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Fable : Fall of the Guild	By : Samson Category: +A through F > Fable Views: 8231 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
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Benedict's Approach.
Fable : Fall of the Guild

Part VI - "The Hunts"

By: Jesse Racine AKA Samson

Original Date Written: January 26, 2012

As Timoteo and Bianca walked along towards Jadestone, then on their second day towards the community, they noticed that they were coming to a clifftop. It was small, easily enough for the two to jump down and simply continue towards their destination, Timoteo promptly jumping down over the face of the cliff. Bianca jumped down shortly after him, Timoteo helping her to land properly, her heeled boots leaving her landing a little less balanced than was proper. As she landed, they both suddenly heard stone begin to move, a sort of manly yawn sounding out. They both quickly looked over, Timoteo's hand darting to his steel mace. They paused when they saw what had made the sound, however. It was a Demon Door. Designed into the face of the short cliff, a tall archway had been constructed, a door of sorts blocking the passageway. A design of a flat elderly man's face had suddenly come to life over the door, pressing out from the stone, bulging out and looking like it had been carved over the stone instead of being flat against it.
The man had a protruding brow, casting heavy shadows over his stone eyes. His beard was heavy and thick with curling locks, the man's stone eyelids shooting up and down as he sleepily blinked a few times. He looked at the two, speaking with a rather sophisticated accent as he said "Oh, it's been some time since anybody's come to visit me. You'd think people would be more interested in the treasures I hold. Guess nobody cares about me, anymore." Timoteo raised an eyebrow, he and Bianca glancing at each other, meeting eyes for a second before looking back to the Demon Door. The Demon Door spoke again, his deeply masculine voice materializing from his stone mouth as he spoke. "I used to be someone important, you know. I used to critique art. People from all over this country would come to me for my highly-valued opinion. I made and broke artists!" Timoteo crossed his arms over his chest, the Demon Door continuing, his tone going a little regretful.
"But, I gave a rather negative review to one particular artist, one day...It was honest, though. His paintings were pure rubbish! Well, that artist wanted revenge for me ending his career before it had even begun. So, you know what he did?" Bianca lightly said "He turned you into a Demon Door?" The Demon Door flatly said "No. He got a mage to turn me into one." Bianca raised an eyebrow for a second before relaxing. "Don't you want something in exchange for opening?" Timoteo asked. The Demon Door said "Yes, I do...Art made my life, and it brought my death. Well...Transformation into what I am now. So, you know what I want?...I want you to bring me an exquisite piece of art. Priceless, even. And then..." The Demon Door's brow was already exaggerated with it's archs, with how it seemed immensely furrowed, but it seemed to deepen even further as the entity coldly spoke it's next words. "...I want you to burn it. Right in front of me. Let me watch it turn to ashes. Do that, and I'll open for you."
Timoteo shrugged a little. "We don't have any art on us." He said. The Demon Door said "Well, that's what I want! If you want what I have, get some art and bring it back here. A torch, too. Otherwise, setting fire to it could be a problem." Bianca glanced at Timoteo, saying "Come on, we're wasting time." Timoteo nodded slightly, the two turning from the Demon Door and continuing on the way to Jadestone.

After another two and a half days of travel, the trees began to thin. The two saw stone dwellings through the trees, smoke rising up into the sky above the treetops. Walking quickly, the trees quickly thinned to nothingness at the village outskirts, the two at last entering the isolated Jadestone. The village covered a large plain as well as a hill nearby with dwellings, all made out of stone, many having smoke trailing from their chimneys. Bianca raised her hands and pulled up her hood, a few villagers walking by. They were dressed in conservative clothes, the women wearing long, baggy dresses, the men wearing big coats and loose pants. The group of villagers, numbering six in total, stopped when they saw the two enter the community through the trees. They looked between them, their eyes turning uneasy when they looked to Bianca, despite being unable to see her face, and thus, see that she were an evil Hero.
Perhaps that was why they were afraid, the villagers possibly thinking she had something to hide if she had her hood up to shadow her face. The two walked over towards the villagers, Timoteo raising a hand in greeting, saying "Hello, is this Jadestone?" A man in the group nodded, saying "Yep, it is. What's an outsider like you come to our village for?" The man's tone wasn't hostile, but it was a little suspicious, most of the group still keeping their eyes on Bianca. Timoteo said "We're looking for someone. She might've come this way. A woman, name of Octavia." The villagers all glanced at each other, raising eyebrows. Genuine looks of puzzlement crossed their faces before they looked at the two again. The man who had spoken shook his head, and another, a woman, said "Nobody here is named Octavia. Pretty fancy name, we'd know if someone around here had that kind of style about them." Bianca spoke, the group all looking at her, some almost seeming startled to hear her voice cut in so suddenly.
"She may be insane. She's certainly dangerous." The man raised his eyebrows slightly, shaking his head, saying "We're being honest, we've never heard of anyone by that name." Before Timoteo could say anything, Bianca spoke again, saying "She might have gray skin. Red or green eyes. She had black hair." One of the women in the group furrowed her brow, saying "Look, we haven't seen-" A man in the group cut the other off, saying "If you really want help looking for someone, try the town hall. Ask for Jeremiah. He always knows about outsiders coming to Jadestone." Before Bianca could say anything, if she truly had desired to say more, Timoteo spoke. "Thank you, we appreciate it. We'll try the town hall. Where is it, what does it look like?" A man in the group pointed a thumb over his shoulder, down a street nearby. "Down the street there, follow it until you get to the square. Big well's there. The town hall's the big three-floored building. Can't miss it."
