Gilgamesh: WORLD TOUR FINALE - In which it is turned up to eleven (Part 1)

[sirusavi]

Who: LOTS OF GODDAMN PEOPLE
Where: Tower of Karazhan, Azeroth
When: May 8th 2009
What: In response to Gilgamesh's reign of terror on the multiverse (The height of which being the abduction of one Tepet Tilis Tirana) the IPA attacks his stronghold in full force. The invaders are many and varied, quite a few with their own personal scores to settle with King of Heroes. True to form however, the Sumerian legends has eyes only for the azure knight among them..
Watch For: Too many cool moments to count. Good job everyone, sorry I was a lazy bum in getting this posted!



When one climbed the tower of a hostile fiend to rescue an innocent princess from his clutches, there were certain expectations. The heroes might anticipate, for example, encountering increasing levels of resistance as they climbed each successive floor. Pit traps, armies of minions, illusions and a powerful singular foe on each level of the fortress would be overcome until the villain himself was finally confronted on the top floor in an epic, drawn-out battle that would be the stuff of legends for ages to come. These were the expected tropes of such an undertaking, as far as convention was concerned.
The King of Heroes had no need for such useless trappings however, resolving to skip to the very last part.
Those who responded to his rather open invitation would find nothing to bar their path on the way up. Indeed, the very entrance of the tower would've swung wide open to accommodate them, presuming the one person he actually cared to receive had been in the entourage. Whatever spirits and other listless creatures make this abode their home shy away from contact, going about their own business and offering no hindrance to the invaders. There seems to be no change in the typically gloomy and vaguely austere atmosphere of the ancient keep from room to room; only the same lingering sense of absence remains, along with the distinct feeling that whatever magic was once used to enchant this place has been choked to as little as necessary and re-directed elsewhere. It should not be difficult to figure out where that was.
The final doorway to the tower's zenith reveals a scene out of another world's distant past.
Compared to the rest of the sanctum's lighting, this mystically converted room shines so bright it may take mortal eyes several seconds to re-adjust. The splendor and wealth of Uruk's Fifth King has been captured at its crest, artifacts and objects of wealth and splendor littering the abode haphazardly amidst vast piles of gold. The very walls themselves seem to be made of the sacred material, decorated with looming red tapestries upon which masterful cuneiform calligraphy has been painted. A large, angled dais begins in the center and leads upwards to a high-rising plateau, the path flanked on both sides by a rank of fifteen-foot statues capturing the likenesses of armed guardsmen, their swords pointed downwards in rest. Each is carved from a different precious stone.
In the midst of all this pomp and excess, at the center of the high-standing stage is the orchestrator of this gathering himself. With gilded armor shining even fiercer than usual (Or is it but his own natural aura of light?), the Golden King sits upon a throne of swords, his own blades commanded into the form of a King's seat, ominous and threatening when set against the overwhelming comforts he seems to enjoy. He idly spins a peerless blade upon its tip as if bored, exhaling a soft sigh, "They take enough time..." He'll murmur, casting a glance towards the large, hanging gilded cage in which his captured songbird resides. Well, there was no doubt he'd not be ignored this time, at the least.
He doesn't speak, gloat or even preen when he becomes aware the intruders have finally entered. The slow, hawkish grin of eagerness on his face speaks well enough. 'Come then, fools...' He thinks, 'A lovely surprise waits for you.' As for the King of Knights...
His grin grew even wider. This night was all for her, after all.

The Tower of Karazahn is eerily empty.

Rin Tohsaka would have expeced a vast array of traps, ancient safeguards. Something, considering what little she knows of the tower's origins. Instead, the place is house only to cobwebs and the occasional lost soul.

Instead, he left it empty. Then again, knowing Gilgamesh, it would be just like him to do that. His only interest is in Saber, in fighting Saber, in owning Saber. He has no regard for anything else at all, though if they make enough of an annoyance of themselves -- as Rin Tohsaka found out -- he will deal with them.

The magus wears her uniform-like London Fog, marching in line with the other attackers. She has under her arm a grimoire of some sort, with her Azoth dagger stuck into the pages, hilt protruding out the top. Gemstones rattle in her pockets. Around her neck and under her collar is the prize pendant of House Tohsaka.

It may not have anything useful in it, but she feels inexplicably better carrying it with her.

"Right." She speaks quietly to the others, then stops, frowning. Her eyes fall closed, her hand raised with fingers splayed to test the prana. Quickly, though, lest it burn her. It's like a ravening beast, here, and it gives her the sensation of her hair standing on end. "That's odd. I don't know if the leylines are acting up or if Gilgamesh is trying something, but... be careful, all of you. There's a bounded field at work here. I don't know what he's up to with it, or whether he's aware it's even there."

Her eyes flick back towards the other magi. "Negi, Nita. I'm not going to start the wardings until he--" Here she thumbs toward the tower, "--is good and truly occupied. Saber, the help I was depending on couldn't make it, so I'll be handling keeping your prana as high as I can, while balancing the wardings. The rest of you..." She takes a breath, nad then smiles nastily. "Kick his ass for me, will you?"

She turns to look toward the tower. "I'm ready when the rest of you are. Good luck."

Fortunately, Simon wasn't that badly injured in the scuffle with Zorin Blitz the other night. He needs his vessel intact, and ready for the coming confrontation.

The Symphony is thrumming all around him. It's like being at the bottom of a Tether, only weirder; Simon stays by Rin's side as the magus leads the way up to the top of the tower. He's clad in black combat gear--fatigues, a bulletproof vest, combat boots--and a massive grand daiklave from Creation is slung across his back.

He brought guns, too. He's armed to the teeth.

"I sense it too, whatever it is," Parker murmurs. "Stay alert."

Nita Callahan /didn't/ expect traps. Every time she's gone in to where some mastermind was hiding, there hasn't been any. Threats, yes, but very few actual traps.

