Finis Chaldea

[Apollymi]

OH. NO. Artoria was clever enough to understand the King of Heroes meaning even without him going into further detail. That being said, the man himself was so amused by the entire situation that he even sat forward on his throne and laughed. He would have Siduri take dictation, to what end? Well, according to the King the record that was supposed to be made was one to do with his conquest of the Queen of Knights and her subsequent rest period thereafter. Siduri's eyes widened, poor girl and why would the King of Heroes bring her into this fray, she'd done nothing to deserve the Queen's ire. The color in Artoria's face hit a maximum peak of reddened color. What was she actually supposed to say to that? Her hand moved and she realized she was unarmed. Yes, violence was her first response and violence she would have. "I will have my weapon back now!" A demand issued by the Queen of Knights when she'd been so nice before now. Siduri could only wonder if she was about to bear witness to the violence of Artoria Pendragon. The Queen of Knights herself on the other hand, was so very confused by this man's forthright nature that she could hardly contain her own thoughts enough to process them. Who actually spoke so freely and why in all humanity was it aimed precisely at her? She needed to be armed. Yes, she realized that being armed against words was not at all conducive to continued conversation, but when one's life was violence a sword in hand calmed the nerves.

Ah, but it seemed before she even received her weapon she was due to receive more unnecessary torture from the King of Heroes. Clothing here was apparently basically optional, she'd gathered that from the amount of random nudity she saw on a day to day basis in the city. Again, she wasn't judging it was a personal matter of comfort that she sought. What was more, there was the claim that the King of Heroes liked what she'd chosen to wear, and wondered if she was displeased. WHAT?! Artoria was nowhere near armed enough to be hit with such a weapon today. Had anyone in her life ever complimented the way she looked before this point? No. She didn't even think much of her own attire at all. But that was a compliment was it not?! "I do not dislike the clothes. What I want, I want for my own comfort, I am not such a tyrant as to tell people about their own clothing choices," she mentioned having turned from outrage to normal in just a second or two if only to help herself along a bit. "Now, if you do not mind. I need my weapon and to go on a walk... before preparing to return back to Camelot," she mentioned her eyes closed for several moments only to open them and stare back at the King of Heroes taking a few steps forward and wait with open hand to take hold of the normal weight of Excalibur once more.

[Bloodedge]

Oh, how would the chaste queen react now? Apparently, she'd do so by demanding the return of her weapon. How absolutely hilarious. It was no secret that he fully intended to bed this woman; that much was a given by his desire to wed her, was it not? The red hue stretched across her face had many implications, all of them good in some way to Gilgamesh. As such, he only laughed more. It had almost become painful by the time his guffawing came to an end, and by that time, Artoria was commenting on her... well, her apparent lack of clothing preference for visual purposes. "And you find comfort in further covering your unmentionables? Such grace you have with every movement; surely there is no chance of a mishap. By all means though, if such a thing were to happen, let it be so in my private quarters. I will allow it."

Again, Artoria spoke of Excalibur. This time was slightly different, as she began to approach the king at his throne. Watching her ascend those stairs made every event of this world thus far worthwhile, all for the sake of imagining her doing so as Queen of Uruk. Again... one day. Alas, the sorrowful moment of parting would soon be upon him. A hand was extended, and it would be filled with the Holy Sword Excalibur. "Very well. I have chosen to allow your rambunctious behavior, so here. As I will soon place part of myself in this hand, I return to you your sword. You may keep the dagger." Naturally, there would only be more of such speech each time they met; today would especially be no exception. There was greatness to this moment of passing, however. In parting moments, there had to be parting words befitting the state of acceptance Gilgamesh reached regarding this woman. "When next we meet, you will have a divine chalice to drink from after a toast to our union. I will tolerate nothing less from the likes of you."

