Alright I'm trying to just scoot along with this story so I'm going to do just that. And if you guys get mad at me saying that I'm skipping over anything in Fable, I'm going to tell you all the same thing, unless you want to read over a story that has more chapters containing fillers than actually moving along in the story... This story has got to move on. With that being said MOVING ON...

Disclaimer: Well I tried a sneak attack while I was playing Dragon Age (to get inspired don't judge me), but instead I ran into the screen and had to explain why I now have a profusely large bump on my head. Sparrow, my legal consultant (as I have forced her against her will) has once more decided to remind me that I still cannot have Alistair... Or her... In fact she's been talking about suing me. Well now I've got to let her go. Needless to say I own nothing.

The Crucible...

Alistair, after dragging his self up the stair, finally confronted the two men Hammer had mentioned before. One a rather thuggish looking man, and the other looked like he didn't belong there at all. He was too well dressed the second one was.

"Look Murray," said the thug who was observing and judging Alistair making him slightly uncomfortable. "A nobody trying to get into the Crucible!" Alistair frowned as the thug continued. "Doesn't anybody know you've got to be famous to fight here?"

Murray shrugged at Alistair. "Terribly sorry," he apologized. "But I'm afraid this is a rather brutal business." Alistair pinched the bridge of his nose rather annoyed by everything at the moment. The last thing he was looking for was to go out of his way just to find himself right back where he started. So instead of thinking things clearly and reasoning that he was more than capable of fighting, Alistair decided to let his skill speak for itself.

He quickly snatched the thug by the collar, drawing his sword from his back and held it to the man's throat. "A brutal business?" He asked incredulously. "I've been traveling since the day before yesterday to get here. I went through bandits and balverines just to get here and now you're telling me this competition is too brutal for me to handle?" His grip tightened and he pulled the thug closer so they were nearly nose to nose. "Now I'm getting in to that damn competition if I have to go through you I will not hesitate!"

"You know," Murray took a step back to Alistair's rage. "I suppose we could fit in one more fighter. Don't you think Mad-dog?"

Mad-dog sighed but did have to agree with Murray, if he didn't want his head cut off by the mad man who held him in a death grip. "Alright, alright I see your point," he relented. Alistair finally dropped him and tried to regain a calm composure. "Just make sure you're properly kitted out before you go in."He smirked and added softly, as if trying to make Alistair nervous, "the crowd gets ever so upset when our fighters die too quickly."

"But if you live – you become a legend, and you'll be a shoe-in to join Lucien's army," assured Murray. His cheerful tone did nothing to calm Alistair's nerves as so much was riding on his success. The mention of an opportunity to meet this Lucien only turned the forming knot in Alistair's stomach as he tried to hide his discomfort. "I don't think any winner has turned that opportunity down yet. Private vector security is very lucrative I hear." Alistair didn't mention the 'security' he and Sparrow had the misfortune of meeting.

The massive doors opened to the entrance, a massive room filled with traders and men all lined up to prove themselves worthy of joining Lucien's army. Alistair almost felt a slight twist of guilt that what these men were working so hard to gain, he was working twice as hard to destroy. But that was life wasn't it? Working so hard at something to get a great big, heaping pile of crap thrown in your face.

Alistair began heading towards the thug by the door. Apparently the one in charge, when a voice to his right caught him off guard. It was higher than he had expected to hear from a group of well trained men and... Was that little girl with glowing eyes looking at him?

"Ah," He stopped Alistair. "Another mighty contender joins our party. Welcome!" He waved his arm over to allow Alistair in on the conversation. Alistair gratefully accepted, hoping these men (and little girl) would know more about the challenge than he did. They mostly spoke of where they had come from and their excitement of where they were going. They were about to carry on with their discussion when a loud cry of pain and a string of NO's made all the contenders tense.

"Gorgoron wants his mummy," said the little girl. Alistair's eyes were wide at the baritone voice. She couldn't have been more than five!

The man a the door stretch before waving to the group. "Right, who's next then?" Alistair, though quickly as he wanted everything to be over, silently prayed that it wasn't him. As the Maker had shown him time and time again, no such prayer would be heard.

"Oh well, love to, wouldn't I," said one who had introduced himself as Meatbane. A bandit who was so fortunate as to not run into Sparrow and the rest of the party. "Yeah, but still got this whole ethical entanglement to mull over. Er... Yeah." He took a step back as if to look as though he were debating with his self. Crap that made one less for the doorman to choose.

"Ah, um, I would certainly embrace this opportunity," said Zachary, the one who had invited Alistair into their group. He was a powerful mage who took too much pleasure in making Meatbane say stupid things (and a couple times Alistair had to admit it was pretty funny except when Zachary tried it on Alistair, then it wasn't funny anymore). "But I'm er... I'm still waiting for my lucky robes to come back from the cleaners."

