Chapter Three: An Impassable Obstacle

Kariya looked at the suit he was holding and then back to the knight in front of him. It was a couple of days after their escape from the Matou house and they needed to be out and about. Staying in spirit form was an option, but Marrok noted that was not always a safe thing. Something fast enough could in fact strike before Marrok could materialize, especially with Kariya's lack of proper training with his mana. There was also the matter of the strain the Berserker could put on his body and too sudden a strong draw might make Kariya slow to react to events. According to Marrok, having his servant active would not only help him get used to the proper flow of mana, but keep him in a frame of mind that combat could happen. Kariya was pretty sure he could just keep himself alert; but he couldn't deny it was easier with the knight hovering nearby reminding him just by existing.

"Okay. How do we even change your clothes? You turn into a wolf without them on right? And you said you think the madness enhancement will affect you in that form."

"It's easy enough. I just have to go in pieces. The important part is to maximize coverage. Thankfully I can dismiss my armor and don't have to physically remove it. That would make the process far, far less smooth."

"Alright, take the leas on this then."

Marrok put his helmet back on, "I'd go with the hat but I am unsure how much sking I can get away with. First thing I will do is small things that ther clothes can slip over. Gloves and socks. You grabbd the long socks right?"

"Yeah, the longest that weren't ladies' stockings."

"Good."

Carefully, one at a time Marrok replaced each gauntlet and boot with gloves and socks. Kariya noted the barest minimum twitch in mana load. Small enough to be imagining it in the anticipation of one. He also noted that Marrok's skin wasn't always very hairy like the hole in his armor had shown. The effect of the change was normally gradual. Though he imagined suddenly chucking off large garments would be faster. It was an assumption that would be proven later.

"So, did you not have this problem in life?"

"No, it is specific to the berserker class due to the madness enhancement. Thank you for that by the way."

"S-sorry."

"I am joking. I don't hold it against you. You were backed into a corner. Anyway. Now is the experimental part. I am not sure which would be better to go with first. The shirt for being easier to put on while not sane, or the pants for less combat enhancement in case I rampage."

"You don't know?"

"This is the first time I have been summoned into a Grail War, and this is not my highest affinity class. I apologize. The Grail provides knowledge of changes to our abilities, but not how to change clothes."

"Well maybe if you go with the pants you can put your feet in before lowering the armor."

Marrok suddenly had an idea, and slapped his head as punishment for not thinking of it sooner, "Of course, Master! What was I thinking? The mention of putting the clothes over a part of my legs made it occur to me that leg armor is not one set of pants. I was thinking of them as pants when they are not. They are many separate pieces I can dispel as I pull the pants up."

"Right. Now that I look at them, those aren't pants. What were we thinking?"

"This is quite fortunate. The thighs are a large area but smaller than the entire upper body. It will give us an idea of the scale of the effect."

"Yeah. Plus now that we are thinking properly, the shirt is a button up. You can dispel only an arm and get one arm in at least."

"That would shrink the area, good thinking. And though I cannot get both arms in like that, I can put my other arm in another shirt as a sort of patch."

"Hey, if something goes wrong, would throwing the coat on your shoulders count as wearing clothes?"

"It should. Worth trying in a pinch at least."

Marrok started changing pants. Something was immediately clear. Though it helped, the pants and underwear being in the transition of being put on did not fully count as wearing clothes. It was good they had not dropped all the leg armor at once. That became clear when Marrok exposed his thighs. The increase in drain was not large but very undeniably there and Marrok started losing some of his ability for fine manipulation.

"Not fun. Shirt will suck a bit." the servant spoke in a breif, slightly harsh tone.

"I'm so sorry about this."

Marrok bit his lip and buttoned up, stopping the issues, "I said it was fine. It is good we didn't do the legs all at once. I would have still been in control, but I might have been a bit rude. Might have needed help with them. The shirt would be problematic without gloves."

"Is the sleeves thing going to be enough?"

