The Founder's Praises on the Great God of Metal (FoZ/ZnTxXenoblade)

[2Bad]

Reposting a thread I made on Spacebattles over here, assuming nobody minds that. Are you ready for me to post 5-6 mediocre updates and then probably get bored? I AM!

I'm also going to spoil the shit out of a very good videogame that you should really play if you like JRPGs. It's called, as you might have guessed, Xenoblade. It's not a perfect game, but it is VERY good. If you want a look, check out Lethemonster's LP of it on SA and/or this video that shows off a small fraction of the game enviroment. With that introduction out of the way, let's start with that snippet I did awhile ago and promised I wouldn't continue but am anyway (it has been slightly edited).

---
Four eyes gleamed through the cloud cover, each a massive red star. A great sword, impossible large, rested in the earth somewhere in Gallia, beyond the view of those gathered. Two massive legs, marking the ground in Tristain and Germania where they stood forever. An impossibly gigantic form that cast a shadow on the tiny nation of Tristain.

"Th-this is my... familiar?" The words left the child's mouth, but she didn't really have faith in them. Oh she'd managed to summon it, and with the sacred ritual of the Founder himself even, but...

The massive form shifted slightly, causing the whole continent to shake as it did. It appeared to be buckling under its own weight, but shakily readjusted itself, preventing a collapse that surely would spell doom for the mere mortals below. The head turned slightly, 4 eyes taking in their new surroundings.

To the child, it was incomprehensible that such a thing would ever be bound by human hands. Heretical though it might be to consider, surely not even the Holy Founder could bind something so titanic.

"WHAT IS THAT THING?" shrieked the voice of Guiche de Gramont, staring up at the strange beast. Such an exclamation, despite the fear it contained, was still far more rational than the response of nearly the entire continent, which tended to fall between being struck dumb and a near loss of sanity.

---

Within the core of the titan called Mechonis rested a single soul, stable but barely alive. To this man, looking through the eyes of the great god of metal, this new place was contrary to all he had known.

"Where... where am I? Is this what awaits those who... No, the Mechonis wouldn't come with me in that instance, it is not truly 'mine.'" An energy signal flared on the titan's sensors, forcing the man to shift the behemoth's head a bit, crimson eyes centering on what appeared to be some kind of stone fortress on the land far below. "This power... it is akin to the Monado... but that cannot be."

A great pain echoed through the man's chest, signaling the end of his ability to both move the titan, and even the gold shell he'd constructed for himself. This was not to be the end for him, he noted as he spotted several repair drones enter the core, but he'd not be investigating any of these mysteries for the moment. As he lost consciousness, he at managed to take satisfaction in one thing:

If nothing else, he'd at least gotten to punch that bastard right in the gut.


---
Index

Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

[2Bad]

I hope you like exposition

---

Five Days Later, the Palace of Tristain

If one could describe the response of the world's nations to the appearance of a titan in their midst, the word "chaos" would probably be the most accurate. The level of chaos varied from country to country however. In the case of Tristain, who while easily the smallest nation of the 3 directly affected countries, was also the only one of any nation that had a direct explanation for its appearance. The nation's rulers had actually managed to organize a proper meeting, if only amongst those considered to be at the highest level. Mid level nobles had been forced by their superiors to simply reign in the panicking landless nobility and peasantry, a task which would keep them occupied for some time while the policy makers argued.

Said policy makers, in this case, consisted of a few people currently seated in the palace meeting hall alongside relevant witnesses. Those gathered included Princess Henrietta herself, her aide Cardinal Mazarin, the Duke Vallière and his terrifying wife Karin The Heavy Wind, Headmaster Osmond of Tristain Academy, and a few other high nobles who may have had something to say were they not currently within striking distance of Karin the Heavy Wind. Seated alongside them were Professor Jean Colbert, who oversaw this year's Summoning at the Academy, and of course the terrified summoner herself, Louise Vallière.

"Duke Vallière," began the Princess, sounding the meeting's official start, "when you left your estate, how was Germania responding?"

A derisive snort from the noble preceded his actual reply, "They essentially haven't responded as far as we can tell. Germania is far too large and each of the Princes has far too much power. From what my agents told me, they've no idea as to the actual cause. Some are blaming the Kaiser for defying the Church and think that if they kill him, they'll be spared from some kind of divine punishment."

The mage once called Osmond the Great stroked his beard in thought, "A possible civil war in the face of that ridiculous thing? Madness. My friends in Albion have sent word that even Cromwell and Wales have momentarily entered a ceasefire so both sides can investigate. Rumor has it that they're even going to send some dragon knights to the beast's head."

The next interjection came from the aging cardinal, "Master Osmond, you call it a beast, but are we even sure of that much? Sir Wardes took a squad of our Gryphon Knights north to the foot, and reports that it appears to be made of steel! Certainly it can't be natural, although I can't say I'd like to meet the Earth Mage who could make a steel golem large enough to step on the entire northern border, not mention that ridiculous sword."

