Tiger Dojo Episode One's been added to the OOC OP. Excuse the dryness, bit of a rush job since I either had to do it now or basically hold off for a week.
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Servant Rider - Sigurd has been killed.
The Tiger Dojo will be up this weekend.
Due to the nature of this death and the GM's feelings about the events leading up to it, there will be minor occurrences in the future that slightly benefit the German faction. This is not intended to equalize the field, but rather to soften the blow due to my personal reservations about how this all occurred. This should not be taken as a show of favoritism or something that will be done via metagaming, OOC action, and the like. I'm informing everyone about this so they don't think it's unintentional.
Gavel Keyword, 02 - The Fourth Holy Scripture: Radah, has been updated with information on its Guardian Spirit.
The Tiger Dojo will be up this weekend.
Due to the nature of this death and the GM's feelings about the events leading up to it, there will be minor occurrences in the future that slightly benefit the German faction. This is not intended to equalize the field, but rather to soften the blow due to my personal reservations about how this all occurred. This should not be taken as a show of favoritism or something that will be done via metagaming, OOC action, and the like. I'm informing everyone about this so they don't think it's unintentional.
Gavel Keyword, 02 - The Fourth Holy Scripture: Radah, has been updated with information on its Guardian Spirit.
...This is a digression, but unlike his peers in the Burial Agency, Anthony Giacosa merely possesses two things that make him worthy of that status: his body's power, and his Holy Scripture. If not for either of these, he would be no better than an average Executor, albeit a frighteningly experienced one.
This is to say that if there was anything Anthony Giacosa was secure in, it was the power of Radah. That partner of his had seen him through a thousand battles, had made him into the monster of God that he was today. The other Burial Agents, the Eighth Sacrament, his own body, all of those could fail him and indeed had in the past, but Radah never once had.
If he was without it, this battle would surely have been different, but before everything else, he trusted Radah. If his own trained instincts told him he needed to do something and Radah urged him otherwise, he would follow Radah. As for the issue of how a weapon could urge a man to act...
'Confirmed the hit! He had some sort of magical energy armor, probably based off the concept of dragon scales, so we didn't do damage. Effect still hit, though, the flow of magical energy around him's plummeted, but his spiritual foundation's still stable, so he might have another trick or two left. He said he had a mount, and I don't want to imagine what the proper use of that sword is. Don't give him a chance to get his wits about him, take him down now!'
'Got it. If you see fluctuations of magical energy start to form around him...I'm not risking anything against someone with a sword that can hurt you who hasn't used a single trump card. I don't care if we only have three charges left, you have permission to ignite.'
His body had failed him in the past, but Radah never had. Even when it failed its previous user against that great glass moon, it didn't fail Anthony Giacosa. Were he alone, he would need a moment. Recover from the blow, assess the situation, decide what to do. However, here and now, he needed none of those things. Still dazed as he was from the blow to his head, the contract to his partner who laid at Sigurd's feet served as a line that he didn't need a clear head to follow.
In the same moment that Emmerich began to invoke his Command Seal, Gavel's body jettisoned forth. It would merely take Emmerich one second to give the command, but one second was quite a long time when Servants were concerned.
Seeing this, Sigurd in the same moment reached for his mount.
'Flow of magical energy's changing! It's not from the sword, so it's either some hidden card of his or his mount. Igniting, I'm going to back you up!'
And seeing this, Gavel's partner in the same moment chose to act.
In other words, it could be said that four things happened at once.
Gavel charged forwards at his enemy, the directions of his partner overcoming that split-second daze.
Sigurd called on Grani to bring his mount into the world.
Emmerich began to invoke his Command Seal.
Something within the handle of Radah flared to life.
-And then, three of those things completed.
Gavel arrived in front of the weakened Sigurd, hand moving to take his heart.
Grani manifested at Sigurd's side, kicking out to move him from Gavel's range.
Something appeared amidst those gathered three, the Fourth Holy Scripture held in its hand.
The coordination between Sigurd and Grani was flawless. As a companion capable of being called to him even as a Servant, Grani's bond with his rider was immeasurable.
...However, Sigurd was not the only one with such a contract.
