4415/S.O.S. In The Snow

S.O.S. In The Snow
Date of Scene:	10 August 2016
Location:	The Tundra
Synopsis:	A small distance from Dun Realtai, out in the Tundra, a sudden explosion sends ripples through reality itself as something large apparently displaces itself into the area and then crashes down. An S.O.S. signal broadcasts, signed Chaldea Security Organization.
Cast of Characters:	1028, 482, Lyria Mason, 626, 231, Lexicon, 395, 639

---

Shielder (1028) has posed:
    The Tundra is a terrible place, cold and functionally made of snow. You could swear the air is also made of snow and the snow itself, of more snow. Luckily there's a Warpgate within reach of the disaster, so you'll have to walk all of five minutes. Or ride for a few more if you're coming from Dun Realtai, but whatever happened was far enough it couldn't possibly have messed with any of Bedivere's prized structures. Might have spooked some animals though!

    The sight upon arrival is strange; one might have expected a ship, given the fracas, or at least a vehicle of some kind, but it's actually a building. Or... a chunk of building, anyway. A futuristic looking chunk of a massive laboratory seems to have appeared high in the air here, and then promptly slammed into the ground. It's on fire and ruined, but not from the crash. It was already like this when it appeared, a good appraisal would say.

    Where the entrance of the building fell, blast door shattered, a sign clearly reads 'Chaldea'. There's leftover magical readings, indicating whatever did this was magical in nature. There are also three strong presences inside the ruins, Servants or similar. And twenty lifesigns! ... ah, no, it's nineteen now. Eighteen. Welp.

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
  Out beyond the edges of Dun Realtai, fields of late summer wheat give way to ice and snow. There is magic at work in that place, designed mostly to keep the savage winter of the tundra at bay for three quarters of the year, but past the edges of those bounds it's back to the way it was -- all snow, all the time.

  Bedivere really hates snow sometimes.

  Having chosen a war horse from the stable, a stout chestnut that shows up easily against the white snow, the knight had proceeded to throw his armour on, grab his sword and his war horn on the way out, and then set off at a break-neck gallop down the hill, white mantled cloak streaming behind him. Townsfolk had all but dove out of the way, watching him go wide-eyed.

  They've seen Bedivere fight before, but it's rare enough that even they stare as he goes by, clad for war.

  He doesn't know that's what he's going to find, but it pays to be prepared.

  With a twitch of his hand, he slows the horse as he approaches the wreckage, frowning. He carries no shield; merely a long and light sword, which he hasn't even drawn from his scabbard. His horse snorts, breath fogging; he absently pats the horse's neck as he strains his eyes to see into the mess. Frowning at the details he doesn't understand, which is most of them, he settles for what he does -- this building was not here a fortnight ago. And going by the state of it, it must have Unified somehow. Maybe in midair, to go by the noise.

  Something feels off, too. Half-closing his eyes, he clenches his left fist, drawing for a fleeting instant on his /other/ senses. There's not much more he can glean from them, fledgling as those senses are; but he can glean that something's not right. Someone might have survived in there.

  Sliding off the saddle, he gives the horse a pat, before heading for the ruined blast door.

  "Héa! Hallo!" Lifting a hand, he calls into the smoky gloom, trying to see even as he takes the first step or two in. "Has anyone survived--?"

  He'd do the smart thing and wait for backup, but somebody might have survived, you see, and he is bound to be Lawful Stupid in some regards.

Lyria Mason has posed:
Lyria is not fond of the cold, being from the tropics and normally wearing not much due to the weather? There was a small mercy her geomancy gave her a tolerance for environments like this so she would be able to get by with it. However she was not so foolish as not to bundle up a bit. Sir Bedivere had been a long time ally of the Union and Lyria was happy to help the good Knight out with whatever was going on in this snowy place.

She's got a cutlass strapped across her back and two pistol holsters.

Several small mechanical things are following along, okay just swimmer with the spider drones clinging to the serpent like machines head. Which seems to annoy /it/ a bit but it's not about to chomp them.

"Damn it's on fire we should start moving if there's anyone in there they will be in a good deal of trouble.

She follows the Round Table Knight's lead and then orders her spider drones to fan out, and she pulls down her goggles booting up the hud.

I'll have the spiders look for people.

The Tattooed and blue haired Levitani looked worried this place was a mess before it appeared and a possible unification didn't help much either she would suspect.

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
Kyra herself does not come from Dun Realtai, but abroad, speeding across the tundra on her own Chocobo matrix. The bird construct seems real as she rides the giant, yellow fowl at breakneck speed, homing in on the coordinates that were triangulated from the distress signal's location. Even beneath the heavy riding goggles she wears, she can see the ruins of a building that she's guessing was /not/ there moments ago.

    Spotting the likes of Sir Bedivere, she draws her bird from a gallop to a canter, guiding it up besides the knight and his Madpony. She eyes the strangely domesticated creature for a moment before hopping off her chocobo. Unlike the steed, the bird disappears in a flash of green Caller motes that split, then swarm back into a steampunk-looking egg timer device on one of Kyra's belts.

    "I could do a Scan." Kyra suggests, "It's harder to do when I don't have a specific target, but..." Kyra traces a triangle in the air, then encircles it with a circle, squinting her eyes. "...possibly nineteen...no...eighteen....mmm. Lyria is right, we need to move in."

Ellestaria (231) has posed:
    Grumble. Ellestaria is wearing a LAB COAT right now, hugging it tightly around her. She probably isn't nearly as miserable as she appears... the sorceress is from much warmer climes, but the way the snow is melting around her feet is making it obvious she has some kind of warmth spell about her.

    Chaldea, eh? Lest can sense the magic, easily enough. That isn't an issue. Lifesigns are harder, though. "All right, in we go then. Kyra and I will provide support, like we're best at."

Lexicon has posed:
    There's a reason Britannica is sometimes called the System's Winter Drive.

    Though normally Lexicon wouldn't venture so far out of the way, Syndicate sources contacted her about the distress and asked her to investigate, and this is what has led the brown-haired DCC to sliding down a snow-covered hillside until the snow's melted away around the remnants of a ruined building. As she comes to a stop, she raises a hand to shield her face with a sleeve, peering into the burning ruin with a frown.

    It's Bedivere's shouting that attracts her attention, glancing sidelong. Determining the source is not in the wreckage, she skirts around it towards the source until the Knight and his Steed fade into view from the surrounding tundra.