[Apollymi]

The laughter of Gilgamesh at her current state of embarrassment was a thing the Queen of Knights had never heard so freely before. She was not sure, but somehow this man was instantly more tolerable while being in this sort of good mood, though she would not speak on that. The conversation shifted back to this lack of undergarments and she gave a small sigh. Of course, he would say the things he said. And even made the claim that he doubted she could reveal anything accidentally, though he gave her his permission to do so in his private quarters. "The functionality of clothing is equally important, whether I have the grace to avoid incident or not... I cannot imagine being in such a state for very long," she said softly. Truly, the Queen of Knights had an image to uphold and felt that the current level of exposure of her rear would taint that. Perhaps it wouldn't because she'd only ever felt the eyes of the King of Heroes on her so thoroughly, but her image of herself as a person was apparently very different from how the world saw her at large.

So after a few steps she was standing before Gilgamesh, that dagger was in her other hand and she'd intended to hand it back to him. But his words implied he did not wish to take it back from her. Curiosity painted the visage of Artoria as her hand closed around Excalibur. "My actions are never truly rambunctious, King of Heroes. In this case though, I do apologize in advance for the extra clerical duties that will befall you..." she said earnestly. Still her eyes shifted to that dagger in her other hand, she was told she could keep it, and found herself staring at it for a few seconds longer. Arguing about it would change nothing, that much was obvious given the king's attitude. "Thank you, for the dagger then." she said turning on her heel a firm grip on Excalibur. What was this, more words from the King of Heroes. He expected her to come back with her cup in her hand. Oh? He wasn't questioning her resolve or ability at this point, merely making a claim. The smallest upturn of Artoria's lips would take place as her feet were finally placed on the ground again. "Your toleration of the situation not withstanding King of Heroes... that cup is mine." Siduri looked at the Queen of Knights in this moment and knew the King of Heroes had chosen his bride well, whenever that came to pass, she'd happily serve them both. And with that statement alone Artoria went to retrieve her knight from his tasks and do a little spring cleaning before leaving the city of Uruk.

[Bloodedge]

There she went. Moving away from the throne, Artoria Pendragon held fast to her Holy Sword as always. He knew the purpose of her preemptive apology; he'd known all along what she would do when released. For three days, he'd been laughing at it occasionally. Perhaps he'd laugh again once the future became the present? That would be incredible. Just as incredible though, was the conviction with which Artoria spoke of the Holy Grail. She sounded so very much like... him. To lay claim to something before it even existed was his divine privilege, and his alone. Of course, he could extend that right to his betrothed. Yes... it was allowable for her to behave that way.

And so, the king watched his future queen depart, presumably for the final time within the decade unless paths diverged along the way. Even ten years apart would be nothing, though. He'd spend the duration of a decade watching, and maybe, just maybe... he'd visit her in the world below when the Holy Grail reared its head once more. Now that he thought about it, that was a wonderful idea! Who better to great the Queen of Knights as she claimed her rite of ascension, than the king who accepted her into his midst long before the event transpired? Oh, he'd have to get a new suit to wear, or something along those lines. "Fufuhaha! Siduri! When the people come crying over the defiled temples, tell them the world belongs to mankind now, and send them on their way! I've been contemplating the possibilities for some time now, but... perhaps I will give this hope thing a try."

[Apollymi]

Siduri took note of the king's words. Was this truly what the Queen of Knights intended? She'd heard the woman was upset, heard she'd suffered an attempted attack at the hands of a certain vengeful goddess but she'd never expected someone so different, so very human to take on such a task. Cutting off the temple of a God or Goddess was a real way to end their power. With no where to go to, they'd have to migrate or be weakened in Celestia for some time to come. Artoria Pendragon, the blonde haired girl with a face most angelic planned to commit acts of sacrilege no one else had dared. Something about that as an ideal resonated within Siduri. Only a small smirk appeared on her face, beneath her veil, "Of course my King. It shall be done."

