Fable: The Fall Of Heroes.

[Wrongfire]

Fable: The Fall Of Heroes.

Hey I noticed this fan-fic thread and decided Id post mine. I don't work on it too often so don't expect any updates for awhile
Anyway, HI IM NEW TO PROJECT EGO!!!

Chapter 1: The Prologue

The last majestic purple rays of sunlight vanished over the ocean as darkness rushed across the town. The guards shifted uneasily as the approaching raiders delivered a loud war cry, Fierce with anger and desperation. This was one of many battles raging around them. And as Devan knew, this would be the deciding factor of Oakvale. He gripped his sword as the distance between them narrowed. This is it he thought as the first covered face came into view. Drawing his sword he yelled as loud as he could. Then followed by everyone else’s screams, it began.

At first all he could see was blood, for his reactions were completely instinct. Every swing and every parry was not controlled by him, but as if Avo grasped his sword and helped guide his attacks, everything was a blur, sounds, actions, and his thoughts. But after the initial bloodshed it was clear, clear that he was already wounded, clear that the rain that splattered his face was actually his own blood, clear that they might lose this battle if he gave up now, and clear that everything he held dear rested in the fate of this battle. Overcoming his pain he slew every man in his path. His sword never felt so light as he swung it with supreme ease. The battle seemed to be in there favor but he could never tell for sure, because every bandit he killed was always replaced with a slightly stronger man with a larger sword. However he soon realized that the men he fought were not getting any stronger at all, he was getting weaker. And after 10 minutes he had to pull back from his bloodlust slaughtering. After that every movement he made was planned and based upon his training as a guard.

His friends and neighbors started to fall back, there taste of victory was over and soon everyone was filled with there own wounds, some of his friends were already on the ground. He hoped for the best though. Maybe they are just unconscious he thought optimistically as he sliced the arm of his opponent. Then the order to retreat back to the center of town was yelled at him. Devan looked to the north as he ran, hoping that reinforcements from Bowerstone would soon arrive, however from the fire and smoke nothing was visible except carnage. But then, Devans eyes were drawn to a small helpless girl, It was the daughter of the woodsman Brom. He gasped as a bandit forcefully grabbed her and threw her onto the ground drawing his dagger and yelling at her. He charged at the bandit, and before he could react and stabbed him in the back, the bandit yelp but could achieve no more than a strange twitch before dying. He knelt next to the girl; she was crying profusely and wouldn’t move.
"Come on! You must come with me!" He yelled, but just as she stopped crying and faster than Devan could react he was ambushed. From all sides bandits surrounded him, He swung his sword wildly at a bandit, who was skinny and wearing a strange mask, but this man was skilled in swordsmanship and easily parried his blow, quickly countering with an overpowering strike to the head with the guard of his sword. Devan fell to the ground, despite his will to save Brom’s daughter he fell unconscious. In his mind he knew that they had already lost.

He wondered what had just happened when the vision returned to his eyes. His mind was spinning and he was bleeding terribly from numerous wounds. He first realized that it was dark, midnight, and that the whole town was on fire. He then shot up, grasping his sword and preparing for anything. He remembered that Broms daughter had been in danger, and set off in a limp towards the edge of town.
As he slowly reached the center of town he realized how many of the townsfolk lay dead. Many of his best friends were now lying in a pool of there own blood. It struck him harder than any wound he could have received when he saw 2 children dead, the one boy, Ted, always looked up to Devan, it had been two years since he saved the boy from a very harsh bully. Ever since then the boy always followed him and would cheerfully tell him about his day, He always like that kid. If he didn’t have a goal, he would have broke down right there, but there was a chance that Brom’s daughter may still yet live. And since there was no other point for him to be there, he decided it best to find her, no matter the cost.

On his way out of town he noticed something, a small figure was moving across the bridge above him. Broms Daughter! He thought as he quickly made his way over the burning crates and up the hill that lead to the bridge. The bridge started to crumble as he made his way across. It nearly broke underneath him but he quickly jumped out of it onto firm land. After catching his breath he saw the figure in the distance silhouetted against the fiery background, and then another figure rushing at him. Fear filled his heart as he started at a sprint towards the figures. Anxiety overcame him as he realized he would never make it. Just as the bandit figure raised his sword above his head to strike, a deafening blast echoed from behind him, the sound of crackling thunder and the blinding shock of lighting fill the air. It did not originate from the sky however, but from yet another figure that emanated power. Devan could only watch as he fell to his kneels in exhaustion. As he looked up, he could see that the small figure was not Brom’s daughter but instead it was a boy,

He couldn’t tell who specifically from his distance though. But after a few moments the both of them vanished in a flash of blue light. Devan gasped, he had never seen magic before and knew nothing of its abilities. And as he rose to his feet, looking around at his ruined home, he wondered what he would do with himself now. After thinking he finally decided his fate. He would search for Broms daughter. He hadn’t seen her body, which meant hope still existed for her. As he walked out of Oakvale, he managed to dig a grave for Ted. Then he set out on his journey, with nothing but his sword and his ambition.