    She reaches out, materializing a jewel-tipped spear in her free hand from a scattering of bits and bytes. This is raised and slung across her shoulder, while she glances into the ruin, "So what's the situation?"

    Blue eys glance towards Kyra's assessment spell, then back to the wreckage, "I see." She sweeps the spear off her shoulders and drives it downward, so that the gemstone sticks out of the ground. Fangs unfurl around it and the stone begins glowing, "So we're kicking the crap--"

    White light fluctuates around her, enveloping the girl in digitized pixellation that breaks apart, revealing her now with silver hair and glowing crimson eyes. An axe she wasn't holding before is swung up, resting across her shoulders while armor flickers in around her arms, legs, and shoulders, "--outta some shithead virus!"

Amalthea (395) has posed:
    The tundra is no place to travel unprepared, with its bitter cold, frostbiting winds, and treacherous snowy dunes. Proper care must be taken to avoid such a terrible fate as to freeze to death. Even with the warpgate somewhat close by, Amalthea has taken proper care to don her heaviest cloak over her armor.
    And bring a jug of antifreeze along with her for the trip.
    It is this heavy cloak that is draped around Ellestaria's shoulders as the ancient unicorn knight arrives, and casually sips antifeeze from the jug like a ghetto knight sitting on theit stoop drinking a 40.
    "Sir Bedivere." She greets her fellow man of the way of the shield. The unicorn's lone eye looks to the building and the demolished entryway.
    "Looks like someone knocked." She observes mildly. "Forcefully it looks like."

Shielder (1028) has posed:
    Bedivere gets an answer almost immediatly. A middle-aged man, wearing a tattered labcoat damaged by flames (you could apply that descriptor to the man too, he's seen better days) comes running out of the building, slipping once outside and falling face first into the snow. He obviously wasn't expecting that.

    "Where-- what the hell?!" He looks around, stuttering, taking in the situation and then panicking. "This is awful! I TOLD them we weren't ready to test FATE yet!" It's an acronym, not emphasized. "What a mess-- I'm sorry, you can't be here! This is all confidential, it's--"

    The man is interrupted; from one of the upper floors of the wreckage, a shadowy black spear lances down, aimed straight for him! There's time to react and save his life, luckily. A blackened Servant stands in the broken wall portion, evidently the owner of the weapon. He looks pretty relaxed, but most of his features are obscured by the fact he seems incomplete. He looks less like a person and more like a bunch of shadows gathered in the shape of a man. The only thing that's certain is that he's wearing a cape, and that tabard has Troy's emblem on it.

    Lexicon isn't far off, this guy feels more like a virus than anything else. He's not digital, per se, but it's a similar existence.

    INSIDE, a loud crash coincides with life readings dropping to fifteen. One of the two Servant presences weakens considerably and the building shakes. Looks like some people are going to have to stay outside and take care of the boss, while others choose to head in.

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
  Before Bedivere can react, there's a man sprinting past him and landing face-first into the snow. It makes a soft 'whumpf' as it's landed in, bits of it whirling when the wind takes them. The knight looks a bit nonplussed at this, brow furrowing. Well, he wasn't expecting an answer that quickly. The place looks pretty ruined--

  There is a man running past him into the snow, wearing a charred lab coat. Both lab coat and man look like they've had better days. It must've been a Monday in the Chaldea Security Organisation right before it got dropped onto a tundra. Awful stuff always happens on Mondays, right?

  Before he can react, there is a spear slung into the snow. He's too far away to even do anything about it, so a brief, imploring look -- take care of that! -- is shot at Lexicon before he turns, heading further into the building...

Lexicon has posed:
    Crimson eyes glance from Bedivere to the ruin when an official-looking person dashes out. Lexicon quickly makes mental notes of some of the more important-sounding things he mutters before he tries to send her away. It has the exact opposite effect. Blocky glowing white wings materialize and she hikes her legs up behind her, placing her feet against an unseen, solid surface. Circles of digitized code form around her feet like a magical ring, which she springs off of with alarming speed.

    The axe misses its target, and the spear instead comes to a stop after piercing the girl's midsection in an alarming fashion. She grunts as she flips around, slamming her feet down and digging a furrow through the snow to brake herself, with a spear jutting out of her back and her front. There's two important things that are immediately obvious, here.

    Firstly, that blow would be immediately fatal to any human, punching through where the heart and lungs should be and coming out in a way that should've shattered the spine.

    Secondly, Lexicon isn't bleeding. Red, damaged code coils around entry and exit wound as she turns around, glowering up at the corrupted Servant. With her free hand she reaches up, grasping the spear and wrenching it out of her body with a spray of pixellated crimson code, leaving behind damaged holes that slowly start knitting together with white light. Weilding the spear, Lexthrusts it towards the approaching Servant, pointing menacingly, "YOU'LL HAVE TO TRY HARDER THAN THAT, ASSHOLE."

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
"Something like that. Or it could be damage from impact, people bleeding out." Kyra grits her teeth, not exactly comfortable with people sucumbing to this fate while she's around. She watches the man tear out of the laboratory, stepping side to allow him flee and faceplant into the ground. More lifesigns disappear from her scan. She doesn't even get to notice the incoming spear aimed at the scientist because she has already rushed inside, loading up one of her needleguns with darts from her Matter Manipulator as she moves.

    She casts another Scan spell. "I'm going to look for the victims!!" she calls out, homing in on those she still finds to be alive. "I...ah..." she looks pleadingly to Sir Bedivere. "Would you...if something else aggressive were to show up, would you please defend me? I could use the help of a strong knight right now."

    She gives him a sort of puppydog look before she runs off to where her spell seems to lead her.

Lyria Mason has posed:
Lyria Mason is glad Kyra is here, given her healing abilities but she starts to pick up speed as sh mentions how many people might be found in here. She hears the man.

"We'll need to get you out of here the entire place is /on/ fire and in a ...."

She's cut off she pauses at the strange Servant but now moves to go inside, there's not much time and people are clearly dying there is no time to waste. She's going to put her focus in on trying to help whom she can and get them out of here. Her drones have had some time to start looking and hopefully /find/ some people if she's lucky.

"I'm right with you Kyra on that!"

