"As long as it's under my guard, I shall take care that it's not lost or damaged in any way." Syerun declared as she pocketed the device provided by Zeltrech. Before stepping through the portal, the young Scandinavian girl heard the remainder of the instructions, committing them to her memory. Kirei parting words caused Seyrun to shiver. There was something sinister with the priest, though she wasn't able, or actually wanted to discern it.



Maybe it was the nature of her magecraft, maybe the fact that she was born and raised here on the frigid cradle of the Æsir, or maybe because she was snuggling against the exuberant coat of Tamamo's tail fur; nevertheless the fact still remained that Seyrun seemed to be quite comfortable even on the freezing gust the assailed the party as soon as they crossed the boundary of time and space.

"Hearing tales of Kaleidoscope's might and seeing it first hand are two completely different experiences." Seyrun digressed idly as she wait for the others to assemble.

"Now then, Tama, everyone else, our first course of action should be- Huh, what's that?" Before Seyrun could even elaborate her opinion of what they should do, the sound of the nearby conflict and the spectral blue lights dancing around the dead made the young magus come to a halt.

The sudden change of atmosphere felt like hitting an iron wall. The pressure coming from the Heroic Spirits was like a whirlwind of gusting prana, the snow spilling around everytime spear clashed against sword. The might howl of the beastlike Berserker that followed their group -- Sinfjotli of the Volsungs -- broke the silence one moment before sword-wielding the Heroic Spirit yelled, alerting them of the imminent peril.

The dead rose and as if in a mockery of Ragnarok, bore their arms once more to fight and die one last time before the world tumbled down. Only one being could be the cause of this, the spear-wielder -- Lancer -- there could be only one class of beings that matched such a description in all legends of the Vikings. Shield Maiden, Valkyrie. The perception of such a reality rattled Seyrun to the bones, stopping all of her thought process for a moment. That is, until yowl of the deathless snapped her back to the world before them, something even the mind of a magus would have a hard time calling 'reality'.

"Tama, go assist the swordsman! Do what you must to help him defeat or repel that woman. But take care, she can only be a Valkyrie, if my guess is right Heroic Spirits of any class should be at a disadvantage when fighting Odin's Shield Maidens." Seyrun gave her order resolutely. If they didn't think fast and acted even faster this could get out of hand pretty quickly. "Don't worry with me, a few undead won't be taking me down so easily. Also, until we are certain of her identity you are forbidden of unleashing your Noble Phantasm, we cannot risk a move that may backfire on us. The last thing want to is see you die before we accomplish anything together."

After her final words for Tamamo, Seyrun turned her attention to the risen warriors. "I'm sorry this has to be like this. Those who are already deceased deserve an appropriate passing rite. May you find your way back to Valhala in a proper funeral pyre." Seyrun's voice was apologetic as she opened her magic circuits, pumping mana into her Crest.



With a gesture of Seyrun's fingers a single rune was drawn in the air in front of her, spewing all consuming flames over three of the undead that were closely grouped (most likely because they were involved in the killing of one another). Ansuz, the rune evoking the name and power of Odin himself, it wouldn't take long before those caught by it burned down to naught but ashes.



Atalanta remained quiet for most of the time as they waited to cross the portal, after they did it her countenance didn't change much. She waited until it was time to be called into action. The guards prompted her attention as they pointed their weapons at Keisuke and the other Masters. Atalanta didn't deemed them as dangerous yet her attention was drawn by the exchange.

That is, until a huge pillar of light sprouted nearby and an explosion rocked the foundations of the ziggurat before them.

"I'll scout ahead, Keisuke. Call if you need me!" Atalanta manifested her physical form once again and dashed ahead in a burst of speed that would leave any other Servant behind, nothing less to be expected of the fastest of the Greek heroes from the Age of the Gods. With a couple leaps the Huntress arrived atop the ziggurat, taking care to stay away from the light while she tried to get a general overview of their position and situation.

"I'm at the top of the temple, Keisuke. For the time being I see no suspect movements in the area around us. What are your orders as to possible enemies? Should I snipe them or wait for confirmation?" Atalanta asked Keisuke through their shared telepathic bond while reading her bow and arrows. As long as she was at lookout, no one but the best of the Assassins would be able to approach the ziggurath without being noticed.

---

@PKMNB0Y@Lonewolf685@Beloss@Flamelord@GreenGoat@Nanashi Ninanai@ADamnFiddle

Alexander Nevsky

Nevsky waited patiently as the complex magic activated, creating spheres of light before all of the pairs before solidifying into doorways to the world beyond. He moved without hesitation, aware of where they were going and ready for it. He had no doubt that his Lord was up for the challenges ahead, and most certainly so when he was there to assist in their struggle to save the world. Now they merely had to see what it was they would be dealing with when they arrived.

Stepping through, the first thing the Russian noticed was the cold. It was all around them, pervasive, chilling the bone even with the clothes that he was wearing. He might have been used to it, but that did not mean it couldn't be unpleasant. The next he noticed was the darkness lit by blue flames, and he could be glad for his vision that he could see as well as he did. But trying to ride at this time might be a bad idea, to put it mildly.

Most notable though was the fight in front of them, two fierce warriors duking it out in a clash that rivaled the mightiest he had heard about in old bards tales. They might not be shattering mountains, but they were clearly on a level above normal humans.

"I am here, my Lord," Nevsky replied as he moved to stand beside Walgrave with shield and sword manifested and ready to use. "There is foul sorcery at work here," he muttered as he eyed the corpses. A wise concern as they bean to move all of a sudden, leading the nearby Master to lash out with runes at them. Nevsky himself struck with a swift blow, killing one that had drawn too near and seemed to be grabbing for his ankle. For now he would defend him and his Lord, as he waited for direction.

@Beloss@KoL

Unfortunately, it seemed that the disrespectful Servant wasn't even willing to converse with a Master, no matter that the entire system made Masters every bit as valuable as the heroes they were paired with. It didn't matter how much power one might have if they couldn't even exist in the world without extreme support. She would have to work out a way to force the braggart to acknowledge her directly in the future.

For now, it was a simple choice of where to go. Now, she was far more suited to heading to icy landscapes... but to miss a chance to go explore some new environment? That would be even worse. That it was also so old meant that the potential secrets that could be understood simply by standing there...

Her hands were itching to clear up the mess that stood in front of them. It would be trivially easy to swing her weapon and cut a chunk out of the soldiers that way. There was an even easier option, though.

"Kintoki, clear a path. I'll follow."

However he did it, it wouldn't be hard for her to stick close behind.

---

Meeting that amusing Japanese girl once again had almost made this trip worth it on its own but her Servant... to have such an unimposing and pretty Servant was a pretty damn good deal. Especially because she didn't have to foot the bill for feeding the glutton. Who knew that King Arthur was so small and hungry? Though to be interrupted partway through the meal by another knight that got into a contest of trying to shoulder more and more blame for how Camelot had fallen apart had been a bit strange...

It had also cost them quite a bit of time in actually getting to the meeting but the four of them had gotten there in the end. Only to step forward into annoyingly blistering heat and the threat of a fight.

Not wanting to be unprepared in case the soldiers turned on them, the tall magus kept her fingers at the ready, picking off a note or two. If they made an aggressive move, there would be fire.

---

To have been summoned twice out of the pool of all heroes that could have ever been summoned was astonishing. To be summoned in a position to make amends for his chain of failures and having already attained the punishment he deserved had to be an act of God. Though the king remained resilient in her belief that the kingdom's downfall was to be entirely shouldered by the one person blameless in the acts that lead up to it...

