Double Dragon
After wrangling an apology to Scheherazade from Saber, Trent called the meeting to order.
"Right, so, first things first," the Master began, hands raised to gesture across the group. "We're going to be splitting into three units."
Pointing at the trio from Fuyuki, he outlined, "Saber, Emiya, Cu, you three are going to take the Handsome Braves and act as both a distraction and a battering ram. Your job will be to hammer the forces of the Dragon Witch and protect the people of the country from the wyverns. If you face any enemy Servants, your goal is the same as in any Grail War: immediate termination." He took a deep breath, and then added, "There's one Servant in particular for you all to watch out for. I can't confirm their identity due to a Noble Phantasm, but if they are who I suspect then they'll be a major thorn for you."
Gesturing towards Emiya and Saber, the blond continued, "They'll appear as a figure obscured by a roiling mass of black fog, with red light seeming to glow from their eyes. They're a Berserker, as well, and they'll likely beeline for Saber if they are who I suspect. As it stands, Cu would be the best to deal with them, simply due to the flexibility of his Runes. If they do appear, Emiya, you can't use any sort of ranged attack, or they'll steal it for their own use."
The three shared a look, and while the Archer and the Caster nodded in understanding, Saber looked contemplative. "You believe this one to be the sort not to die with empty hands?"
"Correct," Trent confirmed, agreeing with her appraisal of who the Servant might be.
The tyrant hummed, her eyes darting around the group before briefly resting on Mash. She grunted, "And you expect he will target me?"
"If they are who I suspect, then yes," Trent agreed with a nod.
"Very well," Saber muttered, her eyes closing. "If he is that person, I shall hear out his complaints."
There was a pause, as no one knew quite what to say to that declaration. People exchanged glances, and when it became clear everyone was waiting for something, Trent coughed into his fist.
"Moving on." The Master gestured to the Hassan in their midst, who was looming silently. "Assassin, I'm sorry to ask this of you, but you're going to be flying solo. Your priority will be to identify enemy Servants and assassinate them if possible."
Rather than complain or question the directive, the Assassin's head bobbed. "Of course, Lord Magus."
"While it would normally be imperative to strike at the Dragon Witch herself, there's a few conditions that need to be cleared before then, so focus on her supporters," Trent advised, reaching up to stroke his chin.
The Hassan of the Cursed Arm nodded again, silently agreeing to the order.
With a deep breath, Trent gestured to the rest of the group. "We will be focusing on gathering any Servants who have appeared in the Singularity, increasing our allies."
"Oh, so we're going to follow up on those rumours that we heard?" Marie inquired, a finger coming up to rest on her chin as her head tilted. "The strange, argumentative women who strike down wyverns, and the warrior who apparently fought off the Dragon Witch's forces by himself, only to get cursed?"
"Correct," Trent confirmed. "We need as much firepower as we can get our hands on."
As the group seemed to ready themselves, the Master added, "But before we start moving, there's one more thing that needs to be done. Scheherazade?"
Even as Trent turned to her, the Caster was already pulling a scroll out from some unseen nook on her body. Her head was bowed as she unfurled it, and the Forty Thieves spilled forth, chattering and greeting the world as they piled up around their summoner's legs.
Blinking at the storyteller's ability to foretell exactly what he wanted, the blond remarked, "Right, well, the final part of all this is the Forty Thieves here. Their job will be spreading out and gathering information to relay to us." There was no need for him to highlight just how important that was, and the others seemed to understand as they nodded. Gesturing towards the muppets, he finished, "Basically, if one of them approaches you? Listen."
There were looks of understanding from the Servants as they nodded, with the exception of Medb, who was deep in consideration. As Trent prepared to call the meeting to a close, the Queen of Connacht interjected, "I kept quiet earlier, but Master, just where do you get off giving command of my Handsome Braves to someone else?"
"Because it's necessary, Medb," Trent replied, swallowing his first instinct to groan at the combative stance the Rider was taking. "We need to split our forces, and it makes more sense for our decoy force to have them, due to the amount you've managed to pump out."
"So? They're mine," the pinkette argued, her eyes narrowing.
Trent was about to threaten to use a Command Seal, something he desperately didn't want to do, when Scheherazade leaned down and whispered in his ear. The Canuck's expression slackened slightly as he took a deep breath, and then nodded. "Thank you, Scheherazade."
Clearing his throat, he asked, "Medb, remember what good girls get?"
The Celtic Rider's eyebrows climbed up as she asked, "Is that a promise?"
"And…" Trent trailed off, his eyes closing. "Scheherazade has an addition she would be willing to add."
Medb let out a low whistle, "Alright, sure, let's do this then." Her gaze travelled to the Tyrant King of Knights, and declared, "And you, see that you don't disgrace my army, or I'll find a different use for your smart mouth."
Artoria's mouth twisted as she snorted. "I make a point not to eat diseased meat."
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After wrangling Medb, who had tried to make Saber eat her words (among other things), Trent had called for each group to head out, citing their need to finish things quickly. Hassan had seemingly flickered out of existence, while Saber turned away from the group, calling out in a stern voice that had all the Handsome Braves jumping to attention as she forced them into regiments.
With that seen to, the third group ambling towards the village that Marie and Mozart had said was currently host to a pair of Servants.
Humming as she looked into the sky, Medb started, "Master-"
"No, Medb, the original reason for not riding your carriage remains, on top of the fact that I don't want to put Marie Antoinette in your rape-wagon," Trent cut her off tiredly, feeling a lot older than he actually was.
