Fetch's tale.
Our tale begins north. North of the republic of Darokin, where men are free and one's worth is measured in coin . North of the Great Forest of Alfheim, the last great bastion of an ancient race. North of the 5 mountains of Rockhome, where ancient treasures and evils are unearthed. Past the unrelenting sands of Yllarum, where dragons and djinns stalk the dunes. Past the endless plains of the horse lords, where the golden khan tramples all who oppose him. Even further north then the wrathful Norsemen, who are eternally locked in battle. Further north then the shattered Empire of Grom, a mighty empire raised by the demon king, now slowly splintering into city states. Past the knights of the frozen wastes, where life is harsh, and only magic and the strength of a blade determine life and death. North of the frozen halfling holds of Leeha...err wait...
not that far north...
Somewhere in the mythical frozen wastes is where our tale begins. Time is relative there. In Grom City, the emperors calendar says the year is 1070 AD (after the duke) , but time moves strangely in the frozen wastes and their calendars say 870 . (Maybe they have bad calendars, or more likely any historians that are raised there had their lunches stolen, and they died from hunger in the pitiless tundra) The frozen wastes is a savage land, populated by savage people. A few generations ago they were nomads, barbarians , and tribesmen , but after being exposed to the religious light of the Pantheon of Thaya in 660 , ( and the secrets of steel weapons and armor) their society was thrown into massive cultural and technological change. At their heart they were still merciless barbarians, but instead of wearing hides and wielding clubs , they wore full plate and wield two handed steel swords. The tribes were gone, and they were replaced by the mighty knightly orders. There were six main orders ( named after mighty beasts like the boar, lion, griffon, mammoth, narwhal, and squirrel ), and countless smaller orders (named after less impressive beasts like the bat, crab , husky, turtle, walrus, and caribou) . Despite their "uplifting" , life went on pretty much the same. They fight over territory , they battle against monsters, they even occasionally band together and crusade in the southern lands. Life was harsh in the north, but was basically good... a knight's measure in life was how many enemies he managed to kill before they managed to kill him .
Everything changed at around the year 863 ad. Which is around 207 or 7 years ago depending on which calendar you use. The earth shuddered and trembled as deities and demi gods stalked the earth. No one knew why these gods battled, but the common rumor was that a duel of divine powers was being played out in the north. Elder titans, disposed arch devils, maddened demon lords, elemental princes, and other outsiders ( a fancy name for creatures beyond the mortal realm) were engaged in a contest. The exact rules of this challenge were unknown , but the prize was for the mantle of Rawk, the god of war, the death bringer of the Norwa pantheon and by everyone's reckoning the land's most powerful,primal and cruel god. The first few years of this contest everything was thrown into chaos. Even the mighty orders were unprepared by the power of the challengers. This contest didn't go unnoticed. Mighty wizards and priests came from foreign lands to bear witness ( and to try to steal some of the powers) of these warring demigods. Armies were sent from mighty Thyatis, the Republic of Leeha, and the sundered city states of Grom. Roaming bands of thieves and bandits...err i mean adventurers also flocked there as well. Most however, were destroyed or vanished .
The northern wastes were engulfed in a cold soul draining mist, some form of magical residual from the great godly battles. They prevented and confused travelers, preventing for the most part expeditions to that cursed land except for the suicidal and the foolish for the last 200 years. Occasionally stories pop up every decade or so of a few survivors and mad men who found their way out of the mists. They tell stories of eternal battles, of ruined cities of obsidian , of fire creatures who burn with evil not heat. ... They tell of a mighty earthen behemoth who defeated all comers and awaits on his icy glacier. They tell of the surviving knights banding together and forming a mighty host to drive the invaders from their land. Tales of an endless horde of gnolls, of fiendish armies...and of the great plateau. Where an ancient god of war, tired of battle had created a sanctuary . A mesa raised from the frozen wastes that rose over a mile from the ground, high over the mists. Where no magic works and those who trespass tempt the god's wrath.
