As I have finished my first fanfic, I feel that it is time to continue the story with the sequel that I hinted (well, bashed you over the head with) at, A New World being the chosen title.  It takes place at about the time of Fable II, but as the game isn't out yet, sticking to the plot is unlikely.  I will draw on what I can, however.  All that remains is for me to actually start the story. . .which I will start as soon as I finish the introduction.  I plan to return to my Friday/Saturday weekly format, and hope to see your comments again, they really helped me to drive onward and gave me ideas when things got foggy.  If I ever start to sound pompous, find Proffyaffel and borrow his noob stick to bash me over the head with.  Or just use your own, he doesn't play nicely with others. 

---

Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

Looking forward to it.

I'll have to read the end of your other one before reading this one though. A simple enjoyable task.

luck with your next fiction.

Hermit

---

~~~~Thanks Hermit.  Here goes....~~~~

  A strangely familiar female voice spoke out of the darkness: "The world as you know it is gone, time has moved on, and Albion has with it.  Not all has gone well, however. Albion has need of a hero again.  Albion has need of you, Maze.  But an old wizard cannot hope to understand this world, let alone heal it.  I must bring you back from the Void you are trapped in, but you will find yourself changed when I do.  Do not worry, I will not kill you . . . quite the opposite, in fact,"  He could not place the voice, but he knew that he had heard it before.  He had no time to ponder it's meaning, for a great energy suddenly gripped him, and pulled him out of the Cullis Gate void in which he had been trapped for what seemed to have been an eternity.

   Maze found himself lying atop a pile of crumbling stone covered in lichen and mold.  The swampy air around him carried the stench of ancient death, and the only sounds were the wind in the dead trees and the splash of unknown things in the stagnant pools of fetid water.  He was in a graveyard.  It was Lychfield Graveyard , but not as he had left it.  The graves around him were ancient, the writing on the gravestones worn away with time.  Through the mist, he could see hundreds more stretching out into the darkness like infinate teeth rising from the earth.  He stood to brush himself off, but something was very wrong with his hands.  They were too small, too smooth to be his.  As he went over to one still puddle, his strides were much too short.  Gazing at his reflection, he saw a face that was not his.  It was the face of a child.

---

Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

Maze again?

Interesting, no really it is. When I seen the name Maze I got a little dissapointed, but! You recovered using his soul in a new body. Now I'm very interested and looking forward to a explanation, which will be very exciting and a original idea.....hopefully.

Hermit

---

ooh, sounds very interesting I can't wait for your next  chapter!,

---

Gradius:: If I could get our lead designer in here to quell this once and for all about why we do it and why it's    then I would...and he is a 6 foot 6 American who eats small children for breakfast, and picks his teeth with er...flaming axes

It's not a new body, just a newer one... I plan to warp Fable 2 before it even comes out, how is that for an explanation?

---

Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

I get it. I like it.

---

Everybody get drunk.

   It was preposterous. It was impossible. It was true... he was a child again.  As much as he hated to admit it, he could see it reflected plainly out of the still pool.  His hair was scruffy and shoulder length, a light brown in color.  His eyes were still the sapphire blue they always were, but his face and body no longer bore the glowing lines and runes that Will mastery had left on his body, nor the stubble or wrinkles that had come with time.  He was as small and helpless as the lad from Oakvale, so many years ago. How many years, now he wondered.  A distant moan disturbed his thought.  Years or no years, this was still Lychfield Graveyard, and no place for a child.  Nearby, the earth trembled and a rotting hand broke the surface.  Other patches of dirt soon began to stir.  Maze ran.  He ran as fast as his body could take him, past endless graves, over crumbling walls, past rusting fences and into the woods that lay beyond them.  From the forest's edge he saw green eyes recede into the mist, retreating to their graves after the prey had left their resting place.  Relieved but tired, Maze clambered up a tree (much easier for a child than for an old man) to sleep, safe from the creatures of the forest floor.

   The bright sunlight the next morning woke him up.   Rubbing his eyes and stretching, Maze could now see a path leading through the woods, probably to the nearest town.  Sliding down the tree, he began his journey.  His clothes were ragged and dirty, ill-fitting as well, but he had tightened his belt and left his heavy overcoat and chainmail, leaving him an akward-looking youth in baggy pants, an oversized shirt, and boots that nearly reached his knees.  Nevertheless, he was confident that he could get to the nearest town and aquaint himself with this new Albion... and purchase some more fitting gear.  He had a small purse of gold on him, but it seemed enough to get by on.  about half an hour after starting, Maze encountered a small camp beside a covered wagon.  It turned out that the occupents were traders, and that they had stoped for a meal on the way to Bowerstone after gathering fruits, herbs, and the occasional odd trinket or treasure in the wood.  They offered to take him along, "The woods are no place for a young lad alone!", and he gladly accepted.

