Fable - Blog Posts
📖 The Celestial Quest of the Valiant Knight:
‘As I, a humble knight, ascended the treacherous mountain, my heart brimmed with hope and determination. My kingdom had been plagued by endless wars, famine, and despair, and I believed the key to salvation lay atop this colossal peak. In my dreams, I had been visited by a celestial entity that beckoned me towards the summit. It whispered promises of guidance and assistance in these trying times, and I felt compelled to act on this divine message.
I had spent countless days and nights traversing the rugged terrain, battling the elements and my own exhaustion, but I knew I could not fail my people. As I approached the peak, the clouds parted, revealing an ancient, intricately crafted gate. This was the moment I had been waiting for, the culmination of my arduous journey. My heart raced as I hesitantly stepped forward, and the gate creaked open. A shimmering figure materialized before me, its ethereal light illuminating the darkness. The divine being had answered my call.
"My child," the celestial entity spoke, its voice resonating within the depths of my soul, "You have shown great determination and courage in seeking my guidance. Your devotion to your kingdom is truly commendable." My eyes welled up with tears, and I fell to my knees, grateful for the being's words of encouragement. "Rise, brave knight," it continued, "I shall grant you the wisdom you seek, for it is your destiny to lead your people out of darkness and into a new era of prosperity."
As I approached the divine being in front of me, I thought about what drove me to undertake this perilous journey. At the core of my heart, I had always known that the well-being of my people was of paramount importance to me. Their pain, their suffering, their despair had driven me to seek help from a higher power, and I realized that it was this deep-rooted love for my kingdom that had given me the strength to persevere through adversity. '
In the eyes of what once upon a time was his best friend, he could not help but shiver - though not from the cold.
He refuses to let this be his final resting place, he will not have Rae bury his best friend.
“The Idol and the Ass”, by Henry W. Phillips / Генри Филлипс, «Истукан и Осёл»
Picture by T. R. Sullivant ( Т. Р. Салливант )
An ass felt it his duty to destroy superstition, so he went up to the brass idol in the market-place and gave it a vigorous kick. A dog came to him as he lay groaning on the ground, nursing his broken leg, and said, “Well, did you prove anything?” “Nothing,” said the other. “Except that I am an ass.”
Осёл, который долгом своим почитал борьбу с предрассудками, подошел однажды к бронзовому истукану на рыночной площади, развернулся и с неистовой силой лягнул его. К нему, стонущему лёжа на земле со сломанной ногой, подбежал Собачонок и спросил: «Ну как?! И что ты этим доказал?» «Ничего… Кроме того лишь, что я осёл!..»
© Перевод
Simplicité (sociale-politique) volontaire?
(Critique simplette du roman "La ferme des animaux" de George Orwell) Nous sommes à des lieux de l’opus « 1984 » de George Orwell, voire à des années-lumière. Malgré un thème qui aborde les mêmes problématiques relationnelles entre mammifères de différents niveaux sociaux, « La ferme des animaux » est une fable simple (pour ne pas dire simplette) qui montre une évidence : la recherche de pouvoir et la complaisance dans l’ignorance. Ces dernières sont toujours au cœur de notre lente déchéance en tant qu’humanité. Un sentiment de supériorité vis-à-vis du règne animal persiste toutefois après la lecture de ce bouquin. C’est peut-être signe que je suis resté sur mon appétit (de carnivore) ou que je n’ai pas bien compris le message d’Orwell, inspiré probablement d’une philosophie maintenant révolue qu’est le Stalinisme. Développé autour d’animaux traditionnels de la ferme, l’auteur du court roman fait un parallèle entre ce qui ressemble à l’esclavagisme tel que nous le connaissons et le caractère intrinsèque de bêtes domestiquées par l’homme. Les bêtes se révoltent, prennent en charge leur destinée via une forme de communisme, tombent sous une dictature et reviennent sensiblement dans la même position d’avant leur révolte; un cycle bien connu et documenté de l’histoire contemporaine de l’homme. L’on prend plaisir à se demander quel animal nous ressemble le plus, comme lors de l’écoute de l’album « Animal » de Pink Floyd, librement inspiré de cette œuvre. Et c’est probablement là le seul plaisir tangible de cette histoire. Suis-je un mouton « suiveux », un chien binaire, un fort cheval avec des ornières, un cochon stratège ou un chat indépendant? Mais cette fable quelque peu réductrice laisse l’impression d’un cours 101 de géopolitique à deux sous, laissant de côté toutes subtilités possibles entre ceux qui ont le pouvoir et ceux qui le subissent. Même l’interaction finale entre les humains et les animaux donne dans la