The battle began with a rush beyond normal men. Noon rushed forth, spear-first with a speed exceeding that of a normal reinforced magus, his body enhanced two-fold by his conditioning and the circulation of magic to reinforce himself the blur of steel thundered forth, propelled in a swift thrust that aimed for her chest. His power was no different story, the rush of wind and the sensation of danger that would surely spark across the nerves and skin of the other combatant proving it so.
It was a frightening blow. But it was hardly his only one. Striking her or not he didn’t stop, pulling back both in blade and body so as to maintain the distance between them.
Do not let her escape, do not let her close in. A chaser when one marked themselves as prey, a defender when one barred their fangs. To fight with a spear was to punish and control distance.
His weapon glimmered with magical energy as it flew in a series of following blows that chased after her as he carefully paid attention to her coming movements. As swift as her movements might be his awareness honed in on her and followed her.
The throbbing in his head continued, but it didn’t hurt anymore. This was something he could handle. This was not the strain in trying to see the splendor of a heroic legend. He could not see the future but he could see, he was aware of her movements, seeing in clear detail with his vision how her body shifted.
A dance of ebb and flow. Cautious and yet aggressive.
"Mhm, hurrying. I’m fine with that. But which is it? Are we hurrying away from them?”
Then he smiled as he suddenly turned into a shop. “Or are we hurrying towards them?”
“There’s no sense in being scared. That’s a way you lose freedom. But there’s no sense in going out of your way for danger or trying to prove something by being brave either. Shackles, obligations. I’m a lawbreaker who didn’t let what I want and what the law stare at each other in some cold war. But I didn’t act as some rabid animal either. Restraint is good to an extent, or well, what is it really? What’s to say is the difference between living without fetters and doing things crazy without care? Is living without worrying about the consequences or indulging into madness freedom? I don’t think so. You stop being human, you stop being yourself. You’re a monster, or you’re a useless wreck then.”
For a moment he became silent, a small nostalgic and ponderous smile forming on his face as he tried on hat after hat.
“Living free, hm, now that I think about it, it’s hard to explain. Living in the frontier where the laws and rules were poorly defined maybe my freedom was a bit poorly defined too? But all I can say is that freedom was the real thing. Isn’t that how someone like me somehow became a legend?
“All I can say master is don’t worry about the rules, the world, or people. Do what you want, but don’t lose who you are.”
He finally chose a hat, and nicked two. “Let’s go now~” he said with a pip of cheer, tugging on his master’s hand and leading her out swifter than the workers of the shop could follow without hurting her.
“Are you the master of Archer?” he asked a question that needed not answer. He saw the magical energy, and he saw the way the young woman carried herself. Any non-related bystanders would have surely been chased away by now, and a unrelated master would have no reason to be here.
A fighter, a warrior, a living weapon.
She was the same too.
“I am Noon Triswich, master of Ywain. For the sake of my lord I descend upon Paris to claim it.” The spear in his hand rose as he took a stance.
The command he heard still resonated within him, honing his mind, influencing his body. Control exerted, his true self came forth as his thoughts turned towards the man his spear was named after. A flash of color as his circuits rotated went through his body, faint lines coursing with magical energy and glowing for a moment the sorrowful red of a setting sun. In the night where things were unclear and dark he would stand sure of himself in spirit and body. His was a mind and body without doubt and hesitation, and standing firm and tall he waited for her answer and battle.
Judging from what he could see of her… this was not a battle in which he’d be able to cast many spells. This then was not a fight as a magus but as a warrior. Standing there as a knight he would not accept defeat.
The servants were engulfed in their own battle.
But let them know that they would not be the only ones to shine tonight.
Yet despite the worried words she only sported a big grin.
“Well, I guess it’s time for me to get to work.”
The girl named Elaine rose to her feet, and then rose some more. Floating into the air as wings sprouted from her back. Or perhaps they were always there?
As Noon Triswich spoke of his victory, as Ywain faced his ally she began a bit of work of her own.
The winds gathered, the winds danced. “Fly, lion. Jump like a cat and catch a mouse. Or is it a hawk in this case?”
Another spell was born, wind shifting covering Ywain. Not a defense, or well, not against the arrows that could rip through this cover like the fragile membrane of an egg. But rather that against the winds and obstructions. Fly to your foe, let your obstacles melt away, claim your prize.
With a smile she watched, a small hidden observer who took in the scene of the battle with wicked amusement and hopeful pride.
