Finis Chaldea

[Apollymi]

That sound made by Gilgamesh didn't mean displeasure. Strange though it was, this was understood by the orange haired young woman. She managed to be a tiny bit relieved not to be mistaken for such a creature as one of those. In the same breath apparently the man she stood before made it abundantly clear that women of reason did not often enter his temple. "That kind of thing is exactly why other girls don't like that sort of person... it creates bad expectations on both sides," she said giving it no greater consideration than that. It was a fact of life that men who encountered those kinds of women became jaded, and that women who had to deal with those men also became jaded. The point of elimination would lie with getting rid of those types, and the mean who fed into their lunacy. But that was an extremist point of view, and she was not that at all. In her own opinion everyone had to deal with those types to now the good ones when they met them and figure out how to navigate the differences between their previous experiences and the ones they were having presently. It was all part of the human condition in the end.

Speaking of human conditions her own was being brought up. Apparently, she was simply too weak to use her abilities properly. Well, she did say it was a possibility. "I will give that credit. To do so requires quite a bit, it's a long term project to figure out..." she said. Her thoughts were not at all dismissive though. Knowing that it was her own weakness which kept her from fully being able to exploit such a thing, she could spend time trying to figure out what to do about it. He offered her clothing and before that an answer to her question. Apparently the place she'd died was not part of any particular level of the world so she could not be spawned back there, that was a bit depressing but good to know she supposed. "Sou ka," she said seeming to understand it. Basically she'd have to go back there directly if she wanted to go, so it would probably be quite a long time before she mustered up that kind resolve. What was he saying now though... apparently he was offering her a job? Working for him, in this place relaying important information to the masses?

"You are offering me a job as a reporter?" Her face seemed to shift quite a bit before her eyes went all sparkly. She always wanted to be a reporter. She'd been studying journalism in school, she'd become a streamer to get better at public speaking... this was basically her dream job! "YOSH! I want that job, no other job... I'd love that job. That exact one!" she said seemingly very excitable from her previously reserved self. "I really am about to go from Isekai healer to general favorite dream job of my childhood... I'm pretty sure that happened in reverse but I will definitely do it," the lass claimed. She would not mind working for this man. He did not give her any bad feelings and the spirits connected to her had nothing bad to say about him. All could be well. "I'll do my best. And definitely talk to that kid who tells the good stories. I wouldn't want to be boring or anything... research is key." Her words ended with her slamming her fist into her open palm as if cementing the idea with that physical contact. This lass really seemed suddenly into the thing she was about to get into, and suddenly she realized that it was this kind of excitement she previously brought to the party in addition to her own skills. It was probably why her small audience was so loyal as well.

[Bloodedge]

What did this one have to say about the position offered to her? In essence, precisely what he expected when he deemed her fit for it. Ah, his eyes were working in his favor more with each use; he'd have to find more excuses to peer beyond present space-time. It had taken only a short while to see multiple paths to the future that involved the orange-haired woman, and the best of them by far was this one. She would be a... reporter? Well, it sounded quite to the point. "If you wish to call the position of scribe something so mundane, I suppose it will do," he stated. She would be the first in Uruk to send information to and fro, informing the masses of goings-on to avoid Gilgamesh receiving too many tablets filled with the same nonsense. This was one of his greatest acquisitions in quite some time, but alas, he accepted only the most fitting options in these cases.

Excitement was clear, dancing across the woman's face like a nest of disturbed hornets. That was precisely the energy she would be needing in time. First, she needed the requirements for such a task. "Then it is settled. You will learn cuneiform, and how to translate the common tongue to it flawlessly. The tablets I receive are not to be read by just anyone. Your research will have to be done quickly; there is already a task to complete. Word must be spread about a war nearby, quickly enough to stop a horde of mongrels from flooding me with the same tablets as everyone else. Though you will hardly be enough to stop that, your deliverance of the news to everyone at once will free me to discard those tablets on sight. I will have you equipped with the proper tools for interacting with Uruk and all allies."

