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Fable : Fall of the Guild	By : Samson Category: +A through F > Fable Views: 8222 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Assassin Duo.
Fable : Fall of the Guild

Part VIII - "Witch-hunt"

By: Jesse Racine AKA Samson

Original Date Written: July 20, 2012

Timoteo let out a little sigh, having just drained his glass of apple cider. Feeling fairly full, he rested back in Bianca’s chair with his eyes closed, Bianca seated in his lap, her right side turned towards him. She took a sip from her glass, pleased with how content he appeared to be. Grizelda finished off her bowl of stew, saying “Have you collected your things, Bianca?” Bianca looked over, saying “Most of what I want to take with me, yes. I’ll still need another twenty minutes, perhaps.” Grizelda smiled a little, gazing over at her. “Well...I have a gift for you both before you go. I want to entrust something to you, as well...I’m sure you’ll get better use from it than I will.” Grizelda stood up, bringing her glass with her as she began to walk over towards the nearby hallway. “Remember when I gave you those Ages of Will and Will Master’s Elixers? Well, last night, I finally brewed up two Elixers. Distilling an Ages of Will potion appears to be a considerably more difficult hurdle, but no matter. Another Elixer for both of you will do you good.”
Bianca looked at Timoteo with an excited gleam in her eyes. He smiled a little, opening his eyes a little, watching Grizelda walk away. Bianca leaned closer to him, kissing his cheek. She reached an arm up to his shoulder, then went higher, feeling her fingers through some of his hair. She started to lightly scratch at his head, sending a very pleasant and relaxing wave through him. His eyelids almost fluttered at the unusual, but very welcome, attention. She smiled, gently asking “Is that nice?...” “Mm, it is, for some reason...” Timoteo mumbled out, closing his eyes again. Bianca smiled more, scratching at his head until Grizelda walked back into the room. Holding two bottles at the neck in her right hand, the Will Master’s Elixers cast a blue glow along her body, the Will inside the liquid radiating mana. She had brewed the Elixers in nondescript glass bottles, the bottoms of each round and smooth, leading up to a thin neck with the mouths blocked with black cork.
In her other hand, she held a small book bound in dark leather, the book almost looking like a tiny journal or diary of some kind. Grizelda placed the bottles on the table, smiling warmly while saying “There you go, my first two. Hopefully not my last. Go ahead, have them.” She took her seat as Bianca leaned over, taking the two Elixers, bringing them over into her lap. “Here, Tim...” She said, handing him one. “You first.” Timoteo urged, smiling a bit. Bianca smiled faintly, but didn’t say anything. Grizelda stood up again, saying “Oh, I should get you two fresh glasses of cider. Remember the bad taste?” “Avo, how could I forget?” Timoteo said, under his breath. Bianca smiled widely with amusement. “I might as well just get this over with...” Bianca quietly said, eyeing her Elixer warily. She popped the cork out of the top, rolling her wrist around for a few seconds, swirling around the liquid. She let out a hesitant little sigh, willing herself onwards.
She raised the bottle up, her eyes screwing up tight as she choked down the disgusting-tasting fluid. Timoteo rubbed at her thighs as she gulped it all down, draining the bottle after several seconds of drinking. When she was done, she almost threw the bottle away, bringing it down to her lap heavily. She opened her eyes wide, her jaw hanging low. “Oh, Skorm...I think Grizelda’s version tastes even more bitter. I...Ugh...” Bianca closed her eyes, falling towards him, leaning heavily against him. He smiled a bit, rubbing at her tummy, saying “I have to wonder if it’s better to drink these things with a full stomach, or without one. I guess I’ll find out for myself.” Bianca mumbled incoherently. He smiled more. He waited for a few seconds before Bianca got her bearings again, beginning to sit up once more. “Better with a full stomach, I think...” She groaned. He grinned slightly, glancing over as Grizelda walked back into the den. Placing their refilled glasses of cider back on the table, Bianca eagerly grabbed her’s, almost splashing cider over the rim of the glass.
She chugged her cider down, putting her glass back down while panting out “Grizelda, are you sure you made that Elixer properly? I’m almost certain it tasted even worse than the other one.” Grizelda smiled a little, and with a bit of indignation, said “Well, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize getting a permanent expansion to your magical capabilities was so horrible! I could’ve drank them myself, or put a pound of sugar in them and completely nullified the potency of most of the reagents, resulting in a useless concoction!” “Never mind.” Bianca mumbled, raising a hand to her face, closing her eyes and touching her eyelids. Grizelda smiled a little, saying “You know what would ease that woozy feeling?” “Please don’t say it.” Bianca muttered. Grizelda grinned a little. “All I’m saying is, clothes can be incredibly constricting.” Bianca sighed heavily. “Am I ever going to be able to live that down?” “One day. Not today.” Grizelda simply said, grinning more.
