Fable II Fan fiction

The Punctuation of Dialogue (Read before posting please)

MJLOVER — Fri, 22 Jun 2007 02:09:12 GMT

I see that in these parts of the forums, you are indeed in need of these advices given by other members of the forums. I have collected all helpful posts from the original BnW2 fanfic thread, and simply copy/pasted them in here. I'm not taking any credit for these posts, and if you want to give credit, do give it to the original poster. TheWhizz got a guide I reckon is written by a man named Ludens. I haven't double checked this so feel free to laugh at me if I'm terribly wrong.

THEWHIZZ:
In a forum that is active, yet where it is obvious that a lot of correction is needed, it appeared to me that this excellent guide on how to properly do dialogue, written by a friend of mine on another forum, would be a great addition. I hope this helps you a lot in your writing!
The Punctuation of Dialogue
Dialogue is a tricky thing. Not only is it quite hard to make characters sound believable, the punctuation of dialogue is a headache. Should the quotation be treated like a full sentence, or is it in the same sentence as the tag? And what if the tag is in the middle? In this text I will try to answer these questions. But first: why should you use dialogue? Why wouldn’t narrative be sufficient for your story? Well, the saying goes that silence can tell more than a thousand words. This may be true, but all human beings talk. They talk an awful lot. And if you tell a story about humans, you will have to make them talk or else they will not seem like humans. Furthermore, dialogue makes the characters come alive, for the writer and even more so for the reader. Therefore, in this guide, I will explain how to punctuate dialogue. The information in this text has been acquired from all over the Internet and I would like to thank the nameless authors of these documents for introducing me to the wondrous world of English punctuation. Case I: the quotation before the tag A piece of dialogue usually consists of two parts: what is said (the quotation); and a tag that states who said it and in what way. For example in the next sentence: “I wonder if I will buy Rome: Total War,” mused Ludens. The quotation is “I wonder if I will buy Rome: Total War” and the tag is “mused Ludens”. There are three things you can note about the example: 1. The quotation is enclosed by quotation marks*. This rule applies to all quotations whether or not a tag is present, but only the exact words of the original sentence are enclosed by quotation marks. Indirect quotations (Ludens said that he wondered if he would buy Rome: Total War) have a different wording and are therefore not enclosed in quotation marks. However, when part of the indirect quotation contains the same words as the original sentence then that part can be enclosed within quotation marks. This is not obligatory, though. 2. Between the quotation and the tag is a comma. If the tag follows the quotation, the comma goes within[b/] the quotation marks. 3. The first word of the tag is0 [b]not capitalized. If the quotation had been a question or exclamation, the comma would have been replaced by a question or exclamation mark, but the first word of the tag would still not have been capitalized. “Shall I buy Rome: Total War?” asked Ludens. “I certainly shall!” he exclaimed. (* This raises the question: which quotation marks? Single or double? This often depends on where the writer is from. In the U.S.A. double quotation marks are favoured, but U.K. writers generally use single. Double quotation marks have the advantage of being distinguishable from apostrophes, that other annoying little punctuation mark, so I recommend using them over the single ones. Some languages use other punctuation marks to indicate quotations, for example hyphen or double angled brackets, but this is not correct here. If you write in English, you should use English punctuation.) Case II: the tag before quotation Ludens continued, “My old computer probably cannot handle it.” Here too there are three things you should note: 1. Again, a comma separates the tag and the quotation; but if the quotation follows the tag, the comma goes outside the quotation marks. 2. When a quotation is at the end of the sentence the period (or question mark or exclamation mark) goes inside the quotation marks. This rule applies to all quotations. 3. The first word of the quotation is capitalized. Case III: dialogue without a tag Off course, if the reader already knows who uttered the sentence, and in what way, then you can skip the tag. The dialogue is then simply treated as a single sentence with quotation marks on either side: “But perhaps I could order Rome: Total War and if my computer turns out to be too slow, I’ll simply wait with playing until I can afford the upgrade.” Case IV: the tag within a single sentence of dialogue “No,” said Ludens in a determined voice, “it will be best if I save for an upgrade first and then buy Rome: Total War.” This technique is not used often since a split in a sentence reads awkwardly, but you can use it if you want to emphasize the first word or part of a sentence. The rules are as follows: 1. On both sides of the tag are commas. The comma before the tag is within the quotation marks, the comma after it is outside, as you would expect from the above cases. 2. The first word of the tag is not capitalized. 3. The first word of the second piece of the quotation is not capitalized either. Case V: the tag between two sentences of dialogue “No, it will be best if I first save for an upgrade and then buy Rome: Total War,” Ludens said in a determined voice. “That way I can enjoy the graphical engine to its max.” – or – “No, it will be best if I first save for an upgrade and then buy Rome: Total War.” Ludens added, “That way I can enjoy the graphical engine to its max.” As you can see here, this is actually a combination of case III with case I or case II respectively: a sentence of dialogue with a tag followed or preceded by a quotation without one. Just apply the rules for case III and II or I and give each sentence its own ending mark. Case VI: multiple paragraphs[/n] “However, I might try to play it on my old PC, though its specs are the same as the minimum requirements. But I did that once before and it ended in disaster. That was with Black & White. grief, it still pains me to think of all the trouble I went through to secure a copy of that game and get it running on my computer, and then finding out that the minimum specifications had been rather generously calculated. And all that for a game that was buggy and far less engaging than I had hoped. Why did the magazines make such a hype of it? Why was there no one who said that he was disappointed about the game? I am still angry when I think of it. “That settles it: I am not again going to buy a game while I have only the minimum specifications. I shall suffer through all the exaggerated tales of fellow Org members and all their panegyrics on the battles, the gameplay, the cinematics and the great historical accuracy. I will save and save and save until I can afford a new computer and then I will join the RTW-fray. That’s what I shall do!” If a character talks for long stretches, you will need to spread the dialogue over several paragraphs in order to prevent long, boring stretches of text without layout. Start a new paragraph when a character changes tone or subject, because you would expect a breath pause at these places. The guidelines are the same as for the other cases, but there are two additional rules: 1. Each time you start a new paragraph, make sure there is an empty line between the two paragraphs. This applies to normal paragraphs and dialogue-paragraphs. If you want a more ‘bookish’ look you can opt for an indent instead of the white line, but this forum does not react well to double spaces at the beginning of a sentence. The forum does have tags for indentation:[indent] for a large indent, [2SP] for a double space, [3SP] for a triple space, but placing these is a lot of work and you need to place the closing tags ([/ INDENT], [/ 2SP] and [/ 3SP], without the spaces following the slash) at the end of the sentences as well. 2. If a character has a speech that lasts several paragraphs, only the last paragraph requires a closing quotation mark. The first paragraphs lack a closing quotation mark to signify that the character is still talking. It is recommended, but not obligatory, that you start a new paragraph whenever a new character starts speaking to avoid confusion about who is talking. [b]Case VII: quotations inside quotations Ludens continued, “And when I have my new computer, I can proudly say, ‘I can play Rome: Total War with graphical detail at maximum and still get a proper frame rate.’ ” Quotations within quotations are perfectly possible: just apply the same rules that apply to normal quotations. But do take care that for every opening quotation mark there is a closing quotation mark, and separate adjoining quotation marks with a space. It is also advisable that you use the other type of quotation marks to set off the internal quotation, as is done in the example, to prevent readers from getting lost. So, if you use double quotation marks, enclose the internal quotation with single quotation marks. If the quotation or the ‘quotation inside the quotation’ is a question or exclamation, you should end with a question or exclamation mark. Ludens continued, “When I have my new computer, shall I be able to say, ‘I can play Rome: Total War with graphical detail at maximum and still get a proper frame rate?’ ” Ludens continued, “And when I have my new computer, I can proudly say, ‘I can play Rome: Total War with graphical detail at maximum, or can’t I?’ ” A quotation inside a quotation inside a quotation is also possible, but I recommend against trying that. It is not grammatically wrong; it’s just hard to read. Conclusion This concludes my dialogue-primer. As you can see, quotations need to be treated as a sentence inside a sentence: the first word of the quotation is capitalized even if it is not the first word of the sentence, but the quotation does not have its own ending mark (apart from the closing quotation mark). If you remember this basic rule, everything in this guide should make sense. I hope you found this text helpful and I wish you luck on any future stories you may embark on. Ludens Addendum It was only after I wrote this guide that I became aware of the fact that there are two views on how to punctuate quotations. My guide takes the conventional view. However, there is another way to punctuate dialogue, called the logical view by its proponents. The logical view holds that a quotation should not contain any punctuation marks that were not present in the original sentence. Take for example this sentence: Rome: Total War has already won many Game-of-the-Month awards and it will win many Game-of-the-Year awards this winter. If I take the first part of this sentence and turn it into a quotation, the conventional views holds that is should be punctuated like this: “Rome: Total War,” Ludens wrote, “has already won many Game-of-the-Month awards.” However, when following the logical view, the sentence looks like this: “Rome: Total War”, Ludens wrote, “has already won many Game-of-the-Month awards”. Spot the two differences: 1. The comma closing the first part of the quotation is outside the quotation marks, since it did not appear in the original sentence. 2. The period is equally outside the quotation marks, because the quotation lacks the last part of the original sentence. Had I quoted the sentence in full however, the period would have been inside the quotation marks: “Rome: Total War”, Ludens wrote, “has already won many Game-of-the-Month awards and it will win many Game-of-the-Year awards this winter.” The same holds true for capitalisation. If the sentence does not begin with a capital letter, the quotation shouldn’t either. Also, the logical view does not hold with commas without a function between the quotation and the tag. In the above example, the commas around “Ludens wrote” are bracketing commas and as such should be included in the sentence, but in simple sentences with just a quotation and a tag, they should not used. “At least, I think it will win many Game-of-the-Year awards” Ludens added. He continued “It might just be that Half-Life 2 wins those, though.” There is no grammatical reason to add a comma between the quotation and the tag. So why did I write that you should do it in the first place? Because it is the convention. The logical view has got logic on its side, but the conventional view is the one most publishers, and almost everyone else, uses. With the exception of a few linguists, nobody uses the logical view and that’s why I wasn’t aware of it when I wrote this guide. Therefore, with this addendum I want to rectify this situation and allow writers to choose for themselves which side they take. But whichever side you choose, I wish you luck in your further career as writer. Ludens 16 Oktober 2004

The Choices we make.

Faerie_child — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 07:40:05 GMT

This is the sequel to The Magi. The story continues on from where The Magi left off. Raven is pregnant with a child whose father is unknown. Caron is dead at the bottom of the cliff. Michael and Shadowwalker are presumed so to.

The name derives from the actions that led to Raven being pregnant and alone. This is her journey to find inner peace and safety for her and her child.

I hope you gain as much pleasure from reading it and I did from writing it. Just as a forewarning there may be illicit words spoken or suggestive scenes, if any are offended you have my deepest apologies but you were warned.

Chronicles of Victor Barefang ~ A Vampires Struggle to Survive in Albion

XxRelicsxX — Tue, 04 Nov 2008 00:30:15 GMT

This is my first Fan Fiction so feel happy to critique it and post your compliments and so on. Warning: There is some mild language and gore in this chapter. Thanks for Reading.

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Chapter One - Bloodlust

      There was a certain chill in the air tonight, the kind that only comes in the eve of winter. I was crouched in the many nooks and crannies in the Old Town district of Bowerstone, entranced by the soft amber glows of the lamps among the many small but comfortable town houses among the street. One by one I watched as darkness overtook each amber glow as the weary citizens headed off to sleep their sweet dreams of money and forbidden love. How I loathe these people. They have no idea how sweet sleep and dreams can be.
    The dry burning in my throat intensified as a guard passed by, broad throught the shoulders and muscled through the hours of training he had committed himself to keep in shape in his off time, but he was not the one I wanted. As he passed I saw a tremor rivet his body, no doubt by the cold or the thought of being watched. It would have been so easy to overpower him, he may have been strong but I knew I was stronger. I could feel his convulsions as my canines slipped into his juggular where his sweet life source lies pumping strongly into my mouth and quenching this nefarious thirst.
     I couldn't stop the low guttural moan of yearning escape my lips, I knew that was a mistake. The guard was no more than ten feet away and I could clearly see his muscles go rigid.
   "Who the hell is there?" The guard barked in a hoarse voice, his hand twitching to his steel flintlock pistol.
"I am simply a myth my friend." I couldn't help but smile as the man whirled around where I was a few seconds earlier. Before he could reply or withdraw his weapon I snapped his neck with a satisfying creacking sound that echoed through the dark, lonely street. The burning in my throat was now almost intolerable and I had to grate my teeth in order not to rip his neck open right there in the street. "No, I am a professional and I will not commit such a rookie mistake." I reached into one of my coat pockets and planted a rusty hammer a few feet from the corpse as I trudged along to the house of Violet Herst's cottage.
   Violet was a remarkable young woman, she had just blossomed into a woman and the scent of her blood took my breath away when I first laid my eyes on her. She was a taller girl, lean with muscle from swimming in the river three days a week. Her hair was a honey brown and hanged loosely past her shoulders, her skin was turned amber from the sun. She had a round face with large innocent eyes that were green and speckled with gold flakes, her lips were carved as if they were chiseled by a master sculpter along with her fine straight nose. Yes, she will be a fine meal tonight I thought as my canines unfurled in anticipation for the delightful meal ahead.
   Her cottage was near the end of the street near the Market Road. It was a two story cottage with a large, heavy oak door near the center of the cottage. The estate's perimeter was protected by an iron fence that was more for looks than keeping intruders out. Within the fence was a garden beginning to bloom with the winter flowers such as Midnight Blues, December Daisies, and Winter Roses. It tore my heart out to trample such beautiful shades of black, blue, and white flowers, but I had to make it look like a fool had done the deed instead of a civilized person like me. The lock was a flimsy one and I easily destroyed it with a well aimed blow that made minimal sound.
Inside Violet's cottage was the standard living conditions of a middle class citized of Bowerstone: An iron stove and furnace, an oak dining table with four flimsy cushioned chairs, and a large arm chair near the fireplace. I recognized all of this in less than a second as I glided up the staircase to the second story of the cottage. Upstairs Violet was in a deep content sleep in her queen sized bed. As I skulked closer to her bedside Violet murmured happily in her sleep, Sweet dreams my dear for this will be your last I thought as I crouched over to her neck. Her scent was intoxicating, it smelled of exotic flowers with a faint hint of mint mixed in, my canines now showing plainly throught my tightly pressed lips.
As I slipped my teeth into her perfect neck Violet jolted awake, her muscles went rigid at first but they started to relax as her life source left her body. I listened in a trance as her heart sang death's melody as it grew fainter and fainter. I stopped drinking when my belly was ready to burst, the inferno raging in my throat subsided for a short time. As I dislodged myself from her neck I couldn't stand to look at her face, this was the part I always hated. I slid a fine steel blade from my shirt's pocket, the edge honed down that it could split the skin with the slightest pressure. I slid the blade across her neck and felt the warm blood splash across my cold pale hand, I could smell the sweet tang of blood as it drenched her night gown and the creamy white sheets in which she laid on.
   " I am sorry my lady, life is cruel and I hate that I had to do this to one that's so beautiful as you." I murmured as I placed her comforter over her head in respect. As I made my way out into the street I made sure to smash her furniture and to swipe a few semi-precious trinkets from her home. As I made my way through the twisting streets of Bowerstone a violent cold wind sprang up. I could not help but shiver as I walked on in silence, but it was not the cold that affected me but a mounting suspicion that this would not be the last time I saw Violet Herst.

Broken Pieces

countdowntoxmas — Wed, 05 Aug 2009 03:35:59 GMT

Author's note:

Broken Pieces is the sequel to my relatively successful fanfic called Soul Savers. So If you have not read it, I would suggest you do so before reading this.

A note on Soul Savers: please excuse the first six or so chapters, I was very inexperienced then and made some rather large errors, I'm pleased to say that I managed to counterbalance these errors later on, and in the five months that I worked in Soul Savers I improved dramatically at writing.

And so without further ado I present you with Broken Pieces!

End of A King

CdotH — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 19:27:33 GMT

The cold unforgiving steel tainted crimson as helpless souls enter oblivion,the cold winter air a dog nipping at my arms , as the soldiers and auxialary's return home to their farms. But what great victory was there to record, only thirteen knocks to my sword.

We massacred these peasants these scum, but our kings bloodlust had only just begun. And as we soldier on, the people grow weary, this war is no fun. Though this is'nt a war it is pest control, and with each triumph, less rebels enroll. We kill our own, our brothers , then we burn the home of their mothers.

As thieves, beggers and scoundrels begin to search the body's for plunder, my eyes open and i begin to wonder, what will the gods think of me when this war is over.

Eye of the Beholder

dawgz525 — Sun, 10 May 2009 03:55:02 GMT

This is a story that has been in my head forever, but I just recently began writing it. The first chapter centers on a female hero, but the story will focus on several heroes. The title isn't directly based off the story, but it is relevant. Hope you enjoy it.

         The guards of Oakvale were on their toes tonight. They had received an anonymous tip that the general storehouse would be robbed. The captain turned to his lieutenant and gave a series of hand gestures. The lieutenant nodded and moved into position along with several other guards. The captain did a head count to make sure that all twenty of his guards were there. Normally, twenty guards for a simple sting operation would have been a bit too much, but whoever had sent the tip of the robbery to the guardhouse had informed them that tonight's burglary would be committed by a hero. A hero on a foggy night like tonight could be trouble, trouble that demanded the full attention of the captain's twenty, finest guards.

