This is an original fiction, set in the Fate/Stay Night universe. Attempts have been made to explain mechanics where needed, but novices will likely be in over their head, if unfamiliar. Most parts were written by me. Saber and Lacie's parts were written by a friend in real-life, who goes by the handle RagDollPuppy. As usual with something like, this, all hail Nasu and Type-Moon, and this universe belongs to them, along with characters, names, concepts, etc., they came up with. Most characters are original. If you can look up their name and find them on Type Moon wiki, then they're not ours. Finally, please don't steal this. We'd be quite cross. If you wish to post this somewhere else, just fire me a message! I don't bite. :)

Fate/False Sacrifice

Prologue:

After an incident in the East, which destroyed a major leyline of magical energy, the Magus Association takes upon increasingly radical means to establish a new age of magic. As mana seems to drain from the very ground, due to this magical disturbance, events bring themselves to a new Holy Grail War. With research gleaned from the deceased head of the Einzbern family, Ilya, new rules are set into motion.

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

/-\Trenton/-\

"Son," The forbidding figure above him, with its white mane and hobbling stature, urged him to go on. "Why are you waiting?" Trenton could only smile at his father, through his own mane of reddish hair, he had done it. "This is a summoning of a Heroic Spirit. It is a person from history who is far beyond the ken of mortals. It's only right that there should be a sense of drama don't you think?" His goofy smile was at odds with the serious nature of this event, almost like he considered it a kid's game.

This man, sitting down in the large toolshed, seemed tiny compared to his father, who was looking down at his work. The father, Gerold, had been a muscular man in his youth, but now his body was soft, as could be attributed mostly to a bad knee, and in part to a softening of his daily routine. After all, what is the point in exercise if your body won't do what it wanted anyways? In contrast, the son, Trenton Blackwater, was skinny and lanky, despite being twenty-two. In that way, he took after his mother, though that thought had never crossed Gerold's lips.

"No more fooling around, incant the summoning." Gerold was a rather distant figure to Trenton. Apart from magery, in which Trenton practiced every night, he had no connection with his father. The man saw him exclusively as an heir, and had trusted in his mother, up until her death a few years ago, to raise him as a person. He didn't have much of an idea whether his father approved, but he was a good magus, if only at one aspect.

And that was why, when his father gave a command, he cut his dramatic meandering, and began saying the words. By now, his memorization of these principles was complete, and he didn't even need to think about the incantation. This was, after all, what he had been training for. The catalyst was sure to summon a servant of the class Caster, and that was exactly the class he needed. Past that, he didn't need anymore.

His sense of drama was not disappointed, when light and wind blew forth from the summoning circle in great quantities. It was a spectacle he could hardly believe, and he braced himself, squinting his eyes to try to see what figure would bring itself out of this summoning. He couldn't see it, but his father had braced himself against the wall, and had a grim look on his face.

Finally, it was done. A robed figure, black upon black, with a small sliver of white under the hood, spoke. "So, this is what the Earth has become. Which of you is my master?" Her eyes, barely unhidden, bored into Trenton, making it clear this was a rhetorical question.

Her voice was sultry, the type given to whispers, and it had an all-knowing quality to it. This summoning was not a surprise to her. That said, even if this summoning was a surprise, she would not show surprise. She was a noblewoman, and would not deign to show something she didn't approve of.

Trenton stepped forward. "That is I, m'lady." Gerold sneered at Trenton's bow, but he thought it was only right to be polite to a lady, even if she was a servant from an age of heroes. Especially if she was such a woman, with strength that the weak women of modern times would blanch at. Little did he know how right he was.

With that, she brought back her hood with her hand, revealing her raven-black hair, and beautiful face. "I am summoned here, as Caster." She brought herself into a curtsy. "I am pleased to meet you, my master." Gerold didn't change the look on his face, but he knew just from looking at her. This servant had what was needed to win. "Then, let's get started."

Wednesday, September 14, 2016

IIILacieIII

"...Body of Saint Peter, check. Head of Saint Basil, check. Statue of Our Lady of Westminister, check..." she sighs and loses her enthusiasm "Of course there's really no point in even thinking of that considering where I am." In front of the girl there is a skeleton holding a skull, lying in the middle of a mystic looking circle. The girl continues speaking to herself as if to assess her situation "Really, I was lucky to be able take these from where they were kept without being caught."

