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Owner	Pose
Sanary Rondel	Normally a bustling... Okay, that's a lie. The village, lacking any real name or identifying features other than the smell of pig that goes out for nearly a mile, is rather quiet today. The pigs are just as noisy, of course, and there's even a few chickens running about in their pens guarded by some fairly new-looking cannons.      What's so strange about the village, then? It's empty. No ranchers, no children, nobody pissing in the river. Everyone's simply gone, and there's been clear signs of a struggle. Bits of clothing strewn about, blood splattered on the grass, and there's even a few broken weapons of dubious quality scattered about the raised mound of dirt that passes for a town square.      Sanary's digging around near the house with the largest pig pen in the village, looking rather distressed about something as she zips about to try and find... Something. Anything.
Audrey Stormfist	It doesn't take AUDREY STORMFIST long to appear, one presumes from a nearby Warpgate. We'll leave the details to your imagination. The KIRIN supervisor dons her typical dark blue reinforced military overcoat; gunblade sheathed to one side, sleek gauntlers on her hands, complete with a screen atop the hand.     She strides in calmly, alone for once; no drones, no henchmen. It might have been her lunch hour, who knows. But helping a member of her squad takes priority.     The fact the place is totally quiet doesn't take long to notice. "Rondel. I take it you murdered everyone here and need help hiding bodies?" That's humor. It's absolutely humor. Though, Audrey would help if she said yes.
Lyria Mason	Lyria Mason has been prone to exploring the multiverse for fun and extra creidt but it was nither of these things. She'd head tell of just what was up here nad had come to stick her nose into things here. She considerd Sanary a friend and he and she's comd to help, she'd not brought Remora as there'd been no time to get the grone but here she was. "Ahoy Sanary, just what has happened here?" She's looking at the silent place and it's dead save for Sanary and those just arriving.
Lute	Lute surfs into town, riding upon the back of Imima the I-Class Destroyer. His labcoat flutters in the wind as he surfs along, arms crossed in front of him. The moment he gets to the city, his face frowns. ...Empy, as Sanary said. He hasn't been to her village before. But... It has to be more populated than this. He spots her panicking.      He says nothing. Imima stops close to her. He lifts his arms to his side. From his sleeves and under the back of his labcoat, a mass of Unown start flying out. They take off into the sky, forming a grid above the city to watch. Those on the outside of the grid start flying away from the village in all directions, their singular eyes looking down towarsd the ground. Lute will be alerted if any movement is seen.      He'd say something, but he doesn't want to put too much stress on Sanary all at once.
Kyra Hyral	Fortunately for Sanary, Kyra DID happen to be near a warp gate at the time Sanary's panicked-sounding request for help filtered over the Broadband.     From the warp gate Kyra emerges, riding astride her (rather basic model) yellow-feathered chocobo summon matrix. The big yellow-feathered riding bird looks real enough until Kyra dismounts, upon which it becomes incorpreal and disappears in a shimmer of green sparkles as Kyra walks away from it. She doesn't even bother looking it back or attempting to secure the animal in those brief moments she has no contact with it. Nor does the chocobo seem to react to the scents of animals or fresh blood on the ground.     "Whoah, uh." Kyra pulls a pair of riding goggles she had over her eyes down, letting them rest around her neck. "Where is everybody?" She turns around in place, looking at the blood on the ground, then back up to Sanary, "...where are the bodies?"     Kyra laughs perhaps a little /too/ loudly at Audrey's joke. "Clearly she already moved them. Okay, so I take this isn't normal?"
Archer	How long had it been since he'd been able to truly /feel/ anything to scenes like this besides hollow remorse?     At one point, there had been a time when scenes like this had enraged him - filled him with not just sadness... but with a desire to put it /right/. To fix what had been broken - give back what was lost.     A desire to do something about those who had lost to an endless hell... once supported by the idea that, if he worked hard enough, he could actually succeed in saving someone. Anyone.     But now... after so long seeing the worst of humanity, hardened by tragedy after endless tragedy... the only thing Archer could feel now was that scenes like this were simply unavoidable. The moment someone turned their back to it, the chaos that was cleared would resurge and consume all that was built - it was like fighting the tides of the ocean and thinking a paltry moat in the sand would do anything to stop it.     Once, he'd believed scenes like this could be prevented... but now, he just saw it as yet another senseless act of bloodshed in the ever-increasingly senseless history of humankind.     Like the kunoichi, Archer appears upon the rooftops adjacent, though he simply seems to materialize out of thin air as he leaves his spirit-form, arms crossed and face impassive as he looks at the scene - spilt blood, shredded clothes and broken weapons, the latter being of lackluster quality with which to defend a village.     Seeing a few familiar faces, he decides to comment to one - Audrey Stormfist - as Archer decides to add his own comment of fatalistic humor, though he does not smile as he usually would for such things; "Considering there are no visible bodies, it would probably be the weapon she is digging a hole to bury at this point." Like Audrey, it's black humor... though given the status between Archer and Sanary, he knows he will likely get a bad reaction.     After all, most people tended to hold a grudge when a person they helped twice over put a sword through their back without flinching. Still... an entire town vanishing wasn't exactly something to take lightly - not after what he'd seen in Hyrule. Rin agreed on that much as well, hence why she'd let him go.      And so here he would be to help... regardless of if Sanary wanted him to or not. If she couldn't get past her grudge for the sake of whoever might still be alive... that would be her issue.
Yari Takane	A noisy pig-farm village made quiet. Too quiet. Yari walks out of the warpgate, dressed in a red-and-white kimono, seemingly unarmed. Knowing her, that's not likely the case. The kunoichi seems on edge, tail flicking behind her as she walks towards the village square. Empty. Utterly empty. And worst still, there's broken weapons and blood. Yari makes several handseals, and then she's moving, leaping from rooftop to rooftop as she makes her way to the coordinates given to her. In all likelyhood, it'll have her landing atop the rooftop of where Sanary's digging. Her presence is only heralded by her voice after her silent landing. "...Sanary. What happened here?" Her voice is tight, but she seems calm, though the worry in her eyes is plain if Sanary looks up. She keeps her hand in her kimono, clutching a trio of kunai as she gazes about, activating her magitek armlet's aetheric scanner. Those arriving, Unionites and Confederates alike, get her gaze, but she doesn't seem to be attacking anyone. From the sounds of things, they might all be on the same page. Otherwise, she's on lookout.
Yari Takane	Archer's sudden appearance, and then his comments to Sanary, have Yari scowling and glaring over to Archer. "...She'd not be the type to do something like that. Not without good reasons. So I'll be expecting you keep your tongue around her, if you please." Comes the kunoichi, part of her gaze never quite leaving the man distrustfully. Her dislike is almost instant.
Septette Arcubielle	In an ordinary village, Septette would almost blend in: she's just a cheery, dark-haired young woman wrapped in a well-worn cloak and wearing cozy-looking earmuffs at present. But in a ghost town like this, anything moving will stand out; the others here will almost certainly see her before she sees them. The robot was expecting to have to pass for normal around sheltered villagers today, but her plans of light-hearted porcine bloodletting have already been ruined.      Eventually she wanders over to Ms. Rondel and those already gathered, too late to join in the first round of questions being piled on the nervous healer, but swiftly enough that her keen electronic ears are able to pick up the distant conversation even through the concealing earmuffs. There are a couple of faces familiar to her here, and more that she wouldn't recognize; she greets the former with an incongruously cheery smile and the latter with serene equanimity. "I do hope it's alright for me to be here," she finally says in a questioning tone. "But you did say 'anyone'... and seeing this, I'm glad you did."
Sanary Rondel	"I wish." Even with as stressed as Sanary looks, she still manages an awkward laugh at Audrey's joke while checking underneath a storefront table (that promptly collapses on itself after she lets go). She looks up at Yari as she wipes her hands off, clearly forcing a grin despite everything. "Hey, Yari.. Ah. N-no, Audrey. No, this is.. Uh. This is my home. And everyone's... Missing."      Turning to Lyria and Kyra, Sanary throws her hands up in that universal sign of I-dunno. "No clue. Was just gonna check in on everyone and... This." She waves around a few times before rubbing her forehead, a thoughtful look given to the Unown and Lute further above. "H-hey, can you see anything from up there? Any people or any trials or... Whatever?"      Needless to say, she's sounding much less lighthearted than she usually would. Archer's appearance and attempt at humor gets a significantly darker glare from the healer, but it's tempered considerably by that reaction from Yari and Septette's own appearance. Not that she really recognizes the latter, but still. At least she's not freaking out over her mostly humanoid, yet somewhat inhuman appearance.      "It's fine. Glad to hear you think I can handle this many people, at least... A-anyway. It's fine, miss. Just need to figure out where to... How they..." She starts muttering to herself while pacing around and kicking at random piles of dirt. From the looks of it, she probably won't be very helpful in looking for any actual clues of what happened.
Sanary Rondel	From above, Lute can see that there's quite a few fresh mounds of dirt surrounding the village. Perhaps they've been disturbed recently? There's also several trails of footprints going both towards and away the village itself, although they do not appear to be coming from any specific direction as they're simply coming from everywhere with the village itself as the focal point. Those on the ground might even be able to see that there's blood following several of those trails, and footprints left by both bare and covered feet.