Timoteo thanked them again, the villagers nodding, walking off together. Timoteo and Bianca started heading down the dirt path making up the village street, Bianca quietly saying "I wonder if my mother passed through here disguised. Maybe she just walked through to another destination." "Maybe. But let's check with this "Jeremiah" guy, anyway." Timoteo said. The two walked down the street in silence, glancing around every now and then. They'd both notice villagers spot them and peer at them with suspicious eyes, but nobody confronted them or expressed obvious hostility. When the two arrived at the town square, they found a large well made of dark stones, a fairly large roof over it to keep unwanted objects from falling down into the well's depths. Villagers walked through the town square in heavy numbers, any and all that noticed the two casting wondering glances their way. They spotted the town hall easily enough; across the town square, on the other side of the well from where they were positioned, a tall building made out of bright brown wood could be seen.
With three floors, windows could be seen over it's face in numerous places, the front doors being located at the top of a short flight of wooden steps. Timoteo felt Bianca slip her hand into his, threading fingers with him. He gave her hand a light squeeze as the two set off into the crowd together, weaving their way through the villagers. When they reached the town hall, they didn't release each other's hand. Walking up the steps together, Timoteo pushed open one of the double doors, letting Bianca step through the doorway before he entered. The front room of the town hall was large, potted plants situated near the walls on either side of them. A long crimson rug was lain over the floor in a row, leading from the double doors to a desk on the other side of the room. On either side of the desk, a wooden staircase could be seen, leading up to the second floor of the building. Doorways could be seen in the walls to the left and right, far on the other side of the room.
The doorways weren't behind the desk or beside the staircases, leading to other areas of the fairly-sized building's first floor. A man stood behind the desk on the far side of the room, looking down with a serious face at something before him. Bianca couldn't see what the man was looking at due to her eye condition, but Timoteo could tell that the man was looking at a book. The two walked across the room, their footwear hardly making any sound against the rug on the floor, the two approaching the desk in seconds. "Hello?" Timoteo said. The man held up a hand, pointing up his index finger, wordlessly asking for a moment before he gave his attention to them. After a few seconds, Timoteo raised his eyebrows a little, saying "Jeremiah?" The man lowered his hand, but he still didn't look at them. He looked to be in his late fourties, his hair having long ago turned as gray as steel. He must've had weak eyes, as he wore a pair of spectacles.
His spectacles were perched precariously on the bridge of his nose, looking liable to slip down at any second. He wore a white wool sweater, his pants baggy and a rather unflattering shade of brown. His lips were thin, the chin below prominent and cleft. "How can I help you?" He asked, his eyes still glued down on his book. "We're looking for someone." Timoteo said. "Don't know their name?" He asked. "We do. Octavia." Timoteo responded. Jeremiah's face went perplexed for a moment. "Octa...?" He muttered, finally looking up at the two of them, trailing off as he did so.

He relaxed when he took in their appearance. "Oh. Outsiders. That explains it." He said, matter-of-factly. Jeremiah shook his head lightly, saying "Sorry, don't know anyone by that name. Folks around here don't bother with fancy names like that." He looked back down to his book, Bianca softly saying "She might've had grey skin, or red-" Jeremiah cut her off, not even looking at her as he said "Now's not really a good time. I don't know any Octavias." Unknown to both Timoteo and Jeremiah, Bianca clenched her right hand tight, her hidden face not revealing how her staring eyes almost burned holes right through Jeremiah's face. The two slowly released hands as Timoteo asked "Well, what's the issue? Maybe we can help." Jeremiah hastily raised a hand, waving carelessly at Timoteo, saying "No, no, I appreciate the thought, but..." He paused, trailing off. He lowered his hand, looking back up to the two of them, nodding gently.
"You know what, yeah, actually. Maybe you could help. You're an outsider anyway, probably used to travelling." He glanced down at his book, saying "The caravan from Deepwood hasn't arrived, yet. Should've been here two days ago. No idea why they're late, they've sent no messenger. I've wanted to send someone over to the town of Grove to try and see what's wrong, but everyone's been too busy with other stuff. I can't go, and I don't want to hire some random villager in off the street. For all we know, something could've happened to Grove, Avo forbid." "Bandits, maybe?" Timoteo said, raising an eyebrow. Jeremiah's face went ashen. "I hope not." He quietly muttered. Bianca slowly unclenched her hand, relaxing, reaching up and into her cloak. She pulled out the map she and Timoteo had bought, unfolding it a few times to get a look at it. Timoteo looked over to her. Softly, she said "Grove would've been our next stop, anyway. We might as well go."
Jeremiah asked "You don't really think it was bandits, do you? I've never heard of them going as far east as Deepwood! Don't they normally attack little towns, like Oakvale?" Bianca folded up the map again and slipped it back into her cloak, coolly saying "This is a little town, Jeremiah." Jeremiah looked to Bianca for a moment with worry, then his expression began to turn hostile. "What do you know? We're fine, living the way we do. We don't need to be fools prancing around some city, worrying about things like fashion and how we're going to get governed by some corrupt leader. Outsiders aren't welcome!" His tone getting heated, he said "Every time somebody from the outside comes, there's always problems! Well, I-" Bianca suddenly raised a hand, slamming a fist down against Jeremiah's desk. Her strike was so forceful that it almost made Jeremiah jump with shock.
