A Kingly Endeavour

Rated: R for Ranni's rampage

Discaimer: Elden Ring belongs to Fromsoft and Fate/ franchise to TypeMoon

Chapter 4: A Fell Omen

The gate to Stormveil loomed before Gilgamesh.

It was a grand structure, both in size and aura the gate gave to those that stood in its shadow. A grand segregation, separating Limgrave in two, the walls of Uruk separated his own kingdom from the enemies that threatened his subjects. These stone gates merely guarded a passage down from the mountain plateau on which the Stormveil castle had been perched upon. A common thing he noted was that in this world all was wondrously strange, giants walked the lands with cavities in their abdomens, giant tentacled monsters crawled the lands like octopi and there were scarcely anyone non-hostile to the King's approach, how disgraceful.

At the very least he had made acquaintance with some more civilized beings in these lands, for example a helpful beastman seamster, the dog-man Blaidd and his mistress, the Witch Ranni- a four-armed demigoddess inhabiting a doll's body.

Ranni was a rather amusing spitfire, not only dabbling in magecraft, but in deicide as well, she was the first being in this world to pique his curiosity and thus invoke the King's attention on her. After the blonde demigod explained in vivid detail what he would do to the mongrel who had reduced him to this state, the petite doll's spirit face had smiled and she had vanished, handing him an ashen effigy of three wolves. To his surprise, by the act of ringing a bell, a pack of spectral hounds was summoned.

Granted they were a small pack of mongrels, but the idea of having a powerful spectre under his command to take care of the rabble was too good to pass over.

The sky was turning gray and, in the midday, it was still bright as the accursed Erdtree showered the land with light. It stood there, mocking the god king for all his demigod might and guile Gilgamesh could not fell it without his gate. It was inevitable that he would have to become a hyena, a carrion crow, the ignoble vulture and scavenge what remained of the once proud demigods. They had engaged in the Shattering and in doing so had shattered all that mattered to them. It was quite ironic to the alien demigod, but there was little to smile about. His powers were stolen and the much weaker and humiliating gate that called itself Grace had taken its place.

He could retrieve items he had obtained, but they could not be launched and did not contain his arsenal.

The King of Uruk opened the void given by such grace and pulled out a branch full of Rowa raisins. He offered the dried fruit to his horned companion, who affectionately nuzzled his hand and took the offering with a grace of a living god. Loathe as he was to admit it, this horse had character and none of his finest horses in life could match the speed of the steed. He doubted that even Rider, Iskandar, the King of Konqueror's steed could match Torrent in speed and manoeuvring. The ability to jump higher than most Servants couldn't be underestimated.

"Now both Ranni and Melina said that we will find our easiest mark in Stormveil castle"

Neigh.

"Indeed, as loath as I would first face the runt of the litter" Gilgamesh nodded at the horse's oh so useful input "he is responsible for those accursed scions and thus deserves an agonizing death by default."

Neigh.

"What excellent idea, we could tie him to a raft, smear him with honey and let him float in the river as insects would devour his very body!"

The horse huffed as if understanding his great designs for the so called "Golden Lord". Indeed, perhaps Kirei had managed to leave an imprint in his personality, sharpening his taste for inflicting pain and the pleasure derived from it. Far from him to deny his urges, yet it screamed impractical to Gilgamesh, whose current goals were incompatible with such waste.

"Perhaps I will just hack off his limbs and let him bleed out"

Patting the horse once more on the back, the golden armoured man jumped onto Torrent's saddle, yanking the horse's reins and let them trot forward, a black iron sword in his hands and a horn bow on his back. One thing that remained the same was his Golden Rule, an ability he had cultivated in life by hoarding treasures. Likely in hindsight the wretch had forgotten to strip him of such intrinsic ability and this was how he had found the two weapons in his fake treasury along with few others.

In front of him he spotted a barricade of Godsworn, armed with crossbows and one of the large trolls looming far up the bridge, looking down on them. As a betting man, the King of Uruk was willing to wager that this unsightly creature would attempt to jump down in the middle of the road to kill the survivors.

How very underhanded of such a creature.

Putting away his sword, the King of heroes tied his reins on the horn of the saddle and pulled out an arrow. Drawing back the string with all his might, the red eyed man squinted and aimed. Air whistled and before the first man had fallen from an arrow through the eye another arrow was notched.

