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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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The Frozen Island.
Fable : Fall of the Guild

Part IX - "Hook Coast"

By: Jesse Racine AKA Samson

Original Date Written: October 16, 2012

“Mm! There’s something about cold air, it’s exhilarating.” “W-What’re you t-talking about, Tim? Autumn was j-just starting to get windy and ch-chilly. I can’t stop shivering!” He smiled pleasantly. “Just take a deep breath, it’s great.” “What, d-does this remind you of Darkwood?” He glanced at her with a bit of a smirk. “Darkwood’s not this cold.” He merely answered. Their ship, the Sea Lion, calmly ran through the cool water, the fairly sized vessel made of a light brown wood and displaying immense white sails. Following close behind it like a flock would follow the pack leader, another three dozen ships, even larger than the Sea Lion, sailed through the waters. The fleet under Alexander’s command had been at sea for two days so far, and was expected to continue on the waters for another two or three. The ship at the tip of the formation served as a private vessel for Alexander, as well as the Heroes.
Timoteo had woken up rather early, finding the rocking and swaying of the ship highly disorienting. He had been a bit surprised to find that Bianca didn’t appear to be bothered, at all; she had been sleeping like a babe when he had woken up and slipped out of bed. When he had gone out on to the ship’s deck, the only other person he found was Darrah, miserably bundled up in her bed sheets on the ship’s bow, shivering like mad. She was wrapped in the blanket from the neck down, one arm keeping the sheets tight together over her front to keep her from being exposed to the elements, the other arm sticking out with her weak excuse for breakfast. The sun was up, yet was blotted out by heavy grey clouds, threatening them with rain and violent waves. A heavy layer of mist sat over the ocean, blanketing it with chilly air and frigid gusts of wind. When he had walked up behind Darrah, she had flinched with surprise, turning and looking to him with wide eyes.
She was trying to eat a strawberry jam sandwich, but she didn’t actually seem very hungry, slowly munching on the sandwich every now and then. They stood together on the ship’s bow, close enough that their sides were touching, Darrah looking out of place in her blanket next to the fully-dressed Timoteo. Timoteo wondered how much Darrah was wearing under the blanket, wondering if she had just slipped out of bed and taken the sheets with her. “If she’s got some clothes on, she can’t be all that cold...” He thought, glancing sidelong at her. “I thought Hook Coast would be exciting, but if it’s g-gonna be even colder than this, I w-won’t hold my breath.” Darrah muttered, gloomily. Only the rocking of the boat really bothered him. The nip in the air suited him fine, he didn’t find it much of a bother. He smiled and brought an arm around her shoulders, rubbing along her arm, looking over at her. A bit teasingly, he said “Oh, come on. Foreign animals, all that snow coming down, new people...You’re practically going to Aurora!”
“I’d trade the s-snow for sand, any day.” Darrah muttered, taking another bite from her sandwich. Timoteo chuckled a little, looking back out into the mist. “Anyway, I didn’t plan on staying out here. I’m beat.” Darrah added, once she had swallowed. “I hate my b-bed, though. The thing’s practically m-made out of ice. Nothing I do warms it up.” “Yeah, I bet. Our bed wasn’t so warm when we first got in, either. It warmed up eventually, though, enough for us to sleep fine.” “Do I even wanna know?” Darrah asked, raising an eyebrow, looking over at him. He smiled and said “It’s not like that. We’re two people, right? With two people staying close, they can heat each other up. That, in turn, means we can warm up the bed better. We’re sharing warmth.” “Mmph. I’d sleep with Craig, but he wanted t-to take a ship with some of the others. Thinks it’ll help him c-connect better to the men if they don’t think he’s arrogant. Wesley and M-Miller had the same idea.”
Timoteo gave her arm a few more rubs. “If you hate your bed that much, why don’t you sleep with Alexander?” Darrah’s eyes went a little uncomfortable as she looked over at him. He grinned at her. She narrowed an eye at him for a moment. “Shut up. He’s my father. That’s weird, that’s different.” She said, lightheartedly. He chuckled. “Well, you could sleep with us. Bear in mind that I’ll probably be cuddling with Bianca, and you might have to explain to her why you woke up in our bed, again.” “D-Deal.” Darrah readily said, her jaw beginning to chatter. She quickly started finishing off her sandwich, Timoteo taking his arm from her, turning and beginning to head off. Darrah quickly followed after him, scurrying somewhat from both the cold and the blanket wrapped tight around her, catching up with him in a moment.
