Fable: The Return Chapter 20

The Hero ventures into the pit known as Bloodstone in search of the man who attempted to kill him.
==Chapter 20==
Bloodstone, the pirate city that rose into infamy through its beginnings as Twinblade’s Bandit Camp. The camp was a place where all manner of bandits and assassins became one massive group under the leadership of the Bandit King, Twinblade. Once Twinblade was killed by the Hero of Oakvale, the bandits fell into disarray and became separate bands of gangs as they once were. Through the years, bandits would often rally to new leaders, but those leaders were stamped out almost as soon as they rose to power. Under the direction of the pirate Reaver, the Bandit Camp was transformed into the thriving city of scum and villainy that it is today. It is the perfect place for a criminal, the law is taken into the hands of the people for there are no guards. The crown does not carry much weight in this part of Albion, all thanks to Reaver. It is because of this that the King is thankfully that the crown was lost in Wraithmarsh, with it he may have been looked on as a target. And, he has had enough of fighting for his life for the time being.
Both Walter and the Hero's father had told him about this city. They told him about the pirates that roam the streets, the assassins that hide in dark places, the secrets that get passed in the darkness, and the parties held by Reaver. Either from a struck chance of luck, or that this is a usual occurrence, it appears that Reaver is indeed throwing a party on this night. The Hero is not sure why, but he feels that the large estate that towers over the entire city with music pouring out of it belongs to Reaver. He begins his walk towards the city from the top of a large hill looking over the ocean. On his way down, he can see several ships docked at the waterfront. One is a supply ship from Bowerstone, a couple are merchant vessels and ships meant for travel, and all others carry dark sails and various pirate flags.
The street that boarders the waterfront is littered with merchants selling good ranging from weapons to fish to jewels and gifts. On his passing, he spies into a pub by the name of The Leper's Arms. Inside, he sees all manner of pirate, merchant, lowly bard, bandit, and beggars. The inside of the pub is a window into an entire section of Albion's population. In this place of drinking the Hero can see the down trodden of his people unite under a common roof.
Gatherings like the one he is now witnessing in the pub are what can eventually lead to events like the Bloodstone Rebellion. The Bloodstone Rebellion occurred during Logan's reign as King of Albion, maybe seven years before his reign was ended. Logan was only a few years into his rule over the people when he instituted a law which would enable Reaver to have control over all Industrial progress in the city of Bowerstone. Reaver left the city of Bloodstone post haste and quickly established himself as a business man in the name of the crown, but mostly in the name of himself. With Reaver gone from the city, the people of Bloodstone had no leader to look to. While Reaver was not a leader in any way before, the people looked to him as a mayor of sorts considering he had the most power. There was an immediate fight for power that lasted only a few hours, a pirate crew sailing with a captain named Risher ended up as the victors. Risher and his crew took Reaver's estate by force, rooting out Reaver's few crewmen he had left behind.
The people of Bloodstone rallied behind their new mayoral figure until they started to be abused. Risher's crewmen would take to the streets and harass beggars, murder innocent people, and demand that the prostitutes give them what they desire without payment. This abuse of power is where the seeds of rebellion were planted. The free people of Bloodstone would meet in secret, often on the far side of the docks beyond the lighthouse. Massive amounts of pirate ships gathered beyond the rocks where Risher could not see from his high spot on the hill. By night, life would continue through abuse from Risher's crew, and by day, the people would plan their assault. On a cold morning as the sun began to rise over the port city of Bloodstone, explosions rattled the earth. The iconic Bloodstone Lighthouse was brought down and found its ruin in the waters below it. The noise pulled Risher's crew from their beds just as they had fallen asleep and led them to the waterfront. As they arrived, pirate sharpshooters garrisoned in every window and started to pick off the weary pirates. Before they could react to the sharpshooters, the abusive crew was flanked by an angry mob of pirates and citizens. Each and every one of Risher's crew were slain in the streets of Bloodstone, and their bodies were thrown into the sea. It did not take long for the people to pull Risher from his grand estate, still in his pajamas. As to make no point of leadership, no one person was assigned to kill the pirate captain. Instead, every citizen of Bloodstone came within inches of Risher's head and body and fired their weapons. His body was thrown from the cliff looking over the sea, it carried a total of seventy eight bullets, twelve arrows, and one throwing axe which was conveniently located in the crotch.
Since the rebellion, the people of Bloodstone have lived without any formal or informal leader. That is, until Reaver had returned to the secluded port when the Darkness threaded Albion so many years ago. From that point, Reaver had switched living areas several times a year from Bloodstone, to Bowerstone, and to a vacation home in Samarkand. The Hero passes by the pub completely and climbs up the nearest set of stairs. As he ascends, he passes by a dark alleyway in-between two homes on the left side of the stairs. The Hero immediately feels a presence behind him.
"That's a fine set of rags you're wearing there, stranger." The voice is rough and quiet, but not quite a whisper. The Hero turns to see a man dressed in all black, a black cowl covering all but his eyes.
"Do you mean to kill me?" The Hero asks the man, thinking him as an assassin.
