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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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Leave Your Mark.
Fable : Fall of the Guild

Part XI - "Epilogue"

By: Jesse Racine AKA Samson

Original Date Written: March 19, 2013

Bianca’s eyes snapped open as an urgent knocking came at the bedroom door, Gibbons’ voice quickly sounding out. “Guys, a League ship is hailing us, they’re headed straight for us! We need to get ready!” Bianca began to sit up in a hurry, grabbing Timoteo’s shoulders, giving him a light shake. Timoteo’s eyelids fluttered, but when Gibbons gave their door another hard knocking, he started to open his eyes. “Guys, are you awake? We don’t have a lot of time!” Gibbons warned. “What’s going on?” Timoteo quietly groaned. “We’re awake, we’ll be out in a minute!” Bianca called back, glancing at the room’s shut door. They both heard Gibbons’ footsteps hastily walk away, heading back for his bedroom. “What’s wrong?” Timoteo asked, beginning to sit up, as well. Bianca started to get off of the cot, worriedly saying “Gibbons thinks a League ship is coming our way, and that they’re signalling to us...” Timoteo sprung out of bed, his expression turning concerned.
“I knew just sitting around was a bad idea...” He muttered out. The two of them quickly walking over to the second cot in the room, they started to pull on their clothes, able to hear Gibbons and Marilyn walking around, outside. “There’s nowhere to hide, on this ship...And they’ll recognize Gibbons and Marilyn, a-and they’ll know I’m a Hero.” Bianca said, trying to keep herself from being hit with anxiety, her eyes becoming more and more worried. She pulled on only the bare necessities, slipping on her tiny pair of panties before getting into her shirt, slipping on her skirt for the final piece. Timoteo, getting fully dressed, comfortingly stroked a hand over Bianca’s upper back, gently saying “We’ll be fine. We can just teleport away, if push comes to shove.” Bianca blinked, realization dawning in her eyes. “Oh, yes, that’s right...In the rush, I forgot.” Bianca smiled with embarrassment, bringing a hand up to her face, closing her eyes.
“Oh, I feel foolish.” She lightly commented. Timoteo smiled, leaning over, giving her a kiss on her left cheek. “Don’t be, Gibbons and Marilyn probably forgot, too.” “Maybe.” Bianca murmured out, lowering her hand. The two quickly stepped over to their bedroom door, Timoteo pulling it open. Gibbons and Marilyn were already standing there, dressed in their usual clothing, with Gibbons wearing his stealthy nighttime outfit, Marilyn wearing her unusual suit of makeshift armour. Marilyn had a hand raised to her forehead, her eyes nervously darting around at nothing, in particular, as her mind raced to come up with an answer for the group’s newfound problem. Gibbons raised his hands at chest-level, quickly saying “Alright, guys, here’s what happened. A minute ago, I was out on the deck, when I noticed a ship, not far from us. They were aimed right for us, and a twinkling light was coming from the crow’s nest.
The sails have League colours, and the signal can really only mean one thing...They want us to stay put until they come over, so they can investigate the ship’s cargo and passengers.” “Do you think they know we’re here?” Bianca softly asked. Marilyn shut her eyes tight, almost sounding as if she were in pain as she said “No, if they knew that, then they wouldn’t have signalled. They would’ve just come over and started firing.” Timoteo smiled with a bit of carefree flair, trying to calm the two down, saying “Guys, relax. We can just teleport away, remember? We have our Seals, again.” Marilyn’s eyes shot open. Gibbons’ face went blank. Bianca began to smile, a little. Gibbons started to smile, giving a little shake with his head, muttering out “Son of a bitch, and I got so worked up, too.” Marilyn grinned, a little, lowering her hand from her forehead. Timoteo gave a little shrug, saying “Only thing we have to be worried about is which Cullis Gate we’ll go to.”
