Gilgamesh: WORLD TOUR Part 5 - The Search For More Money

[sirusavi]

Who: Gilgamesh | Luke fon Fabre, Radiant Dynamo of Invention (Disguised as Tepet Lisara), Dizzy, Tepet Inatera, Bleak and Beautiful Nightmare, Cathak Lera, Ascendant Raptor, White Gale, Ashen Mist, Taskmaster, White Gale (Boy, that's a lot of mongrels)
Where: Creation, Blessed Isle, Imperial City
What: After learning of Creation from Dynamo, the King of Heroes finally decides to pay the place a visit. Finding no Orichalcum in plane sight, he reasons that they must keep it in the treasury..and how else to obtain than by simply walking through? Oh, and Saber might be here, too.



The sun was setting over the Imperial City, and with it the streets surged with a final crest of activity before many would likely begin to retreat to their abodes. Dynast and patrician alike conducted what business or social matters they could while daylight still gleamed above, the sky changing in hue to a dull orange as the burning celestial body indifferently descended towards the horizon. Currently unbeknownst to all, a scarlet pair of eyes bore witness to the daily proceedings with a minimum amount of interest. A child might watch an ant hill with more excitement than the King of Heroes mustered for the heart of the Realm.
Hm.
So, this was the land that strange woman in the hub had mentioned to him. 'Creation' as it were, the apparent source of the finery she'd bore on her person. That gold-like metal was certainly worthy of his possession...but he had yet to glimpse even a hint of it in the supposed capital of this land, a fact that only added to his considerable consternation over the continuing search for his bride.
He -had-, however, seen plenty of other things he did not care for.
Although even the enhanced vision of an Archer-class servant could glimpse only the barest fraction of this tiny portion of Creation the Golden King had already seen enough to write off the entire world in his own self-proclaimed fashion. Decadence, excess and all the vile disgraces he'd found heaped upon humanity in his own world fostered in spades among the silk-clad fops and charlatans of this foreign city. He hadn't expected any different, but a regal sense of displeasure overcame him nonetheless (helped not at all by the aforementioned setbacks). From the slanted roof of the pagoda upon which he spied in spirit form, an armored fist clenched. He was beginning to believe he had wasted his time.
Oh well, an ant hill was at least a bit entertaining to watch after you kicked it.
Transitioning seamlessly into the visible spectrum, Gilgamesh drops from his position and walks with all the strident purpose of a Monarch through the crowd, head held high. With his resplendent golden armor and other affectations, he'd certainly look the part of some who'd have to be crazy to set foot in the seat of Dynastic power so. Set directly for what he's surmised to be the city's palace (The Imperial Manse, in other words), his aim is simple: Anything of value must be stored in the treasury. He would not sneak in like some base burglar, but crack it open and take the spoils like a proper king. As one who had owned all the world's treasures in his own life, it was not a difficult leap of logic for the first king of man to view the horde of Creation as already in his possession.

Luke shouldn't probably be here, but he is anyway. He's never really heard anything /good/ about Creation, but apparently Ms. Tegawa thought there was something worthwhile for him to learn about here (and he was dubious about what that is, as neither drugs, sex nor showing off superpowered skills were to his tastes), so he's on the Blessed Isle, mildly irritated that he can't find a meat on a stick vendor that sells recognizable meat.
But he's nooowhere near the imperial palace, no way in hell. Not yet anyway. That's probably going to change sooner or later, as Gilgamesh's idea of subtlety seemed to involve having his armor slightly less polished than usual. Until then blissful ignorance is /fantastic/, and the quest continues. Murmurs rippling through the area of some stranger walking around like he owned the place?
Irrelevant to the young heir's interests. Food on a stick, on the other hand..

Over the past several months, Dizzy has been coming to Creation with a sort of regularity; first to help deal with the previous disasters of the Locust invasions in Gem, then the rebuilding effort--these two things as part of her membership in the Relief Society--and finally because she rather liked the place. Of course, she's had to be rather careful about her nonhuman heritage, but such is the price for moving about freely in some planes. The girl has become used to it.
On this fine day, Dizzy is visiting the Imperial City, visiting some people she befriended in the past, but some ways from the Imperial Manse itself. Though she would dearly love to see it, it's not a place that an offworlder would have easy access to, would it? No, she is simply completing her visit, dropping off a batch of her cookies (because she must bring cookies wherever she visits) and is proceeding to take a leisurely stroll back to the Gate, where a night of homework and studying awaits her.
And she's looking forward to that. Nerdy Gear.

Creation is a big place. The wonderful thing about Gates is that they make traversing it that much easier. Just this morning, for example, Tepet Lisara was back in Chiaroscuro, attending to the bureaucracy involved with her Wing and its provisions.
Then she got a hankering for tea and noodles, and traversed through the Hub to the Imperial City. One delicious, expensive meal later, Lisara is emerging from the high-class restaurant, looking quite content and at peace in the world. She takes a moment to stop there in the street, and looks up at the heavens. This place is so different, thinks Dynamo. It's more dangerous, more chaotic, but I... I love it. I wish I could stay here forever...
The gleam of something golden catches the Winglord's eye. Then she notices the shocked patricians, the civilians running in terror, the guards arrayed in front of the manse.
So much for a quiet evening, Lisara thinks. She takes off after Gilgamesh at a running pace, one hand darting down to the hilt of her daiklave.

One thing is for certain. No bird sings this day. The cause is far from obvious, however.

A woman. A creature. A monster. A mirage. Whatever one would call the silver-haired woman in black, the personification of the beautiful nightmare that's been sweeping the western Threshold countries of the Hundred Kingdoms drifts aimlessly amongst the peoples of this, the very heart of the Realm. The Abyssal's nature hasn't drawn any attention, as she has not gone out of her way to do such.

The Bleakheart, the Nightmare, pauses only once. She deftly sidesteps a courior who had been behind her, raising a single dainty hand to shield her eyes from this oppressive Creation sun. A man in golden armor? Her eyes narrow slightly.

