Magostera: Yes, that's exactly it. A Quest given by the Lady of the Lake, a felon knight, a damsel in distress, a dragon... I do not think I have forgotten a cliché of a chivalric romance. I started reading the legend of the Round Table starting with "Le chevalier de la Charette" by Chrétien de Troyes. And this episode is a bit inspired by this story. That said, Lancelot is a Heroic Spirit and the usual opponents of the Questing Knight become a bit ridiculous against a Servant.
Peroncino: This Arc is dedicated to Marienburg, and it is not finished, you will see what will happen to this city... and it will not end very happily. Traitors, selfish people incapable of fidelity, idiots easy to manipulate will receive what they deserve...
IliIli567: That's a very good question. But - first of all - this Fanfiction is a crossover based on the Extraverse, not on the Fateverse. There are many differences. For example, in Fateverse, the Lady of the Lake is called Vivian. In the Extraverse, the Lady of the Lake is called Nimue. You have to understand that there are several versions of the Arthurian myth. Extraverse and Fateverse do not use the same version. To use an example that I quote frequently, in the Extraverse Gawain was killed by Lancelot during their duel. While in Fateverse Gawain survives, only to be killed by Mordred during the battle of Camlann.
Second point to take into account, I don't know if I said it clearly, but this is a fusion crossover.
There are two forms of crossover: Crossovers where you add elements from one universe to another. Generally, this gives: "Following an accident/ divine intervention one/ many characters are isekaied in another universe." Then there are the fusion crossovers. The latter considers that the two universes have always been linked.
Warhammer Fantasy includes many characters and myths directly inspired by our world. I considered that these characters and myths were not only inspired but identical. Thus -in this Fanfic- the Lady of the Lake, the Green Knight, and the Holy Grail... which appear in Bretonnia have immigrated from Fateverse. In fact, in the case of the Green Knight it's just the opposite... the ghost of Giles the Breton did a little tour in the Arthurian saga.
In the case of Nimue, to create the character in this Fanfic, I relied on elements from the Extraverse as well as articles from the encyclopedia of Warhammer fantasy. The character is therefore a mix of the Extraverse version of the Lady of the Lake and the Warhammer Fantasy's canon version.
This setting has the advantage of making the Warhammer world less foreign to the Knight of the Round by taking up whole elements of the Grail cycle and transposing them in Bretonnia. Incidentally, it also makes it possible to reuse the usual enemies of the Arthurian saga in Bretonnia or Albion.
Reditus Lancelot (secunda pars)
(Lancelot's Return, second part)
The Dwarf mines of old are different from Dwarfholds in three ways. They were considerably smaller, inhabited only by Mining clans and the processing of ore and games. Most significantly their defenses merely consisted of watchtowers and light stone walls – though they were soon strengthened after the initial onslaught by the Orcs and Goblins. This form of settlement largely died out with the fall of the three largest Dwarf mines. Mining communities can still be found throughout the mountains bordering the Empire but on a much smaller scale. Now, the only extensive mining operations that take place are those beneath the Dwarfholds.
Dwarfs Stone & Steel, P 39-41
The goblins advanced along the stream. Astralized, Lancelot du Lac detailed the appearance of the creatures. Seen from profiles, the goblins had a certain resemblance to a caricature of a crescent moon. The nose was as crooked as the chin was prominent. The narrow, green face was covered with pustules. The orange eyes with yellow glitter were split like those of a cat. The mouth with thin lips, almost non-existent, revealed in a permanent grin a row of yellow fangs, badly implanted, bent, like rocky needles cracked by the frost.
They wore improbable cuirass made up of chainmail's rags recovered from dead bodies, stinking, barely tanned skins, moth-eaten yellowed furs, and rusty pieces of metal held in place by straps and ties. The disparity in armor only reflected the disparity of weapons… Impossible to qualify the… things… that they held under one name or another. They were just pieces of formless metal that were corroded. Some had some kind of spears or halberds, others had some kind of shields on which a clumsy hand had drawn a drawing that could be interpreted as a screaming face. A part of the troop used small bad quality bows. Their wicker quiver contained rows of crow feathered arrows
The Knight of the Round didn't have to imagine the smell of dirt and the never-washed bodies of these creatures. As he advanced toward them in the wind, it was their smell that alerted him to their presence.
The explosion that ended the life of the dragon Verthumgard seemed to have plunged the inhabitants of the Arden Forest into a frenzy
Guided by a large goblin that pushed his warriors forward with whips, the troop quickly passed without suspecting the presence of the knight.
