Fire, Ice, and the Kraken (Fate X ASOIAF, Jalter quest)

[X] You were ordered to discipline this city, that includes its soldiers too, these men are wasting precious time.
-[X] Strike Vogoros in the throat, then the spine just below the head.
--[X] You don't really care if you kill him or merely knock him unconscious, you wish to silence him in a way that gives some deniability about how dead he is.
--[X] Spare the flirt, tell him that you are not as patient as Arturia, so you will let the Captain deal with Vogoros when he awakes. Pass on Saber's instructions, and tell him to make sure the rest of his command makes no trouble for you.
--[X] Lift Vogoros with one hand and dump his body to the side and out of the way.


The taller commander pushes Vogoros away from you and speaks to the petulant commander, "Can't you see Vogoros, you glory hogging imbecile! The Head Captain has ordered her to come with us to raise the troop's morale with her beauty! She's here to sing us songs and extol our virtues as we march to certain victory, the men certainly need it."

Vogoros shouts back, "If you were thinking with your head rather than your cock for once, you'd see that..."

Lera looks at you with worry, inside you feel boiling hot. Your rage is building, and your grip on St.Catherine tightens, The fire inside you is building up. These men are idiots; they're outrageous conduct just earned them the grudge of an Avenger.

You don't know how these monkeys got into their position, not through being a good commander that's for sure. They seem like great fighters, but they have no sense in hierarchy nor military organisation.

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() = Characters speaking in Valyrian


Their argument gets heated as you walk towards them, this scares Lera, and she shakingly anticipates your next move. The two commanders don't notice you as you get closer, but their soldiers do, and they stand guarded and tense.

You're treated with a closer view of Vogoros's Gorget with its patterns and decorations indicating his status. You really really want to strike through his heart right now, but you can't guarantee how the rest of the soldiers would react to that. Whether they attack you or cower in fear, it would waste precious time all the same.

So you restrain yourself. Your hand blurs, accompanied by the screeching sound of twisted metal, Vogoros stands stock still as he immediately shuts up as his eyes roll upwards to his socket, while the taller commander looks at you with shock. The silence after the argument is deafening and Lera seems strangely confused, though you take in the sight of the shameless flirt's jaw utterly drop. Vogoros's body slumps, but before he falls, you grab him by the forearm and toss him away. He flies majestically as the sound of metal meeting brick accompanies his landing, the regiments look towards the direction in which Vogoros flew and back to you, Araquo does so too.

Must be a surreal sight for them to see a girl barely 160cm tall throw a man in full armour, this betters your previously foul mood. You look up to Araquo's stunned face and pull him by the hair towards you. That gets a verbal response from him as he, "ooh" and "ahh" in pain.

The moment his face is at the same level as yours you give him a baleful stare as the soldiers looks steadily on the both of you two. He sweats a little bit at your glare, "Listen here you incompetent dog, we've wasted enough time already with your bickering, and if you don't want to end up like your friend back there, you'll do your job and take the market bridge. Now tell your men that we'll be marching fast before the situation gets worse then it already is, you got that?" He nods, somewhat frantically." Good, If I get any trouble from these men or from you again, you'll find out I'm not as patient as your Head Captain."

He stands straight up, his face lacking the jovial expression he had before, good he's serious now. The man shouts with his booming voice before 700 men lose control over the scandal they just saw, " Vali! memēbagon se gūrogon arlī bisa oktion!"

The guards become silent before organizing their formations and marching towards the North Market.

You walk ahead of them as Lera follows closely, conflict and confusion evident on her face.

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You spot Fish Monger square and the large tavern in its centre, Lera sees it too before cringing in frustration, "Shoot!" she exclaims, "We forgot your helmet Ms.Jeanne!"