Timoteo pulled the cork from his Elixer, hesitantly raising it to his lips. Bianca lowered her hand from her face and looked over at him, hearing him take his first gulp. Timoteo gagged after the first one. Bianca was right, Grizelda’s Elixer definitely tasted much worse than the first ones the two had drank together. This Elixer tasted like a fat slug had rolled out on his tongue, died, decayed into sludge, and rolled down his throat, all in the span of a single second. He quickly tried gulping down another mouthful, and almost ended up shooting it out through his nose. Bianca rested a hand against his chest, knowing he was having trouble drinking the Elixer. He ended up taking a break after the second gulp, simply resting the bottle against his lips, using his tongue to plug the mouth. Grizelda watched, smiling, saying “As long as he doesn’t spit any up, he’s fine. Though, that woozy head rush is going to hit soon, Tim. If you’re going to take a break, you might as well put the bottle down, you’re probably going to drop it when you get weak.”
Timoteo’s brow went deep in determination. A chug of Elixer went down his throat, then another, bubbles floating up inside the bottle. He forced the ichor down and pulled the bottle from his lips. Already, pinpoints of his vision were turning black, his body feeling weak, disappearing from around him. He ended up dropping the bottle to the floor, the glass loudly clinking against the cobblestone floor, rolling off to the side. He shut his eyes, taking a few moments to recover. “There, he got it down. Looked like a struggle.” He heard Grizelda comment. “You should try your own creation, Grizelda. You have no clue how bad that tasted.” Bianca flatly said, rubbing comfortingly at Timoteo’s chest. “I never doubted that it would taste poorly. It was my first two attempts, after all. Sadly, I won’t have time to refine my process.” Timoteo began to feel alert again, opening his eyes a little, seeing his vision had returned. Bianca was looking at Grizelda, saying “What do you mean?”
Grizelda smiled and held up the little black book she had brought with the Will Master’s Elixers. “I mean, I want you to have the Old Kingdom translations of the recipes and instructions. Much of the work is purely alchemical, but there are some more complicated steps involved, specifically for the Ages of the Will potions.” Bianca didn’t respond for a moment before she slowly shook her head. “Grizelda, I can’t take that...It’s too valuable. Too useful. It’s your’s.” Grizelda gave Bianca a sly smile, saying “I may be getting long in the tooth, my dear, but I’m not getting short on memory. I remember the steps and ingredients for making the potions. I want you to have it, because you’ll get better use out of it than I will. It could be a nice little project for you while the two of you are staying out of sight. Brew up enough of those, and you won’t have any reason to worry if the Witchspotters find you.” Bianca quietly looked at the book for a few seconds before mumbling out “...I’d certainly enjoy the challenge of trying to create either of them...”
Grizelda nodded slowly, saying “I knew you would. Here. The first few pages are the untranslated Old Kingdom text. The pages after that are the translated instructions, and a page or two after that are simply my personal notes on tweaks I made to the recipes, things I tried that didn’t work, and such.” Grizelda rested the journal down on the table, sliding it over towards her until it was by Bianca’s emptied bottle. “I’ll be careful with it...I want to return it to you, some day.” Bianca gently said. Grizelda smiled and said “If you insist.” Bianca stood up from Timoteo’s lap, stretching for a moment before saying “I suppose I should finish collecting my things...” Timoteo stood up as well, saying “You wanted to grab some more books and clothes, right?” Bianca nodded gently, mumbling out “Mhm.” They began to walk off towards her room, Grizelda watching them with a content look on her face.
“...Do you believe in fate, beautiful?” She smiled a little, wary of his pick-up line, eyeing him carefully. “I believe in destiny. Not quite the same thing.” She said, walking past him, heading down a dirt road in Knothole Glade. Gibbons smiled, walked after her, saying “Fate and destiny are the same, aren’t they?” The girl gave him a look from over her shoulder, smiling still. She was excited by the attention, how he persisted in his advances, it showed he truly wanted her. Still, she wanted to keep playing the game, making him chase after her. “They’re similar. Fate is something you may or may not fulfill. If you don’t, there tends to be consequences...” Gibbons’ eyes fell to her hips as she walked, smiling more, saying “Go on.” She turned around, surprising him, jolting his eyes back up to her’s. “Destiny is something you’ll fulfill no matter what, in one way or another. Usually, it’s because some higher power is guiding you.” She said, giving him a dishonestly severe look.
He could tell she was faking, leaning closer to her, smiling as he confidently said “I think it’s your destiny to have dinner with me, tonight.” “Oh, do you, now?” She asked, giving him a light shove on his shoulder, making him stand up straight again. He grinned. “We can show each other a good time. A bit of wine, a bit of romance...” “Quit trying to butter me up.” She said, secretly smiling, turning from him and starting to walk away again. He walked around her with a strong half-smile on his face, getting in front of her. She tried walking around him, Gibbons holding out his arm. Rather than trying to stop her, however, he was simply holding out a small piece of folded-up paper, offering it to her. She looked at his hand, blinking, saying “What’s this?” He smiled, tilting his head to the side a little. “My address, and the time I’d like to see you. No pressure. Come, or don’t. But if you do, I’m sure you’ll have fun. We’ll make a fond memory, together.”
