Sawtooth44: In fact, the Servants reincarnated in Fate: Dragoncrown are a very special case in fanfics. Which explains the specifics of their powers. On the one hand, they have bodies of flesh and blood and have been given a new birth, a childhood and so on, and on the other, they keep some of their Servant powers. Why? Because they are not the reincarnations of historical characters... but rather the reincarnations of the Servants of the Holy Grail War. Now there are two scenarios, reincarnated Servants who have a physical Noble Phantasm (a weapon like Saber or Lancer) and those who have power (like Archer and his UBW or Berserker and his "Hand of God"). In the first case, they only recover their Servant abilities after having found their Noble Phantasm... in the second; they have their Servant abilities at birth... I tell you how happy Berserker's mother was!
The Heat Snake
The year 3E 419 had just begun.
In the cold of winter now well settled in the kingdom of Ménévie, the siege of Refuge was in its eighth month. The remnants of King Eadwyre's army strengthened by the militia rose among the inhabitants and refugees would have been defeated long ago if the Empire had not sent a Legion under the command of General Aldmer Valendil Ceberhas.
His tactician qualities had dazzled his allies... as his enemies.
In the last weeks of 418, Orc Chief Agraggush had launched a new assault on the gates with rams. General Ceberhas had to fight back by lassifying the ram's heads. After hoisting them up to the ramparts, he let them fall back, breaking the machines into a thousand pieces.
Having a large army recruited from among the orcs - all of whom were miners- Agraggush did not let himself be discouraged and undertook to undermine the wall by means of a tunnel. Except that General Ceberhas had water cups placed all around the ramparts. The blows of the pickaxe under the earth gave birth to circles in the liquid. As soon as abnormal activity was detected, the imperial general launched a counter-attack. Where other officers were satisfied with an attack by the miners, Valendil Ceberhas called on the city's alchemists. They concocted a sulfur-based poison which the general spread in the opposing mine. The gas, heavier than air, spread into the mine and caused a hecatomb.
Not discouraged in spite of the losses, Agraggush then embarked on the construction of a siege terrace, a ramp intended to reach the height of the ramparts. At first, General Ceberhas had a tunnel dug and by night removed the soil under the ramp. However, the orcs were working faster than the imperial-Bretonic garrison was able to sabotage the terrace, and the terrace rose inexorably.
Changing his method, Valendil Ceberhas had the exterior wall raised by a wooden structure, while around the threatened point; the interior wall of Wayrest was reinforced by an additional brick floor!
Disgusted, Agraggush abandoned the idea of launching a direct attack on the walls. The blockade of the capital of the kingdom of Menevia had been complete for a long time. It was enough to wait until the defenders were weakened by hunger. The famine would have done enough damage within a few months for the stronghold to fall without a blow.
But King Gotwog was increasingly worried about rumors of a rescue expedition. Of course, he had sent an army to stop it. Nevertheless, we had to finish it here as soon as possible.
The time had come to use his secret weapon.
On a rampart of the city, facing the sea, a group of high-ranking officers of the Legion accompanied by High-Rock nobles watched with concern the reinforcements received by the fleet that was blocking the port.
The tallest of the officer, with its golden skin, yellow amber eyes and blond hair, was an Aldmer with pointed ears. The High Elf wore a beautiful leather armor covered with a red bronze decoration representing the dragon of Talos, emblem of the sovereign Dragonborn, the emperor of Tamriel.
The Elf General had unfolded his spyglass to steer it offshore.
Around him, everyone kept silent. No word could change what we saw. From the top of the chain tower, the bay of Illiaque spread out to the horizon, an expanse of cerulean blue, a splendor that exceeded the many fleets that blocked the port.
The blockade had become an ordinary spectacle in the last six months. Of this kind of ordinary which is the daily life tense on a single thread. But yet something had changed and the scene had become more threatening than it had ever been. By night, the number of ships had almost doubled.
However, one detail made Valendil Ceberhas tender. When his neighbor saw him flinching, his smile was off, his silver eyes reflected a mocking irony:
- Did you see something, General?
The Aldmer had an annoyed pout recognizing Archer. In recent months, he had learned to respect the competence of the man... After all, he invoked destructive arrows and swept away enemy war machines at an incredible distance. Nevertheless, the mysterious Archer was more arrogant than an Aldmer. And the High Elves were a little bit the measuring standard of this "quality" all over the continent.