Still, she keeps her Manual out in her hand, and Nita's left wrist has a charm bracelet with a good two dozen charms on it. To magical sight, they glow brightly, all of them an almost-finished preprepared - and, more importantly, already powered - spell. She doesn't want to exhaust herself building them from scratch up here. Her down vest's pockets are also stuffed with items, and a peeled rowan rod is put through one of her belt loops.

"Right," Nita says, quietly. There's no real need to be quiet at this distance but she does it anyway. "If he comes for you, I'll protect you as best I can, I've got defensive spells on this too." She raises her left hand slightly, then lets it fall.

Offensive ones, too. Nita doesn't have to warn Gilgamesh again, not when somebody's life is at risk. And here, lots of people's lives are at risk. She's actually looking forward to using some of them... and feels vaguely bad for it, but only a little.

Not long ago, Maria wouldn't consider taking this field today. She'd send the others in and sit back, watching, and worried that she would be a liability. That any further altercations would turn into a bothersome hostage situation. However, tonight already was a hostage situation so it'd be absolutely moot.

Deep down inside Maria ultimately had one desire for the night anyway. Vengence. Of course she was concerned wth recovering Tirana and ending this constant threat Gilgamesh has made of himself in his search of Saber. Really though, this pompus ass had insulted her and her organization and she would not let it stand.

Taking point of the assault group, she surveys her allies with an impassive gaze, Gorehowl bouncing lightly against her shoulder. For tonight, she has opted to go with light, form-fitting leather hide armor. It doesn't look like much protection, in fact it almost looks like something an aviator would wear, right up to the scarf but minus the goggles. In a few seconds, it wouldn't matter, not as she unleashes the full power of her Legend and of the Aegis, encircling her with a white light and shifting her skin into a stone that resembles marble.

In contrast, Gorehowl seems to emit a faint red haze of its own, perhaps the Legend of that particular weapon drawn forth. "Let's go."

All things considered, Tirana has come around to realizing just how blessed her life really was. Sure, life on the farm had never been easy, but feeding the chickens and tending to the horses was a lot easier than the past three days. Three days in the same cage suspended precariously in the air. Three days being stuck in lovely Karazhan, with her essence tingling with the feeling of something horribly ominous just waiting beyond all those treasures. Three days of having little room to move, let alone dance. Three days of staring at the same golden objects, day or night, and let her tell you just how hard it is to sleep with all that brightness surrounding her.

Worst of all was three days of sharing a room with one Gilgamesh, King of Heroes. His taste in music left her with singing quietly to herself lest she incur his wrath and another heavy object goes careening off of her bird cage. Outside of one shared musical moment, there had been nothing more shared between the two other than occasional mutterings of 'blasted songbird' and 'I am a Dynast, thank you.' The rest of the time was left in eerie quiet in which the Archer contemplated his last conquest while the young Terrestrial stared sorrowfully at him from the corner of her cage.

Three days of trying to keep up her hope and cheer in the face of fear, sorrow, and madness incarnate. It had been hard, really hard. As she reminded herself, however, over and over again: She has friends. Love will always win in the end. There will be a happy ending.

Now if they will just hurry up...

Shane has not had the privilege to fight against Gilgamesh yet but so what? Should it really matter just how dangerous he might be based on the reports? His friend (and temporary roommate) has been taken and though Gilgamesh's taste in 'partners' might be somewhat questionable, he simply cannot leave Tirana in that guy's hands.

He is following closely behind Maria, casual clothing exchanged for leather and mail armor. It takes a little getting used to, but the added weight does not seem to bother him all -that- much. He remains empty handed though as he follows Maria up the stairs and deeper into the tower.

He frowns slightly at the lack of.. well -things-. Surely there should be a trap or a mob or even a single dangerous and deadly beast! Isn't that how things are -supposed- to go? But instead, they are greeted by nothing and he wonders at Gilgamesh's arrogance. He hovers close to Maria's side, not even blinking twice as she encases herself in the white marble armor. "I don't like this..."

Jade only knew two things: 1) there was some crazy stalker guy holed up on this tower, and 2) he had Tirana kidnapped. Reason two was in fact why she'd come along with, and also why she'd spent time going through (gasp!) some of the older reports on that Gilgamesh guy.
He sure had a thing for blondes...

Compared to some of the others here, Jade looks remarkably under-geared for this expedition. She's dressed in her normal casual wear, and aside from a bow as tall as she is slung about her shoulders, that's it. Well, and a certain relic tucked in a pocket, but that's not immediately visible. Her expression is decidedly and defiantly grim. "Let's take this asshole down." A hand reaches up, touching the bowstring a moment. So what if this guy's an Archer-whatever. She'll show him what a real archer can do.

Negi Springfield has had a turbulent few weeks. The battle in Creation took its toll on him - an intensity of fighting he hadn't seen before, that shook him to the bone. But Evangeline was right about one thing - he did need to see that, to be ready for a similar intensity everyone seemed to be expecting today. He wonders if he is strong enough - wonders if he should get someone's guidance, or should have. That, too, was part of Eva's plan, not that he could know that. He's left Asuna behind - the girl worried sick, but in the end, Negi's insistence that she be safe and Chamo's assurances that he would be protected won out. SHe will probably be extra mean for the next week.

He is the shortest here by simplest virtue of being nine years old, dressed in a paradoxically nice polo shirt and slacks, but over that is thrown a long, tattered leather coat that belonged to his father, much too large for him. The pockets are filled with items from Negi's personal magical collection; from one sticks his magic gun, another a series of backup wands in case his Staff is thrown from his hand. His staff is in hand, standing taller than he. Alberto Chamomile, his ermine spirit familiar and confidant, is curled around his shoulders. The situation is serious, and these people don't seem to understand the weight of the suggestion, so when Rin mentions managing prana levels, he keeps his yap shut beyond a wistful sigh. It'd solve so many problems! Negi, apparently knowing he's thinking it, looks down at his familiar out of the corner of his eye, shaking his head with a very tiny, worried smile. Then he looks back up, nodding at Rin and Nita. "I have some equipment from my collection," he says. "It should make the process easier. I can help with defense, as well." And offense. Much like Nita, he doesn't mention that part; they want him to defend the spells. If he /needs/ to start launching Magic Archery or bigger artillery, so be it, but he'll focus on what they need him for before that.

