Sage's Storeroom.

[fraggle]

Makes you wonder what kind of complex will Mordred develop this time around.

"All that is father's will be rightfully mine!"

[Sage of Eyes]

"All that is father's will be rightfully mine!"

This. All of This.

[ILurkNoMoar]

"All that is father's will be rightfully mine!"

"You don't deserve him father; his compassion and loyalty are wasted on you and I will give him all the respect and love you never did!"

Turns out it's not Guinevere that needs saving from Mordred.

[Chojomeka]

"You don't deserve him father; his compassion and loyalty are wasted on you and I will give him all the respect and love you never did!"

Turns out it's not Guinevere that needs saving from Mordred.

"Sorry your Majesty but your most faithful knight is in another castle"

[ILurkNoMoar]

"Sorry your Majesty but your most faithful knight is in another castle"

Well at least we know what Mordred was doing to him while they waited for Arturia to get back from Rome if Melehan and his brother are any indication.

[fraggle]

"He never said no to my advances!"


"He's mute! of course he didn't speak up against your tyranny!"


"He never declined or ran from my embrace!"


"Thats because you pretended to be me at first, and when your cover failed you had him tied down afterwards!"


"H-How was I supposed to know you liked to do it in the..... you Adulturer! Both he and Guinevere are wasted on the perverse likes of you, no wonder he was caught in the queen's company while you were gone!"


"You cur! my marriage with Guinnevere might have been a political one, but i still cared for her. why else would I have offered to share him with her in the first place while I was away!"


"...what?"


The sound of flesh being torn from a bone drew both female's attention to the door leading into the room, currently occupied with the sight of Lancelot leaning against the wall as he chewed on a piece of chicken, blinking in surprise as he realised he had been discovered.


"Oh, don't mind me. Please, continue. I find this all rather amusing actually."


"This can't get any worse." Arturia Pendragon muttered as Mordred shot the other knight a dirty look."...This is because Guinevere turned you down, isn't it."


"I still don't see what she sees into that mute, but yes..."


"He might not speak.... but his mouth is very skilled" Mordred spoke, causing the perfect knight to choke on the chicken he was trying to swallow.


"He has the fingers of a scribe, gentle but dedicated." Arturia added with a blush of her own, as Mordred nodded in agreement.


"He... he truly has the mightiest of swords." Guinevere spoke from the bed, where she and the unfortunate knight had been shackled onto.


"Sire, are you alright!? I came as fast as my horse allowed...." Gawain yelled as he stormed into the room. In his haste he pushed aside the chocking Lancelot before coming to a sudden halt. What greeted him wasthe sight of his lord, his queen and the usurper of the crown blushing like three little girls.



".... did I miss something?"


"...cannot.... breathe...."

[Tiresias]

...are you sure we're talking about Shirou here?

[ILurkNoMoar]

...are you sure we're talking about Shirou here?

Technically this is one of Shirou's past lives so he isn't Shirou per say, though I wonder what his name is in this.

[Sage of Eyes]

Fraggle has made the first side story anyone has ever made for one of my works!

CherryPoppedAcheivement.jpg

[warellis]

Rereading the Chapter 2 Part 1 post, I noticed that Shirou mentions about how mortified Kiritsugu would be, if he were still alive, that Shirou had to take on a Dead Apostle with a sword. Is this Shirou primarily a gunfighter, but knows how to Trace Noble Phantasms and such? How good at melee combat is he with a knife or sword?

[Sage of Eyes]

Rereading the Chapter 2 Part 1 post, I noticed that Shirou mentions about how mortified Kiritsugu would be, if he were still alive, that Shirou had to take on a Dead Apostle with a sword. Is this Shirou primarily a gunfighter, but knows how to Trace Noble Phantasms and such? How good at melee combat is he with a knife or sword?

Well if I tell you there would be no reason to read it. But it's mostly the fact that he's more like Kiritsugu and Maiya in a way, not much magecraft regarding killing things.

[warellis]

Has Shirou here encountered any Noble Phantasms on his travels, like Archer did when he was still alive?

[Thanos]

Argh! This web is so tangled, I am unable to make sense of it. I do like it though.

so he isn't Shirou per say, though I wonder what his name is in this.

"per se"

[Sage of Eyes]

Argh! This web is so tangled, I am unable to make sense of it. I do like it though.

Sorry

Has Shirou here encountered any Noble Phantasms on his travels, like Archer did when he was still alive?

You'll have to wait to see like everyone else!

[Sage of Eyes]

The Passing Lily Side Stories.