Something else odd was brought up. While she was flailing about excitedly, the woman spoke of something called an isekai, after using the strange term reporter. Those phrases from another world kept appearing as of late, but they were becoming no less bothersome to hear. He recognized them, but he also didn't. No matter. This time, he'd meet those words with a sigh. "Is there anything else you require? Speak while I have the mood to be giving."

[Apollymi]

According to this man calling the position of scribe something like reporter was mundane. "But the words mean the same thing... scribe is just arc-... old-fashioned," she said deciding at the last moment to lessen the blow which would essentially call the man old. 'He is really into his roleplay. It's almost like he has truly forgotten everything and adopted that persona fully. He should be praised for that commitment. I have never managed such a thing...' she thought in a manner most attentive.

What would her job require? Her to learn to read and write in the language of this land. She would be given the tools necessary to allow her to give such reports as they were needed.. There was even a topic of her first one up already. Apparently, there was a war in Albion and he was aware of it and did not want to deal with a flood of questions surrounding it. Fair enough... "That is pretty quick. Still, I work well under pressure I will do my best." she claimed. If he was giving her everything necessary to get started she did not really have any complaints. Apparently, the King was still in the mood to be giving after providing her with the type of employment she would have normally sought. He asked if she required anything else and she gave it a bit of thought. "Could you tell me where I could find a snack and a quiet room. If I am to study it would be easier to do without any distractions," she mentioned. Of course she fully intended to pay for such items herself she simply needed to know where to look for them. Whatever the case if she was given those things she'd be well on her way. The day would continue, news would eventually be reported and Chaldea would easily gain one of the newest assets it could use.

At the dawn of a new day Artoria woke and dressed. Today was a the day... some 3 months after her arrival back to Camelot she would be going to this battle with a smile on her face ready for anything. She now knew the location of her target and was busy steeling herself to the task. She'd take half her knights with her, and leave half to protect the castle, lest she run into the issue of their not being anyone around to defend her castle. There were few things in the world Artoria enjoyed more than killing and today she would get to do one of those, and maybe after all was said and done... she'd get to discover something she'd also find interesting. "Father, I am sorry to interrupt, your quiet time but Is today the day?" this was a question from the armored Knight Mordred. So excitable this one still was, though all of their siblings had been equally as excitable during their first skirmishes. Artoria looked out over Camelot and could only smirk. Strange was the conversation had that led to Mordred referring to her as father. But, Artoria was exactly the type to spoil children. It technically wasn't illogical for Mordred to call her father. Considering how Mordred came into being and the fact that Artoria was actually raising them, it was not necessarily uncalled for. "You truly do not find it strange to refer to me as such, what an interesting child. Raise your head Mordred, today is indeed the day." Artoria mentioned. She was very confident in her plan of action causing both the least casualties and presenting the most fun for herself. She'd made all knights get a good nights rest the previous night. They'd all been told to be ready at dawn and the light was just beginning to peak over the horizon now.

[Bloodedge]

And so, on the most random occasion, Gilgamesh acquired a scribe... or reporter, as she put it. She needed only a place of silence and something to eat while she approached her studies. Naturally, she would be given any tools she thought necessary. She would have access even to Medusa, who'd been a very quick learner in her own right, and was more than suited to pass along her knowledge. As for a quiet space, working for Gilgamesh meant access to the whole of Uruk's citadel as both home and workplace. Nothing by way of currency would be required of her, as she represented the king who possessed everything. The exchange for working under Uruk's king was much the same. There was no money, but instead the life of the rich and famous, as one might call it. Somewhere, someone would compare this exchange to Gilgamesh playing at being some sort of "sugar daddy" to those he employed. There was every possibility he'd be hearing that directly at some point. . .