"Baby," the pinkette scoffed, rolling her eyes as she shook her head. "But that's not what I wanted to talk about. I wanted to ask why you didn't bring in that charming Berserker? He would've been very useful in destroying our foes."
"Because he's nigh-uncontrollable, and the current team is far more flexible and likely to complete their tasks," the blond answered with a shrug. "I think he's also still kind of angry with me. I'm surprised you want him here."
"Oh, that's simple," she answered, even as Scheherazade let out a sigh from behind Trent. "I've been trying to outlast him pretty much since you summoned me, but every time I get him going he pulverizes my hips and lower spine."
There was a moment of silence. No one said anything. Even the distant cries of the wyverns seemed to die off.
Trent sighed, "So that's why none of the Chaldean staff have died to you…" Then his head jerked up and he squawked, "Wait, so that's why you keep taking catastrophic physical damage?!"
Medb had the gall to laugh as she replied, "You pay a cost sometimes, chasing the things that truly matter!"
Scheherazade blanched as she stepped away from Medb and moved to stand between Trent and Mash. The Shielder's brow was furrowed, her mouth moving as she tried to wrap her head around what Medb was implying.
Mozart hummed, the sound more musical than anything Trent had ever produced on an instrument, and took a moment to study Medb again. Marie leaned over to Jeanne and whispered, "Ah, pardon me, but is this…?"
"Yes, this is the norm for them, at least from what I've experienced," the Saint confirmed with a tired sigh.
Shaking his head in realization of how horrid the reputation his group was building, the Canadian Master sighed. And then his shoulders bunched up in grim horror as he whispered a pained question into reality.
"Did… did Herk ever pull any organs out?"
That statement impacted with the force of an earthquake, rocking everyone except Medb. Trent felt Scheherazade's hand clamp down on his shoulder, and as he peeked over his shoulder to look at her, she looked about ready to faint.
The Queen of Connacht just cackled.
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The village they had been heading towards was, surprisingly, still standing. Even more surprising was the fact that the group was still functioning after the assault that was the truth of just what Medb got up to in her spare time.
As they stepped into it, they found that the residents were all holed up inside their homes, staring out from the corners of their windows. The roads were dirt and gravel, with grass and weeds lining them, and all led to the centre of the village. And as they approached the village square, they could hear a strident voice.
"-nd I'm telling you! We need to deal with those rude lizards that keep coming by and interrupting my concert preparations!" shouted one of their targets, who earned more than a few judging looks as the group hit the square.
She was short and petite, with hair that was a vibrant pink, clad in a cute, almost idol-like dress. But that girly image clashed with the spear she had in her pink-clawed hand, its design intricate but sinister which was complimented by its pitch colour. Still, her most striking features were the curled horns pushing out from her hair and the sinuous, reptilian tail that was hanging from beneath her short skirt.
"My, but doesn't your shrill harping send them all plummeting as soon as you open your mouth?" asked the young woman standing opposite her, clad in colours that only highlighted how different the two were. And then her head tilted to the side, her gaze turning to look at the approaching group. "Perhaps you should start screeching now, as we've some uninvited guests."
The one who had just finished speaking was also on the petite side, but where her companion's clothing had a clear modern bent, this one was clad in a traditional, if skimpy, kimono. Seafoam green cloth, covered in an overcoat of white and gold, swathed her form, complimenting the light cyan of her hair. A pair of white horns crowned her head, and while her gold and ebony fan hid the lower half of her face, her amber eyes bored into the group.
Throwing his hands up, Trent quickly interjected, "Wait, wait, wait, we'd really appreciate it if you'd hear us out rather than going right into attack mode!"
"Oh, you'd claim such a thing while approaching us with a cavalcade of Servants?" the green-clad woman retorted, her fan snapping shut, but resting against her philtrum. "Indeed, most of them look like they've been pulled from your boudoir rather than any sort of battlefield." She blinked and her eyes widened as her cheeks flushed, and she hastily added, "And I, Kiyohime, have no desire to be taken as some token wench! If that is your intent then get hence!"
Trent's face twisted in pain at both assertions for differing reasons. Rather than focus on that, he grunted, "No. Heavens no. We're here to ask you and Eli over there for your help in resolving this Singularity!"
"And saving France," Marie added firmly, nodding with her arms crossed.
Trent was about to add the whole solving the Incineration of Human History onto the pile, but decided that he didn't want to encourage Kiyohime to tag along. "Which will lead to us saving France. I figure that the more allies the better, which is why we approached you two."
"Well, at least you have good taste," Eli declared, resting her spear against her shoulder. "Sort of. That snakelet is hardly a good audience." As she finished, she jerked her head toward her companion.
Kiyohime sniffed, "And yet that still puts me head and shoulders above your singing ability." Ignoring the Lancer's squawk of annoyance, she continued, "Now, if you wish to ally with us, it would only be polite that you introduce yourselves, given your apparent familiarity with us."
There was a quick round of introductions, which ended with the roar of approaching wyverns. With a deep sigh, Trent shook his head and called out, "Mozart, you're on deck to force them to the ground. Mash, Marie, you two are going to need to act as tanks to guard myself, Mozart, and Scheherazade. Eli, Medb, you two are our heavy hitters, so make use of every opening and don't play around. Scheherazade, your job will be to support everyone with your summons. Kiyohime…" he trailed off for a moment in thought. "I don't know how effective your flames will be against them, so do what you can to help support everyone."
"You doubt my ability to deal with this chaff?" the Berserker asked coldly, despite the blue flames licking off of her. "Then watch well, unknown Master, this burning dance of Kiyohime!"