Made to fill in the time-skip gaps.
…

My life became a blur the moment I grasped the hilt of that sword and took it upon my shoulders to unite Britain underneath my rule. The moment had been so surreal, the wizard beside me declaring me king sonorously to the entire encampment by rite of blood.

I was met with scorn and dismay by the multitudes of men and knights that sought the throne for themselves. The wizard was silent at the onslaught of scrutinies that burst forth from the mouths frothing with indignation. His eyes never wavered from my features, they felt like pieces of ice filtering through my system analyzing me, scrutinizing my reactions and preparing for an outcome.

The sword in my hand thrummed with power as did my head from the continuously screeches and yells of the masses. Bemusement swiftly gave away to irritation and the same fell to anger within moments of the first lobbed piece of garbage. Power in such a state of mind did not mix well, the temptation to swing the mighty object within my grasp was nigh overwhelming. The power within bubbled as if ready to spill over and the blade felt tense akin to a wolf ready to strike.

The knowledge that the weapon’s strike will silence them was not an oddity. I could feel the power within it begging to be used, to justify my right to rule and make my right to rule as rightful and divine as any king has ever declared. The power was true and righteous, the power would silence these men pelting me with stones and garbage, the power made my remarkably wary of itself.

I was faintly reminded of the many visiting knights treated my companions and allies within the castle. How they used their power to treat the people that fed them akin to garbage, and reveled in the fact only Sir Kay may reprimand them of such action and only if they were of the physical nature. The used their blades and armor to meet the conclusion they found satisfactory, with others underneath their heel in submissive forms. Such power should only be used to help others, and so should the power at my fingertips…

The blade was impossibly light despite the fact it was equal in length as to my own body. As I hefted it forward the crowd was silenced, and my own breath was taken as the blade’s ethereal brightness matched the sun itself. The power was leaking out at the mere tilt of the blade, each strand that flowed out of the blade was as radiant as the sun until it returned to nothingness. My own tongue felt like lead within my mouth as I hefted the brilliant blade before myself.

I could swing the majestic armament towards the sky, my instinct told me that no sort of blade will ever harm when swung at the sky. The grandiose display this weapon will create will silence those who seek to fight against me… I hefted the blade above my head, relishing both the superb balance of the weapon and the gasps escaping from the mouths of the captivated crowd.

Good, I had their attention.

I swung down my intentions with the blade clear even as the wizard by my side started so hard he almost knocked me over.

The tip of the blade entered the earth and sank until my own met the ground before the blade itself.
I could not deny the wizard’s claim that I shall rule the land, but I tyrant I shall not be.

“I ask of you, knights loyal to the crown” I stated with as much authority as I could muster and will into existence. The wizards eyes bored into me as if I was an unsolvable puzzle, his mouth shut and conscience focused entirely upon me. “Will you accept me, by right of blood from my father Uther Pendragon as the rightful heir to the Throne?”

Humility in the face of opposition, in the face of opponents. I could not have been acting, as they had seen my own surprise at the appearance and grand proclamations of this mad wizard. Here was a boy no more than 14 years declared King by a wizard and proclaiming his father’s name and asking for assistance.

I dared not raise my head, to be a king was to be servant to the people who were ruled, as my companions were to myself. In my hands was their freedom and at their command I use their freedom to achieve what they wish me to do. I am to become their tool, their shaper, so they may live in peace abundance and tranquility.

If they did not accept me… so be it may.

The people must choose their own servants to lead them, as any man would choose a servant for to tend themselves. I shall not lose a night’s sleep if they do not accept me.

The moment stretched in silence, not even a whisper was said or a muttering I could pertain to. The clearing where dozens of knights, a wizard and a girl bowing before them for acceptance was utterly silent.

And then, the clanking of armor and the fall of leather soles. For the briefest of moments I feared I may be struck down, many would consider such an act of humility to be a weakness undesirable in a king and that death of such a scion would be better off.

A sword was unsheathed as the footsteps neared, but I forced myself to keep my head bowed for reasons I could not hope to comprehend. Armored shoes were in my vision for the briefest of mementos before they stepped to my side and only then did I dare look.

Sir Ector stood by my side, his eyes caught my own as he continued to stand and thrust his sword into the ground between his feet. The same sound repeated itself a mere moment later to my left…

Sir Kay seems to have found his blade, and he had the audacity to wink at me when I dared look.

My family was present, two knights well received and famed stood by me and my right to the throne. They stood ready to defend as their king bowed to an army he begged to let him rule.

And slowly but surely the army stood behind the kneeling king. When raised my head my back were the knights of the kingdom ready.

