Fable : Fall of the Guild | By : Samson Category: +A through F > Fable Views: 8222 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
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The Guillotines.
Fable : Fall of the Guild
Timoteo and Darrah rushed along the estate grounds until they were nearing the southern side. The battle between Miller’s men and the bandits raged on, with firearms going off surprisingly few times. Considering Miller’s men were surprising the bandits with their flanking attack, the bandits were likely panicking a little and resorting to their melee weapons, not bothering with trying to avoid knights until they could reload and fire again. “There’s a traitor sitting on the northern wall, near the eastern side! Watch her until after this is over, she’s getting the guillotine!” Darrah loudly said to a soldier, so he could hear her over the battle. The guard nodded, rallied a few others, and headed off for the northern wall. Timoteo and Darrah rushed up to the southern side of the perimeter wall, looking over at the carnage. The bandits were in a huge mass near the front gate, all having abandoned trying to bash down the estate’s front gate. Miller’s men were flanking them on either side, fighting with wild energy.
Already, the knights from Sundale were visible, quickly leading up from the south to completely trap the bandits. The guards up on the perimeter wall were still firing down into the bandit horde, picking them off whenever they could. “I want to be down there, fighting with them!” Darrah said, obviously frustrated. Timoteo only glanced at her. With the front gate shored up and the jump from the perimeter wall to the downwards slope below surely suicidal, Darrah was stuck inside the estate. Timoteo said “Now that we’ve got the bandits cornered, maybe the gate could be cleared, let the guards inside the estate rush out and join the fight?” Darrah shook her head, saying “Are you crazy, it’d take hours to clear that rubble from in front of the gate, we couldn’t do it in time! We’re in here until this thing’s over!” Darrah started glancing around, saying “And as far as I know, there’s still a bandit somewhere on the estate grounds. We can’t be having an enemy loose inside, I’m thinking of grabbing some guards and looking around for him.”
Timoteo nodded, starting to look around to see if there were any wounded individuals he could help. Their heads both snapped over when they heard a firearm go off from inside the estate grounds. Darrah’s eyes went wide, her mouth hanging open a little. She saw her father collapse to the ground, a hand over the right side of his chest. Standing near a corner of the mansion, already running off for a staircase up to the perimeter wall, was the gruff-looking bandit that had managed to slip away into the estate grounds. He had apparently gotten his hands on some armour from one of the lord’s guards, evidently to blend in for the sneak attack, but he was already shedding the armour piece by piece. Several of the lord’s knights heard the shot and saw the aftermath like Timoteo and Darrah, beginning to give chase. “No!” Darrah cried out, pulling her blade from her sheath. She actually jumped from the perimeter wall, crashing down to the estate grounds hard enough that she was forced to roll forwards and jump back up to her feet.
Timoteo ran down the nearby staircase in the perimeter wall, sprinting off after Darrah. Her father was still alive, Timoteo seeing him wave Darrah away, urging her to chase the bandit down before worrying about him. She did as he bid, racing off after the bandit. Timoteo stopped by the lord of the estate, seeing that his crown had been flung from his head when he had collapsed to the ground. “Urgh, another traitor...” The lord groaned out, blood leaking from a corner of his mouth, running into his beard. Guards inside the estate began to crowd around the lord and the Hero, watching worriedly. Timoteo held a hand over the man, saying “It was actually a bandit that had snuck in, Darrah told me about him. She was just about to go looking for him.” “Well, she found him, alright.” The lord said, smiling a little. Timoteo cast Heal Life, the older man taking in a deep breath before beginning to rise to his feet. “Thought that may have been the end. You’ve done me a service, Timoteo. I won’t forget it.” The lord said, nodding once with a smile. A few guards gave Timoteo heavy pats on the back, but Timoteo was worried about Darrah. She had raced up on to the perimeter wall, chasing after the would-be assassin. She didn’t know her father was alright, and he was worried that it would drive her into a frenzy.
Darrah had raced past the guards in pursuit, her eyes filled with furious tears as she realized the bandit was likely going to jump from the perimeter wall. Obviously, he was willing to take his chances with the fall rather than face the lord’s guards and enraged daughter. She chased him all the way along the wall until they were near the northwestern corner, Darrah going into a mad dash before the bandit could reach the corner. She knew she couldn’t swing for him with her sword, he could just jump over the edge before she could deliver a fatal blow. Sheathing her blade again as fast as possible, she held an arm out, struggling to get the final few inches close enough to grab the man. Near the corner of the wall, her gauntlet finally found part of the bandit’s shirt, Darrah grabbing hold of him and giving him a mighty heave. His shirt was partially torn as she pulled him clear off his feet, the bandit landing hard on his back on the perimeter wall.
Darrah pulled out her sword, but the bandit scrambled to his feet, pulling free his cleaver. He spun around to face her as she swung downwards, hitting his cleaver to her longsword, parrying the blow. Darrah swung out with her shield, trying to bash against the bandit, but he took a few quick steps backwards, dodging the swing. She charged forwards, swinging horizontally with her sword, the bandit doing a quick hop backwards to avoid the blow. Knowing his heels were near the edge of the wall, he stood his ground, baring his teeth as he and the knight clashed swords. He and Darrah swung for each other a few times, never managing to find each other, Darrah growing more and more frustrated in the face of the bandit’s surprising amount of skill. He eventually hit her sword hard enough to swing her sword to the side, Darrah barely bringing her shield over in time to stop the bandit from trying to swing into her hip. The guards that had originally chased the bandit came running from the eastern side of the perimeter wall, having gone to the other side of the perimeter to trap the bandit.
