Disclaimer: I do not own the Fable universe or Lionhead studios.

† Part 3 ≈ Bowerstone †

Roland the Bard tried his best to keep his footing as he ran. Panting heavily, he sprinted desperately away from the bandit that chased him. Eyes wide with fear, he tried to not look back at the figure of death behind him. He could hear the man pursuing him; hear his curses, his taunts and the swing of his sword. Tears flowed from his eyes as he wailed in terror, tasting the mucous running down from his nose. He felt a hot, wetness between his legs but he didn't bother to check himself.

"Get back here, you sorry little git!" the bandit screamed. "I promise I'll kill you quickly! Or are you taking me to your mother! She could join in on the fun!"

Roland tried his best to ignore the shouts and focused only on running. Running away. Running away from certain death.

His foot caught on something and he sprawled onto the ground with a shriek. In moments, the bandit was on him.

"There you are!" the bandit roughly grabbed Roland's shoulders and turned him over.

"Please!" Roland wailed. "Just take my gold and go!"

"That's what I was going to do!" the bandit pointed his rusty longsword in Roland's face. "But you decided to run! You made me lose my breath! Now I have to kill you for that!"

Roland saw a grim satisfaction in the bandit's eyes. He saw his own terrified face reflected back at him. As he looked deeper, he saw his own death staring back at him.

Roland wanted to close his eyes, but they forced him to watch the raising sword.

"You little girl, soiling yourself all over the place!" The bandit raised his sword up high. "I ought to cut that little bugger off!"

"Well, that is not very nice," came a calm voice from behind.

One second, the bandit looked surprised. The next second, his head was flying through the sky and into the lake. Roland blinked several times in confusion. He watched the headless body drop to the ground with a loud thud. Roland watched as the bandit twitched several times before lying still on the ground. He slowly raised his eyes upwards and through his tears, he saw the shape of a man standing over him.

The man examined his handiwork, head tilted as if he was inspecting his work. Curiously, his head barely had any hair on it. Even his eyebrows were only starting to come in simple fuzz, like he was newly born. His body was well toned with muscle, but Roland saw that they were relatively thin compared to the muscles of the blacksmiths and workers in Bowerstone. But Roland could sense a sort of…hidden power deep within these lean muscles. He wore rather dirty and tattered clothing; the clothes of a simple pauper. Hefted over his shoulder was a gleaming, brownish iron Pickhammer, newly coated with blood.

The man's blue eyes looked up at him, locking onto Roland's eyes. He perked a simple smile.

"You have never seen a man be killed before, have you?" the man asked.

Roland shook his head dumbly.

"Well, now you have," the man stated. He stretched his back. "Nothing like a good swing of your weapon to loosen your muscles."

With a shout of pure glee, he swung the hefty Pickhammer through the air several times, hacking away at invisible enemies. Roland watched with growing awe. He noticed how controlled his swings were. He could tell that whoever this man was, knew exactly how to use a weapon.

The man placed the weapon back onto his back where it disappeared from view.

Wait, did it disappear?

Roland peered closely and sure enough, the Pickhammer was gone. It had simply disappeared from view. One minute it was there and the next…it was just gone.

"Are you going to sit there in your own pee all day?" the man said loudly, shaking Roland out of his confusion.

"Sorry," Roland said abashed.

"Don't be," the man reassured him, chuckling slightly. Roland quickly stood up, wiping dirt off of himself, walking towards the nearby lake. He looked into the water, seeing his reflection, checking for injuries. Seeing none, he looked down at the dark stain on his pants.

"Oh, I'm just pathetic," Roland moaned. "I'll be the laughing stock of Bowerstone if anyone finds out."

The man looked at him for a moment.

Then kicked him into the lake.

Roland sputtered water as he shot back up onto his feet, shaking water off of himself.

"What in blazes was that for!?" Roland shouted.

"Now no one will know," the man commented.

Roland stared at the man for a moment. Then he examined himself and sure enough, the water had hid the stain on his pants effectively well. Now it just looked like he got pushed into the lake. Which he was.

"Who are you?" Roland asked.

