[LOG] Interrupting Royal Entertainment

[makoknight]

WHO: Luke fon Fabre, The Little Queen
WHEN: 6th of May, 2009
WHERE: Hyrule Castle Town
WHAT: The Little Queen's army tests Hyrule's defenses. Luke chooses to intervene. Her Majesty is unimpressed.
WATCH FOR: Arrogance! Abuse of power! Needless deaths! Sass!



The Hyrule Castle Town is proud, well defended location. A land of tradition. And right now, it's under attack. The invading force is not a large one, but it is certainly enough troops to pose a threat to the Hyrule troops, though not something they couldn't fight back if they fought smart. It seems more a probing attack, than anything else. The only thing that could be of real concern is near the rear of the battlefield.

Sitting at the back of the battlefield is a sedan chair, it's carriers standing guard outside. The sedan door is open, a woman of regal bearing watching the battle from afare, judging the flow and her soldiers performance.

And, of course, there is a large black dragon with lines of gold across his wings and body sitting next to the sedan chair, watching with some small interest. "Hmmm. The defenses would not be hard to overpower with force, if nothing else." He says, somewhat boredly. And then he lifts a sheep off the ground, and devours it whole, in the same way a noble might eat a single grape.

Generally Luke avoids battlefields. They're ... messy at best, and watching all that killing never left a very pleasant taste in his mouth, but this time he happens to be in the vicinity looking for some kind of present Natalia might accept as a bribe slash apology for blowing off the latest holiday she'd wanted him to go with her on. Fighting was a given in some worlds, but this one he hadn't expected it. Wasn't Hyrule supposed to be peaceful right now?

The dragon and its 'companion' arent' the only things watching this fight. There's the replica too, with an unreadable expression. He really doesn't like this kind of fighting. But Hyrule's dragons don't look like that kind, and a few minutes of observation suggests precisely who sent these people. Probably the dragon. Sometimes dragons are reasonable, right?

Nevermind that there's a woman there too. The sheep-eater is a lot bigger and more impressive to look at.

Which means in short order they have a visitor. "Uh. Excuse me!" It's amazing how he can /sound/ completely unafraid when in fact he is. That thing's huge! "Is that your army?" It's not a BIG army but it's still an army!

The woman continues to focus entirely on the battle. She seems to be making calculations based on the competency of the guards and her soldiers. Interesting. Very interesting indeed. Luke doesn't even register on her radar. Her attendants, however, raise their weapons, as the Dragon turns to stare at the redhead. And then he lets out a chuckle.

"Well, well. Aren't you an audacious one. It's been quite some time since a child has just walked up to me and asked me such a question." Good times, good times. "But no, I can say in all honesty that it's not MY army. It would be a stretch to call such a small force as that an army at the best of times." The Dragon stretches his forelegs. "What were you planning to do if it was, however?"

Luke's not entirely certain if Legna was larger or smaller than this one, but this one certainly didn't have an attached whelp. It's not the first time he's done somethig mindblowingly stupid and with luck won't be the last. He's got his own weapon he could draw, but right now, he's hoping this thing has a better nature he can appeal to. The attendants, and their weapons, are eyed briefly - but the black dragon is kind of a lot more attention getting.

Those are very big teeth, he decides suddenly. "Oh." He seems almost dissapointed that it's not the dragon's army, tugging briefly at his hair. "That complicates things." It's someone ELSE'S army, which means now he has to find that someone else, and it might be that lady there but he's not really certain. "Well, I was going to ask you if you'd be willing to have them leave, even if it's a little army, but if they're not yours that's kind of hard to do. Do you know who's they are?"

He's polite enough! But really, he wants to stop all that killing going on over there. It's making his stomach turn. The loss of life is never ... ever pleasant.

The Dragon seems to look thoughtful. Or possibly hungry. It might be a touch difficult to tell what a Dragon is thinking. "Personally, I just came here to see what would happen. I do so like a show. But who's army it is. Hmmmm..." Or, possibly, he's a little bit senile. Can dragons be senile?

