Categories > Games > Fable > crimson balverine
Chapter three
And so for hours the beast tore into Darrious, rending apart his flesh like weak cloth. Its teeth gouging
into his right shoulder and ripping out his arm and tossing it to its common brethren that circled this truly
hellish ritual being committed.
For what seemed like a eternity to Darrious the White Balverine laid into him like a butcher hacking
away at a cows carcass, until finally as the bloody red moon reached its highest peak did the albino beast
ended his leaving hell by slashing a single claw across his left eye from just above his eyebrow, gouging it
in such a way that the eye was damaged but not destroyed, leaving the claw to race along until it exited
his upper lip and withdrew back to the White Balverine side with its hand.
With its work finished the colorless monstrosity growled to its companions and dashed into the deep
reaches of Dark Wood, where only the children of Scorm dared to approach leaving Darrious little more
than a mass of ragtag flesh laying in the cold virgin snow, quickly converting its color with the red dye of
his own life fluid.
Broken, alone, frightened, disfigured and slowly dying Darrious began to grow weary, and began to pray,
not to Avo for that god had obviously forsaken him, but to Scorm, the evil god that may take mercy upon
him. Oh how foolish this boy truly is.
Breathing was all he could do and even that was excruciatingly painful; his chest having been raked
several times by the White Balverines claws, there was nothing he could do but mentally pray to Scorm
as he waited to die.
“Hear my pray oh dark one! Help me in this, my hour of dying and I will do your bidding, I will be your
servant just please spare me life, I care not how you do it just please I beg of you, rescue me from the
clutches death’s cold shadowy blanket.” And so with that pray and his vow did Scorm answer Darrious’s
plea.
The soft crunching of snow drew Darrious away from his justified self-pity to his right armless side to
view something that brought him a small sense of relief but a large amount of sub concise fear. It was a
woman, how with Darrious’ hazy mind due to loss of blood appeared to be in her early 30.
Her beauty was stunning and almost unearthly, her hair a deep vibrant gold that shimmered in the red
glow of the moon, her eyes as green as fresh spring moss growing on a tree, bit the strangest thing of all
was that she was naked for all the world to see, and to Darrious’ young male mind even in his near
death state, there was a lot to see, especially with her hourglass figure and above average bust.
After staring at each other for a few minutes, him out of his one good eye, she spoke with a slight giggle
and as smoothly as silk.
“Awwwwww. The poor little one got hurt, did some mean bullies beat up on you? Well don’t worry little
dear heart” she spoke as she kneeled down next to him, while digging her arms under the snow to lean
him up against her “mommy is here now and is going to make you feel much better.”
Through the thick murky fog that had become his mind Darrious couldn’t understand what was going
on, let alone do anything about it, especially considering the wounds he had, all he could mutter was a
confused
“Whaaaa….?” Before the woman placed his head upon her right breast and whispered
“Shhhh, drink mommy’s milk, it will make you better, and much stronger, trust in mommy and all will be
well.” And as she spoke, milk began to flow from her nipple and into Darrious’s mouth, which in his
weakened state had reverted back to primal instincts and could do no more than swallow, as his mouth
filled with her milk. Suddenly the milk began to change taste as it flowed, becoming more coppery and
lighter, with a sudden rush of realization that brought him out of his pain induced daze he realized that
somehow her milk had changed to blood!
Before he could start to struggle the woman gripped the back of his head and held him to her bosom in
vice hard grip while whispering loud enough for him to hear
“Now now little one, don’t struggle with mommy and drink your milk, all will be well soon, sleep now
sleep.”
And as she spoke the words Darrious felt his eyes grow heavy, weather from blood loss or some spell
this harlot had placed on him, he began to drift off, towards a sleep he wasn’t sure he would awake
from.
As he fell to his dreams the woman laid him gently to the ground, stood up and observed from her now
cold calculative eyes’ as his wounds that he received from the White Balverine began to heal and
become nothing but deep dark scars that would forever mare his body with their prescience, all but his
eye and right arm where left not completely healed or not healed at all respectively.
“Hmmmm, well those wounds should heal by morning, either that or he’ll be dead.” She spoke with her
voice heavy changed from giggling silk to a cold seductive embrace. “Now where could those idiots be?”
she questioned out load.
From out of the forest came five figures all wearing the clothes of the servants of Scorm, four being
male and the last being obviously female from her figure and how she moved. As the five approached
the woman and the unconscious form of Darrious they bowed their heads and the female dark priestess
spoke.
“My lady” she spoke with utter respect for the naked woman before her “is he to be the one you wish us
to take care of” as she gazed upon Darrious with curiosity.
“Yes he is” replied the woman “and he had better be well looked after if he survives, I have plans for
him” she cast her gaze to Darrious “very……..interesting plans indeed”
“It will be as you command my lady” announced the priestess as she motioned for the four men to pick
up the body and gently carry it back the way they came. “is there anything else we may do my lady?”
she questioned as she raised her head only to find the naked woman gone, not even foot prints showing
she had been there at all. Sighing deeply the priestess turned and followed the men back to where they
came from, the temple of Scorm.
As the assembled group entered the temple the priestess turned towards the forest as the sound of
Balverines howling in the distance reached her ears. But this howling was strange; it sounded
almost….forlorn, as if the creatures howling where asking forgiveness for the part they had played
earlier that evening.
Turning from the forest and entering the temple, quickly closing the doors with a loud slam, that fate of
Albion was beginning to unfold. After this night Darrious would begin to not only make his legend, but
also help to define someone else’s down the road near the end of his journey.