Swiftly the ambush was reduced to what could only be described as target practice for the ancient Mesopotamian hero, who gladly removed the fools inhabiting this unkept garden. As the last man choked on his own blood, Gilgamesh rode forth, uncaring that behind him the Troll jumped down. He rang a bell and five headless soldiers appeared behind him. The golden armoured demigod knew not what they were, but these decapitated ghosts were exemplar in how easily they felled his more common enemies.

"Just my luck" he grumbled as coming up to Stormveil plateau, the sky had decided that he had enjoyed the Lands Between too much lately and sought to drench him in rain. Luckily for him, there was a shack nearby, a rotten establishment, unfit for a king, but he would make do with any shelter from the rain that increased from small drops to being a full-on shower.

The shack he had chosen also had company, how marvellous.

Resting against a barrel sideways lied a girl, clad in white outfit with a red hood, messy straw blonde bangs hanging out of the hood. Her posture spoke of misery and Gilgamesh had no intention of wasting his time on a despondent wench. There was the Temple of Ishtar for that. Alas Ishtar was not here and with that this choice was gone as was his opportunity to slay the heavenly harlot.

"Everyone's...been grafted. Everyone who came with crossed the sea for me. They fought, for me." She stifled a cry and twisted her arms around herself, desperatedly trying to forget the fate of her companions. It seemed that she was one of the tarnished who had arrived in these accursed lands only to suffer grievously as the wicked god abandoned them

Seeing Gilgamesh, she turned her head, and the golden hero was overcome with shock as if he had seen a phantom. It couldn't be his Arturia?! He blinked and the phantom was gone. This girl was still beautiful by nobility's standards, but she was no King of Knights, not at all. She lacked that fire, that stubbornness and more aristocratic features that had charmed him then.

This uncanny copycat of Saber laughed without joy, her tears freely flowing, mixing with the few drops of rain that leaked through the holes in the roof "Heh... Only to have their arms taken. Their legs taken. Even their heads...taken. Taken and stuck to the spider."

"I take it that there are more scions in that castle." Gilgamesh spoke, but she seemed not to hear him

"Did you know? If you're grafted by the spider, you become a chrysalid." Her eyes had a far away look and it made him wonder how many had come before him "It's quite the lark, when you think about it."

"Pay attention, mongrel" the gold clad man snapped and that seemed to rouse this pale copy of Artoria to look at him.

First thing, she pushed herself against the wall in terror, then she visibly calmed and seeing his features, like most women- she blushed.

"You're all on your own, are you? And heading to Stormveil Castle?" the hooded girl asked and thought she was not her, the green eyes shone like emeralds. If having Saber was impossible, perhaps this woman would stave his hunger for a while.

Offering the noblewoman, a smile Gilgamesh nodded "I seek its ruler's head. This grafting is an afront to good sense and must be purged"

Her eyes widened and there was something he saw rarely- hope.

"Really? Are you intent on claiming his great rune?" he had some idea what it was, but to inform the wailing girl of his intent was something was not what the King of Uruk would do.

"Killing him would be enough for me" he reached out to her, ignoring how she recoiled from his tender touch as cold gold brushed the tears from her pale cheeks.

"In that case, would you mind taking this little one along with you? The poor thing deserves someone braver than myself" she held out her extended hand to him and in it lied an ashen effigy in a shape of a jellyfish.

"That I can do" Gilgamesh took the ashes from her hand, gauntlet lingering too much on her hand "Once it is done, I will come back for you, that I promise"

Humans were fickle and women exceedingly so. Rare it was for one to be steadfast and principled to live and die for her ideals and this one was prey if he ever saw one. Should he have this lesser noble to slake his thirst, then she had to survive until his triumphant return. The stone bell used to summon the ashen spirits rang in his head and that meant that his soldiers had finally dispelled.

Ringing, the headless ones appeared around them and the tarnished girl almost jumped at their sudden appearance.

"These are to guard you" Gilgamesh winked "I declare you to by my subject and the King shall tolerate no mongrel laying their hands on you."

"The King?" she blinked "Who are you sir knight?"