The woman in the box waves over one of her attendants, and gives him a very quiet command, before returning to the battle. He salutes. "At once, Your Majesty."

And then he, and the other four soldiers charge Luke with sword and shield, no warning given bar a yell.

The Dragon, for his part, steps back a little as the attendants charge.

"... I guess they don't make televisions in your size," the replica admits grudgingly. Hard to get 'harmless' violence-entertainment when you're that big! It's kind of stange, he'd expected rampaging and fire and threats, but the dragon, for all that it's huge and very menacing, seems rather polite. Luke sees no reason to be rude in return. Especially if it has a bad memory.

There's just one problem with being willing to wait and see if the dragon remembers - that woman in the box is giving orders, and suddenly Luke's being attacked. Now, he's not entirely stupid, and he /should/ realize that it suggests she's in control here, but..

He hasn't reached that conclusion yet. He has other things to worry about, namely defending his life; drawing his own weapon, there's only a moment's hesitation, giving the soldiers enough time to get close, before he retaliates. Luke -isn't- a bad swordsman, nowhere near as poor at fighting as he /thought/ he was, and being a left-handed specialist meant these soldiers were at an immediate disadvantage. At least it's a quick and mostly merciful death.

Killing really, really is something he doesn't like. Wasted lives, wasted futures. Even enemies deserved better-- "U-um, ma'am?" Don't do that again, he doesn't like killing people.

The Soldiers are not, in fact, the best. Which is odd, given they're supposed to be guarding the woman in the box. On the other hand, there is a dragon right there. Maybe they didn't need to be. The dragon, however, clicks his tongue at th soldiers performance.

However, it is at this point that the woman finally steps out of the sedan chair, and her status becomes rather obvious from how she's dressed. After all, even Luke would have an idea what a Queen looks like. And, suddenly, the Dragon seems to have an epiphany. "Oh yes. It's her army."

The Little Queen stares at Luke with... contempt, maybe? It's not really anger, exactly. More of a 'why are you still here' She does not move towards him, but stays where she is.

"What is the meaning of this? You were given ample time to leave Us, and yet you remain." She doesnt' even bat an eyelid at the corpses of her men. They were disposable. And clearly worthless. Otherwise, Luke would be dead. "Your presence continues to interrupt Our battle. We order you to leave, immediately."

Royalty dresses well on Auldrant, but it's been a while since the queen was alive - he never met her. She does dress like nobility, however, and the assumption she's a queen isn't made. As far as he's concerned, she's his equal in rank.. the dragon's another matter. But being looked at like that.

Asch looked at him that way.

"Alright. Thanks." This to the dragon. It might be OBVIOUS who's army it is, but now he has a target. And the sword's not put away. "I don't take orders, I give them." He sounds apologetic. "And even if I did, I couldn't obey that one. Tell your people to withdraw." And the apologetic tone's gone entirely. He /can/ sound firm and determined when he had to.

There's an 'or else' to his statement, that doesn't get said. He'll get rid of them himself if he has to. But only if he has to. Usually when you get rid of the leaders, the rest fall in line. Maybe he could just.. knock her out or something. The dragon would be harder to deal with. "Nobody else has to die."

"Silence, you insufferable peasant." She doesn't give Luke much of a chance to interrupt her. "Is this how your kind address royalty? Clearly, this land will require changes when it is mine. Not that you shall see that day." The Queen moves fast, grabbing a long spear with one hand, and thrusting it at Luke, with much, much more competence than her men could ever show. She has the distance advantage by a long shot, and intends to use it. When she grabs the second spear from the wall of the sedan chair, however, it might become a whole lot less clear on how to fight her.

"You were given your chance, peasant. Now you can give your life to appease the insult."

The Dragon continues to... simply watch, amused.

The redhead straightens up at that, eyes narrowed. Peasant?! Why did everyone think he was a peasant? Was it his style of clothes? Was it because he was trying to be polite these days instead of just telling people what to do? It wasn't fair! Granted, he wasn't really royalty, just the replica of royalty, but it still counted, and still stung his pride.