Devan walked in a haze as darkness pass into dawn. The shadows emerged from their slumber and grew long against the ground. Many guards from the nearby traders post were running towards Oakvale, A little too late boys. Devan thought as he walked on.
About an hour later as Devan was walking he heard a lot of commotion going on down the road, quick to react he drew his sword and ran towards the sound. Surprise filled his face as the small traders camp Barrowfields was under attack by a small gang of bandits. With rage filling every fiber of his being, he charged with his bloodied sword raised high; they had killed his friends and now they would pay.

Feeling the rush of adrenalin he slammed the first bandit into the ground and quickly jammed his sword into his chest. Caught by surprise, the other bandits hesitated as they saw their fallen comrade on the ground. A strange smirk filled Devans face as he twisted his sword and chopped off the nearest bandits head. They rushed towards Devan, the tallest one swung his sword hard and fast, Devan easily parried the blow and delivered a devastating cut to the throat. Bloodlust filled him as he cut down several more bandits with ease. Before long the remaining bandits retreated towards the forest but not before Devan could tackle the slowest one onto the ground.

“Where’s Theresa!” he shouted at the man. He kept silent with a smile on his face. “I am warning you! Speak or I will kill you!” But the bandit only chuckled “Kill me then, It wont save that girl” And with and angry sneer Devan slit his throat. Wiping his bloodstained sword as he stood up and began to wonder where they would take her, and why? They left nobody else in the village alive, and what about the boy and that strange man? This made no sense. He pondered for a bit, but then attempted to help out the wounded traders. His sword was dented, his armor was ruined, he was already suffering from many wounds, and yet his journey had not even begun.

Hours passed as dawn rose into noon and Devan was finally ready to continue on his way. But before he left someone tugged on his shirt from behind, turning with a sigh Devan was faced with a hooded man who was fully armored in chain mail that was covered with leather and he carried a beautiful katana.
“Yes?” said Devan, a bit agitated. The man handed him a piece of cloth and left, a blood red scarf flowing behind him. Devan raised and eyebrow at the man, then he looked down at the piece of cloth. It was just a plain piece of cloth. What’s this for? He thought as he flipped it over. “You’ve got blood all over your face, wipe it off.” Devan started at the voice behind him and grab his sword, until he realized that it was the same guy. “How did you get behind me so fast?”
The man’s eyes glowed as he must have been smiling; it was hard to see because most of his face was bound. “It’s a skill we hero’s learn, I am Vrell.” He offered his hand. Devan wiped his face quickly then said “I am Devan, an Oakvale guard. Well, I was…” He looked down. Vrell smiled “There is still much in life, Oakvale will be rebuilt and all will be well, don’t you worry. May I ask where you are going?” This mans optimism made Devan mad. “What makes it any of your business? Just where are you heading?” Just as optimistic the man said “Well I was going to Oakvale but do to a recent chain of events, I am afraid I have nowhere to go.”
The breeze in the wind made all the trees dance and brought the sound of nature amongst the small traders post. The sun glistened in the sky, bringing a warmth that could improve anyone’s mood; Even Devans mood was improving as he told Vrell about the events that had occurred and about trying to find Theresa.

“Well if you ask me. Id say she’s probably dead right now. But hah, what do I know?” Devan glared at him for a second, he wouldn’t accept that in till he had proof. “Well I have delayed long enough, she might be alive, and in till I am proven otherwise ill search for her, Her father is probabl-“ Vrell cut him off “Her father was in Oakvale? He is dead, She might have escaped, but that was only one little girl.” Devan shook his head “No she didn’t escape, she was kidnapped. And Brom can’t die; he is strong and very smart, It’s impossible.” Even as he said those words he knew he was wrong. He could feel it.
“I will help you search for Theresa, It is wrong to condemn a life to possible slavery or death when there is a chance that that life may still yet live.” Devan thought about it. He wasn’t sure if he trusted this man. He had appeared out of nowhere, so what if he was a hero, so was Twinblade. He had never heard of Vrell before, he wasn’t famous. But he did have a very majestic aura about him.
“Very well, but if you betray me I will kill you without a second thought” Vrell smiled “If I betrayed you, you could do nothing to stop me” And Devan knew he had made quiet a big mistake. But he had agreed, and as he walked he kept his sword in his hand just in case.