He saw them coming, his eyes going desperate. He gave a shout and suddenly tackled into Darrah, barely causing her to stumble. Her stomach gave a lurch, though, when he purposely went limp and used his whole body weight to pull her over the side of the perimeter wall with him. They went tumbling through air, the bandit releasing her just before they both slammed into the ground. Darrah landed on her back, the wind torn from her lungs, pain exploding along her body. Because of her armour, she weighed much more than she normally did, and that caused her to hit the ground much harder. The bandit dropped his cleaver, breathlessly crawling over Darrah. “Damn knight, had to ruin my...Plans to get outta here!...” He muttered, between pants. She felt him grab at her helmet as she tried to rise, furiously saying “All I had to do was...Shoot the bastard, and now some Hero thinks...She can mess with me?!”
Darrah felt cool air swirl against her neck and face as the bandit pulled off her helmet, exposing her head. She tried swinging out at him, punching him in the sides as hard as she could. He held her great helm with both hands, raising it up over her face, bringing it down as hard as he could. Darrah’s head swung back as her own helm crashed into her face, biting into her skin and opening a gash just above her left eyebrow. Already, a deep bruise was swelling into life just below her left eye. He hit her again, Darrah stifling a cry as she felt pain burst in her nose, warmth trickling down her lips as something inside her nose broke. She rammed her fist into his hip as hard as she could, knocking him to the side. Darrah scrambled to her feet, glancing around for her sword, blood beginning to run into her left eye. The bandit dropped her helm and found his cleaver a second before she grabbed her longsword. He almost growled as he swung down for her head, Darrah raising her shield over herself to stop the attack.
The guards ran down from the perimeter wall, sprinting over to engage the bandit. The bandit barely dodged a guard’s sword as they swung down wildly for the enemy, Darrah using the opening to kick into the bandit’s stomach as hard as she could. His back slammed against the inside of the perimeter wall, Darrah shooting her sword out to pierce through the bandit. He rushed around her, catching an elbow to the back of the head from her as he did so, stumbling forwards for a few seconds. A guard swung out for the bandit with his sword, cutting hard enough into the bandit’s sword arm that he dropped the cleaver, his injured arm hanging by his side uselessly. More or less blinded in her left eye because of the blood running into it, Darrah saw the bandit take off in a weak run for a nearby staircase in the perimeter wall. Disarmed and wounded, he was even more desperate to escape. Darrah ran after him, a burst of energy coming over her.
She swung her shield into his side from behind, viciously spinning him around. Before he could do anything, she unleashed a Flourish attack. Stepping to the side while doing a quick spin, she used her spin’s momentum and swung her sword hard enough into the bandit’s throat that she felt no resistance at all, cutting through him like he were paper. His head hit the ground before his body did, blood gushing from his neck as his body collapsed. Panting, Darrah smiled, satisfied with her revenge on her father’s would-be killer. “Are you alright? You should get yourself looked at.” One guard said to her, the rest walking over to view the bandit’s corpse. Darrah said nothing, quickly heading off to grab her great helm again.
Timoteo rushed back up to the perimeter wall’s south side, looking out at the battle below. The knights from Sundale had just come up behind the bandits, boxing them in against the perimeter wall. He grinned a little, seeing that victory must’ve been assured. Indeed, the bandits were fighting for their lives and their energy showed it, but they were steadily losing men. Timoteo saw blue light down below, furrowing his brow, looking over. His eyes widened when he saw a bandit suddenly launch a stream of Lightning into one of Sundale’s knights, launching him backwards with the force of the attack. The bandit hit another with Lightning, but didn’t kill him. He used the opening created, however, to plunge his sword through the knight’s chest. Timoteo’s jaw went tight. He cast Physical Shield and leapt from the perimeter wall, much to the surprise of any guard that had been near him. He hit the hill below with enough force that he was launched forwards, doing a frontflip through the air.
His barrier had instantly been lowered when he hit the ground, but he hadn’t been harmed from the fall, either. He cast it again before he slammed into the ground a second time, the barrier vibrating painfully around him. He rolled along the ground a few times before coming to a stop near the battle, Timoteo getting to his feet, pulling out his steel mace. Not far from some of Miller’s men, he ran around the conflict until he got to the southern side of the mass, spotting the bandit that could use the Will. The bandit launched Lightning into another guard, killing one before dispatching the other. Timoteo started to run towards the bandit, but another tried getting in his way. He simply swung his mace into the side of their head, killing them instantly from the force of the blow. He ran past a few guards battling bandits, the bandit with the Will noticing him, then. He launched out a beam of Lightning with a shout, Timoteo dodging it with a roll forwards, the bandit unable to keep up the stream of Will for longer than a second or two.
The bandit hit Timoteo with a weak blast of Force Push, his Physical Shield nullifying it. The bandit tried jumping backwards when Timoteo raised his mace, but simply found himself crashing into another bandit. Timoteo brought his mace down with a sickening crunch, blood spurting from the bandit’s face for a moment before it simply started flowing down his throat. Timoteo pulled his mace from the bandit, seeing that he had crushed the bandit’s face just before the marauder collapsed to the ground. Timoteo felt an axe impact with his right side, bouncing off of his Physical Shield. Running low on mana, his barrier fell, leaving him defenceless aside from his chainmail shirt. Swinging over for the bandit, he missed, but a knight from Sundale swung his sword into the bandit’s chest. The bandit gasped, stumbling backwards, a sword jutting through the bandit’s stomach a second later. One of Miller’s men pulled his sword from the bandit, letting them fall to the ground.
