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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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Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Growing Affection.
Fable : Fall of the Guild

Part II - "Quest Cards"

By: Jesse Racine AKA Samson

Original Date Written: April 16, 2011

Darrah led Timoteo along the path away from the Guild, the two walking along in relative silence. She guided him down along the path towards Greatwood, but before they actually began to enter the forest, she suddenly took him on a path towards the right. "I guess this leads to the picnic area?" He asked. Darrah said "Yeah. I used to go here as a little kid...Have picnics with my mom and dad every Sunday." Timoteo was quiet for a moment before asking "...Plan on seeing them any time soon?" Darrah raised an eyebrow, looking over to him. "Who? My parents?" She asked. He nodded. Darrah looked forwards, going quiet for a few seconds. Eventually, she asked "...Plan on seeing your's any time soon?" Timoteo looked downwards just as the two walked through a small wooden gate, entering a lightly wooded path, trees spread out on either side of the path spaciously. "...To tell you the truth, I don't know if the trip would be worth my time. They never came to see me since I've been at the Guild, and it's been eight years since I saw them last...I'm a different person now...I don't know, I just think it might be weird."
Darrah was silent for several seconds before saying "...I see...I'm sorry." Timoteo didn't know what to say in return, so he simply kept his silence. The two walked along the dirt path for around ten minutes before they noticed the path begin to go slightly downhill, as well as take a leftward curve. Darrah stopped then, looking over to Timoteo, raising a hand and holding it out in front of his chest to stop him from proceeding. "Okay, wait. Let's come up with a plan, I mean, after all, you're right...The Quest Card didn't specify how many bandits there were, or even how well-equipped they were. We need to think for a minute." Timoteo crossed his arms over his chest, saying "I'm listening, if you've got any ideas." Darrah pulled her steel longsword from her bag, holding it in her right hand. "Okay, well..." She was silent for a moment, her face going ponderous. "...I guess you could cast your shield spell, and..." She fell quiet again.
Timoteo raised an eyebrow, staring at her quietly. She noticed him staring at her, the girl getting a little embarrassed as she said "...Cast some spells, and whatnot..." Timoteo smiled a little, saying "So, just do whatever? Awesome plan, Darrah." Darrah blushed with embarrassment, her voice going a little indignant as she said "Well, I don't see you coming up with any ideas!" Timoteo smiled darkly. Darrah stared hard into his eyes. After a few more seconds, Timoteo simply said "C'mon, let's go, already. We're wasting time by just standing here." He began to walk down the path some more, Darrah following after him. "...Make sure you use any of your potions, if you have to." Darrah said lightly as the two went around the curve in the path, the path going farther into another curve towards the right. Timoteo glanced at her, raising an eyebrow, no smile coming to him as he said "Worried about me? I'll be fine. Unless there's, like, a dozen and they surround me, I think I'll be fine."
Darrah was quiet for a second before she nonchalantly said "...Look out for me and I'll look out for you. I'll make sure nobody rams a sword in your back." Timoteo looked over to her. His first impulse had been to ask her if she was really worried about the fight ahead, but he decided a moment after to hold his tongue. He smiled at her, nodding lightly before looking ahead once more. The path took one final curve, the curve going to the left. By then, the downwards slope had eased up, the two being on flat ground once more. As they went around the curve in the path, they saw the trees open up into a clearing, the clearing quite large and only ending at the edge of a cliff. There was a row of chains in a sort of fence to help people realize that the picnic area was actually on the edge of a high cliff, to try and keep people a safe distance from the edge.
There were several wooden tables around, the tables all having wooden benches attached to them. In the middle of the picnic area, there was a small monolith of some kind, looking like a monument. At several of the picnic tables, there were people lying on them, obviously bandits and seemingly passed out. At one or two of the tables though, there sat waking bandits, each of them eating some food. Darrah quickly counted up how many bandits there were, counting up twelve. "Only a dozen. We can handle them, six each." Darrah said confidently. Timoteo glanced along the bandits, none of them seeming to notice the Heroes as they walked on the path. "Alright, then. Let's get rid of them." Timoteo said, the two striding into the clearing.
As they walked into the clearing, approaching the plain brown picnic tables, all of the awake bandits quickly noticed them. "Wake up, lads!" One of them said loudly, the awake bandits quickly jumping up from their tables. Timoteo and Darrah glanced at one another. Rather rapidly, the twelve bandits were all up and about, approaching the two fledgling Heroes in a big group. "I don't know who you two are, but you'd best just scram before things turn ugly." The bandit at the front of the group said, the two groups still approaching one another. They stopped marching towards one another while there was still several meters of distance between them, the two groups within speaking distance. Darrah and Tim both quickly sized up the bandits. They were all dressed in leather armour, the group looking like it was more wealthy than the smaller group the two had fought the day before, in Greatwood. Seven of them had plain iron longswords, but the eighth had a steel longsword, like Darrah's own.
