Berserker
Interacting with: @Turboshitter
First there was a blank stare of disbelief. Then a narrowing of downcast eyes followed this expression of shock, and click of the tongue followed that. The Holy Grail had called her to this age- No, the Holy Grail had called on her specifically to this age. Yet her summoner saw it fit to question her very identity? This was troubling. But even more troubling was the fact that she was had been troubled by such a small slight in the first place.
Clearly something was wrong, but she couldn't quite figure out why. Was this a modification by the Berserker class? An instance of flawed magery? Irregardless, she cast such bothersome thoughts from her mind. All she needed here in this place was her blade, her valor, and her faith. She inhaled sharply, about to answer the magus' words, when she heard the addition to his question. Yes. What she needed here was her faith. In abundance. And not just in the Lord.
"'Remembered me differently'? Tell me, wizard," Berserker snapped with frightening celerity, "Do the people of this age sing a bad song?” It was no threat, but the tone made it difficult to discern. But worry underlining those words was clear: how far did these revisions go? Simple embellishment was a staple of mythic tales, yes. She could even understand why her gender would be obfuscated. But to step upon the sacrifices of her and her men would be the greatest of insults. “The pride of those heroes will not be tarnished by the words of those Saracen snakes,” she seethed, an angered scowl adorning her features.
“Regardless summoner, I am indeed the hero you speak of,” she answered proudly, expression taking a less irate form. “Though clearly not in the way you expected. But I am, as you said, the greatest of the Twelve Peers. So wipe that look from your face; I am sure that such superficial preconceptions will be cast aside soon enough.” She emphasized that with a particularly vicious grin. “If not, it will become clear that I am as great a fool as Olivier said, entrusting my fate to the likes of a summoner who cannot appreciate arms mastery at its finest.”
Berserker stepped past Albert and gestured with a gauntleted hand for him to follow. “Come, magus. We head forth to the house of God,” she commanded, “Imitation or otherwise, this is a Holy Grail War, is it not? I have no intentions of dying, but it is only right we give Him praise and request absolution before the onset of battle, as is tradition of my time.” She pulled the door open and left.
Moments later, her head peeked from the side of the doorway, looking back at the teen and his menagerie of familiars. "Master," she pointed at Albert, "It is time to gauge your intelligence gathering capabilities. Where is the Church?"
Interacting with: @Turboshitter
First there was a blank stare of disbelief. Then a narrowing of downcast eyes followed this expression of shock, and click of the tongue followed that. The Holy Grail had called her to this age- No, the Holy Grail had called on her specifically to this age. Yet her summoner saw it fit to question her very identity? This was troubling. But even more troubling was the fact that she was had been troubled by such a small slight in the first place.
Clearly something was wrong, but she couldn't quite figure out why. Was this a modification by the Berserker class? An instance of flawed magery? Irregardless, she cast such bothersome thoughts from her mind. All she needed here in this place was her blade, her valor, and her faith. She inhaled sharply, about to answer the magus' words, when she heard the addition to his question. Yes. What she needed here was her faith. In abundance. And not just in the Lord.
"'Remembered me differently'? Tell me, wizard," Berserker snapped with frightening celerity, "Do the people of this age sing a bad song?” It was no threat, but the tone made it difficult to discern. But worry underlining those words was clear: how far did these revisions go? Simple embellishment was a staple of mythic tales, yes. She could even understand why her gender would be obfuscated. But to step upon the sacrifices of her and her men would be the greatest of insults. “The pride of those heroes will not be tarnished by the words of those Saracen snakes,” she seethed, an angered scowl adorning her features.
“Regardless summoner, I am indeed the hero you speak of,” she answered proudly, expression taking a less irate form. “Though clearly not in the way you expected. But I am, as you said, the greatest of the Twelve Peers. So wipe that look from your face; I am sure that such superficial preconceptions will be cast aside soon enough.” She emphasized that with a particularly vicious grin. “If not, it will become clear that I am as great a fool as Olivier said, entrusting my fate to the likes of a summoner who cannot appreciate arms mastery at its finest.”
Berserker stepped past Albert and gestured with a gauntleted hand for him to follow. “Come, magus. We head forth to the house of God,” she commanded, “Imitation or otherwise, this is a Holy Grail War, is it not? I have no intentions of dying, but it is only right we give Him praise and request absolution before the onset of battle, as is tradition of my time.” She pulled the door open and left.
Moments later, her head peeked from the side of the doorway, looking back at the teen and his menagerie of familiars. "Master," she pointed at Albert, "It is time to gauge your intelligence gathering capabilities. Where is the Church?"