Chapter One

A Whole New World

So, here it goes. I always wanted to do a fanfic in which someone falls in from our world into Fable, I was a bit iffy at first but thought what the hell what do I have to lose. So I hope you enjoy it, don't own Fable or Ben Finn (sadly). My OC is my own creation so lets all get a nice cup of tea and have a read. Also, a bit of swearing and maybe naughty scenes later ;).

London was silent. Away from the central area with pulsing club music and yelling drunks, the sound of tapping feet could be heard echoing through the barren street. Beneath the yellow street light, Isabella Taylor hobbled her feet throbbing in pain. Her awkward footsteps echoed through the silent street, swallowed by the darkness. The young woman grumbled to herself while about how annoying people were and how they just let you down. Especially when it came to working at a busy pub on a Friday night.

Tiffany, the other bar staff member, decided to call in sick at the last moment. She was always pulling stuff like that but the manager let her get away with it. Playing the ditzy blonde helped in these situations. This led to an eighteen hour shift which apparently birthed the busiest night of the year. Izzy growled in pain, her work shoes rubbing awkwardly against her little toe. An eighteen hour shift which resulted in four drunken men old enough to be her father offer her a night to remember, having a pitcher of beer spilled on her and someone throwing up beside the bar. Today had not been a good day. And then there was the flat.

Four years ago, she thought she had found the love of her life. A sweet guy by the name of Thomas, who promised to be with her always and be the family she never had. Well, up until a year ago when Thomas decided they should start seeing new people. Apparently he didn't feel loved anyone since she kept going out all the time to work leaving his jobless arse playing video games. Izzy sighed staring up at the orange hued sky. She missed the foster home she grew up in. Nestled in a seaside town, the inky black sky peppered with bright stars. The cool sea breeze air would wrap itself around you. Not in London though. A concrete jungle which only offered annoyed passer-by's. At least it was night. Here the song of a thousand footsteps ceased until morning.

Thomas wanted to be here anyway. Said there were better jobs going. Probably wouldn't know honest work if slapped him in the face whilst naked. She flatly refused to move out citing the lease was in her name, Thomas didn't want to live his comfy hole neither. They both agreed he could stay there until he got a job and earned enough money to move out. Five months later he was still there. Playing stupid video game after another saying he had no luck finding a job. Bloody liar.

Izzy slid the key into the rusty lock, blowing a strand of fringe out of the way. Her hair was a short pixie cut with a long fringe that kept falling in front of her left eye. After the whole dumping incident, Izzy cut her usual long hair into small bobs and now this new cut. Thomas always said he liked long hair on a girl. In a small way it was a big 'fuck you' to her former lover.

"It looks nice though," she whispered, limping though the dark hallway. Everything in the flat was silent. The hallway was a mess again, stray letters and rubbish littered all over the place.

For someone who didn't have a job, the least Thomas could do is keep the flat tidy. Izzy sighed wishing she could start all over again. Escape this stupid city and find the perfect guy. If one exists of course. A blue light poured out from the living room. Izzy sighed moving towards it. Sure enough some title screen was on, her ex-boyfriend having forgotten to turn it off again. Upstairs the faint sound of snoring could be heard from the second bedroom, they really fought over who would stay in the master bedroom. Of course, half time she came back from work Thomas was still playing some annoying game. The TV buzzed, displaying the title screen from some game named 'Fable'.

"I don't ask for much," she grumbled keeping up the Xbox controller and pushing the centre button.

"Our journey begins," came the starter voice from the game. Izzy squinted at the screen trying to see where to shut the damn thing up. Fable vanished from the screen, a white fog replacing it. She just wanted to go to bed. No work tomorrow, a nice warm bed to lie in on and she could attempt to forget her troubles again.

"Destiny awaits," came the voice.

"I don't want bloody destiny, I want to watch Doctor Who and then curl up in a ball," said Izzy, pressing all the buttons.

