Fate/Broken Thorns [Grail War]
- Thread starter Namer
- Start date
ChildishChimera
A umbran summon
- Location
- New York
[X] 'Not a lot of options' is not the same as no options at all. Rider didn't give his life so you could simply surrender now.
- Location
- St. Petersburg
"brought"
[x] 'Not a lot of options' is not the same as no options at all. Rider didn't give his life so you could simply surrender now.
We are in too deep. If we back down now, we are down a Servant, and our own Servant isn't back. Even if Caster returns Alice, she is likely to twist our hand so much we'd wish we fought.
Dark Lord Potato
Aspiring OverLord from Canada
- Location
- Ottawa, Ontario
[X] 'Not a lot of options' is not the same as no options at all. Rider didn't give his life so you could simply surrender now.
Both of these options are terrible. This one seems slightly less terrible to me because I can't think of a single thing we have to bargain with (Or in the case of Alice, are willing to bargain with) that she can't take from us by force. Not matter which vote wins, I'm preparing for pain.
Both of these options are terrible. This one seems slightly less terrible to me because I can't think of a single thing we have to bargain with (Or in the case of Alice, are willing to bargain with) that she can't take from us by force. Not matter which vote wins, I'm preparing for pain.
The Fourth Night - Caster
Namer
ᵘʷᵘ
- Location
- Bangladesh
- Pronouns
- He/Him
'Not a lot of options' isn't the same as no options at all, You tell yourself. Rider certainly didn't give his life just so you could give up, so close to the finishing line.
You're still frozen on the same spot you were, just before one of the side rooms. Your eyes flick towards Lancer, then back to Caster. By the smile on her face, she knows you're evaluating your options. For her part, Caster seems content to give you a moment, perhaps to take in the futility of anything you could do.
You don't risk a glance back into the room, but you remember the sensation of your command seals tingling. That crystal was important.
The War had gone wrong from the very first night, when your Servant had been stolen. The only one to have the expertise for that would've been Caster. The very same Servant whose workshop you stood in now.
"Can we?" You ask, "You're not exactly a civilized Magi."
Beside her, you feel Accolon glaring at you for the proffered insult. Morgan says nothing, but sighs. Before she can say anything else, you continue.
"What did you do with Alice?"
"Alice?" Morgan tilts her head a bit, "Ah, you must mean one of the fledgling Mages. Is that girl why you charged in here like some hero? No wonder. Both she and my former Master are crucial to the survival of this entire city. You know of the Dead Apostle that approaches the city - Einnashe, I believe you call it."
You nod. "The Church has the tools to handle it. Even I could've repelled it if I hadn't been busy fighting this war, fighting you."
This time she laughed, "Fool. Your Church had but one plan, and that was spoilt weeks ago. They have been desperately-"
A feared sorceress from the twilight of the gods and the noontide of the faeries she might be, but even Morgan le Fay had no way of reading your mind. The first warning she has is the twitch of your fingers and of Lancer's feet, simultaneous. You reach for your pockets, where you're holding the last of the bramble-grenades, and Lancer leaps straight into the room like a bullet, spear aimed squarely for the crystal.
But Morgan le Fay was not famed and feared for nothing. There is no reaction from her, no shock or startling. She responds to your provocation so fast it was like she was going to strike at that exact moment regardless. Her response isn't a weak one either.
Space extends. Time slows.
You throw yourself backwards, and it's like you're falling through honey. The air is leaden and sluggish. In front of you, Morgan raises her hand almost lazily, unaffected by the weight of the air. Beside her, Accolon and the remaining Homunculi spring into action, and they're so much faster. They vanish from your eyes the instant they start moving, their speed easily ten times what it had been earlier.
Morgan le Fay had blasted you and Lancer out of time into a realm many times slower. But your thoughts aren't slower, and neither are the living objects you carry on you that aren't you.
All four bramble-grenades explode simultaneously. You scream as barks of iron and thorns shred the front of your face and body, despite your best efforts to direct the explosion. The mass of thorns from floor to ceiling sends you flying backwards, howling in agony but unable to clutch your face as your arms and legs are still entrapped in slowed time.
You aren't blind. Against all odds, you can see. Not one thorn had sliced your eyes out. The world is a sea of blood. Through a haze of red you spend a year blinking rapidly and turning your head to look at Lancer. He has been pushed even deeper into the time-slow than you, and seems almost frozen in midair.
Before him, the ten paces to the crystal were ten-thousand paces now, and with the next blink a hundred thousand. Before your very eyes the room becomes a corridor, and the corridor extends until it reaches infinity, and the crystal vanishes from sight. But not from sense.
Through the infinite corridor the crystal's light reaches you and Lancer. It's the first colour other than red you see. It's blue, and gold, and warm and soft in every way your thorns were not.
