Berserk fanfic: The Battle of Vritannis

IgnusDei

mmh-hmm good.
Xexhano started a speculation thread on miura's next chapter since it's two months away, speculators are having a bit of fun with it, and so am I.

The pacing here is alittle short, and you won't see any action until maybe part 3 or 4, but stay tuned! i'll try not to dissapoint.

oh, and excuse the typos :p
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The Battle of Vritannis
a berserk fanfic by Francois Cannels
All of the original characters presented here, as well as the the whole are the property of Kentarou Miura and Young Animals...i think...gonna have to get my facts straight for the the legal message here. Help? anyone? :s

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the little band arrives in vritannis, and There are signs of hecticness and activity at the port. things are calm in the town square, though, and at the Inn (which was rather crowded), the patrons inform Guts and the crew of the current situation:

Vritannis, as just about everyone knows, serves the staging point of the coallition's counterattack. While it is true that and untold amount of troops once set foot in the port town, half of them had been recalled to their ships for deployment at the western coast. The Coallition commanders had left a measly 2000 men and 10 partially crewed ships to defend the town, believing that no significant kushan attack could be mounted against a port city so far away from the nearest kushan presence ...even by sea.

Of course not a few weeks had passed after the coallition forces had left that the kushanis had taken over the coastline of vritannis through some rather mysterious means, adn that a fleet of 140 ships was fast approaching from the northeast.

------

The Inn was pretty much full of people and of the noises you'd find in a fine establishment like the White Mussel, although the usual crowd wasn't all good cheer: Many spoke of the coming invasion, or asked whether or not the horror stories about the kushan treatment of prisoners were true. Others *tried* to make light conversation, talking about the fishes or the weather.
Others just tried to enjoy their drink in (fleeting) peace.

The band was sitting at a large round table just across to from the bar...save for Ishidoro, who was at the bar,fruitlessly pestering the innkeeper a pint of ale. Amongst his colorful attempts at procuring one is trying to convince the barkeep that he was really in his forties, and that he was so short because he was a HALFLING.
After other tries at a mug, Ishidoro finally gave up and could not help himself to ask as to why the mood was somewhat foul. The Innkeeper then lauched himself into a lengthy explanation detailing the state of the kushan invasion, the foundation of the Coallition of Holy Kingdoms, the use of Vritannis as a staging point, and the recent devellopments which included the redeployment of the Great Fleet and the VAST majority of the Coallition troops, and then the sudden appearance of a kushan fleet less than a few hours away.


"They're just over the bloody horizon," said the innkeeper. "And it won't be long until we're under Kushan rule. The women and children will be more or less alright...but the things they do to men..." he shuddered.

"So why doesn't everyone just leave?" asked Ishidoro. "beats being thrown into a ditch full of lamp oil along with a lit match..."

"We WOULD. We'd be damned HAPPY to, in fact! But whatever it is that took out the coast's guard posts and watchtowers is still out there lurking in that unseasonably thick fog. Kushan witchcraft at work, i'll wager."

"Well bollocks!" exclaimed a man nearby, setting his pint down on the bar."I'll take Moira and the kids and we're gonna chance it! I don't care if we meet a thousand Kushan Regulars or the Devil himself!"

"And i would not recommend it." said Serpico, grimly.

"And who in blazes are they?" asked the man to the Innkeeper. "they don't look like they're from around here."

"They're not. They came in town just before the fog came along...looked like they had been to hell and back, too..."

"Did they?" He jokingly asked.

"Why don't you ask them?"

"Alright, i will! Oy there! you, in the green garb!"

"It's a cloak." Serpico answered "and, Yes?"

"Right." he said as he approached the table where the rather odd-looking group sat. Ishidoro abandonned his attempts at getting a pint of ale and rejoined his companions in the impending conversation. "Might if i sit here? the table's big enough..."

Serpico looked around to see if the blacksmith's presence would bother anyone. He looked to his mistress: She was so absorbed with her book that he doubted anyone could register to her sense at the moment...besides little miss Silke, who was constantly explaining something to farneze. Caska, surprisingly, was awfully calm and silent.
No doubt she misses the child, he thought.
The Elves were tucked away in Guts's sack, as to avoid causing a stir (or even a lynching, considering the situation)
Guts was the only one who met serpico's gaze, and he wordlessly told him with a wave of the hand "i don't care".