Neither of their Masters had the time to allow the discussion to play out to conclusion and now here they stood, armoured beneath a blazing sun with a large number of particularly on-edge soldiers around.

And the Knight of the Lake had only a ladle for a weapon.

Lancelot... the last time she had seen him, he had been gripped by madness, though in death he had not... still, to be summoned into the class of Berserker. It had all been her fault. No matter what the faithful Knight of the Lake insisted, Arturia Pendragon was certain the blame was placed firmly, rightfully, upon her shoulders. However, there had not been much time to debate such matters. Saber's duty still stood above all else, and that duty had taken her elsewhere. It was impossible to ignore the blazing heat and light, but regardless Saber did not pay heed to that as much as she did to the enormous beam of light that had emerged from what sounded like an explosion. The soldiers in their way would need to step aside, so they could proceed onward.

However, they were not yet stepping forward to fight. Indeed, if they were forced into combat, Saber would conduct herself with honor in battle. However, they were not seeking to battle the local soldiery. Instead, the short blonde knight elected to use another method, as opposed to anything else.

Her armored feet clanked on the stone steps as she proceeded forward, Invisible Air hazily enwrapping Excalibur.

"We mean no harm," she began, "We have come to investigate that light, step aside so we may proceed. We do not seek to attack this land's lords or its citizens. But if we are attacked, we will defend ourselves."

It was straightforward and to the point. The goal was to discover the origin of the light and what it was doing, not to attack those who had pledged to defend this land.

Still, the King of Knights was sure to place herself between the soldiers and her Master.

---

It was too hot here. There was no other way to put it. She'd already put up with her Servant(who seemed mostly awesome at first) deciding it was time to endlessly blame himself, and enter a cycle of self-blame with a blonde, female Servant, who also seemed intent on blaming herself. While she was certain to have summoned an incredible Servant(Lancelot, the Knight of the Lake!) it was undeniable that the self-blame was rather irritating. And now there was the temperature, which was also irritating. Somewhat less irritating was the presence of Honoria, who was a girl she at least knew unlike many of those other people around. And at least the foul-smelling old man hadn't come here. The sunlight would probably have made him reek even more terribly.

"Saber," she began, eyes resting on the ridiculous choice of weapon her Servant had made. A ladle? Really? Even if it had become a Noble Phantasm due to Lancelot's abilities... "You couldn't have at least picked something a little more effective? With an edge maybe?"

She sighed. Those soldiers all looked like they were nervous and jittery. Hmph, they'd be idiots if they attacked right now... Inexplicably female King Arthur seemed to have taken the first step in attempting to make them step aside. Ichineko, currently in her humanoid form, stood behind her, ready to fight at a moment's notice if things went wrong.

---

Stay close? Of course! But... for now, they had to get going, didn't they?

Faust quickly realized that the place in which they had arrived truly required them to stay close. It was so dark! If not for the weird blue fire it'd be the darkest dark ever to dark! Caster clutched Gretchen close to her chest, looking around somewhat nervously. It was a good thing she'd managed to do most of the work, she didn't like this place at all... It wasn't long, however, before they spotted something. Well, something other then dead bodies... Two powerful figures, a man and a woman, clashing in combat. The man called to them, said that something was wrong with the corpses, that they were... tainted?

Well, Caster didn't want to touch the corpses anyway! That would be sad and weird... She didn't know any of them anyway it'd be really impolite wouldn't it it wasn't like they were something super cute where she just had to hug it they were dead bodies! ... Ah, she almost got distracted from wrapping up her summoning! ... Those bodies were starting to move though, weren't they...

"... Those are the Dead," Faust said, more urgently then usual, "Gretchen can tell too! They're going to come back to life and try and surround us and bite us and it'll be gross but they're not too tough so don't worry I've got a new friend coming!"

The small girl took a deep breath, squaring up her feet as she did. A more complex demon required a little more focus... A light grey circle of prana formed in her palm.

"Ah, desire, blood, bone, come to me! Heed my words! I call for your services, for your loyal aid in destroying my enemies. Your flesh is my canvas to form as I will. I grant you a body, and you grant me your servitude! Come to me, o mighty demon...!"

Prana swiftly gathered, forming a body that began to emerge from the circle. She had spent much of her time since having a meal conjuring her new friend, and giving them a form. What better shape for her first new friend then a butler?

And indeed, that was what emerged. A graceful female butler, but her nature was that of a demon. A creature of desires, given form and flesh by Caster's magecraft.

"Edeltaud!" Caster called to her creation, at once naming her and getting her attention, "Smash the corpses! Smash as many as you can! They're all bad guys who are going to come back and try and get us!"

The butler's attention returned to the bodies, and she nodded. "Yes, Mistress!"

With a burst of speed, beyond a human's capabilities, she was on one twitching body in a second. Raising her leg up, she brought her heel down as hard as she could, and the body's skull exploded into a shower of blood, bone, and flesh. Twisting gracefully, her hand neatly severed another corpse's head from its neck.

Richard Montag - Babylonia

It struck Richard that he was about to receive a first hand account of a sorcery long thought impossible to achieve by the works of modern man, and here he was without the means to perceive or record what transpired with any more definition than the human eye offered. The thought occurred to him that he could endeavor to reinforce his ocular nerves, but just as quickly as it was thought he discarded the idea. Mysteries within mysteries was hardly a good idea when one didn't have the first inkling of an idea who this means of conveyance worked, and even if their was no risk involved, the mechanisms behind this were not likely to be the kind one perceives through the spectrum of light alone.

I suppose none of this amounts to anything if we don't succeed in our endeavors. Even Sorcery amounts to nil if no one is left to fathom its depths. The smartly dressed magi thought in a bemused fashion and followed in the footsteps of Keisuke to cross the threshold of time and space to land upon the sun kissed soil of a bygone era. He quickly removed his glasses as a bevy of sensory data assailed him.

It was as though stepping into an alien world, distinct from what they had just departed and hitting them with all the suddenness of escaping the summer heat by stepping into an air conditioned room. On a physical level there was an indescribable crispness to the air around them, undiluted from years of industrialization and filling Richard's lungs with each joyous breath. This didn't even begin to touch upon the prana radiating from the earth and buzzing about them in a wild abundance, a veritable bounty upon the world that was likely common place during the Age of Gods.

"Now if only we hadn't landed in such troubled times."

Donning his spectacles once more, Richard adjusted his gaze to take in the more immediate and physical details of their environment, finding they were confronted by the mundane and mystical in equal measure. Spearmen where something of a concern if he didn't keep his wits about him, as any Lancer would be quick to attest to their effectiveness in the hands of both peasant and hero alike. Luckily for the inhabitants, the time displaced magi and Servants had their eyes set for the temple mount and not invasion, or things could have been dicey.

"A-" He began to call for his servant only to let the word die on the tip of his tongue with the realization that calling out for an 'Assassin' while surrounded by paranoid soldiers could only spell disaster. Take up position two steps back and to the left of Keisuke, Richard followed suit in the pilgrimage to the ziggurats bowels whilst throwing his Servant a side long glance. "Partner, I'd rather we not leave a trail of deceased persons in our wake only to be greeted by an army when we endeavor to leave, so let's do as we do best and keep things...civil."

