Mizu
Software Developer
- Location
- Victoria, Australia
Provide them in a spoiler at the start of the post, perhaps, alongside context of what they're for. That way people can see it if they're interested, and those just wanting story can ignore it.
Crimson Beauty of The Crescent Moon (Fate/Grand Order)
- Thread starter Vocalend
- Start date
Due to the nature of how I roll, they are tied to the progression of the narrative. Current plan is to use invisitext right before the thing they are meant to correlate pops up. I'll see more reactions on how people react to this.
Mizu
Software Developer
- Location
- Victoria, Australia
You, uh, could still write the narrative, rolling as you go, then grab all the rolls and stick them in a spoiler box at the top of the post? Like the below:
Initiative order: Hazō, Keiko. Summons will act at the end of the round.
Turn 1, Hazō: Substitute into SE zone (Supplemental; 14CP, 116 remaining ); HLAM (Standard; 20CP, 96CP remaining); Move (Supplemental) into SE-wall zone.
Turn 1, Keiko: Substitute into SW zone (Supl; 14 CP, 176 remaining); Summon (Stnd) for Pandā and Pandamonium (120 CP, 56 remaining); activate the storage seal in the CHAOS-suit pocket under her vest (Supl) to retrieve her stone-pattern camo poncho.
Pandamonium has been waiting around to be summoned and knew to within a few minutes when that would be. As such, he's brought some gear: a pallet containing a half dozen small casks of lamp oil with burning torches tied to them.
Turn 1, Pandamonium: Earth Element: Massive Scoop Technique (all non-free actions). Makes a ledge on the wall for Keiko to use as a hunting stand.
Turn 1, Pandā: Move (Supl) into the SE zone. Dash out across the arena floor to provide a distraction for Living Roots.
Turn 2, Hazō: Cast Living Roots (Stnd) at Effect 2 (26 CP; 104 left). Detect Pandā. (NB: Hazō is only getting 6 dice of perception since he's underground, but Pandā is the only source of vibrations in the area and he's actively trying to be heard, so he's kicking rocks and stepping heavily.) Move from SE-wall to SE (Supl) to where Pandā is now hiding.
Turn 2, Keiko: Maneuver: Create the Aspect "Death From Above" by concealing herself in the shooting stand with her camo poncho over herself (Stnd). Draws a tag-equipped kunai (Supl). Draws a tag-equipped kunai (Supl)
Turn 2, Pandamonium: Move down the wall about 30 feet (movement is free within the zone), set the pallet down (Supl). Cast Earth Element: Immobile Artillery Technique (Supl, but using his Stnd) in order to root your feet. Pick up one of the casks (Supl). NB: He is still holding the boulder from the Massive Scoop technique. It's enormous and chakra-enhanced but its specific abilities will not come up in this fight.
Turn 2, Pandā: Shift a bit, pretending to be a hunting Keiko.
Turn 3, Hazō: Surface (Supl; terminates the HLAM). Recognize that he's been conned. Spot Pandamonium over near the wall. Attack (Stnd). Substitute (Supl)
Perception check! Hazō comes aboveground to discover Pandā, not Keiko. Can he spot Keiko? She's well away from Pandamonium, fifteen feet off the ground, and under camo, so I'm calling it a TN of 40. He can't use FP on this check because it's a passive roll to see if he notices something, so he needs to roll it the hard way. (NB: This is my interpretation for this situation, not an official rule.)
Hazō, Alertness: 37. Nope, not good enough.
Hazō can see that Pandamonium is about to bean him and he doesn't know where Keiko is. Going underground with a new HLAM is an option, but it's a stall instead of actually progressing the fight. If she's not moving around then he's not going to be able to find her with Living Roots, so the best bet is to eliminate her ally and then try to dodge her attacks until he can localize her. He charges Pandamonium and attacks. (Sidebar: Y'all should say a big thank-you to @Velorien, since he has been adamant about not having a held-action mechanic in MfD. Pandamonium's entire primary purpose in this scenario was to get a shot off at Hazō; in many game systems this would have been modeled as a held action and would have gone off immediately. Unfortunately, that's not a thing in the current rules and Pandamonium needs to wait for his own turn before throwing, meaning that he's not going to get to throw because Hazō is going to take him out first. I did the math...let's just say that y'all should be very glad Pandamonium did not get his shot off.)
Hazō, Taijutsu: 43 + 0 (dice) + 10 (2 tags from PH) - 1 (PCJ): 52
Pandamonium is immobilized by his technique and cannot effectively defend himself physically, so Hazō will definitely desummon him. The time that could have been spent defending himself will instead be spent to slam his projectile into the pallet of oil-filled casks and burning torches that he brought with him. Flaming oil goes everywhere. Hazō must dodge the oil or gain 1 stress and the Aspect "I'm Friggin' on Fire!!!!", which will continue to burn him thereafter until extinguished. PCJ does not protect against energy damage, so it won't help with the fire.
TN: 55. [This is derived from Pandamonium's skills and currently-in-effect bonuses]
Hazō: 40 + 0 (dice). Hazō does not use FP on this because it would take too many and he could extinguish the flames if necessary and he doesn't have enough Aspects.
Hazō is Friggin' on Fire!!!! and has taken 1 stress. I'm going to be nice and say that he managed to get his arms up fast enough that it's just his clothes that are on fire—none of the oil got on his skin or hair.
Turn 3, Keiko: Pantokrator's Hammer (Supl, Effect:2, 16CP, 54 remaining). Prime the explosive tag on one kunai (Supl). Attack (Stnd). Leave her second Supl open for an emergency Substitution. Note: Casting the jutsu revealed her position, thereby negating the concealment benefit.
Keiko, Ranged Weapons: 40 + 10 (2 tags on PH) + 5 (invoke "(Formerly) Marked for Death") + 5 (invoke "Just Follow the Plan") + 6 (dice): 65 [NB: -1 FP. She had to reroll an initial -6.]
Hazō, Athletics (dodge): 40 + 5 (invoke "(Formerly) Marked for Death") + 5 (invoke "Team Uplift" [he knows how Keiko fights and where she tends to shoot]) + 4 (Substitution) - 1 (PCJ) + 0 (dice): 54
Hazō is hit. He takes (65 - 54) / 3 = 4 shifts from the attack itself + 1 for the kunai + 4 for the explosive tag - 2 for his PCJ = 7 shifts. The first 2 wash out the rest of his stress track and then there's still 5 to go. He can deal with this by taking a Mild and a Medium Consequence, which would let him keep fighting. Unfortunately, he's still on fire and he doesn't have any actions left so he can't get the clothes off this round or otherwise extinguish the fire. Next round he will sustain more damage which he would need to soak with a Severe consequence, so instead he's going to allow himself to be Taken Out. He's voluntarily TO'ing due to an attack so he gets to drop the largest Consequence that he took in that attack, meaning he only has a Mild.
Turn 1, Hazō: Substitute into SE zone (Supplemental; 14CP, 116 remaining ); HLAM (Standard; 20CP, 96CP remaining); Move (Supplemental) into SE-wall zone.
Turn 1, Keiko: Substitute into SW zone (Supl; 14 CP, 176 remaining); Summon (Stnd) for Pandā and Pandamonium (120 CP, 56 remaining); activate the storage seal in the CHAOS-suit pocket under her vest (Supl) to retrieve her stone-pattern camo poncho.
Pandamonium has been waiting around to be summoned and knew to within a few minutes when that would be. As such, he's brought some gear: a pallet containing a half dozen small casks of lamp oil with burning torches tied to them.
Turn 1, Pandamonium: Earth Element: Massive Scoop Technique (all non-free actions). Makes a ledge on the wall for Keiko to use as a hunting stand.
Turn 1, Pandā: Move (Supl) into the SE zone. Dash out across the arena floor to provide a distraction for Living Roots.
Turn 2, Hazō: Cast Living Roots (Stnd) at Effect 2 (26 CP; 104 left). Detect Pandā. (NB: Hazō is only getting 6 dice of perception since he's underground, but Pandā is the only source of vibrations in the area and he's actively trying to be heard, so he's kicking rocks and stepping heavily.) Move from SE-wall to SE (Supl) to where Pandā is now hiding.
Turn 2, Keiko: Maneuver: Create the Aspect "Death From Above" by concealing herself in the shooting stand with her camo poncho over herself (Stnd). Draws a tag-equipped kunai (Supl). Draws a tag-equipped kunai (Supl)
Turn 2, Pandamonium: Move down the wall about 30 feet (movement is free within the zone), set the pallet down (Supl). Cast Earth Element: Immobile Artillery Technique (Supl, but using his Stnd) in order to root your feet. Pick up one of the casks (Supl). NB: He is still holding the boulder from the Massive Scoop technique. It's enormous and chakra-enhanced but its specific abilities will not come up in this fight.
Turn 2, Pandā: Shift a bit, pretending to be a hunting Keiko.
Turn 3, Hazō: Surface (Supl; terminates the HLAM). Recognize that he's been conned. Spot Pandamonium over near the wall. Attack (Stnd). Substitute (Supl)
Perception check! Hazō comes aboveground to discover Pandā, not Keiko. Can he spot Keiko? She's well away from Pandamonium, fifteen feet off the ground, and under camo, so I'm calling it a TN of 40. He can't use FP on this check because it's a passive roll to see if he notices something, so he needs to roll it the hard way. (NB: This is my interpretation for this situation, not an official rule.)
Hazō, Alertness: 37. Nope, not good enough.
Hazō can see that Pandamonium is about to bean him and he doesn't know where Keiko is. Going underground with a new HLAM is an option, but it's a stall instead of actually progressing the fight. If she's not moving around then he's not going to be able to find her with Living Roots, so the best bet is to eliminate her ally and then try to dodge her attacks until he can localize her. He charges Pandamonium and attacks. (Sidebar: Y'all should say a big thank-you to @Velorien, since he has been adamant about not having a held-action mechanic in MfD. Pandamonium's entire primary purpose in this scenario was to get a shot off at Hazō; in many game systems this would have been modeled as a held action and would have gone off immediately. Unfortunately, that's not a thing in the current rules and Pandamonium needs to wait for his own turn before throwing, meaning that he's not going to get to throw because Hazō is going to take him out first. I did the math...let's just say that y'all should be very glad Pandamonium did not get his shot off.)
Hazō, Taijutsu: 43 + 0 (dice) + 10 (2 tags from PH) - 1 (PCJ): 52
Pandamonium is immobilized by his technique and cannot effectively defend himself physically, so Hazō will definitely desummon him. The time that could have been spent defending himself will instead be spent to slam his projectile into the pallet of oil-filled casks and burning torches that he brought with him. Flaming oil goes everywhere. Hazō must dodge the oil or gain 1 stress and the Aspect "I'm Friggin' on Fire!!!!", which will continue to burn him thereafter until extinguished. PCJ does not protect against energy damage, so it won't help with the fire.
TN: 55. [This is derived from Pandamonium's skills and currently-in-effect bonuses]
Hazō: 40 + 0 (dice). Hazō does not use FP on this because it would take too many and he could extinguish the flames if necessary and he doesn't have enough Aspects.
Hazō is Friggin' on Fire!!!! and has taken 1 stress. I'm going to be nice and say that he managed to get his arms up fast enough that it's just his clothes that are on fire—none of the oil got on his skin or hair.