Bianca's tone was notably cold as she muttered "Listen to me, Jeremiah. If I found out that Octavia passed through here and nobody wanted to tell me simply because I wasn't born here, you'll see what kinds of problems an aggravated outsider can really make." Jeremiah's face was calm, but Timoteo could tell that he was now afraid of Bianca. His eyes had lost the fire that had been growing inside them. Timoteo lightly placed a hand on Bianca's shoulder, saying nothing. Bianca glanced in his direction, her hand slowly relaxing over Jeremiah's desk. She withdrew her arm a moment later, silent once again as she looked back to Jeremiah. Timoteo looked to Jeremiah, giving him a single nod, saying "We'll check in on Grove. It's on our way, anyway." Jeremiah nodded lightly, looking to Bianca as he said "I appreciate it. Let me know if you find anything out."
He subtly tried peering into Bianca's hood, having never been able to make it out with her hood shadowing her features away. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to see to something. I'll have to ask you to leave, I don't want any trouble." He said, looking back down to his book. Timoteo took his hand from Bianca's shoulder, turning, beginning to walk off. Bianca followed behind him, quickly walking beside him once again. They walked outside, Timoteo and Bianca clasping hands once again. Stepping down into the town square once more, Timoteo stopped the first person that passed by, asking them what direction Grove was in. When that individual left, Timoteo asked the next person to come by the same question, just to make sure that the first hadn't made an attempt at misleading the duo. The second individual gave the same directions, Timoteo and Bianca heading off towards the east. There was a small path created between Jadestone and Grove, the grass disappearing in a dirt trail weaving around the trees.
As they held hands and headed off, putting the small town of Jadestone behind them, Bianca raised her free hand, pulling back her hood. Quietly, she said "I'm sorry..." Timoteo stopped, his face a little curious, turning and looking at her. "For what?" He asked. Bianca's head was tilted forwards a little, her chin lowered. She looked to the ground, as if with shame. "For...Getting a little upset, back there." She quietly said. Timoteo gave her hand a little squeeze. "I don't blame you...He was acting like an ass." Bianca said "But..." Timoteo raised his free hand under her chin, gently tilting her head back until her eyes met his. He smiled a little, his eyes full of understanding. "Him getting upset over you saying the town was small made no sense. The town is small, he shouldn't have taken it as an insult. And, really..." He lost his smile, raising his eyebrows a little, saying "When it comes to Octavia, I don't blame you. I really don't. Being polite is great when it works, but if someone like him won't even pay attention to you or gets upset over something stupid..."
He shook his head lightly. She kept looking into his eyes. "I don't blame you." He repeated. He took his hand from under her chin, Bianca coming closer just as he did so, slipping her arms under his in a hug. He embraced her in return, his arms around her shoulders. She nuzzled her face into his neck a little, keeping her eyes shut during the embrace. They held each other for several seconds, her blueberry scent drifting thought Timoteo's senses that entire time. Eventually, he gave her a light, affectionate rub over her back, a little quietly saying "Come on...Let's go. Cover as much ground as we can before we need to make camp." Bianca nodded a little, the two releasing each other, beginning to head down the path once more.

As Timoteo and Bianca travelled for another day or two and headed into the region of Deepwood, Darrah had already reached her father's territory. She had entered his fiefdom early in the morning, people not even walking the streets of the township at that time. The community had grown since Darrah had been a child, no longer a mere village, having expanded into a true town. She headed straight for her father's estate, seeing it before long. Sitting atop a high hill was a huge mansion with five floors to it, formed out of amber-coloured wood and stone of an ash-like hue. In a large square perimeter around the mansion, high walls were formed out of the same ash-coloured stone used in the mansion's construction. The walls were almost as tall as the mansion itself, and considering that the walls had a high-ground advantage against any hostile approacher given their position on part of the hill, they made a very effective defence for the estate.
There were dozens of men on the tops of the walls, armed with crossbows and keeping an eye out for anyone and anything that looked like trouble. The perimeter had only one official entrance, a tall gateway of dark brown wood. The gate was incredibly sturdy, the wood being several meters thick. When Darrah approached, a guard called for her to identify herself. When she said she was one of the lord's daughters, there was nothing but surprise among the guards. When asked for confirmation, Darrah showed them her family crest, emblazoned on the face of her new shield. That was enough for the guards. They opened the gate for her, letting her enter the estate. There, she was recognized by many of the acquaintances she had had as a child, all of them now around her own age. They peppered her with questions about her years at the Guild, as well as questions about the League; apparently, they had already heard of the two powers clashing, and how the Guild had fallen.
It wasn't long before a group of servants from the mansion rushed out to collect Darrah, hurrying her into the building. Darrah was whisked away to a private room on the first floor of the mansion, the maids, the butlers, the cooks, just about every servant expressing happiness with her return. They all promised to keep her return a secret, so Darrah could get her family's reaction first-hand. Eventually, she was left with a single old maid, Darrah knowing the elderly woman from her childhood. The woman prepared Darrah a bath, encouraging her to leave her new armour in a pile on a nearby table. Darrah had forgotten the unspoken social rules of the wealthy high society at her father's estate; one of them was that, unless you were a guard, it was quite odd to try to speak with anyone when you were dressed in armour, and if you were a guard, you very likely had no business speaking with one of the rich folk. Getting a reputation for being odd could put a stain on your entire family.