Amalthea (395) has posed:
    "Kyra, Lyria, person I've never met before." The greetings don't stop at Bedivere, and the last one is aimed at Lexicon, but that's about when interruption. In an instant every ounce of casual demeanor is gone, when the man comes staggering out and a lance is flung.
    In that very instant, the jug of antifreeze is away, and Amalthea is at the ready, shield strapped to her arm and blade drawn.
    Bedivere charges gallantly into the belly of an unknown situation. She cannot fault the man for his bravery. Lexicon eats the spear and displays a critical failure to care about it and the injury it causes.
    Amalthea whistles mildly. But she leaves the dark figure to her anyway.
    She's already hustling inside after Bedivere.

Ellestaria (231) has posed:
    "Are you all right?" Ellestaria asks the fallen one, peering over while tugging her new cloak about her a little more firmly. "Thank you, Amalthea." Of course immediately afterward, the comments from the other researchers are saying things that are dumb.

    "I don't think you have much choice," Ellestaria points out. To Lexi, she looks the program over and tsks. "Do you have this? We'll go in and find any survivors, but call if you need support. We owe you a thanks."

    She's going in with the rest, unless Lexicon requests some specific help.

Shielder (1028) has posed:
    OUTSIDE:
    The Shadow Servant's spear, now in Lexicon's hands, feels like a pretty good weapon. It's incomplete and buggy, like the foe before her, but if it were whole she can tell it'd be a powerful holy weapon. What's odd is that the speartip is, functionally, a longsword. It's a longsword with a spear shaft for a handle.

    Either way, the Servant isn't content to just let Lexicon keep his weapon and taunt him. He leaps down from the destroyed building, in a collision course with the girl! His right arm seems bulkier than his left-- armored, maybe? Or made of metal outright?

    A sudden jet of flame from the back of that elbow makes his fall pick up significant speed, too. And by the same token, his downward incoming punch.

    Before the others leave, the man, now thankful for Lexicon's intervention, grunts something brief. "P-- please be careful! The Guardian Hero Summoning System-- FATE-- it malfunctioned as we were attacked, and it called forth... those things! ... don't tell anyone I told you about it, I'm going to lose my job."

Shielder (1028) has posed:
INSIDE:
    The inside of the building would look nice and sterile if it wasn't partially on fire and also the victim of a crash. Plus Servants using the inside like a battlefield. Many sections of walls are missing, others have their tranquil blue color completely scorched or molten off. The foundations creak, indicating a real collapse risk.

    Judging from the hallways, this building must have been completely circular, because there's not a single straight path, it's always curving around lightly. It must, also, have been absolutely gigantic. There are many rooms here, most destroyed. They contain an assortment of magical research equipment, destroyed screens and computers.

    A few bodies, here and there. Spear and sword wounds for the most part, and all scientists too. If Kyra and Ellestaria act quickly they might be able to save one or two, but this tasks her with choosing between pushing ahead and not.

    One of the two Servant signatures suddenly drops, as another crash shakes the building. Falling chunks of ceiling threaten the whole group inside now, as the first floor suddenly decides it wants to be the ground floor instead. A few more signatures vanish in the quake too.

    If they're carrying those couple of people they crossed earlier it might be harder to avoid the collapse. The section of the building ahead does look a lot more open, though.

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
  "My sword is yours." Bedivere affirms Kyra's beseeching offer with a nod of his head and a few coughs, because the smoke is starting to get to him. "We must get the survivors out--out of this building. Smoke," he adds, by way of explanation. He signals to Amalthea, more acknowledging her presence than anything else. "I am Sir Bedivere of Dun Realtai," he adds, by way of introduction to Kyra. "I do not believe we are acquainted, and I wish only that it were under better circumstances."

  Forging ahead with his sword before him, Bedivere keeps an eye out towards whatever intersections he passes, mostly so he doesn't get skewered by some half-formed figure from the shadows. Arturia would be unhappy if he went and got himself skewered; he'd asked her to remain behind, since having her and Gawain should be defense enough if anything nasty goes running for his home.

  This place is even more torn up than he'd have expected. "Stay behind me," he murmurs to his allies, particularly the squishy healing kinds. "I do not know what to expect in here. These things feel... Otherworldly," he adds, narrowing his eyes. "Do any of you sense anything about them? My senses with such things are... not terribly keen."

  He kneels beside a corpse, but the corpse doesn't answer, being a corpse. He frowns as he straightens -- those are wounds he recognises, and recognises well. "Sword and spear wounds... 'ware the shadows as we saw." He doesn't know they're Servants, after all. He'll wait, in the meantime, to see what it is Kyra and Ellestaria want to do -- he's only there to protect them, since they can revive and mend wounds far better than he. A mediaeval-style band-aid isn't going to save any of these people.

  "Please hurry," he adds, to his companions. "If we can move them, best we mvoe straight ahead. It seems more stable."

Lexicon has posed:
    "If you stick around I'll keep his attention as best I can!" the silver-haired DCC shouts, "If you can't fight, you'll be more useful inside! I don't need another escort mission!" Lexicon glances at the glitched spear-sword in her hand, then holds it up. Rings of digital light wrap around it and then compress it, whisking it away into her Inventory. A giant axe and a crazy looking spear are just awkward for dual-wielding, after all.

    This allows Lexicon to swing her axe up and grasp the haft with both hands, fixing her glowing gaze on the charging Servant, "Whatever you choose to do, I'm still gonna deal with this bastard--!" There's a brief flash of silvery light around her axe's haft and blade, and she brings it down with full intent of slamming it into the Lancer right as it enters her swing radius, with the express purpose of either slamming him into the ground or slicing him in half. Whichever comes first.

    "EIN SCHLAG!"

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
"No, not really. I've heard a lot about you, heard you on the radio, but...yeah, it'd be nicer if this was under better circumstances." Kyra says as she comes upon a second body, which still possesses life: a fallen scientist, crouching down and examining her wounds. She presses a hand to her, filling the woman with a Cure spell to at least stabilize her. But, more importantly, she had to be /removed/ from the room. "There are so many people still in here-!"

    She yelps as she feels the building shake, grabbing onto the woman and squealing out "PROTECT!!" Just in time for a piece of ceiling to impact the magic shield and slide sideways, away from the pair. "You're right, we need to get them out-here-"

    Without wasting more words, she chants another spell, casting Float on the victim she was helping. The limp body levitates like a lovely assistant in a magician's show, hovering over the ground, making it much, much easier for someone to guide the body along with them. Kyra pauses briefly, assessing the same corpse that Bedivere examined earlier, and shakes her head.

    Moving ahead, Kyra uses one hand to guide the body along beside her, like a low-altitude balloon. "I have rope on me. If we find more people, we can string them together."

Amalthea (395) has posed:
    Marching order is dictated. Kyra requests succour and safety from Bedivere to make the process of disaster relief and triage all the easier on her. All for the better, considering they all just walked into chaos. At this rate, the unicorn is certain Hyral is safe and in good hands though.
    The big issue would have to be... The Heroic Spirits turning the interior of the building into their personal battlefield. Amalthea pauses now and again to poke or prod at some of the destroyed research with the tip of her blade, one the journey, but the science is not her forte. Should anything that is in good enough condition to read pop up, she'll probably loot it for later for someone more research oriented to examine, but when the building shakes and the ceiling starts crumbling in places, her shield is raised overhead; like a steel umbrella, pointedly doing her best to keep it over either Ellestaria, or the nearest injured survivor if she even manags to find one in the mess. "They're magical." She calls to Bedivere. "Familiarly so, Bedivere. And the number of them is dropping."

Ellestaria (231) has posed:
    Lest considers just long enough to fall a bit behind. "I can fight, but I think they need a healer more." While Lexicon is prepping, she holds out her hand with a murmur. "Strength of Atlas."

    It's a simple buffing spell, which should give Lexi more potency and strength. "I'll be back if there's nothing I can do in there."

    Fortunately Kyra has it, but Ellestaria uses a different kind of magic. As she hurriedly attempts to catch up, she skids to a halt at the ceiling starting to crumble. A faster, longer leap hops up toward the others, diving for Amalthea's protection. "I'll see what I can do with my own magic while you concentrate on keeping them safe."

Lyria Mason has posed:
Lyria Mason finds they have a few people. She nods to Kyra for a moment as she suggest an odd but workable idea. She'll move to help here where she can. She issues a few soft spoken commands to the spider drones. She listen to Sir Bedivere's wise words about getting these people on the move if they can. She'll help Kyra where she can, but she knows that Kyra's very good with things like this.

"Right Swimmer can take one person if it's needed."

She now hopes the drones she's sent ahead will find something of use for the party even if it's just eliminating where they should not go.

Shielder (1028) has posed:
OUTSIDE:

    Disarming the shadowy Hector was definitely a smart move; a Lancer without his spear isn't much of a Heroic Spirit at all, at least normally. This is Hector, sadly, and even incomplete and buggy he's a prodigy of the battlefield.

    His armored arm blocks the strike from the axe. Not without strain, since the weapon cuts away at his shadowy body, almost dispersing it like mist. There's no blood or visible wound when it reforms, but the Servant's presence has diminished for sure. More importantly he was flung back, smacking into the wall of the destroyed lab.

    Back on his feet quickly, he reaches into the wreckage and pulls out a long steel pike that must have been part of the building foundations. Better than no spear at all.

    Twirling it once to test balance, he then blurs out, putting his agility to full use and reappeating in front of Lexicon, thrusting the weapon at blinding speed numerous times in a flurry.

    He doesn't seem to talk. Actually, it's hard to tell if he can even understand what she's saying. He seems pretty... mindless.

Shielder (1028) has posed:
INSIDE:

    Led by Bedivere, the party inside begins by saving a life; the wounded woman is unconscious, but thanks to Kyra's spell, protected and easy to carry. With Amalthea shielding the party, and Lyria using her drone to extract one of the wounded they run across (carrying one unconscious person is a lot easier than two!), getting past the collapse isn't as bad as it could have been.

    To Amalthea's sensors, there are a lot of magical artifacts in the building, but most are obviously losing their magic. The fire and the damage is claiming most of them, and it's unlikely there'll be much to salvage here.

    Finally leaving the narrow tunnels, the group enters a very large open room. Magic is strongest here, and by all accounts this was a control room for something. Whatever it was it's so badly damaged it may as well be thrown into the trash. The flames are thickest here, but the destroyed roof lets smoke out, at least.

    In one 'corner'of the round room, about seven bodies lay, torn apart by a blade. In the opposite corner, three survivors remain, all scientists too, and alread wounded. In front of them, a purple-pink haired girl is lying on the floor, unconscious, and covered in injuries. She KIND OF feels like a Servant, but being unconscious and all, it's hard to tell. Plus, she's wearing people clothes! A white sweater over a black one-piece dress, with a red tie. Glasses, too.

    Before her body, the cause for the damage. A massive, buff man, shadowed just like the other Servant outside. He wears light clothing with shoulderpads and gloves, but most interesting is his weapon. It's a very long drill with a sword handle. Bedivere could recognize Caladbolg, even incomplete and corrupt as it is here. The corrupt Saber turns to look at the party, briefly considering if he wants to go after the last three survivors, finish off his opponent, or attack the new arrivals.

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
  "Oh?" Bedivere sounds vaguely amused. "My reputation precedes me? Truly, I am honoured. Or perhaps I should be concerned, if it is from Sir Gawain that you have heard... or from Master Merlin." Despite his friendly banter, he's keeping his attention on the hall, eyes narrowed against the smoke and soot.

  With a grunt of his own, the knight staggers sideways towards Kyra as she raises a barrier, just in time for a chunk of the ceiling to slam into it. He looks up, wide-eyed and ashen-faced, for a brief instant; then back at Kyra, with an incredibly grateful inclination of his head. That was a close one! He'd probably be a very pancaked knight if that thing had managed to fall directly.

  "A strange conveyance, but I will not argue. I do not have rope, but perhaps this will do." He's already unlatching his sword belt, handing her the scabbard. "Mayhap you can tie this to your friend. Do not lose it, please."

  That done, he's got his eyes forward again, although he glances back at Amalthea. "In what way?" he adds to Amalthea. How are they familiar, and should he be worried? Smoke increases as they move forward, though, and he raises his off-hand, using a portion of his cloak caught against his forearm to try and mask his face from the worst of it.

  Making his way into the central chamber, where the last ten remain, he sweeps the others with his eyes, mentally checking out the one that are beyond saving; regarding the three still alive with a frown. And that one girl with the glasses, she gets more of a frown. And the thing standing in front of her, an even deeper frown--

  "'Ware--!"

  Bedivere can't help himself; he makes a hop-skip leap backwards, probably right into his allies, armour clattering, warning them back with a desperate yelp. Oh, yes, he recognises Caladbolg; the sword of Fergus mac Róich. A blade he really doesn't want to see here, because Fergus was a contemporary of Cúchulainn. And let's be fair, Irish heroes are pants-wettingly terrifying to a guy who still thinks of himself as a bog-standard mortal.

  "Stay back," he addresses the shadowed hero, even as he advances forward to where he had been before he'd panicked back a step or two. Fear and doubt melt away; this is what a knight's duty is. "Tend to the survivors," he implores, of the healers; even as he strides forward, sword whipping up in an effort to catch the shadowed Fergus mac Róich's attention.

  "I am your opponent," he calls, to the twisted hero. "Turn your blade to me. The others are not worth your attention."

Lexicon has posed:
    "Yeah, you like that?" Lexicon wrenches her axe from the ground, legs splaying out briefly to balance herself. Once she's sufficiently not wedged to the ground by her weapon, the girl actually floats just a few inches off the snow. Her axe is swung up across her shoulders again, one-handed. As Shadow Hector re-arms himself with a steel rod, Lex reaches her free hand out, palm up-turned, and makes a 'come on' gesture with her fingers. While her expression is serious, there's a sharp grin on her face, accented by the glow in her eyes.

    With her foe thus-rearmed and then moving so fast she can't follow-- Lexicon brings her weapon down, bracing it with both hands. The bulk of the axe's haft and head act as a shield, though there are obvious parts where the makeshift spear strikes her body, tearing holes and scattering damaged red code. When it strikes the armored Processors orbitting her body, all it does is send off sparks just like striking armor should. With a growl, the DCC bares her teeth, pushed backwards by the assault, "Pretty crafty.. Or just one-track minded.. One spear or another, it's all the same for you, huh."

    Resources begin to glow around her, glittering silver light across the snow and stone outside the ruin, gathering into a ring around her feet while Shadow Hector continues his attack. The symbol paints itself around the pair, forming digital code in a hex format, interlocking polygons centered around the Servant and the Drive Core Controller. Inclining her head, she lets out a 'tch' sound, "You think you've got the advantage like this?"

    Pushing back slightly to give herself room, Lexicon hauls her battered axe overhead, "Don't get your hopes up, scum!" Within just a second or so, she slams the axe down-- Not onto the Servant, but into the digital pattern gathering around the pair, "LATENT KATASTORPHE!"

    In the frozen tundra, she's in her element, and her Ice elemental affinity is at its strongest. Which is reflected when the collection of polygonal magic shapes all suddenly erupt into a forest of razor-sharp ice spikes. A heartbeat later, Lexicon soars up and out of the thicket, unharmed by her own attack, eyes already scanning the ice for signs of her foe.

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
"Oh, thank you, Bedivere." Kyra nods and gently lashes the belt around the upper arm of the wounded scientist. Of course, her pulling a body along like this looks pretty undignified, but it at least gets the job done.

    Kyra pulls something up from her collar that covers the bottom of her face up to her nose-some kind of in-built breathing mask it seems? Could be a scientist thing where Kyra is from. She also puts her riding goggles back down to minimize the smoke in her face. Her voice is muffled now but still loud and coherent enough to cast at the very least.

    She freezes and immediately makes sure she's behind Bediver upon spotting the shadowy servant with the drill-weapon. Caladbolg is not recognizable to her at all.

    "I'm going for them." she says quietly. "I have to." She edges around the room carefully, trying to avoid the corpsepile, trying to avoid getting the Servant's attention, as she angles to get at the fallen Servant and the trio of living people still in the room.

    Once in range, she wastes no time-much like the other, she opens with a wide-spread Cura on the four to at least stabilize the victims. Once she's close enough, she starts examining wounds more carefully for some more targeted first aid. Amongst the things she carries are bandages and other wound sterilizing items. She examines the seeming servant extra carefully-Kyra, having contracted with Nero, can certainly recognize one.

Ellestaria (231) has posed:
    Hmmm. "Sir Bedivere, I think this opponent may be a bit much. I hope you don't mind a little bolstering," Ellestaria announces. "Kyra, if you'll see to the wounded?" She hardly has to tell the medic that. It's mostly out of habit. Also, Lest is kind of bossy.

    For her part, she holds up both hands and concentrates, crackling energies swirling inward from the free magic that's been released. The raw mana of the artifacts that have been destroyed funnels inward, before she casts it outward with a surge of power, murmuring a longer incantation in greek which we shall skip because the player is a bit tired tonight.

    The effect is a 'simple' buff, though one that causes an invigoration in Bedivere, boosting strength, speed, toughness, and even enhancing senses to a high degree.

Lyria Mason has posed:
Lyria Mason now draws her cutlass and one of her pistols, she thumbs the elemental selector to neutral as she's going to play it safe. She does look ot the possible servant and three other surivors.

"Well we shou... oh hell."

She just /stares at the Saber this just got serious she knows enough about Servants, just enough to know how dangerous in a fight even a 'weak' one would be. Thankfully Sir Bedivere is tanking for the party and that gains him some points.

"I have your back Kyra!"

With that Lyria's moving after Kyra going to do what she can to cover her friend and the wouldnt if it comes to needing it she does keep her pistol ready and trained on the hostile. To the strange possible servant's condition Lyria asks.

"She still alive?, Kyra?"
% Also she thinks she owes Bedi one, oh she totally /owes/ Bedi one.

Amalthea (395) has posed:
    "In the way of..." Amalthea begins to speak- she was about to answer Bedivere when they party finds way into the chamber. Her eye falls upon the bodies. Then to the three living scientists. Then to the girl. Her gaze, perfect crystal blue, lingers for a beat before her attention is stolen by the muscular figure bearing that coiled sword. Her answer should come obviously and with little surprise.
    "In the manner of a Servant."
    Share is 'ware, now, weight shifting onto her toes, she takes to line at Bedivere's side, to bolster the honorable knight and present a united front of two armored bodies between the 'hero' Fergus, the injured survivors, and the supportive efforts of Kyra, Lyria, and the unicorn's own wife.
    But she moves no further.
    Bedivere has invoked a challenge. It would dishonor her, insult the Round Table Knight, and be unfair to his chosen foe.
    She rests the tip of her blade, Faith, upon the ground and rests her hands on the pommel, staring intently. She stands as a wall to protect the others, should the ancient hero get past Bedivere, but she will leave the battle and her trust in Bedivere's hands.

Shielder (1028) has posed:
OUTSIDE:
    Weapons crash, the axe used like a spear. Hector is strong, just a step under Lexicon. Granted, with Ellestaria's magic active, it's more than a step right now. There's no reply to the taunts or comments; the Servant just doesn't seem to care, focused entirely on his destructive task.

    The hail of sharp, jagged ice spikes does quite a lot of damage too. At first, Hector defends the best he can, spinning the spear and striking the ice down, but soon he's overwhelmed, pierced numerous times by the attack. He's forced back, his form even worse off than before. It seems he's struggling to retain his humanoid shape.

    With a long leap back, Hector lands on a chunk of wall, pulling his right hand with the 'spear' back. Damaged as he is, he still manages to attack, a testament to the legend the image mimics. The thruster on his elbow blasts out full-force, and Hector hurls his shabby spear towards Lexicon like it's a rocket.

    Predictably the spear isn't going to survive the attack, arriving at destination as molten slag loosely shaped like a spear. Still painful, though!

Shielder (1028) has posed:
INSIDE:
    Bedivere makes his challenge. The corrupted Saber image makes the slightest noise of acknowledging the challenge, but seems... distant. It's a pale image, not a real hero or person at all. If Bedivere's ever given a holodeck a shot, he might well feel it's a similar situation. The shadowed appearance aside, it doesn't 'feel' like a real person. The shadow Servant has no 'presence', beyond the fact Bedivere is letting the weight of the legend affect him.

    Kyra tends to the three survivors; they're thankful, but not very talkative. One of them seems to object to Kyra tending to the fallen Servant, but he's in no state to stop her.

    Mashu's state is pretty critical; she's wounded from exchanging numerous blows with the shadow Saber, but worse she's out of MP. She probably needs MP more than she needs healing.

    With Ellestaria's buff, especially given how much raw magic is in the air here, it won't be hard for Bedivere to match the fake Fergus in combat. And he'd better get to it, because Fergus advances. Like a wall of muscle moving at the speed of sound. Caladbolg begins spinning, causing a terrible noise. It glows ~RAINBOW~, a decisive strike aiming to down Bedivere immediatly. ... as well as the entire room. Hit or miss, that attack is going to fissure the ground, the rainbow blast tearing the room into two halves slowly crumbling into the opened ground below.

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
  "You are welcome," he offers to Kyra, not quite turning his head to address her over his shoulder. His eyes turn then to regard Ellestaria from the corner of an eye. "And you have my thanks, Lady Ellestaria." He's going to need whatever she's offering, probably.

  His eyes turn forward, then, locked on the shadowed figure of Fergus mac Róich. There is no time for anything else but the opponent in front of him. Even if this version is corrupted somehow, fighting one of the Red Branch is going to take every ounce of cunning, endurance, and strength if he wants to make it out of that battle alive. Never mind actually winning -- he's aiming for survival, this time.

  Challenging this once-a-man was probably a very stupid thing to do, but Bedivere is well aware of these gaps in logic. There is a certain irony that, despite upholding the honourable codes and laws he has sworn himself to, he is every ounce aware of how dangerously self-sacrificing they are. He is very much aware that fighting this warrior of the Red Branch, man to man, is probably going to be his death.

  "If I do not survive this," he murmurs to Amalthea, "please tell her..."

  He considers, even as he sizes up that shadowy figure and its twisted, corkscrew-bladed sword.

  "Tell her I am honoured to have stood at her side." Bedivere takes a step forward. "That I am proud to have stood at the Round Table." Another step. Dust and ash puff away from his sabaton. A little pessimistic? Maybe a little, but Bedivere does not believe his luck in surviving abysmal odds is inexhaustible. At least he doesn't have to say who it is he wants those words delivered to; Amalthea will know.

  Is there even enough left in the shadow-Fergus to understand what has been said to him? It doesn't seem so, and that in itself seems more unsettling than the power of the legend. Were it a real Heroic Spirit it might be reasoned with, appealed to, but this...

  "Lord God grant me strength," the knight mutters, and between one breath and the next Fergus is advancing. He raises his own nameless sword, een as Caladbolg shines like a prism, every colour of the spectrum, giving its terrible cry.

  He throws himself forward -- not because he intends to attack, but because it's the only place that isn't /shattering/ around him when Caladbolg strikes. Darting to one side, he uses the magic given him by Ellestaria to lend him the edge he needs.

  Nothing fancy, here. He's just trying to plan his sword into Fergus' shadowed side, through his shadowed ribs. He's not going for theatrics, here. He just wants to put the big Servant-thing down, and /quickly/. After all his talk, it seems kind of anticlimactic.

Amalthea (395) has posed:
    It is true Amalthea is all too aware of who Bedivere wishes his messgae addressed to. And she is also well aware of the inherent disparity in the strength between a man, and a legend. But Bedivere is given a small gift in the moment. Not quite as tangible or magical as Ellestaria's empowerment. But it is a small gauntlet-clad hand that rests upon the knight's shoulder. An act of physical contact, the likes of which the unicorn normally shies away from, with most people aside a small, select, cabal.
    "I'll hold that message at your request." She says. "But I'm sure you can tell her yourself when this is done."
    Gentle words of encouragement as Bedivere takes to his battle.
    Before that Noble Phantasm is wielded. The prismatic light has her in motion alread, leaping aside from the onset of cracking grounf, her shield brought to bear.
    Damned Servants always cheating. She grits her teeth. Bedivere is on the offensive... She'll do her best to absorbe anything that gets by so the others won't have to, while they tend to the wounded and mana-less.

Lexicon has posed:
    "Tch..!" Even airborne, Lexicon is hardly safe, a fact that she recognizes when contending with a spear fighter. Spears are easily thrown. Much like her rival, Emerald Soul, likes to do. Fully expecting either a rocket dash or a more practical throw, the DCC's wings disappear and she drops like a stone, under the molten projectile. A ring of digital light forms a few meters below her and she lands on it briefly, just long enough for her wings to reform. Springing from this, Lexicon hurls herself right at the damaged Servant.

    "BIG MISTAKE!"

    On approach, Lexicon hurls herself into a wild spin, her axe leading the motion and tracing white streaks. Like a crazed, runaway buzzsaw, she slams into the building where Hector was standing. Whether he's still there or not is irrelevant-- she's likely to bore a hole into the building regardless of if there's a Servant in the way or not.

    "TANZERIN TROMBE!"

Merlin (639) has posed:
    It isn't as if The Bedivere Show has no viewers. To be honest Merlin had tuned in with his mystical means a while ago, concerned about the Steward of Dun Realtai - and rightly so it seems. There's a flash of magical energy, strange and hybridized in its way, that leaves Dun Realtai just a little bit quieter and calmer somehow. At least the serving girls aren't being flirted with for the moment.