Already he was considering what to do, arriving on a few options and ideas after finishing his first spell. There no attacks towards him from Archer, the servant apparently focused on breaking a distance. His eyes, they danced incessantly, his head throbbed. The speed of a servant was normally too fast to see, too fast to keep up with, but with that…
With that sight he could follow Archer to an extent. But even then there was no time, nor reliable means of striking a knight class directly with magic. So he would bear witness until a proper time came.
He moved with his servant, mindful of the warning given to him by Ywain and moving with a seemingly surprising perception of them.
Noon stepped forth with his servant and raised a hand.
“Saber. If others have summoned the knights with the belief that they will stand as supreme, that they hold the right and position of victors. Then it is time for us to crush that belief. After all that is already us, right?”
Ywain.
The name vibrated through his body and mind as he returned his blade to his sheath. The massive weapon was replaced by a fine well-balanced spear. A martial weapon meant for war, yet with a crossguard that reminded one of a spear fit for hunting the large and wild boars of the forests.
Yes, Ywain would do.
'My name is Noon Triswich, Knight and blade of my lord. I stand as the one who shall win the Holy Grail and territory of France with my servant, Ywain.” His words addressed the other knight, his words addressed the city, his words addressed himself.
Will you be able to live up to that promise?
Without doubt he confidently declared the true name of Saber, standing by him and concreting the image of power they held. He was not a magus who used the vague hidden gleam of a shining star forced to remain anonymous and cover up his famed deeds. With him stood Ywain, the Lion of Camelot.
Ah, his lord would likely yell at him for this later.
“Ywain. My head has cleared. We have already made plenty of favorable progress. But this is a war and we will have to fight others. Show me that the most peerless blade descended upon my Round Table.”
His stern commanding gaze gave way to a smile. “Heh, it’s a bit unreasonable to ask you to fight your friend as your first enemy when we had other options isn’t it? But I want to see Ywain, I want to see you shine brighter than the other knights so there will be no room for doubt.”
By drawing you I pulled the strongest card.
He turned his attention to the other Knight. “ Your words I accept, and agree with. Even if you had come to ask for an alliance I’m afraid that I would have asked Ywain to fight you anyway.”
Perhaps it is childish a small voice asked inside him before he snuffed it away.
“I do not mean to speak ill of your master but we will stand above her, and above you. As for fair… I have no intention of sitting idly when my servant fights. If your master does not appear to fight then I will support Ywain as his master and as a magus. Do not hold me any ill will for that, for is that not a proper duel? A servant is the weapon of his master, just as I am a weapon for my lord. The true battle and true sum is that of master and master, servant and servant. Should you wish to keep your lord safe then you will have to make do with that advantage.”
He shook his head as he said the word advantage.
For in his eyes it would mean that the odds were stacked in their favor.
“I had in truth planned to tell the two of you once we went somewhere more secluded, but I believe that the correct path is this.”
He cast his eyes back to the other knight as he began to chant for a spell. A curse, a distortion weaved of fire. Not one to strike, but one to obscure and make difficult and vague the form of Ywain. The first simple addition and boon to add to him through the arts of a druid. Hiding in the sun, in the light. What should illuminate instead obscured. What should show instead blinded. The dichotomy of fire and light.
It wouldn't stop a Knight of the Round, but in a battle between servants every difference would surely count.
"Hmm? a new country. It's everything different from everything. But it's not like I stuck in one place at all back at home. It's all fine I guess.
As for what you want to call me that's fine with you. There's not much hiding my class so it might not be worth callin me anything but Archer. Archer, Partner, or Familiar. All three works fine. I value my freedom but I know what we I am, what we're suppose to be. The leash might be loose, but the leash exists to keep me existing too. Don't worry. I won't run off however."
He gives off a wink before looking over at the shops as they passed by. "Anything you want? I wouldn't mind a hat or a nice scarf."
“Two prizes, one vastly superior to the other that hangs as decoration. But there are many people who wish for different things, all the more when they surround a Holy Grail. But which one do you wish for?”
He became silent for a time as the woman gave her proposal. There were many other servants and there were plenty of magi who ventured to Paris in hopes of gaining this prize but…
Would it be a risk to attempt gaining an ally? Were his own abilities, his own allies inadequate?
No, that wasn’t it.
Was he afraid of having to turn his blade against someone he worked with?
No, that wasn’t it. The life of a magus left one with a strange set of relations and values. Clinging to what they held precious tighter than any normal man, driven by goals and obsessions so divorced from the norm. There was nothing wrong with killing each other, there was nothing wrong with opposing each other. So there were no hard feelings, no animosity in their confrontation.
Was it his own pride? He was the blade of his lord, the blade that should be able to cut through this ritual and claim victory.
…
“Be ready for anything they may attempt to do.”
