Fable Dark: Red Riding Hood by Soul

The desert refuge was thought to be unbreachable. No outsider was allowed entry. No insiders were allowed to leave. This was a refuge formed entirely with the power of the military. All those within this refuge were poor and most homeless. The walls were formed of great desert cliffs, standing high and casting their shadow over the town each day. This refuge was one filled with merchants, beggers, and abuse. Child labor was not uncommon and there was no order. One would believe that a military establishment such as this would be a strict place of order. Yet there was none. Though the refuge had a leader, he had long given up on it. His word was law but his word was scarce. Wives and children could be sold to pay depts. Theft when unnoticed. Yes, this desert refuge was nothing short of uninhabitable to outsiders used to the slight uneasy comfort of the hills or the serenity of the mountains. Those who took to the seas endured far worse in the ways of natural calamity but they had order. No, the desert refuge was, by far, the worst. Their leader, the warmonger known as General Noir, there was little to no hope for this poor settlement.

Noir was the one who'd stolen the ancient tree from the forest in such a vicious act that his own military followers did not truly wish to know of his plans. Only those actually part of his military force were allowed any convenience in his refuge. But most of them would have chosen the lower society of the refuge over the comfort of upper society after witnessing the inhumanity of his actions.

Noir stands before the ancient tree and the Immolation Blade as he did every day for hours, ever calculating ways to remove the weapon from the bark of the tree. All of his strength couldn't force the blade. All of his weaponry couldn't annihilate the tree. One of his higher officers enters the room and salutes. "Sir", she says.

"Unless this is about the Immolation Blade, I care not to hear it", the general says coldly, glancing over his shoulder.

"It is, sir. The Barrier has been shattered."

A smug grin makes its way onto Noir's face. He turns his head back to the tree. "What of the girl? Red Riding Hood, was it? What of her?"

The officer glances beyond Noir at the Immolation Blade. "The girl had gone into the Crystal Cavern. They were last seen on the other side of that mountain after it'd erupted. They're on their way to the mountain refuge, sir. The eruption didn't make it to the forest before the barrier was broken. The magma solidified the instant it reached the barrier. It only went down moments ago, sir. We know because..."

"Because the wolves are on the prowl. What of the Wendigo?"

"It is coming."

Noir's face grew suddenly grim once more. "Let it come. It will be worth the challenge. Dismissed"

The Officer nods and gives a salute before leaving the room. Noir glared intently into his reflection against the steel of the blade. The Wendigo was thought to be a creature with no equal. It was rumored to be a being of pure rage and hatred. One of unknown origin, unstoppable by all but one force. Noir had trained his body to the limits of any man but even with his near perfect physical ability, Noir knows very well he cannot defeat the Wendigo without the Immolation Blade. He too knows that he cannot wield the blade without the help of the one person on the planet capable of removing it from the ancient tree - Red Riding Hood.

"The girl can remove the blade from the bark," Noir says to himself. "Then I will kill the girl and take the blade. With it, I'll rid myself of the only remaining obstacle between the forest and myself. Once I do that, the forest will be at my mercy."

As the volcanic eruption shakes the earth, it too marks the beginning of horrid events to come. The magma slowly creeps down the face of the mountain with high anticipation as it approaches the forest below. The forest spirits now hide away in the overworld, watching the land of the living. Meanwhile, the beastial wolf known as The Wendigo, stands its ground against the scorching hot stone. It snarls viciously, awaiting the coming event. Then, almost as if impatient for its own demise, it rushes toward the edge of the forest, rapidly approaching the heat. But it stop short at the foot of the mountain where the Crystal Cavern is now sealed off. It presses its paws against an invisible barrier only inches from the stone cliff that would eventually lead into the mountain. The magma, finally reaching the barrier, solidifies on contact, turning instantly to stone.

As smoke rises from the lava in this, its moment of weakness, the barrier begins to deteriorate. It fades away into nothingness, the once hot magma now no more than heated rock. The Wendigo touches its paws to the air where the barrier once stood then snarls again, climbing up the rock then dashing along the face of the mountain, racing to its target. The old wolf watches from the bushes in wake of the massacre that the Wendigo left behind. Dead wolves and clawed trees are all that remain where the battle between this mysterious pack and the beast. But this one wolf, this one old, elusive, pack leader had evaded injury each time the beast appeared. What was its secret? Nothing could replace the eerie feeling that this silent killer brought with it, not even the Wendigo. There was no sense of danger greater than the one provided by the gaze of this wolf on the back one's neck. It turns its head, scanning over the carnage before it then leaves silently without so much as a twig snapping under its paw.