The ninth had an iron axe, and the tenth had a steel mace. The eleventh had a steel cleaver, a blade that was just a bit shorter than a longsword as well as quite a bit thicker, giving the brutal weapon the power of an axe while still retaining the long edge of a sword. The twelfth and final bandit was armed with an oak longbow, a quiver slung over his back, the man being the only bandit with any sort of ranged weapon. Eight of the bandits were men, while the other four were women. They all looked dirty as if they hadn't bathed in quite a while, and several of them bore large tattoos that showed against any bit of flesh visible beneath their leather suits. They seemed to almost be wearing uniforms; their leather outfits were all very similar, if not the same. Their armour suits were made up of a brown jacket, a thick padded cuirass of sorts underneath the jacket. They wore regular pants with colours and materials varying among them all, but they all shared a similar type of boot, their boots all big and thick and looking quite perfect for stomping on anyone unfortunate enough to fall down in the path of the bandits.
Darrah boldly said "We're Heroes, and we're not budging. Get the heck out of here before we send you down to meet Skorm." A few murmurs rose up among the bandits, and after a moment, the man at the front of the group smirked. "Heroes, eh? I don't see any Guild Seals with you, and even if you are Heroes, you're not wearing any armour...And you're using rather crap weaponry. That, and me and my men outnumber you six to one, by my reckoning." The man narrowed his eyes, his smirk turning to a wide and confident smile. He leaned forwards slightly, his voice turning to a bit of a hiss as he said "If you're Heroes, then you must be new Heroes. New Heroes aren't any match for a squad of Benedict's soldiers." Timoteo raised an eyebrow. "Soldiers? Are you in an army?" Darrah shot him a glance, rapidly saying "Hush, Tim!" Looking back to the man at the front of the bandits, she narrowed her eyes, saying "They're not a part of any real army...They're just bandits, practically walking rats, and this "Benedict" fellow must be the biggest rat of them all."
The bandits all seemed annoyed by Darrah's remark, and the ones with shorter fuses were obviously angry, their faces reflecting their emotions like twisted mirrors. "Rats, eh?" The man at the front of the bandit group said. Darrah held up her sword with one hand, confidently saying "If you think you're anything but, then come and show me!" The man at the front of the group glanced left and right, his eyes flashing murderous intent. "C'mon boys, let's just kill 'em and take their loot. Won't be hard." Timoteo sprang into action, then. The first thing he cast was Physical Shield, and then he cast a Fireball out of the both of his hands, striking two different bandits. The bandits burst into flames, screaming in pain, flailing around. The other bandits were visibly shocked, but only for a moment before they simply ignored their dying comrades. They all let out loud war cries before charging towards the two of them. Timoteo quickly summoned his Ghost Sword before jumping back, evading the swing of a bandit's sword.
Caught off-guard by the ghostly blade, one of the bandits allowed an opening to the sword, ending up getting his throat viciously slashed by the ethereal weapon. Timoteo suddenly felt a hard thudding against his chest, an arrow flinging away from him on the air, falling to the ground due to his Physical Shield. The bandit with the bow, seeing that Timoteo wasn't a viable target, turned his attention towards Darrah. Darrah was busy fighting off five bandits when an intense blast of pain suddenly went through her right shoulder, a trembling gasp coming from between her lips. Glancing to her shoulder, she saw that an arrow had stabbed through her clothes and gone rather deeply into her body, a circle of crimson slowly appearing in the fabric of her shirt, spreading out steadily and expanding. Darrah looked up, looking between the heads of several bandits, seeing the bandit with the bow to be staying back, keeping his distance as he notched another arrow on his drawstring.
Rage flooded through Darrah rapidly in reaction to the throbbing pain now running through her. She bashed through the bandits, racing towards the bandit with the bow. He aimed his arrow at her chest, not fleeing from her, prepared to kill her during her charge with a careful arrow aimed at her heart. Timoteo launched a Force Push at the archer at the cost of leaving himself undefended for a moment, bearing the brunt of a bandit's sword, taking a slash down across his chest at a diagonal angle. His Physical Shield stood strong, but still, the young mage was growing angry. He jumped back and evaded the attacks of several bandits, planning on casting Enflame to kill all of the bandits close to him. His Force Push had saved Darrah from having to take another arrow, his attack causing the archer to stumble long enough for Darrah to reach him. Darrah was too angry to realize that she was being chased by the bandits she had been fighting before she was hit by the arrow, and so didn't realize that there were multiple pursuers hot on her tail.
When she reached the archer, she wasted no time, quickly plunging her blade into the bandit's chest. Her sword partially stabbed through the man, easily penetrating his leather cuirass. Pulling her sword from the mortally wounded bandit, she turned around, facing the bandits that had been chasing her. Before she could even react and raise her sword, the lead bandit ran her through on his blade, impaling his sword all the way through her stomach. Darrah's eyes went wide, but the pain shattering her mind left her too stunned to make a sound. The bandit smirked and pulled his blade from her, raising his free hand to her chest, giving her a violent shove and sending her down to the ground, on her back. Timoteo glanced over to see how Darrah was doing just as his Ghost Sword faded, the young mage seeing his fallen companion. The bandits that had chased and subsequently attacked Darrah turned their attention to Timoteo, quickly walking over in his direction. Although Darrah wasn't dead just yet, she was close to it, and with every second that passed, she came closer and closer to death's door. She felt too weak to get to the potions in her backpack, however, and so felt trapped, staring to the sky quietly. Timoteo didn't know that Darrah wasn't dead, however, and assumed the worst. He reacted violently.
