Author's Notes: Out of a years-long hibernation, I finally return to the land of the living! This time around, I'm going for a different approach, and am lampooning Fate/Stay Night. The new servant classes and identities here may or may not be obvious, depending on which one we're talking about here. I haven't finished it yet, jusso you know, and I haven't played the game because I'm purportedly too young, so there can, and most likely will, be mistakes… Well then, here goes nothing!
Disclaimer: Fate/Stay Night belongs to TYPE-MOON.
Fake/Stale Nike: The Nth Holy Grail War
By DJ Madcat
Chapter 1: Yo-Ho-Ho and a Bottle of Mana
The year? Nobody really cares about that. The place? Probably Fuyuki City, since nobody really cares about that either. It is the eve of the beginning of the Nth Holy Grail War. And yes, nobody really cares about the cardinality of the damn thing anymore. There have been so many that the Mage Guild had not only lost count, they didn't bother to try counting again. If that's the case, then why doesn't the city appear to be some kind of futuristic dystopian setting? Because the year doesn't really matter! It could be the 1980's for all we care!
Edison Pride dropped the catalyst, a heart-shaped locket, into the toilet and chanted his summons, driving all of his effort into the casting. He had prepared a really long time for this day, and he wasn't going to mess up. No Siree Bob, he was going to win this war, and to do that, he was going to get himself the greatest of the Servants for sure!
"Smite my foes beneath your feetLet my blood be your bloodAnd your sword be mineI call upon thee to serveO great warrior!"
The grey circuit, which had been carved into the inside of the toilet, exploded into a blast of blinding glare and urine-polluted water, engulfing his small rented apartment. Edison didn't stay at an estate like most other magicians in the city. No, he was merely renting a tiny 5x5 on the third floor of a building that looked like it had seen better days. Despite the fact that the Pride family was notorious for being one of the most extravagant of the many mage families in the world, he wasn't one to spend on such unnecessary things as purchasing an estate from somebody. After all, he was only staying in this blasted place for the duration of the war. No need to make it look like he was taking permanent residence.
And if he drew his card right, then there wouldn't be a real problem. He stepped out of the cramped bathroom to see just what he now had. Odd… no servant. No, the small living space, from the makeshift living room to the already-decrepit kitchen, was completely trashed, as though it had been struck by a three megaton bomb. He felt a presence, though… there was definitely a servant hiding somewhere around here.
He stepped outside and leaned on the railings of the walkway, scouring the cityscape for any sign of his partner. Nope, still no servant. An odd point of interest, though, was the fact that just awhile ago, it was bright and sunny. Now, it seemed, that his apartment was directly under one particularly dark and low-floating cloud. Was his luck so bad that it was now going to rain on his place, and only his place? A moment of realization hit the magician. "Bloody hell, I can feel it… the servant is up… there!" he pointed his finger to emphasize his point.
No sooner than when he said this, a rope ladder rolled out from within the cloud, extending just in front of the rails where he was standing. Smirking to himself, the badly dressed young man tipped his bowler hat to the side as he ascended the elastic ladder, and up into the condensation. Upon closer inspection, it was more of a fog than a cloud, and what's more, the ladder itself hung from what appeared to be an old sailing ship that looked like it had been raised from the very depths of the ocean.
"A ghost ship, eh?" A very interesting premise indeed. Edison continued his climb until he reached the railings, where he was greeted by, for all references, what one expected to find on a ghost ship: a ghost pirate captain.
This particular captain, however, looked more fish than man. His head looked like an octopus wearing a barnacle-encrusted hat sitting on his shoulders, albeit he had a mouth and eyes, and a 'beard' that consisted of a lot of tentacles. His left arm was more of a crab's claw, while his right was something that had rather not be discussed. In general, he wore what could be accounted for the standard pirate captain regalia. Taking a gentlemanly bow, the old seadog announced himself with a heavy Scottish accent. "Servant Buccaneer has arrived. Welcome aboard, Master."
Edison blinked. Buccaneer? He didn't remember there being such a class. And yet here he was, the man… or fish-thing… whatever… introducing himself as such. "Much obliged." The badly dressed magician looked around the deck, finding it disturbingly empty. "So, old chap… you mind telling me where your crew is?"
"Aye, about that…" Buccaneer scratched his head, or rather, rubbed his claw against it in the equivalent. "Y'see, Master, the Throne of Heroes has dictated that Ah start without one, for one crewman counts as one soul… and ye know what that means."
"No, not really…"
"Ah'm in a great shortage of mana right now."
"Really?"
"Ye know, for a master, ye don't seem t' sound like one. How long have ye been preparin' for this war anyway?" Buccaneer drew a bottle of rum from somewhere, de-corked it, and took a swig.
Edison hung his head in at what revelation he was about to make. "Two days."
Buccaneer immediately spat out the rum, spraying it all over his master. Edison merely shut his eyes as his already badly dressed self was worsened. His dirty white bottom-down shirt took the brunt of the foul liquid, while his dusty black braced pants only dampened a bit. "TWO DAYS!? WHAT KIND OF MASTER ARE YE!?"
Edison wiped the mixture of saliva and alcohol from his face and explained. "Technically, I've been preparing for the last fifteen years, but I hit my head hard a couple days ago. Been cramming on the bloody basic magic ever since."
"Well that's just great" the pirate threw his arms up in frustration. "How are we supposed to win now?"
"We could start by getting you more mana." The badly dressed magician rubbed his chin. He'd read enough on that to know that without enough mana, a servant was as good as dead. "But… how do we do that?"
Buccaneer calmed down somewhat and sighed. This was going to be a problem. "There's two ways t' increase a servant's mana count. The first method involves some participation on the master's part, while the second one basically has me runnin' around and devourin' the souls of bystanders to up mah mana level." The servant clicked his teeth, jerking his head to the left in some kind of tic. "And trust meh, ye don't wanna try the first one."
"Why not?"
"Ye don't wanna know that either…"
Edison sighed nodded. He would have to look up that first method later to find out just why. "Alright then. You seem to know more about this than I do at the moment. What's the game plan?"
"One hundred souls," Buccaneer paused, that tic of his taking place again, "Three days."
The badly dressed magician folded his arms together and bowed his head, deep in thought. After a few moments of consideration, he looked his servant straight in the eye, with an inexplicable look on his face. The next words that came from his mouth said it all. "Sounds good to me…"
May or may not be continued…
Author's notes: So yeah, here's my first shot at lampooning FSN. The implied first method is something I've read on the net, and is supposedly the method used in the game… Considering its nature as an eroge, and the comments on the particular scene involving said method, I simply put two and two together. Correct me if I'm wrong. Also, I'll give free cookies to whoever figures out the obvious identity of Buccaneer. Please review!