facilité. Peu de zone grise. Peu de finesse, mais tout de même un bon divertissement. Intentionnellement ou non, Orwell installe dès les premières pages un sentiment d’incrédulité et de méfiance face au projet animalier qui veille. De fait, il m’a été difficile d’être totalement sympathique à la cause des bêtes. La culpabilité qu’on tente de me faire sentir quant aux méthodes d’élevage du fermier-propriétaire colle difficilement, comparativement à notre époque de production de masse. L’on se réjouit tout de même du soulèvement des bêtes. Mon côté gauchiste/humaniste est ici mis à contribution de façon naturelle. Et la première chose qui me vient à l’idée en lisant sur la révolte des animaux est la série de la Planète des singes. L’on pourrait croire que Pierre Boulle s’en est largement inspiré pour son propre roman qui a lancé la franchise. Au final, je me suis surpris à rêver d’une mise à jour pour ce roman. Et si les poulets avaient été cordés dans des cages trop petites? Et si les vaches étaient « ploguées » pour leur sucer le plus de lait possible? Et si l’on établissait l’histoire dans une usine à chiot ou dans une industrie d’équarrissage de notre siècle? Orwell n’aurait pu deviner l’horreur de l’industrie alimentaire ou animalière d’aujourd’hui lors de l’écriture de son roman en 1955. Ceci est pardonnable et compréhensible, mais l’entrée en matière du roman donne un ton vieillot au récit. C’est tout le contraire de l’univers de Big Brother dans le roman d’anticipation « 1984 » dont la prescience est encore bien d’actualité en 2014. « La ferme des animaux » reste un bon outil de base pour soutenir un argumentaire géopolitique encore applicable de nos jours. Mais il faut lire ce roman avec une bière blonde bien froide et légère en main, sur une terrasse qui sert de bonnes côtelettes de porc. Note : Merci à Julien Leclerc (https://www.facebook.com/julien.leclerc.167?ref=ts&fref=ts) pour m’avoir prêté ce livre
"Deux pigeons s'aimaient d'amour tendre..."
(Fable " Les deux pigeons" de Jean De La Fontaine, a inspiré Charles Aznavour pour sa chanson, très belle chanson "Les deux pigeons".)
Dany ERDOCIO
“I feel when I question
my skin starts to burn
Why does my skin start to burn?”
— Fable.
Gigi Perez, the pain you cause me.
The Mosquito's Sting: A Tale of Boundaries Challenged
Once upon a time, in an enchanted kingdom, there was a mosquito that carried West Nile fever. This mosquito bit a wealthy man and a poor one, a Jew and an Arab, a white person and a black person, women and men, heterosexual cisgender and LGBTQ+ individuals. The story tells how people created protective barriers and divisions between themselves, but nature, in the form of the mosquito, pierced through these barriers and showed how easily something from each of them could seep into the other, revealing how arbitrary and temporary all these defenses and boundaries truly were.
The king of the kingdom ordered the mosquito to be locked in a golden cage and asked the wisest person in the kingdom, a little girl who understood the language of all animals, to talk to the mosquito. The girl listened to the mosquito's story and told the king the moral lesson that the mosquito had taught. Instead of punishing the mosquito, they made it an important minister in the kingdom. The royal physician healed the mosquito, and the kingdom's scientists transformed it into a beautiful prince.
The prince married the girl when she became old enough. She was the only one who saw the wisdom in the simple mosquito that had only come to sting. To everyone's surprise, as they did not know enough about science, it turned out that the mosquito was actually female. So, the wise girl ended up marrying a mosquito princess who loved to wear princes' clothes. The two of them lived happily ever after, a bit distanced from all other humans who were unwilling to give up the barriers and divisions that separated them.
When the people discovered that the mosquito was female and had married a woman, they wanted to punish her. However, the girl, who was once a wise child, ran away with the mosquito princess to the mountains. There, they lived happily, far from people's eyes and the fears that drove society. They listened to animals, studied life principles with them, trying to deeply understand their languages. Over the years, they published scientific papers that were meant to bring human society closer to their compassionate worldview, which looked broadly at life as one intertwined woven fabric.
little red riding hood
What makes a Fable game?
Is it the chicken kicking?
The landlording?
The humor?
No,
It is the red twink that causes problems on purpose
This is amazing
Cover of 'fable' by Gigi Perez.
It’s my first giveaway, and since I’ve been wanting to do one for a while. I decided to make this the best one I can! Thank you to everyone who’s been following me, and thank you to my awesome mutuals who I’ve come to think of as friends!