A little further, Sir Lancelot saw wolf-riders, goblins using wolves as mounts.
Sir Lancelot of the Lake arrived at the edge of the forest. He discovered a new entrance into the cliff. However, unlike the natural cave used as a dragon's den, this time it was an artificial tunnel at ground level, closed by an impressive wooden door. The entrance gate was not completely close but nevertheless guarded by four goblins.
Still Astralized, Sir Lancelot didn't care about guards and entered a wide coarsely hewn corridor.
It was certainly cold inside this tunnel because the condensation covered the rocks with water droplets. The ground was muddy, covered with excrement and gnawed bones. Lancelot saw child-like footprints and paws of wolves.
A smaller side corridor gave access to a small cave where three goblins played an incomprehensible game and argued.
Without looking after them, Lancelot continued in the main corridor.
A little further, he discovered a large wooden door in the north wall. It was locked. Of course, he could pass through... like a ghost. Lancelot looked at the footprints on the ground. The wolves were coming from the other side of that door. Probably some kind of stable... for wolf-rider mounts.
The Knight of the Lac decided to continue in the main corridor because that's where the goblins came from.
The Goblins' den was a huge, coarsely laid-out natural cave. In the center of the room was a vast fire, the smoke escaping through an opening in the ceiling. Everywhere there were goblins... several hundred, occupied to drink, to fight, to eat, or to play cruel games. All were armed and had coarse armor, they seemed dangerous and bloodthirsty.
Lancelot quickly visited the secondary caves, which were connected to the great hall by corridors of varying lengths. Lancelot discovered human slaves in a secondary room. Chained and brutalized by the Greenskins, they were forced to dig new tunnels for the benefit of their oppressors.
Lancelot would have willingly slaughtered the slavers... but then? Even he could not slaughter the hundreds of goblins that were in the main room while protecting the prisoners and guiding them to the exit.
Sir Lancelot swore on the name of the Lady that he would return to deliver them later. His priority was to find Dame Ariane, and the knight doubted that she was among the prisoners of the Goblins. He turned around.
Some of the caves were stockpiles of food or weapons, nothing very interesting.
Finally, Lancelot discovered the leader of the goblins of the Dragon's Tooth tribe. It was easy to recognize him. Larger, more hideous, this monster lived in a luxuriously furnished south-eastern cavern... at least luxurious compared to the primitive way of life of other members of his tribe.
Rematerializing in the chief's room, Lancelot drew his sword before the dumbfounded eyes of the chief of the Dragon's Tooth's goblins.
Before the humanoid could make a gesture, Lancelot passed Arondight through his chest. The goblin collapsed to the ground and the Knight of the Lac released his sword with a smirk of contempt on his face.
He deeply despised the Greenskins, They were cowards, vile little morons who tortured the weak and crawled out begging for mercy when they faced the strong. Deceitful creatures, traitors, liars, without morals, without mercy, these sub-human beings deserved no mercy themselves.
Having found nothing interesting in the goblin's den, Sir Lancelot returned to the Arden Forest. He continued to the northeast. Looking up, he saw the old dwarf road zigzagging along the side of the Dragon's Tooth. From the forest one could clearly see the towers and the walls that defended the entrance of a dwarf mine, near the summit.
Sir Romuald and the other felon knights were to have settled in these ruins. Still, a way had to be found to enter.
At this moment, the sound of voice caught the attention of the knight. Two sentries were posted in the shelter of a large rock. From where Lancelot was standing, they were clearly visible. Nevertheless, from the road, they were invisible.
Lancelot went up the cliff and rematerialized in front of them. The two varlets uttered cries of terror and retreated.
Although they were two traitors and simple serfs, they were still humans. Lancelot, therefore, behaved in a chivalrous manner.
"Stop, varlets, throw down your weapons and make submissions, otherwise I should put my sword through you!"
Surprised, terrified, the two men exchanged an incredulous look.
"Who... Who are you?"
Without answering, Lancelot looked at their shields and their surcoats adorned with Nancy's coat of arms (white with a red eagle).
"Are you in the service of Nancy's house? This traitor house no longer exists! You are therefore rebelling against Bretonnia's law! Submit or die!"
The guards who defended the entrance of one of the secret passages of the ancient Dwarfs were a little surprised to see Jean Noutier, one of the guards on duty on the road.
