“The kingdom needs more than a revolution. It needs a new leader. It needs… a Hero.”
Ah, Fable, let’s count the ways. It is, perhaps, the only franchise in which we can delight in casting magic, shooting a pistol, managing property, and farting at our adoring public all in about two minutes of game play. It’s always a game that’s fun first and throws in a few snippets of a darker story here and there, but for the most part we’re content with running around like mad, making hot pies, strumming lutes, and popping those annoying gnomes right between the eyes with a well aimed shot. What we don’t expect, ever, is terror and tragedy in one fell swoop.
That swoop’s name is Walter.
From the get go, we learn that you are the daughter (or son) of the Hero in the previous Fable games, your older brother Logan is King of Albion, and the legendary Heroes of your father’s time are no more after his death; he was the last. Along with your faithful dog and your tottering but loving personal valet Jasper (as voiced by the affable John Cleese), the man that looked out for you the most during your childhood is Sir Walter Beck. Indeed, he is very reminiscent of a Falstaff-like character, rotund with wild gray hair, an excellent mustache, and a gruff but charming personality. He dotes on you like you imagine your father did when he was still alive but he won’t hesitate to challenge you, as is evidenced by your early sparring match with him. You like Walter immediately, and his witty charm makes you smile and laugh.
Walter brings you through the early tutorial stages. He’s by your side as your jerk-brother Logan forces you to choose between hanging innocent citizens or your innocent lover. He fuels the fire of political rebellion in you and teaches you the history of the Heroes, guiding you to the legacy your father left you through eerie, bat-infested catacombs (note: Jasper does not like bats and when Walter picks on him mercilessly their bromance is established). It is Walter that becomes the catalyst for your rebellion as you embark on the main journey of the game to sway the people of Albion to back you, the Princess (or Prince) to become ruler and depose your cruel brother.
Even though he disappears for great stretches at a time, especially if you bunk off to smith swords, buy yourself some new duds and take the time to color coordinate them all, and generally clown around in public, you can’t help but love Walter. Just as Jasper is always there in your Sanctuary offering his particularly Cleese-ian witticisms, Sir Walter is always patiently waiting in the background for you to finish your classic Fable fooling around so that he may lead you through the story. You love Sir Walter and you just can’t help it. His predilection to shout, “BALLS!” at the top of his lungs at regular intervals when he’s frustrated (which is often) sends us into fits of giggling every time.
We love Walter; we really, really do. We should have been smarter and we should have known, but for some reason our gamer senses were not tingling and we never detected anything amiss. We never thought Fable would be so merciless.
Things start to go wrong when we follow Walter to Aurora, a city on the northern edge of a continent in the southern reaches of Albion, composed of searing deserts interspersed with coastal shorelines. Very little is known about this place and it is frighteningly different from the lush green world of the mainland. It is in this wasteland that we meet The Crawler. Unlike every alien-bug movie that we’ve ever seen, the Crawler doesn’t burst from the sand and spit mucousy acid at us, or send millions of little buggy minions scuttering all over us. No, it systematically begins to tear down the walls of our psyches, finding out what we’re most afraid of and bombarding our senses with that. Keep in mind, we never see it either, not yet, and so we are suffering from a sudden hysteria with no discernible source. Awesome.
It psychically latches on to Sir Walter, leaving him blind and stumbling through the desert, and the brave and noble knight forces you to leave him behind. No! No, Walter, we can’t leave you behind! But, alas, our shouts go unheeded and we are forced to go on alone. Alright, Fable, you win; that hurt. We liked Walter, ok? A lot. Not long after we’ve left our childhood caretaker behind in the desert, blind and helpless, we begin to hallucinate…we see visions of the poor old man expounding upon his fears, his paralyzing phobia of the dark and tight, enclosed spaces. As if we didn’t feel guilty enough.
Luckily, we find the city of Aurora and the citizens bring the two of us to safety. Phew! Dodged a bullet there, didn’t we, Walter? That entire block of the story was like nothing we’d ever experienced in a Fable game before, and the closest thing might be the look on the Hero’s face when he remembers the burning of his village and the slaughter of his family in the original. But, well, we’ve seen that kind of story so many times that it leaves us…just a little lacking in compassion.
As the game progresses and your brother is deposed, you learn that Logan is not being an evil jerk just for the sake of being an evil jerk (see also: Final Fantasy’s Kefka). Logan is only doing what he believes is necessary to protect Albion against the greatest force of evil it has ever known: the Darkness. Uh oh. Apparently the Darkness intends to invade Albion and destroy anything and everything, plunging the world into… well… into a never ending darkness, really. Again, Sir Walter comes to the rescue in a very different kind of end game wrap up than we’re used to seeing. As Queen (or King) you need to delegate how your Royal Treasury is to be spent, whether for good or evil, and you’d better hope you have enough funds saved up from all your previous gallivanting around if you actually want to keep all of your promises (hint: it’s about 8.5 million gold).
You prepare for the invasion of the Darkness for an entire year, Sir Walter always by your side. While the threat of impending doom seems so far off, we’re not actually running around killing things; we’re delegating, we’re ruling, and it’s really rather surreal. Then the invasion hits and we’re jarred back to reality with an impending sense of dread; our shoulders start to itch and we feel like the Darkness is clawing its way up our back as Walter leads the charge.
Suddenly, brave Sir Walter Beck turns to face a creature that looks like it should be more at home in Half-Life than in Albion. It’s the Crawler. Then, in a move which would impress Ridley Scott himself, it grabs Walter and plunges its arm down his throat, taking his body over completely.
We should have seen it coming; why wouldn’t we have to fight against our loving, constant companion (besides our dog) who’s been like a father to us? Why wouldn’t we have to kill him? Throughout the boss fight, Walter begs you to keep at it, to kill him, it’s the only way!
Why is it always the only way?
We held on to the faint hope that, once defeated, the Crawler would be the only thing that died… but the rain falls upon Albion as Sir Walter Beck lies dying in our arms. It’s rare to become so invested in a game that the death of a non-player character causes such strife, but Lionhead Studios made us love Sir Walter like a father, and he will be forever missed.
If you feel like crying, it’s okay. We did,too
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