Lute	Lute is wordless as he commands the Unown. He really only needs to think what he wants, and they'll do it. Not all of them are going down, but about half of them are. They're moving to the mounds of dirt, getting close enough to examine it in more detail.      Lute doesn't even look at the others. It takes too much concentration to see through ihs Pokemon. He can at least respond a bit, though. "I see mounds of dirt. Tracks... All around the village. The mounds and tracks should be investigated."      A frown. His eyes are closed. "...Sanary... Just. Don't get your hopes up too much. Okay? ...I'll be there for you no matter what, at least."
Audrey Stormfist	Audrey frowns.     "Rondel is a mature woman. She can handle a joking jab, and if she could not, you would not be doing her any favors shielding her, Takane. Avoid threatening a man who will be an invaluable ally here."     The Heritor glances towards Kyra, then back at Sanary, then back around the village. What a sudden crowd.     "I take it no one here owned a radio or could have put out anything resembling a distress call?" Obviously not, but if even a single person had a phone, they could try finding it. Mounds and tracks, though. "Very well, let's go dig then." Audrey produces a shovel out of a pocket; god bless RPG inventory systems. And she heads off, in the direction specified by Lute. To, well, do the obvious. No use wasting time.
Lyria Mason	Lyria Mason looks over to Kyra for a moment giving her friend a look, before she swings her attention back to see Lute and his strange creatures. She eyes the Unown for a moment but if Lute is herre t help Sanary for whatever reason she'll be wary of someone so dangerous but not be an ingrate over the help. Given his partner monster they can cover a lot of ground. "So so this is ... quite the thing I'm going to get Archer gets a long look from Lyria but she's clearly getting ready to work. Audrey gets a bit of a nod and notice while she makes note of Septette, if this was not so grim/ She's now gtting ready to look around to see what she could find. Shes' got the idea they need to dig. "Dig humm I can handle that." She'll attempt to use her own geomaney to aid the digging efforts.
Archer	Seeing the kunoichi defending Sanary, Archer actually tilts his head at her. "So you admit she'd be capable of doing something like this with the 'right' reasons?" There's a slight touch of mockery in his voice, but his voice is still impassive. "I'll keep that in mind."     At the same time though... the look in the Servant's eyes seems to shift a bit when hearing that this place was Sanary Rondel's hometown.     Someone else who had lost their past lives to the curse of war...     Of course, given Sanary's profession, it was likely balanced out by the acts she had committed in her time. Events in Hyrule had proven that, hadn't they.     However, he doesn't bring this up - its not relevant to the situation... and besides, it would be hypocrisy to chastise her when he himself had knowingly done worse for the 'sake of humanity.'     Closing his eyes, the Bowman's arms drop to his sides, his expression one of focused concentration.      "Trace; On."      Reaching out with Structural Grasp magic, Archer attempts to analyze the site of the battle - what caused damage here, what was knocked down there, how long it's been since the area was disturbed, what trails or patterns were left in the ground, how much harm was inflected on the nearby buildings, etc.     He rather quickly starts putting something of a composite together, working off the information Lute provides as well to build a basic theory - "It seems that most of the trails around the village were caused by large amounts of people fleeing in all directions; the villagers I'm guessing." He closes his eyes, arms still crossed in contemplation as he bluntly lays out his belief - "In other words... this wasn't an outside attack - something took place inside the village itself. That or a threat simply spontaneously appeared inside of the town and the villagers fled to get away from it. Also..." he opens his eyes again, gazing beyond the village borders to where Lute's... strange creatures - familiars? - had pin-pointed disturbances. "It seems there are a number of freshly-made mounds of dirt around this village. If I were to guess... they're makeshift graves. And judging from the fact that many of these blood-trails go in the same direction as the footprints left by the fleeing villagers, I think it's safe to assume a good number of the people here are already dead."     He doesn't bother to be gentle with his explanations - it won't help her to withhold the truth. Besides... this was her home, so she deserved to know up-front what the odds were. Regardless of how grim.
Kyra Hyral	As Kyra looks at the blood splotches, she starts to follow the trails left behind, seeing the bare footprints made of more blood and gradually feeling more uneasy. Her unease, however, is not relfected in her face if only because it's mostly concealed by the hang of her hood. She follows this trail for a few feed before stiffening at what Lute has seen through his HORRIBLE, ELDRICH ABOMINATIONS.     "Dirt mounds?" she questions aloud, starting to follow after Audrey. Kyra's more than careful to be /behind/ the Heritor because she definitely does not want Audrey behind her.     The white mage pauses as she overhears Archer muttering words she more commonly associates with another acquaintance of hers: Shirou. She stares at Archer for a very long time before speaking up. "Sounds about right. Looks like there was a fight here and everyone...fled."     She would have used more blunt wording on that had she not just learned that this was /Sanary's/ village. She likes Sanary enough that she'll afford the healer some tact.
Septette Arcubielle	Arcubielle has seen plenty enough bloodshed to know what shock looks like. She won't be getting much more useful information out of Sanary right now, and can listen in for handy tidbits from a fair distance anyway. From here, she can't quite see the piles freshly-disturbed earth, but has a good view of the bloodstained tracks moving into and out of the village. The most likely explanation is that an overwhelming attacking force moved in, killed or captured the villagers, and then left with the captives and/or corpses.      By the looks of the skirmish's aftermath, it seems that more than a few of the villagers must have died. But then, why would the attackers steal the corpses? Why even bother burying them? Something of this magnitude can't be covered up that easily. It doesn't seem likely that most of the villagers fled, either; by now some of them would have either returned to the village or sought shelter at the next closest settlement.      All of these thoughts flash through her mind almost simultaneously. A few fractions of a second later, Septette takes a pinch of dirt and examines it. This is good: loose, freshly disturbed, and it apparently hasn't rained since the incident.      "It shouldn't be too hard to calculate how many survivors there were. Nobody left here without leaving footprints. Subtract the net number of pre-bloodshed sets of footprints leaving the village from the number of villagers, then subtract the number of recent distinct sets of post-bloodshed footprints leaving the village from *that*. Then we've got the number of villagers who left here on their own power, since the method automatically corrects for the invaders' footprints. After all, the dead don't walk."      If only she knew.      Septette concentrates and takes a 'breath', her hollow metal ribcage expanding under her cloak in a mimicry of inhalation. Then a trio of small, round magitech drones pop into existence around her: red, yellow, and blue, seemingly equipped with only light armor and some basic optical sensors. They set out following the footprints to their destinations at around the same time that the others reach a similar conclusion.
Yari Takane	Yari sighs, putting her attention first to Sanary. She leaps down, noting that forced grin, and how she mutters and paces and kicks. She'll reach out and grab Sanary's shoulder, squeezing just enough to get her attention. "Focus. We'll find who did this. But you know this village best. Who would want to do this? Does this town or its Lords have any enemies?" She asks of the girl, quickly glancing to the others. She trusts Lute, at least, to investigate. She'll have to keep guard with Sanary and try to get her to drag herself back to her senses. When Lute speaks, she nods, mirroring the man's thoughts. Yari has to resist the urge to snap at Audrey. Some part of her knows the woman's right. But it still infuriates her. She closes her eyes, casts Audrey one final glare, and then she's back over to Archer. No, now's not the time to rise to his taunts. No, she instead lets those more easily capable of investigating the area get to work. "If all that's the case, we should probably follow after them. I don't want to leave a threat like that living to try and slaughter more villages. Besides, we need to gain justice for the village here." She offers to the group, finally. Ultimately, however, she's looking to Lute, and above all, Sanary. "It's your village Sanary, and your choice."
Sanary Rondel	DIRT MOUNDS: Freshly disturbed ground! Some of them look as if they've been packed in recently, and others appear as if something had tried to break through from underneath. It's fairly easy to dig up those mounds, though, and the geomancy aids in the process considerably. Digging up those mounds, leads to a grisly discovery: Corpses! Fresh ones, with various bite marks scattered about their bodies. From the looks of it, they've been dead for a while, and there's also looks of absolute terror on the ones with intact faces, which is... Quite a few of them, actually. Their fingertips would also be quite bloody, indicating that they might not have even been killed before being buried. VILLAGE GROUNDS: There's definitely been a huge struggle here. None of the damaged objects (tables, doors, houses) look as if they were cut through with any sort of weapons. Rather, they appear to have been smashed, whether by direct force or by sheer accident. The construction of just about everything in the town is rather shoddy to begin with, though, so it may not be entirely clear how much force was even used in the first place. Almost all of the damage is purely physical, although there's some signs that dark magic has been used as well. Strangely enough, the magical residue is concentrated away from the buildings themselves, and mostly around where there's tatters of distinctly dark-dyed clothing. TRAILS: At a glance, it's hard to tell how many trails there even are. A multitude of bare and covered footsteps moving towards the village, turning into a complete mess the closer they get to the center of the town. Whatever it was that moved into the village, it clearly threw the villagers into a panic. The footsteps leading directly to the mounds, meanwhile, look as if people were dragged to them with quite a bit of resistance from hitting their feet on the ground. There's also some similar dragging trails leading out of the village, although there's significantly fewer than the total amount coming inside.