You restrain from facepalming yourself at that, and look back at Lera, "shit, I'll dash ahead Lera, go on without me," She responds with a hesitant look, "I'll be back quick", and she shakingly nods. It's a good thing she reminded you of that, you were planning on doing a little bit of burning today, so It's best to hide your face in front of all the fire-worshippers on the bank across, it'd be less troublesome. Though your armour is quite distinctive, no matter.
That spiritual signature... a servant?
You reach the tavern faster than anyone here could and are treated by the sight of armed private guards, sellswords, and weary merchants look cautiously at you. The once vast lobby has turned into a sort of encampment, guards are posted around entryways for rebels to enter in as merchants huddle up together in the centre as they discuss their plans for when this revolt is done. You nod to the receptionist and race towards the stares in blinding speed, there is no time to waste.
Wait a minute...an Alter?
You reach your room in record time in search of your helm, spotting the sack it was in at the corner of your room. You grab and put it on you as you adjust the straps. You notice that your sight is a bit limited, but it is a negligible issue, but you sense something wrong in your room.
Avenger...
The sort of wrongness where everything in this room was replaced by its exact copy, where you feel something at the back of your neck. As if at any time something will grab you, pulling you into an unwakeable sleep, you look back to see nothing was there. The room and all of its furniture are still there, the water fountain still runs water and the weapons Lera previously used are laid around the ground.
Ah-ha, I see you
The feeling of wrongness comes back again only now that feeling is accompanied by inaudible whispers. They surround you, increasing in volume as your head throbs in pain. You endure it as you see a small dark figure near the entryway to the balcony. You can't see any of its features other than its white soulless orbs that are placed at where you think the eyes should be on its face. It peeks at you, its soulless eyes indicating no thoughts to you. You unsheathe St.Catherine, and the figure disappears as if it was a figment of your imagination. You walk towards the balcony where the figure was to see no trace of it, could it be a trick of the light or a servant.
now who are you?
The whispers grow more intense, you feel your eyes and ears leak blood as you keep yourself from collapsing somewhat successfully, leading you to fall to one knee. You immediately remove your helm and check how much blood is bleeding out of you, before that images rapidly appear in front of you. Images of your family's prized cow grazing the plains, of a blonde girl living an idyllic life with her parents, of a short romance in your village before you took up the sword and flag. They all appear consecutively before the theme changes, now you see images of decapitated heads atop of spikes on castle walls, the constant gore and death in the battlefield, and you see a far away figure crucified on a stake.
A witch! Just like me...
Something...something's looking into your memories! You wipe off the blood dripping on your eyes and ears and put on your helm. You will yourself off the balcony as the whispers and images subside. You fall down like a rag doll as you attempt to recover and stick the landing.
Y'AI 'NG'NGAH, SUT-TYPHON
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You are Lera Stassaris, and you're marching with Guard Captain Araquo to the Long Bridge. Your mind follows the rhythm of the regiment's step as they march step by step by step. The rather tall commander beside you has been rather focused, his face adopts a somewhat severe expression, clearly thinking of something. He looks down to you and asks you a question in Valyrian, "(That woman...who is she to you?)"

You're quite hesitant to answer him without Jeanne around, so you stick with a dull response, "(She's my liberator.)"

"(Who'd she liberate you from?)"

"(Dothraki)" You keep your responses short, but you're weirded out by how the man gulps at that.

"(She freed you from the Dothraki?)"

"(Yeah, defeated most of their men and took me in)" The slave soldiers behind you look at each other, some of them adopt expressions indicates their disbelief, some look with wonder; guess some of them think that you're a liar.

"(Vogoros and I really did mess up...)" You roll your eyes, none of this would've happened if they weren't such undisciplined commanders. If they had thought critically to the reasons why Jeanne was with them, maybe they would've gotten the hint.

"(It's idiotic to anger her, have you heard of what happened in the fighting pits)"

"(Just wild stories of a champion slaughtering two dozen men yesterday)"

"(That was her)" Araquo's eyes widen like saucers.

"(oh...)" A long pause ensues after that, His undergoes many expressions, from fear to contemplation, to bold determination, he then turns to looks at you inquisitively, "Is she seeing anyon--"

"I'm here" Your lady's muffled but commanding voice interrupts the conversation as she drops down between you two.

"Where did you come from Ms.Jeanne? I did not see you approach us."

Jeanne's head turns to face you, you could barely see her yellow eyes through the helmet's 2 curved visors, but you see no strand of out hair coming out of it. "Jump down from one of the rooftops." Araquo scrunches his eyebrows in confusion while you only respond with an "Ah."

Araquo chooses this moment to speak, his voice focused and laced with fear, "You come right on time, my lady" You could see Jeanne roll her eyes beneath the visor before turning towards Araquo, "We're just about to arrive at the Market Bridge."

Your lady nods, and vocalizes her acknowledgement with a "hm".

