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If those two new slots are still free, I would like to state my interest! I can join the Discord when I'm home!

Yes, currently it's reduced to one slot, though. You are welcome to take the last one if you want.
Well, so let's see:

@Rondo of Blood, @Pyromania99, @ERode, @XmasForJuan, @Rune_Alchemist - Supposing that you are approved by @Reflection and @floodtalon, you should all be ok by me as well.

@Stormborn - However, your character has issues. Mostly related to her backstory and the way it should affect her CS. Here are the most important ones:
- Since she's not a part of the Mage's Association she shouldn't have a magical crest at all. That's more or less an endemic concept to the mages of the Association since it's the best way to secure that their family's knowledge is preserved in their search for a path to the Root. Other spellcasters don't do that.
- Speaking the language of Elementals is something that's not a skill that's possible to be achieved by normal humans no matter what your magecraft foundation is. The only modern human that's known to be able to do this had a very specific set of circumstances happen in his background to allow it that's absolutely impossible to replicate. Your character may be capable of some basic comprehension when it comes to communicating with creatures that don't speak human languages, but the ability for unrestrained talking with animals and Elementals should be considered lost knowledge.
- What exactly those two first mystic codes (the cloak and dagger) in her description do?
- Also, you can't talk with the dead if they are already departed from the World. While it's not impossible to communicate with past generations of one's family this would also mean that all of them have been hanging around in the World as wraiths, or similar presences ever since they died. And since spirits dissipate over time, this has a limit of how far back you can achieve any meaningful interaction with them which is probably around no more than a couple centuries or so. Any spirit older than this is probably too far gone from humanity to be able to understand or be understood.
π™°πš›πšŽπš—πšŠ'𝚜 π™±πšŠπšŒπš”πšœπšπšŠπšπšŽ
"Oh, come on, guys. Stop worrying about this old stuff, let's just have a good time here and then go celebrate just like we did after showing those Picts who's boss in Britain," Mordred said as she noticed the mood brewing up between the other Knights once again. And then, she pulled Gareth by the shoulders once againβ€”clacking their armors togetherβ€”before adding, "Right, sis?"

Her excited grin gave way to a puzzled frown once they were addressed by a certain weirdly mismatched duo.

"Hey, do I know you from somewhere?" Mordred said to the mentor-like Archer while squinting her eyes as if trying to pull the information out of the depths of her memories. Anyway, she quickly shrugged it off once something far more more outlandish came from the mouth of his blonde tagalong.

"Did you say Merlin? How in the world do you know that pervert weasel? Wait, never mind that, you mean the Paladins like the same ones of that pink-haired chick I saw on a magazine some other daβ€”" she began saying before being sharply interrupted by a certain brooding Archer's harp.

"Bombarding others with questions without giving them even a chance to answer is a sad thing to do, Sir Mordred," Tristan said in his typical overly melodramatic tone, after interrupting Mordred's excited ramblings.

"Yeah, like you're one to talk, Saddy. Hmph," the Knight of Treachery retorted, almost out of obligation, even though she didn't say anything else.

Tristan then, lookedβ€”even though his eyes were still closedβ€”right at Bradamante and nodded slightly as if he were reassuring himself of something. No doubt a feeling that his fellow friends Lancelot and Gawain would understand as well as him.

"I assure you that we will do our best, Lord Chiron," he said to his fellow Archer.

πšƒπš‘πšŽ π™Ώπš˜πš›πš

Othis took notes of the words spoken by Holmes during the trip, making a point of not missing a single one of them in order to have better material for her project later on. Doing so proved to be a nice way to spend the travel time, since the ride was short that she barely noticed when they arrived at their desired location.

However, that was not the only reason for their ride to be so short...

"Indeed," Othis said after listening to Holmes' cautionary words. "This situation is too good to not have anything fishy behind it," she added, unable to resist the urge of saying that line while they are the port.