Timoteo reached into his pack, pulling out a mana potion, guzzling it down. He glanced around for bandits to kill, seeing that their numbers were already being whittled down to almost nothing. He saw a bandit kick the feet out from under a guard, Timoteo acting fast. Before the bandit could whip their axe down into the guard’s face for a certainly painful death, Timoteo crashed his mace into the bandit’s stomach, causing the attacker to stumble backwards and suck in air. Bending over slightly from pain, Timoteo swung his mace down into the back of the bandit’s skull, killing them while knocking them down to the ground. He cast Heal Life on a wounded guard nearby, swinging his mace over into a bandit’s arm hard enough to swat his sword from his grip. One of Miller’s men sprinted forwards, grunting as he plunged his steel katana through the bandit’s body. Timoteo charged up a fireball before letting it loose, watching it explode into a bandit nearby, engulfing him in flames while stunning two others nearby.
While one of Miller’s men dispatched one of the stunned bandits, Timoteo hit the other with a stream of Lightning strong enough to launch him off his feet. A bandit ran over with a war cry, swinging down for Timoteo’s shoulder. Timoteo felt the axe bite against him a little, but his chainmail shirt mostly stopped the attack. Before he could react, one of Wesley’s men up on the perimeter wall hit the bandit in the neck with a crossbow bolt, the bandit slowly falling to the ground as blood spilled from the wound. Timoteo found another bandit to kill, and then another, and then yet another, but after the third, bandits became more difficult to find. Often, a guard or knight would kill any bandit he spotted before he could get close enough to try attacking. Eventually, the last handful of bandits dropped their weapons in surrender, but the guards didn’t stop attacking right away. Numerous more bandits were slaughtered before the guards realized that the bandits didn’t have any more fight left in them. A massive cheer rose up among the guards at the realization that the battle had been won.
“...Why did you do it?” Timoteo angrily asked, staring into Amanda’s eyes. She sat in one of the guard barracks of the mansion, surrounded by guards, Darrah and her father by Timoteo’s sides. Once the battle had been won, the guards inside the estate got to work clearing the gate so Miller’s men, Sundale’s knights, and Timoteo could all enter. Darrah had rushed up to Timoteo when she found him, kissing him happily in celebration, despite her injuries. The many cooks and chefs of the mansion were already beginning to create a massive victory feast, but there were two final things that needed to be taken care of before everyone could really rest: the interrogating and eventual executing of any captured enemies, Amanda one of them, as well as the clearing and cremating of any and all corpses, even the bandits. “Why, Amanda?” The lord asked, his brow deep in anger and disappointment. Her face was heavy with shame as she looked down to her knees.
“...One of them came to me, in the night. I was just coming back from Sundale with a delivery for Lady Julia and Lady Penelope, it was some bath salts from Samarkand they had placed an order for a few weeks ago...” Amanda put her elbows to her knees, bringing her hands to her face to cover her eyes, resting her head in her hands. “I thought he was going to rob me, or worse. But, he just asked me if I was a servant at the estate. When I told him I was but that I needed to get back, he...Asked me if I liked being on a leash. A leash held by a richer man, a richer woman, even a spoiled child. I just looked at him. I didn’t know what to say. He told me he could turn the tables for me if I helped him, and he handed me a sack of gold coins...Instructions were inside...” “I see.” Timoteo coolly said. Amanda looked up to him with tears in her eyes, her voice choking up as she said “I’m sorry!...I know that doesn’t make up for what I’ve done, but-!”
“I’m tired of listening to her speak.” Darrah angrily muttered. A din of agreement rose up amongst the guards. “Take her outside.” The lord of the estate ominously said. “No, oh Avo, please, don’t do this!” Amanda hastily said, her eyes going wide. A pair of guards grabbed her arms from behind, pulling her up to her feet, twisting her arms behind her. She whimpered with pain, everyone watching as the two guards began to lead her along. “I want to see it happen.” Timoteo said, his face beginning to twist up with anger. Darrah didn’t ask him if he was sure, she just walked past him, Timoteo following after her. The two walked outside of the mansion, walking out on to the estate grounds just behind the mansion. A huge mass of people, likely just about every individual living inside the mansion aside from a few dozen guards, were standing before a large stage. Standing on the stage were three separate apparatuses, apparently the guillotines.
The guillotines looked like simple constructs, with a block near the floor of the stage, a crescent indent in it for the condemned individual’s neck to rest, temporarily. Sitting before the block was a large wicker basket, blood already leaking from each one. Raised above the block of each guillotine was a large blade, glinting in the noon sun. On the outside of each guillotine, attached to their sides, was a bronze lever, the lever connected to the blade through numerous tiny gears. Timoteo and Darrah made their way through the crowd, the estate servants respectfully getting out of their way, the rich folk making way as well, likely out of appreciation for the simple fact that the two had taken part in the battle for the estate. They stood before the stage just in time to see the final three captured bandits get led to their positions. Guards forced two down to their knees, while the third dropped down willingly. All three bandits had to be forced to lean over, though, so the backs of their necks were under the blades.
The crowd was eerily silent as the executioner walked over from the perimeter wall, having been near the back of the stage, leaning against the stone of the wall behind it so he could be in the shade. The executioner was a big, beefy man, wearing a long, black sleeveless apron, almost like a butcher. He wore a black hood over his head and face to protect his identity, so nobody would know who exactly had been the one to deliver death to the condemned individuals. He grabbed the lever attached to the first guillotine, holding it for a moment before pulling it down in a swift yank. A second later, the guillotine’s blade swept down, biting clear through the bandit’s neck. His head fell into the basket, blood gushing from the stump that had become of his neck, splashing against the blade. A quick cheer rose up from the crowd, lasting no more than a few seconds before it faded. The second bandit was sweating nervously as the executioner walked over to his guillotine, grasping the lever.