   Half a day later they arrived at the gates to Bowerstone.  In the afternoon sun, Maze could see hundreds of roofs projecting over the walls,and a long line of merchants and farmers was streaming in and out constantly.  The city was larger than anything he had ever seen.  Thanking the traders, he dismounted the wagon and headed for the nearest shop.  The merchant grumbled a bit about "strange coins, probably from some cursed ruins" but accepted them nonetheless.  In new clothes that were cleaner and fit him, Maze was glad to look around town.  He even managed to make some extra coin by selling his old clothes to the merchant.  He next went in search of a weapons shop, but the blacksmith he found refused to give a sword to a "little kid", and wouldn't even sell him a dagger.  Going into an ally, Maze experimentally tried to cast lightning, but all he managed was a few blue sparks.  Somewhat distraught, he turned around to find a shop that sold food and supplies, but found himself blocked bu an older boy.  He appeared to be about twelve, but it was already obvious that he was a nasty piece of work.  He wore a dark top hat, a slate grey coat that reached to the ground, and his face was dirty and scarred.  "Looks like you have a bit of money on you,  kid.  You must be new here.  Let me introduce you.  I'm Arfur... Welcome to Bowerstone!"  Maze awoke several hours later, bruised, blleding, and without a single gold coin.  Picking himself up, he spat blood onto the filthy stone road.  Arfur must have hit him, but he couldn't remember any details of what had happened.  Arfur would have to be taught a lesson, but Maze had nothing left- no weapons, no spells, no money, and no friends or allies to help him.  It would be a long road to regain what he had lost.

---

Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

intresting, I still like it.

---

Everybody get drunk.

   The dawn of another day shone over the ragged boy sleeping in the alley.  With a groan, Maze rolled over and got up.  Another day of searching for information and necessities.  Today, he started out searching the docks for discarded items.  Normally he first visited the market stalls looking for anything useful that had been dumped as trash nearby.  It was not glamorous, but the discarded tidbits kept him fed-barely.  The docks appeared more promising.  None of the boys from the alley went to the docks, as none of them could swim and there were stories of bodies washing up down the river.  The boys attributed this to drowning, but Maze found it more likely that bodies were just dumped into the river to delay their discovery.  So far, it appeared that the docks were a far better scavenging ground than the stalls and alleys.  Maze had found a slightly rusty dagger on a crate, apparently forgotten by some sailor.  Scraping the rust off the blade with a loose stone from the road, he stuck it in a sash that he had fashioned from cast away cloth.  His fortunes continued to look up as he found a discarded fishing rod.  It lacked a line and a hook, but these were scttered all over the docks.  Fresh food would no longer be a distant memory.     

   Under a bridge, Maze set up a new camp where he would be away from the other scavengers.  Concentrating on his Will, he could still only muster a few sparks, and one dagger was not much use when five or six boys attacked with clubs.  He had seen it happen, and did not look forward to it being done to him.  Some scraps of a broken crate lay nearby.  A few sparks might actually be useful he thought.  Minutes later, he had a small fire going.  It was quickly turning to dusk, and the fire kept him warm as he fished, cut his catch with the dagger, and finally enjoyed a hot meal.  Testing his Will again, he could still only produce sparks, but they appeared to be a bit more powerful than before.  As he went to sleep, Maze planned the next day.  after a morning meal, he would try to get some news from the townspeople.  He had heard of a rich lord, Lucien, but there were many rumors about him from the boys in the slums.  One of these said that he had thrown a little boy out a window, then had the body disposed of.  another said that he had murdered a little girl.  Maze was not sure whether to believe any of this.  The boys had a warped sense of reality.  A week ago, he had found them around the body of a puppy, brutally beaten to death.  He arrived too late to do anything, and had slunk back into the shadows before they saw him.  Lucien may be a dangerous man, but the slums are dangerous for certain he decided.  He would seek out more information tomorrow.

---

Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

Leaving me speechless as always doc. Very interesting, feeding the addiction of fiction with control eh.

Loving it so far, very interested to see what happens.

Hermit

---

Really like how you are describing the slums. Keep it coming.

---

It is better to be silent and be thought a fool, instead of opening your mouth and proving it.