"Phantasmal Beast?! You goddamn cheat! Anthony, I'll tie it down, go for the kill!"
It was a woman. Horns jutting out from her head, blue eyes glinting, she appeared with the object she was bound to clutched tightly in her hands.
Grani's hooves extended out to knock its rider out of harm's way. Gavel's hand moved to drive Sigurd's heart from his chest. The woman's hammer broke through the air to keep Grani from reaching its target.
The Elemental and the Phantasmal Beast clashed. She does not have the combat prowess of her wielder, she cannot defeat a Phantasmal Beast in a contest of force, but she simply needed to ward off the horse for a split-second.
And, by the time that split-second had ended, the woman and Grani stood at a stalemate, and Sigurd's heart lay clutched in Gavel's hand.
Just as Emmerich finished invoking his Command Seal, he would find those marks upon his hand fade, receding out.
"...you're not allowed to die without telling me your name, you know."
Gavel Keyword, 02 - The Fourth Holy Scripture: Radah, has been updated.
All I can say is sumanai
All I can say is sumanai
Sigurd's reaction had been commendable, but merely that. In the end, the two combatants were both certainly in the upper echelon among what it meant to be "at the level of a Servant", the power of their bodies could easily be called first rate. In that regard, then, the battle would be determined by their respective skill, by chance, and by their other abilities and equipments.
What had happened here was one such example. For after all, Gavel's strike was one made towards the left from his perspective. Sigurd using Gram as a hold in order to pull himself to the right, leaving the range of Gavel's swing, was a commendable thought. However, it had a core tactical misstep.
While Sigurd was out of Gavel's arms' reach, he was still in the direction of the swing.
Gavel knew little to nothing about the nature of Heroic Spirits or the Holy Grail System. Command Seals, Noble Phantasms, such terminology was meaningless to him. As such, perhaps even he underestimated just how unthinkable his next action was to a Heroic Spirit. When he saw Sigurd begin to vault himself over to avoid the strike, the Rider kicking out as he did so, the Burial Agent did not attempt to shift his movements in an attempt to strike out at Sigurd's legs.
No, in the first place, something like that was likely impossible. While a Servant could do seemingly impossible things, changing the angle of their body after they had launched, for instance, that was only from the perspective of mere men. In a battle between Servants, fought in short distances that these monsters could cross in fractions of fractions of seconds, that sort of change in momentum could simply not occur. Rather, he merely ducked his head in to minimize whatever glancing blow a kick from someone moving in the opposite direction could give, readied himself...
-And released.
The Fourth Holy Scripture left his hands near the end point of its swing. While Sigurd's kick did hit its mark, the fact that he had done so in the beginning was his undoing. The strike met Gavel's head, but given that Sigurd was pulling himself in the opposite direction as the kick, the damage it dealt was a far cry to what it could have been were it an all-out strike. Nonetheless, he landed his blow.
As mentioned, in such short distances as this, in a battle between Servants, the ability to do the impossible is cancelled out. Just as Anthony who had committed himself to a swing could not react in time to entirely avoid Sigurd's blow, even with his slightly superior speed to the Servant, nor could the Servant who had committed himself to his movement cancel it so quickly, let alone dig his blade out of the ground and use it to shift his momentum before the hammer moving faster than sound would travel a mere few inches to hit its mark.
His enemy had at least been slightly damaged, but nonetheless, Radah found its mark, the hammer striking against Sigurd as its user shifted back, admittedly a touch dazed from the blow to his head. Sigurd, by contrast, should have been better for wear coming out of the exchange. While blocking the force of an "A rank" blow with his Prana Defense had been costly, the blow had not caused damage, and what was more, he still had his grip on his weapon, unlike the enemy.
However, what should happen is not always what does happen.
At the moment of contact with Radah, Sigurd felt it. Like an oppressive weight bearing down on him, despite the damage of the hammer being blocked through Sigurd's magical energy, that did nothing for its concept. Just as a Magus Killer's bullet applies its effect whether it strikes one's magecraft or oneself, the effect of Radah found itself exhibited even through that defense. If the shield had been something other than Sigurd's own magical energy then perhaps there would have been a chance, but such conjecture was for naught.