"With the way this is being set up, I wouldn't find it strange to find a boat ready for us the moment we step into the pier," she said as she stood beside Holmes.

"I guess that we won't find out if we don't go and ask," Othis said as she walked towards the pier's administration office while paying careful attention to their surrounding.
"I don't think it's so simple. It's impossible to inflict such extensive wounds without spilling any blood. If nothing else, the fact that there's so little of it indicates that this personβ€”or beingβ€”is well-acquainted with their sinister craft," Grain said after listening to the comments of the mages. She may not be able to help too much with the magically related part of the investigation. Yet, such a level of physical evidence was well within her capacity of analysis, at least.

Even so, it wouldn't take long before things took a turn to an area that was more in tune with her field of expertise.

Grain's senses sparked as the clattering dolls came, clacking their clickety limbs in a calamitous cacophony.

"Don't do anything that'll place you into needless danger. If you need, stay behind me and I guarantee no harm shall befall you," Grain said to her partners as she summoned a spear to her hands. She immediately followed by taking a step forward and trusting the blade at one of the dolls' chests with enough strength that damage it caused would look more like it being shot with a rifle than pierced by a polearm.

"Wait, is this..." Grain commented in a confused voice as she drew her weapon back in a defensive stance, ready to fend off the next attacker.
"π™΄πš‡π™Ώπ™»π™Ύπšπ™΄πš 𝙾𝙡 πšƒπ™·π™΄ π™±π™Ύπš„π™½π™³π™»π™΄πš‚πš‚ π™·π™Ύπšπ™Έπš‰π™Ύπ™½"

β€’ π™·πšŽπš’πšπš‘πš: 157cm | β€’ πš†πšŽπš’πšπš‘πš: 54kg | β€’ 𝙱/πš†/𝙷: 88/56/89

β€’ π™½πšŠπš–πšŽ: Sherry
β€’ πšƒπš’πšπš•πšŽ: Explorer of the Boundless Horizon
β€’ π™°πšπšŽ: 19
β€’ π™²πš•πšŠπšœπšœ: Mystic Explorer
β€’ π™°πšœπš™πšŽπšŒπš 𝚘𝚏 πš‚πš˜πšžπš•:
Backpack of the Explorer γ€Œ Endless Fantasia of Adventure 」Normally, one wouldn't think of a backpack as a great treasure. However, for an explorer, inventory space is the most important thing. Even the best magic sword in the world is useless if you have no way of carrying it unless you throw away some of your other belongings.And that's where Sherry's Aspect shines. A magical (water-proof) backpack that not only has limitless space, never weights more than it would if completely that also automatically sorts your inventory and provides with whatever you want with but a mere thought.If convenience and style fell in love and had a baby, it would surely be like this.
β€’ π™°πš‹πš’πš•πš’πšπš’πšŽπšœ:
β€’ π™±πšŠπšŒπš”πšπš›πš˜πšžπš—πš:
β€’ π™Έπš—πšŸπšŽπš—πšπš˜πš›πš’:
β€’ π™Ύπšπš‘πšŽπš›:

Current Location: Montmartre -- Underground Tunnels
"So, they chose to come after us, huh? I guess that the only choice we have is fighting without restraints now that we are finally in a safe zone." Madhisi could see the flare in the tunnels behind them and almost feel the paupable aura of hatred coming from the Servant that chose to pursue them. Sadly, this wasn't going to become a fight in their own terms.

Running away and using tactics wasn't something that Berserker excelled at. And Madhisi couldn't spare the time for a drawn out duel, but if their enemy was already determined enough to come after them while unleashing such an attack, things would be much easier.

After she found a dry recess in a wall to sit against and get herself mentally prepared for the unavoidable torture that was to come, Madhisi turned towards Berserker in her spirit form and said in a voice devoid of any great emotion, "Kill them with everything you've got. Don't let this become a drawn out fight. Defeat them fast no matter what you have to do, or we are going to die here. Deploy your Noble Phantasm from the very beginning if you have to."