“And whether or not the League is watching it.” Gibbons quickly added. Timoteo gave a little shrug, in response. Bianca, her eyes on Gibbons, quietly asked “Gibbons, how valuable is this vessel, to you?” Gibbons raised an eyebrow at her, giving her a peculiar look. “Why do you ask? You wanna buy a stolen ship?” Bianca started to smile, a little. Her brow slowly began to sink, as she said “No...But I don’t think the League should just find it abandoned. They could seize it, and make use of it. I was thinking of leaving them a little farewell gift...Something to thank them for their hospitality.” Gibbons and Marilyn both gave Timoteo askew glances. Timoteo started to smile. A wicked grin began to grow on Gibbons’ face.
When the investigating League members stopped their large, expensive ship beside the comparatively tiny Lutra Pearls, they found what appeared to be an abandoned vessel. Extending wooden platforms to board the vessel, they searched for occupants, but found the hold of the Lutra Pearls to be empty, aside from some meagre food stores. There was no record of a vessel by such a name docking at Knothole Glade, leaving the League members highly suspicious. They almost tore the ship apart, looking for a secret compartment that the occupants could be hiding inside, but they found not a thing. The Lutra Pearls had truly been forsaken. The League investigators weren’t satisfied. Just in case the occupants were hiding in a secret compartment, or had slipped into the ocean to avoid the investigators, the investigators carried a barrel of flammable oil from their ship on to the Lutra Pearls.
Kicking over the barrel and spilling the copious contents out on to the ship’s deck, the League investigators threw over a torch as they began to sail away, instantly igniting the oil and setting alight the Lutra Pearls. Eaten by the flames, the ship broke apart, splintering into two halves as it sunk into the ocean. Later that night, the curse Bianca had placed over the Lutra Pearls came to fruition. The investigators had been doomed the moment they had set foot on the Heroes’ ship. Each were woken up by their own screaming, the nightmares they had been beset with seemingly personal attacks from Skorm, himself. Racing out on to the deck of the ship, afflicted with madness and hysteria, they believed they could see the Lutra Pearls on the distance, a ghostly version of the ship barrelling towards them. A storm began to brew as the League investigators used their firearms, trying to fire at the apparition before it could reach them.
Consumed by panic and dementia, the investigators tried to guide their ship away from the Lutra Pearls, but no matter where they went, no matter where their ship lurched, Bianca’s curse prevented them from losing sight of the wraith. As the Lutra Pearls closed in, the investigators chose death, rather than facing whatever horrors might await on the spectral vessel. Each of them slitting their own throats, they cast themselves into the ocean. A day later, their ship drifted into port at Knothole Glade, desolate. Nobody ever discovered what had befallen the occupants.
Meanwhile, Timoteo, Bianca, Gibbons, and Marilyn all teleported to the Cullis Gate in Greatwood. Unfortunately, a group of League members had been watching the Gate, and immediately opened fire upon the figures’ materialization. Each of them hit numerous times with slugs, only Timoteo’s Heal Life spell kept them from falling victim to the League members and their firearms. While the League members scrambled to load more slugs into their firearms, the group descended upon them, slaughtering them with blade and spell. On the precipice between Greatwood and Darkwood, Timoteo and Bianca said their farewells to Gibbons and Marilyn, wishing them the best of luck in whatever endeavours they may undertake. The two wished them the same, and then went their separate ways, Timoteo and Bianca heading south and into the forbidding territory of Darkwood, Gibbons and Marilyn striking out towards the north...
“What the...What happened, here?” Timoteo muttered, his expression shocked. Bianca looked around, her eyes wide. The two had spent hours trekking through Darkwood, heading for Grizelda’s cottage, fighting off balverines and Hollow Men whenever they struck. Upon entering the clearing that Grizelda’s cottage sat within, they found only charred rubble, the cottage having been razed to the foundation. Smoke still weakly drifted from the cellar entrance, though most of the stairway had been blocked off with rubble. Bodies were strewn throughout the clearing, each massacred in a different manner. Some were burned, like the cottage, while others had been torn apart, as if by animals, and yet others almost appeared to have been partially liquified, melted into flesh-coloured puddles in the grass. The dozens of corpses all appeared to have been Witchspotters, each wearing the traditional dark uniform, a wide, black hat near each corpse. “Grizelda! Grizelda!” Bianca loudly called out, quickly approaching the ruins of the cottage.
