>>4629759
>Take the shot later

>>4629759
>Take the shot later

>>4629759
>>Screw this lady, I'm gonna ram him!

>>4629759
>Take the shot later

>>4629759
>>Take the shot now

>>4629759
>Take the shot later

>>4629759
>Take the shot later

Last thread it was mentioned that we could have gotten Assassin Slendy as our servant instead of Marisa.....in that scenario, who would replace Gene then? Since I don’t think fiction can have both Assassin and Brawler at the same time. That is presuming Slendy does go into fiction and not like Lore.

>>4631939
Assassin and Brawler are very near class containers to each other. Gene was summoned, Brawler ursurped Assassin.

Wordlessly, I wait for the second chance, take a deep breath, nd dive low, buzzing Lancer's Master with peppered shots. He points his hand in return, black sphered rocketeding from his fingers in a widespread barrage. It's easy enough to dodge him, and I keep peppering his position to force him back into the alleyway with his Servant. Gene picks up his Master and dives from the broom.

And that's when I really get to shine. With my speed and uncanny dodge, I harry the Master constantly, forcing him to watch me as Gene closes in on Lancer. His spear seems always land some kind of blow - but Gene slaps it away into a graze every time, drumming on Lancer's armor with flurries of blows as I push the Master closer and closer to the fighting.
"Easy, easy, ze~!" I laugh as I sweep in low, a few of the shots barely deflected by his own as he growls.

"Two-bit magic packets like that, and you call yourself an Archer?!" he shouts.

"Nope!" I wink, laughing as my 'little friends' - left behind him and locked in position - turn and open fire, blasting into his back. He cries in pain. "This isn't danmaku, idiot boy, and you don't get to insult my Master and get away with it." satisfaction wells in my voice as Gene slams his foot onto Lancer's riding lance, leaping into a double-foot kick to the face that sends Lancer right into the wall.

Lancer rises, determination in his eyes, nose broken. His lance glows as he crouches into a low, lunging stance. "This spear kills giants." Lancer states evenly. "You are an equal target."

His Master rises, fury in his features. His Command Spells shine. "LANCER! I BID YOU LISTEN TO MY WORDS!"

"Brawler! I command you!" her own Command Spells light up in the night.

>Stop the Master from using his Command Spell.
>Stop Lancer from unleashing his Noble Phantasm.
>I can line up the Master and the Lancer in one shot. It's time to let loose with my own Noble Phantasm.
>Something else?

>>4632342
>Stop the Master from using his Command Spell.

>>4632342
>Stop the Master from using his Command Spell.

>>4632342
>Stop the Master from using his Command Spell.

>"This spear kills giants." Lancer states evenly. "You are an equal target."
If Gene grovels to make himself look weaker and throw off Lancer's attack I'm going to die of laughter.

>>4632342
>Stop the Master from using his Command Spell.

>>4632348
>>4632394
>>4632659
>>4632997
"YOUR LEGEND-" he's interrupted by a boot directly to his mouth, sending him sprawling.

"My Giant-Slaying Lance! It is time! Pierce the foe before me without error!" The jousting lance in Lancer's arms flashes with gold, and Gene holds up a hand to stop his Master. Something about him seems to believe he can handle this. With confidence, even as Lance rears back his arm, and takes aim...

Gene drops to both knees. As the Lance rockets for his face, Gene grits his teeth and slams his hands together, catching the lance between his palms. A ripple of force sends bits of debris flying about the arena, and the ground beneath the two cracks with the collision's force. Gene holds the lance's shaking point inches from his face, not giving any ground.

"So that's your Noble Phantasm!" he shouts over the rumbling sound. "A can't-miss shot at anyone with better stats than you." Gene rises, though it's a hell of an effort. "Hate to tell you this, old man." he grunts, "But perfect accuracy don't mean shit..." he rolls to one side, the point of the jousting lance slicing across his cheek as Lancer is brought close. Too close.

Gene gets a smile I've only seen a few times. Usually on a certain nasty old lady.

"My turn. My arm..."

The kid Master stands up, fear in his eyes, command spells shining, but he gets decked in the face for his trouble. If he's going to be that obvious, he might as well not try. "My arm..." the kid scrambles not away from the fight, but towards it, "My arm..."

"Lancer, we're retreating!"

"And flee a noble duel? For shame. I shall face him in full!" Lancer states.

"Lancer!"

"My arm can summon the power of the GOD HAND."

The braces surrounding Gene's arm fly off, spinning away into the walls around us as the formerly contained arm glows with golden light. Too close for the lance, Lancer draws a sword and swings, only for Gene to punch it - and shatter it, wagging a finger with a nasty grin. Lancer falls to his back foot, and this time the angle is wrong for me to interrupt the kid when he finally fires off his command spell.

"Lancer, I command you: Summon your trusty mount and flee this fight! We can't possibly win!"
Lancer grimaces, raising his hand to his face and whistling. From nowhere comes a horse, at first seeming to be an ancient nag, a toast rack with legs, but as soon as Lancer swings onto it, it fills with mighty muscle and launches away, galloping into the dark of night. Gene swings his arm in an arc, but the golden shockwave goes wide, slicing through a fire hydrant. He snaps his fingers in frustration as the brace returns to his arm.
"Damnit!"

