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Cocoaprints — FABLE: Allies in Arms - Ch 5
#allies #arms #balverine #chapter #darkwood #demon #door #fable #fight #four #game #ii #iii #mercenary #sid #troll #cocoaprints #1 #2 #3 #4
Published: 2016-05-27 23:31:34 +0000 UTC; Views: 1484; Favourites: 5; Downloads: 0
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Chapter 5
The pair walked beyond the gate at Oakvale’s edge. Just ahead, to the left of the path, was another cullis gate, beyond which laid a path that led up the cliff face to the familiar wooden covered bridge that spanned the path over their heads, giving easy access to one of the village’s row of homes.
Fable continued ahead silently, his feet going on automatic as he followed his hired hand. His eyes wandered to his right, coming to rest upon the field… To the last place he had seen his sister before… He averted his eyes, forcing himself to look ahead and watch Sid, who marched on like a man with a purpose.
As they entered the town proper, things started to seem even more familiar. On either side of the path were two shops, the general goods shop and the blacksmith’s shop. The center of town laid beyond them, its focus point being a large oak tree surrounded by benches. At the far side of the center stood the infamous tavern.
Sid did not break from his gait. Clearly, the tavern was his intended destination. Given their rather harrowing journey through Darkwood, Fable certainly could not argue that. He kept pace with the mercenary.
As they passed the tree, there was a whistle and a “hello” said in their direction. Fable stopped, turning to see who had voiced the greeting.
A woman around his age approached him. She had light blue eyes and medium brown hair tied back in a ponytail. Light freckles dotted her cheeks, notable when she smiled up at him. Sid had stopped to listen, his eyes tracing a path as he noted the attractiveness of the young lady.
“I remember you!” she exclaimed happily. “We thought you’d died in that awful bandit raid all those years ago. So where have you been all this time?”
Fable looked at the young woman with a hint of confusion, his eyebrows furrowing at why he might be so familiar to her.
The woman leaned closer to Fable, trying to emphasize her point. “You do remember me, don’t you? I was looking for Rosie, my teddy bear just before the raid.”
Fable’s eyes widened in realization. “Emily?” he said. “What…? How? What happened?”
The young woman blushed, apparently pleased that he remembered her. “After that day, my parents moved to Bowerstone, but I never really liked it there.” She paused, craning her head to better look at Fable, her own eyebrows furrowed in concern at his sudden change in expression.
His head hung slightly to one side, eyes in an unfocused stare, and his arm held his side. Fires burned around him brightly in his mind’s eye, the smell of blood and billowing smoke rolling into choke him as pained screams filled his hearing.
“Are you alright?” Emily asked.
“Boss?” Sid asked when Fable did not move.
Sid’s voice brought the hero around again, Fable shivering as he returned to the present. He ran his fingers through his hair. “Sorry,” he softly said.
“I think I lost you there for a second,” Emily softly laughed. She stopped, noticing Fable’s overall stance was still one of discomfort. “Is everything alright?”
“I’ll be fine,” Fable answered, his voice still shaky. “I just need… time and a healing potion.”
“And I need a beer,” Sid huffed.
Emily raised an eyebrow at the dark clothed stranger, eyes glancing back to Fable in silent question.
“He works for me,” Fable said.
“Well, I think I can solve your healing potion need,” Emily said.
“Sounds good,” Fable nodded. He then turned to Sid, waving a hand toward the tavern as a sign his hire could have the night off.
“Ye’ll be alright?”
Fable nodded.
“See yeh in th’ mornin’, boss,” Sid sang, happily continuing on his merry way to the tavern.
Using an occasional grasp against his shoulder to steady him, Emily led Fable along the pathway leaving the village center to the left of the tavern. Just along the path, next to the tavern, was a short path leading down a hill, ending at a trio of barns. Emily continued straight, with Fable in tow. They walked up a slight hill with a rocky outcrop to their left. At the crest of the hill, Emily gestured toward the first on the right. It was made of blocky grey stones with oak trimming. The roof, though solid enough on the inside, was actually made of straw. Typical for an Oakvale home. “This one is mine,” she explained.
