The Tale of Sir Lancelot - part 1. Dolorous Guard

[chevalier_mal_fet]

Characters: Sir Lancelot, aka the Servant Berserker, and All & Sundry
Setting: All Around the Tower
Format: Prose and Action are Both Welcome
Summary: Having just lately arrived, Sir Lancelot is in search of his Master
Warnings: No Warnings at Present. Unless you are a Monster, then look out.

Your world has been destroyed...

Lancelot, for he knows himself at the moment, is largely unmoved by the strange letters. He destroyed his own world long ago.

At the moment he is more concerned with his immediate surroundings, the mysterious clothing (and the collar) on his body, and the absence of his Master. His last memories before waking are of fire, of wind, and of thwarted rage. But he feels nothing now save a grim wariness. If this is indeed a Reality Marble, it is a mysterious one, and might contain anything. If an event caused by the Grail itself, then he can only meet what will come. If a device of his Master's-- Lancelot finds himself less than pleased with the idea.

Alone in the room where he has woken, he wastes no time in materializing his armor, and, as the situation seems an unusually urgent one, his sword. Both are as black as ever. His helm he leaves, as in carrying his blade he will be known regardless. He does not open the chest.

Reaching out to his Master, Lancelot is gratified to detect a faint pull. He will follow it, wherever it leads.


The Dormitory Hallways
Lancelot makes his way along the hallways nearby, but not limited to, 3-02. Any monsters he encounters, he will fight and slay. Any people he encounters, he will speak with.


The Cafeteria
Unable to pinpoint his Master's location, Lancelot proceeds to the bottom of the Tower. He is intrigued by the Cafeteria, and also by the idea of eating, which he has not done since he was living. He finds the idea of eating food in this place to be problematic, as he wonders if it might not be cursed or enchanted in some way. Being reared by Faeries will leave one with such ideas. Still, he's aware how important it can be to abide by the rules of magic in a possibly magical place. You'll find him stirring his oatmeal contemplatively.


Floor 10: The Aquarium
In the midst of continuing his search, Lancelot is distracted in the Aquarium. Water draws him like nothing else. He finds it calming, even now, in spite of his agitation at following his Master's poor prana signature. This water, obviously enchanted as it is not contained, is full of life. He shouldn't dally long here, but the sight is lovely, and it's difficult to resist stopping a moment.


Floor 25: The Meadow
This would indeed be an odd place for Lancelot to find his Master. Usually, the magus huddles unseen in dark corners, sewers, alleyways, and the like. He's searched in such places, and slain some few Monsters in the process, but has yet to find his Master. Still, there is a refreshing breeze here, and no obvious threat.

Comments

[greyerrant]

Loken removes his helm, blinking for a moment. His face is almost as forbidding as his helm was, craggy and pale, grey eyes virtually unreadable in the face of a giant, though a giant with a certain heroic cast to his features, crowned with blond hair that looks almost silver. His scars are like a chronicle of his battles, from old and faded to new and livid, now accompanied by some recent pink markings that look like burns.

"I can only understand half your tale, I admit. I am Astartes, and as such, we give up all love of the sort that you must have felt, leaving only time for our devotion to our lords and brothers. But to slay your brothers..."

He frowns, looking very stern. "That was the sort of heresy that my brothers committed, the act which set the galaxy on fire. Though they did not do so out of love which... at least is something of an understandable motive. They did so out of ambition." And just for a moment, a short, painful moment, Lancelot can see the kind of vengeful madness that once lay heavy over Cerberus himself, when he first took up the name of the wolfhound at the gates of hell. The last loyal son amongst a galaxy of traitor stars. And then it is gone again, contemplation and stillness in the wake of the once-berserk rage.

He is quiet for a moment. "I do not believe you can redeem your mistakes. I do not say this out of cruelty, but simply because I have seen such deeds done. Such blood as has stained you cannot be washed out, no matter what deeds you do afterwards. I think... if you find your Master, your true master, once more, the only thing you can do is die on her blade. There are times when the only apology is death, if a spirit can die again."

[chevalier_mal_fet]

Ah, so the man within the armor is as formidable as the armor itself.

"The words you speak-- are not new to me. For I have spoken them to myself, more than once. It may be that such a thing would be most meet, or would suit me best, but certain choices no longer belong to me. I am bound to my Master, to Serve him unto defeat or victory, whether I glory that Service or not.

Truth to be told, I do not much know the man. When he summoned me, he placed a spell upon me, taking away my reason, rendering me more reckless and ferocious in Battle than I was even in life. I am the Servant Berserker-- and when I lay eyes on my King, or feel Her presence, my only thought is her death, so great is my rage.

For I do wish that she had not forgiven me. As I do regret killing her Knights, though their actions were without honor and they left me little choice--

I do not know what it is to be as pure as you say, but as you are a just man, tell me, what would you have done, faced with the death of an unarmed innocent at the hands of her supposed protectors, and the blank countenance of an unmoved King? Is that not heresy enough?"