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You're the Dragon Witch and ever since your return to the tavern you felt watchful eyes stare at you, never leaving you no matter how fast you go. You're grateful for the helmet because you're sure Lera would notice some of the blood you haven't wiped from your face yet.

You, Araquo, and Lera arrive at the northern entrance to the Long Bridge while the regiment lags behind. A great feat of engineering that Long Bridge, would it be safe to say it might be much larger than the London Bridge you wonder? Would Saber know?

You see the civilians in disarray, running from something originating from the south of the bridge, you see husbands hold their wives tight, Mothers carry their babies firmly close to their bosoms, while Vendors run frantically with their goods, hoping that the mass of humanity, the chaotic tide of men don't wash them away.

Araquo speaks over the shouting and the screaming, "I'll have my men and Vogoros's establish order in this section of the bridge first. After that I'll have a few men look into the buildings for any survivors or Rebels, the main force will wrest control of the bridge from the cultists."

"What'll we do Ms Jeanne?" Lera asks.


Strats

[] I'll help your men kill the main cultist forces in the Long Bridge
-[] Just use St.Catherine
-[] Summon Your Lance (Will get weird looks)
-[] Use fire in this battle (In front of the Lord Of Light worshipping soldiers)

[] You and Lera will help establish order in the already secured parts of the Bridge. We'll follow behind your soldiers.
-[] Lera will talk to the scared and the panicking and redirect them towards the North Market while you fend off any cultists.
-[] You'll turn one of the buildings in the bridge as a safe house for panicking civilians, Lera and You will have the same roles as the vote above.
--[] Do you request any of his men to join for any of the two votes above? (Specify what number___he has 700 men in his disposal)

[] You and Lera will dash across the bridge, ahead of the Guard Regiments. Killing of any cultists in your way, using your fire magic out of the sight of the Fire Worshipping Soldiers.
-[] You'll dash into the centre of Cultist forces, kill off a large number of and find their leader if they have any
--[] Take Lera with you?
---[] Yes
---[] No
----[] She stays with Araquo
----[] You have a specific task for her (write in...)
-[] You rush through the Market Bridge to reach Bridgeton as fast as possible, culling the numbers of the cultist on your way. The faster you can establish order the better.
--[] Take Lera with you?
---[] Yes
---[] No
----[] Specific commands? (Write in...)

[] Write-in Plan

QM Note: Lera's survival is not guaranteed, it will be rolled, though the dc is quite high for death so she's most likely gonna get injured. Specific actions can mitigate that by adding negative modifiers to the roll for her death.

[X] I'll help your men kill the main cultist forces in the Long Bridge
-[X] Mainly use St. Catherine
-[X] Supplemented by limited use of fire (In front of the Lord Of Light worshipping soldiers)


You see the civilians in disarray, running from something originating from the south of the bridge, you see husbands hold their wives tight, Mothers carry their babies firmly close to their bosoms, while Vendors run frantically with their goods, hoping that the mass of humanity, the chaotic tide of men don't wash them away.

Araquo speaks over the shouting and the screaming, "I'll have my men and Vogoros's establish order in this section of the bridge first. After that I'll have a few men look into the buildings for any survivors or Rebels, the main force will wrest control of the bridge from the cultists."

"What'll we do Ms Jeanne?" Lera asks.

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The crowd passes the three of you as you contemplate your decision. Araquo and Lera wait for you to speak with bated breath. You're not too sure about Araquo, but you know Lera understands that whatever decision you make will ultimately affect the outcome of this battle. You're just that strong. Right now you want to make it to Bridgeton as fast as possible and establish order, but you can't just rush through the Long Bridge and leave Araquo's regiment to battle the cultists. It would leave your rear vulnerable until Araquo secures the bridge, and that would put your entire operation at risk.

Instead, you'll help him defeat the main force as fast as possible, which means some use of your fire is needed. Usually, you would need your lance to generate fire, but St.Catherine will do fine, just not as potent.

Your path is clear, destroy the main forces and head to Bridgeton while Araquo cleans up, that way you can settle this revolt fast. You hope Saber doesn't meet any complications with this revolt though; you feel that something is lurking about. Ever since you left the tavern, you have felt eyes stare behind you; you think it might have something to do with the revolt as it cannot be a coincidence. This concerns you because if that is true, then there are supernatural elements to this rebellion, you hope whatever entity is watching you doesn't slow you down. Or you'll kill it, whatever it is.