Weakness. An overbearing weakness weighed down upon Sigurd from the moment that hammer of the Lord struck him. He was still a being of a Servant's level, there was at least that solace, but that impossible weighed seemed to push down on him from all sides, bringing down his capabilities immensely. His strength, his speed, the very amount of magical energy he could store, all of these plummeted down into the bare minimum of what a Servant could possess.
Was this the nature of Radah? No, something like that was hardly surprising; the mystery and power of Gram was well above that of Sigurd's own Saint Graph, so a result like that after seeing what had happened to his weapon was only natural, but still...
"Feel that, Rider? That's the gap between you and God."
His opponent stood opposite him, some distance now between the two, his hammer clattering onto the ground and his head reeling slightly from the previous impact, but even then, he could hardly be called the loser of this exchange.
That crushing blade broke apart the air as it came down on its target.
There was no applause.
After all, in this world, there is an ironclad rule: a human cannot fight a Servant. Against these heroes of ages past, enshrined and made gods by the will of mankind, against godslayers and children of gods, against those who killed demons and those who became demons, all that man can do is roll over and die.
A human who dares to challenge a Servant will die. They will be utterly destroyed. They will be returned unto the dust from whence they came.
Yes, indeed, a human cannot defeat a Servant.
-But, isn't that horribly backwards?
A Servant is something made by human imagination. Human stories, human feats, human legends, human consciousness. Why, then, is it that these humans who created Servants are unable to challenge their own creations?
The answer is obvious: while mankind is collectively almighty, individually they are weak. An individual human cannot hope to match something bolstered by mankind's collective.
A hero is someone who can save those fated to die. A hero is something that transcends those meager individual humans who dare to stand against a Servant. A hero is something that has surpassed those human limits that shackle us, and the age of heroes has come to an end.
...ridiculous.
The end of that age is meaningless. The names we assign them are meaningless. Heroes shaped their legends with human will. Just because the era is different, just because you can no longer be "the one and only", that isn't a reason to give up and die.
Because if this damned hero from a forgotten time managed to break through their limits, there is no reason you can't---!
"May the Lord guide my hand as I strike down heresy."
With speed that easily entered the realm of a Servant, Anthony Giacosa, the #4 of the Burial Agency, burst forwards. The strongest demonic sword slicing towards him, he felt a manic grin split his face as his hands tightened around the handle of his partner, swinging forwards to meet Sigurd's blow.
Space bent. It was a cataclysm that lasted an eternity from the inside and an instant from the outside.
Coming up to meet the blow of a Servant was the blow of a human. And yet, the madman who dared to strike back against a Servant showed no fear. Sword met hammer. That strike of Sigurd's, which had entered the A rank, was enough to fell an average Servant should it strike head-on. Against it, a human should have no hope.
And yet, the human was not knocked back even slightly against the strike. It was a display that defied logic. Yes, because both Sigurd and that human can tell, not only had the blow of a Servant been reacted to in time, but the strength of this human was not one whit inferior to Sigurd's own.
...that was only a prelude, though, for what happened next.
Gram screamed.
Like the wails of the damned, a harsh keening noise flowed out from the sword, a pained cry as that pinnacle among blades met the Fourth Holy Scripture. Mere contact with that hammer was like a poison to the demonic blade, that clash of forces having embedded the concept of Radah into Gram's steel.
And whatever that was, Gram did not take it well.
Sigurd would surely be able to feel it. The demonic taint that empowered Gram was restrained, shackled by something that stemmed from the hammer gripped in his enemy's hands. If one were to try and codify what had happened, it could be said that whatever aspect of Radah had attacked Gram's grudges, and brought it down to the same level as that derivative of itself, Balmung. This weakening seemed temporary; as his own Noble Phantasm, Sigurd could tell that much, but another clash with that hammer would likely yield the same result, if not worse.
One had to wonder, if that hammer had managed to bring the strongest demonic sword low, if the effect would be permanent were it against something with lesser mystery.
Sigurd, however, would not be granted the reprieve to think of such matters, for regardless of his shock, Gavel was every bit as surprised as well.