I did not believe any happiness could replace such a moment.

But… amidst the canvas of the tents I saw threads of red quickly move as a barely perceptible blur.

And I knew, deep within my heart I could not chase after the one who wears it.

…

My surrogate father, Sir Ector, ruled in my stead until I met the age of manhood and gained my rights of knighthood alongside my crown. The masters of fiefs and holdings present swore their allegiance to me, as rightful and divinely chosen monarch of Britain. The scant few that did not attend were noted, and my first grim duty as monarch was to ascertain where their allegiances lay.

Many capitulated at the mere sight of the army at my back, but a sorry few hid behind their walls where they thought they could not be reached without first harming the dutiful knights at my command.

My heart was pained as I utilized the power within the mystical blade Caliburn for the first time in anger… and against the people I served. My army rejoiced at the swift destruction of the dissents, and were more elated at my command to spare no aid to those who threw down their armaments in surrender.

The horrifying truth was discovered when no such action was done, even against my devastating assault and the insurmountable foes they faced. There was no battle within the cracked stone, only a massacre of the noble and his knights within as pitifully armed men and women, so thoroughly dissuaded by their leader’s charisma that they truly thought we were there to eradicate and destroy their lives and futures.

Even the wizard by my side stayed voice as we retreated from the desolate place, far too many small bodies crushed underneath the weight of horse and armored man to revel in the victory of my first battle.
I dared not look too closely upon the mud caked faces and lifeless eyes, I had not found him after all these years and I had no knowledge of what would occur if I saw even the briefest flashes of gold amidst the lifeless eyes.

Too much death, too many killed at the first battle of the campaign. I did not believe I could stomach the entirety of the speculated thirteen battles that will occur simply because of a my crown. The fixed adornment upon my steel helm felt far too heavy to be the same band of metal that I had seen placed upon my helmet.
“Keep your back straight and head held high, Arthur.” The wizard beside me whispered upon his mount. His clothing making him stark in contrast against the many steel-clad men that followed. “As a King you must harden your heart at such trivialities such as this, think of the many that will spared because these dead men and women will never oppose you in the future.”

I wanted to listen, I wanted to do as he said, I wanted to lock away my heart until I achieved my privacy and I could fall into oblivion against the weight of my sins of command. I wanted to make a dyke against the river of cold blood running steadily against my pained heart. I wanted to retreat into a bastion of cold steel and rock to shield myself against the monstrosity of what I had ordered done and planned to do against all my enemies that I will fight.

I wanted to run away, and leave behind a shell that will be a pillar of steely resolution and undefinable power. This could not be done by a human…

Almost eerily I remembered his resolution, as he insisted to gain food for his family instead of getting his wound looked after. I remembered the undeniable will and force of personality he excluded when his resolutely rebuffed my attempt to aid him and ignore the many he served. The otherworldly sense of justice within him that forced himself to chase after a man upon horseback with a broken leg simply to clear a girl’s name.
I remembered his humanity and humility as he gathered food for others and consumed the very least of it all.
I remembered thinking of how he was the perfect knight from the sheer simplicity and righteousness he gathered from his own actions.

..and I remembered how he never ceased to smile for me.

I gave the most similar smile I could to the wizard by my side.

“I fear that such a thing is impossible, Merlin.” I stated as steadily as I could, making sure my voice could be heard by those surrounding us. His eyes were startled and I could only presume he was flustered ever so slightly as the talk around us ceased to nothingness. “I do not think any man can look upon this tragedy and hold his head and shoulders high.”

I turned and regarded the knight by my side, who looked away after starting upon the realization I had gazed upon him. My smile faltered the slightest as I took in his bloodstained armor, but I spoke as firmly as I could when I continued my address.

“The men and women who died today were lied to and oppressed by the man they trusted with their lives. They died at my behest, and due to my poorly devised plan to charge headlong into a battle that assured the death of our spirit.” I paused to glance around me, and despite their attention on their mounts I knew my words were being carefully judged. “Our countrymen have been slain and our spirits are defeated, but we march on to unite this land and protect those who we pledged to protect. I have failed in my duty to protect all my subjects today, not only in those dead but those who fought for in my name and I shall never be able to avoid such a thing.”

I raised my voice as much as I could allow it to taking courage from the image of a mute, starved boy acting with great courage as the fuel to my words.

“So long as I rule this country,” I declared without hesitation. “So long as the faith of the people lie to me, I shall never falter in my attempts to protect my country men and those who entrusted their actions to my word, Merlin.”