- You are asking the question, but knowing your incredible vision, you must have already understood what I saw.
Relying on the battlements with affected nonchalance, Archer crossed his arms. With his eyes closed, he nodded:
- Of course, the bow of the galleass has a lighter structure than the pirate ships of Dragonstar. These are ships built in Cyrodiil, not Redguard warships. These are vessels taken in the hands of privateers of the Illiac Bay.
Valendil Ceberhas nodded:
- Yes, and I would swear that they show us these ships so that we understand that Marcus Manfredi's fleet has been destroyed.
Valendil struck the merlon close to a punch. The pain made him wince without soothing his anger. With his eyes on the sky, he absorbed himself in the contemplation of the clouds that stretched peacefully in the azure. To be honest, he wasn't exactly surprised. After more than two months without receiving carrier pigeons sent by his lieutenant, he had come to think that Admiral Manfredi had been defeated. Nevertheless, between a supposition and proof there remained the space of hope. After the joining of the Redguards corsairs of Dragonstar, the destruction of the imperial fleet... nothing would be spared them. The number of their enemies continued to increase, while the number of their allies decreased from day to day.
- We couldn't get lucky for once?!
It was not really a curse, but rather a plea. The fatigue weighed as much on Valendil as a garment too tight. Nevertheless, the urge to sleep disappeared when he turned to the grouped houses around the pier. Thousands of citizens of the Empire lived there with their wives and children. They needed him.
A running noise caused the staff to turn around. A young officer climbed the stairs at full speed. He looked for King Eadwyre and slanted towards him. Under the soot that stained his youthful face, the man was pale. His hair was turned into blackened stubble. The uniform was hardly better, burned in many places.
He threw himself on his knees:
- Your Majesty!
The old king of Menevia turned to the messenger his noble old man's face, beard, and snow-colored hair:
- Breathe, boy, your message can wait for you to catch your breath.
Nevertheless, the Breton officer did not listen. His eyes were hallucinated:
- A dragon, Your Majesty! The enemy has sent us a dragon!
The young messenger was completely panicking and Archer had trouble unraveling the explanations he gave him. The noble Breton stuttered, butting on the simplest words. At times, he repeated himself as if he wanted to exorcise the visions of nightmares he described.
A kind of big snake had left the enemy trenches and headed for the walls. "A snake," asked Archer; "Yes, a reptilian creature with large arms at the front of the body." "No wings?" "No, it crawls like a snake, waving." "What weapons does it have?" "Acid, the dragon spits acid!"
Riding beside Archer, Valendil listened to the interrogation. He nodded and intervened:
- It is not a dragon, but a linnorm.
Surprised by the unknown word, Archer turned around:
- A what is it?
The eyes of the Elf sparkled:
- A heat snake. This northern cousin of dragons does not fly and does not have their intelligence. There are different species. They are recognized by their habitats and their breaths. The marine linnorm haunts the Phantom Sea and breaks ships with the force of its coils. It can spit bubbling water. The ice linnorm lives on the ice pack and has no breath. On the other hand, it has the power to create cold and model ice like clay. The linnorm of the hills is the only one with four legs. It has no breath either, but he is cunning and knows how to ambush. Our "friend" is a linnorm of fire; it spits acid but is neither the greatest nor the smartest of its brothers.
The Aldmer turned to King Eadwyre:
- Your Majesty, fetch your magus! I will gather my soldiers.
The monarch hesitated only for a moment:
- Understood.
They split up. While the Imperial General was galloping towards the barracks where the reserve troops were waiting, the King of Menevia was heading for the Guild of the Magi of Wayrest. As for Archer... he jumped on the ridge of a house and ran from roof to roof, faster than a horse.
Climbing the stairs of the watchtower, Archer was greeted by anxious soldiers. The officer took his arm, to take him to the battlements. Goblin formations were beginning to emerge from the trenches, in front of them, a serpentine monstrosity was advancing.
Archer felt an icy chill running through his spine. The heat snake was a hideous creature. The body was sinuous, obese, of a dirty gray crossed by large unhealthy veins. In places, mould and seaweed hung on to its scales. The head resembled a horse in its shape. There was even some kind of filthy hair mane.