It's weird, really. When Soma first went out to check on Shanoa after Tirana's capture - one just never knows, does one? - he hadn't considered the possibility of asking the Glyph Master along. And yet when he had hunted for any excuse other than the original purpose of his actions to explain to her, it'd seem natural to suggest that's exactly what he'd come for. And after that, it all fit into place. The young vampire hunter has a companion with him this evening, a woman some people might remember from the formal ball if they saw her - by herself or dancing with Soma. Of course, she probably isn't in the ball gown, this time.
Soma himself has come as equipped as he usually does, though his sword for the evening is an ornate, two-handed piece vested in holy power. Other than that and a set, almost turned-inward expression that suggests mental preparation, there isn't much that stands out about him to the naked eye.

On the approach of the tower, there's something written in the gaze of the Glyph Mage that makes it seem almost as though she were expecting someone like this Gilgamesh to hide himself away in a grand stone building. A castle unto himself-- an irony that should not escape her, nor the young man that had asked her to come along on this excursion into the lion's den.

Striding to this tower seemingly completely unarmed and half-clothed in her usual backless dress and thigh-high armored boots, Shanoa starts playing back the prior battle with Gilgamesh in her mind. Her weapons didn't work as well as they should of, and the gold-clad man had little problems warding away the likes of herself, as well as Soma. Still, it seemed as though the Magic Glyphs she had cast were more effective in the battle against him-- and part of her considers standing back and allowing the others gathered here to take the front-line, direct assault against the King of Heroes unless the need arises.

Slender fingers pinch the cuff of the young man's sleeve, and the tattooed woman speaks in hushtones, with her heavy European accent: "It just is not the same as 'the old days' for either of us, is it?"

She had almost expected a grander tower.

It certainly would have been in keeping with his twisted personality to have something built from the ground up as opposed to simply appropriating one which already existed. Even if theleylines themselves were what had made this ancient place valuable to him, for all his pompousness, it was -- by what she had judged to be his 'standards-- rather sedate. Rather, it seemed that way until they entered the lair of the First Hero-King of mankind.

% The 'guest of honour' herself cast a jaundiced eye on the scene, making no effort to hide her now visible distaste. Tacky, and quite befitting her despised foe. Saber was keenly aware that, if her were to have his way, she would be another of these objects to be added to his collection. Well, she had no intention of acquiescing. Her purpose here was twofold: to rescue LadyTirana , and to put an end to the rampage of the King of Heroes.

The King of Knights had insisted on taking the front; with Gilgamesh focused completely on her, the others should have an easier time with their own parts in this. However, as arrogant and careless as he could be, the Golden King was nevertheless a shrewd opponent. Even devoting most of his attention to her, there would be any number of ways he could deal with those she accompanied. They would have to be careful.

The only sound she made as she wound her way up to the epicentre issued from her that of the soft metallic sound of her silver, azure-etched battle armour. But she stopped abruptly in mid-stride as she felt the subtle movement ofprana . To be sure, the natural flow was being redirected into the highest point of the tower, but there was something else. Something she was quite familiar with: a sorcery very much like the one concealing her own celestial sword.

"Do you sense it?" she asked the young magus next to her. Surely if she sensed it, Rin would as well.

It isn't far. The group gathered at the tower wasn't hard to find, though Sakura was still horrifically embarassed at her own lateness. Rin had stated be there, and she knew her sister's punctuality. It wasn't her fault, honestly; all the clocks at the Tohsaka household were set back one hour - the younger magus hadn't even noticed the time difference until the news appeared on the radio an hour "early."

Quickly gathering the last of the things her sister wanted, she'd fled through the gate system - lost momentarily, at all the gates approaching the tower - and had barely arrived to see the forces arrayed before them. It was with no small amount of trepidation that Sakura ran to, and through, the group of warriors and magi ready to begin - she has but one place to be, and apologizes profusely in passing as she moves heaven and earth to occupy it.

And stands at Rin's side. "I...I'm sorry I'm late, but I brought everything...

"At last, Saber."

Heaving with a heavy sigh, throwing his shoulders about as if shrugging off the weight of ages, Gilgamesh rose languidly from his throne to address the King of Knights, and only her. Crimson eyes meet green unwaveringly; For the King of Heroes, nothing else seems to exist...neither the compatriots at her side or the myriad splendors of his occupied abode. Only long enough, though, for him to catch an inevitable twinge of enmity not doubt waiting in those stoic, tempestuous windows to the other servant's soul.

"It wouldn't have been necessary to go through such trouble..." The King begins his descent and speech smoothly, the sword-fashioned throne unraveling behind him with a cacophony of steel glinting off steel in perfect and dangerous order, a blade striking firmly into the ground where each step of his sabaton-clad feet have left their presence, "...If you were not such a stubborn woman to romance." Those ominous statues groan like titans into movement, raising and crossing their enormous blades in the air with those of their brethren in presentiment of their King. Leylines and prana twist and float freely in the air. There was no need for restraint in a place like this, nigh everything he had to present openly on display.

"I see you brought guests." A savage, ancient gaze lilts only now to acknowledge the many others who have come to challenge him...some of which he recognizes, while others remain unknown. That amused, likely aggravating smile does not leave his face. "They'll make the reception quite lively. Those that are left, anyways." Yawning, a lone finger rises into the air, pointing at some obscure location only his mind seems to know, "Fortunately, I am not an ungenerous host. Their entertainment has been arranged."