    That flash echoes where Bedivere stares down his foe. "Ask and ye shall receive, Sir Steward," Merlin mumbles under his breath - along with something else. He'd seen the Shadow of the servant. The powers of darkness of some flavor or another, and there's almost always one true solution. And Bedivere, unknowingly or not, finds that solution on his own.

    Amalthea touches his shoulder, while the pale haired wizard focuses on the man's heart. The feelings he has for Saber, their connection; it's enough to draw a magical power out through the wannabe filidh's feelings. That power manifests in hope and love, and Bedivere's desire to see Saber once more fills his sword. The sword...begins to glow, a light not unlike that of Excalibur - the Hope of All Mankind. Perhaps just a spark, a single match against the darkness...

    ...but in the darkest of rooms even an ember can overpower the strongest of shadows.

    "Strike hard, strike sure, Bedivere - and strike with your HEART." But the word of advice practically goes unheard, and it isn't necessary to elaborate on. He will find his way; for now Merlin turns his attentions to the cute girl in a cute outfit lying unconscious in a not so cute way. He recognizes the signs of mana depletion, in a catastrophic way. And he begins to gather his OWN power.

Lyria Mason has posed:
Lyria Mason is able to give those inside cover, she'd open fire on the servant shadow, yet? That would draw it's attention upon her, thus putting Kyra and the wounded in harms way.

"We need to get all of you out of here soon, all of you. We have managed to get a few others..."

She looks down at the maybe a servant even as Sir Bedivere is giving it his all and proving why he earned a seat at the Round Table.

She looks to Kyra and pauses.

"What's wrong with her? If your short on magic I have a couple of ethers, but I have an idea."

Then comes Merlin, she knows /she/ had nothing to do with it the blue haired tattooed Levitani is no summoner, and Merlin clearly isn't part of her world's pantheons, yet? She has an idea as she is she starts to focus her own magic to call out to this place, it's a place of civilization of science and magic. So she's got an idea of what she'll get and that turns out to be a burst of smoke almost like smug which might help blind and otherwise waylay the shadow and aid Sir Bedivere.

Kyra Hyral (626) has posed:
Kyra has no time to listen to her patients complain. She's very touch and go for the next few moments, completely absorbed in making sure each person stays alive. With enough first aid and magic performed, she finishes by casting float on everyone and gathering them together.

    The matter of MP is a problem that Lyria also notices, "Give her an ether if you have one, Lyria, I can't give her my MP, not now when I need to stabilize people. She needs it, though, or else she's going to fade out of this world. It's how they keep form here, you see?"

    As she speaks, she gathers the now-floating victims to her, producing some rope from her matter manipulator so the rest can be tied together. "Hurry, we need to evacuate these people."

Shielder (1028) has posed:
INSIDE:

    As Bedivere suspects, the shadowed Fergus doesn't understand. He certainly stares Bedivere down as he speaks, but there's no understanding glimmer in his eyes. He sees Bedivere as 'a thing that needs to be cut'. There's no reason to be had here.

    But between Ellestaria's magic, and Merlin's sudden entrance, the light that Bedivere wields is match enough for the corrupt image of Caladbolg. Oh, it's a flashy rainbow sword, but it's hardly what it should be. If it were the real sword, legends say, an idle swipe could cut a mountaintop. Then again legends say King Arthur is a man. Grain of salt and all.

    The exchange of blows is sudden and swift. Lyria cheats, too, and messes with Fergus' footing, causing a strike aimed for his side to pierce his chest instead. Bedivere's strike cleaves Fergus in two, and the shadows disperse, cast away by light. There is, in one strike, nothing left of the false Servant anymore.

    This happens just in time for Mashu to regain consciousness thanks to the ether and healing-- her pale pink-purple eyes only manage to catch the upswing of Bedivere's blow cleaving Fergus in two. They light up with admiration. This is definitely not going to come back to bite anyone. Sadly, she's still too weak to really move, but much better now.

    The room is still kind of cut in two and collapsing into the fissure though. Escape! Escaping would be nice. Especially now that the survivors are healthy-ish again. There is also A TERRIBLE NOISE as something outside happens.

Shielder (1028) has posed:
OUTSIDE:

    Outside, Lexicon makes like a living drill and buzzsaws through Hector. His body is torn apart into wisps of black light and shadows, dissipating his body into magic, which eventually fades. There's nothing left of him, and the damage Lexicon causes to the remains of the lab causes a shudder in the structure, as the building now starts crumbling into the massive fissure faster and faster.

    Too bad it wasn't the real Hector, he might have had a quip about the kind of girl Lexicon is or even hit on her nonchalantly on his deathbed.

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
  Before the maelstrom, a weight falls on his shoulder. Bedivere turns his head aside with a startled sound in the back of his throat. He, much like Amalthea, does not like to be touched. Doing so tends to draw unpleasant reactions from him. Yet the gravity of the gesture does not escape him. He inclines his head, deeply; as much a gesture of profound gratitude and respect as he can afford.

  If there is anything left of him to tell Saber, that is; but he doesn't voice his pessimistic observation.

  Barely has Merlin appeared and given his lecture than Bedivere holds up his nameless, unremarkable sword, which is now very much remarkably throwing offlight. It is no Excalibur, nor even Caledfwlch, but it is still a light in this darkness of ash and ruin. That Merlin is here is a much-appreciated twist, but he has no time to make conscious note of it.

  Fergus, or the thing that might have once been Fergus mac Róich, demands all of his attention.

  Bedivere feels the strike turning, even as he closes in on the fallen Irish hero. He rolls with it, jamming the blade straight into Fergus' torso, a hand gripping the pommel to help shove it home -- and right through, shadows tearing themselves away and dispersing around him. He staggers at the follow-through of his own momentum, carrying him past and through a foe no longer there.

  Regaining his footing, he coughs at the smoke, head whipping to one side at that terrible sound outside. No time to concentrate on how surreal all that was -- this building probably isn't much longer for this world.

  "Merlin!" Bedivere's call is a whipcrack across the sound of the building busily tearing itself apart around them; a voice accustomed to being heard over battlefields. Merlin will hear him. "Stay and help us escape! There are wounded!"

  He's alsoready running to help Kyra and Ellestaria, carrying his sword because he gave the scabbard and sword belt to Kyra. "Come, we must away from here! All haste!" Because he's pretty sure he /won't/ survive a building collapsing on his head, buffs or no, and doubly so for those semi-conscious people over there.

