DrowsyPangolin

Fate/Empty Providence

tfw someone ripped Moonlit's shit.

forums.spacebattles.com/threads/the-ho..

@Yukitamas

Wow. Uh... plagiarism is the sincerest form of flattery?

Fate/Empty Providence

Ernest LaCreux

Western Fuyuki Roadside, Near the Forest

The survey of the city had been rather uneventful thus far. For his part, Ernest had tried to familiarize himself with the streets as well as he could. He had been distracted in this endeavor, however, by the arrival of his familiar at the church. Unfortunately, the magus was incapable of speaking through his chosen familiar. Human Thralls were certainly capable of speech, so long as their vocal cords were mostly intact, but the bird was a bit problematic in that regard. It was unfortunate, but the dove had been sent primarily for reconnaissance purposes anyway. Through the bird, Ernest had observed Ruler and the doll, which evidently was the familiar of one of the other Masters. The magus had heard of a family of mages that specialized in the use of dolls at some point, but he struggled to remember the name. Regardless, it was intel, and any bit was helpful.

The Overseer was far from what he expected. He had been led to believe that the position was typically filled by a representative from the Church, though having a Servant fill the position made more sense, he supposed. Ernest had found himself distracted by Ruler's unique aura for a moment, until the arrival of another Servant. The doll called him Rider. Anything else was difficult to ascertain. The bird managed to catch the first half of the conversation, but was unable to make out much once the others entered the church. Again, an unfortunate occurrence, but any knowledge of the competition was helpful. With that, Ernest set the dove off again to circle near the church for observation purposes. Perhaps he would be able to spot another Servant. In the meantime, he needed to share the information he'd gleaned with Nim-

The sound of a car door flying open grabbed Ernest's attention just in time to see Nimrod darting off into the forest. The Servant had shouted something to him as he bolted, but Ernest hadn't been able to make it out.

For a moment, Ernest sat there, dumbfounded. Why had Lancer run off? What was going on? Were they in danger? He had already lost sight of Lancer, and in the dim night light he wasn't even entirely certain which direction he had gone. The confusion was only amplified by the fact that the limousine was still in mot-

The limousine was still moving.

“STOP. Stop the car!” Ernest slammed the base of his cane against the floorboard, and the Thrall in the driver's seat brought the vehicle to a screeching halt. The baffled magus leaned out the open door of the car, peering into the dark forest before him. If there was danger, running into the forest was almost certainly suicide. That thought kept him in the limousine. A surge of anxiety filled the stoic mage, and for a moment his frustration bubbled over. “Lancer! Lancer what is the meaning of this?!” A feeling in the pit of Ernest's stomach told him things were taking a turn. A turn he had not expected, and one that was almost certain to be unfortunate.

This was not what Ernest had envisioned even moments ago. No, shouting into the night, baffled and concerned was not what he had wanted at all. He shook, his hands wrenching tightly around his cane. Again he shouted, straining his ears afterward to hear anything. Silence. Only insects and birds.

Wait.

In an instant, Ernest had commanded the second dove, the one that had been following the car, to fly into the inhospitable darkness of the forest. The chance of finding anything was still small. Lancer was far faster than the familiar, and it was difficult to even ascertain which direction Nimrod had went. Still, the mage spurred the creature onward, beating its tiny wings with savage force against the night air. He was seeing through the dove's eyes now. It was difficult to navigate the forest, but he could still vaguely sense Lancer's energy in the distance, and so he pushed the bird onward. Onward and onward, with enough force to severely endanger the delicate frame of the familiar, undead or not. Ernest felt desperation boiling in his veins. His heart strained in his chest. Despair gouged a pit in the depths of his stomach. The further the bird flew, the closer it got to Lancer, the deeper the black hole grew. Something was very, very wrong.

Fate/Empty Providence

@Moonlit Sonata@Yukitamas@Berserk Gene

I'm cool with someone subbing in for Nimrod if they'd like to. Personally, that seems like the best option to me, as it seems a bit simpler than recontracting and everything.