>Give chase! There's no way that horse can outpace Marisa Kirisame!
>Grab Gene - we're going for a car... er... Broom and horse chase?
>Ah, well, we tried. Back to the drawing board?
>Something else?

>>4634491
>Grab Gene - we're going for a car... er... Broom and horse chase?
Gene is just too fucking BASED.

>>4634491
>Grab Gene - we're going for a car... er... Broom and horse chase?

>>4634491
>Grab Gene - we're going for a car... er... Broom and horse chase?
LETS GO

>>4634491
>Grab Gene - we're going for a car... er... Broom and horse chase?

We have the advantage and made the master use up one of his command seals

>>4635910
>>4635022
>>4634592
>>4634586

"Get on!" I zip past Gene, picking him up by the collar and tossing him on to the broom as I hop up and ride it with my feet. "And hold on." I grin, leaning down a little. Here's a little secret for all the kids at home, ze.
I don't need the broom. I never really did. But... A good witch has to follow some aesthetics, right? As soon as Gene is on and holding the broom, I feel the air behind me whipcrack in protest as I compel the broom forth and around the corner, Gene letting out a sound of nausea as we approach Lancer.

Lancer is using the Noble Phantasm from his Rider incarnation - unlocked through the use of a command spell. It must be his trusty steed. In truth, it's a harmless old nag, little more than a toaster rack with legs, but as he is now, as the ideal, it's a challenge to catch up and keep up.
"So you seek to challenge me again?" Lancer asks, as we pull up beside him. "I've no idea how long this mount shall last, but until she fade, let us joust!"

"Wait, joust? But I don't have a-"

"Got your lance right here, sister. Get behind me." Gene stands, shakily, then more sure. "You sure about this, old man? Your Master going to try and bail again?"

"THe risk of that is minimal." Lancer says, "I shall ride ahead. I assume that you understand what I ask?" his Master is slouched over the saddle, tied down and unconscious.

"We charge at each other like a couple of idiots and try to knock each other off, right?"

A sigh from the old knight.
"More or less, I suppose. Now, to the contest!"
How the- The old horse gallops ahead, to the end of the road, and Lancer sets the glowing spear while Gene leans down, fist pointed forth.
"I'm going to unleash my God Hand at the last second." he states. "While it's out, it doesn't matter if he hits: My defenses-"
"Are impregnable, I get it, ze."

Still... It's my broom.

>Let's humor the old man and do this fair and square.
>Fuck this: Go low and shoot out the legs from his mount.
>Screw this whole mess: Unleash our Noble Phantasm.
>Something else?

>>4636703
>>Let's humor the old man and do this fair and square.

>"While it's out, it doesn't matter if he hits: My defenses-"
>"Are impregnable, I get it, ze."
MY STYLE IS IMPETUOUS

>>4636721
He was actually supposed to say the line last update, but I forgot to put it in like a fool. Gene just has bad luck when I'm typing.

>>4636703
>>Let's humor the old man and do this fair and square.

>>4636703
>Let's humor the old man and do this fair and square

>>4636703
>Let's humor the old man and do this fair and square.

>>4636703
>Fuck this: Go low and shoot out the legs from his mount.

>>4637281
>>4637168
>>4636917
>>4636721

We launch at each other.

That lance... In these conditions, in this specific context, something tells me it's not to be trifled with, ze. I prepare to zip out of the way, but Gene has other plans. He closes his eyes, a look of some sadness on his face.
"You were alright, old man. So, I'm sorry."
Probably I'm the only one who heard him. Probably everyone involved knew we were going to cheat, one way or another. "Keep him tied up, Archer!" he adds, leaping from the broom just in time, while I roll under the lance. Shock registers on Lancer's face as Gene lands behind him, tearing away the binding ropes, picking up the child Master. "Sorry, sir, but I'm taking this." he says, leaping away - likely back towards his Master. Lancer wheels about to try and chase, but that's when the Command Spell gives out, dumping him on the road.

And as he gets up, I pepper him with a storm of minor shots, kicking up a cloud of dust as he raises one arm to shield his eyes.
"I really admired you, ze. Man of La Mancha."

Don Quixote levels his lance.
"Then allow me to chase the vagabond who has escaped with my charge."

"Sorry. We're in an agreement to settle a dispute with him. He insulted my Master, and so we're going to have a chat with him. You've already lost, Lancer. It's just a matter of time. Please, do the honorable thing and properly surrender." I land, broom in hand, standing off with him. He wouldn't dare strike a defenseless girl, right?

"I see you are not a foul wench, merely misguided. But I ask again - stand aside. I must see to my charge!"

"And I say again: He has business with us!"

The tension creeps between us, and Lancer makes the first move, charging forth with the lance tucked underarm and glowing. Damn! I should have stayed high, ze. But then he'd chase Gene, and possibly ruin the whole operation by finding the hidey-hole. I have to stall him... Here, and now.