Lyria Mason has posed:
Lyria Mason is cheating yes but it's more evening the odds out and is it cheating when the thing isn't even a person? She does however kneels down as Mashu wakes up a bit. She takes the ether flask after having put her cutlass away and pops the top.

"Drink this, it should help."

She'll offer the bottle to Mashu but if she needs help Lyria will help her with getting the ether down. Which should hopefully help her a bit.

We need to get you out of here miss, with everyone else. Can you move? If not we'll help you out of here.

Lyria seems friendly enough but she is pretty strange looking all things said and done.

She looks to Kyra for a moment grinning at her friend but will then make ready to help anyone who needs aid in getting out and thankfully Sir Bedivere is coming to aid everyone with this.

Let's shove off shall we?

Merlin (639) has posed:
    The wizard of Dun Realtai watches with an affirming nod as the Ether potion is applied. Good. It's at least stabilized the girl, though now the world is coming down around them. Time to leave. One hand caresses her face gently, settling her glasses into place and making it a little easier to see. A smile, a hush, and his finger drops to her lips to stop any sort of question she might have. "Save your strength a moment."

    Bedivere's call is acknowledged. "Quite several! Haste is at your heels!" He slides his arms under her, cradling the mana-drained girl gently. One hand clings to her shoulder, holding her close, the other arm goes under her legs - and his hand, still holding the wooden staff, tightens. "Quickly now to me! There isn't going to be much time!"

    Flickering into existence, a shield appears like an debris-umbrella above his head - and, stretching as much as the wizard can maintain it, towards the others. Mashu herself would feel the growing power in him - as would the others, though possibly less so - as a growing cloud of fog envelops the group. 'Serpent's breath, charm of death and life, thy omen of making' echoes through the air, as if said by nothing and everything at once.

    A faint gust of wind blows the fog away, and anyone who was with him is going to realize that they're no longer within the building - though it is going to get quite a little bit cold. As for the girl in his arms, Merlin has a plan, but it's going to take a little work...

Lexicon has posed:
    Concrete, glass, and steel give way beneath the fury of a provoked Drive Core Controller until a whirling top of silver light and white armor and legs explodes into the lab ruin's central chamber.

    AND THEN

    Everyone is whisked away to another cold place. She pauses, axe held up in a final sweeping motion from her spin. Immediately, the girl's surrounded by silver, digitized pixellation which dissolves her Processor armor units and her weapon. With a shout of surprise, Lexicon drops into the snow, her clothing ripped but serviceable, still sporting a significant hole in her chest that's still in the process of knitting back together with thin strings of silver light.

    With a quieter sound, she shifts herself to sit in the snow wariza-style, hands resting on her knees while she surveys her surroundings, "What happened to the facility?"

Shielder (1028) has posed:
    AN ESCAPE SCENE HAPPENS. It's very climatic, with building bits and pieces falling everywhere and graceful, nick-of-time dodging and Mashu being very very confused about being swept up by Merlin and carried to safely. She's starting to recover though, especially with Lyria offering another potion.
    After the escape, what scientists remain will, hesitantly, explain that their organization (Chaldea) was testing something called the Guardian Hero Summoning System, or 'FATE'. They managed to summoned three Heroic Spirits, but two were badly damaged by the process and turned hostile. This coincided, very unfortunately, with an attack from unknown foes on their headquarters. Something went wrong and displaced a chunk of their lab... and now they have no idea where 'their' Earth is.

    As for the third Heroic Spirit, they aren't sure what happened. It seems to be inside Mashu now, she was separated from the group when it all happened. Either way the end result is that she transformed momentarily to fight Fergus and save everyone-- and lost, evidently.

    Mashu will spend most of this time being quiet. She's a bit shaken, still hurting, and it seems the event damaged her memory quite badly. That's where things get a bit compicated. The scientists wish, at all costs, to see Mashu return to the main headquarters if they can find it. She doesn't seem warm to the idea at all.

Merlin (639) has posed:
    Ooh, more beautiful women. Merlin takes in Lexicon with widened eyes; watching that hole in her chest (YES he's focusing carefully) knit closed, he's just a little bit reminded of the power of Avalon. To see such a thing in the Multiverse... Her question is, though, one that's quite interesting. "Indeed. An excellent question...and, 'what was it doing with you?'

    This last is applied to the revived Mashu. Fortunately the answers come quickly enough from the remaining science types, and Merlin simply stands there - the girl still held in his arms. She's certainly regained some of her magical health, as it were, but there's still a Servant deep within. And she's hardly dressed for the terrible cold here, so Merlin will keep her close.

    And upon hearing the impossible truth, Merlin realizes just what it is he senses in her - and /why/ a single Ether potion, normally enough to restore the weakest of mages, barely even touched her. Fortunately she's not likely to protest, though it's quite likely Bedivere will have words to say to him later. Well, he'll have to learn how to properly do it at some point, and it never hurts to show off.

    Why yes, Merlin does kiss the girl in his arms. Deeply. It's almost a chaste thing, but there's a power that flows through him and into her. Some of it - most of it - is the simple and massive transfer of what mana Merlin can spare. Maybe a little of it is a spiritual anesthetic, a strong sense of pleasure to counteract the coldness and to fight back against the kind of pain the girl's in. And there's even enough mana spared to give Mashu's next vision, when she comes up for air and her eyes open and focus on someone once more, a vision of beauty complete with soft focus, flowers, and sparkles floating in the background.

    Shoujo-vision, a Merlin trademark since at least the third century AD. And with that, Merlin simply carries the girl off following in Bedivere's stead. It would be wrong to let a patient of his walk, especially one dressed in such fetchingly cute - er, thin - garments...

Shielder (1028) has posed:
    "?!"

    Mashu is absolutely confused by what happens. If she knew this is The Merlin kissing her right now she might actually stop being confused and start squeeing about how she got to kiss one of the greatest mages in legend. Also let's be honest, for an old man, he's kind of handsome, so it's not like Merlin is some crusty old bearded wizard.

    Sadly she does not know that this is Merlin and instead acts flustered for several long seconds, and eventually manages to disengage from the very awkward situation herself. Any objection she's about to voice is silenced when she realizes she feels not just healed but her magic has been restored.

    She is going to have a lot of things to say and question when she can actually string together more than one thought at a time, but right now is kind of bad for that.