(Artoria)
The enemy spearman kept up a steady rhythm of shots. She quickly dismounted and dismissed Llamrei after noticing that he was obviously aiming down at her mare's feet in order to complicate her defensive options while closing in. However, infuriatingly enough, despite his flashy armor, the man also seemed fully content to keep on backing off. Perhaps it was a Lancer class' natural Agility at work, but Artoria noticed that he was apparently familiar enough with the terrain to even perform footwork like jumping backwards without needing to ever take his eyes off her.
All the while he continued to try sneaking a hit in. For her part, with the magical energy tightly orbiting her dark blade, any shot that wasn't a clear miss or dodged could be blocked, but simply being shot over and over was no way to win any battle. Bringing her sword around after another blocking action, she fired off a blast which, after that was dodged in turn, pierced the ground and exploded, leaving being a ragged crater.
He didn't even blink as bits of earth flew in all directions, some chunks shooting past him. Composed as always, continuing to shoot at her as though to say that seems rather inefficient in the style of Sasaki Kojirou. The Saber always was easily annoyed when 'reminded' that even his longest-ever sword had less range than Holy Sword shots. But she knew her Lancer opponent was feeling pressured, for a very different reason. Ironically enough because unlike the presumably stronger King of Knights version, the Princess Knight quite openly displayed the elegant, yet functional, dress that Merlin had made for her so long ago, even if it is now dyed a deep blue. And conceptual advantages were stronger than basic statistic differences.
Yes, from the first initial attacks with water as the group went in to now, there were many telling hints that she was facing off against Fionn mac Cumhaill, the lord of Diarmuid, whom she had previously met. And someone who probably had many reasons to not take a female knight lightly, even if she might look young enough to be inexperienced. And while that last was true as-summoned since the Princess Knight didn't really start off with fine control of Caliburn due to just having drawn it out of the stone, Scathach had helped her a lot on that end.
I wonder if being schooled in swords by Casters is just a thing nowdays. I guess they are a support class, but still. It was probably much harder to teach a Servant anything, be it wielding a sword or ruling a kingdom, than a human, since Spirit Origins tended to be rather stable by their nature.
"By the way," Fionn said lightly, "You wouldn't happen to be some Western Tomoe Gozen, by any chance? Or Suzuka Gozen, that one does seem to like changing her image every now and then." He grinned. "Clearly not Jeanne d'Arc, too good with swords."
"Who knows?" she replied mockingly while shooting more beams about, further breaking up the ground around them as the pair's dance continued to move them away from the rest of the fight, circling around southwards. Two non-Archer knight classes, and they were having a ranged duel. "I might just a prettyboy paladin with an unusual battlefield fashion sense."
She managed to close on him a couple of times, 'managed' rather, since each time it seemed like a feint in order to try and catch her by surprise with a shot from just a little beyond spearpoint. Fionn knew that, at close range, he could redirect his point of aim very quickly, complicating the defense for Artoria. However, Merlin, and come to think of it Scathach as well, were much more flexible in terms of pulling off tricky attacks while in melee engagement range.
Thinking about that, whenever a motion brought her sword into correct alignment, she shot at him in turn. He couldn't easily tell if any given attack would be a small one, easily dodged, or a larger blast needing more footwork. Diarmuid's king seemed to approach their duel a bit more tactically than the dual-wielding swordsman had. Or perhaps simply playing to his strengths. She noticed that while obviously not at full extension, he didn't seem interested in doing more than threatening to thrust with his weapon, instead constantly trying to draw her in to take cheap shots. Like any good Lancer, perhaps.
Artoria turned her head towards the main battle, and began moving back, abruptly breaking off without warning.
Fionn immediately darted forward, forcing the knight back to the defense as he began re-closing the gap to his preferred range.
"(Caliburn) !" Abruptly releasing a torrent of magical energy down her blade, the Princess Knight swung wide, horizontal. Black flames sprayed out in a wide arc as she also switched to charging in the blink of an eye.
Practically smiling at the obvious retreat feint, Fionn leapt well clear of the first attack, spear still shooting as his momentum carried him backwards out of Artoria's reach. As he landed, the king settled into a familiar stance to get a stable shooting form.
His foot went into a small, unexpected hole in the ground left by the previous attacks which had broken up the soil in the area he had just been chasing his enemy back over.
Artoria, who had been blocking shots fired from above by an airborne Fionn, already had her point in line when this awaited-for momentary stumble arrived, firing a quick blast while the Lancer was briefly flat-footed.
Fionn threw his spear at her while trying to fall sideways in order to minimize the damage from the blast, which even so sent him rolling away with the force of its explosion. Expecting a more conventional shot which would have been destroyed her own attack, Artoria was blindsided by the spear Noble Phantasm which, passing close to her black beam, struck true, piercing her shoulder which was unarmored due to the style of her harness not having pauldrons, or even spaulders.
His first thought was to his water bag, but a quick grab at his side where it usually hung revealed immediately that it had been blown apart by Artoria's attack. Casting his eyes about Fionn realized that in a stroke of luck, their duel had come back around to the waterside. However, thoughts of healing himself with (Uisce Beatha) and finishing off his opponent were interrupted by the Princess Knight advancing on him with her sword burning away in her left hand.