>Going to have to rely on the old martial arts.
>Got to keep him in place with danmaku! There's no one here, I can go wild!
>Just dodge, staying in the way. No need to attack - he'll probably be fading in short order.
>Something else?

>>4639429
>Got to keep him in place with danmaku! There's no one here, I can go wild!

>>4639429
>Got to keep him in place with danmaku! There's no one here, I can go wild!

>>4639429
>Got to keep him in place with danmaku! There's no one here, I can go wild!

>>4639491
>>4639622
>>4640510

It's time to unleash something special!
Not a Noble Phantasm. Not a secret weapon. Much like how any sword-based Noble Phantasm needs its name evoked or it's just a 'sword', my spread-fire is just any old magic until I evoke the name of my real attack. With that in mind, I fly back and up from the ground, holding my wand in hand.

"If thou shall block my path, then I fear thy life is forfeit. My charge is in danger, and thou in my path shall be struck down!" he plants his feet and then launches forth, "For this lance shall never miss its target!"

Little does he know... I've stood in the rain and dodged all the drops.

I spin out of the way, and I feel the passing breeze of the Lance - only to spin back in front of him, forcing him back with blast after blast of magic - explosions from my wand that ripple the air and shove him. His eyes narrow as the lance of his strikes open air again and again. Only... It's getting closer each time. At first there's clearance, but each time he swings, it grows even more accurate, until I can feel it disturb my hair, skirt, and hat, making my heart jump each time.

Is he actually disrupting my dodge skill?! Or is the 'rule' of 'always hits' slightly stronger than my Skill?
"Your magic shall not save you forever, witch." Don Quixote states with relish. Now I've been forced to back away with each dodge, rather than back and forth from side to side. There's not much road left before I start backing into a building. "Yield, and stand aside! I cannot spare you if you continue to delay me!"

Hold on a little longer, Archer. I'm on my way.

Master is awake! He's awake!

===(More)===

When you get right down to it.

When you look at the most basic level of things.

The iconic magical circle used by any magus of any time period does one thing, primarily. It delineates an "inside", where a work takes place, and an "outside", where the magic cannot go until the work is done. The proper art of circles, long refined and practiced among all families, is one of the major fundamentals of magecraft, right alongside an understanding of Mana, Prana, and one's own limitations and Circuits.

Why am I telling you all this?

Because I have no idea how these circles actually work. I can feel my magic circuits being pushed to their limits - perhaps a little further - each time my thumb presses against my middle finger. I dare not snap my fingers in actuality. I know what happens when I do.

First of all, there's a lot of pain, as the stressed Magic Circuits actually fire off - the difference between hearing a gun in a movie and shooting one. Then, the magic that runs out of my hand - the hand that I snap my fingers with - rides the sonic wave. When it reaches my mental destination, it snaps a circle in place - defining the "inside" and the "outside".

The reason that this hurts so much, despite my decent-quality circuits and the high number of them, is that this magic is so absurd that I hesitate to use it often.

It's Time. The enemy of all archivists is now chained to my hands. One hand makes bubbles where time passes slower - everything outside the bubble speeds by for the occupant, while to outsiders they seem almost frozen. That's my left hand. My right hand makes time pass faster - everything outside slows down, and to them, the interior is much, much faster. The zones I've made are very small - maybe a foot or so wide - and my aim is terrible. And they only last about half a minute (outside-time).

But if they touch something, that something is effected. Not the whole planet, no, but if someone steps in one, for example, their whole body is effected.

I'm on my way to Archer now. Locked in combat with another Servant, she's probably fighting to keep what she assumes is me, helpless, safe. I've got to release her from those mental restrictions, and prevent Don Quixote from reuniting with his Master!

As I skid along the wet pavement - taking a turn in these old shoes a little too hard - I can see the flashes of battle up ahead.

What should be my first move? I can't overuse my new power - and I barely understand how it works. Even so...

>Slow down Don Quixote.
>Speed up Archer.
>Speed up myself.
>Something else?

>>4640619
>Slow down Don Quixote.

>>4640619
>Slow down Don Quixote.
We've got a bigger bubble to work with, plus Archer will be too busy dodging Lancer for us to be able to speed her up.

>>4640619
>Slow down Don Quixote.

>>4640619
>Slow down Don Quixote.

>>4640619
>Slow down Don Quixote.

>>4640619
>>Speed up myself.
Couldn't we speed ourselves up, making it easier to tag the Don with the slowdown effect? Or is abusing both effects at once the sort of thing that will lead to horrible unintended side effects?

>>4642141
>>4641787
>>4640799
>>4640764
>>4640629

I raise my arm, feeling the magic circuits fill and then overflow, the length of my arm rippling with power as I snap my fingers - once, twice, thrice - bubbles of mis-time appearing around Lancer. His Lance passes through one, and the distortion of light wraps about his body, slowing him down rapidly. He's not stopped, but it's like he's in molasses. Frustration begins to register on his face as he turns towards me, but Archer is fast to react - rushing beside me, picking me up and seating me on her broom as she zips out of range.