The rules are the same as most other giveaways: just like or reblog this post and if you’re following me, you’re automatically entered! Every additional reblog adds one extra entry for you. You need to be following me to enter, but new followers are welcome. Just please only follow me if you’re genuinely interested in the content I post.
Now, the good stuff! Prizes! There will be three winners, picked randomly using a number generator.
First prize: One OTP-based oneshot written by me and one aesthetic board for an OTP or OC of your choice.
Second prize: One OTP-based oneshot written by me.
Third place: One aesthetic board for an OTP or OC of your choice.
Some examples of my writing are here, here, and here. As a quick list of fandoms I can write for is below, starting with what I can be the most versatile with:
Fallout 1, 2, and 3
Dragon Age: Origins, Awakening, II, and Inquisition
The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion and V: Skyrim
Fable I, II, and III
Mass Effect 1, 2, and 3
As far as aesthetic boards are concerned, I have no limitations. I can make boards for any character, even characters from original stories! Some of my boards are here, here, here, and here.
The giveaway ends on August 20th! Good luck!
Soooo today was my first day as a Character Concept Artist, working on Fable at Playground Games 🥺 I'm so happy. Dream come true ! I'll do my best to do lots of cool characters !!!
Forest Spirits from my film Orisha’s Journey. Thanks for checking it out!
BATTLE for GAIA: Phoenix Quest
Comic Book Art
Hi! This is a fable from my comic (Phoenix Quest) called the “Battle for Gaia.” It’s a myth of how we get Day and Night, as described in a battle between the gods of light and darkness. Thanks! -Abdul
(Blambot Font: “Evil Genius” and some free hand by myself… traditional pen and ink)
Some more good news my film will be screening in Ghana on August 18th as part of the “Chale Wote 2016!” This means a lot to me, though I was fortunate enough to screen at festivals around the world, it’s now playing in my homeland for the first time! So I’m very grateful for this honor:)
CHARACTER DESIGN
FILM FESTIVAL
Hi!
Here’s the link to my TV Interview on “Divine Speech in African Traditionalism” which aired July 30, 2016. Feel free to check it out if you’d like! Also, here’s a rough sketch and detail of my Anansi “The Spider” character from my Graphic Novel comic (PHOENIX QUEST) Thanks!(O__O)
DIVINE SPEECH TV INTERVIEW LINK (Begins about 6mins in …)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MaFqZrCOEZE&feature=youtu.be
It was nice meeting you
Fable one shot
This takes place around 2 years after the events of Fable 3 and Logan is forced convinced to go to a festival is Oakfield. While sulking in the nearby woods he meets a someone with an appreciation for ale and music.
OC content
(———————————)
Even with the hustle and bustle of the golden oak festival, and the distant music of bards and the cheers of the crowd, Oakfield was peaceful, far more peaceful than Bowerstone had ever been with its loud and crowded city air, it offered an escape from the castle and the ever tiring looks of disdain from the Queens court. It was only natural that one could be swept along with the festivities and give their mind a break.
Logan however, could not. Even when he was there with the rest of Oakfield he couldn’t allow himself to relax, he stood away from crowds and watched his sister mingle with the townsfolk and dance with that soldier boy, actually enjoying herself. His mind was too preoccupied to join in, now and then he’d catch people staring, glaring at him, making him retreat even more. He had expected as much, he hardly blamed any of them for their discomfort, if his sister hadn’t come to him with such insistence and begged him to attend, he would’ve stayed home. He paced along the edge of the water, a fair way away from the celebration in town to give himself some space to think. Why was he here? Why did it ever occur to him that this might be a good idea? He could barely return to the castle without an intense wave of regret washing over him, a festival, with it’s joy and merriment and devotion to all things good and pure, was even worse for it.
Logan wondered if his sister had noticed his absence and if she would notice if he took a carriage back to the castle. His feet had barely began to walk back to the direction of town before a sound caught his attention. The sound of the festival had been muffled under the waterfall and rusting of trees, but he could hear this one clearly, the singing, and it wasn’t far from him. He walked cautiously towards the sound, towards the old Wellspring his mother had been all those years ago
As he approached the steps of the old ruined entrance, the music becoming clearer and clearer with each step he took, he could make out a figure at atop the crumbling wall strumming a lute and singing. The young man had his eyes closed with his head turned towards the sky, seemingly lost in his song. The sun shone through the trees making his chestnut hair appear almost red. Logan stood a few feet away from the man with his shoulders square watching as he’d muddle some of the words and curse under his breath before continuing his playing.