As the young serf explained to them that he had something important to do inside, the two guards shrugged their shoulders. If Jean wanted to goof off and be punished by Lord Romulad that was his problem.
When the secret passage closed in his back 'Jean Noutier' smiled.
How could the guards have known that the real Jean Noutier and his comrade were tied up and gagged, hidden behind a rock?
For Someone's Glory: Not For One's Own Glory was another Lancelot du Lac's Noble Phantasm, deceiving the eyes and ears of others by allowing Lancelot to take the form of other Heroic Spirits who won in various military exploits. Even though Lancelot rarely used it this way, the Noble Phantasm also allowed him to take on the appearance of ordinary people, peasants, villagers, and guards.
On reaching the top of a staircase, Lancelot discovered a tunnel with carefully masonry walls and paved floors. From far and wide, the tunnel passed between statues of Dwarf in armor one hand on an axe, holding a round shield in the other hand. Helmets adorned with spreading horns or wings hid the top of the face of these warriors, but they were all bearded. Here and there texts in runic letters were sealed in the walls. The torches had been extinguished for a long time and Lancelot did not encounter a living soul. Everything seemed to be abandoned. Some vaults had collapsed, dust, debris, and cobwebs could be seen everywhere.
As there was no side passage, the Knight of the Lac continued to a crossroads. In the light of Arondight he discovered the beginnings of three new corridors.
The knight questioned the two guards he had captured, but it was difficult to get an idea of the interior of the mines simply by the account of two panicked prisoners. He was now completely lost.
Finding no indication of the direction to take, Lancelot took a random corridor.
He wandered for a long time. At one point, the Lady's adopted son set off a trap. Three metal spears popped out of a hole in a wall. Fortunately, this purely mechanical trap could not hurt a Servant and he continued to advance without worrying about it.
The corridor ended on a double door so massive that it did not move while Lancelot was weighing on its hinges. Seeing a lock, he hesitated for a moment. Of course, he could cross the wall in Astral form... but if he found something interesting on the other side, he had to abandon it, since he could only Astralized with his armor, his weapons, and the gifts of the Lady of the Lake.
After resuming his wandering in the ruins of the Dragon's Tooth, Lancelot discovered a staircase descending. If his sense of orientation did not deceive him, the steps were almost opposite to his point of entry into this labyrinth. At the bottom of the steps, Lancelot arrived at an inhabited part of the Dragon's Tooth.
Lancelot estimated the length of the descent to half the staircase he had climbed from the secret entrance. Hearing noises of voices, the Knight of the Lac took on the appearance of Jean Noutier and advanced into a large room that was full of men-at-arms belonging to Nancy's house.
"Excuse me, I have a message for Sir Romuad, where is he?"
One of the men-at-arms designated a corridor.
"Second door."
The Knight of the Round resumed its normal appearance in the hallway and he opened the door that he had been told, leading into a richly furnished room with a mixture of dwarf and Bretonian supplies.
A man turned to him. Dressed in a lordly manner, he smiled cruelly at him:
"Oh, a visit? No doubt you have come to deliver Lady Ariane. Alas, I fear that only death will come."
Lancelot detailed his opponent's face. His beard was short and graying, he has a scar on his cheek, and his hair was cut short so as not to hinder the wearing of the helmet. These were the features drawn on the wanted poster on the walls of Guéfort:
"You are Sir Romuald of Nancy."
"I was going to say, 'To serve you, sir knight'. Alas, I have little politeness for intruders... 'to kill you, sir knight', then."
Lancelot saluted with Arondight.
"Sir, allow me to throw the glove at you. I am Lancelot du Lac, Knight of the Round!"
In an elegant gesture, Sir Romuald de Nancy detached his cloak and threw it on a chair, before drawing his sword. The silverite blade was shrouded in golden light.
"I accept your challenge. As you already know, I am Sir Romuald of Nancy. You have an advantage over me, this duel is not chivalrous. You are in armor and I am not."
"Be that as is mays, it will not be said that Lancelot du Lac dishonors himself by unchivalrous behavior."
Lancelot's armor disappeared in a whirlpool of blue prana. He wore only the padded underwear that a knight wore under his armor. Sir Romuald de Nancy took a step forward and the two blades clashed in a shower of sparks. The morgue of the renegade count proved justified at first. He moved incredibly fast, even Sir Lancelot seemed slow by comparison. However, the technique of the Knight of the Round was far superior to that of his enemy. As for his physical strength... Sir Romuald de Nancy receded and staggered with each attack from the first exchange of blows.