The wizard openly gaped, his jaw riding ever so low in astonishment.
I could not decide whether his astonishment was due to my stupidity or simply because his was speechless, but a few moments later the mask of exasperation returned to his wizened face as he urged his steed past me.

A knight quickly took his place, a gracious nod replacing the bow he could not manage upon horseback. The eyes within the visor appraised for the briefest of moments, before he bowed once more and forced his steed onward.

To my joy this continued until Merlin found his place by my side once more grumbling all the while. I knew that so long as I do nothing I may regret, this rule will most be assuredly one of peace and tranquility.
…

[IhaxlikeNoob]

D'aawh, it's like Shirou scared of Sabe-erh I mean Arturia!

[Sage of Eyes]

The Priest.

…

Disclaimer: No monetary gain is made from this.
…

The paper was thin to the touch, the directions upon it scribbled hastily and near illegible. I took one last look upon the chicken scratches before discarding it from my hand and retrieving my luggage with my singular, left arm moving quickly amongst the surprisingly large amount of people that were bustling in and out of the railway station. As an Executor for the last decade of my life and the many trips I had taken upon trains, seeing such a large crowd in a station was odd, especially in the middle of work week.

Judging from the large amounts of luggage that many folks carried I had no doubt that most were either about to take very long vacations or moving out of the city outright. I could see no harm in the situation however, since if an executor as famed as Father Garterbelt had called for aid to handle the apparitions of malevolent souls that flocked to the city due to the sheer sheet that separated it from the realms of spirits, I would most certainly encourage the masses to vacate the city as soon as they possibly could.

As soon as I reached the entrance of the train station, my exit, I immediately spotted the young man in a green jumpsuit and headphones that held aloft a sign declaring:

Father Kotomine.

In bold, red letters was the name of the man who raised me, taught me, acted as my father and ripped off my right arm with an unmistakable gleam of happiness nearly eleven years ago. It was my own name, of course, and it was registered in every government database known to man as such due to my lack of attention whilst I filled out the singular form that would be encoded and encrypted into every database known to man. As such I was to carry the name of the man who was only happy when he caused suffering unto others alongside my own till I die.

I made my way towards him, schooling my features into the morbid and serious features that was expected of a Church executor. If the boy was surprised at my lack of limb due to the useless sleeve on my right side he did not show it upon his features. The only hesitation I saw, augmented heavily with my training regarding how to deal with the civilian populace, was the slightest tensing of his neck muscles. Taking into account the training that I clearly saw as he carefully crafted his features into a wide smile beneath his near-orange, russet bangs I could haphazardly label him as the steadily growing population of rebellious teenagers running away from their lives of extravagance in favor of the sedentary lifestyle of the sheep that had made their fathers rich.

“Father Kotomine, I am here to guide you to the church.” He stated in English within the Japanese town. Despite the simplicity of the phrase I was suitably impressed of the teenager’s attempt to speak to me in the near-universal language instead of immediately divining I was able to speak Japanese due to my name. “I welcome you to this humble cit-”

“No need to speak to me in English, my child.” I stated warmly with the slightest of smiles I could offer. This boy was most certainly sharp in how to deal with superiors, closing the topic of his upbringing by an enterprising entrepreneur to a satisfying correct conclusion to my deductive abilities. “I have yet to forget how to speak my homeland’s language after all these years.”

He was dumbfounded the merest of moments before the fake smile split into a smaller, slightly truer smile.
We exchanged a few more pleasantries, him only politely inquiring about my missing arm once which I responded with the polite statement that the man who had done it had found peace in the end. He offered to carry my luggage in the odd silence that followed, which I gratefully accepted merely to see his eyes widen beneath his bangs laboriously widen as he attempted to hold the forty pound steel briefcase that held most of my equipment. The slight tingling of happiness at his discomfort was noticeably subdued, and I regarded that with high spirits. Living with the man who bred me to essentially to cause grief in another man for so many years had skewed my happiness towards the misery of others as it did to him. As I child it was the only way I knew to gain happiness outside the grey walls and Spartan designs of where I lived.

The difficulty of suppressing the instinct to harm for my own happiness had been titanic the first years after his death, but decades from that point I could happily admit that I did not do it any more than a sadistic child.

We passed the entrance of an alleyway for the briefest of seconds, and my companion finally caught up with a laborious heave.

A faint growling was steadily emanating from the darkness of the alley, I did not believe in the slightest that it was some sort of wild animal as no scent came from the wind.

“Is something wrong, Kotomine-sama?” Brief, the boy’s name, asked nervously.

I ignored him, looking upward and settling my gaze upon the church spire four blocks away. He would most certainly here the exorcism no matter how fast he ran.