@GreenGoat @PKMNB0Y

---

Tamamo No Mae - Scandinavia

The vulpine servant had expected to come upon a miserable land, and her expectations were quickly surpassed by the macabre battlefield they settled upon. Were her master not snugly ensconced against her tail and a proud native of the Baltic regions, she may have considered making some sign of her displeasure with the local.

She'd been within moments of offering to burn the many corpses littered around their feet to spare her beloved the sight of them when Seyrun directed her to demonstrate the greatness of her Master's Servant by rescuing the local hero from his perilous tryst with a possible Valkyrie. This was not the situation Tamamo had expected to be thrust upon her, but the Caster would be damned if she disappointed Seyrun straight from the get go.

"I'm deeply touched by your concern for me, Master, but I will not be felled so easily. If Yomi could not part me from your embrace, what hope does this Valkyrie have against us!?" Wisdom dictated that sending one of the knight's in to aid the swordsman would have been the wiser choice, though Tamamo was not one to be constrained by the logic of lesser Masters, like those who cowered behind their knight while spewing fire with reckless abandon. Nor was she the type to be usurped by a child's drawing made manifest, no matter how flawless the butler's form may have been.

Without need for incantation, the Aspect of the Sun Goddess molded her prana into a trio of rectangular slips of paper fanned outwards within the palm of her hand. These ofuda glowed with a dark scarlet aura which smoldered with an intensity befitting the labors of a Caster's magecraft.

"Sir Swordsman, my Master has declared you to be in the right at this hour, so brace yourself for my divine intervention and don't waste this generous opportunity!"

Tamamo took a step forward, her platform sandals coincidentally smashing the head of one of the stubborn deceased in a manner none too dissimilar to the butler's opening strike, and through the trio of magically charged paper to aid the swordsman. Her aim was unerring and beyond repute, sending them exactly wear Caster wished them to go.

The ground five feet behind Lancer, where they blossomed outwards in a marvelous display of fire and force to throw the Valkyrie forward onto the swordsman expectant sword.

Hopefully.

@KoL @ADamnFiddle@Nanashi Ninanai

---

Margarita Reynard - Scandinavia

"Edaltaud. What a marvelous creation, Faust."

Margarita spoke, terse but honest in her praise of Caster's creation. What weariness she may have possessed in regards to the act of summoning demons was dispelled upon finding a dapper butler where she had envisioned a towering grotesque beast of scales, horns, and rippling muscle. Add to the fact they were presently surrounded by the Dead, a sadly common occurrence in her line of work, and there really wasn't any time for doubts.

The seasoned Enforcer drew out her muskets from beneath her traveling cloak, feeling a solid sense of surety wash over her as both barrels thrummed with collected prana. It was always something of a guilty pleasure to hear others in the business criticize such an ignoble choice of armament while they banded around their enchanted rings and assorted jewelry. They offered such little space to weave the magecraft and engrave runes, as opposed to the long barrel of a firearm whose insides could be blanketed in finely woven mysteries with greater density.

"Careful with your fire. The Dead may be burn, but it is not an instantaneous demise. If they grab you, you will surely burn along with them!" Margarita barked, not in the least bit interested to be caught in such a rancid conflagration. Seeing one of their number was shaken already- A state she wouldn't readily criticize given these were extraordinary circumstances- she left the corpses in her immediate area to the demon butler while she raised Fox & Hound at those around Walgrave. A firm squeeze of both triggers sent gray orbs of condensed Ether hurtling from the barrels and through the heads of the corpses closest to him.

His Servant likely would have sufficed in this matter, but assuaging the nerves of others would do well to keeping the group stable.

@VitaVitaAR @Beloss

---

The last few hours felt like a blur inside of Murdoch's mind. A mental block? He wasn't really sure. Perhaps it's just due to him choosing to drink a bit too much alcohol back in that dinner. Or perhaps the dimension shift was a lot more taxing to his mind than it should be. Something still seemed to be a bit off, but for now Murdoch decided to watch things closely to get a better grasp of the situation.

It seemed that they were now in a battlefield, wreathed in unnatural blue flames all around. Bodies of slain warriors were scattered around the mostly lifeless landscape, which made the two remaining combatants even more noticeable. A woman clad in armor wielding a spear easily larger than she was, and she was fighting a warrior with a glowing chest. An interesting sight, but for the time being Murdoch was not sure about whether he should interfere in any way or not.

"Travelers or whatever you are, be careful! Those corpses have been tainted by--!"

Now that the swordsman mentioned it, Murdoch noticed that the spearwoman had something odd going on with her. Her blackened armor on several parts of her body caused some concerns, and perhaps that blackness was what caused her to attack the woman. Corruption like that...interacting with the corpses would seem to cause similar symptoms to the spearwoman, or worse, the corpses could be reanimated by whoever spread this corruption in the first place. Was this corruption the cause of why this point of history became a Singularity?

He was ill-equipped to deal with them, sadly. Unlike the elderly magus that moved really fast to incinerate the bodies, he chose to rush towards his Servant's side, at least to make sure that he didn't do something reckless or dangerous. Well...at least he was not doing something too dangerous now. Although reaching out to either combatant at this point of the time felt pointless. With the assumption that the spearwoman really was corrupted by something, telling them to cease would do as much good as telling a rock to get out of your way.

"Would be neat if that just happens, but alas, it's unreasonable."

Other issues would present itself to Murdoch however. The bodies that littered the battlefield rose back to "life", and they seemed to be the primary obstacle here. However...that brought a point. The identity of the maiden of spear. Murdoch knew his share of legends from the Nordic people, and he was pretty intent on summoning one of their greatest heroes too originally. Of course he would knew about these maidens that were connected to those who had fallen on the battlefields, the Valkyries. In opposition of such beings from the very beginning, that sounded quite exhilarating. Ah, sweet maidens of the battlefield!

"Uh..where was I? Right. Berserker, avoid the Saber and Lancer-class entity there, and deal with the undead first. A great hero like you should be able to shine brightly against these nameless soldiers."

Sinfjotli...it perhaps was a mistake to bring him to his homeland, although not bringing him here would really just strain the two's relationship and he didn't really want to touch Babylon either. For now he would just have to hope that the group would not end up stumbling upon anyone closely related to him.

Splitting from his Servant, Murdoch went on to grab a branch lying on the ground, and utilized Reinforcement to bring out the blueprints of the ancient weapon stored in his magic crest. The spear manifested into the world, and Murdoch went on to prepare himself for any attackers that came close. Dealing with groups of enemy wasn't his specialty in any means, and with the presence of the other mages and the fact that there were 3 Casters around...why would he be concerned about it? He's no coward but there's no reason to expend more energy than necessary right now. He still needed to get enough room to grab a piece of armor or weapon from these undeads and use his Structural Grasp Magecraft on it to learn about whether there's any magic affecting them anyway.

---

Dr. Jekyll

---

@Lonewolf685

It was intriguing how much power one man could possess, even if he senses that Zelretch was more than he looks.

Once in through the portal however, they were accosted by the local militia. Not really unexpected, considering they, to the eyes of the local, would have appeared out of thin air, wearing garbs foreign to both their location and time. Jekyll slipped a hand into his pocket, feeling the knife, ready should any of them start attacking him or his Master. In this form he wasn't as strong as the other servants, but he was still a match for any normal humans around.

"What are you doing, Jekyll? Let me out and I'll make short work of them all!"

He closed his eyes for a moment, ignoring Hyde, before a ziggurat blew up in the distance, a large beam of light stretching up into the sky. Convenient. It certainly took attention from them. Plus, it was also their first hint of what needed to be fixed in this part of history.

