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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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Slave.
Fable : Fall of the Guild

Part IX - "Hook Coast"

By: Jesse Racine AKA Samson

Original Date Written: November 24, 2012

“Tim, c’mon, get up.” Darrah’s voice cut into his fog of sleep, interrupting his dream, rousing him. He mumbled incoherently, trying to dismiss her. She persisted, however, not willing to let him indulge himself with another hour or two of sleep. The fire was crackling, as strong as ever. The white noise of the howling blizzard, however, had completely subsided, though he was still too tired to feel much elation. Bianca’s soft, gentle voice appeared to urge him, as well. “Grimm’s gone out to make sure there aren’t any Wraiths lurking near the cave...Brute’s still asleep. We could be leaving any minute, now...” Timoteo opened his eyes a little, seeing Bianca’s legs just in front of him, her knees and thighs, more specifically. Sitting on her knees beside him, she was fully dressed, her cloak lying in a little bundle beside her. She was taking a few moments to apply her lipstick, spreading the sparkling black cosmetic across her plump lips.
Timoteo gazed at her for a few seconds, a little smile slowly starting to grow on his face. “...I remembered something, from a dream.” He said. Bianca looked at him with interested curiosity, but before she could ask him about it, Darrah beat her to it. “Yeah? Like what?” She asked from behind him, out of his vision. Timoteo continued to look at Bianca, meeting her eyes from under his pelt blanket. “When I first asked Weaver about you, Bianca, he said your home was called “Marydell”...But it was called Deltram, instead. I wonder if he lied to me?” Bianca smiled a little, putting her lipstick away, slipping it into a pocket inside her cloak. “Marydell was Deltram’s name, a long time ago...They changed it a year or two before I was born. Weaver probably never realized the name had been changed, it could’ve been a genuine mistake.” Timoteo raised his eyebrows, looking off to the side, shrugging without moving his shoulders. “I guess that was the reason, then...I just remembered it in my dream, struck me as odd. Ah, well...”
Darrah, fully dressed as well, knelt down beside Brute, shaking at his shoulders, urging him to wake up. Her expression was rather annoyed as she grabbed at him. “C’mon, you lazy oaf. Wake up, already.” Brute groaned with annoyance. Timoteo grabbed his trunks, pulling them on underneath the pelt blanket. Looking at Bianca, he smiled a little, saying “Are you sore, at all?” Bianca’s eyes widened faintly. Darrah looked over curiously. “Sore? Over what?” She curiously asked. Bianca’s face began to tingle with blush, her visage going a little red from her forehead down to her chin. She tried her best not to let herself get too flushed with colour as she softly responded. “From the climb through the blizzard?...Yes, I’m still a bit sore...It will pass, though. No need to worry.” A tiny smile came to Bianca, the corners of her mouth flickering upwards. “The climb was exhilarating. All I need is another few hours, and then I could most likely do it again, without issues.”
Timoteo suppressed a smile, his cheeks getting a slow burn of blush. “You wanna climb through another blizzard? I’m sorry, Bianca, but that’s just messed up.” Darrah remarked, raising an eyebrow, giving Bianca a look crossed between amusement and disdain. Timoteo pulled his pants under the pelt blanket, beginning to pull them on while still under the covers. He grinned a little, teasingly saying “Oh, I don’t know. Don’t be so quick to judge, Darrah. Don’t you think the blizzard was kind of fun, in some regards?” Darrah raised her chin a little, looking at him with narrow eyes. “Have the two of you taken a complete leave of your senses? The climb through that blizzard was terrible! We could’ve died!” Bianca smiled more, knowingly saying “I thought it was rather fun. Few experiences were as intense.” Darrah’s brow shot downwards, but her utterly confused expression persisted, otherwise. She rapidly glanced back and forth between the two for a few seconds, slowly muttering out “...Why do I get the impression that we’re not talking about the same thing?”
Timoteo and Bianca glanced at each other, the two of them smiling almost to the point of grins. Darrah’s expression turned annoyed, the young Hero assuming the two were playing a joke on her. “Forget it, I’m not talking about this, anymore.” She angrily said, turning back to Brute. Leaning over, she took her annoyance out on him, giving a loud shout into his ear. “Wake up, Brute!” Despite his sleepiness, his own sense of humour appeared intact. He didn’t react to her shout aside from rapidly kicking his legs around under his pelt blanket, almost as if he were running while lying down, taunting her with his silly response. Timoteo broke into laughter, Bianca being more modest, simply smiling to herself. Darrah’s expression only soured more. “...I hate you guys.” She sulkily muttered out, crossing her arms over her chest.