"Heed me woman" he rose to his feet and proclaimed, "I am Gilgamesh, the King of Uruk, The One Who Split Heaven and Earth and I tell you that Godrick the Grafted is an insult to the name 'golden'!"

"I-I am Roderika, King Gilgamesh" she rose up clumsily and attempted her best at an aristocratic bow, but it was evident that she had not had the practice in a long time. Yet it was somewhat endearing.

"It's a good name" the golden earrings jiggled in the wind as the blonde demigod nodded. Putting the spirit ring to his lips, the ancient hero whistled and the spectral steed appeared before him "However, as the rain clears I must depart for the castle"

"Goodspeed, your majesty" Roderika waved at him, wiping away the remnants of her tears as he rode out into the drizzling rain, blissfully unaware that she had become a possession. Yet was being a possession of such a man a bad thing?

When the gates of outer bastion were so lightly guarded it alarmed the Golden King, who was very well versed in tactics of both warfare and deception, though he had no need for the latter. A high possibility of chance of ambush most likely awaited him there and it meant that the moment he passed the gate and fought past the Godwoken, a superior force would crush him, as he was without resources. Chuckling to himself, Gilgamesh could only shake head at the arrogance of the Lord of Stormveil and pulling on Torrent's reins, he drew his sword and uncaringly rode towards the gate, laughing as a ballista aimed its bolt at him.

Through his dash through enemies, not a single arrow or bolt had struck his steed and as the horned beast crushed the artillery engine with his hooves, the Demigod drove the iron sword into the footman, enjoying as the crimson stained the dirty white tabard of the unlucky soldier. In front of him loomed a tunnel and once Torrent's hooves crossed that threshold, the spirit faded away, clearly unwilling to place his foot inside the castle. If Gilgamesh had any choice in the matter, he would do so as well. After all such disrepair and sheer ugliness that was permitted to happen such a grand castle was an utter waste, after all.

"As if my doubts needed to be validated" the demigod scoffed and beheaded the two Lordsworn rushing towards him, while the rest made no attempt to give chase. For them it made no sense to, their confidence almost undeserved.

"What gives you such arrogance, mongrels?" he asked the farthest soldier, who stepped back and together with his fellows the chants of "Fell Omen for thee" reverberated through the defensive lines. He could see their rotting teeth and wounds clearly. Perhaps he would cleanse these insane warriors from the surface of Limgrave, but there was a Shardbearer to be slain.

Walking through the torch lit stone corridor, Gilganesh realized that the actual castle gate were quite the distance ahead and a wide stretch of stone and bastions led to stairs flanked by ornate bastions, the top plated with gold. Of course, it all was ruined by time and decay as the plating had been lost in places and the crown like decorations- broken. All in all it was a sorry sight to someone like the Sumer hero.

Approaching the first arc of the battlements an old, wizened voice called out to the King of Heroes "Foul Tarnished, In search of the Elden Ring."

From the nearest tower before the main gate of Stormveil castle, motes of golden light coalesced into a tall figure in a tattered cloak, wielding a bent, gnarled staff of wood. His crimson eyes narrowed at this presumed guardian and in his void, Gilgamesh grasped a handle of a different weapon. His iron sword was momentarily forgotten and the depths came the haft of a great axe. Gilgamesh found it strangely balanced and raised it over his shoulder.

"Hrah!" the being uttered and leaped from the battlements, a great distance indeed and landed some three dozen feet from the golden demigod, sending a splash of mud, which the red eyed hero dodged, not wishing to stain his armour. Then he could see his adversary quite clearly.

"Someone must extinguish thy flame" his regal voice exclaimed, but his visage was far from that.

Gilgamesh noted that this creature was quite unsightly, not unsightly as to be erased from the world with Ea, the Blade of Rupture or Medorach, but something that the Sumerian King would never want to set his eyes upon except in extreme circumstances as it was now. Just look at him, dressed worse than a common vagabond, with tattered yellowish rags and a collar. The less said about his face the better. It was as his nose was a rotten prickly cucumber and his entire head and shoulders were overgrown with yellowing rotten horns, rising from dishevelled gray hair.

"Let it be Margit the Fell" the beast spoke and raised his staff as a sabre.

However, the King of Heroes could only laugh.