The inside of Emily’s home was warm and open, essentially a single greatroom. A circular table with several stools sat just inside the doorway, with a bed, table, and cupboard along the right wall. To their left, the room opened up to make space for two additional beds and a bookshelf along the far wall. A second circular table sat in the middle of this space, near a warm, crackling fireplace.
Emily had Fable sit on the bed in front of them. Fable complied with no complaints, other than the agony his ribs quite loudly proclaimed. Emily stepped over to the cupboard, dropping to a knee as she started to sift through its contents. “I have a health potion around here somewhere,” Emily murmured. She paused a moment, leaning away from the cupboard to look at Fable, a question in her eyes. “You haven’t had many, have you? You can become addicted to them if you drink them too often.”
He shook his head. “No. I just haven’t eaten since yesterday,” Fable admitted.
Satisfied with his answer, Emily leaned back into the cupboard. “Well, as soon as I find…” Emily’s voice trailed off as she reached further back into the cabinet. “Got it!” she exclaimed. She brought the pinkish-red bottle of liquid over to her guest, who graciously accepted the gift and drank it in one breath.
After a moment, the agony his ribs vanished all together, as if they had never been broken. “Thank you, Emily,” Fable said, getting up from her bed.
“I’ll make you something to eat,” Emily offered, already turning back to the cupboard. “Norbert gave me the night off.”
“Norbert?” Fable asked, moving to the round kitchen table to watch Emily as she started to gather materials.
“The barman at the tavern. I’m a waitress there, now.”
“I suppose there’s not much of any other choice in this town, huh?” Fable commented.
“Getting back to Oakvale was all I cared about. Whatever happened after never mattered,” Emily said. “Alan, the other boy we used to play with, is here, too.”
“Alan? The kid who defended your teddy from your jerk of a brother?”
“Same Alan. He’s a mercenary these days,” Emily said, setting food on the table to begin preparations, and allowing Fable to peel the potatoes.
“Do you still have that teddy?”
An embarrassed smile crossed Emily’s features. She nodded towards the bed where Fable had recently been sitting. By her pillow sat a vigilant teddy bear with a blue patch. Fable gave a slight smirk.
“So what of your brother?” he asked.
“He’s a guard in the town now. Became a respectable man after spending a few years in Bowerstone.” She took the ingredients from Fable and placed them all in a kettle. Fable initially resisted handing over his last potato, strongly considering eating it.
His task complete, he settled back into the chair. “So how did you get back here? Darkwood isn’t exactly the safest road to travel.”
Emily gave Fable a teasing smile, tossing her head up to indicate the crossbow above the fireplace. “Well a girl can’t be too careful. Besides, Alan, my brother, and several others made the journey with me. When we arrived, most of the town had been restored. We helped finish what needed to be finished, and here we stayed.”
A faint smile crossed Fable’s features, though it faded.
Emily paused from stirring the vegetables in the kettle, looking back at Fable when the silence lingered. Her eyes flicked toward his arm, taking notice of his green ribbon. “You’re a Hero?”
Fable scoffed at the question, folding his arms and canting his head to one side. “Just Guild,” he corrected. “I’m no Hero.”
Emily frowned. His stance gave a strong indication that it was probably best to drop the subject, and not pry further into what life was probably like at the Guild. She shifted uncomfortably for a moment.
“So…” she tried to continue, “are you here to stay?”
Fable looked up at her, blinking a few times before shifting in his chair and leaning against the table. He laced his fingers and looked down at the wood between his arms.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I didn’t think there’d be anything here for me to come back to.”
“So why did you come?”
“To find Theresa,” he said, letting out a sigh. “Seemed like a good place as any to search.”
“I’m afraid I have not heard anything,” Emily admitted. “All those that were found were buried, your father included, but I’ve not heard anything about Theresa, or your mother.”