Despite trying, his spear (Mac an Liun) would not come to his hand - it was still lodged in Artoria's shoulder and, rather than spend the time to remove it, the Servant had her right hand tightly gripping the weapon so it couldn't return to its owner. Rather than even try to swing her weapon with only her left hand, Artoria instead pointed it over at her prone opponent and, with an awkward one-handed thrusting motion, let the blazing weapon deliver the coup de grace with a single blast.
l
(Georgios)
Bayard's master had to admit that his first instinct in weapon selection had been right, since the lance was nowhere near agile enough to catch his target. "A spear would have been better," he groused to himself. Well, some of the statues humans made of him did properly show a 'lance' or long cavalry spear, but it seemed that Chaldea summoned him with a much later cavalry lance of the sort necessary to defeat plate armor. Even though one of those more famous statues clearly showed a brigandine instead.
As he switched out Ascalon, Georgios spotted an enemy archer off towards the east, apparently having broken off first. Perhaps that green-clad figure that blended in with the cheerful greenery of the coast was the type to stalk prey, rather than a sharpshooter like Euyale apparently was, or... what category would Chloe go into anyway? Probably in the style of the Cretan archers.
He's probably more dangerous than the woman, the Ruler felt. Or perhaps it was simply the fate of cavalry to chase down unsupported archers. There was a shout of warning from behind as he left his initial opponent behind, though any Archer worth their salt couldn't possibly miss a horseman bearing down on them.
Peering out from under his hood, Robin Hood drew his bow, as simple as it was powerfully elegant too. Georgios could see the arrow being aimed far too low, likely in order ensure that it exploded somewhere relevant rather than risk missing. Which was an oddity, given Archers' accuracy wasn't simply of the shooting, but actually of the hitting, like some sort of subtle reverse causality effect.
An arrow was loosed. Identifying the point of impact, Georgios only had to direct his mount to jump, the simplest way to avoid the explosion while maintaining his ideal heading of slightly to the left of the archer.
Bayard was nothing if not athletic for a charger. Obviously a dragon wouldn't simply wait to be lanced by a knight, no matter how distracting shiny armor might be. Georgios wasn't wearing armor like his current set at that time, though it would have been nice to have. He watched intently as Servant and horse continued gliding on their forward momentum, eyes tracking the archer for his next move.
Something much larger than another arrow abruptly flashed into being between the two Servants, followed soon after by the rest of its volley. Caught in midair with no easy way to avoid what would hit them in only a fraction of a second later, Georgios quickly twisted rightwards in his saddle in order to at least shadow his sword arm with the rest of his body as the group of iron spears impacted on them.
He could hear the shriek of metal splintering as it met all the armor they had on, but refused to be distracted, kicking off his stirrups for an elegant dismount as Bayard dropped onto the ground with a number of spears sticking out of it. If only humanity's modification of legends had given my horse some late Gothic plate barding too, he thought ruefully.
The archer must have been shocked to see it, given that he simply stood still as Georgios sprinted towards him. However, moments before the two Servants made contact, Bayard appeared behind his master, shoulder-checking the surprised knight to the ground. "(Yew Bow) !"
A massive tree suddenly grew, or rather reached up from only a few feet in front of the archer, catching the horse briefly before the two of them abruptly disappeared as though neither had been there.
Was it a trap? Making a quick prayer of thanks that his wonderful horse had, one again, saved him from what was clearly a Noble Phantasm intended to strike him down by surprise, the knight was back on his feet about the time that a couple of explosions from behind brought the larger battle to mind, along with a charging chariot, its rider shooting bullets of magical energy as she tried to bowl him over. However, he did the same trick she had used on him earlier of dodging at the last moment, too late for her to adjust direction.
However, it turned out that the chariot simply kept going straight for the Archer to jump on board, shooting arrows all the while. At least his aim seemed to be a bit off when on that platform, and he also seemed to be out of those exploding arrows, to boot. Tsk, they got away, he mumbled as a few parting shots from Chloe off in the distance whizzed past him, ineffectually bouncing off a rear piece of the chariot. Taking his cue from her, Georgios picked himself up and started running back to the other Chaldeans.
In the distance, Robin Hood shot one last runed arrow, which like a silvery dart flung itself at the knight's back, falling a little short and exploding. Georgios was flung forward, landing on his face. Just as he was about to get up again, abruptly like a jolt of premonition, Georgios changed his mind and instead curled up into a defensive ball.
This time he didn't see the attack that came in following Robin's signal, but he definitely heard spears breaking themselves on his armor. And felt the lucky one which punched into his right arm on the inside section which wasn't covered by plate.
"Not too bad for holding the attention of three Servants," he groaned. Clearly it wasn't nearly as bad as taking a Noble Phantasm hit, since his armor was enough to block the spears, but the flexible sections of his protection, like the voiders, were mostly mail so any one of those narrow speartips that actually made it there could easily go through to reach the flesh underneath. "Hopefully the others did well with the breathing room."
l
(Boudica's Oppidium)
"Excuse me, but you should move to the Control Hub room now," one of the druids suggested, looking out at the helpfully unidentifiable Robin Hood approaching from the distance.