Serpico then looked at...himself. He had not been in a good mood since the attack at the seaside hut, especially since Guts would have nearly killed them all had Silke not been able to "rescue" him. He figured he could use a little light conversation. Though he wished it was with someone more cultured, everyone had been wary of the group since they had set foot in town, and serpico deduced that, besides Ishidoro, this was the only one he could freely talk to.

"Be my guest, Mr?..."

"Randver. other name's Smith...after the profession. And you are?"

"Serpico V... Valiente." He glanced at Farneze, who was still absorbed in her studies. He had never made a slip like that one, and he wondered of this trek was already taking its toll on his mind. Serpico Vendemion, when did he ever feel like he was ever part of that family, despite that it's head is his very own father?

"a pleasure then." The smithy sat down right next to the green clad swordsman. "Now you said something about how i shouldn't make a run for it? that i should just stay here and wait for that jolly thousand of kooshes to march in here plowing through the defenses and start raping me wife while i roast?"

"Well, um, I..." Serpico was obviously quite uncomfortable: the conversation had not turned out the way he had hoped.

Randver's countenance softened a bit, but remained strong and stern:

"Oh no no no i don't mean to start nothin' with ye, good sir! I do, however, wish to know WHY would you think it not a good idea for *any* of us to make a bid for salvation?"

Serpico's expression remained somewhat nervous...Of course, this was a practiced apologetic appearance of meekness he had picked up living in high society: After so many duels, Serpico quickly realized that people, not just nobles, were often quick to anger. defying them only infuriated them further. "Submitting" often got him out of trouble...except of course when farneze honor was injured.

Inside, Serpico was quite unimpressed by the harsh-looking blacksmith. Nice try, he thought, but i've just seen worse. Nevertheless, he saw no reason to deny the man some answers.

"Well, s-sir...i am afraid that our good innkeeper's hunch was, hum...correct. As you know, we WERE out there, and we did come across..."

He paused. Still no reaction to be had from the rest of the group, save maybe for Ishidoro, who was listening in. He then thought best not tobe too descriptive justyet.

"...Kushan witchcraft at work."

"Witchcraft, eh?" Randver took a sip from his pint, and set it down. "What kind of witchcraft? elves? gnomes? the bloody MIST? i don't put much stock in those things: i'm a church going man, see?" He produced a small bird-and-whirlwind necklace from his shirt, and held it up if front of him. Guts silently chuckled at this, but randver continued: "Elves, don't exist, and witches are jsut a bunch of dafty old crones looking for attention! So be straight with me, SIR, and answer me this without trying to sound bloody interesting with tall tales taken from bedtime stories : when you were out there, have you seen any Kushan soldiers marching about?"

"Well, no, but..."

"Then i that's all i need to hear." He got up, preparing to leave.

Serpico looked worried. And he WAS most honestly worried: here was a good man trying to save his family from the horrors of kushan occupation, and in doing so would put his kin through the terrors of being slaughtered by kushani Werecrocodiles. He had to be convinced that he was making a mistake. He had to be stopped.

"Sir, please, there may be-"

"To hell with your recommendations, you heathen, fabling girlie-man! By midday Me, Moira and the boys will have packed up and headed out for safety." Randver then raised his voice for all to hear. "And the rest fo you sods can patiently wait here hoping that the Coalliiton leftovers and the Volunteers will save your worthless hides!"

The smithy was just about ready to leave when he suddenly heard someone yell " MIRACLE BALL!" and something large, heavy and...leathery hit him squarely on the face. Randver fell on his backside, Once he had recovered from his daze, he took a good long look at what hit him: it was a cone-shaped piece of meat, wrapped in a dark green leather...it took him a bit to fully realize that it was piece of an animal...some big lizard, he could guess as much.

"Kooshie regulars?" said Ishidoro. "Nope. but Croc-men and giant sea-elephants? Old man, you'll find those aplenty out there!"

Ishidoro jumped on the bar, took a deep breath and...