Blade still in hand, held with a firm controlled grip despite the immense size of the sword, he looked over not at the opposing servant but instead the master with distant and yet brimming eyes. How they looked from afar, yet how they burned, like the sun they held a presence and nobility that was overbearing even when not focused.
Yet…
They were quite clearly stiff. The young man known as Noon clearly not fully at ease about the current situation.
“I would not mind working together, but there are a few things I must say.”
He held up a finger.
“First. We may work together but we will not be allies. Eventually, whether it is the end of this war, or earlier we will face each other as enemies.”
He held up a second finger.
“Second. We may be enemies but we will be enemies to others first, then enemies to each other second. We will not interfere in each others work, we will sometimes help each other and we will individually win. If there comes the time for a strong enemy that requires more than one servant, or another enemy group then we will face them together. However we will not drag each other to our deaths. This is not an alliance that we will have to honor to self-destruction”
He raised another finger.
“Third. We will be inviting you to my territory. I do not know of your abilities as a magus, nor of your servant. However for the time being it would be best to be in the same area. Enemy attacks would be easier to deter and I have already established a suitable grounds.”
“Fourth, we will establish a contract of hospitality so as to prevent hostile actions towards each other and not have to worry about daggers in our back as we rest in our grounds.”
The notion that they’d be vulnerable when their alliance was ended by needing to leave it was unsaid. However… there was the risk that perhaps they’d try to subvert his territory. But he considered that unlikely.
But it was true. It would genuinely make any bothersome intrusions or outright assaults easier to repel.
“My name is Noon Triswich. Knight of my Lord. I come from Britain in representation of my lord as his blade in this conflict. My battle is to claim this land as his with little need for the wish.”
He offered a smile. “I’m afraid that I cannot afford to lose. But defeat need not be determined now.”
How arrogant, and yet how sincere were his words. His face was kind and nice, but perhaps that would strike at one’s ego even more than a twisted boisterous face. A knight who genuinely believed in his success.
He was not one who looked at others as losers before the battle was determined, but rather already held the image of himself as the victor.
The search didn’t take long at all, all things considered.
Not that it was likely that his quarry was trying to hide. But when they got there... should they talk or should they fight?... He made up his mind.
Making their way through the city, circuits prepared, he walked in the night lights detectable to another magus. Well, not that it wouldn’t be hard to find him just as they noticed them due to the command seals.
“That’s definitely them, that magical energy is not of normal people.”
The voice of Elaine came, even if the girl seemed to part ways from them as they approached. The small girl slinked away, hard for any to see, through magic or through keen eyes. Even saber would note some difficulty being aware of her presence without focusing on her. A special talent it seemed.
“Got it.” Noon turned towards his servant. “Saber,” he called out in his mind. “I will trust your judgement. However let us not utilize any of our trump cards if required. This is our baptism. I do not know what to expect in a battle of the Grail War. I can only hope that I can get used to it, and the battles between servants with this fight.”
The two moved to bar the path of the other pair.
They looked cheerful, happy. Like the three did moments ago before they realized the presence of another master and servant. Did they not care of the war that they found themselves in? Was some joy so above the danger that they accepted and found themselves in? Or were they just that secure in their own power that this was a stroll of leisure that accepted no notion that they could be threatened?
It didn’t matter.
“All for my lord.” he whispered to himself before coming to a stop.
“Whether you are friend or foe you are the first other competitor I will meet in this war. Or perhaps I’ve spoken a mistake? We are all enemies, aren’t we? This is a battle with one victor.”
He held no hatred or aggression in his words. This was simply a task to carry out dutifully.
“Noon Triswich. I command you, defeat your enemies and claim the position of victor for the Holy Grail War.”
The words of another filled his ears, words that could not be heard by any of the others at the scene. It was not that he held a earpiece on him, or held some sort of mystic code that would allow him to pick up the speech of someone else not present.
Then what was it?
In response to the command his world shrinked.
His mind focused, his body shifted, transforming in how he held himself. Shifting gears, giving birth to the existence of a task.
“Wake up, Noon” He heard a soft, gentle whisper.
He opened his eyes he did not take his gaze off of the two for even a moment
Sight layered upon each other.
His head throbbed. In the place of his eyes he opened a new set. Eyes that weren’t his opened, seeing and filling his brain with new information.
This was within the acceptable parameters.
Information that would overwhelm a normal human and was notable even for a magus was made into something that could be processed.
He saw.
“Gawain.”
