weirdkidinabox
Eccentric Genious
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Fan Fiction- Tales from the Dark Age
Okay since the concept of introducing a fanfiction area to the site was mentioned I have been working on a series of fanfictions all, obviously based on Fable. All these fanfictions are interlinked and based on what I call- The Dark Age. This is the first short story I have finished for the Tales from the Dark Age fanfiction. There are three different parts to the Dark Age, these are explained below. And below that is the actual story itself. Enjoy, comment, discuss, theorise about the possible plot and all that. All three of the stories make up what I call the "Dark Age Chronicles" and its going to be a while before the Chronicles are totally complete. I know the breakdown of it may seem confusing but please if you want anything explained just ask.
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Tales from the Dark Ages: The First Incursion
His feet pounded the cold concrete flooring of the Guild halls, his heart raced inside his chest, as if it was about to explode forth and leave him dead and bleeding. His plate-mail armour chinked as he careered onwards down the slim corridors and dimly lit hallways. He couldn’t hear anything, all the sound had been completely and unabashedly eclipsed by the thumping inside his chest, the fear inside his head. With a moments notice he lunged forth from the end of the corridor into the library foyer just before the hallway he exited exploded and was consumed in a sea of violent flames and collapsing stone. Girders of thick oak which once supported the upper levels of the guild creaked and groaned in an effort to maintain their strength. The Hero closed his eyes as a dust of cold ocean blue dispersed from his body and washed over the flames extinguishing them. He grappled to his feet, once again now he took off like lightning through the guild, searching and looking at every turn. As his body whirled around a door his fingers gripped the door frame, his nail caught loosely upon a sliver of metal which protruded from the heavy set oak, it tore his nail clean off. He ignored the pain, pushing it down inside him, the rage and frustration building he moved onwards. He was getting closer now to the young ones. The trainee apprentices. He bolted down the final corridor, his lungs exhaled a final gasp of breath as his hand reached for his blade. The sound of screams louder than his heart beat could be heard now. His heart raced faster as his blade, now unsheathed, raised to the air. He burst through the door, it swung heavily against the wall. Before him lay the bodies of several of the young apprentices, three more cowered in the corner. He turned his head away for a mere moment in disgust. That was all it took. He felt cold steel pierce his plate-mail armour. The serrated edges of a sword drove deep into his side. He felt the blood run free from his flesh as his mouth gaped wide open. With a thrust he whirled his body round, his sword scathing the ground before meeting the skull of one of Orem’s minions. It scalped the wicked creature and with a ear piercing scream it collapsed to the ground. The blade still embedded in the Heroes side he gasped for breath as he took hold of the blade and dragged it from the wound. As the end of the blade exited his body the torn skin and ripped muscle gushed blood inside his armour. He fell to his knees,
“Avo give me strength.”
His words seemed in vain as a voice echoed in behind him,
“Your god is dead. You pray to your Lord Orem now!”
With a moments instantaneous reaction the Heroes blade once again raised as he fell to his back on the ground just in time to block an attack from another of Orem’s minions. With all the force he could muster through his muscles he pushed his assailants sword back and struggled to his feet. The warm blood trickled down his skin, past his thigh and down his leg. He didn’t have much time, the last of his potions were gone, given to a villager just before he entered the Guild. Forcing himself back against a wall, his vision becoming blurred, he thrust himself off the wall, his blade raised,
“FOR THE GUILD AND FOR AVO!”
The scream of the man, like a possessed worshipper of Skorm, resounded through the Guild, through the flames, as his blade drove forth and pierced the ragged dull green scales of the minion of Orem. The creatures eyes, dull, black and listless widened as its mouth gawked open. Blood stained jagged teeth snapped at the Hero. Thrusting the sword further into the creature the Hero tore a free hand from the hilt of the blade and grappled with the mouth of the beast. Catching a grip of the bottom jaw of the minion he was unprepared for the strength of the devilish bastard as it clamped its jaws down, piercing and amputating the Heroes index finger. With a roar of strength the Hero thrust his hand down. A teeth cringing crack and a shatter of bone could be heard as the minions jaw snapped. With a final grunt the Hero once again took hold of the beasts jaw and this time, with no mercy, no regret, he tore it right off. The beast fell backwards, the sword still embedded into its chest.
