Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Fate Heresy Omake Files: Final Fight

"Well, seems to me," Isaac said, "that if you *really* want to resolve this thing without bloodshed we'd just have a rock-paper-scissors tournament over it."

Beowulf rolled his eyes.

"No, seriously! If y'all don't know who's going to win this here Grail War, and y'all *know* you don't know, then nobody's got a better than even chance of winnin', right? So why not just rock-paper-scissors for it?"

"Because it's a terrible idea," Eva said.

"Because it's a grail war!" Beowulf said.

"Because that's the way things have always been!" Ishmael said.

"Because we don't have participants equal to a power of two," Lancer said.

"Fine, then. If y'all want to act like re-tards and murder yourselves, then that's no never mind to me." Isaac threw up his hands. "God forbid I bring a bit of, like, *intelligence* to this group o' dumbasses."

The others looked at Isaac, then at each other. And as one, they readied their weapons, began chanting their spells, and started the Brawl For The Holy Grail. It was but a few seconds before Beowulf opened up his reality marble and drew the rest of them, save Isaac, inside of his hellish alternate dimension, and the fight truly began in earnest.


It only took a few minutes.

"Hey," Isaac greeted the lone survivor, stumbling out of the section of reality torn open by the reality marble. "Beowulf! Kudos on winnin' that shit, man."

Beowulf grunted, and reached to the Grail. "It's time to put this Grail War to rest. It's been... an experience, Isaac."

"That it has, that it has."

Beowulf took the grail, and closed his eyes. "I've enjoyed your company. Farewell."

A few seconds passed. Nothing happened.

He shook the grail.

Nothing continued to happen,

Beowulf's eyes widened. "But... what is this? The grail should be functional! The other servants are all dead-- I ripped them apart with my bare hands!"

Isaac gave a sideways grin. "Well... not ALL the other servants, Beowulf."

Beowulf slowly turned, and looked on in stunned horror as Isaac's features warped and twisted, his expression remaining in the same state of wry amusement throughout. In a matter of seconds, he realized that he was looking at the "late" Jabir Ibn Hayaan, Arab alchemist... and Caster of the Grail War.

"But... but you died in the explosion at the cathedral! I *saw* you!"

"No such luck, old friend." Caster raised a hand at Beowulf, the air shimmering around it as he charged a spell-- the final spell of the Grail War. "In fact, it all went..."

Beowulf raised his blade in preparation for a charge, but he knew he was too late, far too late, as a torrent of malevolent nothingness erupted from Caster's palm and engulfed him where he stood.

"...just as according to plan."



Deep within the reality marble, Furies cavorted over the dessicated wastelands, as fire rained down from the distant skies onto tormented soil. The red and black bleakness of the place was broken only by the furious sparring of Beowulf and Lancer, the other Servants all torn apart in the free-for-all.

"It's time to end this," Lancer said, leveling her spear at Beowulf. In response, the giant man-wolf growled, hair bristling on a back that seemed far, far too large for the pocket universe they were fighting in. Sweat glistened on both of them, and they were just about to leap back at each other, when they felt... it.

Lancer gaped as Beowulf suddenly appeared to forget about her existence entirely-- he howled in rage and pain, and Lancer, puzzled, looked up at the deepening blackness of the burning sky, as it seemed to fold in on itself. And as the dimension collapsed noisily, Lancer just barely could hear one last scream of outrage from the beast.



Isaac gave Paul a high-five. "Good job, man. Guess that experience closing Yuggothian interdimensional portals paid off, huh?"

Paul laughed. "Damn straight it did. Guess you won the Grail War, then?"

"Reckon I have." Isaac walked into the antechamber and took the Grail, and closed his eyes.

Isaac tapped Isaac on the shoulder. "D'ya reckon it worked?"

Isaac Isaac'd at Isaac. "I believe it did!"

Isaac and Isaac joined the room, and grinned at the tableau. "Well-done, Isaacs."

Isaac threw his Isaac around Isaac and Isaac, and Isaac'd. "Couldn't have Isaac'd it without Isaac, Isaac!"



Isaac gave Paul a high-five. "Good job, man. Guess that experience closing Yuggothian interdimensional portals paid off, huh?"

Paul laughed. "Damn straight it did. Guess you won the Grail War, then?"

"Reckon I have." Isaac walked into the antechamber and was about to take the grail, when suddenly the form of his landlady appeared, eyes hollow, and she reached towards Isaac as he stumbled back. "Mrs. Deistradoni?!"

"I cannot allow what you are planning, Isaac." The landlady abandoned all pretense to normalcy as she opened her mouth impossibly wide, revealing several rows of sharp teeth, leading into a gaping maw three feet tall and growing. Isaac stared in horror, observing absently that it seemed to be far larger on the inside than the outside.

He turned to run, but it was too late. She caught him with her two impossibly long arms, and dragged him, kicking and screaming, into her jaws. She devoured him whole, in the manner of a snake; and she grinned as she finally got him down, to be digested in whichever pocket dimension she stored her food.

She took one hideous claw, and dipped it into her coat pocket to extract a napkin, which she used to dab her upper lip. She looked at the Grail.

"Well... waste not."

And thus, the horrific damage her properties suffered was undone, and all was well.



Lancer and Ishmael, both glistening with the sweat of glorious victory, stepped up to the Grail, and Lancer was just about to put a hand on it when, without warning, they both were trampled to the ground, as the twice-killed form of Koschei the Deathless rode them over on his dark horse. He grabbed the grail from its stand and, laughing maniacally, went into what could only be described as a Victory Parade Trot.

"Another blue ribbon for Koschei!"

He trotted some more. Ishmael could just barely raise a hand, as consciousness faded from him, and utter: "H... how?"

"You didn't kill my egg! And besides..." Koschei flashed a hideous grin.

"Suffering is MAGIC!"