Alistair started to become annoyed as he figured out the rest of the group were hardly who they said they were. Except Gorgoron, he still didn't get what was wrong with that thing. Bessie, the only female in the room, made some excuse about her crossbow catching an awful cold. Was any one really going to believe that? And, of course, Alistair's last hope Gorgoron had an evil in-grown toe nail.

Strangely, that one he could believe.

"You," the door man, Martin pointed at Alistair. "The new guy. It's your lucky day. Get your arse in there." Alistair swallowed, was it too late to run out of there screaming? He figured it wouldn't be, but then, what would Sparrow think of him?

"Lucky me," he muttered under his breath as he approached the door.

Martin pointed to a book on the table. "You might want to read up on the rules. Not that most contenders can read."

Rules? There were actually rules in this chaos? What good were the rules? Alistair figured it was kill things and try not to get killed from what he heard from the screaming. That warranted rules? Regardless, he picked up the book, unsure of what he'd find if this competition actually had rules.

Much to his surprise, he was right. There were no rules, it was more like a quick set of guidelines. Though the passage about the traders made Alistair sigh in relief. The rest instructed the rounds, what to expect, how to keep the crowds entertained (thought Alistair didn't really care about entertaining the masses, he just wanted to leave with all limbs still intact).

He took slow steps down a long hall, really wishing he had considered his 'run-out-screaming' plan. It sounded nice right about now. Instead he kept going forward, he had to keep going forward.

"So," cheerfully spoke the commentators, who Alistair had recognized the voices as the men outside. "Here we are Mad-Dog, poised once again at the gates of bloodshed and greatness, as another competitor faces the challenges of... The Crucible. Ladies and Gentlemen, let's here it for..." Alistair could only cringe at what the name could be that they had dished out for him. "Lion Heart!" There was a loud cheer, and though Alistair couldn't complain about the name, he figured it was only a name they chose so they didn't have to admit that some loon had forced his way in.

Alistair hesitantly took a step into position. There would be no going back now. No matter the challenge. Not even if it was...

Beetles?

Meanwhile...

Hammer had kept an ear open for the Commentators, hoping to hear anything about Alistair's progress or if he had even started fighting to begin with. She had heard the announcement of Lion Heart stepping into the arena, though she had to admit she had never heard of him.

Sparrow was recovering nicely, she even woke up and one point and yelled at Hammer for sending in Alistair, when Sparrow was clearly the person for the job. She went on about how Alistair was probably not even cut out for this much fighting, sure he was good enough as a team, but what about on his own? Hammer tried her best to convince Sparrow that if it hadn't been for Alistair, they all would have been killed by Lilith. But Sparrow was unrelenting. She was angry, but luckily, fatigue took over and she was soon resting once more.

From what the commentators were saying, this Lion Heart was holding his own pretty well. The first round he had managed a Perfect Round although it didn't say much as they were beetles. The second round proved a tad more difficult, but still Lion Heart was victorious. It was the third round now, and this Lion Heart was struggling along. Though Hammer didn't know Lion Heart (or she didn't know she knew Lion Heart), she had her fingers crossed for him. Something told her it was the right thing to do and so she silently hoped that he'd make it through okay.

Meanwhile...

Alistair had managed to dive out of the way from the attacking hobbes with bombs tied around their middles. Though he appreciated how easy they were to kill (with literally no effort) the fact that they were exploding near him made Alistair inwardly curse in ways that would make Oghren blush. He mentally kicked his self for not stopping at the trader, when he KNEW he should have. But NO, Alistair just had to rush through everything, the sooner he was in there the sooner he could leave. Now he was facing down a mage-like hobbe that was resurrecting the dead. How unfair was that?

The hobbes ran after Alistair, both alive and dead. 'Okay,' he reasoned. 'It's just like a mage, how hard can that be? Just focus Alistair, you spent thirteen years in a damn Chantry for Maker's sake!... Erm sorry!' Swinging his sword in a wide arch, he had managed to catch at least three of the offending dead hobbes. Finally giving Alistair the time and space he needed to concentrate. A rush of energy flowed through him, he was going to take that last hobbe down if it nearly killed him!

A bright, familiar light flashed before his eyes in a quick instant. With a loud erupting sound the hobbe was slain. The crowd broke out into loud cheering, they had never seen anything like a Holy Smite before. Alistair was just relieved to have ended the third wave, with only five more to go.

As much as Alistair didn't want to admit it. The fourth round was a breeze. Hollow men, which seemed a fancy word for the undead was something Alistair had faced and triumphed over before. Though in theory they were the same, things began to look up for Alistair as he realized that these hollow men were much more brittle than the ones he had faced in Redcliff. He ducked under the swinging sword on his left blocking a swinging scythe with his sword on the right, and with half the effort he would have had to use if the hollow men were still alive, he punched the beast in the face, knocking it's head clean off.