You have no words. You can't even raise a hand or clench a fist. Blood floats in the air, a fountain of crimson lazily flying upwards from your body as you fall.
-BREAK IT!!
Searing light erupts from Caster's hands. A silver streak of light that carves a molten trail along the roof and floors, cutting through your brambles with east. From the edges where the light had touched it the remainder of the brambles erupt in flames. Caster sweeps her hand, cutting across horizontally, slagging the walls of her basement. The light passes right before your eyes, missing you by inches, and if your vision hadn't been drenched by the film of blood over your eyes you're sure it would've blinded you before you could even close them. Still you slowly open your mouth into a wordless cry as the heat of the beam burns away the falling blood into vapour and blisters your face.
The spell wasn't magic or light, it was pure fire - so hot that it was white, and so condensed it was a solid beam.
Your command seals pulse for the third time that night. The seals you had gotten from Thomas, Rider's former master, are all gone.
Even an endlessly long room must have an end. An opposite end, or else it simply would not be a room but rather something else. The Command Seal cut through space and time, and bodily took Lancer, hurling him at infinite velocity across the intervening distance. One moment Lancer is only a few feet away from you, the next instant he's teleported right beside the crystal, spear poised to strike.
Before the spear touches the crystal itself it hits a barrier. A corona of pale mauve light shimmers into existence and the spear explodes against it in a shower of sparks.
"What kind of Caster do you take me for, boy?" Morgan smiles, "The kind to leave valuables lying around unprotected?"
No, you had anticipated the protection. You just had no way of knowing how strong it was. Your only hope had been that Lancer's boost would last long enough for him to smash through.
For the first time, a flicker of worry appears of Morgan's face. A single crack appears on the mauve surface of the shell over the crystal. The worry is there and gone in an instant. She raises her hand again, fingers like claws, and slashes the air. Titanic blades of air shred what little remains of your wall, passing clean by you into the room.
You finally hit the ground. Time isn't slowed anymore. Both Accolon and the Homunculi ignore you, rushing straight for Lancer, moving in right behind the wind blades. The space-warping effect is also gone. Only fractions of a second remain.
The crack in the shield widens, and the very tip of Lancer's spear is inside. As if in response to Lancer's presence, the light inside the crystal becomes more and more agitated, shifting and shuddering in a frenzy. It's like there's a person imprisoned in the crystal who knows release is close at hand. The moment Lancer's spear breaks through, the light… leaves. It's seemingly siphoned off into the spear, streamers of blue, gold and silver light passing out of the crystal and into the servant.
Lancer meets Accolon's blow just before it would land, lance to sword, and breaks him.
You throw up your arms to cover your face and roll to the side, as a near-hurricane blasts out of the room. The pain from your slit muscles and flapping skin is forgotten. Your lungs are burning. Your entire body is aflame. Even the Brambleheart is practically moaning, withering before your very eyes. The amount of prana Lancer was draining didn't even compare to Rider even when Rider was using both of his Noble Phantasms.
With absolute certainty, you know you're going to die if this keeps up for much longer.
Out of the corner of your eyes, you see Accolon and pieces of homunculi fly out of the room. You can't see Caster's face, but she's silent.
There is a small moment of quietness. The burning isn't so bad now, but the amount of prana Lancer was draining even by simply walking was making your insides churn.
Silver greaves stop by your face, and she kneels down. A cold gauntlet caresses your face warmly. "I ask of you, are you my Master?"
Your throat hadn't been pierced either. You shudder, gasping for air, "Y-ye-s. L-Lanc-"
[ ] "S-Sav-e A-Alice-"
[ ] "K-k-ill C-aster."
Yes, only one option requires a CS - since it also happens to include the other in itself.
Well, it would've had a better chance of saving Menw himself, but generally the outcomes of the last few posts built up to this point.
I'd like to mention that this was essentially the mid-story darkest moment, equivalent to Berserker killing Archer in Fate, or Shirou losing Saber in UBW and HF. But the actual Holy Grail War starts now.
You're still frozen on the same spot you were, just before one of the side rooms. Your eyes flick towards Lancer, then back to Caster. By the smile on her face, she knows you're evaluating your options. For her part, Caster seems content to give you a moment, perhaps to take in the futility of anything you could do.
You don't risk a glance back into the room, but you remember the sensation of your command seals tingling. That crystal was important.
The War had gone wrong from the very first night, when your Servant had been stolen. The only one to have the expertise for that would've been Caster. The very same Servant whose workshop you stood in now.
"Can we?" You ask, "You're not exactly a civilized Magi."
Beside her, you feel Accolon glaring at you for the proffered insult. Morgan says nothing, but sighs. Before she can say anything else, you continue.
"What did you do with Alice?"
