Just Like Mother

Summary: Because the similarities between him and Scarlet Robe were more than just bloodline. Based on the original Fable.

Chapter: 1

Rating: T

Genre: Romance/Adventure

A/N: This is my first shot at a Fable fic. This is based off the original Fable game, since I unfortunately do not have an Xbox 360 to go play Fable II. -teartear- The fic is going to be a trilogy - only 3 chapters. So I hope you enjoy the first installment! c:


Just Like Mother

Fight


"Look! Over there!"

"It's him!"

"Oh, what has caused the great Warrior to grace us with his presence in?"

The traders scuffled over to the figure that appeared. The man they called Warrior stopped his stride and grinned at them all, waving his hand from under his leather gloves. His blue eyes crinkled in delight and he put his sword that he was carrying away. "Hello," his deep voice rang. He soon found himself surrounded by eager traders.

"Warrior, would you like buy some food?"

"No," the trader was pushed out of the way by another, holding vile. "He'd like to buy some potions, correct?"

"He wants a haircut so his bangs don't get in the way of his glorious fights!"

"No, a tattoo to show off to his many lady admirers!"

Warrior was an incredibly large man and he had to peer down at the traders that all circled around him, offering him sales. He put up his hands. "Gentlemen, I would love to have them all." The traders cheered and Warrior sighed to himself. Traders. Whether it's in Greatwood Forest, Barrow Fields, or here, they were all the same. He got out his money bag; quite full from finishing up his last quest from the Guild.

After buying the many apples, potions, and even managing to get a phoenix tattoo, he was waiting for his haircut to get done as the traders bombarded him with questions.

"Is it true that you spared Whisper in the arena?" "We heard Scarlet Robe is your mother!" "Just how many pretty ladies have you taken to your shack?" Laughs, shoulder prodding, winks, and freshly cut black hair became apart of the circle around him. Warrior was polite as a hero could be, and answered all their questions while trying not to get annoyed at the growing number of rumors about the number of ladies he had shagged.

"Why are you here in Witchwood Stones, hero?"

"The Temple of Avo," Warrior replied, shaking the hands with the trader who had just cut his hair. "Wanted to go just for a visit - I give them a little donation every now and then." He unsheathed his sword and turned to the traders, waving. "I must get going now. Good day." The hero began walking away from them.

"Oh, he's so generous! Giving to the temple!" Warrior could hear the traders behind him in awe. He chuckled to himself before he stopped in his tracks. He heard the screams coming from the men he had talked to moments ago. They were screaming about something up ahead.

He could hear the ear piercing howl and the low growls before he saw the ragged black come out from behind the trees to meet Warrior. Dark eyes looming over him, the Balverine snarled, it's blood stained teeth peeked out from under it's lips. The traders behind the hero deathly gripped their belongings and sprinted down the opposite pathway, and soon only left Warrior facing the beast. His grip around his sword's hilt tightened only slightly; he wasn't afraid of the Balverine. He had dealt with many of them before and he suspected that this one would be no different.

As though routine for him, Warrior lifted up his sword and beckoned the creature forward with his hand; as if mocking it. Come on big fellow. And before he could get another look at the Balverine, it swiftly jumped up and was in front of him in a matter of seconds. It always amazed the hero how fast and stealth like Balverines actually were and he dodged it's claws that lashed out viciously. Knowing it's technique wouldn't work the wolf like creature jumped up again. Spinning his head around, Warrior saw no more of the black menace. But it was still there - he knew. Lurking in the shadows to find the perfect moment to strike. Like they always did. While he waited, one of his hands charged up a fiery orange ball; one of the very few Will powers he used. Warrior was more known for his brute strength than some wizard powers after all.

Just as he predicted, the Balverine came back, and it caught the hero off guard as it swooped down behind him and slashed at his back of his head. Warrior stumbled forward from the impact, gritting his teeth at the seering pain that engulfed his head. A common mistake; he cursed himself for it. As his opponent swiftly came up behind him again for another attack, Warrior spun around with the fireball still in his hand and shot it at the Balverine. It quickly backed away, startled, and snarled in pain. The hero knew he had only little time to spare as the creature became distracted and he gripped the hilt of his sword, giving it the final blow to it's neck. It tumbled to the ground, hacking away at the air as though it was slashing at an enemy. With one last breath, the Balverine closed it's eyes and howled - the sound always sending Warrior chills down his spine.

