[center][hr][h3]Archer
[sup][sup][i]Tristan -- The Knight of Lamentation[/i][/sup][/sup][/h3][b]Current Location:[/b] Latin District -- Paris Pantheon[hr][/center][i]"Ah, so you do have both of them with you,"[/i] Tristan thought, still without moving a muscle as he noticed Ywain's sudden disappearance. Not only that, but he could also get a glimpse at the other knight's weapon as well. In fact, this unexpected information was more than enough to satisfy him for the night. Tristan would have retired without any more offensive moves if it were not for the orders of the Masters commanding both Servants to kill him at this moment.

This was, at the very least, a great underestimation of Tristan's archery skill, to think that any of them could approach him still living.

"Perhaps, a final [i]song[/i] will be an appropriate gift," Tristan said as he opened fire like he was ready to. Still, he didn't make any apparent motion of aiming, firing, or even looking towards his target of the hour -- the Servant with the sheathed sword. After all, he wouldn't allow Ywain to know the tactics he could use against Lunette's ring. Not now at least.

What the other Ywain's companion would notice is that this time, Tristan was actually shooting to kill. One, two, three volleys of ten "shots" each with a minimal pause between them, but out of the ten "arrows" of each volley only seven would seek to hit Ogier, aiming for his neck, wrist, stomach, knees, pelvis, heel, or simply to bisect him, slicing right through the heart. Not only were these arrows faster than the ones he shot before, but they also came from far more complex angles that felt more like being struck by an invisible sword than actual arrows, it wasn't something meant to allow him to live at all.

The remaining three "arrows" of each volley plus an entire other ten "shots" would be unable to be noticed at the moment for all but those who actually knew how Tristan fought. Instead of aiming to hit any target, they snapped around any of the ends of the streets that led right to the Seine, forming traps that would catch and tear apart anyone who ran, or jumped into them.

Unless any of the other Servants could "fly", trying to give chase in this situation would be suicide. Hopefully, Ywain would be able to alert his ally to not do it, otherwise, it was unlikely he would notice it time to get out of this alive.

After spending less time shooting than it would take for one of the Master to blink their eyes, Tristan disappeared from their sight, turning back into his spirit form and dropping inside the Pantheon. A moment later, he would be on the streets, retreating towards the Core District, more specifically to Les Invalides.
[hr][center][b]Going towards:[/b] Retreating towards the Core[/center][hr][@ManyThings][@Danchou][@King Cosmos][@SSW]

[center][hr][h3]Madhisi[/h3][b]Current Location:[/b] Canal District -- Into the Spider's Web[hr][/center]With a little bit of concentration, Madhisi could see everything through Berserker's eyes. Or rather, she could [i]feel[/i] her. All that rage, that power, it was truly maddening, but Madhisi couldn't allow herself to succumb this time. She had to remain in control, clutching her arm despite the mind-numbing pain.

It took her some time to realize that this situation wasn't a favorable one anymore, they had to escape. Not only to remain alive but also to avoid anymore destruction than it was needed. This probably could be considered a victory of some sort. She was sure to have heard it through the roars of Berserker's rage, the identity of one of her foes swords. Perhaps this spider mage would be able to know who they were fighting later.

For the time being...

"Berserker, come back to me! Don't make me force you to, just retreat now! You've done well enough. Come back... now!" Madhisi said, or rather she screamed as both the voices of her telepathic connection with Berserker and her actual body got all mixed together in a cacophony of rage and reason.
[hr][center][b]Going towards:[/b] Nowhere[/center][hr][@Froppy][@Player 2][@Floodtalon]