Fable gave an absent nod. If she wasn’t buried than either she’s alive… or was never found…
Emily pulled the kettle from the fire and set it on the hearth in front of the fireplace. She then spooned out some stew for her and Fable and joined him at the table. She had hardly sat down and started her own meal when Fable had finished his.
“You really were hungry,” she commented with a smirk.
Fable blushed, his lips twitching into a small sheepish smile. “I told you, I hadn’t eaten since yesterday.”
Emily took his empty bowl and filled it once more. While he downed it almost as quickly as the first, it seemed to sate him. She did not have to get up again before she finished her meal.
“Thank you, Emily,” Fable said as she set down her spoon. “That was the best meal I’ve had for some time.”
“You’re welcome,” she smiled.
Outside, the world had darkened, save for the light of the moon overhead.
Fable watched the window for a moment, feeling somewhat conflicted. While part of him wanted to stay longer… “I should probably be on my way,” Fable said, standing.
Emily nodded, though her disappointment was not well hidden. “How long will you be staying in town?” she timidly asked.
“I don’t know,” Fable admitted.
“Well, Alan will be in town for a while. I’m sure he’d like to see you before you leave.”
“I’ll be sure to,” Fable promised. “Thank you, Emily. It was good to see you.” He smiled at her.
“And you,” she said, walking him to the door. “Goodnight, Fable.”
Fable slowly strolled away from her house and down the path back towards the tavern. The moon lit the path before him, just managing to peek through the trees by the road. As he approached the tavern, the sounds of voices started to intrude upon the calm chirps of the night. By the time he reached the tavern’s door, however, the voices became clear; his companion was recounting tales of their recent adventures, with much embellishment.
He peeked in through the door, seeing Sid perched upon a barstool… somehow… “An’ in one hit, that troll melted into the ground!” Sid raised his mug. “An’ then my companion turns to me and exclaims ‘Sid, ‘ow did yeh do that?’ And I, modest as I was, just said, ‘no need to thank me. I am ‘ere t’ ‘elp’.”
Shaking his head with an amused smirk, Fable pushed in through the door and started toward his rather inebriated mercenary. His smirk only grew as he took note of the barman falling asleep at the counter.
Sid turned, his senses apparently not dulled by drink, eyes landing upon the approaching person… somewhat…
“’allo, Fabe,” he said. His nose and cheeks were quite rosy and Fable was sure that his eyes were not entirely focused on him.
“You okay?” Fable asked.
“I’m greeeaaat!!” Sid exclaimed. “Barman, more beer!”
The sleepy barman stirred, taking another mug and filled it.
“I think you’ve had plenty,” Fable said, placing a hand on Sid’s shoulder, which was immediately knocked away.
“Don’t chastise me, ‘ero. I drink ‘owever much I want!” Sid snapped.
Fable raised his hand in a combination of defense and resignation, and let his companion be.
Beside the bar was the staircase which led to the upstairs beds. Fable placed coin on the bar for his bed and headed up. He reached the top of the landing and saw the sleeping quarters were set up differently than that of Bowerstone’s. Rather than a large room for various beds and tables, it was more of a hallway with beds lined up side by side.
Spying an empty bed at the end of the row, Fable made his way towards it and flopped down. He did not bother removing his boots, satchel or any other pointy part of his attire before his head hit the pillow and he was asleep.
In his world as he slept, he saw her again, his sister, playing in the field near the town’s entrance. He approached, and her auburn red hair glistened in the sun. But… that was not her hair. It was fire! He turned. The greenery of the world washed away into a sea of red blazes and standing bodies. He ran. They fell at his feet, eyes black and empty. The raiders followed behind them with their skull faces and glowing red eyes.
Fable reached for his sword, but it was not on his back. In fact, he had no armor at all. The raiders and the corpses rose around him as if he was shrinking. He turned to run only to see his father’s corpse in front of him, in front of their house.
He ran to it and fell to his knees. He shook the body and then it rolled over, grabbing Fable by the throat.
“You’re next!” it shouted.
