imperial_stage | Deathfire, Hope, and the Storm's Blade

Entry tags:

signum

Deathfire, Hope, and the Storm's Blade

Who: Garviel, Signum, and any snoopy watchers
What: The Holy Grail war continues
Where: Mount Death, otherwise known as Mount Deathfire in Ancient Belka
Warnings: ULTRAVIOLENCE. EXPLOSIONS. EXCESSIVE GAR. LONG SPEECHES.

The foot of Mount Death is an immensely complex series of lava tunnels and gate-like natural formations, entirely made from obsidian and other igneous materials. Loken's armor, freshly repainted and repaired by the Roman artificers marks him out as a white blot, dwarfed by the great gates behind him. Above them is mounted a huge skull, a draconic one from the times of the great Fire-drakes. A relic of the time when all of this land was Belkan, much as he was.

A breeze is the only thing that stirs the valley, vitrified lava floes halted forever in their motion. A dead place, where once the Circle of Fire burned in the breasts of the men who worked here, who fought the drakes, and who called Deathfire their great tribal home. Now, only ghosts remain, and bones. Empty vaults and quiet lava tubes, no more forges ringing, no more drakes roaring and clambering through fissures in the earth to hunt humans, fae, and in the lean times, even each other.

There is only the wind, which idly stirs the oaths of moment which have been freshly written onto parchments which are attached to Garviel's armored chest, stuck in place by wax seals. He waits for something, his face masked by his pugnacious-looking helm. He could be the last avatar of death in this place, a god of war that has burnt itself out, leaving only a single ivory playing piece to stride the battlefield.

He wonders if this was the right place to choose. So rich in the past stories of Belka, of the connection he shares with Archer. No.... he knows her name now, but he will not speak it, or even think it. Not yet. Not until she appears before him. So instead... he simply stands his silent vigil in the darkness. Hoping he can reach her, and find a way to end this war, once and for all. Perhaps he is doing this for too personal a reason, but he can no longer abide the thought of destroying one of the last remnants of Belka. It ends tonight. One way or another.

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Meanwhile!

((Tag here or there at this point, doesn't matter to me.))

I will trust you have a reason for this despite your words last night. One moment, please.

There was a slight displeasure to Shamal's mental words, though she did trust Archer. She just wanted to know why they were sparing him when it went against their nature as Heroic Spirits tied to the Holy Grail.

Using the excess mana swirling about them, Shamal used Klarwind to lock onto Archer and Berserker, then cast a transfer spell to bring both warriors before her on the cliff overlooking the battleground in a gentle green glow. This would be the first time Berserker laid eyes upon Shamal in her knight's clothes, but he may recognize her from her the Imperial City using her front as a doctor to help those partaking in the late emperor's tournament as Spring Court.

Berserker is a monstrosity in person. His armor ruined, no helm, his weapons warped and melted by the heat of Laevatein's last attack. His flesh has bubbled and cracked in certain areas, leaking blood and clear fluid, and he carries himself with a certain degree of weary dignity, a man unwilling to put down his burden even now. He nods to her, opening cracked lips to say in a voice that is deep, if now parched and raspy.

"Thank you Mamzel. I would bow as a greeting, but I would likely fall over and be unable to rise were I to do so. I take it you are Signum's friend?"

He suspects she is a Heroic Spirit as well, but in his weakened state it is nothing more than a guess. If this be his death after his victory of words against Archer, then so be it. He will not be found wanting. He straightens up visibly as he looks at her, doing his best to represent the pride of the Legiones Astartes, as the last loyal son.

"He already figured out my identity, Caster, so feel free to introduce yourself if you like," Signum says, straightening her own armor. She was actually feeling fairly fantastic after the extra flow of mana from the tarot card, though her armor is still clearly torn and bloody in several places.

"Garviel Loken. May the fates call me a fool, but I believe you when you say your only interest as a Heroic Spirit is helping people, including our Master," Signum begins, looking directly at the legionnaire, emotions shut down and back in full order-barking form as the Blazing General. "I should inform you that the easiest way for you to do that would be to accept an execution now and give your mana back to the Holy Grail. However, you are clearly not one to ever do things the easy way, so I will hear your counter-offer now."