At sunrise, a group of knights were set to accompany their queen toward battle. Lancelot, Gawain, and the more recently named Galahad were assembled at the stables. To the former two of these men, this had always been the most thrilling part of war. They would ride out soon, and in one final skirmish, the long war would be over. Of these three, none believed things would not end in their favor. The Knights of the Round Table did not lose wars. They did not lose battles, and they did not lose people. This had been their greatest war yet, but they believed that meant only a more spectacular ending. "Time to lose your 'final battle card' there, Sir Galahad," said Lancelot to one of their newer members. The male Galahad seemed only slightly reprehensive, wondering if he should have instead been left in Camelot. "I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Nothing to be afraid of, really."

[Apollymi]

Sunrise at the stables, a collection of men readied themselves to ride out, with them was Gareth. The little wolf as Artoria called her was not quite so little anymore and more than prepared to take to the battle, aside from a yawn. She was actually quite sleepy. As she had aged she'd grown out of her energetic personality. Now she was ready for battle but a bit of a slouch first thing in the morning. Artoria was now there to join the group with Mordred in tow saddling up her own horse which hadn't been ridden by her in quite a while. She was giving it a pat while listening to Lancelot tease young Sir Galahad. "It is a wonder you can tease so easily so early in the morning, Lancelot. Next you should tell young Galahad of your still quivering liver~" That was Artoria's reply as she pulled herself up onto her horse. She looked and found both Mordred and Gareth where they needed to be. "Come, this war has gone on far too long... We finish this now. And do not worry all will be well," these were Artoria's words and she could say them with a great deal of confidence, after all she was the Queen of Knights and a killer by her own nature. If her objective was death there was very little that could stand in her way.

With that they would be off, to whatever little patch of land on Albion this cur of an Emperor had laid claim to and Artoria would show him what happened when he chose the wrong target for his abuses.

[Bloodedge]

The eventual arrival of Artoria and Mordred was accompanied by a fair amount of sass from the former to Lancelot. The Knight of the Lake responded first with a silent mock of a laugh, and an accompanying overexaggerated roll of the eyes. "Hardy har. Try for relevance next time, maybe?" he retorted while hopping onto his own horse. Galahad (as Freed at the time) had not found one of his own, and would not take up Lady Galahad's horse in her stead. As such, he was offered the back of Lancelot's mount. By Artoria's order, Lancelot rode out while Galahad and that massive shield was carried with surprising ease by a mighty, black steed.

Lucius Tiberius, Emperor of Roma and of Swords, waited with patience. He'd been wearing a twisted smile in that tent for nearly three months, knowing the ultimate target of his bloodlust would be appearing eventually. Today was the day he would receive word of the queen's approach, along with a small group of knights. Oh? How boring. Well, he supposed the monsters and men he brought could have their fun with that group. A thousand years in the making, his battle against Artoria Pendragon would be allowed no interruptions at all. That much, he was certain of for both parties.

[Apollymi]

"Lancelot, you wound me... it was perfectly relevant. Only tease while having nothing you can be teased about~" she said with a gentle upturn of her lips. They'd rode out to this point and Artoria had a good idea of what was to come. Though she figured there were a great many in the army of one Lucius Tiberius, she also knew the capabilities of her own people. A force did not need to be big, it needed to be good. Warfare in Albion was a series of small scale battles for supremacy, talented knights could take several opponents at once, powerful ones could take on whole armies. Artoria herself took the path of least bloodshed whenever possible, it was always her first option. Though her reasons for seeking such things were usually far from altruistic, it was much easier to control a group after you showed yourself capable of dominating them. To her own knowledge, most did not simply wish to carry on against her. A soldier nor beast could be blamed for the orders of their overlords, though she'd still put them to death just the same, if they moved against her. And though soldiers at least understood their duties, she felt it wrong to make unnecessary sacrifices. Still, it was honorable first and foremost to stand between her enemy and everyone else. If this man truly just wished to take her head he was more than welcome to try in a trial by combat, but if he decided this battle was what he wanted he put his own men at risk for no reason and earned the death.