Of course most of these stories were greeted with doubt, and just fueled the curiosity of the local bandits...err adventurers to travel north. However during the year 1030 the existence of the plateau was confirmed by Captain Ramirez of the Grommish Sky Fleet. The Grommish Captain was on a diplomatic mission to Leeha from Grom City when fierce winds blew his vessel off course. Fearing the worse, he was surprised to discover that the damning mists of legends could be over flown with few adverse affects ( with the exception being attacked by winged demons and flying squirrels) As he was correcting his course he noticed a massive plateau which towered over the mists. As he approached his ship began losing power and only his skilled helmsman and his back up manual systems ( powered by some top secret magic) prevented a fatal crash. His skill at falconry allowed his pet hawk to fly to the plateau and deliver messages to and from the inhabitants. Being a Grommer , he didn't pass up this opportunity to trade and profit . He traded supplies and weaponry for barrels of wines and spirits, and plundered northern gold. Since that time, a few Grommish captains have journey there to trade . The journey to the plateau was perilous but the lure of cash is the siren call to the avarice prone Grommers.
On this desolate plateau a small settlement thrived. It was a simple settlemen. There was a garden , tended by an old woman called Gardener. The crops she grew were sparse but supplemented the food caught by Hunter, the huntsman. There was a small trading post, which dealt mostly in trades between travelers who passed by the plateau. It sold second hand weapons and armor, as well as a few mundane goods and sundries. It was ran by shopkeeper and his wife, Wife. There was a small smithy as well . There wasn't enough metal or coal to run a proper forge, but the three dwarves that operate it ,did a fine job on weapon and armor repairs and maintenance . There names were, King, Lord, and Bard. There was a fourth dwarf but he vanished awhile ago, he was aptly named Wounded. Finally the central building of the plateau was the grand Last Inn. It was operated by a man called Innkeeper and his wife called Hero. She left the plateau for months at a time , rumors had it she was a leader of a band of soldiers. They had a young son named Eagle. Most importantly there was the plateau's resident demigod, Drunk. Apparently he raised the plateau with his force of will , and was the only one who could perform magic in this sanctuary , and by all accounts he was immortal. He also drank himself into a stupor with the magic wine he created. Lastly there was also the inn's staff, there was an old dark skinned half elf woman named Cook, a busty young maid named Maid, and of course...
"FETCH!... FETCH!" , cried Cook with a foreign but stern commanding voice.
"Where is that useless boy? ", Cook grumbled.
Cook was a large menacing half elven woman with dusky skin. She was the newest resident to the plateau. The half elf knew Innkeeper before he settled there apparently and she fitted right in. She claimed to be a former priestess or soldier of some sort . Cook was a few decades past her prime , but showed little signs of the wear of age. She was tall for a half elf( a towering 6 feet) , her graying hair tied in a simple pony tail. From looking at her, it was clearly obvious the half elf seemed out of place at the inn. She looked like she was more suited on a battlefield , with weapon and shield in hand.
Maid shrugged her shoulders at Cook's question.
No doubt practicing swords or disturbing the guests again with his useless questions Maid thought, as she was cleaning tables.
Maid was a rare beauty in the northern lands. She came to the plateau when she was 12 with a caravan. Apparently her parents were slain, and the caravan master asked Innkeeper to take her in. Her curly brown hair, her radiant smile, and her low cut dresses were almost as much as an attraction for the inn as the local "demi god".
A thin , awkward youth stumbled through the back door, and hurriedly put on his simple breech cloth uniform. The uniform matched Cooks attire. It was a simple green cloth with faded yellow trim. Innkeeper liked his staff to look "professional" as he put it. Maid was the exception though. He knew it was better for the bottom line if she didn't wear the apron. The locals would riot if she did.
" Sorrry! Sorry!...look don't hit me ...I was busy stabling and feeding the horses of our guests.", stammered the youth named Fetch. " They have a lot of horses ! " , he cried, fearing the deceptively strong smacks of Cook.
Cook, fumed, then composed herself, " Ok, go fetch some water! NOW! ", she ordered while casually tossing a heavy pail at Fetch.
Fetch caught it with a pained grimace and raced back out the rear of the inn.
A bemused spectator , chuckled in the corner. Maid gave a slight gasp , as she didn't notice his presence till now .
"Don't mind me", said the cloaked nondescript man, "This is the first bit of "normal", Ive had in a long time. " , he said wistfully with a wink.
Maid smiled back at him with an exaggerated waitress smile and gave him a short nod. "Can I get you something to eat or drink my lord? We still have stew from last night, and the bread is fresh.", at first she didn't know who this man was, but she thought she might have been one of the sellswords accompanying the small band that came to the inn a few days ago.