Darrah begrudgingly complied, removing her armour and clothes. As she began bathing, the old maid offered to answer any questions Darrah had, of which Darrah had several. First, she asked how the maid thought Darrah's father would react to her return. The maid smiled and said that she believed Darrah's father would be overjoyed to have her back. Darrah asked if he had been upset for long over the incident with Jeremy. The maid said that, while he had been upset for a bit, it had been quickly overshadowed by his simple desire to have his youngest daughter back after she had left for the Guild. At this, Darrah went quiet for a minute, smiling a little with happiness. Darrah asked how much her father knew about the fall of the Guild. The maid said that he knew the Guild had been destroyed by the League, and that many Heroes had been slain, but he had never lost hope on Darrah. He had been hoping for some sort of casualty list to be compiled before he wrote Darrah off as slain.
The maid informed Darrah that her father had never supported the League, and that that was very likely purely because of Darrah. Darrah was surprised by this. The maid said that, some time before, representatives of the League had come to the territory, wishing to speak with the lord. They told him frightening and threatening tales of Heroes, and asked him to support them against the Guild. They asked him to give gifts of gold to be used in arming League members with firearms, and also to fund research into more powerful and effective firearms. The lord had promptly refused, and demanded that the League representatives leave his territory. When the representatives "suggested" that making an enemy of the League couldn't possibly be a good idea, the lord had "suggested" that the representatives leave his estate before they test the sharpness of his guillotines. At this, Darrah burst into laughter.
When her laughter died down, she asked about her older brother, though she didn't ask about her mother or older sister. The maid regretfully said that Darrah's brother had set sail over the sea to Albion's west in search of new lands several months before, and likely wouldn't be back for a few months more. Darrah was deeply disappointed at this, but she didn't dwell on it. With her bath finished, the maid gave Darrah momentary privacy so she could dry herself off and get dressed in her underwear once more. Before she could get dressed in her usual clothing, the maid tossed them aside, telling Darrah that the clothes didn't suit one of her stature. The maid went out for a minute and hurried back with a long dress, having managed to pick a dress that would fit Darrah based simply on glancing at Darrah's figure, not once having measured her. Darrah slipped the dress on, looking down at herself afterwards. The dress reached down around her feet, but it was quite roomy, so Darrah was never worried about stepping on the dress and tripping herself.
From the waist downwards, the dress was pure white. Over her torso, however, the dress was a deep shade of purple. Designed over the purple were swirls of light blue, some of the swirls going up over her chest. The dress had purposefully short sleeves to them, the sleeves covering her shoulders and a bit of her upper arms, but not coming close to her elbows. The neckline of the dress showed her collar bones, but didn't show even a hint of any cleavage. The maid provided Darrah with some black slippers, the slippers having slightly elevated heels. The maid insisted that cosmetics be applied to Darrah, and though Darrah firmly wanted to do so herself, the old maid was adamant on helping. Darrah eventually gave in, the maid commenting that Darrah was probably rusty at the complicated art of perfectly applying makeup. A light pink layer of lipstick was spread over her lips. A faint hint of red blush was put on her cheeks, some dark mascara put on her eyelashes.
A bit of golden eyeshadow was applied, making her dark brown eyes seem even deeper, more striking. As a finishing touch, the maid brushed back all of Darrah's hair, clearing her forehead and revealing her ears. The maid provided Darrah with a jewelled hairband, helping to keep her hair neatly cleared back. The hairband was black, contrasting starkly with her blonde hair, diamonds going all along the hairband's length in one long row. In the end, Darrah had been visually transformed. She now looked like someone wealthy, someone important, no longer looking like a rough and dangerous warrior. Looking into the mirror the maid provided, Darrah almost gasped. She nearly didn't recognize her own reflection.

She could remember how everyone always looked after her as a child, of course. She could remember the usual morning routine of waking up, dressing up, getting fancied up. She had never thought much of it as a child however, it had always just been another thing she needed to do. It had been as normal as bathing and pulling on clothes. It had taken going to the Guild to see how different her style of living had been when compared to the norm. Sneaking out to the village as a child hadn't been enough; she had always been told that the villagers were lower than her, less important. She expected them to practically be filthy when compared to her and everyone she knew. At the Guild however, she saw middle-class people, and saw the immense difference between herself and them, between them and poorer folk. She saw how truly normal women dressed; not everyone wore dresses, cosmetics, and jewelled hairbands, like at her father's estate.
Without such things at the Guild, she got used to wearing almost no makeup, wearing regular clothes, roughing around with people her age. She felt a little uneasy looking at herself in the mirror, though oddly comforted at the same time. The Darrah she was looking at wasn't the same, it was an unfamiliar person, and yet, it was Darrah. A changed Darrah, a mature version of the pampered child she had once been, but still Darrah. Part of her liked the change; now, she looked like someone special. She stopped feeling uneasy as she really took in what the new look did for her. As a child, she could never appreciate it, but now that she was conscious of her appearance and how others would perceive her, she liked what the cosmetics did for her eyes, her lips, her cheeks. She liked how the dress was soft and comfortable, how it seemed to mark her as someone whose voice mattered. She wondered with a little smile as to what her friends from the Guild would say if they could see her then, in particular Timoteo, Darrah wondering if he would be shocked speechless.