Upon reaching the area, she would slow to a halt, dismounting her steed and walking forward. Artoria was never one to be questioned and never one to care about the circumstances of war. Artoria stood blue dress billowing in the wind. "I hear there is someone here seeking my head, I would have words!" Excalibur was planted unsheathed in the ground before her. She waited with a smile on her face her armor in place and gave a simple order. "If he will not accept a simple trial by combat, take his army. This emperor is a responsibility I take unto myself, understood?" That came out like a question but it was very clear. She'd offer a simple bout of combat to the man who wanted her head, but should he wish to slaughter his men, she'd let her own take care of that.

[Bloodedge]

What an interesting thing for the queen to proclaim. At what point had Lancelot's words been teasing? Moreover, at what point was Artoria herself above the reproach she declared one must be in such a situation? More importantly still, did Lancelot care to have a discussion about semantics and hypocrisy? The answer to the latter was undoubtedly no. "Whatever you say, Queen of Heroes," was all he said before snapping the reins of his horse, hastening its movement and causing Galahad to tighten his grip.

Upon their arrival, Artoria had an announcement to give outside the large tent ahead of her. She would have words, she said. There were no words to share. She knew what the purpose of this meeting was, and the man within that tent knew what would soon occur. From the tent's opening came a double-edged sword with a patterned likened to a blooming lily. That sword flew quickly until it was lodged in the ground ahead of Artoria. Moments after, a man with dark red hair and purple eyes emerged. He'd been waiting a very long time for this meeting, but there were so few things worth discussing. "Shut up!" was the first thing he said. This was indeed Lucius Tiberius, the alleged great emperor. Ah, but he was a warrior before he was an emperor, much as Artoria was a warrior before she was a queen. It was no matter of chronology, but a matter of existence as a whole for people like them. The battle was the important thing here. "Sword up. There's no diplomacy here."

[Apollymi]

The words of Lancelot before took off made Artoria's eyes widen just a bit, but her face settled immediately after. "Next time friend we twist..." she said about Lancelot. Of course, she may not have actually meant that in a way which was more than friendly but it really didn't matter to her. The fact that he could behave in such a way simply meant her being gone had not had such a negative effect on him. Still, it was not as if she did not understand her own hypocrisy, the King of Heroes was nothing she could be teased about, except technically by the man himself. Oh well, that'd be worth thinking about some other time.

Now then what would come of Artoria's proclamation. The idea that there were no words to be shared, a sword flying out of the tent ahead planting itself in the ground ahead of her. Shut up? The first thing out of this man's mouth was dripped in audacity. Well, he was dying here regardless but he was just adding reasons to the list of why Artoria would easily find this to be something enjoyable. There was no diplomacy here? Fine. The smirk on Artoria's face was one which was almost always present when there was a battle about to start, those eyes of hers were practically glowing with flames. He was her target, and it seemed he saw her the same way. The Queen of Knights stood with her sword in her hand seemingly waiting. She was a knight after all, she would wait for him to arm himself. "You heard him... there may not be more blood shed today. Be alert." Those were the words she gave to her knights. This was the sort of arrangement she preferred herself. There were after all only two reasons she hadn't just wiped this spot off the map, the first of which was that because it would not have been honorable to not meet face to face. The second is because it would have marred the lands she'd gone through so much trouble to raise herself. Regardless she seemed to have taken a stance both hands on the hilt with it held out before her. She was serene all other things being lost to her as she mentally prepared for battle, in this instance.

[Bloodedge]

At long last, Lucius had an opportunity to gaze upon the alleged Queen of Knights. He had to say, she wasn't much to look at. There wasn't an ounce of intimidation in her stature; she looked more the part of an angry teenager playing the role of a knight with her older brother or father's sword. Thinking these things, Lucius only became excited. An inexperienced fool would judge preemptively, while he who saw endless combat saw the potential in such a visage being accompanied by the prestige she acquired. To have that meager appearance while carrying that much clout, she had to be as capable as he hoped. Oh, and ever the embodiment of chivalry was the queen. Both knew why they were here, yet she made no moves against him just yet. How... cute. Lucius walked forward in an oddly casual way, jerking his sword from the ground and waving it about with his right hand. Step by step, he drew closer to the knightess who stood against him.