A spike of eldritch power accompanies the Hero-King's words to those who can sense it, perhaps necessary if it was still slumbering. "Wake up, now..." The Servant murmurs, blonde brows twitching affably, "The meal I promised you has arrived, do you remember?" Those eyes, moving to the Tohsaka girl and her compatriots in the back, hold nothing that bodes well, "Those mongrels in the back are bleeding it, can't you tell?"

He'll let -that- matter take care of itself. As for everyone else?

"I believe I have already said it." The armory of Uruk rises into the air at his back, the Gate was all around him here, "But it bears repeating." A disdainful glare regards those who stand alongside Saber at the front, "Only the worthy may approach the seat of the King." A wall of sharpened steel flies at the front rank of the invaders, though the King of Knights is spared such a dismissive gesture. It is for her the Sumerian races, a gleaming blade in his hand, "Come, Saber!!!" His face is filled with an unrestrained, chaotic glee as he leaps from midway down the dais, descending upon the diminutive swordswoman with a powerful falling blow.

There are other denizens who call Karazhan home besides the dead and the Golden King. Most obey because Gilgamesh is master of the Keep, some few obey out of fear, and one or two out of greed. The promise of power can be a powerful lure to many creatures, not only humanoids, and called upon, far below in the Celestial Observatory, one of those who favored avarice stirs awake and then melts away into the astral plane. Doors, walls, floors - none of it is meaningful there, and makes the passage between one part of the keep and another completely effortless, a single beat of ephemeral wings.

Netherspite's been aware of tresspassers. He's been aware of people invading the Keep more than once and attacking the King who now claimed it. Hadn't that same King offered him power and glory in trade for his obedience? It wouldn't be the first time he's bowed his head to the mighty in exchange for more than he now had, and with the change in the flow of energy through Karazhan, he knew he'd be called on to ... help. If that was all that was required of him, then the nether dragon would kill without hesitation. He knew the power Gilgamesh already had, and craved it for his own. All he had to do was obey.

So obey he does.

The ether is torn asunder in the thunder of wings and the sudden crunch of weight against the floor, the nether dragon phasing into tangibility directly in the center of all this mess, seething raw malevolence. Netherspite is an adult of his breed, massive on a scale that only dragons and giants seem capable of and strangely translucent, as if only partially in this reality at all. Purple energy wisps off his frame with every twitch and motion, but neither it nor the transparency seem to stop his claws from digging grooves into the floor as he orients himself. There, the new master..

And these, the targets. Such wretched, scrabbling little mice.

The dragon inhales slowly, relishing the scents of the mana each and every one of these little mice have. And then his head snaps down, jaws gaping, for the newest arrival. Not only is she strangely colored for humanity, she would be a veritable feast of sheer energy!

The magus glances up toward the tower itself, eyes narrowed just a bit against the hazy glare that permeates the area. It seems like this place never sees the sun, and the barren earth has forgotten what it is. It wouldn't surprise her in the least.

"Heh." Rin flicks half a glance to Simon and his ginormous grand daiklave, then her eyes turn toward the tower again. She's gauging the distance, as well as reading into the enchantments surrounding it. Behind it all, the leyline thrums, powerful enough to rattle her very bones, vibrating in her teeth. It's overbearing enough to make her feel nauseous, moreso the closer they come to Karazahn itself, but she forces it back.

Shanoa earns a bit of a speculative glance. Let's see what you can do, it seems to say. Meanwhile, more pressing matters lie with her fellow magi.

"Perfect. I could augment defense and offense, but I'll have my hands full with the wardings. Trying to do anything with these leylines is like trying to ride a bucking bronco..." She casts another speculative glance toward the tower, then at some unseen middle point between their position and Karazahn.

Hmm. This is going to take some work.

Blue eyes flick sidelong toward Saber. "Of course I do. Only an amateur wouldn't. My only question is what it is. As far as I know, he shouldn't know any advanced Magecraft. So what the hell would he be doing with a bounded field?"

She rubs her chin with her free hand, frowning. "Well, I guess we'll find out soon enough. Onward and upward. Have fun storming the castle," she adds, waving a hand toward the forward guard. "I'll begin establishing the warding when I'm sure he's distracted. The second you have his attention, we're starting."

She turns, just as Sakura comes puffing up the pathway. "There you are." Rin looks relieved. "I thought you were lost or something. You brought everything? Great. We're going to need it. /All/ of it."

It's a relatively quick trip up the tower, one that leaves Rin cursing endless stairwells.

She stops near the back of the array, arranging herself in front of Sakura, somewhat protectively. Her free hand is out, already prepared to fire off Gandr as a warning shot.

"Watch it," she grates out between grit teeth. "He's doing something. Oh, shit," she adds, feeling the impatient surge of power. "The rest of you, keep him busy! Magi, to me!"

Her voice drops into a hiss. "It's showtime! Negi, Nita, be prepared to back me up! Sakura, get out what gems you've brought with you and begin a circle! I'll fill in the runes, we have no time for me to do it alone. Once it's up, I want you focusing on Saber and keeping her prana as high as you can. I showed you how to do it; it's not difficult. You'll do fine," she adds, somewhat urgently, already poised to begin filling in the gaps the moment Sakura starts sketching a circle. In molten gem, of course. Blood is so old-fashioned... and they're in a hurry. They don't have time to wait for someone to bleed.

It's the only thought on her mind -- hurry, hurry... hurry, hurry... their time here is going to be limited. More so, if Gilgamesh tears through that front rank as quickly as she's afraid he might.

Half a glance is then cast toward the arriving dragon and its tremendous thunderclap of wings, and a look of absolute horror as the monster goes for her sister.

Rin acts without thinking. She flings a gem at the dragon from between her fingers; the thing will explode in brilliant power, perhaps augmented greatly by the presence of the leylines. It may hurt Netherspite -- it may not. Either way, it may be good for a surprise!