He doesn't have time to respond to the first set of comments, too busy parrying aside a spear thrust that might have otherwise run him through. "First of all!" She's certainly not incompetant, and now she has two of those, and he's going to have to negate that distance if he wants to do anything. At least the dragon's not interfering. When the replica charges, it might seem like a suicide run, but he already expects to be attacked in the doing, and intends to use both hand /and/ blade to turn aside the spears that'll surely be waiting for him. "I'm not a peasant!"

He just dresses like one. And acts like one, half the time. Everything hinges on whether or not he can get close enough to eliminate her range advantage.

A suicide charge would be all too convenient. Nice, but far too convenient. The Queen is no amateur, by an ystretch of the word. She's been taking kingdoms since age eight, she hardly intends to fall for such a simple feint. The Queen drives her spears into the ground, launching her self into the air, aiming to flip over Luke, and, perhaps, drive her grieves into the back of Luke's skull if her timing is right.

"What you are hardly matters, peon! You will die unmourned and unburied, left to the carrion eaters!" She yells. After all, better to cut short this rank argument. She has no time to waste with those below her status.

There's really no reason to tell her that if he dies he'll merely evaporate into seventh fonons, not leaving a corpse for the carrion eaters to pick at, so Luke doesn't bother. Really, there's more important things to do than chat! Like not die. And what keeps him going is sheer luck. Being kicked in the back of the head staggers the replica but doesn't slow him down much, skidding to a stop shortly later, a little disoriented but still definitely moving. One might suppose there'd have to be a brain in there /to/ addle in order to cause harm.

And well, here he is attacking someone under the nose of a very large dragon, so clearly intelligence isn't an option. When Luke turns and attacks again, he doesn't need to get quite as close this time, a brief surge of reddish energy warning of the blast of pure force he aims at the 'little' Queen; it's more than enough to knock the average person back a good ways. Really, if he wanted to close on her, using Raging Blast probably isn't going to help that any.

The energy impacts with the queen exactly as she lands, not having enough time to defend properly, and being hit solidly by the attack. She attempts to dig her heels in, briefly tearing up the ground before being knocked to the ground, and rolling a distance. The Little Queen knows she cannot waste any time getting back to her feet, glaring at Luke. "Hmph. Is this what these people can do? Fine then!"

If that is how the game is to be played, than the queen shall play it. She spins the spear in her right hand, and hits the ground with the base. And glyphs expand outwards from her. Sickly green glyphs cover the ground around the Queen, and putrid green miasma fills the air from them.

And the queen stands in the center of it, as the poison fills the air, seemingly unfazed. The magic contained in the weapons does not affect the wielder. That much is obvious. If Luke could see it, there would be a very, very sadistic smile on the Queens lips.

Who knows if the locals can do that. Luke can though! And it's one of the few advantages he has over a typical swordsman. He's not far behind when the queen finally stops, but she'd had the boost of distance /and/ arte pushing her back further working for her, so he's not catching up immediately. All he has to do is stop her, knock her out or something, deal with her friend.. then the army. Not hard, right? ..Right?

And as soon as glyphs light up the ground the replica stops as quickly as he can and immediately backsteps away, the sickening green fog that rises unfamiliar. But he's not going to take that risk. The smell's like the Miasma, but worse. He doesn't need to know exactly what it is to be wary, and has no problem with retreating further to stay out of it. It's only a handful of heartbeats between aborted attack and retreat, a decision come to very swiftly. She needs to be stopped, and Luke can't do that from out here.

If you don't take risks, you don't get the chance for victory. He draws an unsteady breath and jumps, intending to clear the distance entirely and come crashing down directly in the middle of it, where the young Queen herself is. Staying there for long won't be possible, so he needs to drive her /out/ of it. The clock's ticking already.