Grimm had returned to the cave by the time the group was ready to move out. They had all collected their gear, gotten dressed, and readied themselves to head out on to the snowy mountain once again. He stepped into his chamber through the cave passage, dressed in his dark armour with his cloak sitting on his shoulders, draped around him. Slung over his shoulder was his rifle, the barrel pointing up towards the ceiling, the leather strap around him keeping it securely in place. “Good, you’re ready. We need to move. I didn’t see a camp at the base of the mountain, so they might have gone back to the shore...Hard to imagine they would’ve pressed on through the blizzard, at the very least. Before we go out, though, you should wear some extra cloaks I’ve made. Trust me, it helps conserve heat.” Timoteo and Brute glanced at each other, shrugging. Grimm walked over to his pelt bed, grabbing at a small pile of pure white pelts sitting nearby.
Lifting the pelts up revealed that they had hoods, shaped for wrapping around a human’s body. He came over with three, handing one to Timoteo, Brute, and Darrah. Darrah felt surprised, given that she hadn’t asked for a cloak, but was thankful nonetheless when she remembered how cold the trip to the mountain had been. The three of them wrapped the cloaks around themselves, pulling up theirs hoods to protect themselves from any wind out on the mountain. Grimm turned from them then, the group following after him, heading up the cave shaft. Darrah’s armour made light clanging sounds as the metal hit the rock beneath her feet, the elevated heels of Bianca’s boots making faint tapping sounds with every step she took. “What if they’ve already started the attack, and we slept through it all?” Darrah asked, looking over at Grimm. Grimm gave her a pretentious look that suggested he wanted to sigh with irritation, but was suppressing it.
Brute reached over and gave Darrah a hard pat over her back, almost making her stumble forwards, given that the pat had caught her off-guard. “Don’t worry so much, Darrah. You afraid we’re gonna miss out on the glory, or something?” “That’s not it.” Darrah glumly said, giving Brute a bit of a glare. “It’ll be fine, Darrah. We’ll find Alexander and do what we came here to do.” Timoteo reassuringly said, giving Darrah a confident nod. She looked at him, her moody expression lightening. “Yeah, okay.” She calmly said, nodding back at him. When they neared the cave mouth, the four young Heroes were pleased to see that the world outside had returned to normal. No longer were gale-like winds raking the mountainside, or the powdery snow being blasted into their faces like daggers. It was a clear, surprisingly mild day, the time a little before noon, judging by how the sun was just nearing it’s zenith at the top of the cloudless sky.
Grimm glanced around as he stepped out through the cave mouth, making sure that no wild beast had followed him back to the cave during his return. “I think we might as well climb the rest of the mountain, first of all. Even if Alexander didn’t make camp at the summit, if the attack’s started, we’d be able to see it.” Bianca nodded in agreement. “If all’s well, we can descend again and search for the others.” She said. Darrah raised an eyebrow, looking at the two through the eye slits of her great helm. “Or, we could just head down to the beach and see if the camp’s there.” She offered. Brute smiled, nudged Darrah with an elbow, and said “Wouldn’t it be a waste, though, if they had started the attack? We’d miss even more of it!” Darrah threw her arms up in frustration, saying “Fine! Let’s climb the bloody mountain, already! Sheesh!” She marched away from them all, stepping into the snow beside the cave mouth, beginning to trudge her way up the incline in the mountainside.
Bianca stepped closer to Timoteo, looking up to his eyes as she quietly said “Darrah seems a bit vexed, today...You don’t think she’s still angry about our joking earlier, do you?” Timoteo shrugged a little. “She could be.” “Is something troubling your lady friend? I can’t be having her making a lot of noise, she could end up attracting bandit patrols.” Grimm stated, giving Timoteo a cool look. Brute waved a hand at Grimm, speaking with a carelessly loud volume, saying “Don’t worry about it, she’s always been like that. I thought she had been getting better, but I guess Darrah is still the same old ice queen.” “I heard that!” Darrah suddenly shouted, her angry voice echoing out down the mountainside, coming from above the cave mouth. Grimm gave Timoteo a more annoyed look. Timoteo sighed inwardly and quietly said “Alright, I’ll see what’s wrong. Just don’t come after us really quickly, she’ll talk more easily if she feels like we’re alone.”
Grimm crossed his arms over his chest, saying “You’ve got two minutes. We don’t want to lose you in the snow.” Timoteo nodded, glancing at Bianca before walking out of the cave mouth. He followed Darrah’s big footsteps in the snow, seeing her not far ahead of the rest of them, having only climbed a few dozen feet up above the cave mouth. He made his way through the snow, his feet sinking through the powdery layer, finding support in the thick, wet snow just beneath. He climbed after Darrah until he was just a few feet behind her, hearing her muttering to herself as she slowly continued to climb, one foot at a time. “...Stupid bastard, calling me an “ice queen”...I’ll show him an ice queen...”