A Solar exalt. Is this why 'They' sent her to this stifling place?
"So - do you actually /expect/ assassination attempts?" Taskmaster doesn't mind paranoid rich people. Paranoid rich people pay very, very well. But it can be boring work. "I mean, I'll stop any that happen, but I want to know what danger you're likely to be in in what you tell me is the most civilized city in the world." "Island." "That's what I said."
This discussion is being had as Taskmaster rides a horse alongside the richly appointed cart of a Nexus merchant named Seven Oxen (apparently, his parents were prophetic about his girth). (Thank you, Roy Rogers, for your TV career,) Taskmaster thinks, as he easily maneuvers the horse through the roads towards the center of the Isle.

The complexities of interdimensional travel can be a nuisance at times. Going to the Palace Sublime to report to his superiors means that Ashen Mist first has to go through the Imperial City. He really wishes there was a Gate closer to his destination, especially considering how much he hates traveling the Blessed Isle, but it can never be so easy, can it?
The sight of the man in golden armor draws the Immaculate's attention. That's got to be some idiot Dynasty, right? The Anathema have gotten bolder as of late, stepping onto the Blessed Isle on multiple occasions, but none have been so brash as to march alone into the Imperial City of all places!
A hand instinctively drops to the single blade at his waist as Ashen follows after the King of Heroes. Any hopes that this is just some fool of a Terrestrial disappear when he sees the guard martialling to impede Gilgamesh's path. Dear Dragons, can nothing go right when he visits Creation?

Ascendant Raptor, meanwhile, was in the Hub. He saw a gate labelled 'Imperial City', and thought 'wait...that can't mean what I think it mean, can it?' And so here he is, having stupidly decided to walk through the gate as a test. Well, it's the capital of the Realm alright.
"...crap. This was not a good idea," he mutters, though at least his sword is wrapped up tightly enough that it /could/ be a jade daiklave. Who knows? "Now what?" Oh hey is that a guy selling noodles? "Alright, food!" ...no, he has no idea things are about to go to heck, why do you ask?

It's very rare for Nigele to be in the Imperial Capital like this. Obviously he can't usually show his face, although right now, he's managing to keep a low profile. He needs to be here to find a certain artifact; more importantly, the swell of activity within the city and without means he kind of wants to keep track of things there. A short visit here and there, maybe. He wouldn't be able to manage a long term stay.
They'd find out, eventually.
That's when the metal glint catches his eye, and he watches a...well, what he at first assumes to be a very, very stupid Solar about to do something completely inadvisable. But no "Dynast" would stand by when someone is about to try something like that. He doesn't rush to involve himself right away, but he holds a hand to the bow wrapped and hanging on his back.
There's something familiar about that guy.

The Golden King pays no mind to the panicked reactions of the Realm's populace as gilded sabatons take him ever closer to his goal. Armored as he is, making no effort to conceal divine sense of brightness, of wealth, excess and light that pours from him as naturally as it does the sun itself...well, it was no wonder he could be taken for what this land calls 'anathema'. He found their fear a perfectly natural and appropriate reaction. What fool of a lamb would not flee before the lion? Of course, he had no idea there were entirely -other- reasons for the citizenry to fear him, very few of which likely had to do with recognizing him from the stories in the news of late. Research a world before visiting it? Hah, as if a heroic soul had a need for such things. Let them herald his arrival; it would matter little in the end.

He appears to only become aware of the existence of the guards when it becomes obvious they will not simply part for him. Stopping a good ten feet short of their spears, this fact draws a distinct and sour look of displeasure on Gilgamesh's sculpted, aquiline features. A few moments pass while he simply observes them in what may almost seem like perplexity. Spears? Pointed at him? A smile attempted to exist, but failed. The effort would be worthy of laughter, were the mere gesture not unforgivable to his sense of kingly pride. This time however, he does not shout nor air his anger in a mask of visible rage. No, the Sumerian King merely shakes his head. "Fools, standing between me and what is mine." His voice was not without a haughty, calm inflection of pity, "I suppose such insolence must pass for bravery in this world." A mailed hand slowly rises above his head as he speaks, fingers poised elegantly together, "For such dedication, here is your reward. Accept it graciously."

The snap of a finger rings the bells of war.

Vacant air around the supposed anathema's royal person distorts and bursts into a flurry of crimson flashes as blades, pole arms, maces and other conventional weapons assault both the assembled brigade and the walls they guard. Though the seat of the Realm's power was no doubt crafted to resist greater effort than this, those who have heard the sound of artillery fire in their lifetime shall recognize something like it as dozens of noble phantasms impact whatever target they might hit at speeds no normal weapon was meant to reach. The weapons themselves smolder with leftover heat where they strike; Firing enough might cause a visible if light plume of rising smoke overheard aside from any other havoc they might wreak.

In this world, Luke's more than a little outmatched when it comes to skill or power, but when there's a message across IPA frequencies that someone in gold armor just walked in like he owned the place, he knows there's a chance it's Gilgamesh. He was certainly /arrogant/ enough. Luke also knows the Blessed Isle has a whole lot of their own defenses, from the Dragonblooded to the IPA members nearby. It doesn't keep him from quietly querying one of the nearby people about the Palace and being pointed in the right direction. Really, in retrospect, it's kind of obvious where that is, but being certain is better than being wrong!

Gilgamesh nearly killed his best friend. He had a vested interest in seeing the Servant get what he deserves. Which means he turns and heads in the direction of blossoming trouble at a quick trot, pulling out his IPA identification as he goes to prove to guards and the like that he's not just some random kid peanutgallerying the pending mayhem. He's a /registered/ random kid!

For many soldiers, such an attack would bring an instant end to them. The Realm's men are fine, but a Dynast is not even commanding these men. The weapons swing about, rushing through the air. Spears are batted aside; the soldiers are cut and torn into, weapons crushing bones and lancing through armor. The walls are battered, stone chips flying--but they hold, having been made to take such damage in the past. The gates are battered, but they do not break instantly.

