Alexander Nevsky

The position of submission and fealty was held as the bond between them was cemented and Rider began to sense the mana that flowed between him and his Master, enough to satisfy his needs and ensure that he would be able to fight. Perhaps he could not compare to some of the Heroes of legend, but if one were looking to find someone weak, they would not find it from the Russian as he rose back to his feet.

Of course he was no fool, and the peculiarities of his Masters familiars were noted. More importantly though were all the Spirits that surrounded them, some of them announcing their identities without care while others tended to be more silent or reserved when it came to this sort of thing. Some of them glimmered in the edge of his memory, Greek tales that had been carried to Russia via their commerce with the Mongols and the Muslims of the south. Not as much as he would have liked, perhaps, but he was not completely a foo. Others were pretty much unknown to him though.

Returning to his Master, Nevsky looked over the elderly figure before giving him a warm smile. "Perhaps not the most sociable of Masters, but so long as you are capable of making sound decisions, you do not need to be. I am Alexander Nevsky, Grand Prince of Vladimir and Servant of the Rider class. Wherever our battlefield may lie, you have my sword and horse." He didn't know whether they would be necessary with so many Heroic Spirits around, but if his lord said to fight, then he would fight.

@Beloss

Once his eyes had readjusted themselves from the bright flash before him, Felix couldn't help but smirk at the man that knelt before him. Diarmuid, a heroic warrior full of honor with a fighting spirit; indeed,it was just as the magus had planned. Felix had made sure to select someone with versatility and talent, and while the Lancer certainly fulfilled these qualifications easily there was another reason why Diarmuid had been summoned. You see, Felix believed himself to be a fantastic leader and a tactical genius, but for some reason there were those who refused to follow and listen to him. Even with Servants there was a chance they'd disobey their masters orders unless forced to by the use of the command seal that now painted itself onto the man's hand. However, if his research was correct the chances of this happening with the Lancer Diarmuid were lessened greatly due to his incredible sense of duty. Indeed, Felix had chosen to summon what he thought to be the perfect tool.

Of course there was definitely an added bonus that Felix surely didn't mind. In fact, if he had been attracted to the same sex the man was sure he'd have fallen for his Servant, and that's without that magical mole of his. Felix couldn't help but feel a bit of envy at how captivatingly handsome Diarmuid appeared to be. This would definitely prove to be beneficial in the long run. Convincing the other female Masters to follow his lead would surely be a peace of cake if he used Lancer. Now, Felix knew that the Servant was not overly fond of his gift of beauty, and thus may not be happy to be used in such a way. In fact, Diarmuid was likely not to appreciate Felix's methods in general. However, if that became an issue, he'd have to deal with it then.

Stepping forward, Felix knelt down in front of his Servant, making sure to be at eye level when he spoke to him. "That's good to hear. My name is Felix Wade, and as you may have guessed I am your Master and the one you shall be serving." Despite his stern and serious words, Felix spoke with a strong tone that indicated that, while Felix was certainly in charge, he would treat Diarmuid as if he was just another person. It's true that Felix saw Lancer as a tool, but he also knew that he was once a person with hopes and aspirations. He'd be using him for his own gains yes, but that was when Felix was in the mindset necessary for a battle. Outside of that, who knows? "You've been summoned as part of a group effort as you can likely discern from the others around you, but in the end you obey no one but me. I'll give you freedom and the right to do what you wish, but if I ask something of you I expect you to follow my orders. You understand?"

@KoL

---

What was this? Jack looked curiously at the scarf that had been wrapped around her small frame, turning it over to examine its every inch. It was warm and covered her body nicely, with its quality indicating a high level of care and love went into crafting it. Was this... was this a gift from her mother? Jack clutched the piece of clothing to her body tightly as she smiled. She'd never received a gift like this before, so having gotten one from her new mother immediately made the little Assassin happier than one could possibly imagine. What a gift indeed! At that point Jack knew this person was different than her previous mothers who'd refused her company and forced her to cut them open. Maybe her luck had finally worked out for her?

However, if one thought the girl seemed content at that point, then one could only describe her expression once her new mother spoke as one of pure elation. "Really?" Jack stared at the woman with a curious expression, as if trying to process what had been said with her fractured brain, and once she understood her face lit up as the small girl beamed bashfully. Without hesitation she wrapped her arms around her mother and buried her face in her chest. "Yay! Thank you mother, thank you! I'll be sure to kill lots and lots of people for you!" The contrast in the darkness of her final statement couldn't mask the fact that Jack had quickly become attached to Ghyslaine, which was both a blessing and a curse. After a few moments, Jack looked up at her mother, a gentle look of curiosity on her face. "Oh yeah, who exactly am I supposed to kill? Is it these other people?"

@Raineh Daze

Post#4
@Flamelord

---

The old Magus considered his Servants introduction with disatisfaction. History had never been a particularly strong point of his, but he had lived a long time, accumulated much knowledge over the years and he had never heard of any Alexander Nevsky before. For a Heroic Spirit he knew that was bad. Furthermore the Servant was clearly one of the Russian fables. They were a backwards and contentious people he knew, unwilling to join the rest of the west in even the most rudimentary aspect of the modern age. When they had at last been forced onto the twentieth century their first major act had been to give in disgracefully to the Huns in the Great War. No, this would simply not do. To gain the Root he would need a Servant more worthy of his experience.

But how was one to change their Servant once they had been summoned? Walgrave gazed down at the clear glyphs that outlined his right hand, a pattern vaguely reminiscent of breaking glass, (or was it ice?) scripted there. There was no unwinding those enchantments, at least not for the moment.

Dissatisfied as he was none of his misgivings made their way to his face, which remained as melancholy and weary looking as ever.

"Yes... yes." He nodded as the Servant pledged further allegiance to him. No matter, their first journey was soon and without a doubt they would take casualties in whatever dangerous land was waiting for them. When the time came it might prove a simple matter to dispose of the inadequate vessel and assume another whose Master had died in the field. In the meantime as always he would make use of this still valuable tool.

"Your protection is... hrrrrrn, appreciated. This is my first command. I have no... need of immediate defense until we leave." He leaned in slightly closer, lowering his voice till it was nearly imperceptible. "Search the room. You said you were ahhhhh, a Prince? A commander? Find the Servant that you judge to be most likely of the Class... Assassin. Make yourself known to them and their Master... and tell them hrrrn... tell them that your Master wishes to make their acquaintance. That there are great benefits to working with me... great rewards from the, haaa, Clock Tower Lords. They will, haaa, understand. All the better if their Master is young. Full of energy. Hungry for profit. A Prince could not fail to notice such people... after all."

Some shine on it? Metal wouldn't add much to the functionality of the heavy axe-sword, particularly gold, and wouldn't be as reinforced as the rest of it. Though he might be onto something entirely by accident... with her magecraft, precious metals would make it possible to add more than physical might to her strikes, or get sudden range at the expense of strength. If it was still needed after the first grail, then the homunculus would see about improving her offensive capabilities.