"Alice?" Morgan tilts her head a bit, "Ah, you must mean one of the fledgling Mages. Is that girl why you charged in here like some hero? No wonder. Both she and my former Master are crucial to the survival of this entire city. You know of the Dead Apostle that approaches the city - Einnashe, I believe you call it."
You nod. "The Church has the tools to handle it. Even I could've repelled it if I hadn't been busy fighting this war, fighting you."
This time she laughed, "Fool. Your Church had but one plan, and that was spoilt weeks ago. They have been desperately-"
A feared sorceress from the twilight of the gods and the noontide of the faeries she might be, but even Morgan le Fay had no way of reading your mind. The first warning she has is the twitch of your fingers and of Lancer's feet, simultaneous. You reach for your pockets, where you're holding the last of the bramble-grenades, and Lancer leaps straight into the room like a bullet, spear aimed squarely for the crystal.
But Morgan le Fay was not famed and feared for nothing. There is no reaction from her, no shock or startling. She responds to your provocation so fast it was like she was going to strike at that exact moment regardless. Her response isn't a weak one either.
Space extends. Time slows.
You throw yourself backwards, and it's like you're falling through honey. The air is leaden and sluggish. In front of you, Morgan raises her hand almost lazily, unaffected by the weight of the air. Beside her, Accolon and the remaining Homunculi spring into action, and they're so much faster. They vanish from your eyes the instant they start moving, their speed easily ten times what it had been earlier.
Morgan le Fay had blasted you and Lancer out of time into a realm many times slower. But your thoughts aren't slower, and neither are the living objects you carry on you that aren't you.
All four bramble-grenades explode simultaneously. You scream as barks of iron and thorns shred the front of your face and body, despite your best efforts to direct the explosion. The mass of thorns from floor to ceiling sends you flying backwards, howling in agony but unable to clutch your face as your arms and legs are still entrapped in slowed time.
You aren't blind. Against all odds, you can see. Not one thorn had sliced your eyes out. The world is a sea of blood. Through a haze of red you spend a year blinking rapidly and turning your head to look at Lancer. He has been pushed even deeper into the time-slow than you, and seems almost frozen in midair.
Before him, the ten paces to the crystal were ten-thousand paces now, and with the next blink a hundred thousand. Before your very eyes the room becomes a corridor, and the corridor extends until it reaches infinity, and the crystal vanishes from sight. But not from sense.
Through the infinite corridor the crystal's light reaches you and Lancer. It's the first colour other than red you see. It's blue, and gold, and warm and soft in every way your thorns were not.
You have no words. You can't even raise a hand or clench a fist. Blood floats in the air, a fountain of crimson lazily flying upwards from your body as you fall.
-BREAK IT!!
Searing light erupts from Caster's hands. A silver streak of light that carves a molten trail along the roof and floors, cutting through your brambles with east. From the edges where the light had touched it the remainder of the brambles erupt in flames. Caster sweeps her hand, cutting across horizontally, slagging the walls of her basement. The light passes right before your eyes, missing you by inches, and if your vision hadn't been drenched by the film of blood over your eyes you're sure it would've blinded you before you could even close them. Still you slowly open your mouth into a wordless cry as the heat of the beam burns away the falling blood into vapour and blisters your face.
The spell wasn't magic or light, it was pure fire - so hot that it was white, and so condensed it was a solid beam.
Your command seals pulse for the third time that night. The seals you had gotten from Thomas, Rider's former master, are all gone.
Even an endlessly long room must have an end. An opposite end, or else it simply would not be a room but rather something else. The Command Seal cut through space and time, and bodily took Lancer, hurling him at infinite velocity across the intervening distance. One moment Lancer is only a few feet away from you, the next instant he's teleported right beside the crystal, spear poised to strike.
Before the spear touches the crystal itself it hits a barrier. A corona of pale mauve light shimmers into existence and the spear explodes against it in a shower of sparks.
"What kind of Caster do you take me for, boy?" Morgan smiles, "The kind to leave valuables lying around unprotected?"
No, you had anticipated the protection. You just had no way of knowing how strong it was. Your only hope had been that Lancer's boost would last long enough for him to smash through.
For the first time, a flicker of worry appears of Morgan's face. A single crack appears on the mauve surface of the shell over the crystal. The worry is there and gone in an instant. She raises her hand again, fingers like claws, and slashes the air. Titanic blades of air shred what little remains of your wall, passing clean by you into the room.
You finally hit the ground. Time isn't slowed anymore. Both Accolon and the Homunculi ignore you, rushing straight for Lancer, moving in right behind the wind blades. The space-warping effect is also gone. Only fractions of a second remain.