Osmond simply shook his head in response, "It cannot possibly be a golem, for only living things can be summoned from the Founder's ritual. And the one thing we know for sure," he turned to the smallest of the gathered, "is that Miss Vallière over there DID summon it." The old man then paused briefly before allowing himself a small laugh, "Quite the first success by the way, truly your daughter was holding out on us Karin."

The sound of teeth grinding from across the table was the only response the Duchess Vallière offered, which caused the already silent Louise to shrink back into her chair and look to the Princess for support.

Hoping to move the subject away from her friend, Henrietta offered another question to those gathered, "And what of Gallia? King Joseph has sent no official missive my way."

"Ah," said one of the nobles from the southern border, "It's impossible to tell what they're doing, but the day after the giant appeared, the border went on complete lockdown. Gallia has fallen silent."

Mazarin face turned grim, "That... does not bode well. Nor does the fact that I heard no word from either my fellow Cardinals nor the Pope himself. The Church has not, historically, favored the soft touch to anything that might disrupt its rule, no matter what the more spiritual among us might say."

"If I may..." came another voice, this one belonging to Jean Colbert, "while it is important to know what our neighbors are doing, surely the giant itself is of greater concern. It hasn't moved since being summoned, but there's no way to know how long that will last. And when it does eventually move, we will all have a very good reason to be afraid even if it's not actually aggressive. Before that happens, I suggest we try and find a way for Miss Louise to bind it. It is her familiar after all."

"That brings up another point!" said a particularly brave noble seated next to Karin, "A familiar represents the mage, so what does this say about that girl? Osmond says this was her first successful spell, so what in the hell is she really capable of? She could be more dangerous than the damn giant!"

Before anyone could be decapitated by wind magic, Henrietta spoke again, "The professor raises a valid point. The giant, if we're to believe in our Founder, is destined to be bound to Louise. Thus, we should focus on that first. However, sending her alone is something I absolutely not approve of. Thus, I decree that she is to be escorted by the Manticore knights, as well as the leader of my Musketeer squad, Agnes. I additionally would ask you, Professor Colbert, to accompany them. It is your duty to see the Springtime Summoning Ritual through to the end after all, is it not?" Receiving an affirmative from the flame using teacher, the princess concluded the meeting, "Then in that case, I ask that you depart as soon as possible. Ideally you will rendezvous with the Griffon Knights and Sir Wards on the way, wherein you should have them join your party."

---

[ZidanReign]

Hmm... As always your FoZ stuff is good.

But so much Yes to Xenoblade.

I give you love in the form of

[2Bad]

High above the Halkeginian mainland soared the vast flying continent of Albion. The floating landmass was cast into the sky in ancient times, purportedly by Founder Brimir if the Church was to be believed (scholars remain rather divided on the subject).

Albion was a nation that long considered itself inherently superior to its fellows below. Being virtually unassailable thanks to its location and the fact that it necessarily led the pack both in terms of airship construction and dragon taming, the Albionese Monarchs of old feared nothing, and many ignored what they saw as the irrelevant bickering of the ground dwellers.

Indeed, even when the Church raised the flag of the Crusades against the new Germanian Kaiser Frederick, Albion's King James refused to take part in the war until Tristain offered up the King's sister-in-law to be Jame's bride. Romalia was also rumored at the time to have promised Albion certain under-the-table favors, desperate as they were for aid with Gallia steadfastly refusing to get involved. That it was only thanks to Albion's aid that Tristain and Romalia had the manpower to force Germania to a stalemate did little to deflate the Monarch of the Windborne Kingdom's massive ego, nor the ego's of many of his more powerful noble subordinates.

It was a twist of fate for James indeed when he found himself falling off the side of an airship in what, as far as anyone could tell, was a drunken stupor. Accusations were leveled by some of the aristocracy that he may have been pushed by the very wife he pressured Tristain into giving him, but no real proof was ever found. Consequently, the Albionese nobility found themselves grudgingly under the control of a Tristanian queen. To them, it was more than a bit humiliating, but when that queen did finally die, some of the nobility were content to have her son, Prince Wales, as the new king.

Most of the nobles however, found the Prince to be not much of an improvement over his mother, since despite physically being a find specimen of Albion's royal line, mentally he was just unacceptable. The boy had been raised by his mother into a simpering disgrace, seeking friendship with those quite literally beneath him, and having none of the... flexible qualities that made his father so popular amongst the nobility. But the bottom line is that he was royalty, born of Brimir's own line, and there was nothing to do but wait him or.