"Partner, I'd rather we not leave a trail of deceased persons in our wake only to be greeted by an army when we endeavor to leave, so let's do as we do best and keep things...civil."

"I agree Ma- Richard," Jekyll replied. "Tis' best to keep ourselves from the spotlight. Any undue attention is sure to make our work here that much harder."

Without a word more, he followed his Master, keeping a wary eye out for ambushes along the way.

---

Victoria & Scathach

She didn't bother to hide her look of wonderment and excitement as Zelretch started the ritual. After all, it wasn't every day that one gets to see the grand master of magic himself doing magecraft right in front of them.

Actually stepping into a portal and into what seemed like a strange burning land of the dead was strangely exhilarating as well. The warriors that fought before her must be some great heroes of the past, judging from how they clashed with each other. One of them, the person with a glowing sigil upon his chest, noticed them, and shouted out a warning.

"Travelers or whatever you are, be careful! Those corpses have been tainted by--!"

Almost immediately, all hell broke loose. The dead rose and started attacking, some Masters sent out their Servants to attack, and one even called up fire to consume the dead, though it was not an instantaneous kill. Seeing other magus casting and doing their own unique things was enough to make her falter slightly. Victoria was not one for wallowing in self pity however; she simply shrugged off that feeling and activated her own circuits.

"Full count, Magic Circuit!" She slammed her gloved fists together, her reinforced clothing and body obvious to most magus looking at her. "Now, its time for-"

"Wait Master." Scathach stopped Victoria before she could bolt right into the walking dead. Without missing a beat, she speared a stray undead that managed to get close to them before continuing. "Having everyone focused on the enemy in front may leave us disadvantaged should there be any more surprise. They can handle a simple horde of undead, and that Servant as well."

"Ah! I see. If everyone rushes to attack what was in front of them, they'd miss what was behind them!" Taking her Servant's words to heart, Victoria reinforced her eyes and started looking around for any more danger. That smell sure was distracting though, and she was very sure it wasn't coming from the dead.

“”Babylonian diplomacy”, you say?” Lancer smirked at the comment by his Master. From his appearance, despite being a rather “pretty boy” in regards to his physique compared to some other heroes of similar feats, Lancer was not the sort of person to “talk” things out. If anything, he felt it was more interesting to learn from fighting another rather than through banter.

That isn’t to say that Lancer didn’t enjoy the casual conversation. In retrospect he was the sort to take up his arms against any and all enemies, but so long as he didn’t harbor some sort of grudge against his foes, he didn’t mind speaking to them casually. There are friends that are your enemies and allies that are your foes, after all.

With a sigh, as if he was thinking how his Master didn’t understand the situation he was in.

“I ain’t the “diplomacy” sorta guy, Master. Like I told ya, we're Servants; only diplomacy I know is at the end of a spear, so I think it might be best for that little girl over there to be our ambassador. Not ‘cuz I think she’s the best for the job, but because she seems to have already given herself to the task.”

However, if a single one of the soldiers was to attack his Master, there could be hell to pay. Lancer wasn’t the sort to deny others their rightful fights and he had sent many of these young “heroes’ to their graves from challenging him back in Ulster. The question was is if the soldiers of Babylon felt lucky. Cu had defeated an entire advancing army lead by a certain slutty queen through his own willpower and strength, defeating champion after champion that lined up. Each of them falling to his spear.

And it wouldn’t be line these babylonian soldiers could be too much different than the heroes he had felled back in Ireland, no? Lancer was sure he could take on, defensively, an entire battalion of soldiers, though that might just be a bit of an overstatement to his abilities as a hero, he was definitely someone that should be feared on the battlefield.

“So what is it gonna be, Master. Do we pretend to make friends, or do you want me to run them through?”

Ravel Livoria D’Arby

Ravel had arrived in Scandinavia. Though she did not have any sort of true attachment to this place, she had heard that one of her ancestors had come from these lands. However, that was irrelevant as the Magus had no cultural ties to the location.

But what was relevant to Ravel was the fact there were two unidentified Servants before her.

“C-Caster. I shall support you to the best of my abilities. Show me what you can do. Defeat these enemies for me.”

Ravel drew upon her magics. It was rather instantaneous in terms of construction, but in application her magic needed a bit of a “time” to intact However, the combination of the years of her training, one could state that the application of “inserting” into what is otherwise “inanimate”.

Perhaps that is why one could say that based solely on her disciple of magecraft, Ravel was a rather depressing individual. The curses and the living dead tended to be her specialty, though the creation of her version of the “Zombie” was completely different compared to the artificial “life” created by a certain dead apostle ancestor. Simply put, she was able to forcibly enact her will upon the “spirits” trapped outside of the reincarnation cycle and animate them within the confines of dead animals. A simple action.

And instantaneously one had obtained a somewhat more powerful familiar. This magecraft would likely not be an impressive feat had it not been for her other branch of magecraft understanding.

Curses.

The anger of another.

Wrath.

Destruction itself.

The all-encompassing curse must not be taken lightly. Though not nearly to the destructive level of a million curses placed inside of a cup, the festering and eating away of existences could not be taken lightly.

If someone were to enter the radius of the animated dogs she had risen, they would be hit with a curse that was the encompassing knowledge of the D’Arby family. It may not be much to a Servant-level individual, but it was the best she could do to support her Servant in combat. Though considering her Servant was also a Magus, though more powerful than herself, she would likely also be taking a supportive role in the conflict.

Unless she had a trick up her sleeves . . .

True to the predictions of the arriving Masters and Servants, the corpses scattered throughout the area slowly dragged themselves towards the group, but were soon met with their fate to fall once more in battle. But while the dead slowly moved towards the group like moths to a flame, the battle raging further off in the distance seemed to be reaching its finale. Neither seemed to care much for Sinfjotli's claims, though, especially by the Lancer who continued to thrust and parry as if she had heard nothing at all.

The blast from Tamamo was wholly unexpected by the female Spirit, who had moved to guard against what she expected to be a blow directed at her. The resulting explosion tossed her to the side, at which point the male Servant moved to cut her down. There was a moment of pause as the blade swung down, but the female barely managed to parry the weapon as she now lay on her back. The exchange of blades carried on for only a few more seconds before the Lancer forced the swordsman's blade away and rolled to the side before flying off. There was an intense gaze directed at him and no one else, but she soon disappeared into the night, past the blue flames that continued to eerily waver around them.

"...I thank you for your aid," the swordsman said, climbing to his feet as he looked at the ever-thinning horde of undead around them. "I know not of who you are or where you come from, but your appearance may as well have saved my life. I am Siegfried, under the class of Saber. We may speak more once this problem has been dealt with, though; your words are not lost on me. There is a town further ahead that may lend us well; sadly, the inhabitants are all but gone, but that may prove better for us in our current state of affairs."

With a slight nod towards Sinfjotli, Siegfried brandished his blade at the oncoming undead and took a deep breath.

"...May you rest in peace once more..." he sighed as he swung his sword, bisecting a group of three zombies as they shambled close to him.

Meanwhile, closer to the other half of the group, an older man was walking closer. As he carefully dodged around the zombies nearby, the blue flames gave vision of his face to the others--Victoria and Scathach in particular, who were guarding from any assaults from the rear.