EDIT: Upon further thought, I'm cool with recontracting as well, since there are still Servants out there that I'm sure you guys would like to get a chance at playing. So, if someone would like to do that hit me up.

Fate/Empty Providence

Ernest LaCreux

Ernest nodded with what seemed to be a look of satisfaction. “Likewise, Nimr.” The magus paused for a moment, adjusting his tie and mulling over his thoughts. After a few seconds, he nodded. “Together we will triumph in this Grail War.” The words were decisive, certain, as though no other conclusion was possible. Ernest maintained his grim demeanor, but there was a hint of confidence in the man's gravelly voice now. He turned away from the map and strode back toward the center of the basement where he had summoned Nimrod. “We will set out on our survey of the city when the Thralls return.” Ernest knelt down by the nearby bird cage, which currently contained the two doves that he had sacrificed during the summoning ritual. “In the meantime, I will take a few steps to make this place a more satisfactory base of operations.” He withdrew the two dead birds carefully, placing them on the ground with care. He took a deep breath and began an incantation in Old French.
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Some time passed before the sound of the limousine slowing to a halt outside reached Ernest's ears. He motioned for Nimrod to follow him up the stairs. In the time it had taken the Thralls to return, the sun had already sunk below the horizon. In that time, Ernest had taken a few precautionary steps. Firstly, he had setup two Bounded Fields. The first was incredibly basic and served as little more than an alarm. The second was only slightly more complicated, and would only trigger after the first one. It was set to immediately alter the orders of any nearby Thralls in the event of an intruder to defend the house, or at the very least to get a decent look at the invader. Ernest had also raised the two doves to serve as familiars. While living animals were fully capable of serving this purpose, the undead tended to be a bit more sturdy. The doves would be useful for reconnaissance. One had already been sent out to the Church. It was likely that the Masters would be expected to check in in some way, but there was also the possibility of running into other Masters along the way. The dove would be useful for both scouting out the competition and hearing whatever the Overseer had to say. The second bird remained in the house at the moment, but Ernest intended to have it follow them to watch for anything out of the ordinary.

The Thralls entered the house carrying a few over-sized garment bags, which Ernest beckoned them to open. Inside were suits of various colors: one black, one brown, one charcoal, and one grey with pinstripes. All of the suits were quite large, far too large for any average man. Ernest motioned toward the garments. “If my estimations were correct, these should fit you. I can assure you they are of the highest quality that money can buy. Take your pick, Nimr.” In addition to the suits, the Thralls had brought in several large pairs of dress shoes and a number of silk ties. Ernest waited a few minutes for Lancer to dress, giving his Thralls their new orders in the meantime: One was to stay behind and guard the house, the other was to drive the limousine.

After Nimrod had finished dressing, Ernest walked toward the door. “If you're ready, we should head out now.” He opened the door with a slight creak and stepped out onto the lawn. The limousine had been parked by the curb, and glinted in the soft glow of a nearby streetlight. “This will be our means of transportation, if it suits you.” In truth, it was their only real means of transportation, other than traveling on foot, which struck Ernest as risky. The magus gripped his cane, looking up toward the moon. The sun had set on the first day of the Holy Grail War. All the Servants had likely been summoned by now. The Thrall opened the door and Ernest entered the vehicle, motioning for Nimrod to follow. The interior of the limousine was quite spacious and comfortable. The vehicle roared to life as the Thrall turned the key. Above them, the dove familiar was circling.

@Player 2

Fate/Empty Providence

Ernest will probably set up a Bounded Field, make Thralls out of the doves he killed earlier, get Nimrod some pants, and then set out with Nimrod to get more familiar with the city (and also maybe visit the church).

Fate/Empty Providence

@Player 2 No problem amigo.

Fate/Empty Providence

@Moonlit Sonata Cookies you say?

@Beloss That whole sequence was wonderful.

