Disclaimer: I own nothing Fable, not the Princess/Hero/Queen, Albion, or the wonderfully delightful Reaver. It's just for fun, and we do so love fun. =P
Author's Note: So, by the time I was nearly done this chapter, I decided that I'm going to abandon keeping the canon dialogue as close as I could to what is actually said in the game. It felt entirely too stiff writing in that style, and it was, in short, no es bueno. Instead, I will simply opt to keep the canon characters as IC as I possibly can while using the canon script when it serves my purposes. On another note, I'd like to thank Piraticaly-Insane for the lovely comment; it made my day when I saw it. =P In any case, I hope everyone enjoys the second chapter.
It had been nearly a week since Walter had hurried her out of the castle, along with her butler, Jasper. The pain was still fresh, and caused and occasional unpleasant twinge in her chest whenever she thought of it. But an opportunity for revenge had presented itself, and the Princess was going to grab that opportunity, no matter how small and far away it may have been. Walter seemed all to eager to put her on the throne, and she was all to eager to go along with his plan. And what a plan he had... Well, actually, there wasn't much of a plan, yet. Right now all the Princess knew of the so-called 'plan' was that she needed to enlist a man named Sabine's help in the upcoming revolution. Sabine was the leader of the Dwellers, Walter had explained, and the Dwellers had been treated particularly poorly by the King. They were quite eager to join the cause... Provided that they receive a few favors. Three particularly small favors, she just had to fetch her mother's relic from a tomb, eradicate a band of mercenaries, as well as convince the whole of Brightwall to send relief up to the Dweller Camp. Easy.
Getting the relic had proved more dangerous than it seemed at first glance, although she really should have known better than to think it was safe to waltz into a place her mother had designed to house one of her most important artifacts. Though she hadn't known exactly what she had been looking for when she entered the reliquary, when she saw the music box it was fairly obvious. Her mother had spoken of it in her stories, how it was that very music box that had changed her life. The fact that she had to fight hordes of the undead to get there was forgotten when she had picked up the object. Never had she thought she would see it, let alone hold it. Then she was hit with a sense of loss as she realized she'd have to give it to Sabine upon her return. She did, however, realize that such sentiments were pointless in the face of her larger goal. Surely her mother would have understood.
Her second task was far trickier than the first, as mercenaries proved harder to kill than shambling, brittle corpses. Waves of the bastards had been thrown at her, standing alone against them all save for Burd's companionship. The Princess had learned that he was rather skilled at tearing out the throats of fallen enemies, which proved to a rather odd sort of blessing. Never before she had left the castle would she have been happy to have her dog perform such brutal acts, but one less enemy was always nice. After more fighting and death than the Princess had ever dealt with, she reached where Saker, the man she was instructed to bring down, waited. The fight was rather one-sided, because although Saker had said he would be the one fighting, other men jumped down in the pit to lend their attack power. The physical stress nearly caused her to make a fatal mistake more than once, and the various gashes on her body were a testament to this. However, when the dust settled, the Princess was the one who towered over the fallen mercenary, point of her blade barely touching his throat. She didn't kill him, however, as he promised to leave the Dwellers be. Whether or not he kept the promise was up to him, but if he broke it, she informed him, she would have no qualms about hunting him down and killing him as she was supposed to from the beginning.
Her final assignment was far less of a problem than the first two, but it did prove to be quite tedious. Samuel, (the man who was in charge of the closed down academy), suggested that if she was well-known the people of Brightwall would be more willing to spare some supplies to the Dwellers. After saving a child who had wandered into the mountains, helping a strange man bring life to a mob of garden gnomes, and getting sucked into a book containing plays by some Morley fellow, the Princess was finally beginning to make a name for herself. Enough of a name that people were willing to listen to her request to aid the Dweller Camp. She decided on a break, though, feeling like she was about to fall apart, literally. While healing potions did a grand job of ridding her of wounds, it didn't alleviate the stress and exhaustion of what she had just done, and she felt she could go for a well-earned rest. The thought of drinking entered her mind, but she shook it off, remembering she would have to leave early the next morning. There was little point in getting drunk if the next day you were likely to enter combat... Again.
