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Fable : Fall of the Guild	By : Samson Category: +A through F > Fable Views: 8222 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
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Marst And The Troll.
Fable : Fall of the Guild

Part IV - "Unrest Among The People"

By: Jesse Racine AKA Samson

Original Date Written: August 5, 2011

Marst stood at the entrance to the cave, looking dauntlessly within. She, like all her friends from the Guild, had matured and developed greatly over the course of her training. No longer a girl, she was a young woman, standing tall and proud as a Hero. She had grown quite tall, being nearly six feet and five or six inches tall. Her body was toned with lean muscle due to the constant training of the Guild, along with her own passion for athletic activity. She was dressed in a blue tunic of soft velvet, though an obsidian pauldron with a series of three vertical spikes, about four and a half inches long each, was strapped over her right shoulder, partially fastened to the fabric of her tunic, itself. Along part of the left sleeve of her tunic, from her shoulder down to her elbow, there was a series of obsidian plates protecting her arm. Her sleeves ended at her elbows, but her forearms were still protected due to her vambraces. A pair of black obsidian metal plates were fastened over her forearms from her wrists to her elbows, the plates over the backs of her limbs to protect them from incoming enemy blows.
The metal of the vambraces both had a large design prominently done into them, the design shaped like a bear of sorts, though lean and possibly quite agile when compared to a typical bear. Wrapped snugly around her waist was a thick sash of dark purple velvet, dark red triangles designed all along the length of the belt, the triangles all pointed downwards. Over the small of her back, several pockets were located in her belt, all closed via buttons. Though the tunic reached down to the upper reaches of her thighs, it wasn't long enough to suit her as a skirt anymore, which the tunic could double as while she was still a child. Still wishing to wear a skirt however, Marst simply wore another one beneath her tunic, one which would actually reach the lower reaches of her thighs, near her knees. It was pleated and more spacious than one would imagine, allowing Marst to retain a strong freedom for movement. The skirt was coloured blue like her tunic, though because it wasn't made of velvet and was made of a different material, it stood out due to a different texture, and thus, a different shine when exposed to light.
She wore tall dark brown boots which went up part of her calves, the boots snugly fastened with a pair of buckles located over their fronts. Her long, dark brown hair was still tied in a ponytail behind her, though was now long enough to reach down between her shoulder blades. Her dark brown eyes were still warm and friendly, and hadn't lost any of the protective gleam they had had while she was a child with all of her Guild comrades. Wearing a bit of light blue eye shadow, she was wearing a light hint of pink lipstick, showing that she cared enough about her appearance to use a bit of cosmetics. Looking around twenty or so years old, she hadn't developed much curves, having less-than-average curves in her chest, though still being curvy enough that she had never lacked confidence for her looks. Her backside was of average curves on the other hand, though was more or less hidden under her tunic and skirt. Standing in her right hand, leaning close to her side, was a glaive, a spear-like weapon.
The handle of the weapon was like a staff, standing two meters tall, stout and capable of powerful hits. Attached to the top of staff, however, was a blade about eighteen inches long, thick and having a tapered point. On the backside of the blade, there was a long spike, pointed upwards and towards the tip of the main blade. The blade was decorated with many of Marst's own designs, her own personal good-luck charms and favourite symbols. Marst had had the weapon ever since she had left the Guild, many months before. Always preferring the glaive due to stories of the Hero Whisper she heard and was inspired by as a child, as a Hero of Skill, she could wield it with blinding speed and deadly accuracy. She glanced off to the side for a few moments. The cave she was standing before was set into a dark gray cliff wall, tall and thickly green trees reaching up towards the sky all around her. No path led to the cave, suggesting that it wasn't a cave that was frequently visited by humans.
The sun had barely risen in the sky, showing it was still quite early in the morning, the forest around Marst still slightly dark. She slowly took in a deep breath before exhaling rapidly, looking over into the cave entrance once again. A small smile coming on her lips, she began to head into the cave, picking her glaive up in her right hand. She had gone to the secluded cave for a single reason; her Quest Card requested it, along with the death of the cave's occupant. The occupant of the cave was not one Marst had any experience fighting, though she had read extensively on how to slay even the mightiest beasts of Albion, and so felt she could handle it.
