A/N: So, remember when I said I'd try to get these chapters out a little faster? You do? Crap. Oh well, I can only offer up the same excuses. Life's throwing me more and more stuff to juggle and I'll be honest, I'm struggling. But, when I can I am working on this piece of madness you guys seem to like.
Snowhelm: Don't worry I haven't forgotten about you lovely bunch of Scoundrels. I definitely recommend Fable (That goes for all of you lot) I thought it was a brilliant game. I wouldn't make a short story, just one with lots of long delays
goat of power: Again with the blushing mate, it's hard to keep a smile of my face after reading what you guys write
Lichrune: Oh dear god that name is cool. I don't know why but coupled with your profile pic, it screams "Lord of Bad-assery". Anyhoo, I know exactly where your coming from. I like to give Sparrow a few chapters where he gets the crap kicked out of him, then one or two where he owns. But they'll be far and few... Until the plan kicks in.
Oh what's that? What plan? You guys know what you have to do.
Chapter 8 - A Hero is Born
I stand alone. It's dark. I feel weightless. There's nothing around me. I can't move, but there doesn't seem to be a floor. The world is entirely... empty.
Time means nothing. I've no idea how long I've been here. Could be moments. Could be millennium.
Not exactly like I've got a watch now is it? And I get bored very very VERY easily. Ve-hery easily.
One thing, one singular thing marks any sort of passage of time.
Remember.
Again and again and again I hear it, like a mantra.
REMEMBER WHAT?!
I have no idea what it means. Remember my five a day? Remember to wash hands? WHAT!
Nine months. Nine months and I know as little as when I first entered this world. Nothing makes sense. Thedas doesn't exist. It's a fucking game! And now the Crawler from Fable? How is that possible? How is any of this possible?
I just wanna go home.
Ow. Ow. Ow.
Oh god pain.
I try to open my eyes, but it's so dark it hardly makes a difference. I bring a hand up and roll over, standing up straight. I roll my shoulders and try to stretch my limbs.. I blink a few times because I can see sleep in my eyes. Then I bring up my hand and light it up.
I'm in the cave still. Looks like some narrow passage. But I think it's a different part. Not entirely sure how I've managed that to be honest. There are no bones here. And the walls aren't burnt from my flames.
Still, no wolves, so that's a bonus. I'm not especially one to count the few blessings I get.
I turn, illuminating more. I blink in surprise before frowning deeply. There's a torch. Y'know, the kind that's like a stick with a cloth around one end. Not the electric kind. I almost laugh. I take a sniff. Smells a bit like oil. I always wondered what this crap was. In like Indiana Jones and Tomb Raider, these things were always readily available and always seemed to light.
Hopefully my luck will finally kick in right around now. It's only about nine months late.
I pass my flame under the torch and it bursts into flames. Nice. I extinguish the flame in my hands and immediately feel the fatigue. Guess my mana's low! I'm kinda worried about how that works actually. I mean, while I use my magic, I feel all-powerful and a total badass. As soon as I switch it off, bam! As tired as if I've run a marathon. It kinda makes sense now that the first few times I've used my magic I've passed out. My body probably hasn't adjusted to that sort of thing. So, say I do have a mana pool. Or magicka, or whatever. What if I use it all? Does my magic stop working for a while? Am I knocked out? Do I start to use my life-force?
Can I die?
With these thoughts in mind, I'm glad that I found the torch. I shiver and lift the torch higher to illuminate the room around me. Close by, there's another torch. I turn around...
Wall. Right there, no entrance/exit. I scowl suspiciously. This is abnormal. Er. With nowhere else to go, I head to the next torch.
After a few minutes, of lighting torches and stumbling through the dark, the passage opens up into a massive cavern. I let loose a couch of disbelief and a wry smile.
Of course it's the Hero Guild. What else was it going to be?!
I walk the middle path, not bothering to stare down the massive, black, never ending pit to the side, sidestepping the murals of victory and valour and rubble. I just want out of this bloody cave. I've no time for lollygagging.
I almost walk past the chest. Almost. I stop next to it for a few moments before I sigh. Planting the torch down, I bend down in front of the lock, pulling my pick from my pocket. I managed to get at least some before Duncan hauled me away.
Thinking of him, my thoughts turn anxious. What happened to him? Did he get out okay? Is he looking for me? Or has he given up, already back to the capital? I shake my head.
One thing at a time boyo. One thing at a time.
After a few moments of wiggling my pick I hear a crunch and smile. Withdrawing my lock, my smile turns to frustration. Fecking thing broke! I growl as I hurl the broken pick into the abyss behind me.