 

[Wrongfire]

Re: Fable: The Fall Of Heroes.

Chapter 2: Darkwood’s Secrets

It took Devan quite a while before he finally relaxed around Vrell. Hard as it was, he seemed very loyal and at last his optimism was starting to make Devan happy. Vrell was as tall as Devan and was built the same way. But he was much more experienced and from what Devan could tell he was much older than him. His cloths betrayed his personality, it was mostly black leather with bright chainmail visible from some sides, but what caught the eye was a blood red scarf that was wrapped around Vrell’s neck and hung behind his back like a cape. The scarf was torn at the edges and if the light hit it right it looked almost as if a demon was jutting out of Vrell’s back.

“Vrell, where did you get that scarf?” Devan asked after a few hours of searching through the nearby woods. He hesitated at first and didn’t answer for several minutes but finally said. “It was my sons, he was killed by a very evil man” Devan looked down “Im sorry, it’s a very unique scarf if I may.” Vrell smirked “You don’t even know.” Devan look quizzically at him for a moment then went back to searching.

Darkness slowly approached, bringing the stars twinkling in the sky to view, bringing a sunset that painted the sky with a beautiful, warm reminder of the lovely day the sun brought. After searching for several more hours Devan finally suggestion they should get some rest.
“Where are you from Vrell?” Devan said as they journeyed towards Barrowfields, but before he could answer there was a deafening blast nearby. “Run…Now!” Said Vrell as he unsheathed his golden katana, it was too dark to see but Devan could tell that several figures were rushing at him, and at speeds he had never seen before. “No! I can fight.” He too readied his sword as the figures closed in. Bringing his sword above his head, he prepared to kill the figure in one slice. It was a mere seven feet away and he knew he would win this battle, but the figure bound at him faster than he could react, It knocked his sword out of his hand and a sharp pain and a great feeling of weightlessness took hold of him as he was vaulted into the air. Then in an instant a bright light filled his eyes as a great ball of fire was rushing at him.
No! He felt a sudden surge of power, something he had never felt before. He stopped himself in mid-air, and threw himself out of the way. He fell fast and smashed against the ground, knocking all of his breath and sight out of his body. He tasted warm blood when he gasped for air and blinked for eyesight, and for a moment he couldn’t tell what was happening. He got to his feet quickly and was greeted with a sword in the face; horror filled him as the figure’s sword was flung at his head. He wished he could feel the same power that had took him merely moments ago, but it did not appear. “Duck Fool!” Said Vrell as he flew through the air cutting down the figure just as the sword connected with Devans shoulder. He screamed and fell to the ground clutching a horrible gash on his bicep. “This is no time to lay around, get up now! There are still more!” Vrell help him up and dashed towards the nearby road.

Devans view was very cloudy and he could not tell what was happening, but several times he was dropped and Vrell would fight someone momentarily and then pick him back up and dash off again. An hour later he was fully aware and capable, his arm was still horribly wounded. Now that he could run at his full speed they covered much ground a lot faster and soon found themselves in the deep dead forests of Darkwood. Devan groaned “This isn’t good; I’ve been in Darkwood before, this is a terrible place.”
“Really? I didn’t know… Don’t worry lets just keep moving we can handle any Darkwood baddies we run into.” Vrell was completely calm and collect, not a shot of fear in his eyes. Yet, this did not console Devan. “I won’t take another step without a sword.” Vrell quickly tossed him a rusty gladius, Devan fumbled with it for a moment and nodded.
“Do you have any Idea where we are or where we need to go?” Said Devan nervously as they roamed passed a overturned wagon filled with blood and corpses. “No, but it is good that we are lost, because a bandit camp isn’t easily found if your searching for it.”

