|Series||Fable: The Return by Scorponix|
|← Chapter 20||Chapter Chronology||Chapter 22 →|
The King boards a pirate ship and sets off for The Northern Wastes.
The king is speechless, Reaver has basically just forced him to declare war on Samarkand. He went into an agreement blind, and now must live with the consequences, especially after swearing to be an honest man. "Reaver…please, be reasonable."
"Oh, I am being quite reasonable. You asked me what I wanted and I told you, I don't need the blasted country now. We can set sail as soon as you'd like, you can go offs and save the world once more and we'll be done. Once you return you will do whatever is necessary to get me my country."
"Reaver," the king starts to sound desperate. "There has already been bloodshed beyond reckoning, there is no telling how many have died. I will not have a suitable army with the ability to invade and conquer an entire country, especially one as prosperous as Samarkand."
"You have me all wrong, your majesty. Nobody has said anything about invading Samarkand, such a war would obviously cause massive destruction of land and of population for both sides. No no, there will be no war. I will not establish my leadership on a conquered country that would rebel at every turn. As fun as it would be to stamp out each and every rebel that would raise a finger at me, I'm afraid I would end up as the king of a chunk of dirt with no people to abuse."
"So, what then? What would you have me do?"
"I was hoping you would ask me that." Reaver takes his seat back. "I was thinking more along the fine lines of a monarchical assassination. Stay with me now, you set up for some members of the Assassination Society to infiltrate the royal palace of Samarkand. Once they are inside they kill the lot of them, every member of the royal family along with all public officials just to be sure. The government in Samarkand is quite confusing and even I don't fully comprehend what the hell is going on."
"An assassination on the entire royal family of Samarkand?"
"Of course that is just option number one. There could be several different courses of action that could plop me into my seat of power. That, your majesty, is up for you to decide. I shall merely sit back and relax after this journey on the sea and wait for my throne."
"And how do I know you would not start a war against Albion? Would we have peace between our lands?"
"Ah, yes, you won't know." Reaver smiles, "that of course is a discussion for another day. Now, we must move forward with business!" Reaver smacks his cane on the ground three times in succession. The door opens and three men walk in, two of them wear traditional pirate rags and wield two blades and multiple pistols. The third is The Executioner, with him now is his true weapon, a massive claymore that stretches from above his head and down past his knees. "I trust you have already met my friend here?"
"I have yes, The Executioner."
"A fun name indeed, glorious improvement from his real name. Isn't that right?"
The Executioner speaks, "it is, Reaver. You've never told me your birth name."
"Oh, funny story that. My actual name is something I let go of the day I became a pirate. I believe I was a little lad of about eight, my father had left us years prior to be a pirate. I would always tell my mother that I wanted to go find Daddy, and she told me he was a town guard and that I would follow in his steps to greatness one day in the guard. Obviously she was a fool because I knew damn well that my poor Daddy was a pirate. Well the day came where I found one of these new gun contraptions that were floating around, I was playing with it in the yard when Mommy came out and…And then I…I" Reaver looks off into a corner, "I can't say I remember the rest. My birth name though was…well well well, I can't remember that one either, All for the best I suppose, Reaver suits me much better than whatever it was."
"You're acting a little out of character, Captain. Is his majesty bothering you more than you had intended?"
"No no, the king here has just promised me Samarkand. I may just be a little giddy in the excitement. I've owned people before but I've never owned an entire country, it should be good fun."
The king speaks up once more. "Shall we continue then?"
"Yes yes of course, your majesty. Wouldn't want to keep you waiting on your grand journey to rid Albion of all evils. I believe the Drakemouth would be suitable for the speeds at which you'd like to reach the North. I, of course, do not know the way. But my little Executioner just so happens to be an expert on the route."
"You have been to the Northern Wastes before?"
"No," The Executioner answers. "But I have been up that way very often in recent years. I haven't gone as far to wear I've hit land, but I've struck against my fair share of icebergs."
The king tries not to dwell on why this man has been that far north and travelled the path from Bloodstone all the way there so frequently. Without any other words, they are shuffled out of the private room and are taken out of a side door to avoid the crowds. Reaver is nowhere to be seen.
"Will Reaver not be sailing with us?"
"Reaver has his parties to handle, your oh so majestic majesty."
The king does not know what to say in return, he had thought that Reaver would be joining them especially after the way he talked about the journey. After winding through several streets, He, The Executioner, and two of Reaver's crew arrive at the docks. He is led to the very end of the dock to the farthest left, and there floats the ship.
The waters before the king hosted a giant ship made entirely out of the black wood that makes up Reaver's cane. The ship has four masts, two large and two small. The largest of the four is second from the back and features a crow's nest. Each mast flies very fresh and new-looking crimson sails that look as if they are stained with blood. A black flag soars from high above the crow's nest, upon it is a crimson "R" with two pistols pointing outward from either side. In golden lettering along the side of the vessel is the name "Drakemouth."
The four men come on board and are greeted with the sight of several pirates cleaning and preparing the ship to sail. The Executioner speaks to the king, "Welcome aboard my baby, the Drakemouth. Named for the speed and fiery power of a dragon, fitting that the last known dragon in Albion was killed in the Northern Wastes. This should get you there in good time."
"So, will you be the captain of this expedition?"
The Executioner simply laughs and looks up to the banister in front of the wheel. Reaver stands proudly, one hand on the bannister, and one on his cane that matches perfectly with the ship. He has gotten rid of the top hat and lets his minimalistic, yet mesmerizing hair flow in the breeze. The crimson suit has been replaced with an, of course, crimson pirate outfit. Reaver looks to the king and winks, and the ship begins to move.