Fuck it, I'll make my own luck.
I rub my hands together and fire springs into my palm. I focus intently, still weary from earlier, making the flames hotter and hotter. When they turn white, I bring them to the lock like a blowtorch. In seconds, the lock bubbles and boils away. I scramble to avoid the liquid metal, knowing that'll sting like a mother fucker if it touches me. I lift the lid of the chest and pull my torch up.
The contents don't surprise me. Why should they? Before me lies three blades. I pull out the first and sigh heavily as I pull it from it's sheathe. A plain, undecorated sword, nothing special really apart from its keen edges and the way the light bounces off it. But I can feel the power of this blade, even in it's dormant state. Now I know next to nothing about smithing, but I know whoever – whatever – made this was a master of their craft. Because I know that the more that I use it, the more the blade will change, become mine. The blade of a Hero. Which, I suppose I am. My magic, it's the power of Will. Maybe that's my only power, Strength and Skill are still up in the air for now. Already I feel the hilt changing in my grip, the blade slowly shrinking, like it's been asleep for a long time. Tying the sword belt and sheathe around my waist, I re-sheathe the blade. Guess I'll have to name it now or something. I hear Fluffy Bunny is up for grabs...
I'll have no such trouble from the other two blades. They've already been named, in my world at least. One has a blue hilt and cross guard, the other red and Y-shaped. Though I can't see it, I know that one has a blade as black as night, the other, silver steel. Both have markings or runes engraved on the blades. Each blade has a small gap from point to hilt, like some kids razor sharp buck teeth.
Before me lies the Sword of Aeons and Avo's Tear, the two most powerful weapons in the Fable universe.
I stagger backwards, feeling the both blades reaching out and basking me in their power. It's almost like being drunk, something I haven't experienced in far too long. I pull out the swords by their belt and stare at it confused for a moment before a spark of inspiration hits me. I sling it across my back and tighten the straps. Ha! Worn across the back like Geralt.
After taking a moment to make slight adjustments, I prepare to move on. Something, however, catches my attention. A glint of something else in the chest. I look again and see a badge, or brooch. The Guild Seal. And beneath it, a piece of paper. Sliding the Seal to the side, I take the paper in hand and read.
-Thieves beware. If you can read this, which in this land seems to be a rarity, then I give you fair warning: you are already dead. A dark creature lurks in these caves, a monster that was sealed away at the time I am writing this letter. If you have reached this chest, then the physical seal has been broken. Which means there is only a matter of time until the beast we have named the Crawler breaks loose. Only the magical seal stops it's darkness spreading across the land, and it will be weakening. So, you, and I am so sorry for doing this, are our only hope. Before you lies three blades. The first will be your weapon. It shall mould itself to your hand and arm. It will become a part as you as your arm, an extension of your being.
But poetics aside...
The other blades are more... complicated. Long ago, an epic battle was fought. If you look at the walls around you, you may get the gist of what happened. Needless to say, it was an epic battle between light and dark and in the end, good triumphed. At a cost. The soul of the Hero, whose name has been lost to time, was trapped in the light blade. The evil he vanquished, the dark blade.
I'll let you decide which is which. If you are not a moron, then you will figure out which is which. I do not have high hopes.
They are sentient. That means they are alive and have wills of their own. Wills they will try to force onto you. You must not let them, while one is a bastion of light, the other is a harbinger of darkness, rivalling the Crawler with his evil intent. It is not an easy task to bear these swords, but it is a necessary one.
These blades are the only weapons known to be able to harm the Crawler. He is a soul without form. An idea without a mouth piece. And you can't kill an idea. Those trapped in these swords can harm the Crawler. I entrust them to you. Against my better judgment and with no other options.
The Crawler was not killed in my time for a reason. If he perishes, a far greater evil shall arise. One that there may be no way to defeat. I implore you, for the sake of man, elf, dwarf and all other races, DO NOT KILL THE CRAWLER.
The ritual used to imprison the creature is enclosed. It requires sacrifice, but believe me when I tell you, it is for the sake of all.
The Crawler taints all it touches. Nothing is immune to its gaze. Even now, I can hear it whispering. It wants to be free. I want to free it.
I've given you the weapons, and the knowledge to use them. I can only hope that you can put them to good use.
Unless you are a thief. In which case, the end of the world is on your shoulders.
Nice job
S.-
I read the letter, then re-read it. One thought pervades my mind.
Who the fuck is S? Sounds like an ass.