When her mother had told her stories of her days as a Hero, she had conveniently left out the bit about the crushing tiredness. The Princess then considered the fact that her mother had even said that for nearly ten years she had dedicated every waking minute to training for her battle against the evil Lucien. The Princess, on the other hand, had been raised in a plush and lavish lifestyle, and had no need for such intense training. Sure, Walter had been training her before they left the castle, but that was for only about an hour a day, and it certainly hadn't been ten years since her training began. Such thoughts depressed the Princess, as she felt with her inadequate training she could never live up to her mother's reputation. These thoughts were banished, as so many had been lately, as she walked up the inn's stairs to her purchased room. The moment her head hit the rough pillow she fell asleep, though it felt more like a coma.
The Princess awoke the following morning feeling groggier than she had in her entire life. While her sleep had been unbroken, the poor condition of the bed she slept on left her rather stiff after all those hours of lying upon it. She already missed the cushy bed she had left behind, along with all the other little perks of being royalty. If only she hadn't taken those luxuries for granted... No one really recognized her this far from the castle, so she was given no bonuses by the people. She doubted she'd have got them anyways, given everyone's disposition towards the crown at the moment. Sabine had expressed what everyone else likely thought; she was related to Logan, so she's probably as ruthless as him as well. While it was a misguided statement, she understood why they would feel that way. They had no reason to trust her... Yet, that is. Walter's plan would certainly make her, as well as her opposition of Logan, very well-known indeed. She could only hope the plan worked.
After grabbing a quick bite downstairs, the Princess readied to travel up the mountain to the Dweller Camp. It was still early morning, and the sun had only just managed to clear mountains. Other than being so tired she felt like she could sleep for a year, it seemed as though the trip up the mountain wasn't going to be too terribly terrible. There was the small issue of the wolves that liked to roam the mountains in force, but compared to the living dead and heavily armed mercenaries, wolves were nearly as harmless as bunnies, even when in a pack. In fact, it seemed the only major problem she would encounter on her walk was the bitter cold of the lofty peaks. Why anyone would want to live in such a climate was beyond her. She preferred the more temperate weather of the coast which Bowerstone sat upon, and was once again sad she had taken that lovely weather for granted. The thought of being able to return to Bowerstone fueling her, the Princess' strides were long as she travelled the steep path leading up into the frozen Mistpeak Mountains.
The journey was about as quick as a trek up a mountain could be, and she was quite pleasantly surprised when she was unhindered by any form of attack, be it men or monster doing the attacking. She could smell the smoke of campfires long before she could see the gates to the camp, causing her to break into a jog. She was eager to see Walter again, and also eager to see the look on Sabine's face when he realized she had done everything he'd asked. He had made it abundantly clear that he expected her to fail in at least one of the tasks, if not all of them. Which seemed rather silly, because if she had failed, they'd still be without the food that was sent off only yesterday. Still, she was eager to see his reaction.
Inside of the camp, she was greeted with the cheers of the contented Dwellers, whom were now able to eat well thanks wholly to her actions. There was a certain amount of satisfaction knowing she had helped these people enough that they would cheer when they saw her. She did, however, save them from starvation and death by rogue mercenaries, so their thankfulness was to be expected. As she walked towards where Sabine waited she wore a large beaming grin on her face, the Dwellers' excitement rubbing off on her. It was an exquisite feeling, one she could quite easily get used to. Still grinning like a fool, the Princess withdrew the music box as she approached where Sabine sat.
"And so the triumphant hero returns, bringing good tidings... And supper." Sabine wore an equally large grin, his wrinkled face looking considerably younger now that the majority of his stress had been alleviated. Still smiling, the Princess handed the old man her mother's prized possession. After it was in his hands, he fiddled with it, shook it, and basically tried his damnedest to get it working. "Damn thing doesn't open. Ah well, never thought you'd actually get it, anyways." He commented with a chuckle.
"I told you I would." She replied teasingly, exchanging glances with Walter, who looked like he was fit to burst with pride. Yes, it was such a nice feeling helping people, especially when they needed it most.
"That you did; we'll be more than happy to have you lead us into battle... Provided you make a promise to us here and now; restore our mountains to their former glory. Return control of our mountains to us, and we'll gladly follow you into battle." Sabine explained, his expression one of fierce pride.
"You have my word, Sabine." The Princess replied with a brisk nod, extending her hand towards the aged leader. As if sealing the deal with a single handshake, Sabine's expression turned wickedly mischievous.
"Alright, then let us storm the gates and bring ruination on-!" Sabine's exclamation was cut short by Walter, who rolled his eyes at the hastiness.
