Scene #3002: Who Rules Harbourtown?

Owner	Pose
Duet Fortuna	The last target had no walls and few defenses, but a lot of nobles. This one... is bigger. There may be nobles here, and there are definitely defenses. This isn't a resort and mining town that relies on the local nobility to defend it, this is an actual naval base, complete with towers for anti-aircraft and long-distance attacks, large city walls that are actually well-staffed by competent-looking soldiers, and patrol boats that guard the harbor. Victory Sound is a major base, and it shows it. Of course, a large portion of the fleet is NOT HERE right now. Having set off to reinforce the army that is heading toward Senna Bliss, the actual number of boats is /relatively/ small. There are still what appear to be battleships here, though. Terra Majora's technology is right on the cusp of more complex things, so there are a mix of old wooden sailing vessels and newer, steam-driven monstrosities of iron and steel battleships, the pride of the Navy. Given the approaching forces, they're actually getting to be on alert now. Breaking in will be more difficult for this place. It does, as usual, have a pretty clear-cut difference between civilian and noble sectors, though.
Guest Psyber	The conversion job was quick, mostly out of necessity to quick deploy to the location. What had, less than ten or twenty minutes ago, been an army-delivering troop transport in one of the Union hangars, had been quickly converted. Turrets and defense weapons de-mounted, a quick paintjob to put the Union Humanitarian colors on it, and then a deployment before the paint had even had a chance to dry on the hull. Still, the once-troop transport that arrives is obviously no longer a war machine by the time it arrives from warp-hop and circles in over the city. Taking surveillance of the terrain below, it does a few quick cycles over the city in order to both establish its presence and broadcast a message very loudly, in Psyber's voice: "Attention sieged citizens. This is the Union Refugee Transport Ship 'Mayflower'. We will be landing on the outskirts of the city. Anyone who wishes to relocate to Taliel will be given safe passage, wherein you can negotiate citizenship with Princess Illuvia in regards to your societal contribution under its new laws and practices. We are giving equal passage to Blooded and Non-Blooded. We will be sending agents into the city to cover your retreat and guide you safely, if you wish to rendevous with us." The message clicks off as Psyber has the ship do one more circle over the city, possibly to help Archer pick where he wants to disembark and take up a perch. The ship then promptly engages precisely no hostile action and heads towards just outside the city, setting down gently and opening its back hatch to prepare for receiving citizens. The Colonel who has set up this ship, who will also be functioning as its guardian, opens a hatch atop the landed ship and steps out onto the top of it, clearly making himself visible. He's already sent Elliana a private burst transmission in relation to his involvement, though carefully he leaves no clause for Archer's hostile actions in his message to her. PHONE: Phoning Elliana Fairchild, Psyber says, "Tell your people if they do not engage my transport ship, I will personally not enter the battle." PHONE: Elliana Fairchild says, "Certainly. Tell Duet to get out of there if she is hanging around again." Internally, Psyber wonders something much more important. With this world's naming scheme, shouldn't it be named 'Defenseless Grotto' instead of 'Victory Sound'?
Purity Hopesong	Purity intends to be of the slightly sneaky persuasion this time, truly cloak and dagger stuff. Mostly, this is obvious from the hooded cloak she's wearing, and the daggers tucked into various pockets. The hood mostly succeeds in hiding her distinctively scarred face as she makes her way towards the city, looking for anywhere she might be able to slip in. Though, naturally, the mercenary is somewhat less worried about 'being spotted' than she is about 'being spotted by someone she can't rapidly kill'. Still, she's going to have a hard time finding any weaknesses in the defense; she'll settle for somewhere along the wall where she can grapple hook up and just have a small fight on her hands, likely wherever they are highest. It's cheating slightly to call it a grappling hook, though. Her hand is simply going to fly upwards carrying a hook with a rope attached, then help pull her up after embedding it securely.
Adelyn Lysen	As promised, Adelyn Lysen commits three large, heavily armored airships to this excursion, along with about a dozen smaller craft, half of which are comparatively armed. It's unclear what she'd consider a 'battleship,' since the cruisers are still pretty big. It could go without saying that the landing craft she'd sent previously are minnows by comparison, but the designs are similar in technology, using that same amalgam of magic and sciences gleaned from multiple worlds. Long, gleaming, slope-armored affairs, their guns powered by reactors, engines, and magi. She is present, but not presently doing more than watching the battle through large, holographic displays while sitting atop the central craft's deck. Out in the open, yes, though less than substantially worried about being bombarded. She's watching arrivals--such as the Union transport. On the one hand, it's a Union ship, and that cannot be to any benefit. On the other hand, it's declared itself a noncombatant. If that's true, then attacking it would be highly inappropriate, and she has little way of confirming a lie in short order. She'll just have to deal with the possibility of ambush or more subtle hostility by Union elites. Troublesome variables. As she said, this force is light on ground troops. There are some landing craft, but no real troop transports. The main goal will be to destroy mobile enemies, neutralize defenses, and then cow the remainder from afar.
Guest Madeline	As Madeline stated on the radio, she brought the Third Fleet this time. That being, several First Age cruisers and battleships, in addition to support ships. She is on the flagship, inside her mecha, the Radiant Empress. The fleet is underway at a rapid pace, and supported by a sleek, green-tinted and draconic-looking airship above, which flies slightly behind the flagship like an obedient puppy. The ship is bristling with weapons, including what looks like some sort of spinal mount. Madeline herself is engaged in typing something across the keys, humming to herself. EXECUTING: Commanding_Presence_of_Fire.em As the fleet scoots toward the city and nears weapons range, the program executes. A brilliant, giant image of flames appears above the flagship, following along as the Radiant Empress moves. In the image of the Warstrider, it can be seen for miles around, and the booming voice it calls out in echoes through the city. "People of Victory Sound! This is Madeline Vance, the Radiant Empress of Unwavering Rule. This city is now mine. The base and all upon it are mine. If you wish to leave the city now, in peace, you may do so. If you wish to surrender, you will be treated well and allowed to swear fealty to me. If you wish to resist, I will be forced to bring arms to bear. You have until the first shot is fired by your city, or twenty minutes to comply."
Lu-Mey	Let it not be said that Lu-Mey is not an Oni of many talents and skills. Because while she could be sneaking around the city, the wandering, itinerant, dancing, murderer... Is on board Madeline's flagship as well. In her hands are a pair of fans as she traipses along the railing, wobbling precariously over the edge of a drop right into the water, giggling to herself. "Um. Should you really be up there like that?" The voice is soft, girlish, but amplified by the loudspeaker attached on the bulky figure of what appears to be a massive suit of Japanese armor. A tilt of the head, and the crimson Yoroi, Shen-Di makes a bit of a worried motion as the pilot within, Aka-hime, is clearly nervous. "Eh, she's kind of off her rocker as it is." Ao-hime chimes lazily, the blue-clad princess replies. Lu-Mey however is having none of it. "Oh come come? They get twenty minutes? That's too much! What am I supposed to do to entertain myself while I wait?!" Aka and Ao-hime both sigh in exasperation.
Mordred	It is on the tip of one of Madeline's ships that the Saber-class Servant of Elliana Fairchild stands, arms crossed and idle. MORDRED idles there, wrapped in the cloaking effect of Secret of Pedigree; not an inch of her skin if visible, and her shape is distorted, even the color of her armor and her voice difficult to pin. Though one can still tell it's a Saber-class Servant with high statistics, one couldn't tell anything else; not visually, and not with magic. Except, you know, people who've already met Mordred. Those people can see through the effect like it isn't there. At a glance it doesn't look like the Servant is tipping her hand this time. Last time she played a bit more strategically; today she's just feeling... like muscle, really. Bored. She wonders if they'll comply or if it'll turn into a war; oh, who is she kidding. Nobody ever surrenders in these circumstances. That's basically the one constant through history. If people were able to acknowledge superior forces, war wouldn't exist.
Raine Arland	Raine had caught a ride with Madeline this time. Standing on deck, which was probably a bad idea, he looked off towards their looming destination. "Heh. These things just keep getting more and more complicated huh?" He mumbled to himself, a hand held flat above his eyes as he looked. "What do you say our chances of victory are?" He then asked, glancing aside. A white figure faded into sight beside the young man, her sleeved arms crossing. "My assessment of the situation isn't going to help you." She smirked. "I'm just an observer." Raine rolled his eyes and looked on ahead. "Right. An observer." He let the subject drop, Fragarach shimmering out of sight, and listened as Madeline's proclamation boomed out across the city, causing him to plug his ears with his fingers. A useless gesture. "Sheesh! Way to make an entrance, damn..." Well, fancy demands of surrender aside, he had to wonder. Would they really take it? Surrendy didn't seem to be a word at the forefront of their vocabularies. "Heh, it'd make our jobs a whole lot easier though." He mused aloud, crossing his arms behind his head in a bored manner. "...Yeah right. It's never easy." Fragarach's voice echoed out from somewhere around him then. "You really need to stop talking to yourself so much." Raine's eye twitched.
Archer	At this point, Archer had come to realize that missions for the Union were never going to be a simple thing. Especially not ones he didn't full independence in. As usual, Rin had chosen the mission for him - a city about to come under siege... but unlike all others, the obstinate woman had decided to come along herself. Right now she was sitting cross-legged and arms folded across from the other man - someone who was actually taller then Archer, rare an instance as that was to see. She looked more like a businesswoman at a meeting instead of a mage - a sign of how much she'd grown up in the years since the Grail War. Though overall, her personality hadn't entirely changed, as she was looking at Psyber wearily. "Are you sure it's a good idea to evacuate only?." Meanwhile, Archer, looked out from the entrance of the transports. Archer was the only one here that would be fighting back... against a literal army of Confederate elites who he, for all intents and purposes, could only hope to stall while Rin and Psyber evacuated anyone and everyone who was willing to leave. In other words... it was much like the same, typically hopeless situations Archer had been forced to endure all his life. "Not much we can do if that's his choice" Archer replied, hitting the release handle for the door and filling the bay with a gust of wind as the door pulled open. "Just focus on keeping yourself alive, Rin." "Like you need to tell me that" the magus snorted, sounding more indignant then she likely meant to. "You're the one who's in the line of fire, and I'm the Master here - I should be the one telling /you/ not to get killed." "You don't need to worry about that" Archer snarked back, familiar smirk tugging at the edges of his mouth. "I'm already long dead, remember?" With that, the Red Knight stepped off the edge of the doorway and free-fell through the air, entering spirit-form as he fell to reduce gravity's pull on him. When he finished his descent, he rematerialized atop the tower, landing in a deep crouch before standing back up to survey the oncoming sights... and he quickly found the first target - an airship leading the oncoming fleets. He'd wait for them to get slightly closer before attacking though. If he did... he could try to core two ships at once, depending on their hull strength.
Duet Fortuna	It's going to be a long battle, isn't it? PURITY will have no trouble climbing up to the walls, but there ARE guards there. She chose a less-guarded spot, so only four of them are shouting, "Halt!" She's obviously not someone who is native, and they're coming after her right away. Fortunately, none are Blooded, so she should be able to handle them at least. The question is if she can handle them fast enough and quiet enough. Psyber's transport is allowed to land... and surprisingly, there are a line of refugees already. Most are civilians, but a few of the nobles are trying to push in. The more pleasant of them aren't being shoved back. It looks like a few are actually realizing that the Confederacy may not be the smartest enemy to piss off. Most, however, are 'resisting' as it turns out. It's not as hopeless to them as it seems to be to the Confeds present, after all. The battleships are their best tech, and while some are missing, two remain. What's more, they have a lot of spare ammunition... the air, after ten minutes or so to let the civilians evacuate, is filled with flak. The defenses of the city let loose a long-range bombardment, while the ships begin a volley toward Adelyn's cruisers and Madeline's ships as well. It's actually pretty heavy, but largely cannonfire and the like, with a few mystical blasts mixed in. Elliana herself is here, for once. She's actually powered up a little bit, but not so much that she changed form. She's on the flagship as well, and idly staring off into the distance. "Hm. Well, if you need my help, please let me know. I did not bring Sir Veryx this time, I am afraid."
Guest Psyber	Psyber's response to Rin is belated, but given eventually, after he's had enough time to assess the terrain of the city, "Normally, I'm all for stepping into the fray and opening up on people. But they came out in full force today, and even with my combat power and your Servant's abilities, I'm pretty sure we'd be outclassed," The half-angel heaves a bit of a helpless sigh. "I'd rather save more lives now and pick a fight later I know I can win," He says to her in a concluding sort of statement as he runs a hand through his hair, "Sucks, though, I agree," He notes to Rin, basically giving her his agreement on the situation. "People call me Psyber, by the way. Union Reserve Colonel. Come to this world, you'll probably see a lot of me," He doesn't hold out a hand to Rin or anything, keeping his greeting sort of terse. Not out of any dislike of her, but more out of the tenseness of the situation. At Madeline's proclamation, he raises a hand to cover up his eyes from the image of flames, "Tsk. At least they're being nice enough to allow evacuations and give windows of opportunity." He murmurs to himself mostly, trying to shield his view from the effects of her Solar Sorcery in all its garrish presence. The immense presence does, however, further affirm his decision not to pull back. To the refugees inside the city, Psyber reaches into his coat and takes out a flare gun. He points it straight up and fires, alighting a white sphere in the air (though nowhere near as bright as Madeline) to signal both to Archer where they are and to the refugees where they should be heading for the ones that aren't already lining up. "Time to get to work," Psyber says, hopping down off the transport, "Alright! Line up and get clocked in!" Psyber shouts down to them, heading over to the line, "First to the transport is the first IN the transport, no shoving or line-jumping." Psyber takes out a tablet PC and says, "Please write your name, your occupation, and your status as Blooded, Citizen or Slave on here. This will help the Kingdom of Taliel keep track and manage records accordingly under its own laws. Once you're catalogued, we'll get you a seat. We have plenty of room."
Purity Hopesong	Purity makes it to the top, somewhat relieved to see the lack of Blooded for now. Even if she's coming into the city to target them, she'd prefer to do that without their knowing of her presence until approximately the afterlife. While she doesn't have a flashy display of power, she'll show skill, throwing the hood of the cloak back and her arms up, as though surrendering. Aside from the bit where her hands will fly forward, each snagging a dagger, and lash out at the guards, aiming for throats and eyes in passing. Once it's clear she's not really surrendering, she'll lash out with a kick, trying to knock one guard off the wall towards the outside of the city, without the benefit of a rope. It's all very quick, but she's not the best at keeping quiet.
Guest Madeline	Incoming shells! Madeline is not worried at all, though. In another moment it's clear why, as her Technomancy takes hold and the shimmering field around each of her and Adelyn's ships activates. Projectiles are caught, pause in midair, then flung back at the same speed but with unerring accuracy. Range means nothing to the Dolorous Reflection spell, allowing the projectiles to streak back toward their targets at high speed, as if it were an answering volley, without the Empress needing to fire a shot. Some of the energy bolts do streak through and impact on the ships, blasting the decks and shuddering the warships. Smoke belches from the side of one. Madeline frowns. "Mn... more resistance than I had hoped, less than I had feared." The mecha gestures, and the fleet splits, some heading toward the more intact battleships to lay down opening volleys of their own with cannon and Essence. The others are aiming to simply crash into the docks, so that the flagship can unload its cargo, those who can't fly under their own power. The flying ship above surges forward, spewing green bolts that his and begin to melt whatever they strike, aiming for the flak cannons and air defenses. General flak seems to just bounce off its armor, whatever it is, though heavier fire from more concentrated batteries could be a problem.
Guest Madeline	Madeline is also glowing brightly like the sun, because she just spent like a dozen motes.
Lu-Mey	That oncoming hail of fire should be rather worrying right? "U-um..." Aka-hime apparently does not feel safe even in her Yoroi. And Ao-hime looks about ready to sweat. Up until they get to see Madeline's sorcery in action- the way that fire is so casually just returned to sender the way it is, almost sets Lu-Mey giggling wildly, before she snaps her fans shut. "Ahh... Okay, I think that's our cue. I'll leave you two to have fun as you like, but first, Aka-dear, a little hand." "U-uuuuu... I really-really-really don't think it's a good idea..." "Nonsense! C'mon it'll be fun!" The Oni pipes. Even Ao-hime is looking a little worried as the large mecha scoops the oni up by the waist, and reels its arm back. Before HURLING Lu-Mey through the air at breakneck speeds. "WHEEEEEE-HGUK?!" In fact it does break her neck, launching the Oni like a ragdoll through the air, arms and legs go lax as she arcs through the air, just a corpse on a course to sail over any defenses, flailing and limp, before landing in a terrible messy red splatter, still twitching in death throes. "A-ah... D... Did I overdo it?" The mech-piloting child asks of her sister. Ao-hime just shrugs helplessly. Well it's one way to get off the 'Fed ships and into the city, right?
Archer	Listening to Psyber's explanation and introduction, Rin sighs in frustration. "I know that much. That's the whole reason I'm here and Archer's not being dropped directly on their ships. Still leaves a bitter taste, though" she replies. "Jeez, now I know I'm getting too soft - usually I wouldn't have thought twice about the merits of doing the smart thing first. At this rate I'll start sounding like Emiya-Kun used to." When Psyber gives his name, she gives him a cordial smile - a sign she agrees with his method of keeping initial introductions from being too close up front. "Rin. Tohsaka Rin. Or Rin Tohsaka if you're using the western style of saying names." Seeing the fires issued up from the ships, Rin winces as she shields her face with one arm. "I don't know if I should be happy they're letting people know their intents in advance or sorry that they're going to make themselves a target." Taking the opposite side of the doorway to Psyber, Rin snorts once at the sight of some of the protesting nobles, wondering if they really did think the Confederacy would attack if they didn't think they could win. "If you think you're safe then by all means, go up to the front lines and fight them yourselves if you want. Word of warning, though - you might not want to throw your lives away unless it's actually for something that makes a difference." However, in spite of the situation, she also couldn't help but glance curiously at Psyber's tablet during the latter's process of identifying and registering the refugees, one brow raised in curiosity as something she had never gotten over in her life came up. "What is that thing, anyway? Some kind of jewel-based looking glass?" Said fact being that Tohsaka Rin was utterly hopeless with machines.
Archer	Seeing the lead ship approach, Archer's eyes narrow as he tries to gaze at something atop it. Something that worries him. Something he both doesn't know... yet finds distinctly familiar. It's a Servant - that much is certain... but it's identity is hard to discern. In fact, hardly anything is discernible about it beside the fact that it is a Servant. His bow soon appears in one hand, his eyes focusing on the vessels as reflective barriers appear around them to block the shots from the city's anti-air defenses. If any headway was going to be made, he needed to bring those shields down. And he had at least one weapon that theoretically, should work even on this strange type of barrier. Closing his eyes, his mindscape appeared before him, drawing the arrow that was cursed to pierce through defenses. A flash of prana materialized in his hand, consolidating into the shape of an elongated sword with a spiraling blade. In a swift movement, he knocked it back on his bow, the weapon warping and twisting until it more closely resembled an arrow. /"I am the bone of my sword."/ Prana flared and gather into the weapon, focusing at the tip. Mages would easily sense the magical energy flaring at the top of the tower. Other Heroic Spirits would unmistakably be able to tell he was a Servant - and his distance attacks would identify his class to them. However, that was the price of being the aggressor - one learned more about you then you did them. But he had no alternative if he wished to try and stall them from reaching the city. Aiming for one of the ships astride the lead - a move to try and open a gap in the rest of the fleet's shielding - Archer's arrow 'breaks' as it reaches it's full power- "Caladbolg!" -and takes flight, shooting through the air at mach-speeds, space warping at the point of impact to enable it to shoot through defense and ship alike. Archer can only hope it is enough.
Raine Arland	Raine watched as the initial bombardment came for them, and he whistled in appreciation. "Man, would you look at that? Guns blazing. Heh heh..." He chuckled to himself despite the impending DANGER coming straight for them... ...Only to be mostly repelled by the fleet's shields. "Oh...Oh wow. That's /really/ cool!" It was cool, but it didn't repel everything. Energy bolts were still getting through. "Heh. Alright then. Time for me to get to work!" He swung an arm out, conjuring a blade of black in a plume of red energy before hefting it onto his shoulder. But before he could make a move, he spied someone getting flung off the ship by a mecha, and stopped. ".........What?" Loading...loading...loading...error. Response not found. "Uh-well shit. Damn it, not the time. They're /probably/ okay." Probably. "Fragarach, the landing is yours!" And then Raine stepped up, one foot on the deck's guard rail. He watched and waited...waited...waited some more... "There!" He then leapt right off the side of the ship, aided by an unseen casting of wind magic that pushed him further and higher, right into the path of several energy bolts. "Here goes nothing!" The man in black pointed his sword forward, allowing the energy bolt to make contact. Now it /should/ have washed over him and probably vaporized him, but instead, the energy was /sucked into/ the blade, causing it to take on the same color and glow. "And now..." Raine turned while sailing through the air over the city for momentum, bringing the blade around. "...FOR THIS!" Coming back around, he swung, firing the same energy bolt right back to where it came from. He would repeat this for any other stray shots that came his way on his descent.
Mordred	From her perch on a ship, Mordred watches as the city opens fire; it started off looking great for the city. They were evacuating. Heeding the warnings. But then noise came from the cannons, and that was that. She's unsure if she should be disappointed or very happy. Disappointed because these people are idiots, or happy because it gives her something to do without remorse. When in doubt, grin like a madman and engage in bloodshed. Arms uncrossing, smile widening under her helmet, Mordred produces her two-handed blade, Clarent forming out of sparks of red and blue magic in one hand. Obscured as it is, its exact length and design would escape recognition for Archer. It's not that he can't identify it, more like he can, and then forgets halfway into memorizing it. It's like forgetting what you're trying to say mid-sentence. If he made a copy now, it'd be full of imperfections. But it'd be a copy anyway! One with a savage fighting style. It's probably not unlike copying a Berserker's weapon. Eyes lock onto the red-clad Archer and the almost painfully obvious Noble Phantasm incoming for a ship. It'd be a bad idea to take that in the face, for her or a ship. Clarent flares red, and Mordred launches off the ship like a rocket. Her trajectory pins her in Caladbolg's path, but she slashes moments before she would actually be able to reach it with the blade. Magic lashes out of Clarent, attempting to detonate it with a shockwave rather than an impact. And the Saber continues rocketing in a straight line-- now possibly being trailed by the rainbow-hued explosion of the arrow. It's a straight line for Archer, her sword already pulled back to slice again the moment she lands. The landing itself is going to be extremely violent, complete with crater and an impact that should turn the legs of a normal human into paste, but the sword is definitely more dangerous.
Adelyn Lysen	"Reading buildup in--" The officer's warning is slightly too late to matter. Technomancy active, Adelyn's ships are shielded--at least from physical assault. This is well and good, as the magi crewing them are more adept at dealing with incoming magic than cannonshells. The shielding wards are struck and explosions blossom over the length of each vessel, but for the heavy cruisers, little actual damage is revealed once the smoke has cleared. Arcane blasts are scattered and harmlessly discharged opposite their original path, at least if no one is standing close by when it happens. The smaller escorts have to rely on their greater maneuverability to avoid too much concenterated anti-air fire, as their shielding would otherwise be overwhelmed, but that is likely to only become a problem when there is some coordinated effort, or if this drags out. From Adelyn's perspective, there's still a lot of unpleasant shuddering when the ship is hit, and the damage is low, not nil. She doesn't have to give an order to fire--her captains each make the decision independently, and the reflected fire is further reinforced by arcane blasts, turrets swiveling and cannon discharging, again fed by a combination of magitech engine, capacitor, and mage-soldier. Active defenses are their targets, and they aren't going to worry about how much they break in the process, but they do value precision, as a general rule. Part of the bridge crew of each ship, including the escorts, are devoted to scanning for additional enemies. They have a decent chance of spotting magical weapons before they can charge up to fire, though their methods will be fairly useless against conventional guns. Adelyn still takes no personal action, instead heaving a tired sigh. Was it really an /inevitable/ fight, or just a very likely one? The narrative interpretation of events is one she instinctively rejects. These people should have no real hope of victory. Are they hiding their power, or are they just fools? "Charging, top of the tower! It's--" Both the tone and the numbers read off show a picture of greater panic than before. Curious, Adelyn focuses her sensing spells in the indicated direction. The Archer there is unmistakeable, to anyone of decent ability, as a either a magical being or a singularly powerful mage, and she's yet to see the Blooded field either. "Oho. That's new. Captain, focus on the tower." And so the lead cruiser focuses not on Archer's position, but on breaking apart the tower he's standing on. It has the weapons for battering a fortress, so it should only be a matter of how many shots it will take. Hitting the Servant would be agreeable, but isn't practical.
Duet Fortuna	Well, this is off to a great start. Purity slashes two throats, and quickly deals with the guards. Unfortunately the unfortunate guard Wilhelm falls off the city wall, and screams to his death. This alerts the guards that someone is there, but Purity will have enough time to skitter off the wall if she wants. It'll just mean they're aware that someone is in the fortified part of the city, and the Blooded are in danger. She can either try to get into the keep, or try to take care of some of the more posh and spoiled ones, if she wants. The civilians boarding get into a scuffle here and there, but once they realize the enemy is LETTING them go, the group line up well enough... even the Blooded, grudgingly. One of them starts to demand something, but his wife whispers words of wisdom in his ear, and he grumbles before being lead forward. The evacuation is going incredibly smoothly so far. Curiously so... Archer and Mordred are going at it, so they can handle their own part. Really, the amount of firepower that the ships let loose indicates that they had a decent reason to think they could stand a chance when given the first shot. The way their own firepower tears into them really shows how powerful the navy COULD be, if it hadn't been up against a powerful magi and Elder Exalt. Not to mention that what shots could get through are lessened by the fact that Raine just sends some of it back, tearing into one of the two battleships along with the returned volley. Too bad for them, but the navy is rapidly being destroyed. They're starting to charge up some guns to go against the Infernal Airship, though! A few guards are clustered around the remains of Lu-Mey, poking at her with puzzlement, but most are forming ranks at the docks, preparing to repel invaders. They have a decent commander, too, as they've set up makeshift walls to keep soldiers from storming the streets.
Guest Psyber	Psyber manages to give Rin a slight grin in return, "Tohsaka, got it," He says cordially, "I usually use Western style, but I have enough employees who use the Eastern naming system that I can adapt fairly easy once I know preference," He comments, scratching and writing on his tablet as he catalogues people while talking to her. "Oh, you know Emiya? Good kid, I guess. A bit naive, but he seems to do alright," Psyber comments absently, thinking Rin is talking about the younger one HE knows from the Union, as opposed to one from her world, "So what do you do for a living that you know him, anyway?" He asks curiously as he works. People, refugees specifically, that have skills that are MORE useful to Taliel, are marked with special red tics next to their name. He more or less echoes Nathan's overarching plan to bolster Taliel's standing in economic, military, and political arenas by marking the best refugees. That said, he's not turning anyone away, just being sure to catch the people with the most useful skills to forward on to Nathan for his own political agenda. "Oh this?" He asks, pointing to the tablet, "It's a tablet PC. Computer. I've started using one on Union business. It's like a... pad of paper that you can write on and keep track of things, I guess is the easiest way to put it?" He gives Rin a strange look. Someone of her age and outfit SHOULD know what a tablet is, in his mind, so he finds it a bit strange she asked. "Makes it easier to track things."
Purity Hopesong	Purity doesn't really seem too terribly bothered by having given up that alert, though she will be quite quick about placing the rope and grappling hook on the other side, pulling herself together long enough to climb down, almost but not quite at a freefall. Once she's landed, she'll look about. She'd just been asked to kill Blooded, and while the keep looks like it would have the most important Blooded, the most important ones are also the ones that might cave her face in. Purity still has enough presence of mind to prefer to avoid that, particularly with the number of guards likely to be in the keep. No, she'll be quite fine with sticking some piggy Blooded, making certain the hood is firmly in place to disguise her nature for a moment or two while she looks for some softer targets. This might draw out some of the people from the keep, but she's also fine with just assassinating Blooded until the fighting ends.
Archer	Any moment of satisfaction is cut off by the sight of the Servant taking to the air - or rather, falling in a controlled, explosion-assisted trajectory for him. Coming from the ships are trails of incoming shots. Either one will destroy the tower - both will obliterate it. Biting back a curse, Archer's prana focuses into his legs through Reinforcement, springing straight upwards off of the tower, into the air and over the Servant's attack, leaving it directly beneath him. He can't tell who of what it is, but the fact that it's a Servant is all that's important... as well as the fact that it's wielding a blade A Saber. The enemy Servant was a Saber-Class. That was bad. Saber-Class tended to have prominent Magic Resistance. For a Servant who's powers were based on magecraft from his days in life, that was bad for him. Worse was that the Saber had something hiding their identity; the most Archer could tell was that it was some kind of knight, but identifying marks - decals, detail-work and even coloring - were blurred. Almost like he kept forgetting them as soon as he saw them. hat was going to complicate things. Aiming directly below him at the Servant, Archer quickly shot a barrage of nameless arrows at it from his mid-air position - while each has the force of a small grenade, such power isn't lethal to most of the more powerful Servants. Sadly, he didn't have the time to trace a Noble Phantasm or stronger arrow at that moment. much less charge such a weapon. The arrows fly for and around the Saber, but striking her down with them isn't possible - but then again, that's not Archer's plan. He is stalling for time - hoping that the shots from the ships will collapse the tower and deal with her themselves. All he is trying to do is keep her pinned down until the building, already crumbling from the Servant's own impact, collapses under it's feet and buries it. That would hopefully buy him a minute to trace another Caladbolg to fire at the ships. He wanted to at least bring down one so as to make evacuation efforts outside Psyber's own more smooth. Of course, firing such an arrow while he was still airborne would likely propel him into the ground at high-speed from the kickback... but he would cross that bridge when he was sure there /wouldn't/ be a broadsword trying to chop him in half when he tried.
Lu-Mey	Lu-Mey is, literally, a sick red mess. No better than a sack of skin full of red paste and broken bones, blood everywhere. It's probably terrible enough to make the faint of heart ill. And then it gets terrible enough to make even the strongest wills sick. Squirming, writhing, wriggling figures can be seen, making torn skin crawl and shredded muscles tense and twitch. The guards poking the nasty mess of a corpse get to see in full detail the way bones POP as they break further before knitting back together properly, muscle matter and flesh sliding in unnatural ways before everything broken becomes as one, and after a moment Lu-Mey is standing in their midst, drawing a slow breath and adjusting her gore-soaked dress. "Aaaaatatata... Ow ow ow that wasn't the most graceful landing was it? Ara... You all saw that little pratfall didn't you...? I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you gentlement to never speak of this..." Murmured darkly as the horned woman puts on a warm smile. But there's no warmth behind it. Simply mirthless killer intent as her body shifts again. Flashing a wicked, shark-toothed, grin a pair of antennae sprout from her forehead on either side of her horn, quickly drawing in a gossamer-like light into the Oni's body and rapidly reconstructing her on a genetic level. That slender and lithe figure bulks with muscle, dusky skin hardens into steel-like chitin, every finger and toe sharpening into a murderous length of claws, as her spine erupts into a long a bladed tail. It is with a sudden, shrill, "SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" of murderous intent that the Demon of Battle hurls itself into the masses, cackling with inhuman and intelligent glee as it unleashes a torrent of horrifyingly corrosive green bile, belched up from its gut in a hosing stream.
Guest Madeline	Caladbolg gets intercepted, but despite the spell's protection, the shockwave easily gets through. It wasn't designed to shield against things like that, and the ship rocks with the impact of the wave, and several deck hands are shouting for help. That did some damage, enough to make Madeline frown in annoyance. Oh well. Time to do something useful. The demonic craft is taking fire and returning fire, with silvery streaks of fluid leaking now as it swoops past an emplacement and launches more acid. It's taking damage, but without a Blooded attacking, it's probably not going to be stopped. Madeline has other plans anyway. Her burning image is still above her, still transmitting everything she says or shouts. Things like... mental compulsions. She begins to /sing/ in an ancient language, a lovely song that is flowing and melodic. To avoid lots of lyrics that are glowing yellow text, the summary simply reminds the people of their oppression of countless years, of the insanity of the Windward Empire, of the promise of a new life if they merely aid her in securing this city. She is, in short, trying to make the general population adore her, while simultaneously declaring the ruling class to be enemies of creation itself. Her various captains seem competent in finding places to land and setting up emplacements, so that her smaller Warstriders can march on outward.
Raine Arland	Raine's efforts mostly paid off, but considering that he couldn't fly, gravity slowly won the battle between him and the ground. No matter how much Fragarach's magic delayed his landing, he would have to land eventually. "Ahhh, that's the last of it for me." He mumbled, watching as Mordred rocketed off towards what was presumably another enemy in the distance. Oh well, not his battle. He turned in the air, tucking forward into a flip before landing roughly onto the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust. Thank god Fragarach's wind magic softened the landing or he might have broken his legs. Reckless idiot. A piercing SKREEEE broke Raine out of his mild reverie however. "What the-" He looked aside, to find... "Oh." Pause. "....Oh." All he could do was watch as Lu-Mey, now a horrible bug monster, tore into the soldiers that were previously prodding at her. "--Holy crap you're alive!" Was all Raine could utter before remembering that they were in a high stakes situation. "Right. Okay, mission first. Surprise later." With blade held aside, the man in black dove forward, join the fray with aforementioned bug monster. Let's just hope she didn't eat allies. Yeah.
Mordred	Luckily for Archer, he's actually not quite on the nose about the Saber. It doesn't seem like her Magic Resistance is halting the prana arrows wholesale; a few of the purely magical arrows punch through the sphere around Mordred, nicking and denting her armor, tearing cloth in an exposed joint even. The red Servant's goal wasn't to harm her though, and that plays in her favor on that angle. On the other hand, the tower gives way. The Saber's landing crushes wood and stone into dust, while Archer has long since launched himself up and above the structure. Mordred's landing is more akin to plowing right through the tower and coming out the other side through the wall, really. And then slamming down another rooftop, which gives way under both her weight and the still significant momentum. She rumbles in anger, now infuriated more than enjoying combat. Why did she expect an Archer to fight her in close combat? An immense chunk of stone, perhaps a piece of the tower or of the house she just landed on, is lifted above the Saber's head in a momentary burst of power, and hurled straight for Archer. He might recognize the tell-tale signs of a very high rank Prana Burst skill, red magic infused in the rock and ready to blow on impact; then again, he might have already guessed that much from how the Servant made a single bound from a ship to his tower like a rocket. Mordred trails behind the stone, bursting out of the house and leaping to stand atop what is now left of the tower. "Come on, bowman! Surely you can do better than run! We don't get summoned around to have picnics and pick flowers, show me with what you'll win your master a wish!" Battle-frenzy obtained. Acquire challenge, disregard all other objectives.
Archer	Rin tilts her head in interest when he knows of the Eastern naming system, implying he came from one of the alternate Earths that must exist in the Multiverse. However, that was quickly buried underneath a literal mountain's worth of shock when Psyber replies that he knew Emiya. "H-huh?? You know Emiya? Emiya Shirou? W-wait - hold on." She forced herself to remember that this wasn't even her world - different rules applied. "Are you talking about /my/ Emiya Shirou or a different one - from your world or another?" .... then a few seconds passed before she realized the double meaning that could be taken from her words, half-muttering a flustered curse. "No, wait - I don't mean that he's mine when I said that! I'd never in a million years be-oh, damn it!" "Taking a breath, Rin forced herself to calm back down, working to get over her surprise. "Sorry. That just surprised me - I didn't know Emiya-k - er, Shirou was part of the Union... or rather, /a/ Shirou was" she replied, tripping over calling him 'Kun' again due it normally being an term of endearment for close family or lover - and Shirou was definitely /just/ family. "But I don't think we're talking about the same Shirou. The one in my world isn't involved in my line of work - he's actually my sister's boyfriend. You might actually know her; Matou Sakura?" When Psyber reveals what the device in his hand is, she looks almost flabbergasted. "W-that's a computer?? How the heck can that be possible - I thought computers were these big bulky block-like casings that needed a mess of parts just to work right? 'Modems', right?" Her ignorance on the matter of technology is rather clear as she looks at the device they way a regular person would look at a demonic artifact of unnatural power - with curiosity and masked apprehension. "It looks more like a scrying glass" she dismissed offhandedly. Then the otherworldly singing starts playing throughout the area, and Rin curses as she practically /tastes/ the magic laced into the words. Throwing up her hand, a series of small jewels fly into the air before coming alive and forming into a dome-like barrier around the immediate area - though it's not big enough to protect all the refugees. "That music's some kind of charm! She's trying to hypnotize the population - I don't think we're going to get many others outside what's already here at this rate!"
Adelyn Lysen	"Support the landing." "Aye, ma'am." That's all it takes. They haven't had a real war in awhile, but they're well trained, and there's some justification to the pride they take in themselves. The air cruisers move over the city while continuing to exchange fire with the dwindling navy of the defense, but the positions they take aren't to do any more than provide clear lines of fire against anything that might threaten the Third Fleet's landed forces. Communications officers get to work on the task of coordinating with the ground troops to provide continual aerial surveillance and make good use of their bombardment ability, fistly to avoid friendly fire and secondly to hit whatever's awkward from a lower vantage. This isn't without cost, as the cruisers are not focusing so much on defending themselves, but with the reduced defenses, they can likely hold out without even one of them being crippled, at least at the rate it's currently going. The escort craft are less certain, but they're also more expendable. Adelyn, meanwhile, is taking to the air, a simple flight spell active, the Wind holding her aloft. Archer is still a threat to her ships, and the ships can't effectively target something that small. She can. The streaking missiles of pure Arcane seem to have minds of their own--clever ones, at that--as they wink into existence around her at her outstretched hand, and home in on their target. She's aware that Mordred won't like this, but giving an ear to Mordred's whims isn't something she's at all in the mood for.
Duet Fortuna	Some of the nobles in the refugees start to raise a fuss. "If we let them take over, what will we be?" They are largely outnumbered though... and the fact that they're being defended so readily, even by the commoners, actually shuts them up. Because the non-Blooded refugees are not immediately beating them down. This is a good group, all-told. Purity barely avoids some more guards, but despite the alert most are a little more concerned with the giant flaming apparition in the harbor, not to mention the fact that there's some sort of giant trail of explosions and crumbling buildings is at one corner, and the jewels of the Navy are being soundly defeated. Thus Purity quickly finds some of the Blooded clustered together, preparing to seek shelter in the keep. Only one of them is armed, but the way they're in formation seems to indicate that the four are at least worthy of battle, just not prepared for it. A canny approach could take out all four, but if they all turn on her it could be a problem. Lu-Mey leaps up and startles the soldiers, who whip their spears up. They are just normal soldiers, though, and the Demon of Battle is more than they're ready for. All but one of them are screaming and melting. The single remaining one is trying to stab desperately, but he won't last long. Two more are headed for Raine, and they look pretty good, their spears fast and agile. They, however, lack supernatural abilities, so while they are not pushovers they are not a huge threat. As for Raine and the troops, they surge forward easily... partly because the defenders are starting to fight amongs themselves, with some declaring their undying loyalty to the RADIANT EMPRESS and the others shouting FOR THE EMPEROR or similar things. The chaos that has erupted is pretty wild now, but it makes it easy to advance, and there's trouble in the keep now, too. Elliana herself has started to get involved, taking to the air and starting to blast the air defense emplacements, to keep cover on the demonic ship. Otherwise she's staying out of the big melee, however.
Archer	Seeing the enemy ships rock from the impact of his attack helped boost his confidence a bit that he could forestall her. However, the charm in the air made Archer wince at the feel of the magic behind it - it felt similar to the atmosphere of his war's Rider - the Gorgon Medusa - with her Blood Fort bounded field; it was meant to try and compel people into a state that made it easy to manipulate them... though in Medusa's case, it was to kill them for prana. This was just meant to render them subservient. To make matters worse, it had become a twofold battle for him as someone /else/ joins in on the fight - a mage it seemed. He'd been busy tracing Caladbolg. He didn't have the time to trace enough nameless blades to block those shots. ... but he didn't have to, did he? The Saber proved that much. As Caladbolg forms in his hand, Archer knocks it back in mid-air, pulling it taunt as energy flows into it. He aims for the ships again - his intent is to try and punch a hole through it. Try to disrupt that singing - even if he fails to hit the ships, the explosion alone might cause some form of disruption. Enough to at least get the singer pissed off enough to focus more on him then the people, letting them escape. The downside was that with three people breathing down his neck, it would be suicide. But that had been his whole life - and after that, it had been his whole existence. No point changing that now. "Caladbolg!" The arrow is released, streaking for the ships - though whether it gets past the barriers, or even past that incoming mage, was yet to be seen. As expected, the kickback propelled the Servant backwards through the air like a bullet - towards one of the buildings. The stone slab overshot him, and Archer hoped the mage would be hit by it instead before she could stop Caladbolg, sim a chance as it was. The Saber would in turn hopefully be hit by the homing shots before they had a chance to change course and follow him. Then, Archer impacted the building - and went through it into another - upon landing, feeling some of his bones crack even with reinforcement, leaving him winded for the immediate moment as he forced himself to try and see if his gambit had had /any/ effect at least.
Guest Psyber	"Yeah, I know him. Kind of naive and stuff, but he's an alright guy," Psyber comments, before it occurs to him, "Oh. I guess probably not from your world..." He sorta trails off, watching Rin as she talks her foot into her mouth a bit and then nodding his head gently. He'll patiently wait out the storm before saying, "Yeah. You can probably find him on the factional chatter band some time," He notes in relation to Shirou's presence in the Union. "Uuuuuuh, never heard of a Matou Sakura," He admits. He knew a Tohsaka Sakura related to a younger version of this Rin, but after her reaction to Shirou he elects to keep that information in his pocket for later. Instead, he moves on to talk about the computer, "Naw. Once the world hits around 2015, people start carrying computers in their pockets and stuff," He notes to Rin, pulling out his business cell phone as if to emphasize his point, "It does look sorta scry-y, though, I admit. With the big touch screen and all," He gives her that part of her argument. "Hey. Calm down and wait your turn. You can either come to Taliel or go back to the city. Your choice here," Psyber notes to the Blooded that start to get particularly uppity or complain-y, "Everyone's gonna get to plead their case to the Princess and she will judge accordingly," He assures the Blooded before Rin's callout makes his attention. "Shit, you're right. I don't have anyone with Anti-Magic with me today," He scowls at the barrier around them and the singing form of the Exalt, "We should gather up troops and pull out." Psyber turns back to the crowd, "Everyone in! Now!" He turns to head back toward the interior of the ship, glad for Rin's barrier since he doesn't want to test his mental resilience against an Exalt today.
Lu-Mey	Ah look at that carnage. The burn-stink of melting flesh, the screams of the dead and dying, the smell of sulfur and blood. It is the perfect stage for Lu-Mey's performance of death and blood, the terrible insectoid beast rearing up a bit and cocking head as though to survey its handiwork, and almost curiously peer at the desperate man stabbing at her. With a wet bloody sound, his weapon finds a space in chitin, biting deep and drawing blood, earning a hiss of pain. Unless he gets away from her she almost casually reaches down. It's so simple really. To squeeze a man's skull until it pops like an old watermelon, before she glances back up. "My my..." Chittered, voice clicking and guttural. "Aren't they having all the fun." Tittered at the sight of the men turning on each other thanks to Madeline's siren song sorceries. "It's almost like I'm not even needed here anymore~." Not that this is going to stop her from indulging in her casual sense of mayhem.
Purity Hopesong	Purity certainly won't object to the distractions; even with the cloak, she has a hard time looking anything other than sinister. She'll move to work her way behind the Blooded, trying to avoid any confrontation until she has to have it, arms folded behind her back as her hands work to prepare. Once she's ready, both hands will be driving forward once more, aiming for the obviously armed one, trying to plunge daggers at the back of that one's neck and through it. Purity herself will step towards the Blooded closest to her, trying to bury blades that are now attached to the stumps of her arms through the back of that one, disrupting the formation. The goal will be to follow through and continue to strike at the other two; it is possible that she will, if unsuccessful in her attempt to surprise attack the first pair, be left in some degree of trouble.
Mordred	Things do not seem to be going very well for Mordred. The Archer is fast, and perhaps unfortunately clever too. But that makes Mordred overall far, far less angry than Adelyn's contribution. It tells of two things: 1. Distrust in Mordred's ability to keep Archer contained. 2. Disregard for Mordred's request. Flames flare around Mordred, forming wings on her back, and she actually hurls herself between Archer and the incoming bolts of her own free will, without the other Servant even needing to play the homing bolts up. The attack crashes into the sphere of hexagons around the Servant, Magic Resistance momentarily spiking up to take the bolts. They penetrate, for the most part, slamming into the armor of the Saber and knocking her back a foot or two. Then she roars, in a definitely inhuman voice. Her helmet splits open, slamming down onto her armor. Her traits unhide, her features define themselves. She extends a hand out towards the second Caladbolg shot, her blade pointed at it, as pieces of buildings and assorted junk animate themselves, coated in flames, rising up suddenly to intercept the arrow. But more than that, Clarent unleashes a straight bolt of red lightning towards it too. Again, it's a gamble on whether or not the junk and ranged attack is a suitable obstacle that'll prematurely detonate the arrow, or if it'll just plow right through. At the Servant's position, the Lord of Rage seeps out, slowly. An aura of anger spreads to the streets below, inciting blind rage in those caught within it and without the willpower to resist. The Saber's stare angles up, at Adelyn and her ships. She takes a stance, grasping Clarent with both hands. The blade seems to move, the beautiful silver weapon warping and turning red under a sudden torrent of blood from the ground below. The light is bright crimson, easily able to illuminate the naval fortifications as a whole. The amount of magic gathering in the blade is pretty significant-- to Archer's eye, a step below Excalibur, and definitely not the same purity. This isn't a blade that draws wishes into itself, this is pure anger turning into magic, like a vortex of blood around the sword. And from the looks of it, she's going to fire at Adelyn and her fleet.
Duet Fortuna	That's not good. Elliana can /feel/ the surge in prana draw, and Mordred shouldn't need that much to keep Archer occupied. Did she intend to kill the Servant? Elliana doesn't have a /problem/ with that, but it wasn't in her plans for the day. It's enough to get her to look over and see what's going on... and the huge clusterfuck that's about to start. "SABER!" Her voice isn't as amplified as Madeline's, but it's clearly heard even across the city, at this height and with her own powers. "STOP! Focus on your enemy, not your ally. Keep the aggression to the Servant." To Adelyn, "Saber can handle this alone, worry not." The power behind those words was unmistakable, when she addressed Mordred. The faint 'thrum' of a Command Spell being used.
Archer	"Heh - yeah, that's Shirou alright" Rin chuckled, somewhat glad to see that some things never changed, even if almost everything else around her did. "Ah - I see" Rin replies when Psyber says he doesn't know Sakura. "If you're not from a similar world to ours, I guess that makes sense." After a moment, she blinks as something else comes to mind. "Oh, you're probably wondering why I said she's my sister even though her name's different. See, Matou's not her real name - she... well, my father gave her up for adoption to another family of magi." In spite of herself, Rin found herself hesitating at this part. Even four years after finding out the full truth about it, she still hadn't come to full terms with what her father had done to their family by giving Sakura away. "She's my little sister." "I've seen things /kind/ of like this before in stores... but I didn't know they lit up like this. The panels were always black - they looked more like coasters to me" At the description of mobile devices in general, she scrunches up her nose in apparent distaste, scoffing openly. "I don't understand devices like that - I don't care what people like Lord El-Melloi say, scrying glasses are more efficient. Besides, at least they don't /explode/ and /scream/ flash lines of gibberish at you if you press just one damn button wrong." This in turn likely would convince Psyber to /never/ give Tohsaka his tablet. When Psyber gives his order to retreat, Rin nods. "We'll have to hurry though - I don't want to wait for the city guards to turn on us. If the soldiers manning those flak guns are under her spell and told to fire o us..." she leaves the sentence unfinished, the implication bad enough as it is. "I have a few gems that can detonate like a smokescreen if I charge them with enough energy, but I'm more worried about this ship - is it going to be tough enough to hold up if we're shot at?" Either way, Rin focuses on helping the civilians get seated, ensuring that as many as possible won't get jarred around too much by what she is starting to assume will be a rough ride. Then she feels the wave of concern over her link with Archer, and her concern is now spread to more then just the evacuees.
Guest Madeline	Madeline definitely doesn't want an /intact/ Caladbolg hitting her flagship. It would probably /survive/, but it would be in drydock for months getting repaired. Unpleasant for her, to say the least. She'd much rather tank it herself, her Warstrider far more capable of taking it... even if she isn't sure just how much damage it will do. When Mordred 'intercepts' this one, it's quite a relief, but the shockwave is stronger this time. The Radiant Princess steps forward, landing lightly on the water and standing upon it, the glowing Exalt flaring with light as she raises her arms to block the shockwave. Alarms go off inside and minor parts are sheared off, and the shudder of the Exalt's frame is something she feels even in the pilot's seat. The damage is relatively minor, but it makes her glad she wasn't forced to tank the actual arrow. "Damage report," she requests calmly, the song finally fading from above. Readouts start to play while the army surges inward, making the most of the situation with the chaos there.
Adelyn Lysen	What Adelyn sees first is Mordred taking her hits. That took some effort, since they were homing on a target that wasn't her. She would deal with that immediately, but Archer is taking advantage of the opening to fire a second arrow-shaped sword. Her mind works very quickly. Is her magic stronger than Archer's? Probable. Can she take that hit? No. Despite reports of his sword skill (if this is, indeed, the same Archer) she expects his field to be long-ranged combat using his present weapon. The earlier hit sufficed for a demonstration of the weapon's power. Adelyn is a generalist, and does not hope to win against a specialist via brute force. If this proves to be overly cautious, at least she'll live long enough to correct her estimates. The shot goes through without interference from her, guaranteed by unfortunate circumstance of rage-induced betrayal. She can hardly take her eyes off Clarent at this point, though her fingers are rapidly drawing designs in the air to do something about the problem. Elliana heads off the matter before either she or Saber finish. The archmage gives a frown, but holds off on further provocation of what is, in her eyes, a mad animal. The situation is unfortunately suboptimal, at least Madeline has suffered what seems only a minor loss in immediate capability. With a wary look toward both Servants, her magic scatters uncast, ordered mana returning to natural chaos, and she veers off.
Mordred	The absolute order sinks in. Mordred wrestles her body free of the Shajem of Rage, though to call her expression anything below anger is an understatement. The colossal build-up of energy-- never actually fires. It starts diminishing, but it does need to go somewhere. The Saber lands on the ground, no longer kept airborne by fiery wings. She glares at Archer, but to his respite, Elliana's WORDS were very precise. Focus on your enemy. She didn't say which. The blonde Servant's blade swings, and in a wide arc, releases a half-built blast of red light and lightning-- towards remaining fortifications and defenses, not towards Archer. It's not fully charged, though it'll probably raze anything on its way to the defenses anyway. Mordred takes a moment to lower her sword, take a deep, calming breath in, and then departs in the direction of her blast, still looking irritated to all hell. It's probably best not to follow her and let her go wail on walls.
Duet Fortuna	Purity's quick stabbing halves the Blooded right then and there, dropping them both. As the blade clatters to the ground, one of the two remaining ones is turning around. "Wha... Assassin!" No, not the servant, just the concept. At least that's the thought. He's flinging his hand up, sending out a wave of force. It's not hugely strong, without any preparation... but it also leaves him undefended from the floating hands. "Huh?" His companion glances back, still not quite ready to fight. This is also the last CLUSTER of Blooded outside the Keep. The only real threats. oops.
Purity Hopesong	The wave of force is going to knock Purity back a step, keeping her from just cutting down that particular Blooded with the knives on her arms. Instead, the hands will pull their blades from the deceased, slashing over point first, attempting to embed themselves into his chest. Hopefully, that'll draw the last one's attention long enough for Purity's final blow to land, the mercenary starting to look a little winded from her extensive use and abuse of her power, or possibly just from all the climbing up and down of major walls. If she's successful, naturally she's going to loot the bodies of anything valuable. Otherwise, she's going to keep with the stab-attempts.
Raine Arland	Raine cut his way through those who attacked, making a beeline forward towards the heaviest defenses. That could only be the point which would have been most prudent to conquer. "Man...everyone's going crazy all of a sudden." He sighed, blade hefted onto his shoulder casually. "People turning on each other on both sides...like I walked right into a god damn soap opera." A sigh followed. And then another slash. He wasn't particularly showing off, just keeping it moving. No showboating, no obvious displays to draw attention to himself. Just find the most important looking spot and go to work. But were things really ever that easy?
Archer	The world freezes. All around him, everything suddenly fades from Archer's perception the moment the Saber - ironically another 'Red Knight' - finally sheds the distortion that cloaked it. Or rather, cloaked /her/, as her helmet broke apart and retracted into her armor. And in doing so, revealed a face that had had been engraved in Archer's soul for almost as long as he could remember. The same face. His breath stopped. Memories tore their way back to the surface after centuries of having been buried under years of blood and steel - /I ask of you... are you my Master?/ And just as quickly, it was gone again, and Archer was back in the world again, staring at the Servant of the Sword. It wasn't her. It was almost disturbingly close... but it wasn't her. The armor was heavier, styled blood-red. Her face, on inspection, was actually slightly younger, and her hair was haphazardly done in a ponytail. The biggest difference was the eyes, though. Instead of being calm and serene, this Saber's eyes almost /bled/ pure rage and fiery determination. The he sees the answer - her blade, which is no longer obscured, quickly becoming recorded into the hill of swords... And when it does, he is left shocked at it's story - and it's tie to his and /hers/. Clarent - the blade wielded by the bastard child of Arturia Pendragon; Mordred. Her child. A homunculus child, but her child nonetheless. And now she'd been ordered to attack him. The feeling Archer felt when he heard the Confederate Elliana's voice - the revelation that she must have been Mordred's Master - made him curse. The sight of her exhibiting Caster-level powers almost made him just resign himself to an inevitable death. But when she instead shot the power of her blade - a mass of power rivaling Excalibur but of an opposite nature - at the ramparts instead of him, he looked at her in confusion, wondering why she had decided not to attack. So when she turned to leave, he decided to send her a message. Pouring in as much prana as Rin's reserves would let him take, Archer traced a blade - the blade he'd just seen - which hovered in mid-air for a moment before he shot it forward at her. It wasn't really meant to kill her. It wasn't even certain to hit. It was just to get her attention. The next instant, the powerless replica of Clarent shot forward, embedding itself in the ground ahead of Mordred like a gravestone - or a marker post. More then adequate, given that it was a message in and of itself. 'You and I are going to meet again... and I'll have questions for you the same as you now will for me.'
Duet Fortuna	The refugees are not stupid, or they wouldn't have come to the ship. They're sitting down quickly and even the unruly nobles are shutting up and getting settled. They don't want to be here any more than the others. The ship isn't under fire by any of the city troops, at least, but that might be because most of the anti-air emplacements are gone anyway. Cleaning up the remnants is getting pretty easy, and even the loyalists are starting to surrender now. The invading fleet has utterly dominated theres, civil war is on their doorstep, and someone is murdering nobles right in the noble quarter. Speaking of which, the last two fall with a gurgle as the hands stab one in the back, and the other is relatively helpless to be cut down. To the Blooded, it's a pincer attack. Someone is out there killing them, and... there's nowhere to go. The flag lowers, and the white flag of surrender reels upward above. "That's enough, Saber," Elliana says. She alights nearby, apparently not noticing Archer... or not caring. Or, more likely, noticing and pretending not to care. Or caring and pretending not to notice. Or... You know what, let's just call this a day. "I think it is over."
Mordred	The blade stops the Servant from pursuing what's directly in front of her; she'd already seen one person copy Clarent with magecraft, seeing a second doesn't cause her quite the same amount of offense and semi-alarm as the first time. She'd also seen Sieg do really awful Projection, too, but not of Clarent. His was... bigger? Longer, rather, not bigger. More a claymore than a huge bastard sword. It didn't really fit his build at all. She turns to stare at Archer, but before she can speak, her master tells her to leave. Her frown intensifies, and she just answers the red-clad Servant (if he's even still there; he may have chosen to leave dramatically!) with: "Another time." Her voice does sound different, but barely. It's a nudge younger. A year, maybe. And she certainly doesn't carry half of the royal air her father does. Another time, though. Sure. She'll look forward to it. With that, the Servant dissipates in a trail of red and blue magical sparkles and wisps, which fly off into the air. Not that it'd fool Archer, since he knows what turning incorporeal is. Saber's presence leaves the area, moving back to Elliana's side.
Guest Psyber	Psyber nods his head to Rin, turning away and starting to make his way back towards the ship, "Ah, that explains it. Little sister. Can't say I ever met yours, but I can imagine that they'd make a decent couple," Psyber notes as he thinks about it, pushing back the gnawing memory of the other iteration of her sister he'd met and tried to help. "Some people get tech, some people don't. It's not that big of a deal, you're probably majorly skilled in your own areas," Psyber notes to her as he starts to walk back towards the airship, "I don't think they'll turn their guns on us, we're marked as a non-com ship, so they'd be breaking some major mutual agreements if they shot at it, but we can't be too safe," Psyber notes. He's forced to stop, though, midway back around to the front of the ship while Rin works in the back. He stumbles in his footing a bit as a vision comes over him unrelated to the scene at hand and rather poorly timed. A hand clutches at his temple as he is forced to veer sideways and connect his shoulder with the side of the vessel for support until he can push down the vision of Kalameet. "Tsk. It chooses now of all times to place its challenge." He sighs and looks around, reaching to the inside of his jacket to grab a flask before tilting it backwards and taking a long drink. He puts said flask back into his jacket and then hops into the front of the vessel, shouting to the pilot, "We're wheels up! Load and go!" Those in the back may feel a rumbling and swaying as the ship starts to get airborne and head to evacuate its passengers.
Raine Arland	Raine skid to a stop. "Well, there's the white flag." He muttered, letting his sword disperse as he crossed his arms. "...Welp." His arms move to cross behind his head at that, in a lazy, careless fashion. "Right then." He took one look longer, then turned around and proceeded to retreat by way of walking off casually. "That's that then."
Archer	Watching the Saber - Mordred - turn to stare at him, Archer's reinforced eyes let him read her lips to see her effective promise to face him again. Unlike he normally would, he doesn't give a sarcastic smirk or some such form of prodding - he stays serious and simply holds his gaze at her until she leaves. She hadn't reacted to his tracing Clarent with much surprise though, which worried him as he figured it meant she'd met the Emiya Shirou who was with the Union. He'd considered tracing Caliburn to show her, but he figured that would have been tipping his hand - if this Mordred was anything like the historical one, gender notwithstanding, then he was better suited keeping that particular blade hidden for when he truly needed it... and in all honesty, Mordred might be the person he'd have to bring it against. With that done, Archer turns his attention to something more immediately important - namely the fact that his left arm was rather badly injured. Several holes had been punctured in the sleeve where debris had pierced into his skin, though they had since been pushed out by swords forming under the skin to seal the wounds. In addition, at least two, maybe three of his ribs had been badly cracked by the impact with the building, with swords stitching them together to keep them from breaking entirely. He couldn't have fought her like this. If she was anything like her 'father'... he would't last in frontal combat. Hell, even at his best there was no guarantee he could win against a Saber, let alone one related to the person he held up as the benchmark for what made the perfect swordsman. 'Rin... I'm done here. I stalled the main force as best I could, but there's no stopping them now. I'll meet up with you back home' The astral message delivered, Archer turns and walks back across the ruined level of the building he crashed into, fading from sight as he enters his astral form... all the while wondering something to himself. First Emiya Shirou... and now the child of the King of Knights. Given that pattern... did that mean that, somewhere out there... /she/ was out here, too? Either way... Archer now found he had a personal goal to fulfill once more. And the first thing to do was start searching the Union's shared archives and actually bother to see who all was in it.