Based purely on the emotions he felt, he cast a spell he didn't even know existed, a spell affectionately named "Berserk". Timoteo let out a loud shout, his eyes going wide, his head hanging back. As he shouted, he underwent a massive physical change. Rapidly, he grew several feet taller, his muscles suddenly bursting into a higher state of development, Timoteo suddenly becoming a tall and buff behemoth. His skin turned bright red, and his eyes became entirely black, a red aura faintly developing around his body. As he grew, his voice rapidly grew much deeper, his shout growing several octaves deeper as he underwent his change. His clothes changed with him, growing with him, leaving them unaffected to his mammoth change. His backpack of supplies, however, fell from his back, as the straps that went around his arms had utterly snapped. His Physical Shield disappeared when he cast Berserk, but it didn't matter; Timoteo was in too much of a hulking frenzy to even notice attacks coming his way.
The bandits were shocked, but they quickly got over their surprise. Timoteo couldn't think. He was existing purely on emotions, simply reacting to things, by then. While Berserk was cast, he couldn't be reasoned with, he couldn't be talked to. He could only be stopped by death, which would be no easy task, considering his new size. A bandit swung his cleaver at Timoteo, opening a large gash in his right forearm, blood squirting out. Timoteo didn't react in any way that would suggest he had felt even the slightest bit of pain. He stepped closer to the bandit and grabbed him by the arm, clenching as hard as he could, crushing the bandit's elbow. The bandit screamed in pain, dropping his cleaver. Timoteo grabbed it, his deep pants coming out as the other bandits fell upon him, slashing and hacking at his back, his legs, anything to try and stop him. Raising the cleaver, he swung down and instantly beheaded the bandit he had taken the weapon from, spinning around and launching a fist into another, sending her toppling to the ground.
Darrah's body released it's hold on life, then. The girl gave one final sigh before her eyes clouded over entirely. Timoteo was like a mad demon, and the bandits were growing more and more intimidated by him with every second. Timoteo quickly killed one, then another, then another, eventually leaving only the leader. Timoteo was still as energized as he had been when he cast Berserk, despite his numerous gruesome wounds. The bandit leader, however, was growing tired; he knew he couldn't kill Timoteo, not while the mage was in his current state. He attempted to flee, running past Timoteo, running towards the path that led away from the picnic area. Timoteo wouldn't let him escape, however. Turning and raising his cleaver, he threw it towards the fleeing bandit. The sword whipped around in the air for several seconds before striking the bandit in the back of his right leg, in the back of his knee, actually severing the limb entirely.
The bandit shouted in pain before collapsing to the ground. It wouldn't be long before the bandit bled to death. Timoteo's spell wore off not a second later. Timoteo let out another shout, his shout rapidly growing lighter until it matched his normal voice. When it did, the creature he had become, the creature that could barely be described as human, instantly vanished, leaving Timoteo standing in it's wake, still as terribly wounded as he had been when he was under the influence of Berserk. He fell to his hands and knees, panting like mad, wondering about what had happened. He weakly looked over to Darrah. His eyes brimmed with tears for hardly a second before what seemed like a miracle occurred. Darrah had lain dead for hardly a minute before a cracking sound was suddenly heard from within her pack. A moment later, a flash of white light surrounded Darrah's body, fading a second later. When it had faded, her eyelids fluttered. She had come back to life!
She sat up with a drowsy groan. Her wounds had shut, she was totally healed. The arrow that had been imbedded into her right shoulder now lay on the ground by her right side. Looking around, she noticed that all of the bandits were dead...And that's when she noticed Timoteo. He had grown so weak that he had fallen over on to his left side, facing Darrah. "Tim!" Darrah breathed his name, her eyes going wide. She scrambled to her feet, abandoning her sword for the time being, racing over to the mage. She fell to her knees by him, grabbing him, pulling him close. His chest close to her knees, she could take in the full extent of his damage. His back had been so slashed up by weapons that most of his clothing had been ripped away, as well as most of his flesh, various bloody muscles exposed. The same could be said for his arms and legs, various hunks of flesh lacerated into nothingness, leaving only muscles that spasmed in pain and squirted crimson every few seconds.
Blood was rapidly running from his mouth due to a particularly deep axe blow he had taken to his right hip, the axe having bitten quite deep into his torso. He was taking in wheezing breaths, and his eyes were growing sleepy. Darrah's eyes were tearful as she lightly said "Oh, Avo! Hold on, we've got health potions!" To Timoteo, her voice sounded faint and far-off. He still didn't know what was going on, but somehow he knew that he was dying. The only thought he had running through his mind at that moment was that he didn't want things to end so soon, after his life as a Hero had just started. "Tim, Tim please, open your mouth! Drink this!" Timoteo felt something cool touch his bottom lip, and a second later, something cold ran into his mouth, washing away the warm blood that coated his teeth and tongue. He felt too weak to swallow, and only coughed, ending up spitting up the mouthful of health potion that Darrah had administered to him.