Probably. Just in case I want you to use a certain benefit of my origin. One very lucky thing you have due to my nature is something I will trust you with knowing. Remember how I essentially have to be a knight due to my origin of nobility?"

"Yes."

"This makes me a very convenient servant for an honorable master because knights are loyal to their masters. Unless following an order would be dishonorable or result in dishonor I have to do it."

"That's... So basically I have unlimited command spells for telling you to do things?"

"Yes. So luckily you can use all your actual command spells for making me stronger."

"Wow."

"Helps make up for my lack of power from fame. Anyway, I bring this up because if you command me to retain my senses and reinforce that order if I slip I should be able to tough out any issues with the madness enhancement."

"Alright, then I order you to keep calm while changing your shirt."

"Yes, Master." Marrok twitched.

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothing. Just... I am a canine technically, though I chose to live as a man. That almost sounded like a challenge and I have the instinctive urge to show off for my master."

Before Kariya could tell him to be careful and not try to look tough, Marrok dispelled his upper armor (except for the helmet) all at once. It was then they got a real sense of the scale of the effect. Marrok's torso grew hairy quickly and he hunched, the gloves holding in any changes to his hands thankfully. However,

"I AM GOING TO MAKE THIS SHIRT MY BITCH! FUCK YOU SHIRT! YOU ARE GOING ON MY BODY AND I WILL WEAR YOU FOR MASTER AND HE WILL GIVE ME THE HEADPATS AND TELL ME I AM GOOD BOY!"

"Marrok! Calm down, Sakura is sleeping in the next room! The neighbors can probably hear you too!"

Marrok froze. Though he couldn't see his face, Kariya was reminded of a dog being scolded.

So he took a different approach, "It's alright, I'm not mad. Just put your shirt on."

Marrok started putting the shirt on.

"Good boy."

Marrok twitched and then suddenly hugged Kariya.

"Marrok calm down!Get your shirt on!"

It was then the worst thing that could have happened, happened.

"Uncle Kariya, what's going on?

Though both separated, it was actually Marrok that gained control of himself and disengaged first, "Nothing, liitle girl. Unc and I just practicing for something. Group of nobles come around and we do this stuff."

Kariya apparently had to lie for them, though Marrok was clearly trying to lie without lying. Impressive that he was managing to get as close as he was given his condition, "It's a play. A very weird play.

"Why are you talking like that? And why where you yelling weird things.

"It avent garde."

"He means avant garde. Which means weird for the sake of art."

"Not like it much but rich people like weird artsy thing." Marrok struggled with the buttons but managed to get the shirt fully on, "Do not worry, Sakura. We are not fighting or doing anything else that you might be thinking."

Sakura looked at each of them in turn, skeptically, "What's a bitch?"

And such was the tale of how Sakura first encountered the trope of boys' love and a naughty word. It took half and hour to get her back to sleep. Thankfully the neighbors either weren't around or decided to ignore it. There would be the very minor issue of one or two of the tenants looking at Kariya like he was a gay man with a weird kink, but that was later and of little consequence. The important stuff was yet to come, and thankfully they had learned something very vital before getting into a legitimately dangerous situation.

Now fully dressed, Marrok looked quite dapper. It was just a cheap department store suit from the next town over, but it was well selected. Dark slacks with some dressier looking work boots instead of dress shoes (apparently designed for management at work sites) that blended into the look well. The pair had gone for layers since temperature didn't affect the servant much. To that effect Marrok's upper body was clad in a simple dress shirt, tie, gloves, and vest with a long dress coat over it that was similar to a trench coat. He had also acquired a flat cap to replace his helmet, though that (and the simple but trendy sunglasses he also got) were not on because 'wearing them indoors is rude'.

Kariya sighed, "Remind me to be careful about calling you a good boy."

Marrok looked embarrassed and depressed, "Sorry. It seems the madness enhancement exaggerates my canine traits."

"I guess a newspaper or a spritz bottle would be more effective than a command seal."