From the rectangular “sheath” of metal came a massive sword, beautiful and unblemished as it was pulled free from its comerades. Chalky white steel and silver was kissed by the embellishments of golden flowers, and a pattern of an oak tree that held not leaves but sun symbolizing weaves collecting around rubies that radiated a warmth-like aura. He took it in hand with a well-oiled motion going beyond just practiced. It was so smooth it was as if he was a machine made just for that one grab.
He could not feel the weight of the metal for he only felt the weight of the promise. Ah, how heavy this sword is, how heavy the duty that fills its every stroke.
He lifted it lightly. He was one who was born to withstand that weight.
There’s something definitely odd about that partner. Something like that shouldn’t have a connection to me, even if I might be the fastest, and therefore deadliest, gun in the west. If it’s killing people then any sort of bullet’ll do. What matters is that it hits right and hits first.
He takes a look at the aforementioned gun before walking. “Yeah, there’s something more to it, definitely. But I don’t know what. I’m no mage. Now how about we get roaming? Why don’t we check out where there’s shops and such. Even in the modern age the heart of a town’s in what they’re selling, right?”
And what could be taken, he thought to himself.
“How about the middle then? From what you’ve told me south of here towards the middle has a lot. Although I kinda want to avoid where the big-wigs running this place are holding up. Guess we could go beyond that also?”
He grinned and skipped out the door, nary a wave or word to his master as he assumed she’d follow along. It was only after the house faded into the background, the gunman immersed in the streets that he finally spoke again.
“We’ll go out for a bit, but once we’re back we’re starting aiming drills. So let’s live wild for a few hours.”
"See? see? he gets it. No wonder why he’s a hero and a knight. Especially that sort, he’s experienced!”
“Elaine just because you’re-”
“You should be calling me Lady Elaine at this point you know~”
He closed his eyes and smiled, pausing in his step. But instead of an admonishment or a countering line of banter Noon instead suddenly turned about, turning his body in a sudden sweeping motion and folding down to a knee. Taking the small girl’s hand gently, he touched it to his forehead, then lips.
“Yes milady.”
“Eh… you actually did it.” Elaine for her part looked down with a small touch of surprise… before giving away into a giggling fit. “Ah… no, that’s right. Of course you would, that’s very much like you Noon. Even if it’s a joke, you’re still serious too about it. Aha, that still almost makes my heart flutter… or so you wish I’d say right? You're a few years too young to make that happen.” She batted her lashes before breaking away and facing towards Saber. “Was this what it was like for all the girls back in your times? Well, if it was I missed out on something nice.” She averted her gaze from Saber’s face, her eyes instead trailing down to the ground. Every once in a while she glanced back over her shoulder and let out a small noise that only the servant could hear with his senses beyond human limits.
“I think that if it were to be…”
She whispered to herself.
Was she?...
“Ah, a master.”
Don’t forget
Noon raised his right hand, focusing in on it while also showing it to the other two. His poise took on subtle changes that Saber would easily notice. His demeanor shifted, no longer light and joyful, but rather almost robotic as a sense of purpose flooded him. Excess movements were thrown away, the mirth and sounds of the Paris nightlife faded away, cast aside as though it were a fantasy of another world.
His hands burned.
Fire danced across his fingers. He felt the blood boil, the skin bubble and crisp up simultaneously. A familiar pain greeted him as he transitioned into his role as a knight and magus.
Even if he was silent, even someone said to be a bit dense like him could see the feelings on the servant’s face.
Even if she teased and taunted the spirited coaxing as she pulled the two by the hand towards exciting and foreign new things showed how much she was enjoying this.
There was no place for that in his heart right now. Friend? Foe? It didn’t matter. For a meeting between magi his heart would turn to stone. He was an sword of his lord. He was here only to further their agenda and claim this land in their name. Kill in their name, save in their name.
The hands that had been covered with dirt were now pristine, washed and covered by gloves of pure white. His steps resonated through the no longer empty halls of the castle Vincennes. The sun set and so too did the busy work of preparing the land and territory.
The armory on his back felt heavier than ever as he walked into the room that was the center of the once former royal dwelling. A plain magical circle was painted on the ground from earlier, and it was to that circle that he would conduct the first and foremost ritual. So simple and yet so important to this war.
“Hey, Noon.”
Slowly he removed the blades from his back and then placed them, thrusting them into the ground, burying them into the floor and setting them as part of the circle. Then finally he placed the sheath at the middle.
“Heeey, Noon.”
This would be his catalyst. The blades bearing the name of knights, the sheath that represented their home and gathering spot.
“Noooooon, you know you don’t have to go all out for something like this right? You’ve already got the circle, just say the stuff and let’s get going!”