"However, the amount of attention they receive from being missing could cause a problem. On top of that there's no guarantee that this combination of relics will have the desired effect. How frustrating…" She silently decides to return them as soon as possible. Then with a bored expression on her face she holds her arm out, and recites an incantation that, were any inhabitants of the church to hear it, could only be described as heresy.

When the incantation is completed, a powerful gust of wind and light engulfs the room. As the wind clears, and the light dissipates, there stands a man of considerable stature with long wavy brown hair, dark eyes, and who is clad in impressive full-plate armor with a war skirt. His most outstanding feature is the blade which in appearance can only be summarized as 'Peerless'. He has pointed at his potential master.

With a face of utter disgust and hatred the unknown man says "Who are you, and art thou my Master?" The girl's looks are in stark contrast to his, with pale white skin, light brown straight hair, light green eyes, wearing a beret, blue-lined black corset, and long ruby-style blue pleated skirt stares at him in awe. He asks again "Who are you and art thou my Master?"

Being pressured as such, the young woman says in an aggravated voice "I am Lacie Blanc and I am your Master!" The knight pauses and, with a fierce fire in his eyes, states "And why is it that you have desecrated these holy artifacts?" He points to the skeleton, and Lacie begins, "It was the only way I could think of to summon you effectively. I tried retrieving your sword from Rocamadour but that proved to be nothing more than a cheap fake. I concluded that combining the qualities of the 3 Saints and the Holy Mother that the blade shared with would allow me to summon you. If you are worried about those pieces of trash on the floor I have already set up for them to be returned!

"As she casts a spell on the items and they seem to disappear it occurs to the girl that she may not be looking at who she intended to summon. Irritated by this thought, she yells, "Tell me who you are and your class Servant!" to which the angry knight replies "I am a paladin who served under the King of Franks and the Emperor of the Romans and I am of the Saber class. Is that enough of an answer for you, Milady!" Lacie makes a crooked grin and says "Yes."

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

/-\Trenton/-\

It was more like an interrogation, than a review of her abilities, the Countess mused. Shortly after her summoning, she had been taken inside the old English mansion, and she was satisfied with the accommodations, at least. Some morning tea, good food, and a luxurious dining room, these were all she needed to be satisfied for now. She guessed the family color was red, given the abundance of it, coloring most of the walls in some form or another. Some vague recalling from her status as servant told her that it was the color of China, though she wondered if that was relevant.

Red certainly was a color for these impulsive types who wanted to know her abilities so soon, when the Holy Grail War was so close at hand. "So, countess…" The younger one, Trenton, began. He was the one she liked more by far, though the eagerness of youth was strong in him. "…you are a blood mage then? You sound like some kind of vampire." He had a wide smile on his face, like that was absolutely the coolest thing ever. She instantly wondered what it would take to break that happy facade.

She nodded, taking the last sip of her tea. When her master had inquired about her abilities, she quickly summarized these, and, to her satisfaction, he was smart enough to keep up. In addition, she felt wonderful magical energy from him. She wondered how deep his reserve was, but he was definitely a talented magus.

"I am a magus whose Origin is Blood. Have you heard of Origins?" They both nodded. "As the Origin of your existence, your soul, it is a rather elementary concept, despite how hard it is to figure out. Regardless, this Origin is the source of my power as Caster. If there is blood involved, I can bypass many rules of magecraft, bringing about near-miracles. It would take a long time to summarize all I can do, but with that as the concept, I can do near anything."

"Now, Master...Gerold…" She said it like that so that they knew which one she would follow, it was essential that any problems in their relationships be sorted out early. She did not like to think of the last time she had failed to do so. "…I have some questions of my own. What are your own abilities as magi? And, further, explain the circumstances of this war to me."

"Wh-she doesn't know about the Holy Grail War?" The one who made this surprised reaction was Gerold. Trenton had heard that he had been one of the people who had made this Holy Grail War come about, but he guessed that they weren't entirely sure about all the results. Figured. He never told his son anything.

"No." She shook here head simply. "Now, will you answer me?" Her stare was firm and resolute. She was a noblewoman, and that meant she knew how to get answers. Not to mention her other, less reputable pastimes.

"Then, to answer your first question. We are the Blackwaters. We aren't especially famous magi, except among certain experts." He didn't betray a hint of disappointment that his family wasn't famous, if there was even a hint of such emotion. "To put it simply, we took only one generation to rise to the title of great magus, even if they don't like to acknowledge that. You see, the ancient old man right here," A seething glare came from across the table. "became a student of the last remaining practicioner of an ancient Chinese martial art. One so wreathed in secrecy, the Magus Association did not even realize it was magic."