"Isabella Taylor," said the voice of the game. She paused, the controller slipping from her fingers. A cold sensation jetted around her body.

"Today you walk a new path, a path of destiny, a path of heroes. A new world awaits you,"

Before she could react or even scream, a white light poured into the living room, blinding her until darkness swiftly followed.

OooooOOOOooooo

It's smelt of earth after rain… petrichor, the musty smell that told you the earth was alive with a scent. The faint tapping for rain could be heard drumming against the ground. It felt rather chilly. Izzy groaned hoping Thomas hadn't left the bloody window open again. The damp in the flat wasn't bad but she didn't want it getting any worse. The landlord was already getting huffy about the untidy nature of his property; adding the damp problem would cause more arguments. She curled up on her side trying to reach her duvet to pull it further on. It wasn't there. The mattress also left really squishy, like it had absorbed a lot of water.

Did I kick it off, she thought, slowly opening her eyes. Her head felt fuzzy like she'd been drinking. Letting out a small yelp, she bolted upright, fully awake now. This wasn't her home, this wasn't even indoors. Somehow, she had managed to wake up in a graveyard. Then the memories of what happened in the living room came back.

"Oh fuck all kinds of duck," she breathed, pulled her jumper around her. At least she wasn't in her night clothes and still in her work ones. They provided a small amount of heat. The place stank. An unpleasant stench of bog water, mud and death. It filtered throughout the dreary place, attaching itself to anything nearby. All the gravestones were either broken or had been chipped away at.

Izzy noticed she was lying under a gnarled tree that shielded her from the rain pouring over the graves. It was desolate, barely any signs of life, not even a hint of anyone visiting the graves. The rain continued to hammer down making no hint that it would soon. It sucked out the remaining colour from the world making it seem bleak and depressing. The other trees hung low their claw like branches scrapping at the dull earth.

"How the fuck did I even get here?" Izzy asked aloud, her throat feeling dry and horrible. No sign of life nearby or any form of signpost telling her which way to go for civilisation.

"Well, this sucks," she commented, peering out from under the tree. There were paths leading towards more woods. No clear path anywhere, just graves and scarecrows.

"Why would they have a scarecrow in a graveyard," questioned Izzy, mentally kicking herself for speaking out loud. That was the first sign of going crazy. Then again she had woken up in a strange place in the middle of nowhere after the whole game incident. The scarecrow sagged against its post, limbs loose and barely remaining upright. Stupid place to put the thing anyway. People would be freaked out by graveyard; the scarecrow just added a more unnerving nature. She squinted through the rain trying to make out its features. Was that a skull for a head? A faint moaning could be heard nearby. Izzy jumped peering through the cascading rain.

"Hello," she called "fuck, don't say that. People who say hello in horror movies die."

The moans continued getting closer. The scarecrow lunged forward claw like hand reaching out for the young woman. Izzy screamed falling backwards, landing harshly against the earth, mud coating itself over her body.

Skeletons wielding rather nasty weapons powered towards her, their undead status not interfering with any motor functions.

"This has to be a dream," she whispered, a bullet whistled passed her ear gently grazing her cheek. Izzy poked the cut, feeling a small amount of blood ooze through. It started to sting. "Ok. Not a dream."

Another undead fell forward trying to gut her with a rusty sword. Izzy dived to the side, watching as the blade was buried in the earth. The skeleton roared wrenching it out the earth once more. Without wasting another moment, Izzy scrambled upwards hoping she was faster than a dead man. Her legs were still stiff from the night before but life or death made her ignore the protests. The undead soldiers followed, their loose bits of armour clanging against their bones.

"Why, why, why, why, why?" panted Izzy, pushing aside branches as she ran into the forest hoping it would cause the undead some trouble. Branches scrapped at her clothes tearing them and leaving small scratches on her skin. Blood oozed to the surface but she continued through. It was like the trees themselves were trying to stop her escaping a grisly death. The rain poured harder blocking any clear view of safety. Heart pounding against her chest, with laboured breathes she continued on. Until a stray root caught her around the ankle, tripping her up. The undead moans came closer again.