"...hurt Radah? That damned sword of yours didn't just not break, it hurt Radah?"
It did not take long, though, for that surprise to give way to something else.
"...stop crying, it's fine. I'll shatter that sword of his into pieces as payment, and we'll buff off the scratches with his blood."
And no sooner than had that first clash of weapons completed, the two now in direct range of one another, than did Gavel shift, leveraging the strength behind his first swing to rotate into a second one, one meant to drive its way into the Rider's left side.
A message from the Holy Church to both factions.
The neutral overseer of the Church has been challenged by the German faction. The neutrality of the Church has been violated by those who pursue power over order.
The Holy Church has received this information from their Executor. The power of a Servant is beyond their expectations. A human cannot match a Servant. However, the Holy Church refuses to take such an affront as their neutrality being challenged in the dead of war. This has been further compounded by existing hostilities between the NSDAP and the Holy Church. The Holy Church has chosen to respond to this transgression.
Indeed, indeed, a human cannot match a Servant. As that is the case, something beyond human has been dispatched.
Or at least, that's what they're saying.
NPC profile added to Characters.
As we prepare to enter combat, now is a good time to review part of the nature of combat for this roleplay.
Incantations are based on the time system of steps and bars. A One-Count spell will take one bar to cast, ergo one second. A Single Action will take one step, which can be regarded as "instantaneous", such as snapping one's fingers.
Invocation of a Noble Phantasm's true name and use of a Command Seal are treated as taking one bar to invoke. This means that you should make sure you don't just stand there like an idiot as you do those things, as you open yourself to someone just walking up and stabbing you while you do.
Forms of dialogue that are not invocations, for instance banter, are treated as "free actions" during combat.
The neutral overseer of the Church has been challenged by the German faction. The neutrality of the Church has been violated by those who pursue power over order.
The Holy Church has received this information from their Executor. The power of a Servant is beyond their expectations. A human cannot match a Servant. However, the Holy Church refuses to take such an affront as their neutrality being challenged in the dead of war. This has been further compounded by existing hostilities between the NSDAP and the Holy Church. The Holy Church has chosen to respond to this transgression.
Indeed, indeed, a human cannot match a Servant. As that is the case, something beyond human has been dispatched.
Or at least, that's what they're saying.
NPC profile added to Characters.
As we prepare to enter combat, now is a good time to review part of the nature of combat for this roleplay.
Incantations are based on the time system of steps and bars. A One-Count spell will take one bar to cast, ergo one second. A Single Action will take one step, which can be regarded as "instantaneous", such as snapping one's fingers.
Invocation of a Noble Phantasm's true name and use of a Command Seal are treated as taking one bar to invoke. This means that you should make sure you don't just stand there like an idiot as you do those things, as you open yourself to someone just walking up and stabbing you while you do.
Forms of dialogue that are not invocations, for instance banter, are treated as "free actions" during combat.
The mysterious uncle standing before the Master and Servant didn't seem to even hear the latter's words, the grin carved into his face stretching out with each passing second. "Oh, this is perfect. Haven't even been here for an hour, and I don't just find a German, but I find a part-demon too? You must be one of those Servants, right? Perfect, perfect. I'm not even upset Crown lied to me about the language thing, this is just too good."
The mania in his eyes would be one not unknown to Sigurd nor his Master. A lust for battle, that singleminded desire to wage an individual war. Whatever this was had been hiding beneath the surface, but something about Sigurd's nature had dredged it forwards.
"Let's see, you're definitely no full demon, but you've got the reek of one. You don't seem like a natural half-breed like what those oni did to survive, either. Did you contract with one, acquire its blood or its factor? The flow seems...mm, not one of those curses, not oni, not rakshasa, not- oh, wait. Right, it's been over a decade since I fought something with that kind of factor, but I remember now. Dragon, right?"