His letter was informative. Nothing I didn't already know. After the Crawler was killed in Albion, the Corrupter came, so I could figure that would happen here. But the ritual? That's definitely new. I skim over the requirements and growl. It's practically a pamphlet on Will for the first page, abilities and what not, how to increase your mana pool yada yada. Very useful for me to increase my power then. The seconds page, the actual ritual...
It's bad. Very, very bad. Inhuman. Most of the ingredients would be tricky to come by, I can only recognise a few. But there's one that is both easy, yet difficult.
Human sacrifice.
I tuck the papers into my shirt, pinning the brooch onto my breast pocket. Satisfied that the chest is emptied, I pick up the torch. I shudder, a chill running down my spine. I take one last glance at the chest.
It's too much right? I can't just kill someone for that.
There's no way? Right?
I can't... I mean, I... just can't.
Can I?
If the Crawler breaks free, then Fable III dictates it will blacken the world, day will become night, four horsemen style apocalypse. We probably could beat that. Maybe. But can we defeat the Crawler AND be ready for the Blight? Nine months has passed in almost a blink of the eye, how much can we prepare for in four years? And can I really kill someone, just on the off-chance that it's for the best? The man who wrote that letter, he said himself, the Crawler was in his mind. Could it be that this ritual is a trick? Can I take that chance.
I had Duncan take me with him because I said he couldn't risk a Blight. But can I risk the Crawler walking free under that same circumstances?
Duncan's words about the darkness inside me ring in my head and I look down, guilt gnawing my stomach. I think if I leave this world – WHEN, happy thoughts – I'm not sure I'll be the same. I think I'll be a monster. I don't think I'll be me.
Leaving my worries for a moment, I continue on my way, hopefully out of this sunken hell.
After maybe an hour of walking I noticed a breeze coming from a path. Another few minutes and I saw sunlight. Dropping the torch, I moved ahead out of the cave.
Ahh, sweet outdoors. I never thought I'd miss you.
Taking stock of my surroundings I'm initially confused. I'm in the middle of a dense woodland. But there's no animals. Not birds in the trees, trees that are dark and gnarled, no evidence of any sort of wildlife.
The Crawler's influence must be spreading...
Thinking back to the ritual I growl. The beast isn't even fully released yet, and already it's evil is tainting the land. If it breaks free... then this is just a taste of what is to come.
No matter what I decide, I can't do this alone. I need to find Duncan. Maybe together, we can come together with a plan. I take a step, then pause.
Duncan's a Grey Warden. Their whole lives are to their duty. Sacrifice one to save many. This may not be concerned with the Blight, but I'm sure he won't allow such darkness to walk Ferelden unimpeded. Which means... he'd do it. My mind darts back to Dragon Age, where Duncan kills Jory at the Joining.
Thinking about it, I think it's only my information pertaining to the blight that has stopped him from shanking MY Jory!
What do I do?
"Shut up mortal," says a hissing voice. Like dead leaves blown in a breeze, bu as it speaks I feel an unclean weight on my mind.
I blink, looking around, one hand on my sword, the other ready to cup flames in the other. I ready myself for a fight, looking around and listening for any movement. All I can hear is the wind rustling leaves, too far away to be where the voice is.
"Sloppy form, just a beginner I presume?" Another joins in. This one has a deep, rich voice filled with warmth.
I slowly turn, expecting to see the Crawler. And while the path to the cave is filled with an unnatural darkness, there's nothing there.
Okay, what the fuck? Is the Crawler in my head?
"Not the sharpest sword in the smithy, is he?" The first laughs cruelly.
"Give him a moment," admonishes the other, "I'm sure after encountering a creature such as the Crawler on does tend to take a moment to doubt their sanity. And hearing voices would hardly alleviate such thoughts."
I scowl unsure before relaxing my grip on the sword. I rub my face tiredly, still vaguely weakened from the wolves and just generally weary of all the crazy shit happening today.
"Yes, I think he has it!" The voice says excitedly.
"Will wonders ever cease," the first drawls sarcastically.
"If you both don't shut up, I'll throw you in the first river I come across," I say in a dark voice. Reaching behind me, I unsheathed the two swords across my back. "So, the sentient souls of the swords I presume? Jack of Blades and the Hero of Oakvale."
"How does he know of us?"
"Yes, how do you know of us? We were unaware that our names would survive this long, so far from our home."
"I know a guy," I say with a shrug. This was sort of expected, but I figured it would take a while for them to wake up, unless... "Did you guys sleep? Or hibernate or something? Or have you been, for lack of a better word mind, awake this whole time? Because that would suck."