The Wendigo isn't as graceful. It barrels up the rocky face of the volcanic mountain, kicking up stone and dirt. It's on a mission and won't stop until that goal has been fulfilled. On the other side of the mountain, by now far across the river and scaling the adjacent mountain face, is Red Riding Hood, former wielder of the Immolation Blade. It stalks the girl from afar, waiting for its chance. Its goal, though not unknown, is most certainly not one of a pleasant nature. Several pack wolves pursue the Wendigo from the forest only to find themselves broken within seconds of reaching the range of the beast's long, hulking arms and razor-charp claws.

On the distant mountain Red can hear the cries of the slaughtered wolves. They howl out to the moon, forever unanswered. She knows of only one thing left capable of killing the wolves and, unfortunately, it wasn't fond of her either. "They're coming," she sayds to the Lumberjack, "The barrier's down and they're coming."

"The wolves are only a minor obstacle before us, lass. Them, you can handle."

"True." Red stares at the sheathed blade on her waist. "But it's not them I'm worried about."

Crook walks beside the lot of Red and her company. He makes sure to watch Leaf carefully, his eye never leaving her back. But when Red's grandmother pets the paranoid fox, he glances up to her. "You're quite the warrior now, aren't you? Standing up to that beast when you're not even half its size. It reminds me of someone I used to know back in the glory days", she says. Crook looks up to the aging woman before redirecting his full attention to Leaf, fixing his red eyes upon her once more.

As the crickets chirp in the night, everyone rests some time later. Red's fallen asleep, peacefully lying in the arms of her too sleeping grandmother. The Lumberjack rests, sitting up against a rock in the ground as Leaf sleeps in the grass. But Crook is not one to rest. Ever watching and ever concerned, the former warrior sits up, awake and anxious. He scans over the area carefully every few seconds, making sure that no danger is within reach. The watchful guardian stands when he hears the rustling in the bushes. Only a squirrel. Crook eases for some amount of seconds before next jumping at the sound of an Owl's hoot.

Crook is nervous. More than any of the party, he can sense the evils approaching. He can barely challenge the pack wolves. How could he ever hope to defend Red, Leaf, and the others against The Wendigo? Nonetheless, he eases himself, puffing smoke from his pipe. He stands perfectly still, uneasily calm. The crickets chirp, the owls hoot, the faint sound of the rushing waters in the river can even be heard. But the peace is interrupted. With his acute ability to hear, he can make out the pattern of footsteps in the river, water splashing up from the rushing stream. He buckles down into a defensive stance and growls, awakening Red and the Lumberjack. "What's wrong with you?" Red asks, looking out into the woods.

"We should be going. Crook can sense things that we can't. I think something's on its way here and we won't find it to our liking", Lumberjack warns as he stands up, cracking his spine from having been resting it against a hard stone.

"The Mountain Refuge isn't far from here," says Red's grandmother as she gets up, helping Red to her feet. "We might want to get going now, dear. No telling what Crook's riled up at."

As everyone stands in agreement, Lumberjack nudges Leaf, waking her up. She rubs her eyes like a small child an weakly stands. "Are we leaving?" She questions, removing her hands from her face. Here, on the dirt covered mountain, away from the trees and largely grassy areas, one can hardly tell Leaf is a nymph. Her green skin pigment fades to the brown of the dirt and only shines wherever there are patches of grass. Her eyes don't have nearly the same glow they do. But here in the mountains, everyone is out of their element.

The lot of them get together and leave before any more misfortune can possibly befall them, leaving Crook to growl at the bushes before finally turning his back on them to join the party. Further down the mountain, the vicious beast leaps along the rocks, snarling in pursuit. It crushes the stones it steps on as if they were twigs and leaps over boulders, letting nothing get in its way. The mission will not be interrupted.

In the eerie veil of night, Red and Crook come up to a point in the mountain where they can see the light of a flowing blaze. The crisp, orange light given off is all the welcome any of the party require. With all haste, Red charges ahead, leaving all of the others to collect the dust from the trail she leaves. Here, on the top of this ridge, is the goal they've sought for so long. "The refuge", Redsays, a hint of relief in her voice. Though much to her delight, Crook, Lumberjack, and her Grandmother aren't so enthusiastic. They wander through the refuge of the mountains, attracting several dirty looks.