Fable sat up with a start, nearly screaming as he did so. He scrambled to his feet, reaching to his back to be sure his sword was in its place. He was still in his leather armor. Taking in a deep breath sigh of relief, he wiped the sweat from his face and sat on the bed. After a few breaths, he was still shaky, but had his wits again. He looked around the room to see if his mercenary friend was with him. When he did not spy him, he noticed that the light coming in from the window was a deep blue.
Sunrise, Fable thought. Carefully, he got up, ensured the bed had not been too horrifically thrashed, and made his way downstairs, where he found Sid passed out at the bar. Fable sighed and shook his head, the moment’s amusement chasing away the night’s gloom, if only a tad.
Letting him be, the Hero left the tavern, unaware that Sid was not as passed out as he seemed.
Fable made his way up the path toward Emily’s house, but turned left past a smaller oak tree and proceeded up the hill towards the cemetery. The black iron gates of the cemetery rested between a cliff face and a large stone. It had always seemed strange to him that the only protected alcove of the whole area was dedicated to the dead, but he supposed they needed to be put somewhere. He gently pushed the gate open, the iron giving a light squeak of protest, and walked in.
A short way past the gate, the path split. One went up to the left, the other down to the right, each ending at a crypt. Head high stone walls, some of which were broken, and the occasional black iron fence surrounded and divided the cemetery. Each path had branching alcoves with differing numbers of graves resting within. The upper crypt included more ornate decoration, in the form of two gargoyle statues.
At the fork in the path stood a tall statue of a man wielding an ax, a man strongly resembling Fable’s memories of his father.
He approached a stone monument, looking up at the statue of his father standing as if he were about to cut down some unseen enemy. Fable snorted and shook his head. His father was no warrior. Strong and capable, yes, but no warrior. He turned his gaze to the ground before him, his boot scuffing at the dirt. What does one say to a tombstone? He’d heard of ghosts, but somehow, he doubted his father’s would be lingering around. He reached into a side pouch, pulling out an old coin to flip over in his fingers. A leftover trinket from a time long passed, a time to which he wished he could return. He heard his father’s voice in his head. “Be a good lad.” That was all his father ever asked of him. Fable looked down at the coin, continuing to roll it around his fingers. It had dulled with age, but it was the last thing his father gave him, when he needed some money to buy his sister a birthday present.
“I’m doing my best,” Fable said aloud. “I’ll find them. I promise.”
He turned away, his chest tightening.
Upon exiting the cemetery, he saw a fellow dressed in mercenary garb heading up the path toward him. However, his attire was more cream colored than black, like Sid’s.
“Good day,” he said, giving Fable a nod.
Fable gave a nod in return as the two men passed each other. A few steps on, he stopped, his mind fully realizing what the man was wearing. Emily mentioned that Alan was a mercenary. The man resembled the boy is some small way, but it was hard to tell. His hair was short golden blond and he sported a matching light goatee, complimenting his outdoors tanned skin. But those piercing blue eyes were not mistakable.
“Hold up,” he said, turning back to face the man.
The man turned around. “Yes?”
“Alan?” Fable asked.
“That is I.” The mercenary paused, eyes squinting a bit as he leaned forward slightly. “Wait… Fable?”
“My, it is good to see you!” Alan exclaimed with a beaming smile, quickly closing the distance between them, clasping Fable by the forearm, and giving him a gentle smack on the shoulder.
“A mercenary?” Fable inquired, again looking over his garb.
Alan gave a small shrug. “There is true honor in work.”
“I suppose a crate carrier isn’t exactly the most exciting,” Fable said with a nod.
Alan shook his head. “Not when there are people to help.”
“Only when the pay is good,” came a gruff, raspy voice.
The pair turned to see a slightly indignant Sid. Fable smiled. “Sid, this is-.”
“Alan,” Sid said flatly.
“Sid,” Alan replied in equal tone.
Fable looked between the two for a moment. “You two know each other?” he finally asked.
“All mercenaries know one another,” Alan explained. “There aren’t that many of us.”