"Bread will be fine", said the man. " So is it true? Magic doesn't work here? How do you people survive up here? Don't monsters attack?"
"Ah... its true magic doesn't work here, but the land is remarkably fertile, and Hunter is very good at his craft. As for defense...Shopkeeper,Wife , Gardener and especially myself are useless in a fight ," she replied with another exaggerated bar maid huff, " but the dwarves at the smithy are down right lethal with axe and blade. And of course I already mentioned Hunter , hes rather skilled with the bow,he once shot a snowball off my head to show off. "
" How about the inn ? This place seems sturdy enough.", asked the man , even though it was an understatement. The inn was more like a small keep with windows instead of arrow slits.
Maid exited the room, and returned with the man's bread, and continued the conversation where she left off. " Oh I've seen Cook toss out drunks twice her size, and once when gnolls swarmed the plateau, she got a hammer from her trunk, no not the smithy hammer or the one she uses to tenderize meat. A big war hammer ! ", once again gasping and giggling with the barmaid over zealousness," and smacked a half dozen of those beasts apart! "
"Fetch can handle a sword, I think he learns from Hunter , the dwarves and sometimes Hero. When Hero is here, that's the innkeepers wife by the way. Shes like a war chief or something, and nobody messes with her, or her soldiers will come or something like that. The Innkeeper, I assume he knows how to fight. Hes big and all, and aren't all innkeepers retired adventurers or something? Oh then there's Drunk. One time when a band of giants came to the plateau, ..he wandered into the midst of them. The giants took turns hammering him and chopping him up. It was horrible to watch...( her voice going to a whisper) he wouldn't die , no matter how horrible his wounds, they even tried to ..burn him...(she paused losing her composure for a sec) the giants retreated, unsure of what they were dealing with.( she said again with her barmaid enthusiasm.)"
"Thank you," said the man as he finished his bread. He left a generous silver, surveyed the quiet inn, and left through the back door.
"Fetch this, go get that, blah blah blah...", mumbled the boy named Fetch as he tossed a bale of hay to the horses.
Fetch was a tall boy , over 6 feet. Upon first glance at him, one would think thin. But he had that wry muscular look to him if you examined closer. He did all the mundane work around the inn. During the mornings he would help Cook prepare the days meals, at night he would help Maid with the inn's service. During the days, he would either help Innkeeper with repairs or one of the other residents with their work. The dwarves and Shopkeeper sometimes needed help moving stuff, or Hunter needed help setting traps or lugging meat around. Sometimes he had to weed gardens with Gardener. He grumbled about it, but at least they paid him. Despite his busy mundane life, he always found time to practice. Archery with hunter, melee with Lord. Even history, letters, and prayers with Cook. When he was younger..he even snuck around town with Maid. Playfully spying on his elders. These days, Maid doesn't play with him anymore, saying hes too big for that. She was probably right.
He heard all the tales from wandering sell swords, bards, and other adventurers that pass through the inn. He knew it was a big world out there, and he was glad he was here not out beyond the mists where monsters roamed.
Sure he faced monsters before. Every few months, bandits or worse tried to raid the plateau. He knew his limits , he was trained well. He knew he was a match for any bandit, most gnolls, even a wolf but he wouldn't dare face an ogre or a bear by himself. Cook told him, knowing your limits on the battlefield is as important as any martial skill. Hunter told him once, a clear mind is just as important as a strong arm on the battlefield. Lord told him, as long as you are standing at the end of the fight, you win.
Fetch was content to live the rest of his life on the plateau, but everything changed 4 months ago.
A band of adventurers, or ruffians as Cook called them, came to the plateau. It was the first time this particular group came to the plateau . At first they were in awe, but quickly grew bored of this place. They apparently met a band of Ogres or giants, that had maggots for blood and used fiery crossbows. They fought, were defeated and fled till they reached the plateau. The maggot ogres did not pursue however, and the group made their way up till they reached the inn. They were the typical arrogant adventurers that Fetch had seen a dozen times before. All full of themselves and wanting to pick fights, till Cook or one of the dwarves put them in their place. This group was different though . Sure they had a few big loud mouth warriors like all the rest, a preachy cleric that was useless without her magic, and a shady rogue, that tried to steal the silverware till Innkeeper or Cook caught him. This particular group had Nara. She appeared about Fetch's age, it was hard to tell since she was an elf . She had the typical elven grace and subdued beauty, that Fetch had seen before in other members of the sylvan race. She was of average height, lithe , had short dark hair and had the most striking green eyes. She radiated confidence and competence, but most importantly she talked, and Fetched listened. And when Fetch talked..she listened.
