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Fate/Broken Thorns [Grail War]

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It would have been one thing if Kirei agreed to working together but I'm not really fond of getting close to a fight with a Berserker that has no reason to avoid splattering us. It's not like he'll have room to complain about it either, what with telling us to do what we want.

[X] Hesitate
 
[X] Engage

It is true that we owe Kirei nothing, and are his enemy besides. However, Archer proved to be unwilling to respect the most basic rules of the war. It is irrelevant what intentions his master has, those have to be observed before we can speak of his honour as a Magus.

Could there be Magi unaware of the rules? Father Michael only mentioned Tousaka's visit, so I suppose someone being ignorant should not be discounted. But Archer's Master looks like he has done his research in regards to us at least.
 
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Nevill said:


It is true that we owe Kirei nothing, and are his enemy besides. However, Archer proved to be unwilling to respect the most basic rules of the war. It is irrelevant what intentions his master has, they have to be observed before we can speak of his honour as a Magus.

Could there be Magi unaware of the rules? Father Michael only mentioned Tousaka's visit, so I suppose someone being ignorant should not be discounted. But Archer's Master looks like he has done his research in regards to us at least.
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Oh yeah, we absolutely shouldn't trust Archer. I just don't exactly want to get our squishy bits close to that slugfest.
 
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The Second Night - Blood
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    • You hesitate for a moment. "Your master has already broken one of the cardinal rules of the war. Why should I care for any proposals from him?"

    "We had good reason for it. If you agree to talk with him, he'll explain everything."

    "Fair platitudes, but unfortunately not one I can accept tonight." You say. Beside you, Lancer readies his spear, "Berserker's master and I made a truce for tonight to eliminate you, and I can't exactly go back on my words now, can I?"

    Archer flashes you a rueful grin, "Just for tonight? I see."

    Lancer moves into action at the same instant Berserker does. Twin spear stab at Archer, bloody first, plain second. She seems to have deemed yours a lesser threat, as she focuses her energies on deflecting and dodging Berserker's blows, letting Lancer slip in tiny cuts here and there.

    The two servants aren't working in tandem, it becomes obvious to you after the first few seconds. Lancer is painfully slow compared to Berserker's blistering speed and brutality. Where the former's spear merely slices through the air, the latter's spear creates explosions of sound as it breaks the sound barrier with every other thrust, streaming blood from its tip. The servants battle within a dome of swirling blood that stretches out several meters centered around Berserker. The blood all around in the air rises up, floating in the same motion simultaneously, forming long, wispy streamers. The streamers suddenly snap taut in midair, then whip forward at Archer like bullets.

    She dodges out of the way. Lancer is still in the way.

    Your servant is grabbed bodily by the sheer force of one of the streamers of blood. It wraps around their waist and before they can reach down to slice it off they're hurled straight across the rooftop like they've been slapped away by a giant. The offending blood dissipates as they crashed down onto the ground, plowing a small concrete trench.

    Berserker growls. It's a soft sound, coming from vocal cords long disused. It's likely the closest thing to an apology you'll hear from him.

    Lancer's hasn't taken much damage from the friendly fire. They're up and running back into the action in a moment, though you position them further away from Berserker now, making strikes of opportunity rather than actively attacking.

    The entire rooftop is drenched in blood. It runs in rivers to the sides, falling off the edge of the building like a waterfall. Every step the servants make scatter that crimson lifeblood everywhere. Even off to the side further away from the action, you suddenly realize the soles of your boots are drenched. That realization sparks you to action. You may have been considering meeting Archer's master, but that doesn't mean you won't give it your all in a fight.

    Splash, splash, splash, goes the sound of your boots on the ground. Archer is preoccupied with the attacks of the two spearmen. She doesn't notice you until you're practically within spear-range of her yourself, just outside the dome. Out of the corner of your eyes, you see a distant flash of red light.

    First her eyes widen with surprise, then shock.

    Your bramble-grenade explodes nary a foot from her face even as she's pirouetted in midair away from Berserker and landed. There's no way she can escape this, and you've channeled a lot of prana into it too. The twisted mass of ebony wood and black thorns, a gyrating mass that could've turned a whole cow to minced beef at that range expands like, forces Archer to back up, right into Lancer's spear. At the same time, you yell out 'Droighnean gearradh!'