Sanary Rondel	"... I-I know. But they'll be fine. It's.. It's usually fine. We've had worse here. It's fine." That's a lie. Still, it's keeping Sanary from freaking out even more than necessary. She laughs again and crosses her arms, taking a deep breath before glancing over at Audrey with a brief smirk.      "To be fair, the guy did stab me. But if he can help.." She trails off as that smirk fades, looking shaken again even with Yari offering that support to her. "... I appreciate it." She reaches over to pat Yari's hand lightly, still keeping an eye (technically, the only one) on Archer just in case. Even if she does appreciate the assistance, getting stabbed does make it harder to keep one's back turned to the stabber.      Both of Archer's theories don't seem to sit well with the healer in either event, but she's making an effort not to let it get to her! Sort of. She's not lashing out or anything, but she is hunching over slowly as the worst case scenarios just keep popping into her head. "They... They probably just ran, yeah. I-I mean, there's... Not gonna lie and say nobody died, but... They're tougher than that. But... Yeah, if we can figure out where they went, then we should be able to get most of 'em back."      She's definitely not taking it well at all. Denial's fun, though!
Audrey Stormfist	Well, that's bodies alright. And honestly, Archer might have hit the nail on the head. Audrey doesn't bother digging up more than one body (unless they're burried in clusters instead of individually), and doesn't take long to draw her own conclusions.     "When was the last time you were here?" she asks towards Sanary, since that is somewhat important information. "These aren't old, but they're not recent either. A day or three maybe. A week? But not too much more. We've obviously missed something big, and something that was trying to bite the villagers no less. Zombies, vampires, werewolves, assorted flesh-eating monsters, your guess is as good as mine, lacking deep knowledge of your world's threats."     She motions for Kyra to take a closer look.     "Hyral, you're the doctor. Take a look."
Lancer of Black	The village is like a thousand others he has seen in his life. A small place, out-of-the-way, rural in every sense of the word. The smell of pig, the stink of chicken - familiar smells that never seem to change, no matter where the tall, pale, pale-haired Servant has been. There are always places like this, run-down little places other people imagine Time forgot, but which Lancer has always felt Time loved particularly well. To preserve something requires love, after all, not apathy.      And this village was preserved, until something in black came through it. Perhaps it was one person, perhaps it was more. Lancer of Black is off near the village edge, examining the tattered remains of some of the black cloth, with more than a little curiousity writ on his handsome, aristocratic face. He takes the cloth between his fingers, as if he might feel something, then releases it, pushing himself up on his spear. He dusts himself off imperiously, slings the spear back over his shoulder, and moves towards the rest of the group. His Master appears not to be with him today, for reasons known only to Lancer.      The handsome gentlemen casts his eye at the rest of the group. Immediately, he identifies them as not wearing black, with nothing noticably torn.      That makes up his mind almost immediately.      "The Lord God bless you this day," he offers politely, his Romanian accent *incredibly* strong, "I assume by your clothing that you are not responsible for the state of this village."
Lute	Lute's already imagining the worst. Sanary has told him small details of her land. Cultists are a major problem. At the moment, his main theory is some sort of murder ritual. Or... Magic is a thing. Something supernatural? The mounds... He's actually glad they aren't in a perfect circle. If they were, it'd be /certain/ they were used for magical rituals. He thinks back, remembering alchemy rituals. His Unown also investigate as mounds are dug up. He bites his lips... And then leaps off of Imima.      He walks towards Sanary. In a situation like this, there is only one thing he can do for now. His arms wrap around her, in a hug. He closes his eyes, holding her close.      "...Sanary. I'm sorry."      Imima, meanwhile, stands guard. Sure, it seems like the enemy is long gone. But, Lute does /not/ trust the Union people present, at all.
Kyra Hyral	Following along, Kyra casts her gaze elsewhere, occasionally sending out a Scan spell of their surroundings. Such a spell would pick up the presence of other people (and helpfully give their stats) should any actually be nearby. Monsters, too, would register on the Scan spell were any around.     "Hmm. These have been dead for a while now, though not so long enough that decomposition has finished its work. Bite marks-animal maybe? I can't really tell. They seem small."     From one of the pouches at her waist, Kyra removes a set of latex gloves and puts them over her hands. She crouches down over one of the bodies that Audrey has helpfully exhumed. With her hand, she examines one of the hands of the corpses, noting the blood.     "...I think.." she says slowly, quietly, "...I think these people were buried alive." She leans forward to examine a bitemark more carefully. Size and shape of the teeth marks should give a good idea of what might have been doing the biting.
Archer	Archer raises a brow at the sight of the strange... machine entity that stands within their midst in a lavender cloak. He keeps his surprise at what seems to be a mechanical homunculus more subdued - a feat that is becoming ever-more easier as spends increasingly more time in the Multiverse - and instead focuses on her report; "Calculate for blood-loss while you're at it" Archer interjects. "If some of them were injured yet could move if forced, there's a chance some of those who fled may have perish in flight from their wounds. Also, if you can, see if you can find out how severe the injuries were based on the size of the blood-stains... and how quickly the rate of potentially fatal infections might be depending on the estimated size of the wound."     The way he speaks - calmly and emotionlessly - may be seen by some as rude in the face of how close a connection Sanary had with these people... but the Red Knight is more focused on helping her determine the fate of those people, not on what her opinion of that help is. "If I were to guess, the graves would be those who stayed to fight whatever appeared in the village, while anyone else that would not or could not combat the threat took the opportunity to run. "     Archer pauses, taking a short breath as he traces through the other details he can discern about the village. "Also... it seems most of the damage to this place was done by blunt force trauma... and that..." he takes a breath before saying the next line, even his demeanor unable to just jump right into this without letting Sanary have a moment to steel herself. "It seems that some of trails where people were drug over to those mounds... have signs of persistent struggle."      "In other words... if those mounds out there are actually graves... then not all of the bodies in them were dead when they were drug out there. Though I suppose we'll have to wait until the others return to find out if it was the attackers burying their dead or not, as I know no reason for why anyone would bury the dead of a village they attacked."     At that though... Archer casts a glance to another, odd character, who was examining the fabric left scattered across the land, all of which had traces of Dark Magic.     A fellow Heroic Spirit - his prana-levek couldn't let him be anything else. He was clad in black with long platinum blonde-white hair in what looked almost like Gothic-Romanian... if not outright Transylvanian, like something out of one of Bram Stoker's novels.     A Romanian Hero then? That narrowed the field... but there were still quite a few options to choose from in discerning an identity... and while there /was/ a very likely candidate, Archer opted to wait until he was /sure/ before betting on it being who he thought it was.     While instantly weary of the man, Archer opts to treat him the same as any other ally in a mission. "Given your words and how you were studying those rags, I assume you're saying that the black clothing here belonged to the attackers? If so..." he glances between the Servant and Sanary, asking them both this question. "what would that point to? Cultists? Or shrouds to attack in the cover of night with? Anything that can help us locate or identify them?"
Sanary Rondel	Sanary shakes her head at Yari's questions, patting her hand again while trying to sort out her thoughts some. "No... /New/ enemies that I know of. Just the usual. Bandits, Grimleal, sometimes getting caught up in border fights with Ylisse. Nothing like..." She struggles to speak. "... This."
Yari Takane	Yari frowns as she peers at her armlet. Aether, and corrupted aether at that seem to linger aorund those scraps of dark clothing. "...There might have been some kind of aetheric ritual performed here. I don't like this signature." It reminds her of the kind of thing Primal worshippers might get up to. The hunching form of Sanary isn't helping matters. She's close to breaking, and even Yari fears she can do little other than help investigate. Her tail latches to an arm of the poor woman, nodding, but falls silent. Particularly as Lancer arrives in his tattered /black/ clothing, and speaks to them all. Yari takes a step in front of Sanary protectively, and her eyes narrow. Immediately she thumbs her magitek armlet, trying to scan the man in black, versus the aetheric signatures on those pieces of cloth. The results put her on edge, but they're not conclusive. "...I don't mean to be rude, but I'd turn that same question on you, Sir. Someone with that much aether in tattered black clothing is a bit suspicious right now, don't you agree?" She offers probingly. "Though it'd be pretty daring to just return to the scene of the crime like that. I'll assume you're innocent for now, we could use the help of someone like you. Whatever /is/ responsible for this might still be out there." Yari then nods to Sanary. "This definitely isn't bandit's work."
Lyria Mason	Lyria Mason frowns at Sanary for a moment she knows it's a lie but she also know it's helping to keep Sanary from being in a blubbering heap so she does not press on it. She does however pause for a moment as she looks concerned about what she was feeling. "Something isn't right about the ground here I don't know what but it does not feel right." She's on edge and she's snapped open the flaps on both of her holster's just to be on the safe side. "Sanary can you think of anything else are there any old myths of legends about hostile creatures...in this region?"