Like so many other people in this room, her Servant apparently had food on the mind--ridiculous, given that there was no need for any Servant to eat, but Svetleaze supposed that simply being able to eat again was considered reason enough for the heroes, whilst Masters realised he difficulty of finding food whilst on a scavenger hunt.

"Very well, Kintoki. Follow me," the homunculus said, leading the way towards the cafeteria.

---

Returning Jack's hug was easy, though it made Ghyslaine a little disappointed that even though she was quite tall, the Assassin was still too large to pick up. Less easily addressed was the serial killer's obvious penchant for... well, killing people. It was particularly uncanny coming from such an innocent-looking child and made worse by needing to accept that, as Assassin, her role was going to be to sneak up and violently butcher enemies in the course of their search for the Grails.

"You won't need to kill anyone here. It's safe," or hopefully would be, "Why don't we get something to eat and see if there's anyone else your age?"

The brunette offered one hand for Jack to take. Maybe she could pack lunch and then find some clothes whilst the others were eating, though finding something that fit might be a little tricky. At least that way her outfit would be less risque.

---

Atalanta's unexpected outburst earned her a glare--a rather impressive one, given that it was coming from about the third least-imposing Servant in the room and the only one that was an adult. Even more so with her eyes still being covered by a hood, which just went to show what could be done with magecraft with enough skill and a desire to look imposing given everyone else here. The glare was, in Caster's opinion, well deserved; nobody got away with calling her a witch.

Maybe she should tell some of these athletic types that Atalanta enjoyed foot races? That would be a quick and easy revenge, since it was unlikely that every one of them knew about their myths. Or, with her physical features, it couldn't be too hard to modify catnip slightly... or take advantage of the leylines running through here to induce a similar effect on susceptible targets.

But like all revenge, it would be slow in the coming. Any of those plans needed time to bring to fruition and it seemed unwise to ignore her anchor to this world to begin plotting so soon before all these Servants needed to take action. With her attention back on Althienna, the magus seemed mysterious rather than fully ominous once again.

"I am indeed Caster, though as this situation makes class an unclear label, you may call me Medea," she said. How did her Master have so much hair without it being magical in any way?

Althienna raised an eyebrow as she watched her Caster put quite the glare towards one of the other Servants. Especially given the fact that the hooded woman managed to glare through her hood. That was a rather impressive skill, and for a moment some whimsical part of Althienna's mind wondered if that was a Class Skill or a Personal one. Another idle part of her mind was acknowledging that the catlike Servant seemed rather cute, and wondering what her Caster's face looked like under her hood, but that could wait, couldn't it? Indeed it could.

As her Caster's attention returned to her, Althienna smiled pleasantly at her Servant in spite of the ominous display that had occurred moments before. It was, after all, much less ominous at the moment, so nothing to be an immediate concern, correct? Of course. And when her Caster introduced herself, Althienna's interests immediately swelled. So she had summoned Medea, then. The scraps of curly golden hair must have been some portion of the golden fleece if this was the case.

"I'm quite glad to have summoned one of the legendary female magi of Greek myth," the silver-haired magus replied, deciding swiftly against going into further detail. Medea's tale was not a happy one, and it seemed a poor idea to bring and of that up if she wanted to forge a good relationship with her Servant. Setting that aside, as well, was the fascinating opportunity she had obtained. A magus from the Age of Gods, whose Magecraft would hold an incredible potency. Ah, the things she could learn, even if Medea refused to share secrets, just by observation! Of course, it was impossible for a modern magus to obtain that level of magecraft, but to be able to observe it...

"As I said, it's wonderful to meet you, Medea," Althienna continued, "I am Althienna Ly Van Del Vanten."

EMIYA

"You know full well who your Master is. The ritual that brought you here also bound you to me, and these Seals are only the visible part of that pact. How would someone even perform the summoning without knowing that?"

A straightforward and logical answer, as he expected. But that wasn't exactly what he wanted to hear. "I wasn't asking about that. I was asking if you were worthy of me pledging myself to you. But I suppose the circumstances of this will be different, so I will accept you as my Master. I will tell you this, once we are in the singularity, I will follow my own will. As such I will disregard your orders to take my own course of action should they be lacking. Of course, any victory I achieve will be also be yours, and I will surrender any spoils I obtain to you. All you have to do is keep yourself safe somewhere."

Certainly not a bad arrangement for any normal magi. They'd be perfectly content to sit back leisurely somewhere surrounded by bounded fields, traps and god knows what else they could rig up to protect them. From what he could gather from his Master, it would be the best course of action to keep her safe. Just as he was thinking that however, one of the Servants around them declared his name in a clear voice. Admirable one might say, but clinging to such meaningless show of honor did him and his Master no good. Diarmuid of the Love Spot, was it? He should warn his master from looking at him directly.

EMIYA turned around, just to see his Master already staring at the Lancer. With some effort she closed her eyes and managed to dispel the curse. Impressive. Certainly enough to boost his opinion of her a little.

"So, Archer then. I'm sure you're already aware I'm not a powerhouse of a magus. Assuming this was a Grail war, where do you put our chances of success?"

That much was obvious, for the connection between them had solidified. The prana he was receiving from his master wasn't amazing, but it was sufficient. About their chances if they were in a Holy Grail war, from the two he could recognize, Diarmuid and Arthur, it would be a hard war. Diarmuid was, by no means, an average warrior. He had skill in both sword and lance, though he was summoned as a Lancer. King Arthur wielded Excalibur, and from his own experience, wielded the sword with frightening skill and power. However, these sort of wars were not won by sheer strength alone.

"I must compliment you, Master, for breaking out of Diarmuid's curse. I may have misjudged you. As for our chances in a real Holy Grail war? Pretty good, as long as nothing foolish is done."

Pretty good, for an average mage and him that was. Meaning it was still appallingly low as long as they didn't know what those other servants were capable of. If need be he could still use his trump card for a short time, though he suspected his master would need some rest for a while after using it.
@chukklehed

---

Dr. Jekyll

His smile never faded as he accepted Richard's hand and gave it a firm shake before letting go. Contrary to the other servants, Dr. Jekyll didn't give off much of a presence. Indeed, one could almost mistake him for human if they didn't know about the summoning. He did not look as impressive as the others as well, with perhaps only the knife he carried being the most outstanding, and even that pales in comparison to what the others were carrying.

"You would be correct in your assumption. I'll be working with you for the foreseeable future, so please feel free to call me Richard. In a room full of Magi and Servants, calling out for 'Master' would only lead to miscommunication going on, so we may as well get acquainted." Richard said, head turning to the doorway for a moment. "Perhaps we can converse on our way to the next meeting of ours? The mechanics of your summoning should have been informative in their own right, but I imagine you must have some questions just as I have for you."

"Of course, Ma- Richard." Dr. Jekyll pushed up his spectacles with one finger, glancing at the others around them for a brief moment. "After you."

He followed closely behind his Master, remaining aware of his surrounding as he did so.

"We seem to have a rather large amount of Servants gathering here. Is the trouble so severe that we have need for all of them?"

