Finis Chaldea

[Bloodedge]

As it stood, Camelot would soon be minus a few knights for up to a decade, but Albion would be better for it. It wasn't as if the full roster of knights needed to occupy the Round Table; they proved more than capable enough with just a small few in most scenarios. Some had already gone ahead, others would be joining, and eventually... Artoria Pendragon would ascend her queenship to a new level. Already, opportunities were being taken by many people surrounding the Round Table. Merlin was setting up a bounded field around the whole of Albion─ something that would take a short while, but soon retain all ambient traces of mana over the course of ten years. The world immediately surrounding Albion would hardly notice a difference in truth, but with no mana escaping from these powerful knights, the density would rise very slowly. Bedivere was in the process of lifting himself from the floor, dismayed by his own lack of ability and wondering how he acquired knighthood over even someone like Freed... who himself was only just rising to his hands and knees.

Of the males, there was but one who requested a task. Such would always be the case with Sir Gawain. The muscular male stepped forward and bowed, thinking there was something best suited to him. "If I may make a request, My Queen. Allow me to travel outward to Loch Ness. I would like to ready it as something more than a simple outpost. There is always a chance some may not want to ascend, or even that some may still be incapable of handling the atmosphere. Having a suitable village at least, would perhaps do them well."

Little did these knights know, the end of a meeting would herald the beginning of another. Specifically, a group of men from above were waiting for the moment Artoria Pendragon showed herself alone. Perhaps she would be alone rather soon, or perhaps they'd have to wait until she took rest for the night. It seemed some of these men had different preferences for when they would approach, but either way, a dozen or so of Ishtar's loyalists would be finding the Queen of Knights in her privacy as soon as possible. . .

[Apollymi]

Camelot was moving towards busy, and Artoria could tell already that many were ready and capable of moving about all on their own. The first of such a request was made by Gawain, who wished to see Loch Ness reach the height of a true little village instead of an outpost. "Lift your head," she said before making a decision which was much easier to do than many others. "You are free to see to that task. I would not want to displace those of Albion who would rather live at ground level either. I can trust you with such a task, so it is yours to undertake. If you require anything to make that easier for you, feel free to send word, you will have it." she added. She did not plan to leave Gawain behind in her ascent, but if he wished to help out in a way the rest of them hadn't thought of yet, she was more than willing to leave him to that task for the time being.

As for the other Knights it would be Agravain who stepped up and bowed as well. "Surely you jest?" Artoria asked first and foremost about the posturing. "Of course I do no such thing. I wish to accompany the Queen of Saints at least for a time. At the very least I believe I can be helpful to her, as you cannot be at her side yourself. You will feel less anxious with someone like me at her side, correct?" asked Agravain. Ah, what a dangerous question. Artoria could not lie, of the current Knights the one most like her original self was Agravain. Though she didn't share that ability to torture and extract information their ability to act by any means necessary was admirable. Such a trait would be especially useful to Jeanne who saw only the good in others and wouldn't bother questioning the bad. Agravain could and would be of use to her, in rooting out any ne'er do wells. "Be warned Argavain the Queen of Saints can see through and control even you. But knowing one such as you would stand at her side would put me at ease," she said giving her permission for that person to scurry off as well.

With all of that taken care of, if Artoria was to be found properly alone, it would be some time later. She'd have sat through any paperwork that needed tending. Talked to any stray knights that found themselves wanting to participate one way or another and then when everything calmed the Queen of Knights would be found in her own bedroom. She'd be alone and finally able to take a deep breath, sitting atop her own bed, with crossed legs having finished her work of cleaning and tending her blade. She did so to clear her thoughts and reach a state of tranquility she didn't know outside of combat. Here and now each breath would be in step with the movements of a whetstone until satisfied finally. She'd lay her sword to rest. Hair unleashed from its normal bun and brushed out a simple night gown was how she chose to sleep, when she chose to do so. She was safe within Camelot and she hadn't slept much on her trip and so she would relax almost completely with the exception of a dagger beneath her pillow. The habits of an assassin, did not disappear, and strangely she couldn't sleep if the weight of it wasn't beneath that space either.

[Bloodedge]

Each of the knights were on their way. Some trained, some journeyed, and some prepared for things to come in other ways. Poor Camelot was being left less and less defended, though any number of knights seemed problematic enough that Artoria's nighttime "visitors" remained vigilant against being seen. Fourteen total men were enshrouded by a Divine Artifact, concealing their very existences as they kept eyes on the Queen of Camelot. Ah, some of them could almost taste it already. They were all strung along by their goddess, scarcely tasting of even the flesh of human women in hopes of the goddess' good graces falling their way. Now, they were instructed to lay waste to a young queen who physically seemed so very... breakable. They were to ruin that queen, and oh, they intended to. Some were instructed to look ahead by others, as the queen's loosed hair and nightgown were so perfectly sculpted in their favor. Well... their approach was to be made within the hour of her taking rest. The peace of Artoria's sleep was slated to be interrupted, and by what? A joint effort of four strapping young men, each taking an extremity in their hands while the first of their associates loomed over Artoria and her bed. Ah... that one was already preparing to bare himself. Nine others were still lined-up behind, though one was impatient enough to move forward. She was sure to scream, right? Yes, naturally, he thought. With that in mind, he may as well be the one to plug her mouth early on. Yes, the plan was all in place. All they had to do was execute, and the fall of Queen Artoria would begin.