The girl narrowed one eye at him, glancing between his note and his eyes. Slowly, she raised a hand, saying “Well...I’ll think about it. But just so you know, I don’t do anything crazy on a first date.” Gibbons grinned. “I wouldn’t have it any other way!” He smoothly said. “Of course you wouldn’t.” She said, with playful disbelief. She took the note, and he lowered his arm, letting her walk past him. “I don’t even know your name, though.” She said after a few steps, turning around to look at him. He was gone. Her eyes went a little wide, the young woman glancing around. He had disappeared from the street without a trace, vanishing into thin air. “...Weird.” She mumbled out, beginning to walk off again, unfolding his note and reading it over. Gibbons had slipped away between two nearby homes, smiling, pleased that he might have plans that night other than his usual routine. He headed off, his step confident, a bit of a swagger to his movements as he headed for the front gate of Knothole Glade.
He looked left and right, noticing a few League members speaking with a shop owner, nearby. It didn’t appear to be a dispute, the League members didn’t seem suspicious of the shop owner, but Gibbons still watched for several seconds, trying to commit the League members’ faces to memory for future reference. “Alright, time to check out the Arena. League’s kept the path to the Arena pretty clear of balverines and such, from what I’ve heard. Won’t need any of my stuff.” He quietly walked through the rest of Knothole Glade, minding his own business, heading out beyond the safety of the community’s walls and out into the trees of Witchwood. As he headed towards the Arena, he came up with his possible plan of action, how he would approach things should the Arena prove to be the League’s headquarters. Something told him that the League wouldn’t just open their doors to any random stranger, but he told himself that that was just him being paranoid.
“The League can’t be too choosey about who it wants supporting it. If it turns people away, it might turn people against it. Besides, hunting down Heroes as fast as possible is going to need as many people as possible. So, if I just walk up and say I’m looking to join, it could be as simple as doing a test to prove myself, or something...No biggie. I do some jobs, maybe sabotage a few. Cover things up. Make myself look trustworthy without actually helping. When I have access to the higher-ups, I get rid of them, throw everyone below them into chaos. If new leadership makes itself apparent, I get rid of them, too.” Gibbons raised a hand to his face, rubbing at his chin for a few seconds. “If Tim wants to help out, though, it could be a little complicated. I suppose I could introduce him, myself, and vouch for him, asking he be let in. But Tim hasn’t had as much practice being stealthy as I have, and he’s a mage anyway, he’s not naturally suited to it. If I do get help from him, it’ll have to be outside stuff, for his own protection. Maybe he could help me set up ambushes for League teams, or something.”
Gibbons glanced down a path to his left, seeing a group of people heading away from him. He didn’t pay much attention to them, and was about to look away and continue down his path when he realized that a few of the people he saw were wearing black coats. He paused, squinting a little, looking down the path a bit more. There were a few League members walking with what looked like several ordinary civilians. They were using a path Gibbons knew led to the Arena, though it was a longer route, more scenic, thus travelled less often by the bloodthirsty Arena patrons. He wondered if it was a group of people looking to join the League, beginning to follow after them. He kept his distance for a little while, watching, in no particular rush to catch up to them. After almost a kilometer of walking, nothing had aroused his suspicion, so he figured he might as well make his move, beginning to catch up to the group. Just as he came into earshot, he heard one of the League members loudly tell one of the civilians to shut up, smacking them over the back of the head.
Gibbons’ face turned serious. Now that he was close enough, he spotted that every civilian had their arms behind themselves, their wrists tied together with rope. His jaw went tight, his hands slowly clenching into fists down by his sides. “Of course, I have to come across this when I don’t have any of my gear. This must be one of those prisoner groups Tim mentioned. His dad might even be in this group.” Without his gear, he knew he could handle a League member. Two was a risky possibility, but if he was on his toes, he could pull it off. Three at once, he had never dealt with, and hoped he never did; facing three armed League members when he, himself, had nothing to defend himself with seemed very much like a losing proposition. There were five League members watching this group, far too many for Gibbons to contend with when he was unarmed and standing in broad daylight. He watched for a few seconds until something unexpected took place.