"Kill? No," he responds. "I just know the look of importance when I see it. You've come to see Reaver."
"Alright, and what if I am?"
"Then I would escort you on your way to his manor up on the hill."
"I had supposed that was his home here. Why should I trust you?"
"You shouldn't, your majesty." The man walks past the Hero-King and ushers for him to follow. It appears as though that even without a crown, he can still be recognized as the king. The purple garb with gold trimmings might be giving him away though, even if it is covered in mud and sweat. "Don't worry about your identity here, not all of these vermin could recognize royalty if it invited them to dine in its castle. And contrary to common belief, not all people here despise the crown, we aren't all gunning for your head."
"That is good to know, I had thought that without the law in full force here that people would like the freedom and try to be rid of all who try to instill it."
"The people are free here because you allow it, they know this. They know that if the king wanted guards at every corner then it would be done. Bloodstone's freedom started with fear, and it has continued as such. The righteous people of Albion fear to travel to this port of call, we like it that way."
"Who are you?"
"My name is not important. You may call me The Executioner."
"Very well, Executioner." The king is confused by this chosen name, he has never had an executioner during his reign as king. Not many are alive to remember an Albion without him as the king, and this man seems so youthful. The king follows The Executioner up the stairs and down a street at the top where they pass more houses, most are very behind on repairs. They pass a brothel where several of the girls try to grab the king away. That is when a strange thing happens, The Executioner pulls out a mangled knife and points it to them, threatening to cut off their hands if they touch either of them.
As they walk away from the, now offended and shocked, prostitutes, The Executioner mutters, "Fucking sluts…a filth and wretched poison on this city, the lot of them." The king is shocked by this attitude towards the girls. Not that he approves of the business, but that in a place like Bloodstone there could be a man that didn't like them.
"There was no need for violence or threats. I could simply tell them no."
"Sometimes that doesn't cut it. They try and try to get your money and then you end up with a bastard to pay for. Nobody wants a bastard, nobody." The king begins to wonder if this boy is a bastard son, himself.
They climb up the steep hill of a street and arrive at the gates of Reaver's manor. Much like the gate to the city, this one also carries the large "R" for Reaver Industries. Also like the first gate, this is also guarded by an automaton, but this one looks rougher than the two that greeted him. The king feels that this one won't be as welcoming.
"Hello there Butch," The Executioner greets the machine.
"Oi! What?" The automaton reacts like it just woke up from a nap. "Oh, its you lot again. I guess you can come on i…wait a bleedin' minute. Who the fuck is this bloke?" The machine points to the king. "I don' recognize 'im!"
The king attempts to respond, "I am-"
"He's a friend," The Executioner cuts him off. "A friend of mine and he wants to speak to Reaver."
"Oi Reaver's got a party goin' on! 'at's a little obvious init?!"
"Yes, I know he has a party going on. And I know from experience that Reaver has rooms he will go to for privacy when business comes around. And you and I both know that Reaver loves his business. You're a big, smart machine, you know that."
"Yes, yes I know…Go on in then! Go before I change my mind and gut ya both." The gate opens and they hurriedly shuffle through and into the courtyard. The king is happy to see flowers and a flowing fountain in the middle of the yard. They walk up a small flight of stairs to get to the front door, guarded by a well-dressed butler.
"Welcome to Sir Reaver's manor." With that, they were inside the grand estate. The large mansion was decorated with the crimson red tapestries and carpeting, the very same coloring that Reaver obsessed over in Bowerstone. Luxury furnishings littered the foyer and the guests danced and stumbled all along the floor. Reaver's parties have always been said to be extravagant, and they truly are. Men and women alike dance around like fools with a goblet of wine in one hand and a flagon of ale in the other. To the right side of the entrance is the grand staircase that wraps around the wall and leads up to the next level. And to the left are two enormous barrels, one full of ale and the other full of red wine.
The king strays away from The Executioner almost immediately as he tries to track down Reaver. The masses of drunkards block his way from advancing easily through to the next room. Several people hand him drinks and he refuses them all. Some comment on his dirty clothing but pass it off as nothing because they realize their clothes are dirtier. Some even try to take his sword but the king swats their hands away. Before he is able to get into the next room, a gunshot rings through the house. All of the music stops, and all of the guests stop dancing and drinking all together. The king looks up to see a body fall from the bannister from above, it lands mere inches from the king's feet. He hears the blowing of smoke from a gun barrel, and looks up once more. There stands Reaver, one hands holding his black cane, the other holding a golden pistol to his overly tall top hat. As expected, Reaver is wearing his complete crimson suit just like when the king last saw him.
"And that, my good friends, is why I warm you all not to scuff the floors." Reaver says calmly as he looks down to the body. "Such a pity, oh well…Oh but look who it is!" The king looks up to Reaver, feeling that his eyes are on him. "It's the King of Albion! Coming to us from some grand adventure I'm sure, you look so good old chap. You must have come from Wraithmarsh, did you make a deal with some of the locals, hm?" Reaver tips his hat, he himself also seems more youthful than when he was seen last.
"I need to speak with you, Reaver."