“Darrah, stop climbing. Wait a minute.” Timoteo simply said, sighing a little. Darrah complied, turning around, looking down at him. “What?” She snapped out. Timoteo climbed until he was beside her, the snow reaching up past his ankles, the bottom edges of his pelt cloak lined with powdery snow. “What’s bothering you?” He asked, getting straight to the point. Darrah looked off to the side. “Nothing.” She merely said, her tone flat. “Darrah.” He firmly said, raising an eyebrow, giving her a look. “You should know better than to give me that excuse. I know when something’s bugging you.” He added, shaking his head a little. Darrah defiantly crossed her arms over her chest, still not looking at him. He wasn’t put off by her frosty body language. He smiled a little, trying to disarm her with his next statement. “I wish you didn’t have your helmet on, right now. That way I could see your face. You’re easier to read, that way.”
Darrah barely looked in his direction. She didn’t say or do anything for a few seconds, but she eventually reached up with both arms, pulling off her great helm. Her expression was dark, but not precisely with anger. Timoteo could tell that Grimm had been correct; something was troubling Darrah, something was causing her turmoil, and it couldn’t have been something someone else had said or done. At the very least, by removing her helmet, Timoteo felt she was offering him the chance to better read her. She held her helmet under one hand as she leaned closer to him, muttering under her breath. “Look, it’s not about you, it’s not about Bianca, Brute, Grimm, Benedict, my father, it’s not about anybody. It’s about me, okay? Let’s just leave it at that and move on.” “What do you mean?” Timoteo asked with curiosity, narrowing his eyes a little, turning his head a bit to the side. Darrah glared at him, opened her mouth to speak, stopping herself just before she got a word out.
She sighed through her nose, her expression relaxing as she took better control of herself. Still speaking under her breath, she quietly said “Do I have to spell it out for you, Tim? It’s my problem, alright? Just leave it alone, it’ll pass on it’s own.” Timoteo continued to look at her with complete bafflement on his face, the mage trying to figure out what she was hinting at. Darrah sighed again, her expression relaxing entirely, the Hero of Strength clearly trying not to take out her aggression on him. She brought her great helm back up, pulling it on, again. Her voice a little muffled by her helmet, she said “I know you’re just trying to help, but trust me. Gimme some time, and I’ll be fine, again. I’m not mad at anything you’ve done, alright? It’s not your fault.” Timoteo looked at her unsurely and slowly said “Okay...If you need anything, though, I’m here for you.”
“I know, thank you. Right now, though, I just want to find my father.” She answered, agreeably enough. He nodded in understanding. He turned back towards the cave, raising a hand to the side of his face, partially cupping his mouth. “Guys, come on! Everything’s fine!” The other three stepped out into the open, ascending after them, climbing through the snow. “What are you, anyway? Their mediator?” Darrah asked, raising an eyebrow. Timoteo looked at her with a friendly smile, teasingly saying “Well, I think it’s safe to say that, out of the four of us, I’m the closest to you. It only made sense for me to try and talk to you.” Darrah didn’t dispute his claim, simply staying silent as the two awaited the rest of their group.
“Benedict, the first of the patrols have reported back. No sign of them anywhere. No scouts, no camps...Nothing.” Standing in the doorway to Benedict’s personal chambers was the same tall, bearded bandit that had met with Alexander’s traitorous guard, the one who had attempted to poison him along with the Heroes serving him. He knew Benedict was somewhere in the room, but because of the darkness Benedict kept his chambers at, the bandit had no idea where his leader was, precisely. Benedict revealed his location when he spoke, his voice coming from the direction of his bed. “Interesting...Tell me, Davy, are their ships still by the coast?” “I believe so, Benedict.” “Find out. If they still are, burn half of them and steal the rest. Dock them at the Hole.” Knowingly, Benedict added “A nice gift, don’t you think? We really must thank Alexander, some time, for providing us with such excellent crafts.” Davy smiled a little, his beard shifting a little as his facial muscles twisted.
“Yes, I think a nice way to show our appreciation would be to hang him by his feet, over the side of the fortress. I bet he’d love a few nights out in the cold.” Benedict quietly chuckled, amused by Davy’s sadistic humour. Davy stepped back, shut the door to Benedict’s chambers, and walked off. Benedict, sitting in the shadows on the edge of his bed, turned back to the woman lying over his bed. The darkness kept them from laying eyes on each other, something she had never gotten used to. It was maddening for her to be deprived of her sense of sight, but it very often proved to be a blessing, at times. Sometimes it was better not to be able to see the things he would do to her, sometimes it was easier not having to worry about being intimidated by the sight of something. He reached over, grabbing her face, holding her roughly by her jaw. The chains at her wrists and ankles rattled as she instinctively recoiled, something he gave her a shake over.