"We can't rush into battle yet, we've still not enough support to take on an entire bloody army." Walter explained in an attempt to placate the old man.
"Ah, I was afraid you'd come off all sensible like." Sabine chuckled, "Well, when the time for battles arrives, you know where we are. You'd better send for us, too; you're not leaving us out of this battle."
I wouldn't dream of it, old friend. Walter took his turn to chuckle before he looked to the Princess, We'd best be off, then. We'll be taking the Mistpeak Monorail to Bowerstone; there are some people I think might just join us.
After a brief farewell to Sabine, Walter and the Princess set out for the monorail station. On their way, Walter asked of what the Princess had faced trying to complete Sabine's tasks, not satisfied when she skirted over the details. He wanted to know how many mercenaries she had killed, what trials awaited inside the reliquary, and any other little detail he could think of that she had already told him. While a bit tedious, the Princess enjoyed it. And, as an added bonus, it helped pass the time it took for them to get from the Dweller Camp to the Monorail station. The Princess had never been on the monorail, but she'd certainly heard of it. While she was excited to try something new, Walter seemed less than pleased with their travel arrangements. He muttered his complaint about the tiny metal box being dangled up in the air like that. His complaints, however, were cut short by a rather ghastly sound of metal grating on metal. Everyone who had been awaiting the arrival of the monorail car turned their attention the source of the sound; the very monorail car the were waiting for. There was a horrible moment when everyone was silent right before another grating noise as part of the car disconnected from the tracks. There were a few screams of those watching, and if the people inside the box were screaming, it couldn't be heard. After another sickening moment of watching the car dangle there by the barest amount, it finally plummeted, it's impact with the cavern ground shook the platform, and more screams were heard from the onlookers.
"Bloody hell, we've got to get down there!" Walter cried, dashing towards the metal gate that barred the monorail goers from the restricted area. The Princess watched as he threw all of his strength into prying open the gate, obviously anxious to get down to any possible survivors. Looking down at the smoke rising from the fallen car, the Princess seriously doubted anyone had survived that fall. That didn't stop her from wanting to get down there, though, just in case. She did, however get the feeling that whether there were survivors or not, they'd find something alive down there; that seemed to be a recurring fact, given that she had barely been out of the castle for a week. There was always something waiting to rip her to shreds. It was really quite unpleasant.
Walter finally managed to pry the gate open, and the two of them wasted no time dashing for the lift. As they entered the small box, Walter again muttered his complaints about the small space, but they were quickly done with the short ride down, giving Walter the opportunity to step out into the more spacious area at the bottom of the cavern. They again dashed, this time towards the wreckage. The closer they got, the more noticeable the sound of high-pitched growls was. As they turned the corner, they were greeted by a terrible sight. Corpses lay sprawled around the destroyed car, flames devouring anything that would burn, and the source of the growls was revealed. Foul little monsters with the discolored skin tone of a corpse, though they were very much alive. Hobbes. Vile creatures, if ever she'd seen one.
The small ones with the corpse-colored skin proved rather easy to dispatch, but as she and Walter pushed forward through the hordes of grotesquely child-like beings they encountered larger versions of those first few she had seen. Each size of Hobbe seemed to have a different color skin, and as she thrust her sword through the sickeningly soft body of one of the little blighters she wondered what relevance their size and skin color had, other than indicating which were stronger. One could only wonder if they had any sort of societal structure, but given their animalisticbehavior she highly doubted that was the case. The little bastards didn't seem like the type to think of something like that. She had, of course, heard the stories about Hobbes, that they were previously children and whatnot, but that didn't stop her from sending one after another to the grave. It hadn't even halted her, as terrible as it sounded. Though she knew that they were once children, the thought that they would readily kill and eat her as well as the fact that no child would want to live this way made any qualms about killing them quickly dissipate. The only mercy she could allow them was a swift death, which she delivered again and again.
The stream of Hobbes felt endless as they fought their way further into the cavern, both forging a path to their next destination as well as attempting to make future treks on the monorail safe, supposing they didn't close it down after this little incident. Not too many people would be keen on riding such a contraption after hearing the story of how the car plummeted to the cavern's ground, killing all inside. Whether or not the Hobbes were all dead, people rarely trust something that was subject to such an 'accident'. Pity, she had wanted to ride the monorail too. There was nothing to be done about that now, however, and their only option was to continue pressing the attack, felling Hobbe after Hobbe. While fighting, there was little room for thought, but the Princess apparently managed, as she absently thought about how terrible these little creatures smelled. Obviously at some point during the transformation from child to Hobbethey completely forgotten how to bathe oneself. Although, it was possible the smell was originating from the many corpses strewn about and hung from the walls. Where ever the stench came from, in any case, it was the most disgusting one she had encountered in all her life.