"Oh, forgive me, I haven't even introduced myself," the man bowed low to the ground. "My name is Alexander. I am new to these parts, so I do not really know my way around. I am heading towards a place called Bowerstone, if you've heard of it. I heard your cry and saw you be assailed by that bandit so I helped as best as I could. I do hope he didn't hurt you."

Roland stared at him for a moment, put off by his strange speech.

"No," Roland said at last. "You killed him before he could harm me."

"Yes, pity that," Alexander said. "I had originally wanted to only knock him on his arse, but instead his head came clean off. Looks like I do not remember my own strength. Either that, or Wellow's Pickhammer is stronger than I remember and it is the weakest weapon I have."

"Whose pickhammer?" Roland asked, assuming he was referring to his weapon.

"Wellow," Alexander replied. Roland stared blankly, causing Alexander to raise one of his fuzz eyebrows up. "He ruled the northern ridges of the Old Kingdom. His warlords carried pickhammers forged from strong but extremely light metal from hidden mines."

Roland shook his head and Alexander threw his arms in the air in defeat.

"Kid's these days don't know their own history," Alexander groaned exasperatedly.

"I'm sorry, I just don't know what you're talking about," Roland told him.

"It is all fine, I guess," Alexander sighed. "I hope that you are able to guide me to Bowerstone, though. This land is…different than when I last remembered."

"Sure, sure," Roland said. "We just follow this road and we'll eventually make it there."

"Good man," Alexander said. "Shall we?"

Alexander began to walk forward, head held high and broad shoulders back. Roland trailed behind him. Sure enough, the pickhammer that he thought Alexander placed on his back was gone. Just seemed to vanish in mid-air.

"What happened to your weapon?" Roland asked. "Wellow's Pickhammer?"

"I put it back where I left it," Alexander explained.

"Back where?" Roland asked.

"Somewhere else," Alexander told him and said nothing else.

Together, the two men walked on in silence, Roland slowly drying off in the noon sun and Alexander whistling a tune that Roland did not recognize. They were nearing the borders of Bowerstone when Alexander asked him a question.

"So what do you do, sir?" Alexander asked him. "I am also afraid that I do not know your name."

"Oh! My name is Roland," Roland replied. "I'm a bard. Though, not a terribly good one, I'm afraid. I'm just starting out. I was actually visiting the Gypsy Camp to hear their storytellers and hopefully get some inspiration, but no such luck."

"That is nothing to be ashamed of, bard," Alexander reassured him. "Even the mighty kings of old started out as a mere babe. I'm sure you'll do fine."

Roland looked at him for a moment, and then smiled. Well, he's all right, I suppose, Roland thought to himself.

Soon enough, they reached the borders of Bowerstone and were met with a strange sight: large wooden spikes that extended outwards and upwards lined the road. There was also a large wooden carriage that blocked the road. A group of guards stood at attention by the road next to some travelers that sat on the ground. Alexander and Roland stopped in front of the cart.

"H'apologies, citizen," one of the guards told them. "The road to Bowerstone is closed, due to the recent bandit h'activity. H'I'm afraid that so long as the bandit, Thag, is alive, the road stays closed. If you're in an 'urry-like, you could always take care of Thag yourself."

"Take care of Thag ourselves?" Roland exclaimed. "Take care of Thag ourselves!? Are you serious?! Do you seriously expect us to take down that monster!? Despite the fact, no, ignoring the fact that he commands over a hundred bandits, the man is over 10 feet tall and rip out a man's entrails and eat it for dinner!"

"Well, that can not be good for you…" Alexander commented.

"How can you expect a bunch of civilians like us to take down that man?!" Roland shouted. The guard merely shrugged.

"That h'is not my problem," the guard told him. "Derek, the 'ead sheriff, is trying to round up guards to h'assault Thag's camp. But that is taking longer than he 'opes. Until then, no one gets into Bowerstone until Thag is dead."

"So if this Thag character is dealt with, then the road to Bowerstone will be opened," Alexander said.

"Correct, citizen," the guard replied.

"Well, this seems obvious enough," Alexander cracked his neck. He turned and patted Roland on the shoulder. "I will return in a moment."

"Fine…w-wait, what?" Roland turned to see Alexander walking down the hill. "Wait a minute, wait a minute! You're not seriously thinking about taking him on, are you?"

"Yes," Alexander replied.