Through this maelstrom, some of the Silent manage to press on. They go forward, charging on foot and raising their spears upward. The weapons are hefted in their hands, long spears raised--and through the onslaught, five of them break through, and shove their spears at Gilgamesh.

Behind the doors, soldiers walking forward stare. They can tell those doors will not hold forever--but they have preparations to make. "Hurry!" one yells. "Regent Mnemon was clear--we stop him here, with everything we have!"

Outside, other soldiers are hurrying the Realm's citizens and subjects away. The streets are being cleared; this makes it easy, for some to come running forward. Lera turns and looks at the woman at her side; a solid steel sword is in her hand today. She had no time to get a daiklave. She did, however, have time to get her intricate jade armor on, which has numerous jade scales overlaying chainmail and offering protection.

"It seems," she sighs, "we have some uninvited guests."

Where Dizzy is, life is continuing on as normal. The initial commotion is far away, out of sight, out of sound. But even as the girl ambles along, largely unnoticed amongst the bustle of the city, the entrance of Gilgamesh is not entirely unnoticed. Her wings, though hidden, are aware and have a keener attunement to things like this. Especially Necro, who never lets a moment of potential violence escape unmolested by his desire to participate.

"Not now," the half-Gear mutters beneath her breath. There's differential equations to be solved if she wants to turn in her assignments on time. Surely, the local guard can handle a trespasser in the Imperial Manse. She has no business going into such a place, after all; she'd likely be chased out, or worse, and that's the last thing she wants to--

No, the explosion in the distance, that's closer to the last thing she wants to encounter.

She turns toward the Imperial Manse immediately, staring off at the smoke drifting skyward. Should she get involved? Would her help be necessary or welcome? Hesitantly, she begins to walk, then jog, then run--though still halfheartedly--toward the scene. She makes no attempt to change into her battle uniform yet, though, as that would probably call more attention to herself than she wants to. Not until she knows that is necessary.

Now she breaks into a full run, lifting up her skirts slightly to make sure she does not trip on them. With a bit of luck, she manages to slip past any guards, who are probably a little more concerned with what is going on within, at least until she gets to the palace proper.

Chatter over the Alliance's frequency, relayed by Adjutant, indicates that the man in gold is no Solar. It takes Dynamo-in-disguise a moment to recognize him, but when she does she resists the urge to smirk. This is Gilgamesh, eh? she thinks, Gilgamesh in combat? She winces as the weapons cut into the troops outside the manse, and she draws Flame's Kiss from its sheath.

"Anathema!" Lisara cries, as she skids to a halt and points her daiklave at Gilgamesh's back. "Stand and face a /real/ opponent, demon! You face I, Tepet Lisara, Winglord of the Realm!" One of the gems mounted on the daiklave starts to glow, and the Realm officer's blade is surrounded by a licking tongue of flame. She charges, lashing out with Flame's Kiss in a vicious overhead arc meant to split Gilgamesh in two.

Ascendant Raptor, meanwhile, already has bowl in hand and chopsticks raised by the time the kaboom goes off. He immediately freezes in mid-motion, before glancing over at the vendor. He sighs and fishes in his pocket for a few pieces of jade, which he sets down on the cart. "Sorry!"
...and then he's off. He runs towards a nearby wall, running /up/ the brick surface, and starts to hop from roof to roof in the direction of the 'explosion'. And yes, he's shoveling noodles into his mouth the whole way. There's no way he's going to waste what little money he has even if someone is being a jerk in the middle of eating!

Those of this world have one thing which Gilgamesh does not. He has power; he has magical potency; he has weapons and the capacity to use them in brutal and terrifying ways, seeking to assert his will upon them, and take what is his by right of his existence.

Inatera stands near Lera; she had her armor close to hand, and so the light jade breastplate and other pieces of armor rest on her body, and perhaps more pointedly, /she/ has a daiklave. Hound's Sixth Tooth rarely leaves her side, after all. "Some," she says a little flatly to Lera, before pausing to shout instructions and make a sweeping, dramatic gesture of indication with the daiklave. When done, she tells Lera, "What worries me is what he will /break/!" A semi-familiar head seems to bob in the distance as Luke fon Fabre makes his presence known.

Inatera whistles at him shrilly, before calling, "Fabre! With us!" while raising the red weapon aloft to perhaps indicate where she is. In her head she reviews: he should be able to serve along with them, though, she reminds herself, don't assume he knows the Charms they do.

Having done this she pivots herself towards the bulk of the imperial manse and its associated compound, moving towards it, though not leaving either Lera nor their press-ganged ally behind. After all, to do that would be to abandon their advantage: Friends.

Ashen Mist's pace quickens as he sees Gilgamesh stop and raise a hand. He breaks into a full run when the swords appear and memories of IPA records come into his head. Golden armor, rain of swords... the king of heroes searching for his queen. Gilgamesh.

When the torrent of weapons begins blasting forward, wearing away the wall before him and leaving a shimmering haze of heat from their passage, the Immaculate monk sprints with inhuman speed. "Stop right there," he shouts at the king, drawing his red jade daiklaive from its sheath. "You have no business in this world!"

Ashen catches sight of Lisera's charge at the last moment, sidestepping a couple meters so that he doesn't interfere with her charge. Moments after the Anathema hunter's overhead strike, the Huntsman's own daiklaive follows with a horizontal slash. "Stay back, Lisara," he calls to the other 'Fire Aspect'. "This is no ordinary Anathema!"

Perhaps it is.

The Nightmare lowers her arm with a small noise, refocusing her attention on the crowd before her. She adopts a small frown at the milling (and retreating) citizenry. She crouches slightly, then leaps upward. In a flurry of black cloth, she springs off an awning, across an allyway, and ricochets from windowsill to windowsill until she lands lightly on the rooftop.

Rising, she brushes her darkcoat off, and then darts across the rooftops - Leaping the alleys. She still appears unarmed. Harmless. Just a white-haired woman in black who happens to be in a hurry towards the rising smoke at the Imperial Manse. Every instinct is telling her this is a bad idea.

But 'They' told her to go. 'They' must have a plan. It is not her place to question such a command.

Distance closed, the Bleak and Beautiful Nightmare crouches on one knee upon the last rooftop before the gardens that ring the Imperial Manse. Her mere presence is making her stomach churn, but she remains focused. With a set frown, she descends the face of the building, and at street level backs herself into a doorway. Real subtle-like.

This would happen one of the few times White Gale was brave enough to venture into the Imperial City. The chances of his cover being blown here are high, at the worst of times, in the worst of places. Why, just there is that Anathema-hunter, Lisara. And yet...

Who cares about any of that?! Immediately the boy springs to his feet and leaps upwards, dashing and leaping onto a low rooftop. Have to lead Gilgamesh, the self-proclaimed king, away from the city he wants to claim. Too many chances of casualties here, even if evacuations are underway.

"You know, you're not the first one to decide this city is 'yours.'" He's technically standing behind Gilgamesh, though a reasonable distance away. "Nor will you be the last." As the others strike with daiklaves, he narrows his eyes, drawing the bow.

His hands open, ice arrows of pure Essence forming before he launches a flurry of them at the King of Heroes. "I owe you a beating, asshole!"

The sound of artillery is all too familiar to some. Taskmaster, for example, watched a movie on the Civil War recently! "Shit - all right, sir, there's danger. You will obey me completely." "-but-" "NO BUTS! Now, you get in here!" The cart is quickly stashed in a nearby alley, with instructions to the carter to pay anyone who seems too interested to go away.

And then Taskmaster is off to deal with - and neutralize - the danger. He doesn't quite fit in with the others heading for the area - he wears no steel armor and carries no swords. He's a man in a hoodie and slacks, albeit an /armored/ hoodie and slacks, with an orange glowing bracer on one arm and guns tucked into secure holsters. He's wearing a death's-head mask.

But, on the other hand, he's heading in the right direction and not apparently causing trouble, like Gilgamesh is. He has no idea what's going on - but it's a threat to his client, and his job is to neutralize threats to his clients. "What the hell is going on here..." He mutters this quietly, looking around the area as he gets near to the commotion. People to note - several. There's Lisara, he can use this for more information on her moves. Others. Anathema? Right, the word for 'Mutant'. (No one ever said Tasky had all the answers.) With this in mind, the merc stays back for a moment, to get a clear idea of what the battlefield will look like. He's sure it /will/ be a battlefield - he's too experienced to think this will end peacefully.

And then White Gale happens. Tasky nods to himself. Called it.

Hm, some actually survived? That alone was enough to earn a queerly raised brow from Gilgamesh, who hardly expected such resilience from mere frontline soldiers. "Tch." He wears his sneer openly, more pointed blades released at his command, "The armies of Alexander the Great, the King of Conquerors, were not enough to stand before me. What chance do you mongrels possess?" Leaping back beyond the reach of those eager spear tips, reality parts like water around the Sumerian's hand as he pulls an unforgiving double-bladed scythe from his unseen treasury. "Still, your efforts are at least worth a notable death, I suppose." Suriyothai cuts the air in a horizontal slash, a sudden vacuum bringing an onrush of air to fill the vacant hole in creation's tapestry where the weapon tore through dimensions and causality alike to strike all five souls at once, quite possibly sundering their spear, lives and fates with the cruel impartiality only privilege and power could breed in the Noble Phantasm's wielder.

Regardless of how that plays out, a tandem assault from the realm's other defenders quickly re-directs the King of Heroes's attention. Barely glimpsed streaks of steel shatter many of the conjured icicles and press on towards the sudden ice storm's creator, though they cannot prevent several from impacting Gilgamesh's side as Lisara earns a sure strike across his back, which pushes him into a follow-up attack from Ashen Mist. More prepared for this strike, he is able to bring a jeweled blade to bare against the strike but finds the strength behind the dynast's blow greater than anticipated, smashing through his guard and forcing him back several paces. His armor has seemed to hold well at the assault however, and while the Archer has been pushed around a bit shows mostly cosmetic damage in dents (A good gouge in Lisara's case, though no blood was drawn) and rebuffs on his gilded armor.

"Hmph." The words hurled at him are discarded casually, a simple golden rod appearing in his hands, "I did not come to claim this city, half-breed. You can keep such a hovel and your delirious quarrels to yourself, I have greater aims. And..." His unforgiving gaze finds Lisara from the corner of his eye. Unlike her, he did not recognize this woman in the slightest, "I have no interest in the names of those who are already dead. Jang!" He sweeps the that staff out at the paired fire aspects, and quite suddenly it's more a golden -pillar- than a golden staff, sweeping with enough force to potentially bat the two a good ways across if it should connect. He'd deal with such impudence later.

Luke in no way recognizes pretty much everyone in the vicinity, but it's amazing how fast having his name called gets his attention, moreso than the whistle. He diverts neatly and heads in Inatera's direction instead of hunting down Gilgamesh directly; he'll recognize Inatera's voice sooner or later. All of this really is a bit of a confusion but it wasn't unlike the Chesedonia situation save the lack of proper evacuation. Did they think themselves untouchable?

Perhaps understandably, he decides, given the size of the weaponry they wield.

It's a little intimidating, really, but he's not going to go cringe off to hide just because everyone else had bigger weapons than he did! "He'll kill the people here just for the hell of it, are they going to be evacuated?" They're not /his/ civilians, but he worries anyway. There's safety in numbers, so he won't be leaving Inatera and Lera yet.

But he wants to. He can hear the sounds of battle, and remembers what Gilgamesh did to the trade-city .. and to Guy, and the people who'd expected him to protect them when trouble arose. He'd failed then. He won't this time.

Upon arriving at the scene, Dizzy staggers momentarily. There is so much power here. Here, at the heart of the Empire, where those who might be called minor gods walk, and flows of magic ebb and flow through the walls and vaults. Her blood buzzes in her veins, reacting to all that energy suffusing the place...made worse by the bladestorm thrown around with casual disregard for life and limb just before she arrived.