She stepped over several charred, crumpled bodies, approaching what had once been the front entrance of the cottage. She brought a hand over her mouth and nose, her heart beginning to race with worry. Holding back a cough from the lingering smoke, she called out Grizelda’s name, again. Timoteo looked around, still in shock as he followed after Bianca, trying to piece together from the scene whatever catastrophe had caused so much death and destruction. Timoteo coughed, bringing a hand over his face. The stench of death was haunting, unforgettable, and overpowering, especially so with the many scorched corpses. “Grizelda!” Bianca called out, one last time. A sudden cawing in the trees caught their attention, coming from the eastern edge of the clearing. The two of them looked over, another throaty cawing calling out. A crow was flying over, winging to them in a hurry. “Abel!” Bianca said, with relief.
Finally smiling a little, she raised a hand, lowering her other hand from her face. Abel flew over, slowing down as he neared them, rearing up just before his feet met the back of Bianca’s hand. He gave a little flap with his wings, momentarily sticking his head out as he gave one last caw. Bianca puckered up her lips and made smooching sounds, Abel excitedly turning around a few times on her hand, spinning around several times before stopping and facing her, again. “Looks like he missed you.” Timoteo said, smiling a little. Bianca was about to respond when a soft, misty voice reached the ears of them both. Their expressions went surprised when they identified it as Grizelda’s voice, Abel staying still as he relayed her message to them both. In little more than a whisper, Grizelda’s words ran through their ears. In her message, they could both tell that she felt tired, perhaps she was even in pain, but she didn’t come across as concerned.
“Bianca, my sweet, and Timoteo...By now, you’ve found the cottage, or, rather, what’s left of it. Before you concern yourselves with me, rest assured...Everything has been taken care of.” Bianca breathed a sigh of relief, momentarily closing her eyes. Grizelda’s message continued, Abel passing on the Will-fuelled correspondence. “If you’ve already returned to Darkwood, then your plan must’ve succeeded...Or, at the very least, you survived whatever transpired. I’m sure you’re wondering what happened, at the cottage. I had Abel stay here, as I knew this would be the first place you would visit, upon your return. I regret not having the chance to hear your story, but I don’t believe we’ll be able to see one another, for some time.” Bianca’s expression began to turn mildly confused.
“Witchspotters came in force, while you were gone. Scores of them came from the north and south, and made their largest effort yet, to track me down...I knew they were coming, but I decided to stay at the cottage. When they found me, hours later, I stood my ground. The results are what I’m sure you’re seeing, now. I’ve gone to another of my dwellings...Near the eastern edge of Darkwood. I don’t want you to concern yourself with me, I’m quite alright.” “Do you know where she’s talking about?” Timoteo asked. Bianca’s eyes looked a little blank as she gave a light shake, with her head. “No...I know of no particular home on the eastern side of Darkwood.” She quietly mumbled. “Think she kept it a secret, from you?” Timoteo asked. Bianca made a little sound, like an instinctual word that she only barely suppressed. She eventually gave another little shake, with her head. Grizelda’s message went on.
“I love you dearly, Bianca...You were the daughter I never had. Timoteo told me, once, that family is more than blood...That I was more of a mother to you than Octavia was. I’d like to believe that that’s true...When I first saw you, as a child, I never imagined that we’d become so close, to one another. I’ve done my best to raise you, to teach you what I can about Will, about being a lady, and about life, in general. I hope I’ve given you everything that you need to face the world, especially in these dark times. I’ve always been proud of you, and...And I know that you’ll achieve whatever goal you set for yourself.” Bianca’s eyes began to swim with tears. Her chin quivering, she brought a hand up to her mouth, covering it along with her chin. Timoteo looked at her, bringing a hand to her back, comfortingly saying “Hey, are you okay?...” Bianca softly shook her head. Quietly, she breathed out “I th-think she’s saying goodbye...”