The count swallowed up. Without giving him time to catch his breath, Sir Lancelot rushed forward.
As the confrontation took place in a room of normal size, cluttered with furniture, Sir Lancelot could not stay away from his opponent, which forced him to fight in a 'short game'.
Sir Lancelot struck in tiger-form, from right to left, and Sir Romuald blocked the attack. The two blades collided, projecting prana discharges around.
As attacks and counter-attacks multiplied, Sir Romuald's face widened and his breath became more and more difficult. Every exchange of blows made him stagger, his wrists and arms tired... while his opponent seemed to have infinite endurance.
Romuald went back on guard and retreated to the chair where he had thrown his cape. As Lancelot advanced toward him, he lifted the chair with one hand and threw it toward his opponent. The Knight of the Round broke into a million pieces the improvised projectile with a sword stroke. But Romuald had seized his cape and wrapped it around Lancelot's face, with a nimble movement.
Blinded, disoriented, the Knight of the Lac had his wrist twisted by his enemy as he raised his sword to strike him in the face... except that Lancelot was stronger than his enemy and tore himself from his grip. He retaliated with a punch, striking him in the belly.
Sir Romuald retreated, spitting blood.
The next moment, Lancelot -rid of the cloak that obstructed his vision- raised Araondight. The Sacred Blade described an elegant curve and... Sir Romuald collapsed on his knees, stunned by the brevity of the fight.
"Brilliant effort, you are an admirable swordsman, my lord. I would have liked to prolong the fight, alas... time is running out."
Romuald dropped his weapon to carry his hand to his chest, in a childish gesture to contain the blood that flowed on the ground.
"How... how could you beat me?"
"Your talent in the art of sword handling is commendable, my lord. But I am the best knight in the world. You can leave without shame, my lord. I will not forget your name."
The felon lord did not answer, he had just collapsed sideways, in the puddle of his own blood.
Searching the room, the knight found a bronze key.
Lancelot opened the other door of the chamber to inspect a corridor. He saw several identical accesses, a staircase descending at one end, and a large room on the other. Voices and the silhouettes of men-at-arms proved that the places were populated.
Once back on the upper floor and after some hesitation - the whole level proved to be a veritable labyrinth- Lancelot returned to the door that he had not been able to open. Avoiding the dwarf traps, reactivated, the knight of the Lac turned Sir Romuald's key in the lock which responded with a satisfactory click.
When he pushed the door, he discovered a medium-sized room divided in two by a metal gate. It was a prison summarily furnished with a bed and a table and two chairs.
At the knight's entrance, a young woman rose with a start, her beautiful face clouded by anxiety. Sir Lancelot recognized Lady Ariane to her paraselene dress of blue silk.
"Fear not, madam, I am not your enemy. On the contrary, my name is Lancelot du Lac, knight of the order of the Round Table."
Dame Ariane blinked surprised by the arrival of this young man with an agreeable face and purple armor. With every gesture, every voice tone, every glance he inspired valor and chivalry. His mere presence was enough to secure the prisoner.
Lady Ariane grabbed the bars of her cell and looked at Lancelot with an imploring look:
"Please, Sir Knight, I am in great distress. Free me from this prison, for the Lady's sake."
Lancelot examined the gate. There was a part used as a door, but no opening mechanism.
"Lady, how did you get into this sordid home?"
The young woman shook her head
"I don't know but... I fainted... But Zanzabar the necromancer came to feed me this morning, accompanied by two Orks guards. He opened the gate using a spell contained in his ring."
"A magic spell?"
Taking off his gauntlet, Lancelot raised his hand to the height of his eyes and looked at the Lady's ring:
"Dame, dame, se Dex m'aït, or avroie je grant mestier que vos me poïssiez eidier." (1)
The magic ring of the Lady that Lancelot wore on his finger had the virtue of undoing the enchantments.
The cell door opened in a snap as the chains of Dame Ariane fell from her wrists.
The maiden bowed deeply:
"Sir Knight, I owe you my freedom and my life. I thank you very much and..."
But the young woman's thanks were interrupted by a violent crash. A block of stone had just fallen from the ceiling, preceding a real cataract. Simultaneously the bronze door had closed...
The water was rising very fast!
Of course, getting out of that trap was not a problem for Lancelot... at least if he had been alone.