You look at Lera through your visor, and speak, " We'll aid Araquo in taking the main force head on, then we'll move to Bridgeton to fulfil our orders." You place your hand on one of Lera's shoulder, "You ready for a baptism of fire?"

"Baptism?" Lera asks inquisitively, Araquo looks at you confused.

"Your first battle." You clarify, she trembles hesitantly, and you give her a reassuring shake, "Don't worry, from what I've heard, they're just fighting common rabble, and Arturia says that you have good instincts with the sword, which is high praise coming from him." At this, Lera nods slowly.

Araquo meanwhile adopts an intense look as the three of you wade through the mass of humanity while the soldiers behind you manage them. He opens his mouth, then closes it, before speaking, "You've seen the Head Captain fight?" You nod in response, not sure of where he's going, "I've never seen him fight, and I always found it weird how a girly looking boy like him could reach to the position right after his predecessor's death. Most of us think that he curried favour with Maegyr and got his position as a result, but the longer he stays head captain, the more I'm convinced that he's a capable commander. He's got that..." Araquo gestures wildly with his hands as he tries to find the right word, "Air...he's got that air of a natural leader... like he's done this his whole life."

You shrug at that, "He more than deserves the position of Head Captain of the City Guard, I've seen him fight and command before and I almost pity the Cultist in the Temple District, they don't know what's coming to them"

Araquo nods and his expression tells you of a man who had his beliefs validated by someone, "You should tell me about it after the battle" You see Lera shake her head at the corner of your eye, though you're not sure why. Did Araquo mean something insulting when he said that? Was there some meaning he was implying that you're not seeing? Troublesome, you're not good at reading between the lines. He speaks again, "There's an inn nearby that has--"

Schlink

A man screams in agony behind you; it's one of the soldiers...he's holding a spear impaled on his chest and then collapses — a puddle of his blood forms around the body.

You look back again to see the mass of humanity disappear, replaced by ranks of dark-robed men in their menacing helmets. They all hold different weapons, but the most notable of all is a sword full of barnacles the lead cultist is wielding. There is a stillness after that as the guards get in tight formation, creating a wall of spears, tempting them to charge right now if they dare. Lera steps back as you and Araquo move forward. There's a considerable distance between you and the lead cultist as you wage a war of wills, staring intensely at him.

The leading cultist spreads his arms wide out and chants, "C' ymg' goka, nilgh'ri kadishtu ehye, gn'th'bthnk ot hlirghh." This stirs them into action as the rest of em charge, wielding a motley array of weapons. Guess its time for a proper show. You unsheathe St.Catherine and point it to the cultist.


You impose your will on reality as a jet of hot dragon fire manifests on St.Catherine's blade. The force of the sudden generation of fire creates strong winds that makes your hair flutter and pushes Araquo back a step. He stares at you with slacked jaws as Lera and the soldiers tremble to contain their wonder. You take a single step, and you're gone like the wind, you suddenly appear behind the leading cultist as the rest of his comrades stumble at your surprise appearance.

You swing, and St.Catherine blurs, the top half of the lead cultist falls off, but no blood comes out, his wound already cauterised. He loses grip on his barnacle sword and falls. The rest of the cultist recovers from their shock, but they're too late, you've already moved on to the next.

Schlinggg

Another falls, blood spurting out of his neck.

Schlinggg

And another is beheaded, his head tumbling to the ground.

You see five different blades come at you, but they're slow, slower than the Dothraki. It is to be expected of these common rabbles. You swing St.Catherine yet again, creating a trail of flame, some of their black robes catch on fire as the cultist quickly try to put them out. In the meantime, you've shattered all the blades coming at you with St.Catherine's swing and impaled one of your opponents, its blade sinking deeply into his sternum. You kick him away, separating your sword from his heart as his flying body hits his comrades.

At this point, you notice Araquo and his men charging at them with Lera lagging behind him, about time. It only took them what? Eight seconds to stop ogling at you?

You make short work of the cultists in your way, you've lost count of how many you killed, but you know that at this point St. Catherine would've been utterly drenched in blood if it wasn't for the fire.

Someone tries to pull your cape, but you pull back, sending the offender flying towards his friends, you cut his body up mid-flight, and only his upper torso reaches his comrades. That'll teach em.