She wondered if he would be so drawn to Bianca, could he see Darrah in her dress and makeup. She smiled a little more at the thought, the maid breaking Darrah from her thoughts by asking her if she liked the new look. Darrah said that she did, but that it was definitely not what she was used to, anymore. The old maid smiled and said that that would pass, now that Darrah was home. The maid had suggested, through her words, that Darrah would be staying indefinitely now that she had returned, likely trying to see what Darrah's thoughts were on the idea. Darrah gave her no clue, simply not responding to the statement. The maid commented with a positive tone that Darrah looked much better than she had when she had first arrived, now that her skin was freshly cleaned and soft, now that she was out of a suit of armour and back into a dress as people would remember her. The maid told Darrah that her father was currently in the war room, which Darrah knew to be on the mansion's fourth floor.
She asked the maid why he would be there, but the maid simply shrugged, saying that her father might share with her what troubles him, considering she's just returned, and not only that, but as a full-fledged Hero. Darrah left the private room, the maid promising to join in with several servants as they moved Darrah's supplies, armour, and weapons up to her new room. Darrah headed for the war room, climbing the flights of stairs to the mansion's fourth floor...

The rug beneath her feet was a regal purple, the walls, flooring, and ceiling all made of amber-coloured wood. There were a few doors set into the walls on either side of the hallway, made of dark brown wood. Darrah walked over to the door to the war room, hearing voices on the other side that she didn't recognize. Opening the door without knocking, she stepped through the doorway. The floor of the room was covered with a massive purple rug, similar to the one in the hallway behind her. Several tall windows were placed in the wall on the far side of the room. Racks upon racks of weapons were placed in front of, and attached to, the wall on the left side of the room, the weapons ranging from short swords to war hammers. In a long row against the wall to the right, there were numerous bookshelves. Some were filled with simply tomes, yet others were filled with rolled-up maps and general scrolls. Situated in the middle of the room, there was a large square wooden table, covered in maps and papers.
Standing near the table's left side was a man Darrah didn't recognize. He looked to be in his late thirties. He was of fair height, the man wearing a steel breastplate. His trousers were navy blue in colour, the long-sleeved shirt he wore beneath his breasplate being the same colour. His boots were big and black, the thick gloves on his hands being just as dark. He had an obsidian cutlass sheathed at his left hip. A sort of cape was attached to the man's breastplate at the neck. Instead of coming down behind the man, or around him, the cape went down over his shoulder and reached nearly his left wrist, covering about half of the man's torso from view. The cape-like garment was dark purple in colour, Darrah's family crest designed over it in golden threads. The man's dark brown hair was styled downwards in all directons, but considering that the man's hair was fairly short, the style kept his hair rather neat and tidy. He had a short beard to him, his eyes a deep blue colour.
From his dress, Darrah guessed that the man was probably the Captain of the Guard. Across from him, on the right side of the table, stood another man that Darrah didn't recognize. He looked to be in his twenties, tall and gaunt in appearance. He was wearing a dark green sweater, thin white bands of colour going around the sleeves every few inches. His pants were dark brown in colour, his shoes coloured black. His hair was ruffled and messy, but it seemed intentional; the man appeared to be wearing the uncared-for look like it were a style. His eyes were light green, a bit of honey mixing in around the edges of his irises. On the far side of the table, facing Darrah, was the lord of the land, her father. By then, he looked to be in his late fourties. He was tall, but only an inch or two taller than she was. He looked quite strong, looking thick and muscled. He was wearing an expensive-looking white shirt, the shirt buttoned shut, the sleeves loose and thin.
Over the shirt, he wore a dark purple vest, the vest buttoned shut. He wore thick black pants, his boots big and black as well, the trimming around his lower calves being coloured golden. On his left ring finger, he wore an elaborate marriage band, the ring made of pure gold and having a large amethyst set over the face. Designed into the ring's body, leading from one side of the amethyst to the other, were words, but Darrah had never read them. She knew, though, that her mother had a matching ring. The lord had a full, thick head of hair, his hair still coloured dirty blonde, not having gone gray just yet. He had a long beard as well, the beard nearly reaching the man's collar bones. His eyes were brown like her's, but a little bit lighter than her's were. Resting over his head was a crown of gold, a large amethyst attached to it just over the front. Engraved into the front of the crown was the family crest. The crest was formed out of a shield, a bear's face designed over the shield's front.
Vertically coming down behind the shield was a sword, the handle sticking out above the shield, the point just barely coming down below the shield. Resting on top of the shield, around the sword's handle, was a mimic of the crown, itself. On either side of the shield stood a lion, both facing the shield and reaching out to it, as if supporting it. Odd designs, the mantling, were reaching out from behind the crown and the sword's handle. The lord was leaning over towards the table, his hands against it for support as he examined some parchment before him. All three looked up from the table when they heard her enter, their eyes locking on Darrah. The two men Darrah didn't recognize regarded her with similar looks of no recognition, but her father recognized her instantly. "Darrah?..." He said, a little quietly, his voice quite deep. His eyes were surprised. Darrah smiled, saying "I just got back, daddy." The man stood up straight from the table, letting out a little laugh, smiling widely. "Darrah!" He cried, quickly beginning to walk around the table towards her.
