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Post by Gráinne on Apr 4, 2016 23:09:56 GMT
The sensation of being Ray Shifted was totally alien, almost unpleasant, but the rapid beating of her heart and the lurching sensation in her stomach could have just as easily been attributed to her own nervousness (and excitement) at the situation as well after all. It wasn’t every day that one got to go on an adventure to wreck things with not only one, but three servants from various points of history and legend. Unfortunately as far as she was aware not a single one of them was Irish and that put a bit of a downer on things, but she refused to let that bother her! Not when there were other things to be disappointed about...
Grainne glanced around, a small frown making its way onto her face as she looked over at the church. How unfortunate that she had two religious Heroic Spirits with her, well 'religious'. Obviously they wouldn’t have signed up if they hadn’t wanted to destroy to wreck a church. She knew she had signed up because it would have been a chance to let out all of her rage at how dull one Father Jack’s sermons had been.
Still, this hadn’t been what she expected when she joined up with Chaldea.
It was strange really, how she’d been planning on going on missions around the world only for her first real one to be in some delightfully derelict oriental city instead of some interesting (but probably slightly dirty)or famous city. Like Rome. Or Victorian London, or London when Boudicca invaded. Just her luck really wasn’t it? Ah, never mind, there was always next mission. Shaking those thoughts from her head, Grainne instead decided to concentrate on working out how this was all going to work. It should have been simple enough, she had three servants at her disposal to create absolute havoc, two Sabers and an Assassin (or was it Caster? She couldn't quite recall). Perhaps it wasn’t going to be a wrecking party of Berserker levels, and she would have little to do but provide the prana and watch as they did their thing.
A tad disappointing, she had planned to do more than just stand back and watch but her formal wear provided some awkward restrictions. As it was now she could only use Reinforcement and a healing spell, useful, but nothing like what she could do in the present timeline. Then again she was sure that someone would be thankful for it if they got a boo boo or something. Trying not to dwell on anything in particular too much, he waited for the other three to make an appearance, making sure to stay on her toes in case of pesky ghouls.
“I’m not sure if you all want introductions or whatever, but tough luck, you’re getting one. Grainne Ni Conghaile at your service. I suspect that you all know what you signed yourselves up for before you decided that getting blasted eleven years into the past sounded fun, right?”
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Post by signy on Apr 5, 2016 0:50:33 GMT
“I don’t know about fun. But seeing the past is always fascinating~”Before anyone else could answer, a sweet voice answered first. A petite, blue-haired youth with clean flowing robe appeared in front of Grainne, seemingly out of nowhere. In her left hand was a long staff with feather-like emblem on top, while the other hand held the edge of her robe in a graceful curtsy. She had a friendly smile and bright intelligent eyes. And although small, there was no doubt in the dexterity of her limbs. As always, Grimhildr had “persuaded” those in charge of Ray-Shifting to let her be Ray-Shifted earlier than the others. Although exactly how early no one would be able to tell. It would appear that she had just arrived a few seconds before the others, but she had already had the layout of the church in her mind. A hilltop building in an edge of what used to be a residential area. It had a quite spacious paved walkway leading to the entrance and there was what seemed to be cemetery behind, but she did not dare to get closer than that. Let the Sabers clear the danger first. As she lifted her eyes, they connected with those of her Provisional Master. This Grainne she had met before in a lonely midnight in the Mess Hall. She still remembered, although there was zero chance the Master herself would remember her likeness. The most she would be able to remember was there were three people in the Mess Hall at that time. One blonde knight and one whose appearance became hazier the more she tried to remember. A pity, actually. Grimhildr rather liked the well-read individual. Perhaps one day she would condition her to remember her by something other than appearance, like she had clandestinely did towards the Chaldea staffs? Perhaps. If she proved to be important enough. Swiping her gaze towards their fellow Servants, the Witch of Spiders made her introduction. “Pleasure to be working with you. I am called Signy, Servant Assassin.” And then her gaze rested on Grainne with a meaningful, sincere look. ”I might not worth much, but I will protect our Master with my life.”With that confident and honest remark for one who looked so young, she sent several messages with her tone only. One is that the two Sabers should focus on the task at hand. She would handle the Master’s protection. And it also told that she would stick close to the Master, so if they would like her to reconnaissance there must be a swap of place. And in an event that something went wrong, she would escape with the Master without a second thought. The Sabers must be prepared to defend themselves. Of course, it remained to be seen whether the Knights would trust an Assassin with their Master’s life~ Regardless of the situation, once they started moving towards the church, the Assassin would invariably drew closer to the Master, and whispered something that only she could hear. Her face has a playful look. A playful secret. “Please tell me one thing, Master Grainne,” she said, her intelligent eyes twinkling, “Do you prefer to get into action with us, or are you the type that’s content on watching from the sidelines?”
It was as if she could guess what her friend was thinking.
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Post by Gilles on Apr 6, 2016 22:24:41 GMT
"Just as long as it brings me closer to her redemption."
It was a city vastly different to the ones Gilles was used to seeing. Instead of the aged stone building nestled inside great stone walls a far more odd sight had befallen him as he appeared ready and willing to serve.