As he stood there, someone walked out from the trees by the path near the group, heading behind them, closing in. The figure was wearing a long-sleeved leather garment, similar to armour, reinforced sections over the elbows and shoulders covered in dark metal. The figure was wearing skin-tight black leggings, black boots buckled up tight to go with it. The figure wore a shroud-like cowl, covering the head with a hood, wrapped around some of the shoulders and hanging down behind them to the middle of their back. In sheathes on the outsides of the figure’s thighs, there appeared to be a small pair of swords, possibly even dirks, like Gibbons’ own. What really made the figure catch Gibbons’ eye was how they had two holsters against the small of their back, a pair of firearms snugly tucked inside. He slipped behind a nearby tree, watching keenly, wondering what the figure was up to. They walked up close behind the group before the figure’s arms went out by it’s sides, a pair of firearms in their hands.
They squeezed the trigger and instantly killed two League members, blood spraying out from the sides of their heads. Gibbons’ eyes widened. Another person fighting the League, like he did? Could it be that he wasn’t the only one taking a stand against the League? Before the other League members could react, the figure had dropped it’s two firearms, suddenly pulling out the ones behind it, using them to hastily kill off another two League members. The civilians dropped to the ground, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire. The last League member fired at the figure, hitting them in the stomach. The figure pulled out one last firearm from in front of itself, shooting the League member in the chest, watching her collapse to the ground. The figure holstered it’s firearm before grabbing the ones it had used and discarded, holstering them all once more. The civilians got back up to their feet. “Are you gonna let us go?” Gibbons heard one of them ask.
He didn’t catch what the figure said in response, watching them pull out one of their wavy short swords, seeing that they were no longer than his dirks, maybe even a bit shorter. The figure began to go from person to person, cutting their bindings and freeing man, woman, and child, the group all scattering and fleeing into the trees. Gibbons smiled, stepping out from behind the tree, walking out onto the dirt path. He had no clue who the figure was, but he had a burning want to find out. If they were like him, they could work together to take down the League, pool their efforts together and be all the stronger for it.
He had barely taken a few steps towards the figure when they darted off, running back into the trees. He took a few running steps forwards before coming to a stop. “Shit.” He muttered out, glancing behind himself, just in case someone had heard the shooting and had started coming down the path. He let out a disappointed sigh, looking back to the League corpses on the path. He could loot them, take their firearms, black powder, and slugs, maybe even find other valuables to sell off, make some quick gold. He wished the mysterious attacker hadn’t ran off so suddenly, he had wanted to introduce himself, try and ask them to work alongside him. With a wound in the belly, the figure was in need of medical assistance, assistance he could’ve given. He stood in the path for several moments, conflicted, wondering if he should loot the bodies and then hide them to keep suspicions down, try and follow after the figure, or just walk away from the scene entirely.
He had just made up his mind to loot the bodies when he heard a quick few steps come up behind him. He had been about to twirl around when a hand suddenly grabbed his chin, pulling his head back. Something cold pressed to his throat, Gibbons feeling the sharp edge nick him a little. The figure didn’t cut his throat right away, which gave Gibbons some small amount of relief. If it had been a League member who had known he was a Hero, he knew he would’ve already been dead. It had to have been someone else. They brought their body close to his, their breath coming out warm against the back of his neck. “You’re the one that killed those League members, set those people free.” He said, raising an eyebrow gently. A woman’s voice responded to him. “Why were you watching? What’s your angle? You a League supporter? Heading to the Arena to watch some executions?” Gibbons smiled a little. “You have no idea how wrong you are. I have zero love for the League. I’ve been killing them off whenever I can.”
“Why should I believe that?” She angrily questioned, giving his chin a bit of a yank, pulling his head farther back. He blinked and half-smiled. “Listen to me. I can’t prove I’m a Hero, I don’t have my Seal with me. But I’ve been fighting the League every step of the way during this little uprising of their’s, and I think my methods are a lot like your’s.” “You’re lying.” She hastily muttered out. He felt the blade quiver ever so slightly against his throat, knowing the young woman was holding her blade tighter, ready to pull it to the side and end his life. In the blink of an eye, Gibbons fired an elbow back into her stomach, where he knew her wound was. With his other hand, he smacked her blade away from his throat, knocking her arm to the side. The bash against her wound hurt enough to make her stumble backwards, and with her knife away from his throat, he could pull away from her other hand without losing any blood. He spun around to face her just in time to catch a flurry of blows, the girl connecting three speedy punches into his face.
The sudden onslaught knocked him down to the ground. He saw her jump over him, holding her wavy, curved blade up, aiming the point directly for his face. Her blade looked like steel, but it had the sheen of silver, an odd glittery quality to the metal. He had never seen anything like it, but that didn’t mean he wanted to die by it. He rolled to the side, narrowly dodging the attack, the beautiful blade sinking into the dirt. Getting up, he spun around against the ground, kicking into the backs of her legs. She fell down hard on her back, Gibbons lunging closer to her. He grabbed her second blade and pulled it from her sheath, using it to stop her from swiping at his stomach. He grabbed her wrist and gave it a hard twist, wrenching her other blade out of her hand, making her wince at the pain. He got over her and pinned her to the ground. They were both panting a little as he brought the blade he had taken from her to her throat. She looked a few years older than him, like she were in her early or mid twenties.