         The captain finished his head count, and to his dismay, three guards were missing. "Get ready guards, the hero's here!" he shouted to his troops. Any element of surprise that the guards had was lost. The captain began to shout orders to his men, as he drew his sword, but he was disarmed by a blur before he could finish them. The blur struck him in chest and sent him flying into the storehouse wall. Struggling to stand, the guard watched as the blur finished off the rest of his squad. Upon dispatching the last of the guards, the blur stopped long enough for the captain to see the hero. She was short with tight brown hair. Her face was partially covered with a veil, but the captain could see her pale blue eyes when she drew her sword and began walking his way. A fireball struck the hero before she made it to the captain, and she flew back several feet. As the smoke was clearing, the captain saw a man jump from the storehouse roof. This new hero wore leather armor with the hood up. The captain couldn't make out his savior's visage, but he stood, sheathed his sword, and began to thank the hero for saving his life. The hero paid no attention to the captain and nonchalantly killed him with a fireball. The female hero recovered from the fireball and rushed toward the man. Before she arrived, a third hero jumped from the storehouse roof and tackled the thief. The third hero was a young woman with long golden hair that covered much of her face; the woman wore a long cloak. The two women fought furiously to a stalemate. The thief was moving with inhuman speed, but the second woman blocked and countered all of her attacks.

         "Stop" the man yelled to the fighting heroines as he removed his hood. The man was young, but his features indicated that he had experienced more than most have in a lifetime. His face was cracked with bright blue will lines that usually appeared on mages twice his age. The cloaked heroine flipped back behind the man and stood motionless. The thief didn't know why, but she stopped and listened to the man as he spoke. "I've been watching you for some time now. I've watched as you waste your time and talent robbing general stores. I've seen what you're capable of. You're a hero, an exceptional person, one of us. Heroes used to rule Albion; we did as we pleased. There was a time when those awed by your feats would worship you as a god. I would like to see Albion return to those times. More guards are on there way, and I promise that you will not defeat them all. You now have two options. Your first is the most obvious. You stay here; you die. Your second choice is to come with me. Leave this place with me and join my cause. The choice is yours, Emily."

         The man's last statement caught Emily off guard. How did this man know her name? She was speechless and did not trust him at all, but the noise of the incoming guards made her choice an easy one. "Fine, I'll go with you." she finally spoke. The man nodded and held out a small coin shaped object. Emily did as the other hero did and touched the coin. She heard a ringing and saw a flash; when her vision cleared she was in the ruins of an old castle. Emily later learned that the man's name was Cassius and his female apprentice was a seer by the name of Artemis.

         Upon her arrival, Emily met several more heroes. Apparently, Cassius had been recruiting heroes for some time. Artemis could sense heroes and those with the ability to command will. Emily was to receive training for her special talents. She could not only slow time, but distort it any way she wished. Her powers were still under developed though, and it was an enormous strain for her to reverse or even stop time for too long. She learned that the abandoned castle that was now her new home was the old Hero's Guild. A building that had been razed after Albion declared heroes outlaws five years ago. Emily remembered that day vividly. The day that guards came through Bowerstone and killed her parents for hiding her brother and her. She was separated from her brother that day. That day was the beginning of her lonely lifestyle, but this day seemed more optimistic. This day seemed to have purpose. Purpose that could redeem her life and avenge her parents. After she was showed to her room, Emily attempted to fall asleep, but found it impossible. Her mind was racing with thoughts of what the next day would bring. As Emily finally drifted off to sleep, Cassius and Artemis were in the tower of the guild. "Will she stay?" questioned Cassius.

         "It's impossible to tell right now."

         "What of her brother?"

         "He's dead...I think."

         "You think? Is he alive or not?"

         "I don't know! The future isn't as easy to read as you think! The future changes every day. I can never be sure when I'm looking that far into the future, so you should be satisfied with what I can tell you." Artemis snapped as she descended the tower's stairs and went back to her own room. Cassius held his arm out in her direction, and a formerly transparent collar began to glow. Artemis collapsed in pain at the bottom of the stairs. As she writhed on the ground, Cassius casually walked down the stairs until he stood over her.

         "You belong to me; I would advise that you never forget that."

         Cassius walked out of the tower to his quarters while Artemis slowly regained control of her body. She put her hands to her neck and clawed for the collar that was no longer there. The seer cursed as she stood and returned to her room.

         Emily's first day began abruptly. Artemis woke her at sun rise for basic melee training. She was instructed to not use her time travel; Artemis told her that she had relied on that "crutch" for far too long. After five hours of drilling, her session was interrupted by Cassius. He instructed Artemis and her that they would be sent on a mission to enlist another hero in Sol, a small trader colony that had evolved into a seedy port town. The two heroines traveled by horseback. Along the way, Emily asked about the extent of Artemis's abilities.

         "How far into the future can you see?"

         "I don't exactly see a single future. I can see the outcomes of one's decisions. The farther into the future I look, the more outcomes I see. For some people, I can clearly see the day they die, but for others, I can't see more then a few days."

         "How far into my future can you see?"

         "Cassius doesn't want me discussing your future with you."

         "Why?"

         "You're still a young hero; knowing your own fate can force you into making brash decisions. I can tell you that the future of the hero that we're after is extremely complicated. He has also conditioned himself in a way that makes it hard to find him."

         "Why would he do that?"

         "Because Cassius and I have gone after him many times before. He is important to our cause, yet he continually rejects our offers."

         The two continued their talk for the entire journey and arrived slightly before sundown. Having had skipped breakfast and lunch, the heroines decided to enter the small town's only "eatery," a tavern known as The Blind Eye. The Blind Eye Tavern was hardly a building. The roof consisted of a small sheet of metal riddled with holes; it was held up by four ancient trees that served as supports. Every time it rained, the dirt floor was transformed into a mud hole, but despite the tavern's many flaws, it was always overflowing with patrons. Most of the men were sailors or dock workers, most of the women whores. Tonight, as the two young women entered the building was no different. Emily felt out of place, violated by the mere stares of these men, but Artemis was completely calm. The atmosphere was fairly docile until several comments and a slap on the ass by a drunk. In seconds the entire bar erupted into a brawl. Many were too drunk to know who they were fighting, but those who were unlucky enough to get in the way of the combat trained seer and her time wielding accomplice met a quick demise. Before long, the bar was empty; the two heroes stood alone in the destroyed bar.

         Emily felt a chill run down her spine, as she turned to see who had just started clapping. Outside of the tavern, she saw a tallish man wearing leather armor with the hood up. As he stepped into the tavern, he removed his hood and walked toward an empty table. As he sat down, he took a drink and looked to Artemis and said, "So you finally found me."

         "It wasn't easy."

         "Cassius is still after me. I wonder why?" as he spoke he threw the mug to the ground and stood. He walked up to Artemis and looked her in the eye. "What does he see? What am I destined to do?" The sarcasm in his voice was clearly evident. He grabbed Artemis's head and held it close to his so that the two were eye to eye.

         "Go ahead; what do you see?"

         Emily drew her sword ready to defend Artemis, but before Emily could attack him, he pushed Artemis out of the way and knocked Emily to the ground with will. Instantly, Emily found herself immobilized by ice. The hero turned to Artemis and helped her up.

         "Give Cassius my usual answer."

         Artemis sighed and turned to Emily. She used an inferno spell to melt the ice and offered her hand to her downed accomplice. "I take it that he was the hero we were supposed to find." Emily said as she sheathed her sword.

         "You would be right; his name is Vincent. We have a...complicated past."

         Emily was tired and cold so she didn't press the issue further. The two got back on their horses and road back to the Guild.

The King!

Skeane12 — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 22:29:45 GMT

The pompous king walks along the old mountain road. His royal blue robes appear silver in the lunar rays of the full white moon. His jewel encrusted crown masks him from us. On either side of him are his royal guards, seven of us. We walk slowly and consistently, in perfect time with the king’s movements without ever having to see them. It’s strange to think of him as a king, the title doesn’t suit him. Tyrant however, that’s a title that sits on the King’s head much more gracefully than his crown.

A whisper falls from the King’s lips. I foolishly turn to listen, but he isn’t talking to us, his teeth are just chattering with the cold. He’d never dream of speaking to us, for that would be treating us like equals and something the Royal Blue King will never do is treat others like equals. But it must be difficult for him to treat others like equals, after all no one else can have an entire village burned to the ground with a simple flick of their wrist. It doesn’t matter however whether my views are shared or if they are my own. It’s obsolete because I am one of the Tyrant’s royal guards, as far as others are concerned, I’ve made my decision. I turn my head away from the King, my hilted sword clinks off of the ground as I move, the only sound on this lonely mountain road.

Our walk continues slow but constant bringing us alongside a coniferous forest. The trees stretch high into the sky blocking out the silvery light of the moon. The earth below the trees is covered in fallen spines, the pinecone scent fills the air. The trees make me uneasy, their shapes are haunting and the darkness between them worries me even more. Anything or anyone could be watching us from the darkness. A twig snaps somewhere, its sound echoes around the mountain. It’s source could be five kilometres from us or five meters. Our pace quickens and unknown to all of us a Tyrant King’s hearts begins to beat faster, his eyes darting from place to place, searching for any sign of movement.

We continue until another sound stops us, the groaning crack of a snapping branch. On a silent windless night, this is an unwelcome sound. Seven swords are drawn in an instant. The king backs away from the forest. The silent night is suddenly filled with a strange wooden whistle. Arrows tear through the sky, the two guards closest the forest fall instantly, groaning only slightly as they die. Before silence has a chance to take hold, shouts sound from the forest. Several figures dart towards us from the forest shrouded in shadows and rags. With a flash of steel weapons are in their hands. Two of the figures race towards me, I swing my sword at them. The blade connects twice and the figures fall away, dead or dying. The overpowering smell of blood begins to fill the air.

A third opponent presents himself to me. He darts towards me, metal strikes metal. We strike and defend while moving around each other. Our movements are precise like a dance, however make one mistake and its all over. My opponent stumbles over a stone, I strike, he dies in an instant. Someone punches me in the face and I fall too.

I’m back on my feet moments later. I spit out blood its copper taste making me feel sick. Someone grabs on to me. I almost strike before I realise it is the Tyrant, his eyes wide with fear. All around us bodies litter the mountain path. The king and I are the only ones left. Destiny has a twisted sense of humour. I hear the lone whistle of a single arrow. The king frantically grabs my arm. Everything slows down and a choice presents itself to me. I know what I should do, what’s expected of me. I should stand in front of the Tyrant King and give up my life for him. But what if I don’t? Kill one and save a thousand or save him and doom us all? Why are we here? That’s not important. What we do with our time, that’s what makes all the difference.

Let me know what you think?

Albion Tales

hawk540 — Sat, 26 Sep 2009 18:13:29 GMT

Have you always wanted to be a part of the Fable game and really choose your own destiny?

Well news because now you can! Check out this fanfic website: http://albiontales2.proboards.com/index.cgi

You can really choose what you want to be and do. Work your way up the Bandit ranks, become a Hero or just slouch about in Bowerstone being a Civilian. You can own houses, get a job, take on quests and more.

The best part is that this is a community site with regular members so people will post alongside you to make things interesting, plus you can make new friends with everybody.

[Please note that this is set in Fable: TLC not Fable 2 and you write in your adventures, what you are doing etc... And sorry if I am not allowed to advertise here ]

Fan Pics

CJ_Sparrow — Tue, 05 Jun 2007 01:06:35 GMT

Hey guys, seeing as how Hermit is doing so much for the Fable fanfic community I thought I'd hop on the bandwagon and here's the result: AN IMAGE THREAD!!! Just so anybody out there with an artistic flair can show it off to the rest of us. And I've got one to kick it off too... This picture isn't personally one of mine but I found it on deviantart.com and thought it would be cool to show to you guys. His screen name is "thevampiredio" btw EDIT: Just so you know, to upload images on to the site use imageshack.us, upload your image there then copy and paste ALL the code from the box labelled "Thumbnails for forums (1)". Have fun

The vengeance of Kyle

Jodokonthefirst — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 20:39:31 GMT

This my first fan fic story be as brutal as you want
here it is

I woke up and was blinded by glaring sun the waves near me were warming to my body, I woke up, The waves felt smooth as silk and my body limp and weary hanging in the cold abyss known as the sea and my last known anchor to life was this floating barrel and the life that is still in my hand and heart. My name is Kyle, I was an adventurer, some adventurer I am, My crew is dead a feast for the seagulls, my companions no where in sight. I guess I better start from the beginning, eh?

"Hey Kyle wake up." I felt a thump on my forehead and the throbbing pain, I went back to sleep and pretended like that it didnt hurt but felt like a gentle and natural sleep. "KYLE WAKE UP!!" This time I felt the full force of this person waking me up, It was James, my brother, a little forceful but still a faithful brother and a little goofy. "Dads looking for you Kyle,"Said James
"Says he has something for you to do."

"Finally." i said, I got up grouchy and a little excited, I got my clothes on and left and the blinding sunlight met my eyes and the first thing I saw when the sunlight was the same Town square with the same boulder, and the sound of the waves greeting my ears, The town looked the same, thats Trill Harbor for you, I walked on looked at the others, everyone droopy and bored, the crate carriers nearly drowsy, the houses looked grey and dull, the ocean was the only colorful thing out their, tradition states that once a boy becomes of age he goes out into the world to bring honor and the name Trill Harbor to the world, so far none have except Caningan the Charger, a great hero that was born around when The Hero of Oakvale slayed Jack of blades, I was so intrigued by it that when I was nothin but a lad the size of that stump next to that boulder.
"Now Sunny, why didnt you tap the boulder of Heroic Resolve." I turned around and Gregor walked towards me, An old Bard whos great great great great grandfather was labled the worst bard when the Hero of Oakvale was still around he was famous for his poems and songs of him, but now he has nothing to do but honor the tradition of the Heroes and the traditions of the village."Its just a boulder, a plan boulder that Caningan touched, nothing special." I said stoutly and dully. He just smiled and his smile was warming and he said"Just a boulder? That boulder gave us hope for this village to continue." I smiled in return and tapped the boulder, Gregor then said"Now do you want to come in for some chowder?"
"No thank you my father wanted me for something." I said and then I turned and headed toward the direction he was in.
"Their you are Kyle." And the figure up ahead was my dad, tall and a little intimidating, but dull and kind at heart."Its about time I told you why I brought you out here."
"You need me to work?" I said and decided to grab the nearest net and got into the boat."No son, thats not why, your 17 and your almost a man, its about time I told you something."
Before he spoke an explosion came from the town and their was a monster from the sea."WE CAN TALK LATER, BUT FOR NOW GET YOUR BROTHER AND RUN!!!" He yelled, right when he was yelling he pulled his rifle and went to the village to fight. I ran as fast as I can to our house and when I reached the village their, I saw the monster up close, Gregor told us about it, A kraken, it was black and had bladed tentacles and was armored by a strange steel.

A New World

twelthdoctor — Thu, 17 Jul 2008 05:19:57 GMT

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.

Just for the fun of it...

Zhivago — Fri, 09 May 2008 20:32:40 GMT

" And lo it came to pass that the mighty hero, Hedgetrimmer strode out among them to face his destiny. Bravely, with dignity, with poise. Alone.

'Scrabbalaggaflange!' screamed the hobbe leader, bellowing the hobbe warcry throughout the greatwood gorge. The insiduous sound rattled the very stones of the cliff face. Some smaller rocks were dislodged from the gorge sides, to form a perfect likeness of Liam Neeson, creating the landmark headland of Neesonness.

As the stones fell to the ground, the earth shook again as the mighty hero roared his battle cry expression at the nearest hobbe, which glowed with an ominous red mist.....

'Heeyaaah!' He shouted with the veracity of a fallow deer in rutting season. 'Heeeyaah!' He shouted again! 'Heeeyyyy' He sighed when he accidentally used the wrong expression. A move that shook the ranks of the hobbe horde that stood before him. They pushed back towards their lair in the Greatwood caves...

Stood before the hobbe cave entrance, the hobbes parted. Between them strode a sight so fearsome that it could shake a mans bones to dust. Particularly if he was trying to build up a decent combat multiplier. This hobbe held in its hands one of the mighty hobbe staffs. That glowed with the brightness of a thousand B&Q outdoor barbecue heaters.

'SCLAGBAGCALAGAKAWASAKI!!!!!!' The mage mutterd almost inaudibly. A blast from the staff. The hero dodged. A shimmer of steel, a spurt of blood. One dead hobbe. Shocked by the death of their mage with the hero's singular blow the other hobbes fled the gorge.

'Go on! run you fat little gimps!' shouted the mighty Hedgetrimmer, as he loomed over the dying corpse of the hobbe mage. He raised his sword into the air and plunged it into the mage's chest. With a very anticlimactic 'bleh...' The hobbe died.

The hero gave chase into the hobbe cave and slaughtered the inhabbitants. He ventured deep into the catacombs... even into that odd little room with the cages in that contains no bloody treasure what so ever apart from a bandit who apparently dies after one hit anyway...

After amassing a combat multiplier high enough for even the guildmaster himself to call him adept... The hero strode back outside, dispensing any stragglers on the way. Stunned and awed at having forgotten it was there before,the hero saw looming before him the grim visage of the Greatwood Caves Demon door.

He strode up to the demon door and commanded it to speak. With a voice so booming, so deep, so resonant, so excessively manipulated by some nutter of a sound engineer the door spaked 'I need to see your combat multiplier get higher before I swing ajar...'

The hero, having forgotten that changing from one area to another halved his combat multiplier simply walked away and pushed onwood into the eerie darkwood..."

The story coninues in the reply to this post... (Go on, it'll be fun!)

The Tribulations of Kert and Amber

RedRacoon — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 20:03:24 GMT

Okay, everyone. I returned it all to rich format again. My bad. This original post has all six chapters in it from the first part of the story, so it's a long one. I included a title for this Part: Fate Uses Force. So if you had trouble reading it the first time around(Avo knows that's true of everyone), feel free to read knowing that the bad format monster has been slain.

Then Fate Called on Twinschemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" />>>

A Path>>

> >

Part One

Fate Uses Force

Chapter One: A Ride With the Stagecoach>>

> >

“Boys will be boys, and so will a lot of middle-aged men.”