And so for hours the beast tore into Darrious, rending apart his flesh like weak cloth. Its teeth gouging
into his right shoulder and ripping out his arm and tossing it to its common brethren that circled this truly
hellish ritual being committed.
For what seemed like a eternity to Darrious the White Balverine laid into him like a butcher hacking
away at a cows carcass, until finally as the bloody red moon reached its highest peak did the albino beast
ended his leaving hell by slashing a single claw across his left eye from just above his eyebrow, gouging it
in such a way that the eye was damaged but not destroyed, leaving the claw to race along until it exited
his upper lip and withdrew back to the White Balverine side with its hand.
With its work finished the colorless monstrosity growled to its companions and dashed into the deep
reaches of Dark Wood, where only the children of Scorm dared to approach leaving Darrious little more
than a mass of ragtag flesh laying in the cold virgin snow, quickly converting its color with the red dye of
his own life fluid.
Broken, alone, frightened, disfigured and slowly dying Darrious began to grow weary, and began to pray,
not to Avo for that god had obviously forsaken him, but to Scorm, the evil god that may take mercy upon
him. Oh how foolish this boy truly is.
Breathing was all he could do and even that was excruciatingly painful; his chest having been raked
several times by the White Balverines claws, there was nothing he could do but mentally pray to Scorm
as he waited to die.
“Hear my pray oh dark one! Help me in this, my hour of dying and I will do your bidding, I will be your
servant just please spare me life, I care not how you do it just please I beg of you, rescue me from the
clutches death’s cold shadowy blanket.” And so with that pray and his vow did Scorm answer Darrious’s
plea.
The soft crunching of snow drew Darrious away from his justified self-pity to his right armless side to
view something that brought him a small sense of relief but a large amount of sub concise fear. It was a
woman, how with Darrious’ hazy mind due to loss of blood appeared to be in her early 30.
Her beauty was stunning and almost unearthly, her hair a deep vibrant gold that shimmered in the red
glow of the moon, her eyes as green as fresh spring moss growing on a tree, bit the strangest thing of all
was that she was naked for all the world to see, and to Darrious’ young male mind even in his near
death state, there was a lot to see, especially with her hourglass figure and above average bust.
After staring at each other for a few minutes, him out of his one good eye, she spoke with a slight giggle
and as smoothly as silk.
“Awwwwww. The poor little one got hurt, did some mean bullies beat up on you? Well don’t worry little
dear heart” she spoke as she kneeled down next to him, while digging her arms under the snow to lean
him up against her “mommy is here now and is going to make you feel much better.”
Through the thick murky fog that had become his mind Darrious couldn’t understand what was going
on, let alone do anything about it, especially considering the wounds he had, all he could mutter was a
confused
“Whaaaa….?” Before the woman placed his head upon her right breast and whispered
“Shhhh, drink mommy’s milk, it will make you better, and much stronger, trust in mommy and all will be
well.” And as she spoke, milk began to flow from her nipple and into Darrious’s mouth, which in his
weakened state had reverted back to primal instincts and could do no more than swallow, as his mouth
filled with her milk. Suddenly the milk began to change taste as it flowed, becoming more coppery and
lighter, with a sudden rush of realization that brought him out of his pain induced daze he realized that
somehow her milk had changed to blood!
Before he could start to struggle the woman gripped the back of his head and held him to her bosom in
vice hard grip while whispering loud enough for him to hear
“Now now little one, don’t struggle with mommy and drink your milk, all will be well soon, sleep now
sleep.”
And as she spoke the words Darrious felt his eyes grow heavy, weather from blood loss or some spell
this harlot had placed on him, he began to drift off, towards a sleep he wasn’t sure he would awake
from.
As he fell to his dreams the woman laid him gently to the ground, stood up and observed from her now
cold calculative eyes’ as his wounds that he received from the White Balverine began to heal and
become nothing but deep dark scars that would forever mare his body with their prescience, all but his
eye and right arm where left not completely healed or not healed at all respectively.
“Hmmmm, well those wounds should heal by morning, either that or he’ll be dead.” She spoke with her
voice heavy changed from giggling silk to a cold seductive embrace. “Now where could those idiots be?”
she questioned out load.
From out of the forest came five figures all wearing the clothes of the servants of Scorm, four being
male and the last being obviously female from her figure and how she moved. As the five approached
the woman and the unconscious form of Darrious they bowed their heads and the female dark priestess
spoke.
“My lady” she spoke with utter respect for the naked woman before her “is he to be the one you wish us
to take care of” as she gazed upon Darrious with curiosity.
“Yes he is” replied the woman “and he had better be well looked after if he survives, I have plans for
him” she cast her gaze to Darrious “very……..interesting plans indeed”
“It will be as you command my lady” announced the priestess as she motioned for the four men to pick
up the body and gently carry it back the way they came. “is there anything else we may do my lady?”
she questioned as she raised her head only to find the naked woman gone, not even foot prints showing
she had been there at all. Sighing deeply the priestess turned and followed the men back to where they
came from, the temple of Scorm.
As the assembled group entered the temple the priestess turned towards the forest as the sound of
Balverines howling in the distance reached her ears. But this howling was strange; it sounded
almost….forlorn, as if the creatures howling where asking forgiveness for the part they had played
earlier that evening.
Turning from the forest and entering the temple, quickly closing the doors with a loud slam, that fate of
Albion was beginning to unfold. After this night Darrious would begin to not only make his legend, but
also help to define someone else’s down the road near the end of his journey.
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