"Yes, yes of course you do," Reaver says with a slight chuckle. "Come, come. Uhm, everyone!" He addresses the party, "If you would please let the man through and up the stairs, he and I have some business to attend to." The party goers clear a way for the king to come upstairs. He approaches Reaver, Reaver directs him further towards a series of doors. The king looks downstairs but finds no sight of The Executioner. He is led through a few doors and finally they reach a private room. The door closes with both he and Reaver within and the party outside continues. "Take a seat, relax."
"I'm fine on my feet, thank you."
"Ah yes, of course you are. Isn't it fantastic, having the old bones and muscles again? I know exactly how you feel." Reaver pours himself a glass of wine and takes a seat, kicking his feet up onto his desk. "No comment? You're not even going to tell me how you managed to become young again? I find that quite rude of you, your majesty."
"How I have changed is not of your concern, Reaver."
"Very well, very well. I won't hound you for the details of whatever deal you may or may not have made. Do you like what I've done with the place?"
"It's very…red."
"Very royal-red, just as I told you before! Isn't it stupendous? I had the designers come in and lay out the tapestries, the carpets, all of the new red decor just the other day. This is the second day of my week long celebration of the change of colors, the parties will only get grander!" Reaver laughs. "The only problem was that one of the designers told me that one of the carpets for the main room wouldn't be ready by the first day. Well that just couldn't possibly do so I simply-"
"Shot him?" He interrupts.
Reaver stops, a slight stutter in his trademark grin appears. "Shot her, your majesty. Not to be rude, just to be correct. Please, you think I'd be able to trust a man with decorating my house? No no no, that would never do."
"Reaver, I need to talk to you."
"Well you are currently, your majesty. You have just yet to initiate whatever business it was that you have a rived here at my party to inquire about. I simply began speaking to you of the progress here in an effort to, oh, fill the empty space in the air. What with the events at Bower Lake, releasing immortals from The Void and all, I felt that any silence among the two of us wouldn't be the greatest of times to experience. Now if we could cut to the chase, then we can find a solution to whatever you may need and I can continue with my debauchery as I had planned to do for the remainder of the week. Do you know how many women have arrived in the past couple days for this celebration?"
"I need a ship."
"A ship? Forgive me for asking but why would the King of Albion, ruler of the world and commander of all naval vessels, need to council a pirate for a ship?"
"Bloodstone was the nearest place to where I was when I found out I needed a ship. And Bowerstone isn't very reachable these days." The king recalls the horrors that have become of his capitol city, and he can't begin to imagine what has happened since then.
Reaver looks into the king's eyes for a moment, still with a grin on his face. "And where will you be taking this ship?"
"I seek passage to the Northern Wastes…my business is my own."
"Ah, the Northern Wastes," Reaver says the name slowly as if in awe of the place. "Never been there myself, but I've heard that the villages there may even get to see sun up to five times in a year. While I would love to leave my industries and parties in order to board a ship with you for a journey that could take several weeks to the destination of the wintry wonderland which is fabled for hosting the end of the world as it is today!" The last string in his sentence was said very joyously. "I simply don't care."
"What do you want?" The king bites down his pride and offers.
"What do I want? You're asking me what I want?"
"Yes, I need a ship and a crew to take me to the Northern Wastes as quickly as possible. Reaver, Albion will burn and fall into eternal darkness if I do not get there in time. Your industries, your estates, your parties will all burn to ash if you do not help me. I must get there for all of our sakes, and if that means I offer anything to you then so be it. I have made promises before and I can make them again, you know I am an honest man."
"What do I want indeed…" Reaver takes a long while to contemplate. The king starts to give up when he sees Reaver's face light up like it never has before. The king has just witnessed Reaver smile with his teeth, the sight is strangely beautiful. He has gone through life, seeing the devious pirate periodically throughout his entire life and has only seen Reaver smirk and grin as he always does. But, whatever Reaver thought of, it must be hard to get for him.
"Well? I see you've made a decision."
"Oh, indeed I have, your majesty! Indeed I have!" Reaver claps once and takes his feet off of the desk and leans forward. "As it seems that I have all of Albion as I can get without being the king, and judging by your appearance I will not be getting that soon…I know something you can get for me, something I have wanted for years ever since an old friend introduced it to me. Though, you don't quite have it in your possession currently. You'd have to get it and then give it to me…that is how this deal shall work."
"What do you want? Anything, Reaver…just say the word. I must get to the Northern Wastes and you are the best of the best. I need you. Just tell me your decision."
"No no no, you must shake on it first, your majesty."
"I will not shake on a deal that I don't know the stipulations of."
"Ah, but you will!" The grin has returned, this time with a new hint of mischief. "You are in my city, among my people, in my own house."
"And I am the King of Albion."
"The King of Albion who is out of options." Reaver offers his hand as he stands up. The king studies it for several moments, beads of sweat appear on his brow. What could he possibly be agreeing to? He gives in, there is no other choice, it must be done. The king stands up and shakes Reaver's hand.
"There…now what have I agreed to? What is it that you want?"
"Samarkand."