"Wonderful! Simply wonderful! Though brought to this land for naught but chaos, I have thus glimpsed the beginning of a grand saga!" he said enthusiastically, continuing to write on a piece of paper as he drew closer to the group. "Oh, yes, where are my manners? My name is William Shakespeare, summoned here under the class Caster. I care not to participate in this conflict, but I would like if you young men and women would allow me to follow along for this journey of false love and tragedy.
Am I incorrect?"

With a smile, Shakespeare spun his quill pen around before realizing that he had accidentally drawn a rather large group of undead towards those he was moving to meet. Unfortunate.

"Oh, this won't do at all--I wish to be a spectator, not a participant! Mayhaps you could help deal with this issue, for your sake as well as mine?"

@VitaVitaAR@Lonewolf685@GreenGoat@Nanashi Ninanai@ADamnFiddle@KoL@Beloss

---

The sudden change in temperature cause Kintoki to subconsciously fan himself as he walked through the portal, half-marveling at the grandeur of the magic just presented to them. It was seriously like something out of a story, and he loved cool stories like this one.

The group of cautious soldiers, on the other hand, weren't quite as pleased. To be fair, they did just drop in unannounced, and if he was in their shoes he probably would've done something similar. But the explosion that shook the place up caused them to look a lot less confident about stopping them.

Svetleaze's order to break through solved the problem of 'choice' soon enough, and Kintoki nodded as he cracked his knuckles. The sparks of electricity flying out of his body dissuaded a few more soldiers than he might have otherwise, which was good; the less people he had to hurt now, the better. And these guys didn't look bad; they were just doing their job, right?

"Understood, Master! Time to break through!"

With a hearty shout, Kintoki began to barrel through the crowd and up the stairs of the ziggurat, knocking any soldiers attempting to get in their way to the side. It was, admittedly, pretty hard controlling his strength, but all he needed to do was send them off-balance for long enough for him to get to the top.


"Remain on guard, Atalanta, but do not shoot to kill. Unless anyone tries to attack us directly, just provide us with suppressive fire."

The simple line of thought was all Keisuke gave before noticing that the golden Berserker had begun rushing through the soldiers like an American football player. He had to hand it to the Servant; the simple-mindedness of his actions could be pretty useful in the near future, provided that the Einzbern could drill a bit more strategy into his head. But now wasn't the time to count blessings; now was the time to follow.

"Once everyone's inside, come follow after us. I'm getting an ominous vibe and would prefer to have my Servant at my side. Don't try anything too rash," he messaged Atalanta as he made his way through the group of soldiers, most of whom opted to not try and attack given how the giant armorless man was plowing through them like a beast over open plains.

As the group neared the top of the stairs, the sounds of panicked shouting and screaming became clearer to pick up on. Within the ziggurat, though, there was absolute chaos.

In the middle of the grand room they were led into by the hallway, there stood three figures-- one all too familiar to Arturia and Lancelot, one with green hair who seemed to be trying to calm him down, and one standing off to the side interrogating an informant. The first stood in front of a king who had seemingly just passed while sitting upon the throne, his eyes glaring at the corpse with irritation.

"What a useless ruler! To let my grand city of Uruk fall to such a state!" he fumed, picking up the corpse and tossing it off the the side. "You do not deserve the title that I, Gilgamesh, have passed on!"

"Gilgamesh, I think you should calm down a little. Rather than toss about in anger, shouldn't we go check how the people of Uruk are doing right now? If we can allay the fears of the people--"

"Enkidu, my dear friend, what makes you think I can be calm at a time like this? That pathetic 'king' has let Babylonia fall to ruin, the nation is surrounded on all sides with enemies vying for our land, and--"

"We have guests."

At that comment, Gilgamesh turned around, only to notice the rather large coalition of Masters and Servants watching his rage. Enkidu, too, turned to face them, only to end up with a somewhat-conflicted expression as they glanced between Gilgamesh and the group. It took a few moments for Gilgamesh to notice the presence of Arturia, though, at which point Enkidu almost instinctively grabbed his shoulder to hold him back.

"...Fine," Gilgamesh ceded, glaring at the group as he drew a single weapon from his Gate of Babylon. "I will permit you to explain your presence here in front of the King of Heroes. Should you prove yourselves enemies of my kingdom, I will cut you all down where you stand. I have no time to play around with you today."

At this comment, the insignia that Keisuke had stashed away began to beep, and from it came Kirei's voice.

"The King of Heroes, Gilgamesh... To think he would be here, of all places... In any case, choose your words carefully, or that threat of his will truly become a reality."

@VitaVitaAR@Raineh Daze@Lonewolf685@GreenGoat@ADamnFiddle@KoL@Beloss

---

"Animated canines? They are indeed quite useful, though not to my tastes."

Caster's observant eyes saw through the mirror covering her face, carefully judging the condition of the battlefield she and her Master had been thrust in. The Saber and Lancer in the distance were not something she was going to bother herself with, not with Tamamo and others dealing with them too. The zombies seemed to end up merely as dummies for her allies to show off. For the most part, she was more interested in Ravel's performance herself. Her animated beasts had also been enhanced by her own brand of curses, and seeing them taking effect on the zombies entering the radius was quite amusing, despite Caster not exactly being a fan of the method she used, which she find to be quite rough. Even then, she acknowledged that her potential was vast, and Caster was quite glad that Ravel was not an absolute novice. The only thing that remained as her concern was whether Ravel truly had the mindset to follow her teaching.

But, that would be something she'd keep for later. For now, it would be a little bit shameful if she didn't actually show some of what she's capable of. The ring of blue light on her sun-like mirror's back turned red as she performed several gestures with her left hand - the ornament on that hand of hers soon followed to turn red. Not even the strongest magus could bring the dead back to life, and she wasn't able to do it either. However, utilizing her demonic magic, the lingering will of the dead could still be bound into the earth. Her mirror, being a treasure from the land of the dead, acted as the sole catalyst necessary to perform the act. Incantation is no longer necessary.

She didn't invoke her Noble Phantasm directly, and simply used it as a catalyst to connect herself with the land of the dead. Once she finished her motion, shades of white suddenly appeared on the battlefield. Revealing themselves as wraiths born from the remnants of the dead warriors, they let out a wail and started to spread out to attack the opposing zombies. Each strikes brought decay and rot, and even the undead would be cursed - their body succumbing to atrophy as the wraiths tore them apart.

In the middle of enjoying herself as she continued to raise the dead to do her bidding, someone's appearance broke her concentration momentarily. An older man with impressive facial hair and not-so-trustworthy visage had appeared, and he seemed to be quite the showy person. Yet another Caster with the name of William Shakespeare, his attitude reminded Caster of court bards and playwrights rather than actual magus. It was somewhat irritating - Caster was definitely having a bad compatibility with those type of people. He was seemingly intent of writing something with that quill of his, but a horde of zombies then somehow decided to stand between him and Caster and her allies, yet those seemingly was more intent to attack her group rather than attacking the lone old man. Suspicious.

With her concentration being broken due to the man's sudden appearance, Caster couldn't be bothered to do the whole small rite again to invite the wraiths here again. After making a mental note to interrogate the man once she was done, she recited a short purification incantation to change the light of her ornaments into blue again, cleansing her of the demonic magic. Another short incantation, and six golden disks made of light appeared around her. Channeling bits of the power from the Sun Goddess into the disks with a short prayer, she set them off towards the zombies. Pillars of solar fire emerged from each disks, incinerating the zombies one by one as those disks traveled around them as Caster ordered them to. Using two contradicting brand of magic in such a short time took a bit of a toll on Caster, and her breathing started to be somewhat ragged. Her wraiths slowly dissipated in the distance, as the mirror stopped its function as their catalyst. Getting close to Ravel again, Caster finally decided to comment on her Master's usage of curses.

"Is this the form of western curses? In that case keep doing what you do. I don't necessarily like your method, but with curses, no matter how much you dislike a method, or how you find the method deplorable, if it works, then it's worth pursuing. By pursuing the art of curses in the first place, you should have thrown away any hesitation and reservation."

---

Caster stayed close to her Master, just in case she had to help in some other way, but her eyes were mostly on Edeltaud. Her skillset as a magus did not allow for much in the way of personal offensive capabilities, and most of her magecraft could only be utilized in a fashion that could be referred to as utility. Instead, she fought via the use of her summoned demons. In some cases she could even use them as projectiles and shields, though the later was a rather guilt-inducing outcome. Summoning a demon only to use it to weave a barrier was just cruel! They were her friends, after all!

So, for the moment, Caster started to pump her fist in the air, hoping to cheer on her summoned creation as she tore through the undead.

Speaking of which, Edeltaud was making quite the effort of it. As the Dead made it to their feet, one barely had time to let out a grow before a particularly forceful axe kick split its body down the middle from head to grow in a shower of blood. The demon butler's heel slammed into the ground and left a crater, as she almost immediately spun and used the side of her right hand to split another of the Dead in half at the waist, a followup blow causing its skull to explode before the upper half hit the ground. Yet another of the reanimated corpses was hit with a sharp open-palm blow to the chest, causing it body to fly backwards and bowl two of its brethren over and for its back to burst open from the force.

Edeltaud straightened, and flicked her wrist to shake the blood from her glove.

"I won't cease to fight until my Mistress is satisfied," she commented, simply, turning on her heal to kick through another of the Dead's skulls.

"Go Edeltaud! Go Edeltaud!" Faust cheered, one arm wrapped around Gretchen and the other pumping her fist in the air, "Smash them all up and we'll have loooots of cake! Lots and lots and lots and lots! Ice cream too I wanna try ice cream!"

It seemed that she would have to be more careful in phrasing her orders in the future... not that she particularly cared about the soldiers being swatted away like flies in this case. Having Kintoki interpret her entirely too literally in the future would cause no end of headaches. Even this, which achieved the nice and simple objective of clearing a path, left an undeniable flaw in having to keep on her Servant's heels.

Not that this was beyond one such as herself, especially when the mass of bodies slowed Berserker down a little. No, the speed and effort required was fine...

Svetleaze was simply dressed entirely wrong for the scorching heat. A hot coat was grand for the snowy landscape the Einzbern claimed as their own or the middle of an ocean. It would have been perfect for the alternative destination. Babylon, though, a mostly arid land and nowhere near some of the mountains that might have brought relief? It was the wrong place to have come with a coat. A coat that she obviously couldn't afford to remove, lest some enterprising Master get the wrong idea and go for a fatal shot. Something would need to be added to the thing to prevent her from overheating. Soon.

Panting in the sweltering heat left the Einzbern as a naturally poor choice to convey any sort of major information to the King of Heroes.

---

It was too hot to run. That and, had she intended to do any running around, the magus would have chosen to wear something more practical for that than an elaborate dress. Besides, who thought that running around with your hands full of something as fragile as a guitar was a good thing? Anybody? No, she didn't think so.

Of course, climbing the stairs normally when everyone had been scattered like bowling pins was easy. It got even easier when you factored in how even very simple magecraft could dissuade most people from immediately approaching you--just keep them distracted with helping their friends. Keep repeating the same simple strain...

It was no wonder that the musician was the last one to actually reach the peak.

---

Lancelot responded to Berserker's rush by taking his small Master under one arm and following, staying generally off to the side. It wasn't quite as safe as following right behind him, but it left his friend hand to deflect and disarm the stunned soldiers that might otherwise have pushed back towards the opened path once again--dropping the ladle towards the zenith and taking one of the disarmed spears instead.

It would have been a reassurance for his Master that the knight wasn't completely out of his mind by choosing to use cutlery as a weapon but she was probably more upset about being carried up the stairs like a sack of turnips.

The three Servants at the top of the Ziggurat put him on guard immediately. Yumi was stuck squarely behind the knight's voluminous cape as he viewed the King of Heroes with all the guarded suspicion that such a man warranted--the green haired... something that stood beside him too, as from his recollections of the war, the golden one had never shown anyone that sort of respect. Nor had he ever been addressed by name.

If he were to capitalise on his threat, it would be even more difficult to deal with him now: though he could compensate for his reduced speed by actually being aware of his surroundings and able to actively think ahead, their Masters were left with nowhere to shelter in such a confrontation. The top of a structure as this would make for a dangerously exposed place to fight. They would have to negotiate with Gilgamesh and hope that it avoided escalating into a fight.

"This world is but one that has been forced into an incorrect historical path. From the explanation we have received, the root of this problem stems from another false grail. If it carries the same corruption as the Fuyuki Grail, then its actions in summoning Servants and altering history can only be malicious in origin," the purple-haired knight explained, far too familiar with that blackness. The Great Grail was a terrible thing, "If unchecked, this singularity will have catastrophic effects. Even the very history we remember and that remembers us could be unmade, King of Heroes."

Saber would have charged more swiftly ahead the moment Berserker opened the way by quite straightforwardly bowling over all the guards without seriously injuring them. However, her Master seemed to struggle on the way up the stairs, and so Saber remained with her in order to ensure no harm came to her. As a result, she arrived at the top only shortly before Honoria did, by a matter of scant moments. What she saw when she arrived, however...

The blonde girl immediately stood at the ready. There was no mistaking that voice, that golden visage that stood before her. Last time she had seen that man, he had been standing just before... it. The grail. Just before... Saber shook her head to dispel that thought. She had to. There was no way she couldn't hold herself at the ready in the face of the King of Heroes. He was accompanied by an individual whom Saber could not determine the gender thereof, and a woman with dark hair. But her mind was focused on countering Gilgamesh if he chose to attack. To get in close as possible as quickly as possible. It was the only choice of action that felt right.

However, Lancelot had begun to attempt to explain the situation. Corrupted? He described Fuyuki's Grail as corrupted...? Was that... Saber shook her head again. She could... attempt to discern what he meant later, for now... As much as she was wary of Gilgamesh, she could assume that their fight was not with him.

But did he agree?

---

Yumi was hardly expecting to suddenly be picked up like a toy. Her initial reaction was to kick her feet and yell, leaving a bewildered Ichineko behind.

"I-I'm not just a... a... d-don't just pick me up!" she cried, squirming under her Servant's arm. But before she knew it, they had already reached the top of the ziggurat, and Lancelot had swapped the ridiculous ladle for a spear somewhere in that period of time, before swiftly placing her behind himself. Ichineko hurried after them, arriving behind Yumi... and looking rather amused at her Master's distress. Yumi shot the familiar a look before turning her attention forward.

Her Servant was attempting to negotiate with... Gilgamesh? The King of Uruk? There was no mistaking that name, however. She'd never heard of anyone else called that, and he certainly looked like some sort of king. The others were more difficult to put a name to. An... individual, and a dark-haired woman.

Gilgamesh would be an exceptionally powerful Servant, of course... which meant everyone had to be on guard and avoid doing anything stupid.

"... Don't pick me up without warning again," Yumi couldn't help but complain, however, folding her arms as she peered around her Servant.