"Now, go and kill whoever was it that destroyed our home, Berserker!"

Going towards: Going nowhere

@GreenGoat@Cu Chulainn@floodtalon

Tristan β€” The Knight of Lamentation
Current Location: Somewhere around the Core β€” Duel
"Ah, so that's how it's, then. Your beauty and your sadness are beyond even the track of Failnaught's melody, milady" Tristan thought as his opponent pushed the assault forth with a decisive and finishing strike of unparalleled beauty.

"Maybe, being defeated by such peerless beauty wouldn't be so sad. However, I can't forfeit my life just yet, not because of myself, but for someone who trusted her everything to this unworthy knight," he thought as he used the last of Failnaught's strength to counter Saber's attack with one last barrage of at least 20 "arrows", this time each of them spelling immediate death, or the loss of a limb. Some of the "shots" even came from crossed angles to encroach and slice through like so many shears.

As for the strike targeting him, dodging it was impossible. the only thing Tristan could do was defend himself with the ruined Failnaught and hope that it would be enough. And, it barely was. In fact, even accounting for Failnaught's sturdiness and the Archer's armor, he didn't escape this clash unharmed. A deep slice through his left shoulder making his arm pretty much useless.

However, not all was lost. Not as long as he had someone worth protecting.

And so, with a regretful thought, the Archer prayed.

And so, his request was answered with a miracle.

It might not be enough to make up for the difference in their skill, but the power coming from the Command Spell was more than enough to heal and restore Tristan, and Failnaught, to their best. No, even more than that.

If only for a brief moment, Archer could go beyond his very best, and Failnaught's song would be one to bring envy to the gods of poetry, and its "arrows", to those of archery.

It was only Tristan's conviction, but that was certainly had to be enough.

With his renewed strength, the red-haired Archer pushed forward, feet cracking the roof under themselves. Saber was faster and more skilled, but she doubtlessly lacked strength in the physical sense and that was what Tristan tried to capitalize on as he forced Failnaught forward and down with a burst of power unlike anything he displayed so far. He tried to push Saber's sword out of alignment and impair her form. At the same time, more and more "arrows" came, dozens at once, with a mere movement of Tristan's fingers. Most of them were aimed to kill or main Saber in the same manner as the those of his previous counter, but about one quarter of them were instead meant to bind her. For any other Servant, being bound by Failnaught would spell certain death, but Tristan had no doubt that Saber's mastery of the wind would allow her to get rid of them with ease. However, even a moment of restriction would make a lot of difference at this point.

However, this was only half of his counter as the true strike would follow the "arrows" when Tristan's free hand pulled away from his bow and unsheathed his sword. A simple, but effective downward strike aimed at Saber's head would follow. Between trying to not get pushed back, dealing with his "arrows", and Tristan's deadly strike, Saber's ability would have to be tested this time.

Otherwise, there truly was no chance for Tristan.
Going towards: Nowhere

π™΄π™»π™Έπš‚π™΄ πš‚π™»π™°πšƒπ™΄
π™±πš›πšŠπšŸπšŽ π™½πšŽπš  πš†πš˜πš›πš•πš

"In case any of you are wondering, I have a special license from my contractor," Lizzie said as she noticed the obvious apprehension of her companions. Other than that, though, she remained silent on their trip to the rift.

The weapons she had with her was certainly something that would need a special license to carry. All of them, cutting edge military equipment sent for performance test in the rift. It wasn't the kind of tool that would be seen in the hands of an average Joe with no contacts or experience.

When they arrived at the rift, the first thing Lizzie did was load her gun and then, look at the others. "A swamp was only expected of this place," she said as if replying to Katie's complain. "If we stay out of the high water whatever you are wearing shouldn't make much difference.

"Either way, when are we going to move? There's a lot to explore before it gets dark."