My arm tingles, surges of energy racing up and down it. It feels like it's fallen asleep, all tingles until feeling returns.

The bubble of off-time fades, Lancer watching us. He lowers his lance, then turns to where he had been aiming to go and trudges off.

"It's up to you, Master." Archer says. "In my opinion, Brawler's Master was ready to betray you, ze, but by the letter of your agreement..."

"By the letter of it, I should go help her. She's trying to remove his Command Spells by force, and that's no simple task if you want to keep them."

"So...?"

>Chase Lancer, keep harrying him until Brawler shows up?
>Get ahead of Lancer.
>Brawler's Master has made her bed. Time for her to sleep in it.
>Something else?

So sorry for the delays. You never realize how little time you have until you need it.

>>4645936
>Chase Lancer, keep harrying him until Brawler shows up?

>>4645936
>Chase Lancer, keep harrying him until Brawler shows up?

>>4645936
>Chase Lancer, keep harrying him until Brawler shows up?

"...Keep harrying him. Slow him down as best you can without putting yourself at risk."

"Understood!" she launches forward, peppering him with wide-spread shots that slow him down - eventually he's stopped, forced to cease to avoid stepping entirely out of cover. "He's pinned, Master! We got him!"

"Damnit!" Gene's standing on a building a good ways away. "Why didn't you idiots run away!"

"What-" confusion floods me. Why does Gene look so regretful? Why does Marisa look so panicked? I reach for my magic in reflex, and in a moment like stumbling in a dream, I realize I can't reach it. It's like I'm suddenly deafened. The air becomes stale and the world goes grayscale, as myself and Marisa begin to fall. I reach for her, turning. It's not that far up, I lie to myself, as we plummet to the ground. I feel my shoulder dislocate as I take the landing, then my collarbone groans under the stress. The wind leaves my body as I hear a gun go off.

The grayscale intensifies, and I can see Lancer, hunched over, his form warping and wobbling. He's muttering to himself about failure, reaching for his lance - only for Gene to kick it away from him. He's conflicted, holding on to something wrapped in cloth. ...Why is his God Hand missing? All that's there is a stump.

"Such a cowardly plan..." he growls, to no one. Distantly, I can see Brawler's Master stepping from her hideaway, dragging a bloody bag and tossing it into a corner, her other arm cradling a long shotgun.

I can't move. Archer's leg is twisted at an unnatural angle.

Brawler walks up to his Master and points at us, then turns away, shaking his head.

>Plea to Brawler. This clearly isn't what he wants.
>Plea to Brawler's Master. The agreement... what about the agreement?
>Plea to Lancer. There must be something we can say to restore him to confidence.
>Use a Command Spell to restore Archer's power. [3/3 remaining]
>Something else...

>>4648793
>Plea to Lancer. There must be something we can say to restore him to confidence.
Is he going to dishonor Dulcinea by giving up? Remember her and steel your heart with courage!

>>4648793
>Plea to Lancer. There must be something we can say to restore him to confidence.

>>4648793
>Plea to Brawler. This clearly isn't what he wants.
GENE PLEASE NOT LIKE THIS YOU'RE TOO BASED

>>4648793
>>Use a Command Spell to restore Archer's power. [3/3 remaining]
We have em' for a reason.

>>4648793
>Plea to Brawler's Master. The agreement... what about the agreement?

>>4648793
>Use a Command Spell to restore Archer's power. [3/3 remaining]
Marisa should be able to kill Gene and his master with her NP. We might get a Godhand too.

>Use a Command Spell to restore Archer's power. [3/3 remaining]

File: FIRING.jpg (348 KB, 900x1050)

348 KB JPG

>>4650283
>>4650243
>>4649338
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4DQw3NaEmGw

"Archer." I whisper. "With this Command Spell, I command you to return to full power and destroy Brawler's master."

The flash of red light blasts away the greyscale as golden light envelops Archer, who stands. She's... taller than before. A shadowy, barely-there ghost of someone with black hair is helping her up, standing beside her as she fixes her hat. She looks around, as if to confirm these are the only people nearby. High-fiving the phantom, she draws the octogonal device from a hidden pocket, a confident grin on her face.

There's nothing to say to these betrayers, as she raises the device to her lips once, tossing it into the air and leaping high, catching it at its apex. Again, someone is there beside her, blonde, with short hair - their hands both holding the device as it crackles with energy.
"This is it, Master! The best I have! Love Colored Master Spark, True Form: MALICE CANNON!"

A fountain of light, focused by hundreds of small magical circles which themselves form a larger circle, cannons down from above. Gene whips the cover off the God Hand and slams it into place as he stands beside his Master, diverting the energy around him with golden light.

I can barely see into the island that the two of them stand in, but Gene turns to his Master and says something - I can't hear it over the thunderous roar of power. The column of light must be at least a dozen feet wide.