The crack in the shield widens, and the very tip of Lancer's spear is inside. As if in response to Lancer's presence, the light inside the crystal becomes more and more agitated, shifting and shuddering in a frenzy. It's like there's a person imprisoned in the crystal who knows release is close at hand. The moment Lancer's spear breaks through, the light… leaves. It's seemingly siphoned off into the spear, streamers of blue, gold and silver light passing out of the crystal and into the servant.
Lancer meets Accolon's blow just before it would land, lance to sword, and breaks him.
You throw up your arms to cover your face and roll to the side, as a near-hurricane blasts out of the room. The pain from your slit muscles and flapping skin is forgotten. Your lungs are burning. Your entire body is aflame. Even the Brambleheart is practically moaning, withering before your very eyes. The amount of prana Lancer was draining didn't even compare to Rider even when Rider was using both of his Noble Phantasms.
With absolute certainty, you know you're going to die if this keeps up for much longer.
Out of the corner of your eyes, you see Accolon and pieces of homunculi fly out of the room. You can't see Caster's face, but she's silent.
There is a small moment of quietness. The burning isn't so bad now, but the amount of prana Lancer was draining even by simply walking was making your insides churn.
Silver greaves stop by your face, and she kneels down. A cold gauntlet caresses your face warmly. "I ask of you, are you my Master?"
Your throat hadn't been pierced either. You shudder, gasping for air, "Y-ye-s. L-Lanc-"
[ ] "S-Sav-e A-Alice-"
[ ] "K-k-ill C-aster."
Yes, only one option requires a CS - since it also happens to include the other in itself.
Well, it would've had a better chance of saving Menw himself, but generally the outcomes of the last few posts built up to this point.
I'd like to mention that this was essentially the mid-story darkest moment, equivalent to Berserker killing Archer in Fate, or Shirou losing Saber in UBW and HF. But the actual Holy Grail War starts now.
Last edited:
- Location
- Somewhere North of south
[X] "K-k-ill C-aster."
I'm concerned by the fact that this option was in red
I'm concerned by the fact that this option was in red
Namer
ᵘʷᵘ
- Location
- Bangladesh
- Pronouns
- He/Him
It's red because it means using one of the three remaining Command Seals. He's almost all out of prana, no way to support Lancer in an extended fight.
I should actually go back and update the update before last so all options for using Command Seals are consistent.
Last edited:
- Location
- St. Petersburg
"ease"?
You mean, killing Caster also saves Alice?
It doesn't follow since Alice is within Caster's domain and the latter could kill her with a snap of her fingers out of pure spite.
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Namer
ᵘʷᵘ
- Location
- Bangladesh
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I won't give an OOC explanation atm, but IC, Caster doesn't appear to be that spiteful, and if she wanted to do so she could've done it already.
The choice is essentially between leaving ASAP by completing the original mission or trying to eliminate Caster entirely to remove the future threat.
Last edited:
- Location
- St. Petersburg
She could, but she also needs Alice alive:
Which might not still be the case when she is dying by our (Servant's) hand.
Edit.
Ah. Well then.
[x] "S-Sav-e A-Alice-"
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[X] "K-k-ill C-aster."
Hmm, did we get Lancer Artoria?
Hmm, did we get Lancer Artoria?
[x] "S-Sav-e A-Alice-"
- Location
- singapore
[X] "S-Sav-e A-Alice-"
Dark Lord Potato
Aspiring OverLord from Canada
- Location
- Ottawa, Ontario
[X] "S-Sav-e A-Alice-"
Your sacrifice was not in vain, Menw!
Your sacrifice was not in vain, Menw!
- Location
- Germany
[X] "S-Sav-e A-Alice-"
The Fourth Night - Homeward
Namer
ᵘʷᵘ
- Location
- Bangladesh
- Pronouns
- He/Him
"Understood, Master. You don't have much prana left. I'll try to make this as quick as possible." She lifts you up and slings you over one shoulder. Caster doesn't take the momentary distraction to attack, and you know why.
"Morgan. I'll settle things with you later." Lancer addresses Caster.
Instead of replying, Morgan lets out a long-suffering sigh. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this."
"I'd imagine you weren't. Now, where's the girl- Alice?"
"What will you do if I don't tell you, dearest sister?"
Lancer's only reply is a shift in her posture. A dull thunk echoes through the room as she holds out her lance in full view and strikes it downwards, piercing the stone floor to rest it. "I'll cut you down."
"As expected. Fine, I know when to cut my losses." Caster gestures towards the other room. Fearlessly, Lancer walks past her, only stopping once to kneel down.
"Menw. I remember you. Sometimes, I wish you hadn't gone on Cwlhwch's quest. So much potential, torn apart in an instant by the boar. You could even have risen to even the Round Table in time, I think."
"I didn't realize you cared that much. Did being imprisoned for a few days make you so sentimental? You certainly didn't show as much care building your kingdom upon a mass grave of heroes."
"Morgan…" Lancer mutters through gritted teeth. "Quiet. Release him."
The tension between the two Servants of the York Holy Grail War, two sisters of legend, two Queens in Britain, is palpable. There's a physical sense of tension in the air that has nothing to do with the mastery either held over air and wind. No matter how much of a threat Caster is, the very idea of Lancer engaging in combat terrifies you. The Brambleheart is already reaching the point of rot, despite the far higher amount of prana it was processing from the ambient air of the Reverse Side of the world.
"Right, right." She says, backing off. Caster walks to the opposite end of the room, an indefinable expression on her face. As Lancer stands up and walks away, Menw's body begins to fall apart. His body shimmers, glowing brighter. Pieces fall away, turning into golden light. Golden motes slowly rise into the air, and after a few moments Menw fab Teirgwaedd is gone, not even dust left of him.
The golden light fades away, as you murmur, "Goodbye, Rider."
No more words are exchanged between the sisters. Lancer walks into the other room. It's a prison - half a dozen crystals like the one that held Lancer lining the walls. Four of the crystals are occupied, though you make out any of their features or identities. They must be holding Caster's master or other people of minor magical talent in the city. The fifth crystal was slowly melting.
Even through your bloody eyes you can make out Alice's features. Lancer recognizes her too, and picks her up on her opposite shoulder. She's unconscious, but looks uninjured.
"She'll wake up in a few hours." Caster says as Lancer exits the room. "I've opened a path out of Avalon."
Your Servant nods. But before she leaves, she stops for a moment. "I know you think you had a good reason, but I can't forgive you, Morgan. Not for the past, not for now."
"Do you think I want your righteousness?" Morgan spits. "We went our own ways a long time ago. I will not come crawling back to you for something as pointless as forgiveness. I don't need you to justify my actions."
"Good. I wouldn't want you to. The next time we meet, it'll be as enemies."
"Aren't we already? Looking forward to it." Even when cowed, Morgan le Fay presents a proud figure as she watches you leave. Just as Lancer reaches the bottom of the stairs, she calls out, addressing you directly.
"Do not forget what I said, Alexander Thorn. Neither you, nor the Church have the power to repel Einnashe. The Magi of this era would rather abscond with the grail than save the people of this City. If you want to save-"
"Don't pay attention to her. She's not worth listening to." Lancer whispers to you. She doesn't stop to let you hear the rest of Caster's words, and Morgan's voice fades out of earshot even as your own sight fades into dark.
The sunlight is warm on your face. It's day.
It's day.
The curtains of your room are pulled back. You look around blearily, trying to make sense of your surroundings. When had you gotten back home? Why were you bandaged from head to toe? You try to sit up, but your body is stiff and the bandages are tightly wound. They get in the way. Before you can reach a sitting position, your body's protests push you down back onto the pillow.
Slowly, memories of last night begin to filter back in. The journey through the reverse side of the world. Rider facing Caster, and you and Lancer facing the Green Knight.
No, it wasn't the green knight. Everything is still a little hazy.
Facing Accolon. Rider's corpse hitting the floor. Light and fire and thorns piercing your entire body. Freeing Lancer's heroic spirit. The two sisters facing each other down. On the right hand, your command seals seem to glow, brighter than ever before now that you are a proper master with a proper servant. They're shaped like a spiral, two major lines and several smaller lines around it, spiralling around each other until they reach the tip just below your middle knuckle.
On the left hand and up your left shoulder, the Brambleheart itself is bandaged, though a few thorns have poked out of it. That was strange. It may have been a living mystic code, but it wasn't actually necessary to bandage it. It was a plant, after all. After a moment, you realize it was Alice's handiwork. Only she'd go overboard enough to cover you in so many bandages.
After a few minutes, you slowly raise yourself out of bed. Her healing had worked wonders. You remember your bramble-grenades utterly tearing apart the front of your body, but as you stagger before a mirror and slowly peel away the bandages around your head, wincing as they tug at your raw skin, you see your entire face lined with alternating strips of darker skin and pink, newborn skin.
Alice's magical abilities focused around new growth. You could control plantlife though sympathetic connections between your Brambleheart and that plant, or between the Brambleheart, the Blackthorn and all the plants in its range, but you couldn't make them grow very easily. It took a lot of time and effort to create growing plants such as treant seeds or bramble-grenades.
By contrast, Alice had no trouble getting trees and flowers to bud and spout, or persuading them to release pollen or oils, but she couldn't make them tear their roots out to ensnare someone, and didn't have a lot of prana overall.
She was talented with what she could do, though. You let yourself beam a little with pride, as you gingerly feel the skin on my face. It wouldn't look pretty for a while yet, but you're fighting a war. Laser surgery could wait.
You're surprised she had enough prana to close up every one of your wounds, though. Maybe she'd been practicing with her efficiency, or Lancer had somehow managed to give her some magical energy…
Lancer. You chuckle. Things were back on track. A moment of somberness, as the memory of Rider's body disappearing in golden light appears before you. You… you'd have to find a way to explain to little Thomas why Uncle Rider wouldn't be coming back home.
You peel off some more bandages but leave the bulk on. Slipping on a shirt and loose pants, you head outside. Downstairs, you can hear familiar voices talking. Alice is on the phone. But what draws your eye is right next door. A tall woman, armoured in glittering silver and blue, stands by your desk.
As you enter, she faces you. She's turning a simple golden crown around in her hands - the catalyst you'd originally used to call her forth. Her elegant features speak of a certain agelessness, and her blond hair is tied back in a bun.
"Good morning, Master. I'm glad to see you're well." Arturia Pendragon, the King of Knights, the Once and Future King of Britain and the Bearer of Rhongomyniad, greets you.
It's time for rest, recuperation and planning. What do you do? (Maximum Two)
[ ] Talk to Lancer
[ ] Talk to Alice
[ ] Talk to Tommy
[ ] Contact Father Michael
[ ] Contact the Mages' Association
[ ] Meditate with the Blackthorn
Parts of this were written long before I even had this quest. It came out of a combination of a number of different ideas and concepts, so this update's been a long time coming as well. By the way, meditating with the Blackthorn is basically a bit of slightly faster healing and prana regeneration plus possible update on the war from plant-o-vision.
Voting is plan-style, so instead of counting the top two individual choices I'll be taking the most-voted-for combination of two. This is because some combinations will play off each other.
"Morgan. I'll settle things with you later." Lancer addresses Caster.
Instead of replying, Morgan lets out a long-suffering sigh. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this."
"I'd imagine you weren't. Now, where's the girl- Alice?"
"What will you do if I don't tell you, dearest sister?"
Lancer's only reply is a shift in her posture. A dull thunk echoes through the room as she holds out her lance in full view and strikes it downwards, piercing the stone floor to rest it. "I'll cut you down."
"As expected. Fine, I know when to cut my losses." Caster gestures towards the other room. Fearlessly, Lancer walks past her, only stopping once to kneel down.
"Menw. I remember you. Sometimes, I wish you hadn't gone on Cwlhwch's quest. So much potential, torn apart in an instant by the boar. You could even have risen to even the Round Table in time, I think."
"I didn't realize you cared that much. Did being imprisoned for a few days make you so sentimental? You certainly didn't show as much care building your kingdom upon a mass grave of heroes."
"Morgan…" Lancer mutters through gritted teeth. "Quiet. Release him."
The tension between the two Servants of the York Holy Grail War, two sisters of legend, two Queens in Britain, is palpable. There's a physical sense of tension in the air that has nothing to do with the mastery either held over air and wind. No matter how much of a threat Caster is, the very idea of Lancer engaging in combat terrifies you. The Brambleheart is already reaching the point of rot, despite the far higher amount of prana it was processing from the ambient air of the Reverse Side of the world.
"Right, right." She says, backing off. Caster walks to the opposite end of the room, an indefinable expression on her face. As Lancer stands up and walks away, Menw's body begins to fall apart. His body shimmers, glowing brighter. Pieces fall away, turning into golden light. Golden motes slowly rise into the air, and after a few moments Menw fab Teirgwaedd is gone, not even dust left of him.
The golden light fades away, as you murmur, "Goodbye, Rider."
No more words are exchanged between the sisters. Lancer walks into the other room. It's a prison - half a dozen crystals like the one that held Lancer lining the walls. Four of the crystals are occupied, though you make out any of their features or identities. They must be holding Caster's master or other people of minor magical talent in the city. The fifth crystal was slowly melting.
Even through your bloody eyes you can make out Alice's features. Lancer recognizes her too, and picks her up on her opposite shoulder. She's unconscious, but looks uninjured.
"She'll wake up in a few hours." Caster says as Lancer exits the room. "I've opened a path out of Avalon."
Your Servant nods. But before she leaves, she stops for a moment. "I know you think you had a good reason, but I can't forgive you, Morgan. Not for the past, not for now."
"Do you think I want your righteousness?" Morgan spits. "We went our own ways a long time ago. I will not come crawling back to you for something as pointless as forgiveness. I don't need you to justify my actions."
"Good. I wouldn't want you to. The next time we meet, it'll be as enemies."
"Aren't we already? Looking forward to it." Even when cowed, Morgan le Fay presents a proud figure as she watches you leave. Just as Lancer reaches the bottom of the stairs, she calls out, addressing you directly.
"Do not forget what I said, Alexander Thorn. Neither you, nor the Church have the power to repel Einnashe. The Magi of this era would rather abscond with the grail than save the people of this City. If you want to save-"
"Don't pay attention to her. She's not worth listening to." Lancer whispers to you. She doesn't stop to let you hear the rest of Caster's words, and Morgan's voice fades out of earshot even as your own sight fades into dark.
The sunlight is warm on your face. It's day.
It's day.
The curtains of your room are pulled back. You look around blearily, trying to make sense of your surroundings. When had you gotten back home? Why were you bandaged from head to toe? You try to sit up, but your body is stiff and the bandages are tightly wound. They get in the way. Before you can reach a sitting position, your body's protests push you down back onto the pillow.
Slowly, memories of last night begin to filter back in. The journey through the reverse side of the world. Rider facing Caster, and you and Lancer facing the Green Knight.
No, it wasn't the green knight. Everything is still a little hazy.
Facing Accolon. Rider's corpse hitting the floor. Light and fire and thorns piercing your entire body. Freeing Lancer's heroic spirit. The two sisters facing each other down. On the right hand, your command seals seem to glow, brighter than ever before now that you are a proper master with a proper servant. They're shaped like a spiral, two major lines and several smaller lines around it, spiralling around each other until they reach the tip just below your middle knuckle.
On the left hand and up your left shoulder, the Brambleheart itself is bandaged, though a few thorns have poked out of it. That was strange. It may have been a living mystic code, but it wasn't actually necessary to bandage it. It was a plant, after all. After a moment, you realize it was Alice's handiwork. Only she'd go overboard enough to cover you in so many bandages.
After a few minutes, you slowly raise yourself out of bed. Her healing had worked wonders. You remember your bramble-grenades utterly tearing apart the front of your body, but as you stagger before a mirror and slowly peel away the bandages around your head, wincing as they tug at your raw skin, you see your entire face lined with alternating strips of darker skin and pink, newborn skin.
Alice's magical abilities focused around new growth. You could control plantlife though sympathetic connections between your Brambleheart and that plant, or between the Brambleheart, the Blackthorn and all the plants in its range, but you couldn't make them grow very easily. It took a lot of time and effort to create growing plants such as treant seeds or bramble-grenades.
By contrast, Alice had no trouble getting trees and flowers to bud and spout, or persuading them to release pollen or oils, but she couldn't make them tear their roots out to ensnare someone, and didn't have a lot of prana overall.
She was talented with what she could do, though. You let yourself beam a little with pride, as you gingerly feel the skin on my face. It wouldn't look pretty for a while yet, but you're fighting a war. Laser surgery could wait.
You're surprised she had enough prana to close up every one of your wounds, though. Maybe she'd been practicing with her efficiency, or Lancer had somehow managed to give her some magical energy…
Lancer. You chuckle. Things were back on track. A moment of somberness, as the memory of Rider's body disappearing in golden light appears before you. You… you'd have to find a way to explain to little Thomas why Uncle Rider wouldn't be coming back home.
You peel off some more bandages but leave the bulk on. Slipping on a shirt and loose pants, you head outside. Downstairs, you can hear familiar voices talking. Alice is on the phone. But what draws your eye is right next door. A tall woman, armoured in glittering silver and blue, stands by your desk.
As you enter, she faces you. She's turning a simple golden crown around in her hands - the catalyst you'd originally used to call her forth. Her elegant features speak of a certain agelessness, and her blond hair is tied back in a bun.
"Good morning, Master. I'm glad to see you're well." Arturia Pendragon, the King of Knights, the Once and Future King of Britain and the Bearer of Rhongomyniad, greets you.
Class: Lancer
Master: Alexander Thorn
True Name: Arturia Pendragon
Noble Phantasm: Rhongomyniad - The Spear that Shines to the Ends of the Earth / Invisible Air - Bounded Field of the Wind King
Parameters
Strength: A++
Endurance: B++
Agility: A++
Magical Power: A
Luck: B
Skills
Magic Resistance: A
Cancel spells of A-Rank or below, no matter what High-Thaumaturgy it is. In practice, the Servant is untouchable to modern magi,
Riding: A
All vehicles and all creatures save those of Phantasmal Beast and Divine Beast-rank can be used as mounts.
Charisma: A
Summoned in her homeland, the Once and Future King can be said to have achieved the greatest level of popularity possible.
Sanctuary at the End of the World: EX
The possessor the Holy Lance receives divine protection from the Farthest Ends itself. All physical parameters temporarily rank up during battle. Summoned in her homeland, the effect has been made permanent.
Prana Burst: A
Usage of prana to infuse the weapon and body, then unleashing that prana explosively to increase defense, speed and offensive power. The highest level of Prana Burst is made possible by the dragon's heart within Lancer.
Noble Phantasm
Invisible Air - Bounded Field of the Wind King - C (Anti-Unit, Self)
A barrier that renders the blade hidden by covering it with layers of wind and altering the way light refracts around it. It is closer to a sorcery than a Noble Phantasm. It also has other advantages such as increasing attack power and accuracy. The condensed air can also be used offensively, either for movement or to blow enemies away.
Rhongomyniad - The Spear that Shines to the Ends of the Earth - A++ (Anti-Fortress)
A pillar of light that acts as an anchor tying the Age of Man upon the world to cover up the Reverse Side of the World and the Age of the Gods. In this form, Rhongomyniad is a pale shadow of the true Holy Lance Rhongomyniad, which is a divine construct and ineligible for materialization in a Holy Grail War.
Thirteen Seals restrain its power, and the target of the Holy Lance must meet the following criteria before its True Name and power can be released: the opponent must be stronger; the opponent cannot be an elemental; the battle must be a duel between two; the battle must be against evil; the battle must be for the sake of survival; the battle must be honourable; the battle must be for the sake of the truth; the wielder must not have any personal gain; the wielder must be humane; the wielder's comrades must be courageous; the wielder's comrades must be trustworthy; the battle must be to save the world; there must be no other possible course of action.
When all thirteen seals are released, Rhongomyniad's True Name may be released as a pillar of light amidst the storm, anchoring it, rising as tall as the heavens, shining so bright as to be seen from all the Ends of the World.
Master: Alexander Thorn
True Name: Arturia Pendragon
Noble Phantasm: Rhongomyniad - The Spear that Shines to the Ends of the Earth / Invisible Air - Bounded Field of the Wind King
Parameters
Strength: A++
Endurance: B++
Agility: A++
Magical Power: A
Luck: B
Skills
Magic Resistance: A
Cancel spells of A-Rank or below, no matter what High-Thaumaturgy it is. In practice, the Servant is untouchable to modern magi,
Riding: A
All vehicles and all creatures save those of Phantasmal Beast and Divine Beast-rank can be used as mounts.
Charisma: A
Summoned in her homeland, the Once and Future King can be said to have achieved the greatest level of popularity possible.
Sanctuary at the End of the World: EX
The possessor the Holy Lance receives divine protection from the Farthest Ends itself. All physical parameters temporarily rank up during battle. Summoned in her homeland, the effect has been made permanent.
Prana Burst: A
Usage of prana to infuse the weapon and body, then unleashing that prana explosively to increase defense, speed and offensive power. The highest level of Prana Burst is made possible by the dragon's heart within Lancer.
Noble Phantasm
Invisible Air - Bounded Field of the Wind King - C (Anti-Unit, Self)
A barrier that renders the blade hidden by covering it with layers of wind and altering the way light refracts around it. It is closer to a sorcery than a Noble Phantasm. It also has other advantages such as increasing attack power and accuracy. The condensed air can also be used offensively, either for movement or to blow enemies away.
Rhongomyniad - The Spear that Shines to the Ends of the Earth - A++ (Anti-Fortress)
A pillar of light that acts as an anchor tying the Age of Man upon the world to cover up the Reverse Side of the World and the Age of the Gods. In this form, Rhongomyniad is a pale shadow of the true Holy Lance Rhongomyniad, which is a divine construct and ineligible for materialization in a Holy Grail War.
Thirteen Seals restrain its power, and the target of the Holy Lance must meet the following criteria before its True Name and power can be released: the opponent must be stronger; the opponent cannot be an elemental; the battle must be a duel between two; the battle must be against evil; the battle must be for the sake of survival; the battle must be honourable; the battle must be for the sake of the truth; the wielder must not have any personal gain; the wielder must be humane; the wielder's comrades must be courageous; the wielder's comrades must be trustworthy; the battle must be to save the world; there must be no other possible course of action.
When all thirteen seals are released, Rhongomyniad's True Name may be released as a pillar of light amidst the storm, anchoring it, rising as tall as the heavens, shining so bright as to be seen from all the Ends of the World.
It's time for rest, recuperation and planning. What do you do? (Maximum Two)
[ ] Talk to Lancer
[ ] Talk to Alice
[ ] Talk to Tommy
[ ] Contact Father Michael
[ ] Contact the Mages' Association
[ ] Meditate with the Blackthorn
Parts of this were written long before I even had this quest. It came out of a combination of a number of different ideas and concepts, so this update's been a long time coming as well. By the way, meditating with the Blackthorn is basically a bit of slightly faster healing and prana regeneration plus possible update on the war from plant-o-vision.
Voting is plan-style, so instead of counting the top two individual choices I'll be taking the most-voted-for combination of two. This is because some combinations will play off each other.
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[X] Talk to Alice
[X] Talk to Tommy
Seem the most urgent to me.
[X] Talk to Tommy
Seem the most urgent to me.