-Kin Hubbard, 1868-1930

> >

Early summer, chemas-microsoft-comfficemarttags" />6:37>>

3 years after The Fall of the Spire>>

lace>laceName>WitchwoodlaceName> laceType>ForestlaceType>lace>>>

Dusk nigh approaches, and the wagon approaches a large hill, from which the passengers can see the grass all around, surrounded and bathed in light still radiating from the sun’s defiant luminosity. It wasn’t going to set on the western horizon, at least not without a fight. As they reach closer to the top, a strong breeze picks up, and causes the trees nearby to bend at the wind’s command, losing several brownish and golden-yellow leaves. The passengers look to where the breeze came from, and squint with quizzical looks as they view a strong storm over a low valley, off in the distance across the cliff which the hill borders, to the north.

The stagecoach cried, gruffly, “Now arriving at Sunburn Glade.”

The passengers look out to the row of trees packed tightly together, acting as a naturally grown fortress for the little community inside. There was a gap near the middle marked by the absence of trees that had been cut down, which served as the entrance for the wagon. A little head, with hair black as night, and eyes dark as coffee, poked out from the wagon. The rest of its body revealed itself, jumping from the coupling of the passenger wagon to the stagecoach’s wagon. Looking out from behind it, the little boy saw his father. He had auburn colored hair. The hair on his head was long, short in the back, bangs falling straight down over his eyes. His beard ran thick from his sideburns to his moustache and soul patch. It was no longer than what gave thick, rough cover over his face. His father saw him, and shouted excitedly, “There’s my boy!” The boy, elated to see his father, jumped from the wagon and crashed to the ground. Rolling half as fast as the horse, his roll took him to the dirt-paved road. He slowed to a stop, and as he lay forth on his belly there was a fresh piece of horse excrement waiting to smear his white T-shirt. As he sat up with his denim shorts in a tangle, his father walked over. He was wearing the same white shirt, but sleeveless, and his pants were brown with patches on them. He was barefoot, just like his son.

“Kert, are you all right?” His smooth, yet deep, tenor bass voice asked the question that now came as second nature.

Kert’s own voice was still just below the pitch of a little girl’s, but to himself, it sounded a bit lower. “Oww, yeah, I think so…” Kert looked down at his shirt, and winced in exaggeration over the smell. His father tried to suppress giggles, to no avail.

“Hah, look at that big brown spot! Pew!”

“Dad, I landed in poop!”

“I'm sorry, Son.” That didn’t stop the giggles.

“Well, if YOU think it’s funny, how ‘bout you try some on?”

As his father shouted things like “No!” “Stop!” “I’m your father, why would you do this to me!?” Kert was having fun chasing him down with his soiled shirt, both laughing. They ran into the village, laughing and shrieking.

Trees surrounded the village from all sides. A few winding roads lead up on a hill in the middle of town. There were different, assorted buildings along these roads; homes, buildings housing trades and homeowners, storage houses. The stagecoach was parking the wagons and letting the people out. Jerry, the town crier, stood at the top of the hill, lean and pale, bell ringing noisily in hand. At the moment, he was announcing a marriage ceremony to begin the next day.

As Father and Son entered the town tousling with the shirt, the few nearby stopped what they were doing. Most of the men were barefoot, while women wore sandals, shoes, booties, something to keep from getting callus on the bottoms of their feet. The blacksmith stopped forging with his hammer in mid-swing, and he would have to start all over again. A couple in a shady spot were locked in a prolonged kissing motion when the man, strained by his curiosity, pulled his head away, slightly upsetting his sweetheart temporarily. An innkeeper turned her head, seeming to be spaced out to whom she was waving hello.

Kert tried one last time to get his father’s face, He with the pudding-skin-textured substance, when Mother interrupted by yanking the shirt away.

“Eww! Isaac, why would you encourage him to play with this!?” Her demanding soprano voice seemed yet to flow like a silhouette.

She looked just as surprised as anyone else in town, with a twinge of embarrassment. She had on a bright purple, long-sleeved blouse, with a bandana holding her hair loose behind her shoulders and down her shoulder blades. A dark green skirt girdled her waist. She stood inside brown, mid-calf booties.

“I didn’t, Edna, he just started chasing me with it!”

Kert piped up. “Hey! You were laughing at me!”

“Son, I said I was sorry! But really, that look on your face was just-” he looked to Edna for help.

Edna’s look of surprise turned into a grin. “Well, maybe with a straight face on, now you can apologize to him proper.”

Isaac turned to his son. “Okay, I’m sorry, Son. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“Thank you, Dad.” By this time everyone had stopped staring. “Uh, Dad, you have some on your face.”

“Oh! Thanks, at least you told me that right away!”

The two of them giggled. One thing Kert was suspicious of is some things would happen around him that didn’t seem to fit with what he perceived to be normal. If he saw a bug he was afraid of, he’d be further away from it if it startled him. He didn’t know how he’d be further away. He didn’t run, get up, lean back, there was no explanation. Once Dad went looking for him once when he was out of bed and downstairs eating a midnight snack. He hid under the table, and when dad came to find him, he wasn’t under the table. He was by the stairs, which he carefully crept up back to his bed. These things were unexplainable, and he kept them to himself mostly because he thought Mom and Dad would laugh it off.

Someone familiar came off from the wagon, waltzing in Kert’s direction. It was his sister, Amber. She was wearing mid-calf booties like her mother’s, and beautiful brown dress with red embroidery. Her blonde hair and brown eyes were a rarity, and to some it was an oddity, but to him, in words he couldn’t use, it was one of the most beautiful rarities on this world. He loved his twin sister so much, no matter how horrible he treated her at given moments.

“Hey there, Nutter!” she called. Her voice was a bit more acute than her brother’s.

“Hey Snot Snogger!” he called in turn. Those names were their affectionate insults that they threw at each other to skip what they still considered formal at that age: their real names.

“Nice one, Nutter! Sure, it’d be a idea to jump off the wagon. Hah!”

“Whatever. I just love my dad! Why didn’t YOU jump off?”

“Because I could wait, silly!” She had him there.

Suddenly Mom popped in. “Kids, why can’t you use each other’s real names? You father and I worked so hard on figuring out what to call you. Right, Isaac?”

“They came up with names easier than we did-”

“Isaac…”

“Ah, yes, Amber, what’s your brother’s real name?”

Amber sighed. “Kerty…”

“And Kert, what’s your sister’s real name?”

“Gosh! Amber…”

“That’s right.”

“Isaac!” A voice similar to before came from left field. It was the stagecoach.

“Is he all right, Isaac? I didn’t give him the okay for jumping.”

Graham Kodel was one of Isaac’s friends. He now wore a black suit with a black bowtie and a yellow frilled shirt, along with goggles and a top hat. His brown dog shoes commented his lesser man’s job. They went way back, and they’ve been friends ever since they told each other what they wanted to be when they grew up.

“Graham! to see you! Yeah, he’s fine, thank Avo. Aren’t you, you little rascal?” Dad ran his fingers through Kert’s hair.

“That boy has Skorm’s luck. Speaking of rascals, he got into all sorts of things while we were away at town yesterday, and I had to be there to apologize to everyone, and eventually the whole town!”

“Really?” is that true, boy?”

“Uh… I…”

“Oh yes, Daddy,” Amber piped up. “He-”

Dad turned to Amber. “Amber, I wasn’t talking to you.”

“Come now, boy, just quit your stuttering and tell your father the truth.” His mother’s soothing voice was enough to confess to his father in the presence of his unwilling caretaker, Graham.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Isaac was about to tell the young boy his sentence when Graham interrupted.

“He made up for most of it though- did some errand work and wood-chopping to help right the losses. I would have made him work in the bar to make up for the broken glasses, but, ah, I don’t think you’d have wanted him in that environment, so I just paid for it. In turn, he passed out some fliers for me.”

“Oh… is that so?” Graham nodded in confirmation. “Well, that saves you about 20 spankings.”

“WHAT? How many does that leave?”
“Well, I don’t know,” and turning to Graham, he said, “What did he do for the town?”

“Well, nothing. But they gave him punishment by giving him the grand tour of the prison.”

“Really? What did you learn at the prison, son?”

“It looked like Skorm’s eternity, Dad!”

“Now don’t use that language like that, Son! But I believe you.”

Edna looked over at her husband with a pleading expression. Not even looking, Isaac pretended to count, and then, bending down to his son’s ear, whispered a number. Kert’s face suddenly showed relief.

“But that doesn’t mean you can go around doing the bad things you want to and making up for it in work.” Dad had a point. “I’ll have no son of mine breaking things and thinking he can get away with making up.”

“But what if it’s not my fault?”

“We’ll talk about that when we get to it.”

“Okay, Dad.”

He spoke again to Graham. “And how did my Amber behave?”

“She did just fine, Isaac. Like a right angel.”

“.” Isaac was grinning as he looked over to Edna for a second, and then his grin got wider as he turned to their kids. “Well come on then, You didn’t expect me to send you off on a ride with Graham on your 8thbirthday and not expect a story about how it was, did you? Come on, let’s go home and we’ll hear all about it.”

His children caught a smile each, both of which grew till their faces seemed to overflow. “Yeah!”

Edna grinned wide, showing her neat, white teeth. “Thanks, Graham.”

“Don’t, please. I’d be happy to take the little youngsters on another trip,” and he grinned, and adding, “If he promises to behave next time.”

“Oh he’ll behave!” exclaimed Amber. Their parents and Graham laughed at this.

“Come on, let’s not forget story time!” reminded Mother.

The four of them ran off up a winding road in the shade of the giant trees surrounding, and entered their shack. It was a big shack, an elaborate maze inside a wooden, unevenly framed exterior, painted bright red and orange.

The children knew nothing of their destiny. They thought they would live a life of quiet in this town forever, and wouldn’t have to deal with outside troubles. They thought there were people who dealt with that sort of thing already. Truth be told, someone had plans for them, plans that they would have to overcome.

Chapter Two: The Disgusting Ceremony>>

> >

There can be no keener revelation of a society’s soul than the way in which it treats its children.

-Nelson Mandela

> >

11:30>>

Sunburn Glade>>

“Get up! Get up from your naps, kids! There’s a wedding ceremony today! Amber! Kert!”

The curtains pulled back, and a ray of sunshine as big as the window it hit fell into the room and onto the children’s eyes, making the pupils shrink in pain.

“Dad, what’s going on?” Isaac was dressed in a black suit with a white, frilled shirt. A blue bowtie adorned his neck. He was wearing shoes, black shoes. His hair was parted from one side. This seemed a bit strange to Kert.

Amber got a surprised grin on her face. “Nutter, didn’t you hear the crier yesterday? There’s a wedding taking place today.”

“Uh, okay.”

“‘Okay’? C’mon, this is a big celebration! We’ll see a ceremony, meet friends and family, and there’ll be a reception after!”

“A what? Recepichun? What’s that?”

Their father spoke up. “Never mind, Son, let’s just get the two of you dressed.”

His father dressed him in what looked like the same fashion, but he got a red bowtie, and his hair wasn’t parted at the side, but at the middle. He felt like… he didn’t know, but he felt lame.

“Dad, this is all weird.”

“Don’t worry, Kert, every other man or boy will be dressed like this.”

The dress that Amber got to wear was red, with black embroidery. She got a yellow, firm straw hat to wear, which had a red ribbon attached around its base. Her shoes were red.

They went downstairs to greet Edna, dressed in a green, strapless dress. Kert and Amber kept walking downstairs to meet her, but Isaac, upon seeing her, stood at the halfway point on the stairs, captivated by her beautiful smile. The green looked like lime green and forest green melted together, without the shine or shade of either color respectively. Her shoes were dark blue-green high heels. Her corsage was two white roses, with small Queen Anne’s lace flowers. Kert couldn’t think to notice how beautiful she was, but Dad and Amber did. Isaac stared into her brown eyes, which seemed large against the other colors, remembering the beauty that had captured him as a young man. They smiled for a while, and the little 8 year old by the wife’s side was beginning to wonder when this “wedding” was supposed to start.

“Dad, when’s the wedding going to start?”

“It won’t be for another, ah, 15 minutes, Son.”

“What!? What time is it, Dad?”

“It’s 11:45.”

“Why is it happening in the middle of the day?”

It’s our tradition, Son. We get enough sunlight to see in the village, but the most we get is during the day, when the sun shines directly down on us. The hill is directly under the area where our village with the most sunlight. And there, you can see it shine down in a way that almost makes it seem… holy.”

While he was speaking, Isaac and Edna’s eyes met again, and Kert was getting annoyed.

“Dad, can we go now?”

“Ah, yes, let’s go.”

“Yay! Isn’t love pretty?” Amber cried.

They left the house and started up the winding path to the top of the hill. Meeting others along the way, they conversed with the townsfolk on the way up the impressively large knoll. Kert had never thought of why the trees were there before, so he decided to ask.

“Mom, how did the giant trees get here?”

Jeez, Kert, you didn’t ask until now?” Amber teased.

“Amber, don’t be mean! Well, they were here before we got here, but there are people old enough now to remember. They themselves planted the trees there, waiting outside, and tending the trees until they got so big that they covered up what they surrounded.”

“Wow!”

“The people here planted them to make a natural fortress, a way to keep hidden from those who don’t live here.”

“Why did they want to hide from everyone else?”

“Because they were world-weary, tired of all the troubles the world had, and grew a paradise away from it all, to live in.”

“That’s right, and they have people who guard it at night,” Isaac chimed. “People who keep hidden day and night on shifts to keep watch for anything intrusive. We call them Glade Foresters.”

“Cool!”

Yeah, pretty cool, huh?” Amber chimed.

“Um, do you guys help?”

The two of them smiled, and gladly gave an answer. “Yes. We do.”

“WOW!” This prompted his parents to giggle and smile.

“Uh, what do you do to help?”

Isaac ended the game of 20 questions by saying “Okay, that’s enough, Son. We’re getting to the seats now.”

The seats were brimming with people, all enthused over the event. They took their place with an older man, left of the aisle in the third row with a very view. A man in gray robes and with red cloth draping under the gray robe, seen just as it divided down from the waist. He wore sandals, hood over his head, and fingerless gloves. There were four others behind the platform on which he stood, humming and chanting. They were priests of Avo, the God of all that was and just in this world. At least, that’s what they said.

Suddenly, everything got quiet, and there were murmurs among the audience as the people came walking in pairs down the aisle to the platform. Some where people he knew and some he didn’t know, but looked similar to those he did know. Some of them sat down, and others stood and waited for women walking in pairs down the aisle, sitting down with the men, and the rest of the men sat down with them, except for one. They stood in wait for a man, Tsungani, walking down the aisle with a woman who was notably completely dressed in white with some clear-white cloth flowing from her dress. It was carried at the end by another woman. The woman in white was Jonatha. The man already at the platform, on the left side, was another of Dad’s friends. His name was Lel, and he began to smile at the two coming down, who took their place on the right side. Tsungani bowed, and took his place with the woman who held the trailing cloth. Then, the priests stopped humming, and the one at the platform removed his hood as well, and began to speak.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to day…” if he continued to speak, Kert didn’t hear, because he was focused on finding out what was going on.

“Mom, what are those people doing up there?”

“Yeah, Mom, what are they doing?” Amber chimed. Sometimes Mom got very tired of all the repetitive chiming.

“Sshh, whisper.”

“What are they doing?” he set his tone to a whisper.

“They’re getting married.”

“What’s that?”

“It means they’re undergoing the process of being recognized as together in a union holy and pleasing to Avo.”

“Mom, I know them!” Amber whispered excitedly. “That’s Lel and Jonatha!”

“Yes, it is. This is a very big moment for them. They love each other very much, so much that they’ll be getting married.”

Amber giggled with delight. She found this love thing between a man and a woman to be interesting. She had gotten into the romantic stuff around one year ago. Kert, however, was entranced by this moment. He was being introduced to this as new. The two of them seemed so happy to see each other, that it surprised him every time when they answered the priest when he talked to them. They seemed so spaced out when looking at each other, it seemed like a tangible application of souls dancing, intertwined. Despite his cramps and aches from sitting, he didn’t mind.

“Lel, do you take Jonatha to be your wedded wife?” asked the priest.

“I do,” answered Lel.

“Do you promise to love and cherish her, in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, for better for worse, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her, for so long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

“Jonatha, do you take Lel to be your wedded husband?”

“I do,” answered Jonatha.

“Do you together promise in the presence of your friends and family that you will at all times and in all circumstances, conduct yourselves toward one another as becomes Husband and Wife?”

“We do,” they answered.

Do you together promise you will love, cherish and respect one another throughout the years?”

“We do.”

The priest smiled, delighted by the sight of two willing to commit to a relationship mirroring a relationship with Avo in the best way possible.

“Now exchanging of the rings will take place.” As he spoke, the bride and groom began to pull out their rings and exchange them. “The ring is a circle, a symbol of eternity. That which Avo has put together, let no man tear asunder.” The two finished exchanging rings.

“Since you have signified your love by the exchanging of vows, and the exchanging of rings, I now pronounce you Husband and Wife. Lel, you may kiss the bride.

Lel grinned with his smooth, white teeth. “Gladly.”

“Ooh, that’s so sweet!” Amber giggled silently.

Jonatha smiled widely at his wit as he leaned in close, and he kissed her.

Kert and Amber covered their eyes. “Agh, Mom, you didn’t tell me they were gonna do THAT!” Kert yelled.

“Yeah, that’s gross!” Amber chimed.

They didn’t realize that they said those things out loud. Everyone looked in their direction, and laughed as they cheered for the married couple. Even his parents smiled with humor. Dad chuckled, and five seconds after they had put their lips together did Lel and Jonatha release their oral grip. They left the ceremony in an orderly fashion, which Kert didn’t understand. Why does everything have to have an order? Can’t we just get up and walk off? It was to keep people from being rude and pushy, they said. Yeah, right. That’s something they have to teach children, not adults. And from the look of it, Amber didn’t have to be taught the importance of “order” either. Apparently it was true that women mature faster than men. Pffft, maturity, what is that? He didn’t care about that.