Sanary Rondel	Sanary starts pacing at this point, fighting the urge to just look at those bodies directly. She's definitely not in the right state of mind to be doing that yet, but she can't just /not/ know. "About a... Week by now. I usually come by every week or two, so..." The eyepatched healer trails off, checking the entrance to her house again. Sure, she's checked it about five times by now, but maybe the sixth time will turn up something different!      Oddly enough, the pigs seem to be just as relaxed as they've always been, at least, and there's no sign that anyone even attempted to get into that pen nor any of the other pens in the entire village.      Turning to Lancer, Sanary manages the barest of awkward smirks before shaking her head. "Nah, they... We already did that gag a... Before ago." She doesn't stop pacing until after nearly walking into Lute's hug, still moving her feet for a few moments as if there's a disconnect between her brain and the rest of her body. "Eh? It's.. It's fine. They... Okay, /some/ of the villagers might be dead, but not all of 'em, right?"      Her expression only droops further when Kyra mentions the possibility of people being buried alive, and Archer's words only seem to confirm that. "... Shit. Uh. A-are there any big trails we can follow? We gotta.. We need to find whoever's left. And the ones that did this." She actually doesn't seem too bothered by his analysis of it, although that could be from being tempered by simply hearing it from Kyra first. The hug from Lute and the reassurance from Yari putting her tail on her arm certainly helps to keep her from just snapping on the spot, and she does manage the slightest smile at that.      "Black clothes...? Wait. That's... No. The Grimleal couldn't have done this, could they?" On the plus side, Sanary's anxiety seems to be fading mildly finally. On the other hand, it seems to just be getting replaced in to anger and rage as she starts clenching her hands tightly. "They wouldn't... This place loved 'em. But if they did..."
Sanary Rondel	BODIES: Lots of bites! Some of them look as if they were made with human-sized teeth, but others don't look like they came from humans at all. Dogs, perhaps, or wolves. Some of the bodies even look as if they've been forced in while still struggling. SCANNING: At first, there doesn't appear to be anyone coming or leaving the village. Whoever did this appears to have left already, but after a few moments, something's detected! Several somethings, even, springing out of the ground further away from the village.      As time passes, zombies, skeletons, and even zombified dogs and wolves start coming out of the woodwork, all coming towards the village. There's way more of them than would make sense based on the size of the village itself. There's even some coming out of the untouched graves and within the village itself, breaking down doors and bursting out of the very ground. Apparently, the village itself might have even been built on top of a graveyard with the sheer number of undead coming out!
Septette Arcubielle	"Trust" is a word that does not easily reach Septette's lips. As a somewhat-paranoid veteran, she reciprocates Lute's wariness wholeheartedly. She wouldn't antagonize the others here- not at a time like this, anyway- but stays on her metaphorical toes nonetheless. This is far too costly and elaborate to be a Confederate trap, she reasons, but predatory opportunism or emotional overreactions could still come into play. Sympathy is not sufficient reason for her to lower her guard.      "I'm very happy with my wardrobe choices today," she remarks half-jokingly. That cloak of hers certainly has tattered edges, but it's not remotely the same shade as the scraps lying around here. Archer's request earns him a disapproving glance from the robot girl: "I'm not your computer, sir," she answers coolly and with just a hint of exasperation. It seems that his is an assumption she's dealt with many times before.      "If I were smart enough to account for varying soil porosity, blood loss sorted by types and DNA signatures, cellular decay and trace pathogens, plus splatter trajectories and injury etiologies... I certainly wouldn't need you to remind me to do so."      A second familiar voice prompts her to turn around and incline her head slightly. "Mister Lancer. Pleased to-- ...One moment." One of the drones has gotten enough altitude to quickly spot the incoming horde of undead monsters. As soon as it does, the other two shift tactics. One tries to ascertain all of the locations within the village where they're coming from, while the other tries to assess the topology and surviving architecture of the village for tactically advantageous positions.      Meanwhile, the robot girl herself immediately takes on a more monstrous appearance: her 'eyes' brighten beyond their normal subtle glow, she takes off the cloak to reveal an angular and skeletal metal form beneath, and a pair of red-hot curved blades unfold from her forearms. Discarding any inflection or emotional tone in favor of speed and clarity, she announces for the others: "Magically-animated corpses incoming, all directions including from within the village. Human and canine primarily; possibly former villagers with them." And then all hell breaks loose.
Lancer of Black	"It is a logical assumption, isn't it?" Lancer inquires of Archer, "I admit that it is only a hypothesis, and science demands far more rigorous testing than that, but at the moment it is all I have to work with. If I knew the purpose, it might help, but..."      He shrugs.      Yari gets a look from the handsome face that might be scorn or it might be pity. "If you already suspect me, then there is little I can say that would prove my innocence," Lancer points out.      He resumes looking at the various bits of damage until the undead start to rise. Lancer's eyebrow rises into his pale hair. The walking dead. Monsters of fantasy fiction given life before him. Abominations unto God Almighty, dragged forth from their restful slumber to serve some ill will. His knuckles turn from pale to alabaster around the spear as righteous anger fills him. What was it about his adventures here among the celestial infinity that kept showing him his own life? First, the village, tortured by bloated and corrupted nobles. Now, this village, full of abominations unto God. Was the vast infinity of infinities mocking him, personally? It would seem coherent with his eternal lot in life.      Lancer strides forward, spinning the spear off his back. It is in all ways a normal spear - there is nothing magical about it. But it is being wielded by someone whose agility, strength, and stamina all far surpass that of a human being. Even the most pathetic Servant still far outstrips a human, and Lancer is far from the most pathetic of Servants.      Lancer lunges forward. The spear jams through the head of a zombie, explosively, carrying through to pin the next one to the ground. In the process of the motion, the Servant springs forward, like a pole vaulter, carrying himself onto - and crushing - the next monster in line.      "Disgusting," Lancer observes, bringing the butt of the weapon around to crush a skeleton's skull, "Absolutely disgusting."
Kyra Hyral	"Hmm, there are human bitemarks here. Also looks like there are canine bitemarks..." she does also note the signs of struggle and makes a sick-looking face. "These people were still struggling when they were put in the grave."     Kyra withdraws from the corpse, idily wishing that Toph was here to instantly cover the body they exhumed. "Now I could make several assumptions about human bitemarks on human corpses but..."     Her thoughts are interrupted by something she had suspected, punctuated more urgently by Septette's switch into Aggressive Mode. "Undead, great. Alright, time for buffs everyone!"     As Kyra speaks, she draws one of her guns-an ornate-looking pistol known as the Luna's Resolve. It's a non-Galiandan, mechanical gun, which will not lightly consume MP as she uses it. The other hand flicks outward, white magic shimmering down her arm as she promptly begins spamming Protect on everyone in reach. She's indescriminate in her targeting at the moment, meaning that /even Audrey and Lute/ will be gifted with the first round of spells. Sanary forms the third before Kyra moves on to cover the others one by one. The Servants are targeted last since Kyra already knows that they're tough enough to handle being unbuffed for a few minutes.
Yari Takane	Yari's eyes glance over to Septette, flinching as she spies the form underneath. An advanced magitek weapon!? Such a thing with sentience puts her further on edge, but it's something she welcomes this time. After all, there's a /zombie army/ approaching. But she has enough good sense to respond to Lancer. "Then we'll just have to let your actions speak for you." She ends, before her attention is on the encroaching army. A glance back to Sanary. "Forget these 'Grimleal' for now. We'll look into them after this is over with." She motions towards that oncoming zombie apocalypse that threatens enemy and ally alike. She's quick to snag some of that black cloth, wrapping it up for later analysis back at the Citadel. Then she finally draws her kunai, and flicks them in a wide area after leaping from the ground, then up towards the sky. A good dozen kunai turn into several times that, ending in a well-spaced pattern into the...ground? It might make sense after one notes all of the grenades attached to each one after her Fuma Shuriken attack. She lands atop a roof, with a detonator in hand. Only once the zombies get close and those like Lancer rushing off are clear does she start blowing them, making a makeshift minefield for the village. Otherwise she's content to bide her time, even as Kyra lays out protective spells upon her. She feels a little more resiliant, but isn't going to immediately rush in without a good lay of exactly how many foes they're dealing with. Oh, and she wants a good vantage point to not blow her allies up, either.
Audrey Stormfist	Many things are coming to light.     Audrey is not a doctor, or a practiced investigator, though. She leaves that to the experts, and braces when the dead rise from their-- well, graves, and assorted offscreen dwellings. That sure is a lot of zombies, skeletons, even wolves now? What a mess. It doesn't answer anything, though. The villagers ran AWAY from the village. If undead forces came from outside, they would have holed up in the village instead.     Also, the undead don't bury their prey.     Blessed with Protect, Audrey moves to Kyra's side, doing her job almost automatically. She doesn't like debts, so she immediatly moves to repay it. Her fists shine with bright white light, imbued with the holy element. She doesn't leave the White Mage's side; rather, whenever one comes too close to her, the Heritor surges forward, using the Monk technique EXORCISE to reduce them to dust with a single, holy-infused punch.     "Something does not make sense, no matter how I look at it," she asides. "Why bury the bodies? At all? One who utilizes the undead as minions has no advantage in doing that. Nor does one who requires sacrifices for a ritual. They obviously didn't care to clean the village up or remove all traces of their passing, so what was the point?"     POINTLESS DETAILS, AWAAAAY.
Lyria Mason	Lyria Mason i:Says "Black clothing that's a bit on the creepy side nd that's not making me feel any better to be honest." It doesn't take long for the dead to rise and that's a level of horror for Lyria she's not really had before. Undead exist on Galendia but they are creatures who always /were/ undead anbd were not things that were alive to start with. She does go for her pistols sets the elemental form to fire and startst o open up. "I TAKE IT THIS IS NOT NORMAL FOR THIS WORLD?!" she's also starting to move about bouncing about, flipping and other3wise moving trying to keep out of harms way. "Who would do something like this?!"