“Avo take my soul!” The bandit cried, the executioner pulling the lever a moment later. His head, too, fell into the basket placed before his guillotine. The third bandit had a remarkably calm expression to him, listening to the crowd let out another cheer of approval. The executioner walked over towards the last guillotine, grabbing at the lever of it. “Skorm an’ I’ll be waitin’ for you all!” He shouted out, just before the executioner pulled the lever. The crowd rose up in another cheer when the third bandit met his end. Timoteo didn’t realize Amanda had been brought out until after the cheering began to end. Then, he heard her sobs as she was dragged up onto the stage. The guards already on the stage kicked aside the corpse still kneeling at the middle guillotine, the executioner walking over. He flipped the lever on the guillotine, and the gears started to rotate, drawing the blade back up to the top of the apparatus. “Oh Avo, please, don’t do this!! I’m sorry!! Don’t hurt me, please!!” Amanda said, beginning to frantically scream.
She went limp to try and make the guards drop her, but they forcefully dragged her along the stage, bringing her over to the second guillotine. They practically had to throw her into it, one guard keeping a foot planted against her back to keep her leaning over under the blade. Crying without shame, sobbing loudly, she cried out “Avo, please don’t kill me! I don’t wanna die!!” Timoteo’s face slowly grew darker as he listened to her pleas. The crowd was silent, her cries echoing out around the estate grounds. Her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open a little, her cheeks streaked with moisture, she looked out at the crowd, screaming out “Please have mercy! Exile me!! Don’t kill me!” The executioner mumbled something to Amanda, something nobody picked up, not even those closest to the stage. She barely looked in the executioner’s direction, closing her eyes, her chin quivering rapidly. “I’m scared!...” She choked out. The executioner quietly pulled the lever a moment later.
Amanda didn’t have time to scream again before the blade bit through her neck, her head falling into the basket. Again, a massive cheer rose up among the viewers, even stronger that time at the death of a traitor. Timoteo’s eyes fell from the stage once Amanda was gone. Darrah didn’t notice him turn around and begin to walk away for several seconds, but when she did, she began to follow after him.
Timoteo walked up into his room, feeling anger fester inside him during the whole trip through the mansion. Walking across his room, he pulled open the doors to his balcony just as Darrah walked into his room. “Tim!” She called out, quickly walking across his room. He walked out on to the balcony, leaning over slightly, resting his forearms against the balcony’s railing. Darrah slowed down eventually, walking out on to the balcony beside him. “What’s wrong, Tim? Ever since you found out about Amanda, you’ve been...Distant, almost.” She said, her tone almost surprised. “You’re imagining things.” He quietly replied, his voice a bit cool. Darrah calmly said “No, I’m not. Yes, Amanda was a betraying bitch, and she deserved what she got. But what I don’t get is why you look like you’re taking it so badly.” Timoteo took in a quick breath, sighing deeply, looking over to her with an eyebrow just slightly raised. She had let him cast Heal Life on her after the battle had been over, so she was uninjured once more.
Though she had gotten out of her armour after the battle, she hadn’t bothered with another bath or putting on makeup. The dress she was wearing was light blue, the sleeves quite short, as was normal for her dresses. Timoteo had rested down his pack and his chainmail shirt earlier on, but he was still wearing his apprentice clothing from the Guild. He glanced between her eyes for a moment before looking back out over the landscape. “I talked with her a few times. I liked her, I thought we were friends...But she wanted everyone in here dead, even me. I never suspected a thing. She was a good actress, I’ll give her that.” Standing up enough to plant his hands against the guardrail, he shrugged before he said “I dunno. I guess I never thought someone could betray me like that...Would betray me like that.” “She doesn’t deserve all this thought you’re giving her.” Darrah said, looking out over the landscape like he was. Holding her arms out by her sides a bit, she said “You should be happy! I mean, we’re going to be having a party, soon! Think about it!”
Holding up a hand, she stuck out a finger for each reason she listed, saying “We won the battle, we won it in just a couple of hours, we didn’t lose nearly as many people as we thought we probably would, and we didn’t have to abandon the estate!” Darrah smiled, saying “And best of all, we know exactly where Benedict’s fortress is, now! Capturing those bandits was good for something, I guess. Right?” “I know, I know.” Timoteo simply said. He sighed, looking over to her a little, saying “You’re right. I shouldn’t let Amanda bug me so much. I barely even knew her...And the battle could’ve been a lot worse than it was.” “Exactly. Just look at the lighter side of things.” Darrah said, meeting his eyes with a little smile. “It’s gonna take a little while to prepare for an attack on Benedict’s base. Getting my father’s men to Hook Coast alone will be a challenge. Who knows how well-defended the fortress itself, is. Miller and his men will need to scout it out for a while before we attack.”
Timoteo didn’t say anything, looking out over the estate grounds again. Darrah kept looking at him for a few seconds, her eyes drifting down from his face, going to his side. “...I guess you’ll be going back to Bianca soon, huh?” She asked. He nodded silently. She smiled a little, after a moment. “Alright. It’s been fun having you here, but the fight is over, now. Do me one thing, though.” He looked over at her, raising an eyebrow curiously. She smiled more, looking him in the eyes. “Don’t leave until the party’s over. Wait until tomorrow, okay?” “Alright. I suppose I could at least do that.” He said, half-smiling a little. Darrah grinned a little. Reaching over and grabbing him by the shoulders, she turned him until he was facing her before she stepped close enough to hug him. He rolled his eyes a little at how she had just moved him around for the embrace, but he was smiling, nonetheless. She wrapped her arms around his neck, Timoteo holding her around her waist in return.