Fetch never met anyone like her before. They talked about monsters, about the north , about legends and tales . She answered his questions about the outside world, he answered her questions about the plateau. She told him that she was named after the famous tiefling Summoner Lady Nayra, the champion of Lueders. He told her that he was named because of what he did around town . It was a simple but effective naming system used by the old northern tribes. She told him , that she grew up in an orphanage in Grom City. She never knew her heritage or her parents. She took up adventuring to escape poverty. He told her that his parents were killed by a dragon in the wastes when he was a child, and he wandered in the wastes till he found the plateau and crawled his way up. He would have died if Hunter didn't find him.
Fetch never had a friend like her before. For the time in his life, he was not just content , but truly happy . Then one week later , she left. He knew that day would come , but she left without saying good bye or leaving a note. He asked Maid , and Cook but they said she didn't leave any messages. Fetch knew he shouldn't be surprised at that outcome. She was an adventurer after all. He was just a laborer at an inn. He was thankful for that brief time they spent together. So with a heavier heart, he set back to his daily routine. Trying to forget her and move on.
Fetch never forget her though. He thought of her everyday. He was told some people drink to forget. He tried some of Drunk's magic wine, but he didn't forget...it just gave him a headache the next day.
About 2 months past, and then... she returned! Her group was smaller. She also looked a bit more haggard, but Fetch didn't care, she was back. Nara seemed genuinely happy to seem him. They lied together that night she returned. She seemed a little distant and tired, but Fetch didn't care at that point. She was back. She told him her tale. She left and didn't say a word, because she didn't know what words to say, and hoped he would forget her. Her group went exploring in the ancient mines of the Diamond Khan, battled maddened beasts by the Walrus peninsula , and fought gnolls in an abandoned fortress. Finally they were ambushed by Fiends with fierce beards and sharp glaives. They slew some of her companions and the survivors retreated. When all seemed lost, they stumbled once again onto the plateau, which gave their pursuers pause.
Fetch noted the time discrepancy. It was like 2 years to his 2 months that she left. A common occurrence when one journeyed through the mysterious mists. He still felt a little betrayed that she left without saying farewell, but that didn't matter now she was with him again. He told her that he loved her. Never had he said truer words he thought. He felt his entire life leading up to this moment. She replied she loved him back, with a tear in her eye. He wanted to say more, but she silenced him with a kiss , as they laid together that night.
The next day when he awoke, she was gone.
Maid said that the adventurers had left early in the morning. Something about heading south back to Grom. Deep in his heart, he knew , that he would never see her again .
"FETCH!",cried Cook," Wheres that WATER!"
His train of thought was interrupted as he was lost in his day dream of the past.
The evening service was especially busy that night. Besides the locals and the small merchant caravan that arrived 2 days ago , a group of mercenary/swordsmen arrived late that afternoon. Fetch, thought he knew their type. They would drink too much, start a fight with one of the caravan guards, then Cook or himself would have to break it up. Thankfully though, they did nothing of the sort. They just ate sullenly and ...watched.
Probably too exhausted to cause trouble tonight , Fetch thought.
One of the Caravan guards on the other hand proved to be quite the entertainer to everyone's delight. He told a tale of a ruin in the swamp , crawling with snake men. Where a magical orb laid, that could control a dragon! Sadly no one knew how to use the orb , so the adventurers that sacked the temple sold it for a pittance.
He seemed quite worldly for a guard, Fetch thought he was an adventurer of some sort. Later cards and dice were being played. The nice nondescript guard seemed to be on an unlucky streak and lost a few coins, much to the delight of the dwarves, the other caravan guards and some of the sell swords .
After that he excused himself for some air, vowing to return later for revenge at the gaming table.
Fetch , stared at the crowded common room. He looked at the guards , and at the swordsmen. Some of them were missing and Fetch assumed they probably went to sleep early." They don't look that special he thought, I could do what they do ... I bet...", he thought to himself.