And just as suddenly as they had came, the enemies were gone, now lain out in a bloody trail. Breathing heavily, the Princess looked to Walter, who looked equally tired from the strenuous task of killing a small army of Hobbes. She couldn't wait to be out of this damnable place and get a nice big breath of fresh air. While the stagnant, foul-smelling air down here worked to keep her from suffocating, she was beginning to wonder if suffocating would be better than the scent she was forced to endure. It was the very reason why she didn't suggest they stop and take a quick breather. The sooner they were out of this place the better.
As it turned out, the small army they had fought wasn't the last of the Hobbes, as they were 'greeted' by many more once they had entered a part of the cavern riddled with ancient architecture, far beyond the construction capabilities of a Hobbe's. They never did find out exactly what the strange area was, but they had found out that Hobbe's enjoy entertainment as much as the next person, as they had arranged a sort of gladiator-esque battle against the undead Hobbe's raised by the Summoner Hobbes. By the time they had reached the exit to the underground cavern, the Princess would have been the happiest person alive if she never saw another Hobbe in her entire lifetime. She was, however, rather disappointed when she saw the area they emerged in.
A swamp, complete with swarms of bloodsucking insects, a humid climate, foul smells, and graves. It wasn't the most welcoming of sights, and the smell was only a little better here than it had been in the cavern. She was too tired for this, honestly. After a brief walk with a little small talk, the muggy air making every step seem far more bothersome than it really should have been, the Princess was nearly ecstatic to see human activity, even if that activity included a rifle pointed in their direction.
"Halt! Be you men, or Hollow Men?" The man holding the rifle called out. The Princess raised an eyebrow. Did they look like decrepit corpses? Admittedly, they did look a little worse for wear after their little foray through the Hobbe cavern, but they still looked far from mobile skeletons.
"Have you gone daft, boy? Open up the doors!" Walter shouted up the the armed soldier, his tone ever-so-slightly annoyed.
"Walter? Is that you?" The man inquired, lowering his gun.
"The very same. Now, are you going to let us in?" Walter inquired, beginning to tap his foot impatiently.
"Oh, yes, of course. Right away." The man replied somewhat nervously, "Open the gates! Tell Major Swift that Walter's here!" He shouted over his shoulder to some unknown recipient. The gates swung wide, revealing a relatively small force of soldiers, all looking rather haggard to say the least. Many were sporting bandages, and all of them had clothing stained with blood. That, paired with the multiple graves near the wall of the fort, gave the distinct impression that they had survived a battle rather recently. The Princess could already tell her stay here was going to be... Entertaining at the very least. As she and Walter proceeded inside the fort, they were greeted by two men who were clearly set apart from the others, as neither wore same uniform as the others and also neither of them seemed to have any significant wounds.
"Major Swift! It's good to see you, old friend!" Walter exclaimed, exchanging a brisk handshake with the Major. The Princess stood a little ways behind Walter, feeling a tad out of place. As if sensing her feelings, Burd trotted over to her and bumped his nose against her hand until she paid him attention. She couldn't help but smile at his affectionate behavior. He really was a suck-up sometimes... Which made it all the harder to believe he had torn out the throats of countless enemies whom had the misfortune of being knocked down long enough for him to pounce. How this sweet, loving dog was the same as the one who had committed such brutal acts was beyond her.
"Walter, it's good to see you as well. Though I must ask; what brings you to our particularly dangerous neck of the woods? You hardly seem to be out on a stroll." Major Swift replied, replacing the hand he had used to greet Walter back on his hip. The stance looked oddly flamboyant in the Princess' mind, but she simply shrugged the thought off as completely inane. How a man, or woman, stood held only the barest scrap of information on the person, save for how they perceived themselves. His stance told her he was proud, but not to the point of vanity. Any attempt at vanity would have been quickly dashed, in any case, as the uniforms worn by all of the soldiers looked stained and bloodied. It was hard to make the post-battle look good.
"Ah, yes, I was actually hoping to ask you something." Walter replied, his tone turned serious.