@Lonewolf685

Athena looked at the new arrival, her eyes wide. She fell back on her backside, after the usual fireworks. So much prana filled the air. Had she been successful? But what had she summoned exactly. It looked well, a young man. In a blue suit. With a red stick or something like that.

"You're not a doggy." was her initial reply, weak, and disoriented, to his own summoned's servants own words. "Ugh." she felt dizzy, and gripped her arm, as the command spell became embedded in her skin. Her eyes met his. And she grinned. "YOU ARE TEN TIMES COOLER. LIKE UM... A SUPER HERO. SUPER DOGGY!" Athena beamed at Cu Chuchulain, her smile returning. "Right! I'm glad i got someone as cool as you because Zebratech would spank me if i failed, yup yup!" She added in a fit of verbosity.

"But...Athena doesn't know much of fighting, so um... would you mind doing that in my stead, Lancer?" She said in a bashful stance, unable to face her servant.

And then people went noisy. More circles appeared. Athena stood there, back and forth. Her eyes bedazzled by the display. And then, something called her attention.

Witch of Colchis.

Medea.

As if sprung by an unknown force Athena raced towards the source of the discussion. "Hehe! Wait for me, just a second, okay?" She said to Lancer, with not an ounce in the care of the world. Her small feet seemed to go faster by the second, until her homing seeker missile of attention ended up with latching herself into the other servant's leg, as if it was a pink, cute tick.

"OHmygodyou'rerealyou'relikemygreatgreatgreatgreatgrannyandIlikeyoualotwillyouteachmemagecraftyousmelllikemommywhatsyourfavoritefood?"

She blinked, awaiting answer.

@ADamnFiddle

---

The servant nodded curtly, but sagely. His eyes acknowledging the young man as master. "So it shall be." He smiled slightly, before walking out of the circle, positioning himself neatly just behind Cecil. His eyes kept assessing the situation. Tempers flared, egos clashed. El cid stroke his beard thoughtfully.

"Tis' to be expected. Heroes have great egos after all, my master. And so have the magi who can call forth a servant. Tis' a sight i would rather not... witness." He added, shielding his master with one arm from potential outbursts of friendly fire. "I really hope there's a good explanation for this."

@Flamelord

@ShadowKingman
@Cojemo
@KoL

She had done it. Shinobu had summoned a Servant truly worth her time. Someone who had to be at least as powerful as her claimed rival, Felix. At the very least, she believed that what she had drawn would be able to benefit the Mage known as Zelretch in the quest he had given Shinobu with his request.

“Then as long as we work together, I am sure that with our greatness we can defeat any adversity. After all, you are a Servant worthy of me, and I assure you that I am a Magus worthy of the Prince.”

Perhaps it was a bit too cocky to speak with a Servant in such a way, but that was the sort of magus that Shinobu was. The Shiratori family wasn’t particularly amazing magi, but at the very least they were damn skilled and ensured that their daughter had surpassed what they were able to produce. Skillful activation of eastern magecraft was completely different than the perception of western magecraft.

“But know that it isn’t vanity. If I don’t believe that I am able to defeat what is before me, then who will? There is no one that isn’t an ally that would want me to fail, but even if I do have such “allies”, I must ensure that through my own strength I am able to pull my weight.”

However, There was a term that Shinobu had, at this time, be a bit weirded out by. Perhaps it was a misunderstanding, or perhaps her Servant had truly intended to use this term, but so long as they were partner Shinobu felt that she needed to know if her partner’s statement was true or not.

“Prince? How could someone like you be a ‘Prince’? You’re too cute!”

There was no way that someone as beautiful as this individual before her could be a boy. At least, she hoped not, as it might shatter a bit of her pride as a woman.

But that was no matter. At the very least, Shinobu wished to show off her newly acquired “toy of sorts” to Felix. If he was going to state that she didn’t belong within the confines of the war, than her drawing Prince Nezha, the Subjugator of Dragons, would not have been possible.

Turning to face Felix and to see what sort of Servant he had summoned, she stopped when her eyes darted to the face of an extremely handsome man. Perhaps a true prince charming. Though it could be said that her Servant was cute, the Servant who she had looked at was perhaps one of the most beautiful individuals she had ever seen in her life.

A prince charming. Someone you would perhaps want to sweep you off of your feet and drag you around the countryside.

But even the most novice of Magi could tell what was happening, A “curse” of sorts not unlike a mystic eyes. With a simple activation of her magical circuits, she was able to limit the effects of the “curse”.

“Hmm. it appears that the Master is nothing like his Servant in this case. A pretty Servant paired with a loser like you. Perhaps if this was a normal grail war I would have challenged you to a fight by now, but we are under orders to work together. Don’t think of me as an ‘ally’ though. I don’t want to be associated with someone who would steal a girl’s underwear like you.”

---

@AtomicNut
@VitaVitaAR
@Raineh Daze

“Dog… I suppose that isn’t too far off from the truth. I am Cu Chulainn of the Lancer Class, the greatest hero of Ireland. Pleased to meet ya’, Master. I guess I did want my Master to be a cute girl, but I didn’t expect her to be a little girl. Not that I can complain. I can tell that you are a really good Master at the very least. Better than good, even.”

A degree of pride seemed to show from Cu’s tone of voice in saying his name. Perhaps it wasn’t unwarranted. As he had stated, the Heroic Spirit “Cu Chulainn” was similar to someone like King Arthur was to the English, Roland or Joan D’Arc was to the French, or Heracles was to the Greeks. Simply put, a hero of great status, and one that cannot be understated. According to a certain Red-Cloak-wearing archer, there were hardly three Lancers who could match him in skill, and none in that caliber that could match his speed. If this was a normal holy grail war, knowledge of his name would surely give his enemies an advantage, but Cu wasn’t the sort of Servant to go down without a fight.

There was a bit of resentment in the fact he had been referred to as a “dog” by the little girl, but perhaps the combination of her age and compliments gave him the ability for this moment to forgive such a transgression. It didn’t seem like she meant any harm from it. However, there were a few people he knew that would use the term “dog” as an insult towards him. But Lancer sensed no malice from this little girl.

“But I am not the kind to ever back down from a fight. As long as you are my Master, I shall give you my all. Hell, I’ll kill a god if I have to. Not that I mind. I’ll protect you with my life. That is the way of the Red Branch; the Ulster way. The men of my country will keep to their words. Give me something to fight and I don’t think I can be dissatisfied.”

Perhaps the phrase “Try to keep their words” fits a bit better. Lancer was the sort to try their best to keep all their promises, but in the end that seemed to place him in a difficult spot. A man who liked irrational promises and beautiful woman. A man who was undone by one of the women in his life.

However, to the little girl who had summoned him, he would give his all to achieve victory for her. At the very least he would enjoy proving his spear against whatever he was fighting. If she was the one that the Grail had given him a contract with, at the very least he would respect that agreement.

