[center][color=00ff7f][h2]Atalanta[/h2][/color][/center]
[color=00ff7f]"..."[/color] Atalanta stared wordlessly at Keisuke's hand for a few moments before suddenly realizing that this was this era's customary form of compliment, at which point she returned the gesture by firmly shaking his hand as well. [color=00ff7f]"Keisuke, huh? If we are not to be enemies then introducing myself here won't be an issue, right?"[/color] Atalanta didn't waited for a confirmation before continuing, her instincts told her that it wouldn't be an issue this time. [color=00ff7f]"I, Atalanta, summoned as Servant Archer, swear to be your eyes and ears in this task by the name of my goddess, Artemis, my bow and and arrows will be yours, to strike down any opposi- Huh!?"[/color]

Atalanta had almost completed her pledge to Keisuke, after deeming that he would be a worthy Master when both her ears and tail became ramrod straight, just like a scared cat. She let go off Keisuke's hand the moment she heard a voice she would never forget even if had been alive all the time from the Era of the Gods to now. That deceitful voice that all who took part in the Argo expedition knew all too well. The voice of...

[color=00ff7f]"The Witch of Colchis? What in the name of the Gods is someone like you doing here?"[/color] Atlanta said all of a sudden, loud enough to be heard by anyone on the summoning room, as she turned toward the mysterious woman draped in concealing purple garments. Even if her figure was veiled by the darkest of shadows, there was no way that Atalanta would forget the voice, or the smell, of the traitorous Princess of Colchis. Even then, Atalanta didn't forgot that, in her time of need, it was Medea who healed her wounds with forbidden magecraft, thus earning Atalanta's respect. Which was a nice thing, considering how badly the deal with the Argo ended for both women.

Nevertheless, that didn't excused the fact that Medea was a dangerous mercurial woman who had killed her own brother to escape her homeland and, most of all, that Noble Phantasm the Witch owned. The thought of what could happen if Medea were to misuse it made Atalanta's hairs rise. [color=00ff7f]"I hold a debt of honor to you. However, be aware, I'll not lay my eyes off of you while you have that dagger."[/color] Atlanta extended a protective arm over Keisuke. If they were to cooperate, that would be the best possible scenario, but she couldn't be sure of it until she heard it from the Witch's own lips, after all few were the lies that Atalanta's ears couldn't discern.

[@PKMNB0Y][@Raineh Daze]
[center][color=daa520][h2]Diarmuid Ua Duibhne[/h2][/color][/center]
Once more Diarmuid heard the call of a mage begging him to come back to the world. The last time was an experience he could never forget, though it ended in yet one more betrayal and one more bitter page on Diarmuid's story. He was going to be summoned as Lancer once, which left Diarmuid wondering if it was a curse or a blessing that he could once more wield his beloved spears. At least his time, Diarmuid hoped that his curse wouldn't cause him much undue troubles.

If... if he could get the chance to fight an opponent such as the King of Knights once more... That enough would make it worth being summoned, no matter what hardships Lancer would have to face. Either way, there was no time to think about such issues. The moment Diarmuid answered to the summons, another flash of light shone through the summoning hall, this one dissipating in scattering motes not unlike rose petals thrown to the wind.

Before Felix the figure of a tall, impossibly handsome, knight sporting an enchanted —cursed— mole on his face, was knelt facing the ground. His right forearm rested over his bent down knee and his left hand planted against the floor. To each of the knight's side laid a spear, deep crimson, like freshly drawn blood and vivid gold, like the Sun it self.

Without waiting for a word or order, the knight's voice rang loud and clear, proclaiming his vow of servitude to his new Master. [color=daa520]"I Servant Lancer, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, First Spear of the Fianna, heard your summons. From this moment forth, let my spears be thine, my Liege."[/color] Honoring one's traditions came first, even if Diarmuid could sense the presence of many more mages as well as Servant around him.

The only thing that he could hope is, that if any of them had the tiniest shred of honor, they would reveal their identities in a similar fashion.

[@Cojemo]