“I worship before the alter of Avo, your false god Orem will fall to the Heroes of Albion soon enough.”
Tearing his blade from the minion he gazed, uncaring, at his missing index finger. He was to die soon enough, any Hero knew the wound that festered in his side was there not to be healed, but to send him to met the god Avo. He didn’t have much time, he quickly gathered his blade and turning to the trainee apprentices he steadied himself,
“We must go, the Guild Master awaits your safe return.”
The three apprentices, all no older then fourteen, merely nodded, their peers who had fallen valiantly had earned their well deserved place at Avo’s side. With the apprentices in tow the Hero trudged onwards through the burning enflamed halls of the guild, once again the wood creaked. Reaching the rear exit of the Guild the apprentices made for the woods, the sanctum of the Guild Master. The Hero paused for a moment, he turned to the Guild, people rushed in and out with buckets of water to try and douse the fires that raged inside. Orem had gone too far, he had destroyed towns and killed many before this, he had defied the gods but treachery against the Guild of this magnitude would mean all out war. A searing noise echoed distant through the countryside, a high pitched whistle. Orem’s catapults at Look Point were launching again. The Hero struggled as best he could to reach the woods, he stumbled at the archery range and there he knelt, his blade jagged into the ground, vertical, his arm slung around the hilt, the only thing keeping him upright. He turned for a moment, one last Heroes last glance at the Guild before Avo took him. The last he seen was a mass fireball tear through the eastern tower of the Guild, the stone collapsed, the roofing toppled. The Heroes held knelt as he uttered his final words,
“My Avo save us. The Dark Age has truly begun.”
Okay since the concept of introducing a fanfiction area to the site was mentioned I have been working on a series of fanfictions all, obviously based on Fable. All these fanfictions are interlinked and based on what I call- The Dark Age. This is the first short story I have finished for the Tales from the Dark Age fanfiction. There are three different parts to the Dark Age, these are explained below. And below that is the actual story itself. Enjoy, comment, discuss, theorise about the possible plot and all that. All three of the stories make up what I call the "Dark Age Chronicles" and its going to be a while before the Chronicles are totally complete. I know the breakdown of it may seem confusing but please if you want anything explained just ask.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Tales from the Dark Ages: The First Incursion
His feet pounded the cold concrete flooring of the Guild halls, his heart raced inside his chest, as if it was about to explode forth and leave him dead and bleeding. His plate-mail armour chinked as he careered onwards down the slim corridors and dimly lit hallways. He couldn’t hear anything, all the sound had been completely and unabashedly eclipsed by the thumping inside his chest, the fear inside his head. With a moments notice he lunged forth from the end of the corridor into the library foyer just before the hallway he exited exploded and was consumed in a sea of violent flames and collapsing stone. Girders of thick oak which once supported the upper levels of the guild creaked and groaned in an effort to maintain their strength. The Hero closed his eyes as a dust of cold ocean blue dispersed from his body and washed over the flames extinguishing them. He grappled to his feet, once again now he took off like lightning through the guild, searching and looking at every turn. As his body whirled around a door his fingers gripped the door frame, his nail caught loosely upon a sliver of metal which protruded from the heavy set oak, it tore his nail clean off. He ignored the pain, pushing it down inside him, the rage and frustration building he moved onwards. He was getting closer now to the young ones. The trainee apprentices. He bolted down the final corridor, his lungs exhaled a final gasp of breath as his hand reached for his blade. The sound of screams louder than his heart beat could be heard now. His heart raced faster as his blade, now unsheathed, raised to the air. He burst through the door, it swung heavily against the wall. Before him lay the bodies of several of the young apprentices, three more cowered in the corner. He turned his head away for a mere moment in disgust. That was all it took. He felt cold steel pierce his plate-mail armour. The serrated edges of a sword drove deep into his side. He felt the blood run free from his flesh as his mouth gaped wide open. With a thrust he whirled his body round, his sword scathing the ground before meeting the skull of one of Orem’s minions. It scalped the wicked creature and with a ear piercing scream it collapsed to the ground. The blade still embedded in the Heroes side he gasped for breath as he took hold of the blade and dragged it from the wound. As the end of the blade exited his body the torn skin and ripped muscle gushed blood inside his armour. He fell to his knees,
“Avo give me strength.”