Fate/Empty Providence

Ernest LaCreux

Ernest nodded. Apparently his initial greeting had been satisfactory. “Very well, I shall call you Nimr then.” The magus took exceptional care to pronounce the name correctly, as mispronunciation seemed to be one of his Servant's pet peeves. Nimrod's comment regarding the Thralls got another nod out of Ernest, who clicked his tongue in a disapproving manner. “Yes, I'm afraid you're correct in that aspect. These Thralls are pale imitations of actual life. Still...” He tapped his cane on the floor of the basement, leading both Thralls to rise. “I manage to get a fair amount of use from them.” He glanced toward one of the Thralls disapprovingly. Nimrod's observation had actually struck rather close to the root of Ernest's current predicament. He could raise the dead, but he couldn't give them life... though that hadn't stopped him from trying. Still, if the Grail could truly grant any wish, then there was a chance.

Lancer. Excellent. The class seemed to fit Nimrod quite well. “Lancer. Good. If it please you, I shall refer to you by that title when we are in the presence of our enemies, so as not to reveal your identity.” 'Nimr' was less likely to let the secret out than 'Nimrod', but there was always the chance that one of the other Masters was particularly scholarly. Lancer was the safer bet. Ernest kept up his characteristic nodding as Nimrod spoke. Two Noble Phantasms. Very good. As Nimrod took note of his current state of undress, Ernest tapped his cane, leading one of the Thralls to rush upstairs. “Ah yes, of course. I will send these two to purchase clothing for you... though sizing might be a bit difficult...” The Thrall returned with what seemed to be a completely ordinary notebook and pen. Ernest scribbled on the page, occasionally looking back toward Nimrod, then scribbling some more. “Right, then.” He tore the page from the book and handed it to the Thrall. He then placed his hand on the construct's head and began muttering something in French. The creature froze for a moment and then rushed up the steps, followed shortly thereafter by its companion. That chore out of the way, Ernest turned back to Nimrod.

“I've sent them to procure you a suit. I can assure you it will be of the highest quality. In the meantime, though, you may gird yourself with one of those sheets, if you wish.” Ernest pointed toward a shelf in the corner of the room upon which rested several folded sheets. “I apologize for not having something prepared beforehand, but there are no records of your measurements in the legends.” That might have qualified as a joke. Ernest turned and began walking toward the far wall of the abnormally large basement. “As for our first course of action... I believe we should familiarize ourselves with this city, our battlefield.” He motioned toward a large map that had been very recently pinned to the wall of the basement. “This is a map of Fuyuki. We are currently here.” He pointed his cane toward their current position in the eastern section of the city. “You may notice that there is a cemetery nearby. That is somewhat... we'll say 'beneficial' to my purposes.” Ernest tapped the location of each fallen leyline with the tip of his cane. “The other Masters are likely to be around those locations, though some of them surely know better.” Ernest looked toward Nimrod. “It is my guess that all of the Servants will have been summoned by the end of the day.”

@Player 2

Fate/Empty Providence

Ernest LaCreux

The searing light of the summoning ritual faded, and Ernest beheld the impossible figure before him. The ritual had succeeded. Deep within Ernest, a long dead voice made an exclamation of triumph. 'I've done it, Marie. I've actually done it.' The magus himself, however, barely seemed to react at all despite the great accomplishment. Ernest surveyed his Servant with a discerning eye. The great Hunter was every bit as impressive as his legend suggested. With such a Servant, even the most absolute of obstacles might be challenged. The magus' hands fell to rest upon the head of his cane.

Nimrod's initial threat was met with little more than the slightest twitch of the eye. Such behavior was to be expected. One did not summon a man hailed as a veritable god of rebellion expecting subservience. No, if anything Nimrod's attitude was reassuring. No mistakes had been made. After a moment, Ernest raised his eyes to meet those of his Servant and gave a courteous bow before making a sincere effort to straighten his posture. “I appreciate your interest... and your cooperation.” The words were somewhat stiff, as if they had been practiced time and time again. Ernest's eyes remained focused on the towering man that stood before him, as if he was still trying to discern something. After another moment of silence, Ernest nodded. “Yes. I am your Master. My name is Ernest LaCreux.” He tapped his cane against the floor of the basement. “Welcome, King of Babylonia.”