In any case, they attended reception around 2:30 in the afternoon. There was pork roast, chicken, assorted fruits and vegetables. There were Chocolates that made a grown man stare and drool. Egg shaped chocolates, vanilla cake, fruit cakes, and a clear, jiggling substance that tasted like fruity water that had turned into the texture through and through of which was formed on the top of pudding. Pudding skin was what they called that. Kert had a hard time figuring out what else the men drooled at, but decided not to distract himself with so much food in front of him. Mom kept by him, telling him how much to put on his plate, making him put food back. He resisted for a bit, but Amber seemed to understand quicker in this situation as well. Stupid maturity, he thought. To drink, there was lemonade, water, milk, and a red, thin liquid. Mom wouldn’t let Kert or Amber have any, saying that it wasn’t for children. They wished to be adults, though- later, everyone who drank it seemed like they were having such a fun time, and were the center of attention at any table.

Pretty soon, the two of them were unable to eat any more, and neither was Dad. Kert couldn’t tell with Mom. When they left, they all stood for a toast, and some person talked and dedicated their words to talking about how they hoped the new couple had a wonderful marriage. Later, at night, Dad tucked the children in and went to bed. Mom read a bedtime story, and as Kert and Amber went to sleep, they heard noises.

“Snot Snogger, what are those noises?”

“Um, I don’t know. They’re coming from Mom and Dad’s room.”

“What’s going on?”

Amber thought for a minute. “I know, they must be acting out a bedtime story to go to sleep,” she concluded.

“Wow, I wish we could do that whenever we got a bedtime story.”

“We should ask about it some time.”

“night, Snot Snogger.”

“Nighty-night, Nutter.”

Chapter Three: Now Arriving in Hell>>

> >

There is no greater sorrow than to recall happiness in times of misery.

-Dante’s Alighieri, 1265-1321

> >

3:33>>

Sunburn Glade>>

Kert awoke with a start. He looked around, and saw an orange-yellow glow from outside his window. That can’t be the sun. The light is too close. It was also coming from multiple sources on the ground. Fear nearly scathed his soul with a hot fire poker.

“Amber, wake up!”

“Huh?” Nutter, it’s the middle of the-” then she saw the light, too. “Kert, it’s warm. Too warm. What’s going on?”

“Your guess is as as mine, Amber.”

They ran to Mom and Dad’s room; they were gone. Their bed sheets were in disarray. They looked at the clock on their wall: 3:34. While they may have seen this before, it became suddenly worrisome with the smell of smoke and the glow that they now associated with fire. They ran downstairs, almost tripping over one another. They went to the door that was the entrance to the house. Amber touched the wood, and it felt warm. Kert reached to turn the handle, and pulled back, nearly burning himself. He ran to grab a mitt, and looked at Amber with for the o.k. signal. She nodded. He regained his dare, and turned the handle while pushing the door open in one motion, thrusting himself and Amber outside.

They stood still as surprise and horror breached his mind like a battering ram. Furry monsters surrounded the village. They looked like dog-humans that could walk upright, eyes glowing yellow. They retained the length of human body parts, but their fur and bone structure were doggish. There was blood on their teeth, and the thirst in their eyes. Red spots covered the demon-brown fur in the front of their bodies. Kert and Amber were frozen stiff. Bodies on the ground were horribly mauled. Some of the buildings were burning, and some already burned, leaving behind skeletal structures. Kert smelled something gross in his pants, and Amber smelled it too, immediately grossed out. But this was absolutely no time for a joke. The situation made even that sobering. Kert wanted to run, Amber to scream for help, but then he noticed it- the nightmare beasts didn’t seem to notice him, or care for that matter.

“Amber, I don’t think they notice us…”

“Huh?” She looked again, and saw that he was right.

She suddenly noticed a glow coming from a direction that would not have allowed it to pierce through their window. It was back behind the hill from their current position. She suddenly grew afraid for the safety of anyone who might be alive, and ran for the light, not throwing away the idea of hiding or running.
“Wha, Amber, wait for me!” Kert started off, right behind her.

As Amber poked her head above the platform left from the day before(it had a crack broken roughly right through the middle), she saw a blur of fighting near the bottom, near the picnic area. The nightmare creatures were jumping(quite high and accurately still, need be noted), bounding and clawing and biting at two figures, which were stopping them flat whenever they were attacked. The beasts fell to loud blasts and the crushing of a giant war hammer. She knew what the war hammer was; she had seen one in their father’s room before, but she couldn’t figure out what the loud noises were coming from.

“Kert, look!” she whispered, almost hoarsely.

He looked, and he saw what she saw. Then, suddenly, the truth grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him violently- That was Dad down there! And the thing Mom said made loud noises when it was shot from, it was down there, and she was using it!

“Sis, that’s mom down there!”

Strange, they had said that those weapons were collector’s items, but here they are, using them! And, with strange efficiency, too… Dad was dealing blows to the monsters’ chests that were so hard, it nearly flattened the creatures he struck! Mom was shooting off body parts, blowing off heads, dodging clawing and biting, sometimes in the nick of time, even that didn’t look like luck. They were frightened, and yet, entertained. This was- cool! Suddenly, Kert noticed a giant figure floating overhead. He pointed for Amber. It was a man with white hair. White sideburns scathed both sides of his face, and his hair, including the bangs, flowed away from the front to hang from the back of his head or the side of his face, with eyes filled with a bright, glowing blue. His whole body glowed with blue patterns. His legs only were covered, but even then, light shined from the openings of the elegant gray pant legs, and the pants themselves glowed from the luminous patterns beneath.

“Dad! Mom! Up here!” cried Kert.

“Kert!” Scolded Amber, but it was too late. Everyone had suddenly taken notice of the children.

“What!? Kert, Amber, no!”

Dad was alerting them, while Mom nodded, and she jerked her head in the direction she obviously wanted them to go. But this was not the will of the man in the air. He glided down at the boy, and took him up in his embrace, Kert fighting him all the while. Two strange men in combat armor came up behind Amber, and took hold of her arms and body. She kicked and screamed.

“Now you stop that, children, or I shall erase you from the face of this earth,” he said.

“Get off me, you mound of mouse poop!” Kert yelled.

“You buttmunchers get your hands off me, I’m a lady!” Amber screamed.

“Come now, do you know how much power I have!? How ‘bout I let you know?”

Suddenly, Kert and Amber stopped struggling. There was a feeling in their bones, something that felt so powerful, enough so to break them each in two. It wasn’t doing anything, but simply the fact that it was there was enough to cease their resistance.

“, now you know,” said the man.

“Mariano, you ***-***! GET YOUR INCEST RIDDEN HANDS OFF MY SON!!!” Surprisingly enough, this came from Mom. She’d never said those words before. Heck, Kert remembered a time when he now thought he almost heard one of those words before his ears were covered up. She shot at the man in the sky, but the bullet was stopped just as it hit his forehead.

“Now there, is that any way to talk to the one who has your children’s’ lives on his hands?”

“You self-soiled dog, let go of my boy!”

“Maybe I might. That is, if you decide to come with me. If you don’t, I could care less about what happens to your children. You come with me, and I’ll leave your children here, alone and unharmed. I’ll also leave the balverines here, to eat them if you disobey or do anything I might not like, but only until I get you to your cells.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to us, you maggot-ridden bag of pus!”

“Believe it or not, Isaac Bellmore, I am going to burn your son alive if I even so much as hear one more insult from either of you!”

“AARRGHH!!”>>

“Honey, calm down. He’s serious.” A look of submission did a fourth-rate job of washing her face of the anger he saw in her eyes before. Isaac’s body relaxed, but his face didn’t.

“That’s a boy,” Mariano said, indulging his mind of all pride over their parents’ submission. “Now, let’s go down to the entrance and say our byes, shall we?”

Isaac and Edna walked toward the entrance, following Mariano and his goons with distressed looks on their faces as they watched Kert, staring around in surprise, and looked between him and Amber, giving them the same expression on her face. They followed him out of the entrance and into the forest, where there was a wagon and horse. The wagon had no covering, but was instead covered by metal bars inlaid with strange orange-yellow glowing jewels. A servant sat atop the driver seat.

“In you go now,” Mariano smirked.

Kert’s parents obeyed. They stepped in. The floor of the wagon was padded, and there were pillows, but it did nothing to comfort them from the cage they were in.

“I will place the children back inside your home, and place magical barriers around the house. These barriers will be in effect until I release the flow of magic, particularly when we get you to your cages. It’s alright, don’t worry that your children will starve. This won’t take more than five hours.”

With that, he got on the ground and pulled up a cover from one side and slid it over the top, leaving it with a flat, rectangular look. He and his slaver assistant tied down the cover completely, and poked air holes in the canvas so the occupants could breathe.

Dad spoke up. “Son, listen to me. You have the power in you. Don’t give up, and don’t lose faith!”

Mariano took Kert to his room. The guards let Amber walk to the house, guns drawn on her. She obeyed, and they locked her in the house. When she ran to her room, she saw Mariano floating outside the window and muttering something under his breath while looking in a book. Suddenly, the space in the window seemed to be flowing, like the mirage trick seen from fire as invisible gasses floated to distort the image one saw when looking through them.

“This seal covers the entire house, so don’t get any ideas.” Then he whispered, “I’ll be back for you two, so abandon your hope now while you can.”

Kert and Amber yelled and screamed at Mariano, calling him butt munch, butt nutter, snot snogger, brain farter, butt snogger, among other childish name calling, but to no avail. He heard the slaver stagecoach crack his whip, and the last they heard of their parents’ presence was the rolling of the wagon cart.

Their father told them to be comforted and not to be scared. How in Avo’s name were they supposed to get out? If they got out, what could they do? They had been exposed to so much hurt and turmoil that was common to the world, and were also just learning about it. They felt as if the world had gone to Skorm’s Eternity. Kert felt bitter towards his parents for not saying anything of these s, and both felt angrier still at the one who took their family away. Amber cried herself to sleep, and Kert, looking down over her, kissed her cheek, and went to his own rickety bed. He tired, angry, and horrified to boot. He wasn’t scared, and got to sleep quickly. In their minds, the bad people had won.

Chapter Four: Anger and Awakening>>

> >

“One man with courage is a majority.”
-Thomas Jefferson, 1743-1826

> >

5:55>>

Sunburn Glade>>

It had been 2 hours since Kert went to sleep. He struggled to keep sleeping, but gave up. It was just too hard to do with all that’s been happening. His parents had always seemed heroic to him, but now, he knew they fought and defeated things. things, people… None of this about monsters and ill-intentioned people had seemed real to him, and here he was in the midst of it. Monsters, or balverines, in the village, the village getting burned, bodies charred just to the brink familiarity, blood among other things outside the body when they shouldn’t be, his parents taken away from him, is sister crying, and soon they’ll come for them… He was surprised he hadn’t emptied his stomach up the wrong side yet. Oh, wait… Oh Avo help me, here it comes.

He rushed for the bathroom, giving his sister a rude awakening. He tried to get to the toilet, but he couldn’t make it in time. Instead, he feverishly dumped his mostly digested food in the sink. Ugh, he thought. How could things possibly get any worse? He turned on the faucet, trying to poor all the puke down the sink.

“Kert, what are you…?” She saw the puke. “Eww, gross.”

“Amber, could you get some cinnamon sticks from downstairs? I want to get rid of this smell.”

“Gladly,” she said. She ran downstairs to get the little rods of strong cinnamon smell, when she heard a knock at the door. Oh no! He’s back, she thought, as she grabbed the sticks and tossed them up the stairs. Just as she was hollering up the steps to Kert about the sticks being on the floor, she heard a familiar voice outside.

“Kert! Amber! You two in there?”

“Mr. Kodel? Is that you?”

“Amber! Glad to know you’re still alive and safe! Where’s Kert?”

“He’s in the bathroom. He threw up yesterday’s supper,” She answered.

“Oh. Well, stay in there, hear? We’ll clean this mess up, just you be careful in there. We wouldn’t want to come in there to find you were harmed by anything that might be in there you that we didn’t know about.”

Amber froze. Anything else? In here? Great, now what? There might be a beast in here that didn’t know or didn’t care about them in there. Still, she had to go on a little hunt. She grabbed a long kitchen knife and set off around the house. As she was entering the living room on the first floor, she heard loud blasts, and otherworldly squalls and roars that sent shivers up her spine. She didn’t know why she was looking for something that was bound to be more than a match for her. Maybe it was vengeance, or an anger or guilt that sent her on a path of destruction. She didn’t know, she was just obeying the call.

Kert finished washing his guts down the drain, and set up the sticks to cover the stink. He held one up to his nose as well, to relieve himself. Then, as soon as he had left, he found himself face-to-face with one of the monsters, the balverines. It didn’t care that he was there. Oh, he could see the blood-thirst in its eyes, which it wanted to chew through his sweet flesh, but something kept it at bay. Something was controlling it. He could hear his sister going around the bottom floor, making her way back to the stairs opposite the side of them that she had left them. She looked up, saw the balverine, and tripped on the stairs trying to reach it.

“Sis!” Kert ran to her side, to help her up. She gladly accepted, and then started right back to attacking the beast. Slowly, she got up the steps, staring the beast in its fully glowing yellow eyes with the same blood-thirst as evident on its face. She raised the blade, ready to strike, and stabbed it in the chest. It howled in pain as she struck again and again, watching the mysterious dark red liquid splatter the floor, as well as the clothes she slept in.

“SIS!” He hadn’t seen his sister like this before. Something seemed to change in her tonight; there was a taste for revenge that he felt emanating from her, while his own change felt like a wave of sorrow. He hated tonight. It was like a mean psychopath shoving them into a dark room full of insects of prey and laughing hysterically, saying, “Welcome to the real world, kiddies.” That’s exactly the point. He wasn’t ready for this reality yet. He felt too young.

Slowly, the gunfire ceased. Silence. Then, a knock came at the door.

“Hey, are you two still alright in there? We’ve taken care of everything else out here other than in your house.”

He needed to know. “Mr. Kodel, there’s a magic seal on the house,” Amber said through the door. “We can’t get out.”

“What? ‘Course there isn’t. You have to believe me, I don’t see a seal.”

“But Graham, I saw it through the window,” said Kert.

“Come on now, children,” Graham pleaded. “I know you see a barrier, but you parents said they saw real promise in you two. You can remove the seal, you just have to believe!”

They just have to believe? Amber and Kert looked at one another. They didn’t know what Mr. Kodel was talking about, but they knew about the strange things that happened around them, the things that everyone seemed to ignore. Amber drew close to her brother, and, squeezing his hand, they tried to believe that there was no barrier.

“There is no barrier,” Kert said.

“It’s an ilillushun,” said Amber.

Kert, in determination, let go of Amber’s hand. He ran upstairs, entered his room and looked at the window. The distorted view of outside had not changed. He shouted in a rage, and ran at the window. Amber shouted at him to stop, but he was going to put himself through that window, one way or another.

Then, when he reached the window, and attempted to jump, the barrier held no resistance! In fact, Amber saw the barrier slowly disappear! Then she heard a loud thump outside. She leaned out the window to see her brother sprawled out on the grass below. She raced out of the room, and downstairs.

“Mr. Kodel, Mr. Kodel! Kert jumped out the window!”

“Oh, that’s ! Someone go get the boy to his feet!” Someone responded to volunteer.

“But what’s preventing you from coming out?”

“I can’t, it’s locked!” she explained.

“Locked, huh? Well, we’ll see what we can do about that, right boys?”

“Yeah!” came the manly cries of stalwart lumberjacks. From what she heard the men were obviously throwing themselves against the door, feet, fists and all. Amidst the loud thumping, Amber heard a crack, and then more cracks, and the appearance of splintered wood in the door followed. It stopped for a while. Then a crash sounded, loud enough to make Amber run for cover. She leaned over the kitchen counter, and another crash, sounding louder than the first, put a giant tree stump through the wood of the door, impaling it. She came around the counter to see the stump, and realized it was a giant log. The tree branches had obviously recently been stripped off. The log was removed, and she could see through the door as a few men came at it with axes, chopping away. As the hole in the door got bigger and bigger, the door turned into nothing but a frame on hinges. When the chopping stopped, Amber ran out, tossing her head in every which way to find Mr. Kodel, and hurled herself at his legs, hugging ever so tightly.

“There, there, child. Everything’s going to be all right.”
“What about Mom, and Dad?” She gasped. “What about Kert!?”

“Kert will be fine, as would you have if you yourself had jumped out the window.”

“Huh? Really!? But, how?”

“There’s a lot we’ll have to tell you children. Many truths, but, it’s not safe to talk here. We’ll have to take you to one of the settlements east of here.”

Kert came walking with one of the townspeople. Amber rushed over to him and hugged him, letting the air out of him.

“You JERK! Don’t ever do that again!” She lessened her grip. “You scared me to death.”

“I’m sorry, sis…”

“Well it’s all right now,” Graham said. “We’ve got to get moving, before that lunatic comes back for you. He might even bring more of those nasty balverines.”

Chapter Five: Apprentices Fit for a King>>

> >

“It is not easy to steal where the landlord is a thief”

-Irish sayings

> >

5:01>>

Witchwood, Northern Road…>>

It was two days’ time since Kert and Amber got on the wagon to this next settlement, and they’d been talking to Graham about what their parents had kept from them all this time. Kert looked back to their conversation, which was still fresh in his mind.

> >

His eyes widened at the words of Graham.

“Wow! I’m… a HERO!? From the old stories!?”

Amber was just as caught up in this revelation. “That’s amazing Mr. Kodel-”

Someone else was driving at the time, as Graham needed to focus on explaining to the little ones.

“Yes, and it explains why you never got injured falling from heights that would break two or more bones in any other person. Heroes have more durable bodily forms, and can survive dizzying heights, at least without dying. Oh, and please, just call me Graham. I can’t stand this “Mister” business any second longer. But that’s only a half truth. The technicality is that you are the children of Heroes. You’re Heroes in lineage only. But you aren’t real, fighting Heroes; however, there is great potential in you, and if trained, becoming Heroes is your fate.”