Timoteo’s eyes widened, a little. Grizelda’s correspondence came to the conclusion, ending with a message for Timoteo. “Tim...I always knew that Bianca’s feelings for you were deep. When I finally got her to open up about her time at the Guild, she had nothing but nice things to say, about you...It was clear that she missed you, cared about you. As she became more mature, you were the only thing about the Guild that she spoke of, and her view of you became more romantic. I knew that, to have put such an impression on her, you had to have been unique...You had to have done something that nobody else had achieved. I saw what she did, when we first met. You’re braver than you might realize, and you clearly care a great deal about Bianca’s well-being. You wanted to reach her, when everyone else wanted to leave her, let her struggle and suffer with herself. I’ll always be thankful to you, for what you’ve given Bianca...Love is mankind’s redeemer, not Avo. Take care...The Witchspotters will likely return. Avoid them as you return to your home, and they should be none the wiser about it’s location. I’ve treasured knowing the both of you, but...”
Grizelda’s voice trailed off, and the message came to an end. Tears ran down Bianca’s cheeks. Fluid ran into Timoteo’s eyes, his jaw tightening up. Abel let out a low, throaty grumble. Bianca reached her arm over to Timoteo, letting Abel step on to his shoulder. Then, the two held one another, Timoteo wrapping his arms around Bianca, Bianca burying her face into his chest as she began to sob...

Time went on, as it always does. The fall of the Anti-Hero League was the opposite of the Guild of Heroes’ plummet. Where the Guild was smashed in a single day, the League faced a steady descent, a slower and more agonizing death. The deaths of Leroy and Vincent did not, as our Heroes had hoped, put an immediate stop to the Anti-Hero League and Witchspotters of Albion Society. However, it did set off two different chain reactions, working in tandem to bring about the dissolution of both organizations. The duo’s deaths proved that their respective groups were not immune to devastation, the news of the assassinations at the Arena spreading throughout Albion. Also, knowledge that the assassinations had been carried out by Heroes reinvigorated the spirits and hope of all those with Hero blood that had once held faith in the Guild, or had, at least, felt threatened by the Anti-Hero League. To the Heroes remaining, the League had seemed like an indestructible behemoth, something that allowed only the options of death or fleeing. Seeing the League become wounded changed the perspectives of every single Albion citizen.
Without Leroy Kreel to manage the affairs of the League, a group of his captains were suddenly left with the near-absolute power and authority that Leroy had possessed...Power corrupts, but the sheer want for power corrupts even deeper. At first, these six individuals attempted to consolidate the League’s hold over Albion, but disagreements quickly arose as personal agendas and vendettas came into play. The League became torn with infighting, each of the six captains more concerned with using League subordinates to kill each other, rather than trying to remain necessary to the people of Albion. The remnants of the Witchspotters, without Vincent Hopkins to try and keep the group separate from the League, were eventually dragged into the civil war, absorbed into one of the six factions created inside the League. As the captains struggled to slay one another and gain an edge over the other competitors for Leroy’s throne, their civil war began to spill out on to Albion, descending the country into a dark period lasting several years.
As the League lost all resemblance to it’s former self, the people of Albion began to see what it truly meant to have a corrupt group in power. The League’s disorganization made it appear weak, blind, and openly malicious with the common citizen. Finally, after many long, brutal years, the number of captains dwindled down to three. One named himself the new head of the Anti-Hero League, and was promptly assassinated by a Hero. One of the two remaining captains named herself leader of the League, but she, too, was assassinated, likely by the very same Hero. The final remaining captain took control of all remaining League forces, and holed himself up in the Witchwood Arena. He, too, was assassinated, presumably by a Hero. The remaining League forces attempted to keep themselves together, but steadily increasing hostilities from the people of Albion concerned them, making them fear another uprising, similar to the one the League, itself, had stirred up to overthrow the Guild. With the people allowing them no authority, and with the threat of another Guild-like slaughter, the remaining League forces ultimately disbanded, quietly dissolving. The Anti-Hero League was finished.