"Yes it did, "suck", as you put it young Hero," the voice I'd take to be the Hero says.
"Trust me pal, I ain't no Hero," I say with a chuckle as I look at the blue sword, where I feel the warmer presence. It makes sense that of all the swords the Hero would be trapped in, Avos Tear is it. Christ knows how they got in the swords... or here... with the Crawler.
"No no, Mr goody two shoes speaks the truth. You have the blood of Heroes running through your veins. So now we can finally rule this world," the other says greedily. Jack, I presume, is locked in the Sword of Aeons. I deny the part of me that wants to let his say more.
I am not a rabid dog.
"No Jack, we should protect it. We have no business being here anymore, our time has passed. The time of Heroes has passed. If this Hero had any sense he would have left us in the Temple." The Hero says disapprovingly.
"Temple?" I repeat in puzzlement. Then I shake my head. "No, enough. Look, the Crawler is trying to break free. I need to find my friend. Can you help me?"
There's a moment of silence from both swords, and I feel as though I've just been kicked from party chat.
"The Crawler is free, you say?" Jack repeats, and he almost sounds... worried.
"Almost, the physical seal has broken. Only the magical seal remains, but he's gaining strength. Can we stop him?"
"Not right now you can't," says the Hero after a moment of pondering. "You aren't strong enough. By our estimation, the Crawler will break free from his shackles in four years hence. By that time, you may have acquired the strength to defeat him. Going after it now will only result in your death, an unacceptable conclusion. Only a Hero can prevent the demons ascension."
I chew my lip, both relieved and frustrated at the same time. Sitting around with my finger up my ass while the Crawler gains strength doesn't sound like a good plan. But the alternative doesn't sound any better.
"There will be no placing any extremities into any orifices boy. You have to be strong enough to defeat the monster. That means no lollygagging."
I blink. Can you guys read my thoughts? There's a pause.
"Jack, I was wrong, this man is a buffoon."
Where's that river?
"The entrance to the mine, as I believe you call it, is located a few hours west. You will find your friend there. Go, and leave this place," the Hero says quickly.
With nothing else to say, I sheath the swords and move in a westward direction. Hopefully, having a demon and angel on my shoulder will steer my towards the right path.
Shame they're both assholes.
"We heard that," Jack says indignantly.
I know.
So after another few hours, with two assholes nitpicking behind my back – YES I KNOW YOU HEARD THAT AS WELL – I've learned a whole new meaning to the term "backseat drivers".
The only time they shut up is when I moved close to the stream. Thankful silence.
"You made camp here last night, did you not? We are close to your friend."
I look around and see the fire pit where me and Duncan had slept. Ignoring Oakvale, as I've taken to calling him, I move past it towards the mine. Should only be another hour or so.
"If you used your Will, we'd be there in half the time," Jack says impatiently.
God, do you guys not get the meaning of silence? Shut the hell up. My head was crowded enough without you two barging in.
"Jack, you know he's not strong enough to exert himself like that. Besides, have you not seen what's happened every other time he's used Will? The power is staggering but lacking in precision, finesse," Oakvale says derisively.
"Personally, I've been reviewing his memories from before he came to this country," Jack says, and I'm instantly suspicious.
Despite knowing Jack for millennium, Oakvale doesn't share my wariness. "Oh, you mean the advanced technology? The lack of Will? Of Heroes?"
I hear Jack howl with laughter. "Of course not. That Amy sure was a bendy lass," Jack says lecherously.
Oh, that's fucking it!
I stop, swinging both swords out of their sheaths and slamming them into a tree, roaring as I do so. The blades stick halfway through and come to a shuddering halt. I take a few steps away, cradling my head before turning back, fire in my eyes.
"STAY OUT OF MY HEAD!" I scream in rage. I feel my magic, Will, bubbling under my skin, almost begging to incinerate the blasted blades. I breathe heavily as I try to keep myself under control.
"Very good, constraint is one of the best tools in your arsenal young Hero." Oakvale praises me.
"You," I say, pointing at the Tear, "shut the fuck up. You," I point at Aeon, "stay the fuck out of my head. I'm sick and tired of you two constantly whispering away. I'm going mad just hearing your voices! So new ground rules: number one, shut up. Just shut up, not another word from either of you unless I ask for it. If I hear so much as a peep from now until we meet up with Duncan, I'll leave you for the forest to claim. Two, stay out of my mind. My memories are off limits. If either of you go there, I'll make you regret it. Are we understood," I finish in a low voice. Nothing but silence greets me. "Are we understood," I repeat.