"Bollocks; and here I was hoping you'd come to save of from the hordes of the undead." The other man, whom had yet to be introduced, muttered. He, along with Major Swift, stood out among the other soldiers. Not because they wore different uniforms than the others, and it wasn't because they carried higher ranks than the others. Both seemed to have an air about them, though the Princess couldn't place it for the life of her. Pride, maybe? No, it was confidence. That had to be it.
"Ben Finn." Walter grinned, turning towards the man in question, "Still alive, I see. How are you doing these days?"
"Did you not hear when I said 'hordes of the undead'?" Ben inquired, voice laced with sarcasm, "Yeah, things are ducky."
"Logan just loves to send you lot on the best assignments, hm?" Walter commented, adding in a touch of his own sarcasm, "That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about."
"I was wondering why she looked so familiar." Major Swift replied, nodding his head towards the Princess. Unsure of what else to do or say, she simply nodded in his direction in a form of greeting.
Now that the attention had been focused towards her, and all three of them were looking in her direction, she felt even more out of place and awkward. Being royalty didn't necessarily mean her people skills were what you'd call sharp. She was a Princess, not a Queen, and hence not required to make public announcements. While she had managed well enough for her speech directed towards the castle staff on the day she had fled, she lumped that into the category labeled 'Flukes'. Whether or not it actually was a fluke was up for debate, but she felt it was.
"Yes, I'll explain why the Princess is all the way out here later. Just treat her like any other soldier for now." It irked her to hear her help being enlisted yet again, but she set it aside in favor of the thought that more important things were going on yet again. Along with the crushing exhaustion, her mother had also failed to mention also meant putting aside your personal beliefs in the favor of the greater good. Maybe that one was just supposed to be implied. Still, it would have been nice to know before hand... Although, the Princess doubted her mother had even thought she'd turn out to be a Hero. She hadn't exactly exhibited any signs of such before only just recently. Even now she occasionally had doubts about herself. Her mother hadn't needed magical gauntlets to enable her to use spells; she had been able to use them all on her own. How was she expected to live up to someone like that? Luckily, she was drawn out of such depressing thoughts by Major Swift.
"Very well. Follow Captain Finn here up to the wall; we could use another person on the mortars for when those bastards come back tonight." He said, finally directing his words about her towards her. She stood there for a moment, rooted to the spot, staring at the Major in disbelief. He expected her, a princess who had led a sheltered life up until a week ago, to operate something like a mortar? Was the man daft? Surely he had to be to issue such an order. Apparently her thoughts were well displayed, as the assembled men all chuckled at her expression.
"Go on, Princess; it's really not as difficult as you think." Walter urged, still chuckling ever so slightly. She wasn't convinced, and her face said as much, but all the same nodded. Another wave of chuckles. She frowned. After a few more moments, Ben gestured for her to follow. She did, of course, casting one more glance back at Walter that all but flat out said 'What the hell are you thinking?'
When up on the wall, Ben introduced her to a fellow called 'Jammy', who, according to Captain Finn, 'was so called because he's the luckiest sod in the fort.' Jammy was a strange man, and appeared to be barely held together based on the amount of wounds he so proudly informed her of. As Ben and Jammy spoke rather briefly, Ben explaining why she was up there, the Princess took her time to warily eye up the mortar she was expected to use. Swords and guns were one thing, but this was a true weapon of war. Even just it's appearance was brutish. Certainly not something you'd see a princess using,and yet here she was, being told to do exactly that.
After a couple of shots, the Princess realized that Walter had been right, and that there was little talent needed for using a mortar. She was still pleased with herself for pulling it off, though. Still, being pleased with oneself doesn't help being so tired you could fall asleep at any given moment, so she asked Captain Finn if there was time for her to take a nap. He pondered it for a moment, glanced upwards, and then replied.
"Yeah, sure. Shouldn't be a problem, there's still a little while before sundown yet. I'll get you up before then." And after saying a quick thanks, the Princess retreated to a more secluded area and made a makeshift bed for herself. As soon as her head hit the 'pillow', (I use the term loosely, as she had simply bundled up a jacket she had found lying near by), she fell into a dreamless slumber. It felt entirely too short, as in her mind the moment she closed her eyes she was being shaken awake. She tried to shoo them away at first, forgetting where she was, but eventually she was awoken completely.
The Hollow Men were here.