He held his arms out for a hug, Darrah walking towards him and embracing him when they met. He happily said "Oh, I'd recognize my little girl anywhere!" Darrah smiled more, her heart swelling with joy. The two released each other. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his beard hairs tickling her slightly. "Look at you! Grown up into such a beautiful young woman!" He said, looking her up and down a few times. Darrah kept smiling, saying "Flatterer." Her father chuckled, saying "We've all missed you. How was the Guild? I hope you received a decent education, though I bet it was nothing like what we could've given you here." Darrah raised her eyebrows, saying "It was fun. Taught me how to fight rather well, I would say." The two men at the table exchanged a secret glance, disbelief in their eyes. Darrah's face went a little cool as she added "I made some friends. They all survived the Guild being destroyed." Her father's face went a little cold, too, as he said "Yes, we heard...We were worried for you, but I knew that if anyone would make it, it was my Darrah." He shook his head a little, saying "We never supported the League. They haven't bothered us since they sent representatives over, a while back." Darrah nodded and smiled a little with amusement. "I heard about that." She said.

"My lord, no offence intended, but we really must form a strategy to deal with this incoming threat." The man dressed in armour said, politely. The lord barely turned his head to the side, his expression unimpressed as he flatly said "My youngest daughter has just returned after an almost decade-long stay at the Heroes' Guild. The issue can wait, my reunion cannot. Be silent!" The man didn't show any expression on his face, but Darrah could only imagine how the man was seething with anger on the inside. Though she was pleased that her father had put the man in his place so that she and her father could properly reunite, she had to wonder what issue was facing them, why they were even in the war room. "No, he has a point." She said, stepping around her father, approaching the table. "What's the problem?" Her father turned and walked over to her side, resting a hand over her shoulder, trying to lead her away from the table.
"It's nothing you need to worry about. Why don't you go say hello to your mother and sister? We can talk properly over lunch. I have a feeling I'll be here for several hours more." Darrah stayed put, glancing over the maps on the table. She saw that a few were of the territory her father owned, along with several others of Albion lands. "I can help. Are you worried about something in particular?" Looking to her father, her face going concerned, she asked "Is a threat approaching?" Her father was about to speak when the tall and thin man, the respect in his tone a little lacking, said "The war room is no place for women, let alone children. The issue at hand will be taken care of." Darrah's brow furrowed as she looked over to the man, her tone annoyed as she said "I'm likely a better fighter than you are, fool. I'm a Hero, not a child, and I'm interested in knowing if there's a reason why you have all these maps out in the war room. There's a threat, I can see it plain as day."
"As fiery as ever." Her father said, smiling a little. His expression went cold as he looked to the thin man, his eyes almost piercing him as the lord said "And, you do realize you're speaking to my daughter, correct? Show some respect! When did I ever put forth a rule stating that women couldn't enter the war room?" The man's face went a little pale as he politely said "Apologies, my lord. I simply assumed that, since you've never let Lady Jasmine or-" Darrah's father cut the man off, saying "The Lady and my first daughter aren't warriors, and they have no head for combat. They have no reason to be in here and worry themselves over trying to scrounge up some answer for any possibly violent situation. Darrah is a Hero, and has a Guild education. She has just as much right to be here as you do." The man nodded once, saying "Of course, my lord." Darrah's father looked back to the tabletop, to the maps and scrolls scattered over it.
Pulling over a map, he pointed to it, showing Darrah a map of Albion. A line had been traced over the map, leading from just a little north of Oakvale to the west of Darkwood, up to the west of Bowerstone, and suddenly to the east, past Bowerstone and in the direction of the lord's territories. He spoke as he ran his finger up along the line. "There was an army of bandits, led by someone named "Twinblade". The man disappeared several years ago, his group then being taken over by a Benedict." Darrah's eyes widened a little. Her father continued. "He led the group up north through the outskirts of Darkwood, and once they were in Greatwood, they set up a temporary base. Caused such a stir with their killing and robbing that all trade lines through Greatwood were cut for a while, and the region was too dangerous for anyone to risk going through. Heroes fought against them, and Benedict took the army north. They avoided Bowerstone, Lady Grey's guards kept them beyond a reasonable distance.
They ransacked any little village and township they came across on their way north, gaining recruits from anyone who surrendered. And then, a few days ago, they all of a sudden veered east. They're heading in our direction as we speak." The armoured man said "We can only assume they mean an assault. Perhaps they heard of the lord's territory and thought it would make a good target. Maybe they mean to make a more permanent base out of the estate." Darrah narrowed her eyes a little. "On my first Guild Quest Card, I dealt with some of Benedict's men. An assassin was sent after me and some friends in retaliation." "I'm not surprised." Her father said. "If they're moving towards us so recently, Benedict might've decided that attacking us was wise, considering that the Guild's gone. Heroes are being hunted...The ones that are alive right now are just concerned with survival." Darrah said, her tone a little soft, regretful.

"That's possible. They might consider themselves a match for us, now that no pure Heroes might support us." The armoured man said. Darrah's father said "At their current pace, we think they'll reach my territory in about two weeks. Taking into consideration the size of the army and that they'll likely be attacking any community they run across on the way, two weeks sounds accurate." "Does anyone have a guess on their numbers?" Darrah asked. The tall and thin man said "Yes, somewhere close to four hundred. Possibly more, if they continue recruiting anyone that surrenders to them." Darrah looked to her father, asking "Do we have numbers to counter that?" He nodded. "All counting, I've got well over five hundred men that are pledged to me; one hundred and fifty estate guards, and around three hundred and fifty knights down in Sundale." Darrah nodded. There was a slight pause in the conversation, and Darrah's father took that as an opportunity to introduce her to the two men.