"Lord Lucien? You want to see lord Lucien? Ha!" scoffed the gate guard at the towering castle.  Maze had to admit that in his current state, the request seemed ridiculous.  he was a dirty, ragged street boy asking for a private audience with the lord of Bowerstone.  "You might as well try to meet with Terentius Rose in his private gardens at the Grey Manor!"  Maze tried a different approach.  "I'm looking for a job working for Lucien, do you know anything that I could do?"  The guard remained incredulous. "A filthy street rat like you? You likely hang around with the lowest-- wait, I do have something for you. Do it right, and I'll see if I can arrange a meeting with someone in the castle."  Maze took the oppportunity without hesitation.  "I'll do it. What do you need?"    "There are several criminals hiding around Bowerstone" he replied.  "They always manage to avoid us guards and have given us the slip every time we look for them.  You would'nt attract their attention, though, so you can scout them out without triggering the alarm.  Bring the information of their whereabouts and hiding places to us, and we'll be able to flush them out and capture them the next time they try to evade us."  Pulling out a scrolled up paper, he handed it to Maze.  "This tells you who to look for, why they're wanted, and how to deal with them if they spot you.  You've got your job, now get to it!" Maze had gotten his first quest in this new world.  The Guild Code would be his guide.  Do the job right, get paid in full, and move on to the next objective.

   Leaving the castle entrance, Maze looked at the first name on the scroll.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cutpurse Garett Song.  Wanted for the theft of coinpurses belonging to wealthy individuals, traders, and the Sheriff of Bowerstone.  Knnown to flee when seen, does not pose a threat to civilians, but is extremely slippery.  To be punished by lengthly inprisonment and community service.  Attack only if necessary.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

---

Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

I enjoy and appreciate how you see Maze as honourable to the guilds code, many see him just as the traitor. He had his reasons, and was probably the best in the guild.

I'm loving each part, keep em coming.

Hermit

---

   The Drunken Hobbe pub in the poor district was dark, crowded, and smelled of smoke.  In one corner, a group of men huddled around a small table cards in hand.  A woman of questionable integrity offered her services to passing patrons, leaving with a burly male to a back room after gold was offered and accepted.  It was not a place for a little boy, but neither was it a place where one would be noticed.  Maze had been lingering against a wall near the entrance, and had seen enough to know that if a local cutpurse had gold, this is where it would be spent.  He didn't have much longer to wait, as a weedy fellow with beady eyes walked in.  He seemed rather mouselike to Maze, constantly figiting and looking around, his rather large ears listening intently  for trouble, and his dark, beady eyes constantly darting around, scanning for any sign of danger.  Apparently deciding that the coast was clear, he wentt up to the barman and mumbled an order.  "Always the same, eh Garett?  Scurry over at ten every night and order a watered down beer, you do.  Never do anything adventurous.  I'm surprised that you have the nerve to pick pockets.  Ah, well.  Just go to your corner and I'll have the drink sent over."  With a nervous "thanks, Eugene...you don't need to mention my job around here, y'know...", he seated himself at a small table opposite the door. 

   He certainly didn't seem to be much of a threat, Maze thought, but capturing him would not be an easy job for the Town Guard.  If they attempted to capture him here, he would simply disappear into the crowd, escape, and never be seen in the bar again.  Maze needed to find another point of ambush to give the guards, so he decided to follow the elusive Mr. Song home.  Around midnight Garett left the bar through a back door and Maze followed at a distance after going around the front.  Garett went through several alleyways, littered with trash and makeshift homes of discarded beams and torn cloth.  Eventually he made his way to one of these and went inside.  Maze heard a grating sound, and when he came closer to investigate, Garett Song was nowhere to be found.  The onlycontents of the shack were some candle stubs, bits of junk, and a few dirty old blankets.  When he walked over one of these, the ground under it did not feel like dirt or cobblestone.  Shoving aside the ragged blanket, he found that it was metal.  A sewer cover.  Maze couldn't follow Garett down without being discovered, but he now knew the criminal's escape trick, why the guards never found his home, and how he always seemed to disappear when pursued.  He knew how the guards could catch him.  All Maze had to do was tell the guard at the mansion, and he would be one step closer to meeting Lucien.

---

Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

keep it up twelthdoctor, you've got me hooked!

---

...

You've done a job, keep it up.

---

[ img]http://www.evcitadel.com/community/gallery/1304_13_08_09_3_12_53.png[/img]

hey great story its my fave 1 keep going

---

Being nice is strange, I can see a lot up here on morale highground

