Well... hello there! I know what you're thinking, and you're right. I've completely skipped over the entire Lost Chapters bit. Hey, what did you expect? I threw Anonymous in a freakin' hole! Anyway, rather than think of some way to reverse his fate, I've decided to travel 500 years or so into the future to a mystical world! A world where the common folks' accents still make you want to rip your hair out. Where hobbes are still cuddly homicidal midgets and balverines still refuse to accept you among their lot. A world still consumed by the stupidity of the average "hero". Most importantly, a world that STILL sucks. That's right. You heard me.
Life in Albion Still Sucks - Chapter 1
The glistening projectile entered the atmosphere at mind-boggling speeds, spiralling through the clouds with a faint whistling noise. Sunlight glanced off its pearly white exterior, perhaps the only thing that made it stand out from the falling snow on that chilly winter morning. Time seemed to stand still as the object closed in on its target far below, a tiny brown-colored patch among the grey stone that made up the city of Bowerstone. Finally, the moment of truth was at hand. The rancid missile landed with a plop upon the head of a small orphan boy.
For those of you who have lost track of the situation, that was a narrative about bird shit.
Sparrow: ............!
The boy's older sister Rose looked at him with a look of disgust and, fighting back the completely understandable urge to laugh at the punk's utter misfortune, attempting to console him.
Rose: Ugh... well look on the bright side. At least it wasn't a brick like last month. Speaking of which, have you remembered how to talk yet?
Sparrow: .........
Rose: You're right... I guess I should just be thankful that you've regained control of your bowels.
At that moment, a clamor erupted from the nearby square. Rose turned her head in the direction of the noise.
Rose: Do you hear that? It sounds like some relatively uninteresting event placed conveniently nearby to advance the plot!
And so, Rose and Sparrow set off to investigate the sound. They arrived in the square to find a large crowd gathered around a trader's cart. The trader was rambling on about his wares in an unsurprisingly lisp-heavy voice.
Trader with a lisp: Hewwo boys and guws! I'm a twadah! I wandah da wowd buying and sewwing wares to..
*Ahem*
Trader with a lisp: Oh, wight. What I meant to thay wath that I am a bwand new nevah before seen twadah who you have nevah seen before... and I was not in Fable one at aww. Now, wet me diwect your attention to my fine wares! Here I have a magical miwwow that is guawanteed to make you poor.
Man in crowd: I'll give you all my money for it!
Trader with a lisp: It'th a deal!
Man in crowd: Hooray!
Trader with a lisp: And ovah here ith a magic muthic box. Aww you have to do ith turn the handle three timeth, and it wiww wuin your life fowevah and advance the pwot graduawwy.
Sparrow: I can't understand a word he's say-...
All of a sudden, a cloaked woman standing nearby spun on her heels and delivered a swift kick to the orphan boy's throat.
Woman: SHUTTHEHELLUPYOUDON'TGETTOTALK! NOW SIT DOWN!
Sparrow simply remained unconscious in the snow. The woman directed her attention to Rose.
Woman: BUY THE BOX! BUY IT! BUUUY IT!
Rose: Look, I can see your eyes are bad, but...
Woman: BUY IT!
Rose: That box is obviously...
Woman: BUY IT!
Rose: Rubbish.
By this point, the woman had wandered off into a corner to chew on a stray cat. Rose helped her brother off the ground and sighed.
Rose: Well, I don't really want to make her angry. Let's round up the money through various extremely simple odd jobs that we never thought to do in the past in order to pay for things like food, shelter, and clothing so that we can pay for this stupid little trinket that will ruin all our lives for the sake of plot progression.
Sparrow: ......
With that, the two of them set off to find some way to raise five gold coins.
Meanwhile, in the far reaches of space, a small vessel spiraled through the cosmos. The ship had taken a beating, and to anyone who could have seen it, it would appear as though nothing could be alive within it. However, there was one being remaining within the ship. A being of immense power. A creature with the strength and courage of a thousand men. And this being was currently being yelled at by his commanding officer.
Commanding officer: Chief! What the hell are you doing on that ship?!
Chief: Sir... finishing this fight...