Her voice is a sudden, surprisingly loud bellow at about the same time. "STOP THAT DRAGON!"

"Oh no you /don't/!" Simon cries. The Seraph hums something under his breath, tapping precious, precious Essence. The air around him whips into a frenzy, an impenetrable shield of Essence surrounds the Seraph, and he (and anyone near him) are protected from the initial salvo of flying Sumerian cutlery.

Then space tears and bends, and the Symphony screams. Simon's eyes widen in surprise as a FREAKING DRAGON appears from out of nowhere, and tries to take a bite out of one of the people in the back rank. "Heads up!" he cries, perhaps being redundant--but as Gilgamesh charges Saber, he too charges Gilgamesh. The shield protecting Simon falls away as he draws the grand daiklave, slashing viciously at the Gilded King's side.

Maria Goddamn Tegawa would not be /dismissed/.

With a sharp gesture of her hand, the Aegis shines bright with a flash of power and a dome-shaped shield erupts around the lawyer (and anyone close enough to be covered by the five foot radius bubble). Metal slams against the barrier, then skitters noisily to the ground in a heap around the tiny demigoddess.

She starts her advance on the King of Heroes, axe raised high, when the dragon appears overhead. She stays her hand, then glares upwards at the creature through her glasses. "...I will not have this..." she grits her teeth, scowling. Their preparation, they're planning, she would /not/ have it shot to hell. Nor would she be denied her vengence. Her weapon is shifted to one hand and a smooth motion summons the Spear of Truth out of its hidden form on her person.

"ENOUGH! COME!" With a mighty motion, she slams the butt of the spear of truth down upon the stone floor. "PYTHON!"

The entire structure rumbles with a sudden earthquake, the loud hissing screech of some kind of /creature/ echoing throughout the stairwell. This is the only warning received before an enormous viper-like serpent violently crashes its way through the wall behind the throne of swords.

With a curt motion, Maria gestures upwards at the beast flying overhead. Immediately, Python rears up, massive jaw gaping open, and strikes for its underbelly.

The brightest sounds she's heard in what seems like ages come in the rush of footsteps at the entrance to the grand room. Tirana clambers over to the edge of the cage closest to them, her lips cracking as they burst into the brightest smile she's ever put on. Never has she been as happy as she was this evening! "Oh! You have arrived! Dragons bless you all!"

The corner of her eye catches the ornate procession of the Golden King, and for a moment she wonders if his Plan For Meddlers involves gigantic golems. She can say this for him: He certainly has a flair for this sort of thing. However, that is not the case, for while they remain in place someone else appears (literally) from the nether. From dismal boredom to ecstatic joy to abject horror in a matter of minutes, its one hell of an emotional roller coaster. She recoils back to another corner, putting as much distance as possible between herself and Netherspite. Of course its not until the dragon goes after Sakura - Sakura! - that she realizes she might be the safest one in the room. At least up here he can't take a bite out of her, and she can remain safe until the baddies are put in their proper place.

A glance is stolen towards the clash of King of Heroes and King of Knights.

Blasted songbird.

There's a gnaw of her lip, and the Exalt scrambles back to the nearest bars. Her voice is creaky but the situation demands volume. "Simon! Jade! Get me down from here! I, um, I can be of some help!"

Did the wall just explode behind her? Tirana takes a quick look behind her and gasps before fixing her attention on one Maria Tegawa, Python Summoner. "Oh dragons."

Nita Callahan puts up with the stairs. For a change, she does this without complaining even /once/ about them, although she's breathing a little harder near the top of it; Nita is an excellent mage, and she's in okay shape, but she isn't built for the endless run or even walk up an incline. Her knees hurt. So do her feet.

She puts both out of her mind as best she can. "Right," Nita repeats, unhooking one of the many charms on her bracelet. It looks like a little shield; she digs her thumbnails into it and yanks, peeling it apart into delicate strings of words, pulsing with silver light as her premade spell starts to activate.

Nita whips it around in an arc, and it draws a circle of its own just outside the other; hers is the buffer, the deflective, reflective shield around Rin's central core that keeps a solid hit from landing against the wards, protecting them from the brute-force approach she expects Gilgamesh would use to try to shatter it.

And then - holy crap a dragon. And a giant snake. Nita has seen both before, although not /these/ particular ones, but they're still a startlement. She tenses, then forces herself to relax, funneling power not into her outer ward yet - she needs Rin's to be up first - but something else.

Nita detaches a perfectly spherical charm from her bracelet, loops a string of letters from it around her finger, and throws it at Netherspite's snout. It accelerates as it moves, growing into a shimmering silver ball of bundled kinetic force; when it hits, it discharges the raw force of a car slamming into a solid wall, the ball zipping back to Nita's hand like a demented yo-yo.

"Hey!" Jade's quick to shout out at Gilgamesh's appearance. "You give Tirana back, or--" The bow's unslung from about her shoulders, and she draws the mighty longbow back with a creak. Quite nonchalantly, an arrow appears in the empty bow, seeming almost as if it could have always been there. "--Or show's over, you got it?!"
This is before a veritable storm of sharp pointy objects comes raining down upon her, before she can even so much as squawk in alarm. Jade might be fast sometimes. However, she's not especially divinely nimble. She gets slammed and sliced by more than a few of the weapons before steely storm's ended. And that arrow? It goes flying, lost, as she loses her grip.

AND THEN HOLY SHIT THERE WAS A DRAGON.
Jade's eyes widen as she whirls, staring on up at the descending beast, but the shock doesn't last longer than a heartbeat. Her eyes in fact fix on something far above even that terror: a small cage high up, with a small figure shouting /quite loudly/ from within.. A glance towards the dragon reveals that Maria's on that, so--

The bow's reslung over a shoulder, before Jade roots in a pocket for a certain object: a pocketwatch. It's hastily popped open, and after smearing blood on it from an oozing wound on her shoulder, the Scion invokes her birthright of the rainlord. She begins to float, hovering off the ground at first, before soaring upward at a steady clip, beelining for the caged Dynast.