That was about the time where his little Master had chosen to run off towards another group, requesting that he stay behind. But it wasn’t like he could really listen to this request. He didn’t know where she was going or why, but he knew there were a few dangerous people in the crowd of Servants.

“Sorry, I think I misplaced something of mine. Sorry about that, witch. Guess she is a bit hyper, but I doubt she means wrong..”

Though Cu seemed to speak with a degree of his cool about him, If he had even a single hint of an inclination that the “Witch of Colchis” had a desire to harm a hair on his Master’s head, in that same moment he would take the enemy's heart. Perhaps it was the fact that the two Servants were supposed to be “allies” that prevented someone like Cu Chulainn from acting upon this thought. A murderer of Children was within his sights.

Lancer was the sort of person who could easily laugh with his enemies, but he held no respect for the woman before him. Someone who had betrayed the trust of her kingdom, her husband, and worst of all her children. To Cu, who had made a promise to protect the little girl, he would be damned if she were to get hurt. Perhaps it wasn’t unlike a watchdog protecting its master?

---

The excitement her Master had only widened Caster's smile. The girl was quite ready to accept Caster fully even just from sight, and while it might be just a sign of her being an easily impressed girl, Caster was sure that Ravel would be a good companion to her. Indeed, what she knew about the girl was far from enough for the time being, but Caster was not in a hurry to dig too much of it. She knew a sincere expression just by glancing at one, and before the girl that had summoned her, Caster decided to try being flowery for once.
"Then the contract between us had been sealed. I am Himiko, the Caster. Even if I am a Queen, you have no need to prostate yourself before me. Yet, I will not act as a servant even to you, the one who became my Master. We are here as equals, nothing more and nothing less.

If you accept this arrangement, then let this be my vow that I shall guide you to the glory you seek."

That was more words than she had spoken for years, and even if it's subtle, signs of Caster struggling to say that much might be noticeable to someone that looked at her. Ah, everything from before she was summoned felt so close, yet even the radiant light of the sun couldn't dispel the darkness that clouded her mind. Something might have happened between her death and her summoning here. Was it simply due to a flaw in her summoning? That would be unlikely, or at least, she would have felt something else that went amiss if that was the case.

The room became more and more crowded as more Servants were summoned. It was suffocating to Caster, and her feeling of unease became more and more pronounced no matter how she tried to keep her stoic image. The mirror covering herself shook for a bit. Caster felt a presence in the room somewhere that the mirror would recognize. In the room there was a vulpine being that was currently busy clutching to her summoner, and Caster felt something odd inside of her. What did she have to do with a fox spirit? Perhaps that was just a mistake on her part. Caster turned her attention back at Ravel, her warm smile covered the multitudes of emotions hidden inside of her right now.
"I am pleased to meet you too. No adversaries would have the capability to stand between us, I am sure of it. Although, I also believe that it would benefit both of us if you inform us of what can you do as a magus while we leave this room."

Eleven sentences in less than an hour! Not even half an hour since she was summoned, and she already broke some of the records she had in life. Talking like this still made her uncomfortable, but the more she talk perhaps would mean that the more she would feel less awkward about it.

@ADamnFiddle

---

@Beloss

Sinfjotli, the World's Chosen. A legend she was, unfortunately, most unfamiliar with. While she was aware of the nature of the system she had partook on, one could hardly expect her to look up every single legend in preparation for this. She did, however, make a note that she would need to do some research on his legend at the earliest opportunity.

When he spoke of compensation, Amedea visibly paused. She honestly had no idea what a heroic legend could possibly want as compensation. Food? Wine? Treasure? All sorts of possibilities flashed in her head. Whatever he wanted to be appeased with, she was sure she would be able to arrange for it with the Wizard Marshal and the wide variety of resources available here.

In any case, she followed the Berserker's glance around at the fellow master and servant pairs and, regardless of what he said, she did not feel lucky in any degree. Others seemed to be getting along, either acting loyally or even outright eccentrically and being friendly with their Master. If Berserker had been the loyal or the eccentric kind, she would get away with asking other Masters for help. With Sinfjotli, on the the hand, she felt as if the moment she showed weakness he would kill her.

"Then Berserker Sinfjotli," she responded, "I am Amedea of the family Procul - although don't bother remembering that; it's a family I intended to have abandoned." she said, her face visibly scrunching up in reluctance when she said the last name she had been granted - and a name which indirectly caused her to be here.

"...and as long as you cause no permanent complications to our goal, you are free to defend your honor and dignity as you see fit."

---

@ADamnFiddle

Nezha could not respond in any other way than running the back of her head with her free hand and giving out a loose laugh in response to the question about how she could be a "prince". Legends may change and shift; her appearance was the only thing that remained consistent. Sometimes, heroes and perspectives were warped and people remember details wrongly. There were several examples of such legends which she knew lay within the Throne of Heroes.

"What, isn't this good enough to satisfy you?" she asked as she gave a small twirl around her master jokingly, her smile returning to her face as if it had never disappeared. "But in all seriousness, I am a prince. So I guess that means you have to treat me with respect? Don't worry about that though; I don't like standing on ceremony."

Turning and following her master's gaze, Nezha watched as she began some sort of quarrel with a fellow master with a strikingly handsome servant. Sizing him up, while she was quite confident that, should it have actually come to the battle her master wanted she would be able to give more than a good fight she found this situation troublesome. As a pervert as that man may be, according to her master's words, this man and his own servant would have to be allies in this upcoming struggle. As such, this wouldn't do. This wouldn't do at all! She needed to do something about this situation quickly but knew that interrupting in the conversation of masters would be less than ideal.

As such, she turned towards his servant, the strikingly handsome Lancer in garb that was about as traditionally Irish as her own armor was Chinese. Her innate magic resistance easily withstood against his curse and she gave Diarmuid a cheery wave.

"Hiya!"

@KoL@Cojemo

Richard Montag

@GreenGoat

Master and Servant departed from the hall, apparently the first to do so as of the moment, and walked side by side down the grand halls of Zelretch's isolated manor. Jeykl's assumption as to the time was correct, the glare of a low sun streaming through the windows beside them.

"That would be an accurate assessment. While there would be no reason for you to know this, that gentlemen watching over the summoning from the back of the room was the greatest indicator of the threat we are facing." Richard said, unconsciously adjusted his own glasses as his Servant did. "He is the master of one of the five Sorceries left in this world, a True Magic that gives him unparalleled access to parallel worlds and the Multiverse at large. There would be no Grail War, cooperative or otherwise, without his contributions to establishing the ritual."

This was all knowledge that was easily accessible if one had looked into the history of the Grail War, or were to assume that Zelretch single handidly designing this ritual would imply he had a hand in the Fuyuki system, but it should not diminish the impact of what it entailed.

"If the Kaleidoscope sees there are disturbances in reality that require a mass summoning of Heroic Spirits, then we may be facing a threat that is beyond comprehension."

He turned to the Servant beside him, prior smile appearing very hollow as the light caught his glasses. "And here we stand, a humble magus and an unassuming Heroic Spirit, in opposition of such a crisis. Did Zelretch make a mistake, or is the system more perceptive then we give it credit for?"