Commanding officer: What in blazes are you talking about?! Fight's over! We won! You can come back now, there is no more fight!
Chief: You don't understand. I'm finishing this fight that I didn't start but I'm going to finish, despite the fact that I didn't start it, because finishing unstarted fights that would be finished before they started is how people who finish started fights can start to finish what they started.... and fight... to the finish.... so I'm finishing this fight.
The line remained silent for a moment.
Commanding officer: O....kay. Just be back in time for Halo 4.
Chief: Richard.
Commanding officer: It's Roger.
Chief: Whatever.
The ship continued to drift toward its destination. A small desolate planet at the edge of the galaxy. Its path led toward a tiny lush continent that the inhabitants of the world knew as Albion.
Back in Albion...
Rose: I can't believe how easy that was! Who knew you could make so much money off of underground rock, paper, scissors tournaments?
Sparrow walked behind her, dragging several thousand gold in a tattered potato sack.
Sparrow: ...................!
Rose: I know! We'll never be hungry again!
At that moment, a giant metallic object fell from the sky, landing with a crash upon the enourmous sack of gold and obliterating it at once. As Sparrow looked on with a look of utter hopelessness, the door to the ship slid open and made way for the green clad figure within. The armored fiend stepped out into the new world and took a brief look around before saying...
Chief: I'm defenitely not in Kansas anymore... for that matter, I'm not in Halo anymore. Wait, where am I from? Where am I now? Who are you?
The being directed his attention to the two orphans, who were desperately attempting to find any leftover coins. Between the two of them, they managed to recover only 5 of the countless shinies that they had earned. The Chief, figuring it wouldn't be wise to anger the tots further, backed away slowly and set off to find and destroy any and all Covenant operations in Albion (there were none).
Rose: Well... at least we can buy the music box now.
Sparrow: ........................
The orphans made their way back to the trader to purchase the box. With the magical instrument in their posession, they returned to their small corner of the city and placed the music box on a... regular box.
Rose: Alright Sparrow. Turn the handle!
The boy nodded and slowly wound up the music box, causing it to emit a slow-paced, eerie song into the winter air. This continued for several moments before the box exploded without warning, throwing the boy backward against a wall and knocking a loose brick from the structure. The stone crashed down on the boy's head, knocking him out cold.
At that same moment, something nefarious was stirring in the residence of Lord Lucien, who was apparently the mayor of Bowerstone or something. I still can't tell...
Lucien stared out the window and down at the city, brooding like an emo as his butler enterred the room.
Jeeves: You rang sir?
Lucien: Ah, Jeeves. I have something I wish to ask you.
Jeeves sighed heavily.
Lucien: Would you send for a pair of seemingly unimportant orphans for me? I need to shoot them. I mean... meet them.
Jeeves: Of course, sir.
The butler exited the room, allowing his Lord to return to his brooding.
Back on the streets of Bowerstone...
Guard: Wake up! Hey, I said wake up! Lord Lucien wants a word with you!
Sparrow lifted his head slowly, though his skull still throbbed from the impact of hitting the wall. He took note of his surroundings. Night had fallen, and a small handful of guards had arrived at the small shelter that he and his sister called home.
Guard: Good. He's up. Grab him and let's get going.
The two guards accompanying the one that spoke gripped Sparrow by the arms and dragged him to his feet. He wobbled after them as they walked down the path leading to the square, and continued to trail behind them all the way to Fairfax Castle.
Upon their arrival, the orphans were greeted by the butler, Jeeves. Jeeves greeted them warmly and began leading them through the castle toward Lord Lucien's study.
Jeeves: And most importantly, you must never, EVER mention Lady Fairfax or Amelia. Also, do not touch the plants. Oh, and no jumping on the beds. Also, no spray-painting the walls of the bathroom unfortunate colors.
Rose: Jeeves, can I ask you something?
Jeeves: MOTHER OF GOD, NO!
With that, the usually stoic butler tossed himself out of a nearby window. Rose shrugged and gestured for her brother to follow her the rest of the way to Lucien's study. Uon arriving, she pushed open the heavy oak door and stepped inside.
Rose: Hello? My Lord?