He drops his hand - fear and betrayal crosses his master's face - and the light engulfs them both. The beam holds for perhaps a few more seconds, then sputters out, leaving a smoking crater that's surprisingly shallow. Nothing remains of the other Master or of Gene.

Marisa lands beside me, helping me up - carefully - and shouldering me to help me walk out of the effect of Lancer's noble phantasm.

"What about him, Master?"

>Lancers have Independent Action. We should eliminate him now - for both his sake and ours.
>It's time to leave. He won't chase or bother us.
>We should raid that bitch's hovel.
>We need to get back home.
>Something else?

>>4651601
>We should raid that bitch's hovel.

>No someone with green hair and no legs
I suppose it's fate at this point.

>>4651601
>Nothing remains of the other Master or of Gene.
And dropped.

>>4651822
I can't believe we got cockteased with Gene and then he jobbed.

>>4651601
>We should raid that bitch's hovel.

>Gene decides to drop his Godhand shield and off himself and his Master
He made up for his betrayal in the end, he was too based for this world.

>>4651601
>We should raid that bitch's hovel.

>>4651601
>We should raid that bitch's hovel.

>>4651601
>Lancers have Independent Action. We should eliminate him now - for both his sake and ours.

>>4651601
>Lancers have Independent Action. We should eliminate him now - for both his sake and ours.
He's already wounded so we should take care of him before he finds another master.

>>4651601
>Lancers have Independent Action. We should eliminate him now - for both his sake and ours.
I thought that was for Archers...
But yeah, leaving him like that is just gonna be an annoyance.

>>4651601
>>Lancers have Independent Action. We should eliminate him

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>4651783
>>4651908
>>4651932
>>4651969
1

>>4652880
>>4652956
>>4654069
>>4654257
2

File: thechairthechairthechair.jpg (11 KB, 553x311)

11 KB JPG

>>4655228
"Take me into her hidey-hole. We can leave him to himself." I say. The anger hasn't dissipated yet - Somehow the victory feels hollow.
"She had to go." Archer says quietly.
"...Are you taller?"
"Not important right now." she replies with a smile, kicking the door into the room. It flies into the room, then falls down. A chair at the far end is all that is left - materials I'd seen in passing, workshop tools, either moved or destroyed in anticipation of retribution. The bed is gone, even. I move out from Archer's support, stepping to the chair.

The chair.

Bindings on the front legs, the armrests, the neck. The scent of fresh blood. Circles all over the floor, a discarded pair of pliers. "She never targeted him because of his slight against me, or because he was an asshole." the realization strikes me. "She went after him because he was small."

Good lord, there's teeth on the floor. I feel bile rising in my throat. My father's voice at my shoulder.

Look at it, boy. This is what mages really are. This is why we just put the books away. Do you really want to be like them? So prestigious, so noble, so cruel?
"This is what mages are like here?" Archer asks quietly, fingers touching the ornate wood of the chair. We're not better than them, if that's what you think I'm saying. We're just the book-keepers. Archivists. We make those terrible things matter. There's no redeeming or fixing the system, boy.
"Yeah." I rise, taking a breath, feeling twinges of pain along my back and collar. "But at least when my colleagues did things like this, they got something out of it and recorded it, and we advanced the Craft. But this..." I kick the chair over, out of the bolts, breaking the legs. "This is pointless. I hated the boy, I hated what he was and what he said, but... This..."

They're monsters, boy. They need to be. The way to the Root is a castle built of the dead. But at the very least, the magus should build something when they kill.

"It's an insult to the Craft. Pointless pain for pointless energy directed to a pointless task." I spit the word like a curse. Pointless. "If I was someone of any pull in the community, things like this wouldn't happen. But the boy's right, I'm just some librarian..."

Archer's hand on my shoulder, kneeling down to look me in the eyes.
"So what are you gonna do about it, ze?" she asks.

The question strikes me.
>That's not important right now. First, the war.
>Once the war's over, I need to see an end to this.
>After all this, I think I need to dismantle the Clock Tower.
>Something else...

>>4655274
>After all this, I think I need to dismantle the Clock Tower.

>>4655274
The chair the chair the chair the chair the chair
>Once the war's over, I need to see an end to this.

>>4655274
>That's not important right now. First, the war.
God help whoever tries to fuck with Doomguy's Master.

>When you realize why Gene's Godhand was deattached.
That's fucked up.

>>4655814
Actually, it's because all NPs and magic become nonfunctional in the realm of hyper-reality that Quixote generates when he is 'broken'. So Gene's magical transplant divine arm just falls off. Buuuuut I would love to hear your guess, if it's not that!

>>4655274
>After all this, I think I need to dismantle the Clock Tower.

>>4655274
>Once the war's over, I need to see an end to this.
There are mages outside of the clock tower so we need a miracle to fix this shit. But posting their entire library onto /x/ sounds like fun.
>>4655835
Not that anon but I also thought that was because of his Master. That's why I thought we could get it if they died but I'm pretty sure this ended up better for our power scaling.