It lasted only a moment before the seriousness flittered away and Richard returned to being the warm conversationalist he was as they walked. "While we have a moment to ourselves, would be comfortable telling me your name? I've been wracking my brain as to who you may be, but when that child claimed the name of Jack the Ripper I had lost my best guess. No offense, but a well-to-do Englishman of the Assassin Class of a more recent era leaves me with few guesses."

---

Margarita Reynard

@VitaVitaAR @Raineh Daze @Cojemo

It was to no ones surprise that the child Servant devoured the offered treat with glee, Margarita remaining quiet while Faust reduced the scone to a shower of crumbs onto the floor and exploded into an exuberant dialogue that the Enforcer was far more prepared for this time around. Talk of summoning made it clear that she was now facing a Caster, and a Caster whose skills lied in summoning or conjuring rather then direct magical confrontation.

Margarita may have wanted to see Caster happy as she was, it would have been a bit much to allow her to use her Noble Phantasm -Or so she assumed the Doll was- in a room of freshly summoned Servants who are likely suspicious of those around them. She hadn't a child of her own, but even Margarita knew that it would be better to redirect the child's attention rather then outright berating them.

"Caster dear, how about we go make some new friends before you show me yours? It looks like everyone here is meeting for the first time so we don't want to overwhelm them all with too many people, you see?" Margarita said, looking about for someone who she could placate the eager child with. As much as Caster wanted to see a knight, those donning heavy plate armor in the room didn't seem to be the most welcoming at the moment, save that radiant blonde woman with the silver armor, but she was a bit far off from them. Her gaze had honed in on a tall man in blue who seemed to be handling the exuberant ballerina that was his Master very well, a trait Margarita thought worthy of having Caster introduced to the pair, only for the both of them to run off and open dialogue with a beleaguered Witch of Betrayal.

It would have been likely she locked her gaze on one Irishmen's mole had the crowd not blocked her view, leaving Margarita to finally settle upon a young woman trying to dress there Assassin in something less scandalous. Knives and identity aside, the Master seemed sensible and the Servant was complying with the request to not disembowel them all, so she decided to take a chance on the two and see about Lancer and his Master when they weren't antagonizing a Mage from the Age of Gods.

"Hey, those two look like they could use a friend. How about we say hello and introduce ourselves?" Margarita rose and settled a hand on Faust's head, giving her hair an affectionate pat as she tried to guide them over to Jack and new mother.

"Excuse me, Ms. Vinla-Meir. Would you perhaps be going to the cafeteria? I was wondering if you would not mind Caster and I tagging along. She's very eager to make friends."

"I wasn't asking about that. I was asking if you were worthy of me pledging myself to you. But I suppose the circumstances of this will be different, so I will accept you as my Master. I will tell you this, once we are in the singularity, I will follow my own will. As such I will disregard your orders to take my own course of action should they be lacking. Of course, any victory I achieve will be also be yours, and I will surrender any spoils I obtain to you. All you have to do is keep yourself safe somewhere."

Such an unruly Heroic Spirit. Still, Amari knew nothing about combat anyway, and if he was telling the truth he would only ignore her if he thought she was being foolish. She wasn't about to waste a command seal trying to demand his obedience, she had done enough research to know that wouldn't work.

"Fine, do what you want, but I won't hide like a coward while you're out fighting. I can take care of myself without getting in your way. Fight at your own discretion, but using your Noble Phantasm is at my discretion only understand? If I'm not ready for it, you don't use it."

She was careful to avoid putting the full force of her will behind the demand, so as to not use a command seals on accident. Impulsive actions always resulted in wasted resources.

"I must compliment you, Master, for breaking out of Diarmuid's curse. I may have misjudged you. As for our chances in a real Holy Grail war? Pretty good, as long as nothing foolish is done."

Diarmuid. The name was familiar. She had read a few reports on the Fourth Grail War before arriving at the facility. Still, as long as she was careful she could avoid the effects of the curse, though repeated exposure might become a problem. Amari sighed and closed her eyes, folding her hands together in front of her face.

"Look, I'm hungry and tired, and we need to talk in private so I know what you can do. We'll stop by the cafeteria then head to my room to talk."

She turned on her heel then, deliberately turning away from the Lancer she had just avoided falling for, and walked toward the exit of the room.
@GreenGoat

Cecil Lavernth

It was comforting to watch as Saber stepped about and moving into a flanking position, to know that he had his back should any actual violence break out. That sort of thing seemed like it would ruin the whole point of them getting along and working to defeat a common foe. Then again, without the immediacy of the threat present to distract themselves, it was only natural that they would conflict with each other and try to establish a pecking order.

Sighing, he glanced back to Saber and shook his head. "This is supposed to be a cooperative endeavor. Unfortunately that sort of thing comes easier to some than others, especially if there's previous experience involved." Hopefully they could all work it out before the first mission took place.

That said he watched the others interact before making up his mind. It seemed like they wouldn't be setting out immediately, which should give him some opportunity to settle in, and in a giant crowd such as this it was unlikely that anything would get accomplished. "Well then Saber, perhaps we should take lour leave and help clear the air a bit. I can look at your stats, but I'd like to see what you can do, if you don't mind."

@AtomicNut

---

Alexander Nevsky

it was perhaps fortunate that Rider was not privy to the thoughts of his Master, for he could have provided a list of his accomplishments had he known. Instead he merely waited and listened to the request that was made by his liege, who asked that he locate the Master of an Assassin class Servant in this room and then indicate that Walgrave wanted to meet them. Fairly simple, as far as tasks went.

Yet it was nonetheless odd, at least from his perspective. Oh he understood why, since he had Charisma to draw on while his Master was what one would consider softspoken at best. He was merely wondering why Walgrave wanted to talk with an Assassin or their Master. From his understanding this struggle wasn't going to require that sort of trickery (For if it was then they certainly wouldn't have done the summoning in this room where everyone else could see and potentially identify their Assassin. So what was his Master attempting to accomplish? It served as food for thought, even as Nevsky gave his response. "Very well my liege," he agreed with a bow before stepping away, and sweeping the room to locate someone who fit the criteria needed.

he just barely caught sight of one of the Master-Servant pairings leaving the room, and a few others clustered near one of the other Assassins there did seem to be. But the fact that she was naught but a small child put a dampener on that idea, even if she had managed to qualify for the Assassin class at some point. Nevsky would not be the one to bring someone before their time to the battlefield, of his own volition.

With that his mind was made up, and he turned his attention to his Master. "I shall take my leave then. Call me if you require my aid." With that he moved to leave, following after those who had left previously so as to accomplish the task he had been given.

@Lonewolf685@GreenGoat@Beloss

"My, my, aren't you a devoted one?" Those were Seyrun's first words for her newly summoned Servant, said right after a surprised gasp from the inhuman strength with which the vulpine woman arrested the control of Seyrun's arm. "While I more than enjoy being showered with affection in such a way right after our first meeting, don't you think that it would be better to continue our introduction while we have lunch? Heroic Spirits may lack the need for mundane nourishment, but they certainly don't lack the drive for it, right?" Seyrun's voice was affable as she spoke to her Servant, beckoning her to leave for the cafeteria.