He finally turned to the source of the voice. A young looking girl, someone who one would place to be in her mid teens by sight alone. Compared to the magus who walked with a dignified air and discipline she was rambunctious and bouncing all over, her excitement clearly that of the kind that showed she was looking forward to things to come.
“The ritual isn’t important from the viewpoint of casting the spell. But it’s important to be proper just in case to make sure nothing goes wrong… Even more important than that we need to show a good job and give a good impression to a hero. What would the Knights think of a magus who treats summoning someone like them so lightly?”
“Mhmm. I guess you’re right… but come on, we’ve been working all day you know? I’m sure the servant would understand! It took almost as long to clean up as actually doing the work too… It’s Paris… Paris! We need to go try out all the coffee shops, the restaurants, the bakeries. Oh and of course we need to get new clothes, we need to go to the towers and there’s the m-”
The girl kept on talking, even as she danced into the circle. Fingers brushed the pommels of swords, the shafts of spears, the handles of other assorted arms. Her feet brushed over the still wet lines of the circle, yet left no trace of her steps. An unbelievably light existence, an unbelievably delicate existence so at odds with her overwhelming energy and childishness. Then she stumbled. “Awah!”
Her foot dragged and smeared the red stain on the ground. Looking between it and the young man chosen to be a master in the upcoming ritual, she was silent for a time before coyly raising a palm to her face to cover a sly smile. “Woops~” the insincere word came with a hop away from the circle.
But when he looked at the circle… he noticed that it was in fact made complete by her touch.
“Working even now, huh? I thought you said that I made you help out even more you’d make the faeries go on strike?”
“Fuuh, I’m getting antsy. Summon your servant already! Maybe it’ll be a pretty girl. I heard that Sir Tristain was actually a woman all along. Or was that Lancelot? Anyway I’m pretty sure one of the Round Knights was one. If it’s a man I’ll take him if he’s a hunk.”
Watching him the impression might have been that the man was filtering out everything she was saying, but even as he got down on his knees and did a few small adjustments his ears took in every word, until finally he called out to her to interrupt it.
“Elaine, it’s ready.”
“Ok, ok.”
The idea that they would fail to call upon one of the knights wasn’t even a consideration. Their conversation that was built on the premise of not if, but rather who was just a sign of that.
But..
“But you know Noon, your master could’ve been less stingy. They didn’t give us anything much. Not a single mystic code, not a single attendant, not a single bit of extra information or even help cleaning this place up. He didn’t even give us a catalyst. Just plane tickets and off you go! Just me and you.”
“It’s fine. They need to tie down some of the others that have their eyes on Paris. If any of the others were to devote their full resources this war would soon become an all out battle between our side and theirs. Besides it’s a sign of trust isn’t it? My lord isn’t foolish enough to send me like this if it wasn’t enough.”
“You’re always so trusting aren’t you? Well that’s how you’re suppose to be I guess. Anyway let’s see what comes out.”
A star descended. A sword claimed.
“Oh, he’s hot! Definitely my type.”
And those were the first words that the servant would hear in his return to the world.
Latin District: Eastern Outskirts.
“Mmhmm. It’s ok at night but I definitely want to walk around during the day.”
“Well let’s figure out where we want to come back to. We shouldn’t eat anything big in case another servant attacks us but why don’t we get something to bring back? We didn’t have the time to cook today after all.”
At that Noon looks over at Ywain with a slightly sheepish expression that looked sorry. “It’s not really something that can be excused, but we haven’t even finished work on the territory even spending most of the day. So I wasn’t able to cook a welcome feast for you. Maybe tomorrow that could be managed, Saber? But for now is there anywhere you think we should go or get in particular for work or fun?”
“Fun, fun! There’s always tomorrow for killing!” Chirped up the girl. “Well, not that you have to kill. But you know they would be happen if we just so happened to get rid of someone who might belong to the other factions…” “I’ll act accordingly, Elaine.” His reply was curt, slightly tense as he brushed the side of his sheathed weapons with his a hand.
“Still a bit soft even after growing up, mm? Well that’s fine too Noon. But mhm, that’s true. I haven’t gotten to visit Paris, but neither has Saber has he? I’ll give him 30% of my sight-seeing vote rights. You get to have 10%, Noon.”
“That’s definitely unfair.”
“Lady’s privilege. You’re a knight aren’t you?”
“That’s definitely not how it works!”
The city of Paris was now home to a bloody hidden conflict. But where those two walked, dragging the knight of the Lion with them, there was laughter like any other day of a cheery life.
Objective for the Grail: Sent on a mission by the lord he serves to claim the position of victor in the Grail War, and of course, the land of Paris, in his lord’s name.