>>4655835
That's literally the most retarded shit I've ever read.
And you're retarded for writing it.
As are you retarded for unironically having MAGI BAD lead into an unironic potential character motivation of destroying one of the few things regulating magi.
You clearly don't understand absolutely anything about this setting which was already clear from how little you understand True Magic, Command Spells and Heroic Spirits, you wiki surfing smoothbrain.
Why the fuck are all the fate quests on /qst/ so shitty? The ones on other sites tend to be alright.

>>4656602
>Why the fuck are all the fate quests on /qst/ so shitty?
because players like you exist. don't like it, don't read it. unironically.

>>4655274
>That's not important right now. First, the war.

>>4655274
>Once the war's over, I need to see an end to this

>>4656725
This

>>4655386
>>4656517
>>4658056

"Once the war's over, I need to see an end to this." I gesture vaguely at the dismantled workshop, the blood. "I have to do something, but... We have work to do, first." I crick my neck, standing to full height. My arms surge with energy, making me wince as their energies arc along my skin, making my arms twitch a little, briefly going numb in spots before recovering. I slap my cheeks. Right.

Focus.

After all, the woman behind this specific atrocity is dead, along with her Servant. That's two out of the running in one go - worth it for a single Command Spell, I think. I check outside, and the bloody bag - along with Lancer - are gone. No doubt he went to bury the boy himself.

That leaves us with the better part of a day. We've just defeated two Masters - rather, we watched one die, and the other fail to build Servant rapport and show why it's important. And in the meantime we put on one hell of a light show. Who knows who saw that? So we need a plan.

>We should return home ASAP and fortify for the moment. Someone is gonna come sniffing...
>...Which is why we should set a trap right here and catch whoever comes.
>On the other hand, we could just hide among the citizens for now...
>...Or go hunting for a fight.
>Something else?

>>4658196
>We should return home ASAP and fortify for the moment. Someone is gonna come sniffing...
Probably ought to examine our arms in greater detail as well

>>4658196
>We should return home ASAP and fortify for the moment. Someone is gonna come sniffing...

>>4658196
>...Which is why we should set a trap right here and catch whoever comes.

>>4658196
>We should return home ASAP and fortify for the moment. Someone is gonna come sniffing...

>>4658421
>>4658256
>>4658197
"We're going home." I sigh, rubbing my forehead. a particularly large surge of energy sends my arm into a convulsion as energy arcs from near my shoulder to my wrist.

I think using these might have been a bit dangerous. "Archer?"

She steps up beside me, snaps her fingers, and a broom falls into her hands, which she mounts with ease - and I sit down on it behind her. She belatedly realizes we're still indoors, navigates carefully out the building, then straight up until we're hard to see - heading for the forest. It's cold, the air is a little thin, and I feel a tension in my arms that is slowly building. My shoulders are starting to ache, too. We come down at my home and I immediately fall on my bed, exhausted. I'd intended to enhance the defenses, but something inside of me is deeply drained.

Archer looks up at me as I feel consciousness slip away.

---

This is getting to be a very bad habit, ze.

>We need to find someone who we can both trust and who might understand Master's condition.
>>Fictional Caster, the boy?
>>Solomon?
>>Some other magus?
>Maybe a mushroom potion will help?
>Maybe he's just tired. Let sleeping dogs lie.
>Something else?

>>4659908
>>Maybe a mushroom potion will help?

>>4659908
>Maybe a mushroom potion will help?

>>4659908
Btw, you didn't archive the first thread?

>>4659908
>>Solomon?

File: bT561.jpg (121 KB, 551x551)

121 KB JPG

>>4660074
>http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/4591534/

>>4660240
How the hell did I fail to find it.

>>4659908
>>Fictional Caster, the boy?

>>4659908
>Fictional Caster, the boy?

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>4659975
>>4660051
1

>>4660392
>>4660365
2

File: Ei2owlFXkAMl-lD.jpg (144 KB, 1433x1079)

144 KB JPG

>>4663291
Welp. I should really follow my own advice more often. Gimme a bit, folks, I have to do some background rolls and shit.

Rolled 1 (1d6)

>>4663297
First of all, we need to see what kind of potion Marisa makes.

>>4663307
And now we write the update!

It isn't hard to find mushrooms when you're an expert.

The day is long, and by the time the sun sets, the bubbling cauldron has reduced the mixtures from a off-yellow fluid into a golden syrup, which you mix with a selection of various fluids - water, blood, sugar-water, a bit of honey, a touch of tree sap. It's the same every time, you never know why the results come out so wild. Carefully, you pour the potion into several bottles the size of your fists, they shimmer like liquid gold, but are mysteriously as viscous as water. They smell a little like burnt sugar.

That's three potions of... uh. Let's hope they're healing?
With care you rouse Master from sleep, helping him drink in a deep haze. Once he drinks the last of it, he rolls over and passes out again. A long day's work should have left you tired - but you're as alert as ever. Part of being a Servant, ze. With little else to do, you take to the skies, watching the forest from high above in spirit form.

- - - -

The dream is much more vivid this time.