Naturally, such a request had ulterior motivations, Seyrun wanted, no she needed, to know more about what sort of Servants the other Masters had summoned. Thanks to the generalized hubbub, Seyrun was able to single out only a few names, Atalanta the Virgin Huntress of Artemis and Princess of Arcadia, Medea the Witch of Colchis and second most powerful spellcaster of the Age of Gods, Diarmuid of the Love Spot, someone that forced Seyrun to open her Magic Circuits to counter his fabled Curse of Love. Those were the Heroic Spirits that Seyrun had any knowledge about.

Seyrun also heard the names Nezha, for Shinobu's Servant and Kintoki, for the one that belonged to the being that, above all but her own Servant, commanded Seyrun's attention, the Einzbern homuculus. Though, Seyrun was a shortage of knowledge about Eastern traditions, including her own Servant, to say the truth. However, one could always turn a shortcoming into an opportunity to achieve even greater heights, which is exactly what Seyrun planned to do as she followed right behind the Homunculus, overhearing just a bit of the argument about jewelry that she had with "Kintoki."

"Excuse, ma'am..." Seyrun said as she hurried her Servant to meet the Einzbern's pace, after making sure that the fox woman was willing to follow her. "Apologies for the intrusion, but my Servant and I couldn't avoid overhearing an excerpt of your conversation with your Servant. If it will not be a bother, would you mind sharing a table? I'm Seyrun, of the Leviathan household, sure a magus of a distinguished bloodline such as yours heard of our reputation as jewelcrafters, right? I would love to talk about that with both if you. Furthermore, our Servants seem to share a somewhat common place of origins, even though mine still hasn't made her name known. Don't you think this is a good basis for the formation of a team?" Seyrun fell silent after she said her piece, keeping up with the homunculus' pace, while waiting for a reply.
@Lonewolf685@Raineh Daze


"!?" For a moment Atalanta stood there frozen. She didn't feared Medea. Even taking into account the Witch's Noble Phantasm, Atalanta was sure tha she could take Medea down in the blink of an eye if need be, however... The intensity of the malice hidden behind Medea's glare would be enough to freeze Heracles on his tracks and, Atalanta knew that since it happened before her very eyes.

Atlanta was snapped out of the awkward revelry by her Master talking about them going out to procure food. That was certainly a better development than thinking about Medea at the moment. "That will do. Let us go, Keisuke, before others steal our spoils." As soon as Atalanta turned around to leave, her eyes grew immensely cold and detached as they crossed the path of Diarmuid's Love Spot, causing her heart to skip a beat at the sight of Lancer's handsomeness that could challenge even that of Appolo. "No matter where, or when, you go, men never change..." Atalanta commented in a sour voice, her Magic Resistance was enough to ensure that the Curse didn't affected her for more than a moment, but the very thought of the existence of dirty magics such as that one outraged Atalanta.

When Atalanta paused to pay heed to her senses, she evaluated the threat everyone still present in the room represented. They were really in a gathering worthy of the a Heroic Spirit such as Atalanta. And, while she didn't knew anything about most, if not all of them, for the virtue of being the second oldest Servant in the whole group, Atalanta made sure to memorize as many names, faces and smells as she could.

Anyway, they couldn't stay for long, Atalanta didn't wanted to miss the chance to eat after the eternity she passed on the Throne. Even if her current body didn't needed so, Atalanta hadn't forgot the need to pay proper tribute for the bounty of the earth, by until she could hold no more, such as the beasts she grew up with. Atalanta's nose caught the smell of food and she began to walk at a hasty pace toward the food hall while deftly avoiding collisions with the other Masters and Servants pairings, though she always made sure to keep Keisuke within her perception range. If any threat dared come to him, Atalanta would act in a moment.

Truth be told, Atalanta's rank of Independent Action was such that she could keep on existing for an indeterminate time, even if Keisuke were to be killed. Thus, she didn't felt obliged to protect him any more than their contract established. What Atlanta feared was Medea taking advantage of a momentary lapse to use her Noble Phantasm on Keisuke. Atalanta couldn't think what fate such a possibility held for her. In fact, leaving a being as unstable as Medea on a place with so much readily available prana and Servants was a very bad idea. If the witch were to turn this whole building in her sanctum none could tell what sort of catastrophe she could unleash upon the world.

Even then, such concerns were beyond Atalanta. Scheming was a thing best left for mages, on their slyness. All that Atalanta cared for was to pretty much pounce the first thing she saw before her when she reached the cafeteria, a whole roasted boar, which Atalanta hogged all to herself, wolfing the swine down with animal haste... and manners, along with a plate of apples that were within her arms reach.
@PKMNB0Y


"I'm moved by your generosity, my Liege. I shall be at your service, as long as this summoning lasts, the life of Diarmuid Ua Duibhne belongs to you." Diarmuid finally got back to his feet, showing not only how he was handsome, but also had a statuesque physique, even gods would pale before this man's beauty.

Lancer hefted his spears, Gae Dearg propped against his right shoulder and Gae Buidhe held in a relaxed stance on his left hand. He was ready to turn and leave when a girl a head and some smaller than him called Diarmuid. At first, Diarmuid frowned, thinking that his curse had made another woman fall for him. However this would prove to be wrong as the weapon the girl wielded made it clear that she was Lancer as well. Her Magic Resistance naturally shielded her against Diarmuid's curse, which he was thankful for.

"Apologies for my manners." Diarmuid corrected himself just as he notice that he spaced around for just enough time to give this girl a decisive opening if they were fighting one another. "For a moment I misplaced your intentions," Diarmuid's nod made it evident that he was talking about his cursed mole, even as he kept on speaking, "What may I help you with? Be it a chance for a fair spar between comrades, or a conversation besides fine wine and food, I, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, First Spear of the Knights of Fianna, will be honored to make up for my poor conduct by being your escort."

"Is that of your agreement, mylady?" Diarmuid dismissed his spears, which vanished in an ethereal mist, before extending his inviting hand to his fellow Servant. Even without the curse of his Love Spot, at this very moment Diarmuid's conduct was so gallant and knight-like that many a women would be excused if they felt their heart skip a beat or two.
@ShadowKingman@Cojemo

Post#4
@ShadowKingman

---

"Then Berserker Sinfjotli, I am Amedea of the family Procul - although don't bother remembering that; it's a family I intended to have abandoned. And as long as you cause no permanent complications to our goal, you are free to defend your honor and dignity as you see fit."

Berserker cocked his head to one side, taken aback by her sudden confession of familial disloyalty. He blinked a few times torn between outrage and sympathy. Family was not something to be thrown aside lightly, much less spoken openly about, especially to a powerful stranger. To break such a powerful taboo and speak about it openly no less...

Yet that was the very path he had walked in life on his own road to heroism. Maybe she was far more suited to him than he had first judged?