"Huh?" The touch on his sleeve brings Soma's attention out from his momentary lapse. Probably better out here than inside, really. He looks at the tower, then toward Shanoa again with a puzzled expression. "Not real--" Then uncertainty, "Wait, you mean..."
Whether it is or is not like the good old days might be best left unsaid. For one, there's plenty of people to overhear the questions Soma might have asked the Glyph Mage. So he shrugs, instead and offers, "Well we're both used to entering some castle or tower and fighting undead and demonic forces," he points out. Yes, he would have briefed her on what's to be expected in that tower. "I guess that hasn't changed."
But that's all he really has time to say before everyone is moving forward, moving into the tower to confront the King of Heroes. And there, the familiar, golden clad figure. Words. Silver eyes search the room, seeking the reaction of his companions, the wellbeing of the caged Tirana, the possibility that even Gilgamesh would not be so arrogant as to believe he could take all of them.
And that in itself is proven as Netherspite phases into reality with a tangible rush of power. Soma once mentioned he'd never seen or fought a dragon, not two days ago. Funny how things work out. Right now, he's almost wishing he hadn't said that. As Saber becomes the forcus of Gilgamesh in all his glory, the young man forces himself to look to the massive creature.
Sword is drawn and he moves forward to close the distance between himself and the drake. "Shanoa..."
Well he's counting on her, but he doesn't have to say it, right?
Even as he closes, Soma releases a volley of severa flaming projectiles toward the creature's head. When in doubt, start with fire.

Negi watches Gilgamesh talk with a nervous energy building up in his chest. It's like Evangeline, he thinks - that total self-assurance, even when he's facing odds that anyone else wouldn't even think twice about running away from. Part of him wonders if Evangeline could fight this. Part of him wonders if she could teach him how to fight this.

He looks over, suddenly sensing both the coming energy and Gilgamesh unleashing his own power. He grips his staff, nodding as Rin calls the magicians to battle. He watches, getting ready to support Rin's magic and defend the --

Dragon. Someone screams like a girl. It might've been Chamo, considering he has just skittered down and is now hiding in Negi's shirt. Negi himself hisses a terrified breath. Dragons are not to be toyed with - they are powerful denizens of the Magic World, creatures of immense strength. Negi can fight demons, destroy golems, conquer vampires, but a dragon...! He feels his resolve falter.

Rin screams out. Chamo wails, "OH YOU DON'T ASK MUCH, DO YA!?" But Negi feels it boil in him - protect her. He's here to protect these people, because somebody has to, and everyone else might be too busy, and oh there's Python taking care of it. Negi blinks, a little dumbfounded. The speed of the battle is already enough that he has trouble keeping up. He has to keep his reserves high, right now. He can't afford to waste energy so early on.

But that's why he brought that magic gun. He draws it out of its resting space in his belt, leveling it up at the dragon above and firing several pinpoint shots, BLAM, BLAM, BLAM.

"Got to wait..." he mutters, an impatient worry burning in his heart.

Shane nearly comes to a halt in his dash towards the throne room where Gilgamesh sits. He.. is a lot prettier and shinier than what the Irishman was imagining. With a startled blink of surprise he barely has time to react to the sudden wave of swords. "What the?!" But there's a blonde woman in front of him. Perhaps this is the precious Saber he's been looking for? His nostrils flare as he raises his hand, his spear appearing.

He parries one and then another but a third gets through is defenses in cuts his cheek. "Ghh!" But he won't let something like a rain of swords stop him from doing what needs to be done. Namely take down Gilgamesh. Unfortunately, something else has decided to join the fray and at RIn's cry to 'save' someone, he jerks his head back and up. ".. Oh bloody -hell-," he curses and then is stuck between the two. Gilgamesh or the dragon.

A quick look indicates that the thing is going after Sakura, one of the magi. But then Maria summons Python and Shane knows what he has to do. He dashes outwards, deftly avoiding the magical flares around him as his feet find purchase upon the familiar's tail and then back. He wraps his legend about him, calling upon the wind to help him stay upright.

When the scion reaches the top of Python's head, he leaps forward and up towards the Dragon's back, coming down with his lance as he lets a mighty yell. "HEY! HEY YEH FAT UGLY LIZARD! SPECIAL DELIVERY!" Some warcry.

A wind stirs within Karazhan.

The wind sweeps through doors, whipping around corners. The wind passes creatures of shadow and darkness, who shudder as if something had, for a moment, hung over them. The wind streaks through dusty, web-strewn halls, clouds kicked up behind it.

And then the wind whips up the stairs, into the ancient grand hall atop the tower. Netherspite crouches above the small army, preparing to destroy the interlopers at the behest of the King of Heroes... And the wind passes around it, swirling. A blur can be seen, for a moment...

And then there is a ringing sound, a tracery of light that cuts past the dragon. Then another. And another, all in many directions. A dozen streaks cut past the great dragon, before a familiar voice is heard.

"Hey everyone! Looks like I'm a little late." Casually walking up atop the head of the dragon, Mercade Alexander stands there adjusting his fedora. "So, big dragon, eh? Shall we begin?" He flicks a hand out, and with a ringing noise, a long, ancient blade whips from its coat seemingly of its own accord, spinning into his grip.

Netherspite might have a bad feeling about letting this thing stay above him.