She nuzzled her mouth and nose against his shoulder, closing her eyes. They were both silent for a few seconds before Darrah mumbled out “I’ll miss you, you know. Now I’m gonna have to deal with Natalie all by myself.” Timoteo smiled a little. “You’ll manage.” He said. Darrah raised her head a little, resting her chin on his shoulder. “You smell like sweat.” She remarked. “So do you.” Timoteo quickly responded, glancing upwards for a second. Darrah smiled again, slowly beginning to release him. “I guess we should take baths, again. Get ready for the party, and all that.” She said. “Guess so.” He said, slipping his hands from around her. She smiled and jokingly said “At least try and finish your tankard, this time. Everybody’s gonna be drinking ale, you know.” “Oh, you don’t mean you’re gonna get smash-drunk again, do you?” He said, just a bit whiningly. Darrah grinned at his tone. “The standard state of the evening is going to be “drunk,” Tim. I bet you anything everybody’s going to be tipping back their tankards in celebration.”
“Avo.” Timoteo mumbled in dread. “C’mon, don’t be like that. I’m not saying we’re gonna get as bad as I was when I had that contest with Bernard, we’re still gonna remember the party in the morning. But a tankard or two would be expected of you.” “A tankard or two?” He exclaimed. She laughed, grabbing his hands, beginning to pull him along. She pulled him into his room, beginning to head for his bedroom door. “I’m not looking forward to this whole thing, Darrah.” He grumbled. Darrah shot an amused grin his way. “You’ll be fine, I’ll make sure of it. Eat, drink, laugh, and enjoy the music. Everyone will be happy. It’ll be a good time!” “All that beer...” Timoteo said, in distaste. “Suck it up.” Darrah warmly said, releasing one of his hands to pull open his bedroom door. “Let’s get ready for the party, the more I talk about it, the less I can wait for it to come around!” She exclaimed, pulling the reluctant Timoteo outside.
When Timoteo and Darrah walked into the noble dining hall a few hours later, the lord of the mansion stood up from his seat, the eyes of every individual in the room zooming over to the entrance the two had come in through. Timoteo was dressed in expensive clothes once more, his shirt blue with loose, baggy sleeves. His pants were black, the belt around his waist simple brown leather. He had combed his hair and styled it a little, his hair flat and combed down aside from his bangs. His bangs were up a little, forming a sort of cliff over his forehead. Darrah, meanwhile, was dressed in a white dress in her usual style, the torso of the dress deep azure. Timoteo saw that Natalie was at the table, after being away for days on end; she looked over to the duo like her father and mother did, though she looked away within a moment of seeing Timoteo’s eyes on her. Darrah’s father held up a hand towards the two of them, the hall falling silent. “What’s going on?” Timoteo muttered to Darrah through the corner of his mouth.
“Just wait.” She whispered. “Here they are! The Heroes of my territory! The two that rallied us to fight hard enough to assure victory!” “We barely fought any bandits...We barely did anything.” Timoteo muttered. “Maybe you didn’t.” Darrah teasingly whispered back. Timoteo glanced at her with annoyance before she suddenly looped her arm around his, urgently whispering out “Walk over with me!” Timoteo started walking over towards the platform that Darrah’s family ate atop of, the lord continuing to say “My daughter, Darrah, and her comrade from the Guild, Timoteo! We may very well owe them our lives, Avo knows our guards would’ve been in much lower spirits without them. I know I owe Timoteo my own life. He gave quick assistance when I was shot, and considering how our infirmary staff were preoccupied with assisting our guards, I honestly don’t know if any of them would’ve noticed my state in time to help me.”
Timoteo and Darrah walked up on to the platform, approaching their spots, standing by their chairs. “Today, we feast in their honour! We feast to celebrate our victory over those who would take our home, our families, our very lives! Enjoy the food our cooks toiled hours to make! Forget the troubles battle brings!” The rich folk in the room stood up from their seats, all beginning to clap loudly, smiling faces beaming over to the two as they took their seats. “Did you know about this?” Timoteo quietly asked her as she slipped her arm away from his. She just chuckled a little in response, giving him all the answer he needed. Bards began to walk into the room, playing their lutes, filling the room with soft music. Darrah’s father took his seat again, looking over to Timoteo, saying “I owe you a personal debt, Timoteo. I’ve got a few things I’d like to give you some time after dinner, a few things to show my appreciation for the help you gave us. You deserve an appropriate reward, after all.”
Timoteo nodded once, saying “Thank you, my lord.” Darrah’s father smiled a bit, his face crinkling up with contentment. “Please, after all this, I think you can call me Alexander.” Darrah smiled at this, looking at Timoteo pleasantly. Timoteo looked to his left just as someone began pouring ale into his tankard, but all he saw were twin pillows of flesh, barely contained by a low-cut dress. “Whoa.” He thought, glancing upwards. A serving girl was pouring him his drink, wearing an inexpensive dress of dark green fabric, the plunging neckline of the dress leaving little to the imagination. Her hair blonde and tied in long pigtails that flowed behind her, she smiled at how he reacted, how surprised he had been to have her endowments near his face. “Sorry if I surprised you, m’lord.” She said, pulling up her big silver jug, leaving him with a full tankard of ale. Timoteo chuckled a little, raising his eyebrows with a bit of amusement as he started putting together his plate from the food before him, stretching from one end of the table to the other.