The monster had already passed the boulevards devastated by the artillery of the orcs. On the ramparts, archers and crossbowmen began to shot. Powerless, their strokes clicked on the scales of the linnorm, harder than steel. Someone screamed to have the trebuchets pulled. Alas, it was already too late…
The heat snake was already standing too close to the outer wall. With a ripple, it straightened, suddenly dominating the walkway. The soldiers had stopped, petrified by horror. Archer bowled to the parapet. At full lung, he ordered the defenders to take cover and move away from any openings. This is enough for some to get out of their deadly trances. For the most part, the warning came too late.
There was a tremendous rumble when the monster opened its jaws. A cloud of green smoke gushed out of its nasals. Suddenly, the linnorm spewed out a bubble of glaucous, bubbling liquid.
The corrosive blood cell burst into contact with the hoardings laid as reinforcements of the walkway. A multitude of splashes spilled on the roof. Where they fell, the banners ignited in an instant. Tiles and beams were drilled with a multitude of smoldering abscesses. At the point of impact, the roof broke. Below, showered with acid, the men screamed. A drop of the fluid was enough to cross them back and forth and kill them in an instant.
Stripped of the flesh and the planks, the rock of the walls crackled. The abominable fluid flowed down the walls, leaving deep burned marks.
What the most powerful war machines would have taken days to accomplish, the Linnorm did in a matter of minutes. A whole section of the walls was crushed. The stone resisted. However, the long venom serpentines infiltrated the mortar to disintegrate it. Rock quarters broke loose to open up the battlements.
A silhouette suddenly interposed. A form wrapped in a long red silk dress. In the darkness of the hood, one could see the bearded face of an old mage. Insignificant in comparison to his enemy, the spellcaster held a long stick. The piece of black wood and ivory was engraved with metal runes.
The Linnorm came closer, thinking he could shoot its opponent without difficulty. But the mage was not deprived of defense. The bubbling globule appeared to hit a wall of air that was brutally solidified. The force field waved, releasing the venom that dug a trench into the ground.
The event exceeded the limited intelligence of the heat snake. Stunned, it waved on the spot by sniffing loudly. Without giving it time to recover, the mage pointed at the monster his heavy staff of power. The runes burned and the air became electrified. An electrical arc formed to unite the Breton and his victim.
The flash dazzled Archer. With his hands pressed on his face, he staggered when a howl of pain shook the citadel. Thrown to the ground, the reincarnated Servant heard a formidable shattered rock crash shake the wall.
The concussion left him stunned for a moment. Yet fear acted as a stimulant. Leaning on the wooden balcony, Archer looked down at the exterior wall. A large portion of the perimeter had collapsed. It was the linnorm that destroyed it in its fall. The monster was wounded. Only, it needed a lot more to overcome it. It was already standing, carrying its hands to its chest.
In spite of the darkness and the colored flies that still troubled his sight. Archer saw the charred scales and the smoke rising from the bruise. The monster groaned and turned its head to the left. An inanimate form lay in the middle of the rubble. Its red robe was that of the mage.
Something had to be done. Despite his precarious balance, Alaya's former dog turned to the other occupants of the observation tower. Most of the officers were still on the ground only a more robust soldier stood slowly. Archer summoned his bow and a translucent prana arrow.
However, the hero had not been fast enough. A howl of pure terror made him turn. Head turned upside down; the linnorm finished swallowing a Breton soldier. Only the legs still protruded from his jaws.
As cold anger hammered his temples, Archer held out his powerful black bow. What then happened could not be followed by any human eye. He would summon arrows and shoot them at an incredible speed. The projectiles spun like machine-gun bullets and exploded on contact with the heat snake.
A house would have been razed to the foundations. However...
The creature simply turned its long neck in search of the one who had just attacked it. It had not received a scratch.
Motionless in this position, the heat snake offered itself in profile. Archer held out his hand by concentrating:
- Steel is my body.
A strange sword materialized. As dark as night, it had a plaited appearance, with holes in the center of the blade. When Archer laid it on his bow and stretched the rope... the strange weapon lengthened out to turn into a kind of arrow with a quirky appearance. It lit itself with a bloody glow.
- Hrunting!