Sinfjotli chuckled and shook his head. He simply didn't know what to make of this girl anymore. It all depended on the reason for her disgrace, whether or not she had abandoned them because they had shamed themselves, or if she had been thrown out for bringing shame on them. He would have to wait and see. He should feel angry for the misfortune of being summoned by an outcast but somehow he found himself in sudden good humor.

His chuckle turned into a laugh.

"Well, you're not shy about your position at least." He said once he had recovered himself. "Though you're mad if you think you can offer me fair compensation while outcast from your own family. Ha! No matter, no matter. I have a certain... understanding with those on the run. I am Sinfjotli, the greatest warrior who's ever lived! Remain with me and you will have more plunder and glory than you could ever dream of, not to mention whatever prize lies at the end of this conflict.

Never forget, the favor of Wodan lies with me, whoever stands by my side will share in that favor, so, whatever your position or breeding before now, all that has changed. Hold your head up, do not shame us and before you know it you will be a queen among your kind.

Now...

Sinfjotli turned and regarded the rest of the assembled crowd. Most were still sticking to pairs, but a few had wandered off and engaged the others.
"Do you know any of this band? Who is Lord here? Who called the raid?"

---

Post#5
@Flamelord

---

Walgrave nodded slowly as his Servant took his leave. Despite the guarantee given by Zelretch himself Walgrave suddenly felt very vulnerable alone in the room with so many powerful spirits. What he wouldn't give for a chair right now.

Slowly the ageing magus edged towards one of the walls, watching the room with suspicious eyes, waiting for the next stage to come. With a brief mental command he sent a few of his cockroaches out, watching them scuttle across the floor to the left and right of him towards the Servant Master pairs flanking him. Sinking his chin down onto his chest he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. An outside observer might have taken him to be asleep, but inside his mind he was looking through the eyes of his familiars, listening to their ears, and waiting.

Keisuke gritted his teeth as the feeling of Medea glaring in his general direction pierced through him, sending a shiver (or five) straight down his spine. Though he had certainly dealt with intimidating things in the past, the death glare from the Caster (through a damn hood, no less) caused him to pause for a moment before shaking it off. If this was just a result of rudimentary magecraft from the Age of Gods, and if it was used for such a trivial purpose, who knew what she would be able to perform given enough time and resources.

As he began to walk with Atalanta towards the room's exit, the Enforcer barely caught the Servant's final statement, which caused him to frown. Turning toward the Lancer that had caught her attention, Keisuke tried to trace the origin of her discontent...
Which was easy enough to do, given the location of the mole and all that.
Even if he wasn't necessarily affected or knew much (if at all) about Diarmuid's myth, the effect was clear enough if he pieced together all the context he knew about Atalanta. Even if it was understandable, though, he couldn't help but feel a bit annoyed. There was clearly a gap between him and his Servant that would not be easily bridged...
Which meant he had a lot of work ahead of him to actually gain her trust,
"...I take offense to that last statement. It's not like all guys are like that, y'know..." he responded, shaking his head as he picked up his pace in an ultimately futile attempt to catch up to his Servant.

Once he arrived at the dining hall, he was greeted with the sight of Atalanta greedily eating with no regard for any manners. Keisuke thought for a moment to call her out for it, but soon decided against doing so and instead began to walk around the banquet laid out in front of them.

"Rice, fish, egg, soy sauce, pork, beef... Yes, please," he said to himself, smiling as he obtained a portion of each before noting an array of pastries and pies off to the side. Though he didn't quite care much for sweet things during any time not after dinner, the smell of caramelized apples underneath the crust of one coupled with the small pile of apples next to Atalanta made him consider at least attempting to try and relate.

And so that was added to the list of food he had on his plate, if only to try and present to the Archer.

With food in hand, Keisuke made his way over to where Atalanta was and poked her back with his right elbow, motioning towards the variety of empty tables nearby.

"I'm gonna eat over there; I'd recommend you move, too, else we be inconvenient towards others who also want to eat. The food won't run away or anything, so don't worry about trying to eat all you can; they probably have more in stock, to be honest," he said, turning away to take his seat. "By the way, they have some apple pie here. If you want to try it out, I picked some up, just in case."

Trying to bribe a cat-eared Servant with pie... Quite frankly, the Enforcer never thought he'd see the day where he'd even attempt something like this.

---

"Woohoo! Food!" Kintoki shouted, pumping his fist in the air as he followed Svetleaze out of the room. The thought of eating meat again was at the forefront of his mind, and the Berserker licked his lips as he imagined just biting into a giant cut of wild boar.
Mmm, boar.
With a wide grin on his face, Kintoki turned his head as he noticed that one of the other Masters was trying to catch the attention of his own, which was... Well, frankly, food was more important at the moment, but hey, the more the merrier, right?

Once he arrived at the hall, though, it was as if Kintoki's Mad Enhancement had gone off (it actually hadn't, but the sight of food certainly made him dash forward like a hungry beast). With a deft motion, Kintoki grabbed the bones of the equivalent of two racks of lamb between the gaps of his fingers and began chomping down, walking back over to his Master with those in hand. He could grab more later, but his desire to meat had to be sated first.

"...Mmm... Hey, this ain't boar! Pretty juicy stuff, but it ain't boar. Dang," he said between bites, chomping off one after the other as she went to obtain her own food...

Assuming that Svetleaze did so, of course. He had enough work as a retainer to know that they were to stand at their lord's beck and call, even if he was the type that occasionally broke ranks because of his priority towards things like food.

But hey, it was food! Surely she could excuse him for wanting something to eat, right?

@Beloss

Amedea had a dozen ways she could respond to her servant's promises. She didn't want to be a queen. She didn't want either glory or plunder. She didn't want whatever prize laid at the end of this conflict - whatever compensation Zeltrech would offer her in return for her "services".

What she wanted was to finish whatever inane or possibly outright suicidal tasks the Wizard Marshal set out for her to do, come back alive and go back to her own regular life. Out of all of the magus who had gathered here, she was sure she was the only one who didn't come wagging with her tongue out like some loyal dog coming here at the beck and call of a more powerful wolf. Instead, she had been threatened, cornered into coming here. They had to warn her of threats, of dangers, and how only by coming with them could she aid in stopping it. When faced with such a notion, how could one not agree? The had cornered her into coming and she knew it, and she hated the fact that both knew she would come.

But as cathartic as it would be, she could not say something like that. Not in front of the other gathered masters whom she would not give the pleasure of showing weakness to. Not in front of legendary heroes across mythology, each with deeds done almost daily that would hold more impact than her life combined.

Not in front of her own servant.

She kept silent as he spoke, with no way to answer him. Only at the very end could she finally veer the topic away into more immediate matters she felt comfortable with dealing with. Looking around at the crowd, she began to feel a bit stifled. Taking a sigh, she turned towards the door.

"We were gathered by the Wizard Marshal Zeltrech." she informed Berserker, glancing in the direction of the aged magician before turning back in the direction of the exit - and thus the cafeteria. "But for now, let's get out of here. It's been a long morning and I'm feeling hungry, and I don't know about you but I think you won't mind some food either."