"I mean more the fool that awaits us, rather than what we--I-- met." The change is made almost pointedly, and the slightest hints of a smirk that had crawled onto Shanoa's features bleeds away into a more stern face.
They move forward, into the tower and climbing it's vast heights, sprawling and tall. Along the way, the Glyph Mage makes sure she keeps an eye on her companions, be it people she knows or not-- the woman with the shield and once-hide armor, with a remarkable and commanding aura. The child-- child?!-- and well, Shane will be Shane. Rin is recognized well enough, though the girl that rushes to assist her is new-- something she'll have to remember in the future, much like the whole of these people.
Introductions can come later.
Faced with Gilgamesh-- and a -dragon-?!-- Shanoa's tattoos flare with mystic energy, her attention turned first to the blades and weapons that start heading the way of the front line of fighters. Soma calls her name, and she responds with an automatic movement; black wings explode from her bare shoulderblades and cast her aloft in the chamber just high enough to keep a good view of the action. Her right arm swings first in a swift gesture, flinging her own set of three fireballs with one arm-- and repeating the process with a swift gesture from the left, sending a total of six burning flames the dragon's way.
"Ignis!!"

Sea-green eyes met crimson ones defiantly, refusing to submit even a little. She wanted nothing more than to end his tyranny once and for all, to be rid of the wretched man and resume her quest. The answer to his grand speech was, once more, a soft, disproving 'tch' and aquamarine fire.

"I want no part of you nor your /games/, Gilgamesh," the tiny swordswoman replied, her voice more even than usual when dealing with him. Perhaps it was because she expected this to be their final battle. It was not unlike Heaven's Feel itself, in a way; this was the inevitable conclusion of the War for the Holy Grail. Whether the King of Heroes wished otherwise, one would have to defeat -- and kill-- the other. Like the sun and the moon, as he had told her not long ago. What he refused to see was that, like them, they too were destined to be enemies until the end of time itself.

What she had -not- expected was for Gilgamesh to come charging at her immediately. However, she had no time to ponder why it was that she was spared from the deadly rain of metal. Raising the wind-cloaked, otherworldly sword high, Saber charged with a determined war-cry and a blinding speed no naked human eye could possibly hope to follow. If it was a one-on-one he desired, it would be the one wish of his that she would /ever/ grant.

Yet even as she raced towards her nemesis, her peripheral vision caught sight of the others launching their own attacks on the Golden King. But she had no time to consider them, nor even the great, vengeful creature that had unexpectedly appeared. She would not deny them their own part in this battle, but the price would be that the Once and Future King of Britain could spare them no idle thought. She must put everything into the fight. And, she would doubtless be forced to reveal her true identity by calling on the True Name of her Noble Phantasm.

But for the moment, Excalibur easily met the blade Gilgamesh wielded. Their swords rang out in a symphony of steel, and the wind of her own Bounded Field rushing about the combatants and threatening to cleave the very armour from Gilgamesh's body from the intense pressure alone. Nothing needed to be said by the King of Knights. As it always had, a more powerful voice --her invisible blade-- spoke for her.

As she arrives at Rin's side, Gilgamesh seems to take notice of the arrival of the entire party. She stares at him, the splendor and glory like something out of a Conan film - giant temple, stairsteps, throne...all it needed was a host of chanting worshipers and a giant snake. And that suddenly gets taken care of. Sakura stares, fixed in fear, as the Golden King stands and calls forth a giant dragon, an ancient beast from history that in Japan is a good omen, but this is no ryuu - this is something seen in the worst nightmares of special effects directors.

Rin prepares her for what's about to come, and she nods, dropping to one knee - covering the skirt in dust - and begins uttering the german phrases Rin had taught her. She doesn't know their proper meanings, only what the components are supposed to do; it's not unlike a person reading a programming book and typing in what they are told. But it doesn't last. The nightmare of moviemakers comes true, as the giant dragon lunges for Sakura.

It's all she can do to push her sister out of the way, as Netherspite roars at her. Her own scream is drowned out under the beast's Sakura's feet scrabble across the stones and through the beginnings of the ritual, propelling her just far enough to clear the giant serpent's maw; the hot breath of the beast washes over her in a wave - as does the outside of the beast. It's not unlike a puppy being cuddled by an alligator, the impact sends the violet-haired magus skidding along the ground at the feet of her sister. At least she's managed to keep ahold of the gems.

Soma's arrows, and Negi's magic gunfire, arc over the prone magus. She scrabbles away from the beast, as it's momentarily distracted - incoming fire having the right of way, after all - and shakily regains her feet after recovering Azeroth and the gems she'd dropped. As she looks back at the beast, she also sees the powerful serpent spirit Maria summoned tearing at it, like two snakes wrestling, and stares a moment at the awe of the spectacle.

Why she was saved, she doesn't know; a person like her isn't worth it no matter what Agrias says. And then she realizes the blonde knight isn't there. The Vanguard Captain, missing a fight like this? She knows instinctively the cause of Agrias' absence, and anger grows deep in her heart, focused towards herself. Why does she survive when the best, the worthiest are cut down? How many here will fall as well?

Until she hears Rin begin her Ten Count, and gets back to work. The melancholy is shattered by the same overwhelming self-control that survived her through ten years of Matou experiments. One knee again - ignoring the tear in the skirt and abrasions on her legs and arm - and begin following the German words. The gems in her hand melt, spreading and pouring down into the formation of a simple warding circle and the giant supply of mana flowing through and around her something she can virtually feel.

So will Netherspite.

Oh, Soma, never doubt the Golden King's absolutely unflappable swagger; He simply doesn't want anyone distracting him from his all-too personal engagement with Saber. Still, The First Hero ignores the defenders of Intergalactic Peace and Order at his own peril, with Simon scoring a glancing blow along his side. His armor, being made of his own considerable prana and reinforced beyond even those exceptional parameters by virtue of Karazhan won't rend so easily even by a blow from a Daiklave of Creation. Yet, the rugged force behind that sweep cannot be disregarded, and it is only with some fancy footwork on his part that the King of Heroes avoids being knocked completely off-course, meeting Saber at a steeper angle than he'd planned. "Blasted Angel..."