~~~~ I appreciate the feedback.  Hey Valku, I personally thought "I hate maze" was funny, but you edited it.  Feel free to say anything you want guys and ladies, as long as it's somewhat on topic and doesn't offend grandparents (if you are one, consider the feelings of your grandparents).~~~~

   Another day, another mission.  After another breakfast of fish, Maze stuck his small dagger in his belt, pulled his shirt out to cover it, and set out on his second reconaissance mission.  His next mark was not a thief, but a murderer.  His instructions said that Lars Skutt was wanted dead or alive, but the fact that he was no more than nine years of age stopped Maze from considering attacking the 43 year old killer.  It was a job for a Town Guard, or perhaps a mercenary.  Maze started his search at the Drunken Hobbe, but found the place considerably less busy after the guards had stormed the area during the ambush of Garett Song.  He had fled to his sewer hideout as expected, and was met by several waiting guards as he descended the ladder to escape.  Maze earned a bit of pocket money for that, and planned on purchasing some camping gear to make his life on the docks easier.  He was still a bit short, however, and needed to fulfill another contract to make up the difference.  The guard at Lucien's castle had assured him that he would try to arrange a meeting after Maze fufilled all five of his contracts.

   It was with this in mind that Maze left the tavern to look elsewhere for Skutt.  As he headed for a nearby alley, however, he sensed the presence of someone behind him.  "I know what you're up to, swine.  You're the Town Guard's little spy, ain't ya?  Probably going to look for me.  Well here I am, but you aren't going to tell anyone.  I'm lucky that no one will look for you.  Not that I really care either way."  Lars Skutt was a large man with a scarred face and a shaven head.  His neglect of personal hygeine had left him with yellow, misshapen teeth, stubble of a beard, and the reek of cheap alcahol mixed with urine.  He grabbed Maze by the collar and brought him to face level.  "You aren't worth a bullet, Ill just kill you the old fashioned way."  Before Skutt could raise his other rather large fist, Maze grabbed his dagger and stuck it into the man's torso.  "Eh, what's that you think you're--"  Impatient with the lack of effect and desperate, Maze summoned what little Will energy he could muster and drove it through the dagger into  Lars' body.  Although he still couldn't propel more than sparks into the air, he was able to conduct enough energy to shock his opponent.  Maze fell to the gound as Lars released his grip.  Maze got up, but Skutt did not.  His heart had stopped from the sudden burst of electricity.  Maze felt drained, but he was alive.  About to leave, he saw the butt of a small firearm, a pistol, in his fallen opponent's belt.  A little extra protection never hurt...

---

Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

    Maze kept the pistol hidden when he informed the guard of Skutt's death.  He also neglected to mention the Will lightning he had used, claiming instead that he had poisoned his dagger.  "Normally, we confiscate weapons from little 'uns like yourself, but I suppose I can say that I never saw you with it."  "What about the wound in the body?" Maze asked.  "Don't worry about that, I'll just plant a poisoned blade near him. . . Oh, some of my men caught the Arson Twins drunk outside town.  All you have to worry about now is that drug pusher, Peter Vex."   Thanking the guaard for the information, Maze left to find his final target. 

