Followed Home

The last time we saw our bearded adventurers, tragedy struck. The Wizard and the Inventor fall through the floor of the throne room, sending the heroes into full retreat ahead of the dwarven horde. The fellowship narrowly escapes with help from the Gunslinger and the Mystic Wave’s fire support. The heroes paddle off heavy-hearted over the loss of their dear Wizard and Inventor. The heroes know not, however, that not only have they failed to retrieve the Time Changer, but that the Enchantress and Witch Doctor still survive holding immense power. The threat of the power-mad Enchantress still looms over the Fable-verse…

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The Gunslinger stares down at his boots as the Mystic Wave lurches over the waves, sailing away from the mysterious dwarven isle towards home. The island had disappeared across the horizon a little while ago. Despite escaping the harrowing experience, the loss of the Wizard and the Inventor sucked the air out of everyone aboard the ship, leaving them to toil through their duties in silence. Even Captain Crimson, usually rambunctious and brash, quietly guides the Wave across the waves.

A glimmer of light flickers across the horizon, catching the Gunslinger’s gaze for only a moment. He turns to look. Several minutes pass and the Gunslinger is just about to turn around but is stopped by a larger, brighter flash. As quickly as the light appeared, however, it disappears. A cold wind blows harshly from the direction of the light. The Gunslinger leans against the edge of the crow’s nest pondering what the flash meant. 

“It’s probably the destruction of that blasted island,” thinks the Gunslinger to himself. The Gunslinger has had enough magic for one day. It seems like there shouldn’t be any magic left in the world. His one chance to regain his former life… gone. The most magical person he ever met, literally, gone as well. The Gunslinger turns from the horizon they are putting behind them, towards the new horizon. A grim horizon that grows dimmer and dimmer as the downcast crew continues on.

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The sun sits high over the hustle and bustle of Franklin. Children are playing in the streets, as carts haul supplies to and fro, carrying goods and supplies from the farthest reaches of the kingdom and beyond. Kitchen knives from the craftsmen of Cremouth, vegetables from the backwater town of Dey, textbooks from the University of Ostricester, and even bourbon from the town of Lock. Sailors walk up the hill from the docks, savoring the solid ground beneath their feet, the scent of fresh food cooking from restaurants and taverns, and the sight of women which long they craved at sea. A farrier works fastidiously, scraping compacted mud and excess hoof away, leaving a meticulously shaped hoof. 

A pair of cloaked individuals make their way down the crowded street, blending in with the hustle and bustle of the buzzing town center. The crowd flows in and around the town square, unaware of the monsters in their midst. The Enchantress looks at the Witch Doctor and nods her head. She raises a fist engulfed in green flame. This display begins to draw the attention of the assiduous townfolk. Several scatter, fearful for their lives. Others stand frozen in fear. The Enchantress raises her other fist, now too consumed by raging green flames. The ground around her begins to blaze, the emerald green flames shooting towards the sky.

“Go forth, Witch Doctor,” purs the Enchantress, “Show them the power that now presides over them.”

The Enchantress stretches out her hand toward the Witch Doctor. A tendril of green flames wisps its way toward the Witch Doctor, wrapping itself around his muscular torso, traveling all the way up around his neck and around his head. The tendrils rage, glowing brighter and brighter until the Witch Doctor is just a silhouette, backlit by the raging inferno. The Witch Doctor begins convulsing and grabbing at his body, slapping at the flames that are licking up and down his body. The Witch Doctor doubles over briefly, then suddenly throws his head back, loosing a bellow that rattles the windows throughout the town. His eyes burn with the same emerald green as the flames. The villagers begin to notice the Witch Doctor’s change in stature. The already tall and muscular Witch Doctor begins to grow taller and taller until he stands even with the roofs of the surrounding buildings (around 17 to 18 feet tall). 

The remaining villagers who were frozen in fear now take off in all directions as fast as their legs will carry them. The Witch Doctor turns around staring at the town and all the fleeing villagers all around him and then looks down at his hands. An evil glint shines from his eye as a green fireball forms in his hand.

“Bow before us, or be destroyed,” bellows the Witch Doctor issuing the chilling ultimatum.

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The Mystic Wave paddles toward home, its crew still down-trodden. Fortunately for the crew, the provisions that they packed more than sufficed for the journey, and the stores of bourbon and rum remained mostly filled. Unfortunately, the stores of morale were running dangerously low. Captain Crimson knew they had to be approaching Franklin. They had been at sea for weeks after leaving the mysterious island. 

He knew the heartache the fellowship was feeling, he felt it himself. Both the Wizard and Inventor were fine adventures, and fine friends to boot. This loss was rough and it would take some time to heal. Time taken to rest in familiar territory is the prescription for these men. And they were almost…

Crimson’s train of thought is interrupted by a bark from Cole,

“Sir! Look ahead, portside,” calls out the first-mate.

Crimson looks ahead and sees a burning ship, engulfed in strangely familiar green flames. Crimson orders the Mystic Wave to pull up alongside the ship and search for any survivors. As the Wave pulls up next to the ship, only a single soul sits on the deck, his knees pulled close to his chest as he rocks back in forth, surrounded by flames. The Marksman works fast, swinging onto the deck using the rigging rope to swing over and retrieve the survivor.

Unfortunately, the survivor was not of much use, plagued by incoherent babbling. Dr. Wolf crouches nearby, asking if the sailor knew who destroyed his ship. 

“They… they… they’re burning Franklin to the ground,” screams the sailor as he falls into unconsciousness. 

Narrated by Brandon Warner