There is probably little resistance to her trying to make her way in; the girl simply steadies herself, takes a deep breath, and strides in, though far less confidently than Gilgamesh did. It helps that she's going through a side entrance, left open by guardsmen rushing in to confront the attacker, rather than the front door.

Soon, Dizzy is standing at the edge of the main hall, where the battle is just getting into its full power. Again, she stumbles, trying to shake off the feeling that her individual muscle cells have decided to start a complicated line dance amongst themselves. A cooling sensation that starts from her right shoulder steadies her. But her left itches as Necro's lust for blood begins to boil.

This is no small matter for the palace guard to deal with. This man in golden armor holding that impossibly huge staff comes from another world, another plane, and he carries tremendous power with him. The decision is made. Dizzy looks down at herself and sighs: hopefully, no one will recognize her, with wings and tail and flaring magic. There is a burst of her own power, and her dress dissolves away, leaving herself in a scant black bikini of sorts, her previously hidden inhuman characteristics now plain to see. She leaps over the railing lightly, wings flared, and comes to a hovering stop inches above the ground, held up by her power manifested as a glowing red ring around her stockinged legs.

"You shouldn't be here," she says in a comically meek voice. And then the blue-white wing fashions itself into a beautiful toga-clad woman who flicks an arm at Gilgamesh, summoning a ball of metal--that reshapes itself into a spearhead, crackling with electricity, and lances at Gilgamesh even as Undine reverts into feathery form. Would that she could help the civilians more directly, but this is truly what she excels at. She is ultimately a weapon.

"Brother Mist!" Lisara cries, as she hears the Immaculate's voice. "Stand with me! Together, we will vanquish this--"

Suddenly, staff.

Lisara moves like the flames of her Aspect, bringing Flame's Kiss up to parry the staff as it swings out at her. Golden metal strikes red jade with a clang, and sparks fly as the force behind Gilgamesh's attack pushes the Dynastic officer back. She's shoved back, back, back from the force of the parry, leaving furrows in the ground as her boots dig into the road. She ends her journey about twenty feet away from where she started, next to Lera and Inatera.

"Not bad," Lisara snorts, "For Anathema!" She clenches a hand into a half-fist, firey Essence crackling around her fingers. The stone set in her daiklave flashes once again as a head-sized orb of white-hot fire roars out at Gilgamesh!

Fortunately for Dizzy, Lisara hasn't noticed her yet.

Coincidentally, Ascendant Raptor finishes eating /just/ as he pulls up on the scene of the battle. This is made obvious by the fact that he rears back and pitches the ceramic bowl that once held his noodles at the back of Gilgamesh's head. ...yes, he went there.
"HEY YOU!" the Solar announces boldly, pointing at the King of Heroes with the chopsticks. "What the heck do you think you're doing picking a fight in the middle of the city like this?!" Yes, oddly enough, the Night caste disapproves of mass devastation. How shocking!
Either way, he goes for the rather large sword on his back, leaving it wrapped (for now).

The Silent Legionnaires fall; they stick to their name and reputation, not even crying out in death as the blade tears through reality and cuts through them. They fall, then, one by one, but it leaves some time for Realm's defenders to get inward.

Lera sees them fall and narrows her eyes. The Winglord nods to Inatera, before she readies her steel blade and watches as people move in. She sees Gale up there and smiles a little, before she looks at Luke. She nods to the man from Auldrant. "Yes," she says. "We have soldiers on it--and they're getting the servants out of the Imperial Manse, to boot."

She sees Dizzy ahead--and Lisara and Ashen Mist. Plenty here, today, to help. "We should move. Together, now!"

Lera starts running forward. Her steel sword is clutched in both hands; flame ignites along the length of it, crackling fires that snap upward and lash at the air, before she comes upward. The blade snaps back over her shoulder--and she goes sailing over Ascendant Raptor's head, before she lands down to the side of the King of Heroes, slashing hard at the man's side.

Ashen Mist's free hand immediately drops down to his waist, attempting to draw his second daiklaive... except that he doesn't HAVE a second daiklaive anymore, no thanks to Talifah. The useless gesture is all the opening Gilgamesh needs in order to strike the Immaculate with his great golden pillar of pain, sending the monk flying into a wall with a crash.

Barely a moment passes before the Fire Aspect has disappeared, however, leaping off of the wall in an instant and throwing himself towards the King of Heroes again. He draws back his empty hand, a corona of flames manifesting around his wrist and fist as he bolts up to Gilgamesh. Hopefully the man in gold is distracted by all of the magic going his way and leaves himself open to a fiery suckerpunch from the Immaculate monk.

As with Lisara, Ashen's attention is laser-focused upon Gilgamesh, so Dizzy's terrible transformation is missed for the moment. Rest assured, he'll be very confused once he sees the winged girl.

Something flies through Nigele's flurry, and the flying blades strike directly into the sorceror. Unlike others, he isn't heavily armored, wearing loose-fitting robes that allow for more movement but don't always protect well against airbonre blades. He winces, blood trickling through the robes as he dashes forward.

"What do you think you're trying to do here, then? If you have no interest in this city and consider it below you, leave! It has no need nor desire for you, Gilgamesh." Calling the King of Heroes by his name, the sorceror stops to chant, Essence bursting into flames around him. At first it appears he's casting a Fire banner like the rest, until the flames take the shape of a great phoenix, rising into the air with blinding light before plunging down at the Archer. Should it hit, it will burst into a magic-powered firestorm.

Taskmaster realizes, now, that he made an /excellent/ decision in hanging back at first. He gains the benefits of watching each of the moves as they're done...and each has something to teach him. Even if, in Gilgamesh's case, he's mostly learning what the guy can /do/, and not to be in the way of it.