The cold glares of begging children and merchants is cast upon them from all directions. Red soon feels it as well. It's the same feeling of eyes on the back of her neck increased tenfold. Her relief becomes discomfort and she tightens the hoo, closing it more around her head.

A child among many points Leaf out among the five. "That girl's green", he says. Leaf, sitting on Lumberjack's shoulder, seems to not acknowledge him. She shrugs him off as if he were never there but she knew better. She didn't find anything strange about herself, considering her origins. Forest Nymphs, naturally, had a slightly green skin pigment that made them heavily resemble plants. Just as sea nymphs tend to appear blue or volcanic nymphsare often red, Leaf was green. However, the more she hears it, the more awkward she begins to feel.

The cloak of Red's hood flows behind her as she walks, making her appear to have some form of heroic quality. She stops when she finds an open place, free of people and the others do the same. "This place," Red sighs, "I don't like it here. Why is this refuge so cold? The people, I mean."

"Sometimes, lass, you become where you're from", he responds.

"These people are just disconected, dear. They aren't used to outsiders like us being here. We're lucky to be here at all. I thought they'd have walls, keeping outsiders...out."

Red glances out from her hood and around at the poor refuge. It'd looked like it'd been through an apocalypse of its own. All of the shelters were cheaply made by tying sticks together. Most people had no shoes for treading this hard, stone floor that the mountain had presented them. Kids were dirty and older men were passed out in the paths, either exhausted or drunk. "This is making me sick", Red complained.

Lumberjack stood on a table before several refugees. Red was surprised the table didn't fall apart beneath his massive structure.Ifso much as a feather were to fall on him, it would collapse for certain. "Listen up," he announced, Leaf still on his shoulders, "I'm looking for the Leader of your refuge, here. Do any of you know where he is?" The crowd was silent, their glares now more harsh and cold than ever. Lumberjack then sighs and steps down, the table collapsing the second he's planted firmly on the ground.

"For the record, I knew that was going to happen", Red scoffed, looking away.

"Lucian, Lucian, is that you?" Cries an unfamiliar voice. A tall man emerges from a small hut. His body covered in battle scars, his build like that ofa man who wrestles with bears for a living. "By god, Lucian, you haven't ages a day." His hair is thinning yet still keeps its full, black color. His teeth are, surprisingly, all in tact.

The Lumberjack sets Leaf down between Red and Crook then turns to face the man. The two exchange friendly handshakes with a certain gleam in their eyes. "I could say the same to you, friend. Ever since the Great Apocalypse, I figured you'd be aging like no tomorrow. Well, I can see I was some part right."

"Aye, friend, that's true enough. So who is this lot you seem to have dragged along with you?"

"Ah, you've met two of 'em before. This is none other than Ms. Little Red Riding Hood."

Red undoes her hood and pulls it back, away from her face. "Well, I'll have a hard time calling her little anymore, friend. She's grown quite a bit."

"We've actually talked about that several times, sir", Red agrees.

The Lumberjack shoots an authoritative glare in Red's direction then glances back to hisold friend. "And, of course, you remember Ms. Mary Hood. This is my old partner, Gregorio Wolfsbane, in case you're hard of memory, lass."

"Oh, she wouldn't remember me. It was even before the Great Apocalypse. The lass was hardly four years of age", Wolfsbane replies. "Anyway, friend, what brings you to the mountain refuge? How did you even get here? What, you odged your way through the forest, friend?"

"Aye, that we did. We need your help, friend."

Wolfsbane suddenly grows quiet for a moment, looking down as if to think. He then opens the entrance to the hut. "Watch your step. This entrance leads to a tunnel."

Far off, on the darkest side of the mountain, the beast lurks. It stops just short of the refuge, lowering itself to stalk its prey undetected. In the instance of the visitors, Wolfsbane has ordered the entrance to the town be guarded. No problem for this monster. It stalks slowly, carefully. The guards seenothing more than a sudden overcast as seconds later, they're pounced by the massive, black animal and slaughtered on the spot, most likely torn limb from limb, neck snapped first so they've no way to cry out. The Wendigo is as intelligent as it is brutish. A small boy sees the hulking creature and throws a rock at it, thinking it an outsider. But the instant the beast steps out of the shadows on its hind legs, revealing itself to the boy, it bears its many sharp fangs and snarls, leaving the boy paralyzed in fear.