“Hey, Robin? Are you awake yet, baby? I brought some beer, high quality stuff. Just found it on a raid.” Elijah had a smile on his face, walking into the dark Knothole Glade home, shutting the front door behind himself. His eyes were drooping with want for sleep, his coat comfortably loose. A tall black bottle was in his left hand, a yellow paper label stuck to the front, the cork stuck in the bottle’s top coloured black. Elijah sighed as he pulled off his boots, yawning as he slipped off his coat, hanging it up on the rack across from the front door. “Robin?” Elijah repeated, walking down the short hallway to the left, walking into the living room. Glancing around, he didn’t see his significant other, walking over towards the kitchen area on the other side of the living room. As he placed the bottle down on a counter, he heard someone sit down in one of the living room chairs behind him. He smiled, turning around, saying “Robin, I...” He trailed off when he heard the flintlock mechanism, the hammer getting cocked back.
He went stiff, standing stock still for a moment, fully expecting the shot. Gibbons smirked a little, sitting in the comfortable chair with his firearm in his right hand, sitting over his right thigh. Though he may have struck a bit of a relaxed pose, his finger was steady over the trigger, the firearm threateningly pointed at Elijah. “You.” Elijah muttered, staring hard at the other man. He slowly relaxed, a bit of confidence returning to him. “Where’s Robin?” He asked. Gibbons raised his eyebrows, a smug look still on his face. “Take a seat, Elijah. We should have a chat.” Elijah’s eyes drifted over towards a comfy fabric chair across from Gibbons, then back to Gibbons. Slowly, he walked towards the chair, fearlessly asking “Are you going to shoot me?” Gibbons’ smirk grew into an unnerving smile. “That depends on you.” “The guards will hear. Hell, the entire town will hear. You’d never get a mile away from this house.” “I really don’t care about the guards.”
Elijah began to smile, turning his head to the side, narrowing an eye. “This is about Robin splitting you and Sarah up, isn’t it, Avery?” “Partly. You’ve really been going out of your way to mess things up for us. We’ve been getting pretty sick of it.” Elijah glanced around, appearing rather at ease as he said “Where is miss Valentine, anyway? I’d assume she’d be in on this.” “You worry about the situation at hand, Elijah. Never mind where she is.” Gibbons coolly answered. Elijah looked back to Gibbons and stared hard into his eyes. “Alright, let’s cut the crap.” He firmly said. His brow going deep, he coldly said “You haven’t shot me yet, so obviously, you want something. Question is, what?” “I wanna talk to you about the League, and Heroes.” Elijah smirked, raising one leg, crossing it over the other. “I know you’re one of them. A sympathizer.” Elijah calmly and confidently stated. Gibbons raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise as he responded with a simple “Is that right?”
Elijah narrowed his eyes a little. “You’re one of them. You wormed your way into the League because you knew hitting us from the inside would cause some serious chaos. Problem is, you’re sloppy. Your partners were dying too frequently. Missions were getting botched too often. It wasn’t a matter of you two being incompetent. You don’t hold with the League’s ideals, at all.” “Well, shit. I guess you’ve got us all figured out.” Gibbons calmly mocked, his smile taking a patronizing twist. Elijah’s jaw went tight for a moment before he forced himself to relax. “Let me ask you something...” Elijah said, quickly sitting up a little, uncrossing his legs. “Careful.” Gibbons quickly warned, raising his firearm up, pointing it straight for Elijah’s chest. “Another sudden move like that, and my finger might just twitch.” Gibbons coldly muttered, no smile on his face. Elijah raised an eyebrow slightly, but it was clear to Gibbons that he wasn’t ignoring the warning.
“What is it about Heroes that has your support?” Elijah asked, with genuine, albeit suppressed, bewilderment. Gibbons turned his question right back at him. “How could you possibly agree with the League, or the methods it uses?” He asked, trying not to let his anger obvious in his tone. “Heroes are a menace. They’ve always been a menace.” Elijah matter-of-factly stated. “What about the Hero of Oakvale?” Gibbons jabbed. Elijah rolled his eyes a little and spoke with a bored tone. “Ah, yes. The Hero of Oakvale, the saviour of Heroes everywhere. Do you have any idea how many people I’ve heard bring that man up to try and redeem all Heroes? He was the exception. Where is he now, anyway? Nobody even knows! He vanished. He was just as cruel as other Heroes, he just didn’t have enough time to show it.” “Not all Heroes are evil.” Gibbons calmly said. Elijah’s face scrunched up for a second with amusement.