Lucien turned his head and grinned at the children before stepping away from his desk to greet them.
Lucien: Children! It has come to my attention that you have recently purchased a magical exploding box designed to advance the plot and ruin everybody's life. I find that fantastic. Also, you're heroes. Is that not magnificent?
He chuckled heartily and they all had a jolly good time... for about three seconds. Then the prick pulled a gun on the two of them and, after a brief and most certainly heartfelt apology, he shot Rose for no reason in particular and chucked poor Sparrow out the nearby window. Now does that not seem overly mean and completely uncalled for to you? It did to me.
Sparrow tumbled through the air toward the snowy streets below. He whacked his head on a nearby rooftop before stopping with a thud in the middle of the road. As he lay in the snow, a shadowy figure approached him. As she drew near, she kicked him in the side and said...
Shadowy figure: IF YOU DIE I'MA MESS YOU UP, DAWG!
The figure picked Sparrow up off the ground and carried him out of the city, and into the wilds of Bower Lake. Days passed, and the boy remained in some sort of coma common among those who have been dropped out of windows. After what seemed like an eternity, Sparrow opened his eyes to find himself in an unfamiliar caravan. Standing over his bed was the old woman he had seen near the trader's stall. As soon as he awoke, she grabbed him and pulled him out of the bed, throwing him across the room and against a nearby wall.
Woman: YOU'RE ALIVE! WOOT! GYPSY NUMBER TWELVE OWES ME TEN GOLD!
Sparrow rubbed his head and tried to take in his surroundings. It appeared as though he had been taken to a gypsy village somewhere on the fringe of the Bower Lake region. The woman was staring at him intently and making him feel increasingly uncomfortable, particularly whenever she threw something at him (which, periodically, she did).
Woman: MY NAME IS THERESA! YOU'RE GOING TO BE A HERO AND KILL STUFF AND MAKE AWESOME-TIMES AGAIN! GO OUTSIDE AND LEARN HOW TO FIGHT!
She lunged forward and grabbed him again, then delivered a swift kick to his arse, sending him sprawling out the door. She slammed the door and proceeded to do... whatever it is Theresa does in her spare time.
Sparrow wandered around the camp for awhile, meeting the local gypsies and trying to recall the events that had led him here. The locals directed him to a small sparring ring near the shops where he was meant to learn the ways of the sword. Sparrow headed in that direction and found the ring, along with an assortment of rusty blades, maces, axes, and crossbows set in a large wooden rack. He selected a blade and stepped into the ring, looking around for his opponent. Before long he appeared, and Sparrow couldn't believe his eyes. The figure towered above him, standing almost seven feet tall. He was clad head to toe in green plate which left no part of his body uncovered. His eyes were hidden behind a shining golden visor, and clutched in his gloved hand was a multi-colored two-pronged blade that seemed to be glowing faintly. Sparrow recognized him immediately as the arsehole from town. The man stepped into the middle of the ring and raised his blade.
Man: I am Master Chief Petty Officer John-117... but everyone calls me Hal...
Sparrow: .............
Hal: Okay... so... nobody actually calls me Hal... but you're gonna call me Hal.
Sparrow: ..................?
Hal: Because law suits are unpleasant experiences kid... now get your sword up.
With that, Sparrow fell over laughing at the unintended innuendo. Accordingly, Hal sprinted forward and kicked the boy back into a coma.
It was going to be a long decade.
Whew. I was actually starting to miss writing this stuff! Fortunately, those geniuses at Lionhead have given me a whole new game to gradually pick apart and splatter all over the metaphorical pavement. A few notes now... first off, the dog has not made its appearance yet, I know. Don't worry, I'll throw him in their somehow. Two, I understand that master chief was never a big part of your life in the game, in fact the only thing he ever did was apparently leave his armor and sword for owners of the special addition to use, but you know what? Sticking to the plot is for people with a firm grasp on reality. Finally, I FREAKING LOVE THIS GAME. It's going to be fun finding every little naggy thing wrong with it. That's all for now, I'm hoping to punch a new chapter out soon. In the meantime I find it important to state that, contrary to popular belief...
I am STILL at one with nuggets...