Luke's absolutely insane attack was not what the queen was expecting. His sword slashes across her side, slicing into a chink in the gowns armor. Blood seeps out. Blood seeps out over the beautiful gown. The Queen's smile is gone, as she stumbles back, bleeding, but not daring to drop her weapons. "...You... you disgusting creature! HOW DARE YOU!"

The Queen fully intends to repay the favour, thrusting downward at Luke with the spears. They don't need to both hit, but it would be nice. She intends to try and topple the minor noble, and pin him in place. "How dare you cause me to bleed! You shall have no easy death!"

It's not far enough. The poison cloud was still there, and it /burned/, and staying in it wasn't a good idea at all; the feeling of impact isn't enough to make him think lingering is a good idea. That she's stumbling back is great but he doesn't even dare inhale in this stuff. If it burns skin, he didn't want to find out what it'd do to his lungs. Instead, when she shrieks her outrage, she's given a tight-lipped, fierce smile from the redhead, who utterly fails to roll over and die like a good peon.

He also utterly fails to get out of the way of both weapons, twisting out of the path of one and paying for it in the sudden sharp pain of the other punching right through skin and muscle. The mistake of a reflexive gasp leads to sudden gagging coughing, but she has a moment or two - if it's not taken, the spear's going to be wrenched back out the way it had come and the replica's going to very quickly retreat out of that haze of poison, leaving a trail of crimson as he goes and fighting the urge to keep coughing. Poison is bad, /really/ bad.

The spear does it's duty, as it goes into her enemies flesh. Yes. YES.

The Queen does not let go of the spear, dropping the one that missed in order to put her full weight into driving it further through Luke, twisting as she does so. This is a perfect opportunity. A perfect opportunity to make him suffer.

The Queen draws a shortsword as she closes the distance. A short sword that is probably all too familiar to look. Glory's Bane.

Unfortunately, he has only a few moments before she attempts to drive it into one of Luke's kidneys.

He remembers that sword. Caim had it, once, when he'd first chased Luke across worlds. Having it thrown at him like a little javelin had been the price for hitting the Bloody Prince in the face with a rock to try to distract him from murdering Jade. And it's clear when she pulls the blade out, that Luke does recognize it - not her, but the weapon.

He regrets throwing it back at Caim now. But the Queen doesn't have as clear a shot as she thought at doing further harm to the replica; he still has the strength and the alertness to block a thrust that might have wound up leaving him bleeding to death. With the blade turned aside, he's well within /his/ preferred range. With a spear inconveniently causing incredible agony, but he'll deal with it. Shock does wonders for dulling pain.

While she's so close, a fist is sent in a sudden vicious jab square for her face, hoping for a moment's metaphorical breathing room. Whether he gets it or not, bluewhite lines draw themselves like the glyph she'd used earlier to cause the poisonous fog, but when this erupts outwards in a brief shockwave of power, not only will it cause damage if she's still close, it heals a little of the injuries he's gained. Had he been a better seventh fonist, self-healing wouldn't be an issue at all..

The problem for the Queen, at this point, was how close she had to be to put the spear, and the shortsword, into her opponent. She turns her head at the last second, taking the the blow on the cheek. That still hurts, but it's the shockwave from Luke that does the job, bnoth clearing the glyphs on the ground, and more importantly, sending the Queen flying.

On the downside, the sword and the spear both come with her, the spear tearing out of Luke at high speed.

It also exacerbates the queen's own wounds. She pulls herself slowly off the ground, more blood staining her gown, hatred burning in her eyes for the red headed mongrel in front of her. She cannot, and will not lose to this peon! This weakling!

And then, all of a sudden, flames wreath the battlefield, as the watcher finally decides to step in. His pact partner is not thinking clearly. And while he greatly doubts Luke could kill her, she could damage herself gratly. And that means damage to him.

"Calm down." The Dragon speaks to the queen, wordlessly. "It would be unbecoming to lower yourself to his level." Yes. He knows how to push the queen's buttons as she realises how she's acting. She sheathes the Glory's bane, and lifts the dropped spear from the ground, waiting to see if the man who offends her so will rise from the Dragon's breath.