“All Heroes are driven purely by self-interest, even the ones who don’t walk around setting people on fire. Nobody should have the power that Heroes have. It’s just not right, it’s too corrupting. There are two types of Heroes in this world: the ones that kill innocents, and the ones that are afraid of society’s views. Thunder and Briar Rose, you think they did good because that was what lay in their hearts? No! Thunder lusted for glory, and Briar Rose was just plain-old greedy. They just hid it because they were afraid of what people would think of them.” “Heroes stopped Jack of Blades. He’s gone, and he’ll never come back.” “If we had had firearms back then, we could’ve gotten rid of Jack, ourselves.” Elijah angrily stated. “Bullshit. You obviously have no idea what Jack was capable of.” Gibbons instantly retorted. “Even if you think Heroes are all evil, how can you justify what the League’s doing? Humiliating public executions?”
“Sends a message to the rest.” Elijah merely said, shrugging a little. “Killing children?” Gibbons demanded, his tone becoming angry. Elijah shrugged again. “They could grow up to fight the League. Get rid of them now, and the future is secured.” “I’d be careful if I were you, ‘cause now you’re starting to piss me off.” Gibbons darkly said, narrowing his eyes. Elijah blinked, but didn’t appear intimidated. “Heroes do good, they help people. People naturally want to help people, and Heroes are no different. Just because they can fight better than ordinary people, doesn’t mean they’re all greedy, self-important maniacs at heart.” “You’re naive. Innocence is a blatant lie. Corruptions always fester just beneath the surface, waiting for a chance to bubble over. All Heroes fall to some kind of temptation eventually, and once they take part in evil, they can’t wait to embrace it again.” Gibbons was quiet for a moment, his eyes still narrow. “...What the hell is wrong with you?” He said, with disbelief.
“The hell’s wrong with you? We’re fighting to make Albion safer, and you’re trying to screw things up for us, for everyone. Far as I’m concerned, you’re a traitor to all of Albion.” Elijah coldly stated, crossing one leg over the other, again. Gibbons and Elijah both flinched as a loud bang sounded out, blood bursting from Gibbons’ right shoulder. Gibbons’ jaw went tight, writhing a little from the agonizing wound, he and Elijah both looking over towards the nearby hallway. Robin stood there, the woman who typically handed Gibbons and Marilyn their League assignments. She was just in her underwear, as Gibbons had found her in bed. There were raw, red marks on her wrists and ankles, as well as across her cheeks, towards her mouth. Somehow, she had managed to escape her bindings. She held a smoking firearm in her hands, pointing it at Gibbons, the woman breathing heavy with anger. Her short brown hair almost swung around from the speed with which she looked at Elijah, urgently saying “Quick, grab him!”
Gibbons took his firearm in his left hand, knowing his right arm was too injured to use. Robin’s face went a little blank when Elijah jumped from his seat, ran over to a nearby window, and pulled it open. He started to scramble through the opening as Gibbons pointed his firearm over at her, his face cold with anger. Elijah got through the window, quickly taking off in a run, racing off into the trees. Robin blinked, as if unable to comprehend Elijah’s abandonment. Another gunshot rang out, Robin’s abdomen recoiling backwards as the slug slammed into her belly. She stumbled backwards, blood flowing heavily from her wound, running down her body. She collapsed to the floor, breathing calmly, apparently in shock. Gibbons didn’t trust that Robin would bleed to death before the town guards came running. “Marilyn, get him!” Gibbons loudly said, heading into the kitchen.

He walked over into the kitchen, quickly holstering his firearm inside his jacket. He found a knife in the kitchen, holding it tight as he headed back towards Robin. He knelt beside her and grabbed a handful of her hair, lifting her head up off of the floor. Robin didn’t bother begging for mercy. Gibbons quickly brought the knife to her throat and slashed across it, making Robin shut her eyes in pain. He quickly pulled his arms from her, avoiding the heavy gush of blood that streamed out of her, letting her bleed over herself. He rushed away from her, dropping the knife to the floor, coming to the same window that Elijah had fled through. Pulling himself through and getting on his feet outside, he could barely see Marilyn, running off through the trees. He took off after her, hoping to help her stop Elijah before he could get out of sight. Blood ran through the fabric of his sleeve, his arm blasting explosive throbs of pain through him whenever it moved in the slightest, making the chase a severe test of his endurance.