This new projectile spun with a force far exceeding the previous ones, changed into a magic bullet of red light. There was a powerful explosion that blew a ball of fire and smoke to the sky.
Crying with pain, the monster shook its head and straightened itself. Its large split plums focused on the belfry, identifying the origin of the shot.
As the linnorm advanced towards the observation tower, a panic movement seized soldiers and officers. Without listening to the reassuring words of Archer, they rushed to the stairs.
Irritated by the resistance of the monster who refused to die, the former Servant adjusted the monstrous snake to send him a new traced copy of the sword of Beowulf, altered in an arrow. As usual, the trajectory was perfect, hitting the monster in the mouth as it opened its mouth to spit.
The explosion, contained by the body of the beast, was less violent than the first... at least for those who witnessed it outside. A mocking smile appeared on the lips of the former Servant who watched the monster collapse, wrapped in smoke, waving its head and twisting... Unfortunately, Archer continued to underestimate the giant snake. It was not the contortions of agony, just the effect of pain and anger.
Before he could notch another arrow, the linnorm straightened to its full size. It was not tall enough to reach the hoardings of the inner walls. However, its head was swinging almost one floor lower.
As Rin's former Servant looked at it, the monster took a gigantic inspiration. The hero let go of his bow before running away. An instant later, the wooden balcony was shaken by a shock that made it fall.
Crawling on the elbows, Archer did not linger to observe the damage caused by the venom. The acrid smell of this infernal vitriol grabs him at the throat. Joists gnawed to the heart were broken in a great cracking. Thick boards broke like matches, and pieces of the roof came loose to bomb the reincarnated Servant.
However, as quickly as the cataclysm had spread, the calm returned. There was only the noise of the last tiles to hit the ground. Spreading out the arms he had raised to protect himself, Archer finally turned around. Within a few paces remained only a large shredded hole and planks reduced to the state of blackened chicory.
The reincarnated Servant became tense with anger. Leaning over the balcony, he looked for the monster of the eyes. The Linnorm had turned back, disdainfully.
Through the breach that the snake had practiced, a crowd of goblins was now pouring into the square. Decimated by the creature, the garrison was torn to pieces. Archer hesitated for a moment. Was he supposed to help the soldiers in their counter-offensive or deal with the linnorm?
The monster was much more dangerous. It was he who had to be eliminated first. Straightened, Archer invoked a new bow. Avoiding the hole created by the blast of the heat snake, the former Servant gained a position close to that which he occupied a few moments earlier. From there, he could see the linnorm. The monster turned its back, busy waving towards the east gate. With all the strength of his lungs, Archer insulted the monster to get his attention.
It is impossible to know if the linnorm understood. However, the dragon's cousin stood on its tail, its head turned towards the one who called. Archer was waiting for this. Two hundred meters away, the eyeball made a tiny target. Moreover, with the battle taking place all around him, Archer could no longer use an arrow that could massacre his allies. He was going to have to be precise.
A smile played on Archer's lips.
Since childhood, he had only missed his target once... and it was intentional.
His shot nevertheless described a perfect trajectory. Sent with an unthinkable force, the arrow sank deeply. Only the tail came out of the eye that the arrow had just burst.
The reptile's cry of pain resounds even more strongly than the first time. The former Servant had hoped that the iron would reach the monster's brain. Unfortunately, the linnorm had a resistance that honored its draconian origins. Filled with vengeful fury, it began to crawl quickly toward the tower.
Leaning to the balcony, Archer placed a new arrow on his bow. The shot was proving harder at this angle. Emptying his lung, the hero imagined his projectile that pierced his enemy's brain. When the image was clear enough, he released the rope.
The blood spurts out of the broken pupil. Again, the heat snake twisted with pain.
Became blind, he seemed to sink into madness. From tail and claws, it struck the wall and went straight ahead. To the misfortune of the goblins, they were in his path. The linnorm made carnage. Then, hitting the outer wall, he unleashed itself against it. The fortifications collapsed like a house of cards and the monster rushed to the Orc camp.
Emptied of all force, Archer sat on a heap of debris. However, the hero did not stay long alone. A handful of imperial archers came to join him. Valendil Cerberhas led them. Seeing the hero so exhausted, he smiled:
- A new achievement on your part, Archer.