[Apollymi]

Artoria had relaxed herself into sleep, but she had every reason to do so. The Knights of Camelot were not the types who would let anything happen around them and she was no defenseless woman. Ah, but these people didn't know that. She was being held down by four young men and beyond that another was preparing himself to do something unthinkable to one who had no interest. Ah, but when she woke her body pinned down and she opened those emerald eyes to the sight of manhood before her person... no screams escaped her. No, instead mana burst from her very person. That newest test of her abilities would aim to do a couple of things, the first of which would be to disable any weak enough to not withstand pressure higher than than that of the world above. The other reason to do this, would be to alert the nearby Knights to her present state of danger. In the meantime she'd aim to wrestle at least one arm from the grasp of one of these mean, to reach for that dagger beneath her pillow. And if she drew it, well, the one whose manhood was in front of her, would lose it in an instant. There was no remorse and no fear in the Queen of Camelot. But who were these men and how did they get here?

[Bloodedge]

A bittersweet result was encroaching upon Artoria, in a manner of speaking. On the negative side of things, her use of mana would not be impacting any of those fourteen men. They had all come from the realm above, as all who were able to meet the gods directly were. On the other hand though, her knights knew two things; Artoria was taking rest by now, and she would not flex her power so casually. Just the same, though these men were of Chaldean birth, they were not warriors. Artoria's wrestling managed to free one of her hands. Just as one male was fully prepared to ram his meat rod into the struggling woman's face... he watched it fly off. A bloodcurdling scream escaped the one assailant, urging the others into more aggressive action. Multiple attempts were made at the knife-wielding hand of Artoria, while one man continued focusing on placing himself between her legs. Ah, but that scream was a source of higher alert in any remaining knights nearby. Only seconds later, the door of Artoria's chambers burst open. Long, crimson locks billowed over closed eyes, and a bow that seemed just as much a harp had two of its strings plucked. Two arrows that were neither physical nor truly "loosed" from the bow found their way to the napes of two men. "How sad. For someone to sneak into the castle of Camelot, and think they have the right to assault our queen even after bypassing the Round Table. Fate is a terrible mistress who brings only lamentation." With that, the men who held onto Artoria's ankles fell next to her bed. They were far too busy clutching the open wounds in their necks to do anything else, lest they bleed out in a matter of moments. "Shall I bear your burden, My Queen?"

[Apollymi]

A blood-curdling scream and Artoria instantly felt more comfortable. That knife was trying to be ripped from her fingers, but she had no intention of letting it go. Every grab for it would be met with slices which would rid men of their fingers while she wrestled herself closer to the upright position. It would have been much easier to do if her legs were free. Ah, but Tristan was now here and two arrows loosed to free the Queen of Knights legs. That sad sleepless knight had just saved Artoria from a problem she wouldn't wish upon her enemies. One immediately aimed to kick at the man between them as she worked herself into the upright position. Tristan asked of her a single question which made her answer quickly enough as that blade flipped around in her fingers aiming to free her other hand. "Yes, all but one of these men die today. No one escapes." Artoria said as she aimed immediately to drive that blade into the heart of the man still holding her hand. If she succeeded she'd be completely free and would easily find herself moving about. Adrenaline coursed through her veins but her mind had basically gone silent. There were men in her room, trying to rape her, and none had seen them enter. They were strong enough to withstand the burst of her mana, and as such were from above, which limited the amount of people who could be out to get her. Artoria was calm but it wasn't true calm it was the dangerous calm of a cornered animal, even slightly less cornered now, she had fangs to bare and lives to take.

[Bloodedge]

It seemed Sir Tristan had done just enough to free the rage Artoria had for these assailants. Good. It would have been depressing to see anything happen to the woman, but he figured she wanted the man betwixt her legs to die by her own hand, and thus left her to it. Considering how quickly her knife found its way to that man's heart, Tristan could assume he was right. By her order, one of her attackers was to live. No escapees would be allowed; Tristan would ensure that. "As you wish, My Queen," he stated. Just under a dozen men remained, some grasping with what few digits their hands had left, and some encroaching upon Sir Tristan to immobilize a potential threat. None seemed to care much about their wellbeing in this moment. Why should they? If they survived and successfully ruined the Queen of Camelot, surely their magnanimous goddess Ishtar would smile down upon them with favor and healing. Victors would be praised, bedded, taken to the height of bliss! Or... they would never be victors at all. Sir Tristan's strings were plucked once, twice, thrice more and so on. Never did an arrow appear, yet all but the male closest to Artoria took fatal wounds within a frame of three seconds. "It saddens me so to see lives thrown away with such abandon. Sleep now to this elegy," he offered as assailants fell one after another. There was a bloodbath in the queen's chambers, and hubris was the culprit. Whatever this organized group of men thought they were doing by making it this far... well, they would know eventually.