    All at once every branch lashes out, shooting for Archer. She yelps as her shoulder is pierced through by Lancer, then your thorns wrap around her feet and arms, slicing the pale skin. Blood runs down her limbs, joining with the blood on the ground.

    Then she hardens her eyes and mutters something in a language you don't recognize. The chakram in her left hand loses the wind swirling around it, and blazes instead with a flame so intensely bright and scorching you throw your arms over your face and stagger back. The flaming chakram slices through your vines like they were smoke. You see the entirety of the bramble-grenade incinerated to ashes in a second. Even Lancer is repelled by the heat, slowly stepping back.

    Berserker presses on and is incinerated for it. You see him push through the flames like the maddened creature he is. His clothes burn away and his skin and flesh underneath bubbles, turning to black charcoal in moments. New skin instantly grows over it, crawling across the burns like flowing oil... or blood.

    His regeneration is the only thing keeping him alive. All the blood around is vaporized, leaving nothing but a faint reddish-yellow mist.

    Archer says another word, and the other chakram's wind begins to rotate faster and faster along its edge. The blade of wind turns into a miniaturized cyclone. She brings her weapons together, Fire and Wind, and the resulting inferno washes across half the rooftop. You throw yourself face down into the blood at the firestorm engulfs Berserker completely. The heat is unbearable. You're sure something on you is burning.

    After a few endless moments, the firestorm ceases. You groan and roll over to your side, mentally ordering Lancer to pick you up. There's an enemy servant just mere feet away. You can't be lying down like this. You stagger to your feet, entire body caked in blood. It drips off you.

    Berserker kneels on the ground, spear thrust downwards. The firestorm has scorched every centimeter of his body with fourth or fifth-degree burns – you can see bones painted ash. And yet he's already healing, blood flowing forth from the tip of his spear to cover his injuries and flow over them, transforming into flesh. And for all his injuries, the blindfold covering his eyes is untouched. Somewhere at the back of your mind, all the clues are coming together. You know who Berserker is. How ironic.

    Archer leaps and lands gracefully a few meters away, on the far side of the roof, poised on the edge. Her chakrams held at her side in an unfamiliar stance. She surveys the three of you and the devastation she's wrought. The entire rooftop is… sagging. The center of the roof is covered in gooey melted concrete that's dipped dangerously below the level of the rest of the floor. Her attack must've melted the supporting pillars themselves.

    "I am Nezha, Third among Lotus Princes, General of Heaven and Guardian of the Central Altar. I will not fall to a mad dog and a nameless spearman!" She proclaims.

    There is a pindrop silence.

    "Oh?" Another voice comes from behind you, the other end of the rooftop directly across from Nezha. "What about me, then?"

    Your head slowly turns.

    The voice is distorted. It continues, "I have been spoiling for a fight, and you had such a great one going on here."

    Clad in crimson plate from head to toe. Polished, gleaming slate lined with scarlet. The plates seem almost too heavy for a normal human, layers on top of each other leaving not one joint, not once piece of whatever is underneath exposed. The helmet is built into the armour, painted and horned like the visage of a demon who has feasted recently. The only gap in the armour is eye-slit, as thin as possible. A great red sword hangs by their side, held in a loose steel-clawed grip. A soft red glow emanates from it.

    There's a moment of silence. Saber does not pay you one iota of attention. His gaze is solely for Archer. Nezha, to her credit, doesn't flinch or turn away from the new arrival, even though it's not a good idea for her or her master to engage in another fight against a fresh servant. Not after using their noble phantasm.

    A cold wind blows through the roof. Holding onto Lancer, you stagger to your feet and stumble towards the edge. With a start, you realize Berserker is gone. Kotomine's cut his losses for the night. It's a wise choice, now that Saber is here.

    [ ] You're done for the night too. Head for home.
    [ ] Not yet. Maintain a safe distance and observe.
     
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    • [x] You're done for the night too. Head for home.

    I'd rather not wait for a victor to emerge from this fight.
     
    Also, Archer and Berserker character sheets are up. The latter may not exactly be as expected.
     