He stood his ground as the addressed Berserker turned to him, disapproval evident, "The time hasn't come for that yet."
"Lancer's link with us just cut off," he explained, wincing. "We can't complete the preparations for Deployment according to the necessary timeline without him."
She blinked, checking her fixes on all the nearby Servant-level signatures most likely, and frowned. "I suppose that means it's up to me. Fine, I'm on my way." With that she dashed off to the interior of the fortress, the air disturbed by her passage tugging at everything nearby, but somehow never touching her black-embroidered dark green dress.
The druid looked out the window, spotting the land's most distinctive chariot approaching bearing two figures, before making to follow the Servant he had been sent to escort. Everyone else making up the ritual's Inner Circle were in the Hub, of course. At least one of them looked relieved to see him, as though perhaps the Berserker settling down into a seated position at the center of her foreign runic circle might somehow have ruined it all by killing a friendly for no reason.
Well, it wouldn't be unheard of, he had to admit. Though according to Boudica, the girl followed very strict delineations of red-blue-grey and was less of a liability then a Servant who might more freely change their loyalties. One would be foolish not to be somewhat apprehensive around her, though, especially after the First Exchange sent against the Romans.
In any case, for the moment anyway, she was simply 'warming up' her interior portion, the Hub; as though a soft shimmering wave were passing underneath the surface, seen though the markings she had made. Odd script, sometimes angular sometimes smooth, danced in between literal drawings of leaves, roots, shoots and all kinds of animals. He didn't understand it, none of them did, except for the outer surface.
Like the waves of a sea turned in on themselves and forced to roll around, the clean outer edge was scalloped where it interacted with the druidic circle just outside its boundaries. Under the leadership of the wise Fionn, they had been able to put together a massive ritual piece spreading though large portions of the oppidium. Working together to support this physical system, a circle of druids could accomplish much, be it defensively or otherwise.
"The positioning and ranging worked as perfectly as could be expected during the First Exchange," she said in a conversational tone as he drew closer. "However, for the expenditure of magical energy, it probably got several - certainly under ten - thousand people. Random people, that is. Since in the modern era records from Livy give numbers from one hundred thirty to two hundred seventy thousand civiumum capita for this time period."
She paused, ticking off points in her odd future-history lesson. "Unfortunately for us, this wouldn't include those stationed in further-flung areas which we don't have targeting information for. And since this manner of attacking won't home in on just military-age males, as convenient as it would be, to even make a dent that would be outside of say, Hannibal's historical effect would require, maybe trying to score a million kills across the Roman Republic."
"That seems like a bit... much," one of the druids muttered softly to herself. Indeed, even adding together all the largest tribes they knew of wouldn't add up to that.
"Thankfully a great deal of importance still lies in Roma at this stage," Berserker shrugged. "At least that's what Boudica is counting on. However, that still means, oh, two hundred thousand. Sadly, Assassin's effectiveness has been rather curtailed by that damn singer Servant from Chaldea, so it's still a tall order."
"Is there even enough magical energy to carry out twenty more Exchanges?" someone asked, eyeing the golden cup that Boudica's Servant took up and placed on top of a flower apparently designed for it.
"Probably not since the Grail is only partially filled; ten to fifteen is likely. Hopefully all those degenerates are piled up on one another like their corpses will soon be." A much dark darker green started to spread outwards through the various parts touching the flower. "Before that, I'm wondering how well the system will maintain accuracy while so much energy is being pushed through it. A city is large, but not relative to the distance from here to there."
She paused, gently tapping a fingertip on the rim of the cup. "If anyone is having doubts because you can't see the records that exist in the future of the Roman Empire and whatnot, go ahead and leave. I won't care if you walk out now, but once the system starts being stressed, you will likely burn out and die if your will isn't fireproof."
"You didn't mention anything about this!" he protested. "I intend to defend my children, people and religion as much as anyone else, but humans can't keep up with you Servants; you're literally legendary. Why did you design something like this?"
She smiled faintly, as if to say At least you were bold enough to say it but didn't answer. "Unite your will with mine; I can carry you, but anyone who wants off halfway through will slip and perish."
As though that was an activation phase, sections of the magic system began lighting up. He observed with some alarm as the amount of magical energy coming from the Gail spiked suddenly to an insane rate, even if only briefly. "What are you doing?! We haven't been told to start Deployment yet."
"I'm performing a stress-test of the system," she replied calmly, business as usual. "Man your sections so I can ensure there are no weak links when the order comes."
"If," he corrected her automatically, still worried about her potentially unstable behavior.
"Oh, it will," she corrected him in turn with a surety that chilled the room. "I asked Boudica to at least hold off until the Grail and ancillary storage was filled, but she refused. Well, it was obvious we wouldn't play out the 'quiet war' plan the moment that Nero showed up. Our queen is an Avenger after all." She shrugged as though it was an inconsequential difference of opinion. "Massalia showed that, with patience, we could have cleanly swept them all into the sea. Ah well. Either way, it has most definitely come time for the weapons of last resort to play their role."