Much to his delight, Saber nonetheless meets the monarch head-on. The very air resonates with power and force as blade clashes with legendary blade. It is not just any sword Gilgamesh has chosen for the occasion, but one of the four treasures of Ireland itself: Claiomh Solais, Blade of the burning dawn, said to near be Excalibur's own equal in certain circles. Powerful winds rip and rend at Gilgamesh's armored form, a fierce storm of physical and spiritual proportions weaving around the the two combatants. He meets that clash with all his strength, ignoring the slight blood-drawing cuts the sharp winds dig in his cheeks, the twisting of his pauldrons in nature's rage. He leans his whole body down on her, using his own superior height and what limited physics obey heroic souls of their caliber...and surprisingly finds himself forced back.

"Heh!" With a wild smirk, the Archer steps back several paces, Claiomh Solais burning fiercely, "As I thought, you -are- stronger in a place like this. That along with your attitude is perfectly suited to the climax of these events." He assumes a lower, deadlier stance with hungry eyes, "I shall enjoy breaking that defiant spirit...hm?"

The familiar, loathsome sounds of a serpentine hiss actually manages to re-direct the servant's attention long enough to grimace in outrage as the undulating reptile crashes recklessly into his hearth. That upstart godling had brought the thing here, that much was apparent, and it is upon Maria his ire now momentarily turns. "You..." He reaches within the gate, again bringing forth the device any divine creature ought to fear, the simple and deadly effective Chain of Heaven, ".../Dare/ to call forth a serpent in my presence?!" With one free arm, he'll lash that bothersome keepsake at the Scion like a lasso around her waist. If it finds purchase...well, she can expect to try resisting a herculean effort as the Golden servant puts his considerable strength into an attempt to fling the woman over his head and away, releasing the chain's grasp on a hopeful trajectory with the other invader going after his captive.

"No manners at all..." He'll mutter, irrespective of his attack's success, "Now then..." Turning a keen eye towards Saber, the Golden King advance once more. The Irish blade shines with the blinding light of the sun, its extant heat so considerable that Saber may find her own armor smoking by proximity as it cleaves out towards her side.

Rin doesn't pay attention to her allies' antics. She might, but these wardings demand her full and undivided attention. These leylines are like working with pure power. The consequences for inattenion will be dire.

Even as she sketches in molten gem, moving as quickly as she can, Rin calls out orders to her more magically-inclined allies.

It doesn't take long for the wardings to establish themselves, shaky. There's nothing to see -- they're invisible, to those who can't see Magecraft or magic.

"It's up." Rin delivers this in a shout, even as she starts patching holes in it. "Negi! Nita! Start reinforcing if you can!"

Ah, and there comes Nita's shielding. "Good," she states, eyes fixed at some point halfway down the floor. "Sakura, start redirecting prana to Saber."

For the nonce, she doesn't pay attention to the melee battle. She can't. Instead, her eyes are fixed on the binding circle, ever-expanding under her meticulous direction; the circle itself is drawn in molten gem, carefully directed with the occasional touch of a finger -- shielded with Magecraft against the heat -- or a prod of her Azoth dagger.

Their numbers do not frighten Netherspite. Nor their strength; he was promised power, all he had to do was take it. So long as the King of Heros maintained his power, his surity at winning this battle, so long as the buffet of that massive energy field can be felt from the clash of Saber and Gilgamesh, the dragon will obey. He fights only for his own gain.

Massive jaws snap closed on nothing, his chosen prey much nimbler than he'd expected even if it was on /accident/, and his aim kicked awry by the concussive force of Nita's spell; he'll pay the little mage back for that soon enough, by the shriek of anger he gives voice to, maw gaping wide again, this time to spew a torrent of arcane power at the wizard - and everything and anything near her. It /looks/ harmless, little whirls and eddies of faint purple energy. It isn't, as fully potent as any dragonfire could be. The yelling and confusion are delicious, a wonderful reminder of his first home and how the Broken would flee before him like startled talbuk, but he'd truly prefer an actual snack as opposed to simply frightening them. With so much evidenced mana there for the devouring--

And then there's Python. As the great serpent rushes upwards towards scaled belly, the dragon twists to meet it with hooked talons instead of softer flesh and folds his wings, intending to directly /land/ on the thing like a hawk might a garden snake. He has incredible weight to bring to bear, and if he can ground it, lashes out with wings and tail at anyone hapless enough to be within their reach. Negi's gunfire doesn't go unnoticed, peppering along transparent scales and ripping through delicate wing membranes, but he'll have to be handled later, with more pressing matters to attend to, like the spear suddenly wedged in the thick scales of his back.

The threat of Mercade will also have to wait, even if he chooses to remain perched on the beast's head. Netherspite shakes himself violently to try to be rid of both Shane and Mercade, the Python the greatest threat in his view in spite of the significant power of those gathered, in spite of the burn of unfamiliar sorcery. There's no -blood- from any of the wounds gained, just wisping energy rising from where weaponsfire or blades cut. Really, ignoring the humans present isn't a wise idea.

The nether dragon roars again, this time using his own power instead of holding it in reserve, three different holes opening up in space along the walls, seething with energy. With that done - only a moment, Netherspite turns his attention back to the massive viper to attack with his own fangs and claws. It's only been seconds, and already they've done damage that shows itself; Netherspite will see to it they get no further. One of these little mice he wasn't supposed to devour, the new Lord's intended. She'll have to see to her own safety.

The three portals sit there, spinning for a few harmless seconds before discharging colored beams, one blood red, another sky blue and the third the bright green of new leaves, with Netherspite as their convergiance point. Even those without magical senses will be able to feel the immediate boost of power and regenerative magic this grants the dragon. He'll find that delectable little morsel again when he's finished with this creature, he can /feel/ her magic nearby, calling him.