Personality: An unbending, unrelenting man who walks a proper path. Propelled by his environment, the expectations of his family and the crest engraved into his body
His conduct and self is that which would be called pure. An ideal who manages to struggle without faltering.
Polite, well-mannered. Yet there’s a touch of well-meaning self-centeredness in his view. His instinct and his manner of thinking is that that flows from himself and what he could do. A person who would beat himself up that he himself did not prevent a tragedy, a person who would think of all problems in the lens of how he could solve it first and foremost.
A person who expects the world to be something to be solved by him, and a person who expects highly of himself. An extension into self-sacrifice which one must question the roots of whether it is truly a matter of goodness, or some touch of narcissism. Without thinking on that he continues to walk his path, conquering what lies ahead.
Bio (Family): A family said to hold a legendary lineage, although its start was not all that connected to the path of a magus. The progenitor of the Triswich is believed, by the family to be none other than the Knight of the Round Table of the Sun, Gawain. While it lies as an unconfirmed fact, it is not something that others find all too much a thing to dispute, and some even see it as plausible. The beginnings of the Triswich either way hold a peculiar direction. Taking the symbol of the knight's failure, the Sash given by Lady Bertilak, and making it their magic crest. While not holding the powers she had claimed, it was nonetheless a icon with mystery that served them as the base of their crest. A mystery to hold their knowledge, and a perfect means to pass down their drive for their ideals and the adherence to the path passed down.
While at first a family of druids and magi that could be called to be more along the line of hermits that lived in the forests after the ebbing of civilization and the tragedy of their progenitor. The history and legacy of the knights has become more of a guiding aspect in their direction in the last number of centuries with the progression of civilization and modernity.
Falling under the banner of the Barthomeloi Faction and tying themselves to one of the lords of the Clocktower to establish their position in exchange for serving the lord. The Triswich have, with their legacy, age and current standing become a respectable and known family. A standing that they live up to with talent, expertise and knowledge. In their eyes what they recieve by serving their lord is more than worth the time and risk involved.
However despite that, while some may call them knights of the Aristocratic faction. Others call them tree-planters who decided to try and brush up and present themselves nice to play at being lapdogs.
Bio (Noon): One day a Triswich visited the land of the sun. There he met a shaman girl at a shrine dedicated to a sun god, found her bewitching, and fell in love. Together the two had a child of mixed blood and mixed suns.
Living his early years in Japan, when the Triswich family moved back to their ancestral lands in Britain, young Akira, then dubbed Noon found himself in a foreign strange land so different from what he thought of as home. A foreigner, and seen as a strange oddity, or even a blight upon an ancient family by bringing in outside blood and being seen as the folly and whim of his father, the Clock Tower and English lands looked upon him unkindly as it did with any regarding those who came from what was considered a backwater savage land.
Yet despite his part Japanese blood, and his unfamiliarity he endured. Following in his father’s footsteps, delving into the path of a Triswich and soon becoming more English and western than someone who was pure in the words of some. Dissent and opposition was silenced by his conduct as he proved himself a worthy heir twice over to make up for the prejudice he faced.
While he holds enemies, both as a result of his lord and the position of his family, along with his blood. He now pursues the advancement of the Triswich while serving his lord dutifully as his personal knight, distinguishing himself enough to be accepted as a respectable heir to his father.
Now he is sent to Paris to claim the land for his lord.
Ah? The wish? He hasn’t thought about what it’d be used for. His lord didn’t seem to have that much interest and said he could have it but…
Really, what is such a thing good for?
--- Magic Circuit Switch: The sensation of flames bathing his hands.
Number of Magic Circuits: C
Quality of Magic Circuits: A
---
Elemental Affinity: Fire and Earth
Magecraft:
General Magecraft: As a magus his knowledge covers what is expected and basic as par for course.
Fire and Earth Magic: The abilities of Noon when it comes to elemental magic are rather standard. However the power behind his flames are quite notable.
His earth magic is more well suited for out of combat applications.
Sorcery Trait: Stardawn Glow
For most mages their circuits rotate and mimic the flow of the earth leylines and tectonic movements. However the magic circuits of the Triswich are instead aligned to the sun.
At the eponymous time when the sun is at its zenith, Noon’s circuits glow as a mirror to the sun.
Druidism: Walking among the forest, utilizing the bounty of nature, sacrificing to the gods and communing with the land. It is the famed art and discipline passed down from the gaelic cultures and covers most of the magecraft based in those traditions. However the focus is especially on the manipulation of the environment and nature.
Working with materials to create various medicines, poisons and even items. Both of natural properties resulting from the ingredients, and items and medicines based off celtic legend and traditions, is possible.