Turn 3, Keiko: Pantokrator's Hammer (Supl, Effect:2, 16CP, 54 remaining). Prime the explosive tag on one kunai (Supl). Attack (Stnd). Leave her second Supl open for an emergency Substitution. Note: Casting the jutsu revealed her position, thereby negating the concealment benefit.
Keiko, Ranged Weapons: 40 + 10 (2 tags on PH) + 5 (invoke "(Formerly) Marked for Death") + 5 (invoke "Just Follow the Plan") + 6 (dice): 65 [NB: -1 FP. She had to reroll an initial -6.]
Hazō, Athletics (dodge): 40 + 5 (invoke "(Formerly) Marked for Death") + 5 (invoke "Team Uplift" [he knows how Keiko fights and where she tends to shoot]) + 4 (Substitution) - 1 (PCJ) + 0 (dice): 54
Hazō is hit. He takes (65 - 54) / 3 = 4 shifts from the attack itself + 1 for the kunai + 4 for the explosive tag - 2 for his PCJ = 7 shifts. The first 2 wash out the rest of his stress track and then there's still 5 to go. He can deal with this by taking a Mild and a Medium Consequence, which would let him keep fighting. Unfortunately, he's still on fire and he doesn't have any actions left so he can't get the clothes off this round or otherwise extinguish the fire. Next round he will sustain more damage which he would need to soak with a Severe consequence, so instead he's going to allow himself to be Taken Out. He's voluntarily TO'ing due to an attack so he gets to drop the largest Consequence that he took in that attack, meaning he only has a Mild.
That's what a Naruto fic I follow uses, and it works pretty well imo.
It is a way, but the way I am much more inclined to pick is from torroar's Quests, which goes as such:
(Awoken Hordes: 18+10+10-10=28/100)
(Ulric's Will: 57+15-5(Weakened Evil)=67/100)
Oskana squawks as she is buffeted by red winds, blowing into the air with such force that even the Whitewings struggle to remain on their mounts for a moment. The Flame of Ulric recoils in its place, the ice seeming to melt over the chains somewhat before struggling to refreeze. The weakening coincides with a resurgence from the beastmen. Many of their strange sorts are only incensed by the sheer amount of blood spilled, even though the vast majority is their own. A dozen minotaurs are driven utterly mad, striking aside pikes and throwing swordsmen yards away. It is the Hoarfrost Hellions that plug the gaps made, driven to even greater heights of zealousness with the presence of the Ar-Ulric himself. Berserkers of the olden days, granted life once more, that come charging in to throw themselves against the minotaurs. The regular gors and ungors, the pikemen can handle, especially with ogre support, but minotaurs are no mere beasts. They can be run through again and again without falling.
You do not see as the Hellions fall, one by one, because you are assaulted by something that comes bounding up out of the forest with something mixed between a yowl and all too human scream.
(Vile Presence: 78+10(The Drums)=88/100)
"Sigmar's balls!"
Oskana is forced vertical as she is assaulted by a slimy quadruple horned beast, its very appearance tearing at your eyes so badly as they avert themselves that you feel blood trickling down your cheeks. Her claws rend and tear, all four of them, wings beating desperately to maintain altitude as the jabberslythe clasps against her. A thump from its mace-like tail comes up to slam against the small of her back but thankfully she's more durable than that. God's above, the stink, the sensation, the very feeling of it being so close to you is an assault on every sense you possess, a cloying disgusting taste flooding your mouth with every breath. Visions of horror and things you cannot even properly understand assail your mind with every blink of the eye.
(Aerial Combat: 5+19(Martial)=24/100)
It is something you are entirely unfamiliar with, fighting something Oskana's size while being on top of her. The way she twists and moves, even with all the straps and ropes, is something near incomprehensible to you. Worse, the jabberslythe seems eager to get at you in particular. The way it claws and wraps its unnatural body around Oskana makes that more than obvious. But at one point, Oskana twists, enabling her to slam its wing into its head, but simultaneously allowing its claws to reach out and shred through the bindings that keep you on her. Just like that, in the passage of one second to the next, you are falling back and downwards through the air. Then, something worse happens.
Because its tongue is lined with fangs.
You know this because the moment it is able to disentangle its head from Oskana, you are caught by it stabbing out and biting into your chest, teeth writing with suckers emerging from the meat of it to better impact into you. A scream makes its way out of your mouth as it draws you in with impossible speed. Its waiting maw widens with a cracking of bone and tendon to accommodate you, with all of a second passing before you are drawn in. Its normal teeth are jagged sharpened things, the stench of its innards nearly making you black out simply on close contact. A solid crunch of its maw brings said things down on you, as well as a great many more which protrude out of the roof of its mouth and come down on you to stab into your armor and body further.
(Keeping A Grip: 43+19=62/100)
(Slaying A Form Of Madness: 97+19=116/100)
A wordless scream escapes your throat as you tighten your grip around Brain Wounder. This is not Karak Ungor. This is not a squig. This time, you're going to kill it and get out without nearly dying. Whether or not the jabberslythe is smart enough to realize that you are cutting it apart from the inside in time or not doesn't matter. Within seconds you have sliced off its damn tongue, cut open its lower jaw, and slammed your runefang up through the top of its head. Roaring as you reach out through the gore to grasp one of the horns and pull yourself free, you manage one last cut before Oskana snatches you out of the sky and leaves the rest of the corpse to fall down to earth. Your gryphon squawks and folds her wings beneath her, diving straight down, unfurling them for a moment just enough so that the two of you are not slammed into the dirt.
Instead she just drops you down before beating her wings again to regain altitude.
You don't even realize that its blood is melting parts of you until there is a bright flash of green around your neck.
(Major Wound Sustained! Light of Summer Activates: 65/100)
As for yourself, you roll into a heap at the foot of a gromril boot. Groaning, you unfurl yourself and steadily get up to your feet with aid from a proffered hand. Said hand happens to belong to one of the so-called Stonesouled. Their expression is completely inscrutable, the normally fearsome snarls worked into their helms missing entirely. If anything, the expressions forged into them are rather oddly blank. A not inconsiderable amount of your own melted skin and muscle – mixed with a not inconsiderable amount of your armor – sloughs off onto the ground, a pulse of green accompanying the regrowth.
"Hell of a thing up there, Count Hohenzollern," he says to you in guttural Khazalid.
Then he turns away and begins marching over to one of the lines.
(Ulric's Will: 57+15-5(Weakened Evil)=67/100)
Oskana squawks as she is buffeted by red winds, blowing into the air with such force that even the Whitewings struggle to remain on their mounts for a moment. The Flame of Ulric recoils in its place, the ice seeming to melt over the chains somewhat before struggling to refreeze. The weakening coincides with a resurgence from the beastmen. Many of their strange sorts are only incensed by the sheer amount of blood spilled, even though the vast majority is their own. A dozen minotaurs are driven utterly mad, striking aside pikes and throwing swordsmen yards away. It is the Hoarfrost Hellions that plug the gaps made, driven to even greater heights of zealousness with the presence of the Ar-Ulric himself. Berserkers of the olden days, granted life once more, that come charging in to throw themselves against the minotaurs. The regular gors and ungors, the pikemen can handle, especially with ogre support, but minotaurs are no mere beasts. They can be run through again and again without falling.
You do not see as the Hellions fall, one by one, because you are assaulted by something that comes bounding up out of the forest with something mixed between a yowl and all too human scream.
(Vile Presence: 78+10(The Drums)=88/100)
"Sigmar's balls!"
Oskana is forced vertical as she is assaulted by a slimy quadruple horned beast, its very appearance tearing at your eyes so badly as they avert themselves that you feel blood trickling down your cheeks. Her claws rend and tear, all four of them, wings beating desperately to maintain altitude as the jabberslythe clasps against her. A thump from its mace-like tail comes up to slam against the small of her back but thankfully she's more durable than that. God's above, the stink, the sensation, the very feeling of it being so close to you is an assault on every sense you possess, a cloying disgusting taste flooding your mouth with every breath. Visions of horror and things you cannot even properly understand assail your mind with every blink of the eye.
(Aerial Combat: 5+19(Martial)=24/100)
It is something you are entirely unfamiliar with, fighting something Oskana's size while being on top of her. The way she twists and moves, even with all the straps and ropes, is something near incomprehensible to you. Worse, the jabberslythe seems eager to get at you in particular. The way it claws and wraps its unnatural body around Oskana makes that more than obvious. But at one point, Oskana twists, enabling her to slam its wing into its head, but simultaneously allowing its claws to reach out and shred through the bindings that keep you on her. Just like that, in the passage of one second to the next, you are falling back and downwards through the air. Then, something worse happens.
Because its tongue is lined with fangs.
You know this because the moment it is able to disentangle its head from Oskana, you are caught by it stabbing out and biting into your chest, teeth writing with suckers emerging from the meat of it to better impact into you. A scream makes its way out of your mouth as it draws you in with impossible speed. Its waiting maw widens with a cracking of bone and tendon to accommodate you, with all of a second passing before you are drawn in. Its normal teeth are jagged sharpened things, the stench of its innards nearly making you black out simply on close contact. A solid crunch of its maw brings said things down on you, as well as a great many more which protrude out of the roof of its mouth and come down on you to stab into your armor and body further.
(Keeping A Grip: 43+19=62/100)
(Slaying A Form Of Madness: 97+19=116/100)
A wordless scream escapes your throat as you tighten your grip around Brain Wounder. This is not Karak Ungor. This is not a squig. This time, you're going to kill it and get out without nearly dying. Whether or not the jabberslythe is smart enough to realize that you are cutting it apart from the inside in time or not doesn't matter. Within seconds you have sliced off its damn tongue, cut open its lower jaw, and slammed your runefang up through the top of its head. Roaring as you reach out through the gore to grasp one of the horns and pull yourself free, you manage one last cut before Oskana snatches you out of the sky and leaves the rest of the corpse to fall down to earth. Your gryphon squawks and folds her wings beneath her, diving straight down, unfurling them for a moment just enough so that the two of you are not slammed into the dirt.
Instead she just drops you down before beating her wings again to regain altitude.
You don't even realize that its blood is melting parts of you until there is a bright flash of green around your neck.
(Major Wound Sustained! Light of Summer Activates: 65/100)
As for yourself, you roll into a heap at the foot of a gromril boot. Groaning, you unfurl yourself and steadily get up to your feet with aid from a proffered hand. Said hand happens to belong to one of the so-called Stonesouled. Their expression is completely inscrutable, the normally fearsome snarls worked into their helms missing entirely. If anything, the expressions forged into them are rather oddly blank. A not inconsiderable amount of your own melted skin and muscle – mixed with a not inconsiderable amount of your armor – sloughs off onto the ground, a pulse of green accompanying the regrowth.
"Hell of a thing up there, Count Hohenzollern," he says to you in guttural Khazalid.
Then he turns away and begins marching over to one of the lines.
Yes please
Chapter 1: First Blows
"Doctor, are you sure your calculations are correct?" The voice of Medea's Master rang clearly through the burning suburbs. A hint of irritation and wariness suffused through her voice. Well, it's to be expected. Her reaction, to be exact.
After all, their convoy have made its way for nearly ten minutes....
Force Concentration, Suburbs: 2
...And there are still no enemy to be found. At times, one or two aimless stragglers would bunch up on them, but they are easily evaded or dispatched. Both Archers in front of the Caster have — in that way experienced warriors talk without spaking — made a slight competition to take out as many of them as they could.
"Yeah, I'm certain. It's baffling to me too, but, uh, isn't this a good thing?" The disembodied voice replied to the convoy.
"Nah, it's anything but good, really." Billy piped up. "Because this is a telltale sign of an ambush. Speaking of..."
Nameless Strikes: 19
"Intercept."
The order from the Master was clear, broadcasted to both Archer and Caster. In an incidental unison, the two of them made their move, intercepting and blocking the projectiles of a distant Archer. Solid barriers of purple and the cracking retorts of a smoking revolver make for a vivid display of audiovisual spectacle that would be much more appreciated in a less life-threatening scenario.
All the while, the convoy kept on moving, amidst projectiles shot down with contemptuous ease. Medea herself didn't even need to do much, the younger Archer has a tight handle on the speed. Marksmanship, it seems, is a very good skill for this particular scenario. Each shot from Billy would hit an arrow, which in turns explodes mid-air like fireworks.
As if an afterthought, the convoy reached the edge of the blasted city.
"Right," The Acting Director started, "I'll have to revise the time estimate for arriving at the cave entr-" His words stopped to a halt. "-More hostiles!"
Force Concentration, City Outskirts: 54 + 5 (Increased Intensity): 59
Indeed, in front of the convoy of Servants and Masters and one unconscious Magus, a swarm of skeletal husks awaited. Without so much as a hesitation, they rushed straight forward.
"Tch," Billy clicked his tongue as he shot another arrow down. "Well, darn. Guess the luck can't hold out forever." The Caster didn't make any noise as she silently incanted her personal enchantment spells on Hinako. For the most part, she didn't actually need to augment much of her strength. Her focus is more on making the Elemental faster. So much faster.
"Mashu, support."
Tag Team: 60 + 15 (Medea's Enhancement): 75
The pavement cracked in web-like patterns from Hinako's dash. With a flash of her sword, scattered pieces of bones were all that remained. The front ranks of the rabble proverbially disintegrated, each swipe of the blade reaping whirlwinds of destruction. This has the effect, of course, of nearly isolating the Master in the midst of husks.
An effect mitigated by the presence of the Shielder, her arrival heralded by the disintegration of a skull from a direct hit. In a possible future, Medea mused, her Master would have to made movements to defend herself from the husks, potentially stalling her progress in clearing out the blockade. But here, in this instance, the large shield covered the frame of the two inhuman fighters, the aegis weathering hits from many slapdash weapons without a sign of relenting. It lasted for only one instance, as the swordswoman launched herself outwards, continuing her dervish trance on the husks.
In the end, it wasn't even a contest, not against the two. Even as the hostile Archer continued an assault repulsed by herself and the Kid, they continued onwards.
Parables and Stratagems Old: 73
"Doctor, please scan the buildings around here." Her Master requested in a sudden.
"On it. What's the matter?"
"Find which of these buildings are structurally sound. We can use them as cover. Caster, prepare spells that can make holes big enough for us without compromising the integrity of these buildings too much. Keep with the same formation."
Billy whistled. Bunking down? He thought they were doing just fine. "And when can I start going for that pesky Archer, Master?"
"In time, Archer." The flat reply brooked no retort. "Safety in numbers for now. Doctor, make a path that gets us as close as possible to the Archer and to bridge."
"Right." Faint sounds of machines operating could be heard in the background. "In the meantime, Miss Medea?"
"Yes?"
"Look for the skyscraper with the red lobby. It's one of the few left in relatively good shape around here." Indeed, to the group's left, such a building is seen, although rubble and debris filled the ground floor to the brim on account of the ruined remnants of the skyscraper lying next to it.
A wordless wave of her staff cleared a straight path amidst the rubble. "Done. Let's not tarry then."
Nameless Interception, 2nd Attempt: 20 - 10 (Applied Parable)
The King must profess to herself, it has been quite awhile since she worked with someone this incompetent.
...No. Not quite. The Mud may claim seek to claim ownership on her soul. It may have indeed brought to fore a side of her that is not-quite her but still her. But regardless of that, she remained herself. A King. Even driven through an unceasing tar of corruption, a King will remain as such. A far ruthless and vicious King is still a King that ruled with a crown, after all.
In contrast, her fellow Heroic Spirits are... not quite of lesser stock, no. But broken in ways that made them that much more different than herself. In ways that makes them broken, instead of bent like hers. In ways that makes them weaker than they could be.
But that doesn't excuse this level of failing. No. Even an Archer broken as he is now, a machine far more deader than the husks roaming the burning lands, could not have failed this badly. No. Then the conclusion is simple. The enemy is skilled. A tactician of sorts have emerged amongst their ranks. A Servant? Or perhaps the visitors from a time different than this one brought with them such gifted mind?
The truth is irrelevant for now. But there's one fact that she knew to be inviolable. One that, by process of elimination and extrapolation, is simply the case.
None amongst her foe have the power needed to crush through by brute force. Brute force unavailable...
...and thus unable to contest her own.
Stance set. Energy gathered. Energy amplified. Energy released.
The Fae-Crafted Blade: 92 + 25 (Excalibur) + 10 (Absent Owner): 117
Easy. She didn't need to even swing a second time, as she viewed the dark beam of light carve its path as it crashed and destroyed the bulwark of safety that is the Church. With its mistress' out, there can be no saving it. There will naught be tapped wellspring of magical energy for the Caster now, as she noted the mushroom-like cloud in the far distance.
Of course, she still needs to make the second swing.
She locked eyes with the broken Archer, clarifying intent on her part. He pointed blankly at the direction of her target.
Very well then.
Stance set. Energy gathered. Energy amplified. Energy released.
The King Have Had Enough of Your Insolence: 63 + 25: 88
Medea felt it before she heard it. Everyone heard it, the torrent of dark energy passing by them... and going behind them. That does not stop the feeling of the pits of her stomach sinking as connections to her Temple became lost in a frazzled and jumbled mess.
"Master-"
"I know. This changes nothing." Her words, simple. Yet there's a hint of grimness that wasn't there before. No one said a word what just happened, not even the younger Archer did. The implication was quite clear, after all.
Or perhaps none were able to say it, as the intent of death hit them with such a force that only one thing could be the case.
"Medea!" The shout of her Master occurred just split second after the sigils, those of protection and safety, traced the air. She didn't need telling what needs to be done here.
Scattering: 39 + 25 (Mana Rank): 64
But what needs to be done, did not. Perhaps the sudden loss of her Temple made it so. Perhaps it was because of the suddenness of the assault. But to not enough avail, the hastily erected barrier of violet light that clashes with the dark beam failed. It was a good enough attempt, however. But even as Medea felt her spell had failed, everyone knew that death would await them if they stayed.
"Run."
No one need not be told twice. The rascal of an Archer blasted his Noble Phantasm, carving a secondary path out of the rubble. The older Archer followed suit behind him, a shield made from motes of light shimmering around him. The Shielder and the Elemental that was her Master dashed through the planned route, their force of arms breaking concrete and bending steel alike.
Survival Roll, Medea: Auto-Success.
As for the granddaughter of Helios, she wrapped Ritsuka with her cloak, and tapped the coffin with her heels once. Ancient Grecian runic flashes bright before searing out of existence as reality inverted itself around Medea, the young Master, and the still comatose Director. As she felt the blast from Excalibur ceasing, reality turned back to normal, depositing the three a far distance behind where they had started, in what would have been a busy street before all the chaos occured. She released the wrapping of the cloak on the Master, but keeping a steady grip on her shoulders as vomit came out of her mouth. It is to be expected. No one survives their first teleportation with their insides fully in. Sadly, neither of her skeletal guards made it out, that's a shame.
"Status report!" The voice of Romani voiced out, panic apparent. "Is-Is everyone alright?"
"Young Ritsuka is vomiting from teleportation but she and I are okay." Medea paused, "And the Director too. Still unconscious."
"Kuh, Billy here!" Came the choked sound of the rascal from a direction strewn with rubble to her left. Medea patted the small of the back of the young Master, helping her heave her vomit out quicker as the coffin glide across the way and up a small hill. She feel the connection with her Master still intact on the other side of the hill.
"The other Archer present." Came the calmer reply of the Israelite. As Medea came up the rise of the hill, she sees the shimmering shield around David. While Billy is covered in soot and dust, no blemish can be found on the self-proclaimed 'other Archer'. She did see something else though, her Master and the Shielder Servant. And-
Marked: 44 + 10 (Out in The Open): 54 vs Y'Gonna Shoot On By Without Saying Howdy, Partner?: 60
Barely, oh so barely did a single silent arrow, unseen by her senses magical senses and perhaps intentionally so, nearly struck her as a trio of thunderclap destroy it. Medea looked at the sight of her saviour, the still panting Archer on the ground, his smoking revolver pointed at the air.
"Oh that is it. Master, I will be off now." Without waiting for any response, the outlaw bounded, dusts scattering at his wake.
'Hmph, fine.'
Medea turned to face the source of the telepathic sound as the auburn-haired Archer climbed up the rise. She paled a bit then, staff gathering violet lights all around.
Skeletal Buildup: 69, 60 + 10 (Increased Intensity): 69, 70
A truly sizeable force of reanimated husks clambered from all around the city and beyond, a veritable sea of wrongness that surrounded the island that is the duo. This must be where the greater amount of the Husks present in the city are concentrated. Were they simply here, waiting in ambush in a coordinated manner? Or was it a simply coincidental design that this had occurred. The truth mattered not now, not as she prepared to provide relief for the beleaguered inhuman duo.
The Shielder heft her shield upwards. It was — not a coincidence, successful attempt on mimicking the subterfuge used by Caster at the cemetery — unfortunate that she ran headlong to the frankly hundreds upon hundreds of Husks. Yet, somehow — they are weak, you are not — fear does not overtake the homunculi's heart. Behind her, a sigh is heard. "You ready?" Two simple words, with surety and confidence behind the placid tone — of an experienced fighter — anchored her and made her strive to do her utmost.
Shield and Swords, A Whirling Duet of Death: 97 + 15 (Medea's Enhancement): 112
And her utmost is done. Plunge the shield here, duck and shatter the legs there, feel the weight of the allied Master as she balances herself on the flat of the shield and whirled like a top. Move then, swinging her around and carving more and more pitiable horrors to submission.
She jumped soon, afterwards, the blades master not missing a beat and carving another hole in the crowds. A new hole that you make your way towards, ensuring that the attacks of the hundreds never hit her. You can take the hits instead, the concrete blocks shattering on your back yet unremarked. You barely register the pelted pieces of concrete rebars and metal poles as you parted the seas. A particularly large husk came down upon you. You backhand that one, sending shattered rib pieces away and its towering, decaying figure at the hordes unending and toppling them. And you are upon the blades master once more. Her whirling steel instruments stopping for merely a beat to let you inside her guard before continuing. A beat that you did not let the foul husks chance to be exploited as you shatter two interlopers seeking to wound her.
No words were exchanged, none needed to be. In this instance, the two of you are in sync. It is here, in the heat of battle, did you truly begin to understand her, a singular scrap of beginning. Measured, practical, but inelegant. Her strikes may seem refined but it was clear here and now that it's only a coincidence. Hers is style of brutality that is unintentionally beautiful. And here as well, she tries understands you, if a bit here as well. Stammered and staggered movements only perceptible to those paying attention such as yourself, she tries to measure her own movements against yours, ensuring that she doesn't overreach and strain the bulwark you provided for her. There's a heart within her, you note. But like that of your Liege who now is against you, it's one that is buried and inhuman.
Pagan Assistance: 32 + 25 - 5 (Temple Destroyed) + 10 (Overcritical Success): 67
The Shielder Servant blinked as the violent violet firepower made itself known to her eyes. Both herself and Hinako had killed plenty and crippled plenty more. But though they have killed much, the firepower of a Servant of Medea's caliber do much more. Already, the searing beams raked the seas in a way that is trivial for her but not for them. Already, the path blocked by hostile decay is cleared.
And that was good enough.
Medea nodded with satisfaction as she looked upon the fields of charring husks. "Doctor Archaman, are all the hostile signatures cleared?"
"Wait, while I verify..."
Trouble Afoot: 37
"Wait," There's panic clear in his voice, one that raised the hackles of everyone. "There's a large signature-"
Detection of The Future: 5
Before he could say any other words, the hill where the long-ranged combatants had been perched on top of erupted like a volcano, spewing an irate, angry, and loudly screaming Berserker.
The maddened version of her uncle that bore down the slab of stone that only it could consider a 'sword' right on top of her.
This is it then. This is where she will die, killed by her distant kin. Hah. How poe-
The Only Chance, The Crimson Seals: 80
Power and command slammed to the very fibre of her being, the words were unspoken but the intent were clear on the scarlet eyes of her Master. Her body and soul screamed as existence inverted all around Medea once more, depositing her right beside Hinako, who glanced back with black eyes just as the coffin bear the full force of the Berserker and flung down the younger Master to the ground, colours draining from her face as it happened.
But that was the first strike, events that seemed like minutes were but two heartbeats ago.
And on the third, the giant sword is swung at the auburn-haired King, aiming to splatter his head like a watermelon.
O Lord, Give Me Adamant Shield: 97 + 25 (DPoG A): 122
The battlefield stills, as a barrier of pure solid light made from power much more powerful than that of Berserker's progenitor formed in front of the Archer. In the most blatant violation of Newton's Third Law, the sword's momentum is fully stopped. Slowly, and calmly the Israelite loaded his sling with a rock, seemingly nonplussed by the near death that he faced.
The battlefield moved then, as the stone was shot, hitting the Berserker in the centre mass, flinging him with a power that a stone like that normally shouldn't straight through the fifth floor of another skyscraper. Straight through in such a way that simply crumbled the structure all around the Berserker.
"Miss Medea, Miss Hinako, and Miss Mashu, I will leave my Master to you all!" He pulled the Master up on her feet, dusting the light coating of grime from her as the rubble beneath which Berserker resides rumbled forth. "...And the coffin, I suppose!"
Medea nodded as she raised her staff, raising Ritsuka in a bubble of violet purple that ensconced her, before lifting her and the coffin in a simple feat of thaumaturgy towards the Caster.
"▃▃▃▅▅▆▆▇▇▇▇!!!!"
Just in time for the Berserker to emerge out of the rubble, and start its maddened advance at the Archer, who dodged away, pulling the maddened Berserker away from the now lessened group with a blow that snaps his neck back with a sickening crack.
"...We need to make our way now, right, Miss Hinako?" The homunculi said uncertainly, biting her lower lips.
"Yes. We need to now." She glanced at a spot beyond the horizon, to the North. The clash between the two Archer have started, though Medea herself has no idea what occurred, it can be certain that it is violent.
She stopped her glance then, and made lead the group.
Status Update:
Pick Battle Highlight:
[] The Shepherd and The Demigod
[] A Broken Arrow Against An Unbowed Spirit
[] The Progress, Halted
After all, their convoy have made its way for nearly ten minutes....
Force Concentration, Suburbs: 2
...And there are still no enemy to be found. At times, one or two aimless stragglers would bunch up on them, but they are easily evaded or dispatched. Both Archers in front of the Caster have — in that way experienced warriors talk without spaking — made a slight competition to take out as many of them as they could.
"Yeah, I'm certain. It's baffling to me too, but, uh, isn't this a good thing?" The disembodied voice replied to the convoy.
"Nah, it's anything but good, really." Billy piped up. "Because this is a telltale sign of an ambush. Speaking of..."
Nameless Strikes: 19
"Intercept."
The order from the Master was clear, broadcasted to both Archer and Caster. In an incidental unison, the two of them made their move, intercepting and blocking the projectiles of a distant Archer. Solid barriers of purple and the cracking retorts of a smoking revolver make for a vivid display of audiovisual spectacle that would be much more appreciated in a less life-threatening scenario.
All the while, the convoy kept on moving, amidst projectiles shot down with contemptuous ease. Medea herself didn't even need to do much, the younger Archer has a tight handle on the speed. Marksmanship, it seems, is a very good skill for this particular scenario. Each shot from Billy would hit an arrow, which in turns explodes mid-air like fireworks.
As if an afterthought, the convoy reached the edge of the blasted city.
"Right," The Acting Director started, "I'll have to revise the time estimate for arriving at the cave entr-" His words stopped to a halt. "-More hostiles!"
Force Concentration, City Outskirts: 54 + 5 (Increased Intensity): 59
Indeed, in front of the convoy of Servants and Masters and one unconscious Magus, a swarm of skeletal husks awaited. Without so much as a hesitation, they rushed straight forward.
"Tch," Billy clicked his tongue as he shot another arrow down. "Well, darn. Guess the luck can't hold out forever." The Caster didn't make any noise as she silently incanted her personal enchantment spells on Hinako. For the most part, she didn't actually need to augment much of her strength. Her focus is more on making the Elemental faster. So much faster.
"Mashu, support."
Tag Team: 60 + 15 (Medea's Enhancement): 75
The pavement cracked in web-like patterns from Hinako's dash. With a flash of her sword, scattered pieces of bones were all that remained. The front ranks of the rabble proverbially disintegrated, each swipe of the blade reaping whirlwinds of destruction. This has the effect, of course, of nearly isolating the Master in the midst of husks.
An effect mitigated by the presence of the Shielder, her arrival heralded by the disintegration of a skull from a direct hit. In a possible future, Medea mused, her Master would have to made movements to defend herself from the husks, potentially stalling her progress in clearing out the blockade. But here, in this instance, the large shield covered the frame of the two inhuman fighters, the aegis weathering hits from many slapdash weapons without a sign of relenting. It lasted for only one instance, as the swordswoman launched herself outwards, continuing her dervish trance on the husks.
In the end, it wasn't even a contest, not against the two. Even as the hostile Archer continued an assault repulsed by herself and the Kid, they continued onwards.
Parables and Stratagems Old: 73
"Doctor, please scan the buildings around here." Her Master requested in a sudden.
"On it. What's the matter?"
"Find which of these buildings are structurally sound. We can use them as cover. Caster, prepare spells that can make holes big enough for us without compromising the integrity of these buildings too much. Keep with the same formation."
Billy whistled. Bunking down? He thought they were doing just fine. "And when can I start going for that pesky Archer, Master?"
"In time, Archer." The flat reply brooked no retort. "Safety in numbers for now. Doctor, make a path that gets us as close as possible to the Archer and to bridge."
"Right." Faint sounds of machines operating could be heard in the background. "In the meantime, Miss Medea?"
"Yes?"
"Look for the skyscraper with the red lobby. It's one of the few left in relatively good shape around here." Indeed, to the group's left, such a building is seen, although rubble and debris filled the ground floor to the brim on account of the ruined remnants of the skyscraper lying next to it.
A wordless wave of her staff cleared a straight path amidst the rubble. "Done. Let's not tarry then."
Nameless Interception, 2nd Attempt: 20 - 10 (Applied Parable)
The King must profess to herself, it has been quite awhile since she worked with someone this incompetent.
...No. Not quite. The Mud may claim seek to claim ownership on her soul. It may have indeed brought to fore a side of her that is not-quite her but still her. But regardless of that, she remained herself. A King. Even driven through an unceasing tar of corruption, a King will remain as such. A far ruthless and vicious King is still a King that ruled with a crown, after all.
In contrast, her fellow Heroic Spirits are... not quite of lesser stock, no. But broken in ways that made them that much more different than herself. In ways that makes them broken, instead of bent like hers. In ways that makes them weaker than they could be.
But that doesn't excuse this level of failing. No. Even an Archer broken as he is now, a machine far more deader than the husks roaming the burning lands, could not have failed this badly. No. Then the conclusion is simple. The enemy is skilled. A tactician of sorts have emerged amongst their ranks. A Servant? Or perhaps the visitors from a time different than this one brought with them such gifted mind?
The truth is irrelevant for now. But there's one fact that she knew to be inviolable. One that, by process of elimination and extrapolation, is simply the case.
None amongst her foe have the power needed to crush through by brute force. Brute force unavailable...
...and thus unable to contest her own.
Stance set. Energy gathered. Energy amplified. Energy released.
The Fae-Crafted Blade: 92 + 25 (Excalibur) + 10 (Absent Owner): 117
Easy. She didn't need to even swing a second time, as she viewed the dark beam of light carve its path as it crashed and destroyed the bulwark of safety that is the Church. With its mistress' out, there can be no saving it. There will naught be tapped wellspring of magical energy for the Caster now, as she noted the mushroom-like cloud in the far distance.
Of course, she still needs to make the second swing.
She locked eyes with the broken Archer, clarifying intent on her part. He pointed blankly at the direction of her target.
Very well then.
Stance set. Energy gathered. Energy amplified. Energy released.
The King Have Had Enough of Your Insolence: 63 + 25: 88
Medea felt it before she heard it. Everyone heard it, the torrent of dark energy passing by them... and going behind them. That does not stop the feeling of the pits of her stomach sinking as connections to her Temple became lost in a frazzled and jumbled mess.
"Master-"
"I know. This changes nothing." Her words, simple. Yet there's a hint of grimness that wasn't there before. No one said a word what just happened, not even the younger Archer did. The implication was quite clear, after all.
Or perhaps none were able to say it, as the intent of death hit them with such a force that only one thing could be the case.
"Medea!" The shout of her Master occurred just split second after the sigils, those of protection and safety, traced the air. She didn't need telling what needs to be done here.
Scattering: 39 + 25 (Mana Rank): 64
But what needs to be done, did not. Perhaps the sudden loss of her Temple made it so. Perhaps it was because of the suddenness of the assault. But to not enough avail, the hastily erected barrier of violet light that clashes with the dark beam failed. It was a good enough attempt, however. But even as Medea felt her spell had failed, everyone knew that death would await them if they stayed.
"Run."
No one need not be told twice. The rascal of an Archer blasted his Noble Phantasm, carving a secondary path out of the rubble. The older Archer followed suit behind him, a shield made from motes of light shimmering around him. The Shielder and the Elemental that was her Master dashed through the planned route, their force of arms breaking concrete and bending steel alike.
Survival Roll, Medea: Auto-Success.
As for the granddaughter of Helios, she wrapped Ritsuka with her cloak, and tapped the coffin with her heels once. Ancient Grecian runic flashes bright before searing out of existence as reality inverted itself around Medea, the young Master, and the still comatose Director. As she felt the blast from Excalibur ceasing, reality turned back to normal, depositing the three a far distance behind where they had started, in what would have been a busy street before all the chaos occured. She released the wrapping of the cloak on the Master, but keeping a steady grip on her shoulders as vomit came out of her mouth. It is to be expected. No one survives their first teleportation with their insides fully in. Sadly, neither of her skeletal guards made it out, that's a shame.
"Status report!" The voice of Romani voiced out, panic apparent. "Is-Is everyone alright?"
"Young Ritsuka is vomiting from teleportation but she and I are okay." Medea paused, "And the Director too. Still unconscious."
"Kuh, Billy here!" Came the choked sound of the rascal from a direction strewn with rubble to her left. Medea patted the small of the back of the young Master, helping her heave her vomit out quicker as the coffin glide across the way and up a small hill. She feel the connection with her Master still intact on the other side of the hill.
"The other Archer present." Came the calmer reply of the Israelite. As Medea came up the rise of the hill, she sees the shimmering shield around David. While Billy is covered in soot and dust, no blemish can be found on the self-proclaimed 'other Archer'. She did see something else though, her Master and the Shielder Servant. And-
Marked: 44 + 10 (Out in The Open): 54 vs Y'Gonna Shoot On By Without Saying Howdy, Partner?: 60
Barely, oh so barely did a single silent arrow, unseen by her senses magical senses and perhaps intentionally so, nearly struck her as a trio of thunderclap destroy it. Medea looked at the sight of her saviour, the still panting Archer on the ground, his smoking revolver pointed at the air.
"Oh that is it. Master, I will be off now." Without waiting for any response, the outlaw bounded, dusts scattering at his wake.
'Hmph, fine.'
Medea turned to face the source of the telepathic sound as the auburn-haired Archer climbed up the rise. She paled a bit then, staff gathering violet lights all around.
Skeletal Buildup: 69, 60 + 10 (Increased Intensity): 69, 70
A truly sizeable force of reanimated husks clambered from all around the city and beyond, a veritable sea of wrongness that surrounded the island that is the duo. This must be where the greater amount of the Husks present in the city are concentrated. Were they simply here, waiting in ambush in a coordinated manner? Or was it a simply coincidental design that this had occurred. The truth mattered not now, not as she prepared to provide relief for the beleaguered inhuman duo.
The Shielder heft her shield upwards. It was — not a coincidence, successful attempt on mimicking the subterfuge used by Caster at the cemetery — unfortunate that she ran headlong to the frankly hundreds upon hundreds of Husks. Yet, somehow — they are weak, you are not — fear does not overtake the homunculi's heart. Behind her, a sigh is heard. "You ready?" Two simple words, with surety and confidence behind the placid tone — of an experienced fighter — anchored her and made her strive to do her utmost.
Shield and Swords, A Whirling Duet of Death: 97 + 15 (Medea's Enhancement): 112
And her utmost is done. Plunge the shield here, duck and shatter the legs there, feel the weight of the allied Master as she balances herself on the flat of the shield and whirled like a top. Move then, swinging her around and carving more and more pitiable horrors to submission.
She jumped soon, afterwards, the blades master not missing a beat and carving another hole in the crowds. A new hole that you make your way towards, ensuring that the attacks of the hundreds never hit her. You can take the hits instead, the concrete blocks shattering on your back yet unremarked. You barely register the pelted pieces of concrete rebars and metal poles as you parted the seas. A particularly large husk came down upon you. You backhand that one, sending shattered rib pieces away and its towering, decaying figure at the hordes unending and toppling them. And you are upon the blades master once more. Her whirling steel instruments stopping for merely a beat to let you inside her guard before continuing. A beat that you did not let the foul husks chance to be exploited as you shatter two interlopers seeking to wound her.
No words were exchanged, none needed to be. In this instance, the two of you are in sync. It is here, in the heat of battle, did you truly begin to understand her, a singular scrap of beginning. Measured, practical, but inelegant. Her strikes may seem refined but it was clear here and now that it's only a coincidence. Hers is style of brutality that is unintentionally beautiful. And here as well, she tries understands you, if a bit here as well. Stammered and staggered movements only perceptible to those paying attention such as yourself, she tries to measure her own movements against yours, ensuring that she doesn't overreach and strain the bulwark you provided for her. There's a heart within her, you note. But like that of your Liege who now is against you, it's one that is buried and inhuman.
Pagan Assistance: 32 + 25 - 5 (Temple Destroyed) + 10 (Overcritical Success): 67
The Shielder Servant blinked as the violent violet firepower made itself known to her eyes. Both herself and Hinako had killed plenty and crippled plenty more. But though they have killed much, the firepower of a Servant of Medea's caliber do much more. Already, the searing beams raked the seas in a way that is trivial for her but not for them. Already, the path blocked by hostile decay is cleared.
And that was good enough.
Medea nodded with satisfaction as she looked upon the fields of charring husks. "Doctor Archaman, are all the hostile signatures cleared?"
"Wait, while I verify..."
Trouble Afoot: 37
"Wait," There's panic clear in his voice, one that raised the hackles of everyone. "There's a large signature-"
Detection of The Future: 5
Before he could say any other words, the hill where the long-ranged combatants had been perched on top of erupted like a volcano, spewing an irate, angry, and loudly screaming Berserker.
The maddened version of her uncle that bore down the slab of stone that only it could consider a 'sword' right on top of her.
This is it then. This is where she will die, killed by her distant kin. Hah. How poe-
The Only Chance, The Crimson Seals: 80
Power and command slammed to the very fibre of her being, the words were unspoken but the intent were clear on the scarlet eyes of her Master. Her body and soul screamed as existence inverted all around Medea once more, depositing her right beside Hinako, who glanced back with black eyes just as the coffin bear the full force of the Berserker and flung down the younger Master to the ground, colours draining from her face as it happened.
But that was the first strike, events that seemed like minutes were but two heartbeats ago.
And on the third, the giant sword is swung at the auburn-haired King, aiming to splatter his head like a watermelon.
O Lord, Give Me Adamant Shield: 97 + 25 (DPoG A): 122
The battlefield stills, as a barrier of pure solid light made from power much more powerful than that of Berserker's progenitor formed in front of the Archer. In the most blatant violation of Newton's Third Law, the sword's momentum is fully stopped. Slowly, and calmly the Israelite loaded his sling with a rock, seemingly nonplussed by the near death that he faced.
The battlefield moved then, as the stone was shot, hitting the Berserker in the centre mass, flinging him with a power that a stone like that normally shouldn't straight through the fifth floor of another skyscraper. Straight through in such a way that simply crumbled the structure all around the Berserker.
"Miss Medea, Miss Hinako, and Miss Mashu, I will leave my Master to you all!" He pulled the Master up on her feet, dusting the light coating of grime from her as the rubble beneath which Berserker resides rumbled forth. "...And the coffin, I suppose!"
Medea nodded as she raised her staff, raising Ritsuka in a bubble of violet purple that ensconced her, before lifting her and the coffin in a simple feat of thaumaturgy towards the Caster.
"▃▃▃▅▅▆▆▇▇▇▇!!!!"
Just in time for the Berserker to emerge out of the rubble, and start its maddened advance at the Archer, who dodged away, pulling the maddened Berserker away from the now lessened group with a blow that snaps his neck back with a sickening crack.
"...We need to make our way now, right, Miss Hinako?" The homunculi said uncertainly, biting her lower lips.
"Yes. We need to now." She glanced at a spot beyond the horizon, to the North. The clash between the two Archer have started, though Medea herself has no idea what occurred, it can be certain that it is violent.
She stopped her glance then, and made lead the group.
Status Update:
Pick Battle Highlight:
[] The Shepherd and The Demigod
[] A Broken Arrow Against An Unbowed Spirit
[] The Progress, Halted
Last edited:
So what happened here was that the dices love Chaldea and E-Rank Luck truly did strike for a particular Archer.
What also happened, in which the tenses are extra meaningful, was the result of this vote. They already happened, determined by both narrative and dice results. This is, again, a vote for the highlight. Pacing is important, after all. Too many things occurring would make the update too crowded. The stuffs not picked may only be mentioned in summation, or even be put to the spotlight. I want you all, as Questers, to go and pick the option you want me to focus on.
The other reason for the vote is because my long-suffering and (even longer) procrastinating beta, @zero_breaker, is off in a bout of frenetic study for an avalanche of exams and tests for the next week. With no beta, my progress is rendered to a more complete standstill as I would have to (imperfectly) patch through my updates and double-check on my own. Not the end of the world, of course, but it meant that update (or updates, whichever way the muse takes me) will be a bit more slower and/or grammatically and structurally broken.
What also happened, in which the tenses are extra meaningful, was the result of this vote. They already happened, determined by both narrative and dice results. This is, again, a vote for the highlight. Pacing is important, after all. Too many things occurring would make the update too crowded. The stuffs not picked may only be mentioned in summation, or even be put to the spotlight. I want you all, as Questers, to go and pick the option you want me to focus on.
The other reason for the vote is because my long-suffering and (even longer) procrastinating beta, @zero_breaker, is off in a bout of frenetic study for an avalanche of exams and tests for the next week. With no beta, my progress is rendered to a more complete standstill as I would have to (imperfectly) patch through my updates and double-check on my own. Not the end of the world, of course, but it meant that update (or updates, whichever way the muse takes me) will be a bit more slower and/or grammatically and structurally broken.
DimensionalGuy
Lazy Bastard
- Location
- Sweden
[X] The Shepherd and The Demigod
- Location
- At the end of the world
[x] The Shepherd and The Demigod
It is what i was waiting for.
It is what i was waiting for.
- Location
- St. Petersburg
'his head'
That was pretty badass. The rolls are definitely an improvement, in that they let us imagine just how differently things could have gone if only the dice gods looked away from us.
[x] The Shepherd and The Demigod
Frozen Flame
Fragment of the Devourer
- Location
- The Darkness Beyond Time
[x] The Shepherd and The Demigod
Archon of Ghosts
Servant of Rome
- Location
- Luxembourg
Don't think they'll count French. You're welcome to try though.
[X] The Shepherd and The Demigod
I get the feeling we should talk to Ritsuka in the future when there's time and nip this potential problem before it grows.
[X] The Shepherd and The Demigod
Look to the Left
Back from the Void
- Location
- OH CANADA!!!
Hey, Vocalend, how would you react if we got good rolls again?
ThatGuyWithIdeas
Treize died for our sins
- Location
- Romania
[X] The Shepherd and The Demigod
Fixing. Thank you for that.
With a not-so-insignificant amounts of reeee. Your luck is tied to the narrative, I will say that much. Seeing as the third vote option truly went....according to plan, shall we say.
And on that note, vote is closed. People want to see David vs
- Location
- Ohio
I wonder how many times Billy stole a kill from David.
[Suspicions of Hinako's true nature have increased]
Oh good. Galahad is doing the bare minimum so Mashu doesn't die. Although it's just Galahad's subconcious battle experience kicking in.
For a moment there I thought Hinako had absorbed Medea's Saint Graph. I guess Hinako's eyes were glowing red before using a Command Seal.
I'm probably the only person that was more interested in watching Billy fight Emiya .
Chapter 1: The Shepherd and The Demigod
Breathe in. Breathe out. Carefully, and slowly, measure the enemy. The King of Israel stared lightly at the gargantuan beast in front of him. Truth be told, he truly did not want to fight someone even close to Goliath. Well, Herakles is definitely far above Goliath, that arrogant Philistine. A demigod renowned throughout the world.
But this is the job that he settled for, a job which he brought forth to the discussion.
For if not him, who else? Who else have the barest slivers of chance against a juggernaut such as this? Not the Shielder, for while there is a well of potential behind her, it's yet to be tapped. Not the Colchis Caster, for she could not do more than stall her distant kin and no chance to kill him without other enemy taking advantage of her distracted state. No chance to do so for the hostile King would surely rain upon them punishment from the sword arguably more renowned than the demigod. And the other Archer? Too young, metaphorically speaking. He came from an age of gunpowder and steel, not an age of divine retribution and magic. Perhaps there is a craftiness in his fellow Archer's head that would allow him to succeed, but that's a shot far longer and far more impossible than the King's own.
Just like before then. For if not him, who else?
The Soothing Harp: 82
For if not him, who else have talents in exorcism? He whipped his instrument of choice out, starting to pluck the first string of his harp. The giant, barely beginning to move, staggered. Another string is plucked, the stagger turned to a shudder, what seemed to be the start of a sprint turned to a sluggish step forward, as if the demigod is moving through the deep seas, submerged within.
And then David plucked the third string. And the sixth. And then back to the second string. And then, a rhythm. Fingers flicking the strings of the harp in a tune extinct in this Era. A tune utterly dissonant from the blasted hellscape that is the battlegrounds. Blasphemous as it may, the King cannot help but think that in this instance, he is rendering upon the scorched ground a divine blessing. More importantly however, he is rendering upon the Berserker an exorcism. Veins of black blood and corrupted black mud sloughed off of his frame. Hints of bronze can be faintly seen throughout the demigod's frame, though veins of crimson blood can be seen clearer, bulging as they are with the thick cords of muscles.
Thick cords of muscles ready to slam into the King.
The Rage Remains Strong: 54 + 25 (Agility Rank) - 10 (Successful Exorcism): 69
vs
The Agile Shepherd: 63 + 20 (Agility Rank): 83
"▃▅▆▇▇!!!!"
The scream came several heartbeat after Archer seemingly flicked backwards and away from the deathly blows of an irate demigod. David can tell, as dodged blows hit the ground which cratered and gouged and rent through, that a single good blow, unimpeded by his divine shield or mundane skill, will spell his end. He needs to put stock on his faith, and his shield, to weather through this trial.
Not to mention, he needed to last long enough to be able to throw five stones from the sling. All while hounded by one of the most famous demigods the world knew.
David cursed his own legend then. Why did he even spare five stones against Goliath? Why not three, instead? Wouldn't that be better?
ה: 47 + 5 (Modifier Difference): 52 vs Rage: 26
He doesn't have time to grumble though. The first stone was launched, trailing through the air with dark red energy the colour of his hair. The first warning shot that deliberately missed - a surprisingly hard thing to do, fighting against instinct that screamed to hit the angry mass in front of him. The hardest thing, in actuality, is to actually get the stone into the sling in the first place and shooting it.
ד: 5 + 5: 10 vs Rage: 8
The first misstep happened then. The King do not know how it happened, only that it did. Or well, he did know how it happened, but such misstep. For a fact, Servant physiology meant that normal physics and conventions of the world are somewhat waived and stepped aside, as sufficient force forced through... but that doesn't mean that they don't apply. For a moment, David was dodging backwards, inserting the second stone in the sling, before his ankle tripped on a ridged incline made out of broken concrete. Death, in form of a sharpened slab of stone wielded like a sword, approached then and for a moment, the Archer thought himself a goner...
...before the demigod overcompensated in his mad rush, and ended up plowing through the incline and crashed through a building behind the Archer.
Praise be unto the one above, for He make even legends trip over themselves when it counts.
Fate of a King: 91 vs Fate of a Beast: 9
On to the literal matter at the King's right hand, the stone remained in the sling. Unlike Herakles, David isn't currently halfway stuck in a building. Unlike the mad being, his error is rectified in a much easier and almost leisurely pace. And more importantly, the major condition required by his Noble Phantasm is simple. So long as he fire warning shots that do not hit their targets, anything goes.
So long as he does not directly hit the target, anything goes.
And so it goes. The second shot trailed through the air with the same dark red energy suffusing it. In a deceptively slow arc, it slammed straight on a crack on the foundation of the building, a large shop of some kind, that the demigod made as his temporarily residence. And so the building goes, all five floors of it, on top of Herakles.
ג: Auto-Success due to Great Success/Massive Failure combo!
The third stone trailed above and past the rubble mound beneath which the Berserker is trapped on. In truth, the Archer knew that this state of affairs isn't going to last long. Complications can and would happe-
— No, no, not like this. I —
The King's eyes widened. That was the emphatic connection with his Master, what has happe-
ב: 21 + 5: 26 vs Still Raging Berserker: 19
"▃▃▅▅▆▇▇!!!!"
Not now. The Archer moved, a hair faster than the swung sword not-quite aimed towards his general direction. He could barely afford to lose concentration, not when flurries of strikes are aimed towards him. At the very least, the connection with her Master remained stable, for no-
ב, 2nd Try: 35 + 5: 40 vs Still Raging Berserker: 81
Protection Check: 68 + 20: 88
A wave of pain slammed him as a solid kick - was the wild flurry a feint? - hit him in the gut. The motes of light suffused inward to the King, ensuring that the pain did not become more damaging than bruises in his gut, ones that would disappear quickly due to the nature of Servants... provided he survived the encounter. The look the demigod gave him wasn't reassuring. There's intelligence behind the gaze. But one that is clouded, both by Mad Enhancement and the corruptive mud on top of it, a cruel cunning.
ב, 3rd Try: 46 + 5: 51 vs Still Raging Berserker: 97
Protection Check: 68 + 15 - 10 (Opposing Crit Success): 73
A mad yet lucid intelligence. David did not expect the Berserker to slam his blade down into the ground. Neither did he expected him to break the ground in a manner that created dust clouds, or for him to spread the debris around.... Or the blade crashing through his chest.
Pain did not slam him this time. No, this time, pain permeates through his body as the blade made direct contact at his divinely ephemeral shield which spread the impact throughout the Archer's body. From the tips of his toes to the ends of his auburn hair, pain was the king's existence for the moment as he flew bodily through the sky and soaring up through the tenth floor of a now charred office space. He crashed in a not so graceful manner, flecks of dust and debris marring his body none. Indeed, no sign of scrapes are present in his body. But that was a very much superficial outlook, as the Archer coughed out gobs of blood on the ground. None truly important within him broke, despite the fact that his spine should have been. Thank God, it seems.
But he can't tarry. Already, he can feel the faithful shield flickering and waning. They can arrest most of the damage, true. They stop him from being truly injured, also true. But the protection does not last forever. Not against this one.
ב, 4th Try: 51 + 5: 56 vs Leaping and Raging Berserker: 62
And he can't tarry forever either. David managed to insert the stone back when a barreling boulder in form of the demigod burst through the ninth floor, aiming to shoulder-check him and destroy his shoulders. It is an effort that nearly worked, had the angle been just slightly adjusted and had the Archer reacted just slightly later. As it stands, the only effect was the stone within the sling being thrown out.
The connection between him and his Master is still there, but he sense it going fainter. And yet, here's a new feeling, the utter fear previous now allayed with...a relieved feeling one, but-
No. His Master needs assistance. He'd be a poor Servant if he can't deal with Herakles and take him down.
The Fourth Stone, Fifth Attempt: 93 + 5: 98 vs Still Raging Berserker: 11
And a poor Servant, he, the King of Israel, is not.
"Beth!" The stone trailed just above the lumbering giant's shoulders, whose advance on the King was mitigated by simple structural instability. Structural instability that the demigod caused himself. The office collapses around the two Servants, who realized that such a thing would not be preferable, and dashed away on the opposing direction to one another.
But it is too late for Herakles. Too late, as David slid in the fifth stone. Too late, as the air surrounding the Archer becomes thick with energy granted by the divine. Too late, as authority imposed by a power higher than the King or Demigod made itself known.
A twirl of the sling. A shout. The flick of the wrist, and the stone is off. Trailing with a bonfire of crimson energy, the stone shot through the rubble of the collapsing building and penetrated outwards, all without losing momentum in the slightest. Herakles perceived the threat of the stone, swinging the slab in his hand to swat the stone...only for it to flit like a fly around the sword and hit the Berserker straight in his centre mass. Like a puppet with all strings cut, the impact made the Berserker limply falling from the air, before crashing in a crater made his own impact.
David allowed himself to exhale loudly. Thank God for that. He made his way closer to the frame of the unconscious giant. He eyed the sword at the side. Truly, it is a slab of stone more than a sword, hewn from a material not quite mundane or if so, one old. How else then, could it channel so much of the demigod's power without crumbling?
Well, one thing is for sure. It will be a weapon that the Berserker will be deprived from.
Ungainly, and unwieldily, Archer lifted the sword, looking at the unmoving form of the Berserker. Still like the ston-
Red eyes stared with murderous rage at surprised green orbs.
Unalloyed panic mixes with reflex of a time far shrouded in mystery, augmented by experience and fate itself.
First is Legend, Second is Repetition: 57 + 20 (Resonance Bonus): 77
Messily but simply, the slab made contact with the hard skin of the Berserker.
Durability: 59
The skin broke first. Then the first slivers of black flesh. Then the slivers turn thick to muscle, that too, becomes parted. The King can see that the blade starting to crack but he pushed it onwards. Thick cords of corrupted muscles parted further as sinews became seen, latching on the spinal column with ardent resistance...before they snapped.
Then comes the bone. Bones cracked as inordinate pressure from strength of arms and destiny pressed on it. Bones cracked became bones pulverized into shards and powder. Spinal bones that provided resistance strong enough that the neck of the Berserker is only three-fourths way from being decapitated.
Battle Continuation: [Required (D6): 1+ Rolled: 4]
Danger Close: 46 + 5: 51 vs Retaliatory Strike: 77 - 5 (Deprived of Armament): 72
Protection Check: 50 + 10: 60
Because at that point, the King found himself flung to the air. a palm strike knocking all the air from his gut and lifting him and the sword bodily up the air. As he did, he saw a sight that simply boggles the mind.
Black Mud Reinforcement: 98 - 10 (Successful Exorcism) - 15 (Battle Damages): 73
'Oh that's just unfair, isn't it?'
The singular thought ran through the Archer's mind as he saw a surge of sheer vile corruptive sludge rising from the ground and slamming bodily into the Berserker, who took the hit without flinching. Instead, the mud flinches, as it appears that whatever effects the Harp have had still lingered on the demigod's frame. But to no avail, the slurry coated him and made work. Gone, were the slight scrapes of collateral damage the maddened being inflicted on itself. Gone, was the slightly caved in chest, replaced with an angry black scar that seems to be pushing itself against the mark of a power far beyond it. Restored, was the neck. Bone to sinew to muscle to skin, pulsing angrily. Fate conspired against the demigod's injury here. But he had fought fate in his Labours, hadn't he?
Regardless, the fight is at an impasse. An impasse that none of the two Servants were willing to take as one is busy from receiving healing and the other from landing at a hill of debris both know to be reachable by the Berserker in but a blink of an eye.
"Yo!"
The King's eyes widened as he spotted the figure of his fellow Archer-in-arms, clearly victorious against his foes. His clothes weren't even ruffled. By God, there wasn't even any injury upon him. The scoundrel made his way towards the injured King, propping him up slightly. "Ah, you're in... bad shape, aren't 'cha Mister?"
"And you're clearly not."
"Well, the Archer was a tough cookie, I mean he fought with swords and shield up close, it was crazy." He grinned then. "But boy, did I just slam him over and over again with Thunderer and til he, well...." The Kid rambled on, with one eye on the still healing Berserker and one hand tight on the revolver's grip. "He kinda was....Well, I wouldn't say disappointing but..." He trailed.
"So, disappointing."
"Well, more like Miss Fortune smiled upon me! Which uh, seems to be more than God favours you, Mister David." He winces lightly. "No offence."
"Come now, blasphemy is not something you should be doing, at this moment." The King gave the Kid a wan smile. "If anything, it meant that God gave you power needed so that you can help me instead."
"Against uh...him?" Billy looked nervously at the still...still form of the Berserker. He seems content to be there, not that both Archers are not ready to dodge out of the way against him. "Y-Yeah, that's...." He paused, face turning uncharacteristically grim. "Wait no, we don't have time for this. Bad news about the main group. They uh, hit a roadblock." David dreaded what he's about to hear, now.
"A bad one."
Crimson blood pooled on the dusty rubble-strewn pavement as they streamed from the gaping stomach wound that very nearly blown a hole through the spine and out the back. The owner of the streaming blood lie slumped, dust covering their form near completely from just how powerful the impact of the hit was. By all accounts, death should have occurred to the body from which blood pools from.
Recovery: 94
But death does not claim the soul of this one. No. There is a promise yet unfulfilled, after all. Refusal mixed with denial mixed with sheer bloody determination pushed the soul onwards, to hang onto life. No, the soul decided that it would take far more than this to die. There is a promise, after all.
A promise of vengeance.
Medea of Colchis rose, one hand tracing sigils of healing with her own blood and the other pointing at the aggressor with her staff, all while yelling a stanza of death in a language now dead and forgotten except for her.
Effect: 8
A stanza of death, nullified by a miracle. The same sort of miracle that had allowed her to evade a death mere minutes ago. A miracle that augmented by a sacrament of an Authority that remained through the passing of Age of Magecraft.
A miracle wielded by a bemused and literally corrupted priest. She can see, with her senses that his heart is simply wrong. No human heart is that dark. The Caster then glanced all around her, rage and rushing surge ceasing as she look at the battlefield.
The young Master, slumped at the ground. Not dead, not even injured, but passed out. The remnants of her gun, the shotgun the Caster had made, destroyed all around her.
The homunculus, eyes glaring murderously at the prie — no, Executor —, crouched and shielding the form of the unconscious Master, the entirety of her slumbering frame covered by the body of the Servant
Her Master at the front, both swords covered with fresh blood. Blood which dripped freely from the blades and the slash wounds on the Executor's form. Wounds that went unregistered despite their severity.
The coffin, its lid broken open with sheer magical force.
And the occupant, Chaldea's Director, Olga Marie Animusphere right behind the Elemental, seething white magical energy crackling between her fingertips and equally seething fury visible on her eyes.
"Your Master is alright, but her heart is, well, not exactly fit for the sort of battlefield like this."
"This is her first crucible, yes." David shook his head. The Caster, broken. His Master nearly dying, and were it not for the fact that the Director quite literally interrupted in a manner most explosive, she would have. "And as for us?"
"Well, my Master said that you are to," His face soured somewhat, "Take command of me and assess things to your discretion. For the record, no hard feelings whichever way you decide to run the show." A lie, the two of them knew. The younger Archer would want nothing less than utter withdrawal against this foe...
....but he knew too, that now, more than ever, is the time to press the advantage against him.
Status Update!
[] Second Round, Almost Same As The First. The Noble Phantasm worked, did it not? No plan survived contact with the enemy and while the corruption had admittedly had undone a great deal of the work and he himself having been wounded and the shield almost guttering out, the numbers is on his side now. But that would mean to neglect the foe closer to the main group, one that nearly taken out the Caster.
[] Disengage, and Recuperate. The demigod have been deprived of his sword. Destroy it, evade the injured raging bull. Damage more than superficial have been dealt. The playing field is now more levelled. The next encounter would be that much more favourable, with him recovered completely. But that would mean to squander an opportunity that will never come again.
On the other side of a bridge further away, the Master decided:
[] The Hunted Elemental Against The Fallen Hunter. There is no other way, perhaps. To fully kill this one. It would pit her heavily against someone who excelled in work against her kind or nearly so. And no, it most certainly will come to a duel. He wouldn't let himself be apart by two livid Servants, one very irked Lord of the Clocktower, and an Elemental easily.
[] Cast Out The Fallen Servant of The Lord. In the same vein, those firepower can easily repel and make every effort to pick apart the group to be costly. His presence will be expected, and thus able to be planned around with ease. Of course, should there be lapse of judgement, the result is likely to be much more severe than what had just occurred.
But this is the job that he settled for, a job which he brought forth to the discussion.
For if not him, who else? Who else have the barest slivers of chance against a juggernaut such as this? Not the Shielder, for while there is a well of potential behind her, it's yet to be tapped. Not the Colchis Caster, for she could not do more than stall her distant kin and no chance to kill him without other enemy taking advantage of her distracted state. No chance to do so for the hostile King would surely rain upon them punishment from the sword arguably more renowned than the demigod. And the other Archer? Too young, metaphorically speaking. He came from an age of gunpowder and steel, not an age of divine retribution and magic. Perhaps there is a craftiness in his fellow Archer's head that would allow him to succeed, but that's a shot far longer and far more impossible than the King's own.
Just like before then. For if not him, who else?
The Soothing Harp: 82
For if not him, who else have talents in exorcism? He whipped his instrument of choice out, starting to pluck the first string of his harp. The giant, barely beginning to move, staggered. Another string is plucked, the stagger turned to a shudder, what seemed to be the start of a sprint turned to a sluggish step forward, as if the demigod is moving through the deep seas, submerged within.
And then David plucked the third string. And the sixth. And then back to the second string. And then, a rhythm. Fingers flicking the strings of the harp in a tune extinct in this Era. A tune utterly dissonant from the blasted hellscape that is the battlegrounds. Blasphemous as it may, the King cannot help but think that in this instance, he is rendering upon the scorched ground a divine blessing. More importantly however, he is rendering upon the Berserker an exorcism. Veins of black blood and corrupted black mud sloughed off of his frame. Hints of bronze can be faintly seen throughout the demigod's frame, though veins of crimson blood can be seen clearer, bulging as they are with the thick cords of muscles.
Thick cords of muscles ready to slam into the King.
The Rage Remains Strong: 54 + 25 (Agility Rank) - 10 (Successful Exorcism): 69
vs
The Agile Shepherd: 63 + 20 (Agility Rank): 83
"▃▅▆▇▇!!!!"
The scream came several heartbeat after Archer seemingly flicked backwards and away from the deathly blows of an irate demigod. David can tell, as dodged blows hit the ground which cratered and gouged and rent through, that a single good blow, unimpeded by his divine shield or mundane skill, will spell his end. He needs to put stock on his faith, and his shield, to weather through this trial.
Not to mention, he needed to last long enough to be able to throw five stones from the sling. All while hounded by one of the most famous demigods the world knew.
David cursed his own legend then. Why did he even spare five stones against Goliath? Why not three, instead? Wouldn't that be better?
ה: 47 + 5 (Modifier Difference): 52 vs Rage: 26
He doesn't have time to grumble though. The first stone was launched, trailing through the air with dark red energy the colour of his hair. The first warning shot that deliberately missed - a surprisingly hard thing to do, fighting against instinct that screamed to hit the angry mass in front of him. The hardest thing, in actuality, is to actually get the stone into the sling in the first place and shooting it.
ד: 5 + 5: 10 vs Rage: 8
The first misstep happened then. The King do not know how it happened, only that it did. Or well, he did know how it happened, but such misstep. For a fact, Servant physiology meant that normal physics and conventions of the world are somewhat waived and stepped aside, as sufficient force forced through... but that doesn't mean that they don't apply. For a moment, David was dodging backwards, inserting the second stone in the sling, before his ankle tripped on a ridged incline made out of broken concrete. Death, in form of a sharpened slab of stone wielded like a sword, approached then and for a moment, the Archer thought himself a goner...
...before the demigod overcompensated in his mad rush, and ended up plowing through the incline and crashed through a building behind the Archer.
Praise be unto the one above, for He make even legends trip over themselves when it counts.
Fate of a King: 91 vs Fate of a Beast: 9
On to the literal matter at the King's right hand, the stone remained in the sling. Unlike Herakles, David isn't currently halfway stuck in a building. Unlike the mad being, his error is rectified in a much easier and almost leisurely pace. And more importantly, the major condition required by his Noble Phantasm is simple. So long as he fire warning shots that do not hit their targets, anything goes.
So long as he does not directly hit the target, anything goes.
And so it goes. The second shot trailed through the air with the same dark red energy suffusing it. In a deceptively slow arc, it slammed straight on a crack on the foundation of the building, a large shop of some kind, that the demigod made as his temporarily residence. And so the building goes, all five floors of it, on top of Herakles.
ג: Auto-Success due to Great Success/Massive Failure combo!
The third stone trailed above and past the rubble mound beneath which the Berserker is trapped on. In truth, the Archer knew that this state of affairs isn't going to last long. Complications can and would happe-
— No, no, not like this. I —
The King's eyes widened. That was the emphatic connection with his Master, what has happe-
ב: 21 + 5: 26 vs Still Raging Berserker: 19
"▃▃▅▅▆▇▇!!!!"
Not now. The Archer moved, a hair faster than the swung sword not-quite aimed towards his general direction. He could barely afford to lose concentration, not when flurries of strikes are aimed towards him. At the very least, the connection with her Master remained stable, for no-
ב, 2nd Try: 35 + 5: 40 vs Still Raging Berserker: 81
Protection Check: 68 + 20: 88
A wave of pain slammed him as a solid kick - was the wild flurry a feint? - hit him in the gut. The motes of light suffused inward to the King, ensuring that the pain did not become more damaging than bruises in his gut, ones that would disappear quickly due to the nature of Servants... provided he survived the encounter. The look the demigod gave him wasn't reassuring. There's intelligence behind the gaze. But one that is clouded, both by Mad Enhancement and the corruptive mud on top of it, a cruel cunning.
ב, 3rd Try: 46 + 5: 51 vs Still Raging Berserker: 97
Protection Check: 68 + 15 - 10 (Opposing Crit Success): 73
A mad yet lucid intelligence. David did not expect the Berserker to slam his blade down into the ground. Neither did he expected him to break the ground in a manner that created dust clouds, or for him to spread the debris around.... Or the blade crashing through his chest.
Pain did not slam him this time. No, this time, pain permeates through his body as the blade made direct contact at his divinely ephemeral shield which spread the impact throughout the Archer's body. From the tips of his toes to the ends of his auburn hair, pain was the king's existence for the moment as he flew bodily through the sky and soaring up through the tenth floor of a now charred office space. He crashed in a not so graceful manner, flecks of dust and debris marring his body none. Indeed, no sign of scrapes are present in his body. But that was a very much superficial outlook, as the Archer coughed out gobs of blood on the ground. None truly important within him broke, despite the fact that his spine should have been. Thank God, it seems.
But he can't tarry. Already, he can feel the faithful shield flickering and waning. They can arrest most of the damage, true. They stop him from being truly injured, also true. But the protection does not last forever. Not against this one.