Her skin was bright, fair. She had crimson hair, red but dark, rusty, almost. Her hair was cut short, her long and messy bangs in her face, partially covering her eyes. Her eyes were coloured like bright gold, unnaturally yellow, looking up at him defiantly, without fear or regret. Her supple lips were formed into a bit of a sneer. “Do it, I’m not afraid.” She angrily urged. Gibbons looked down into her eyes as he firmly said “I’m not going to, because I don’t want to. I think we can help each other.” She looked at him with a flash of deeper anger for some reason, but he continued, saying “The Guild was my home. I’ve been fighting the League ever since the beginning. I’ve been doing it by myself all this time, and I got used to the idea...But I’ve never seen someone fight the League like I do, not until now. Now that I have, I think working together would be for the best.” The young woman gave up a laugh. Smiling disarmingly, she said “That’s a joke. Look, kid. I’ll admit, you probably are a Hero, since you managed to get me in this position. But I don’t work with people. I work alone, it’s how I’ve managed to stay alive all this time. That and some real skill, anyway.”
Gibbons kept the blade to her throat as he said “I know what you mean. I’ve been to Bowerstone, Oakvale, and now here. I probably wouldn’t have lasted this long if I had some untrained idiot with me. But I know you can handle yourself, and if we pool our efforts, we can make a bigger impact.” Her face went cool. “How do I know you aren’t some untrained idiot? Look, my answer is no. I don’t work with people, got it? I can’t trust anybody, especially not some punk keeping a knife to my throat while he talks to me. If you don’t like it, go ahead and kill me.” Gibbons stared hard into her eyes. Her eyes went a little wide. “Do it.” She fearlessly urged. Gibbons felt wild frustration rise up in him. He had finally found someone who must’ve thought along the very same lines as he did, who fought the League like he did, who had the same paranoia about safety, but she couldn’t see how working together would benefit them both.
He shot his hand up and slammed her blade into the ground by her head. She didn’t flinch, she didn’t even blink. Looking down into her eyes with obvious anger, he firmly said “Fine, if you want to have that attitude, we can forget we ever saw each other, today. But bear in mind that I’ll be using the night to attack the League whenever I can, and I am going to do something about whatever they’re doing with the Arena.” Her brow twitched downwards, the fire in her eyes weakening just a touch. She narrowed her eyes a little, frowning, listening as he continued. “If you see me taking down some League members or supporters, just keep your distance. If you’re not going to work with me, then I want you as far away from me while I’m doing my thing as you can be.” He got up from her, breathing a little heavily with frustration as he quickly walked away from her. After a dozen steps, he ended up looking back over his shoulder, seeing she had already grabbed her blades and disappeared.
He shook his head with disappointment, muttering furiously to himself as he headed for the Witchwood Arena once more. When he realized there was blood that had trickled out on his throat from the girl putting her knife against him, he almost shouted out in anger. He’d have to get himself cleaned up and let the injury heal entirely before he approached the Arena, otherwise he might arouse suspicion. Not only had the girl refused to work with him, but she had disrupted his plan. He turned around and headed back for Knothole Glade, his eyes ablaze the entire time, his pace quick, his feet hitting the ground hard.
Darrah was enjoying a private bit of tea in her bedroom, facing the windows in her room, lounging in the light. It had proven to be a fairly hot day at the estate, so considering Darrah was alone and expected to remain that way for some time, she had slipped out of her dress, trying to stay cool in just her underwear, socks, and heel-like slippers. Her balcony door was wide open, letting in as much fresh and wind-swept air as possible, Darrah desperately not wanting heat to get trapped in her room and turn the temperature stifling. She raised her expensive little porcelain cup to her lips, about to take a sip of her minty tea when she heard a voice faintly emanate from her suit of armour. On display on a mannequin nearby, Darrah’s armour was always in her bedroom, kept close in case she needed it. Placed up on a rack fixed to the wall, near the mannequin, her sword and shield were on display, her sword placed vertically behind her shield.
She knew the voice was coming from her Guild Seal, attached to her armour from behind, nestled out of sight beneath the cape. She put her cup down in a hurry, quickly getting up and walking over towards her armour, wondering with a smile if Timoteo was attempting to contact her. She stuck her arm under the armour’s cape, grabbed her Seal, and pulled it out of the little slot it fit into. Holding it near her chest, she recognized a voice she hadn’t heard in quite some time. The connection was weak, fuzzy almost, slipping in and out of silence. “Darrah...’M here with...Er. I’m safe...Ought I’d let you guys...Een a while. How are you?” Darrah’s face slowly went confused. “Brute, is that you? It’s been ages. I didn’t make out everything you said, though. Our connection is weak, for some reason. Where have you been?” Brute’s voice faded in and out as he said “I said, I’m...Your brother. We ran into...Is new land.” Darrah’s eyes lit up, a big, excited smile growing on her face. “Is he alright?” She asked.