“Woe’s my heart I walk alone. Far from him…far from- far from…me? Oh for the love of…” The man’s voice had a soft lilt to it and it cursed again as the man repeatedly struggled with a section of the song and adjusted his position, he let the lute rest in his left hand and took a swig of an Ale bottle that from where Logan was standing appeared out of nowhere. “Oy Da how did you do it?” The man mumbled to himself and adjusted his position again so he could continue playing, before he could he looked up and noticed Logan standing a few feet away watching him intently “oy good Mornin’ down there! Howya?” The man beamed down at Logan, his enthusiasm at a crowd was obvious and the sudden change in atmosphere made Logan recoil.
“Pardon?” Logan put his arms behind his back, his blank face incongruous to the confused tone of his question.
“Howya. How are you? Enjoyin the festival?” Logan prepared to answer with a firm ‘no’ but the man continued speaking and he lost his chance “don’t let my current playing sway ya. I’ve got better tunes with me for when I perform I promise you that”
Logan looked at him curiously “you’re a performer?”
“Oh yeah! I’m on at sunset so I’ve got a ways to go yet” the man turned his body fully towards Logan so his legs were dangling off the edge of the wall. He rested the lute in his left hand again and took another swig of his ale, which Logan could now see did in fact not appear out of nowhere. He pointed towards town with the bottle in his hand “not havin fun?”
“I rarely find any social event entertaining, but my sister was expected to make an appearance and insisted I come along. I had to respect that” Logan walked a few paces to his right, his arms still glued behind his back. He looked back at the town, thinking surely his sister must have noticed he was gone now and he wondered if he should go back, the thought of the townsfolk made him shake off the thought.
They were silent for a moment, Logan now facing away from the man and staring at the town. His attention was back on the man at the sound of his giving a short whistle in his direction. His head snapped back.
The man pulled a face at Logan’s sudden acknowledgement before laughing slightly his hand holding his lute was extended towards Logan “Oy bud, mind holdin this, it’s just I wanna get down but I’ve got some drink in me and I don’t wanna drop her”
Logan stared at him for a moment before taking a breath and stepping toward him. He carefully took the lute from the man and held it in both arms.
“Right don’t break her” he pointed at Logan with the ale bottle in hand again “she belonged do my Da” he placed his foot on a protruding piece of stone from the wall and twisted his body so he could scale the wall down. Now and then his foot would slip and Logan would instinctively step forward but the man was quick even in his half drunken state and managed to catch himself before he fell, the wall wasn’t particularly tall so if he were to lose his footing, it would have little to no effect on him.
Once he was down he pulled at the cuffs of his rolled up sleeves and wiped at pieces of dirt that clung to his purple tunic. He was shorter than he seemed now he was facing him, coming up to Logan’s chest and Logan could make out freckles and a faint scar across the bridge of his nose. He took another swig of his ale and gestured towards his lute “Ta very much” he took the lute back in his hands and secured it to his back using a leather strap. why he didn’t do that before instead of pawning it off on Logan, he would never know.
The man went to take another swig of his ale but pulled a face when he realised the bottle was empty “Oy” the man gave a dissatisfied sigh “Right. I’m headin’ back to town if I wanna stock up on some drink before that thieving gobshite Colin nicks it all” He begins to walk away, turning back as he walked “it was grand meeting ya bud, come watch me perform yeah? Might cheer you up like”.
He turned away from Logan and sauntered towards the town. As he walked Logan took notice of his fingers tapping rhythmically against the ale bottle
Logan stood still for a moment debating if he should return to the town. He worried for his sister and a part of him hoped she was worried for him, for a moment he turned towards the town and prepared himself to walk back. Then the image of their faces flashed in his head, and he was reminded that no on in Oakfield apart from his sister really wanted him there.
He turned away and began to walk back to the stream.
The sound of that lilted voice yelling after him caught his attention and stopped him dead in his tracks. He spun around to see the man standing at the end of the path “Oy! Bud! my Mammy raised me with manners so I apologise”
“For what?” Logan yelled back at the man with a clear authoritative voice, addressing the man as if he were a soldier in his guard.
The man beamed. “For not introducing myself sure” he said it so matter of fact as if it was obvious as to why he was screaming at Logan from several feet away “I’m Braeley. Braeley Briggs”
Logan’s face remained stern “Logan” Logan bowed his head slightly “It’s a pleasure to meet you”
Braeley’s face dropped slightly for a brief moment and Logan felt his stomach drop at the resemblance to the looks he got from the townsfolk. Logan squared his shoulders in defence.
Braeley’s face furrowed in thought then changed after a few seconds and Logan thought he saw his shoulders jolt with a huff of laughter, then he smiled again.