   The description of Vex was "Tall, thin, and bespectacled.  Looks innocent to most passerby but is in fact a drug dealer.  If you talk to him, he will probably make up some cover story. Don't believe him!  Get this right, and you get what you want.  Screw it up, and you'll face . .  . concequences,"   It seemed rather suspicious to Maze, but he had a job to do.  A shopkeeper  told him that a "Mr. Vex" lived in a cottage outside Bowerstone and came to the city for supplies once in a while.  Maze decided to go at night; it would be easier to sneak up on the house under the cover of darkness.

~~~~Sorry that this is short, but it's just too hot out where the Internet connection is right now...I'll try to continue at a cooler time of day.~~~~ 

---

Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

Man it's been really hot, but it's a part regardless of this heat.

---

Everybody get drunk.

   The area surrounding the city of Bowerstone was pleasant enough during the day; the large meadow was punctuated by the occasional shade lending oak tree or Old Kingdom ruin, and Bower Lake provided a cool relief to townsfolk during the hot summer months, and an ample bounty to fishers for most of the year.  At night, the mood was different.  A lone owl hooted, then silently flew off from its perch in search of prey.  A few hobbes could be heard in the distance, snuffling and grunting while scavenging for discarded food and junk that they used for weapons and armor.  Maze kept a tight grip on the hilt of his dagger as he crept along the side path that led to Vex's cottage in the nearby woods.  At least there aren't any balverines around here, he thought.  Balverines had senses as sharp as their claws and would have been on his back by now if there were any around.  The beasts liked to attack in small groups too, and ambushing a lone child would have been easy.  Steering away from painful memories of the distant past, Maze looked warily around for signs of the cottage.  He saw a glowing square of light framed in the darkness between the trees; a lit window.  Approaching cautiously, he peered through the window.  A scholarly man in a stained brown apron over his clothing was poring over an ancient and tattered book sitting on a counter.  A shelf above was heavily laden with dried plants, powders, and liquids that seemed to glow from an inner energy.   Maze saw several familiar instruments littering a nearby table: mortar and pestle,small cauldron, measuring flasks, small knives, and leather gauntlets among them.  They could easily have been the tools of a drug maker, but there was something about the way Vex had them set out that seemed suspicious.  Closing the book, Vex turned to get some ingredients out of a cabinet, leaving Maze with a clear view of the book's title. Book of Spells, 3rd Ed.  Peter Vex was not a drug pusher, he was an alchemist.  Or maybe a wizard, Maze thought.

---

Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

awesome, keep going

---

Being nice is strange, I can see a lot up here on morale highground

" Come on! He's just one weedy little man alone in the woods- easy pickin'."  Maze froze. Bandits.  He ducked down below the window so as not to be exposed by the light.  Luckily, there was shrubbery on this side of the cottage, and he was hidden from the bandits' view.  "I saw somethin' in the bushes, Mog! We should go before he sets us on fire or conjures the dead!" nervously shouted the first speaker's partner.  "Oh, shut up Trenton!  It was just his shadow through the window playing tricks on your eyes in the dark.  Or the beer.  Next time, we drink  after the job, not before.  And no more of this supernatural nonsense."  The two bandits lowered their voices as they approached.  "You are too gullible, Trenton.  Wizards are in those fables yer mum tells ya when yer a kid, right before the beer to get you to shut up and go ter sleep. They're not real."  Trenton shut his mouth after this, but Maze saw a drop of sweat hanging off the second bandit's pointy nose as he followed Mog to the front door.  Mog gave the door a hard kick as Trenton unsheathed his sword.  The door fell in and they rushed inside.  What followed was fast and dirty.

   A loud crackle and a blue light pierced the night, and Mog's smoking head rolled out the open doorway.  It was followed by Trenton, running out of the house on fire and screaming.  Peter Vex walked calmly outside, the blue glowing aura around his hands fading away.Maze stepped backwards instinctively, and a twig snapped beneath his feet.  Vex looked straight at him with bright blue eyes piercing through his glasses.  "Yes, boy. What do you want?"  Maze didn't move.  "It's no use hiding any more, boy.  I can see you quite clearly."  Maze reluctantly came out from the bushes; Vex was right, his cover had been compromised. " You should come inside, so we can talk properly.  Don't mind the door, and don't disturb my instruments."  Maze obeyed, and they sat down at a small table inside, near the fireplace.  "Before we start, what is your name, boy?"  Maze hesitated for a moment, but decided that the truth wouldn't hurt.  "My name is Maze, sir."  Vex raised an eyebrow.  "Were you named after the wizard of the old tales, then?"  Maze smiled wryly.  "You might say that."

---

Has the world ended already? Oh dear, I must have missed it. . .

Great!

Just found this today, went through and read it and I can't wait for more

Kudos, sir

 

---

Enjoying Life