"Ow ow ow," He shook his hand painfully as he took a step back in caution. "That worked out well, but OW!" The one from his right staggered toward him as Alistair returned to his stance prepared to do anything but have to punch another hollow man in the, brittle but hard, face. The hollow man brought up his (or her. With all the skin falling off Alistair couldn't really tell if he was a he or a she) scythe and before it could bring down the weapon, Alistair made his strike. He swung his sword, lobbing the head off, giving Alistair time to prepare for the third wave.

Meanwhile...

Sparrow had begrudgingly spoken to Hammer since she had regained conscious for the second time. They listened to the warrior Lion Heart in his fourth round, which he had triumphed in a 'Perfect Round' whatever that meant and had quickly become the talk of the town. Men trading stories on their theories of who this man could be. Women squealing every time the commentators cried out gleefully that Lion Heart had fought his way victoriously through another round, and some fighting over who he would be taking home tonight.

Sparrow folded her arms, even refusing to pet Roofus who was still whining for affection that Sparrow was not going to give. "So he's been lucky the first few rounds," she pouted begrudgingly. "Big deal! Just because 'Lion Heart' makes it through, does not mean Alistair will."

Hammer ignored Sparrow's ranting, Alistair would do just fine when he faced the Crucible himself. She had faith in her newest friend, even if only a day ago she was arguing on his tactics. He seemed to do well enough against bandits, balverines, and bullies. And so she was confident Alistair would do just fine.

The fifth round ended quickly, another perfect round with Murray and Mad-dog shouting excitedly about Lion Heart's quick work with bandits.

Sparrow sighed annoyed. "I have to get up there," she said with something short of a plea. "What if he fails? We lose a friend then I have to do it, but I'll be too depressed to fight I'll get myself killed, then YOU have to do it."

"He'll be fine," Answered an increasingly annoyed Hammer. "We'll just have to wait until Lion Heart finishes and we'll see if he's seen Alistair. Maybe he'll know when he's due to fight."

Sparrow reluctantly agreed. What other choice did she have?

Meanwhile...

Sixth round, Alistair had more fun just pushing the buttons while the bandits fell into the big hole. There was literally almost no effort made in that round at all save a few bullets he was forced to dodge but that was no problem compared to some of the other fights he had been forced through. Now that he had stopped at the trader before continuing, he felt refreshed and ready to go for round seven.

He stepped into the arena, into his designated spot before the commentators counted down the fight. "Three... Two... ONE!" Instantly appeared balverines from all around. They circled Alistair hungrily, but Alistair was ready and still hot blooded from his last encounter with balverines. The first balverine on his right snapped at him, but with a quick dodge and a thrust upwards, it fell face first to it's death. A rough tear at his left bicep, making the previous wound much deeper. He let out a small cry in pain but refused to back down. He'd beat this challenge if it was the last thing he ever did. Which at the rate he was going, and the way he was being circled, death might not be too long ahead of him.

'One more round,' he kept repeating. 'Just one more round and I'm out of this.' A balverine had charged him from the right, knocking Alistair off his feet and across the room. He sincerely hoped he could last that long.

Meanwhile...

"Oh I'd hate to be Lion Heart right now," laughed the commentators. "He is taking one hell of a beating."

Sparrow and Hammer listened intently to the commentators. Lion Heart wasn't doing so well this round, every now and again the announcers would call out 'Mediocre,' to 'Boring,' as they explained the beating this poor man was taking against balverines.

"Oh and that one might be fatal folks," cried the commentator Mad-Dog. "Wait, wait he's getting back up this is not over yet!"

"That's it," Sparrow threw her hands in the air. "I'm going in there and I'm getting Alistair out. I should be the one who takes care of this damn Crucible anyway." Before Hammer could protest, Sparrow was back on her feet and limping to the great doors ahead of her.

Upon entering the training room she saw men of all shapes and sizes, especially sizes when she saw Gorgoron for the first time. The one shape and size she did not see, was Alistair and that worried her. Where could he have gotten off to?

"Are you here to prove your worth as well to Lord Lucien?" Asked a woman beside her. "I want to be the first. Do you think there are many woman where Lord Lucien is?"

"I doubt it," replied Sparrow. She shook her head suddenly like she had just realized why she was here in the first place. "There was a man who came in here earlier I was told. Younger man, tall, blonde hair, any of this sound familiar to you?"

"Who," she stopped for a minute. "Oh you mean Alistair 'Lion Heart', yes he's fighting right now actually. It doesn't sound good whatever he's fighting." She gulped. "You don't think we'll be facing the same thing do you?"

Sparrow didn't bother to listen to the question as she pushed her way towards the doorman. Someone was going to explain this!

(A/N: -huffs and puffs- I did it. It took a LOT longer than I thought it would but I did it and I'm already halfway through the next chapter. So sorry everyone with all the new game releases I started losing motivation to write since then but I finally picked up Fable II again and I think I got the kick back. So you all know the drill. Read, review, and remember; I love you.)