"Yes Hero. We apologise." Says Oakvale humbly.
"And another thing, stop calling me Hero. My name is Sparrow."
"But that's not your real name is it? It's-"
"One more word Jack, and me and Oakvale go alone. Capische?"
"Of course... Sparrow," Jack says, sullenly.
I pull the swords from out of the tree, which takes a few moments of wiggling them around. I sheath them and continue on my merry way.
In silence.
Duncan is surprised to see me, judging by how he pulls his sword when I approach.
"GET BA-. Sparrow?" he asks in shock, his sword lowering a foot. I smile in relief.
"You have no idea how glad I am to see you mate," I say happily, pushing aside his sword and pulling him into a hug which he reciprocates. We pull apart after a moment and he looks at me with happy disbelief.
"But how?" he asks in shock. I take a few steps back – away from the cave – and Duncan follows, looking warily at the mouth of the cave.
"How did you escape?" he asks once the entrance is no longer in sight.
"Honestly, I have no idea," I say, sitting on a tree stump as he stands over me. "I over-used my magic and passed out. When I woke up, I was close to the exit. I've been making my way here for the past few hours. What about you?"
"After you detonated the spell, I followed the path we came through. I didn't see you and suspected that you'd already left. My first instinct was to track you down but I decided it was unnecessary, seeing as how our bags were in front of the mine and you have no money," he casts his eyes down for a moment. "But it would appear that my suspicions were wrong."
"Don't sweat it big man," I say casually as I wave away his words, but inside I'm doing a jig. Like I said before, Duncan was like a teacher, one that I wanted to impress.
"Do you know what that creature was?" he asks, trying to get off the subject. I see praise does not come easily to him.
I scowl in the direction of the mine. "Kinda," I say shaking my hand. "Where I'm from, there was a legend of a creature of darkness that tried to conquer the realm. Only a great Hero, those of a special bloodline, was able to destroy the beast. But, it seems like he only bound it instead."
"Why would he do that?" Duncan asks, and I can tell he's frustrated.
"According to the legend, upon the death of the Crawler, that's pale and ugly in there," I say pointing at the mine. "His master, the Corrupter would be able to cross over into our world."
Duncan strokes his beard thoughtfully. "So the best solution is to prevent the creature from escaping? But how was that done?" My hand moves towards the papers in my belt, and I'm tempted to tell Duncan.
But I stop. I'm not ready yet.
"Leaving the Crawler free to roam is an unwise course of action," Oakvale warns me silently.
In the past, when I've killed it's been self-defense. If I show him the papers... I'm ordering an execution. I can't do that yet. Besides, I have four years to think of something.
"Weak," Jack whispers at the back of my mind. I stiffen, before relaxing and pulling my hand away from the papers.
No, Human.
"I don't think it matters all that much," I say earnestly. Duncan turns to me in surprise. "If the Crawler could escape the mine, it already would've. Which means that the binding spell is still in place. It can't leave. Right now, it's not a particular danger so I say we leave it and move onto other things."
"Like what? We came here to look for the Architect, and all we found was a monster equally as terrible, if your stories are true. And what if this binding fails? This creature could be equally as destructive as the Blight." Duncan crosses his arms and stares at me in dissapproval. I can't help but imagine a "-10" appear next to him.
I sigh in annoyance. We were doing so well. "We don't know how to kill the Crawler. And even if we do, something worse is gonna take it's place. We don't know how to bind the Crawler, and the enchantments lasted this long. And I have another idea of where to go."
Duncan arches an eyebrow. "The Korcari Wilds," I say steadily. Duncan's eyes widen.
"And what the hell are we supposed to do there?" he asks, throwing his arms in the air.
I look up at him and hold his gaze. Behind me, I feel great evil and great good coiling in their sheaths, their energies surrounding me. Further than that, I feel the coldness of the mine, and the monster that lurks within.
"We're going to get an expert opinion on darkness," I say, looking towards the mine. Then I snap back to Duncan and get to my feet. I've never realised it before, but we're almost the same height. "We're off to see the Witch."
A/N: What? Sparrow? What are you doing? Can a chapter go by where you don't propose suicide or a plan that will result in suicide?
Anyhoo, read and review peeps, I haven't been on the site in months and it was your reviews that got me back into the old Fanficker (trademarked :P nah just kidding) spirit once again. So thanks, to all of you who've favourited, followed, reviwed or just plain read this.