Glancing around he could clearly see that he was not the only Saber to be supporting their Master this time. Perhaps in time a rivalry might form, or even one of companionship. Regardless, it was yet to be seen if Gilles was even at all worth the cost of his appearance. But as for the Assassin, he often had trouble getting along with the shady types. Perhaps it was just simply a matter of compatibility, or maybe it was an inherent fear of a detestable future. Even so, he was prepared to work with them for as much was necessary so that they might be able to achieve their goals.
Making his presence known, Gilles let off a polite noble bow as a graceful yet dour expression donned on his face as he glanced over his fellow Servants.
"Greetings fellow companions, I am the humble Grand Marshal of France, Gilles de Rais, here to aid you all in this most humblest of tasks. So long as the rest of you will it, I hope to be an ally in the battles yet to come. Simply point me in the direction of our goals and I will do all in my own power to see that they those goals are accomplished."
Perhaps it was best to keep just how he would accomplish those goals hidden for now. Nevertheless, Gilles thought it was an appropriate introduction to start with. Actually making friends was something he saw as unnecessary for the time being. At least until his main goals were close to realization.
With his curt piece finished, Gilles then faded once more into the background and allowed the rest to say their own piece.
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Post by Roland on Apr 18, 2016 3:57:07 GMT
The river bled redder than Roland, running along with nobody to follow. Red scabs lay bare behind thick, dark clouds. His ears caught remnants of syllables - but they were pervaded by a continuous static, so he couldn't quite make them out.
It didn't really feel like much. What did they call it again... Clay Shifting? Well, his mouth felt a bit bitter, but the sensation wasn't anything strange or fantastical to Roland: he was there before, and how he was here. It was as simple to him as falling asleep in a moving chariot. The big difference here being that this chariot happened to travel through time and space.
He gazed at his objective. The tarnished soil. The rustic gates. The battered remnants of holy property, spoiled by the fallen. And they had to destroy it. Unfortunately, Roland liked churches. They reminded him of the awe-inspiring, supreme God he fought for, so he felt especially personal about this mission. He'd definitely have to apologize to his Bible later.
"Grand Marshal, huh? Woah..." He pondered over the title, unsure as to what it meant; though the guy did say he was French, so he must be a worthy ally nonetheless. Nodding to himself, Roland turned to his allies, raising an arm. "Hey, everyone! Err, except you, moving corpse over there! Roland here; sure you've heard of me! Nice weather, right? Church is looking good, too. What's the formation, then? We gonna go line? Maybe diamond? Charlemagne?" The paladin paused, furrowing his brow in troubled thought. "...Oh, right. We'd need twelve for that."
"Well, it's up to you guys. I'm gonna be at the front, though." Without waiting for anyone's approval, Roland dashed forward towards the church gates with a toothy grin - only to realize that they were locked. He rattled at the bars in an attempt to pry them open, growing increasingly frustrated. "Man, this sucks... oh!" Hit by a stroke of genius, he raised his sword and sliced the lock and blocker in half, kicking the gates open with a triumphant yell.
"All clear to advance, Master! Our first adversary has been dealt with!"
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Post by Gráinne on Apr 22, 2016 11:23:17 GMT
“If it’s all the same to you, Assassin, I’d be happier not risking my neck until I’m capable of using more spells. And please, just call me Grainne, the Master title seems so…formal.”
It was true, her current arsenal was limited but that was to be expected and she doubted Masters were there to serve as anything but an anchor. Still, she smiled softly at the shorter Servant, sweet of them to ask after all. She didn’t think she’d get much action in the general sense but she was alright with that (in the same way that she simply was not alright being called Master in that manner). A servant could do more damage than she could possibly dream of anyway, even if the ones Chaldea had chosen didn’t seem like the most…destructive types. Two Sabers and an Assassin, Grainne had to wonder why Chaldea hadn’t sent a Berserker to help her deal with wrecking things. On the other hand a level of coherency was always good when it came to communication and directing people to demolish things. Although in all honesty the first French Saber, Gilles, the Marshall of France, hadn’t struck her as the destructive type. Definitely one to keep an eye on, easier said than done considering he seemed to want to disappear into the background.
But he was far from the strangest person here, Signy had one of those faces that made her think that they must have met before but any attempt at recollection became hazy the moment she thought too hard and Roland was…well let’s just say he seemed peculiar. An overall decent person (quite different from the other French Servant here, he seemed a little less sneaky) but awfully peculiar and scatter brained. Maybe she didn’t need a Berserker for this task after all.
Just as she was about to form a plan of attack however someone had already made their move.
“Feck.”
Couldn’t fault the guy for being enthusiastic. On the other hand, she could totally fault him for rushing into something that might end up with getting them in a tight spot later. Never mind, the harm was done now.
“Well, that sorts one thing out. I suppose you’d like to go and destroy things now? I do have one request though, if Signy could stay a tad closer to me that’d be appreciated. Up to you though, I'd like to think I can take care of myself if push comes to shove.”