The knight did not panic.
"Please, my lady, do not move!"
He waved to Lady Ariane who was looking at the water that had already reached the height of her thighs, then he Astralized.
In immaterial form, Lancelot crossed the walls in search of a secret passage.
And fortunately, there was an exit of this kind, strangely located near the ceiling.
When he returned to the room, Dame Ariane was already obliged to swim to keep her head above the water. He guided her to the passage he had discovered, a simple conduit just high enough to crawl there.
The conduit led into a vast cave. The floor was carefully paved and in the middle of the room was a statue three times higher than a man. It was the representation of a Dwarf king, with magnificent armor. In one hand the sovereign held a double-headed axe, in the other a book. He was crowned by a helmet adorned with wings and his beard was braided.
While Lancelot was helping Lady Ariane to stand up, an impressive cracking made him turn. The statue descended from its base:
"Only dwarves can enter this cave. Go or die!"
Lancelot materialized his sword, helmet, and shield.
"Lady Ariane, please, return to the passage."
The young woman glanced at the stone golem and nodded, eager to reach the relative shelter of the duct.
Lancelot faced the animated statue.
The dwarf king advanced, raising his axe high. But the blow could only break several slabs. Lancelot had jumped aside. As the golem began to straighten out, the Knight of the Lake put his foot on the axe. The strength of the Servant was such that the animated statue was immobilized.
Lancelot raised his arm above his head.
His sword began to radiate blue light. And Lancelot leaped forward, striking the golem in the chest.
"Arondight!"
A pool of bluish light appeared where The Unfading Light of the Lake had touched the royal statue and then... there was an explosion, the king's head bounced against a wall in the middle of several other broken and smoking stones fragment, then the rest of the statue disintegrated.
"You could come, Lady Ariane, let us leave these sinister places."
After passing through countless dark passages and climbing hundreds of steps, Lady Ariadne and Sir Lancelot finally reached a door that opened on the Dwarfs' road. At their feet lay the Arden Forest.
Back to the present...
The banquet hall at Belle Isle Castle was lively and noisy. A Bretonian troubadour told a dull and atrociously long story, dwelling on genealogies, describing coats of arms, and celebrating the past exploits of the many secondary characters of this complicated story.
Livered servants of the Marches de Couronne came in to bring wine, game in sauce, pâtés en croute.
A large table surrounded the center of the room where the troubadour continued to sing.
Near the fire burning in the great chimney, greyhounds slept, satisfied.
Hakuno Kishinami occupied the place of honor, sitting right next to Marquise Patricia. Lancelot, sitting between her and Artoria, finished telling his story:
"... so I brought Lady Ariane back to her father, preventing a feudal war. Nevertheless, as Artois, the Marches de Couronne, and Gisoreux had mobilized, we found good use of the armies thus gathered."
As Hakuno looked at Lancelot blinking, without understanding, Patricia de Mess intervened.
"Sir Lancelot means that our allied armies attacked the Dragon's Tooth, annihilating the goblins, the felons of Nancy, and the undead of Zorzabar, releasing the prisoners as he promised to do."
Lancelot du Lac raised his cup of Bordeleaux wine to toast the Marquise.
"Madam, I thank you for this kindness."
"Please, Sir Knight, you risked your life to save my future daughter-in-law, it was normal that I grant you this small wish, especially since it was a question of saving innocent people in the hands of our common enemies."
"Madam, it was quite natural. I did only what every knight should do in such circumstances."
"And as the last Earl of Nancy, Sir Romuald, died, I decided to give his title to Sir Lancelot," said Marquise Patricia, turning again to Hakuno.
Neither Lancelot (too accustomed) nor Hakuno (too innocent) had noticed Patricia's almost ecstatic expression. On the other hand, Artoria shook her head, disgusted... that pretty boy, Prince Charming Lancelot could not stay three days somewhere without half the women falling in love with him. The King of Knights looked at the assembly of noble knights, and rich barons who occupied the rest of the table... Most men seemed to make efforts to remain calm, poking their table knives with a ferocious desire for murder as painted on their face. As usual, half the men were jealous of Lancelot... we have here a perfect storm in preparation.
Artoria massaged her temples with one hand, her usual migraine had returned... weird as she always had headaches near Lancelot!
(1) My Lady, my Lady, God knows how much I need you to come to my rescue." it's a translation of the Chevalier de la Charette, verses 2340 to 2344, from 13 century French,