Tears ran down Darrah's face as she grew more desperate. "Tim, please don't do this!! Drink the potion!" She nearly cried. She poured more of the potion into his mouth, using her other hand to pinch his nose. Timoteo had no choice but to let the potion slide down his throat, then. Weak or not, he still felt a desire to breath, and so forced himself to down the potion. Quick mouthful after mouthful, Darrah kept him drinking until the potion was finished. When it was, she threw the empty bottle away, finally giving Timoteo a chance to breathe. Searching through her pack rapidly, which she had taken off and set by her side, she pulled out another two health potions just as she noticed something damp in her pack. Reaching into the wetness, she felt a prick of pain on her middle finger, quickly yanking her hand back out of her pack. She ignored the dampness in her pack, focusing on Timoteo, forcing him to down the other two potions she had pulled out.
His wounds were healing slowly, and he seemed to still be quite weak. Darrah didn't realize it, but although Timoteo's body was still wounded, she had saved him from the brink of death; his mind was rejuvenated, and his spirit remained, wishing to continue with life. He heard her perfectly well, feeling her pull him until his back was resting on her thighs. "Please Tim, don't die! I beg of you!" She cried. She brought her hands to either side of his head, letting out a sob as she hung her head low, touching her forehead to his left temple. Timoteo realized he wasn't dying anymore, but he still didn't feel like he could control his body. Pain was wracking his mind, but it was slowly subsiding, thanks to the potions Darrah had forced him to imbibe. "Don't leave me alone!..." She sobbed out, by his ear. Timoteo hadn't realized that Darrah had cared so much about him as to cry when he was close to perishing. "Heal, you damn mage!!" Darrah nearly shrieked, her eyes going wide as she pulled her head back, her eyes red from her crying.
As if reacting to her words, the potions fully took effect then, and Timoteo's wounds almost entirely shut. He still felt weak from losing so much blood, but he wasn't in any pain, anymore. Darrah's eyes stayed wide when she realized that he had healed, and before he could say anything, she let out a shaky laugh. Shoving her left arm under his right, yet slipping her right arm over his left shoulder, she hugged him tight, pressing her face into his right shoulder. She let out another shaky laugh, the second shorter than the first. "Oh, Avo!!..." He heard her say in a muffled voice. She pulled her head back up a moment later, bringing her hands to his shoulders, smiling with tearful eyes. Her tears were now tears of joy, the girl sniffling as she lightly said "I thought I had lost you!..." Timoteo had a fatigued face, but he smiled, his eyes half-closed as they looked up to her's. "I should be saying that to you..." He said. Darrah was still smiling, still crying as she glanced down to her stomach, to the hole that went through her shirt.
Looking back up to his face, she raised her eyebrows, saying "Yeah, I don't know what happened, but I really don't care!...I'm just glad you're okay!..." Timoteo smiled a little more, letting out a soft exhale like a chuckle before saying "I think I went crazy after you went down...I don't remember much, just...Being angry..." Darrah sniffled again, beginning to calm down, looking up and looking around as she said "Yeah, the bandits are all dead...We completed the quest, and we're okay!...Oh!..." She came close and hugged him tight again, squeezing him in her strong arms. He smiled happily. He had no idea that death brought out so much affection in people. Darrah hugged him for several seconds more before finally releasing him. She helped him sit up before looking back into her pack. Her face going curious then, her eyes still red from her crying, she searched around in her pack for the source of the dampness, as well as the reason why her finger had been pricked.
Eventually, she came across her answer. The two angelic potions that had been in everyone's pack, the ones that nobody had known a purpose for, suddenly had it's purpose revealed to Darrah. One of her angelic potions had shattered in her pack, and she realized that it must've brought her back to life. She then realized that if she hadn't done anything and had simply let Timoteo die, she would've saved herself the drama of crying over him, as he would've come back as good as new not long after. Telling her thoughts to Timoteo, he said "I've heard of potions that can save someone from death...Forget what they're called, though." Timoteo said. Weakly, he began to stand up, Darrah standing up with him. He smiled, saying "Although, I don't really regret what happened...We're fine now, and...Well, it was fun watching you cry over me..." Darrah gave him a shocked look, but Timoteo quickly added "And it was nice hugging you, too..."
Darrah's expression rapidly calmed down, and she seemed lost for words for several seconds. Eventually, the unmistakable red of blush entered her cheeks, and her eyes grew annoyed. Her voice was weakly feigning anger as she said "You're weird, Tim! Since when is it fun to watch someone cry over you?" Timoteo grinned, saying "It's fun when they think you're dying and you're really alright, it's fun when you see how much they care about you." Darrah was lost for words for another second, but she eventually stormed past him, calling over her shoulder as she said "You're stupid! Sometimes I wonder why I even talk to you!" Timoteo chuckled before asking "Why are you blushing, Darrah?" Darrah spoke with more realistic anger as she called out over her shoulder again, refusing to look at him. "I'm not blushing! I'm just really hot from the fighting! Don't make me smack you, mage!" Timoteo smiled a little bit, but he felt a little disappointed at the same time.