Something is wrong about this 'incident', you feel it in your bones. You and your close friend fly over the horizon, to the 'edge'. Someone has found a way in - not just one someone, but several someones. They bear a seal on their shoulders and their chests. The dreaming Master feels this symbol is deeply familiar but cannot place it.
The men hold firearms, sophisticated ones. Not the old rifles that sometimes pop up in the human village, the sort that only see much use in hunting the massive boars that sometimes threaten the village. These have magazines and cartridges, no wood parts, just sleek black of death. They carry strange crates, about four feet cubes. Even as you watch, a man approaches with a sack and another opens one of the boxes - the sack is emptied and you see a flash of blue hair - a bit of crystal. The box is sealed and taken away.

Reimu rockets at them, faster than you ever thought she could go...

- - - -

I awaken with a gasp, and after the initial shock, I realize most of the numbness has passed. There is indeed a soft tension in my Circuits - like humming wires. But it comes and goes. Morning has risen, so I go about making breakfast.

What should I focus on today?

>These arms don't make any sense. We need to seek out an expert we can trust.
>We need to go hunting.
>We should stay here, reinforce the barrier, and hunker down. It's far too dangerous out there.
>Something else?

>>4664899
I hope Marisa's dreams are double fictional.
>These arms don't make any sense. We need to seek out an expert we can trust.

>We should stay here, reinforce the barrier, and hunker down. It's far too dangerous out there.

>>4664899
>These arms don't make any sense. We need to seek out an expert we can trust.

>>4664899
>These arms don't make any sense. We need to seek out an expert we can trust.

>>4664899
>These arms don't make any sense. We need to seek out an expert we can trust.

>>4664899
>These arms don't make any sense. We need to seek out an expert we can trust.

Rolled 90 (1d100)

>>4666052
>>4665252
>>4665052
>>4664958
>>4664934
>Rolling for encounter.

Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>4668030
>specifying...

"Marisa." I don;t have to really call, as such. I just speak to the empty air, and she materializes.

"Hm?"

"We're heading out. I'm thinking we should try to find a magus we can trust with these arms. I need another set of eyes on them. I have a few ideas, I'm thinking Fictional Caster's master, or maybe Solomon. We'll head for the latter first, see who we run into. We'll fly high, to avoid anyone spotting us. Sound right?"

"Sure, Master." she spins the broom in one hand, and we set out. The friendly skies welcome us again, and I find myself relaxing in the cool air - until I look to the horizon and spot something in the distance.
"Archer, what is that?" I ask, and she leans forward, squinting.
"I think it's a dragon, ze." she says without much concern. " 's red? Oh, I think maybe it spotted us! 'S a Rider, Master, I can see some guy on its back, like! Not much detail, though."

"A real Dragon?" I ask, near to panic.
"Naw, probably fiction grail. Still, never good to underestimate a dragon."
Well, what should we do?

>Screw finding the mage kid. Barrel for Solomon.
>Screw Solomon. Get low and find the mage boy!
>Screw this, we have the advantage of range, speed, and maybe even power! Let's take them on!
>Something else?

>>4668048
>Screw finding the mage kid. Barrel for Solomon.

>>4668048
>Screw finding the mage kid. Barrel for Solomon.

>>4668048
>Screw finding the mage kid. Barrel for Solomon.

>"I think it's a dragon, ze." she says without much concern. " 's red? Oh, I think maybe it spotted us! 'S a Rider, Master, I can see some guy on its back, like! Not much detail, though."
>"Naw, probably fiction grail. Still, never good to underestimate a dragon."
>Someone summoned Caim
WE ARE SO FUCKED
https://youtu.be/55JU-r08ULY

>>4668393
Oh fuck.
Well, at least his Master will end up fucked too.

>>4668048
>Screw finding the mage kid. Barrel for Solomon.

"Th-that's no ordinary dragon. That's Angelus and Caim."

"Who?"

An orange glow fills the air about Angelus' head. "MOVE IT!"
Fire rains around us, fizzling shortly after missing as Marisa weaves through a world of fire and smoke. It's strange, the speeds we're going and the turns we make should probably have left my brain behind a while ago - but I guess that's part of Marisa's power. The dragon belches more and more fire, a labyrinth of red, orange, and black, a maelstrom of fireballs that chase and even spells.

But Marisa dodges them all. Faster and faster, her Skill compensates with handling where speed lacks, and vice versa sometimes, sending the projectiles going awry or fizzling out before they even reach us.
"Seekers! You're a cheater, cheater, ze!"
"We need to get away to safe haven, Archer!"
"Hm? But I'm having so much fun..." she sighs as her maneuvers force two fireballs to meet with a cataclysmic detonation that is more force than sound.
"The tower! Solomon's tower!"

A pause in speech while she spirals around the contrail of one of the fireballs, laughing. Then, "Yessir~, don't look back, sir~"

She turns around, standing on the broom, and holds up the casting implement with a grin. In a flash, the air behind us glows brilliantly white, crackling with heat-based ionization, before Marisa sits back on the broom and we sail into Solomon's headquarters. Despite the air battle that had taken place just outside, no windows are broken. We enter, and I look back where we were. THe dragon is flying away, and not towards me home. Thank god. I nearly fall into one of the chairs in the lobby, my brain getting used to not rocketing around at god-only-knows-what speeds. The room seems to stretch out a little.
"You okay, ze?"