Archer	"I'm not reminding you - I was simply asking if it /was/ possible for you to do, then. That would have helped us determine how many survivors might be left out of those that fled" Archer's reply is short, but devoid of malice - he doesn't seem to begrudge the machine's response, and he takes the time to clarify he did not assume her to be a simple machine.     After all... a homunculus was not just a simple 'artificial human'. Why wouldn't that same rule apply for machines as well?      "You would be surprised what a culture could do to it's followers" Archer replied, traces of scorn leaking into his voice as he spoke to Sanary, arms crossing over his chest again while the pieces of what happened here seemed to start fitting together. "Especially if they're devout. Willing candidates are always welcome if they have a slaughterhouse that needs raw grist for it's mills-"     Suddenly, his eyes snap open, a sharp hiss of breath being drawn through his teeth.     Something disturbingly similar to the magic he had seen utilized by the mage Lezard Valeth... and similar to something else from his own world.      "Trace; On"     A flare of prana fills Archer's right hand, his western-style black bow materializing in his hand. Depending on how much of the world Lancer has seen, he may recognize the style of the bow and the technique behind it's use. He doesn't seem too surprised by Septette's transformation, though - thanks to Structural Analysis, he was able to 'see' what her form was under that cloak... still, the sight is interesting to say the least, and intimidating if nothing else.     Sadly, Archer very much doubted what was coming had the ability to feel fear anymore. After all, what did the Dead have to fear?     Drawing back the bowstring, Archer began to fire arrows at the hoards of approaching creatures, his perception and speed allowing him to surpass the boundary known as 'human limitation' to fire nearly a dozen prana-infused arrows in the breath of a few seconds, each one exploding with the force of a small grenade to down a slew of the nightmarish invaders.     Seeing the Servant - obviously a Lancer it seemed, which made the Bowman's suspicions grow on who the Romanian Hero was - Archer was still given pause by how the weapon he wielded had no true history.     A placeholder? Was he protecting his identity, as Saber did with Invisible Air... or did he simply not see these creatures as worth using his weapon on? Or perhaps it was both.     Regardless, his skill with it was impressive to say the least. Perhaps equal to Cú Chulainn.     As such, Archer was content to let him handle the front lines while the bowman rained shot after shot on the hoards of creatures... though that didn't mean he wouldn't keep an eye on him.     It never hurt to be cautious after all.
Lute	Lute has his priorities together. He actually won't plan on 'patching in' with Sepette. He doesn't trust someone toying around in his brain like that. It's something he has had a history with. He already has enough people toying around inside his brain as is.      And, speaking of which? His Other Side has come out. His eyes have turned determined. He grabs ahold of Sanary, pulling her away from the building. Priority one: Protect Sanary. Priority two: Destroy the zombies. Priority three: Destroy the buildings, burn the land to the ground, and get rid of the impurifications in the land.      Thankfully, Archer volunteered for three. The more 'serious' side of Lute views stopping the spread of the zombies more than he cares whether it pisses Sanary off. The other side, the normal side, hates the serious side for this.      But at least the serious side is pulling Sanary away.      "GO. ARCANINE! REGISTEEL! GIRATINA!"      Lute throws out Pokeballs, while keeping an arm wrapped around Sanary. His I-Class Destroyer blasts away at the zombies nearby. The other three form a simple defensive perimeter around Sanary. He is assuming she will not act well in regards to these beings.      Especially if she sees a familiar face.
Sanary Rondel	The zombies go down quite easily because... Well, they're zombies. They're physically strong and capable of doing quite a bit of damage, to be sure, but they lack the sort of coordination and dexterity that would make them a threat for an Elite on their own. Their deficiencies in strategy and technique, however, are made up somewhat by the sheer number of them. The dogs are certainly the fastest, but also the rarest among the undead, although they're also somewhat less sturdy and lacking in opposable thumbs compared to the bipedal undead.      As one zombie goes down, another comes up in its place along with another skeleton. Considering how the village is located on a border between two hostile nations, meanwhile, it's entirely possible the village itself was built on top of a battlefield turned burial ground.      Needless to say, there's going to be a lot of undead coming out as the minutes pass. How will the heroes and the barely-sometimes heroes get out of this mess?      Sanary, for her part, is looking positively enraged at this point. So much so that she's wading into the fray with her gunaxe drawn, lopping zombies and skeletons apart without a care as to her own personal safety. "This isn't... This isn't normal at all, no. I... Those fucking Grimleal are gonna pay for this!" The Protect spell helps keep her from getting bogged down by the numerous claws and teeth coming her way, and she's relying on that, her own healing magic, and raw anger to cleave through as many of the undead as she can. She does hesitate every now and then when she spots one in familiar clothing, but only for a moment before striking it down as well.      By the time she's pulled away, her armor is not in good shape at all, and Sanary's an enraged mess whiel she struggles to try and get out of that hold even as the undead continue to swarm into the village.
Septette Arcubielle	These creatures refuse to be intimidated by Septette's menacing appearance, and she returns the favor. There are very few things she has in common with the Risen, but one similarity would become plain to anyone keeping an eye on her: they share a frightening singlemindedness in battle. She scans for tactically advantageous positions nearby, then sprints down a small street with ruined houses on either side, clawed feet kicking up a backscatter of loose earth. One of the vanguard of the undead horde lunges at her, and it's here that she starts to really act strangely.      For the first fraction of a second, the mechanical soldier doesn't react at all, as if she were moving in biochemical time. She notes the look in the undead human's eyes, the trajectory of its lunge, the sharpened fingerbones cleaned of flesh that serve as its 'claws'. Any useful information she can glean from it is memorized. Then its claw grazes her cheek without leaving a scratch, and that's the trigger for her to tear into it with her searing-hot blades. Its arms and legs are cut off and spine severed before it can hit the ground; her foot punches through its ribcage and pulverizes its stilled heart, and she magically cauterizes its brain milliseconds before decapitating it. It isn't overkill: she just wants to note the exact injury that causes its 'death'.      Without pausing for an instant, she whirls to face the other beasts coming down the street with a serene smile on her face. This really is the yggdroid's element, and it shows: each of her blows neatly takes out one of the monsters, and she throws them almost faster than the eye can follow, never pausing in her lethal dance or slowing from fatigue. This isn't a battle for her. This is bliss, and each fresh encounter a trivial game to be solved.
Kyra Hyral	Kyra's fairly able to keep herself out of the clutches of grasping, zombie hands, mostly thanks to her gun. Anything that gets too close is simply blown away. Her movements keep her close to the likes of Sanary and Audrey for cover and distraction, enabling her to focus on providing further buffs for those fighting. Even Lancer and Archer eventually receive a Protect spell.     Once everyone is sufficiently given magical armor, she moves to mass Scan spells, relaying the data she sees to Septette. It all mostly tells the same story: tons and tons of weak zombies. They don't take much to kill one by one but the sheer numbers are making them dangerous. "There you go. Recommendation: mass area damage. Just so you know!"     Meanwhile, Kyra makes a run for the pigpen and hastily undoes whatever gates are present. "Go! Shoo!"
Yari Takane	Yari's eyes go wide, as the chatter on the radio hits her brain. As the group of zombies pours in, Yari detonates the grenades as the group gathers, keeping the perimeter clear at least. But there's far, far too many. She'd woefully underestimated the numbers. She quickly realizes any more traps are useless, and then she's right behind Lute and Sanary. Gritting her teeth, she makes handseals, offering a showering of magical water towards the village to ensure whatever backlash Archer is planning towards it won't hit Sanary and Lute...and perhaps, perhaps, save something of the village itself. Never before has she felt so torn, between loyalty to Sanary, and the realization that further taint could arise if this place is left uncleansed in some way. But isn't that too far!? When Sanary is cleaving through undead, Yari drops down beside her, slicing and dicing and leaping in her efforts to keep Sanary safe. But then Lute lifts her off, and Yari scowls. The pigs. It's a simple thing. But they're part of her village, part of Sanary's heritage. "...I won't this place be annihilated entirely!" She mutters, before she makes several handseals, pumping dangerous amounts of aether into her limbs. Her eyes and nose and mouth bleed from it all, but she doesn't care, rushing towards the village in a frankly inelegant and harried rush back towards it all, in order to outrace Archer's strike. Should any of his arrows start flying, she'll leap, duck, and take cover amongst buildings in order that she makes it over to the pigpens, and physical grabs one or two in her arm and tail. She balances a fat, porky porker on her neck! Then she slams a kunai down, and screams out, a tiny jolt of lightning meeting that muddy pig-pen just to encourage the rest to stampede out as she kicks open the pigpen. "Get out of here, you delicious porky residents! NOW!" She adds a lizardy menacing hiss, before trying to get out of dodge alive.