"Listen up, you! You got nothing but witch-beasts hiding in the fog out there, so yeah, staying here IS a good idea!"

Serpico took another look around the table: Silke and Farneze were now paying full attention to their surroundings. The little witch stared at the brazen young boy as if ready to kill him, while her apprentice looked VERY worried that things would escalate into a brawl. Caska was no longer morose...Quite natural, since she always cheered up whenever Ishidoro... acts like himself. Guts just took another sip of his drink. The elves were still hidden in the sack, but were peeking through to see what was going on: hey were jsut waiting for them to make an entrance in this whole piece of theater.

Another deep breath:

"on the other hand, you got more than 6000 kushan troops on their way by sea, with only 2000 men and 10 moldy ships to defend against them...So you're all pretty much fucked!"

Ishidoro now had everyone's attention, and had a quite a few angry shouts and venomous stares aimed at him. But he carried on, with his fist held up high:

"But never fear, for the INVINCIBLE BAND OF..." he thought about it a moment. "...THE BLACK BEAST IS HERE! AND NO ONE CAN STAND IN OUR WAY!"

And then came the laughter. not so surprising: there the crowd had a short lad of some 13 years of age claiming that his band of six (not counting the elves) could take on a whole army of the most frighteningly efficient killers this continent had ever known, AND an army of ungodly creatures to boot. Serpico was relieved: once the laughter subsided, this mess would be over, and they could proceed to rest in their chambers.

The innkeeper, still laughing a bit, decided he wanted Ishidoro's feet off his bar, and tried to get him down.

"Now lad, come on down! I gotta thank you for the mirth, but you're dirtying me bar! Come down! i'll even give you a mug of ale, so..." he reached to grab the odd boy, but he suddenly saw a glow of orange and red sweep past his face. he then smelled smoke, and felt a slight burning sensation just about his upper lip: his mustache was on fire:

"Oh bloddy hell!" he screamed, tapping at his face to put the little flames out.

Ishidoro probably never looked so serious before, and Serpico, for a moment, was quite impressed: the boy had attained
a slightly better level of control over his enchanted weapon, and had just silenced the crowd around him. one thing you can say about Ishidoro, serpico thought, is that he never likes to be taken lightly.

Ishidoro spoke again:

"THIS IS LUCIOLE! MY FLAMING SWORD! AND WITH IT, I'M GONNA MAKE THE KUSHAN PAY FOR THEIR FLAMING PITS! I'M GONNA MAKE THEM PAY FOR MY...i'M GONNA MAKE THEM PAY!!!!"

Silence. moments lter, more silence, until someone cheered.
And then, they all cheered.


END OF PART 1
 
I felt sorry for you if your fanfic are not going to be recognised...





Then again what the point 2 mths later this fanfic would have gone down the drain..


Just summarise it will do 8)
 

IgnusDei

mmh-hmm good.
Well, consider this an alternate timeline story..something to make the TWO BLEEDIN' MONTHS seem just a little shorter.

once i finish this particular story, i'll have to see about coming up with brand new characters or side stories for some past ones.

Say, i see people at least glancing at the fanfic, but i don't see anyone comenting on it. Is it that bad? or is it just too long?
 

IgnusDei

mmh-hmm good.
PART IIa

At the White Mussel, the band had become the center of attention. Everyone was asking them questions, and everyone wanted to hear their tales...things Ishidoro was more than happy to tell.

Randver, not quite convinced, tried to disprove them by pointing out that that piece of meat could have come up from a regular animal (and he was correct, in a way). The local butcher, who was also present, pointed out that the flesh could not have come from far away, since it was still so fresh and unsalted. Logically, as Serpico pointed out, the remains could not have come from more than a days travel from Vritannis, whereas such beasts were native of far away lands to the east or the south. His only argument sunk, Randver stormed out of the Inn, but few paid noticed his absence.

More questions. Guts, to the surprise of everyone in the group, was particularily talkative. Although, that is not to say he was too happy about being the center of attention: he kept his answers short, and whenever a question threaded into forbidden territory he just gave an evil look that wordlessly said "don't ever ask me that. ever"...Many had recognized him as the black swordsman, whose infamy had reached the farthest reaches of the continent. When everyone knew this, people stopped botheiing and left him to his drink. Silke and farrneze desperately tried to keep to themselves, hoping that ishidoro would not let it slip
that they were both practicing witchcraft. Of course, he did. After only an hour, everyone in the Inn knew who was who: Guts was the wandering demonslayer, Farneze and Serpico were ex-soldiers (thankfully, Ishidoro had left out the pagan hunter detail), Caska was simply *touched* and as far as everyone was concerned, curing her was the objective of this little fellowship. Silke, much to her relief, founf out that besides Randver and a few others, no one in vritannis was a die-hard follower of the Church. Many took the fact that she was a witch very well, with suprise and fascination. This was due to the fact that she looked nothing like the Monks and priests made her kind out to be: devilish hell-spawned banshees and hags spouting obscenities and sacrilege. That particular expectations betrayed, they could not help but to be curious about her craft.

The mood had changed. Ishidoro's outburst of bravado and talkativeness gave something to the patrons of the White Mussel something they had not seen or heard or felt in weeks: hope. This was quite a feat, since doom was only several hours away, in the form of 6000 kushan soldiers.However, the very idea that a handful of people (extraordinary people, but people nonetheless) could face unimaginable hardship and live to tell showed them that there was a chance. A throw of the coin could be made, and on one of its side was the shining face of victory. The "band of the black beast", as it were, was then quite unwillingly a wellspring of hope.

And then, everyone started to leave.

"Hey!" exclaimed Ishidoro " Where's everyone going?"

"Didn't you hear them talking?" answered the Innkeeper.

"No...i was to busy demonstrating my Flame Scorpion mark 1! Where did they say they are going?"

"They're headed for the Volunteer's headquarters. No doubt to lend a helping hand to the militia they're putting together..They ought to even things out, numbers-wise, but since most of them never swung a butter knife at something more threatening than margarine. i doubt they'll make much of a difference against the Kushees." He paused. thinking a bit. "So what are you gonna do?"

"Us? well..."

"The way i see it, unlike us, you got a choice: You can either stay here and defend the town against six thousand Kushees and quite possibly die, OR you can brave the mist, face those crocs you told us about and possibly live to see another tenday."

"Do you even need to ask? We're off to sign up! c'mon, guys! Time to prove our worth!"

Ishidoro had not taken three steps towards the door that a huge, bandaged hand had wrapped itself around the top of his head, effortlessly holding in place. The hand twisted, and Ishidoro found himself facing Guts, who didn't look too happy.

"...or...not?" Ishidoro said sheepishly.

"Just hold your horses there, Ishi. We've got to think about this."

Just then, the innkeeper decided to tend to his cellars: rats had a tendency to nest there, and recent complaints about an odd aftertaste in his ale confirmed that vermin once again made it their homes.

"What's there to think about? Them folks need us, the unbeatable six!"

"That's eight!" With the crowd gone Puck could finally be included in the talks. "you guys nearly keeled over hundreds times if it weren't for us!"

"Look, just sit down, okay?" He let go, and then opened his sack. "And you guys, come out too."

The elves had been cramped in the sack since the band had crossed the city gates. With only a small opening to see the outside world and nothing but each other's company, they were glad to spread their wings.
Farneze closed her manual and set it on her lap, eager and ready to impart whatever little wisdom she could...all the while keeping an eye on caska, of course. Serpico was the first to speak:

"Well, just like our fine host said, we have to decide betwix't fight or flight. The latter, as he pointed out...holds our best chance of survival: the were-beasts are cnsiderably more dangerous than a kushan soldier...but they would come few at a time, and can be dealt with. A whole army of kushan soldiers, with support from such beasts, would mean our deaths...even if we were work alongside the town's defenders."

"My thoughts exactly." agreed Guts. "Besides, this isn't the only port town on the coast."

Silke spoke her mind: "While...while i also think our own survival should come first...i can't in good conscience leave the people of vritannis to their doom." A beat. Then she turns to Ishidoro. "As much as i hate to asmit it, i am with Ishidoro on this issue: Those people need us."

"Aren't we forgeting something?" Farneze, small and humble as ever since Albion, finally had something to say: "In either case, Mister Guts will undoubtedly have to fight...won't the armour chisel at his health even further?"