The cave was cold and clammy, small pools of water having collected wherever there was a slight dip in the rocky floor. The cave seemed entirely devoid of life as Marst descended through it's dark passages, the darkness eventually becoming so overwhelming that Marst was forced to light a small makeshift torch with some flint. Heading deeper and deeper into the earth, she eventually made her way to a large, circular cavern, a large pool of water resting along the floor of the cavern; this was the lair of the beast. Her light barely illuminated the creature, but it was unmistakable to Marst once she saw it. It was still dormant, still sleeping, still safely unaware of her presence. It looked like a huge rocky mound in the middle of the cavern, jutting up from the ground and the water that covered it, looking lighter than the rest of the dark brown rock of the cavern, looking more like a rustic red. Marst's face grew more grim as she eyed the creature, narrowing her eyes and tightening her grip on her weapon.
The firelight flickered across her face, banishing the shadows from her features as she fearlessly approached the creature ahead. When she was still several feet from the beast, it awoke. The ground shook violently. The walls echoed with sound as the massive stone mound suddenly rose, pulling itself from the ground. Pulling itself out of a deep pit in the ground that acted as it's sleeping hole, the creature's arms slammed down on either side of the hole, using unthinkable physical power to hoist it's massive body from the ground. It's eyes snapped open in dark fury, staring right at Marst. It was a rock troll, humongous and incredibly powerful, it's entire body seemingly made of nothing but giant hunks of fused stone. It roared out in a deep and rumbling voice, it's voice bouncing off of the cave walls rapidly. It's arm, alone, was longer than Marst was tall, many times thicker than her, as well. It's eyes, the whites black while the irises were bright and shining blue, continued to watch her as the troll pushed itself up on it's feet.
Standing multiple times her height, it was unusual in that it's face was over it's torso, it's shoulders so big that they fused with the troll's head, leaving no appendage sticking out above it's body. Planting it's feet on either side of it's large sleeping hole, it shook the ground with it's mighty movements. Marst quickly tossed her torch off to the side, the fire all but dying when it hit the ground. She didn't need the torch, any longer. She'd know her way out of the cave when the time came, and until then, the troll, itself, produced all the light Marst needed. As it rose, several short tendrils of sorts pushed out of circular holes along the troll's body, the tendrils covered with ribbed bunches of flesh, giving them a very maggot-like appearance. The tendrils gave off a yellow glow, giving off just enough to dimly illuminate the air around the troll. It bent over and fearsomely roared, holding it's arms out behind itself and towards the sides, opening it's dark mouth wide.
Marst wasted no time. Sprinting towards the troll, she jumped up on a small boulder, propelling herself from it towards the troll's frontside. The troll stopped shouting and swung it's hands over, trying to clap them together and crush Marst. She zoomed right between it's hands, feeling the rushing air of them as they slammed together, hearing the mighty boom they made. Ramming into the troll's right shoulder, she quickly scrambled over it, pulling herself on to it's body. It slammed it's right hand towards it's shoulder, but she jumped out of the way before she was crushed. Gritting her teeth, standing on top of the troll's head, she stabbed her glaive down at a tendril sticking out of the troll's back. It was a tough organ, but a few quick jabs from Marst proved effective. Slashing off about half of the tendril, the troll roared in pain, quickly raising and slamming it's hand down on top of it's torso, Marst gasping before rolling to the side, narrowly avoiding the troll's attack at the cost of rolling off of it's body entirely.