>Please don't toy with the fire-breathing, spellcasting, giant lizard again.
>Can you keep that up again later, or was it starting to catch on to you?
>I need to have a little not-goes-fast time, thanks.
>I'm partnered with a maniac.
>Something else.

>>4670797
>I need to have a little not-goes-fast time, thanks.

>>4670797
>>Can you keep that up again later, or was it starting to catch on to you?

>>4670797
>Can you keep that up again later, or was it starting to catch on to you?

>>4670797
>I'm partnered with a maniac.

>>4670797
>Can you keep that up again later, or was it starting to catch on to you?
>I need to have a little not-goes-fast time, thanks.

>>4670797
>>Can you keep that up again later, or was it starting to catch on to you?
>>I need to have a little not-goes-fast time, thanks.

"Would that fire ever have caught you?" I ask, relaxing in the chair.

"Eventually. My Dodge isn't perfect, and it doesn't last forever. I start with everything missing - but eventually most things miss, and totally sure hits become grazes. Sooner or later those layers go away too. But I can last a good while, ze! Long enough to catch them by surprise."

"Well, at least we didn't get hit." I grumble. Another stupidly powerful enemy. Can I get one break here? Just the one? The receptionist at the desk tilts her head at me, and I stand up carefully.
"Sorry, can you see if Solomon is currently available?" I ask. "I need his input on a matter of The Art." a lifetime of dropping those capital letters into place makes it easy.

"I'll send the message along, but he may not respond immediately." the receptionist states. "...While you are here, you are under Mr. King's protection, but do not abuse it." she says evenly. "We have a Ruler on the premises and are not afraid to use it." her eyes add, 'whatever the crazy old man means by that.'.

Right. A Ruler. No doubt he is using the History grail for that to help officiate the matter. A roar shakes the windows, and a clap of thunder. I sigh, crossing my arms.

Looks like we have a bit of a wait.

>Explore the ground floor.
>Look outside.
>Talk to Marisa (About what?)
>Something else?

>>4675622
>Explore the ground floor.

>>4675622
>Explore the ground floor.
Get the hell away from the windows, wouldn't put it past Caim to try a drive-by.

>>4675622
>Explore the ground floor.
>Talk to Marisa (About the dream you had. Ask her what the hell happened there)

Page 10, archived just in case

"Let's take a look around." I rise, unsteadily, from the chair, looking around the ground floor. It's practically a museum of his exploits - summoned by a 'fool of a master' in a previous holy grail war, it notates that it involved Odysseus, Atalanta, and several others. Securing his victory, he kills his master and wishes himself into a permanent life within this age. Though, it's all framed as a fiction, part of his own novel series.

"He even got statues of his demons." I say, arching a brow at a massive owl with long legs. After his success, he started a business in shipping and handling - and of course, writing long and overdramatic novels that he publishes and sells himself. How he manages to make so much money is somewhat beyond me.

"It seems to me you're willing to come a long way for some simple advice." a new voice calls out. "This sanctuary has a very specific use. Taking advantage of it is quite against the spirit of the whole thing."

It's not Solomon - which means Ruler is here.

Blonde hair. Green eyes. A dark presence to him that makes the air shiver. Rulers are those whose massive charisma and capability allows them to administrate a war. This man stands with hands in his pockets, well-dressed in a yellow suit and a black shirt. A green tie and belt completes the look.
"Oh, I'm not hiding out here, like you said, I'm here seeking mere advice. If he's unavailable in fact, I'll take my leave."
"Even through the fight between Lancer and Rider, out there?" he asks. "I may have to intervene out there soon."
Thunder claps the air, and Ruler frowns, looking around. We both head to the lobby as a man in ornate armor with a cross-spear is launched through the glass doors - flying at the desk. Ruler vanishes briefly, then returns with the receptionist, who is deeply confused as the armored man slams into where she had just been sitting. The desk and counter are ruined as the dragon outside roars mightily.

Ruler sets the woman aside, and there's a three-way mexican standoff between the three...

>END OF THREAD TWO
>Mostly because we're about to bump off the board.

>>4677191
Thanks for running!
Is that a Jojo reference?

>>4677191
Thanks for running dude. Hopefully this quest can survive and y’know.....doesn’t die due to a lack of posters (or because Paradox Reincarator is where all the fate quest posters seem to be)

>>4677541
Low-key I'm thinking of contacting their QM and getting some cross-pollination going. For now, I'm taking a bit of a break because I'm literally passing out constantly when I'm at home. It's to the point where I have to be careful or I fall asleep in my desk chair and boy the ergonomics were not made for that at all.

Might run something lower-key here or elsewhere that isn't Fate, but this quest lives, never fear.

>>4677541
Eh? The quest seems alive enough to me, most quests aren't super active.
Thanks for running.