In Wolfsbane's quarters, everyone sits down opposite the refuge leader. "So, friend, tell me what exactly would force you on such a dangerous mission through the most dangerous region left on the planet."

"The Immolation Blade", Lumberjack says.

"The Immolation Blade? I thought that only a myth."

"No sir," Red chimes in, "It's very real. And right now it's in very dangerous hands in the refuge out in the desert. We need a transport out there because we would never make it there on foot."

Wolfsbane stands and paces, pondering over the situation. "This isa very serious matter then. If the old tale is, in fact, true, then the Immolation Blade can only be wielded by someone the spirits of the forest deem worthy."

Red remains quiet. But Leaf taps her on her shoulder. The nymph's eyes are pure white, glazed over as if she's been possessed. Red glances first to Wolfsbane then grabs Leaf by the wrist and pulls her to the corner to speak while the others are speaking among one another. Crooklooks back to them, smoking his pipe quietly. "Leaf, are you..."

"The forest is unprotected. Only the one of the crimson cowl can defend it against The Flames", says the familiar voice of one of the forest spirits. The voice projects itself from Leaf over her own.

"The wolves, they prowl," says the voice of the second, "But the Wendigo, it stalks."

"Wait, what about the Wendigo?"

"It is near", say both voices.

Red's face grows distraught. She abruptly turns herself and approaches the others. "Weapons, Wolfsbane, sir, do you have weapons? Anything made of silver", Red urges. The Lumberjack stares at the girl curiously. Though his puzzled expression becomes one of fear when he sees Red's panicked eyes. Wolfsbane walks to the back of the room and opens a chest. Inside is a key, forged with the finest of silver and gold alloys. Tossing it to the Lumberjack, he too pulls out a set of bows and arrows.

"Protect that key for me, will you, friend?" Wolfsbane jokes, throwing the arrows over his back and holding the bow in his hand. As the Lumberjack nods, Wolfsbane opens the hatch leading back to the surface of the refuge where he can hear the screams of women and children, the cries of wounded men, an the roar of flames. "So, it's come to this, has it?"

"With all due respect, friend, you have no idea what's out there," says the Lumberjack, "You can't fight it. It doesn't stop and will never stop until its mission is carried out...whatever that may be."

Wolfsbane stops before leaving and looks back to his olf friend. "Lucian, you never did like the fight. I'm not as helpless as you believe me to be. These arrowheads...I had the blacksmith forge them out of a special silver metal. It's the most powerful substance available to us on this mountain, capable of piercing diamond. That keyis also made of that substance. Get to the foot of the mountain. You'll find a hidden door. The key opens it. I'm sure you'll like what you find."

As Wolfsbane leaves, the Lumberjack turns to face everyone else. Red tightens her hood and holds Leaf's hand as her Grandmother nods to him. The lot of them leave with Crook covering the rear. They make their way to the other side of the refuge, evading anyone with a weapon. In the center of the Refuge is the Wendigo, standing atop utter carnage. It snarls then howls to the glowing night times moon. But Wolfsbane stands before it, dragging the bow along with him. The beast stops to see the man as he aims an arrow at it. "You'll do no more damage here, cretin." The Wendigo bears all of its fangs at the warrior as he releases the arrow. The silver streak soars through the air, the trail behind it left shimmering as the glitter of the steel is left behind. The arrow pierces the beast in the chest but it only stands there as if it'd been only a mosquito. It then begins to approach him.

Wolfsbane turns and begins to run through the refuge, leading as he occasionally turns to shoot another arrow. The Wendigo only does so much as to put its arm up to block the flying spears on occasion. It leaps from the path and onto on the the mountain's rock walls then pounces from that wall at Wolfsbane as the warrior turns to shoot another arrow, dropping it from the air.

By now, Red and the others are out of the mountain refuge and on their way down the mountain face, running for fear that soon the monster may claim Wolfsbane and be after them once more. "Come on, we've got to move faster. We can't defend against that beast and if it finds us, we may as well be dead!" The Lumberjack urges.