Tristan β€” The Knight of Lamentation
Current Location: Somewhere around the Core β€” Duel
"Apologies for underestimating you, milady. None but my King and a handful of my comrades has ever been able to face against my bow at such a short range before. It would have been sad if our duel ended before I had a good chance of appreciating the beauty of your skill," Tristan said as his opponent avoided his arrows and skillfully disengaged.

"The craft of the warriors from the Far East is amazing, indeed. However," Tristan said as his opponent disappeared from his sightβ€”which he hardly requiredβ€”momentarily, "such a move isn't enough."

As he said so, Tristan spun around, parrying his opponent's sword with Failnaught and trying to force Saber into corner. The wind strikes would be met with Tristan's "arrows", no matter how many that came, Tristan would be able to deflect them and still strike back. Speed of projectiles and rate of fireβ€”or rather, saturation attacksβ€”are Failnaught's forte.

The storm that Saber claimed for wouldn't come, however, in its place there would be nothing but the sheer melancholic melody of Tristan's harp playing amidst their clashing still. Soon enough, the number "arrows" the Archer could "fire" in between each well-timed parry, feint, and dodge would add up. Five, ten, fifteen, thirty. A countless number of "shots" capable of overwhelming none but the fastest heroes by volume and speed alone.

And then, they stopped.

Not Tristan's melody, but certainly the "arrows" meant for nothing but protecting himself. Instead of them, his harp grew even more somber as if the very sadness that defined the Knight of Lamentation's existence took form in the shape of his song.

"Your skill is truly second to none, milady. However," Tristan said once again. His voice carrying an unbearable melancholy with them, as if he finally understood something about his opponent that even she may not have been completely aware of.

"They bear the marks of sadness all over them. The way you swing your blade, and the melody of your wind tell me of a story of tragedy, a tale of love, and above all else, a sad end. The life of a Heroic Spirit is tragic one indeed, however, your tragedy is a beautiful one. Wouldn't you be willing to put this sad duel aside for the time being and listen to the words of this humble knight, milady?" Tristan asked. While his words couldn't cut the flesh like his "arrows", for a true Heroic Spirit that knew a life of sadness, one that knew of regret, one who died alone, the melody of his harp and his words were colder than a knife scraping against bone.

Such was his true power. The song of Tristan, the Child of Sadness.

Going towards: Nowhere


Current Location: Montmartre -- Not-so-Hidden Workshop
Madhisi could barely believe in her own ears. How in the world did someone locate her workshop for the second time in a row? Not only that but for this instance they decided to just bomb the place regardless of the people that lived here and had nothing to do with the war.

"Normally, I would be all too willing to fight. However, if I do it here, there's no way I can avoid killing more innocents, and this is something I can't do," Madhisi thought. She had to find a way of escaping, but there was only one way out of her workshop except for...

"The underground, that's it!" she remembered the fact that apparently most of this city had an extensive net of underground tunnels below it. This building was no different, of course.

"Berserker, open a way to the tunnels under us. But don't use your full strength, that would probably make the building collapse. We are going to escape and find you another battle where you are less likely to cause a disaster," Madhisi said, ordering Berserker to move.

As soon as the opening was made (regardless of the outcome to the building), Madhisi picked her most valuable belongings and jumped into it, commanding Berserker to go back to her Spirit Form. She also sacrificed her last golem to disguise the entrance was well as she could. They couldn't afford the risks of fighting here, they just couldn't.

The half-flooded tunnel was the definition of pitch black, but that wouldn't be a great impediment for Madhisi as long as Mordred wasn't fighting, she could concentrate enough to use her own magic. Calling on a spell that was used to read even the faintest of the wind currents, she began to follow the way the wind guided her to.

Meanwhile, she could hope that her pursuers wouldn't realize what happened until they were far enough, especially since the other Master's attack, combined with Berserker's attack had a really great chance of causing the building to collapse.

Going towards: Escaping through the underground

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