Allows also to a degree of working with spiritual matters and healing. Something helps for the creation of his familiars.
The ability to work with trees includes growing, manipulating, utilizing the meaning of trees and wood, and establishing a forest as a fairy forest.
Fairy (False): Familiars: The creation and utilization of familiars that take upon the shape, and to an extent, the powers and nature of faeries. Replicating a fairy is impossible, but using the familiars, certain spells and tricks that invoke and use the idea of faeries become possible.
And of course what is a knight without faeries? Or a druid without a relation to the touch of the land? Combining those two facets, it then is no surprise that the Triswich embarked on the path of creating a stand-in for such companions and benefactors.
The make-up of these familiars are that of suitable spirits given a surface layer and shape of a fairy. The spirits at times color, yet give power to the resulting fairy. Those faeries are then given more specialized roles.
Bounded Fields/Territory Creation: The arts of druidism, the establishment of a “castle” or study as a knight.
The Triswich, and Noon by extension are experts at bounded fields. Both in the creation of false faerie forests that confuse and reject trespassers and hide things. Sanctifying places as lakes and dealing with atmosphere, and of course, establishing a “fairy-made home”. The idea of the chalky white walls of Camelot is something that is a dream, but that dream holds power when used as an concept by the Triswich.
Self-Suggestion: While not exactly magecraft, the base and origins of the Triswich is shame, and of a resolution brought by it. The moment they chose the Sash as their magic crest they have decided to live and embody the meaning of the story of the Sun Knight and his humbling.
They must excel, they must live up to, and exceed the perfect knight. A mystic code dyed in the sun and in the promise over generations. Just as the Triswich shaped what became of the sash, so did it shape them.
Noon, along with the other heirs of the Triswich has in his very blood a strong conditioning and ability for self-hypnosis. To live up to the standards they set to themselves, to live properly. It is something that they use to keep themselves on a rightful path, and also to exceed their limits when that path brings them into hardship.
The true Noon could be said to only come forth when he becomes a focused existence that dedicates his breath and life to a important task.
Contracts and Hospitality: Geases, magecraft that have to do with oaths, deals and contracts are another talent of Noon due to the base of his magic crest. This also extends to an extent magecraft that deals with the idea of hospitality which exists plenty in the magic of his homeland.
Crest: 12 generations
Weapon/Mystic Codes:
Sunsworn Green:
If the Sash of Bertilak is a false protection, then the conceptual formalwear worn as Noon’s garments for battle and formal occasions as a modern knight and magus are a mystic code passed down through the family line that is their armor to make up for that lie.
A protective wear that extends its protection beyond the skin it covers. In a sense a conceptual formalwear rather than something that relies primarily on its physical attributes to block against physical attacks. It's protection is at the level of E rank.
Other than being a defense it also has float spell functions and the ability to give Noon a sudden burst in speed. Often he combines these for sudden swift acceleration with a jump, to surprise his foes, or add more power to a big blow.
L{ogres}.ayer.D{olorous} Restrict: Glorypledge
A massive blade that is in truth a collection of arms designed to be put together as one blade passed down the Triswich line To prevent it from being too unwieldy a weight-reduction enchantment is part of it.
While each one is a high quality magical weapon the mystic code as a whole is considered to be the collection rather than the individual pieces.
Containing magical energy, holding supernatural sharpness, flexibility and hardness, from the point of having a blade the weapons within them are top of the line.
However their true use is in syncing with the family speciality of self-suggestion and oaths.
Each arm named after a knight of the round, they are sealed for normal use, only allowed and utilized when the condition attached to that weapon are met. A one-sided self made promise with the knight the arm represents. To use it is to hold one’s conduct and circumstances and think of how that knight may judge them.
The moment he takes it in hand all doubts melt away.
Bedivere: (A broadsword) Palamedes: (A swordstaff that can switch between spear and sword) Lancelot: (A arming sword) Mordred: (A silver axe) Galahad: (A lance) Gaheris: (A pair of gauntles) Gareth: (A shield) Agravain: (A mace) Kay: (A scythe) Ywain: (A spear) Gawain: (A massive longsword) Arthur : (A even more massive sword)
The oaths are omitted for narrative purposes from the public sheet.
As a side note the sheath (named Logres) is a conceptual round table, a place where knights gather. Other than being a good sheath and that it doesn't have too much an effect, other than preserving the blade.
Extra Sword: STAIN
A rusted sword that is technically part of the collection. However in it's current state it's nothing more than a stain. The name it has was engraved but it's covered up. ***ST*IN is all that's legible.