"Tarnished?" he shook his head and narrowed his eyes "Have you looked in the mirror creature? Or did the Godrick the Grafted just gave the guard dogs post to a first vagabond that asked for employment. Step aside and I shall grant you a merciful death for staining my eyes with your visage!"

"Have at thee!" Margit roared and threw two golden knives in Gilgamesh's direction, which the blonde dodged and then dodged an overhead swing of the beasts gnarled wooden staff. However, almost faster than eye could see a barbed tail not too different from a scorpion, but with a claw on the end, swished past Gilgamesh's plate. The battlefield itself was a rhythm and the ancient hero could whole heartedly admit that he may have misjudged Margit, who exhibited signs of a true warrior, his moves being far more gracious than those of the Tree Sentinel and the Bloodhound mongrel. His spacing was also proper, which meant that it would be difficult to get in range and properly execute an attack, whilst avoiding the blows of his horned enemy. Perhaps he would fall to the mental game on the battlefield…

"Argh!" the monster cried out in pain as during one of his pirouette swings Gilgamesh managed to wound his side by grazing it with a sideways swing. Then through a slight misstep, the Heroes slipped in the mud and was knocked down by the swing of the tail.

"Rolling in the mud like a swine, golden fool?" Margit offered his own taunt as he sought to impale the red eyed warrior on his staff.

"I'm only showing you mercy by giving you an easier chance to fight me" the sneer was thrown back with little poison behind it as the slayer of the Bull of Heaven caught onto the staff, just as the aged being pulled it up. Somersaulting, the ruler of Uruk regained the distance between himself and the guardian of the castle.

"Well, thou art of passing skill. Warrior blood must truly run in thy veins" panting slightly, the tattered warrior admitted, and Gilgamesh used this brief moment of pause to pull forth two golden swords from the void that he dubbed his fake treasury.

"My previous judgement was too hasty" he raised his sword "yet it will not delay your death"

A low chuckle escaped the gray haired man's lips "So be it, stranger"

Then instead of manifesting a golden throwing knife, Margit summoned an enormous hammer of stone made of gold light and jumped at him. Narrowly, Gilgamesh managed to avoid the crater and then had to avoid the slow deliberately waiting attack of the staff, while already knives were flying at his heart. In the enemy's attacks the ancient king saw a pattern that was repeating itself, he saw that certain moves were repeated again and again, and the Fell possessed movement tics that gave up his strategy in further combat, giving away gaps in his defence for almost nothing. Jumping over a low slash aimed at his ankles, the King of Heroes stabbed both of his blades in the horned one's back. With a bestial roar of pain, he fell to his knees as Gilgamesh had hung on his blades that slowly were carving the other warrior open.

Bucking underneath the pressure and blades twisting, the monster fell to his knees, and it was enough for now.

Gracefully releasing himself and retracting his blades, the sumer hero loudly proclaimed to his kneeling opponent.

"Remember my name mongrel!" the blonde demigod roared "I am Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes, The Vedge of heavens and-" Margit stabbed at him with a sword made of golden light.

"Mongrel, it is cowardly to attack your opponent as he is speaking" the King shook his head as the sword in his right hand had separated the foe's left wrist from his arm. With wild roar and abandon, the disarmed warrior unleashed a barrage of strikes against Gilgamesh who now could easily parry all his strikes and punished them so, every time Margit was parried, a sword would be driven in his flesh. Unlike the horned body parts, his chest and stomach were quite easy to pierce, and the blonde had to avoid striking so often as he would risk disembowelling his opponent, whose strikes grew wearier and wearier. So far, he had stabbed five swords and four daggers into the Fell Omen as the soldiers had called him. He only had left his axe and gazing in Margit's eyes he offered his opponent a nod. He was the first enemy in the Lands Between who had managed to hit him. It was admirable and he hoped that there would be more who would challenge him. Fighting and winning effortlessly had been the chief causes of his boredom- before Enkindu.

"You fought well, but it is time for you to die, mongrel" Gilgamesh spoke his judgement and with his axe landed a mighty blow in the horned fighter's neck. Blood spray every where and despite drowning in his own blood, the warrior was rather talkative.