The daiklave tricks of Lisara, or Raptor's bowl toss...well, those are useful. Taskmaster hangs back for another second, watching Lera charge. Yes - these people are definitely trained to work together. Their moves complement each other. Now to pick one. Behind his mask, Tasky smiles. He snaps his wrist, summoning energy out of his stolen SHIELD energy-weapon-creator. A daiklave, weightless as one an Exalt might carry, appears in his hand. It has no magic...but then, nothing Taskmaster has does. He charges forward, mimicking Lera's leap to carry him over Raptor - and then he switches, midjump, to Spiderman, using his acrobatic tricks to land past Lera. Move complementarily...the mercenary lashes out at Gilgamesh, mimicking a slash done just seconds before by Lera...but without the fire. On the other hand, Tasky is pretty good at picking /where/ to hit people, so he might make up for the lack of magical burning fire. The corner of his eye is kept open, for more movegrabbing.

Inatera looks at Luke for a moment, blinking. Then Lera adds in, and she nods: "Yes. The mortal troops are used to a bit of this kind of thing. Usually not in the /city/, of course, but -" She turns to hasten forwards, speaking as she runs. "Naturally enough, we have the occasional incident where we have a large singular creature or small group attack a major city or the like, and so we have drills for it. Mortals would be like chaff before whirling obsidian-snake blades, don't you think? But we're a little tougher to -"

She sort of vanishes.

Inatera has honed her capacities in a good dozen ways which are simply the due accumulation of a large quantity of time. The red and brown of her body seems to ripple ahead as she kicks off the ground, Essence bearing her on an arcing path upwards as she grasps Hound's Sixth Tooth back-handedly. The hooked tip, with its sharpened inner face, sweeps at the back of Gilgamesh's neck before Inatera seems to come back to slightly less absurd velocities, twirling around and kicking up sparks on the flagstones when she lands, facing at Gilgamesh again. She keeps the daiklave in the reversed grip, perhaps just in case.

"Take down!!" she shouts towards where she thinks Luke probably is, just because she realizes her sentence wasn't quite finished.

After the last of the fleeing citizenry charges away from the Imperial Manse, the Nightmare re-emerges from the doorway where she had sought shelter from the deluge of unprocessed Soylent Green. She crosses the plaza at a brisk walk, ascending to the Imperial courtyard where all the action is taking place - Going right through the gate. With so much activity inside, a single pale woman is scarcely worth the attention. There's a God-Emperor on the rampage, who cares about an unarmed woman?!

Dynasts all make their moves. Even the Ascendant Raptor has made an appearance. The Nightmare frowns slightly at this. She makes a little noise, flipping out her darkcoat in a single action and promptly ... disappearing. It's a very brief surge of speed that shoves the Nightmare into the fray. Her dark-edged blade deftly intercepting the dragon-graced weapon of Cathak Lera. Preventing her from striking a blow to the King of Heros.

"Even the greatest of warriors cannot fight an army of Dynasts alone," the Nightmare states calmly. Her voice is directed not to Lera, but the golden-armored man she just defended. She takes a step back, bringing her blade in an arc to press the Dragonblood back, "My aid comes at a small price." The daiklaive is spun once, then rests loosely at her side - Her back to the Gilded King. 'Covering his Six', as it were. "I seek no material gain, merely answers. Turn your blade upon me if you will, at your own peril."

The level of force brought to bear on him is enough that Gilgamesh does not bother to pay mind to any attack in particular. Though he is a King, he is also a warrior, and it is the soul of the warrior who once toppled the demon Humbaba and slew the Bull of Heaven that guides his body and his power as prana is expended in ridiculous amounts, lending to his already ambient aura an even brighter shine. Where the blades of Inatera and the Gear seek to cause harm, a conjured shield and blade are there to block their path. When a shuddering inferno approaches him, it takes a blow from the gilded staff of the Monkey King to extinguish nigh half the flames. The remainder smashes into him, igniting an inferno about him that causes some pain, but not enough to threaten him. "Sorcery of this level...you mock me. Knowing my name will not save you." The anger writ plane on his features is only exacerbated when some fool has to audacity to throw a -bowl- at him, which shatters rather harmlessly on his brow, injuring pride more than flesh.

"You -dare-?!" The ridiculous attempt so angers the Golden King that he barely notices Taskmaster's exploitation of that moment, the conjured blade finding a small gap within his armor. "Mongrels like you..." His hand will seek to seize the unknown attacker by the scruff and -hurl- him at Ascendant Raptor with a level of strength the empowered human would no doubt be somewhat familiar with on his world, "Deserve to die together!" A small hail of blades will find them both.

And -then-.

Unsure at first why this female leapt to his (Wholly unnecessary) defense, the First Hero's displeasure reflects in burning eyes upon her proclamation. "You make terms to me, a king, without even announcing yourself?!" However reasonable the Abyssal may find her proposal, this Heroic Soul has not been known to play well with allies, "I need no assistance. An eyesore such as you is unworthy of a blade." Instead, a snap of the finger precedes the swing of a large, disembodied stone hammer at the Nightmare's person, "Remove yourself from my presence, reprobate."

Growing discontent, the Gilded Monarch directs his attention the matter at hand. Ruyi Jingu Bang shall be flung with all his strength at the closed gates, turning from a staff to a gigantic battering ram with the circumference of a redwood. Even the works of creation may be hard-pressed to stand against -that-.

Next, in a motion too fluid and perfect to have come from a human's grace, a shining sword of immaculate design warps into his grasp. This one is different from the others; To all with the sense for it, a true weapon of legend has been put into play. "Filth..." The former servant mutters under his breath, "I refuse to dirty my hands." With a simple horizontal swing, a crescent of immense, blinding light extends from the blade's arc. For a moment, it seems as if the sun has risen in the sky once again.

Nothing seems to have happened for a moment afterwards. That attack was not directed at one person in particular. The crack and shudder of stonework eliminates such wishful thinking without remorse. A high-rise pagoda (Perhaps the one he'd been standing) bares a thin but absolute diagonal slash through its mid-section. With the ponderous bulk of a tipping beast, the top half of the structure tips and falls upon the site of battle.

In the aftermath of the wreckage, presuming the way has been made and that none block his way, the King of Heroes shall stride in triumph towards the next sanctum of the Imperial Manse.