Brute said “Yeah, he’s fi...I wanted to...Left Knothole Glade. It was getting too dangerous. I...Ndering how you guys...Ing. Oh, wait...Here he is.” Darrah held her breath for a few seconds before the instantly familiar voice of her beloved older brother sounded out over the Seal. “Darrah, is...You?” Darrah grinned widely, warmly saying “Craig! It’s been so long! How are you?” Craig spoke affectionately as he said “I had no...You’d be back from the Gui...How’s the family?” Darrah quickly said “Dad and mom’s fine, but you wouldn’t believe how nasty Natalie’s gotten. There was a bandit attack on the estate a while back, but we’re fine, we got rid of them all. We’re tracking down the leader’s base so we can get rid of him. Where are you?” “A new land...Ross the sea. Nothing at all...Bion. Found your friend...As been helping me...Ean things up around here. They call it...Strange land, but...Ant to see you. I’ll be coming...In the next few weeks.”
Darrah said “I’m sorry, the connection’s weak, maybe it’s because of how far away you are. Did you say you were coming back home?” Craig chuckled warmheartedly. “Yeah, I’m coming back h...I’m looking forward...Atching up. I’ve been missing you...Nce you left.” Darrah was smiling happily, her eyes content. “I’ll be here, I’m waiting. I can’t wait to see you again.” “Brute and I need...We’re getting a ship and...I’ll bring you back something nice. See you soon.” Darrah wanted to talk more with her brother, but after years of not seeing him, talking to him for even a minute was wonderful. “Okay, I’ll see you soon. I really miss you. I can’t wait for you to get back.”
“We’ll have all the...The world to catch up.” He said, his tone friendly. A moment later, the blue glow surrounding her Seal faded. Darrah hadn’t been as happy as she was at that moment in a long time. Replacing her Seal under her armour’s cape, she did a little twirl, turning away from her armour as she walked back over to her tea. She felt like she was walking on sunshine, humming happily to herself as she slipped her dress back on, finishing off her cup of tea before heading for her bedroom door. “I need to tell daddy about this. He’s coming home early! We should plan a welcoming party! Everything’s got to be perfect!” She thought, her eyes gaining an excited glitter.
Once Bianca was satisfied with the things she and Timoteo had gotten together, Grizelda set off into Darkwood with them, taking them deeper into the region than Timoteo had ever been before. There were never any paths, never any signs of a human presence. Howls could be heard on the wind every few minutes, balverines tracking other native animals while letting off calls of the hunt. They passed by a large hobbe encampment at one point, and though the hobbes spotted them, the trio kept their distance, the two dozen hobbes either not feeling threatened or not believing the trio was worth chasing after. At one point, a large crowd of wisps shot into the ground near them, raising up numerous Hollow Men to attack the group with. Grizelda waved a hand at the group, a cascading wave of purple magic coming over the group. They simply stood there, watching the group depart, their hostile intentions seemingly snuffed out.
The trek took several hours, Timoteo and Bianca exhausted after a little over twenty hours straight of walking. Grizelda warned them that stopping to rest could have consequences, but she could see they were in desperate need of sleep. The group settled down and caught a few hours of sleep, the three of them jolting awake when a loud howling rose up nearby. A huge balverine, stark white in colouration, stood near their camp, howling out, likely to alert others of it’s kind that it had found prey. Timoteo and Bianca began throwing spells at it, Bianca casting dark green, whizzing spells, Timoteo launching fireballs. Grizelda cast a curse on the balverine, gray electricity flashing along it’s legs, the balverine collapsing as it’s legs turned useless beneath it. Timoteo charged up a fireball for several seconds, Bianca letting a purple light grow between her hands, her Drain Life spell charging up, like his. They fired them out at the same time, Timoteo’s spell reacting with her’s.
Her Drain Life spell hit the balverine in a small explosion of fire, thin tendrils of flaming light connecting the balverine to Bianca. It shook as it began to shrivel up, turning bony and emaciated as it’s life force was sucked away. Bianca shut her eyes and hung her head back a little, the flaming tendrils conveying the balverine’s life to her, filling her with it’s natural energies. She had no wounds to heal, but regardless, the spell took from it and gave to her, slaying it. The tendrils connecting the two faded, the group getting a move on before more balverines could come. After a few more hours of travelling, the group suddenly stopped, facing a serious obstacle; three earthen trolls began to rise up from the ground nearby, their booming growls signalling they had detected the trio and were looking for a fight. Grizelda told the two to stand back before she displayed power that shocked Timoteo. Grizelda put one foot in front of the other, bracing herself.
