FABLE

ACT 1

The Last Spades

A young boy walked the narrow lined pass of Grivengreer Forest, known by the villagers to be a sacred holy land, but for Ferald Longweep, there was no such thing as a sacred land. All that had been sacred was now tarnished by the greed of the king whose reign over Albion would seem to never end. He was not the most noble of kings, rather he fortuned gold and honor, not worrying about his kingdom...to chose such a king, how ignorant the man had to be! Though Ferald never went into politics he knew something had to be done, the government was acting strangely suspicious, allowing the king to sell half of Albion to the barbarians of the east. Fierce warriors ruled by an emperor known as Rombius. He bore the scar of the sparrow on his face. A thick scar traveling down towards his shallow chin. His man seemed even worse though, tyrant warriors with thick iron shield and helmets made out of gold, they were known to all Albion as "the reapers." It seemed that Albion had fallen to dark times, and for nobody to save the land of Albion, it was helplessly doomed.

Ferald stopped halfway through the forest, he always did, for this was the place where his family was killed! Beaten to death by bandits for 2 pieces of gold. The laughs still echoed through out Feralds mind, there faces hinged in blood...there corpses rotting on the grass and vines! This was no holy land, this was a grave! And to Ferald a bad, very bad memory. After that Ferald became an orphan, to take care of himself and only himself. He lived a lonely life of pain and suffering but made it through towards his 14th birthday. But with no one to celebrate it with him what was he to do, nothing. Ferald needed no false celebrating of hid damned birth...it was a curse, for because of him his family became poor and filthy, street rats they called them...dirty little street rats!

"Come now man! We march towards Albion" hundreds of soldiers armed in thick iron metal, covered by the fur of a gray wolf. Ferald hid himself behind a tree, good move, For there steps where like earthquakes beating thought out the world, the sound of there armor mimicked those of a thousand harpies! And swords moved silently, as if it were a tiger hunting its prey. "We march...we march to glory!" they shouted as they marched ever on towards the path to Albion. It was hours before they were fully gone and it seemed in his hiding that the sun joined in as well, it was the moons turn to shine across the lands, as well as Feralds. The forest was dark and night and creatures of all sorts came out at these times to hunt, Feralds was not stupid like the king to not fear these beast, they deserved fear, they were fear. His steps were quiet as he crept along the forest, looking bout, scanning the sides of the trees. Howls of wolves came to his ears as he came to be closer towards Grivengreer Village. "Fire fast man!" An arrow grazed the cheek of Ferald, sending him into the side of an oak tree, blood falling from his face. "Alright man, steady your feet, looks like we've got a follower with us!" said one of the warriors with the biggest of all armors. "Wait Callaster you fool! We must not attack any of the people who roam Albion, it could mean a meaningless war" the man who spoke seemed very smart, thought the dying Ferald, but he was not dying, he had just never felt the wounds of the skin before. That would change this night though. "Sorry milord! I should have been more cautious...but he has been following us for hours now, i could fell his tiny steps strecthing on us, did you not feel it yourself Rombius!" The emperor drew his blade to callister "you dare speak my name out loud!" the emperor said as Callister begged for forgiveness.

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