When Lucius stopped walking, he was well within striking distance of Artoria. His sword continued being flailed around at his side, its path shifting in wave-like patterns. "Reflexes?" he asked excitedly. In that exact moment, Lucius' left arm quickly extended out to its respective side. Whether Artoria let her eyes be drawn to it or not, that constantly waving sword would nigh simultaneously be tossed from one side to the other. In passing through the space between Lucius' hands, its positioning would allow the narrowest of nicks to Artoria's face before his left hand snatched the sword by its hilt.

[Apollymi]

In the quiet of Artoria's mind she watched the approach of this man. He was an imposing presence, much the opposite of herself. He approached casually that sword of his waving ever so gently. 'He is sizing me up... oh but not negatively,' that was the thought she had. She was used to being underestimated. Most who looked upon her saw only a small girl with an unimposing frame. They did not see the potential danger of her. Those who knew her only by her legends always seemed surprised by the difference between her and their imagination. But this one, with those casual steps did not seem to be looking down upon her, nor was he looking up to her. 'Dangerous.' Hoh? When was the last time she saw someone as innately dangerous in some way, in a combat situation? Enkidu.

When he stopped moving he was within strike range, what would he do? He did not seem the straight forward type, but apparently he chose to question her reflexes that moving sword of his was still waving about. His words registered in her ears, but much like while playing basketball she kept her eyes on the ball, or in this case the sword. Even as his arm moved, it was the sword which had her eye. It zipped in front of her face and she tilted her body at the last possible instant, that sword clipping her bangs gently as she moved in at a burst so that in the moment the sword passed by her face she was jabbing at a slightly upward angle into the underside of his chin, her sword aiming to penetrate his head from that angle. He was checking her reflexes, she was trying to kill him... still she did not seem unamused. Why did she register him as a danger to herself? Moreover he'd claimed he did not wish to speak so why was he speaking now? This man was different, 'What will it be?' she questioned herself. A fight with an opponent she was unsure of was always interesting.

[Bloodedge]

Interesting. This one could not have her attention drawn away from his sword so easily. Lucius took mental note of this fact; it was becoming too rare a trait in recent years. He hadn't seen an enemy that seasoned in... decades, he believed. They operated somewhat differently though, it seemed. While Artoria watched the enemy's weapon, Lucius watched the core while letting his periphery do the rest. The gleam of Excalibur's blade was a bright one, but not nearly bright enough to blind him from that upward thrust. Lucius spun roughly thirty degrees clockwise while stepping toward the sword now to his left. While Artoria's blade was passing through open air beside his face, Lucius was swinging his own blade toward her right shoulder and bicep, doing so at a downward angle as if his aim was to cleave through her torso after severing the arm. Two features of Artoria Pendragon had been noted, and both would be remembered as the battle progressed. Progress was occurring with haste, luckily enough. The way Lucius learned to approach combat centuries prior would at least be of use for a short time, if not for the long haul.

[Apollymi]

This pair of people seemed to operate with similar levels of skill but opposing methodology. Artoria went to jab into this man's face and found it to be moved by the time her sword would have pierced it. That was reasonable. If someone came to kill her with so little skill they could be killed in a single moment it would have been worthless to start a war with the Knights of the Round Table while looking for her. While he stepped into her blade while spinning around her arm, she stepped forward in the direction she'd been moving in while using the motion to pivot. The Queen of Knights spun concisely ninety degrees clockwise while swinging her sword downwards to meet the blade that would have taken her arm otherwise, coming down atop it like she meant to knock it down. If her blade made contact with the other, her immediate follow up would be the upward swing of that blade into his body from that horizontal position as if she meant to slash into his chest in that instant. If no contact was made there was a certain freedom of movement left to counter the next motion instead.