His words seemed in vain as a voice echoed in behind him,
“Your god is dead. You pray to your Lord Orem now!”
With a moments instantaneous reaction the Heroes blade once again raised as he fell to his back on the ground just in time to block an attack from another of Orem’s minions. With all the force he could muster through his muscles he pushed his assailants sword back and struggled to his feet. The warm blood trickled down his skin, past his thigh and down his leg. He didn’t have much time, the last of his potions were gone, given to a villager just before he entered the Guild. Forcing himself back against a wall, his vision becoming blurred, he thrust himself off the wall, his blade raised,
“FOR THE GUILD AND FOR AVO!”
The scream of the man, like a possessed worshipper of Skorm, resounded through the Guild, through the flames, as his blade drove forth and pierced the ragged dull green scales of the minion of Orem. The creatures eyes, dull, black and listless widened as its mouth gawked open. Blood stained jagged teeth snapped at the Hero. Thrusting the sword further into the creature the Hero tore a free hand from the hilt of the blade and grappled with the mouth of the beast. Catching a grip of the bottom jaw of the minion he was unprepared for the strength of the devilish bastard as it clamped its jaws down, piercing and amputating the Heroes index finger. With a roar of strength the Hero thrust his hand down. A teeth cringing crack and a shatter of bone could be heard as the minions jaw snapped. With a final grunt the Hero once again took hold of the beasts jaw and this time, with no mercy, no regret, he tore it right off. The beast fell backwards, the sword still embedded into its chest.
“I worship before the alter of Avo, your false god Orem will fall to the Heroes of Albion soon enough.”
Tearing his blade from the minion he gazed, uncaring, at his missing index finger. He was to die soon enough, any Hero knew the wound that festered in his side was there not to be healed, but to send him to met the god Avo. He didn’t have much time, he quickly gathered his blade and turning to the trainee apprentices he steadied himself,
“We must go, the Guild Master awaits your safe return.”
The three apprentices, all no older then fourteen, merely nodded, their peers who had fallen valiantly had earned their well deserved place at Avo’s side. With the apprentices in tow the Hero trudged onwards through the burning enflamed halls of the guild, once again the wood creaked. Reaching the rear exit of the Guild the apprentices made for the woods, the sanctum of the Guild Master. The Hero paused for a moment, he turned to the Guild, people rushed in and out with buckets of water to try and douse the fires that raged inside. Orem had gone too far, he had destroyed towns and killed many before this, he had defied the gods but treachery against the Guild of this magnitude would mean all out war. A searing noise echoed distant through the countryside, a high pitched whistle. Orem’s catapults at Look Point were launching again. The Hero struggled as best he could to reach the woods, he stumbled at the archery range and there he knelt, his blade jagged into the ground, vertical, his arm slung around the hilt, the only thing keeping him upright. He turned for a moment, one last Heroes last glance at the Guild before Avo took him. The last he seen was a mass fireball tear through the eastern tower of the Guild, the stone collapsed, the roofing toppled. The Heroes held knelt as he uttered his final words,
“My Avo save us. The Dark Age has truly begun.”
Wow... 