It seemed like, for the time being at least, Darrah had regressed to the way she had been before the two had kissed while under the effects of Blue Mushrooms; she seemed to view him as little more than a mage-boy once again. Timoteo limped after her, saying "I may be a mage, but at least I have the courage to admit that I liked you hugging me." Darrah quickly said "I-!" yet trailed off, whirling around and looking to Timoteo as she spoke. She quickly lowered her eyes from his and looked to the ground, her blush slowly fading. They stood in silence for several seconds before Darrah looked up to his eyes again. She was growing tearful once more, something Timoteo hadn't expected. He felt awful, thinking he had hurt her with his words in some way. Darrah lightly said "I thought I had lost you, Tim!..." She shook her head gently, saying "Don't ever do that to me again, you're my closest friend, I don't want to lose you!..."
Timoteo's face grew calm for a moment before it grew sad, and he gently said "I thought you were gone, too...It hurt..." They stared into one another's eyes for a few seconds before Darrah walked over to him, grabbing him in a hug. Her arms around his neck, he was able to hug her back, bringing his arms around her and resting his hands against the middle of her back. They hugged one another for nearly thirty seconds before they finally began to release one another, slowly taking a step back from one another. Darrah raised a hand to her face, wiping at her cheeks with her fingers for a few seconds, smiling a little before saying "Whew, I didn't think I'd end up crying when I signed my name on that Quest Card...But the quest is done, now. Let's grab any loot we can from the bandits and head back to the Guild, okay?" Timoteo nodded, saying "Alright..."
Timoteo and Darrah took all of the weapons that the bandits had had, but found that they had nothing else on them; no gold, no potions, nothing at all. Everything laid out on the ground before them, Darrah said "You know, it's not a big deal that they didn't have any gold. We can just sell off the stuff here, and on top of the gold we'll get just for doing the quest, I think we'll come out with a tidy profit...In fact..." Darrah began to smile widely. "I think we might actually have enough for a chainmail shirt! Not enough for a whole suit, but at least enough for a shirt." Timoteo nodded. "Cool." He said simply. Darrah looked over to him, saying "Get rid of that iron longsword, take one of the steel weapons the bandits had. It'll be an improvement, I promise." Timoteo gave her a slight look for a moment before taking his iron longsword from his back. He dropped it to the pile of weapons in front of the two, glancing along the other weapons for several seconds.
He eventually decided on the steel mace, bending over and picking it up, glancing along it. The metal sphere at the end of the mace was perfectly round and had several small spikes of shining steel that protruded from it. A metal shaft extended down from the spiked orb, the shaft eventually leading to a wooden handle made of stout oak. The handle was wrapped in leather to help cushion one's hand as they wielded the weapon. "The mace?" Darrah curiously said. Timoteo nodded, smiling. "Feels right." He said. Darrah raised an eyebrow, shrugging after a moment, saying "You could use it to club and break bones and stuff, but I'd use a sword. That's just me, though. Let's get this stuff up, we've gotta move it to Bowerstone..." Timoteo helped her pick everything up, including his busted pack, and began carrying it towards Bowerstone. Once they had shared that final hug before grabbing all the weapons from the slain bandits, Darrah had calmed down rapidly, returning to her regular self.
Timoteo was constantly thinking of her arms tight around him, the raw emotion she had shown when she thought she had lost him. He wondered if he would've done the same were he in her position, if he would've reacted so strongly if he thought he was going to lose her. He still didn't really remember what had happened before, he still didn't realize he had cast Berserk, but he knew he must've done something, because after his blackout the bandits were all dead and he was terribly wounded. There was also thoughts about the angelic potion that had broken in Darrah's pack. Did it really save her? And if so, did that mean she could die once more and be saved by her second potion? Did that mean Timoteo could die twice and be brought back both times? He was thinking so much that he didn't say a single word to Darrah on the way to Bowerstone, something that worried her slightly. When they reached the town of Bowerstone and walked into it's entry street, Darrah finally said something to him, saying "Tim, if you're going to hang on to a bow, you might as well take the one from the archer bandit. It's better quality than the one the Guild gave you."
Timoteo was silent but had an annoyed face as he switched the weapons around, walking with Darrah as she approached a blacksmith not far from the entrance to Bowerstone South. Timoteo watched silently as Darrah sold the items, barely listening until it came time to collect the gold. For the seven iron long swords, they were given one thousand and fifty gold pieces, and with Timoteo's old sword, there was one thousand and two hundred in total. For his old bow, they were given another one hundred and fifty gold. For the iron axe, they were given one hundred and twenty five gold, while for the steel cleaver, they were given four hundred and thirteen gold pieces. Their total wealth so far accumulated over the two days they had been out of the Guild was now two thousand, four hundred, and eighty-six pieces. Of course, that was too much gold for anybody to hold properly, so they had several coins that were worth more than the usual coins, which were only worth one gold per piece.