She knew better than to flinch, he had trained her long enough that the response should’ve been worked out of her system. “It seems the ghost in the mountains is still on the prowl...And now he has allies.” Benedict calmly said. Beginning to squeeze, Benedict put more and more pressure on her lower jaw, as if he was trying to crush her in his grip. She made not a sound. Whimpering brought disastrous consequences, she knew that all too well. “That man has been such a thorn in my side that I can’t even make up my mind as to what I’ll do with his corpse. I’d desecrate his carcass twenty times over, if I could.” He released her face, but she felt no relief. They both knew he’d only hurt her in another spot. He brought his hand down to her bare stomach, pressing down over the scarred flesh. He started to press downwards, using more and more strength until he was almost putting his entire body weight over her stomach.
She started to lose her ability to breathe, pain flooding her. He continued for several seconds in his attempt to crush her organs, feeling her endure, feeling her suffer. Eventually, though, her feet twitched in pain, rattling her chains. He stopped putting pressure over her stomach. “I don’t want to have to bring out the rope and torch, again.” He calmly said. Tears immediately ran into her eyes, trickling down her cheeks. Her chin trembling, she squeaked out “No, I...I don’t want th-that, either...” “Wonderful. I’m going to be leaving for a few hours, Anastasia. Will you behave if I leave you alone?” “I promise, lord Benedict!...” She eagerly whispered out, resisting her need to sniffle, unfortunately allowing some fluid to run from her nostrils. He patted the side of her face, touching her cheek in a deceptively affectionate manner. “Good. I’ll let you eat when I return.” He said, standing up from the side of the bed...
With the blizzard having passed, the climb up the mountain had once again become arduous, though not life-threatening. They didn’t run into any Wraiths or snowy balverines, which Timoteo supposed may have been because the group was hard to spot; aside from Grimm and Bianca, the group was wearing cloaks that blended in with the snow, surely leaving them fairly difficult to notice from a distance. Avoiding patches of pure, unscaleable ice, finding climbable pathways here and there, the group neared the summit after several exhausting hours...
Darrah grunted lightly as she pulled herself up on to the ledge. They had just gotten to the summit of the mountain, Darrah the first to enjoy the accomplishment. Their path up the final stretch of mountain had ultimately led them to a narrow crack in the mountainside, filled with boulders of ice. The walls on either side of the crack were pure ice, having long ago fused the boulders into themselves, forming a web of ancient ice through the valley-like formation. Thankfully, this meant that the group was in no realistic danger of making the boulders break free, thus preventing a deadly rampage of giant ice spheres down the mountainside. On the other hand, however, this meant that their progress up the final stretch had been agonizingly slow. With so many boulders taking up so much space, the group had no choice but to climb over boulder after boulder, slowly crossing the ice crevice towards the summit proper. At the end of the crack, a single boulder was lodged between the two walls of the crack.
Just a meter or so above the top of the boulder, the crack came to an end, making a sort of shelf just above the boulder. Darrah, on a knee on top of that shelf, looked back to the others with a smile. The summit, finally! She couldn’t wait to see Timoteo’s reaction when he had gotten to the top, himself. She stood up, faced forwards again, and took in a deep breath of the cold, thin air. The summit wasn’t exactly like the tip of a triangle, contrary to Darrah’s imagination. It was like a wide, flat bluff of snow, with the other edge of the mountaintop perhaps a quarter of a kilometer ahead of her. It had been a cold, tiring journey, but they had made it to the top; for a second or two, Darrah had forgotten all about Benedict and his bandits, simply pleased with herself for accomplishing the feat of scaling a mountain. The others weren’t far behind. Timoteo helped Bianca climb the boulders by pushing against her bottom.
Obviously, this caused her a fair deal of discomfort, given how she was still sore from their romp the night before. There was no other easy way to assist her, however, so she merely bit her tongue, coping with the pain in silence. Timoteo would apologize every time he helped her up a boulder, knowing he was only hurting her by putting pressure over her behind. Grimm and Brute, however, were completely clueless about Bianca’s sore tush, the two ending up giving each other peculiar glances every time Timoteo apologized to her. Darrah’s eyes widened as she suddenly spotted a dark figure move in the snow, the Hero quickly ducking down, getting on a knee, again. It was a bandit, no question about it. A second later, she saw that he wasn’t alone, either. They were moving in a single-file formation, one walking along behind the other, more and more of them piling into her field of vision. They were dressed in a combination of leather armour and white pelt cloaks, the pelts wrapped tight around them to keep them warm.
The leader of the patrol had a rifle shouldered on his left side, while the rest of the bandits appeared to be armed with steel pickhammers. They hadn’t noticed her, yet, which was quite fortunate for Darrah. The others still needed time to get up on the summit, and she didn’t think she could handle so many bandits on her own. With every new bandit she saw, she grew a bit more nervous, the bandit patrol finally being in full view by the time the seventeenth bandit had walked out into the open. As Bianca got on top of the ice boulder she had been climbing with Timoteo’s help, she looked up at Darrah. She wondered why it appeared as if Darrah was trying to hide from something. Surely she would be enjoying the view a bit more by standing up, or at least calling back to the others about how magnificent the top of the mountain was. Her eyes shifted to the side as something else appeared, dark against the white snow. Off to the side, on a slight hill in the peak overlooking the crevice, a figure had crawled up just enough to peek out at Darrah.