Marrok glared, "I am upset at that, but more upset that the Grail didn't see fit to give me detailed information on mage families. Meanwhile it gave me knowledge of what those are. It seems the Grail has a sense of humor."

"Apparently. Anyway, that was a hefty drain on my mana, but nothing major. I imagine combat is going to be worse?"

"I will attempt to not need to use my beast form, but there is no telling. I am not getting the benefit of fame without the wolf form, but my skill is second to none among the Knights of the Round. Save perhaps Lancelot, Mordred, and Arthur. All of which are premium members of the saber class if they are able to be summoned."

"Thankfully you'd recognize them on sight, right?"

"Yes. Just in case I will give you a rundown of them in comparison to me. Even if they are not in the war you will have a scale of how I compared to legends in life."

"Alright, shoot." Kariya sat down.

"Lancelot and Arthur would be the strongest because they are the two most famous knights in history. Mordred has less fame, but far more than me. In life, I was a match for Lancelot but he would normally win. Arthur I never sparred with, but the king outclasses the rest of us so much it is silly. Mordred..." there was a slight growl in his voice at the name, "Mordred is the one that killed me in the Battle of Camlann when I tried to keep the traitor from reaching Arthur."

"Ouch. How close was the fight?"

"Mordred was physically stronger and faster than any of the knights, even Arthur by a narrow margin. Lacked disciple in technique however. I managed to bring her to the point of fatigue and injured her non-dominant arm. She was still able to kill Arthur though, because the King had been dispatching a hundred or so men while I was stopping Mordred.'

"Wow. Arthur was that strong? And you held back someone more powerful? Go-"

"Oh come on! You can complement me if you want, I will not hug you again!"

"Good job."

"Thank you. I do not fully deserve that though. I failed my king in the end. In many ways. Perhaps if I had not clung to my pride as a knight..."

Kariya waved those negative thoughts away, "You did what you could and you've done so much good here already. I'm sure I've pulled a fine card for the war. Though I have to ask, what if any of your fellow knights were summoned?"

"Are you asking if I would have trouble fighting them?"

"You are forced by your origin to be honorable."

Marrok nodded, "True. It won't be an issue in most cases though. Servants do not really die when they are killed in the war, and serving my master is higher on the list for being a knight than allying with my fellow Knights of the Round. Even if it were my closest friends among them, Lancelot and Galahad. It would be favorable to team up with them until the finals however."

"Not an issue in most cases?"

"In addition to bemoaning your draw if I need an anti-army Noble Phantasm; you will do so if my King is summoned."

"You'll side with King Arthur over me?"

"No, it is just that I will not be able to betray my king. I cannot raise a sword against King Arthur."

"Even with a command spell?"

Marrok walked the few steps between them and lifted Kariya to his feet, looking him straight in the eye with sternness, "Let me be clear, Master. I will fight with you as far as I can and I will never betray you. However, forcing me to hurt my king is something I cannot forgive. Friend, master, or neither, Arthur..."

Marrok flinched, clearly trying to keep his senses.

"Marrok? Calm down. I get it. I trust you. I won't make you betray your king."

The knight let his master go and backed off, "I apologize. I did not mean to act in such a way. Arthur is a sensitive issue. I must never fail my king again."

"Understood, but that seemed like the madness was creeping in."

Marrok noted that and pondered aloud, "That... is a bad sign. If I ever get prompted to anger by something dishonorable enough. If we meet your rival and his reasons are deplorable..."

"You'll be a berserker."

"Indeed. That aside, let us do a patrol for-"

it was that moment a flare of mana, so large and grandiose that it was impossible to ignore anywhere in the city, surged through the air. It was a servant, Marrok cold tell right away and Kariya could assume that something like that was Grail War related.

Marrok shifted to spirit form and made for the roof, "That's a servant, or perhaps a master. Stay inside while I scout it out."

Kariya nodded, "Right. I'll check on Sakura."