"I don't want to die," she sobbed, feeling hopless, trying to stand but slipping on the wet earth.

"Grab the sword," said a faint voice. She looked up, fear, confusion and hopelessness pumping through her body. Nestled in a tree not far from her, was a sword coated in moss and trees vines. It stuck out from the tree, its hilt completely free, begging someone to pull it out.

"Better than nothing," she said, crawling forward. The skeletons circled their prey waiting for the right moment to strike.

Not one to give up easily, Izzy staggered forward wrapping her fingers around the hilt and tugging it with all her might. The sword slipped out, a white light bursting forth disintegrating the nearby dead men. The light travelled down her left arm, strips of leather growing around it forming a gaudlet of some sort. The light continued to course across her whole body until it slowly faded leaving her standing in the forest alone. Even the rain began to die down a little.

"That sorted problem number one," said Izzy, hands shaking from the access adrenaline. The sword gleamed in the grey light giving her a silver grin as the last pieces of moss fell from it. The bones of the skeleton warriors lay motionless on the floor, a few turning into nothing but dust. Shakily standing upright she started to wander down the clearest path. The rain soon stopped leaving behind the sodden earth that squelched with each step. The faint smell of smoke filtered into her nostrils. Exhausted, annoyed and lonely, she followed it hoping it would lead someone nicer. The forest was thick with vegetation, the low hanging trees themselves looking like they had given up all hope. This wasn't a pleasant place to be. Izzy knew she should probably be freaking out by now. But somehow it didn't feel helpful. It would add to the list of growing problems. Crying wouldn't help either; it would just result in puffy eyes and runny nose. The smoke smell got closer until, through the warped forest branches; she could see some form of fort.

"Oh please be populated by an army of Tom Hiddlestons," she said, dragging her aching feet forward. It didn't seem all that impressive. Just a random building in the middle of nowhere. It was still better than nothing. The sword weighed heavy in her hands as she looked up at the brown gates. Thankfully it had dealt most the damage to the undead; otherwise, she had no idea how to use it. She thought about knocking but that seemed a little silly.

"Hello," she called, feeling even more silly than knocking.

In the fort

"Did you hear something Swiftie?" asked Ben Finn, stopping his shooting practise. Major Swift paused for a moment listening out. It was so much easier to listen for the enemy now that blasted rain had stopped.

"Hello," called a faint voice.

"Aren't most of the men out on a scouting mission?" said Swift, feeling irked that some fool was calling out. Although the hollow men didn't usually appear until now, there was always a risk.

"It's only you, me and Jammy but he's a sleep after the last wound," answered Ben. The duo looked at each other confused. Barely anyone came to this god forsaken place. The men knew which entrance to use, how to get in and out without using the front gate. Why would someone appear now?

"Go see who it is, there's a good lad," said Swift, puffing more smoke from his pipe. Ben shrugged, strolling up towards the lookout post. A little excitement or a new face would probably liven up the place. He looked through the hole. Down on the water infested ground was a girl. That certainly did surprise him. She was covered in mud, scratches and holding a rather speculate sword. Her short dark hair was sticking up in awkward clumps and looked dead on her feet.

"Oi, Swiftie, there's a girl down there," he yelled.

"A what?"

"A girl, you know, those nice smelling creatures with boobs,"

"Shut up Ben, I know what a girl is. I was confused on why one was here,"

Ben popped his head the opening and yelled down to the girl who paced uneasily around the entrance.

"Oi, what are you doing out there?" he shouted. The girl looked up, pale skin streaked with mud and blood. Her forget-me-not blue eyes flashed with annoyance.

"Doing the tango, what do you bloody think?" she snapped back. "I woke up in a strange place, lost, got attacked by the cast of Thriller and now I'm being asked stupid questions."

Ben chuckled a little confused on what a 'Thriller' was. Some form of new play out in the great city? At least her manner ruled out any unpleasant suspicions. Bandits rarely came to this place and even then, they knew better than to take on a fort.