Once he realized that Elijah was running in the direction of the Witchwood Arena, however, a mild ping of panic hit him, giving his feet wings. He raced after Marilyn, keeping her in sight. The chase led him towards a clearing in the thick, stout trees of Witchwood, Gibbons noticing that Marilyn was suddenly dipping down into the earth. Obviously, she was heading down a sharp hill, running into a depression. Gibbons ran to the edge of the depression and came to a stop, panting roughly as he looked around. The grassy descent before him headed down into a small pit-like area between two cliffs, each much taller than the hill he was atop of. Across the depression, another hill rose up, connected to the cliff to the right via a curving dirt path. Each cliff was attached to one another by a massive tree, felled some time before, the tree easily stretching across the pit-like area. Gibbons saw a figure standing on the tree, looking down at him with a bit of a smile.
It was Elijah, looking smug at how he was losing his pursuer. Marilyn was nowhere to be seen, meaning Elijah had a severe lead on Gibbons. Elijah brought a hand by his mouth, calling out to Gibbons. “If I were you, I’d get on the first ship across the sea that I could find! The League’s gonna scour Albion for you!” “Pretty cocky for somebody who’s still miles from the Arena, don’t you think?” Gibbons called back. Elijah held his arms out by his sides, tauntingly calling out “I’ll lose you before you even get up on this tree, moron! And where’s your whore? Looks like she couldn’t keep up with me any more than you could!” Before Gibbons could say anything, a furred creature abruptly bolted out from the trees on the cliff to the left, sprinting towards Elijah. Elijah didn’t notice until it was far too late. Gibbons watched as a balverine dove into Elijah, tackling him down over the tree. Elijah was barely able to cry out before the muscular beast whipped it’s claws across his abdomen, disembowelling him in seconds.
His weakening cries faded away when the beast plunged both hands into the sides of his chest, ramming it’s claws between his ribs, shredding his lungs. Gibbons smiled a little, glad to see what he felt was justice, glad that his and Marilyn’s futures were both secured, now. Judging by what Elijah had said earlier on, Gibbons didn’t believe he had yet told anybody about his suspicions on the duo, meaning the threat of exposure had died along with him. Gibbons was about to turn and walk away when the balverine suddenly looked in his direction. A moment later, it had jumped up from the felled tree, soaring a few feet up into the air before descending, deftly landing down in the pit. Gibbons stared hard at the balverine, his hands drifting behind himself, tucking into his coat. There wasn’t any time to reload his firearm, so he went for his dirks, ready to behead the balverine if it continued it’s approach. It ran up the hill towards him, and Gibbons yanked out his dirks, the weapons coming out with a gleam.
Surprisingly, the balverine came to a stop a few feet from him, staring at him while breathing heavily. Gibbons stared at it with alert confusion. He had never heard of a balverine being frightened by a mere human, armed or not. And yet, this one wasn’t attacking him. The balverine stared at him for a few seconds before it’s body began to change. The fur receded, the body became shorter and less hunched over, and the intense musculature faded. The claws slipped back into each finger until they became nails. The sharp teeth shrunk, and the head changed shape, becoming less like a canine’s. Gibbons watched with shock as the skin lightened, and the fur over the figure’s head turned rusty red. In a few more seconds, the balverine was gone, leaving behind the naked form of Marilyn. Marilyn’s hands were covered in blood from her murder of Elijah, droplets running from the ends of her fingers as she stood perfectly still, looking up at him.
He blinked in surprise. She said nothing, simply watching him. A few moments passed until Gibbons realized that Marilyn was waiting for a reaction from him, waiting for him to respond to her secret. Gibbons seemed quite at ease as he nonchalantly said “Well, I wasn’t expecting that.” Marilyn’s eyes fell for a couple of seconds before she met his again. “...I got him. He won’t be turning us in.” She said, a little hopefully. “Not with his guts out drying in the wind, that’s for sure.” Gibbons said with just a touch of amusement, raising a hand to the side of his head, scratching at his temple. “So?...Are we still partners?” Marilyn curiously asked, looking at him with a serious, though non-threatening expression. “We’re gonna have to have a serious talk about this...Condition of your’s.” “It’s not contagious, if that’s what you’re wondering. Unless I, you know, bite you.” “Balverines are wild beasts. Why aren’t you the same?” Marilyn sighed lightly, shook her head a little, put her hands to her hips.
“Honestly, I don’t know. I think I’m unusual, like that. I think that most people, once they change into a balverine, can’t turn back into a person. They turn feral, they like being an animal too much. Not only is the physical change permanent, but they forget what it’s like to be human.” “And what about you? How long have you been like this?” “Few years, now. I don’t really wanna talk about how it started.” Marilyn said, a little quietly. Gibbons raised his eyebrows, sheathing his dirks again, sounding interested as he said “And you don’t care about being naked, huh?” Marilyn’s eyes went half-closed, sounding a bit bored as she patiently explained “When I’m a balverine, technically, I’m running around naked. Do that enough times, and you stop caring about being naked in public.”
