From the blinding crescendo of magic that Hector had whipped up, he soon got his answer. The chant itself was irrelevant, beyond any effort to summon up a particular class of Servant which he had not included. If you thought that it would work then it could be as half-assed as you wanted. Hector definitely wanted it to work, and in turn that meant that he was definitely going to succeed. 

A wind blew through the hotel room as the magic built to its height. It smelled of the earth and nature, like the deep forest that one might visit. Yet it was also wild, hostile, a realm that bowed for no master. Whether Hector could handle what that meant remained to be seen as the summoning began in its fullest, mana gathered and given shape, form, a body for a Heroic Spirit to dwell within. It was time for the Grail War to begin.

As the light and sound faded away Hector would find a man before him, if the term could even be applied to the figure which stood crouched in front of him, with blond hair, bird wings and claws for feet, yet with human hands and wearing clothes. He eyed Hector as things settled back down to normal, a dagger strapped to his hip and a lute on a string around his neck.

"...I take it you're my Master then," the 'man', said at last, voice a drawl with something unintelligible in it as well as the tint of a Russian accent. Whatever Hector had expected, this was what he had gotten. Time to see how this would all go.