Their gold pieces in a reasonably sized sack, Darrah grinned as she said "Now, time to head back to the Guild and collect on our pay!" Timoteo smiled a little, shaking his head slightly at Darrah's enthusiasm, following after her as the two left Bowerstone South. It didn't take them long to reach the Guild, and when they did, they walked in to the front room to find Merlin by the Map Table. By him was an apprentice, a sack of gold in their hands. Merlin smiled as they approached, saying "Completed a quest, hmm? Always warms my heart to see. Here's the gold that went with the Quest Card. Congratulations." Darrah smiled as she walked up, taking the sack of gold from the apprentice, saying "Thank you. Let's go, Tim." Timoteo raised an eyebrow. "Man, you've had me running around all day!..." He said as they headed for the Guild's large wooden doors. Darrah raised an eyebrow, looking to him without a smile. "We're done for the day, though." She said. Timoteo raised his eyebrows a little, smiling, saying "Thank Avo. I want to rest, sheesh." Darrah laughed lightly, saying "We both nearly died today...Well, I did die, but not for real...Anyway, any day where we die and come back to life, that's a day where we rest!" Timoteo grinned, saying "Sounds good to me!" as the two exited the Guild once more.
The two quickly headed back to Bowerstone South, entering the town. "C'mon, let's see if we can get any decent armour, yet." Darrah said. Timoteo nodded, and the two approached a nearby blacksmith. The blacksmith's place of work was a building with only three walls to it, leaving an entire wall absent to keep the building ventilated and cooled of the smoke and heat from the blacksmith's large forge. The small building was taken up mostly by the blacksmith's forge and other various tools of his trade, but a more business-like area was set off to the side, with a long counter sitting in front of various crates of crafted goods. Approaching the blacksmith, Darrah called out to him, interrupting him as he hammered an iron longsword. Looking to her, he rested his large smithing hammer down, saying "Yeah? Can I help ya?" Darrah asked "Tell me, how much does a chainmail shirt cost?" The blacksmith was a tall and beefy man, his muscles gained from long days and nights working at the forge.
Wearing a dirty apron, dark pants and boots, along with dark gloves, his hair was shaved short while a goatee was grown around his mouth. "Regular, Dark, or Bright?" He asked. Darrah said "Whichever's cheapest." The blacksmith said "Regular chainmail shirt is two thousand, nine hundred, and sixty-seven gold." Darrah's jaw dropped. She glanced at Timoteo, saying "We barely have enough for just one regular shirt of simple chainmail! Skorm's teeth, armour prices have flown up since I was a kid!" The blacksmith raised his eyebrows, leaning his head back, almost pointing his chin at them. "Blame the economy. It's gone to shit in the last decade." He said. Darrah looked to Timoteo, saying "Well, I guess we won't be able to get it..." They both heard footsteps approach them from behind, and a deep, masculine voice spoke out, the voice sounding calm and mature, the owner obviously being a thoughtful individual.
"I'll take care of it. You two are the Heroes that took care of the bandits in the picnic area not long ago, correct?" Timoteo and Darrah both looked to the man as he walked up and stood by Timoteo's left side, facing the blacksmith. He was fairly tall, taller than Timoteo and just an inch or two taller than Darrah. His body was a bit thick, the man having some developed muscle to him, but he wasn't as beefy as the blacksmith or Brute, those two individuals looking almost like barbarians. Weight-wise, he had a healthy weight to him, but he wasn't chubby. The man appeared to be in his early thirties, perhaps late twenties. He had black hair, the bangs combed up slightly, coming back down in a sort of curve, making a bit of a cliff over the man's forehead. Timoteo and Darrah could both see that the man had a widow's peak to his hairline. Aside from his combed bangs, the man's hair was left untouched, although it naturally seemed to stay flat and smooth.
He had dark circles around his eyes, and the irises of his eyes were a hellish red. His face was well-formed, his jaw strong, his nose perfect; Darrah had to admit, the man was handsome. His skin was of a light shade, like Timoteo's and Darrah's own. He wore a black coat that looked like it was made of leather from a cow, the coat reaching down to the middles of the man's thighs. The coat was left undone and open, revealing the armour the man wore beneath. Underneath the coat, he wore a breastplate made mostly of a dark metal, close to black. All along the chest of the breastplate, however, there was a rather labyrinthine design of crimson metal. Just over the middle of the man's chest, situated slightly to the left, there was a small design similar to a traditional heart, but it wasn't very noticeable. He seemed to be wearing gloves combined with gauntlets, as the man had gray fingerless gloves on his hands, a piece of metal sticking out from each of his sleeves and coming over the backs of the man's wrists and hands, protecting them.
The metal coming over his hands was black with crimson etchings, like his breastplate. The man wore black pants, large armour plates attached to the fronts and backs of his thighs and forelegs, protecting his limbs. The metal covering most of his legs was like his breastplate, as well; the majority of the metal was dark, but there were maze-like designs of crimson visible. He wore metal boots made of a metal very similar to the metals at other parts of his body, the boots being shadowy with dark red designs along the sides, but not the fronts or backs. Attached to his gray belt and situated to the right of his shimmering silver belt buckle, there was a Guild Seal. Clipped to the man's left hip, to his belt, was the scabbard of a sword, the handle of the sheathed blade sticking out by the man's side. The tip of the scabbard came out from under the man's jacket, sticking out by the back of his knee. Timoteo nodded, saying "We are."