Bianca’s weak eyes made it impossible for her to discern whether it was a bandit or one of Alexander’s men, but Darrah’s suspicious behaviour made Bianca believe it was the former of the two possibilites. A long, black object stuck out from the figure. Bianca took in a faint breath, almost gasping before she simply sprang into action. She reached into her cloak and cast Assassin’s Rush. In the blink of an eye, she had vanished, a blur spreading out on the air towards the dark figure. She reappeared over the figure, her boots planted in the snow on either side of his waist. Now that she was close enough, she could tell he had to have been a bandit. If nothing else, his rancid body odour gave it away. She pulled out her firearm, pointed it down towards the back of his neck, and readied the flintlock mechanism with her thumb. The bandit had barely glanced above himself when Bianca squeezed the trigger, swiftly dealing the man a fatal blow.
Everyone in the vicinity, from the bandits all the way to Grimm, glanced over in surprise. Bianca was quick to replace her firearm, slipping it back into her cloak. Just as the bandits spotted Darrah, Bianca kicked over the bandit’s corpse, grabbing the rifle he had very almost fired on Darrah with. Timoteo, Brute, and Grimm all knew they’d have a tough time getting to their two allies in order to aid them. Timoteo was led to finding a creative way to get to his friends. He started running off to the side, approaching a boulder near the wall of the crevice. He held on to his cloak with both hands, knowing he’d surely lose it if he didn’t make an effort to maintain it’s presence around his shoulders. At the last second before reaching the ice boulder, he cast Battle Charge, blazing forwards in the blink of an eye, a streak of orange light left on the air behind him. He jumped up, his feet hitting the boulder hard enough to send cracks along the surface of the ice formation.
The sheer speed of his approach allowed him to defy gravity, to a certain degree. He ran a few steps up along the boulder, running at an angle. When he neared the top of the boulder, he kicked off, jumping forwards. His Battle Charge persisted momentarily, allowing him to soar up towards the edge of the crevice. When his spell ended, he was still moving quite quickly, the mage slamming into the edge of the crevice. He was quite high up; a fall, especially an awkward one down on the boulder below, most likely would’ve been disabling, if not fatal. Luckily for him, he got his arms over the crevice before gravity yanked on him again, his concern for his allies giving him strength enough to roughly pull himself over and on to the peak. Brute and Grimm glanced at each other, surprised over Timoteo’s desperate, though surprisingly successful, manoeuver.
Bianca aimed for the bandit at the front of the patrol, not realizing he had a rifle as well, simply aiming for the nearest, most visible bandit. She wasn’t prepared for the kickback of the rifle, wincing when it slammed back against her shoulder. She missed the bandit, although narrowly. The slug flew over his shoulder, grazing the neck of the bandit behind him, nicking the side of the man’s throat. Blood spurted from the second bandit’s neck, the stunned bandit raising a hand to the side of his neck as he stumbled about in pain. “It’s the Heroes! Kill ‘em!” The patrol leader shouted, unshouldering his rifle in a flash, ignoring his fatally wounded comrade. Angry over Bianca’s attempted attack, he took advantage of her momentary stun from the rifle’s kickback. He aimed for a split-second, cocked the rifle’s mechanism, and fired. Bianca stumbled backwards when the slug hit her in the center of her chest, tearing through her shirt.
Timoteo’s eyes widened. Bianca dropped the rifle, collapsing to her knees. She tried to breathe, gurgling sounds coming from her as she weakly inhaled. Timoteo sprinted over as Darrah moved in to engage the bandits. Brute and Grimm quickly came up with a creative answer to their problem. Brute would link his hands together, giving Grimm an opportunity to step on his hands. Brute would pull up and catapult Grimm up on to a boulder, allowing Grimm to easily pull Brute up. The two would need a few dozen seconds to join the others, but at least they were making relatively quick progress. When Timoteo reached Bianca, he fell to a knee beside her, slamming into the snow. He brought a hand to her chest, pressing it hard over her wound. He cast Heal Life, a blue glow flooding out from his hand, wrapping around her body like an aura of light. A moment later, it had faded, disintegrating into shimmers of blue.