"Alright calm down, I'm opening up the gate, so you'll be safe."

The girl dragged herself through the gate, Swift quickly reached forward, hoisting her up and placing her on a nearby chair.

"Are you alright dear? No fatal injuries?" asked the Major, staring at the girls strange but torn clothes. He hadn't seen anything like them anywhere in Albion before nor some of the fabric.

"No just a couple of scratches," she answered, running a finger over the cut on her cheek.

"What's your name?" asked Swift, kicking aside a few empty mugs and pulling out some ointment from a nearby box.

"Isabella Taylor. Izzy for short,"

"Very good, I am Major Swift and this is Captain Finn. Ignore most things he says,"

Ben strode over noting that all her clothes were torn and drenched in rain and mud. She shivered clutching tightly to her sword.

"You can let go of that, no one's going to hurt you here," said Ben, trying to find the smallest uniform in the pile of spares. Hopefully this was the clean pile. Then again the smell of Mourningwood made sure you never knew what was clean or not. Swift gently rubbed the ointment on the cuts while Izzy slowly released the sword.

"Don't know how to use it anyway," she admitted.

"Why have you got it then?" asked Ben, raising a quizzing eyebrow.

"It was the only thing between me and those skeletons. Found it in a tree, some voice told me to take it," explained Izzy, feeling uneasy.

She had seen Thomas play this game, Fable, before. She hadn't seen much only a few cut scenes but these guys were in some of them. Swift looked like a nice gentlemen, had a very impressive moustache. He appeared stern but gently cleaned up the cuts. Being a Major probably met giving a glare or two to keep the men in line. Ben Finn on the other hand smiled at her as if she was a surprise present. His blue eyes glinted in nearby firelight. This guy was clearly the joker of the camp.

"What the tree near the graveyard?" asked Swift, pausing from cleaning the cuts.

"Uh, I believe so,"

The men exchanged a worried glance.

"What? Did I do something wrong?" she asked, growing concerned.

"Not exactly, it's just, well only Heroes were said to be able to pull out that sword," answered Ben, looking down at the silver blade.

"Oh," said Izzy, paling further.

"So… Are you a Hero?" asked Swift, finishing off the cleaning duty and going back to smoking his pipe. Izzy shrugged looking nervous.

"I… I don't know, I just woke up in the graveyard and those zombie things attacked," She said.

"You don't remember anything from before?" asked Swift.

Yeah, sure, the fact I'm from a world that this is just a game and you're nothing but a collection of data, let's go with amnesia thought Izzy.

"I can only remember my name," she lied, hoping the two men wouldn't pick up on it.

"Poor sod, we can't send her off anywhere," said Ben "plus we can't really spare any men to take her." Major Swift raised an eyebrow at the Captain starting to see what he was proposing.

"You suggest a young woman stay here in a camp full of men who haven't seen one in months,"

"Well, no offense to her but she has short enough hair and with this uniform, the lads won't be able to tell if she's a he or not,"

"You do come up with daft plans Ben,"

"She can stay in my tent with me,"

"Now that's a stupid idea,"

"You wound me sir, I wouldn't take advantage of a maiden so,"

Swift glanced over at Izzy then back to Ben. Finally he shook his head and stood up walking over towards a barrel. He poured a drink, chugging it down.

"Fine but you train her and make sure nothing happens to her. We could do with a Hero around here," said Swift before walking over to his own tent.

Ben threw the uniform at Izzy, hitting her square in the face.

"Go change in the tent over there, the lads will be back soon. Your name is Isaac Taylor and your my new assistant, got that?" explained Ben.

"Uh, sure," she answered, picking up her sword and the clothes.

"Oh and Izzy,"

She turned.

"Welcome to Mourningwood,"

Ah, all the fun of hollow men and rather dashing soldiers. Hope you enjoyed that chapter, more to come and more to find out. Until next time.

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