Good. The less people in the vicnity, the less people would be caught when Gilgamesh inevitably did that rain-of-swords thing again. This man's killed a lot of people before, would do it again, and if he wasn't careful, Luke could be one of them -- the unease that thought brings is shoved aside to be panicked over later; there's no time for it now. Don't wonder why the 'mortals' of this city are used to having lunatic men in golden armor attacking, he knows he won't like the answer. "I don't know what a snake-blade is, but-"

'Move together'. Unison attacks had a habit of being distracting enough where /someone/ gets through, and as Lera and Inatera charge, Luke's not that far behind, sword drawn. He can't do much, not compared to Exalted, but he can do something, and that's better than doing nothing... wasn't it? Be afraid later, when the danger's gone. There's one advantage to these 'dragonbloods', he decides suddenly, as Lera's sword aquires a wake of flame. He has an awful lot of elemental fodder to work with for his own artes. There's too much to really keep track of, with attackers /everywhere/, and the replica decides everyone but Gilgamesh might be an ally.

Nevermind that Nightmare clearly isn't.

It makes things a little easier. It's while he's working on getting around Ashen Mist and figuring out where to strike that someone already /isn't/ that there's that flash of golden light - and the creak of masonry means Bad Things. Luke's got a healthy sense of self-preservation at times like this and quickly darts closer to a convenient column; as everything comes crashing down, he's pretty much out of the way of everything but dust, debris, and a lot of coughing.

But Gilgamesh isn't going to get too far in his triumphant stride towards phat lewts, because the replica, being remarkably unharmed so far in all of this (dumb luck, at least!), chooses to pursue. He can be remarkably quiet when he chooses to be, and there's some things he's learned from playing lethal games of 'tag' with certain God Generals. There's nothing very honorable about a backstab. But there's nothing honorable about killing innocents either.

Seeing Taskmaster get thrown at him, Ascendant Raptor's natural instinct is to try and catch the guy, since they're on the same team and all. Mostly. Then he gets stabbed repeatedly. The Solar slumps over slightly, blood dripping onto the ground. That looked painful.
"Alright," he says quietly, before booming louder: "HEY! Where do you think you're going, Mister 'I'm-So-Cool-in-Orichalcum-Breastplate'?!" With that he leaps into the air, shedding blades as he goes. Incredibly he almost makes the distance from the roof to Gilgamesh in a single bound, landing in front of Bleak and Beautiful Nightmare. "'scuse me miss, I need to stab your friend."
And then he leaps again, raising his sword overhead and attempting to bring it down on Gilgamesh's head as he walks away.

"What in the--" Lera hisses, her blade caught by the sudden Abyssal. Her eyes narrow at Nightmare. "I have no time for this!"

She tries to sweep around her, running in again towards Gilgamesh. Never let them say that she was shy about confronting someone--unfortunately, her rush is cut short when the roof of the pagoda comes crashing in. A chunk of stone catches her and slams her to the ground--and she vanishes, for a moment, covered by the numerous and many rocks. Lera screams and vanishes under them, even as some of them slam into the battered gate to the manse.

It comes collapsing in, and it becomes clear the manse's defenders have been prepared. As Gilgamesh strides in, he sees that a small number of soldiers have gathered. Tables were arranged hastily; they bar the way ahead of him, forming a makeshift barricade. Resting over one in the center of the room is an immense cannon, finely polished and intricately crafted -- it's a weapon worth admiring. Lettering on High Realm is marked on the side, declaring it, "The August Bringer of Unfortunate Tidings."

"There!" the Scalelord in command shouts. He swings his daiklave down, giving the signal. "FIRE!"

The three mortals manning the essence cannon--the same one that was taken into the Tower of Victory, at the end of the Horsemen conflict, under Lera's command--reel back and fire. A huge bolt of white light fires from the man-portable artillery cannon, and right for the King of Heroes' chest.

Taskmaster gets lucky - he gets hurled, using the tricks he learned from Daredevil to minimize impact...and that, combined with Raptor's catch, lets him out with only some /really/ nasty bruises. "Rrrgh...thanks." Sometimes, just being human is a pain in the ass. The mercenary finds his feet, his hand still closed on the hilt of his energy daiklave. "Right..."

Taskmaster spares one glance for the cannon that has been wheeled into place - and immediately decides that Bleak will make a better target. She's a threat - she's not helping take down the /other/ threat. Taskmaster takes a deep breath...and then raises his sword. It shifts into a katana, mirroring Gilgamesh. He saw how the move was done - though not how it managed to destroy an entire /building/.

But the principle is the same.

Taskmaster lunges for the Bleak and Beautiful Nightmare, "Sorry about this, lady. Nothing personal." One cut. The energy katana slices - one simple horizontal swing. It worked for Gil - maybe it'll work for Taskmaster, in his own less magical way.

Dizzy does not stay still; both instinct and experience tell her to move once her position is known to the opponent. Even as the spearhead launches, she is moving to the side, to her left, gliding smoothly over the floor. She frowns slightly, a mere hint of the mental snarls of disgust sounded by Necro at the sight of Undine's attack bouncing harmlessly off the golden shield. The electrical charge is wasted, flowing over an implement that is physically separated from its wielder.

And then there is a flare of light. She closes her eyes against it, but her other senses tell her to continue moving, knowing where the blade is even if she does not see it. Inwardly she shudders again, but now prepared for these expressions of power and does not falter. And when she opens her eyes, she immediately gives crouches slightly, then with a downbeat of her wings, she leaps high into the air, backward and away from the crashing debris of the destroyed structure. Shrapnel flies about, but is easily deflected by Undine wrapping herself around her mistress' body as a shield.

She floats in midair for a moment, then plummets back to the ground, once more stopping just inches from it with a soft pulse of magic. Quickly she moves forward, just after the essence blast--because surely the King of Kings is not going to be dissuaded merely by that--standing in Gilgamesh's way (and likely in obvious sight to everyone who still remains) as he advances toward the inner sanctums of the Palace, wings flared and and fists clenched. "You must leave this place. Now."