The wound under his hand had vanished, leaving only a tiny hole in her shirt along with some leaked blood. Bianca quickly thanked him, the two getting back up on their feet. Darrah let her cloak fall from her shoulders as she approached the bandits, unsheathing her sword, raising her shield. She knew she was facing a particularly deadly disadvantage against the bandits, she knew their pickhammers were perfect for bypassing heavy armour, like her own. Regardless, she approached them without fear or hesitation. The closest seven bandits rushed towards her, hoping to swarm the lone Hero, hoping to overwhelm her with superior numbers. The one leading the pack simply found himself charging straight into Darrah’s sword, getting ran through on her blade before even having the chance to take a swing at her. Before they could get on her sides, Darrah swung her shield over to her left, bashing a bandit in the face, stunning him.
A bandit to her right swung for her shoulder, causing Darrah to pull off a flashy Flourish attack. She ducked, dodging the swipe. She twisted her legs around, spinning in the blink of an eye, holding her sword out, her purple cape swinging out behind her. She had decapitated the bandit before he had even realized he had missed her. Timoteo and Bianca ran to assist Darrah, more of the bandits joining in, throwing themselves at the Hero of Strength. Timoteo cast Ghost Sword, an ethereal scimitar appearing at his side, hovering in the air at chest-height. Bianca attempted to even the odds as well, calling upon her powers in necromancy. Her eyes briefly glowed green as she muttered a quiet incantation to herself. She threw her arms out, calling out for her new minions to rise up. Some of the bandits went pale with fear when the snow behind Darrah burst apart, five skeletons jumping up to their feet through the white. Their bones were covered in ice, cackles coming from Bianca’s undead creations.
Each skeleton was armed with a large, rusted axe, the weapons necessitating both hands for effective use. Bianca’s skeletons came up on Darrah’s sides, preventing the bandits from flanking her, the skeletons swinging their axes at the bandits with a fury only the undead could muster up. Darrah raised her shield and blocked a bandit’s pickhammer, his weapon putting a dent over the face of her shield, failing to punch through. While the bandit was distracted, Timoteo’s Ghost Sword rushed under Darrah’s shield, slashing across the bandit’s abdomen, splitting open his stomach. Darrah made sure he was dead, plunging her sword into his chest, her weapon breaking ribs as it went straight through the bandit. Grimm and Brute were just then climbing up from the crevice, the both of them a bit surprised by the sight of Bianca’s small skeleton legion. Timoteo and Bianca stood side-by-side as they started flinging out spells, Timoteo casting Lightning, Bianca casting Blades.
His powerful Lightning spell would chain from one bandit to another, stunning several of them at a time, sometimes knocking them down from their feet with the force of the magic. Bianca’s Blades would typically finish the stunned bandits off if someone else hadn’t done it first, the magic swords impaling them with particularly gory results. Grimm and Brute had joined the fray in time to get the last few bandits. Brute pulled his sizeable weapon from his back as he charged, his feet pounding into the snow like big bricks. He roared like a barbarian as he swung his battleaxe with wide, deadly swings. He hit one of the last bandits directly in the stomach, the man’s spine offering just enough resistance to stop Brute’s weapon from cutting him in two. Brute reacted by simply pulling his battleaxe back, swinging it around and down into the man’s left shoulder, severing his arm with one terrible blow. The man promptly collapsed into the snow.
Grimm drew his black blade, his obsidian sword singing as he swung it around. The final bandit tried to stand his ground against Grimm, but he was no match for the expert Hero. Grimm had only clashed blades with the man for a second or two before he had disarmed him, launching the bandit’s sword right out of his hand. With a flashy twirl of his sword, Grimm had slashed the man’s throat deep enough to expose bone, red gushing from the man’s throat like a small waterfall. The bandit simply crumpled down into the snow, instantly slain. The group glanced around, making sure they had gotten the last of the bandits. Only when they were sure that they were alone again did they relax enough to let their guards down.
Bianca released her skeletal minions, letting them each collapse into piles of bones over the snow. Timoteo’s Ghost Sword faded, released from servitude, as well. “Just a patrol, nothing serious. Benedict will know about this group disappearing, however. He’ll assume it’s because of me, I’ve gotten rid of enough of the patrols he’s sent searching for me, by now, that I doubt he can believe his patrols go missing for any other reason.” Grimm stated, looking around at the many corpses. Darrah walked over to her discarded cloak, picking it up and smacking at it a few times with one hand, knocking loose any snow that clung to the white fur. As she pulled it back on, she looked over to Grimm, saying “Think we could see the fortress from this high up?” Grimm gave a nod, looking at Timoteo and Bianca as they quickly walked over to the other three. “We could. We’d likely be able to notice if your father’s men are already attacking, as well. If all’s calm, we’ll know Alexander had to have postponed his assault.”