Victoria & Scathach

The others was... well, simply put, they had magecraft far beyond her mastery. The dead proved to be nothing more than just a nuisance for most of them, especially with their Servants around. Victoria's reinforced eyes picked up the Caster as he moved into range, spewing lines she could barely understand. He looked rather perplexed as the dead closed around him.

"Oh, this won't do at all--I wish to be a spectator, not a participant! Mayhaps you could help deal with this issue, for your sake as well as mine?"

"Master, I su-"

"Alright! Dead zombies coming right up!" Victoria wasted no time in flying to the newcomer's aid, kicking a zombie straight into a crowd of its kin. There wasn't much to say after all. For her, if someone needs to be saved, then she would save them gladly. If it wasn't impossible for her to do of course.

Her moves, her strength, her every strike, with her body reinforced, was beyond human. The impact of each blow upon the dead tore them apart. However, Victoria had barely any combat experience, nor proper hand to hand training thus a fatal mistake was never too far away. Striking only a glancing blow, instead of a solid strike on a zombie, it reared its ugly head back and would have torn her neck, if not for that blood red spear flashing out, and taking its head. Scathach moved with precision and power, her experience with the dead showing as she tore through most of them around William Shakespeare without missing a beat.

"W-whoah," was all she could utter at the sight of her own Servant's performance. Regaining her confidence, she strode back into the thick of it with her Servant, trying to mimic her footwork. "Just wait there, Mr. Shakespeare. We'll clear this out in no time."

@Lonewolf685 @Flamelord

---

Walgrave took another step back from the rising bodies at his feet, the flames in his hand growing hotter, when, in flash of grey and silver, the Dead before him were cut down in an instant.

"I am here, my Lord. There is foul sorcery at work here."

Rider had responded to his call immediately, and for a second something suspiciously like relief flickered inside him. He had never commanded a familiar with such a swift response to his wishes before, much less an ally.

Even now Rider followed up by cutting down the next few bodies in the blink of an eye and rounding on the rest.

There was a sudden crack of gunshot, and the skulls of two more nearby rising corpses exploded, making him flinch. The palm full of fire in his hand guttered dangerously, and he looked over to see who had taken the shot.

A few yards away the supremely elegant Master of the strange child Servant was holding two heavily ensorceled muskets and shouting instructions to him. If his Servants aid had been an encouragement, the input of the other Magi was enough to stir the few remaining shreds of his long forgotten martial pride.

"Dont c-concern yourself with me!" He barked back at the well dressed marksman. Thirty years ago he would never have frozen up like he had, and that she had noticed his mistake irritated him.

He waved his hand, sending a stream of fire to engulf a distant clump of the shambling corpses. They ignored the flames for a moment, the heat doing nothing to stop their progress, but then, with a short tugging motion, like a puppeteer yanking on his string, Walgrave increased the pressure of his flames, throwing the clumsy Dead to their knees and sending them flying back, like embers from a fire that's been kicked.

"My mysteries don't..hrrrrn, leave mere vampire offal on their feet!" He let out a dry cackle, looking for another cluster of the Dead to annihilate, but held off when he saw that the swarm was already falling to pieces all around him.

On every side there were wonders. Servants were moving with impossible speed, scything down the Dead like wheat. The other Magi were showing forth their own efforts, adding to the tally. Muskets fired, a Magi reinforcing to a truly impressive degree battled the undead with her bare hands, while familiar hounds spat curses at all targets who came near. To the rear of them some kind of bizarre demonic butler was tearing the Dead limb from limb while the strange Child Servant cheered wildly. Everywhere a host of spirits rose from the earth and set about attacking the very animate bodies they had once belonged to.

It was a total massacre, and after standing in its epicenter for a few more moments Walgrave let the flames in his hands die down.

As the last of the Dead fell, he turned his attention to the mysterious Swordsman as the dark Lancer fled away into the night. Siegfried he called himself. As little attention as he payed the world beyond his studies, the name was not lost on him. The grand hero of Germany was offering them aid, an explanation, not to mention shelter. But here was Servant that had slain a Dragon. It would undoubtedly be a terrible battle if it came to fighting him.

Walgrave eyed him carefully, studying the waves of fierce prana that baked off the Servants supposedly invincible skin. He sent a quick telepathic communication to his own Servant in the meantime.

"What do you make of him Rider? I don't know Wagner well enough to remember the specifics of this one's temperament. Is he someone who we can deal with?"

Siegfried had hardly finished talking however, when another Servant approached, and...

Well.

He fell into a fit of coughing as William Shakespeare made his introduction. Walgrave was suddenly quite sure that he had never had a more surprising day in his entire life, even by the standards of his somewhat dimmed capacity for surprise.

Perhaps it was just the straw that broke his ageing mental back, but he found he was unable to muster even a slight interest in the freshly approaching zombie army. Hundreds of painful childhood hours spent under the watch of a sadistic victorian era teacher, determined that he memorize as much of the Poets works as humanly possible, suddenly rushed down upon him, thundering through his brain with a greater intensity than any Magecraft Aria.

It all came back to him now. The nightmare of his youth, perhaps the very root of his dark path of slow mind rotting alchemy.

What dost thou know me for?

What dost thou know me for indeed.

A knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats; a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a lily-livered, action-taking knave, a whoreson, glass-gazing, super-serviceable finical rogue; one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar, and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch!

Every fiber of his being wanted nothing more than to lift his finger and scream at the top of his lungs, RIDER! KILL HIM! KILL THAT MAN! STOP HIM, DESTROY THIS MAD BRUTE!

Instead He found himself muttering some feeble words to his Servant concerning the butchery of the oncoming horde of Dead. Aside from this simple directive, all that could be got from his for the next few minutes was a disjointed muttering of "Shakespeare... I see, well... ah,... yes. Shakespeare is here... heh. heh heh heh... yes, I see..."

---

@Nanashi Ninanai

---

Sinfjotli had begrudgingly turned from the two dueling Heroes at his Master's command, and also when it became apparent that neither of them were about to drop their weapons for him. How irritating. Then again, as he turned back towards his own party to help cut down the rising Draugr, he could not help but reflect on the less than impressive state of his warband. It seemed that none of the great Heroes he had picked out of the original muster had deined to follow him here, save only for the Noble bearded Rider who had come late to the contest.

Apart from that, most present were women. One of them was a withered old man, to feeble looking to survive the next few hours out here, to say nothing of a campaign! And not a few yards away from him was a Servant who was nothing more than a child! What a pitiful gathering! Closer to a witches coven than an assembly of heroes! What had the gods saddled him with!?

Cursing in frustration he brandished his gilded spear and destroyed every shambling corpse warrior around him in an instant. He didn't even bother to make individual strikes, but instead swung his spear shaft around him in a great arc, smashing bone and pulping flesh through sheer brute force. Bits of cold corpse flew in every direction, arms and legs and helmed heads falling like hail.

After a few such wide sweeping blows Sinfjotli slowed and stopped, surveying the field with a disgruntled scowl. These were no true draugr, but only feeble puppets of the most pathetic sort. The other Servants and Masters were swiftly butchering them wholesale with sorcery. For the most part it was bizarre magic from faraway lands, though he raised his eyebrow at a very good Ansuz rune which one of the mortal Magi had inscribed.

Altogether it was a feeble battle, and he quickly turned back to the dueling pair, watching as the dark shield maiden fled before the combined swordsmanship of her opponent, and a blast of fire from one of their own party.