You swing, slash, and stab your way to the centre of the masked men, as their numbers slowly disintegrate before you. The Guards finally arrived, and their spears find their mark. Its a slaughter as better armed and trained men initiate a melee with the rebels. The whole bridge descends into chaos. The Tiger Cloaked Guards fight the cultists with tenacity and ruthlessness which the cultist respond with equal courage and viciousness, whilst Araquo push through their lines with ease, his claw gauntlets slashing at the poor men that dare face him. You don't see Lera anywhere, which concerns you somewhat, but you're sure that somewhere in this battlefield, she's proving her worth.

Ahhh, nothing gets you going more than complete and total destruction. The smell of fresh blood leaking out of the wounds, the screams of agony and hatred between the men, and the sight of your flaming sword, you revel in it. You love every second of this fight, its perfect for a damned woman like you, to keep on killing and killing until you have no more strength left, that is your purpose. A purpose you're fulfilling quite well.

You're Jeanne D'arc, France's saviour and its conqueror. You are its saint and its witch, the protector and the despoiler, the hero and the villain. For you, a revolt on this scale is a trivial matter. These mobs are not the English Knights you've faced, they lack the organization and the strength, and they will fall.

You think you've adopted an ear-splitting smile though you don't really know for sure, all your focus is on the enemy in front of you. You've lost track of time, and the sounds of the world are all muffled to you. You think you've killed two hundred so far, maybe even three but you don't know for sure. What you do know is that a sword enveloped by fire hot enough to melt stone wielded by a powerful servant can cut really really good.

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You are Lera Stassaris, and this is your first battle. From seeing your lady's flaming sword, her first kills, and the uncomfortably loud sound of men shouting at the top of their lungs...saying that you're bewildered would be an understatement. Instead, you are numb and lost in the middle of it all.

You find a cultist isolated from his group, and he spots you too, you hope your short time training with Arturia will allow you to survive as the guards around you seem occupied. He approaches you quickly like a man possessed, wielding a sword shorter than yours. Your mind races a mile a minute before you get into a stance the knight taught you earlier today.

The man gets ever closer, and it makes you sweat. The only time you've faced someone with killing intent was the day you became a slave, facing that killing intent now makes you tremble. You think you would've stood still in shock until you remember Arturia's words from this morning.

Survival roll 1D100 => 93 (Not today!)

"Remember Lera" The memory of her speaks to you directly, "You're a woman, which is already a disadvantage. You'll be the weakest in the battlefield full of much stronger men, so don't bother with overwhelming your opponent cause your physique will not cut it. Instead, learn to redirect your opponent's strength, make their power their weakness. So Learn to parry. Now watch"

You come back to the present as the man initiates an overhead swing onto you as you move to intercept. You pretend that his steel blade was Arturia's wooden sword as her words come back to you, "hold your sword horizontally as it comes down to you. The trick is to tilt your sword to redirect his slash, like so." The clanking of metal meeting metal outright deafens you, but you follow Arturia's advice and tilt. His sword falls off to the side as he is left vulnerable. "Then you can follow this up by hitting your opponent with the hilt of your sword." The cultist stands in a daze after you hit him with your sword's hilt, he tries to come towards you, but he stumbles a bit and nearly falls. "Then rotate your sword, so the handle faces you rather than him and transition into the Hanging Right Stance. It is at this point that you could stab effectively, disabling him." Your blade sinks into his clavicle as he spits blood out of his mask. He holds your sword tightly and tries to pull it out, but you sink it deeper as his grip goes slack. He tenses up for a moment before collapsing like a ragdoll as you work to remove the long sword from his body. A part of you feels sick at the sight and the fact that you've killed a man.

Cultist Encounter: 1D100 => 77
Cultist Danger 1D100 => 80
Perception Roll 1D100 => 21 (maybe today...)
Plate Armour Protection 1D100 => 66 (Tommorow then?)


The moment you extract your sword, something hits you at the ribs HARD. You stumble and fall, grasping at your sides in pain. Even with all that armour, that hit was the most painful thing you've felt in your life. Your right side burns with hot searing pain, and you squirm needlessly, hoping that if you twist into the correct position, the pain would just stop.

Your mind is addled with agony, and in it, you catch a glimpse of a masked man looking down on you, hammer in hand. You notice that your armour is dented and that you could barely move without causing the pain to flare up even more. The man approaches you quickly and lifts his hammer before bringing it down.

