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When in doubt, take the long route round the hill everything has been happening on. Which apparently has buildings nearby. Useful information.

You know, I've been thinking and it seems highly unlikely that Jack actually has a proper name. "We have been called Jack the Ripper" doesn't really count. xD
Assassin


Maria... had failed? No, that wasn't right. Maria had worked perfectly, unleashing its curse into an appropriate target and tearing apart their insides but... it was Saber instead. Saber that was too strong for the knives to tear apart in a single blow. Then she would just have to finish it manually; killing a heavily injured Servant inside the Mist before they worked out what they were really fighting would be easy for her--

It was a good thing that the Assassin hadn't remained in one place after launching the curse, as it made Archer's shots miss by larger margins than might have been expected; she had a chance to see them coming. What was that Servant playing at? If she got in and started fighting, then all they might do is take out Saber and her Master, which would make the assassination easier...

Which was exactly what the Master deserved. She had attacked--attacked and failed, but attacked all the same--Mother for no reason. It would be too kind to use Maria on her once the Servant was down, she would cut everything out one by one--

But Mother wanted her to retreat. Why? Why when she was so close to removing one of the biggest enemies in the war? It didn't make sense but she couldn't disobey Mother. The small Servant once again moved within the Mist, moving back towards the town--away from Mother, but it wouldn't matter; this gave someone like her alleys and paths to disappear between, moving across property boundaries and taking the long route around the Church, to circle up through its graveyard and arrive from behind.

Yet as soon as she was gone, the Mist rapidly dissipated, leaving no sign or memory of its presence--or anything about the attack itself save for the injuries inflicted and, perhaps, the signs of magecraft used.

Information Erasure: B

"We struck because they were going to attack, but Saber took the blow herself."

@Crusader Lord
Really, it's the appearance of the thing.
Because that matters so much when trying to splatter her brains over the ground? :P
But he's already met one that isn't either!
Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus


With the injured Servant now less likely to bleed to death on the floor, Nero showed every intention of what she planned to do with Medusa right now: hoist her in a bridal carry, taking extra care not to drag that hair on the ground any further. Though already stained and dirtied by the fighting and bloodshed, there was no reason to allow it to grow any worse than it already was. Besides which, the hair was longer than the Emperor was tall--not that this was in any way irritating--and would be a tripping hazard if allowed to drag around freely.

Maybe, since it was so long, help would be needed to clean it afterwards?

"As the Praefectus is already doing an admirable job of organising the relief efforts, we should concern ourselves with keeping our associate here away from any further danger, until she can wake and help us," the blonde stated, walking through the burning city without an apparent care in the world. The value of good subordinates to delegate to was never to be underestimated and it saved her the need from having to arrange a means to put out the fire.

Most of her more noticeable abilities would just cause more fire, anyway. Maybe once they got everyone out? It would be better to burn everything down properly and draw up plans for an architecturally superior replacement. One that was less inclined to burn down in future.




Abe Ai


Being carried like this was... demeaning, since she could have held on perfectly fine. It was also becoming steadily apparent how more and more inaccurate historical records were about the warlord; she had certainly known to expect a good degree of rudeness but for the Archer to consider flying rifles a valid method of travel... or even to be able to use flying rifles in the first place...

Of course, the position made it easier to hold the phone to stay in contact--something that, compared to a normal magus, she had no trouble using. Growing up in modern Japan without secreting yourself away was useful for that. Staying in contact meant that she could put her familiar's view of the chase and fighting to immediate use.

"Medea seems to be trying to reach the sea; I can see a boat in the distance," the onmyouji confirmed, certain that would be enough for the various Servants to work with--if she was just going for an escape, then it wouldn't take more than a delaying action, "We need to be careful of the archers that she has aiming skywards."




Meran Briefort Marzikek


Like the others, the white-haired magus was quite clear on her lack of ability to contribute to the task of putting out a burning city. Nor would she be a terribly reassuring presence for any trapped citizens, so she concentrated on the simple task of making herself stay out of the way and monitoring the call's signal strength. Good, everything was holding up as expected so far.

"Ah, I forgot that most magi have little experience with technology," came the monotonous reply, "I shall be sure to provide remedial lessons upon our return."
Johanna Faust


Maybe the flick would have meant more if the adrenaline from the sudden conflict had worn off or had she been younger. All it amounted to was a simple case of her Servant being annoying... and refusing to explain anything, still. Well, if he wouldn't explain, she would just have to work around his displayed behaviour, which at least left her a sure defender... if one extremely aggrieved by it for whatever reason.

"No child should spend what remains of their life in this war. The risk was worth it," Johanna stated, looking around and through the tree-line, "I'm staying beside the beach, this way."
This war really mucks about with women and children.
@Crimson Paladin Apologies for the bad timing in joining. Things should get... back to normal GMing and plot shortly. Though you could always join in on finishing this fight now, should you like? xD
Lilianna Belwiss


All power and no finesse, combined with suicidal recklessness? Were this a duel, it would be criminal to not call it off after inflicting a minor scratch to bruise her opponent's ego. Yet a duel was not the same as a battlefield and no such mercy could be spared for her foes. The first to get in range found their clumsy attempt at a strike going wide and her legs collapsing beneath; Lilianna's first strikes had severed tendons and left her ultimately harmless for other knights in the back lines to finish off at their leisure.

The second fighter could be considered to have a better time of it--if only because Lilianna wasn't ready with an incapacitating blow handy and staying to pick a target within range of massive hammers would be a one-way trip to the morgue. Of course, simply bleeding an opponent dry through dashing in to inflict minor cut after minor cut should eventually wear the enemy down... but even simple adrenaline meant that her injuries seemed to do nothing.

The fencer simply went for a more economical approach, using footwork to draw the heedless enemy back into the ranks--and letting numerous blows from behind deal with the matter. Honestly, attacking the Knights without a numerical advantage?




Sir Tyaethe Radistirin


Walking for days without rest was a good way to travel, faster even than by horse and certainly faster than a group that needed to bring supplies for the journey along with them. It gave all the time in the world to hunt down cultists as they rested, to follow any caught out but nevertheless taking the wise idea to run--and to find out that there were others here, doing the same thing even before the Iron Roses had been drafted into the plans of nobility. At least it would mean a swift conclusion to the hunt, once the last remnants were defeated.

So it was that those looking up might notice a figure moving behind the archers, caked in shining red and dry brown. Syrupy liquid slithered down from a raised sword--and all raising one question: where had all the blood come from? An answer that came with a wordless roar, the massive sword swinging down through a defenceless cultist like paper, the paladin stepping forward into the spray before they had even fallen and smashing her shield against another to send her tumbling down into the canyon below.

The ambushers, themselves, had been caught from behind and were now doomed to be ground to dust below whilst those unprepared for a sudden melee got to be lambs to the slaughter.
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