Archer	Hearing it on the radio... it made sense what had happened.     A curse. The village had a curse placed on it. And they probably triggered it when they entered.     Someone did all this as a trap. Buried countless corpses so as to ambush them -     Someone or something was trying to lure a person back here.      Lute explains the situation - that the area is cursed... and that he intended to cleanse it the only way he knew how.     That was a rhetorical reply, though. Archer knew from experience with the Dead and from the Dead Apostles... there was only /one/ way to cleanse something like this.     And it was for the best that it be done, so that these souls had some modicum of peace at the end... and it was for the best that someone Sanary Rondel already hated be the one to do this, so that she need not see a friend as a monster.      And so... Archer lept.     Prana flooding his legs, he bounded off the roof and up into the air - far enough so that he would not be caught in the blast - with energy condensing in one hand as the most-used distance-based destructive weapon he had materialized his fingers mid-jump.     The next moment, the spiral sword was knocked back on his bow, it's form twisting even further until it was a narrow bolt of silver, prana beginning to fill it's form while he aimed from above.     "/I am the bone of my sword./"     The air rippled as power surrounded Archer and flowed into the tip of the warped arrow, his gaze locked on the mound that was the center of the town as it was swarmed by the undead.     He sympathized with her - he truly did. Losing one's home was never an easy thing to bear, nor was it a burden that he would have wanted anyone to suffer... but it would not stay his hand. If Sanary Rondel cursed him for all eternity, so be it - she would not be the first, nor the last... and at the very least, all she cared for would at least have been laid to rest without further defilement.     It was for that reason that, when the arrow finally 'broke'-      "Caladbolg!"      - he released it without hesitation, the blade of the Ulster Cycle warping the air around it as the bullet of pure magical energy sped across the sky... and impacted in the heart of the village.     The moment that happened... there was nothing left. All of it - buildings, dirt hill, fences, rubble - was incinerated and obliterated in a rippling, expanding mass of energy, wiping Sanary Rondel's hometown from existence.     And as Archer landed, the force of the blast sending him flying backwards as he skidded several feet across the ground, he watched the smoke clear from the crater that had once been a village with eyes of cold steel.      Eyes that hid how, deep down the Servant of the Bow inwardly hoped that whoever lived here would find some semblance of peace now.
Lute	Lute's Pokemon keep up the defensive perimeter. Sanary is not taking this well. He knows it. He keeps his arms around her, holding her tight. His eyes close for a moment, viewing the entire battlefield through his Unown. There is a single bit of thought given towards them, and all of them fly back towards Lute. He loses his far sight. They instead merge with him, covering his body in unblinking eyes and darkness.      He's struggling to keep control from his 'dumber' half. Various stupid ideas are flying through the other half's head. Most of them revolve around ensuring Sanary remains happy, and sparing the village. Such is not a good idea, at the moment. Instead, he will go with the plan, and let Archer destroy the entire town.      With his increased strength, he is more of a match for Sanary's strength. He expects her to resist. He pulls her upon the back of Giratina, making sure she is steady. His Pokemon return to the Pokeballs upon his belt, and Imima climbs onto Giratina's back, as well. The giant ghost dragon flaps its wings, taking off to the sky.      This is just in time to get out of the range of Archer's attack.      "...Fucking Servants and their overkill."      Really? He's glad for it. A sigh of relief.
Lancer of Black	Kyra's buff settles on Lancer of Black like a fine mantle. The power increase is noted and noticeable; the skillful Lancer may not rely on taking hits but is perfectly fine with the extra shielding, and even incorporates it flawlessly into his routine. He dances into attacks he might otherwise have allowed to flow past him, crashes into claws and bites that bound off the Protect in order to stab through multiple monsters at once, and allows creatures inside his radius in order to better smash or crush them as they ping off his field. He works his way outside the village one step at a time, one body at a time.      But, as is ever the case of his story, there are too many. There are always too many. It's slow going, too slow for Lancer's liking, even as the strange monsters from Lute and the holy fists of Audrey do their work with him. They're cutting away at infinity. Pistols, grenade mines, Noble Phantasm arrows - it's an army, and everyone's using Anti-Unit tactics.      Lancer falls backwards, moving onto one of the buildings next to Archer. The strange Archer wasn't any Hero he could identify, either, which set him slightly on-guard, but given that they were on the same side at the moment...      Then again, that had been true of the King of Hungary, too, and how had he been repaid? Sometimes the knife in your back cmes from your own side.      "I believe that I can provide you time," he tells Archer as he starts gathering prana. His Master will just have to suffer the burden. It won't be the first time and it won't be the last.      As Archer prepares his destructive strike, Lancer leaps off the building, into the midst of the zombies. He crushes one underfoot in an instant, swinging his spear around him to give himself room.      "Come, savage beasts! Come, nightmares of a diseased mind! You sins upon the face of God Almighty! Before you stands a true Knight, in service to the Lord and his only begotten Son! You who live in torment, dragged from your rest by the sins of another, shall be cleansed in this place! Let my righteousness and faith become spears to pierce your diseased forms and purify you on your way to the Lord! Kazikli Bey: Lord of Execution!"      There is no trembling ground. There is no shaking earth. There is no build-up whatsoever.      But underneath every zombie, every skeleton, every monster dog outside the village, as Caladbolg falls upon it in an explosive display of overkill, stakes rip free from the ground. They rip free upwards. They pin skeletons with precision, stabbing up through eyesockets and in through ribcages to make up for the racial resistances. They impale zombies from their stomach to their skulls, piercing forth with perfect accuracy.      In moments, there is Lancer, surrounded by forest of spears that look exactly like the one in his hand. From those spears they dangle - the monsters that once were Sanary's own friends and family.      It is not a forest of spears.      It is a forest of the impaled.      Lancer walks among it, and atop it, freely. Where anything might have survived, it receives another stake, or two, or three, or four. He seems to have no particular limit.      What else would you expect from the man who impaled twenty thousand?
Lyria Mason	Lyria Mason holsters her pistols as this is not cutting it she's going to focus now as the undead keep coming for het that's fine by her she take sa moment focuses breaths deeply then changes her stance all about her spikes of earth erupot impaling any Zombies who have got close to her and yet? That pales to what Lancer of Black does. The spikes are othing compared to that, Lyria just stares at it, some primal part of her mind is afraid and the fact The Lancer of black walks through like it's nothing, yet she sitll keeps her focus adding in some small way to the spike forest...
Sanary Rondel	The village refuses to die. No, because for as long some life still breathes through the bodies of the survivors, it will never die! The pigs run about in haphazard circles at first before escaping through those gates opened by Kyra and Yari, egged on by the shouting, displays of ninja magic, and gigantic explosion about to obliterate the town from existence.      And then there's that pig on Yari's shoulders. It's strangely calmer than the rest, simply snorting once at the kunoichi holding it. Has it seen this sort of thing before? Is it the reincarnation of a grizzled veteran? Alas, that's a question for another day when they're not busy trying to not die.      For now, there's still the matter of the zombies to focus on. Septette's strikes make their marks easily, and the undead are struck down like brittle wheat before a chainsaw. Between her calculates strikes, Lyria's earthen spikes, and Lancer's unending wave of spears, they actually manage to swing the battle back into the favor of the living, taking out more of them than are being unearthed. Archer's destructive arrow breaking through the core (and all) of village itself ensure that there's no more reinforcements to worry about, nor will the village ever be defiled again.      Sanary's too busy struggling against Lute's enhanced hold to even try and figure out the more minute details of what happened, however, and her anger is significantly clouding her judgment. She can get down there and just tear through those zombies, right? Probably not, and there's something in the back of her mind telling her that this is the only way.      That's not going to stop her from shouting and screaming incoherently, of course. Her voice only dies down when the dust finally settles, and she just goes limp that hold.      The village is gone, and the only known survivors from the little border village are the healer and her pigs.
Septette Arcubielle	The fragile drones are intact so far as they've hovered above the zombies' reach, and Septette herself is barely scratched. She is by design a weapon of attrition. In theory, it doesn't matter how few zombies she can down per stroke: she does not tire, her weapons do not dull, and her magic does not run dry. Claws of flesh and bone have little on a skeleton of metal, after all. In practice, they don't have the luxury of indefinite time, but she keeps whittling away at their numbers until the very moment that Caladbolg strikes.      The drones cluster around her as Archer nocks that magical arrow, and she charges them with magical energy while fighting until the shockwave is nearly upon her. Washed out by the light of the attack is a flickering shield projected around herself and the smaller automatons; it just barely holds thanks to being near the edge of the blast, but the drones nearly burn out in the process.      "My turn," she proclaims to no-one in particular, looking distressingly gleeful as the shield dissipates and the drones crackle with absorbed energy. "SHOOT."      It's an almost comically simple command, and it certainly didn't need to be said out loud. The drones charge up... and then emit a disappointed-sounding whine as they power down and drop to the ground, frying their own capacitors for lack of valid targets. She gives one a swift kick, sending it sailing through the air for the last time, and then strides out of the village with a mock-pouting expression. "You just had to kill them ALL, didn't you?"
Yari Takane	Yari holds that pig close. The calm, odd display has Yari rushing away to preserve the pigs' life despite the chaos. And then she lands outside of the chaos, with Lute pulling her away, and Yari sighs. The girl is alive. And some semblance of Sanary's life remains. Even if it's just a bloody porker. "...I'll ensure those responsible for this are held to justice."
Lute	Lute does all he can to help Sanary. There isn't much he can do in this moment, though. Her entire hometown. Destroyed. His arms wrap around her tightly from behind, trying to make sure her flailing doesn't end with her falling off. He nuzzles against the back of her head, even though the serious, emotionless side of him is in control.      And suddenly, Lute's personality switches back to himself.      "...Sanary. I'm sorry. We'll get back at who did this. I'll do everything I can possibly to do, in order to help. It's... It's not much, right now, but... You can always consider my home, your own home, now."      A pause.      "Sanary, will you marry me?"      The other side of Lute is yelling at the dumb side of him at the moment. The yelling can be summed up as 'OH DEAR FUCKING GOD WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU EVEN THINKING YOU ARE BEING AN ABSOLUTE MORON'. This is almost certainly one of the stupidest things Lute has ever done.