    [X] You're done for the night too. Head for home.

    Best not to linger in case the Servants battle again; there's not much reason to stay.
     
    [X] Not yet. Maintain a safe distance and observe.

    okay stopped lurking
     
    The Second Night - Saber
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    • Lancer puts you down three rooftops away. Far enough to be out of the battle, but not so far that you can't see what happens.

    It's hard to see the details of Saber and Archer at this distance, but reinforcement of your eyes gives you just enough acuity in vision to make out what's going on.

    Nothing. Neither servant has moved yet.

    "Where's Saber's master…?" You mutter, trying to sense around. There isn't much plantlife around, and the amount there is isn't enough for comprehensive coverage. You sense Kirei and Berserker simply leaving, but no one else. Neither Saber nor Archer's masters.

    Red lightning shatters the sky.

    Saber vanishes from your eyesight at the same time Archer slaps her noble phantasms together, screaming its true name. The cry is loud enough for you to hear from this distance. She had held back against Berserker. She does not hold back now.

    Revolving Heavens of Wind and Fire!
    "Kenkonken!"

    It's a grand gesture.

    A firestorm the size of a mountain, tall whirling pillars of fire, rises up into the sky and through the clouds, scattering them. Multiple firestorms, converging on each other and rotating around Archer with dizzying speed, grinding away the roof of the building chunk by chunk, hurling them out into the sky with tremendous force. One boulder lands on the roof you're on, and another crashes through a window a few stories below you. You throw up your arms, though it's a futile gesture. The cyclones of fire begin to spin faster and faster, some of them turning from red to white-hot. In the midst of that inferno is Nezha, General of Heaven. Her chakrams are gone, but in place she holds a long, thin spear. She's floating several meters off the surface of the roof.

    But it's just a gesture.

    Red lightning strikes the building and the entire structure buckles. One corner of the roof caves in completely as a bolt strikes it, though it's more like a huge explosive force had hit it. Another section is blasted away. It takes you a moment to realize what it is.

    It's Saber, his body aglow with red prana so brightly. His speed upped to unbelievable levels by the prana burst. He moves so fast you can't even come close to seeing him, only the red flashes like lightning he leaves behind.

    Watching Saber wants to make you fall to you knees and laugh. How could you ever have thought you had anything more than a snowball's chance on a summer beach. You don't even want to look at Lancer, standing beside you. Your coat still reeks of burnt leather from your failed attack on Nezha.

    Archer was a strong servant. Saber put her to shame.

    He vanishes in lightning once again, practically dancing through the firestorms as if they weren't even there. The fire holds no dangers for him. One sweep of Clarent, not even a swing, merely held at his side, cleaves one of the cyclones apart in a single movement. The twister unravels, dissipating into the air.

    Nezha levels her spear, shooting great bolts of fire at Saber. Saber slides left and right, dodging every single bolt. Archer howls in frustration, pouring on the rain of fire. At the same time, the fiery cyclones begin to shift, grinding their way through the roof and the floor below, seeking to consume Saber.

    The entire building they're battling on creaks ominously. Your eyes widen.

    Saber and Archer's battle carves out entire floors of the building. The roof is gone and floor immediately below are gone. They're fighting within the mangled ruins of the next. Archer is still in midair, though only two tempests of fire remain swirling around her. The rest have all been cloven asunder.

    There's no relent to be seen from Saber. He cuts aside the bolts of fire Archer sends his way almost casually, barely a mark to be seen on his armour. He leaps on the broken stump of a pillar. Prana swirls around him. Then it rises like a red sun, prana burst stronger than any you've seen so far, so bright it lights up the night sky.

    Saber leaps. Clarent rings.

    Archer screams. Foundations disintegrate

    A great slash of blood paints the sky directly behind Archer. Saber rises into the sky through it, flying like a meteor. The spear falls from Nezha's hand. The force of the blow sends her flying backwards, her back arching high against the moon.

    Before she can finish the arc and fall, her body pulses a faint red and she vanishes in a shower of dust. You don't think she's dead. Her master must've used a Command Seal to save her at the last moment.

    The loudness of a skyscraper falling apart isn't easy to describe. There's no definition to the sound that comes as a thousands of tons of brick, concrete and cement shake off their restraints and become unto ash and dust. The dust rises up in great plumes, blanketing everything as it explodes upwards. Through the dust, you see the red comet begin to plummet..

    You don't wait for Saber to land. You just stagger to your feet, stumbling a few times as the ground continues to shake, then jump off the edge of this building to the next one, a lot lower. Lancer catches you midleap and helps you land safely.

    You can't fight Saber. You just need to run.

    You look back, expecting to see the red lightning and steely death coming for you. But there's nothing there, only a wall of dust flying towards you. You cover your mouth and keep running.

    Somewhere at the back of your mind, you wonder where you're running. You're not sure of the direction. The streets around you are dark. None of the houses are lit; The street lamps are dim; The parked cars are silent. The world all around you seems to have receded into the darkness there was, in a time from before God said 'Let there be light.' But that's not the thing that weighs in on you. Something else does.

    Death.

    Death comes for you.

    You run until you can run no longer.

    Saber isn't chasing you, but you can't stop now. Can't stop, ever.

    Your heart pounds, beating so hard it feels like it would burst at any time. Your palms are sweaty. The Brambleheart is quiet, dark and drooping. You drop down to street level and lose your footing, crashing onto the ground. The asphalt is cold; cold and dark. You don't want to keep running. What's the point? In the end you will die.

    Your heartbeat stills. In the distance of the cold night, you hear nothing. No voices, no cars, no people.

    No life.

    You are already dead.

    In the distance of the cold night you hear a single sound. It comes to you as if from down a long, empty tunnel, slow and echoing, from so far away yet from all around you.

    Ding, dong.

    A bell rings.

    The sound echoes all around you, pounding in your ears. You moan and curl up, but you can't even hear your moans. You squeeze your eyes shut, your last sight being Lancer standing still, blank and empty as ever.

    Ding, dong.

    The bell tolls, ringing the gong of death.

    Ding, dong.

    Ding, dong. Die, die.

    It continues to ring.

    What is death? You ask.

    You've never seen death. They say to be a magus is to walk with death. Oh, you know what it is. You know it took your mother, and your grandfather, and your uncle. But they all died before you were born, or with your birth. It can't take you, oh no. The true bloodline of the Thorns did not die.

    You remember your father, once a proud man, laid low and wasting by his sickness. It hadn't been so long ago, and you remember his last day as clear as you remember the sun that shone down brilliantly at you this afternoon as you worked in your gardens. But he did not die. He could still walk, at the end, even if it was by the aid of his Brambleheart more than anything else. The vines grew past his arms, covering his torso and wrapping around his legs to support him. He still taught you until his last day.

    Never too strict, but never slackening on you. Not even as he parted his last lessons to you, then stepped into the great Blackthorn in the workshop. The tree opened up, a tiny hollow within it, and once he was inside it sealed up again.

    That was the last you saw of your father. One day, you'll join the Blackthorn too, after you've passed on your own Brambleheart to your child.

    So you can't die here.

    You stagger to your feet, looking up at Lancer. The blank face stares back at you, unhelpful. You grit your teeth and grab on his arm, pulling yourself up straight. Your legs are still weak and shaky, but you get your feet under you and start walking. A few tottering steps turn into brisk trotting. At the same time, you pull up your left sleeve, holding your Brambleheart at ready.

    Then Death comes for you once more.

    Your steps falter, but you don't fall. You keep moving, running. Fleeing Death. You aren't even sure what direction you're running in. You hope you're headed for…

    [ ] Your Home. The furthest away, but it's a fortress. It'll keep you safe.
    [ ] The Church. Not too far away. It's neutral ground, so you'll be safe.
    [ ] The Forest. It's the nearest, and it's where you can make a stand.
     
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    • [X] The Forest. It's the nearest, and it's where you can make a stand.

    Saber is not following us - but I do think someone wants to talk to us...
     
    [x] The Forest. It's the nearest, and it's where you can make a stand.

    Normally, 'making a stand' in our condition would have put me off, but the Church was already attacked once, and our home is the farthest.
     
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    [x] The Forest. It's the nearest, and it's where you can make a stand.

    I think it might be assassin who is chasing us.
     
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