“it’s nice to meet you Logan “
On the Dock
Fable 2 one shot
This is technically the prologue for a bigger fanfic that I’m in the process of writing but knowing me that’ll take forever so I’m posting it here as a one shot. This is basically a look at Sparrows mental state directly after the spire, that moment always felt weird playing it so here’s what it was like for Sparrow to live it.
{~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}
She didn’t move. The wooden dock creaked under her feet, the gentle waves wrapping around the beams securing its place. The wind pushed past her gently, so gently that her hair, her clothes, nothing moved. She didn’t move. The sounds of trees and the hustle and bustle of oakfield met her ears and she heard them but she hadn’t heard them, in that moment she was without senses, she took in no sound, she noticed nothing about her surroundings , she didn’t feel the wind sting her just as she didn’t feel the gun still in her hand. Warm. She didn’t move. She was separated from that moment, she was nowhere at all, her body stood on that dock but her mind was transfixed on the spire, away from it but staring. Staring.
There was a sense of injustice. Injustice at the fact it was over so quickly. Her whole life she had spent preparing for one moment, 20 years full of sacrifice after sacrifice all leading her to that moment. 20 years of purpose against a lifetime of nothing. It was over. Her vengeance gave her a reason, a reason to keep fighting not just for herself but for the world, for Albion, for Rose, and now she had nothing but a feeling of emptiness and a statue with her name. How could she live a normal life without that goal? How could she live knowing she filled no purpose? For the first time in a very long time she felt utterly alone.
Her faithful friend was taken from after her. Her companions had vanished one by one in front of her, leaving her behind, living their lives. One by one, her only comfort through it all, some more than others, some for more selfish reasons, had gone. Her quest was done, her half cocked mission was completed and all that was left was this intolerable nothing.
Why?
She blinked at the spire, her mind returning to that moment, the dock creaking beneath her feet, the gentle waves beneath it, the wind pushing past her short hair, and the sounds. She noticed it all. She clenched the gun in her hand and moved her gaze from the spire.
She didn’t move.
FABLE TRAILER FABLE TRAILER FABLE TRAILER
WE WON GANG AND I ALREADY HAVE A THEORY.
My friend and I had a rant after we saw the trailer cuz she is the only person I know who likes the game. And I was rewatching the trailer for the 10000th time and I noticed something. Every npc that the player talks to speaks in some way. All except one, the guy who puts his hand on the hero’s shoulder when Humphrey says ‘chancers’.
Now.
I might be being delusional. Or too in love to accept anything else. But I KNOW THAT PRETTY BROWN HAIR. I KNOW THAT NOSE. And I am CONVINCED that that mf has to be my boy Reaver.
He is the only npc that doesn’t speak, even the player speaks. Reaver has the most recognisable voice in the entire franchise (Therese being closely behind) thanks to the goat that is Stephen Fry. If Reaver was in the game they wouldn’t show any voice lines, they’d wanna have a semi big reveal like they did in Fable 3. Leaving hints throughout the game before they introduce him into the story.
And with this game being set before 2 (the guild being very much alive and very much not burned) this potentially being Reaver means that’ll be before Oakvale burned. MEANING WE MIGHT SEE IT.
And the hand on shoulder? The look? THE SUNSET? ROMANTIC MUCH?
WHAT IF???? JUST WHAT IF???? The ‘her’ that Reaver talks about in his diary entries in Fable 2 is the hero we play as in this game. It’s not as likely mainly because we don’t know if the hero will be strictly female, we may get a gender selection. But imagine!!!!! I will take any excuse to romance reaver! Even if that means I’ll be killed in a town spread fire after he sacrificed me to stay a pretty boy forever!
REAVER! I SEE YOU!
He is complete
First detailed drawing I’ve ever done of Reaver, only took me 5 hours
Hey hey hey. Look at my girl!
Suddenly got the urge to draw another sketch of my Hobw Robin. Took longer than needed
Theresa: “I raised the queen”
Hammer: “I befriended the queen”
Garth: “I fought with the queen”
Reaver:
This is for all those Sparrow/Reaver girlies
“How inconvenient”
“[Speaking about Lucien] How dare he betray me, we had a gentleman’s agreement, and just while I was betraying you!”
— Reaver (Fable II)
Reaver: what would you like for Christmas huh?
Hero of Brightwall: …
Hero of Brightwall: Did you fuck my mom..?
Reaver: What?
Hero of Brightwall: Did you fuck. My. Mom..?
One of my guilty pleasures is when I get hyper fixated on something, I like to turn them into MLP characters. So here’s Reaver from Fable as a pony
I regret nothing