“Put your auditory machine on.” I stated in a tone that would broker no objection, the brittle noise that was my voice with the tone immediately had him capitulate to my demands. Once the machine was properly placed, I gave him a nod and motioned for him to hand my briefcase.

I swiftly opened the case and pulled out the weapon supplied by the church for the numerous exorcisms that was predicted by Father Garterbelt. Holy steel, twice bathed in fire burning from the eternal flame from a dragons heart, inscribed with seventy-seven litanies of each prophet and a grain of wood from the crucifix He had died upon at its center, the metallic grey bullets at the tip of the Fifty Caliber shell was surrounded by grains of a chemical composition made in conjunction with the alchemists of Atlas to propel the work of blessed art to speeds of near relativistic speeds and cross the span of a mile the moment ordinary fifty caliber bullets were halfway through the barrel of their respective cannons.

There were many places I could appropriate clothing and toiletries, so the entire briefcase was filled by the rounds within that were optimized into cones to not waste space.

To the boy beside me it must have seen as if he was looking upon enough bullets to wage a small war.
I quickly unbuttoned my vestment until I was able to withdraw the delivery system for the weapon, that was harnessed against my side.

The weapon was called Trinity, as it had a barrel for each aspect of God.

I had only loaded the final shell when the pitiful soul struck. More of a fragment of a hate filled consciousness the wisp was circular in mass and charged at the boy. I saw no shadow at its feet, symbolizing its incorpeal form or a way to stop its attack from endangering the boy. Despite the near-superhuman levels of my body I would be unable to save the boy simply because a bullet that was issued from the mouth of the weapon in my hand would burn off his extremities from the residual heat or flash fry his lungs.

Just as the spirit’s maw was about to engulf the boy a blur of white, pink and black blurred and encapsulated him and landed by my side.

“What you waiting for fool?” Issued from the man standing by my side yet looking the other direction, his sharp eyes, button nose and massive afro easily marking him as my fellow priest. Clad in ceremonial vestments of white and pink that following words brought a smile to my face. “Waste that motherfucker.”

I began to recite the litanies to activate the weapon, a second more than enough to say it all.
I pulled back the hammer, mechanisms instantly doing the same to the other three.

“O pitiful shadow lost in the darkness; You born of the hatred of those between Heaven and Hell!”

I lined up the three silver barrels of Trinity towards the advancing, maddened spirit that grew
disproportionately as dozens of others joined it as its rage drew them like moths. The first litany activating a singular line of scripture upon the weapon to stop the round within from destroying the barrel utterly. The same runes were placed upon the ark by Noah himself.

“May the thunderous power of these holy weapons strike true; Let these mighty weapons made for your destruction guide you to peace!”

The second verse of the litany sparked the second line of scripture that encircled the three fastened barrels, the runes engraved upon David upon the three river stones he had used to slay Goliath to ensure that the shot will strike the enemy.

“Shattering your loathsome impurity with these divine weapons; These warheads shall strike you down with righteous anger and great vengeance!”

The three barrels lit up as the runes within generated the sonic waves that the Israelites used in their trumpets to bring down the walls of Jericho as commanded by Joshua, the man chosen by Moses to lead them to the land of milk and honey. The continuous blast stopped the advance of the furious conglomeration of evil spirits in its tracks, its incorpeal form useless against raw energy. It was only a secondary feature of the holy runes though… its main function was to prevent the weapon from igniting the atmosphere.

“Repent, Motherfucker!”

I pulled the trigger, and three hammers slammed into chambers to issue forth the holy warheads, the few molecules that had hastily returned into the vacuum quickly turning into a trail of blue plasma that lingered behind the divine, spiraling shells.

The bullets sank into the red yellow and black creature and for the briefest of moments Shirou Kotomine heard the words “O SHI-“ before the warheads exploded within and disintegrated the beast without so much as a trace of it left.

A dozen coins hit the ground, swiftly gathered by the black priest with a smug impression upon his features, I unloaded the spent cartridges from the weapon just as an unusual smile crossed his lips and swiftly slapped my on the back after dropping the coins into the dazed Brief’s hands.

“You and me, kid.” The famous priest stated, “We’ll be going a long ways together.”
….
Panty Stockings and Garterbelt X Fate/Stay night.

[Mattias]

Shirou got Bazett'ed?

[IhaxlikeNoob]

... A gun ... that shoots bullets at ... relativistic speeds, holy shit. Also, I just realized this is a crossover, heh Garterbelt.

[Chojomeka]

Repent, Motherfucker.......why am I thinking of Pulp Fiction?