In less than a moment, Marrok was on the roof and in the skies over the shipyard there was a huge symbol of magical energy, only visible to beings of magic. It was undoubtably a challenge. Marrok felt compelled to answer. Down he went, catching Kariya's eye through the alley facing window of their room and motined for him to come outside. He did so.

"Master, it's a challenge. One of the masters must have confidence in his card and is aiming to make this a battle royale."

"Can we win one of those?"

"Maybe. Either way, we cannot pass up this chance to learn information on the enemy. Also my origin requires I answer a challenge unless you tell me not to."

Kariya thought a moment, "Alright. Let's go. That's clear across town though. On the bright side we'll be latecomers to the brawl."

"Indeed. Lock all the windows and doors and come along."

"Right."

Things were well underway by the time Marrok had picked up Kariya and sprinted to the docks by the rooftops and back alleys. It was striking how fast and agile the knight was, though one could expect no less from a servant that was a wolf once called an old word for horse. When they reached the site, Marrok took on a very un-knightly crouching position as if to track, sniffing at the air and listening. Kariya presumed correctly that the wolf's senses were still keen in human form.

"There's at least three servants already here and there are several mages lurking in the shadows. You should do the same. I think two people here have guns."

"Guns?"

"Snipers probably. At least one of the masters is unconventional. Interesting."

"Right... what if I approach through the sewer? There's a manhole right there. I can use magic to look through your eyes and support you as much as I can under cover."

"Smart move."

"Not dishonorable?"

"Not in this situation. It is not honorable to walk into a foe's sword. That is just stupid."

"Right. I don't have much magic, butI can heal you at least. I may be a little slow from not being in sight of you."

"That will do. Get to it." Marrok headed towards the open ground at the center of the shipyard.

There was the sound of a clash of weapons and the smell of blood filled the air. Marrok's heart skipped a beat, and he took a second whiff before believing, "No... NO!"

Sprinting with the speed of a horse, Marrok came to the edge of the battlefield and stopped, taking in the sight before him. A very handsome man with two lances had a smug smile on his face. From the lay of the land it was clear he had outmaneuvered his opponent, but it seemed he was still countered. He was also pleased at the challenge. That foe, was a beautiful girl clad in blue and white, missing her armor for some reason. Her hair golden as a sunrise, her eyes a blue that made the sky itself cry in jealousy and despair that it cold not match it. Yes, eyes so beautiful that they were the origin of rain. The eyes of a 'king' standing with defiance of the wound to her arm. A wound that would make it very hard to fight with her normal style.

"ARTHUR!"

Saber whipped her view to the side, but kept Lancer in her line of sight. In his new clothes the king did not recognize her knight at first, and was stunned when the man dashed in front of her protectively.

Lancer was as offended as he was surprised, "Another servant waiting in the wings? Who are you to interfere in our duel?"

Something in Marrok's mannerisms as he held Saber back to shield her triggered her memory, "Marrok? Why are you here? You were summoned as well?"

Lancer smirked, "Oh. One of the king's knights from her life is it? That's who you are Saber, isn't it? You are the King of Knights. Such an honor to clash with you and get even a glancing blow. Maybe I'm better than I give myself credit for."

Marrok growled a little, "You dare look at my king with that grin and that charm spell on your face."

Saber grabbed his arm, "It's fine, Sir Marrok. This is a Grail War and we were having a duel."

Marrok's control started slipping, his voice was rough and very nearly ragged, "He dueled you before me! He got to you before me!"

"Marrok? What's wrong?" wheels started turning in her head at the sight of her companion so pained and frenzied, "Oh, Marrok... what class did they summon you into?"

It couldn't be berserker. Not Marrok. Saber refused to believe it. There was only the one time he had ever gone into any sort of frenzy. Surely that was all that was required, but every other time he was the furthest thing from the class. He was a loyal friend and companion before and after returning to a human form. Marrok was so gentle and kind with everyone and only drew a sword when ordered or required. He preferred his smile and a kind word of understanding.

Marrok whipped around and shouted at the white-haired woman accompanying Saber, "Heal your servant!"