"How far down the mountain is this door supposed to be?!" Red complains.

"We'll know it when we see it, Lass just move, we don't have time to be doubting what little knowledge we have!"

In the refuge, Wolfsbane finds himself cornered against a mountain wall but when he turns around, the Wendigo is nowhere to be seen. He can hear the snarl and smell the blood on the beast's fur but it's invisible to him. Then he turns his head to the sky to find that the beast has clung to a mountain wall. He pulls and arrow and releases just as it lunges down on him, the sound of crunching bone echoing over the refuge. The Wendigo stands and pulls the arrows from its body before the wounds heal then it lifts the broken man and throws him into a merchant's hut and proceeds, leaving Wolfsbane dead, a broken spine and bite mark on his side. The mountain refuge has fallen to the beast.

Down the mountain, Red helps her grandmother to keep up as Leaf rests on Lumberjack's shoulders. Crook holds his pipe firmly in his jaws, puffing smoke only every few minutes. Looking back, one can see the flames engulfing the mountain refuge. They can hear the howl of the enraged monster as it approaches. "We're not far enough away," Red says, "It'll catch up to us. 'The Forest is nolonger defended'. What does that mean?"

"It means that the wolves and the beast are free to come and go as they please, but that isn't all. The barrier that once protected both the forest and those outside her is gone. That barrier was meant to protect the forest from harm and lock in the wolves and the Wendigo, preventing anyone outside the forest from being hurt. But the barrier was destroyed not long after the Ancient Tree was taken. All it needed was one force and it's go down", Lumberjack explains.

Red thinks for a minute then comes to a startling realization. "The eruption. The magma must have caused the barrier to disappear."

"That would make sense. We don't have the time to worry over it now. We need to get the blade back and get the tree back to the forest."

Far away in the desert refuge, Noir walks through his quarters when he finds that someone has entered his room. "Report", he says.

"The Mountain Refuge has been desolated, sir. It was the Wendigo. Their leader, Wolfsbane, was killed by it."

"How unfortunate. I'd hoped he would have lasted longer. I wanted the pleasure of besting him in combat myself. But if a mindless monster such as the Wendigo could so easily kill him, then how can I truly say he was worthy of me?" Noir scoffs, flipping through the pages of a familiar and comforting book. "Private, do you know the battle-cry of the giants?"

The Private shakes her head. "No sir, I don't."

"Fee Fi Fo Fum...it figuratively translates to 'I will show you a battle, the likes of which you have never seen'. Literally, it translates to 'Let there be blood'." Noir then closes the book with an ominous chuckle. "So, you old wolf, I suppose a cat would be a more accurate title for you. How many liveshave you left?"

In the fallen mountain refuge all of the people gather around their fallen leader as he opens his eyes an stands. The fire's been calmed and the injured are being tended to. An angry refugee screams out to Wolfsbane. "You always told us that outsiders would bring terror to our refuge! Now you house them?"

"Alright, all of you listen," Wolfsbane announces, "I did not forsee the event at hand. This was a terrible event but the danger is now gone and we must put all of our effort into the reconstruction of our refuge."

"The outsiders brought that monster!"

Wolfsbane says nothing. He onlycasts his gaze over the riled crowd. Finally, he raises his bow. "The outsiders brought this horror upon us. We will find them and make sure they answer for their crimes. But we cannot do so now. For the time being, the reconstruction must be our only focus."

Unfortunately, Wolfsbane's desperate attempt to stall for time is ignored by several of his people. One of them becomes so enraged that he screams out from the back, "We'll send a group after them and the rest will stay and rebuild."

"Who would be fool enough to go and challenge them, they who brought that beast here?"

"My men and I will be more than happy to tend to this matter", says a shady man, stepping out of the crowd.

Wolfsbane seems to grow worried suddenly. "I wasn't aware of your return, Drake. I suppose, being a bounty hunter, you'll desire a reward."

"You know me well, sir", Drake says eerily, tipping his hat back.

"What is your wish?"

"I'd like to be made an advisor to the great Wolfsbane...if I succeed in bringing the girl back."

Wolfsbane, knowing when he's lost a battle, attempts to resist but ultimately admits and nods, leaving to begin a headcount of those left dead. Drake wraps his brown, tattered cloak around his lean body and walks away, his hat casting a shadow over his face as a smug grin makes its way across his face.