"FETCH!", a loud unmistakable voice roared. Fetch knew it was innkeeper and he sounded really annoyed. He quickly made a mental list , and breathed a sigh of relief when he was sure all his chores and duties were done.
The Innkeeper was a massive man, even bigger then Cook. He always kept his appearance tidy, and took great pains in his grooming. He looked like a cross between an ogre and a knight. Even though Fetch never saw him in a serious fight before, he was sure he could take a knight and an ogre on at once. No one really knew much about Innkeeper, save Cook and Hero , but neither talked much about him.
"Yes Sir," Fetch replied as he hurried to the back room.
"IS EAGLE in the common room? He's not in the kitchen or in the storerooms. Its past his bedtime!", Innkeeper bellowed with an edge of menace in his voice.
"No sir, Eagle is not here. I will look outside for him," replied Fetch. The Innkeeper was generally a reasonable man , but anytime his son was involved, his temper would flare.
Fetch quickly escaped outside. Even if he didn't find Eagle, at least he was outside and not inside. Poor Maid and Cook he chuckled.
As Fetch congratulated himself on his quick thinking, he saw a bit of movement several hundred yards away from the inn , near the center of the plateau. " Oh, I get to play the fox and the rescuer!" he smiled to himself.
He didn't want to yell out and panic Eagle, the last thing he wanted was to have to chase the brat around at night. So he swiftly jogged to where he saw the movement. The roar of the inn , quickly faded behind him, and he heard a muffled shriek. "Something's wrong", Fetch thought and quickened his stride.
When Fetch reached the spot he saw the movement he saw 5 of the sell swords, with something squirming and weeping in a bag. He knew at once it was Eagle. It was dark , but not complete darkness. He saw four of them wearing mailed shirts and wielding swords . The last one was bigger then the rest and was wearing a breast plate , holding the struggling bag over his shoulder.
"Quiet Brat! A nice ransom you will bring us , that big dumb Innkeeper shouldn't let his valuables run around so freely."
Fetch grew mad, he silently cursed himself for not having a sword or at least a dagger at hand. Lord would often tell him to always have a weapon handy, but he always scoffed at that notion. Now Eagle was going to pay for his lack of forethought. He needed to tell someone fast. No one would hear him over the noisy tavern. and it would alert the captors as well. He turned around and decided to quickly run back.
"Hey look what we have here", a sixth sell sword laughed as he stood in Fetch's path." Its that stable boy Fetch . What a strange name, its like something you would order a dog to do. I think dog would be a better name for you don't you think. " He laughed merrily at his own joke.
"Stop wasting time, he's useless ", said the man with the breastplate." One hostage is enough, kill the other one to show them we mean business."
Fetch knew he couldn't fight 6 armed men while he was unarmed. He might be able to outrun them, but he had to get past the last one first. Even if he did slip past him, he noticed a few had crossbows. He didn't relish a crossbow bolt in the back.
He suddenly grew frustrated at his predicament. Not only would he not escape and most likely die , but these bandits would steal Eagle, and make Innkeeper pay a ransom. Also the only girl he ever loved had left him, not once but twice without saying anything. Also when he thought about it , his life sucked. There was no future being a lackey at this remote inn.
Screw it, he thought. If I'm going down . I'm taking one with me.
Fetch, rushed the laughing man that stood between him and the inn. At first it looked like he wanted to slip by him, but he ducked within the surprised mans reach and head butted the mans nose with his forehead. A move that Lord taught him , in one of their sparring matches. His forehead stun a bit, but the sell swords nose exploded in blood as he dropped his sword and fell on one knee, grasping his face.
Fetch quickly grabbed the blade , and made a wild slash, at the man. The blade just grazed the shoulder of the wounded man. Fetch blamed both the darkness and his spinning head for the weak blow. Fetch prepared to finish the man off when a sharp pain exploded in his leg. A crossbow bolt was in his thigh, and he felt all his power quickly slipping away. He gave one last slash , but it was another glancing and hurried strike. It once again struck the bleeding man , but didn't penetrate his armor.
He laughed at himself , when he remembered Cook telling him mail was a good defense vs slashing weapon, better to to use a quick thrust then a strong swing. His laugh was cut off , when his jaw met the boot of an on rushing sell sword. Fetch found himself dazed. He dropped his blade, and was on all fours. His leg was going numb quickly. He knew an artery was hit and he probably wasn't going to make it .