Gibbons grinned a little. “Suits me fine.” Marilyn let out a slow breath through her nose, seeming mildly annoyed with his comment, yet did nothing in the way of covering herself. “Now that Elijah’s out of the picture, we should get out of sight. Robin will just look like a robbery gone bad, and Elijah can be chalked up to dangerous wildlife. We should be free from suspicion.” He added. Marilyn walked up the hill until she was standing beside him, shaking her hands around, trying to throw off as much blood as possible. “Right. Let’s get out of here, I need to wash off this blood...”
Timoteo woke up to the sounds of Bianca and Darrah chatting, the two having a friendly conversation in hushed tones, obviously not wanting to interrupt his sleep. “...Will probably get served, soon. It’s too bad we’re sailing such cold water. I’d suggest fishing to catch some extra food. Cooking them would be an issue, though...” “We could start a fire once we come ashore.” “I guess. We don’t really have any fishing rods, though. It was just wishful thinking, I’m sure the water around here is too cold for any kind of fish that’d even be tasty.” “You can’t be sure. You should step out of your comfort zone more often, Darrah. You might find yourself enjoying things you never thought you’d take part in.” “Eh...Maybe. But any fish that lives in icy water probably looks like something out of an old spook story.” Bianca chuckled lightly. “Perhaps.” She merely replied. Timoteo slowly sat up, taking in a deep, sleepy breath.
The square-shaped room wasn’t all too big given that it was on a ship, and was understandably stocked with few creature comforts. The bed took up about a quarter of the room, with Timoteo’s and Bianca’s supply bags set down on the floor to the bed’s left. Near the supplies was the room’s wooden door, currently shut and locked tight from the inside. To the right was a small circular table, set in the corner with a few chairs placed around it. Darrah and Bianca sat at the table on either side of it, leaving a bit of space between them, presumably for Timoteo, if he wanted to join them. They both looked over when he moved in their peripheral vision, the both of them smiling a little. “Good morning, Tim. Are you hungry?” Bianca lightly asked. Timoteo laid back down in bed, mumbling out “A bit...Darrah slept with us because her bed was cold...” “I know, we already talked about it.” Bianca warmly responded.
Darrah stood up from her seat, saying “I’m gonna go see if my father’s awake, yet. We should have lunch together, I’ll come by when it’s ready.” “See you later.” Bianca lightly said, watching Darrah walk over to the bedroom door. Timoteo lazily raised a hand, giving Darrah a wave goodbye. When Darrah shut the door behind herself, Bianca stood up, walking over towards the bed. “Darrah told me you woke up early. Still having trouble sleeping?” She asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed, by his side. “It’s the rocking and heaving...I can understand why most people don’t try crossing the ocean.” Timoteo mumbled, raising a hand to his face, rubbing over his forehead, sinking his fingers into his hair. She reached over and placed a hand over his chest, lightly stroking back and forth. “I’m sorry...Is there anything I can do to help you?...” Bianca softly asked. “Is there such a thing as a sleeping potion?...Something to keep me asleep for hours on end, uninterrupted?...” He groggily asked, letting his arm fall back by his side, lying still with his eyes closed.
Bianca smiled gently, soothingly saying “I think a coma poison would be a bit excessive, in this case...But I may be able to help, somehow...” “Mm?” He mumbled. He felt her move, leaning over towards him in her spot. She gave his chest a little rub as she quietly spoke, murmuring “You know of some excellent ways to burn energy, I believe...” He smiled a little. She leaned over more, and he felt her touch her plump lips to his, kissing him delicately. He slowly reached around her, kissing her back. He held her close, letting her lie over him a little, feeling her let out a warm, content breath against his cheek. After a few oral embraces, he interrupted their kisses long enough to ask “How long do you think we have until lunch?...” Bianca smiled and affectionately answered with “I think we have enough time...” Timoteo grinned a little, giving her another, more passionate, kiss...
After days at sea, Alexander’s fleet saw the island on the distance. Coming around to the island’s northern side, avoiding icebergs here and there, the fleet eventually found what appeared to be a perfect spot for the ships to come ashore. A long stretch of coast, like a frozen beach, lay before them, beckoning them with promises of discreet harbour. Alexander stared at the incoming coast quietly, solemnly. They were approaching war. The cold breeze coming in from the north almost seemed to be attempting to discourage them from the battle, to turn them away from the harsh, unforgiving island. Alexander ordered the ships right up to the dirt of the coast, and one-by-one, people slid down ropes on to the hard, frigid earth, always coming down the bow of their ships to avoid landing in freezing cold water. The anchors of each ship were dropped before the last passenger left, ensuring the ships would stay put. Alexander’s army looked around at the unfamiliar land, at the territory they would do battle within.