Placing a hand over her shoulder to get her attention, he held out a hand towards the armoured man, saying "Darrah, this is Wesley, my Captain of the Guard. He took the position four years ago, and has done a remarkable job since." Darrah and Wesley exchanged a polite nod, Darrah saying "I suspected you were. Nice to make your acquaintance." Wesley said "Likewise." Her father held out his hand towards the thin man then, saying "And this is Miller. He's responsible for leading much of the scouting missions we have in place, watching Benedict's army." Darrah didn't nod at the man, curtly saying "I can only hope I earn his respect, and prove myself in his eyes." Miller was barely able to keep his composure, his jaw going a little tight with anger. Giving her a little nod, he said "Pleasure to meet you, indeed." Darrah's father took his hand from her shoulder, saying "From the reports of Miller's men, we know that Benedict's men have been using firearms almost since they were first constructed. That..."
The lord let out a heavy sigh. "...Will be a great challenge." Darrah was silent, not knowing what to say, knowing that her father spoke the truth. After a moment of silence, the lord turned to her and said "Please, say hello to your mother and sister." Darrah turned to her father, pleadingly saying "I can help! Just let me-" Her father raised a hand, causing her to fall silent. He gently said "Yes, I know you want to help. But, please. This matter isn't as important as family. Say hello to them, they'll be hurt if they find out you put off seeing them to give input on this issue." "I doubt that." Darrah said, coldly. Her father raised his eyebrows for a moment before saying "You can come back after you see them. Please, do this for me. I know you left on...Unpleasant terms, with them. But a long time has passed. They're probably lounging on your mother's balcony." Darrah sighed softly, saying "Alright, I'll go...I'll be back soon, though." Her father chuckled softly. "So be it. Just see your mother and sister. They've missed you." "Sure they have." Darrah remarked, under her breath. Still, she did as her father bid, leaving the war room, shutting the door behind herself as she did so.

She made her way up to the fifth floor of the mansion, heading for her mother and father's bedroom. She paused outside the door to the room, staring at the knob near her hand. She couldn't imagine that the three of them would have a pleasant reunion, but she had to wonder if her father was right. It had been a long time. Her father had greeted her with more warmth than Darrah had thought he would, but that was because they had said goodbye on unhappy terms. Darrah lowered her head a little, her eyes closing slightly, her brow deepening a little. "I guess I need to get this over with...Maybe things will be better, now that I'm back. It's been years." She thought, letting out a little sigh through her nose, looking back up to the knob. She reached over, turned it, and began pushing the door inwards. Stepping through the doorway, she glanced around. The room looked different than it had when she had been a child.
The floor was, like the war room, covered entirely in a massive purple rug, shaped to fit the room's flooring perfectly. The canopy bed was over to the left of the room, grand in size. The sheets were dark purple in colour, the pillows light blue. The canopy that came down around the bed was translucent, coloured perfectly white. Near the bed's side, situated by the wall, was a small table, an expensive vase sitting over it. The vase held numerous colourful flowers, likely somewhere around two dozen. To the right, several bookshelves were against the wall, some cabinets and dressers mingled in. On the same wall as the door, pieces of art were hung on the wall, all of the different members of the family. The only one of Darrah was of her as a child; she had been far too impatient to be able to stand still for the hours the artist had needed to create the painting the first time, so subsequent paintings had been all but out of the question.
On the far side of the room, a set of doors were opened, revealing a stone balcony. The doors were mostly glass, the only solid bits to them being the frame and a spiderweb-like design of wood going through the middle, helping keep the glass stable. She walked over to the doorway, hearing a little laugh from the balcony. She recognized it easily enough, it was her older sister. Stepping through and out on to the balcony, she looked over the stone guardrail, glancing at how it gave a rather beautiful view of the landscape just north of the estate. The mountains were off to the east, and a forest could be seen for much of the northern lands along with part of the western territory. She heard a pair of gasps coming from her left side, Darrah looking over slowly. Her mother and sister were both reclining in comfortable wooden chairs, but they quickly rose to their feet at the sight of her. Darrah's mother, Jasmine, was shorter than Darrah, dressed in a red silk dress that was very similar to Darrah's, only with typical sleeves.
Her dress reached down around her feet, not revealing the tiny pair of black slippers she wore. On her left ring finger, she had a ring identical to the lord's. On her right middle finger, she wore a thick golden ring, blackened ivy-like designs done around the outside. She, unlike Darrah's father, looked to be in her early fourties. If age had begun to show in her, it couldn't be seen; her long hair was still pure blonde, and her face showed no wrinkles, though they could’ve easily been hidden under the makeup she wore. Her eyes were dark brown like Darrah's, her lips coated in lipstick red like blood, a bit of purple eyeshadow applied to her in addition to mascara. She was a thin woman, her figure not very curvy, but she had a permeable air of maturity about her. Her hair was cut very neat, very tidy, her bangs a uniform straight line over her forehead. The rest of her hair was styled behind her, going behind her ears to a long mane over her upper back.