Several hours passed and they came upon a giant stone door. It was imprinted with runes of the ancient empire, covered in vines, and glowing in the midnight moon the figure of a bearded face could be seen in the middle, Devan reached out and touched it. “Wow, what is this Vrell?” He asked, but Vrell was nowhere to be found. “Vrell... Vrell!? This isn't funny!” But no reply, he looked back at the door and horror filled him. A cloaked man was standing in the now open door. “ Oh but isn’t it?” He rushed at Devan with frightful speed. The feel of the air was like the touch of death was all around him and as the creature came closer it only got worse. “Do you dare unlock the mysteries of my empire!?” The creature said as it rose its glowing sword to attack. Devan prepared, whatever this thing was, it wouldn’t take him down; He wouldn’t be stopped here. And as there swords met the world around them echoed with a blast of doom. Repercussions of secrets long past. Devan was thrown onto the ground from the force, he rose his sword to block the oncoming attack as the creature rose his sword. “Now you will die fool!” And the sword came down, filling Devans face with horror, He couldn’t move, and right as the sword cut his face, he was alone, in the middle of the forest, lying next to the ominous door.

Vrell could feel power surging through him as he fought off the attackers. He gathered all of his will power and allowed it to surge from his body in a wave of pure fiery death, Every undead fell to the ground as they burst into flames, roasting the minuscule plant life in the area.
Several larger undead were out of range and closed in on Vrell, but he was much stronger and completely eviscerated them.
“Well well, if it isn’t the ******* hero from long ago” Vrell spun around to be faced with the man who killed his son… It was Jack of Blades. “You son of a *****! I will kill you!” He unleashed the rest of his will energy in a massive bolt of lighting that stuck Jack in the chest. He stumbled and got up slowly. “I’m very disappointed in you Vrell, how would your son feel if he knew how powerless you are?” Rage filled Vrell as he prepared to rush at him.
“Soon I will be the most powerful being to ever exist and I will make sure you will suffer just like your son.” Vrell lost control and leaped at him, his attacks were faster and more powerful than ever before, it seemed like time slowed as he threw attack after attack only to be parried or dodged by Jack. His energy quickly drained as he desperately tried to get through Jacks hardened defenses. He swung a weak blow that Jack flicked away and sent Vrell to the ground, placing the tip of his sword on Vrell’s neck he said. “Maybe you would like it in my lovely prison?” Vrell looked angrily into jacks mask in which there were no true eyes, just darkness.
“Drop it. Or you die” Vrell look past jack. It was Devan.

Jack let out a long cold laugh that chilled the spine of both of them. “Do you expect to stop me?” He slammed his foot into Vrell’s face with enough force to knock him unconscious. “Well if this is how you want to go...” Jack spared no time in attacking, as soon as he finished his sentence he unleashed a deadly blast from his black cleaver. He then sprinted with his sword raised. He would not show him any mercy; he didn’t know the meaning of the word. Devan rolled out of the way of the blast and brought his sword to parry Jacks and then for several minutes they shared blows in attempts to bash down each others defenses, at first Devan seemed to have the upper hand, but as Jack began to gain momentum Devan couldn’t stop him, he took one step back, then another, and another in till his back was against a tree, through a desperate effort Devan lunged with his sword seemingly faster than sound itself, it connected with Jack's torso, and if his sword was any kind of decent then it would have horribly wounded him, but unfortunately he only managed to pierce Jacks armor. “You are not as weak as I thought…” and with that Jack disappeared in a flash of blue light.
Devan fell to the ground and coughed up blood. How do I keep doing things like this? I have no control over it. It must be magic though, there is no other explanation. He thought.

Vrell woke up many hours later to find Devan eating some bread. “What happened? Did you kill him?!” he looked around franticly to check for any bodies. But only the undead that he had killed earlier remained. “No, he got away…” he said with disappointment “Vrell… You know Will Powers right?”
Vrell steadied himself “Yes, I know a few… All heroes are trained in will powers, it’s an important part of being strong, but my specialty lies in stealth…” Devan finished his meal and looked to the sky, it was dawn and the sky was a bright orange though a bit dulled from the 'Darkwood Effect'.
The rest of the morning Devan and Vrell discussed Will powers and how they worked. Devan told him about the strange incidents he had and found out that it seemed he was gifted with will powers, but since he was not educated in it he couldn’t use them when he wanted to.
“It’s rare for someone to be able to use Will powers without being taught how; you must have a knack for it.” Devan looked at his hands and imagined how strong he could be with magic to do battle with.
“Can you teach me how to use these powers? I mean… If you don’t mind”
Vrell pondered for a bit, got up and looked to the north. “It seems we have attracted the attention of some very powerful enemies, and I wouldn’t rule out the possibility that Theresa is dead. However if you still wish to search for her, then I will teach you the few powers I know.” Devan took a drink from his flask. “I know I dragged you into this, but I am glad you’re willing to help.” Vrell looked confused “Dragged me into this?” He laughed “If I remember correctly I decided I would come with you, not the other way around!” He helped Devan up and they both looked over into the dark forest that didn’t seem to enjoy the fact that it was daytime. “I suggest we head towards Bowerstone, I know it’s a long trip, but we need a larger search party. If Theresa is alive now, she will be alive for awile longer, I am sure of it.” For a few minutes they stared at the impending danger of the deeper realms of Darkwood when at last they both made there way into its ominous grasp.

