After years of study and hard training in the Hero's Guild, Sabre, mistress of the sword was ready to emerge as a true warrior. An expert fighter, a skilled archer and trained in the ways of Will. Tall, toned, with a deceptively beautiful face, she thought she was Avo's gift to the world. She excitedly ran to the map table, eager to begin her first quest. And stopped. No quest cards? She looked at the aged Guildmaster, her mentor and trainer since she was little.
'Where are the quest cards?'
'I'm sorry, Sabre, but it appears they have all been taken'.
Sabre's face looked so disappointed, that the Guildmaster hastily said, 'Why don't you try exploring the world a bit first, get to know the people, help out with little things?'
'I'm a Hero! Not some goody two-shoes who helps old ladies get their cats out of trees! I want a real adventure!'
She knew she sounded childish, but she didn't care. After being cooped up in these halls for years, she wanted out. Questing her life away, becoming famous, maybe marrying a legendary, handsome hero…
She could be like Assassin, the most feared killer the Guild had ever produced, or maybe like Liberator, celebrated among the populace for his grace and combat prowess.
'I want to form the ultimate Hero team ever to be seen!' she screeched at the recoiling Guildmaster, who was sprayed by her spittle.
'A huge hulk of a man that can chop down ancient oaks with one swing of his great axe, a mysterious and shadowy sorcerer who can bend the elements to his will, a tall and true archer who's aim is only matched by his guile and cunning. And of course, me, the beautiful and deadly Sabre, a master of all disciplines, an immortal goddess who will be adored by all the people of Albion, and men will bow at her feet! Where can I find three hero's like I described? There are a dozen Hero's out there, I must find three that will quest with me. An entourage, if you will.'
'Most of our hero's are already busy on quests, or are completing assignments for Maze. However, there are three hero's who are currently idle, perhaps you could talk to them?' Guildmaster replied.
'Excellent, just tell me where to find them'
First, try Bowerstone, where you will find a fighter of some renown. Once you have him, travel to the picnic area, just outside the town to encounter a hermit who holds hidden knowledge. Lastly, visit the enclave of the ancient trader barons of Greatwood to meet the Guild's most wealthy and celebrated merchant.'
'I will, and then, old man, I will be famous, maybe even Guild leader!' she exclaimed brightly, before setting off into Albion.
The Guildmaster shook his head and smirked. So naïve, these graduates.
2
After wandering around Lookout Point, falling into some briars and scratching her arms, being yelled at by a disgusting beggar and almost losing her shoe to a stray dog, Sabre finally reached Bowerstone. It was a slum. Shabby wooden shacks were built up against crumbling houses, stall owners shouted their wares, and dirty children chased each other down the streets. Despite the scenery, everyone seemed happy enough. Well, down to business, she thought. She tapped the nearest guard on the shoulder. He lazily turned and grunted at her. She immediately waved her Guild Seal under his broken nose, and looked at him expectantly. 'Another Guild type I see, come to get your mate have you?'
'I'm here to meet a Guild fighter to quest with me. And show some respect to your betters, you smelly hooligan.'
The insult seemed to have no effect on the guard. 'He's in the tavern up the road, showing his latest trophy off'. For some reason, he seemed to find this amusing, and he hurriedly tried to hide a grin.
'Right then, the ultimate hero team is about to be formed, take note of this most august moment, and….The guard had already walked off down the road.
The tavern wasn't hard too find, given the raucous noise coming from within, and the drunken idiots lurching around outside, some vomiting messily into the bushes. She looked up at the creaking sign. The Cow and Corset. Someone had actually tethered a cow in a corset outside the pub. The corset was ripped, and was only just hanging on. A man clutching a mug of ale was saying in a slur to it 'now you…are the most..hic…prettiest maiden I have ever seen.' He leant in to kiss the cow, missed, and fell headfirst into the sick covered hedge. The cow just carried on chewing cud. She disdainfully stalked past him and entered the tavern, coming face to face with the Hero she sought.
At least, she thought it was his face. Before her stood the most ugliest, vilest man she had laid eyes on. Huge ears, thick blubbery lips, squinting little piggy eyes and a gut that sagged below his waistline. His face was a mass of scars, boils and hair. He grinned, leering at her, showing broken yellow teeth, before dropping his trousers and showing his behind to the patrons. Everyone seemed to be doing their best to ignore him.
Shocked, she grabbed the arm of a passing barmaid. 'Is he from the Guild?'