The man walked to the corpse, poking it's side with his foot. He grunted as he touched the back of his head, feeling blood trickle down his hair into his neck. "Damn," he muttered. He let his guard down. The wound wasn't drastic, as other battle scars he had received from being a hero, but it was making him light headed. He needed it to be tended to.

"Knothole Glade isn't far from here," Warrior sighed to himself, inspecting the blood from his fingertips. He turned away and started walking down the pathway again. That is, however, until he heard another familiar growl rising from behind him. Make that growls. Whirling around to face the sounds, Balverines quickly shot out from behind the trees and soon Warrior found himself surrounded. His gripped his sword tightly as he counted them all; seven. He cursed. A Balverine was something the hero could handle - it was seven Balverines all at once trying to rip him to shreds that made him uneasy. Not to mention already seeing stars from his recent wound.

Where the hell did they all come from anyways? Past the creatures surrounding him, he saw the Balverine corpse and soon it struck him. It's death - the howl - it's cry must have made the others come. For him.

"For the love of Skorm," Warrior hissed, bringing up his sword. The creatures before him all bared their teeth before one lunged at his throat. Ominous thunder was heard in the distant.

* * *

Warrior didn't really know how far or how long he managed to stumble along the pathway. He had no idea even where he was. His mind was too fuzzy to decipher any of his surroundings. It was a miracle that he even saw the last standing Balverine before he lunged his sword into it's chest. How long ago was it since that battle? Ten minutes ago - an hour? Again, he did not know. He halted and sat down - whether it was in the middle of the dirt road or on the side. He didn't know. All Warrior knew was that he just needed rest.

His whole body ached from the beatings he had received from the Balverines. They held no mercy for a hero like me, he thought smugly as he touched the hole in his armor. He felt his wounded skin from under it, remembering the enemy's claws slashing away at his chest before his tough material deteriorated away. Warrior could feel the wind touch parts of his skin on his back - probably other holes in his clothing from the other six Balverines. The hero's gloves made way to his face, and he winced as he felt slasher marks that ran down his whole face.

That's going to scar. He gritted his teeth in anger. Careless, he barked in his mind, that's what I was today. He pounded the ground with his fist, pain shooting up in his arm. The sun blinded him and instead of cursing at himself, he found he was squinting at the sky, noticing the sunset. It would have been pretty if not for his predicament. The sunset meant that soon night would fall. With night came more creatures to lurk about, and take advantage of his weak state. Warrior knew if he didn't get to Knothole Glade before nightfall, the hero couldn't predict his fate being in the dark, wounded.

He had to get up and start moving again. Despite his muscles' pleas, he bent his legs and stood up. His sight went foggy from the sudden movement, and he could feel himself stumbling until he found himself on all fours, on the ground yet again. Not giving up, he tried to stand up; more slowly this time. When he was finally up, Warrior put one foot in front of the other and managed to walk a few yards.

That was before his mind began fuzzing again and his legs gave way. He fell on his back and he shouted out curses. It was getting darker. If Knothole Glade wasn't far, surely by now someone would have found him. But no one had and he heard no sounds like those of humans. Warrior only hoped he could survive throughout the night. He tried to reassure himself - he was Warrior after all. Arena Champion, Bowerstone Jail Survivor, Scarlet Robe's son -

Scarlet Robe. He looked up at the sky. Wasn't her last battle with Balverines? The hero smirked. Maybe it will turn out to be like mother like son. Except I won't be saved by a common woodsman anytime soon -

He could feel droplets on his forehead. Rain. He laughed grimly to himself. "How fitting," he murmured as it started to pour down from the sky. It fell from heavens right onto his face, and the blood from his wound seeped out onto his cheeks and mouth. Dirt soon turned into mud, and it clung to the hero. Warrior's mind was getting foggy again. He knew he was starting to hallucinate as he thought he saw a figure up ahead. He knew his mind was playing tricks as his ears heard footsteps rushing towards him. Blood began to sting his eyes and he shut them tightly. Soon, he was taken over by unconsciousness.


To Be Continued...


A/N: That was my very first time ever writing "a fight scene", and that's also why I skipped out on giving you the details of all 7 Balverines vs. dear Warrior; in case you were wondering, ahaha. Hope you liked it and stay tuned for the next chapter! c: