The Grail still only allows one wish, yep. The introduction of the Key system was supposed to provide an alternate win condition compared to "kill everyone", the slightest nod to the Church's greater involvement. They'd rather the magi be responsible for turning it into a Murder Death Kill instead of almost a requirement if they're going to be backing the War rather than just moderating.
Of course, it turns out that the Church's rep seems to have had ulterior motives (it's the Fate franchise, so sky still blue, water still wet) so take that for what it's worth too.
"My Servant… he's fighting for his life against Berserker out there. Help him. I'll owe you."
He looks torn, but sighs. "Tell me more."
"Her Berserker's a monster. The Beast of Gevaudan, a werewolf. He might keep rampaging if she doesn't calm him down. And she infused it with power from some sort of wolf god. He's stronger than a Spirit of his age and fame would indicate.
"Then you're going to owe me a great deal for this help." His expression is grim.
"I'll keep my word. What's your name?"
"Holtzer. Andre Holtzer." He meets your eyes, peering into you, then nods and rises. "Lancer, if she's stable, let's carry her away from this rather determined young woman and go face Berserker."
Lancer looks up at his Master, then you. His expression is difficult to read. If he's a healer, is he judging you for the injuries you inflicted? No spirit summoned for the Grail War should be a true pacifist. But he shoulders Saikou and walks into the trees, following his Master.
You try to rise, but your body still won't respond. You turn your senses inward and find that the interface between your body's spiritual network and. Nervous system has been disabled. You have no control over most of your body. A martial arts pressure point technique, executed at a high level… or rather a Skill.
You'll recover, but it will take time, and for the moment, all you can do is crawl. You focus through your link with Archer, try to see the battle from his perspective…
----
Berserker leans in past your machete and bites, almost savaging your neck. Too close, you've let him get too close again - he's too fast, too strong. Your body bears the marks of a half dozen wounds already, and while none of them are as serious as they would be in the flesh, they still hamper you, mana literally flowing out of you as you continue your skirmishing battle against him, staying at range and landing blows when you can.
Berserker is slowing too - poison and the sheer weight of physical damage have been doing their work. His healing has slowed down - the damage you inflict takes seconds to heal, not heartbeats. But you have fought many battles in your life and know this attrition match will not end in victory.
You ready yourself to unleash your Phantasm, hoping that your Warchief's battle with her foe hasn't weakened her too greatly. Your battle has taken you far afield from her, leaving a trail of destruction in your wake. There's no time to focus on the link and get a clearer picture of her condition. You have faith in her strength.
Just as a black and green aura starts to gather about you and mana to flood into your veins, you stop in astonishment as a slim man with three pointed spear flies into view and slams it his weapon into Berserker's side. The wolf lets out a howl of anger and pain and hurls himself bodily backwards off the spearpoint, then lunging forward and leaping at the Lancer, who dodges with uncanny grace as Berserker lands into a tree.
Lancer leaps to your side. You're caught by the graceful elegance of his movements and the way gravity barely seems to touch him. He lands besides you and you pull yourself back into a ready stance, stealing precious seconds to recover. "Are we allies then?"
He bows his head slightly. "It would seem so. Our Masters have made a temporary pact."
You laugh and point your weapons at Berserker, matching your lines of attack with Lancer. "Well then! Let us brave the beast together!" The battle has just changed.
Berserker stands, and you can feel the hatred from him, the sheer killing intent so thick that the mana in him is making the trees around him shake. He drops his front paws on the ground, and he inhales.. And keeps inhaling, past what should be possible, till his throat and chest begin to glow.
---
"And I'll huff, and I'll puff…" You think of the children's story as you watch Berserker through Archer's eyes. Berserker is drawing in air and mana in impossible amounts. He doesn't have a voice to call out its true name, but he's clearly about to unleash a Noble Phantasm.
Do you:
[ ] Tell Archer you trust in his strength. Given Saikou's condition, Berserker's Phantasm won't be at full power. He can survive it.
[ ] Use a Command Seal and order Archer to endure.
[ ] Order Archer to use his Noble Phantasm. It's not a perfect counter but it will give him an edge, and unlike a Command Seal it's a renewable resource.
[x] Order Archer to use his Noble Phantasm. It's not a perfect counter but it will give him an edge, and unlike a Command Seal it's a renewable resource.
I want to give him a stink eye and remind him that it is only because of his actions that we find ourselves in this situation, but I will restrain myself.
You don't know. Naja knows, because there's no reason she wouldn't have discussed it with Archer, but I'm maintaining it as a mystery until there's a reason for it to be disclosed in the story, such as it being used.
[x] Order Archer to use his Noble Phantasm. It's not a perfect counter but it will give him an edge, and unlike a Command Seal it's a renewable resource.
You don't know. Naja knows, because there's no reason she wouldn't have discussed it with Archer, but I'm maintaining it as a mystery until there's a reason for it to be disclosed in the story, such as it being used.
[X] Order Archer to use his Noble Phantasm. It's not a perfect counter but it will give him an edge, and unlike a Command Seal it's a renewable resource.
You can't just trust Archer to stand against this. Use your Noble Phantasm. Then show this wolf who the real hunter is.
---
You hear your Warchief's command and your grin grows broad. She wants you to let loose? So be it. "Headhunter's Glory!"
As Berserker prepares to release his attack, you are surrounded by an aura of flaming black and green energy flickering with the shadows of screaming, mummified heads. Mana floods into your veins as your muscles bulge and you laugh madly with exhilaration.
Headhunter's Glory is a representation of Archer's status as a legendary headhunter and an outgrowth of the Archer Class's Independent Action Skill. In life, the preparation of taken heads by ritualists of the Khazad-Dusun would allow for their headhunters to partake in their courage and power. As Archer's Noble Phantasm, the effect is dramatically increased. His baseline strength, agility, and endurance are all boosted, and he gains access to a deep well of mana as well as the equivalent to Mana Burst at a rank befitting a Noble Phantasm. As Archer is said to have claimed 42 heads in his life, but the names and identities of his foes are not recorded, it can be thought of him drawing on the power of 42 nameless Servants (such as those of the Ionian Hetairoi) in addition to his own.
While not costly in mana in the traditional sense of a Noble Phantasm that requires mana to activate, maintaining the Phantasm is a strain on his body's Magic Circuits and those of his Master due to the increased load. Additionally, the mana well is deep but not inexhaustible, and must be recovered as if it were a normal mana reserve (so if one burnt through the reserve, then activated it again an hour later, it would still be mostly empty).
Berserker stops inhaling, his chest a glowing star of gathered power. You stand forward and plant your blowgun-spear in the ground as you thrust your machete forward with the other, blazing with mana as Berserker roars out a hurricane.
Your machete's blade cuts through the wind coming at you as you pour mana into it, a flickering candle in a storm that seems as vast as the world. You're knocked back on your heels, barely holding on against the incredible torrent of wind. Lancer beside you has planted his spear as well and is weathering the onslaught, but only barely. You shift in front of him, step by painful step, and shelter him with your bulk as he digs his shoulder into your back, combining your efforts to stand against the assault.
The wind is more like manifest wrath than the movement of air. The sheer force of it erodes your skin and the flesh underneath, causing agony you can't afford to notice. Slowly but surely you find yourself and Lancer being pushed backwards. Around you is destruction - trees are being uprooted, boulders sent tumbling, and flying grit and debris add more pain and damage. A branch pierces your stomach like a dagger, and all you can do is grit your teeth and bleed as you feel your body start to give in and disappear under the weight of the attack.
Suddenly, though, you feel a pleasant warmth in your veins. Your Warchief's mana, and another source of mana behind it… silvery and cold, but also comforting. Caster, aiding your Warchief in aiding you. Reinforcement at range… she's really something. It gives you the strength to hold on just a bit longer… and then just a bit more.
You can't say how long Berserker's Phantasm lasts - time has no meaning to you in the heart of the tempest. But eventually, somehow, it's over, and you're still alive, even if you have wounds where your flesh has been abraded down to the bone. You cough up blood, but bare your teeth savagely, and your aura burns brightly as you ready your weapons for attack. You still have plenty to give, and Berserker looks spent and empty, though his eyes are still filled with hate.
Do you:
[ ] Finish this at range. You know better than to underestimate a desperate beast.
[ ] Close in and take the beast's head for your collection.
You fight the urge to go forward and claim Berserker's head with your machete. He will be at his most dangerous now, and you're an Archer, not a Saber or Berserker.
You realize that the wound Lancer inflicted earlier still hasn't fully healed. Good. He's weakening.
Berserker growls and charges, and you set your blowgun to your lips and send more darts at him. Now that you are using your Glory, they are glowing with dark green flame and dripping with venomous mana. They hit Berserker like bullets, gouging into his flesh and delivering their cargo with deadly efficiency. Berserker is blasted backwards by the first impact but then keeps coming. But drawing on your Phantasm, you have the speed to keep him at a distance.
Lancer follows as you dance death with the beast. He's fast and graceful, though he can't keep up with your enhanced speed, and when Berserker gets too close with a lucky, desperate leap, he wards Berserker off with his spear again.
Berserker's barely healing now, and you swear his blood must be mostly poison. Still, he keeps coming, driven by rabid, frothing hatred. You're badly hurt yourself, and you know the Glory is putting a strain on your damaged body, even as your Warchief and Caster work to repair it at a distance. But the wolfman is slowing, and you can keep going as fast and as hard as you need to as long as you pay the price after.
If Berserker had more intelligence, he might be able to adjust his tactics to match you - hurl objects at you, use cover. But the Mad Enhancement takes just as it gives, and the dynamics have reversed themselves - now he's the one taking hits and not able to inflict damage in return. Eventually, Berserker sinks to his knees as the poison overtakes him… his body is studded with darts and open wounds. He summons some last reserves of strength, and makes a violent charge at you - as fast as he was in the beginning, and it almost catches you off-guard.
Almost.
Your dart catches him in the throat and he's knocked onto his back. He struggles once more to rise, but just twitches and spasms. You see his body start to morph back from man to wolf, and then to disintegrate into motes of mana as he returns to the Grail. The last you see of him is the face of a young man, scarred and battered, eyes wide and unseeing.
Before you release your Phantasm (and likely have a nice sit down if you don't just collapse), do you:
[ ] Honor Berserker as a worthy adversary.
[ ] Express sadness for the human lost within the beast.
[ ] Proclaim your and Lancer's victory over a mighty foe.
This was honestly the toughest vote for me to decide so far, but in the end I have settled on this one. Berserker pushed us to our limits while outnumbered, and in an environment that heavily favored us. Even under those conditions, we needed to use our Noble Phantasm just to survive theirs. If either we or Lancer hadn't been here, or if we had given in to our bloodlust and entered melee, the outcome could have been very different.
The end of a battle is complicated, and you might feel many emotions. But right now you mostly feel triumph. You could have died today, and you didn't, and Lancer fought well by your side - though you note he still kept his own Phanasm hidden. Well, that was his right, and you showed your power by finishing the situation.
You turn and clasp Lancer's hand and raise it high. "Tonight we fought Berserker and won! I am proud to call you ally, Lancer! The deeds of this Grail War will echo throughout history as we forge new legends for ourselves, I think!"
Lancer is startled, but recovers quickly, and inclines his head. "A worthy battle, and well fought. I am glad we were not on opposite sides tonight." He releases your hand. "But I think it is time for us to part."
You nod, and clasp your hand to your chest in salute and let him withdraw. Then you let the fires of your Phantasm fade from your flesh, and are immediately glad of the extremely comfortable log that happens to be underneath you.
---
You stand with Caster's assistance. Your legs still feel asleep, but you can walk. Thanks to Caster's assistance, you were able to lend Archer support in the middle of the onslaught from Berserker's Phantasm. He makes a small tutting sound and dusts you off, though your clothes are still dirty from falling onto the ground.
"Is LeBlanc alright?" You haven't seen him since Caster disappeared with him.
"He'll live, but he'll take time to heal fully. Sadly it's not so easy to fix flesh and blood as it is us Servants. I can do more once we're in my Sanctuary." You nod, and go with him to LeBlanc's side. The young man is pale, and Caster seems to have taken most of his shirt as a bandage - you see Latin script upon it and sense mana from it. He looks up at you. "Did you get her?"
"Not exactly. But Berserker's dead." You fill him in on the events of the night, and he looks suitably impressed before breaking off a pained groan to hold his side, and Caster fusses with him again.
You may not have made it out of tonight with a Key, but you vanquished an enemy Servant, reducing the number of your opponents. His Master survived, but she was badly hurt and will likely need time to recover, even with aid from a healer Servant, and she's a non-threat unless she can find another Servant to bond with. You'll take this as a victory, of a sort.
Archer has resumed spirit form and floats by your side. His physical form was badly damaged, and though you can patch and reinforce his flesh with magic, only time and rest will restore the underlying architecture. His Noble Phantasm wasn't deeply drained - you estimate there's at least half its capacity left, and it will refill. You dipped into your own reserves to fight Saikou, but not enough to damage your Circuits, and you avoided the use of Command Seals. You were hurt by Saikou's curses, but avoided anything crippling. In terms of resources expended, you could have done worse.
There's no fast-paced run back to the city - neither LeBlanc nor Archer are up for it. Which means it's a walk, Caster showing the strength of even a Caster Servant by carrying LeBlanc. You pass the devastation left by Berserker's Phantasm - it left a scar on the land at least a half mile long.
Once you reach the parking lot, you manage to call a taxi to pick you and LeBlanc up - Caster assumes spirit form as well. You don't know what the driver thinks about your wounds, but you suppose it doesn't matter.. You go to the Tabernacle - you feel safer in a friendly Caster's Territory than in your rented apartment tonight.
Things start to blur as you drift off on the ride back and don't really remember making it into a room in the Tabernacle, but eventually Caster wakes you up in an unused office with a mug of tea that you gratefully accept, along with an only slightly stale muffin that you greedily devour.
Reviewing the news, you see that there were reports of a riot and gas leak downtown - several blocks appear to have suffered heavy damage. Whatever happened up north seems to have gone more quietly. There's a scattering of other news, but it seems to be relating to mundane matters.
The next Key (or Keys, now?) is supposed to appear the night after this. LeBlanc and Archer are wounded and need to recover. How do you start the day?
[ ] Spend time working on reassembling and deciphering the notes found in Roark's apartment.
[ ] Spend time in the Tabernacle in preparation - honing your combat magecraft with Caster, fortify, maybe craft a Mystic Code together if there are useful materials.
[ ] Go forth into the city with Caster and see what information you can find and what trouble you can stir up.
[X] Spend time working on reassembling and deciphering the notes found in Roark's apartment.
As for the other options; training our combat magic isn't a bad idea but it is a thing that we hopefully won't need, where finding out what the heck is happening with the grail should be useful even if things don't go horribly wrong. Going out to find trouble with somebody else's Servant while ours is on the mend seems dangerously naive. Caster may be an ally right now, but we wouldn't be a proper magus if we trusted our allies to never backstab us.
You spend the morning with Caster. It's a laborious process with the burned pages - repairing and reinforcing them with magic so they don't become any more damaged, and then trying to recreate the whole of the altered Grail from the pieces.
It's not impossible. But it would have been a hell of a lot easier with a complete set.
You actually enjoy the work - it reminds you of your schooling and training, when the world was at its simplest. You can imagine your father standing over you, asking, "Alright, Naja. If you have this part of the spell, and know it connects to these others here, and here… what did the mage do? Focus! Clear away distractions. You are a Mishra, you can do this."
But the distractions won't go away. The questions surrounding this gnaw a t you. "I still don't know… did Roark intend to make the Grail overload? Or was it a result of him working at cross purposes to Asturias? Hell, did Asturias try to out something secret in, and end up with something incompatible?"
Caster steeples his fingers. "Let me make us some more tea." He returns with a fresh pot, and opens a packet of Oreos, offering it to you with remarkable dignity. "I know there is a saying people of this time have, that you should never attribute to malice what can be attributed to incompetence. I quite respect that. But from what I have seen and heard of Roark, he does not strike me as incompetent. In matters of intrigue, I always find myself asking these questions. What was the outcome? Who benefited? If you look at the end, you can trace back to the beginning."
"We've been assuming Roark got the Greater Grail. Who knows what tricks he could pull with that?"
"Once summoned, the Lesser Grail should be largely independent of the Greater. There are indeed things that could be done with it, but I think it's an inelegant answer. Why not kill Asturias and spirit the Grail away? Why the mana flare and additional Servants? And… why did he have notes on the Throne of Heroes in here?" He pointed to a part of the stack that wasn't Grail designs. It was several pieces of paper, half burnt, some notes on the Throne copied from some old text.
"Why wouldn't he? The Grail reaches the Throne, summons the Heroic Spirits. That's the point."
"You're not looking at the whole picture, Master Mishra. Or rather, you're looking at the picture, but not what's not included. Look at that paper again. See the last page?"
You nod, still not quite seeing what he's getting at.
"Intrigue again, Master Mishra. The first pages describe the functioning of the Throne of Heroes and describes it in specific terms useful for magecraft. They tell us what we already know about the Throne - a reasonable overview. The last page is badly burnt."
Caster looks at you over the tea and a smile is on his lips as he takes a sip, then speaks. "So. What is on the burnt page?"
You look at it, closely for the first time. Faint diagrams, scribbled notes, difficult to make out around the scorch marks. Caster's right. You don't know much about the Throne of Heroes besides the basics - it's a recording and storage device that keeps Heroic Spirits, should the World need them again, and the Grail has the means to access them, download their information into Servant vessels. So… what's missing? "Is there anything about the Throne of Heroes I should know?"
"Most likely yes. But if you ask if there's something I know, that you do not… no. Being in the Throne is not an experience like living and breathing. It is not a place I could walk and explore and plumb the secrets of. But I would not be surprised if it had them."
Just then, Caster looks up. "Someone approaches. A Servant, I believe."
You stand up. "Then let us go and greet them." Archer, can you fight?
I could, if needed. But I need more time for a full recovery.
You nod, and guess that for Archer to admit that at all means his injuries are still paining him. Best to see if you can face this with Caster.
---
You and Caster look out the window of the Tabernacle. Outside the Sanctuary stands a woman… no, Caster is right, a Servant, in a garish costume of red and black checkered fabric. She wears a black mask and at her side is a wooden sword. Some strange form of Saber, you're certain. She crosses her arms and calls out. "Where is the priest? I must speak with him at once!"
Caster's lips thin as he whispers to you. "The costume is that of a harlequin from the Italian comedia.. But… something about them isn't right. Look closely."
You follow his gaze to the edge of the boundary between his Sanctuary and the outside. It's bending inwards, and the dividing line is writhing eerily. You look at the harlequin again… the costume's red is the color of dried blood, and the patches of black are midnight black, and they seem to be writhing about on her costume in the same way, making your skin crawl in sympathy. The mask appears to be sunken into her skin. When you extend your mage senses, you get another shock. "Whatever they are… they make my skin crawl. And… there's a person in there, isn't there? They're possessed by their Heroic Spirit. I've read the theory - they'd be called a Pseudo-servant or a Demi-Servant, depending on how it worked."
Caster shakes his head. "I don't believe that's a Heroic Spirit. I may not know all in the Throne by sight, but I believe I would remember a harlequin. But yes... something is possessing her, in the vessel of a Servant."
The harlequin Servant strides back and forth at the edge of the Sanctuary and bellows again. "Priest! I demand entrance! Or I will not be responsible for the consequences!"
With Archer still wounded and a Saber's magic resistance, this isn't a good match for you.
Before you try to find out what she wants, do you:
[ ] Have Archer get ready to evacuate the Tabernacle
[ ] Have Archer assume a position to snipe from the spire of the Tabernacle