"I shall remember thee, Gilgamesh. Smouldering with thy meagre flame." He spat, but half of that was hidden underneath gurgling of blood "Cower in Fear. Of the Night. The hands of the Fell Omen shall brook thee no quarter."

This threat would have been more imposing to Gilgamesh if his dying foe had not barely managed to squeeze the words out before perishing on the battlefield. However, unlike his previous victims, the body of Margit the Fell vanished in a shower of golden sparks, leaving behind only a small pouch, which the ancient hero had no use for.

Thus, he had felled the Fell Omen and Castle Stormveil was due a reckoning. Perhaps he would make the fallen bastion, his own preliminary base of operations before venturing deeper in the Lands between, where more challenges and adventures awaited. He was most interested in Radahn and Malenia, the so-called strongest demigods. He longed to match blades with them and prove to the wretched being that had wrought him here that Gilgamesh alone reigned atop of the apex, peerless and dauntless!

Farther he spied the tell-tale sign of grace.

While the fight itself had not harmed him grievously, the Grace did soothe most wounds and as loathed he was to admit it- Gilgamesh enjoyed its warmth, like that of the sun when it had shone over Babylon.

"Forgive me. I've been...testing you. To see whether or not grace truly does guide you." Melina appeared out of the air and a guilty expression marred her face. It was nothing new and it was understandable, given the melee that he had won against a warrior of decent make. Had a normal man fought against him, surely it would take at least multiple attempts to learn Margit's tactics and defeat him "And... whether you are fit to face the challenge that entails. It seems my worries were unfounded."

The Golden King merely raised an eyebrow and shook his head "Your only mistake was doubting me, see to it that this situation does not repeat itself."

Melina nodded and her expression of guilt vanished "Torrent had your measure from the very start. Whereas I merely pretended" the copper haired maiden tried to bring humour to the situation, but it only made Gilgamesh more certain that the horse had a mind of its own and would not permit himself to be given to just any Tarnished. Not that Gilgamesh counted himself amongst them.

"I can take you to the Roundtable Hold..." she offered and meeting the King's raised, immaculate eyebrow, immediately elaborated "Gathering place of T-"

She immediately corrected herself and the blonde demigod hummed with approval "Champions, guided by Grace..."

"Why is such a place necessary to attend for myself?" the King of Heroes asked, for he had little use of gathering of weaklings, who undoubtedly were already used to their current positions and would seek to impose their will on Gilgamesh, which did not excite the demigod. Yet maybe there was a person of worth, who could make his experience in Lands Between more exciting. Ranni had vanished on him, hinting at her whereabouts being in Liurnia of the Lakes and telling him in uncertain words to seek her out should he accept her terms.

The terms the Lunar Princess offered were mostly adequate for a King, but his fellow demigod should have been aware that the King of Heroes would never be subservient to another. Her ambition was lofty, and her raw honesty was something he had prized since antiquity and he hoped- for her sake, that his first impression of her had been correct.

"There you could find more powerful armaments and tools, exchange knowledge with some of the most knowledgeable of Tarnished" Melina helpfully supplied and extended her hand to him as if waiting for him to take it.

He supposed that seeing this Roundtable once would not be troubling for him.

A.N:

Margit got his ass handed to him, hopefully it won't have any repercussions in the future…Question: how to handle the bloated boss hp bars in writing? Make them more slippery, deadly?

Thank you for all reviews and follows, here are the replies to the most recent reviews:

D'nnome: Blaidd may appreciate them, if nobody else does :D

Anonguy: I'd like if Gilgamesh was absolutely rubbish with magic as I really don't want to involve him with Sellen and all that bullshit, but we'll see.

Guest: Curing Radahn and entire Caelid would be too op, but it would be very cool. Problem is that no way the elixir, if it existed would be enough for everyone.

Testarossacain: If its clay, it aint gay, my man. Plus it's not like Gil will fall for Ranni just because she's blue and has four arms. It just so happens that Ranni has the character that could attract Gilgamesh and she is temporarily stuck in a doll's body. Before Black Knife Party, she was a giant redhead amazon (her body is taller than Malenia's *wink* *wink*).

Leave Review as they currently feed me as Recusants feed Rykard.

Next chapter we finish Limgrave part of the story, I even drew a map how everything should go.

Now I bid you all adieu.

-Spook