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Post by signy on Apr 25, 2016 14:47:27 GMT
Gilles de Rais. Grand Marshall of France. Signy inconspicuously analyze him as he spoke, observing each and every clue possible to his being. He had the face of someone the Witch really liked. The type that have a deep, far-flung longing never to be attained, and his eyes told of seeming willingness to do anything to see pursue that wish. Those type are some of the easiest people to manipulate. But she should get to know him better first~ At the Master’s poignant refusal, Assassin simply answered with an earnest smile. “As you wish, Grainne. Though if you changed your mind, please don’t hesitate to tell me. I know how frustrating it can be to be sidelined into simply a watcher, and a few simple runes would fix just that~” She tilted her head a little. “And please remember that You are not just a prana battery for us, Grainne. Right now you are our Master, and we are your Servants. I do think you deserve to do something should you want to.
"But I will never, never let you risk your neck even if you do act with us. ”
There was only a slightest hint of being hurt at her last words, like someone who earnestly offered a helping hand but being turned away. It was rather hurtful for the Servant when her Master said she was in danger of risking her neck even while she was still present. But she was not offended. Not at all. Or rather, even if she was offended her Skill would made it impossible to detect it. She simply offered what little assistance she could, but it was up to the Master to take it or not. Without sounding too forceful, the Assassin politely dropped the subject and focused on the task at hand. The red-haired Saber was as rash as his hair color showed. He had gallantly charged right at the front door. Gone were Signy’s hope of reconnaissance of danger first. Whatever it was the church was holding, it would definitely knew trouble had arrived. She watched the opened gates with anticipation, half-expecting that a large swarm of ghouls would appear and swarm theit little group. But it seemed all was quiet. The rusty gate was unhinged at one wing and fell with a clang on the ground. Other than that, nothing seemed to happen. Then, if they did not want to swarm them, The Witch of Spiders would. She was about to reach for something in her robe when the Master voiced her plans. “Well, that sorts one thing out. I suppose you’d like to go and destroy things now? I do have one request though, if Signy could stay a tad closer to me that’d be appreciated. Up to you though, I'd like to think I can take care of myself if push comes to shove.”The blue-haired person smiled. The Master was much more level-headed than she originally thought. A blonde king of a sunken city once ranted in the Mess Hall about how Master Grainne’s people consisted of nothing other than drunkards and potatoes, and Signy half-believed him. But it seemed his bias was ungrounded after all. “Why, you read my mind, Master.” She let a little laugh. “That was exactly my intention.”She took a step closer to the gate. “Please move a little bit, everyone. This may take a lot of space.”And with that, she brought out the Tooth of Fafnir. Not all Magus mastered the art of summoning Dragon Tooth Warriors. And even if they do, not all of them had the opportunity to meet a real Dragon in their lives. Signy was blessed with the remains of the famed dragon Fafnir as part of her treasure. Of course, she was part of the grand plan of his turning into a dragon and eventually be slain in the first place, so it was expected that she claimed some rewards. And although deprived of the necessary Item Construction skill, the special properties of the Tooth and her own Rune mastery circumvented it somehow. Throwing the Tooth on the ground, Signy began weaving elegant symbols as her fingers forced the Tooth deep and deeper into the ground.A clever combination of bandrún centered around Ingwaz …linked with Othala…thrice over…and an Önd in the older style… in a short time the ground around the Tooth began to shook. And out of the ground came a group of ten Dragon Warriors, wielding swords. They immediately started walking towards the church, and just as they took their first step another ten emerged from the ground. And another ten…And another… And another… All marching towards the Church in a seemingly endless stream of bones and skeletons. There was no doubt that the Assassin could call a thousand of those things on a whim. And a thousand more. After directing her minions to encircle the church and began to destroy anything they met, the Witch herself stepped back and positioned herself again near Grainne. “Now, we can simply watch from the sidelines as you wished.” She said to her Master in a good-natured jest, “My Warriors will tear down the building and the Sabers can finish anything stronger than it.”
Of course, it was rather draining for the Master, so Signy limited her summoning to five hundred at a time. Her Master need her mana in reserve should anything ever happened.
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Post by Gilles on Apr 28, 2016 7:04:38 GMT
His allies had already begun to move and despite what danger may lie ahead it was clear that for Gilles waiting seemed like a fine course of action. Let the tacticians move forwards and eliminate what they could, he would be content on dealing with what they could not, such was his job as a Saber.
But besides that he was hesitant to fight, perhaps this was due to the fact he was only an average Servant, but more deep down he knew that there was the slight chance he would lose himself in the chaos. Such was the curse that came with the title Bluebeard and whether he wanted it or not he was stuck dealing with it.
Even though he was a Servant, a legendary hero recorded throughout the vast pages of history, he still couldn't help but get nervous about whatever spider's den they were about to awaken. As such he needed something to calm down, anything would do really.
Grabbing from his waist belt a small leather(?)bound book from his side he flipped through a few of the pages before coming to a halt and giving a short nod to himself. It was then that the Great Grand Martial began to display his artistic prowess in the way he knew best, by reciting a poem.
"The battlefield colored in splotches of rust sing the dead, sing the young, sing the proud heads hung below a flag of simple belief I ran hand in hand with the saint Joan of Arc."
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