She held her arms up in the air a little, bright orange lights coming from the palms of her hands. Clashing sounds rapidly began appearing, like swords were wildly being whipped against each other. She was casting a Blades spell from either hand, six swords of orange light hovering in front of either hand, the dozen firing out for the nearest troll. Every other second, she launched out a dozen blades, raining the swords down on the trolls like they were falling stars. Grizelda kept up this barrage for close to a minute, slaying two of the trolls, leaving the third slightly wounded. She cast a hex on the last one, some sort of wasting affliction plaguing the troll a moment later, it’s body breaking up and disintegrating. It quickly broke down to nothing, flailing in confusion and pain as it came apart, struggling wildly as it died. “We’re almost there.” Grizelda simply said. Bianca noticed how shocked Timoteo was at seeing some of Grizelda’s capabilities with Will, seeming a little amused, holding back a little laugh. Eventually, Grizelda’s home for the two became apparent...
It was a small two-floored building, made of black wood, the tiles on the roof dark gray in colour. A few windows over the front of the building showed nothing but darkness, the front door to the building being gray metal. The home was nestled in a small mist-filled depression, tall trees reaching up around the depression, offering very effective cover for the building. Unless someone stumbled upon the building, they would never see it, it was just too easily kept from sight. Witchspotters would never be able to see it from a distance. Grizelda smiled, beginning to descend the slope into the depression, saying “Ahh...It’s been a long time since I saw this place. It hasn’t changed a bit.” Bianca smiled happily, reaching over and holding one of his hands, her eyes darting around at the sight of her new dwelling. In her free hand, she held two black bags of her belongings, Timoteo holding another two in his own free hand. “It’s beautiful.” Bianca lightly said.
Grizelda confidently said “It’s cozy and out of the way. You’ll be safe, here.” Looking back at Bianca with a little grin, she said “And best of all, since you’ll be alone, you can walk around naked all you want.” Bianca’s expression turned unimpressed. “And just like that, the magic is gone.” She muttered out. Timoteo smiled a little, Grizelda letting out a laugh. She walked up to the front door before them, turning the knob and pushing it open. She raised a hand, snapped her fingers, and brought the interior of the building into illumination, dozens of candles around the home coming into life. Timoteo and Bianca took a moment to look around, smiling a little, getting familiar with their new home together. The floor was cool, dark cobblestone, just like in the cottage. Just to the right of the front door was the kitchen, a wooden table with numerous chairs set around it in the center of the room, cabinets and shelves with various items set along the walls.
Several lit candles stood in the center of the table, as well as in little sconces set in the walls around the room. Across from the front door was a staircase leading upwards, the staircase starting a little off to their left sides. Just behind the staircase, in the kitchen, there was a wooden door, possibly leading to a cellar. Over to the left, by the foot of the staircase, there was a fireplace, a pair of chairs seated before it. Beside the fireplace was a tall grandfather clock, quietly ticking away. Various art pieces hung on the walls, typically depicting landscapes. Up the stairs was a little bedroom, the bed itself taking up a fair bit of space, a dresser beside it, a small desk on the other side of the room, a leather chair seated before it. Bianca smiled happily, coming close to Timoteo, raising a hand to his chest. “It’s beautiful.” She quietly said, looking around a little more. Grizelda smiled at them, pleased they were happy with their new accommodations.
“In the basement, there’s several casks of cider, along with some other odds and ends. I believe I kept a little garden above the depression, just behind the house. Of course, I doubt anything’s still growing, but I bet there’s still some bags of seeds, around here. You could plant them and start growing potatoes, carrots, peas, anything you like. There’s a stream nearby for bathing and fishing, too.” “It’s perfect. I don’t know how to thank you.” Timoteo said, smiling at Grizelda. Grizelda waved a hand at him, dismissing his words. “It’s no trouble. I haven’t used this place in quite some time, so it’s no issue letting you two have it.” Grizelda turned to Bianca, saying “Will you be fine here? If you have any final issues or concerns, Bianca, now’s the time to air them. I need to get back to the Chasm as soon as I can, I don’t want Octavia sneaking up on the place while I’m away.” Bianca shook her head lightly, still standing close to Timoteo’s side.
Smiling lightly, she gently said “No, I love it...Thank you so much for letting me stay.” Grizelda smiled warmly, saying “Just stay safe, dear.” Bianca nodded a little, giving Timoteo’s hand a little squeeze. Grizelda headed over to the front door, opening it up as she said “I’ll try to visit as soon as I can. Try not to get into any trouble, you two.” Timoteo and Bianca said their goodbyes as Grizelda stepped beyond the threshold, quietly shutting the door behind herself. Heading through Darkwood at a hasty pace, she moved for the Chasm as quickly as she could, crossing much more territory than she had when she was guiding the two young lovers to their new home. As she neared the edge of Darkwood, she knew she needed to stop for a bit to sleep; powerful magi or not, sleep was simply a fundamental necessity. As she walked along a dirt path, skeletal trees reaching high on either side of her, she searched for some sort of discreet clearing, an area open enough for her to lie down and stretch her legs in, but not so open that it would be investigated by anybody who saw it.