Artoria was not a rambunctious child by any means. Instead she was Queen and a woman. She'd decided weeks ago, that no god who allowed such depravity in their ranks deserved worship. She'd decided the goddess who perpetuated the rape of a virgin Queen over a man that woman barely understood, could not call herself a woman, much less one for worship. No. Artoria took unto herself what she always would, responsibility for the state of the world. Just as she'd wrested Albion from the hands of a Usurper, she'd pull mankind from the clutches of false deities. Those who did right by their people, she had no qualms with. The Pharaohs in Egypt were gods incarnate and they were fine individuals. Even Gilgamesh himself, two-thirds a divinity had shown more tact. No. The Queen of Knights had just the word no, to utter in response to atrocities, like the goddess Ishtar. She walked the countryside on her way back down, entering first into the temple of Ishtar. She ushered everyone out of said temple and then stood outside of it. That golden light raised high above her head as she charged a weapon. People would stay by awestruck as the cries were heard. "EX-CALIBUR!" the whole of a temple would crash down in its wake, leaving nothing but rubble behind. Each and everyone one she saw she took the same actions too, sparing disrespect based on their stories. The Crone, The Smith, The Stranger and the Mother, were headed by those with sense and those without absolute failure etched into their stories. But, she still could not allow one temple to stand. No, she took them all down and at the end of four days, she approached the chill of Camelot with a smile on her face having taken the realest step to freeing mankind. She had only a decades time to prepare for the next Holy Grail War. And so she would prepare.

[Bloodedge]

One decade, and one decade alone. In that ten short years, many things transpired. The world, or even the Nexus, had made a few decisions based on the previous two battles for the Holy Grail. Choosing a champion was made all too easy, and it had not yet been made clear whether those champions were the proper choices. Moreover, the second Holy Grail war permitted an anomaly in the form of King Gilgamesh. As that could never be allowed again, the Grail itself was given the ability of choice. Knights of the Round Table, Lady Galahad, Sir Percival, and the former's squire, Freed, had discovered the physical representation of the Holy Grail within a magically-fortified castle. Sir Percival was wielder of his own Holy Artifact, Longinus, and had thus been capable of bypassing the mighty walls set up by the Grail's existence.

What that group of knights did with the Holy Grail, was an affront to the war itself. There was to be no war, but instead a proving of ability. Artoria Pendragon, Queen of Camelot, was made the holder of a chalice which continued to call upon warriors far and wide. Only a year or so after the Grail was collected, it vanished, returning to the castle from whence it came. Artoria would find herself summoned by the very goblet she'd been handed a year prior, along with six others who sought its power. All the while, Gilgamesh would be watching from high above as the bounded field began to form within Albion itself. . .

[Apollymi]

A single decade and Camelot had some very interesting happenings in the meantime. Artoria Pendragon, was Queen of Camelot and spent her time doing what she always did. She trained, she worked, she raised more knights. She did good deeds and she after some time, held the Holy Grail, if only for a short while. Apparently, the rules of this particular challenge had changed quite a bit and Artoria herself was transported to the magical castle which the cup had spawned from originally. "Hm, something has changed..." she murmured. Still her resolve to hold on to her Holy Grail would not be shaken. Her life had gone back to normal, and she was currently dressed in blue and white, though not the dress worn in Uruk. No, it was one of a similar design though not truly the same and over it, several pieces of armor would emerge as she took her own stance. She'd prefer some easier methods of gaining it, but if she needed to she'd slay every other person who came forward. That magical castle would apparently sit her close to the grail itself, and she like a good protector would plant herself before it, waiting to take all comers.

At the same time, a white haired young woman could soon be found within the area as well. She had a veil on her hair, but her tanned skin and red eyes seemed to belie a less than friendly nature. Still she seemed to be watching waiting just on the verge of combat. Strangely there were long white lines painted along the exposed skin of her body, each of these seemed to glow in turn as she readied herself for whatever challenge would come. Still within the cover of some nearby trees, she seemed to have a reasonable enough vantage point.