“Whoa.” Kert was still wowed.

“I’m confused, Mister- I mean, Graham. Why did Mom and Dad hide this from us? Why didn’t she tell us that they defended the town from balverines?”

“Ah yes, they did want to protect your innocence, and live a life away from this pain and . But, it seemed that it was inevitable. They wanted to keep you hidden and unsuspecting, so their enemies wouldn’t find you- and for a while, the enemies hadn’t found your parents, either. They started the village farther back in time before the elders. Back then the elders were around their middle age years. Your mother and father planted seeds to grow around a large hill, with plenty of space for village growth. If the village out grew its boundaries, your parents simply planted more trees. This was speeded by your mother’s personal, gifted ability to speed up plant growth.”

“Wow!” the children exclaimed.

“Yes, and it was magnificent to watch the things grow to nearly the size of a tower right before my very eyes. But in that lay a problem. Once, not long ago, someone saw it them grow! Since then, your parents were have been on their toes at night, and from what they told us about the enemies that could invade, we had more to worry about more than balverines. We were afraid of someone who could control them. We were worried in fear of a… a Will Master!”

“Huh? You mean that guy glowing all over, in the sky?” Amber clarified.

“Yep, that was him.”>>

“But… Graham, how did you and the rest get out?”

“Truth be told, we were lucky,” he replied. A look of dread and sorrow manifested itself on his eyebrows, the halfway position if his eyelids, his quivering chin. “We were surprised by the enemy. He burned down the trees around the entrance, and commanded the balverines to go in and kill anything that resisted. He started burning houses! He entered my home, and found my brother first. He asked him where Isaac and Edna were, but he didn’t say anything. Then he- he-” Graham was in tears. “He tortured him! Oh, my poor brother… He didn’t say anything, just scream as that monster hurt him. I won’t even say the things he did! He was about to burn our house and us in it, when your parents left theirs, unburned, to face him and the balverines.

The children sat and stared at him. They didn’t know what to do, this was a grown-up crying! They had never seen a grown man cry before, or show their fear. They knew that grown-ups felt sadness and fear, this much they understood, but they’d never really seen a grown man crying or shaking with fear. Amber couldn’t take the sight any longer. She huddled up next to him, and embraced him with a hug as comforting as she could possibly make it. Kert, startled, by this, gave it some thought, and decided to do the same. He went ‘round behind Graham, and put his arms on his shoulders, reaching his hands over the other side, touching either hand as they were placed across the trembling man’s chest.

“If only you were Heroes, then you could-” He stopped himself in mid-sentence. They were still children, they couldn’t take this task upon them now. “You must be trained, and then you will discover the power inside of you.”

“Will you train us, Graham?”

Graham, taken by sadness, welcomed the comfort. He put one arm around Amber, to show he accepted her comfort, while holding Kert’s hands with the other. It seemed to calm him. They sat there together for nearly a minute. Graham Kodel was their close, non-father friend, And at least they had some family that was still close by. But this they felt in their hearts, that they would find their parents again, and have retribution for the one who took them.

“No, I can’t. I am no Hero, or a teacher for that matter. No, we will find someone to train you.”

> >

Kert snapped away from his rebounding memories. He looked over at Graham, who was driving now, and began to wonder where they were going. As he was about to open his mouth, his twin beat him to it.

“Where are we going, Graham?”

“There’s a band of thieves nearby. The entrance is hard to see, since they always put a giant rock over it, but we’ll be getting to our destination soon.”

Thieves? Why were they pairing up with thieves? This didn’t seem logical to either of the children.

The wagon stopped at the edge of a forest. There was no beaten path.

Graham began talking to the group. “Alright, everyone! Get off the wagon, and onto the sand. Don’t leave the sand unless I say so.” As everyone stepped out, he added, “There will be no return journey, folks. Gilmore, Malise, take the cart back with our Foresters, and return on foot. Keep yourselves armed with silver.”

“Yes, Graham,” answered Gilmore and Malise.

“The rest of you, follow my lead. Children, you stick close, now.”

The team of survivors made their way around the forest area, getting sand and water on their feet. They were lead along the side of a cliff near the forest, and moved further into a crevice. At the end of the crevice was a waterfall, which had endlessly trickled over the edge of the rock to carve a straight path. As they neared it, They came across two men dressed in dark, skin-tight clothing, wearing black masks that covered their heads, eyes and noses, tied up in the back. They were guarding the end of the path.

One was straight-faced, with smile lines on his cheeks. The other one looked younger, with no lines. However, his eyes told all of his combat hardened mind, as well a his upsetting attitude at the sight of strangers.

“How dare you trespass here!” the latter spoke first, with a sharp and articulate voice, pronouncing every syllable possible. “If you are not one of our own, you have two choices: come with us, and you will be our prisoners. If not, we will unleash the furry of a thousand men upon you!”

“Relax, gentlemen. Edna and Isaac send their regards.”

“Welcome, friend,” said the former, his own voice just as articulate as the other’s, yet with a quality of soft kindness in them. “You may pass. Who are the rest of these you have brought with you?”

“They are citizens from the village. They need refuge.”

Angry-Face spoke again. “We have never seen some of these people, nor welcomed them before. We will have to have them questioned by the one who sent us.”

“Very well,” Graham consented. “And the children, too?”

“Yes,” said Angry-Face. “The children, too.”

“WHAT?” exclaimed Kert. “But Mom an-”

“That’s enough, Kert!” Graham silenced Kert.

“Do not worry, boy,” said Happy-Face. “We will not harm you. You will be questioned, nothing more. The one who sent us will see the purity of your minds.”

“Yes,” said Angry-Face. “No matter who you are or what age you are, we require that the one who sent us examine you.”

With that, he set his hands on a giant boulder at the end, and moved aside. In its place was a giant hole with a tall ladder leading down. The two guards stepped aside, watching all of the villagers closely as they all clambered down inside the hole.

Angry-Face left with them, and, when they finally reached the bottom floor, exchanged posts with the man who greeted them below. Happy-Face and the man who switched to guarding the outside shut the boulder over the hole, leaving them in down inside. It was moist inside the hollowed tunnel of rock, with torches on the walls, lighting the path from either side.

“Great to see you again, Graham!” said Happy-Face.

“You too, Axel,” replied Graham.

“Hey, why was that man angry?” asked Kert.

“I’m sorry, children, but you must understand, Alastair is a man. He was only doing his duty as a guard. He wasn’t angry.” Axel reached for a torch, and began to guide everyone through the elaborate tunnels. “He was only using his best effort to fulfill his duty of protecting this secret underground refuge. He would give his life to protect the secret of the waterfall.”

As they wound their way through the tunnels, they met and received stares and smiles from many highwaymen, all wearing the same clothing as the first three. Some, immediately upon seeing the crowd, began to follow. They didn’t change their facial expression in a smile or a stare, but kept following them.

Seeing the alarm on the children’s faces, Graham gave them reassuring looks.

“It’s all right, children. These men are here to make sure that we don’t try anything funny.”

“How do we know these guys, Graham?” asked Amber. “I mean, this whole place.” She’d never seen any of these people before.

“These people are our supporters in our times of economic crisis,” explained Graham. “The leader here knew your mother very well, so he agreed to send help whenever called upon.”

“Graham? If these people are hiding down here, how do they stay alive?” Kert was right. These people had to leave their home sometime.

“That’s the controversial part, Kert. These people are highwaymen.”
Amber only heard the term once or twice throughout town. “What’s a highwaymen?”

“A highwayman,” Graham corrected, “is a person who makes a living by stealing from people who wander the roads, threatening them with death if they don’t hand over money.”

“WHAT!?” Kert never heard of guys getting support from bad guys. “Why are we getting help from bad guys?”

“I told you it was controversial. You see, These people rob the rich, such as tax collectors, lords, nobles, and so forth. Some would say it is righteous to rob those who take what is not rightfully theirs, and others say it is wrong to steal altogether. With this in mind, we accepted their help, and kept it anonymous, and maintained an arm’s length relationship with them, accepting help only when we needed it.”

“But you and that Axel guy are friends!” cried Amber.

“Amber, we can’t be true enemies with people just because of some controversy. Besides, I believe what they do is righteous, so long as they rob those who obtain their riches the wrong way.”

“But they can’t just go up to any rich guy on the road, and take their stuff!”

“Very true.” It was Axel’s turn to speak. “Believe it or not, but we have spies who keep tabs on all the ill-gotten things that all the rich people take. Tax collectors may demand too much money, and sometimes, lords and ladies sentence fines for far more than the crime deserves.”

“Oh. So, that way, you know how much you can take?” asked Kert.

“Indeed.”

That made the children think for a bit. Kert certainly saw no problem with it, but Amber on the other hand had a hard time weighing the pros and cons, trying to figure out what her stand was. Finally, she gave up. She didn’t see any problem, but it was still wrong to her. She decided to let it be. As they made up their minds, they neared an opening at the end of a tunnel, and entered a room that was round with a wide surface area. The walls surrounding had counters that matched the shape of the room, forming a half circle that was broken in symmetrical places. Lighting came from a massive, triangular, jewel-shaped lamp from above.

There were with seats behind them, and in these seats were highwaymen, without their masks on. Instead, they had hoods over their faces. In the far corner of the room, the side without counters, was a chair with a tall back that spiked at the top. A man with the same clothing as the highwaymen(including the mask) sat at the throne with a crown inlaid with orange and blue jewels sat atop his head. The orange ones were huge, and near the top of the spiking parts of the crown, while the blue jewels were smaller, sitting near the orange jewels. The red jewels were the smallest, lining the base of the crown. Its wearer motioned to one of the highwaymen standing at each of the four entrances spaced around the room in diagonal fashion, and he left immediately.

Axel gave the crowd some directions. “All of you, move to the center of the room and line up. All who are wearing the Glade Forester outfits may leave to the commons room.” With that, he bowed and addressed the man on the chair. “My King, these men are here to stand before you. They are ready to be questioned, whenever you are ready to begin.”

“Thank you. Your King is pleased with his servant.” He spoke articulately, just like the rest of the highwaymen, but his voice was deep, and there was something powerful about it, something… royal. Then, addressing the crowd, he said, “All of you, arrange yourselves from oldest to youngest, and I shall question you all, one at a time.”

The people did so, with some trouble trying to figure out who was older than the other. Any twins were told to stand as a pair. However, they accomplished the feat, and the highwayman guard that had been sent away came back with what looked like the podium at which one stood trial. As individual people stood in it, the King began quizzing them with questions like “Have you ever heard of this secret place before?” and “State all your wants, desires, needs, and tasks of any kind given to you relating to this place.” As he got to Graham, he simply nodded his approval, and Graham took his place with the children. Other children required their parents or some guardian or grown-up friend to stand by them. They needed help keep their stress low, and assurance that they hadn’t done anything wrong. All of the villagers so far had passed and were allowed to the commons room. It was Kert and Amber’s turn now. They stood before the majestic, black-dressed man, growing nervous.

“Don’t be nervous, children,” said the King. He had to say that to every child that met him, since they all got a bit scared standing at the center of attention, as well as being in the presence of one given highest authority.

“It’s all right, children,” assured Graham. “He just wants to know why you’re here and what your true intent is. Just address him as King, and speak to him only when he speaks to you.”

“Little boy, who are you, and why have you come to this place?”

“I’m… Kert Bell- Kert lace>Bellmorelace>. I’ve come to seek refuge with the rest of my village… oh King.”

“And have you ever even heard of this place until tonight?”

“No, my King.”

“And are your tasks, as wants, needs, or favors or requests being done by others related to this place?”

“Uh, what?”

“Kert, he means you to state anything else you came here for, or if someone sent you.”

“Oh! Graham took me here, King, to, ah…

“What is it, boy? Do go on.”

“I… I WANT TO BE A HERO!”

The room grew silent. Everyone in the room, the hooded highwaymen and the children, stared at him. The highwaymen who stood there as guards glanced over for a second and returned to their alertness, however still looking aghast at what the boy had just said. Their King’s solemn expression grew ever more so, and his head remained in the down-turned tilt it had been in while looking at the child. He sat silent for a moment, and then turned his gaze toward Amber.

“Stay where you are for the moment, Kert Bellmore. Now, little girl, what is your name, and why have you come to this place?”

“My name is Amber Bellmore, oh King, and I am here for the same reasons as my brother.”

The King raised his right eyebrow. He then grinned slightly, and there was a tinge of amusement. It seemed to make the light reflecting off it stand out more.

“You are the twin children of Edna and Isaac Bellmore, correct?”

“Yes, oh King,” Amber answered.

“We are,” Kert chimed. They both thought they felt some kind of presence touch each of their minds, and then quickly withdraw.

“So it is true,” the King replied. It seemed for a moment his voice quivered slightly. Almost as quickly, he regained himself. “I’ve heard a great deal about the two of you, from your parents. Your mother and I used to be close friends.”

The children kept silent.

“What happened to your mother and father?”

“They were…” Amber turned away. Kert looked down, despaired.

“If you don’t want to talk, I won’t ask you. Graham, what can you tell me?”

“They are under a great deal of stress, my King,” Graham explained. “Their village was attacked by balverines, and buildings were burned. So was the entrance to Sunburn Glade. Last but not least, their parents were captured.”

“Captured!? Who in lace>Albionlace> could…”

“It was all perpetrated by… Him.”
“Oh… Mariano,” said the King. His lips curled into a silent snarl.

“Yes, it was him.”

The King sat in silence for around half a minute, which seemed like ten half minutes to the children.

“Very well. If you like, we shall begin training tomorrow. But know this, children: this is arduous, that is to say, difficult training. If you are to become what you seek to be, you must have the patience of a turtle, the diligence of an ant, and an eager attitude for learning as a dog is to please its master. Without hard patience, practice, and a Will, you will learn nothing. Understand?”

They did.

“. Now, you may join the rest of the survivors in the commons room. Supper will be at 6:30, and bedtime at 9:30. Training begins at 7:30 in the morning, and I will wait for you at the highwayman training grounds. Yes, I will be your tutor and your instructor.

“I will have an assistant give a bell to each of you when you are ready to go to bed. This bell is to be used to ask for their assistance in case you are lost. Now listen closely to these next few words, for I will pronounce them as clearly and loudly as I can, and I do not expect to say them again. Unless you or someone else is in danger of harm, unless you have dire news for the assistant or me, you may never use the bell for anything else. If you disobey this rule, there will be minor consequences. Have I made myself perfectly clear to the two of you?”

“Yes,” Amber said. Kert nodded.

“That is very . You are dismissed to the commons room.”

Chapter Six: Training and Discipline>>

> >

“Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.”>>

Benjamin Franklin, 1706-1790>>

> >

6:35, morning>>

location unknown…>>

Kert awoke early in the morning. He was awake on a mat in one of the sleeping halls, the west hall, in particular. He gathered some clothing that Graham allowed him to take. Remembering the bell, and the instructions from earlier, he rung it. In less than half a minute, he heard the hurried footsteps of the highwayman who gave it to him. The man appeared with a straight face and a readiness to serve.>>

“Are you ready for your bath, young master?” he asked.>>

“What? Uh, yeah, I guess,” Kert replied. This was the first time he was called “master”, and also the first time he was asked if he wanted a bath. He usually wouldn’t take one if he could get the chance, but this time seemed different. He felt like he had to take a bath to be presentable to the King.>>

“ that you want one. You stink like balverine sweat,” the man critiqued sharply. “Anyway, follow me. I will take you to the men’s bathing pool.”>>

He turned on his way, and led Kert through the left tunnel at the north end of the sleeping hall, which took them to a room full of bathing villagers. Oiled lamplights hung from the ceiling.>>

“Here we are, young master, the bathing pool. I will be standing watch at the stone door you see at the far side. That is were the highwaymen bathe, and it is guarded to protect their identity. Guards stand not only on the outside, but on the inside as well. Should you try to intrude upon them, whether by ignorance or not, I and the other men will not hesitate to subdue you. Do be careful not to dive, for the bottom of the pool is solid rock.”>>

“Okay, I got it.”>>

The highwayman promptly walked over to the door, which was guarded by near five or six others. He followed the humidity in the room to the area where people removed their clothing to wade. As he neared it, he removed his clothing and left the edge of solid rock to step into the water. It was strangely warm, and he when he touched the rock at the bottom, he noted that it was smooth. The highwaymen had obviously done their fair share of work building this place. Once he was finished, he stepped out of the pool and dried himself with one of the many guest towels lining the carved-in shelves. Putting his clean set of clothing on, he noticed a highwayman standing by him.>>

“I take it you are finished bathing?” he asked.>>

“I am.”>>

“Very well. I think it would be best to take you to the dining hall now. Breakfast will be served in 13 minutes.” He was going off the clock on the wall.>>

“Yes, thank you.”>>

“Follow me.”>>

The humble servant lead him out of the bathing room, out of the sleeping hall and through a tunnel to the south. It winded east, and moving through the commons room(which was, if looking one looked at the map of the place, just north of the King’s throne room, to between which there was no entrance), the highwayman lead him further north, through the next tunnel. It lead from the commons room to a great hall. There was so much surface area that the enormous room required pillars of stone left standing to keep up the rock ceiling above. >>

More lamplights hung from the ceilng, casting an eerie glow that said “this place is a place of quiet,” but in stark contrast, there was a noisy crowd, all waiting for the span of 8 minutes to pass by, and then grab the food that would be set before them.>>

“Ring when you are ready to go to the training grounds. Our King will be there waiting for you.”>>

> >

Amber got up from her mat, and, facing the clock on the opposite side of the sleeping hall, read “7:04”. She jumped out off the mat, rang the bell, and began to gather clean clothes. Her assistant came in not a moment later.>>