"oh. THAT." everyone thought. *That* was going to be problem, and it (besides guts) concerned Silke most of all. The odic wounds were not healing well at all, and there is always guts' affinity towards becoming a berserker. It proved hard for the little witch girl to pull Guts' from his fury. The second time was *easier*, since she didn't have to cut through the maze of memories and emotions that made up his ego, but it proved much more taxing on *her*, in body, mind and soul Frankly, it was a wonder...nay, a miracle that she could get through.
Everyone, save for caska's occasional "vui?..." was grimly silent. They were all scared. Guts was scared that his already poor self-control would fail even more quickly, and everyone else was afraid of him...just HIM.

A minute passed. Angry curses could be heard from the cellar.

Then, Guts finally broke the silence...with a lie.

"It won't happen again."
 

IgnusDei

mmh-hmm good.
between FFX, Baldur's gate 2 and aa certain game i am not at liberty to talk about, i haven't taken that much time to write :p

Part IIb

Randver was home. And angry. He had hoped to convince some friends and strangers alike to come along with him and escape Vritannis before it fell. But first, he needed to put down any superstitious rumor mongers that might scare anybody else. He thought he had succeeded with that odd bunch of outsiders, particularily with the green-clad girlie-man. Unfortunately, the lad accompanying him had singlehandedly managed to confirm everyone's supersitious suspicions that something ungodly was lurking outside the city walls...including his own, he had to admit. Worst still, he had given everyone HOPE."Hope?" he thought "what is hope against the unholy Kushan army? Nothing. A whole lot of NOTHING." Moira was sitting by the unlit hearth. She turned to see her husband home quite a bit sooner, and realized things had not gone too well.

"Oh, you're back early?"

"Yeah," he answered, feeling defeateed. "Turns out i'm not as good an orator as some little punk with a magical trinket and tall tales..."

"So...We're not leaving, are we?"

"No."

A pause. Randver took the opportunity to sit down and sink back on his chair. He started to massage his eyes, though they were not weary: it was a habit, really. Things not going well? Rub eyes.

"How are the boys?"

"Remi is asleep upstairs...he had trouble sleeping last night and he's been weary all morn...poor thing."

"Poor us," He sighed. "you know, i've been thinking whether or not if he should STAY asleep...spare him the pain..."

Moira's face froze into shock, and then melted into horror as Randver got up.

"But no...i couldn't bring a dagger to my sons' throats no matter what kind of horror death could spare them...."

He then walked towardsthe door leading to the street, much to Moira's relief.

"But what horrors...what horrors indeed...I'll be in the forge working on that set of throwing knives that sailor ordered last week. I doubt he'll have much use for them now but...darnit i could use some time in the forge."

He had barely put his hand on the doorknob that he was struck with the feeling that he forgot something...no, that something had been intentionnaly and entirely overlooked.

"Wait.. just.Remi? you forgot to tell me..."

Moira started to look worried, a detail not lost to her now very attentive husband.

"Moira. Where's Timothy?"

He began to approach her, almost menacingly.

"Well, dear, um... i sent him to the baker to get a loaf and..."

closer. menacing.

"Baker's been closed all morn, woman."

"Well, I...I"

He grabbed her by the shoulders and squeezed hard.

"WHERE IS HE?!"

"h-hHe left as soon as you did...s-said something about doing what he h-had t-to do oh LET ME GO YOU'RE HURTING ME!"

The pain subsided, and Moira was alone. The door was open, letting the midday breeze in. Moira got up, slowly walked up to it, and closed it.
 

IgnusDei

mmh-hmm good.
The Band had decided: they would help with the defense of Vritannis. the men (and the boy) would lend their blades to the armed forces, whereas the girls would stay behind at the inn and...wait. Silke, not liking to be idle in all of this, decided that she would scout ahead by possessing a seagull and pass on her findings later on. Upon their arrival at the docks district, Serpico and Guts had already decided to pay a visit to the recruitment booth of the Coallition army. Ishidoro, ever the proverbial thorn on the side, immediately protested at this, preferring to join the Volunteers instead. To his suprise, he had not gotten much of an argument out of them, mostly because they intended to leave him at the Volunteers' headquarters in the first place.