The last of the young women to appear, would be a girl with long red ponytails. She had a keen eye but also seemed to be the most confused. She hid herself at the very edge of the castle wall, seeming to peek out while hiding herself. She couldn't help but allow her vermillion eyes to scan. She was looking for a very particular person, though she made the assumption he wouldn't be found here. Her leg was against the wall and her visage looked a tiny bit sullen. She'd know within a few moments what was going on, until then she'd have to wait and see.

[Bloodedge]

This Holy Grail had carefully selected those who would be allowed to seek it. Each participant, if victorious, would alter reality around them in some way. Alas, the choice was not too carefully made; some selections may have undergone drastic changes since the Grail chose them. Either way, there were seven. Each appeared at once, and the bounded field erected itself. "The Holy Grail will choose another. Seven have been found; seven will be tested. Seven times, fill the Grail. One remaining may drink."

The mysterious voice spoke into the minds of seven participants, and then, the space around them all appointed their roles... and therefore their names during this competition. For Artoria Pendragon herself, she was once again designated Saber. An anomaly appeared in the form of the tattooed, white-haired woman. For some reason even the Nexus could not comprehend, she could not be properly placed. As such, she was designated Foreigner. As for the red-haired one in hiding, she was given the mantle of Archer. Four others remained. By the waters outside this castle, a blue-haired young man with a braided ponytail and a wooden staff was granted Caster, much to his chagrin. Upon a nearby hill, there was a dark-skinned giant of a man, bald and covered in various markings and golden ornaments. This one was granted Berserker. At the front gate was another hulk of a male, red of hair and beard, and infinitely satisfied by his location. He happened to be an enemy to the previous individual. This one had just managed to steal Rider from his rival in this competition. Lastly, a tall and thin male figure arrived wearing a full suit and... very long bandages covering his head and hands. The bandages on his head were marked with three large, sideways eye-like designs that glowed crimson as he observed the selected battlefield. He was another anomaly, deemed Avenger by the Grail.

With that, the seven participants of the Third Holy Grail War were chosen. Titles were granted, and they could all proceed with their hunt for the omnipotent wish-granting apparatus. . .

[Apollymi]

Saber. Yes, once more Artoria was pegged Saber by this world's wish granting cup. At this point the young woman in blue wasn't even surprised, not even as she planted her sword in front of her, this time it was wrapped in invisible air the length and look of it hidden by a compressed swirl of air that was magical in nature. It was honorable for Artoria to claim her cup with herself at the ready, but she'd not exactly been quiet throughout her time in Albion, she did not wish to be unchallenged for something as simple as the holy sword she wielded. Still as this voice gave her mind new words to think she grinned the happiest smile that had crossed her face since the start of the decade. There was little that excited Artoria, but one of those things was a good fight, "Foreigner, Avenger? Those are strange classes, I would have words..." she uttered in an almost excitable manner. So then, how long would it take for someone to reach this castle directly? She couldn't give up an advantageous spot and the hard work of her people just to chase and sate her bloodlust.

The girl titled Archer wondered if she could take the Saber. She seemed to be a girl about as small as herself, and she would have the advantage of range right? That seemed like a good enough idea. She'd wait a while to take that particular shot though. At the same time, the one titled Foreigner found herself walking along as if unhindered. For all intents and purposes it did not matter who she fought, she would simply fight whoever she came across and strong arm them into fighting with her. Yes, that was the most apt plan, if she did that, she could drink from the Holy Grail herself and then bask in the ambiance of the moment. As such, her movements through the woods left her open. The Archer in this case, looked upon this one, and decided it was far too easy to shoot her... no one left themselves so open without purpose. She'd refrain once more. Who... who would be the first to start combat?

[Bloodedge]

This war would be no simple matter of one person initiating combat. The young male in this group of seven had already become mobile. He lamented the Class granted to him by this Holy Grail, but of course, he could blame his master for causing such a thing. She'd been the one to force him into magical training, which made him forego his preferred fighting style for quite some time now. Whatever the case, Caster decided to go for fortification first and foremost. There was a castle here, and for all he knew, it was at least relatively empty. What would he do then? Only two magical sources were inside. One could assume the grail was within as well, so he would take his chances. The first few moments of this war were spent by Caster utilizing Territory Creation to form a space of his own around the Grail Castle, working toward sealing it in to avoid having too many problems at once. Surely he could deal with the two inside, and any others would first have to find their way through a misty labyrinth being created immediately around the castle. Yes, perhaps something like that would funnel them enough for Caster to take down one opponent after another.