"L-look, you are a strong fighter, and I'm…extremely grateful that you saved my life, but you're going to get yourself killed!" Roland exclaimed. "Let's just wait for the guards to take care of it!"

"Why when I can take care of this little problem just fine?" Alexander asked curiously.

"Because you'll be killed!" Roland nearly shouted, baffled.

"And you know this for a fact?" Alexander asked. Roland voice caught in his throat. Alexander smiled. "Listen, bard, the future can never be truly known. And if you spend so much thinking about all the bad things that might happen, you will always be frozen in place. So, you say that I will die if I confront this Thag character? I highly doubt it, but okay, fair enough. But if I do not confront this character that instills so much terror in you, I will never know. And it will always make me wonder."

Roland watched Alexander descend down the hill, speechless. Roland sighed inwardly.

"By the way, where exactly is this Thag fellow's camp?" Alexander called over his shoulder. Roland sighed again and pointed the general direction. Alexander waved his thanks and continued to walk onwards, humming the same unknown tune to himself. Roland watched him go until he was out of sight. Then he turned around and placed himself next to a gypsy trader.

Roland thought about what the man said and realized that was always what he himself had always done. He was always so afraid of taking the next step because he was always afraid of what might happen, even when he knew that the chances of that ever happening were next to nothing.

I'm always afraid, Roland thought to himself. Always afraid of might happen.

"ARGH!!!!!"

Roland's head shot up at the sound of a man's scream. He leapt to his feet, afraid that Alexander had been killed. Until he heard a few different screams follow. They were faint and distant, but he heard them clearly enough.

"AHHHHHH!!!!

"WHERE DID HE COME FROM?!?!?!?"

"GET HIM BOYS!"

"This'll be eas-OH! MY ARM!"

"OH MY-!"

"IT'S JUST ONE MAN! CUT HIS-AHHHHH!!!!!!"

"HE'S KILLED JOHNNY!"

"HE OWED ME MONEY!"

"C'mon, men, we can take him toget-ARGH!"

"NO! PLEASE! DON'T-ARGH!!!!!!!"

"MY EYE FELL OUT!!!!!"

"ARGH, I DIDN'T EVEN DO ANYTHING TO YOU!!!!!"

"Hey, guys, what's going on-ARGH!!!!!"

"I CAN'T FEEL MY LEGS!!!!"

"YOU DON'T HAVE ANY LEGS!!!!!!!"

"NEEOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!"

"ME BOLLOCKS!!!!!! I NEEDED THOSE!!!!!!!!"

"MOMMY!!!!!! MOMMY!!!!!!"

"MY OTHER EYE FELL OUT!!!!!"

"MY STOMACH'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE ON THE GROUND!!!!!"

"No, no, please! My body's not supposed to bend that-OH, ME SPINE!"

There was a pause.

Roland counted his heartbeats.

He counted twelve.

Then there was an explosion.

In the distance, a large, thin red plume of fire and smoke erupted from the camp and formed a small mushroom-shaped cloud in the sky. There was a deafening boom that nearly shattered his eardrums as Roland crouched, shielding his face from the brightness. Soon, the sound subsided and Roland rose up, eyes wide and mouth agape. He didn't even notice the small bits of debris falling slowly from the sky. Roland was pretty sure that if he disengaged his jaw, it would fall to the ground.

The smoke slowly began to fade as it rose high into the sky, away from the camp. After a few minutes, two gypsies, a man and a woman, ran up the hill, blackened with soot and coughing black smoke. They ran into the group around the Bowerstone road and fell to the ground, panting heavily.

"H'are you h'all right?" The guard asked, bringing him a flask of water.

"Yes, I'm fine," the man said through large gulps of water. "We're both fine."

"What 'appened?" the guard asked.

"We were some of Thag's prisoners," the woman explained. "He was going to ship us off to be slaves for…something. I thought we were going to die. Until he came along."

"A man in pauper clothing," the man continued. "He came strolling into the camp like he owned the blasted place. I thought he was going to die. All the bandits seemed to think so. But when one of them attacked him…" He shook his head.

"The bandit's head came clean off," the woman told them. "Then all the bandit's took notice of him. They all tried to attack him, but they couldn't touch him! He was too fast! I couldn't tell if he was wielding a weapon or not! But it was a massacre!"

