Just so you know, I meant to write Ur-Nungal (Gil's son) instead of Ur-Nammu. Doesn't matter though, since I'm 90% sure it's not him anyway...
Just so you know, I meant to write Ur-Nungal (Gil's son) instead of Ur-Nammu. Doesn't matter though, since I'm 90% sure it's not him anyway...
Ainsworth? Wait, wait wait wait... Ainsworth?
Wait...
You didn't mean THAT Ainsworth, right? I mean, that with a red haired yome
The Second Day- Monday, 4/18
The pipe is in my hand and my magic circuits are burning without me needing to think.
“Trace... on!” I scream, Reinforcing the pipe until it’s harder than diamond. I'd have no hope against a Servant, but a magus? I can handle a magus. I’ll enjoy it, too, if it’s her.
The feeling is obviously mutual, going by the smile on her face. I bat aside a wave of feathers in one wave of my weapon, much like Lancer did to Archer’s initial attack, but just in case I Reinforce my whole body as I charge the eyesore.
A second wave of razor sharp projectiles flies at me, this time in a staggered pattern. Again my Reinforced pipe bats them aside, but one of them slips through, only to slide off my right shoulder.
I grin viciously, but just as I come in arm’s reach my foot catches on a root that wasn’t there a moment ago. I tumble forwards, crashing through a table covered in expensive— and home grown?— reagents as Ayaka hurls herself backwards.
Dammit! I go to stand up, crushing glass and plants under my Reinforced skin, when some instinct has me roll to the side and into another plant, obviously well kept for whatever alchemical purposes it has. A dozen or so feathers pincushion where I’d first fallen, this time embedding themselves halfway into the floor. Reinforcement or no, that would have hurt.
I have just enough time to to stand and raise my weapon before the next wave of feathers forces me to defend. I spin the pipe in a poor imitation of Lancer’s flowing grace, blocking and deflecting attacks with the pipe and barely making headway.
A whistling keen blasts through the air in front of me, and suddenly my pipe is no more. Only the part I was grasping and a small length above it remain, and I see the beautiful yet offending sword--”of selection” some part of me murmurs--impale itself to the hilt in a pillar across the room, the wind left in its wake pulling up a storm of leaves from the garden.
I barely have time to toss aside my now-useless pipe before a myriad of curses spews forth from a feather at my feet. So that’s her magecraft? Keeping the still-growing garden between us and scramble I cast my eyes about for a replacement weapon. There! I dive forwards, grabbing at a broom that was blown over in the fighting. This will have to do.
My opponent clicks her tongue. “You sure are quick on your feet, Emiya,” she says as we both consider our next move. The path between us looks clear, but I doubt the curses and plant magic are the limit of her magic. “For an idiot.”
“Oh, please,” I shoot back, watching the floor and air carefully. “What kind of hero would I be if I let some witch kill me?”
“Hero!? You’re a stupid playboy, living off your family’s money!” Her shout is punctuated by the sound of Lancer slamming her weapon into a wall, and an echoing laugh.
Taking my attention off the Master for a moment, I see something peculiar. Lancer is standing still, glaring furiously about the space where she and Archer were dueling. Archer was nowhere to be seen.
“Wow! You’re really good at this, Lancer!” Archer’s awed sounding voice comes from a corner, and Lancer moves, piercing the wall. “I mean, not good enough to find me, but that’s obvious.”
...Invisibility. Isn’t that more the abilities of an Assassin?
“Your childish trickery is growing old, Archer. Reveal yourself, so that we can fight with honor as Servants of the knight classes.” The frustration is obvious in her voice, as Lancer once again takes a guarding stance, eyes flickering around. “Like you so challenged me to do.”
“How about…” Archer’s voice wavered for a moment, coming from somewhere off in the room. “Nah. I’ve changed my mind, and don’t think it’s nice to beat up old hags.”
The floor is completely silent for a moment, as Lancer’s expression turns dumbfounded and I see Ayaka palm her face from the corner of my eye.
“Then I see no point in leaving a brat without chastisement.” Lancer says after a moment, fire in her eyes as her stance and grip on the spear change completely.
"—!"Strike AirCleaving Blade of the Wind King
OK Lartoria, let's go!
Great fic. Damn, it's good.
Huh. So my early guess about Lancer being Artoria was right after all. No idea what the "not used to being a woman" thing is about though...
Thanks!Originally Posted by Levnekov
OK Lartoria, let's go!
Great fic. Damn, it's good.
Less "not used to being a woman", more... Well, a bit complicated. She's not used to the body that was given by the class container, you see. It's taller than she's used to being. And larger, otherwise.
I do wonder though, now that Lancer is pretty much confirmed to be Arturia, why did Saber appear to her as El Cid in their first encounter? It's not entirely clear how Saber's NP works yet, but it seems to disguise him as his opponent's closest comrade (since Astolfo saw Roland). Her seeing El Cid (instead of one of her actual companions like Bedivere) is a mystery, since he's certainly not anyone she would've ever known in life.
Obviously the answer to this is going to be revealed later on, but I'm guessing either Saber's NP works differently then I'm imagining or Lancer isn't actually who she seems to be either.
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