As she strolled along, she eventually noticed a small group of individuals down on the path, coming towards her. They numbered around six or seven, each one having a pack of supplies hanging over a shoulder. The left corner of her mouth flickered upwards when she saw their black coats and black hats, the wide brims of their hates partially casting their faces in shadow. When they saw her, they reached into their jackets, pulling out firearms. “You there!” One of them called out. Grizelda took a few slow steps off to the side, towards the trees. “You came earlier than I expected!” Grizelda called out, her tone friendly.
Stepping closer to the trees, she raised a hand, reaching out and touching one tree, resting her hand flat against the gnarled bark. In an almost flirtatious voice, she seductively said “Come for the witch of Darkwood? Well, you’ve found her! The first good little boy or girl that catches me will get a nice treat! Who’s up to the challenge?” The Witchspotters began to run towards her. “Stop right there, witch scum!” One of them angrily shouted out. Grizelda winked at them before calmly walking off into the trees, heading into the skeletal forks of wood. When the Witchspotters had gotten to where she had been standing, they looked around in the trees, wildly trying to spot any sign of their target. They found not a clue. The witch of Darkwood had vanished like a ghost.
Gibbons had just come back home after a day of swooning some ladies, enjoying juggling woman after woman, flirting with each whenever he could. He had needed it, it had been just the thing to take his mind off of the assassin girl he had dealt with earlier. Not many things had ever aggravated him like she had, she had hit a particularly sore spot by refusing to work with him. It just made no sense to him whatsoever; their methods were similar if not the same, they had the same enemy, she could’ve even been a Hero, for all he knew. It was more than likely the case that she were, and yet, for some maddening reason, she couldn’t see how it’d be the most beneficial for them to work together. He had eventually relented in how deeply he blamed her, reflecting on how he might’ve reacted the same way to someone approaching him like that, just a few short weeks before. The more he thought it over, the more he thought she was like him, and the more he wanted to believe that they could’ve been excellent partners.
It took an almost romantic shine to him after a while; the two of them, fighting the League from the shadows, spreading anarchy and strife, tearing apart the League’s ranks and leadership. It was getting pretty late, but not yet time for his expected date to arrive, he still had about an hour to cook up some dinner and get his home into a more romantic feel. As he pulled his key from his pocket and brought it to his door, he spotted someone walk around the corner of his house, seeing them approach him through the corner of his eye. He looked over and blinked with surprise when he saw the assassin girl from earlier in the day, approaching him casually despite walking in the darkness. His free hand flew behind him, to the small knife he had kept with himself ever since their encounter earlier on, slipped into his back pocket. She knew he was reaching for a weapon, raising her hands placatingly, quickly saying “Wait, I’m not here to fight. I’m not your enemy.”
Gibbons narrowed his eyes at her, saying “Could’ve fooled me. Even when I made it clear I wanted to take down the League as much as you did, you still wanted to cut my throat.” She raised her hands to her cowl, pulling it back and revealing her head. She looked at him coolly, unapologetically saying “If you’re surprised by my caution, maybe it was a mistake to come here. It’s better to be safe than sorry. Killing you would’ve ensured no witnesses, other than the people I saved...Nobody to badmouth me and get attention put on me.” Gibbons calmly said “I understand where you’re coming from, but it doesn’t make me think you any less hardheaded. What do you want? You made it clear that you work alone.” The girl glanced around, speaking a little quieter as she said “Look, I took a big risk coming here. League’s been watching this place for a while, now. People that dress like I do typically end up with firearms at the backs of their heads.”
Gibbons pretended not to be sympathetic to her situation. “Just tell me what you want. I’m not going to blindly let you into my home. Bad enough you know where I live, you’ve obviously been watching me for a while.” She raised her hands to her hips, looking downwards for a moment, letting out a sigh. Slowly, with obvious effort, she admitted “Alright, look...I did some thinking about what you said, and...Yeah, okay? I think maybe you were right. We’d get more done if we worked together.” Gibbons looked at her with a touch of surprise, his eyes opening a little, his face otherwise unflinching. She could see the look in his eyes, quickly adding “I’m going to need proof that you’re really a Hero, though. And some proof that you’re not an amateur. Can we go inside, already?” Gibbons unlocked the door, pushed it inwards, and gestured for her to step inside. “You first.” He simply said. She slowly walked over, eyeing him a little untrustingly, her hands drifting towards her weapons in case he was trying to lead her into a trap. He glanced around before stepping inside as well, shutting the door behind himself...
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Fable : Fall of the Guild