By the scream the young nobleman gives when the spear's ripped back out, that really, /really/ hurts. He remains on his feet only through sheer stubbornness, wrapping his right arm around the wound left behind; he can't get to the other side of it, but this side he can. Wearing white proves to be a bad idea with how fast it wicks up the crimson.

Several hacking coughs clears his lungs for the most part, but the poison's going to linger and the damage is already done. Luke shifts his grip on his sword as the Queen stands again, meeting her hate filled stare with unblinking, steady green. The eruption of flames around them - it reminds him of Caim, and the brief glance around is searching for that elusive man - but they're alone, and there's no /sense/ of the man's raging insanity.

"Leave. Take your men and leave." His voice rasps, whistling between breaths, but it's clear enough. "This is your final warning." What could he possibly do? With the injuries he's already been given surely he's going to die shortly anyway! .. right?

The very sharp of hearing might notice the low musical hum in the air, very faint, but gradually intensifying. When the replica shifts position, it's sideways, intending to put himself at a better angle and nearly between the Hyrulian castle and the young woman. The sound isn't unpleasant at all, the humming. But it's as much of a warning as a snake's rattling.

"No." The Queen is done listening to this creature as she straightens herself up, in spite of her wounds. The regal bearing returns. There is a reason why humans who have made pacts are so greatly feared. There's a reason why it's said they can fell armies on their own. It's because there is a definite power there.

The queen throws one of the spears at Luke, then then second, the Dragon's flames surrounding luke, aiming to box him in. If you're going to threaten someone... Do it with something they know is a threat.

Luke doesn't really think that maybe he should tell them what he's up to before threatening them with it, else the threat's lost. Something that's never heard a dog's growl might think it just noise. And given the lack of a really /tough/ fight he's put up so far, assuming he's going to do worse doesn't make sense.

'No.' "Then die!"

At almost exactly the same time she throws the spears, he raises both hands, one soaked with blood, the sword dropped to free the other, the low hum sharpening suddenly, little bits of pale light sharpening into a brilliant white-gold ball of raw energy. The roar of wind alone when it's released in a laserlike blast of power is enough to send small rocks and branches tumbling away, and the spears midair are simply vaporized, never reaching their target. Everything the light touches simply ceases to exist.

Standing in its path is a wildly bad idea, even for Pact-Partners such as the dragon and the Queen. He's misjudged his angle again - whether or not they move, the searing radiance takes out a tree and burns the tops off of several others an alarming distance away in a straight line before dissipating harmlessly into little specks of gold. When the light dies, so too does the unnatural wind it kicked up.

The Dragon darts out of the way. How something that large can move so fast is a mystery, but he easily flies wide of the light beam of death. You don't get as old as he does by dying to things. In his tail is the Little Queen, who pulls herself up and runs up the Dragon's tail to a place on the back of it's neck.

In the Queen's hand is a sword. A sword of one of the fallen soldiers. She waits for her chance, waiting for the light to fade. And then, the moment it's done, she hurls her sword at the replica. It's then, finally, that she looks back at the battle. Hmph. Ruined by a child. Still, she knows what she needs now. What will be required to take this realm as hers. "More than I expected. Damn that filthy peasant."

Luke is distantly both dissapointed and pleased that he failed to hit his targets. He didn't want to kill them, even after all of this.. but it would probably have been better in the long run. He sways in place, unwilling or unable to move. He was tough for a replica. But he'd long since reached the limits of what he can do. It's while he's straightening up, shaking off the disorientation and dizziness as best he can that he's struck again, and the redhead staggers, this time unable to keep his footing, stumbling and falling hard onto his knees, catching himself on both hands.

Ow. It takes a bit of effort to grasp the offending weapon and pull it free, dropping it onto the ground. There's no second attempt to use that power. It was far, far more draining than anyone might ever think. He's not -able- to do anything else, including get back up easily.

They might not know it. They might think him still able to fight, still able to call on another hyperresonance and might choose to leave instead of risk it. He hopes so. Because there's nothing else he can do at all.