That was what the nobles truly believed, right until the man called Oliver Cromwell appeared. Once a priest of the Church, Cromwell openly cast dispersions upon his former superiors in Romalia as having last touch with the way of Brimir. He also spoke of how, as a trueborn citizen of Albion, he found himself disgusted with the Prince and his love of the ground-dwellers. Carrying with him a number of powerful magical artifacts, he put to the nobility that Albion was the only true heir to Brimir's legacy, and that if the Prince was unable to recognize his place above the rest of Halkeginia, he did not deserve that place. And thus was formed the Reconquista, an alliance of nobles that had decided that if the Royalty no longer upheld its own office, then perhaps "Lord Protector" Cromwell was better suited to lead not only Albion, but all of human-occupied Halkeginia.

Nobility across Albion raised high their banners for the Royalist and Reconquista faction, and thus began the Albionese Civil war. However, with only about 20% of the Albionese nobility raising the Royalist banner, things looked rather grim for their side.

It was at this point that a gigantic demon made of metal was dropped on top of Tristain and Germania, and nearly collided with Albion as the country passed over the former of the two nation. Suddenly, the nobility on both sides found themselves far less concerned with Reconquista and Royalists, and far more concerned about figuring out why there was a titanic monstrosity that almost killed them all. In a panic, Cromwell withdrew his fighting forces away from the Royalist lines, seeking to convene with his generals.

Wales, having little forces in the first place, instead decides to send an emissary to the Reconquista Headquarters in Londinium, seeking a ceasefire, and even a complete cessation of hostilities, offering to creation of a noble-elected council to counterbalance the throne's authority. It was Wale's reasoning that in the face of an unknown threat, all the people of Albion should lay down their arms. All the same, it would be a difficult treaty to negotiate, and he would need to send his most cunning subordinate. To that end, he examined his choices and, after much thought, picked a former companion of his father's that had been one of the first nobles to join the Royalist faction when the line drawing began.

Princes Wales sent out none other than the ruler of the tiny constituency of Dunny-on-the-Wold, Sir Edmund Blackadder.

[2Bad]

Many were they in Halkeginia that attempted to understand the nature of King Joseph of Gallia. Here was a monarch who, as far as most could tell, had neither magic nor the talent of rule that may compensate for it (if only because his blood was true). Many would simply attribute his existence to the fact that the other, far more suitable heir was dead, but that only happened after he had been named successor. It was thus that Gallia found itself with a king whose every move lacked any kind of apparent logic. It was enough to make most write him and the father that named him heir as madmen.

There were a few who knew a good deal more than that. Most notably was Pope Vittorio Serevare, leader of Romalia and master of Brimir's church. To him and those in his inner circle, the fact that Joseph did indeed possess magic was all too obvious. More than that, Joseph possessed the holy power of Void, just as Vittorio himself did, and as many monarchs in Halkeginia's past had, concealing their power to retain the populace's reverence of Brimir and the Void itself.

What confused Vittorio was not Joseph the mage, but Joseph the man. Though most wrote him off as a mere fool, Vittorio, wrapped as he was in the constant political spiderweb that was the Church, saw through that ruse. A fool king would not simply ignore please from the Church for cooperation, but would rather loudly decry such offers or naively submit to them. Joseph instead maintained near absolute silence with regards to the Church. Meanwhile, Joseph would randomly send out offers of illogical trade agreements to the other countries, amass forces at borders for no clear reason and disperse them just as quickly, and remained the only monarch to recognize the Reconquista as the legitimate government of Albion.

More disturbingly, ever since the giant had appeared (itself more than a little troublesome for the Church), Gallia had gone completely silent. A part of Vittorio rather hoped that the giant's sword , having been stabbed into the ground in Gallia by it to maintain balance, had simply crushed the capital and the reason Joseph wasn't doing anything was simply his death. But the few spies inside of Gallia who had not vanished in the line of duty (another worryingly common occurrence when dealing with Joseph) had confirmed that the capital remained unharmed. What they couldn't confirm was where Joseph currently was, the king having apparently vanished while leaving a few instructions on what to do in his absence.

The reason, though neither Vittorio and his spies, nor anyone else in the land would ever know, that Joseph did the things he did, was simply to see if he could feel... anything at all really. A certain incident in years past had left the then-powerless failure mage into something derived of both the joys and sorrows of life. At first he tried to do good things, but could summon neither compassion nor pity for the people he would aid. He searched sainthood's heights and found nothing for him, and thus he turned to Hell's fiery depths. No matter what chaos he caused, no matter what suffering, he had yet to feel pleasure or regret. Despite this, he could do nothing but continue, probing at every possible angle, searching for some feeling, even the slightest emotion. Lacking any purpose but the search for something long lost, and being understood by no other person, Joseph of Gallia simply mechanically continued his experiments.

It was this man, and this man alone, who would praise the descent of the metal god's sword. For it was when the titan rocked the world and its blade tore into Gallia itself that King Joseph finally felt, even if only faintly, genuine emotion. Fear, awe, and... a gnawing curiosity. To Joseph, what much of Halkeginia viewed as the greatest disaster in thousands of years, was an open path to salvation.

And so, leaving his court behind with only the barest of instructions, the king of men set out to meet the god of metal.