"To call you a fool would be a kindness," Shamal said in a quiet aside to Signum. She could call her leader a few choice things right then, none of which would leave her lips. "And if he knows your identity, there is little need to hide mine, linked as we are."

She then turned her attention to the giant man before her. Part of her wanted to heal him, but for the moment he was still an enemy and she could not jeopardize the advantage the two Wolkenritter had over him. Not at the moment. She would wait to hear his answer to Signum's question.

"I am the Hand of the Healing Wind, Knight of the Lake. I am Shamal of the Wolkenritter," she said with a bow of her own. "Please be certain of your counter when you speak it. Much rides on your choice of words."

"My full name is Garviel Loken, Captain of the 10th Company of the Luna Wolves Legiones Astartes. There are several reasons you should spare me, and band together with me. The first reason: Rider. I know you warred with him. Moreover, I know you lost. I would have known his destruction... and I have not felt it. Though if I'm not mistaken, a servant was destroyed not so long ago."

He looks at Shamal for a long moment. "The second is Hayate. A young girl utterly unschooled in magecraft should not be a master. Particularly considering she undertook no actual summoning, from what I understand it." He looks back towards Mount Deathfire, taking a few seconds pause to strengthen himself. "The strain on her mana must be immense, from supporting one servant." He turns his gaze to Shamal, as if asking her if she is a second servant of Hayate's, but doesn't actually voice it. "I also happen to know that one of my Master's confidants is one of the most knowledgeable magi of the modern Era, equaling the lore of Magnus of Belka, perhaps. She was the one who suggested my Master participate, and she may be able to help you discover why your memories are incomplete, as well as why there have never been a victor to any of the preceding Grail Wars."

He pauses, frowning, "There is also the matter of Lancer. She is... undertaking something very dangerous. She has gone into the Rift, the very heart of Corruption, to save something precious to her. She may well manage it, but what comes out is.... very likely to be an enemy of all that live. She has asked me to slay her, if she has become corrupted, for while the Fae are not like humans, they fight against the Taintspawn as much as we do, and she doesn't want herself to continue to exist in that state. She's a danger to more than just the Grail Warriors and their masters, if she falls to Taint."

He is silent for a few seconds, looking from one Wolkenritter to the other, and then clears his parched throat. "And the last piece, though this is probably the least... focused of my ideas. I suspect that if we combine our knowledge and power, we can bring some sort of victorious conclusion to this war, let the noble Heroic Spirits either dissipate or stay on as they like, and you can be free to serve your master in perpetuity. There is no shortage of mana in this place, for we stand in the ruins of Old Belka, all around us. There are so many wonders still buried from that Golden Age, and with the lore..." He hesitates, then says her name aloud, "And with the lore that Medea can offer, I believe we can find a mutually successful scenario that will be resolved without the spilling of any more Belkan blood. This will be a hard road, no doubt, filled with difficult hours researching and experimenting with the very natures of our existences.... but I wanted to offer you a chance at life outside of war, Signum. I am fond of you, both on as personal level and as the inspiration of my youth. And you as well, Shamal, for the Wolkenritter were the legends that that Legiones Astartes were based upon. I want to break this curse upon you, so that you know something other than eternal war."

He goes quiet, waiting for Signum's verdict, and that of Shamal.

"So your deal is, we let you live and team up against Lancer and Rider. If we do, then we, you, and presumably Saber all get together and find some way to go on existing after our time here is up. To this end, your resources are yourself and supposedly one of the Roman queen's advisors," Signum summarizes, remembering the name from her time living with Medea's approximate Sawan counterpart.

"That sounds like a fair trade, but you're forgetting the most basic thing I've been trying to remind you of," she points out. "We're part of a ceremony here. The Grail War is a ritual requiring the deaths of six out of the seven summoned Heroic Spirits. I've made temporary alliances, but always with the understanding that one of us would eventually fade away to complete this."

