The Last Role of the Dice: A Fable Adventure – Part 2

A tale where YOU choose what happens next! Or at least vote for it. Read part 1 here
You’re Ben Finn, but how did you end up in this shabby inn room?

2

Now that you’ve finally remembered who you are, other things are coming back to you. You came to the inn the night before to meet someone, though who that was is still hazy. Gathering your belongings, you make your way downstairs and recognise the place as the Don’t Go Inn. It was a favourite haunt of your regiment when you were still a soldier. A wry smile touches your lips as you remember how Major Swift used to lead the brigade in song.

It’s early in the morning, but already a few dismal regulars are hunched over vile-smelling mugs. Your stomach lurches at the sight, as if it knows exactly what they’re drinking. The innkeeper greets you and you ask him about the night before. ‘Not surprised yer can’t remember,’ he says. ‘Warned ya the house experimental ale was strong stuff.’ He explains you were talking to a woman in the private booth in the corner before the fight broke out. Before you can ask ‘what fight?’ the doors to the inn burst open and a battered and bruised skinhead in studded leather armour enters, followed by three of his unsavoury friends wielding swords and maces. The skinhead points at you and shouts: ‘That’s the one! Get ‘im!’

As they rush towards you screaming, so do all your memories. You’d received a message from Page asking you to meet her about a grave danger facing Albion. Though you’d thought it strange that she’d chosen a disreputable tavern as the meeting place, you’d hoped this was her way of asking you for a date. You arrived last night, made your way through the crowd, and bumped into a tall woman wearing a blindfold and cowl. ‘Oops,’ she said, wiping spilled elderberry juice from her cloak and walking to the side of the room, where at least a dozen people similarly attired were gathered under a banner that read “The Theresa Fan Club Annual Gala’.

It was then a hand pulled you into the private booth at the end of the room, where you sat opposite a mousy woman also wearing a cowl. Cowls were making a big comeback this year. It turned out she had used Page’s name to lure you here with an important message from the real Theresa: ‘a terrible evil is coming’. So what else was new? You were not impressed. The woman went on to say that the Spire was awakening and that you must travel to Brightwood to save the world from doom. The woman slipped you a piece of paper. ‘The words on here will save your life one day,’ she said cryptically. Then she handed over two six-sided dice with even more cryptic words: ‘The dice will tell you what to do.’ She left and merged with the crowd, leaving you in a severe state of cryptiness.

You needed a drink and asked the innkeeper for a pint of his strongest ale. Then… well, it’s all a little blurry, except for the vague recollection of smashing a chair into a skinhead’s face. Oh, right, yes, the skinhead. Better do something about that blade hastening towards your head.

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