“So, I take it you’re ready for your bath, then?”>>

“Oh, yes,” Amber said.>>

“All right, come with me.”>>

Amber, standing near her mat on the west side of the room, followed the highwaywoman to the tunnel on the right side, on the north end. They followed the tunnel to a room which had humid air, with many female villagers swimming, bathing, and otherwise enjoying themselves. The highwaywoman walked over and stood by a large, stone door to the left, accompanying five others.>>

“This is where the highwaywomen bathe,” she informed. “We can’t allow you in, or you might compromise the identities of those inside. You are to bathe in the pool you see to your right.”>>

“Okay.”>>

Amber walked over to the edge of the pool. She removed her clothing and stepped in. The water was warm, and the air was steamy. Her 8-year-old body cringed at the heat, but slowly welcomed it.>>

“Excuse me,” she asked politely, “But why is the pool warm? Wouldn’t it be cold down here?”
“It would be,” explained the highwaywoman, “if not for the machines invented by the ingenious of our King’s fellow will user, scientist and friend. He made the machines to run on lightning energy, and these contraptions are helping to hold up the structure of this floor, right below the pools. The will user says that since the machines are helping to hold up the rock beneath our feet, they are also triggering heat conduction to the rock, and the rock is transferring heat in direct contact with the water.”>>

“Cool! Is he still here?”>>

“Not now. He comes and goes every week or so to power the engine with enough lightning energy to continue running for the next seven days.”>>

Amber continued to bathe. She thought it was cool to know that the pool was heated magically. She had longed for a bath since the day after she left the village. To feel that warm, soothing water soaking on her skin and hair was a godsend in what were dark times for her. She finished bathing, put on her clean clothes and told her assistant that she was done. Her assistant nodded.
“If you would like some food, I can take you to the dining hall. Breakfast is currently being served.”>>

“Oh, yes, thank you!” Amber was eager for food, and since the mention of it, her stomach had been growling all the way to the hall. She was amazed at how brilliant the place was. Four food-laden tables on either side stretched to a length of ten yards. She couldn’t find her brother anywhere.>>

“Whenever you are finished, ring for me, and I shall take you to the training grounds. Our King will be waiting there for you, and he will be ready to start at 7:30.”>>

“All right,” Amber agreed, taking the bell that the highwaywoman offered.
She looked around, trying to find her brother. She walked along the first table on the far right, looking and asking for her twin brother, Kert. Nobody had seen him. She looked at the other seven tables, and it came to her: She would not find him in time to eat her own breakfast by searching each and every table. She looked around for a clock. 7:20. She grabbed a plate and some food from the end of the table, and stood eating, looking for her brother. Giving up, she closed her eyes, focusing on each bite she took, and thinking of her brother. He was out there. He was among the crowd somewhere, but she didn’t know where to look. Strangely enough she specifically imagined he was at the third table to the west, twenty-something seat on the north side.>>

Just then, she heard Kert shouting. Losing the image, she opened her eyes, searching for him. She found the table he was at and stood leaning against the pillar while eating, with no place to sit. They smiled at each other nervously. This first week, they were about to be introduced to something that felt entirely new to them: combat. Not just any combat, however. Not simple brawling and tearing and biting. They both felt that the other was inseparable from them, and they tried not to think of their captured parents. Too late.>>

> >

After they finished eating, they rang their bells, and the highwaymen came quickly. They escorted them both as quickly as they could within two minutes to the training grounds. They were through the second entrance to the right side of the fork in the tunnel first encountered from the ladder entrance to the entire underground. In the nick of time, the two were almost thrust into the hollowed room full of pillars. Torches lined the wall and pillars all around, leaving darkness hanging overhead. They saw many young apprentices being taught by their instructors, dummies getting hacked and stabbed at by wood and steel alike. They found their own instructor standing in the middle, four pillars surrounding him.>>

“Approach, young apprentices,” said the King. They did so. “Ah, such ready and able young bodies,” he continued. “Are you children ready for your first lesson?”
“Yes,” they answered.

“Wonderful. Now, follow me to the far corner.”

They followed him to a circular area surrounded by stone, with a gateless entrance. He ordered both of them into the ring. He ordered them to attack first with their fists. Amber did not make much of an impact, but Kert was punching holes that revealed the straw inside his dummy. To accommodate Amber’s need, the king gave them both beating rods fashioned from wood. They finally beat the living tar out of the dummies.>>

“Though anyone would readily rely upon their fists, fists are not capable weapons to any but those with the right training,” explained the king. Then, he got in the ring with them. He reached over the side of the fence for a stick and took a stance that said to the children, “I’m ready to fight”.

“Amber, I want you to attack me with your stick as hard as you can. Don’t hold back.”

She stared at him, and then looked at her stick. She walked up to the King and raised her stick over her head, swung forward, and hit his face with the end of her stick. He fell back, clutching his head, and then came back at the ready.

“Did you see that?” he asked. “She hit me, and I staggered. I also turned my focus to my head. Don’t worry, I’m alright. But something you should get from this is that whenever you fight, you shouldn’t attack continuously, hoping that you hit an unguarded spot. You have to block blows, make bold moves in combat, until you spot an opportunity to strike a blow you know without a shadow of doubt will not be blocked.”>>

He sat down, and told them to do so as well. “Let us put that aside for later today. Right now, we will focus on your use of magic.” Their expressions grew into a look of both surprise and elation. “But we are only going to find out what your innate abilities are,” he added.>>

“Innate abilities?” Kert repeated.>>

“Yes, Kert. Your mother has the innate ability to control plants with magic, which works as a powerful stimulus that yields nearly immediate results within the growth abilities of plants.”>>

“We know,” Amber replied. “But what about Dad? What’s his ability?”>>

“Your father,” he started, “Has the ability to make anyone believe any truth he creates for them in an instant. That was how Sunburn Glade stayed hidden. He can’t create these oral illusions to stand to the scrutiny of any will user, however, and he always kept a stash of bribe money, which came from me.”>>

“What’s your ability?”>>

“My ability?” he repeated. “My ability, dear one, is to see through the minds of others. If they aren’t telling the truth, I will know it.”

“But, why did you have the village line up and ask them questions?”

“I do that to create a false sense of security for any people intending harm on the Guild. Sometimes people find out about this place, and try to infiltrate it rather than storm in, guns blazing. I send deceivers off to the dining halls, where they are captured. The guards I have stationed there employ any means necessary to find out who told the person or persons of the Guild, if there are any others who know, and so on. Then, the person or persons are quickly subdued, and we send out a band of assassins to find the rest.”

“But enough about me,” The King said. “You must be wondering what your own abilities are.”

The children’s faces relit light lanterns. “It is simple to find out. Simply close your eyes-” they did this as he spoke- “and ease all tension in your mind. Stretch it out, and this way you will search for what your mind can get a hold of. At the moment, you will only see darkness and the things you can control, but the darkness will wear away with time and the use of your innate power. Now, without touching anything, Amber, what do you see?”>>

Amber saw many of the same thing- people. They were just standing in darkness, she explained.>>

“Try to go up and touch Kert with your mind.” The King had an idea of what this power was.>>

“I see him, I see where he is. He’s standing right next to me.”
The king signaled one of the mentors to pick Kert up and carry him away, to the entrance to the underground. The highwayman stepped silently.>>

“He moved!”
“Follow him, Amber!”>>

“He’s now at the ladder where we came in.”>>

The king went and got the mentor and Kert to come back.>>

“Amber you may open your eyes. I think you may have the ability to find the whereabouts of people you’ve seen before. Kert, without touching anything, what do you see?”>>

Kert saw little that he could control. All he saw was darkness. He rotated his sight, not his head- this felt strange to him. Finally, he saw it- a large square, with shimmering movements.>>

“I see a square. It’s moving, but it’s still where it is. It looks like water is moving over it,” he observed.>>

Amber looked at the king. He was sitting in silence, with an expression of awe, mouth slightly drawn open.>>

“Imagine it breaking,” he said, catching himself in his amazement.>>

“It’s shattered… It disappeared!” Kert exclaimed.>>

“Open your eyes! Well, now, isn’t this a surprise!” The king was still awestruck. “Kert, you have a rare and well sought-after ability. You can break magical barriers!”>>

Kert looked back at his experience with the window of his house. Since he wasn’t doing anything under the guidance of a mentor, the shattering of the barrier around his house seemed more like luck now. He had wondered if he’d really been the one who shattered the window.>>

“This is amazing. There was a barrier in this hideout that has been here since we moved in, and we’ve been trying to find whatever means we could to break it. Very few have this ability, Kert. So few, that the select who did sought to create a book that had could create and undo barriers when read aloud, and that all it took was a will user who understood the ancient text and read it in it’s original writing. Legend is written that the Jack-slayer used the book to break a powerful barrier in lace>laceName>HooklaceName> laceType>CoastlaceType>lace>, to try to get the Septimal Key.”>>

“Did he get the key?” Amber asked.>>

“It was to no avail. The key was taken by Jack of Blades, who was later defeated in the old Guild.”>>

“Wow! That’s a cool story, O King!” exclaimed Kert.>>

“‘Story’? No, this is no ‘story’. This really happened. That Hero’s bloodline is still around. One man in that line is alive today, and he made his own legend recently. It’s been three years since he brought about the Fall of the Spire. Hmm, I believe his innate ability was, ah… Never mind, you’re probably too young to hear of it.”>>

“Oh, we’re always too young to learn anything. Too young to do this, to young to say that-”>>

The king got a fiery gleam in his eye. “Remember who you’re talking to, son! I didn’t suffer a story time so you could complain about your level of maturity.”>>

Kert and Amber were taken aback. They’d never seen the King angry before.>>

“Now, there is something you need to know. Not many people take kindly to Heroes these days. You, your family and I were just lucky we could find people who would open up to our efforts to protect them. They only tolerate the existence of Heroes that can and will stand up for themselves in the face of aggression. Heroes are indeed nigh impossible to put down, by those who are not. If people knew of your presence here, if they knew of the presence of this guild, they would find you, and kill you and every highwayman they could, rescue the villagers when in fact they seek refuge here, and flee from me. So, when I say that I don’t want you even whispering to someone about the identity or whereabouts of any Hero, any Hero at all, I mean you to obey that command, for your sake just as much as the rest of the Highwaymen’s Guild. Have I made myself crystal clear?”>>

He did.>>

“All right, and that concludes training for this morning. You can train some more with each other if you want, or just go play with our young acolytes. Be here again at two in the afternoon, and we will continue combat training.”>>

“Thank you, O King.” Kert dismissed himself, as did Amber. Amber continued to train her ability, while Kert went to train and play with the highwaymen’s children. They had a long year ahead of them yet, and more to come, full of learning and repetition.>>

Sorrow, Vengeance, and Tears

Marcasite — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 21:00:54 GMT

First off, let me say thank you to those of you who followed my last couple of fan fics on this site. I wouldn't have kept writing them without you. Also, I feel compelled to warn the readers that this is a more adult oriented tale.

This story takes place after Sorrow's Lament.

To new readers, welcome. To old friends, welcome back.

Ciao for now,

~Marcasite

Sorrow's Lament

Marcasite — Sat, 22 Nov 2008 02:20:00 GMT

Author's Note

I feel I must begin by warning potential readers that, firstly, this is a more adult oriented tale and, secondly, the first chapters are a rewrite of an earlier tale that I posted here.

In the first chapters, there are extra details and scenes, things have been removed or expanded upon. I feel that this version is much better than the original, which suffered from a lack of time on my part to give it the attention it deserved.

To new readers, welcome. For old friends, welcome back.

~Marcasite

Fable 2 - Rose's Letter follow on.

Ryanx3 — Sun, 17 May 2009 16:55:49 GMT

As you turn over the letter you see an Arcane like incantation. "Ultirusque A Profugus
Addo Is Hic, Addo Is Iam
Nos Dico Super In Concesses Vox
Bonus Quod Malum" When you finish reading it a Bright Blue Lights wraps around you and you open your eyes to see Scythe the legendary Hero you've only read about. "We've been waiting" Says Sycthe Softly. "We?" you ask. "Me and Rose". "*GASP* WHERE IS SHE?!". A few days ago the Spire was Activated and a Light shon' in my Forest and there was your sister. "yes yes i already know that take me to her!". "In Due time my Child". "You realize she will not know who you are? She has'net aged since she died". "HOW DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO US?!". "You'll find i know alot of things". He shows you a path and you walk down it, When you reach the end you see Rose you run towards her to hug her and then BANG. You wake up.

Fable2-To My Dearest Rose

ReaversSparrow — Mon, 02 Feb 2009 06:41:49 GMT

Hello everyone! I'm pretty new to these forums and was excited to know that there was a section for fan fiction. I have a story that I am working on and would like to share.
Notes: To My Dearest Rose: A story of revenge, sacrifice, love and friendship. This follows the basic storyline of Fable II, but I add my own scenes and some new situations. I use my hero, a female, and she is telling her story. It's a bit long, but bare with me please.

Hope you like it!

Chapter 1-Death

The wind was blowing in a most cruel way through the bustling city. Traders crossed the stony bridge into town, merchants stood by their stalls peddling their wares to whoever would pass and the townsfolk were all busy going about their daily routines. Snow began to fall, carried along by the blistering wind.
    Above the heads of the fussy people, up above the stony city flew a little sparrow. It fluttered it’s wings rapidly as it flew from the crowded marketplace towards another part of the city. It was a quiet place. In place of all the vegetable and meat stalls, there were broken and abandoned ones. Boards lay rotting and forgotten as dirty and downcast villagers trudge past broken windows. All the stone in this part of the city is grime covered and the cobbled streets and littered with dust and old rags.
   The little sparrow lands upon the large stone wall that surrounds the city. It looks around and looks down upon two small children huddled together by a trash can. There is a small fire going inside and the two young girls rub their hands together trying to warm up. The sparrow then turned and let out a small drop of guano. It fell and splattered on the smallest of the girls who was quick to try and wipe it off.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I felt something warm hit my head, which was odd at this time, for winter had long since set in. My sister, older than me by a few years, recoiled as I pulled back my hand. “Oh...yuck!” She held her nose,”Here...lemme get that for you.” She took a bit of her tattered shirt and rubbed what she could from my hair. “There...is that all better?” She gave me a comforting smile that seemed to warmed my heart like nothing else. I needed all the warmth I could get nowadays.
   “Rose...” I sniffled as my tiny nose began to run,”I’m so cold...I wish..”But my throat tightened and the words wouldn’t come out. I had to turn away and look out towards a towering structure to hide my tears. Rose patted me on the back and looked up at the huge stony building. “Castle Fairfax looks so nice in the snow...Wish we could live there.” Her smile faded and she turned towards the street.

There was sudden commotion. A crowd was gathered around a large caravan. “Looks like another trader’s come to town. Let’s go check it out!” Rose grabbed my hand and pulled me away, trying to distract us both from thinking about how little we had.
It wasn’t a sad existence. There were plenty of other kids in the same situation. Their mother and father weren’t around anymore. There was a frigid winter five years ago. There weren’t many people who didn’t catch the flu that year. The little section of the city now known as Bowerstone Old Town used to be part of the major city, but that winter Lord Lucien, the man who lives in Castle Fairfax, had the most infected part of the city quarantined. Not many survived and ever since, the little corner of town has been nearly abandoned. All that live there are mostly homeless and orphans. There is the occasional trader who comes through after not being able to sell much to the more sophisticated area of town. And here once again is another, this one seeming fairly interesting at least.

Rose suddenly stopped and I ran right into her and fell back. There appeared a scruffy man with a tall hat and ragged clothes. He had a grin on his face and was looking menacingly at Rose.
“‘Ello there, Rose. Come to take me up on that offer?” The man chuckled. Rose sneered up at him and crossed her arms,”My answer is still no, Arfur.”
“Eh, you’ll come round!” He called after her as she ran past him towards the trader. I ran after Rose and made my way into the crowd.

“I can’t see past this crowd!” Rose tried craning her neck to get a look at what the caravan held, but she quickly gave up,”Sparrow, you’re small. See if you can wiggle through the crowd and get a look at what he’s sellin’.”
I nodded and started to squeeze through and up to the front. I then pushed through and up to the very front, tripping as I did so and falling right in front of the caravan. “Oi, you there, young one!” As I looked up I saw a man with a big curly mustache and a tall red top hat. He held out his hand,”Come up here if you will, child!” I was a bit nervous and went beet red but took his hand and he pulled me up on stage. “There now! Ladies and Gentleman! I, the Mystical Murgo, have brought you some fantabulous mystical artifacts from all corners of Albion! Right here I have a gilded mirror, ah but not just any mirror, sir.” He said as he overheard a man at the front scoff. “No sir, this mirror will make anyone who looks into it appear beautiful!”
“I’ll take it!” Came a shout from another man in the audience. Everyone turned to see a balding man with patches of dirt on his face and several teeth missing. His ears went red and he just held up a small sack of gold. “Very generous sir! You’ll not regret it!” Exclaimed Murgo as he took the small bag and let the man carry off the big mirror. “Oh, one more thing, you must look at the mirror in complete darkness! ‘S the only way it works!” I watched as Murgo hopped back up on stage and pointed a grubby finger in my face.
“Now! Child, do you believe in magic?” Murgo turned to me and had begun to spin his mustache in his fingers. I looked at the crowd and went a deep shade of magenta. Rose had evidently made her way up to the front and was smiling, but shaking her head. I swallowed hard, looked back up to Murgo and muttered,”Y-yes sir...”
“Yes! Children believe in the magic! Come here child, take this.” Murgo had grabbed a key and shoved it into my tiny hand. I looked at the old junk piece of metal. “Now tell me girl, what do you make of this key?”