Meanwhile, Rider was perhaps the most excited of the bunch. What he saw in this war was the ultimate opportunity for conquest. He manifested a grand chariot drawn by two black bulls, and took up his mount. He rode off toward a glorious battle, but there was another watching. Berserker was not one of great magical ability, but he was a necromancer tried and true. The corpses of his own fallen armies inhabited the ground around him, and they were beginning to rise while eyes were set on Rider.

[Apollymi]

"A mage." Artoria said noting the start of territory creation. She was quite familiar with it by this point in her life, and would have no issues being trapped within such a space. If the worst happened, she could puncture most without too much issue. The Archer though didn't like this at all. She was beginning to have her targets disappear from sight as she was right outside the castle. She pulled the string of her bow, a shot charging alight with energy as she fired it, aiming for the center of Caster's body from her current position which was from the castle's broken battlements slightly above and to the left of his position. If it struck it would go straight through him, disrupting his spell and leaving the castle be. Regardless of that fact her position would become obvious if it wasn't already, so she'd already begun figuring out the next aspect of her plan.

In the meantime the one called Foreigner felt the start of war among several bodies. As such she easily found herself moving through the woods towards the location of Berserker and Rider. Why not? She was here to fight and they seemed the most apt to do so. She didn't seem to care much about anything and instead each and every step she took would be seemingly unguarded and uncaring. Did she truly believe so highly of herself that she wore no protection and took no precautions? Well not exactly, she'd simply decided she'd come here for a fight and she would have it.

[Bloodedge]

Caster continued to forge his territory. An interruption was soon to come, though, in the form of none other than Archer. Luckily for him, he had just the supportive ability to deal with someone loosing arrows in his direction. The lad was born with a protection which specifically functioned against projectiles. Though its primary purpose was against those he could see, it did offer its gift to him in other ways as well. The mere sound of air being cut through, the intent to kill─ these were things his senses picked up easily at range. Maybe his master deserved some praise after all, if only for bolstering this ability so much. At any rate, Caster's creation was brought to a standstill by the sudden need to evade a stray arrow. He leapt back, watching the projectile rip through the air in front of him. The lad was then able to follow its trajectory right back to the redhead from whence it came. "Oi!" he shouted, waving a staff that launched half a dozen fireballs in the woman's direction. "I'm building over here! Rude! I was coming for you later!"

While the first encounter of this war became official, the second was getting underway as well. Berserker's dead army had come out to halt Rider's forward momentum. Corpses piled atop one another and merged, eventually forming a giant war elephant to thwart the chariot ahead of it. Berserker stood atop said elephant, wielding two axes with gems that produced emerald flames. "You again, eh? Wahahaha! I won't be going easy!" Rider proclaimed. There was a great magical power within the elephant, and just as much forming around Rider as he summoned a phalanx through even the bounded field. Soldiers charged, undead charged, and just like that... an entire battlefield had already been created on the mountainside.

[Apollymi]

If Caster could build a territory he probably should be finishing it, this was the thought of Artoria as she began using her right hand to play with a small ornate dagger while the other held tight a grip on her sword. The movement of great armies outside of this immediate area said that finishing such a thing would be helpful to both him and those also stuck in the area. Even so, the redhaired girl who'd attacked him would much rather use the extra carnage to her own advantage. She didn't think she could take the Saber alone, nor did she think getting locked into a space with her and Caster was a good idea. He'd stopped the formation of his territory, but it seemed that he was somewhat immune to arrows. How strange. Her arrow went through the air instead of through his body and now he was calling her rude and raining fireballs down on her. "I am not rude. You are the one trying to trap me in here with a monster!" she exclaimed. If this group was smart they probably would have tried taking out either one of the men with a whole army at their disposal or the girl sitting in the castle with the grail. Alas it seemed small battles were breaking out instead. The fireballs were raining down but the girl didn't seem to be moving at all. That bow of hers remained drawn as she shot off multiple arrows instead of defending herself. A whole line was fired in rapid succession aiming for each of his limbs and a few at the direct center of his body and she should have been burning but she could not, her own skills made her immune to fire. She'd been burned on purpose before and now she would use fire as cover to try and shoot enough arrows at the man that they couldn't be dodged, all while keeping him from finishing his territory.