And the longer they stayed here, the more she feared that Sinfjotli would start a fight. Leaving at the first opportunity seemed the wisest idea.

Post#4
@ShadowKingman
@KoL

---

"We were gathered by the Wizard Marshal Zeltrech. But for now, let's get out of here. It's been a long morning and I'm feeling hungry, and I don't know about you but I think you won't mind some food either."

Berserker followed her gaze, looking into the other chamber which the rest of the band was beginning to drain into. A feast was evidently underway, and he wondered how he had not noticed before. His smile widened at the sight. Now, this was a much better start to a raiding party than a cold sterile room full of rune circles! He didn't know who this so called Wizard Marshal was, but if he had prepared this then he would be satisfied to accept his hospitality for now.

"Let's go! No good missing out on the pre battle celebrations. Your lucky again girl! You will dine besides heroes today."

Sinfjotli set out towards the oddly shaped feast hall. He crossed the room quickly, trusting his Master to keep up with him he entered the room an admired the racks of meat and delicacies that were spread out across various tables. Not that he recognized most of them, but some were universal.

Even more interesting however were the occupants.

Just a little way from him an odd pair were seemingly having a minor confrontation. A small bizarrely dressed waif and a tall handsomely built man bearing a pair of wicked looking spears. The girl he could leave or take, but he made a note to introduce himself to the warrior at some point. Maybe a spear throwing contest would be in order?

Further on however was where he found a real subject worth immediate consideration. The man was large, as big as himself with short golden locks. He was feasting, gobbling down racks of lamb with happy abandon. Immediately Sinfjotli wanted to fight the man. He would be a worthy adversary he was certain, and once he had beaten him, a good ally to have at his back. He started off in his direction, when a simply delightful smell drove him to distraction.

He had passed close to one of the tables where an immense roasted boar was set. Huge, golden brown and delicious looking he almost didn't notice the one occupied with it untill he was a step or two away.

He found himself looking at a strangely dressed woman with long beautiful lustrous hair and... the ears of a weasel? He stared in amusement and struggled to prevent himself from chuckling. What gods or elves or witches had the poor maiden offended to be cursed with those? Whatever had happened to her in her life, she was digging into an immense boar with commendable speed and savagery. She was very beautiful, large green eyes, rich clothing, strong smooth limbs and the features of a petty goddess.

He looked again to the golden haired warrior and decided he could wait.

Snatching a bottle of wine off a nearby table he took a step closer and held it out to her along with a tall glass.

"Woman, are you going to eat all of that by yourself? With no drink to go along?

As the homunculus lead her Servant towards the cafeteria, some unknown Master ran up and started babbling. It was honestly quite irritating--why should Svetleaze know of some useless family just because of their use of jewellery? The Einzbern already knew a far greater practitioner of such arts if the need arose and, in less pressing circumstances, the Tohsaka would otherwise suffice. Of course, the white-haired girl showed none of her irritation nor ignorance, affecting an interested mask.

Naturally, whilst trying to work out some way of extricating herself from this conversation.

"On the matter of teams and of jewellery, I believe that you would be best served by asking an audience with Master Schweinorg. I cannot claim to know how we are to proceed from here," Svetleaze said, stepping foot into the cafeteria and promptly losing her Servant... until he returned with a rack of meat, whilst she settled for a simpler bowl of soup.

"It would be difficult to supply much large game to the middle of an ocean, Kintoki."

---

That her Master was showing her some respect was immediately undermined by something latching onto Caster at speed. Far too low a speed to be damaging, which was good for the child in question, but still enough to knock off the hood. Then Athena completely lost her, the babble of words failing to convey any meaningful information to the Caster. So she stood for a few seconds, trying to work out what to do with a child attached to her hip.

Then Setanta came over and made everything simple. A witch, was she? Based on no information at all? There was no reason that he should know better than to call her that... but that was also no reason to let him go completely freely.

"Perhaps your Master appreciates even other Servants to you? She came over awfully fast."

Caster pouted, hugging Gretchen to her chest as she did. She couldn't summon her friends? Or let Gretchen out? But there were so many people, couldn't that be even more fun?! Inviting even more people and making things even more exciting, for one big party! They were going to eat, too! So wouldn't that be really exciting!? But... Her Master had said no, and, begrudgingly, Caster was going to follow that order. Though the moment that her Master said it was okay to summon and let Gretchen out, she would! Still clutching the doll closely to her chest and pouting, the little girl let out a thoughtful, mature response.

"... Fiiiiiiiine!" Caster let out her rather whiny complaint. However, her disappointment was somewhat alleviated when Margarita mentioned going to meet one of the other Master-Servant pairs, who seemed like they needed a friend. Caster rather quickly brightened up at this news, her smile returning as she was patted on the head and lead over to the other Master and her Servant.

The Servant was a pale, doll-like girl clad in a scarf(which seemed new) and a... skimpy... thing, which seemed like clothes she had been summoned in. White-haired, and with knives... that was proooobably Assassin!

"Hi there!" Caster said cheerfully, immediately circling around the other Servant to investigate her, "It's nice to meet you even though I don't know who you are yet it's still nice to meet you really nice yes I'm Caster well that's my class I haven't told anyone my name yet because no-one has asked yet and that means I haven't said it yet but anyway you look like you must be cold are you cold then again it's not cold in here but you have a scarf so maybe you are cold but maybe not do you like cake I like cake cake is really tasty do you want to have a tea party we should have a tea party what's your name where are you from what's your favorite animal what kind of hats do you like?!"

The child Servant cheerfully grinned after her long rambling stream of consciousness introduction.

"... Oh, and this is Gretchen!"

Illustratively, she held Gretchen up.

"She's happy to meet you too!"

---

Althienna paused for a moment, confused and surprised, when a child seemed to appear from no-where and latch onto her Servant. Ah, it was the little girl from before? What was she doing, exactly? She said... something, but it was hard to tell exactly what she said, it came out so fast.

However, the little girls 'assault' had knocked off Medea's hood... For a few moments, the silver-haired mage stared. Then, faintly blushing, she put a hand to her cheek, tilting her head lightly to one side.

"Oh, my," was her only comment. "I truly am quite lucky..."

Before she could elaborate on what she meant, given she had said such things upon seeing Caster's face, she decided it was best to intervene in what appeared to be a possible situation brewing between the little girl's Servant and her own. Especially given what appeared to be rather unfair attacks leveled on Medea. Certainly, she was not the hero of her story, but was she not a tragic figure as well, in a way?

Althienna stepped forward, her aim being to interpose herself between the two legendary figures.

"Now, now, were are meant to be on the same side here, are we not?" she said, simply, looking between the two Servants. "Pointless antagonizing behavior seems to be quite an unwise move."

With a pleasant smile, she turned to the man in the blue bodysuit.

"Besides, would it not be best to treat one in position to support you with the kindness you wish to be treated with?"