She stops, and looks at the ground. "If we don't finish the ritual, things will turn out...very poorly. Especially for Hayate," she admits, voicing the doubt that's been gnawing at her for several days now.

At least she isn't drawing her sword again yet.

Shamal gave no reaction when Garviel looked to her, made no indication as to whether Hayate was also her master. She felt it was an unneeded bit of information in the moment. She took in the man's words, shifting between practicality and idealism. He was all over the place but also something... something... It was hard to put into concrete thoughts. He was unfocused, but also too focused. And, as Signum pointed out, forgetting the powerful artifact they all served.

"Without the spilling of more Belkan blood." Shamal repeated Garviel's own words back to him. "What of those not of Belkan blood? Old Belka is gone. You lineage and our origin has little to do with this matter. Pride in your order is expected, but if you want to free the bonds the Heroic Spirits you need to look broader with a focused eye. See the field of the War for what it is, not for what you believe it to be. There are more than just Belkan blood."

She looked st Signum for a moment, knowing how deep that doubt rested inside the general, before turning her attention back to Garviel.

"The reality is, Garviel Loken, and I'm sorry to say it. You will cease to exist." Her eyes soften then. "It's just the way it is. You can choose to rest now, having been defeated in honorable combat by the Blazing General. Or you can rest later, stepping aside and laying your sword down in the name of a sweet girl that doesn't deserve the burden placed upon her."

Shamal spread her hands out, the rings upon them winking a bit in the light of the exploding volcano. "The choice is yours."

"I know this." He reaches to his chest, pulling up the charred remains of an Oath of moment, looking at it. "I know Belka is gone, and I had thought I was the last son of all. But meeting Signum.... and now you, it has broken my focus on victory, and on the bargain I made with the Throne of Heroes. I chose this while still alive, to step outside of time, so that I might fight for all of humanity against the dark forces that threaten it. Not just Belka. I stood up to Rider in Sawa, and saved Lancer because he was a dishonorable bastard who was just killing peasants. That's what I was made to do, that is what I chose to do. That's why I led the Crusade company against Avshar. It had no bearing on the Grail War, it was just... the right thing. She seemed to agree." He nods his head at Signum, remembering their gallant stand against the demons together.

"The ritual itself is of secondary concern to me, and I must admit in some ways I particularly loathe it for the deaths that must happen. It smacks of blood sorcery."

Loken considers for a long moment, and says, "Death is all that the Legiones Astartes are promised. Death, duty, and if we are lucky, a destiny. We are remembered not for the good we did in life, but the evil we destroy. If I can stop Rider, and fight against the Taint until the end of this war, that is enough for me. I cannot rest yet. And... my loyalty to my Master will not let me turn aside until the end. But... if Hayate is at risk, perhaps I can convince my Master to turn their back on the war. My master's wish is also unselfish, and my Master is noble, and would not sacrifice an innocent child simply for their wish. I will convince her to step aside, when the end has come, and I will lay down my sword, if I can." Loken winces, realizing he just revealed the gender of his master. Between that, and the mention of Medea, the Rose Empress' identity will probably not be hard to ascertain. Then again, Caster probably already knew just from remote observation of his Mana Link to Nero.

"I believe given enough power, and enough lore, we can break the cycle of our binding to the Grail, and help Hayate, if you believe she is in danger. She's the key to it all, the anomalous Master. If we can ascertain why things are as they are from her, we can start to correct them. If... if we cannot manage this, though, I'll not see her hurt. I made an oath to Ar... to Signum, and I will keep it. Loyalty is all I have, all I have ever had. I won't sully my honor now by breaking that kind of oath. Besides, Hayate is my friend." He smiles a little.

Signum pauses, silent, for a long time. She considers all of Garviel's words carefully, weighing each one in her mind.

"I believe you," she says finally, standing straight up and leaving her sword sheathed. "Rather, I believe your offer to help, and to lay down your life for another. You are a knight, after all - not someone who begs for life or makes false oaths."