"As for the Holy Grail War, we've got to kill all the other Masters in London and then we'll get a wish. Amazing, isn't it?" His simple explanation was all that could be expected really, she mused with a sigh. She'd just have to get it out of him over the time until the war started.

Wednesday, September 14, 2016

IIILacieIII

After the summoning Saber and his Master are sitting in a hotel room. It's a fairly simple looking room, not very high class but comfortable and spacious. Lacie has several maps and rune plates strune across the floor and appears to be planning something. However Saber shows little interest with that at the moment. Instead he is bewildered by something "Why is it that you use your magic so freely and practically broadcast yourself as a magi of runes? Surely you can't be so incompetent to think that doing so matters not."

He is referring to her cloths that are covered in various runes and to the fact that she hypnotized the clerk to allow her to use this room for an undisclosed amount of time without payment. She replies to his question with a blank stare and says "Huh! Why should I hide the fact that I am a magi? Normal people won't be-able to understand the runes I bear nor does it matter they would usually refuse to believe magic if they saw it and nobody normal would believe them if they decided to speak of it. As for magi I feel no desire to hide myself from worthy rivals."

Saber sighs and continues "Even so my lady don't you agree that you should use your magic sparingly? After all using your magic so much will have an effect on my own ability to fight." His Master glares at him "One: aren't you confident in your own combat abilities that you won't have to resort to such costly measures? Two: Just what in the bloody hell do you think I'm planning with all these materials in front of me?" The knight smirks "Haha! You speak well of course I have no doubt in my prowess but..."

He pauses "As an honorable knight I will not accept this plan you seem to be hatching. It surely involves the sacrifices of others or else you wouldn't be using a boundary field." The man gives her an intense look. The pale girl girl smiles "Good. I agree a plan that requires unnecessary sacrifices is no good." Saber is perplexed by her reaction.

"Allow me to elaborate. We are in the magi capitol of the world, London, well within a 2 mile radius of Clock Tower. Due to that fact many amateur magi will be experimenting within this field. I intend to harness the excess power these magi expel when they cast their magic" Saber is surprised by the simple logic of this plan. "I see, that would be acceptable. It's so simple it's brilliant. With this we will have an irreplaceable advantage over our adversaries."

She replies rather arrogantly "Hmpf. There's that but honestly I could smash any magi into dust if need be. Our success is already assured even without this field." Saber laughs and with that he has gained confidence in his new Master and realizes why it was her who summoned him.

|||Albert Leed|||

The man was blonde, almost stereotypically so, with his tall figure, blue eyes, and good looks. It was only right, he thought in his mind, that the son of an established family of magi be the best in every regard. That, however, left quite a burden. He was bored, in essence, and for that, his morality suffered, leading him to idling his time tormenting his peers and colleagues.

Now, however, he had found a creative outlet. He had always felt that he was above mortal affairs, that he should be part of some greater fight, like the heroes of old, but was constrained by modern society, and its mediocrity. Naturally, when he found out about the Holy Grail War, he jumped on the opportunity.

And now, with the sword of Charlemagne, Joyeuse, in front of him, he had a chance at something greater. The circle he had constructed in the yard of his mansion was made of gold. An almost ludicrous price, but for what it would summon, it was worth it.

"King of History, I call thee to this place.

Thou shalt be the Rider, but I shall hold thy reigns

Come, my Servant, and fight for me in, the Holy Grail War!"

The words differed from the last war, but judging by what he had been told, it didn't matter. If that old man wished for him to fight in this war, he would. The light shined, and the wind blew ever greater, obscuring the hedges and cobblestones of the garden. Just when it seemed to be too much to bear, it ended.

It took several seconds for his eyes to readjust. He had covered them as the ritual took place, but still, he could barely see. Did I summon the correct servant? "Are you him? Are you the Rider, Charlemagne?" Now that he could see, he knew the man was practically monstrous in size, bigger than the records even said he was. He was probably seven and a half feet tall.

"Yes. And are you…my master?" For the first time in his life, Albert felt awed. "Yes, yes, I am, King of God." He said, resisting the urge to bow. This was only the beginning, yet it felt just as good as he thought it should.