Familiar Creation Reagents: Various reagents and ingredients, including contained wraiths and grudges for the purpose of familiar creation. Noon has enough for 30 faeries brought with him to France.
Druidic Ingredients and Medicines: Tree seeds, adder stones, resins, sidhe dirt, mushrooms, leaves, mistletoe, and all the sort of things a druid needs is required.
Also includes some already complete antidotes, healing potions and other medicine.
Some of it even is good for cooking.
Other Skills:
Cooking: EX Ability to cook on a level unmatched by any other. No matter what he makes it will always be at that impossible to achieve level, every dish reaching the same zenith possible to Noon. There is no better or worse examples. Every dish he makes is of the same quality as the last.
Martial Ability: Best with swords and spears (along with staves.) However Noon is adept at all sorts of combat with weapons. However when it comes to unarmed combat he is not as much of an expert as a focused practitioner. That said his brawling and completeness as a fighter is without question. His kicks are also quite dangerous and he's notable at being overbearing with strength and speed. An aggressive fighter all in all.
His level of swordsmanship is something that approaches the skill of a knight captain.
He also has been dabbling in, and can execute moves based on Iaijutsu. The pursuit is less about the philosophical zen, but instead due to a personal fancy. However the art syncs up very well with his family's practices and his own nature.
Riding: As a knight and sometimes Chauffer, Noon is a talented and experienced rider of horses, bikes and cars. Has entered a few races before. However his raw ability as a driver is not enough to overcome professionals through technique alone.
Exceptional Benefit: Superior Mystic Code
Name: Billy the Kid
Title: The Kid/Romance of the West
Class: Archer
Gender: Male
Attribute: Man
Era: 1859-1881
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Personality: Someone who lives for freedom. Tactful, and someone who knows how to avoid trouble after a rocky beginning. Living outside of the law, skirting the boundaries between the frontier wilds and man who was settling it. The symbol who embodied the wild west.
Independent Action: A It is possible to take action even without a Master. However, to use Noble Phantasms of great magical energy consumption, backup from the Master is necessary. At Rank A, it is possible for a Servant to stay in the world for about a week without a Master
Magic Resistance: N/A As a modern hero with no real ability to defend against magic, his skill in this is essentially nonexistent even with his class container.
Personal Skills:
Riding C+: The ability to ride horses with exceptional ability. However he is unable to ride other living beings.
Marksmanship A++: The ability and talent with firearms that marks him as a once a century genius. Includes things such as trickshots. Quick Draw A+: A specialized/expanded upon technique. The ability of Billy to see his enemy draw, draw in response and have time to spare. Similar to the Boar Huntress's ability to check others and act in response to them. Eye of the Mind (False) C: A natural talent to sense danger through intuitionand a sixth sense. Seeing through motions of the enemy, analyzing the battle and forging a way to victory. Whether that be escape or killing the enemy are all enhanced so long as it's possible.
Noble Phantasm:
Name: Thunderer Title: Thunderclap of Breaking Sound Rank: C++ NP Type: Anti-Unit Range: 1-100 Maximum Number of Targets: 1
Description: A counter-like three-burst shot by means of a Colt M1877 double-action revolver (nicknamed "Thunderer"), whose use Billy the Kid is said to have favored. The anecdotes associated with him turned into a Noble Phantasm. To be exact, it is not like the revolver is a Noble Phantasm, and if you comprehensively look at the whole of "Billy the Kid's marksmanship when he holds this revolver", it seems more of a Personal Skill than a Noble Phantasm. The most devious aspect of this Noble Phantasm is its low prana consumption, derived from the fact that the concept of Noble Phantasm is incorporated into the greater section called "technique". In specific terms, it is no more than the same extent of consumption of employing a E Rank Noble Phantasm.
In function the perception of time slows for Archer. Grasping the location of his enemies and awareness of his surroundings, he dodges and fires three shots aiming for the vitals as a counter attack. However in the end even with this Noble Phantasm something that is impossible to dodge for Archer cannot be turned into something that is avoided.
Name: Elaine
Species: Fairy (False)/Familiar.
Appearance: A fairy that at times masquerades as a rather short and young girl. Taking to modern wear and sensibilities quite easily despite what she is and her age (old enough to have been with Noon Triswich for all his life, and his father in a similar fashion.) Not extremely flashy. She often sports a simple cap, overalls, a shirt and sneakers with heel wheels that she enjoys skating around with.
In her fairy form she normally is around 3.5 feet tall. However she can change her shape to be around the size of a 15 year old girl, or shrink to 2 feet at most.
Even then she could be said to be a big fairy. One that helps with ruling over and standing over the others as the one to enforce order and rules.