At first I said nothing but just shook my head. Everyone was muttering amongst themselves as they watched Murgo and I. “It’s alright it’s just a key...but!” He pointed to the sky then pulled out another key from his pocket. “This key! Yes, this key is very special. Take this key.” My eyes glistened and I took it instantly. I could feel something funny about this key. It felt as though it wanted to jump out of my hands, as if it were trying to escape. Out of fear I held tighter to this key, hoping it wasn’t going to do something strange. Murgo looked down at my tiny hands strangling the key and smiled. “You seem to be gripping that key extra tightly, girl. Why is that?”
“It...feels funny in my hand.” I muttered. Murgo gave out a hearty laugh and snatched both the keys up, putting the plain one in his pocket. “This silver key here” He held it up,”This key is one of many. It is unknown just how many keys there are total, but it is said that a great treasure waits for those who posses them all. I have one here. There are magical silver chest scattered all over and only these keys are able to open them. So...this key could be your greatest purchase!”

A man in the crowd held up a satchel of gold,”I’ll take that!”
“Very wise purchase, my fellow!” Murgo took his second sack of gold and pocketed while handing over the key. I saw as he was handing it to the man, that it was not the same key she held, but the plain one that did nothing. This Murgo fellow didn’t seem too nice. Rose waved for me to jump back down. Already the crowd was thinning. Me, Rose a few homeless people and a woman wearing strange garments with her hood up, still stood there watching. Murgo finally got to his last item. It was a strange silver box with odd markings on it and a bit rusted. I wondered if this was one of the silver chests Murgo was talking about.

“Right, last item, but it’s a one! This here is a music box...a wishing music box. Just turn the handle and make your wish!” I gasped looking up at Rose,”Maybe we could...”
Rose looked down at me and shook her head with a sigh,”This man is full of it. All this stuff is rubbish little Sparrow. Besides, there ain’t no magic left.”

“That is sad to hear.” Said the hooded woman. She spoke with a raspy, but commanding tone.
“What?” Rose turned to her. “It is sad to hear that you do not believe in magic. All children believe in magic.”
“Yeah well I don’t. Sparrow might, but believin’ innat stuff is...well...we need to be thinkin’ about what we’re gonna eat tomorrow.” Rose told the woman.
“Surely you believe a little. This trader does not realize what he has there. For five gold pieces you could have your answer.” The woman shifted in place and looked down at me. I jumped as I saw her eyes completely white, but oddly staring right into mine. She was blind.
“For five gold pieces we could eat for a week.” Rose told her, anger rising in her voice now.
“Rose...”I tugged on her sleeve to get her attention.
“Yes, but at the end of that week, you and your sister would be no closer to your dreams...no closer to the inside of that castle...” And with that the woman turned and began to walk away. Rose shook her head but then she looked over at the magic box.
   “Rose...I want to..”I looked at the music box. Rose seemed to understand and smiled,”Alright little Sparrow. Tell you what. You get five gold pieces and we’ll buy the music box.”I felt my heart leap. We never were able to buy anything besides food for ourselves. Now the only problem was getting the five gold pieces...

   Rose and I decided that begging might have been the way to go, but on our way there seemed to be a problem. “Oh, children!” A large hulking man wearing an official looking uniform approached us looking distraught. “Oh hello there Derek. What’s the matter? ‘Nother criminal at large?” Rose asked. Derek was the main guard in Old Town and looked out for the two of us when he could.
“Yeah, several criminals in fact and I’m responsible for handlin’ their papers only...there was this big gust o’ wind an’ now all the papers ‘ave been scattered. I dunno what I’ll do if Lord Lucien finds out...”
“Don’t worry Derek, we’ll get the papers for you, won’t we little Sparrow?” Rose winked. I smiled and held out my tiny dirt covered hands. “We’ll be needin’ a gold piece though..Sir” I batted my big green eyes at him. “Oh right...you get me those papers an’ I’ll give you a gold piece. Promise!” The guard crossed his heart. I instantly ran off down the ally, too excited to contain myself. Usually I was shy and kept out of the way. Rose was the one who always got the gold and brought home food. This time it was my turn to do something for my big sis. “Wait little Sparrow!” Rose chuckled and ran after me.

Ahead of us there came shouts and jeers,”Leave it alone Rex!” Came the voice of a little girl. A small boy ran past me yelling,”Rex’s found a dog an’ ‘e’s gonna beat the crap out of it!” Rose ran on ahead of myself and there was a big boy holding a stick and whacking a dog about.
“Hey! Stop it!” Rose shouted at the boy, who just turned to her and puffed out his chest. “Oh yeah? What’s a girl gonna do about it?”
“I’ll knock you out is what!” Rose stood just an inch above him, but you wouldn’t be able to tell with the hat he was wearing. I stopped to look at the scene. He smirked and head butted Rose, knocking her flat on the ground. “Hey! You just hit a girl!” Yelled one of the boys. “Yeah, and I’m about the hit another one!” I fumbled for the toy sword Rose had gotten me last year for my birthday and faced the boy who now looked taller as he came towards me. This was a lot scarier than I had thought it would be. The boy swung at me but somehow I managed to dodge it and swung with all my might and my eyes closed. “Ow! Hey!” Rex yelled as I hit him in the ribs. I was stunned. I hit him! But I must have stood there a bit too long because he hit me in the back of the head with the stick he had. “Aah!” I had to blink away the tears and started to swing wildly at the boy. I managed to hit him three more times before I hit the right spot. The boy cried out in pain and dropped the stick, crumpling to the ground. Now he was whimpering and holding his crotch. “Lemme alone you nutter!” All the kids began laughing as the bully ran off. Rose sat up,”Ow....that boy is horrible...but, you ran him off little Sparrow. for you!”
   I helped Rose to her feet and we both turned to see a crowd of little kids all staring at us. “Um...h-hello...” I stuttered. The kids just giggled and ran off. There came a whimpering from a corner of the alley and the dog that was beaten came out from the shadows. It’s tail was tucked under it’s legs and it was looking up at Rose and I. “Aww...look at you. You poor thing. That bully’s ran off, you’re safe now.” Rose held out her hand and the dog licked it. Rose stood straight again and looked down at the dark mutt. The dog’s ears perked up and he began to pace around. “Oh..oh dear...I’m sorry doggie. You’re very sweet, but we can barely afford to feed ourselves.” Rose frowned. I looked sadly at the dog as we both walked away and out of the alley.
Rose and I walked down the street until we came upon another crowd and a man standing behind some strange accordion looking device.
“Yes, yes, gather round now and I will show you all this wondrous contraption. Now I’ll need some volunteers from the audience. I’ll give you a gold piece-” said the man. “We’ll do it!”I yelled before I could stop myself. Rose chuckled as she walked up onto the stage. I eagerly followed.
“Alright now children, now just strike a pose and I shall capture your likeness with this photographication machine.” I decided to make a funny face and Rose just folded her arms and smiled. There was a blinding flash and a loud click. For a moment I thought this is what must have made that strange lady blind, but after blinking a few times I was alright. I blinked the stars away and the man spoke again,”Right, in three months you shall have your picture and will be absolutely betwazzled by the results! Here’s your gold piece.” The man handed me the coin which I quickly pocketed. “The name is Barnum, by the way. Remember that name. I’m gonna be big someday! Just wait!” I just nodded and smiled sweetly as Rose and I trotted off down the street..

“We’ve got our first gold piece! Alright! When we get those papers back for the guard we’ll have two. There has to be more to do around this place...” Rose said now walking along ahead. I took the weathered gold piece out of my pocket and twirled it in my fingers. I’d never got to hold the money before. It was so shiny and kind of heavy in my hand.
It wasn’t long before we had three more pieces. One for helping out the warehouse man with a pesky beetle problem and another for helping a couple run away together. We also got one for helping out a barmaid with an old drunk. I had picked up four of the five papers needed to give to Derek and on the way the dark mutt had brought us the last one.
“We have them all little Sparrow, let’s go give the guard his papers! I can’t believe we got them all. We’ll be able to buy the music box –“ But she was cut off as Arfur stepped into the alley,”Hey! You there!” My eyes widened and I clenched onto the papers.
“Hey kid, how ‘bout you give me them papers hm? I’ll give you a gold piece for ‘em. Save you the trip back..What do you say?”
Rose,”Well...I s’pose gold is gold...” I shook my head and held onto the papers,”We can’t. We have to give them to Derek remember? He’ll be in trouble if we don’t.”
“True...alright then. We’ll just be going to our friend the guard. Sorry Arfur, no deal.” Rose said and pushed past him. Arfur grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back. “Ah! Hey! Lemme go!”It seems today was my day to be brave. I stuffed the papers in my shirt (which actually made me feel warmer) and I ran at Arfur kicking him in the shins. “Ow! You little-“ Rose got out of his grip and kicked him in the crotch making him keel over. We then proceeded to run like a bat outta hell towards the guard.
   We arrived out of breath and holding the papers outstretched. “Well, well. You got ‘em all! As I promised. Here is your gold coin.” He took the papers and placed a shiny new gold coin into my open palm. I put it in my pocket and stood there catching my breath.
“Well,” said Rose now able to speak,”Now we can go buy the music box, little Sparrow! Let’s go before he closes!”

Rose and I ran back to the caravan with the wind at our heels. Murgo was outside finishing packing up his caravan and getting ready to close when we arrived holding out the five gold coins. “Aha! You’re back! Come to take the music box off my hands have you? You won’t be disappointed.” He pocketed the coins and took out the music box from a red velvety bag, handing it to Rose. Rose curtsied to Murgo and handed the box to me.
“Come on little Sparrow! Let’s go make our wish!” Rose had grown exceedingly excited as the chance of getting the box became more of a reality. Rose usually didn’t show her playful side. She was the older sister and she did everything she could to take care of me, her baby sister. I wasn’t really much of an outspoken girl because Rose did all the talking and protected me from the world. Today I free. It was as if things might finally be turning around. Living in a big warm castle...it would be wonderful.

“I wonder what it’ll be like...”Rose started to ramble on,”Big fireplaces...big beds of course. We’d have loads of food and blankets. We’ll never go hungry again! Maybe we should wish that mum and dad could come too...”
Rose never mentioned mother and father. It was such a sensitive subject for her. I was too young to remember either of them very well, but Rose loved them so much. She got to know them.
We finally got to a spot that was seemingly void of people and set the box down on an empty crate. Rose rubbed her frozen hands together and grabbed the handle,”What should we say?”
I stopped for a moment to think of just the right wording. If this was one of those one wish things, I wanted to get it right,”I wish...that me and Rosie could live in the castle..and, and Rosie could have mum and dad back!”
Rose turned the handle and at once the music came out. The top opened and Rose stopped turning in surprise, but it didn’t matter. The box continued to spark and make a strange melody that made both of their hair stand on end. The sparks grew and the box began spinning around.
“This is it little Sparrow!” Rose’s eyes shone as she watched. My jaw was almost on the floor with amazement. The box spun faster and looked as if it might fly into the air when it suddenly vanished.

Rose and I stared at the spot where the box had vanished. It didn’t happen. It couldn’t have happened. Maybe it had just gone to the castle? Should we try to show up there and hope it would be there too? How would it look if two homeless children arrived at Castle Fairfax asking if a magic box had come by? We’d be thrown in an asylum!
“Well...it’s been a long day little Sparrow. Let’s go to bed.” said Rose in her usual humdrum voice. She simply walked away, not looking back. I stood there a few seconds more still staring and hoping it would come back. I felt the crate thinking it might have even turned invisible. I snatched at the air believing it just couldn’t be true. After a few minutes of scraping the crate with my fingernails and prying open the loose boards, I turned and headed back with Rose. She took my hand and I had to hide my face as I wiped away a few tears. “I’m just sleepy.” I tried to tell Rose, but she knew I wasn’t fooling anyone. We both felt miserable.
Finally, we reached what we called home. It was a small assembly of boards designed to look like a shelter of sorts and on the porch lay a very familiar dog.
“Hey. What are you doing here? I told you we can’t keep you...oh well...I s’pose you can stay.”Rose patted his furry head and stumbled up the small steps and lay down on a ragged towel.
“Night little Sparrow. Tomorrow will be better. I promise...”Rose shuffled a bit and I could hear her muttering something about “...five gold coins...” and “...whole day wasted...” I sat on a part of the board that wasn’t covered in snow.
I hugged the dog and then went to my little blanket on the floor. The dog lay down on the “porch” and whined a bit as I fell to sleep.

   There came a barking and a man’s voice,”Easy there...there’s a nice angry, stray dog...”
Rose spoke next,”What’s goin’ on?”
“I’ve been sent to collect you miss. Lord Lucien requested to see you and your sister.” The man said and I opened my yes to see a guard standing in front of our little shelter. The dog was growling and Rose was smiling as she turned to shake me awake. “Come on little Sparrow! Wake up! We’re going to Lord Lucien’s castle!” I sat bolt upright and stood.
“Well then, let’s go.” Said the guard.

Before we knew it we were walking a long and winding road up to the castle. The guards lead from in front and some from behind kept me at an uncomfortable pace. Rose happily skipped along, despite the alarming cold at this height. The snow soaked through my cloth shoes and made my feet numb.

Finally we arrived at the great stone halls of Fairfax Castle. A butler named Jeeves greeted us at the door,”Oh, you’ve arrived. Well, come, come in!”
He had such a polite manner and his clothes fit him well. I noticed that he had no stains or bits dirt on them anywhere and his coat looked particularly warm.

We stepped into the castle and my eyes grew the size of the pies I had seen in the market. There were huge stone pillars reaching all the way to the ceiling, which seemed as high as a mountain. The walls were draped with lavish tapestries, woven with bits of gold and seemed to portray a family tree. I saw candelabra’s hanging from the walls displaying little tiny fires from each one. I could feel the warmth spread over me and I took a lung full of air, breathing in the wondrous smell of something cooking further in.
I must have been dazzled because Rose tapped me on the shoulder and told me to come along.

I snapped out of it and stumbled over to where Jeeves was beckoning.

We followed the stretch of hallway with Jeeves. Rose was chatting up a storm but I had no words. It had worked. We were in the castle and Lord Lucien was going to tell us we could stay there with him. We would all live together. But what about mother and father? Would they show up as well?

We reached a huge wooden door decorated with little pictures and symbols. The butler turned and began to speak,”Now, when you enter only speak when spoken to, address him only as my lord, treat him with utmost respect at all times, don’t ask questions and do not mention Lady Fairfax or miss Amelia.” After he finished speaking he opened the doors and let Rose and I enter.

As we walked in, our eyes met with a huge stained glass window. Large bookshelves that towered to the vaulted ceiling filled with volumes upon volumes of books. There were big wooden desks laden with more books. Ink bottles were littered among the books and quills lay forgotten beside them. At one of the desks stood a tall man with dark brown hair and mutton chops. He wore a ruffled noble shirt with noble pants and fancy buckled shoes that shone in the candle light. He turned towards me and upon seeing us he smiled. I noticed that there seemed to be a bit of a gleam in his icy blue eyes.
“Ah,”His voice was rough as he spoke,”Welcome. I am Lord Lucien. And you two must be...”
“My name is Rose, sir and this,”She grabbed me by the shoulders,”this is my little sister. I call her Sparrow see and-“ Lucien held up his hand to stop her from saying anymore,”I suppose you’re wondering why I brought you here?”
Rose nodded as did I. “Well I had heard that you bought a rather, er, interesting music box from a trader.”

“Y-yes sir, we did.”Rose muttered. “Interesting, where is it?” Lucien asked.
Rose looked at me but all I could manage was a few stutters and a hiccup. “Well sir we...um..made a wish and...”
“Made a wish?” Lucien’s eyebrow raised in intrigue. “Yes sir, but the music box vanished after we did.”
“Extraordinary..”Lucien turned to me. Rose shifted then asked,”Sorry sir but, what’s extraordinary?”
“What’s extraordinary is that you were able to use it...what did you wish for?”Lucien asked, turning to his desk again. I spoke up this time,”I wished that we could live in a castle like this one...sir.”

Lucien nodded,”Well, perhaps that could be arranged. But first I would like you both to stand on that circle.” He pointed to a stand right in front of the window. Rose looked at me with a concerned face and I returned the look. “It’s alright, it won’t hurt you. I promise.” Lucien told them both.
I decided to be brave and stepped up first and. Rose quickly followed. Lucien turned towards us and as he watched, a faint blue light formed and rose up to surround Rose and I.

“Wh-what is this?” Rose backed into the middle with me. Lucien smirked but only for a moment,”Yes...this is very interesting...” He extended a hand towards the light but he recoiled and the light turned a deep crimson. “What? What is this?”
“What’s going on?” panic filled Rose’s voice now.
“No..this is all wrong..”Lucien was now thumbing through his books as quickly as he could,”One of you is the hero but you’re not one of the three...one of you is the fourth...”Lucien grabbed something unseen off his table and turned to face the both of us. Rose screamed,”What are you doing?!” Something she saw frightened her. I couldn’t see what Lucien held but Rose began to cry,”Please don’t!” But it was too late. Lucien pulled a large pistol from behind his back and aimed it at her. “NO!!!” She screeched. Lucien fired and Rose fell to the ground.

My heart leapt and stopped. My eyes welled with tears and my heart began again, racing inside my frightened chest. “ROSE!!!” I wailed. Lucien just looked down at her tiny body crumpled on the stand, not moving, not breathing. I just stood rooted to the spot, too scared to move, in too much shock to speak.
Lucien then turned to me and aimed the gun. “I’m afraid I can’t allow you to live either...I’m sorry.” I looked up as he drew closer and fired. I felt an intense pain in my chest. There came a pain in my back and a sound of glass as I stumbled backwards. I felt myself suddenly falling. The cold air rushed past my ears, the horror of what happened up in the tower feeling as if it were only a horrible nightmare. Down, down, down I fell. I seemed to fall for an eternity, the pain in my chest waning. Suddenly I hit something hard. There came a sickening crack and white hot pain in my skull. More pain coursed through me. My arm felt as though it had been broken in several places, my back throbbed and I couldn’t feel my legs. Darkness and stars filled my vision and everything became a blissful nothingness.

Fable: The Untold Story

WoollyPenguin — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 20:48:14 GMT

Chapter 1: Begging for more.