Grunting when she hit the rocky ground by the troll's left leg, her eyes widened when she spotted the troll raise it's foot, prepared to stomp her into a red paste. Quickly rolling backwards, she propelled herself off of her hands, jumping up in a backflip and landing deftly on her feet. The troll slammed it's foot down but realized that it had missed her, and it angrily reached upwards, grabbing a chunk of the rocky ceiling. Marst was about to jab at another of the troll's nerve tendrils when it broke the chunk free of the ceiling, Marst's eyes widening. She turned and took off in a sprint, the troll pulling it's arm back. Marst ran towards a nearby wall in the cave's bottom chamber. Just as the troll threw the boulder, Marst's speedy feet met the cave's wall. She ran up the cave's wall for a good seven gravity-defying steps until she jumped off of the wall in a high backflip, the troll's boulder smashing into the cave wall and cracking in half, Marst safely landing on her feet by the destroyed boulder.
The cavern shook with the boulder's impact, the sound of her running footsteps swallowed by the deafening roar and subsequent echoes. She jumped up as the troll swung for her, rolling over the back of the troll's fist, rolling off over the side of it's large wrist. Though fairly humanoid in appearance, the troll has no genitalia to speak of, nothing for Marst to bump in to as she ran closer to the troll. Jumping over it's massive pit, heading between it's legs, she made it to the other side of the pit, turning around and jamming the point of her glaive into another of the troll's nerve tendrils. The troll shouted in pain and anger, and suddenly, all of the remaining nerve tendrils shot back into the troll's rocky body, disappearing. The troll promptly turned around, raising it's fists together and clenching tight. Marst heard the air whistle as the troll brought it's massive fists downwards, barely having time to dive to the side before the troll hit the ground with it's fists.
It hit the ground so powerfully that a small shockwave rushed through the ground, crushing a bit of rocky flooring though missing Marst. Dust from the crushed patch of flooring rushed past Marst as she hit the ground, quickly jumping back to her feet. When the troll swooped over with a flattened hand, perhaps hoping to quickly smash into Marst's legs hard enough to shatter calf bones and leave her immobile, Marst simply jumped in the air, doing a cartwheel mid-air and dodging the troll's stony hand. As soon as she landed on her feet again, the troll's nerve tendrils slinked back out of it's body, and she threw her glaive over so powerfully that the glaive rammed into the troll's small opening for the organ, totally destroying the nerve tendril in the process. The troll writhed for a moment, Marst using the moment to her advantage. Sprinting forwards, she jumped up towards the troll, her feet coming down on top of the shaft of her glaive.
Her weapon jammed into the creature didn't provide enough support for her, and she was forced to grab on to part of the troll's rocky skin just to steady herself. As the troll quickly reached for her, she hoisted herself upwards, skilfully climbing along the troll's body. Before she could reach it's face, however, it had grabbed her by her right leg. Marst gasped when the troll pulled her from it's body, holding her out in the air, turning her upside-down at it held her leg between a few huge fingers.
Marst glanced upwards, which was truly downwards given her position, and spotted the troll's other hand to be coming up for her head. Gritting her teeth, she quickly bent her body, reaching up towards her feet. She undid her boots, one per hand, in hardly a single second. Wiggling her leg as well as she could, she slipped it out of the troll's grip, falling down heavily to the troll's other hand as it came up. The rocky troll, angered further by Marst's continuing survival, brought up the fist it had been holding her leg in, but only for a second before suddenly shooting it down towards it's open hand. Marst rolled out of the troll's hand, sliding down the length of it's arm. She slid off of the troll's arm, reaching out desperately with her hands, catching herself by grabbing hold of her glaive, still jutted into one of the troll's nerve holes. Planting her feet against the troll, she pulled her glaive from the troll's body at the same time she did a strong backflip, barely landing on her feet at the edge of the troll's sleeping hole.
