Peter David - Fable: Blood Ties

Table of Contents

There was a rustling of trees from overhead, and something suddenly dropped directly in front of me, landing in a crouch. It looked like a gargoyle come to life. Its nose and ears were pointed. It was wearing overlarge shoes, leggings, a loose shirt, and a conical hat perched atop its head. It was hard to tell how tall it was since it was so low to the ground, but I didnt peg it as being more than three feet high. Still, one couldnt judge how dangerous something was in Albion simply by its size, or lack thereof. Instantly, I started to reach for my pistol, not knowing what the thing in front of me was and not caring.

And then I stood there, stunned, my hand hovering over the butt of my pistol, because the thing opened its mouth and the voice of my savior emerged from it.

Oh, we could be best friends, it said, if I liked people with arses for faces. Then it nodded toward the pistol I was still reaching for but hadnt quite gotten around to drawing. Nice big weapon there. Compensating for something?

Youre what saved me? I said, incredulous. What are you?

I had thought that it couldnt have sounded more disdainful before. I was wrong. Dont you know anything, aside from how to make yourself an easy target? Im a gnome, you ignorant twat.

FABLE: THE BALVERINE ORDER
FABLE: BLOOD TIES

Fable is a game that is predicated on numerous choices that players can make. Consequently, no two playing experiences are ever alike, and the world of Albion is a highly individual one, unique to each player in some aspect or another.

In this novel, we have elected to give a window into one particular incarnation as it was left after the events of Fable III.

If your personal world of Albion happens to match up, then well-done you.

If you have already gone or (if you have yet to visit Albion) should happen to wind up eventually going in other directions, then thats brilliant.

There is no absolute, one-size-fits-all incarnation of Albion, andfor the purpose of this talewe simply present you with one version of the many that are available to you.

IN MY DEFENSE, I HAD NO IDEA SHE WAS married.

Granted, I could have asked. I would have to think, though, that under such circumstances the responsibility to clarify ones marital status certainly has to rest on the womans shoulders. As it turned out, the only thing resting on this particular womans shoulders were my calves, for we were somewhat entangled at the point when a loud banging resounded from the door. An angry male voice bellowed, Jennifer! He did not sound like he was going to be a good sport about the whole misunderstanding.

This entire business began, as such things typically do, in one of the main pubs in Bowerstone Market: the Cock in the Crown. The place got a bit bashed up during the calamitous battle with dark forces that you might have heard about. Also, if youre reading this narrative, then you certainly know that I, Ben Finnadventurer, soldier of fortune, occasional thiefwas instrumental in turning back a wave of evil that threatened to wash over the whole of Albion. Yes, yes, our ruler likewise had some small hand in stemming the tide. But you know what? This is my story, not our leaders. When our illustrious rulers own memoirs are eventually made available to the public, you can read those as well and see whose tale is more convincing. Or, at the very least, the more entertaining.

I was relaxing in a corner of the pub, contemplating all that had happened recently, and all that was going to be happening, and regrettably not having a good deal of luck with the latter. I have many great and remarkable attributes, but planning for an extended future is not one of them. There are wonders galore in Albion, with lands of intrigue and amazement, but life can be harsh, unfair, and tragically short. To people such as Heroes, how they live that life is extremely important. They have deeply rooted philosophies about how their deeds or misdeeds shape them and affect their lives. Do not misunderstand : I have as much respect for the rapidly dwindling, nearly nonexistent profession of Hero as anyone else. Yet I am sometimes forced to wonder about the benefits of being a Hero, or even a fundamentally decent person. I dont know if youve noticed, but random monsters and dark forces beyond mortal ken tend to snuff out both the virtuous and the vice-ridden in equally random measure.

Which is a roundabout way of saying that making long-term plans seems to be an utter waste of time when one has no idea what will constitute the long term. Why worry about the future? The future invariably holds our deaths in some way, shape, or form, so its far wiser to live for the moment.

I beg your indulgence for my rambling and happenstance style. I am something of a vagabond by trade, so its only natural that my recollections and ruminations tend to wander as readily as my feet.

So: the girl. Jennifer by name, which you should remember if you were paying the least bit of attention. Full, curvaceous, and load-bearing hips, and breasts stretched tight under her blouse in a way that indicated they were happy to see me. I eventually got around to inspecting her face. Most men tend to study the face first, then inspect the body. I say more fool them. If the girl has a pleasing face but an unappealing body, theres nothing you can do about it. If, on the other hand, the reverse is true, well, thats why the gods invented dim lighting.

Fortunately, Jennifers face, while not likely to win any beauty contests, was appealing enough. It was melonround, pale, and freckled, and topped with a mountain of red hair. I like redheads. Theyre often as fiery as the color of their tresses suggests, and theyre far fewer in number than other women. She also had a come-hither look in her brown eyes as she sashayed over to my table and asked coquettishly if the seat opposite me was taken.

I gestured toward it invitingly, and she didnt sit so much as insinuate herself into it. There was no doubt in my mind what she was interested in, and I was quite confident that I would be perfectly happy to provide it on an as-needed basis, completely gratis. Indeed, it is pretty much the only one of my services for which I do not charge. One must be charitable.

It was not as if we immediately sprinted off somewhere and did the deed. Even though the conclusion was foregone, there was still the verbal dance to be done. She asked about my life story. I provided an extremely abbreviated version since it is so laced with tragedy that it is unlikely to put any save the most morbid of women in the mood for horizontal congress. I confined myself to the highlights: a soldier of fortune who struck out at a young age, armed with only his wits and a remarkable ability to hit whatever targets he was aiming at even should they be at distances unattainable for other marksmen. I described in short, quick strokes how I had encountered our noble ruler during a time of trial, and how our paths had continued to intertwine until they ultimately converged in Bowerstone for the great and terrible battle that had raged through the city.