All he heard was laughing , around him. The man who he disarmed, wasn't laughing though, he grabbed his stolen blade. "Ok Dog! I'm gonna give you a nice slow stomach wound...One that wont kill you ...yet...but your gonna lie writhing on this field. You will be too weak to shout, and all you can think of is pulling your guts back into your stomach. They will probably find you in the morning, hopefully one of them will put you out of your misery"
"Now,Now...there's no need for that. Kidnapping children is bad enough, but it takes six of you to kill one unarmed kid ? I don't even think goblins are that low.", a bemused voice said in the darkness.
A thin man in a gray cloak, walked out of the darkness, but he appeared unarmed." Now, i know you boys are looking for a quick buck, and I of all people respect that, but this is just unsporting. At least give the boy a quick death "
The man with breastplate unamused said."Kill him too"
Fetch wasn't sure what happened next. Two of the sell swords wielding crossbows, collapsed onto the ground with daggers in their throat. Another sellsword slashed at the grey cloaked man, but he was gone, and his blow instead struck the man Fetch wounded earlier. A blade flashed and two more men fell. Only the man with the breastplate and the squirming bag stood standing. He recovered from the shock of his men being slain and held a blade to the bag.
"STAND BACK! Drop your blade or the boy gets it. I mean it! "
"Oh, what makes you think I care about some innkeeper's brat. I only interfered because I thought the boy fought valiantly and deserved a better death.", despite his words the man sheathed his blade, and proceeded to retrieve his daggers.
"Back off, I've killed dozens of men...this brat means not...", his speech was interrupted by a dagger to his throat. He slumped wordlessly to the ground.
"Man , what a mess...I gave him a chance to flee, but he kept running his mouth off. I hate guys like that.", he turned to Fetch and squatted down to his prone body , " Look, here's the deal. I saved your life ..but i want you to do one thing for me. OK?"
Fetch stared at the man who stared back with cold dead eyes and just nodded.
"Ok, I didn't do this. Make up a story who slew them, but it wasn't me. Say you killed them or something... GOT IT?", he punctuated his last question while holding his throat seeking daggers.
Fetch nodded again, then the man was gone.
Fetch wasn't sure if he dreamed what happened. Surely that must have been the case. After the crossbow he must have started hallucinating. He clenched his eyes shut, then opened them. Sadly he was still surrounded by the dead sell swords. He grabbed a blade and supported himself with it, the wound on his leg wasn't as bad as he thought. He tied a quick wrap around it. He limped to the whimpering bag, and opened it. Poor Eagle was quietly sobbing in the bag, but stopped when he saw the familiar face of Fetch. Fetch ungagged and unbinded him.
"Get help. ", he whispered before losing consciousness.
Fetch woke up , but he wasn't in his straw cot. He was in one of the guest room's linen beds. He looked around, and saw Cook beside him, replacing the dressing on his leg.
"You're awake", said Cook .
"What..what happened ...is Eagle is he alright?...", Fetch asked.
"He's fine, he ran screaming into the inn last night, said Fetch was in trouble. Muttering something about you saving his life from the bad men. We would have probably ignored him, but he was covered in blood you see. A few of us ran to where Eagle told us, and sure enough, there you were, a half dozen men at your feet. You were out cold , barely supporting yourself on a sword...that was quite a feat. So you killed all six men by yourself?"
"So it wasn't a dream .", he whispered to himself, he remembered the man with the daggers and swallowed hard.
"Yes , I killed them I think. "...he paused..." after the crossbow hit my leg, I'm not sure what happened , I think errmm.. I killed them by instinct...I think."
Cook considered his words. " Well its not the first time I've heard of something like that happening, and that's pretty much what Eagle said too. .. Well done my boy. Well done, you surprised us all."
Fetch found out later, that the four remaining sell swords, left the inn during the confusion when Eagle arrived.
Lord claimed, that through his training, Fetch learned how to channel the power of a dwarven berserker.
The caravan , left the next day as well. The caravan master was quite impressed that an unarmed boy could slay six armed mercenaries.
Innkeeper and his wife Hero thanked Fetch repeatedly. Fetch never saw either of them act this way.
The story telling guard, returned later and won all his money back and then some. The next day he left with the caravan, but he promised to tell the tale of Fetch .