Archer	Even after so much time... the sight of so many weapons at once caused a slight migraine to form at the edge of Archer's consciousness as hundreds, if not over a thousand, spears rose up out of the ground. Each was identical to the last... and all had similar histories; blank slates.     But it was what they represented as a whole that truly surprised Archer.     Kazikli Bey. The Noble Phantasm representing not a single weapon, but rather the essence of the history behind the Heroic Spirit who wielded it.     The Lord Impaler. The so-called 'Lord of Transylvania.' The origin of myth and legend for both history and fiction.      ...     Giving an amazed yet humored half-sigh, Archer shakes his head as he wonders just how many Heroes of legend he was meant to meet in his time. He had already met a few... but when meeting Servants, he knew they were likely the historical figures that pertained to his own reality.     He was more used to it now... but it did not make it any less interesting or surprising to meet them the first time.     Walking over to the black-clad Servant - slowly at first, both due to caution and because Archer's legs actually ached a bit from the force of his prior landing - Archer places on hand on his hip as he speaks - "Well... this is a surprise to say the very least. But tell me..." the Servant of the Bow asks as he approaches the ruler of Romania, one head tilted in curiosity. "Am I speaking to the legendary monster who was the vampire of Wallachia... or am I speaking to the mortal, human man hailed as a hero of his people behind the romanticized, adulterated myths? I would prefer to know which I am to give my thanks to for assisting me in this task."     The way Archer speaks... he doesn't hide the fact that he is familiar with seeing a hero's legend be twisted around and misremembered. How could he not.     After all... that was how Archer's own life had ended, now wasn't it?     Perhaps unwisely... though in his mind necessary... Archer takes the chance to approach Sanary Rondel himself when possible. His expression is still as hard and unflinching as steel... though his voice, unforgiving as it is, carries an undeniable honesty to it; "I take no pleasure in what had to be done today... but I also did what had to be done. At the very least... take solace in the fact that your homestead no longer will suffer, Sanary Rondel"      He has more to say...      ...      ... but then the chestnut-haired boy gripping her idiotically decides this to be the time to try and /propose/ to Sanary.     For the first time in a long time, Archer's mask cracks, shock evident on his face as he simply stares at the boy. Then he narrows his eyes and brings a hand to his head, a rather powerful headache shooting through his skull as he tries to process just what inane sense of logic the boy's mind was operating on. "Putting aside that I don't know your history with her - whatever it may be - I feel inclined to point out there are a /thousand/ different ways you could have done that. None of which were suitable here and now."
Lyria Mason	Lyria Mason is busy fighting for the moment the zombies just keep coming she does what she can to help but she's unerved still just by the brutaluty and calm of Lancer. She shoves that otu of her mind however as she knows and she's going to do what she can but now is the time to start getting out of here. She's keep good path with the others and she looks more than a bit haunted nd this is not her town after all she pauses at Lute's asking Sanary to marry him just after such horror she /stares/.
Yari Takane	"...Marriage?" Offers one Yari Takane, as she drops off the pigs that she's been holding. No, the ninja has offered her entire speed towards Lute in the end, having caught the man's words. And perhaps, her blade as she offers the pigs to those close to her. She'll whip out a kunai in the end, once the porkers are safe, and is Sanary. "...Are you really trying to ask her hand in marriage as her entire village is consumed? That kind of thing...It could actually make me angry." She offers to Lute, sighing. "Logan. You're above my power, but I care for Sanary. Just keep that in mind." She scowls, then softens. "So are you going to apologize for those words, or keep them close? I'll act in turn. Make the right choice." She offers, before clutching her remaining kunai.
Lancer of Black	Lancer is as unhindered by the stakes as he is by flat ground. He walks along them in gravity-defying positions, casually stepping from point to point to angle to point without any apparent hindrance. If not for the fact that he's clearly walking on a field of skewering spikes, it would be no different than a stroll through a field.      It's also more than a little bit horrifying.      Once he's certain all the zombies (and perhaps even some non-zombified bodies) are skewered on his field of stakes, Lancer makes a gesture and turns back to the group. He had revealed his identity, of that much he was certain. Granted, there were not many Knights from Romania, nor were there many spear-wielders, so when he *spoke* he may as well have pinpointed himself anyway. And it was better to be safe than sorry where the dead were concerned.      "It is best to be certain," Lancer repeats his own thoughts aloud for Septette's convenience. The spear over his shoulder - indistinct from the countless stakes rising from the ground - seems a great deal more horrific in conjunction with the nightmarish hellscape behind him. This is not a shining Servant, not a gleaming Knight of Justice with pretty weapons and pretty words, that much is certain.      Lancer tenses at the word 'vampire' as it falls from Archer's mouth. He turns, a look of fury etched on his handsome, noble features. He lowers his voice immensely, so that only Archer can hear him.      "I will assume you are not trying to provoke me," he hisses, "But it should not take more than a glance to tell that I am no thrice-damned, blood-soaked monster."      He looks over at Sanary, something of pity soaking its way through his own anger. Pity for someone stripped of everything. Pity for someone who has nothing. Pity for...      Anger.      Lancer storms forward, spear in hand. He raises it and brings it down on Lute's head, blunt-end first.      "How dare you!" He spits, "How dare you attempt to take advantage of a woman in her time of torment and misery? What a craven beast are you! Have you no pride as a man? Have you no decency, no honor?"      "Are you no better than the *worms* upon the ground?!"      "A woman's vulnerability is to be defended, not sought out to pry open and feast upon the fruit within! In such a time of tragedy you, who call yourself her friend, seek only to further your own selfish goals!"      "Absolutely..." Lancer slams the spear down on the ground to emphasize his point, "/Vile/!"
Sanary Rondel	Luckily for Septette, Sanary's still in a daze from the sheer shock of what had just happened. Otherwise, she'd probably hold a grudge against the Yggdroid for that callousness! Alas, she doesn't, but perhaps it would be best for nobody to mention that to her.      The pig appreciates this gesture from Yari! Even if it doesn't quite show it, it's at least doing its best not to thrash about. Not like it's fleeing brethren, anyway. They're just a foolish herd, anyway, but at least they'll live to spread the lifeblood of the village to greener pastures! And deserts because Plegia sucks, but still greener than what's left of this place.      Those offers of support and revenge from Yari and Lute get the barest of grunts from the healer, her mind still occupied by that massive show of destruction. Even if she doesn't show it, they are significantly appreciated.      What gets more of a reaction is that proposal. She trembles in Lute's hold as she just stares at him for a moment, then at Archer as he approaches. So many things are running through her head at the moment, and... She hates to admit it, but Archer's right. Granted, she's also royally pissed at the white-haired Servant for doing what he just did, but...      No. This is too much for her to process. Yari and Lancer chastising Lute are the last thing Sanary hears before she empties the contents of her stomach onto the ground in front of them, then just slumps over in Lute's hold without another word as the events of the day get the better of her.      At least she didn't say no?
Lute	Lute sits there on Giratina's back. He stares at Yari. And Lancer. And Archer. And then he looks down as Sanary vomits all over the place. he just watches, staring blankly for a moment.      "...I guess that's a no? And I'm sorry."      A pause.      "...Was this really bad timing?"
Yari Takane	Curse her. Yari holds it all in, even as she puts down the pigs in her care. A sigh. Damnit, Lute! "...Horrid timing, Lute! Idiot! I'll...punish you later." Huff. He's still a man who cares. Despite the impalings, Archer's works of bowcraft, Yari sighs. "Let's get her out of here!" She offers before trying to gather Sanary and Lute both into her arm and away from the scene of the zombie event!
Lancer of Black	"You sicken me," Lancer hisses, "You are a vile creature, unwilling even to claim responsibility for your vileness! You are *less* than the worms upon the ground, for at least a worm knows it is a worm and acknowledges that it is a worm."      "Yes. Leave." Lancer spits.      He looks at Yari.      "Were I you, I would not leave your friend," he motions at Sanary, "in the company of this beast for long."
Yari Takane	Yari hugs Sanary tighter. She squints upon the Impaler's words! "...Is that so? I'd best suspect the words of aetheric beast and man alike!" She offers before leaping away!
Archer	Archer, when confronted by Lancer's angry retort, manages to suppress the chill he feels from the Servant who was known as the legendary Vlad the Impaler in life, giving a simple chuckle in return as he listens to the reply - thrice-dammed and blood soaked? "No... if anything, that title is better suited for me."     At the very least, Archer has the conformation that Lancer is indeed nothing like the fairytale representation of him that Bram Stoker penned in his novel about the lord of vampires. Something else to inform Rin about regarding the Multiverse's inhabitants - after all, she had a copy of 'Bram Stoker's Dracula' in her collection, and if Lancer ever somehow came to visit Dun Realtai, she'd likely have to hide or throw away that book if the Servant hated his fantastical representation in fiction that much.     Then again, it wasn't like Archer didn't expect a Servant to be different from how history portrayed them. Gaelic spearmen wore body-suits, nameless spirits could be mistaken for nonexistent heroes on skill alone, snake-witches ended up looking more like, as Rin would say, 'dominatrixes', and at least several historical figures remembered as male ended up being women. At this point, Leonardo da Vinci could end up actually being the woman in the Mona Lisa and he wouldn't be the least bit surprised.     Well, perhaps a knee-jerk reaction if that were /true/, but it wouldn't be impossible to believe a this point.      Shaking his head at the sight of the boy being berated by all, Lancer more harshly then the rest, deciding he may as well offer some form of reparation. "If I may... my Master is a member of Dun Realtai, so by extension I suppose that gives me citizenship as well. Since Sanary, last I remember, is listed as a guest there and welcome as she wishes... I believe the lord and lady of the land would be more then happy to offer accommodation to her for the time being. After all, I doubt she has anywhere she can go for the moment, and if need be you can visit her." He then gives a half-bemused smirk as the humor of what Lute did finally settles down on him a bit. "Though I can imagine you will be thoroughly spoken to about your sense of timing regarding when to try and propose to someone."