Darrah looked a little annoyed with the serving girl, eyeing her unhappily, letting her fill Darrah’s tankard before asking her to keep an eye on the dozens of other people in the room instead of her family. The serving girl seemed a little perplexed, but didn’t dare to go against what one of Alexander’s family asked. Leaving their table alone, another server would eventually come along to refill their tankards, and Darrah was pleased to see it was a male instead of another curvy female. Timoteo ate heartily, but when Darrah pushed him to drink his ale, he resisted. Quite thirsty after eating cooked meat and potatoes, however, a drink was very tempting, even if it was alcoholic. Darrah kept playfully pressing him, and eventually he just gave in. He took a few swigs from his tankard, repulsed with the taste, but glad simply to have had something to wash down his food with. Before he knew it, he had drained his tankard dry over the course of his meal, the table’s server quickly refilling his tankard.
Alexander began recalling a tale to Timoteo and Darrah of a skirmish with bandits that had happened in his territory, a few years before. Bandits had tried setting up a camp, robbing and killing traders and travellers to the point where Alexander had been forced to send a group of guards over to clear them out. The bandits had been surprisingly resilient though, and only when met with overwhelming force did they abandon their camp. They made the mistake of travelling deeper into Alexander’s territory however, likely because they didn’t even realize he held control of all that land. Timoteo and Darrah both started laughing when Alexander recalled how the bandits had marched into Sundale, expecting to have everyone cower with fear at the sight of them, but instead found a town full of knights ready to slaughter the bandits. It took Timoteo a while, but he noticed that Natalie was being very quiet throughout the meal. She rarely lost the look of boredom she wore like a mask, and didn’t eat very much, either.
Jasmine would speak with her husband at times, but she mostly seemed content to let him speak with Timoteo and Darrah. As Timoteo ate more, he drank more, and he eventually found himself slipping into a general state of pleased satisfaction, realizing that he was starting to get a bit drunk. “I think I’m done for the night. I’m pretty full.” He said, looking over to Darrah. She had already finished her third tankard of ale, like him. She smiled, saying “Mm, me too. Great food, but I’m getting really sleepy. Hey, daddy?” She looked past Timoteo, Alexander looking over, taking a big gulp from his own tankard after putting down a thick hunk of cooked meat. “Yes?” He said. Timoteo couldn’t help but notice how collected Alexander was, even though he had finished off six tankards of ale, so far. It didn’t seem like it had affected him at all. Darrah said “Timoteo and I are getting tired. We’re gonna call it a night. That stuff you wanted to give Timoteo, could you do all that tomorrow?” Alexander gave a nod, saying “Sure, get some sleep, if you need it” before he took another big bite from his hunk of meat. Darrah smiled, stood up from the table, and when Timoteo got up to his feet, she slipped an arm around his again. “Let’s go...” She murmured, the two walking off together.
“...So he pulled me over the damn wall, and I felt like I was paralyzed when I hit the ground. Couldn’t move for a few seconds. When I started getting up, he pulled my helm off!” “Damn.” Timoteo muttered, the two walking into his room. “Idiot could’ve killed me if he used his blade, but he just hit me with my helm. Bashed my face up. The other guards came over then, though. He was in trouble! He tried running, but I got him.” “What’d you do?” Timoteo sleepily asked. Darrah chuckled, beginning to walk over to his bed. “I took off his head. Less satisfying than you’d think, but still satisfying. That’s what he gets for trying to kill my father.” Timoteo started to grin a little, walking over to his bed, as well. “Lemme sleep in your bed, tonight. I’m too tired to go back to my room anyway, and...What’re you grinning about?” She put her hands to her hips, wobbling a little. Timoteo pulled his shirt off, saying “I was just thinking...I notice you always call your dad “father” when you’re talking to someone, but when you talk to Alexander himself, you call him “daddy”. It’s kind of cute.”
Darrah’s face went a bit red. “Cute? How so?” She asked, her tone a little embarrassed. She started to undo little fastenings in her dress, loosening it enough for her to slip it off of her body. Timoteo grinned more, slipping his socks and shoes off before beginning to undo his pants. “It’s cute because you’re like the baby of the family. You’re daddy’s little girl, heh heh.” Her face went a deeper shade of red, but she was more annoyed now than embarrassed. She slipped her dress off, standing in just her underwear and her slippers with elevated heels. She marched over to him just as he had gotten his pants off, surprising him when she suddenly pushed him down to his bed. “Call me a baby just one more time!” She loudly warned, looking down to him. Warm and content from the alcohol, he didn’t even feel somewhat annoyed by her. He smiled, calmly saying “Calling someone a baby and calling them the baby of the family are two very different things, Darrah.”
Her brow went deep, Darrah looking at him severely. She got over him on the bed, straddling him, pinning him to his bed. She grabbed his shoulders tight, looking down into his eyes, her long dirty blonde hair hanging down by the side of her head like a soft curtain. “Really? Because it sounds to me like you called me a baby and tried to get away with it.” “I didn’t. I did call you a daddy’s girl, though.” He said, smiling more. Darrah tilted her head left and right as she sarcastically said “Hoh hoh hoh, you’re so funny, Tim. You’re the funniest Hero I’ve ever known. Even funnier than Gibbons.” “I try.” He remarked, grinning a little. “At least I can drink my ale without making a face after every gulp.” Darrah teased, trying to turn the tables on him. Timoteo rolled his eyes, saying “Whoever invented alcohol was a brave man. You’d think that after one sip, he’d spit it out and burn the recipe.” Darrah sat up a little, no longer leaning over him.