Timoteo stood on the coast just in front of the Sea Lion, glancing around at the island environment. It was quiet, serene, as if the island was devoid of everything aside from the thick, stocky trees that formed a forest just up the shore. Timoteo would’ve found it peaceful were it not for the impending battle, instead finding himself unnerved by the quiet, by the calm before the storm. The first thing he had noticed once he had gotten off of the ship was that, despite now being on solid ground, he could still feel the rocking and waving of the ocean. It felt incredibly disorienting, as while he could sometimes forget about the constant motion of the ship while he was on it, being on land now felt too static. It were as if the ocean were inside him, still swaying to and fro, putting him in a state of constant imbalance. Even from his spot down by the water, he could tell that the trees of the island were different from those of the mainland.
Instead of having big, flat leaves, the branches of the island’s trees were covered simply in hundreds of sharp green needles, giving them a bit of an intimidating appearance. The branches of the trees were almost invisible under the blanket of weapon-likes needles, covering them from all sides. A mountain loomed up ahead, reaching high up in the horizon for several miles to the left and right, forming a veritable wall. The mountain was pure white with snow, though a few trees could be seen dotting the mountain’s side, stubbornly growing from whatever little dirt there could’ve been. The island was quite cold, and in seconds of being out and exposed to the incoming breeze, Timoteo was shivering. He wished he had a thick jacket with him, but unfortunately, he hadn’t seen one anywhere on the Sea Lion, leaving him in the cold. He looked over at Bianca, and his breath almost caught in his throat at the sight of her. Her pale skin blended in very well with the snowy background.
Her dark clothing and makeup made her very obvious, however, though with so much white around her, her already mystical appearance stood out and took on an even more attractive quality. Her blood-red eyes almost glowed in the frosty environment, Bianca slowly looking around at the island with interest. He saw her eyes head upwards, then follow something back downwards. She raised up a hand, watching as a snowflake fell into her palm, melting instantly from her body heat. She drew her cloak a bit closer around herself, though she left her hood back, for the time being. Timoteo was amazed. She seemed perfectly at home in the snowy locale, he didn’t think she was even shaking. He realized that her old home, Deltram, had been snowy when they had visited it, shortly after Octavia’s death. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but he supposed that Deltram may have been snowy much more often than the rest of Albion, if not constantly.
If so, it would explain Bianca’s apparent unresponsiveness to the island’s chilly weather. All in all, she was beautiful, the white background mimicking a canvas to capture her splendour. When she noticed him gazing at her, her cheeks turned a hint of pink, an affectionate smile growing on her supple lips. Alexander was quick to give direction. He shouted out an order for a minority of his men to scout out a good three miles of territory from the beach, to make sure the shore was safe from unwelcome eyes. Then, fires were built and tents were raised, giving relief from the cold and the wind. Food was brought from the ships and roasted over the flames, preparing hot food to celebrate the successful journey. The Heroes convened inside Alexander’s tent, looking over the maps Miller had made of the area prior to the fleet’s movement. A small table had been brought from one of the ships, the flaps of the tent secured shut so the wind couldn’t blow away the pieces of parchment.
Alexander, Craig, Wesley, and Miller all looked upon the maps, reviewing their battle plans, seeing if there were any additional, more efficient strategies they could devise. Darrah was dressed warmly under her knight armour, but she was still trembling, her jaw chatting lightly as fogs of steam drifted from her mouth. Interrupting a silence that had lasted close to a minute, she looked over at Bianca, abruptly saying “Avo, how are you not shivering, at least? I’m so cold I wanna jump into one of the fires, outside.” Brute looked at Darrah with a bit of a smile, saying “Leave her alone, Darrah. She’s not doing anything to you.” Darrah looked over to her other side, looking to her fellow Hero of Strength. She raised her eyebrows and indignantly said “I’m not, I-I, I’m just saying! I’m not being mean, I’m just saying, I’ve been freezing ever since we got on those ships.” Craig raised an eyebrow, agreeably saying “I have to say, I’ve been pretty cold ever since we got here, too. I pity the people up in Snowspire.”