As Ernest welcomed the arrival of Nimrod, the two Thralls crossed the room, taking positions on either side of the magus and kneeling before the great hunter. It was difficult to make out their features beneath their hoods, but they moved as one unit, with machine-like rigidity. Ernest maintained his stiff, overly aristocratic stance, a stark comparison to Nimrod's relaxed posture. Despite the success of the summoning, there was one thing that still troubled the mage. His modifications to the ritual had allowed him to summon the specific Servant that he had sought, but the King of Babylonia had an extensive reputation, and the question of what class of Servant he had materialized as was still uncertain. “But, King of Babylonia, your reputation is storied and extensive... Your feats are numerous, so tell me, in which class have you been summoned here?” The question risked an appearance of foolishness, but it was necessary nonetheless. Surely Nimrod qualified for a number of classes, and while Berserker or Assassin was incredibly unlikely, any of the other classes seemed quite possible. Going by Nimrod's legendary hunting ability, Archer or Lancer seemed the most likely.

Fate/Empty Providence

Ernest LaCreux

(Eastern Fuyuki, Near the Foreigner's Cemetery)

The wheels of the limousine slowed to a halt. Inside, Ernest took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. It had taken a considerable amount of time and money, but everything was now in place. Across from him sat a hunched figure, hooded and masked, with a submachine gun lying across its lap. Arming the Thrall so heavily this early was likely an unnecessary precaution, but one could never be too careful. The other Thrall, likewise concealed beneath its clothing, was currently serving as the limousine's driver. Having arrived at his destination, Ernest buttoned his coat and glanced toward the armed Thrall across from him. “Conceal your weapon... and bring the birds with you.” The undead minion did as it was commanded, folding the stock of its weapon and hiding it within the folds of its long coat in a series of near-mechanical movements. The Thrall then reached to its side, picking up a simple bird cage. Within the cage were a pair of doves, recently purchased. Their blood would serve as the medium for the summoning ritual. Human blood might have been preferable, but Ernest lamented that such a thing was not nearly as easy to come by in Fuyuki as it had been back home. Still, it would do. It had to.

Ernest exited the limousine, along with his two undead companions, and viewed what would likely be his residence for the entirety of the war. A rather small, Western-styled house stood before him. The property, which resided in the eastern part of the city, was a far cry from the lavish manor house that the mage had been used to. In addition to this inconvenience, its location was not as advantageous as it could have been. There were certainly more opportune locations within Fuyuki, but Ernest had no intention of becoming a target, and such places were certain to become points of congregation for the other Masters. No, he would play his hand as carefully as possible. The location was inconsequential, after all, he had taken special precaution to ensure he received his desired Servant... if his alteration to the incantation worked. The property did have one advantage: a large basement. This suited Ernest perfectly. He had always preferred to practice his Magecraft underground when possible. There was a certain irony to that that the man was not entirely ignorant of. With a silent motion, Ernest beckoned the Thralls to follow him into the house. For the time being, they would serve as his assistants.

After a considerable amount of time and effort, the summoning circle had been completed. All that was left was to place the relic and begin the ritual. One of the Thralls produced a steel case from its coat and held it out towards Ernest. With sure fingers, the mage opened the case, revealing a clay brick, which seemed incredibly old and worn. The brick was said to have been used in the foundations of a certain ancient tower, and Ernest had taken great care to ensure its authenticity. With an air of cold reverence, the mage took the brick from its case and gently placed it in the center of the circle. Motioning the Thralls away, Ernest took a deep breath, and extending his hand over the circle, began the incantation. “Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill...” The incantation began as normal. As the mage recited the words, he felt a great warmth flare up inside of him, like a surge of flame in a cold furnace. An eerie glow emanated from the circle and from the Command Seals atop his right hand. The pale red light filled the basement, and the air began to rush outward from the circle, whipping at Ernest's coat. The mage recited the summoning ritual perfectly, but as the last line left his lips he clenched his fist and appended his own alteration to the summoning contract:

"Raphèl mai amècche zabì almi"

The line was meant to ensure specificity. If Dante was to be believed, that line should've had meaning to one spirit and one spirit alone. Ernest's eyes squinted as the room was rocked by an explosion of blinding light and heat.