His presence was nearly palpable by this point, a sort of radiance emanating from him in a sense beyond sight as he made that absurd declaration. Just as a Servant had that "shine" of heroism bathing their form, this man, this "Anthony Giacosa" gave off the same light. There can be no mistake, that man's body was mere flesh and blood, was merely the body of a human. It is unthinkable that there could be a human who could equal a Servant as a "hero", but then, how-
"Prior engagement? No, no, afraid you'll have to cancel. I've gotten to drink plenty, but I'm not turning down the chance for a fight. You're not leaving right when I've got a golden opportunity standing in front of me for the first time in a damn month." He remarked, his tone going icy for a moment as he ignored the offered bottle, shrugging exasperatedly and letting out a mock sigh. "Well, you'll run off if I take any longer, and it won't be satisfying for either me or Radah if we kill you from behind, so let me introduce myself more properly. I'm just a simple old man here to get some exercise, after being stuck in the office for a month in boredom."
The map of Fuyuki was stuffed into a pocket, no doubt crumpling up in the process. A sharp laugh left the man, eyeing Sigurd like a predator standing before his prey.
"...Anthony Giacosa. Codename: Gavel."
The instrument case gripped in his right hand began to distort, its form writhing as if it were clay being shaped by invisible hands, until its form had changed from a benign oversized instrument case to an equally oversized hammer. A weapon that belonged in the realm of fantasy appeared, the man gripping it in his hands as a thrum ran through it. However, that was not what was most terrifying.
That status was reserved for the emanations of prana that the item began to give off, a power on par with a Servant's Noble Phantasm.
"But your contractor there would probably know me better as the #4 of the Burial Agency."
Mysterious Uncle Anthony Giacosa
Tohsaka Manor, Premises Outskirts
Put simply, the newest addition to the town was rather lost.
No, that was an understatement. He was insurmountably lost, to the point where he had no idea where he was or how to find his destination. He supposed this was the trouble of not knowing the native language, given that it made him completely unable to use his map to gauge where he was.
Frankly, he was near the breaking point of just walking in a straight line until he exited the city, and using that as a metric.
He was roused from these thoughts, though, as perhaps the only one in the city who stood out more than himself showed his face. The man quirked an eyebrow up in confusion, looking at Emmerich with a combination of gratification and annoyance. Looking over the officer for a few seconds, he gave his reply in German as well.
"Ah, one of those German shits, huh? Eh, never cared much about politics, so do as you will. You know you don't have the authority to act like this is your place though, yeah? Pretty sure your domain doesn't stretch this far." He remarked with a coy grin, the hand holding his map of Fuyuki dipping down slightly, since he was no longer looking at it.
Looking at the man, Emmerich could surely feel it. While it was faint, likely the faintest he'd ever seen, the man had the presence of a magus, that slight waft of prana around him that indicated him as such. However, it was minute, pathetic even. What sort of half-rate among half-rates did one have to be to give off that presence?
"Good to see someone else who knows a language I can understand, though." He chuckled, seeming utterly unperturbed by Emmerich's earlier demand. "You wouldn't believe how hard navigating this place is when you don't speak a word of Japanese. Anthony Giacosa, by the way, just call me Tony. I'm not gonna bother asking what you're up to over here, but you seem like you're in a rush and this doesn't seem like the place I'm looking for anyway, so I'll get out of your hair. Gotta ask, though, do you know how to get to the-"
Something changed. Without warning, the man who had called himself Anthony Giacosa cut himself off. His head snapped around to the titan standing beside Emmerich, looking at him, through him. "...you...?" He murmured out, as if testing how the word felt in his mouth.
That presence Anthony had began to change. No, physically he remained the same, and magically too, but in a sense beyond either the physical or magical, in nothing other than that ephemeral concept of "presence", something changed. His eyes hardened, that prior joking nature lost in a mad undercurrent as a primal glint formed in them. The hand that held the instrument case in his right hand tightened its grip. His posture straightened up ever so slightly, but that simple gesture caused him to appear a new man. Nothing had changed. Nothing had changed at all in any relevant way beside's the man's demeanor, so why, why did he seem so different than he had been seconds earlier?
When he spoke, his tone was darker, excitement lacing it as he felt the traces of a grin play at the edge of his lips. He had forgotten Emmerich, his eyes solely focused on Sigurd as he spoke, steel now lacing his voice.
"You smell like a demon, you know."
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