Darrah's older sister, Natalie, was almost as tall as Darrah was. She, like the rest of her family, had blonde hair, though her hair was pure blonde like her mother, not having inherited the dirty blonde of her father like Darrah had. Her hair was styled back like her mother, though she wore a jewelled hairband like Darrah to help keep her locks back. Her eyes were light brown, lighter than the rest of her family, almost honey or golden in colour. She was wearing a deep purple dress which was very much like Darrah's own, only her's had sleeves that reached her elbows. Also, unlike her mother and younger sister, Natalie wore a dress that had a lowered neckline, showing a bit of her cleavage. Around her neck, she wore a sparkling golden necklace, a rather large sapphire set into it, hanging down within the valley between her breasts. She wore numerous rings on her fingers, some sparkling with multiple little gemstones, others displaying only one gem, though those were always quite large.
Her dress didn't go down around her feet, showing the black leather slippers she wore. Unlike her mother and sister, Natalie had a fairly sized bosom, large enough that she had wanted to flaunt it ever since she realized that people's eyes were drawn to her chest. Unlike Darrah however, Natalie's backside was nothing to brag about, her younger sister certainly having the curvier rump. She was slim like both her mother and younger sister, her dress revealing that easily. All three stood and remained silent for several seconds. Darrah glanced between her mother and sister, Jasmine and Natalie staring right back at her. Jasmine seemed surprised; Natalie had seemed surprised at first, but had quickly regained her composure. Eventually, Darrah nodded at Jasmine and then Natalie, lightly saying "Mother...Natalie." Jasmine broke into a smile, beginning to rush towards Darrah, holding her arms out. "Darrah! You're back!" Jasmine said, excitedly.
She embraced Darrah tightly, Darrah's eyes going a little wide for a second from surprise, quickly holding her mother back. She was surprised that her mother was greeting her with such happiness when she had almost seemed to pretend Darrah hadn't existed, during the incident involving Jeremy. Darrah shut her eyes and hugged her mother for a few seconds before they released each other. Her mother gave her a kiss on her cheek, quickly saying "How are you? How did the Guild treat you? We heard about it being destroyed! Sit with us, tell us about the years!" Darrah smiled a little, raising an eyebrow slightly, hiding her disappointment at not being able to quickly return to her father while saying "Um...Sure. I wouldn't know where to begin, though." Jasmine smiled more and tittered, saying "Tell us from the beginning, of course! We'll get Alfred to fetch another chair for you. We'll have lunch brought up here, even!" Turning to the side, Jasmine looked to her eldest daughter just as Natalie put on a smile.
"It's good to have you back, Darrah. It's been years." Natalie said, a little bit calmly. Darrah couldn't help but notice how unenthusiastic her sister seemed, and grit her teeth a little. "Same old Natalie." She thought, muttering inside her own head. Jasmine noticed that the two weren't approaching each other for an embrace, and tried waving Natalie over, saying "Well, come on. Welcome your sister, Natalie." Natalie raised her chin slightly, glancing at her mother before looking back to Darrah. "I don't exactly know if she's my sister anymore, mother." Natalie said, curtly. Darrah slowly took in a breath, looking out over the balcony, sighing slowly through her nose. "Yeah. Definitely the same old Natalie." She thought, with growing annoyance.

"What are you talking about?" Jasmine asked, her face going confused. Natalie's brow deepened, but she smiled a little, as if with amusement that Jasmine would question her on her statement. "Have you forgotten? She didn't like our life. She spit in father's face, in the life he provided for us with his wealth." Darrah's head snapped over in Natalie's direction, her eyes instantly furious as she loudly said "That's not true!" Natalie raised her eyebrows, smiling more, saying "And she attacked our knights, and then got shipped off to the Guild. She's been tainted by the simpletons there, and considering how they're all dead now, it shows just what kind of weaklings she had been around." Darrah's hands were clenched tight into fists, her arms shaking slightly, Darrah fighting back an urge to strike her sister across her face to wipe off her mocking smile. "Natalie!" Jasmine loudly said, her eyes wide. "How dare you say such things?! Your sister comes home after years, and that's how you greet her?"
Natalie's eyes went a little wide, but she was still smiling as she said "I told you, I'm not even sure she is my sister, anymore!" Waving a hand at Darrah, she venomously said "Besides, if she started telling us about her time away from the estate, she'd probably start blubbering about that kid, what's-his-name. You know, the brat that got stabbed. Darrah had a thing for that kid." Darrah's face went surprised for a moment before tears welled up in her eyes. Jasmine glanced at Darrah, seeing how she reacted to Natalie's remark. Jasmine's brow furrowed deep. The lady of the estate quickly stepped over to her eldest daughter, whipping a hand over in a blur, slapping Natalie across the cheek with an audible clap. Natalie seemed utterly shocked by the strike. Jasmine spoke in a furious cry as she said "Natalie, your father's going to hear about this. Pray to Avo he doesn't force you out of the estate!" Natalie seemed even more surprised by her mother's words.
Both looked over to Darrah. A few tears had rolled down her cheeks, but her eyes had turned completely wrathful. "You're lucky I don't throw you over this guardrail." Darrah said in a low, dangerous mutter. She turned and stormed off, suppressing a sob. Darrah heard her mother tell Natalie that she was disappointed in her before Darrah had slammed the bedroom door shut, marching off down the hallway...
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Fable : Fall of the Guild