She gritted her teeth and braced herself for a heavy throw, pulling her arm back as the troll reached out to her. Launching the glaive over, it slammed into a nerve tendril on the underside of the troll's forearm, partially impaling through the organ. The troll pulled it's arm back in a snap, roaring in pain, Marst grinning slightly with triumph. The troll furiously grabbed Marst's glaive, ripping it from it's nerve opening, an almost whimper-like sound coming from it. It threw Marst's glaive off to the side, Marst watching it fly off into the darkness and clatter against the cave's floor. She knew she needed her weapon to kill the beast; she had never heard of any Hero that had ever managed to kill a troll unarmed, and she wasn't arrogant enough to assume that she'd be the first. She took off in a full sprint after where she had heard the glaive land, hearing a rocky rumble behind her, coming from the troll. She found her glaive in moments, lying innocently on the ground, the metal of the weapon's tip barely glinting in the light from the troll's nerve tendrils.
Grabbing it, she turned around just in time to see the troll pull a chunk of rock from the ceiling, almost boulder-like in size. Tossing the rock over in her direction, she quickly dove forwards and to the side, just barely dodging the rock. She sprinted towards the troll, raising her glaive with one hand, holding the point forwards as she kept the weapon up by her shoulder. The troll raised it's fists, roaring as it slammed it's fists down into the ground. While Marst wasn't beneath the troll's fists, she had been moving too quickly towards the troll with her eyes on it's face to notice the incoming blow, let alone dodge it. The troll rammed it's fists down against the ground, crumbling part of the ground, sending shards of rock out on the air. Marst was hit by the shockwave produced by the immensely powerful blow, and was sent flying through the air for several meters, crashing back down to the ground in a painful jumble. The troll let out a deep, rumbling laugh, mocking Marst, watching her fly through the air like a ragdoll.
Narrowing her eyes in anger, Marst rose to her feet, racing for the troll once more. It pulled back a fist, ready to punch her straight into an early grave. As the troll shot out a massive stone fist, Marst suddenly jumped up into the air, twirling expertly as she landed on the troll's fist. Sprinting along it's arm before it could reach over with the other, she shouted in anger, jamming her glaive into the troll's right eye. The troll practically screamed, it's jaws going wide open in panic. It moved it's arms with panicked energy, Marst gasping as she was smacked off of the troll's body, yanking her glaive out of the troll's eye socket as she was smashed away. Ramming against the ground behind the troll by it's sleeping pit, she did a few rolls against the ground before she, in a flashy manner, used the momentum of her rolls to suddenly jump up into the air and twirl to her feet. The troll quickly turned around to face her, the disabling loss of one of it's eyes causing it to view Marst as a predator instead of prey, and thus, something that required more strength to destroy.
Marst began to run for the troll when it suddenly raised a fist with surprising agility, smashing it down in Marst's direction. A small shockwave was sent out, and Marst barely managed to dodge it by jumping, ramming against the troll's clenched fist. It shot it's fingers out, swinging Marst over to the side. As she stumbled, it swung it's other hand over, attempting to grab her in it's lethal crushing grip. Marst gasped as the troll managed to grab her, picking her up with such speed that she accidentally dropped her glaive. Her eyes going wide, she knew she was in a very dangerous situation. Heroes can survive trauma that would shatter the bones of ordinary people, this she knew; she wasn't willing to see if the scope of that trauma included a troll's grip, however. Raising her hands before the troll's fingers fully wrapped around her body, she planted her hands against the inside of the troll's thumb, pushing with all her might.
She and the troll were instantly brought to a stalemate. Marst was gritting her teeth tight, her eyes wide, her arms shaking violently as she just barely managed to stop the troll's finger from completing her stony tomb within the creature's grip. the other fingers close around her, she barely had room to keep her arms out, the troll's remaining fingers keeping her back snugly pressed to the creature's palm. The troll looked at Marst with surprise for a moment, perhaps not expecting a small human to be able to defy it's raw strength. Unfortunately for Marst, the troll had barely been using any pressure; it hadn't thought it would need any. It began to press harder with it's thumb, and Marst didn't bother trying to resist. Instead, she grabbed the top of the thumb, pulling herself out of the troll's hand quick enough to open multiple scrapes and rips along her exposed legs, the troll's stone skin catching against her clothing, almost tugging her skirt down.