While progress was aimed to be stopped, both Rider and Berserker were seemingly on the move with two whole armies at their disposal. A war elephant and a chariot, a phalax and an army of undead. Foreigner stood at the edge of this great battlefield and her arms crossed over her chest. This was her element two armies clashing combatants clobbering each other each one trying to win the ultimate battle. Was there an opportune moment to attack? Probably, she'd wait for it... all the while not seeming to be negatively impacted by an army of the dead nor an army of soldiers.

[Bloodedge]

Archer was being consumed by the magical flames produced by Caster, but still, she attacked. Though he couldn't see past the fire, he had eyes on her location now. That array of arrows she unleashed could only slow down his territory progress by requiring much more movement of him. He dodged and dodged, wondering why this woman wasn't burning alive. "What monster? The only monster I know is somebody who tries to snipe a guy while he's building!" he insisted. Once he had a brief moment of reprieve between evasions, Caster tapped the heels of his shoes. A rune was applied to each, showing a sudden drastic increase to his maneuverability. Something previously annoying was suddenly more of a stepping dance, and almost... fun-looking. With that, he was able to at least progress a little on creating his mist fortress. "Guess you're Archer then, huh? Why don't you scream when I set you on fire?"

Foreigner was observing a more legitimate war take place, and the two main participants were none the wiser to her presence. Their focus was entirely on the other combatant in their little duel. Bloodshed on one side, rotting limbs falling apart on the other; there seemed to be no end in sight to the carnage. Such was the case when these two met on the battlefield. At this rate, the pair of them would expend all their energy throwing soldiers at each other's army until one of them fell. Rider carried a great deal of confidence in this encounter, though. Berserker's army was virtually endless, but his was the mightier by far. One could fell five hundred, and the other could easily topple a thousand; Rider's would end with the greater kill count. The only suspicious thing about this battle to the red-haired man was the fact that this army wasn't previously undead. . .

[Apollymi]

What monster?! Did he really not sense that massive power aside from the Holy Grail within this space. "I am no monster. I am Archer obviously but do you truly not sense that presence with the cup?" she asked as if mortified. If she'd known he didn't realize what was in there, she might have let him go in and get crushed. "Besides, getting trapped in there with her is not a good idea," she said giving a firm nod. This man was not the one she was looking for, of this she was certain. Even so, he seemed reasonable enough after a few sentences. He wanted to know why she didn't scream when he'd tried to set her own fire, she gave a superficial shrug. "I was once given a trial by fire. I was found innocent of that which I was accused fire cannot harm me as a result," she said as if it was a simple enough reason. Knowing she was immune to fire he might try using something else, but there was no problem in her near future. His increased steps and the advancement on his steps made him a harder target to take aim at, Archer would soon be forced to just loose as many arrows as possible and hope she managed to snag him once. Maybe one more person could show up, if she was being honest she simply didn't wish to be trapped along with this lad in this labyrinth he was building with the Saber she'd seen inside with the cup.

Berserker and Rider were currently fighting and Berserker was using corpses. There was nothing new in the bodies of the dead, Foreigner didn't truly appreciate that side of the fight. Still, this was war, so she'd allow them to continue. One winner needed to be determined before she felt it necessary to interfere. All would fall to her, she was certain of this... but she was uninterested in the squabble taking place between these two warlords. She wanted combat, true combat.