It took many years for the Anti-Hero League’s hatred of Heroes to fade from the people of Albion. Heroes, their powers, and their Guild, all began to pass from memory into legend, and from legend into fable. The invention of the firearm changed Albion, for better or for worse, empowering humans to an entirely new level. With the strength of black powder and lead slugs, the people felt they had little to fear...And yet, Heroes were always remembered for their capabilities. As the tales evolved, Heroes were eventually seen as superior to ordinary people, even after the invention of firearms. Nothing like the Guild was ever created in Albion, again. The genocide attempted by the League had a drastic, permanent effect on Albion. Hero bloodlines had dwindled so far that dying out almost seemed guaranteed...And the hatred the League had scarred into Albion for years prevented the children of Heroes from identifying themselves as such. As generations passed, true Heroes began to fade, and most with Heroic capabilities were entirely ignorant of their heritage. The Heroic Talents of Strength and Skill could be explained away, while individuals skilled with Will either hid their power, or became wandering pariahs. Heroes, travelling Albion and serving or slaughtering the people, became the stuff of bittersweet myths.
Timoteo and Bianca returned to their home near the heart of Darkwood, Grizelda’s apparent final message for the two descending Bianca into a deep depression. For the first few months of the League’s civil war, Witchspotters continued to scour Darkwood, looking for the escaped Witch of Darkwood, not realizing that they had already succeeded in catching the true Witch. Only once the Witchspotters had been fully absorbed by the blighted husk of the League, did the hunts stop. Bianca’s depression over her guardian’s demise was nearly debilitating, and lasted for close to two months. She tried her best to carry on with Timoteo, but Grizelda’s passing left a black stain on Bianca’s heart, filling her with sorrow...Only when she became pregnant, did her depression lift. At the realization that she would soon become a mother, she and Timoteo had a lengthy conversation with one another, and finally, Timoteo could bring her back to the happy Bianca he knew and loved.
The two never left Darkwood, making the region their family home, raising three children, two boys and a girl. The boys, they named Weaver and Kiln, while the girl, they named Zelda, each named after important figures in the lives of the two Heroes. It can be safely assumed that they lived in happiness, and that their bloodline was one of the few that flourished into Albion’s future. Their home was eventually lost, however...It is believed that the mysterious corruption of the Grey House ultimately seeped out into the surrounding territory, pervading Darkwood and Oakvale both, merging them and altering them into an even more inhospitable version of themselves...The people of Albion came to calling the region Wraithmarsh, and while Darkwood had had some pockets of human presence to it, Wraithmarsh was all but entirely abandoned to the forces of nature.
Darrah’s return to her family estate was met with tragedy. While Alexander had been at Hook Coast, preparing to strike Benedict, Leroy had sent a strong force of League members to Sundale. With only a fraction of the estate’s knights left behind to defend the territory, the League members took the estate with ease. Slaughtering everyone within, including Darrah’s mother and elder sister, they confiscated Alexander’s wealth, then set fire to the estate. The people of Sundale, left with no warriors, were forced to stand by and watch the attack take place, powerless to stop the League members from returning to the Witchwood Arena. Upon discovering the deaths of her mother, Jasmine, and her sister, Natalie, Darrah felt desolated. When she received word of what had happened to her father, she felt devastated. The final ship travelling from Hook Coast to the Albion mainland had been attacked and wrecked by several League vessels, and Alexander was presumed dead.
Craig, too, felt ravaged by all the misfortune that had befallen their family, he and Darrah trying their best to console each other. At first, they tried to salvage their situation, attempting to reclaim their family fortune from the remnants of the League, but it quickly became apparent how hastily the six captains vying for power had already spent the gold, using it to arm the men loyal to them with rifles. When they accepted that their family had been ruined, the two came to the decision to leave Albion. Using her Seal to contact Timoteo one last time, Darrah tearfully told him of the troubles that had befallen her family, and reaffirmed to him that she would always love him. He asked to see her, but Darrah regretfully declined. She felt he would only convince her to stay in Albion, and she and Craig were both determined to believe that leaving was the best solution. She and Craig boarded a new vessel, named after their father, and set sail for the land of Aurora. Timoteo never saw Darrah, again.