She managed to pull herself up on top of the troll's fist just before it pressed it's thumb against it's hand, closing any space left in it's fist. Marst quickly jumped down from the troll's hand before it could swing it's fist around and knock her off of it's limb. Finding her glaive, she grabbed it and took off in a run. Beginning to pant and sweat from her exertions, she made her way around the troll before it could turn around, spotting another nerve tendril on the huge creature's mid back. Launching her glaive over, it rammed through the wriggling maggot-like nerve, destroying it completely. The glaive rammed into the troll's nerve socket, causing even further pain and damage to the troll's body. The troll, seemingly overcome with pain, began to flail it's arms around and roar in agony, Marst realizing the creature must've finally been brought close to death. She jumped for the creature's backside, grabbing hold of her glaive. Jiggling the weapon around in the troll's nerve socket seemed to flare pain in it, as it suddenly let out a howl-like cry of pain, shaking around in a panic.
Suddenly, as it moved it's right foot, it seemed to misstep, as it's foot dipped down into the troll's sleeping hole. It's balance tipped, Marst felt the troll begin to collapse towards it's right side. She held on tight, and felt her stomach lurch as she fell through the air with the troll. When it hit the ground, the entire cavern shook, the walls and floor vibrating so powerfully that it was audible even after the deafening boom of the troll's impact had stopped echoing. Marst had been knocked to the ground in the heavy impact. Fearful that the collapsed troll might roll over on to it's back and crush her beneath it, she quickly got back to her feet, grabbing her glaive. Planting a foot against the troll's stone back, she yanked the glaive out of it's nerve socket, quickly taking several steps backwards in case the troll did roll over. The troll, however, did not stir. Barely taking little gasps for air, it's single remaining nerve tendril cast only a faint glow.
It was located over the back of it's left forearm, and Marst wasted no time. Showing no pity to the immense and powerful creature, she followed what her Quest Card had asked her to do. Jumping up on the troll's body, she eyed the remaining nerve tendril, raising up her glaive with the point aimed downwards. With a grunt, she rammed the glaive down into the nerve socket, destroying the final nerve tendril. The troll shook and let off a loud roar for a moment before it abruptly trailed off. Going entirely still, the mighty behemoth had been slain. Now in almost total darkness, Marst felt no fear, filled with a sense of triumph and accomplishment. Finding the passage she had taken to head deeper into the cave system, she began to exit the cavern, the troll no longer posing a threat to anyone.
The night before Marst's slaying of a troll, Timoteo and Darrah still sat by the fire of their camp, waiting for Bianca to return. Once she did, they saw that she had returned with a mature deer. Timoteo and Darrah were practically licking their chops as they waited for the smiling Bianca to finish preparing the deer's body, cutting into it and taking pieces of edible meat. After a few minutes of waiting, a thought came to Timoteo. He hadn't realized it at first, but once he had, curiosity ran strong inside him. "Darrah's mentioned a brother a bunch of times...But...When she told me about her childhood, she never mentioned a brother. Her father and mother, yes, a sister, yes...But she never said anything about a brother." His face a bit puzzled, he decided to ask Darrah about it, lightly touching the back of a hand to her upper arm. Glancing over to him curiously, he nodded off to the side, signalling that he wanted privacy with her. Darrah looked at him curiously for a moment before she simply nodded, walking off with him into a few nearby trees.
"What's up?" She asked as they walked away from Bianca and the fire pit, Darrah crossing her arms over her chest. Timoteo was quiet for a moment before saying "When you told me about...You know, the stuff when you were a kid..." Darrah's expression went soft, and she glanced downwards for a moment. Timoteo continued, saying "...You never said anything about a brother. But, you've mentioned one a few times..." Darrah tilted her head back, raising her chin. Her mouth hung open for a second, and she looked off to the side. "...Ah. You were wondering about him?" Timoteo nodded slightly, saying "If he was close enough to you that you slept with him to feel comfortable, then..." He shrugged lightly, raising an eyebrow, saying "Well, it just seems kind of weird that you wouldn't mention him at all." Darrah continued to look off to the side for a few seconds, lowering her chin again the same time she looked back over to his eyes. "..." She was silent for a moment.