''Course 'e is. You Guild types can be freaks that's for sure.' She then yanked her arm free, rearranged her blouse to put her cleavage on maximum show, and, smiling began serving drinks to a group of seemingly well off traders.
'Let me show you my trophy'! He drunkenly roared at Sabre. She noted that is breath smelt of a mixture of rotten meats, faecal matter, and undead's armpits. He extricated his trophy from his pocket, which turned out to be a silky pair of ladies underwear. 'Love to see you in these, gorgeous' he slurred at Sabre, before performing a crotch grab.
Sabre was rooted to the spot. This thing was a Hero? It couldn't be. Heroes were supposed to be tall and broad, clean and handsome, with flowing golden locks. This man had no shoulders to speak of, and his grey hair was lankly framing his horrific face.
'Are you a hero?', she managed to squeak.
'Of course! Arseface is the name, never knew why people named me that, but its my title, so I'm sticking to it.'
Had the Guildmaster set her up? Then she heard his voice through the Seal.
'Ah, you have the hero of strength you required. Ask him to follow you, and you can begin your journey to..whatever it is you want to do.'
Sabre, her spirit crushed, miserably told Arseface about her quest and would he like to join her.
'Camping out under the stars, snuggling up each other for warmth, sounds like a treat' he sneered, before reaching out a grubby hand to cup one of her amble breasts.
Before he could make contact, she brought her knee forward into his groin. 'ooohhh' he squeaked highly, clutching at his crotch for the 100th time that day. As his head went down, Sabre brought her first up into an upper-cut, causing Arseface to fall flat on his back.
She then leapt onto him, grabbed a handful of his greasy hair (thank god I'm wearing gloves!) she thought and growled at him 'Next time you try to touch me, you'll find yourself singing soprano in the Bowerstone school choir.
The fact that this bosomy, curvy and beautiful hero was straddling him, clad in tight fitting leather battle attire was just too much for Arseface, and his excitement was noticed by Sabre when she felt something digging into her thigh.
She climbed off of him in disgust, and barked 'lets go', regaining some of her former arrogance. He followed out of the pub without question, with a wicked grin on his dirty face.
3
As they ventured back up through Lookout Point to get to the Picnic Area, Sabre had calmed down enough to talk to Arseface, who was almost back to sobriety after breathing in the fresh country air and hurling over the Bowerstone Bridge. 'So how long have you been in the Guild' She asked.
'About five years, never been more than Unsung around these parts.'
'Why do you act that way? Its not very fitting for a Hero'.
'Because I'm useless' he said gloomily
Sabre couldn't believe the change in character now he was sober.
'I drink and lech because nobody loves me, I haven't properly quested for over a year, and my trophy collection consists of stolen panties from the Bowerstone North nobles. I do it just for attention'. He looked close to tears, and Sabre felt overwhelmingly sorry for the man.
'You poor thing' she said softly. 'You're just down on your luck. Once we gather the others, we will perform quests like no other, and all of Albion will chant our names.'
'Thanks Sabre' he said pitifully. 'You really are a true Hero. Shall we start afresh?' He spread his arms in a gesture of a hug. Although he was still disgusting, pity overwhelmed any reluctance, and she embraced the poor man and whispered 'Everything will be all right'.
'I know it will Sabre, thanks'.
His hands immediately slid down to squeeze her shapely bottom.
Sabre wrenched his groping hands free, and shoved him away.
Arseface roared with laughter. 'Ha ha, you silly tart, didn't expect that did you! He continued laughing until a violent coughing fit brought him up short.
'Remember what I said in Bowerstone? It still holds true, and it will happen when you least expect it'
'Whatever love, you know I can beat you in a melee. You spread yourself across the three hero paths, I've devoted mine to strength.
With that, Sabre stalked away up the hill, Arseface following, still letting out the occasional lecherous giggle, his eyes glued to her behind.
As they walked into the picnic area, Sabre turned to Arseface. 'The hero of Will should be here, his name is Druid, and I'm going to ask him to join our quest. Let me do all the talking. Just shut your mouth and stay downwind.'
'Fine' muttered the thug in a knowing sort of way. Glaring at him suspiciously, Sabre continued on. A couple sitting on a bench watched them approach, two heroes clad in dark leather armour must have been a welcome site, for they got up and the man greeted them 'Hello Heroes, can we help you in any way?' He seemed to have a glazed look in his eyes. 'Yes, we are looking for a wise hermit named Druid, he a Hero from the Guild.