“Some of us feel there’s too many,” Sid commented, glowering at Alan with arms crossed at his chest.
Fable continued to look between the two, who seemed to just be glowering at one another. Finally, he had enough, looking to Alan. “So, Alan, what brought you up to the cemetery?”
“I felt I should come and pay my respects for those who lost their lives in that dreadful bandit raid all those years ago. At least before I headed out.” Alan answered in a pleasant manner. He then followed up with a more somber tone. “I’m sorry about your family.”
“Yours as well,” Fable replied.
“Oh, it’s all right.” Alan gave a gentle smile. “My mother lived up to a few years ago.”
Fable nodded, recalling that Alan was fatherless from an early age. “That was fortunate.”
Alan nodded in agreement.
“Yes, yes I’m sure all this recapping is all wonderful and all,” Sid interrupted, “but there are people t’ kill.”
“What kind of heartless beast are you?” Alan asked surprised and indignant.
“One that ‘as a job t’ do,” Sid retorted, turning to Fable. “That Maze bloke from Bowerstone wants t’ talk t’ yeh. Says ‘e ‘as news.”
Fable’s eyebrows jumped and without another word he made a quick pace for the tavern. Sid and Alan glowered at each other once more, then jogged off after him.
The old wizard stood near the oak outside of the tavern, looking mildly pleased to see Fable. Or, at least, mildly pleased to see Fable finally arrive.
“Ah, there you are,” Maze said. “I thought you were getting a bit too famous to be seen ‘round here.”
“What the devil does that mean?” Fable asked. “And what of Theresa?”
“I have heard little more of your sister, and there’s nothing more I can do,” Maze sighed, leading the pair towards the beach to the right of the tavern. Fable’s now two followers were little deterred, keeping a close distance from Fable, and a healthy distance between each other.
“There is hope though. There is a blind seeress that lives among Twinblades’ bandit clan. She may be able to tell you about your sister.”
“A blind seeress?” Fable questioned.
“The seeress stands next to the bandit king himself and it’s no coincidence the bandits have been doing so well lately.” Maze glanced down at Fable. “Have you heard of Twinblade? He was a Hero once. Yes, giant of a man. He had little patience for the Guild though. He left and brought together a dozen bandit factions.” He paused, but Fable remained silent. “I always suspected he was responsible for the attack on your home. This could be your chance for revenge. The camp can’t be far from here. The village is often under attack. Looks like you’ll be taking care of the problem.” The wizard handed Fable a quest card.
Before Fable could ask him another question, Maze vanished in an orb of blue light, leaving the young Hero to stare dumbfounded at the now empty space. His mind started to catch up with the flurry of information Maze had thrown at him. “He was a Hero once,” Maze had said. “Responsible for the attack on your home.”
The previous night’s dream crept into the edges of his perception.
Sid marched up. “So what now, boss?” he asked, clasping his hands behind his back and rocking up on his toes. But the mercenary shrunk back slightly at the dark look on Fable’s face.
“We’re going to find that seeress and she’s going to tell us everything she knows. Then we’re going to annihilate every last bandit in that camp,” Fable growled, venom in his voice. He felt his forearms tighten with the strong urge to punch something in the face. “If the Guild thinks they can just sit back and let this continue to happen, then they have another thing coming! I’ll not see this place burn a second time.”
As much as Sid enjoyed Fable’s newfound interest in total destruction, even he recognized that they still needed to know where to go. “That quest card say where t’ start?” he asked.
“There’s an entrance near the beach,” Fable said.
“I know where that is,” Alan meekly spoke up. When Sid and Fable’s attention were on him, he continued, reaching out to point along the beach away from the tavern. “Down where the shore ends, there’s a cave where they would sometimes come. I and a few others have held them off to a degree, but there aren’t enough of us for a full on assault.”
“Not until now,” Fable said, walking in the direction Alan indicated.
Sid and Alan followed the Hero down the beach. With their resolve strong and their blood hot, the three entered the cave.