Timoteo faintly noticed that Darrah was sitting right over his underwear, nestling her groin against his. Darrah smiled widely, pleased that she had an opening to tease him more. “He drank some, got drunk, and thought “Hey, let’s keep this going for a while and see what happens!” And anyone that couldn’t drink their tankards were probably beat up for being such wimps...Tim.” Timoteo eyed her with a weak flare of annoyance. “Did I detect a snide remark in there?” He asked. Darrah grinned, her face calming down, no longer red with blush or anger. “I don’t know, maybe. Maybe you’re just crazy.” She said, rather innocently. Timoteo made a “pfft” sound, glancing off to the side, smiling a little. She reached behind herself, slipping her footwear off, letting her slippers fall to the floor by his clothes. Then, she leaned over him again, closing her eyes as she touched her lips to his. She gave him only one kiss before she started moving, apparently unperturbed at how he didn’t kiss her back.
He looked over to her, mumbling a little as he said “You’ve been kissing me a lot, since I came here...” She chuckled, slipping under the sheets of his bed, saying “Did I kiss you a lot when I came here drunk?” “Actually, yeah...” He said, sitting up, beginning to move as well. “Well, I’m not that drunk, tonight. I’m just tipsy. I’ll remember all this tomorrow morning.” She calmly stated. “...So, I’d watch what I say, if I were you.” She added, grinning a little. He glanced upwards, beginning to feel so tired that he was starting to black out; moments would pass by where things would seem to grow quieter, his vision would lose focus, and he’d eventually snap back to reality. “I’m dying for sleep...” He mumbled, getting under the sheets of his bed beside her. She rolled over on to her side, facing away from him.
“Then hold me, let’s go to bed...” She softly said, obviously becoming as sleepy as he was. He came close behind her, reaching an arm over her hip, smoothing his hand along her lean stomach. They started spooning, fitting their legs close together, her bum pressing into his loins. He kept his face near the back of her head, able to smell the soft scent of her hair, gentle and sweet like honey. He felt her bring a hand over his, holding it for a second before raising it. She brought his hand to her chest, between her breasts, pressing it against her bra and holding it close to her heart, as if for comfort. He was awake for barely a moment more before he fell into a deep, relaxing sleep...
When the two awoke in the morning, they stayed in bed for a while, spooning still as they spoke of their plans. Darrah wanted to stay at her father’s estate, for several reasons. She admitted to having missed the estate, simply because it was her childhood home. While the sense of nostalgia was very bittersweet, she wanted to stay, all the same. She also said that it probably wouldn’t take very long for the League to hear about how Benedict’s bandits had failed, if the League had, indeed, supplied the bandits with firearms to get revenge by proxy. Somehow, the bandits knew what Darrah had looked like, one or two pointing her out as a Hero. The League could’ve been responsible for that somehow, some way. If so, learning that the estate hadn’t fallen may make hunting League members keep an eye out for her specifically. The third reason she had was that the overall conflict with Benedict wasn’t over. He would eventually find out about his army’s complete and utter loss, and it didn’t seem likely to Darrah that a man like that would just give up.
She and her father had to secure enough ships to bring her father’s men to Hook Coast, and from there, they could plan their attack on Benedict’s fortress. Until Benedict was dead and buried in the ground, Darrah didn’t want to leave her father’s side. Timoteo understood her decision. He told her about how he was going to stay with Bianca, help her find Octavia. Then, the two were very likely going to go up to Snowspire and join Calvin there. Darrah thought it foolish for anyone to willingly freeze themselves up in Snowspire, but she didn’t comment on Bianca. Feeling a hand along her stomach, feeling her mildly toned abs, he heard her softly ask if he’d stay for breakfast before leaving. He said that’d be fine, he’d probably need some energy before making the trek through Darkwood. Darrah seemed pleased, the two slowly beginning to get up from bed, then. They took baths and got dressed, but instead of dressing in fancy clothes, Timoteo wore his apprentice clothing from the Guild, freshly washed and soft to the touch.
After eating breakfast, Alexander came over and asked Timoteo to follow him up to the fifth floor. He led the Hero to a room Timoteo had never visited before, Alexander using three golden keys to unlocked the door. Inside, there were a few dozen large chests, all sitting in the center of the room. All along the walls, weapons and armour pieces were hung, all looking extremely valuable. Some were so adorned with jewels and precious metals that Timoteo wondered if they could really even be used for combat, or if they were purely decorative in nature. Large silver bowls sat in piles around the room, the bowls filled with gemstones and jewels, most cut flawlessly by a master artisan. Alexander warmly invited Timoteo to fill his pack with gold and jewels, and to even take a weapon or piece of armour, if he so wished. Timoteo was stunned into silence. Alexander chuckled at his shock. It took some convincing from Alexander for Timoteo to really believe that the reward was genuine.
He felt that filling his pack with gold was greedy, but he didn’t want to offend Alexander by seeming to deny his generous reward. Luckily, his pack still held numerous potions and similar possessions, so he could create the illusion of filling his pack while only really taking a modest amount of coins. He grabbed a handful of jewels and gems, having a few for every colour of the rainbow in his pack by the time he was satisfied. Then, one gem in particular caught his eye, one which seemed unique among the heaps of gems in the treasury. It was black as night and about the length of his hand, from the tip of his middle finger to his wrist. About an inch thick, it was cut with six sides, either end of the gem cut to a sharp point. It gleamed in the light cast through the windows of the room, almost as if to invite him closer. He smiled, knowing it would make a perfect gift for a special someone. He put a few jewels back to make up for taking the black gem, and then Alexander pointed his eyes over to a mace hanging on a nearby rack attached to the wall.