From the outward perspective this was like watching a dangerous dance, neither person was overpowering the other just yet, and both seemed to be testing the waters a bit. Artoria for her part in this, did not seem stressed instead she seemed excited. She'd figured she would come and kill someone and leave, she did not expect someone she thought might be dangerous to show themselves. 'Skill equivalent to my own...' she mused, to herself. There was a calm in her mind and visage but there was curiosity in her mind. Did this person simply have interest in fighting her the way she fought Gilgamesh? Was this more sinister? Motivations were important in finding a good moment to kill... but this one did not have the obvious openings of others. 'Dangerous.' The last time someone had shown so much skill in facing her, she'd had to step outside of Chivalry to complete the task of killing them, but this was not something she could risk already being the Queen of Knights, how would she continue? Was this not a slaughter but a challenge?! This wasn't like facing overwhelming might, she could tell from just a few seconds, her instincts said this kill would have to be earned.

[Bloodedge]

Under circumstances he'd become accustomed to, Lucius would have been watching some girl's upper half slide from her lower half already. Maybe all those battles leading up to this were worthwhile? He could certainly hope so while watching the queen's blade shift downward from its existing lunge. Blades clashed, and it seemed his would not be finding its home in her flesh just yet. Much to Lucius' satisfaction, this woman was quick to defend as well as counterattack. Her blade targeted him again immediately, this time coming from the clash toward his chest.

Another shift of momentum led Lucius to his right with an opposing rotation to the previous. As Excalibur swept through the air toward him, his right vambrace met the flat of its blade. Lucius' arm continued moving upwards and out, redirecting her slash outward to his right side. In the meantime, his blade was making its return stroke from her parry. He would see Artoria's blade continue moving to her left, while his sword followed a similar pattern from her right. If neither avoided nor impeded, he would enjoy drawing blood directly from her abdomen with the slightest upward angle to let the red flow nicely down that deep blue dress she wore. Ah, what a sight he envisioned. . .

[Apollymi]

Artoria was left to wonder about this man's motivations. He was obviously sizing her up and fairly pleased to be involved with the fight. The Queen of Knights understood this more than most, was this why he was dangerous? Perhaps. There were many issues with those who sought battle as their only outlet in life, knowing the pitfalls of such a thing, Artoria expected that this man would only become less predictable as his bloodlust rose. She could not deny her own ability to hold to conventions or sanity when excitement overtook her. 'I should finish this as soon as an opening presents itself or is forced... he seems to be reading me.' What an amusing thought. Artoria or rather Hoshimi Eri, spent all of her time within her own mind reading other people, figuring out how to neutralize them with haste and efficiency. The fact that she was being studied in a way she recognized as dangerous was rather interesting. Maybe that was the wrong word? She had the habit of using the wrong terms to describe her own feelings.

Whatever the case, the movements of the pair of combatants was turning into a dance. That clash of swords occurred no blade touched her side, but her own also did not reach its intended target. An opposite directional movement, would leave him able to block her blade with a vambrace, and push against her. Her blade was moving left and his own was coming up at a slight angle, what would she do? There was a shift in her stance as her right ankle crossed her left and she forced herself to spin in the direction her blade was going. At the same time, an influx of her own mana summoned her armor to her form on her person and gave her a burst of speed. It would be enough to stop the blade of this man before he made contact with her flesh, and allow her to complete the spin. Her she raised her sword while completing her spin, aiming a downward slash from his sword arm to the opposing hip, with enough power behind it to cleave through flesh. Would blood be drawn? Could she even hit him? It was amusing to think about. She'd come here expecting to perform an execution... but this seemed to be something very different. She supposed from a warrior's perspective a certain amount of respect was to be given. For someone to come up from below and seem to be a match for her was more than commendable.