The last time we saw our follically fantastic Fable heroes, the heroes (minus the Hero) held a trial for the Witch Doctor. Despite the horrendous acts committed by the Witch Doctor and the Enchantress, Dr. Wolf and the Wizard explain that the Witch Doctor may have only acted under the influence of the Enchantress. Explaining that it would be immoral to execute or dimensionally banish the Witch Doctor if they could not determine his motivation for the atrocities he committed, they decided to instead maroon him on an island, reasoning that the Witch Doctor was powerful enough to subsist. Captain Crimson is tasked with depositing the Witch Doctor before once again taming the wild waves. The Gunslinger and the Wizard return back to Franklin, where the Wizard has a proposition for the Gunslinger…
The Gunslinger leans on a hitching post, watching the hustle and bustle of Franklin. The town is alive, well, and thriving. The Gunslinger chews on a toothpick, his grizzled gaze over-looking the goings-on in the city. The Gunslinger sees a woman walking down the street, her child running ahead of her, his imagination running wild. It takes the Gunslinger back to another time, another place.
The Gunslinger is jarred out of his daydream to see the Wizard leaning against the wall of a storefront.
“You wouldn’t happen to know the secret to that whole time travel, dimension thing yet?” asks the Gunslinger.
“Not quite,” muses the Wizard, “where will you go from here?”
“I was thinking about heading back to the West,” begins the Gunslinger, “I like it there. It’s easy for someone with my skills to carve out a living. I just wonder if you will be able to get a hold of me?”
“Well Gunslinger,” begins the Wizard, “I will be able to find you, however, I wonder if you might consider staying here awhile longer and providing your services.”
The Gunslinger leans back on the hitching post, he reaches up and thoughtfully removes the toothpick. He turns it over in his finger, examining the slender sliver of wood, flicking it away into the alley.
“I’m listening,” says the Gunslinger, “Proceed.”
“The Enchantress and the Witch Doctor laid waste to the town guard in their invasion. It will take time to recruit and train a new guard for the town. If it were just protecting the town, I could handle it with the help of the Inventor, the Barkeep, and the Scribe. However, the greater area of Franklin suffers from the absence of Franklin’s peacekeepers. There are several small towns on the outskirts of Franklin that have fallen prey to various insidious forces. I understand that your usual quarry consists of outlaws and ruffians, however, some of the foes may fall outside your usual repertoire. However, the city of Franklin and its citizens would appreciate your help to bring the greater Franklin area back into the control of the city.”
The Gunslinger stares around at the town. He knows how dangerous the far reaches of a town can be. Bounty hunters live on the outskirts in the West. Plus, it would keep him close by so that he would not be difficult to find when the Wizard develops his powers to the point he could return to his home and his family.
“I don’t think there’s any harm in staying out here for a spell and helping out the good people of Franklin,” says the Gunslinger with a glint in his eye.
The Hero leaves his campsite following the strange sight that disturbed his peaceful sleep. He crosses the field heading towards the woodline. He crouches low to the ground, trying to create as small of a silhouette as possible as he enters the woods. The full moon lights up the forest, almost as bright as the light of day. The Hero steadily makes his way through the forest, sneakily making his way through the thicket, trying to make as little noise as possible. The Hero isn’t sure what the object is and therefore cannot say for certain whether the object is friend or foe.
The cool night air chills the cold sweat rolling down the Hero’s neck. His hair stands on end, his skin bumpy with goosebumps. The Hero’s senses are on full alert. The Hero pauses briefly to try and catch the sound of anything moving up ahead. After the cacophony of the crash, relative silence, the mild chirping of crickets, and the call of the whippoorwill set the Hero even further on edge.
A couple hundred yards into the forest, the Hero finds a deep rut carved into the ground with several groups of flames sprouting up in the wake of whatever fell from the sky. Whatever the object was, it cut a large hole straight into the heart of the forest. Several small to medium-sized trees have been snapped like twigs, twisted, bent, and broken in the destructive wake of the fallen object. The acrid smell of burning ground wafts through the air.
The Hero follows the gash in the earth until he comes upon the strange, unidentified object. He raises his sword. A large cigar-shaped object lies in a crater. The engines still glow orange with residual heat, no longer glowing the bright blue that had drawn the Hero’s attention. The back of the object has three spaces for engines, but one of the engines had been obliterated. Crimson fins, like the fletching of an arrow, jut out from the back of the object.
The Hero cautiously walks around the body of the object. The hull is gun-metal gray with a continuation of the crimson accenting. The hull had once been polished to a shine, however, several scorch marks marring the hull. The front of the hull has gold-colored trim, complete with a nose cone. A circular porthole window is positioned towards the front of the object. Despite the violent crash, the glass merely exhibits spiderweb cracks. The Hero walks over to the window to look into the object. He places his hand on the window, cutting the glare so he can peer in. Suddenly a gloved hand slaps the window, and slowly slides down the glass…
Narrated by Brandon Warner