"I don't think, however, you understand the Grail War, so I'll tell you this right now. If it means the survival of my Master, I will kill you, and you will let me, on your honor as an Adeptus Astarte. If you fail to continue rejecting your nature as Berserker - an impressive feat, if again foolish - I will kill your Master."

She pauses and sighs. "I did promise not to do that, but I am someone who will break an oath to save someone," she says, memories resurfacing again...

...many times she's stood in this spot, defeated enemy before her. Every time before, she recalls cutting them down, or watching as Shamal manually released their mana back through the conduit of the Book of Darkness, or...well, actually, she doesn't remember any executions by hammer, thankfully...

So why isn't it going the same way this time?

"We can worry about workarounds to this after Rider and Lancer are defeated." And the 'real' Caster, she adds mentally. "At any rate, swear you'll give your life for my Master's, then stand up. Before I change my mind."

Shamal stood by Signum's side, hand raised with the jewels on Klarwind winking in the light. She felt no need to add her own thoughts to this as she supported her leader's decision. If he gives an oath, Shamal will abide by it.

So she waited, ready to use one of two spells, depending on Garviel's choice.

"On my honor as a Legiones Astartes, I swear that I shall die for Hayate Yagami." He makes the sign of a unity, a circle with his armored hands, on his chest, as he rises.

"But you will not kill my Master. A life for a life. I will not fail another liege-lord by letting them die." He seems in shadow for a moment, his face darkened, and there is a momentary hint of untapped strength, the strength of bitterness, hatred, and rage, within Berserker. To even conditionally threaten Nero has brought it out, re-igniting a spark he had tried to quench.

"I will trust in your discipline for now, then," Signum replies, nodding her agreement to the deal. "We are allies until you fulfill that oath one way or another."

She nods to Shamal, knowing her teammate's intent with certainty born of working alongside someone from one's first moment of consciousness. "Go ahead, Shamal."

Shamal looked Garviel in the eyes as he made his oath, seeing the rage kindled for a moment in his eyes. She made a few mental notes, still not certain about this alliance, but she trusted Signum's judgment and heeded her call. And now she could take the edge off and be who she preferred to be.

Her hands raising before her, she smiled and activated one of her Noble Phantasms, Calming Heal, through a full aria, an indication of high level thaumaturgy.

"Tranquil breeze, carry forth a blessing of healing!"

A gentle green magical aura settled upon both Garviel and Signum, healing all their wounds and even reconstructing their armor. The spell didn't take long to complete, but by the time it was done, the Astartes' armor was a gleaming white again. It even replenished his mana to the base level accorded to the Berserker class.

"There. Much better," she said with a warm smile.

"Thank you, Shamal."

He flexes his hands, and looks at his war-plate, pristine as the day it came from the great artificers and forge-cities of Belka.

"A miraculous ability, that." He even smiles a bit, some of the anger bleeding off in sheer wonder at her abilities.

"I think it is time we go our separate ways, so I shall bid you both farewell, until we meet again."

He looks from Signum to Shamal for a long time, his eyes perhaps lingering a bit longer on Archer than Caster.

"You're still a fool, but I thank you," Archer says...almost fondly. "Even if I can't believe in another way, the fact that someone else does is..."

She trails off, unable to think of the word, exactly, for how she feels.

"Regardless, Shamal, we'll be on our way," she orders, thinking they can probably make it home in one shot with the lingering affects of the Tarot.

"...refreshing," Shamal finishes for Signum.

The years, the centuries and more have worn on the Wolkenritter. Shamal wouldn't deny that. It was easier to resign themselves to their fate because it was all they'd ever seen... or at least all they could remember...

"Farewell, Garviel," Shamal added on, preparing the transfer spell to take herself and Signum back him. She's not sure they can make it in one with the excess mana, but they'll at least get close. And it might do them both some good to walk the last of the way back.

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Deathfire, Hope, and the Storm's Blade

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Let's keep it here since this is outside the volcano.

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