Brute kicked at one of the bandit corpses, a sizeable hole going straight through the bandit’s chest, thanks to a casting of Blades by Bianca. “What a bummer. We missed the whole thing!” He complained, sighing a little afterwards. “That’s probably for the best. Pickhammers are dangerous, even for me, and you’re not even wearing armour, Brute. They could’ve ripped you to shreds with just one hit.” Darrah flatly stated, giving Brute a bit of an unimpressed look. He smiled a little, looking over at her with a competitive gleam in his eyes. “You think so, huh?” He snorted out. “I know so.” Darrah responded, raising an eyebrow faintly. Brute made a “pfft” sound, dismissing her with a wave of his hand. Darrah looked over to Timoteo and Bianca, her eyes switching from one to the other every few seconds. “Thanks...I would’ve been pretty badly outnumbered, if not for you two.” She thanked them with a serious expression, her aloof demeanor at odds with her genuinely grateful tone of voice.
“Don’t mention it.” Timoteo merely said, smiling a little at her. Bianca gave a little nod, smiling faintly. Darrah continued to look at them for a second or two, a noticeable smile creeping up on her face. “Let’s check out the fortress, already...” She said, beginning to walk across the summit, heading in the direction of the wall-like mountain’s other side. The others followed her, leaving the corpses of the bandits where they lay. When they reached the other edge of the summit, they were each taken back by the view, aside from Grimm. There were no clouds to impede their vision, letting them see everything in glorious detail. The mountain range went on for miles to their left and right, going around in a bit of a curve, heading towards the south on the island. The mountains to their right were tall with very little inclines to be seen; the mountains were almost literal walls, with straight drops over the edge of every rock shelf and icy cliff.
To their left, the mountains appeared to be more forgiving, having long, rolling slopes. The mountains were in large clusters to the south, spreading out over a fair bit of the island, making the horizon seem very rough, jagged. The port town of Hook Coast, itself, was invisible to them, almost certainly because of the mountain range. Spread out before them, down between the walls of stone and ice, a small vale stretched on, filled with miniature mountains of snow, populated by tall, stout trees. The vale only appeared to be a kilometer or two long in any direction, making it appear even smaller to the group, given their high position. The only entrance to the vale was on the direct opposite side from the group, far from their position on the vale’s southern side. The vale seemed quite peaceful, almost serene. It was a beautiful sight to see the island stretched out before them, reaching out for as far as they could see, the tiny vale cradled protectively in the mountains like a child in their mother’s womb.
As each of them looked into the vale, their eyes eventually settled over the one blemish they could find: Benedict’s fortress. Sitting down near the base of the northern mountainous wall, a little to the west of their position, the fortress had the honour, or perhaps shame, of being the one thing disturbing the peace of the vale. It sat almost in one of the corners of the vale, nestled up against the western mountains, it’s rear close to the northern mountains. The fortress, made from slate gray stone, sat like a grumpy little cube in the snow, conjuring up images of a pouting infant. Aside from the shape and colour, though, the group was too far up to see anything else. A long path stretched through the vale, leading away from the fortress, heading for the vale’s single proper exit. At fairly regular intervals of close to a single kilometer, small outposts could be seen on the path, clusters of wooden cabins strewn out around the path.
For a fair stretch of the pathway just in front of the fortress, dozens of pits could be seen, riddling the road of flattened snow. The pits were each large enough to swallow a carriage, horses and all, making the approach of an opposing force a dangerous proposition. Darrah stared at the fortress for several seconds, trying to hear the sounds of combat, the orchestra of sword clashing against sword. She heard not a thing, not a sound, no whisper carried to her on the chilly, still air. Visually, the fortress appeared at ease. She couldn’t see people rushing around the exterior, there was no big, black mass of bandits out in the snow, preparing for an attack. “...Looks calm enough.” Darrah commented, in a bit of a mutter. “So, I was right. The attack hasn’t taken place, yet.” Grimm merely said, nodding slightly.
“The only question is, did they make camp at the coast, or somewhere else?” Timoteo contemplated, thoughtfully bringing a hand over his chin and mouth. “I would suspect that they’d make camp as soon as possible, once the blizzard had started...The majority of Alexander’s men had very little to protect them from the cold, all they had was their armour and clothing. If that wasn’t enough for Darrah, I doubt it would be enough for people who aren’t Heroes.” Bianca softly said, looking at the others. Grimm nodded twice in agreement. “They’ve had a few hours since the blizzard ended, perhaps an hour or two longer than us. That could’ve been enough time for them to resume their ascent. We-”
“Hold it!” A man suddenly shouted out, coming from behind them. Timoteo had been a split-second away from twisting around and launching a spell when a second voice had spoken. “Wait, that’s lady Darrah! Don’t shoot!” The group stood up and turned around, all of them looking over with curiosity. Standing several feet away, about eight of Alexander’s men were grouped together, each dressed in leather armour and fur coats. One of them held a rifle, looking like the same one the leader of the bandit patrol had used to harm Bianca. At the realization that the group had found the missing Heroes, as well as the lord’s daughter, he promptly lowered his weapon, the man relieved that he hadn’t been a little more hasty with his trigger. “Finally, we found you! Your father was worried sick about you, my lady. It was like Skorm, himself, was throwing snow at us, with that blizzard.” Darrah smiled a little, beginning to approach her father’s men.