Timoteo let her find her words. When she spoke, it was in a soft voice, subdued and gentle. "I don't think I'm ready to talk about him, yet...Maybe...In time. He was...Special to me. I don't think I've ever met a soul quite like him." Darrah looked downwards, blinking lightly. She let out a light sigh through her nose, shaking her head for a moment. She suddenly smiled, letting out a light chuckle, saying "I suppose, after telling you about Jeremy and breaking down in front of you, talking about my brother wouldn't be such a big deal." She looked up to his eyes, still smiling warmly as she said "But I'd rather not air all my darkest memories in one night. Stuff like that tends to be traumatic." Timoteo felt like she was joking, smiling as he said "Traumatic?" Darrah suddenly lost her smile, looking downwards again. "...Simply having a talk about what happened to Jeremy won't fix it. It feels sort of good to have told someone after all this time, but...Just talking about it won't magically undo it all."
Her face became increasingly downcast, and she seemed to grow increasingly depressed for a moment before she suddenly raised her head, taking in a soft breath, her eyes regaining their usual gleam. "But...If I feel up to talking about it, you'll be the first to know, okay?" Timoteo nodded, saying "That's all I could ask for." Darrah nodded lightly, beginning to head back to Bianca. Timoteo followed after her, and the two waited for a bit longer as Bianca finished up with her preparations. When Bianca had finished and was handing Darrah a few hunks of meat to cook over the fire, she lightly asked "So, did Tim help you with your problem?..." Darrah raised her eyebrows at Bianca, looking at her with confusion. Bianca elaborated, saying "He said that you wanted him to stay with you and talk about something. He said it seemed serious. Is everything okay, now?" Darrah looked back to the fire, draping a large hunk of meat over a flat stone kept suspended over the fire. "...Yeah. Everything's fine, now." Darrah said in a bit of a flat tone.
Timoteo sat by the fire and watched the two of them quietly, watching Darrah as she knelt by the fire's side as well, opposite Timoteo. Bianca stood by her slain deer, and as she handed another piece of meat to Darrah, Darrah suddenly said "So, your parents are...Not in your life, I assume?" Darrah said, surprising Timoteo slightly, Timoteo having been sure that Darrah would simply use blunt words, not skirt around using the word "dead" when asking about Bianca's parents. Bianca froze for a moment and was silent, but eventually, she quietly said "...My father is. My mother isn't, as far as I know." Darrah stared at the meat cooking over the fire as she said "The banshee made it sound like your parents were dead." Bianca quietly said "No it didn't, you're simply interpreting it's words that way. It tried telling me that..." Bianca fell silent for a moment before handing Darrah another hunk of meat, saying "It tried telling me that my mother died at sea. I doubt that. I get the feeling she's still somewhere in Albion..."
"Did she kill your dad?" Darrah asked. Bianca didn't reply for a moment. "I don't feel like talking about it..." She eventually said in little more than a hushed mumble, barely audible over the crackling and popping of the fire pit. Timoteo didn't blame Bianca for not wanting to open up to another person about what had happened. Not only was the subject something immensely personal, but Darrah and Bianca had had an extremely rocky relationship over the last few days. Since their fight however, Timoteo had noticed things cool off between the two, but still, that didn't mean Bianca had forgotten about Darrah's previous treatment. "If only Bianca could have heard Darrah apologize...If she could have heard Darrah say that Bianca didn't deserve it, things might be a lot smoother..." Darrah nodded slightly, saying "Well...That's alright. I understand." Darrah was quiet for a moment before Bianca handed her another hunk of meat.