The man looked to the blacksmith, nodding, saying "Get a suit of chainmail...In fact, get two. I'll pay for them." The blacksmith nodded, turning and walking off towards a nearby crate. Darrah and Timoteo turned to face the man, Darrah saying "Not to look a pair of gift chainmail shirts in the mouth...But why are you buying them for us?" The man turned and faced them, his face serious as he said "You took care of Benedict's bandits at the picnic area. I want to personally thank you for it. Benedict's been an enemy of mine for a while now, and I would've taken the quest had you not snatched it the moment it had been posted. I was just going to thank you, but considering how you appear to be shopping around for some armour, I figure I could say my thanks in an even better way." "Sorry for taking a quest you wanted." Timoteo said. Darrah shot him a look, saying "Don't apologize Tim, we took it fair and square." Looking back to the man, Darrah's expression softened.
"Mind if I ask why Benedict's your enemy?" The man lightly raised an eyebrow, saying "My reasons are my own. Let's leave it at that." Darrah fell silent, avoiding the man's piercing gaze for a second before eventually looking back to his eyes. The man looked to Timoteo, sizing him up for a moment before asking "You're a mage, aren't you?" Timoteo nodded. The man glanced at the blacksmith as he began to pull out a regular chainmail suit from the crate he had walked over to. Looking back to Timoteo, he asked "Have you had much experience fighting other mages?" Timoteo shook his head honestly. He had trained against Bianca and Travis as a child, but that hadn't lasted long before Bianca killed Travis, being exiled shortly after. Since then, he hadn't really fought any Will users, not until his bout against Weaver. The man said "Hmm. I've heard rumours of a witch down in Darkwood. They say she's been raising the dead and practicing other forms of dark magic. I don't know if anybody would be willing to pay for her head, or if the witch is hoarding treasure, but if you were willing to fight another mage, then you could try finding her."
Timoteo and Darrah didn't tell the man that they had been planning on heading down to Darkwood all along. "Really? A witch?" Timoteo asked, genuinely surprised by the news. Had he dreamt of a witch? It would explain the last bit he could remember, if the witch was truly raising the dead, then it would explain his memory of skeletal arms pulling themselves out of the dirt. The man nodded at Timoteo's words. "So they say." He replied. Just then, the blacksmith rested the two shirts of chainmail on the counter, saying "That'll be five thousand, nine hundred, and thirty four gold, sir." Approaching the counter, the man reached into a pocket on the inside of his jacket, a few light jingles sounding out. The man pulled out three silver coins, glancing to his hand for a moment before slipping them into the blacksmith's hand. "Keep what's left." The man said. The blacksmith's eyes lit up, and he nodded, saying "You're too kind, sir!"
The man looked to Timoteo and Darrah, saying "Try them on, see if they fit." Timoteo and Darrah didn't need a second prompting. Pulling the suits of chainmail on over their clothes, they both found that the armour fit them nicely. The chainmail was made of an iron that wasn't too dull yet didn't shine, being of normal lustre. The chainmail was formed like regular chainmail, being made up of countless tiny links connected to one another. Timoteo found the armour slightly heavy, but he knew he'd be able to manage. Darrah, on the other hand, didn't find the armour to be very heavy, at all. She knew she'd still be able to run for extended periods of time with it on her body. Darrah smiled as she looked down at herself, saying "How can we thank you for buying us these?" The man raised an eyebrow, saying "You can't. I'm buying them for you because I wanted to thank you, I wasn't looking to put you in my debt." "We don't even know your name." Timoteo said, looking to the man.
The man kept a relaxed face as he said "Call me Grimm. And yourselves?" Timoteo said "I'm Timoteo." Darrah, in turn, said "My name's Darrah." The man nodded. Politely, he said "Farewell to you both, I must away. Perhaps I'll see one of you again some day." He walked past them both, not even looking over his shoulder as he departed. Neither of them questioned their good luck, simply leaving the blacksmith and heading out into the street. "Should we get potions now?" Timoteo asked. Darrah nodded, raising an eyebrow, saying "And food, too. Lots of food and drink. Before we go shopping though, let's sit somewhere and eat some more pie, I'm getting pretty damn hungry." Timoteo chuckled, but he knew he felt the same as her, saying "Alright." in agreement.
It didn't take them very long to find a quiet spot somewhere and pull out their pies. Quickly swallowing down two slices each, they then set out to buy some potions. Rather easily finding an alchemist shop, Timoteo waited outside while Darrah took care of the actual shopping. When Darrah returned, she told Timoteo that she had bought seven health potions for one hundred and twenty-four gold each, totalling eight hundred and sixty-eight gold. She had also bought four mana potions for one hundred gold each, totalling four hundred. She handed him three of the health potions while she kept the other four, handing him the four mana potions, as well. It being some time in the late afternoon by then, the duo simply decided to rest and relax until it was evening. When evening rolled around, they bought themselves a hearty dinner at a local food market before resigning themselves to the inn for an early night's sleep.