Iris stepped back, startled, "I-I did! I'm sure I did! It isn't working!"

Marrok grabbed Saber's hands despite her protests, trying his own healing magic.

"Marrok, it's fine. He just outmaneuvered me."

"This is a cursed wound. It won't heal unless the curse is broken."

Lancer shrugged, "I don't like trickery, but it is as she said. She made an unfortunate mistake. Now, I will ask again. Who are you to interfere in our duel?"

Saber implored her bodyguard, "Marrok, it's fine. Are you the class I'm suspecting?"

Marrok started twitching, "My king, command me to stay calm, I can't... I can't stay calm unless you tell me to."

"Oh, Marrok, not you. Not berserker... I'm so sorry."

"Tell me... tell me to keep cool, but let me have him! I have to have him! I WILL EAT HIS BONES AND PISS THEM DOWN HIS THROAT!"

"Marrok, I order you to calm down! This is a duel between knights!"

Both noticed Lancer's master healing him. Marrok, "Let me have him... he's fresh now. It's fair. I have to... I beg you!"

Saber sighed, "You may challenge him and fight him if he accepts."

"Thank you." Marrok could not stop himself from kissing his king's hand before turning away, as if a dog licking his beloved master's hand. Irisviel was startled again by the sudden show of affection. A show she took as far more romantic than it had been intended.

Lancer was actually pleased when Marrok turned around and stepped forward calmly, "I see. A knight seeing his lord in danger. We have common ground. You need not even ask. I will relish a fight with a noble knight of Arthur nearly as much as one with the very King of Knights."

Beserker materialized his sword Cavall and then his armor, he was calm as commanded, but there was a seething edge to his voice, "My sword was made from a demon boar tusk as part of a quest to help a lady marry her love. A romantic blade that was to be a razor for a giant. Merlin's a tricky sort though and enchanted it to remove something when it cuts. Handy for a razor right?"

"Indeed."

"The problem is if you cut yourself shaving you lose your face." Berserker raised the weapon with one hand, "If you block this, and the blade cuts in, your weapon dies. I even nick a limb with this, yo lose it unless you are a powerful enough hero. This is my Noble Phantasm: Cavall, Fang of the King's Hound!"

"A fearsome grooming implement indeed."

"I tell you this not to be noble from knowing at least one of your Noble Phantasms. I do it out of spite. I will not hide my weapon from one who does so and wounds my king!"

Lancer smiled, "A truly zealous knight! Delightful. Come!"

Berserker charged first, but Lancer wasn't hesitant to join in the brawl he expected as his attacker bellowed a tribute to his slighted king. It delighted Lancer to fight such a man. He was eager to see the skills of such a zealous knight of such a skilled king. He'd lead with a thrust, mostly a feint but with intent to kill if he could land it. His second spear would come in and use the longer reach to slice at the sword hand. He'd have to make sure not to let the sword ct his lance as it was deflected.

A moment later, there was no clash of weapons. No intense exchange of blows. Lancer had impaled berserker. No, Berserker had practically thrown himself into it. It was in that moment that Lancer realized, as his foe grabbed his offending wrist and stabbed him in the chest in almost the same instant he had struck, that he had been fooled. The man fighting for his king paid no heed to the lance he was impaled on. His eyes were filled only with zealous duty, a furious vow to brutally kill the one that had shamed his king. They were like the eyes of the boar that had killed Lancer in life. A beast whose territory had been sullied. A beast who cared only to kill over that violation. It was ironic that he would fall here again to such a beast, wielding the tusk of a boar. It was almost poetic.

Blood sprayed from Lancer's mouth as the blade's enchantment completely obliterate his heart. Was Lancer not strong enough to resist the magic? Perhaps the composition of the weapon made him specifically weak to it? All the lancer Diarmund knew was that he was dead. Dead in an instant from such a mad attack. He glanced down, hoping to see that his blow had at least been fatal, but it... it was glowing. No blood was coming forth. As he stumbled back off his foe's blade that lance simply passed out of Berserker. It had done nothing.