The handle seemed made of some kind of gold, sections removed to show the black wood at the handle’s core. The head of the weapon had about a dozen vertical blades circling it, the blades made of a strangely pale steel, the metal glittering a bit in the light. It reminded him of a mace from the times of the Old Kingdom, a Master Mace. Timoteo politely refused, he said he couldn’t possibly accept such a thing after accepting so much gold and jewels. “After all,” he said, “I didn’t really help out all that much with the fighting. Wesley and Miller did most of that.” Alexander didn’t seem very convinced, but he respected Timoteo’s lack of greed.
When it came time to say goodbye, Alexander shook Timoteo’s hand, offering him shelter at the mansion should he ever need it. Jasmine said it had been a pleasure to have Timoteo over, and that she, like her husband and everyone else at the estate, owed him a debt for the role he played in the battle, primarily how much he had bolstered the morale of the soldiers. Natalie was quite subdued in her goodbye, simply saying she was grateful he had healed her father after he had been shot. Darrah hugged him tight, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Timoteo holding her around her waist. They exchanged no words; everything worthwhile they had wanted to say had already been said, earlier on. When they released each other, Timoteo pulled out his Seal and teleported away, heading for Greatwood. The first thing he noticed when he materialized over the Cullis Gate was a deeply unpleasant smell. Looking over, he saw a small pile of human remains, charred and torn apart.
Obviously, it was the work of Bianca, who had left the four massacred bodies there likely as a warning to any other League members or supporters. Wanting to surprise her at Grizelda’s cottage, he didn’t contact her through his Seal, setting off into Darkwood alone. It only took him a few minutes to begin wondering whether or not his idea was such a good one, and when the seven balverines attacked, it struck him as fairly obvious that it really hadn’t been. Without worrying about injuring an ally, though, he had a chance to let loose. Twice he cast Enflame, blasting the air around himself with scorching fire, slaying all the balverines. Rushing through Darkwood, battling hobbes periodically, he eventually found a familiar route, a place he remembered Bianca passing through a few times in order to get to Grizelda’s cottage. Striking off the path, he headed through the trees until he unwittingly roused a troll, Timoteo just barely managing to flee before the earthen behemoth tried swatting him with a length of rotted tree. Finally, he found the clearing with Grizelda’s cottage, exhausted as he made his way up to it.
Walking up to the cottage’s front door, he figured simply walking in would be impolite, so he raised a hand and gave the door a knock. He waited a few seconds before the door opened. Bianca had opened the door, smiling happily when she saw him. He saw she was wearing a different shirt than she usually did; it was lace and transparent like her other one, but instead of rose designs along the shirt, there was simply a big bird over her chest, another on her back. The bird’s head came up between her breasts, with the bird’s wings stretched up high, covering the fronts of her breasts until the tips of the wings reached her collar bones. The crow design didn’t cover the sides of her breasts that much, covering just enough of the fronts of her breasts to shy away what was important, so like her rose shirt, a fair bit of cleavage was visible. Like her other shirt, a blank patch was designed over her navel, showing it off in the middle of the crow design.
Her eyes were warm and affectionate as she embraced him, slipping her arms up and around his neck. “Tim, I was worried...How did the battle go?” She asked as he held her back, nuzzling her face into the side of his neck. He smiled, feeling her immense bosom press into his chest through her shirt. “We won...Benedict’s bandits were completely wiped out. A few were taken prisoner, and they gave up the location of Benedict’s fortress by Hook Coast. Turns out that assassin wasn’t lying, after all. The bandits were executed, anyway...” “Mm.” Bianca mumbled, taking a few steps backwards, guiding him into the cottage. He reached behind himself and barely managed to shut the cottage door, feeling Bianca kiss him on the neck. “Where’s Grizelda?” He asked. “She’s out...She’s been out for two days, but at least I know what she’s doing, this time...She’s watching the Chasm of Blood for a bit, she said she could be gone for a few days. We have the cottage to ourselves...”
“Is that so?...” Timoteo mumbled, beginning to smile a bit. “Why did you come to the cottage alone?...My birds winged to me, they told me you were walking through Darkwood...If you had let me know, I could’ve met you at the Cullis Gate...” She murmured, pressing another delicate kiss to his neck, sending fluttering jolts along his nerves. “I wanted to surprise you...” He lightly said, gently rubbing along the small of her back. “This is a nice surprise...I’m glad you’re back...” She cooed, bringing her head back, gazing into his eyes with her plump lips curved into a little smile, her dark sparkling lipstick drawing in his eyes for a moment. A second later, they were kissing, lovingly squeezing each other in their embrace. Timoteo’s hands drifted downwards, running over and under her skirt, Timoteo giving her ample cheeks a soft squeeze. He rapidly began to go stiff down below, their breathing both beginning to deepen with arousal.
She reached out with her tongue, running the tip of her slimy mouth muscle against his lips for a moment before retracting, successfully tempting him into chasing after her with his own tongue. He felt a quiver run up her spine as he gave her soft cheeks a few stronger squeezes, feeling his fingers sink into her flesh. He rubbed tongues with her, feeling her lick back at him with just as much eagerness. She brought a hand to the back of his head, running her fingers through some of his hair. After a few more seconds of kissing, he slipped his tongue out of her mouth, mumbling out “Avo, I missed you...C’mon, let’s go to your room...” Bianca smiled widely. Slowly slipping their hands from each other, she softly said “Okay...I think I might have a surprise for you...There’s something I want to try with you...” “Oh?” Timoteo mumbled, raising an eyebrow, smiling curiously. She took him by the hand, beginning to walk over towards her bedroom, giving him a bit of an excited look from over her shoulder, blush swelling in her cheeks. He smiled a little more, blushing himself, wondering what she had planned...
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