ב, 4th Try: 51 + 5: 56 vs Leaping and Raging Berserker: 62
And he can't tarry forever either. David managed to insert the stone back when a barreling boulder in form of the demigod burst through the ninth floor, aiming to shoulder-check him and destroy his shoulders. It is an effort that nearly worked, had the angle been just slightly adjusted and had the Archer reacted just slightly later. As it stands, the only effect was the stone within the sling being thrown out.
The connection between him and his Master is still there, but he sense it going fainter. And yet, here's a new feeling, the utter fear previous now allayed with...a relieved feeling one, but-
No. His Master needs assistance. He'd be a poor Servant if he can't deal with Herakles and take him down.
The Fourth Stone, Fifth Attempt: 93 + 5: 98 vs Still Raging Berserker: 11
And a poor Servant, he, the King of Israel, is not.
"Beth!" The stone trailed just above the lumbering giant's shoulders, whose advance on the King was mitigated by simple structural instability. Structural instability that the demigod caused himself. The office collapses around the two Servants, who realized that such a thing would not be preferable, and dashed away on the opposing direction to one another.
But it is too late for Herakles. Too late, as David slid in the fifth stone. Too late, as the air surrounding the Archer becomes thick with energy granted by the divine. Too late, as authority imposed by a power higher than the King or Demigod made itself known.
חמישה אבנים
Auto-Success
Auto-Success
A twirl of the sling. A shout. The flick of the wrist, and the stone is off. Trailing with a bonfire of crimson energy, the stone shot through the rubble of the collapsing building and penetrated outwards, all without losing momentum in the slightest. Herakles perceived the threat of the stone, swinging the slab in his hand to swat the stone...only for it to flit like a fly around the sword and hit the Berserker straight in his centre mass. Like a puppet with all strings cut, the impact made the Berserker limply falling from the air, before crashing in a crater made his own impact.
David allowed himself to exhale loudly. Thank God for that. He made his way closer to the frame of the unconscious giant. He eyed the sword at the side. Truly, it is a slab of stone more than a sword, hewn from a material not quite mundane or if so, one old. How else then, could it channel so much of the demigod's power without crumbling?
Well, one thing is for sure. It will be a weapon that the Berserker will be deprived from.
Ungainly, and unwieldily, Archer lifted the sword, looking at the unmoving form of the Berserker. Still like the ston-
Red eyes stared with murderous rage at surprised green orbs.
Unalloyed panic mixes with reflex of a time far shrouded in mystery, augmented by experience and fate itself.
First is Legend, Second is Repetition: 57 + 20 (Resonance Bonus): 77
Messily but simply, the slab made contact with the hard skin of the Berserker.
Durability: 59
The skin broke first. Then the first slivers of black flesh. Then the slivers turn thick to muscle, that too, becomes parted. The King can see that the blade starting to crack but he pushed it onwards. Thick cords of corrupted muscles parted further as sinews became seen, latching on the spinal column with ardent resistance...before they snapped.
Then comes the bone. Bones cracked as inordinate pressure from strength of arms and destiny pressed on it. Bones cracked became bones pulverized into shards and powder. Spinal bones that provided resistance strong enough that the neck of the Berserker is only three-fourths way from being decapitated.
Battle Continuation: [Required (D6): 1+ Rolled: 4]
Danger Close: 46 + 5: 51 vs Retaliatory Strike: 77 - 5 (Deprived of Armament): 72
Protection Check: 50 + 10: 60
Because at that point, the King found himself flung to the air. a palm strike knocking all the air from his gut and lifting him and the sword bodily up the air. As he did, he saw a sight that simply boggles the mind.
Black Mud Reinforcement: 98 - 10 (Successful Exorcism) - 15 (Battle Damages): 73
'Oh that's just unfair, isn't it?'
The singular thought ran through the Archer's mind as he saw a surge of sheer vile corruptive sludge rising from the ground and slamming bodily into the Berserker, who took the hit without flinching. Instead, the mud flinches, as it appears that whatever effects the Harp have had still lingered on the demigod's frame. But to no avail, the slurry coated him and made work. Gone, were the slight scrapes of collateral damage the maddened being inflicted on itself. Gone, was the slightly caved in chest, replaced with an angry black scar that seems to be pushing itself against the mark of a power far beyond it. Restored, was the neck. Bone to sinew to muscle to skin, pulsing angrily. Fate conspired against the demigod's injury here. But he had fought fate in his Labours, hadn't he?
Regardless, the fight is at an impasse. An impasse that none of the two Servants were willing to take as one is busy from receiving healing and the other from landing at a hill of debris both know to be reachable by the Berserker in but a blink of an eye.
"Yo!"
The King's eyes widened as he spotted the figure of his fellow Archer-in-arms, clearly victorious against his foes. His clothes weren't even ruffled. By God, there wasn't even any injury upon him. The scoundrel made his way towards the injured King, propping him up slightly. "Ah, you're in... bad shape, aren't 'cha Mister?"
"And you're clearly not."
"Well, the Archer was a tough cookie, I mean he fought with swords and shield up close, it was crazy." He grinned then. "But boy, did I just slam him over and over again with Thunderer and til he, well...." The Kid rambled on, with one eye on the still healing Berserker and one hand tight on the revolver's grip. "He kinda was....Well, I wouldn't say disappointing but..." He trailed.
"So, disappointing."
"Well, more like Miss Fortune smiled upon me! Which uh, seems to be more than God favours you, Mister David." He winces lightly. "No offence."
"Come now, blasphemy is not something you should be doing, at this moment." The King gave the Kid a wan smile. "If anything, it meant that God gave you power needed so that you can help me instead."
"Against uh...him?" Billy looked nervously at the still...still form of the Berserker. He seems content to be there, not that both Archers are not ready to dodge out of the way against him. "Y-Yeah, that's...." He paused, face turning uncharacteristically grim. "Wait no, we don't have time for this. Bad news about the main group. They uh, hit a roadblock." David dreaded what he's about to hear, now.
"A bad one."
Crimson blood pooled on the dusty rubble-strewn pavement as they streamed from the gaping stomach wound that very nearly blown a hole through the spine and out the back. The owner of the streaming blood lie slumped, dust covering their form near completely from just how powerful the impact of the hit was. By all accounts, death should have occurred to the body from which blood pools from.
Recovery: 94
But death does not claim the soul of this one. No. There is a promise yet unfulfilled, after all. Refusal mixed with denial mixed with sheer bloody determination pushed the soul onwards, to hang onto life. No, the soul decided that it would take far more than this to die. There is a promise, after all.
A promise of vengeance.
Medea of Colchis rose, one hand tracing sigils of healing with her own blood and the other pointing at the aggressor with her staff, all while yelling a stanza of death in a language now dead and forgotten except for her.
Effect: 8
A stanza of death, nullified by a miracle. The same sort of miracle that had allowed her to evade a death mere minutes ago. A miracle that augmented by a sacrament of an Authority that remained through the passing of Age of Magecraft.
A miracle wielded by a bemused and literally corrupted priest. She can see, with her senses that his heart is simply wrong. No human heart is that dark. The Caster then glanced all around her, rage and rushing surge ceasing as she look at the battlefield.
The young Master, slumped at the ground. Not dead, not even injured, but passed out. The remnants of her gun, the shotgun the Caster had made, destroyed all around her.
The homunculus, eyes glaring murderously at the prie — no, Executor —, crouched and shielding the form of the unconscious Master, the entirety of her slumbering frame covered by the body of the Servant
Her Master at the front, both swords covered with fresh blood. Blood which dripped freely from the blades and the slash wounds on the Executor's form. Wounds that went unregistered despite their severity.
The coffin, its lid broken open with sheer magical force.
And the occupant, Chaldea's Director, Olga Marie Animusphere right behind the Elemental, seething white magical energy crackling between her fingertips and equally seething fury visible on her eyes.
"Your Master is alright, but her heart is, well, not exactly fit for the sort of battlefield like this."
"This is her first crucible, yes." David shook his head. The Caster, broken. His Master nearly dying, and were it not for the fact that the Director quite literally interrupted in a manner most explosive, she would have. "And as for us?"
"Well, my Master said that you are to," His face soured somewhat, "Take command of me and assess things to your discretion. For the record, no hard feelings whichever way you decide to run the show." A lie, the two of them knew. The younger Archer would want nothing less than utter withdrawal against this foe...
....but he knew too, that now, more than ever, is the time to press the advantage against him.
Status Update!
In The End, the King decided:
[] Second Round, Almost Same As The First. The Noble Phantasm worked, did it not? No plan survived contact with the enemy and while the corruption had admittedly had undone a great deal of the work and he himself having been wounded and the shield almost guttering out, the numbers is on his side now. But that would mean to neglect the foe closer to the main group, one that nearly taken out the Caster.
[] Disengage, and Recuperate. The demigod have been deprived of his sword. Destroy it, evade the injured raging bull. Damage more than superficial have been dealt. The playing field is now more levelled. The next encounter would be that much more favourable, with him recovered completely. But that would mean to squander an opportunity that will never come again.
On the other side of a bridge further away, the Master decided:
[] The Hunted Elemental Against The Fallen Hunter. There is no other way, perhaps. To fully kill this one. It would pit her heavily against someone who excelled in work against her kind or nearly so. And no, it most certainly will come to a duel. He wouldn't let himself be apart by two livid Servants, one very irked Lord of the Clocktower, and an Elemental easily.
[] Cast Out The Fallen Servant of The Lord. In the same vein, those firepower can easily repel and make every effort to pick apart the group to be costly. His presence will be expected, and thus able to be planned around with ease. Of course, should there be lapse of judgement, the result is likely to be much more severe than what had just occurred.
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In short, Billy rolled really well and E-Rank Archer did not, getting himself on 4 separate rolls that got below 10 roll result. Two of them right next to one another too. That, uh....yeah.
On the other hand, David and Herakles got suitably dramatic dice rolls, and also one that I had wanted to write but ended up being rather tougher to do so due to the mercurialness of the dice.
And finally, yorokobe interrupt. Everyone but you-know-who rolled terribly. Let's just say that had Medea not went for the full course treatment, Olga Marie would not have woken up even without the dice rolls involved, and we'd be continuing this without Ritsuka. Of course, Medea would craft Mystic Codes relating to defences for the squishier Master but...well, the dice is fickle. Almost like the Priest is a bad luck magnet or something
Oh right, to clarify, just because the bonus for David's Protection Check is gone, doesn't mean that check itself is gone. The Dice Check will be higher and/or penalties will rack up though.
As usual, let me know of the errors, most likely to be present even after rechecking the draft and without beta assistance, as well as the questions and/or comments.
On the other hand, David and Herakles got suitably dramatic dice rolls, and also one that I had wanted to write but ended up being rather tougher to do so due to the mercurialness of the dice.
And finally, yorokobe interrupt. Everyone but you-know-who rolled terribly. Let's just say that had Medea not went for the full course treatment, Olga Marie would not have woken up even without the dice rolls involved, and we'd be continuing this without Ritsuka. Of course, Medea would craft Mystic Codes relating to defences for the squishier Master but...well, the dice is fickle. Almost like the Priest is a bad luck magnet or something
Oh right, to clarify, just because the bonus for David's Protection Check is gone, doesn't mean that check itself is gone. The Dice Check will be higher and/or penalties will rack up though.
As usual, let me know of the errors, most likely to be present even after rechecking the draft and without beta assistance, as well as the questions and/or comments.