With a burst of abrupt speed, she is now skimming forward, straight at Gilgamesh. A mere yard away from him, she then spins and lashes out with her black, beribboned tail--a tail that suddenly sprouts a caricatured set of fangs and gaping maw, cartoonish in its grinning appearance. But there is little that is funny about the mighty chomping of its jaw, seeking to clamp down on Gilgamesh's arm, deliver a bite, and then shove him back toward the outside.

She then uses the change in momentum to try to push herself backward, away from him. The half-Gear is no fool; she does not want to linger near him any longer than is necessary. Not after seeing what he's capable of.

White Gale's eyes shoot towards the falling pagoda, and he's quick to dash and roll to the side. It keeps him just out of the range of the falling debris, and he comes out intact, just in time to spot a rather obvious Abyssal standing near Gilgamesh.

Great. All they need. But for now, the focus remains Gilgamesh, who seems intent on advancing into the Imperial Manse. What could he even want in there? Treasures? A show of power? The attention of Peleps Deled?!

His eyes shooting towards Lera briefly to make sure she's alright, he turns back to the golden warrior, scowling. "We're just warming up. You hurt two people who are very important to me, and you seem intent on hurting more. Face the consequences!"

As he dashes much closer to Gilgamesh, he readies more arrows. He begins launching them as he runs, a nearly constant barrage of razor-sharp shards mixed in with some genuine steel-carved arrows.

Well, um, shit. Lisara sees the slash, and hears the sound of timbers and pilings giving way, and immediately starts to move. She flips backwards, handspringing across the ground, daiklave still in hand. She manages to clear out before the building collapses, but a spray of shattering masonry catches her in the shoulder and sends her tumbling. Lisara comes to a skidding halt at the foot of the building across the street, dazed but still in one piece.

Cheerfully ignoring the plight of whomever's trapped in the rubble, Lisara follows Gilgamesh into the manse. As the Essence Cannon blasts him from the front, the Winglord attacks from behind, launching another fireball at him--this time, from her sword!

Radiant Dynamo of Invention misses Gilgamesh with her Elemental Bolt Attack(?) attack.

After getting in his suckerpunch, Ashen Mist is quick to leap backwards and away from potential counterattack. His single blade is raised in a defensive posture as he carefully retreats, ready to parry anything that might come his way.

The sudden rumbling behind him, needless to say, is unexpected. The Immaculate monk turns his head just in time to see the great pagodabegin to tumble onto the streets. "Dragons damn it!" he cries at the building as he drops into a more appropriate stance, watching it carefully. In the moments before it hits the ground he leaps INTO the crumbling structure through one of it's windows, then begins darting through its rooms at lightning speed to get out the other side.

Unfortunately, Ashen is juuust too slow to actually make it, getting caught in the last room as the building crashes and buries everything beneath it. At least the amount of debris landing on his head is minimal thanks to his new position on the "far" side of the structure. Climbing out of the rubble is easy from here, thankfully.

Rising to his feet, the Fire Aspect reaches into his coat once more, pulling out another weapon. "The only filthy thing I see here is you, Gilgamesh!" he calls out from the top of the rubble. "Be purged in the flames of the dragons!" The weapon in his hand? The red jade flamepiece he stole out from under Talifah's nose the other day. Aiming it isn't TOO difficult, thanks to the monk's previous training in ranged weapons. His only fear is that he loaded the thing wrong; firedust is SUCH a pain to work with, and he's an amateur at best.

Luckily, the Dragons seem to be on Ashen's side this day, and when he pulls the trigger a great burst of flame leaps forward from the barrel of the flamepiece and towards the King of Heroes... and Luke, since the boy is hiding behind Gilgamesh. That might be a little awkward.

The Deathknight steps aside. But, with her back to the King of Heros, his dismissive hammer slams her square between the shoulder blades. This causes the Nightmare to stagger forward several paces. But she remains standing. In the absence of the Abyssal, Gilgamesh's back is left open to the Fon's ('eeeeeeey) attack. Among others.

She swings at Luke - It's a warning swing. Intent to miss, to drive him back, and interpose herself once more on the Servant's rear quarter. Which is really good, because when Gilgamesh gets blasted, it doesn't hit her AT ALL. Her blade lurches once, deflecting the Taskmaster's energy blade in the same action that parries an errant arrow.

"I am going to assume that was a mistake in the heat of battle." the Bleakheart states evenly. The awkward angle of the parry causes the katana to dig into her side - Though not deep enough to show just how deeply through her darkcoat the gleaming energy blade has bitten. She frowns just slightly.

In a swift movement, the Nightmare takes a step forward, shoving the Taskmaster's weapon in an effort to make him lose his balance. She then reverses her sword's grip and swings the pommel towards his midsection. In the same motion, the Deathknight's free hand shoots for his collar.

And, should she manage to grab him, the Bleakheart interposes the Marvel villain between herself (and Gilgamesh) and the incoming fireball.

Over her shoulder, she states calmly, "I am the Bleakheart. You may be a King, but only a fool will turn his blade upon those who offer their services for nothing." She drops the Taskmaster, "I can help you. But, perhaps, you do not wish to find this 'Saber'? If that is the case, then I will leave you to your rampage."

Inatera takes two steps to the left for no discernible reason and hunches down her shoulders.

When the pagoda top lands, she is borne out and through a window, relatively speaking; in practice, flindered wood and ceramic shatter around her, but not ON her. She steps out then, clambering over the rubble and forwards. glancing momentarily at the strange figure - Ah, but the other strange figure's jumping her. Problem seems momentarily resolved.

Inatera can see Luke dash in, and she would give him a shout of praise but his strike clearly involves some degree of /stealth/. Inatera steps closer then, one hand extended with odd delicacy to balance her walk as she gets nearer.

Then she sees the cannon. Her dive to the side keeps her, sadly, from adding her sword to Gilgamesh, for the moment; some of it may wash past what Inatera expects will be his rapidly-disintegrating body within that shiny golden armor. She is probably still underestimating the situation.