Walking down the dark paths of inner Darkwood wasnt easy, they were constantly being attacked by some small critter, usually insects, and Devans will was slowly draining. The afternoon dragged on as the heat increased but the light got dimmer, and the forest grew thicker. Limbs would strike them from nowhere, haunting sounds would drift nearby, and the moisture reached levels of irritation that caused their skin to rash. This was Darkwood, and they had a long journey to trudge in it.
Vrell occasionaly glanced at Devan but never enganged in conversation, his mind was elsewhere. Things were not right, In fact it seemed as if a great evil was brewing. Jack of blades, A legend, had shown his face again, and almost killed him. What did Jack want with him?
As Vrells mind was in thought, so was Devans, but for other reasons. He kept thinking about how much things had changed in such a small amount of time, how just a week ago he was living the good life, the life of a guard, the life of a local hero, and the life of a happy young man. And now, not 10 days after hes searching for one of the only surviving citizens of Oakvale. And the search wasnt going well. For the rest of the day he spent his time practicing simple will power excersizes, like light minipulation and increasing or decreasing the temperature of a rock. Two more days pasted in silence while the two of them wandered through the forest, it seemed too quiet; for Darkwood that is. Occasionaly the local balverine would attack, but they would always defeat it, and then a day later more would come, so was the pattern.Yet on the third day things changed, in a strange way...

Devan awoke with a sore back, the balverines wernt so light on him yesterday and after marching all around a low lying swamp he was pretty much done with Darkwood, forever. Unfortuanetly they both still had quite a long way to go, 2 Days according to Vrell.
Vrells mood was improving as he woke up a few hours after Devan, impressed that Devan awoke before him.
"So, were almost out of this forsaken forest, what are your plans Devan?" The light from the morning sun attempted to fight through the dead limbs and akward surroundings giving the terrain a very strange twilight appearance, which to both of their opinions wasnt too terribly ugly.
Devan was checking their food supplys, grimly, when he answered, "I dont know anymore. I say we head to Bowerstone, get some help, and return to Oakvale. Besides, what bandit clan in their right mind would have a camp in Darkwood?" They both packed up their camp and prepared to head off yet again. On the way out of the small clearing a small figure burst out of the bushes ahead of them.
"Look out, its probably more of those balverines". whispered Vrell as he drew his sword. Devan did the same as the figure scrambled up to them, it wasnt a balverine at all, in fact it was young man who began to frantically sprint towards them. They prepared for an attack, but as the figure reached them an arrow soared out of the bushes, Devan attempted to deflect the shot with his force push, but the man was out of range and was struck in the shoulder. He screamed as he stumbled and collided with a tree, falling limply, as he went unconsious. Vrell ran up to heal him as Devan began to loose arrows into the general direction of the attack. Soon enough large round figures burst out of cover and began their attack.
"Hobbes!" Shouted Devan to Vrell as they both started to defend themselves. The hobbes came in large packs, Devan killed many with his sword
not trusting himeself with his willpowers just yet, but he was doing very well, hobbes were the most simple minded and weak fighters he had ever fought, which was good considering the cirumstances. By battles end Vrell had killed twice as many hobbes as Devan, without a stratch but a bit winded they both went up to the man. He was breathing heavily, barely consious he desperatley called them over.
"You must help my friend! Please, she was taken by the hobbes to their base!" he gasped as he fell unconsious yet again. Devan looked at Vrell.
"Well it seems we are gonna have a bit of a detour on out travels now" He said sheathing his sword. Vrell nodded as he used a complex healing power.
"Lets start searching" Vrell said as he stood, looking up at the hot, painted sky.

 

[queenofdisco]

Re: Fable: The Fall Of Heroes.

Sorry for the necro, but wrongfire are you gonna post the rest of this, as on your site you have another chapter don't you?