On the way to the inn, Timoteo asked "Do you think we should grab any more Quest Cards that involve bandits from now on? That Grimm guy might want them, if they involve Benedict or his bandits." Darrah made a face, replying with a flat "If he grabs them, good for him. If we take them, it's his tough luck." Timoteo left things at that. They entered the pub, quickly buying two beds, heading upstairs. Undressing and slipping their belongings under their beds, they slipped into bed and quickly fell asleep. Timoteo didn't sleep for long, however. In the dead of night, he awoke to the sound of sniffling. Extremely tired, he barely opened his eyes, sitting up a little while looking over to Darrah's bed. The second floor was rather empty, like it had been the day before. Timoteo saw Darrah to be sitting on her bed, the sheets thrown from her to the far side of the bed. She was hugging her knees to her chest, her pillow between her thighs and her chest, her chin down on the pillow.
Her eyes were wide and tearful, her hair messy with her bangs blown down over her eyes, concealing them slightly. "Mm...Darrah?..." Timoteo mumbled. She looked over to him, the girl suddenly realizing that he was awake. "Timoteo?" She softly said. He began to sit up some more. "You okay?..." He asked. She nodded lightly for a moment before her bottom lip visibly trembled, Darrah shaking her head not even a second later. "I had a nightmare..." Was all she said. She sounded timid, she sounded truly afraid. Timoteo had never heard her speak in such a way, and it frightened him, even. Hearing the tough Darrah sound like a subdued little girl as she spoke made him see that she had been honestly frightened by her nightmare. He had had nightmares before, and he knew that he had never wanted to talk about them shortly after they had happened, so he didn't ask her about it. She looked to him, her face going conflicted.
"Tim, can I...Ask a favour of you?..." She asked, her jaw beginning to chatter lightly. In the dark of the inn's second floor, Timoteo nodded. Darrah didn't say anything for several seconds. "Can I..." She fell silent for a few seconds. "Could I...Maybe..." She hesitated again. "Could you what?" Timoteo asked. Darrah was silent for a few seconds. "Could I...Sleep in your bed?..." She slowly and quietly asked before letting out a sniffle. Timoteo, due to being so tired, didn't feel very surprised by her request; his mind was too slowed down to process the reaction of surprise very strongly. "Sure, if you think it'll help..." He said. Without another word, Darrah got up from her bed, walking over to his. She pulled up the sheets of his bed, noiselessly slipping herself in. Turning her back to him, she lay on her side in silence for almost a minute. During that time, Timoteo had nearly drifted to sleep. Darrah moved, however, and it roused him away from sleep again.
She moved a little closer to him in the bed, bringing her back a bit closer to his chest. He heard her sniffle again. He felt her reach an arm behind herself, and felt her gently grasp his left hand. "Tim?..." She said gently, not looking over her shoulder. "Mm?..." He mumbled, feeling a little surprised that Darrah was holding his hand. She softly yet almost pleadingly said "Hold me..." She brought his hand up to her left hip, resting his hand on her soft skin. Timoteo felt confused, not knowing what to do. After a few seconds, he brought himself closer to her, accidentally moving close enough that Darrah's curvy bum began to press against his loins. "Like, um...Like this?..." He softly asked by the back of her head, smoothing his hand around her, moving his hand to her soft tummy. He felt her tremble at his touch, but she didn't recoil. "Yes...Like that..." She said gently. Moving her legs a little closer to his, the two naturally began to spoon against one another, their curved legs fitting together.
"Thank you so much for doing this..." Darrah said lightly, beginning to sound sleepy. Timoteo didn't say a thing, he was already on the brink of falling asleep once more. It hardly took another dozen seconds for Timoteo to fall asleep, while it took another minute for Darrah to finally embrace the darkness once more. They slept in together, sleeping until nearly ten in the morning, the both of them having gotten about eleven hours of sleep. When Timoteo woke up, the first thing he was greeted with was the soft and pleasant scent of Darrah's hair, her scent drifting through his senses like honey. Darrah awoke shortly after, waking to find Timoteo holding her. Neither of them complained about what had happened in the middle of the night, or even about waking up with one another. As they got out of bed and began to get dressed, Timoteo gently asked "Did you...Want to talk about your nightmare?..." As Darrah pulled her shirt on, she shook her head, lightly saying "No...I don't want to think about it, even...But...Thanks for letting me sleep with you..."
Darrah's face went a little sad for a moment as she said "My brother used to let me sleep with him when I had nightmares...He used to hold me a lot like you did." Her face became a little more cheerful then, Darrah looking to Timoteo's eyes, honestly saying "So...Thank you. I really appreciate it." Timoteo smiled a little, picking up his broken pack, saying "Any time." Darrah held back a light laugh, saying "Careful, I might hold you to your word. Don't want me waking you up in the middle of the night over a stupid nightmare, do you?" Timoteo raised an eyebrow, playfully saying "I'd manage." Darrah didn't reply, but she did end up smiling more. Not long after, she had finished dressing. "Well, first thing's first, we need to get you a new bag for your stuff. The straps on your's are broken...Then, we need to buy a whole bunch of food and drinks for our trip." Darrah said matter-of-factly. Timoteo asked "We have the money for all that, right?"
Darrah smiled, raising an eyebrow, saying "We should. C'mon, let's get going, already." Timoteo grinned a little, Darrah leading the way as the two headed for the staircase down into the main floor of the inn.
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Fable : Fall of the Guild