"It was bloody brilliant!" the man exclaimed. "He gave all the bandits what was coming to them! Until Thag came out, that is. The man had been asleep. So, he was very upset when he came out to see all his men butchered!"

"But the man wasn't afraid!" the woman said. "His body just seemed to glow a soft, blue light! And when Thag attacked him, the man placed his palm on Thag's chest and he just blew up!"

"Boom!" the man demonstrated with his arms.

The group and the guards were silent.

"Are you sure he wasn't armed?" Roland asked.

"I think so…no, wait, he was armed! With a shining white blade!" the woman said.

"No, I'm pretty sure it was a black blade," the man said.

"H'are you even sure h'any of it even 'appened?" the guard asked.

"Did you see the explosions?" the man asked. "The soot on our bodies! What we're telling you is the truth!"

"Oh yeah?" one of the other guards called. "Then where is this man?"

His laughter was cut short when something large thwacked him in the head and he tumbled to the ground.

"Oh!" Alexander cried. "I am terribly sorry! I did not mean to hit you with that! So sorry! I was just kicking that thing around and it accidently got away from me! So sorry!"

The guard rubbed his head angrily and shot back up to his feet.

"Do you want to be arrested for assaulting a officer of the guard?!" the man was noticeably shorter than Alexander but he still stuck his finger against his chest.

"Oh my, no!" Alexander raised his hands defensively. "I was only wondering if that was Thag."

"Who?!" the guard shouted.

"Well, I kicked that head over to you to see if you recognized it, but I kicked too hard and it hit your head," Alexander explained.

The guard looked puzzled. Then he looked at what hit him on the head. Sure enough, it was Thag's head. The guard's face turned from puzzlement to pure horror. He retched up his insides onto the ground in front of Alexander, who rubbed his back.

"Terribly sorry about that," Alexander said warmly. "But, that does mean the road is opened, right?"

Everyone stared at him, mouth agape.

"Well, it does mean that, does it not?" Alexander asked again.

"Yes, h'it does," the original guard said. "C'mon, men, let's move this thing!"

All the guards helped move the carriage from the road as Alexander smiled brightly at everyone. He glanced down at his shirt and found the smallest drop of red on it.

"Blast!" Alexander said. "Bloody stain will take forever to get out!" He rubbed the spot roughly as he tried to get it out.

"Are you a hero?" Roland asked quietly.

Alexander looked up at him and smiled warmly.

"H'alright, citizens," the guard spoke aloud. "The road to Bowerstone is now open!"

Everyone waited for Alexander to walk to Bowerstone first before they all followed closely behind him, asking him questions. Roland was closest to him and he asked the most questions out of all of the people in the group. Alexander laughed cheerfully while humming the same unknown tune to himself. Whenever he was asked a question, he would give a one-word answer and returned to humming to himself.

The more I wrote this chapter, the more I realized I just introduced a major supporting character. That was unexpected.

This chapter has a bit more humor in it. Sets the overall tone of the story, having it go from dark to funny. I'm a humorless guy so if you think this is funny, please say so. I love reading your reviews!

I was thinking about putting a Red vs. Blue quote in this chapter. Just a small joke from Episode 7, I think, but I thought against it. Wouldn't make sense. Had I left it in, the line would have read:

"Take care of Thag ourselves?" Roland exclaimed. "Take care of Thag ourselves!? Are you serious?! Do you seriously expect us to take down that monster!? Despite the fact, no, ignoring the fact that he commands over a hundred bandits, the man is over 10 feet tall and can tear a man's skull out of his head and beat him to death with it!"

"Wait, that does not seem physically possible…" Alexander commented.

Got my hands on the See the Future add-on. Can't really say much about it yet, though. You see, I started Fable 2 over again, which means that I can only complete the Snowglobe and Knothole Island's Big Freeze quest.

I know people have all been complaining about how short these DLC's are but I think these were specifically made to be played over the course of the game, not all at once. But whatever, you play your game how you want to.

Oh, and Marley & Me made me realize my own dog's mortality. He's getting old and weak. He can't make it up the stairs anymore without my help. Suffice it to say that I cried like a baby at the end of the movie.

Till next time, cheers.