Pleas of the Fallen - Part 1

The path up the mountain probably would not have been the easiest to traverse for one outside of at least adequate physical condition. It’s no surprise that Mordred could traverse it easily, and requiring her to force herself to reign herself in to keep pace with her Master, slowly tapping the path forward with her cane. To think, she had to shepherd the infirm again...it would be especially annoying had she not had experience with Natasha.

Their last mission had been something of an unmitigated disaster, owing to the insanity of the Berserker-class Servant they had been cooperating with, Natasha’s inability to control it effectively, and the godforsaken jester’s inability to act for the betterment of the team. She shouldn’t be surprised, but it still left a black mark on her record that she felt bound to correct. Hopefully, this Servant wouldn’t be so utterly frustrating as the ones she had been forced to deal with before were…his question was admirable enough, at least, even if it was stupid.

“I am Saber. What I do should be self-evident.” Her words come out in a harsh bark. Saber was the most powerful class of Servant, but it also wasn’t the most versatile. Mordred was a wrecking ball, able to fight at a level where few were her peers...but beyond fighting, her uses were limited. “I won’t even begin to ask what your gross amalgamation of classes is capable of. Just so long as you don’t hold me back, I’ll be satisfied.”

With that, Mordred tosses her head back to Natasha. “I believe that will not be an issue. I’ll show you how effective I can be this time...now that there aren’t incompetents getting in my way.” Mordred was absolutely confident that would be reassuring, but whether it actually was could vary wildly. “Perhaps we should reconvene back at Chaldea later. My….dear friend...is an excellent cook. Once this insignificant little trip is concluded, we could eat together!”

And, right on time, the Servants decided it was time to start acting like babies. She was having such a good time, too. Captain Ego sounded like a high schooler who was trying to hide the fact that his balls hadn’t dropped yet, while Mordred decided to play the edgy emo side of the ordeal. Good lord. These were the heroes of mankind. One was a knightly inhuman spirit that was already intent on getting laid, while the other was some asinine imbecile; no doubt with an ego to match whatever outrageous power he had. Who really thought this project was a good idea, with people like this supporting this ‘war’? Couldn’t they just use guns or something instead? With people with brains using them, preferably?

But alas, off went the male – Natasha could feel his magic; especially as it disrupted her lovely well of mana… such fun. She loved standing around carrying giant, heavy objects. At least butlers and maids got treated with some respect; out here she really was just a pack mule. Even last time, she’d just been a liability. What was the point of her being here? To give mana? Didn’t Chaldea do that anyway? And with this giant cloud here, too… ugh! She hated it! At least she got to go out and drink in this delightful atmosphere for a while. ”What a lovely day… it’s a shame about the company.” mused the blonde bitterly, to no one in particular – maybe Mordred would take it as an idle slander against the partner she’d shown very little care for so far herself; but in truth Natasha was really just cursing the entire place.

Continuing her march, Natasha finally set down the device – thankfully she didn’t have to worry about reading directions and the like in this case; with her bizarre circuits she could just about feel the right place for the sizable tool instead… trying to navigate with braille was not much fun. ”Alright, now… about ten minutes, and we’ll be done. Err, once I get this thing working…” mumbled the lady, once again talking to herself more than her compatriots – not that Atlas was in any position to listen in the first place. Running her hands over the controls of the machine, Natasha eventually found her bearings and got the thing whirring away; all kinds of funky radars and whatnot poking out and about… in the meantime, the blonde just slouched against the pillar; seeming exhausted by the exercise. Suffice to say, fitness was not her strong point.

As Atlas went launching straight towards the pack descending the cliffs, he would be met with a chorus of unsettling howls – well, maybe flying straight into the mass of shadowy hounds in the midst of their territory wasn’t the most ideal solution to the situation. Especially with all those notes on them being ‘extremely aggressive’ an all that. In any case, there was now a flock of black bullets heading for the ‘gross amalgamation’; their shadows seeming to sweep around the tall trees like water rather than any earthly beasts.

There were at least ten of the beings; but only seven headed for Atlas – the other were intent on protecting their mass of mana, feeling the presence of an obvious oddity near its centre… in seconds, they left Natasha’s hair fluttering with their speed. And yet – they swept straight by her. Instead, their natural target was Mordred; the unnatural intruder within their domain. The range of Shades attacked like fusions of beast and weapon; shadows forming serrated edges as they passed their targets, while shark-like fangs protruded from their wolfish heads – if they could even be called heads, with how vague their beings were.

Intercepting the spirits that seperated from the pack to attack the Master, Mordred all but vanishes, leaving a crater in her wake, as she attacks them. The actual process of destroying the creatures was simple, inelegant, and effective. It seemed the creatures were powerful enough that a single slash from Clarent wasn't enough to split it in two, but the resistance allowed her to use her prana to push off from the creatures, dealing horrendous damage to all of them. Then, wish a swing of her blade and an explosion of prana, a concentration of prana flies off Clarent, striking them all and finishing the job her first swings started.

However, it was clear that wasn't all the creatures, but it seemed that the other Servant, if he could still be called such at this point, was able to effectively dispatch his own foes. Good. She didn't like being held back by weaklings, especially those with the temerity to take the vanguard position over her. If he couldn't hold his own and dispose of trash immediately, then...a version of her who lacked her experiences in Chaldea might have killed him herself. In any event, she was glad that the companion she had was not only skilled, but, in spite of his bluster, knew his proper place.

"Master. Atlas is creating a diversion to draw the beasts in on himself." Such tactics were easy to spot...in her war against Arthur's forces, Mordred had made use of them herself, sacrificing pawns to lure greater forces into ambush. It was troubling that a heroic spirit of his obvious caliber would be willing to be treated as a pawn...but perhaps he felt that he could handle an unending amount of those beasts. She eventually settled on that idea. It wasn't as if they were difficult opponents, after all.

Noticing that Natasha had the device set down, Mordred blinks under her helmet. "Master, is the device in an appropriate location?" Considering the work, she could only assume so. "Is there anything I can help with, aside from protecting you?" Her struggles with the device were clear. "We must make every second of Lancer-Caster-Saber's diversion count. Otherwise, it will simply be wasted effort...but I likely do not need to tell you this." She trails off, looking back towards the forest. She's fortunate for the helmet and armor...she might have looked somewhat sheepish without it.