When she did, Darrah hesitated for a moment before saying "...If you ever want to talk to someone about it..." Bianca spoke before Darrah could continue, speaking more firmly than she had moments before, saying "Darrah, it's alright. I don't want to speak of it." Suddenly turning to Darrah, Bianca held up her left wrist, her bracelet clinking as it moved along her wrist, glinting in the firelight. Bianca's face was fairly cold as she said "You gave me enough trouble about this bracelet, I don't need things to get worse by telling you the full truth. So, no, I don't want to talk about it." Darrah's eyes widened slightly for a moment before they partially closed, the girl letting out a subtle sigh through her mouth. "...Okay...Didn't mean to hit any nerves, I just..." She raised her eyebrows, shrugging for a moment. "Nevermind." She eventually muttered. Bianca finished handing Darrah the hunks of edible meat she had taken from the slain deer, and the three feasted until their stomachs were fit to burst, yet there was still meat left over. All cooked and ready to be eaten, Darrah simply wrapped up and packaged any leftover meat, stuffing it all in her pack. The trio doused their fire and laid down for rest, Timoteo quickly slipping into a deep slumber...
Darkness filled Timoteo's mind as he slept. The darkness was welcome, it provided a reprieve from the struggles of waking reality. But the darkness turned against Timoteo's mind, eventually. It brought him his fears, made him view terrible things. A nightmare came to him in the dead of night, life-like and horrible, as all nightmares are. He found himself in a dark forest, similar to the images of Darkwood Bianca had sent to him on his first night out of the Guild. Dead trees, lacking foliage of any and all kinds, stood tall and withered around him. Up ahead, he saw Bianca. She looked as she always did, though she had a look of unrestrained terror on her face when she saw him. She seemed almost paralyzed with fear as he marched up to her. He saw himself raise his hands, violently grabbing Bianca by her throat, digging his thumbs into her as he squeezed, beginning to choke her. Bianca struggled, grabbing his wrists, trying to pull away from him.
She shut her eyes tight, her mouth hanging open for a second before she grit and bared her teeth. Timoteo continued to choke her for almost a minute before Bianca grew weak enough to begin collapsing. Her expression growing weaker and weaker, she barely choked out his name, opening her bleary eyes a crack. She fell down to her knees, Timoteo falling with her, continuing to strangle her. Tears began to well in her eyes. She let out a few choked sounds for air before her hands fell from his wrists entirely. She went limp. Timoteo continued to choke her for a minute, seemingly making sure she was dead. When he finally released her, he let her collapse to her back on the ground, slowly rising to his feet over her. That's when Timoteo awoke, shooting up into a bit of a sitting position before he opened his eyes a crack, falling back to his elbows. He sighed. His heart was racing. A cold sweat covered his body. He took a minute to relax, constantly telling himself that what he had seen was only a dream.
He'd never hurt Bianca, that much he knew. It was only a nightmare, perhaps spurred by the banshee's haunting words and whispers. Looking over to Bianca, he saw her sleeping peacefully, breathing slowly and silently. He smiled a little, wishing he could hold her close, though willing to wait until morning to do so. Interrupting her sleep would be beyond rude, and doing so simply to hold her close would possibly make him seem like a pervert. Timoteo laid back down on his makeshift bedding, resigning himself back to sleep...
Nearby in the trees, sitting up on a thick branch, a strange figure watched the camp. Wearing a full suit of dark leather armour, he had a pair of gloves on each hand, a long claw extending from the back of each of the glove's fingers, as if the man meant to imitate the paws of an animal. His head was wrapped up tight in black ribbon, almost like bandages. Not a hint of skin or hair was visible. Over his eyes, however, he wore blackened goggles, the goggles securely strapped around his head. A black scarf was wrapped around the man's throat, a large red sword designed into the scarf's length along one end, showing prominently over the man's chest. His boots were large and black, fastened tight to the man's feet. He didn't appear to have any weapons with him, aside from the claws on his gloves, though the man seemed rather muscular, so perhaps the claws alone were his weapons, aided by his physical power. He watched Timoteo as he laid back down on his bed, watching as he fell back asleep.
He had been following the group for a few days, by that point. And until he received further orders, he would continue to watch, and only watch...But orders for different action could arrive any hour, any minute.
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Fable : Fall of the Guild