Lute	Lute does not understand /why/ what he said was wrong. Or why people are hating him for it. He was simply trying to offer some measure of comfort. He shrugs it off, for now. No one ever will understand him. He'll never be fully understood.      A glance is given to Archer. A frown.      "...She'll be going back to Confederate medical for psychological examinations, first. After that, her choice what she does."      He keeps helping Yari carry her off. A glance is given to Lancer. He has heard the denials of Lancer being a vampire. Lute has a long history with vampires, though. Far too long of a history. A glance is given at Lancer. A suspicious glance.      "...And you can go sleep in your coffin. I'm going to start carrying my garlic on me again."
Lancer of Black	Lancer's eyes narrow.      He steps forward. "How dare a cowardly, self-righteous worm of a man speak to me as if he is my better? As if I am some thrice-damned monster for the lowest of the low to look down upon? I, who gave my life for my country! I, who bled for the God on the Cross! I, who with honor and dignity walked every day of my life!"      "You weasely, wirey, worthless little creature! I am not a vampire! I am a man, and more of a man than you have ever or will ever be!"      "May God Almighty have mercy upon your soul!" Lancer shrieks, the shriek of a man *tormented*, "FOR I SHALL HAVE NONE AT ALL! LET MY ANGER BECOME MY RIGHTEOUS BLADE! KAZIKLI BEY: LORD OF EXECUTION!"      The spears come tearing out of the ground in a heartbeat. They come stabbing upwards, moving to enclose Giratina in a tower of layers upon layers of wood. The spears rise with terrifying precision, jutting off in odd angles at seemingly-random points.      And then, from inside the spears come *more* spears! It is as if the spears are themselves the ground for Kazikli Bey, and from the walls of the tower come more spears, and from *those* spears come more spears, until surrounding Giratina is a tower of nightmarish, jutting stakes closing in like a spiral of destruction.      Sanary and Yari will not be harmed. Apparently the Impaler's control is *that* precise. The spears simply avoid them both, jutting over and around them rather than through them. Lancer is clearly in control of himself, too.
Lute	Lute's strength and reputation is not of his own physical power. It is the power of his Pokemon and other pets that aid him in this. The only thing to his benefit, right now, is the fact that he is currently wearing his Unown as an armor.      The spears come in. Lute regrets his words. His first instinct is defending Sanary. His arms wrap around her, and he moves so that both Sanary and Yari will be shielded by his body. If he knew he was the /only/ target, he'd fight back a bit more.      It doesn't matter, though. He was tired from fighting. Tired from the stress of one of his worst missed steps ever.      His body is stabbed through, and he slumps over to the ground. He lays there, until Giratina eventually picks Lute up. The red eyes of Giratina glare towards Lancer. It understands why he did it. It's no unintelligent animal, after all. But, Lancer is still watched, and this will be remembered.
Septette Arcubielle	There are certain things that Septette is very good at. None of them are what Sanary needs right now. It's not like her to be sneaky, but the blood-soaked war machine is perfectly content to not be the object of anyone's attention at the moment. Instead, she walks through the forest of the impaled, ready to gather up her scant possessions and finally depart.      Something about this whole situation puts her ill at ease. The capacity for legitimate fear isn't something that one gives to a machine like her. Maybe the forest's influence still weighs on her. Maybe the creeping malaise comes from the sense that she's hurt someone who was emotionally vulnerable. It's a moment for introspection, reflection, and--      And bloodshed, apparently. Her sensitive earfins twitch, picking up the conversation and conflict from a few hundred feet away. A few moments after Lute falls, she trudges over and pretends to be surprised at his injured state.      The illumination from her irises switches to ultraviolet light, giving the eerie impression of completely black eyes to anyone viewing her in the normally-visible spectrum. The appearance of empty sockets adds to her skeleton-like appearance... or detracts, depending on one's point of view. She looks meaningfully to Lancer, fixing him with an inhumanly steady gaze.      "What now?"
Archer	Archer regards the boy for a moment, then sighs and shrugs - "I won't stop you if that's your choice... though I'd ask if you're considering what she would choose herself?"     Then... there is what comes after... and it validates a suspicion that the Servant had been rather convinced was true.     ... yes. Now, Archer was certain he had in fact met a /bigger idiot/ then Emiya Shirou.     He also shakes his head when hearing of the boy's threats - "Those were the legends of a novel character. The actual historical figure was a human the same as you - in other words, garlic won't do a thing against him."     He crosses his arms listening to the boy, looking irritated with the brunette now since it was a rather deliberate act of provocation, and sighing when he sees him be stabbed repeatedly by Lancer's spears... though he sees that none of them were aimed at vital spots. "If you really wanted to test whether Lancer was like the myths you'd heard of, there were better ways to do it" he mutters, shaking his head.     Still, the Servant of the Bow must admit, he is impressed by the accuracy Lancer could direct his weapons with... as much as he was impressed by the literal chill that ran down his back when they were summoned.     After century after century of seeing the worst of what humanity could offer, Archer figured there was very little that cause a feeling of /dread/ in him anymore. At least not quite so abruptly.      Yet... the Noble Phantasm of Lancer inspired an almost permeable sense of dread that made him almost reluctant to think about what the odds were if they engaged in a frontal fight. A powerful effect bred by the literal seas of blood Lancer had spilled in the course of his life.     This wasn't an enemy to take lightly... and yet, in spite of that atmosphere, he wasn't the dishonorable, demonized 'Prince of the Night' that he was portrayed as in books across the Earth. He was obviously ruthless in battle and accustomed to death... but then again, so had many, many Heroic Spirits across the whole of time.     "Heh... you really aren't like what the books paint you as" Archer states, arms crossed and eyes closed with a half-smirk on his face. It might sound sardonic, but it is meant as a complement. "You could have aimed for everything in the area but you aimed only for him, and not with the intent to kill. You have a knight's pride, it seems." He gives the Servant of the Spear a glance with one eye opening as he turns to walk off the battlefield. "If anything... it perhaps makes you more fit to be called a 'Hero' in the more noble sense of the word then I, Vlad Tepes III. Though I'm not surprised to learn that. Most heroes never receive the praise they deserve or desire, after all."      After giving a final glance toward Sanary's form to ensure her condition isn't anything to worry about, Archer turns and begins walking off, the last vestiges of dust from Caladbolg's destruction seeping past the 'branches' of Kazikli Bey, making it seem all too much like a true forest of the dead as Archer astralizes and fades from sight, a phantom vanishing like the souls of the village he had destroyed not long ago.
Lancer of Black	Lancer takes in a deep breath. The Knight of the Dragon watches, impassively, as Lute is skewered, with a sense of detachment others might just mistake for sociopathy. The Servant runs his fingers through his hair, as if recomposing himself. He meets the machine-girl's gaze impassively, his own eyes a glittering, almost beastly gold, like the eyes of a cat. They flick over to the wounded Lute and the tower of spikes.      He shrugs.      "Such a creature deserves nothing less," comes his angry voice, "I do not tolerate those who spit curses in my face and dare impugne my honor when they have none themselves."      Lancer looks at Archer for a long moment. Then, he tears his eyes away. "But...I suppose that he deserves nothing more. If I took his life over an insult I would be no better than the monster I have sworn I am not."      "I am impressed that you noticed, Archer from another war. You are clearly more skilled than I could have anticipated. And with Caladbolg, no less. But you are not Fergus mac Roich, that much is certain. You have the advantage over me."      "I shall have to be careful around you, if it comes to blows."      Lancer *cannot* withdraw his spears - this is the one limitation of Kazikli Bey. They must stand, a towering testament of his anger where once stood a village, until they collapse under the weight of themselves. Perhaps someone will come along and live within that tower, surrounded by the dead.      ...most likely not.      Lancer turns, and vanishes, just as Archer did, into nothingness.
Septette Arcubielle	Medic. There's one of the many things she isn't good at.      But Sept is likely the only other living soul for miles around. Lute might bleed out, though it seems unlikely. There's a tiny chance Sanary might choke on her vomit while unconscious. She can't just leave them like this... that big grey dragonthing, even if it is intelligent, probably can't do first aid.      Her chest rises and falls in an imitation of a sigh. Her shoulders fall in resignation. This is her job now.      Carefully, she turns Sanary onto her side, trying to make sure she won't choke while passed out. Rifling around in her small pack, she applies a gauzy magical salve to some of Lute's injuries, and leaves a few more in a pile next to him.      The coordinates will probably find their way to a Confederate medic team anonymously in the next few minutes. Despite her best efforts at pretending otherwise, Septette does have a conscience, and anything that happened to her former teammates would weigh heavily upon it.      Maybe she'll invite them to a barbecue later.