Bianca looked at Darrah and quietly made a friendly offer. “I could make you a special tea, Darrah. I’d only need about an hour. It’ll help make warmth in your stomach.” Darrah looked at Bianca and smiled a little, trying not to let her jaw chatter as she thanked her. “Is the explosive safe?” Alexander asked, looking at Wesley. “Yes, my lord. The crew of that particular ship feel blessed that the explosive didn’t go off during the trip.” “As long as none of them go near the thing with a candle, we should be fine.” Miller remarked. “My lord?” A voice said, on the other side of the tent’s shut flaps. “Yes?” “The meat we took from the Sea Dweller, it’s ready for you and the Heroes. We just finished cooking it.” Alexander sighed lightly. “Excellent, bring it in. I haven’t eaten in hours, I’m famished.” Alexander said, his second sentence in more of a mutter than the first. “I could use something to eat, too.” Craig said, briefly bringing a hand to his stomach.
Wesley and Miller began to clear the table of the parchment pieces, rolling them up and tucking them away into packs placed on the ground, nearby. The tent flaps opened up, and a nondescript member of Alexander’s forces walked in, carrying a large platter covered with a generous stack of cooked meat chunks. The strips were slathered with a brown sauce, perhaps to make them more moist over the tongue. The meat strips were tender and dark brown, with a deliciously juicy aroma quickly filling up the tent. Timoteo smiled a little, his eyes on the platter as it was set down on the table. “Looks great.” He commented. The soldier set the platter down for them, then somewhat hastily made his way back out of the tent. With no chairs around, the group simply grabbed a hunk of meat each, each hunk big enough for several bites.
Brute held his up and took a look at it, turning it around a few times to examine it. “What kind of sauce do you think this is?” He asked, gazing over the thick brown sauce coating his strip. “Beats me. Smells great, though.” Craig merely said. Bianca narrowed her eyes, holding her strip close, giving it a suspicious sniff. Darrah took a big bite of her strip, chewed several times, then swallowed. She smiled a little, saying “Mm, the meat’s great, but the sauce is odd. Tastes kind of like almonds, of all things.” Bianca’s eyes went wide. “Stop!” She blurted out, throwing her strip back down to the platter. Everyone looked at her curiously. Bianca reached over and surprised Timoteo by snatching his piece of meat away, throwing it off to the side. “It’s poison!” She loudly declared.
Darrah’s eyes went wide. She dropped her meat piece to the ground, by her feet. Everyone else looked at Bianca with rising confusion, but they weren’t willing to take a chance, just in case she was telling the truth. “P-Poison?” Darrah said, her face turning pale. Bianca reached into her cloak, hastily pulling out a small glass vial topped with a pale white cork. Filled within the vial was a clear, sappy fluid, visually identical to water. Bianca pulled the cork away, stepped closer to Darrah, and handed her the vial, quickly saying “Drink this, it’ll stop the poison before it can do any harm, quick!” Darrah gave Bianca an unsure and fairly frightened look. She took the vial, swallowed down the concoction within, and gave a heavy sigh afterwards. Wesley rushed over to the tent flaps, stepped outside, and looked around. After a moment, he called out “You there! Did you see the man that brought us our meal?” Everyone heard a guard say “Yes, sir.”
Wesley angrily demanded “Find him and bring him to us. He tried to have us poisoned.” The guard didn’t ask questions. “Yes, sir.” He merely repeated, in a grim tone. Darrah looked at Bianca with a worried expression as Wesley walked back into the tent. “...I don’t feel anything.” She slowly said. “Are you sure about this?” Alexander asked, in an almost accusatory tone. Bianca nodded, taking the empty vial from Darrah, replacing it back in her cloak. Now that the danger had been averted, she calmed back down to her usual quiet self. “Lupus Tyrannus, a poison taken from balverine organs. One of the cheaper and more common poisons someone could find in Albion, despite being powerful enough to easily kill a human. Cheaper poisons are less subtle, and Lupus Tyrannus tastes like almonds when a proper poison should have no taste, at all.” Darrah blinked, a hand drifting towards her stomach. She stared off into space as she said “Wait...Something’s happening...”
Darrah appeared to be holding her breath as she quickly began to descend, getting down to sit on the ground. “Darrah?” Brute worriedly said, watching her weakening expression. Bianca knelt by Darrah, placing a hand over Darrah’s right pauldron. Gently, she said “Darrah, please listen to me. You’re going to be fine, the poison won’t be able to kill you with the antidote inside your body. But while the antidote is fighting the poison, you may fall asleep for a bit.” Alexander, Craig, and Timoteo all looked heavily concerned. Darrah’s eyes filled with fright. “I...” She weakly mumbled, her eyelids fluttering. She swayed a little before quickly falling backwards, Bianca responding quickly, managing to keep Darrah from banging her head against the ground. “Darrah!” Alexander worriedly said, dropping to a knee beside his youngest child. Bianca put a hand over Darrah’s breastplate, looking down into her face as Darrah lost consciousness.