When Brute saw the destruction that had come to Darrah’s family, as well as how torn it left her, he believed it was divine balance. Avo, he believed, was exacting payment for allowing Darrah to survive the events at the Witchwood Arena. He wandered Albion for a time, reflecting on the events surrounding the assassinations of Leroy Kreel and Vincent Hopkins. He was incapable of believing that the group’s survival was nothing short of a true miracle, and that Avo, for some unknown reason, had shown them a god’s favour. Brute became more and more spiritual as a result, all but giving up on his Hero heritage and capabilities. He served at the Temple of Avo, for a time, before meeting a young woman from Knothole Glade. The two fell in love, and raised a family in the territory of Windmill Hill. Brute’s strong spiritual beliefs lingered in the family, taught from parent to child, even as the worship in Albion shifted from Avo to the force of Light. It wasn’t often that a child in Brute’s bloodline was born with their ancestor’s Heroic Talent, and most of them did little with their power, thanks to the family’s strong religious beliefs. One fateful individual, however, by the name of Hannah, would do as her ancestor did, assisting another destiny-driven Hero in ending another great threat to Albion...
Gibbons and Marilyn remained together and fought the Anti-Hero League for most of the years that it remained active, using the group’s infighting and disorganization to their advantage. Once Marilyn was with child, however, she and Gibbons knew that they couldn’t go on harassing the League. It was bad enough that they were two lovers, putting themselves in danger, but now that they were becoming parents, they had responsibilities towards their child. Still, Gibbons went on one final quest, wanting to assassinate one of the six captains of the Anti-Hero League. Dressing as a League member, he snuck into the captain’s home, and slew him. He was discovered before he could escape, and made a last stand against the captain’s numerous bodyguards. Shouting at the top of his lungs, he called his own name, laughing while proclaiming himself to be a master assassin, and the greatest thief Albion had ever seen.
Dozens of League members went into the captain’s home, yet none came out, all slain by the Hero of Skill. Finally, the house was set fire to, but Gibbons escaped through a tunnel the captain had had created, in the cellar. Yet again, a secret escape route had saved his life. The captain’s death was blamed on an apparent agent of one of the other five captains, and the infighting grew even more intense. When Gibbons returned to Marilyn, she shouted, demanding that he never take such a risk, again. The fall of the League had become apparent by then, and as a father, he couldn’t take such risks, anymore. He was important to people, now...He was loved, by both Marilyn and their coming child. He had something to lose, now. If he died, others would suffer, for it. Gibbons just smiled. His friends would never believe it, but he settled down, living a somewhat quiet life with Marilyn in the growing city of Bowerstone. Thievery remained a hobby of his, but the town guards could never catch him. His bloodline is believed to have flourished, and his descendants were likely blessed with his Heroic Skill.
I suppose you must be wondering, by this point, about who exactly recorded this tale. I fear for the accuracy of Albion’s collective memory, and few historical texts are based in fact. Many more are lost to time, the events recorded, lost along with them. I believe it will be many years until the concept of recording history becomes prevalent, in Albion...So I took it upon myself to record these events, while I still possessed memory of the truth. In time, the Anti-Hero League will be a distant memory to the people of Albion, a shred of legend taken from Hero myths. The Heroes that caused the League’s downfall will likely be forgotten, entirely, their deeds speaking louder than the men and women, themselves. However, their accomplishment was grand enough to change the face of Albion, and I believe that that should never be lost to time.
Heroes, like myself, are a force of change...For ill or for good, that depends on the individual. I have lived for a very, very long time, and I have seen many names come and go...But you, you have found this tome, and read it through to the end. You can carry the truth of the Guild, and of Heroes, with you. And though few people may believe you, and though it may be too late to change anything, it can be enough for the truth to exist. Remember the Guild, the League, as well as the feats of both. Remember Timoteo, Bianca, Darrah, Gibbons, Marst, Calvin, Travis, Marilyn, and everyone else, as well as the events surrounding their lives...You may be the only one that ever does.

The End

(Author's Note - Thanks for reading Fall of the Guild^_^. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it:). Been a fan of the Fable series pretty much ever since I was a kid, when I played a friend's copy of the original Fable. I had originally planned for the ending to be much, much more tragic - including the deaths of Marilyn, Gibbons, Brute, and possibly even Bianca - but when it came time to do the final chapter, I just couldn't go through with killing off the characters I had grown so fond ofD:. Anyway, I hope the ending wasn't too anti-climactic for anyone^_^". Again, thanks for reading!)
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Fable : Fall of the Guild