“Tell me about it. How did you find us, anyway? How’s the progress coming with the rest of my father’s men?” Timoteo and the others began to walk over, as well, as the leader of the scouting party shouldered his rifle and said “We heard the gunshots and came looking. We figured that, at the very least, it was some of Benedict’s men we could take care of. When we found them all dead, we followed your footprints here. As for the others, they should almost be at the summit, by now. They’re about half a kilometer to the west, from here. Come hell or high water, the attack’s happening, today.” Brute smiled a little. “Good, I was hoping to have a real chance at spilling some bandit blood.” Grimm glanced at Darrah, briefly getting her attention. Darrah understood what was on his mind. Looking at the scouts, she calmly said “Quick, take us to my father. I have someone he should meet. He’ll be a big asset to us in the battle, I’m sure.” The lead scout nodded, already turning and beginning to walk off as he said “Of course. This way, it shouldn’t take us long to reach the others...”
“Darrah, Timoteo! You’re alright!” Alexander exclaimed, smiling widely. Darrah smiled pleasantly, walking towards her father a bit quicker. His men were spread out over the summit, close to the northern edge. They had already been preparing their tents when the Heroes reunited with the fighting force. Wesley and Miller were busy overseeing their respective parts of Alexander’s forces, with Wesley ordering for rations to be circulated, Miller coordinating with his scouts and preparing them for their treks to the mountain ranges on either side of Benedict’s fortress. Craig grinned a little when he saw the Heroes, pleased to see his sister had found a way to survive the inexorable blizzard. Alexander hugged his daughter when he reached her. Even with her suit of platemail, Alexander was impressively larger than her, the man making his daughter look like a mere child by comparison. Craig walked over to Timoteo and offered his hand, saying “Thanks, I get the feeling you were looking out for her.”
Timoteo smiled with amusement and shook Craig’s hand. Craig held back a chuckle at the look of mirth Timoteo had, adding “I know, I know. She can look after herself. I’m just relieved you’re all okay. We lost a man, here and there, to the cold.” “Things were looking dire, but Grimm gave us shelter.” Bianca said, glancing at the Hero nearby. As Alexander and Darrah released each other, Darrah looked over to Grimm, saying “She’s right, Grimm helped us before we were in too much danger. Daddy, this is Grimm, he’s another Hero. He has a score to settle with Benedict, from the sounds of things. He wants to help us.” Alexander approached Grimm, one hand outstretched. “I won’t turn away help. My name’s Alexander, my men and I hail from the mainland.” Grimm shook Alexander’s hand, calmly saying “Call me Grimm. Your daughter didn’t quite capture it, correctly. It’s more than a simple grudge. I have a vendetta against Benedict, one that has lasted for many months, now. If you seek Benedict’s downfall, you can count me as an ally.”
“Excellent. We were going to wait a few hours for nightfall before striking. As it is, they’d see us coming the moment we began our descent, they’d be able to prepare far too much in advance.” Grimm gave a nod, looking past Alexander, watching his men set up their tents, the guards and knights wanting a reprieve from the cold as they waited for the order to move on the fortress. “How many men do you have for the attack?” He asked. Alexander looked over at his men, stretched out across the summit. “Several hundred strong. The blizzard gave them a chill, but they shook it off. Morale is strong, and their determination is high. If I were Benedict, I’d be worried.” Grimm smirked a little with amusement. “I hear you have an explosive?” He asked, looking back to Alexander. Alexander nodded, reaching a hand up, feeling at his beard. He looked to the south, in the direction of the vale. “Yes...In case Benedict shuts the gates to his fortress, the explosive will open them back up. He’s not locking us out.”
“Good. That kind of ace in the hole could mean the difference between victory and defeat.” Grimm stated, nodding momentarily. Looking back to Alexander, he politely said “If there’s a few hours remaining until the attack, I’d like to get better acquainted with your men, see what weapons and armour they’re equipped with, things like that. I’m sure you understand.” “Of course, of course. Go right ahead.” Alexander agreeably said. Grimm gave a nod and walked past him, heading towards the summit encampment. Darrah walked over to Timoteo, sighing subtly, her eyes annoyed. “Great, so we’re going to have to wait a few more hours before we get the attack started. Doing it when the sun’s set makes sense, but I’m tired of waiting.” Her brow a little furrowed, her eyes down on the snow, she sounded rather bothered as she said “What in Avo’s name am I supposed to do to kill that much time?” Timoteo smiled a little, chuckling to himself, a private joke running through his mind.
“It’s not that bad. We’ll think of something. First off, though, we should get some food. Don’t want to go into this thing without our strength, right?...”
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Fable : Fall of the Guild