[Apollymi]

Tristan would do what Artoria couldn't freely do while her room was so small. He would take out multiple assailants with the use of his harp. Something about those string plucks soothed her greatly. She couldn't help but feel strange nonetheless. And after the deaths of many there was only one left, and it would happen to be the one who'd lost his manhood. Her bedroom was covered in blood, so was she at this point. Though it was hardly a look she wasn't used to. Those eyes of hers glowed with emerald fire as tried her best to calm down. What she needed now wasn't vengeance for the slight they were willing to perpetrate against her, what she needed now, was answers. Strangely, no one ever thought about what would happen if one of these plots was discovered, no one considered the idea that a girl so tiny could fight back in anyway. Of course, Artoria often suffered from this kind of prejudice against her skill, even so never had any of her enemies tried this. It was disgusting. She was disgusted, and furious but it was all burning right below the surface of her face, like at any moment someone else would jump out of her visage and do something incredibly violent. 'Hold it, together. Don't be rash...' she thought to herself. Even with her training as King, even with her training as an assassin, she was still a woman who deep inside would now have an unnecessary fear for her virtues. How many deaths would happen now, because Artoria would no longer be able to sleep? How many would die by her hand because now they couldn't be trusted? A deep exhale left her as she looked at the carnage of her room. "Tristan, have this one healed enough that he will not bleed out. Do not have it reattached, I do not think anyone who acts the way he did deserves such things. Bind him and wait for me in the hall of the round table. I need to dress and arm myself. Alert the others do a sweep make sure no one else remains," these were a set of orders that Artoria gave but they were almost empty in feeling.

[Bloodedge]

Thirteen deaths occurred this night, until only one man, who wasn't much of a man at all anymore, remained. The queen was understandably shaken in some way, even though it wasn't the sort of reaction one would expect. She was always like that. Queen Artoria did not possess the weaknesses of any normal human, and that was part of her charm. She gave a single series of orders to the red-haired knight, and with his eyes still closed, he bowed. "As you wish. I will meet you in the hall," he said, taking the cockless "man" by the collar and dragging him out. He'd do just as instructed, having that cretin patched up while the remaining knights performed several rounds for assurance. There were no reports given about suspicious activity. No knights had anything to find, as all culprits were in that very room. Well... there was one thing found. There was a single cap not far from the queen's bedroom. Said cap reeked of something that didn't belong in this world at all, and upon locating it, Sir Bedivere was the one to discover its purpose by trying it for himself. Suddenly, he was obscured from sight before Sir Tristan himself. Neither knight had ever seen such a thing before. There was hardly a doubt that it had come from somewhere... not normally reachable by the likes of them.

[Apollymi]

Thirteen deaths occurred and the final living member of that little expedition was now a eunuch. Artoria stood before a bathroom mirror washing her hands and face, cleaning the blood from her finger tips and then rinsing it out of her golden locks. Obviously, she could not stand before her knights looking so disheveled. She was Queen first, and as such she would appear no less in front of anyone. Still these movements from her were mechanical as the events of her invaded bedroom played in her mind. What if Tristan hadn't been there? She relied on her knights and their opinions but this was likely the first time in her life, she imagined an outcome so very different if one hadn't shown. The blood was now gone her skin was now cool and not a single tear had been shed, but there was still burning fury behind her eyes. She hadn't even gotten any sleep, she probably wouldn't anytime soon. Hair was next, brushed and braided put up into her bun. Next was dress, which was rather easy to don considering her own choice in undergarments. The frown on Artoria's face deepened as she looked at the version of herself she always presented to the Knights. She could hold this façade for a while longer. She didn't have much choice after all. She picked up her sword, feeling infinitely more comfortable with it in hand than she'd felt in the moment's prior. Calm deep breaths, even through the smell of blood and sweat. She would walk down the halls of Camelot as she always did as if there was nothing amiss, though within her own head there was only fury, more fury than she'd ever know what to do with. She reached the great hall sword still in hand and would stand before the criminal in armor with the tip of Excalibur planted into the floor before her. She definitely hadn't slept enough for this. She'd address the Knights first. "I assume we have no more unwanted..." she gave a pause, what kind of word did one use to describe a band of rapists? Vermin? Pests? Beasts? Scum? That last one sounded right, but it was probably against her own honor to refer to people as inhuman. She'd pull on the cover of her chivalry when all else failed her. "Villains running around, was anything else found?" she asked just as calmly as she always did. She was getting rather good at using this face and voice without having it betray her.