With his legs crossed, his arms on the "backrest" of his throne of rubble, Archer had a sarcastic smile:
- I think I will be able to make new snakeskin shoes... when this monster is tired enough to slaughter orcs..
The evening fell on the castle of the king of Menevia. Closed windows kept the warm given by the burning fire in the fireplace. Nevertheless, the mullioned windows allowed the light of the winter setting sun on the sea to pass. Tired of watching King Eadwyre fix the pieces of the chessboard that separated them, Valendil rose to watch the waves transformed into mercury by the bloody star.
- It is your turn.
Without turning around, the Elf shook. A fairytale of roofs descended to the sea. In the setting fire that lit the horizon, they seemed made of pure gold.
- What did you play, Your Majesty?
- Bishop from E4 to C6. Check.
- King from E8 to F7.
- Do you play by visualization?
-I have an excellent memory.
There was silence. The king began to think again.
- What are you thinking, General Ceberhas?
- I am looking for a solution to win this battle, Your Majesty.
Behind him, the Aldmer heard the sound of a chair being pulled, then of the wine being poured. The silence then established itself, the time that Eadwyre drank a sip and then put down his cup.
- Rook from H4 to F4. Check.
- Thank you for the tower, Your Majesty. I take it thanks to the knight in G2.
The old king muttered a low-voice swearing. Valendil heard a thud. He imagined that the king had come to the table to better watch the game.
- You know, Your Majesty, you have no reason to complain about the day result.
- Pardon me? We have two breaches in the first wall and major damage to the inner one. I don't call this a brilliant result, General!
The surprise of the monarch made the elf smile:
- Yes, you are not wrong, Your Majesty. Nevertheless, the damage that the linnorm has caused us is much less than the damage it has inflicted on the orcs as it passes through their camp. There is a saying, "You must never attack an enemy until they are ready to be defeated." The orcs used their monster too soon before we were weak enough. It was a fault they paid dearly.
- Pawn from B6 to B7.
- Knight from F4 to D3. If the war we are fighting was a game of failure. I'd say we just lost a major piece with Marcus Manfredi's fleet and a minor piece- the breach in our walls- with today's confrontation. However, during the siege, we were able to get our troops into a better position. In chess as in life, it is not the number of pieces left on the chessboard that wins. It is the ability to put the mat and thus to occupy the strategic squares.
Taking advantage of the silence that followed this exit, Eadwyre announced his new movement. The king moved his rook from C1 to C3. The Aldmer seized the danger that threatened his knight in D3 and moved it towards E1.
- Your Majesty, what I fear most is that we will be blocked in Wayrest by the enemy fleet, blocked to the Pat!
- We could benefit from unexpected help. Pawn from B7 to B8. Pawn becomes a lady. As you just said, it's all a matter of position. Nine months ago, an insignificant teenager lived in this country. She saved this city several times at the beginning of the siege... before you arrived, General Ceberhas, before Archer even came here.
Valendil acquiesced. The king had told him about the arrival of this young girl... Artoria Pendragon. She had left the city to search for a magic sword, a quest given to her by Lady Mara herself. The siege prevented any communication from reaching them. Even the mage's spells of Clairvoyance and Clairaudience were blurred by the Orc shamans. It is impossible to know whether the teenager who carried all the hopes of the besieged was already on her way to deliver them... or dead.
- I believe that the gods protect and guide us, Your Majesty. But will she remain alive long enough to save us? Have you forgotten my bishop in H2? It's taking your young queen.
- Do you think Angra Mainyu will try to stop her? My bishop in A7 is taking your bishop in B8.
- If this god of darkness exists and if the destiny of Lady Pendragon is to defeat him, it is obvious that he will do everything to get rid of her before she acquires the strength necessary for her mission, Your Majesty.
There was a moment of silence that the general interrupted by returning to the chessboard, taking a piece in his fingers, he considered it for a moment with a thoughtful air, before repositioning it on another square:
- Knight movement from B 4 to D 3. Checkmate! Your Majesty, remember that a strategist does not seek a path to victory, he explores all paths. Believing in the gods is good. But I prefer to pray for divine help by organizing my troops as if they were alone in front of the enemy.
In any case, Ceberhas had only to last until the summer... because an imperial army was gathering in Skyrim. As soon as the passes were released from the snow, the Legion would lift the siege.