"Whoa-whoa-whoa whoaaaaa there, you guys are gonna leave me alone to fight alongside a bunch of strangers? what if the Kushan attacked right this instant? They'll gut me a like a fish!"

Puck sat atop Ishidoro's head, grinning.

"Oh my, whatever happened to the mighty Ishidoro and his great flaming SWORD? have you seen him around, Dropi? Hmmmmm?"

"The Coallition Army aren't the kind of folk who'd hire kids, Ishi. Not even as a squire...not that desperate yet."

"I'm afraid Mister Guts is correct," Serpico agreed. "ALTHOUGH, it hardly matters whether they hire you or not: We will try and convince the Coallition command to work with the Volunteers, and we shall fight side by side in the end. I do, however, find the fact that these two forces seem so divided...perplexing."

"Purple-wha?" Ishidoro pointed at the crowds. "I think it's fairly obvious why they don't seem to like one another: If it weren't for the coallition sitting pretty on this side the sea, the Kushan wouldn't even have bothered to come here! The townfolk give them shit for it, and the coallies tell THEM to piss off right back. That make enough sense?"

" Why, yes...and Coallies? you are quick to come up with short forms, mister Ishidoro...Well, that aside, it seems we shall have our work cut out for us, eh mister Guts?"

Guts was hardly as enthusiastic as either of his companions:

"I'm not so sure that's a gap we can bridge, Serpico. Neither of us are of noble standing, so I doubt they'd give us an audience."

"Actually I, huh..." Damn. Another slip. Well, almost. Serpico's urge to tell the circumstances of his nativity was unbecoming, and quite annoying to the poor young would-be nobleman.

"Yeah?"

"I was bestowed a noble rank for... some services. Nothing like a lord, mind you...but i should be able to arrange a meeting. Well, shall we go?"



And so Ishidoro had been left to sit alone on a barrel at an arms depot...well, not alone, really: Puck was safely tucked under his shirt, looking over the collar at the hustle and bustle as spears and chain coats were being distributed to the Volunteers. Ishidoro had no trouble getting in the ranks: though small, he was still big enough to handle a bowgun, and the Volunteers couldn't ask for more. As the saying goes, beggars could not be choosers.

They had both observed that many among the group were about as old as Ishidoro, though somewhat taller and stronger. Others were "waaaaay too old for this", as Ishidoro politely put it.

"They're all so scared," said Puck. "They're all trying to hide it, but you can tell they're terrified at what is to come."

"Yeah." Ishidoro didn't seem to care anymore.

"Are you scared, too?"

"Yeah."

"...so the king of the potato people asked my to be his mommy, providing him with freshly bled coffee every morn!..."

"Now you're just being stupid."

"Well at least you're paying attention...what's eating you? You were ready to take on the world and the next after this one just this morning."

"Oh!...i still am, really! the problem is..."

Just then, some 10 feet away from the two, a young man wearing a badly worn chainshirt was carrying a box of bolts...which would have been no problem to carry at all, save for the fact that he was a frighteningly thin, ghostly pale-skinned imitation of a man. Not so unexpectedly, he tripped over a loose floor brick and fell flat on his face, but not without throwing up his arms and sending the contents of the crate flying through the air. Somewhere else, and old man was examining a loaded bowgun like it was the most wonderful thing in the world. He soon found out that this particular bowgun was very sensitive, and aimed at another's backside.

"...these guys are NOT."

"True enough, but they're doing their best," said a voice on his behind him. Upon hearing it, Ishidoro quickly tucked puck's head under the shirt, then turned. The boy before him was almost as tall as a grown man, but the delicate features on his face revealed that he was no older than Ishidoro himself. He was dressed in a padded, tanned and studded leather suit that was a bit too small for his chest and a skull cap a bit too large for his head. whether was either gazing at a dream or at the crowd, Ishidoro could barely tell. "But i hear someone from the Coallition got the boot, and he'd decided to give us some pointers...he'll make a nice fighting force out of us, i'm sure." He then faced Ishidoro, smiled and extended his hand. "Oh! sorry, My name's Timothy! What's yours?"
 
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