Mike looked around and shivered, the cold made his arms and legs numb. He was used to it though. Never meant he enjoyed it though.
Just as he shivered again something plopped right onto his head, he lifted a hand and looked at the white mess on his hand then..
"Ewwww!" he yelled and Rose, his sister jumped a foot in the air then laughed at the white mess on his head.
"Thats disgusting! Hear its lucky though, Like finding a four leafed clover! Though I think I would of preffered the clover..." Rose commented quite harshly,
"Shut up, Rose. It's not funny!"
"Is so."
"shutup..." Mike murmured too low for her.
"Daww, look at castle fairfax! It looks so lovely in the snow.."
"You mean it looks like it has millions of spots on it."
Rose muttered something.
A roar rose up from the crowd nearby.
"What is going on over there!?" She yelled wandering off towards the noise, I paused then followed her hastily.

Then Ol' Arfur crept out.
"Have ya reconsidred ma offer rosse?" He spoke really bad grammer. Then I had a flashback of when Rose met him...

"Hey, Ya lass! ge' over ere!" Arfur yelled at Rose.
Rose walked up to him.
"Y-yes sir?" She whispered frightened.
"Ow' abou' a deal! I'll give ya food if you ave' a fun time with meh!" He grinned.
"NO!" Rose roared and she crept away, A guard approached Arfur and looked at him.
"Arfur, again!? With me you rascal..."
Arfur swore and ducked and leaped over the fencing then dissapeared.
The guards chased him of course...

"We will never be that hungry, No!"
"Ya'll be back, An' I'll be waiten fer yeh!"
Arfur yelled at her, He walked away again.
The crowd had died away by now,
"Oh, another trader" She muttered, I nudged her and pointed at Derek.
"I think he wants us sis." I told her.
"Oh! Maybe we can get some gold from his task..."
We walked nervously towards the guard.
"I seem to have lost mah warrants, Can ya two elp' me find em? The reward is 10,000 gold as it may secure dah future of ol' town!"
"Yes! Definetly!"

"chapter 2 coming soon, this was a taster and telling you what is happening etc"))

((This is like the fable 2 story but without theresa and a few other events changed, Sparrow talks etc and it should be fun))

Falling Grace.

Faerie_child — Mon, 03 Aug 2009 06:28:48 GMT

This story is dated before the fall of the heroes. The guild has been attacked but Heroes are still revered and one woman aims to change that. This is Falling Grace.

The Man behind the Magic.

Faerie_child — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 13:24:47 GMT

This is Garth's story. The tale behind his origins and how he became to be the greatest Will User, Albion will ever know. Hope you enjoy it and without much further ado; Here's The Man Behind the Magic.

Call me Lance

AyameVioletNinja — Sat, 26 Sep 2009 19:37:13 GMT

Call me Lance is my first Fable 2 fanfic. In fact it's my first fanfic for Fable ever. This is the first chapter.

I wrote this while I was sick (still am) so it's not like my usual stuff. If I get bad reviews or no response for it, this will be the only chapter and I'll try again with something else.

Fable II - If I Don't Wake

Getsemone — Sun, 11 Oct 2009 09:46:10 GMT

Really, this is just a placeholder to hold people over (that's you, skeane!) until I get around to seeing See The Future again. So... yeah.

---

'You know, I never though of it this way, but... well's are deep.'

'And wet.'

She trudged through the muck at the bottom of the well slowly, feeling the last remnants of water dripping through the stonework above her, hitting her head like a sledgehammer in the silence. She turned suddenly, as though tapped by a ghost, or stopped by some unknown sound. Even she was confused as to what she heard. Was it real, or just a memory of a sound so real, so lifelike, that even now she could remember it so perfectly?

As she turned back she looked down, sighing unattractively as she tried to pull her boot out of the mud. The suction noise echoed through the well, over and over and over...

'You know, last time I checked, wells went down, not sideways.' She thought wryly, continuing her journey deep through the earth. She had lost the ability to speak long ago, as her water skin dripped dry. She couldn't remember how long it had been since she jumped down into the darkness, how long she had been walking... hell, she couldn't remember how long it had been since she last stopped.
'Did I even stop at all?' She asked herself mentally. Something about this place.. made her forget. The rascally mutt that had been barking and whimpering from the top of the well, who had faded from sight and from hearing ever so quickly, what was his name? Was it her dog? Or was it just some dog who decided to follow her through the dangers of this land she used to know? Too many questions, and not enough answers to go around.

She knew this quest meant something, as she wandered into the large stone cavern, no mud in sight. She sighed happily, though uncertainly. From what she could remember, large caverns never meant well. And she was right. The beautiful lights, so mesmerizing at first look, shot into the ground, pulling a body through the stone.

'How is that even... never mind.' She huffed. She pulled out a single revolver, rusted and old from use and constant water damage. She shot one of the hollow men thrice in the head, and a few more times in the chest before it erupted into oblivion. She backed away from the crowd of undead, shooting and reloading, before deciding this was getting nowhere. She used what little will she had to force the hollow men back before holstering her revolver, running a hand above her shoulder and onto the hilt of her katana. It was old and weak, near useless these days, but the will she had fused into it's blade over time had aided her well. She sliced and smashed, breaking bones and sending skulls across the room. Her mind hazed and blurred, the figures around her swirling as she attacked. And then... silence.

Her katana screeched loudly as it slid into it's sheath, and she stepped forward slowly. She crushed a lying skull beneath her boot as she sat, leaning against a stone pillar. She ran a hand over it's course face. She thought back to the time she and Hammer, her ex-pacifist monk friend who knocked over a pillar with her sheer muscle. She had undying respect for Hammer. But their friendship was not enough to make her stay. Neither of them regretted it, but after so many years, so long, she could no longer fight these battles alone. She closed her eyes, ignoring the battlefield around her, feeling so tired... she was old. Very old. She's getting to old for this. Her thoughts back to the dog on the surface. He knew where she was going, what she was doing.

Her time had come. Death was imminent. The painful wracking of her chest as she coughed up blood... all this danger had caught up to her. She turned her head, looking at the two coffins lining the wall. A large stone Hammer stood above one. What looked like a lexicon sat above the other.

Garth was the oldest of all of them, and so the first to go. He was brought back to Albion, as was written in his will, and was buried deep beneath the earth. Beneath the shores of Bowerstone lake. In a place no one could find him without a Heroes' endurance and strength.

Hammer lived to quite an age, but died from a snowstorm that ravaged the Northern temple she lived in. She requested to be buried on the mainland, in the same room as Garth.

Reaver wasn't dead yet. He wasn't giving up on a world that had yet to be destroyed by his selfishness and ego. She was happy he wasn't here to taint this place.

She lay down her sword and her revolver, placing next to them a letter and a seal, her seal. The first she ever received from her mother and mentor, Theresa. She told her son to use whatever will she had taught him to find her should she not return. He was a bright child. She was saddened to have to leave him. He had such potential...

'If I don't wake,' Sparrow used the tiniest speck of will to leave this final message in the seal for whoever picked it up, 'bury me with my friends. All I have and all I need will be with me.'

Well... I hated that. But it will have to do... even though it makes no sense. Basically, she's old. And she knows she's going to die. I made it up as I went along.

Fable II: Wanted, Needed

Getsemone — Tue, 25 Aug 2009 11:00:50 GMT

((I know it isn't very ... so please don't hurt me if you don't like it!))

It really was a simple decision, when put down to the basics. But why was it just so hard to answer?

Sacrifice. The final step. I would be the perfect hero, the perfect savior of Albion if I chose this. Hundreds, maybe thousands of lives could be spared with a single move. I had worked so hard. Could I really take this final step?

Love. Oh, even thinking of it makes me want to reach out for the card hovering right in front of my face. Rose, my dear Dog, my husband, my two daughters. Maybe even my parents. I could earn it all back. I deserved it, I knew. What man could say I didn't? I had spent nearly my whole life alone, I had lost everything. Anyone else would do the same.

Wealth. That was right out of the question for me. I was too drawn to the light, too loving to make this mistake. No amount of money could bring those lives back. And I would never resort myself to knowing I gave up my only chance.

I wonder what they would choose. Each standing, waiting patiently for my decision. Hammer, Garth, Reaver. Oh, I could just imagine what he would say.

Wealth, of course. Even despite what he may have done for Albion, deep down, he truly had quite ambitions. Immortality, lust, greed, needless killing. Wealth was right up his alley.

And dear Hammer; she would want to do the right thing, her heart was too pure to want anything else. But the chance to bring back the Abbot - her father figure - would be too much for her to bear. I do love her, as a sister of course, but at times she can love too much for her own .

Garth? Well, I guess it will never be known. He has no need for money, and from the moments of small talk we have had I have found he never had a wife, nor children. An only child, whose parents died at a reasonable age from natural causes. He was content. Sacrifice seemed like the reasonable choice, but who knows what he thinks? He seemed to have done well in hiding since his partnership with Lucien ended...

'Violently.' I mocked bitterly. I was in no mood for happiness; not when I was so torn inside. I had only one person left to think of.

What would Rose do? Oh, how I miss her? Would she save the masses? Would she ask for the money, buy a large castle and bountiful amounts of food? If it was I who died, would she revive me? She was so young... I may never know.

"Send them back, Theresa." I said hoarsely, my voice not as musical as it once was. I was choked with emotions. She looked confused.

"And who would that be?" She said, confusion riddled somewhere deep into her voice. I should have been surprised - surprising Theresa barely ever happened, I think never, even.

"Rose, Dog, my family. Love. I need them." I said, and she nodded.

"It is done." As the three Heroes came back into view, I sat shakily through their little speeches. I was both sad, and excited. My family, my sister, they would be back! But I had given up so many lives!

"What made you chose it, Sparrow?" I looked up to Hammer. She both looked curious, as all are when asking a question, and slightly sad. I knew she understood what my reasons were - my family - but she wanted to know why I couldn't make the final step.

"I may want to save the people. I may, somewhere inside, want the money. But I need my family. I need them." I said, unshed tears welling in my eyes. She nodded, a slight smile on her lips as she gave a final, sad bye.

This was the last time I saw Hammer.The last reminder from my old life. My lonely life.

From now on, I was living the life I needed, not the life they wanted.

((Now I've written it, I'm really afraid of criticism. Please tell me what I did wrong, not just that it's horrible, please o.0))

The untold stories: tales of the people of Albion.

Faerie_child — Thu, 18 Dec 2008 22:41:17 GMT

My story would seem ordinary, why you may ask, because I am not a hero, a being with supreme power that flows through my veins. I am a villager, a shopkeeper, a solider, a bandit, a girl, a boy, someone, anyone, I am human. I am weak and I can be silenced, for my bones may break and my body may crumble to dust, but my story will not be forgotten like so many before me. My story will be told and through it, I shall live on, longer then any of the great heroes, I shall be immortal.

The Classroom

Orakaius — Sat, 26 Sep 2009 22:36:03 GMT

Hello there little short story I just wrote up, not particulary great but I find it.... cute? Not to sure on the name, it may change in the future.

Anyway I hope you like it, and please comment.

---

The school bell rang for what seemed too long, all the children sat upon their chairs holding their face’s on the edges of their palms in sheer boredom, awaiting the routine education as they had always seen on Monday mornings. They awaited their teacher, who was always late, he taught the children the normal ideas of what children were expected to learn Math, English, Geography he tried his hardest to keep the kids morale up though this was not easy with the limited funds and support the school had.

A break from the deathly silence, a simple exhausted sigh from one of the kids a few looked at each other doing their best to summon a smile, then their brows falling once more as they heard the footsteps…..

Ol’ Mr Gibson walked in casually waving to the class, cheerful… for a change. What was different today?

“Why you so happy” cried a child with his head buried in his arms.

Mr Gibson did not sit down as he normally did, he leaned back on his desk looking smug and blissful, he woofed at all the children, commenting and asking them to cheer up.

They ask why.

“Well today I have a very surprise for you all!” he shouted, really shooting at the pain of the 7am headaches of the class which was followed by mixed reactions a few gripped their ears some just grunted at him, but some… some actually straightened up in excitement.

Their excitement was indeed wise…

“Today! We have a special guest to give a little talk and share some stories.” chuckled the teacher.

The kids at the front rolled their eyes and deeply sighed.

“who’s it this time, another farmed?” retorted a child from the back, the class lit up with life full giggles.

“No Adam not another farmer!” snapped Mr Gibson, “Today we have a hero! Come on in Hero!”

Every single child within the room jolted up in shock and fascination.

***

As a young meagre lad entered the room the class sat silently staring bluntly and unconvinced. A little girl tilted her head in suspicion as the hero walked in and raised her hand and waving it about vigorously.

“Yes just take a seat there.” mumbled Ol’ Gibson to the hero. Gibson sat down at his desk and gave word for the hero to begin while faintly doing some paperwork, the hero nodded nervously. The hero scanned the room and smiled while chocking on his own tongue, then moved over to the chalk board to proceed to write his name. He shakily scratched some letters on the board., when he finished he put the chalk down on the desk leaving a mark on it, Gibson eyed him. The hero quickly looked away from Gibson and moved out of the way revealing the name to the class.

It simply stated “ MARROW”

A few boys laughed clearly knowing what it meant, and wondering why a hero would be named as such. Marrow removed his long coat and placed it over the chair he was given. He looked at the girl who was still waving her arm about.

“Err you have a question?” He asked nicely. She shot back “Can I go home now?”

Marrow’s eyes narrowed in confusion and looked at the teacher “No” spoke Gibson ridiculing the girl.

“Errm ok anyway my name is Marrow and I…” The hero was interrupted.

“What kinda hero wears that?! You look like a..” the cruel child was cut off from Gibson “Enough of that Neil.” put Gibson softly.

Marrow uneasily laughed stroking the back of his head while the children eyed and inspected him, striking fear into Marrow. The children held back giggles at the cheap and plain ugly cottons, the old near rusted bronze hand axe & short sword wrapped with leather tied around his belt. His hair scruffy, rough, mixed matched brown and blonde confused everyone why he had dyed his hair two separate colours was beyond them.

He scratched his chin while smiling and waving awkwardly, a light beard but the beginnings of a man.

“Children stop being brats, and let him talk”

“We never stopped him talkin sir” snarled a young ruffian at the back.

“Is there any questions you would like to ask…” Gibson paused to look at the board “…Marrow(?)”

A girl from the right raised her hand slowly, Marrow nodded at her.

“what’s a marrow?” she asked in sincerity, Marrow went to answer but again was cut off.

“it’s the liquid that’s in yer bones!” shouted a boy at the front.

The girls squirmed in disgust. “right so I guess you’re wondering why I’m called that then huh.” said Marrow hurriedly.

“Is it because you smell of it?” laughed a boy at the back. “Adam..” warned Gibson without raising his head.

“er no. Its not because of I smell of it, its because when I was training…” Marrow looked at the floor uneasily sighing “I was shot by an arrow, it err…. Broke one of my ribs. And huhhh ahhhh nearly died I nearly died...”

The children’s heads raised up in a serious manner for the first time they were sitting proper, Ol’ Gibson looked up from his paper ever curious how he‘d survived. The girls looked unknowingly thinking nothing of it wondering how, the boys all raised their hands.

Marrow flickered his hand across the classroom then pointed to one of the lads “err you”

“How exactly you’d survive that sir?” asked the lad in respect.

Marrow sort of stumbled forward, his figure getting tense. Gibson and all the children looking on at him in anticipation…….. “I really have no idea. The doctor said it was unexplainable I just… just sort of got better. But the marrow is still in my blood stream..”

The entire room shuck their heads bewildered at the man not believing him or at least not wanting to. No further inquiries were made of his name, but soon as he stopped speaking every hand in the class was in the air. He fell back into his chair, somehow he’d managed to win the little brats over… Unbelievable he thought, while smirking slightly he rubbed his face and stood back up with new found confidence.

He pointed over to the girl who had asked to leave earlier hoping for a more interesting question.

She smiled “Why do you have two weapons?” she screeched in curious excitement, he looked around at everyone wanted to hear him talking.

He huffed in shock of the faces “ I was well ermm. You know how the guards train with a long sword? Which requires two hands, well you’d know of such a style. There are various fighting forms, many common some rare. I’ve always been trained to dual wield what that means exactly is that I fight with a weapon in each hand attacking and defending with both hands. Now I don’t know if your teacher will allow it but I’ve brought some toy weapons along…”

Gibson’s face reacted in horror, the children screamed in joy all running towards Marrow surrounding him laughing., he lifted one of the girls up in his arms carrying her. A small supply of wooden swords and other weapons were handed around to each child.

“Errr children please be careful, don’t swing or throw them! Remember safety condu..c..t..” yelped Mr Gibson who was interrupted by Marrow.

“Right some of you have swords, you know what swords are of course, but you!” pointing at the short quite lad at the front left.. “have a pole arm, it’s a bit shorter than a traditional staff for the purpose that it is for under tens.. You loudmouth at the back you’re carrying a club, plain but an effective choice…..”

“sir! I have another question.”

***

“Well that went better than I thought hah.” laughed Marrow to Mr Gibson while looking at the now empty classroom, Mr Gibson nodded gently… “I’ll inform your guild master you done a great job, and you can possibly graduate?” smiled Mr Gibson offering his hand to the Soon to be hero, which he had chosen not to tell the children.

Marrow exited the school, looking at the children playing with the wooden weapons and telling their parents then looking back at the teacher…

“You didn’t tell them I was a apprentice did you?” asked Marrow calmly but instantly stopping Gibson from replying. Marrow said farewell to old man Gibson each wishing each other fortune in their futures.

Marrow walked past some of the children readying to be back to the guild, when he was stopped by one of the kids….

She grabbed his leggings, “When can you come back Marrow?” He looked at her for a few moments…

“When I graduate.” He said uneasily awaiting her reaction.

“Can’t wait! See ya!” she shouted as she ran off with her friends.

---

Hermit