Though his question might sound rhetorical, it is an earnest plea. Despite appearances, Lancelot an emotional man at the best of times, is caught up in the moment. He cannot recall speaking of these things in his lifetime-- or afterwards.

[greyerrant]

Loken's expression softens, a bit. The brothers had acted without honor. While Lancelot's mistake was in betraying his lord, their error was slaying innocents, something that to his dismay he admits he's done himself, at the Embarkation deck.

"A hard question. I might have fought them as well, if I thought their actions were without honor. I was made to protect the innocent and unknowing, to bring them enlightenment. Perhaps I would have made my body a shield for her, and died, buying her the time needed to escape their wrath, and perhaps giving them enough time in my passing to cool their hatred. But I wonder if that moment of kin-slaying was the true failure, or simply a consequence of the early dereliction."

He continues, something like sympathy entering his tone.

"I once knew such a rage, when first I took on the mantle of Cerberus, at the end of my old life. I thought the world against me, and my loyalty was the last, that all others were traitors. For 6 months I rampaged in a dead world, hunting daemons and traitors. But then another knight found me, a Legion of one. His bravery and words appealed to my sense of honor, and cut through my madness like a sword through a foe. He took me from the dead world, and set me upon my present course, hunting neither in darkness, or light, but shadows."

He takes a moment, breathing, and looks over Lancelot. "I am sorry that you are bound by sorcery, that you don't have such a chance. It is a hard thing to bear. Can I release you?"

His hand moves towards his sword, not as a threat, but rather... as an offer of mercy from the Angel of Death. For that is what they are called by the common people of the Imperial. The Emperor's Angels of Death.

[chevalier_mal_fet]

Lancelot sags briefly where he stands. It has been long and long since he spoke with another tactician, and the spoken reminder of his own failing leaves him weak for a moment.

"I have thought-- many times I reproached myself for not presenting my body as a shield. But then I have wondered had I died, would she have not needed to flee, and have no defender-- and then still, in dying, at the last I would have failed my King twice over.

Aye, my true failure was that I could not tell what I had had done, to Her I trusted above all. In my folly, I could not bear for such happiness as I had never felt to end-- and so I brought about its end thought my own misdeeds."

Shaking his head in amazement, Lancelot smiles faintly-- and it isn't a thing of menace, but a kind of wry sorrow.

"Alas, It was only Death that ended my Madness. You are a Wonder, Knight, and truly fortunate to have been so Saved and Restored. Your name must be celebrated among your people.

Your offer is kindly meant, but I must decline. The Contract, I took of my own free will, and I do desire to earn the Grail for my Master-- and to meet Arthur and to have peace if I may, in the way you have said. It is only the spell that is hard to bear-- and I would not forsake my Master, though he is weak and has no head for strategy, though he does not trust me fully. Perhaps he is a fitting test for my Spirit, this Man."

[greyerrant]

Loken pauses and asks, "If your king was a just and kind ruler, would she not have approved of your love anyway? Surely it was something that she herself could not have managed, and a King needs an heir, after all, even if conceived by... different means." He wonders if this is a cruel question, but it is one that has made him wonder since the beginning of this tale. After all, not everyone can just create sons from gene-engineering material like the Emperor did.


"My name is not known at all. For the purposes of the Imperium at large I am dead, a secret of history and it must remain that way forever." He shakes his head. He misses walking in the light, and fighting wars that everyone could see and take part in.


When his offer of the Emperor's Mercy is refused, he nods, "Your service to this man, is it compelled by sorcery? Or is there some more personal reason you are willing and able to serve him?"

[chevalier_mal_fet]

"I myself was raised as a child by a powerful woman-- a Fae queen and sorceress. But men of my era, they did not see women as powerful beings in their own right, as war leaders, or rulers. It was not considered meet for a woman to even be a Knight-- and so Arthur lived as a man. Her marriage to-- it was meant to assure the people and lords of the stability and blessing of Arthur's reign. No one apart from her closest Knights knew of this.
It was an injustice to them both, Arthur and his bride, but they bore it for the sake of the kingdom and the peace.

It would not have been possible for her to publicly approve. Perhaps the situation might have differed privately, had I not failed to confess without being forced by scandal."

His own cowardice and willingness to delude himself rankle, and the idea of a child being made between them in love, all three in agreement, is painful. Lancelot briefly shadows his own face with his hand.

"My name is known, but in what way I am sure you may guess. I cannot help but feel that yours should be better known, for surely you are as perfect a Knight as any I ever knew in life.

When I breathed my last, it was with the wish that I prove myself once more, that I seek a higher ideal. There is a place, known as the Throne of Heroes, where all Champions who have such strong and lasting hopes gather. When my Master performed the Summoning, I chose freely to answer his call. I hoped to prevail at last.

The only sorcery I suffer unwillingly is the Madness he placed upon me-- I have borne it and even hidden within it, but it chains my mind until al I can think of is rage and murder. I desire victory, and I am reckoned second among Servants, but my Master displays a lack of faith. I do not require this spell to triumph. He is a weak and sickly man, perhaps he thinks to hurry me towards our goal. I cannot say.

I hope convince him, in this place, to release me from my Madness."