'Ahh, the wise man is over yonder', he pointed to the central area, where they could make out a form lying on one of the tables.
'Thank you, friends' she replied. She hesitated, then decided to strike a Hero Pose. Hands on hips, breasts outthrust, chin up, and exclaiming a bold 'ha!'. The couple began cheering and clapping. As they moved on, Sabre felt immensely proud of herself. Finally, things are going the way they should. With a wise advanced will user travelling with us, we will avoid all sorts of danger, she thought.
As they came onto the table, they saw Druid, lying flat out on his back on top of the table, his hands behind his head, staring at the sky. The sun was out, and gentle cool breeze in the air. It was so relaxed, that Sabre thought she would stay here forever. She looked lazily over at Arseface, who dreamily looked back at her. 'Maybe he's not so bad looking?' she thought. Druid was dressed in a light brown simple rope, and was shoeless. He had massively long platinum hair and a matching beard so thick you could barely discern his face.
'Greetings travellers' he said languidly, not looking at them.
His very words seemed to drip with knowledge.
'Are you here to see the truth?'
'Yes sir' replied Sabre. She just felt so content.
'Then look up at the sky with me', he replied.
Sabre sat on the bench that ran one side of the table and lay back in mimicry of Druid. She was aware that Arseface had taken up the same position of the other side. Together, the three of them looked skyward.
Slowly, druid pointed his sun-kissed hand skyward and said 'see that cloud, looks like a chicken, doesn't it?'
And it did! Sabre had never seen a cloud so lifelike. Just like a real chicken. And, she noticed, the cloud behind it looked like a boot, kicking the chicken.
She said her thoughts out loud.
'Oh yeah, so it does!' drawled Arseface.
'You are learning, young padawan' said Druid wiseley.
'What's a padawan? Asked sabre.
'Who knows man….trailed off Druid.
Sabre was aware of movement around them.
'Then why did you call it me? Sabre was beginning to feel more on edge, as if awakening from a dream.
'What's going on, she said, and suddenly sat up. The world lurched, and when it came to again, she screamed and kicked out, for a huge man was busy stuffing his many pockets with items from their packs. Her foot collided with the man and he fell back with an earth-shattering thud.
The man was the biggest person Sabre had seen. Hugely tall, and immensely fat, his head was completely bald, making him look like an egg, with a smaller egg on top. Big saucer eyes the colour of the sky they had just been watching bored into hers, and his face slit into a huge smile that Sabre swore could have swallowed her whole.
'The newest Guild graduate' he announced in a disconcertingly high voice.
'Guildmaster said I would find you here. You're on a quest, right? I will join you, maybe this is just the thing to get me back in the good graces of the common folk.'
Sabre drew her crossbow and pointed it at him. 'Who the hell are you, and why are you stealing from us?' Sabre realised that all the time he was talking he was still taking things from their packs and putting them in the pockets of voluminous pea green coat.
'Let me introduce myself. I am Piemaster, expert thief and a Hero of some renown.
'I've heard of you! You used to make pies, drug them, and sell them! Then, when your patrons were knocked you, you would rob them blind!' You're the skill hero I seek?'
Arseface was fuming. 'I say we kill fatty and take everything he has. We could sell it on and be rich!.
Druid still hadn't moved. In fact, we was gabbling on about chocolate hobbes and talking doors. He didn't sound wise at all.
'So you found old Druid then, poor chap'.
What's wrong with him?' asked Arseface.
'Addicted to blue mushrooms, thinks he lives with the summer fairies in a place called Happy Town. I guess some Heroes just have addictive personalities. Quite pathetic really' finished Piemaster, still loading his pockets.
'Put the stuff back tubby, or I'll take it back. Why do you keep doing it?' she asked exhaustedly.
'Errm, I happen to be a kleptomaniac. Sorry.'
'!'
Sabre screamed. The birds fled the trees, rabbits ran into their holes. All of the recent events had finally caught up with her. She had found her three Heroes. A lecherous ugly thug who could be smelt from the next town, a mushroom addled hippy who's will abilities seemed non-existent, and an overweight, disgraced thief who was likely to take the clothes from their back while they slept and run off.
Where they really heroes? Was Sabre dreaming? If she wasn't, what quest would they undertake to make up for their very big flaws?
She had a headache just thinking about it.