"Y-you... you're all mana?"

Berserker looked down, honestly shocked there was no injury, "Is that what that one does? Unlucky you. This form is a magical construct. I am a shapeshifter."

"Ha!" Lancer coughed up blood, "You counter my lance completely. Next you'll tell me you're immune to curses."

"Yes. I actually am. Your luck attribute must be incredibly low."

"Indeed." Lancer fell to the ground, "Well played though, Sir knight. You repaid my trickery in kind. Well played indeed."

"Be thankful for your fate this night, fellow knight. I suffer the fate of being summoned in a war against my king. Death would be a sweet release from the thought.'

"Indeed. We are of common heart. I don't mind losing to a brother. Live this short second chance well, Sir Marrok."

"GOD DAMMIT, LANCER!" came a bellowing voice, "I CAN'T BE THE FIRST OUT! DON'T SHAME ME LIKE THIS, YOU BASTARD! LANCER!"

Lancer began to fade, "Grant me one request, friend. Spare my master this night, just this once, so that I might know that I at least saved my lord."

Marrok stared at his opponent coldly, "No. I will hunt down every enemy of my king and my master and slay them."

With that Diarmund faded away, full of only regret.

Marrok turned to the source of the voice and started that direction. Saber however, stepped forward, "Marrok wait! You were summoned into berserker class? By whom? What monster would do this to you?"

The knight turned, "My master was forced into it. I fixed his situation."

"Is that all you'll tell me? What's happened? Join me and we can take this Grail War in a night! Then we can settle this is a friendly duel."

"My king... I... have to kill the master of Lancer."

"Let him go for now. Talk to me, here and now."

Marrok jerked, "You know my nature and what a broken word is to me. You would have me cast against a vow I made?"

Saber started to apologize, but Marrok knelt in front of her, as one would a king.

"I will tell you anything that would not betray my master. If you would have us, and my master allows it, I will fight alongside you as I did in life."

Saber could only smile. Her companion Irisviel was perplexed though, and mildly enchanted at such gallantry, "Now that the battle is over he is awfully sane for a berserker."

Artoria turned to her fake master, "This is Sir Marrok, one of my bodyguards and retainers from life. If anyone could be summoned into this class and not fall to lunacy, it would be him. He is nobility in human form."

"Why is he crying?"

Saber turned to her knight, "Sir Marrok?"

"I'm sorry. I couldn't stop her. I did my best, but she cut me down. I was going to use my other form, but I could not do so in time. I was too hesitant and Clarent destroyed me."

"Marrok... you have nothing to be sorry for."

"She killed you!"

"You did your best. I do not hold it against you. If not for you and the others could not have saved as much of Britain as I did. Raise your head proudly and stand, Sir Marrok."

Marrok grabbed her hand and healed it, successfully this time, before he stood, "My king. It is good to see you again."

"And yo-"

The reunion was cut abruptly short as they were surrounded by a tempest of lighting and the jovial laughter of what had to be a large man. From the sky descended a massive chariot pulled by two massive horses and driven by a massive laughing man. Naturally, Marrok shielded Artoria.

But it was words that were sent at them not attacks, "Heroes! Such a pair of glorious battles you have shown me! Pity that Lancer met his end befor eI could arrive. That was quite the brazen offense, Sir Knight! I stand before you as the Rider class of this Holy Grail War! I am Iskandar! KING OF CONQUERORS!"

Next Chapter: A Mongrel Put Down

Author Note: Sorry to kill off Lancer so soon in the fic. He is one of my favorite characters in a show full of my favorite Fate characters, but he had to go. Shows more of Marrok's bloodthirsty and cunning side, and (while not intended when I designed the abilities) Marrok just happens to hard counter Lancer. Plus there's no place for all that sexual tension from the show in this fic. Don't worry, the bit where I mentioned Marrok not being a powerful servant is going to come up very quickly. Though I guess you could guess from the title of the next chapter.