“I will care for her while she’s fighting the poison...I couldn’t stop her from eating some of the meat, in time.” Bianca mumbled, her eyes half-closed with guilt. “It’s not your fault...” Timoteo said, casting an angry look towards the platter nearby, the promise of a delicious meal corrupted by the presence of the vile poison. “Do you think Benedict thought this up?” Brute asked, looking at Craig. “Hard to say. But considering how he used Amanda...” Miller said, trailing off. Timoteo’s expression turned even colder at the mention of the deceased traitor. “From what I heard, Amanda was subtle. A sleeper agent. This wasn’t as elaborate. In fact, I would wager that this was rushed, worried. I would assume a bandit king would’ve been able to afford more effective poisons.” “So, you think this was a last-minute idea?” Alexander asked. Bianca gave a silent nod.
“That guard must’ve been thirty-one flavours of stupid to try something like this and think he’d actually get away with it.” Brute muttered. “What should we do for Darrah?” Timoteo worriedly asked, looking at Bianca. Bianca let out a slow breath, bringing a hand to the side of Darrah’s face, stroking the back of her hand down across her cheek. “She just needs some time...She’ll be unconscious for a few hours, so we should make her comfortable.” Craig glanced at his father, speaking as he turned and left. “I’ll have a private tent set up for her, along with some bedding from my ship.” “Brute, you and I can carry her. She’s gonna weigh a ton with her armour on.” Timoteo said, standing by the larger Hero’s side. Brute gave a nod, readily agreeing.
“Are you sure she’s going to be fine? She’s shaking a little...” Timoteo said, looking over at Bianca. She walked over and sat down on her knees on Darrah’s other side, looking at her with concern. Darrah lay on the ground, wrapped up snugly in bed sheets, undressed down to her underwear. Her armour lay in a pile over a small wooden table to the side of the tent, her sword and shield standing by the table’s side, leaning against it. The tent was as sealed from the outside world as possible, with every inch of the tent’s perimeter weighed down against the ground by rocks, trapping heat inside. The tent flaps had so many buttons to them that virtually no air passed through the opening, allowing some warm air to escape in exchange for fresh air. Bianca had slipped off her cloak, apparently finding it warm enough to do without it. Timoteo, meanwhile, had needed a few minutes in the tent to stop shivering. Bianca reached over to Darrah’s face, touching the back of her hand to Darrah’s forehead.
“I believe she will be fine...She took the antidote very quickly after the poison entered her body. Lupus Tyrannus works quickly, but it couldn’t have been inside her for more than twenty seconds...” Timoteo sighed lightly, shaking his head subtly. “Another damn traitor.” He muttered, sounding both angry and disappointed. Bianca looked over to him. A flicker crossed his eyes, turning them dark. “We should drown the bastard in the ocean when we find him.” Timoteo coldly added. Bianca’s eyes drifted downwards at his tone. “We could tie weights around him and let him sink.” Timoteo said, curling his lip up a little in rising anger. “Tim...” Bianca lightly said, looking up to his eyes again. Her voice caught his attention, turning him away from his festering negativity. He met her eyes. Bianca reached over, resting her hand over one of his. “It’s okay...Darrah will be fine. I have some more of the antidote, if she looks worse off...”
Timoteo nodded after a moment, the darkness fleeing from his eyes. “Until then, I should make some of the tea I mentioned to Darrah...I know you’ve been shaking since we arrived. I know there isn’t anything warm around for you to wear. You can have my cloak, if you want it...” Bianca softly suggested, slipping her hand into his, holding him. Timoteo smiled a little, shaking his head, sounding amused as he warmly said “No, I-I couldn’t. Keep it. I’ll be fine. I’ll give your tea a try.” “Are you sure?” Bianca quietly asked, looking at him with a bit of worry. He nodded. “Once the fighting starts and I’m moving around a lot, I’ll get warmed up. I’ll make do, until then.” He simply said. “Well, okay...But if you change your mind, I’d be fine without my cloak.” “I’m sure. Keep it.” He replied, smiling a little. “Alright...” Bianca murmured, looking back to Darrah. A cold sweat was breaking out over her face, Darrah twitching under the covers of her makeshift bed.
Her eyes darted around under her eyelids, proving that her mind was quite active, despite her state. “She’s a fighter...She’ll pull through.” Bianca lightly said, resting a hand over Darrah’s belly.
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Fable : Fall of the Guild