Plate Armour protection 1D100 => 56

It lands on your abdomen as you jerk up in pain. You faintly hear the ringing of metal after the hit.

You hear the cultist grunts as he hefts his hammer up for a second time, you think he's gonna aim for your head. This is it. This is how you die. A messy death in the middle of Market Bridge. Despite how much it hurts, you can't help to grin. At least you'll die free, at least you didn't waste away in some savage tent made by pillagers, slavers, and rapers. It's stupid, and It's ironic, but you feel lucky to spend these last days trekking down to Volantis and exploring the city. You just wished it would've lasted longer.

Final Survival Roll 1D100 => 72

You hear someone shout and the mask man's choked screams. You painfully move your hair away to see a spear jutting out of your attacker's throat. The spear is removed as the man loses his grip on the hammer and the both he and the weapon fall.

You see someone with a tiger helm and chainmail approach you. He offers his arm as you slowly reach for it. You're pulled up slowly, the pain on your sides and abdomen still burns scalding hot. He pats your shoulder before giving you your longsword. You could barely stand much less hold a sword, but you manage like you always do.

The fact that you're still alive hasn't sunk in yet, and you looked at him listlessly. You look at the trail of dead guardsmen behind your saviour, some of their heads are smashed while the other corpses have heavily dented armour. Was this caused by that hammer-wielding man you faced? Did he go on a frenzy and you just happen to be on his way? Suddenly you feel lucky you're wearing full plate armour because if you were wearing anything else, you would share the same fate as those corpses wearing only chainmail.

"(I'll get you help)" He says in Valyrian, and right now, you just want to hug him and chant; thank you again and again until he grows sick of hearing it. You don't even get the chance, as darkness succumbs your vision.

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You're Jeanne d'Arc, and you're standing atop a pile of dead cultists. Your black armour is drenched in red and your hair too. The main force is gone, now there are just stragglers waiting to be culled by the guard.

You hear someone wade through the mess you've made; you look back to see Araquo walking with a limp and sporting some wounds on his shoulders. He stares at you with wide eyes. "That was eight hundred men, and you took on nearly half of them, or maybe even more." He says.

"I just got reckless," You say in between breaths, " some of em got lucky," You move your cape to show him the cuts on your thigh and the wounds on your forearm.

Araquo shakes his head, "Those are just light wounds. My lady"

"Don't call me that" you chastise him, "It's Jeanne."

Araquo nods, "Jeanne, you're a goddess on the battlefield."

You'd chastise him again for calling you a goddess, but he seems to be in some sort of trance right now, and you don't think anything you'll say on the contrary would penetrate his thick head.

You spot one of the Guards run towards you two, wading through the dead bodies. You wonder how the clean up will look like. "My lords," the guard says when he arrives, you grimace a bit at the way he addresses you, "The battle is won sir, the bridge is ours. Now all that is left is killing the ones hiding here like rats." Araquo nods at that, smiling a bit. "We also had reports that some of the men searching in the buildings have mainly found merchants and freedmen; they have not encountered any rebels, yet."

You choose this time to speak, "What of the wounded? The casualties?"

"Out of 700 men, 20 died, and 30 were wounded. Amazing numbers considering the volume of the rebel force."

"And what of Lera, the girl that was with me?"

"She has suffered major wounds and is being taken care of in the newly established encampment."

Damn, damn damn damn. You had thought Lera at least had some safety due to her proximity with the guards, but you guess they were just too incompetent. Araquo looks at you worriedly; you must be making a very serious expression.

It looks like the situation has changed, you were hoping Lera would come with you to establish order since you didn't know the language. But now, madness, just madness.

what to do...

[] Saber's orders cannot be fulfilled, check on Lera and stay with her until she's alright.

[] Go straight ahead to Bridgeton, you only need to pacify the rebels.
--[] check on Lera before leaving
--[] Take one of Araquo's men to help you translate. (if there are any that could speak your language, requires rolling)
--[] Write in...


How do you feel about Lera's wounding?
[] Worried, you hope she's alright.
[] Dismissal, If she dies now then she had no value to you to begin with
[] Optimistic, from the sound of it, the wounds shouldn't be fatal.
[] Write in...

QM Note: I'm considering making this fic based on a Fate AU, as the servant's inability to be harmed by non-magical weapons would be too powerful in this setting. And also because of other factors too.