty path that runs down for ages, until it's lost in the green of a copse growing on the 'flatlands' side of the road. Maybe you could head south, and then... Just see where it took you. You had already seen in person that death was a stranger in this world, so knew you didn't have to worry about much.
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