It was when the swordsman turned at last to introduce himself however, that Sinfjotli knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the gods were mocking him. Mocking him beyond his worst fears or expectations.

"I am Siegfried" the swordsman said. "under the class of Saber."

The Volsungs it was said, were born with a fearlessness that was the envy of all men, and Sinfjotli in particular was renowned for his dauntless nature even among his other family members. These few words however, were enough to silence him and make him step back. He stared at Siegfried, mouth agape, his spear falling limp in his hand and then fading away. In all the world no other turn of events could have thrown him into such confusion. Had it been Sigurd himself at least, he would have been swift in his response, if not certain in it. Either he would have rushed upon him then and there with sword drawn, or he would have bowed low in begrudging respect.

Here however, was one who was Sigurd, and yet not Sigurd. His brother, but not his brother. The thief of his rightful glory, and yet not.

For once in his life Sinfjotli found himself at a total loss, and could only stare, as meek and helpless for a moment as the strange child Servant who had accompanied him.

---

@ADamnFiddle

---

“So what is it gonna be, Master. Do we pretend to make friends, or do you want me to run them through?”

Pavel ran pell mell up the ziggurat steps, staying as well as he could within the wake that a particular brutish giant of a Servant was plowing through the crowd. It didn't help that his familiar seemed intent on running between his legs and tripping him up as he ran.

Beside him his Servant seemed to be having a much easier time of it.

"Yeah I get it, you're a great hero!" Pavel shouted over his shoulder. ""But I'm not even sure these guys are supposed to be fighting us. Aren't we trying to save their city? Also, what if you cause some kind of time paradox??? What if one of them is your ancestor or something? God damn it! Why didn't anyone explain any of this to me before we left!?"

They came then, into a great temple. Even for someone like Pavel Dumitru it was obvious that he was standing in the presence of an authority comparable to the gods. He froze, every inch of him paralized by the aura of A+ rank Charisma that was coming from the unmistakable King of Heroes.

"Okay... Lancer." He said, switching over to telepathic communication. "I'm going to say we definitely want to pretend to be friends with this fucker."

Richard Montag - Babylonia

It really was no wonder that someone among their party would brute force their way through the situation, and Richard would be the first to admit his surprise at the bloodless efficacy of a charging Berserker up the ziggurats steps. This had left the guards stunned, and rightly so, meaning he was quick to follow behind Keisuke before any of them gathered their wits enough to contemplate barring their path with the business end of their spears the next time. With how close he was to the group's point man, Richard found his path as unbarred as Keisuke and came to a stop before the dethroning of a king whose reign was found wanting.

"This is...well, we can't say this was unexpected in Babylon, can we?" Richard remarked to no one in particular while watching Lancelot of all people make first contact with the unaligned Servants. That they classified the Golden Servant as Gilgamesh left Richard with a strong guess as to who the effeminate man beside him could be if the legend was anything to go by, but the identity of the woman was harder to pin down. Since she lacked any resemblance to the man who imitated a divinely blessed beauty, he had no clue how to entangle her into the Epic of Gilgamesh, so it was in all likelihood she either belonged to the region rather then a tie in to Gilgamesh and Enkidu.

"Assassin, whatever happens here, keep an eye on the woman. I do not wish her to fade from view because we are blinded by gold."

It was unfortunate that there was no chance to discuss the group's course of action, especially when it was quickly made apparent that Lancelot and the priest guiding them had some prior experience with the oldest hero, but they would have to manage without a battle plan on this engagement.

"Pardon me, but if I could add upon the knight's case. We are time displaced magi and Servants with no desire to harm the garden you have cultivated. We have no desire for conquest or plunder, only to right the wrongs that will ruin the world you wrested from the gods and gave onto man. As you have already found, your kingdom is threatened by forces both within," Richard pointedly looked at the corpse Gilgamesh had cast aside, "- and without. If you would allow us to remove the threat of the grail from these lands -perhaps under the super vision of a trusted companion if you would like- then you would be left with ample time to restore the values which made your kingdom prosperous under your reign. Why dirty your hands when the people are in dire need of your wisdom."

@GreenGoat @PKMNB0Y

---

Tamamo No Mae - Scandinavia

"Yata! Master, did you see how she ran from our might? With your prana and my magic, there will be many more fleeing just like that Valkyrie, I would wager."

The vulpine Servant was feeling very good about herself as the enemy ran off into the mists and the rugged knight showered her- As it was clearly directed at her and Seyrun alone for saving him- with praise for saving him from being impaled on Valkyrie's spear. After all, it wasn't like anyone else had lifted a finger to aid him, even if she herself had just ton explosives into the fray. If the others' Masters couldn't stand against simple undead thralls without the aid of their Servants, then this was further proof of the greatness that was her own Master's capability.

"Now you there, Mr. Siegfried!" Tamamo said with finger thrust towards the Saber class, ignorant of the playwright's cries for help since she was the farthest from where he arrived. "Lead us to this village, and explain what has brought the anger of a war bound spirit like that Lancer upon. Was she the one responsible for all of this hideous scenery, or are you a scoundrel who bedeviled her heart and has been saved by our ignorant intervention?"

@KoL

---

Margarita Reynard - Scandinavia

Margarita made no effort to conceal the smirk tugging at her lips upon witnessing Walgrave's startled reaction to her interference. It must have been a wound to his pride that he received the aid of a magus many times his inferior, and that was exactly what the French gunner had been endeavoring to do.

"If certain death isn't a kick in the pants, then an affront to their sensibilities-" Pausing in her speech, Margarita spun on her heel and scooped up the boisterous Faust just as one of the dead made a swipe for where she had stood. In the time it would have taken to mutter an irate 'Marde' for making an attack on her Servant, she carried herself with the momentum and struck it clean across the head with the side of her musket. It was thrown to ground and didn't arise, the shrapnel of its inwardly crushed skull shredding what remained of its skull that didn't turn to pulp outright. "-will just have to do."

"Faust, as proud as you may be in your friend, please keep an eye on the surroundings. If you eaten, then I will have no one to share the ice cream with but all these Dead, and they make very poor dining companions." She lightly chastised the child, unwilling to outright say it was the loudness of her cheering that masked the shambling of that one rotter which had gotten uncomfortably close. Luckily the horde was thinning to non-existence between the strength of everyone's combined arms, and there was not a single scratch to show for their efforts.

@VitaVitaAR

---

"I'm thankful for your consideration, Ma'am," Seyrun replied to Margarita's concern while the soldiers she had set aflame a moment ago crumbled to the ground. "However, I believe that it was an enforcer such as Your Honorship that became famous for solving each and every engagement by torching everything to the ground. 'Fire is the solution for everything, indeed,' or something like this. I'm sure you know who I'm talking about."

"That said, I believe that there's value in discretion. Any more expenditure of Prana would be pointless at this time, given my esteemed allies' prowess." The young Nordic Mage commented wittily as she observed the unfolding of the combat -- or, perhaps was it a massacre?-- pulling back her hand and shutting down her magic circuits to the minimum she needed to endure the weather.

Seyrun turned to see that only Tamamo and she went to aid the Heroic Spirit who would turn out to be none other than Siegfried, the Dragonslayer, German's greatest hero. The mere thought of it, as well as the implications that the Valkyrie was likely to be Brynhildr, the most famous of Odin's shield maidens, made Seyrun's eyes widen. "Tama, be hospitable with him. He's the greatest hero of my people's mythology. Your skills certainly can be used to entertain such a prestigious legend, right? Oh," the tone of Seyrun's telepathic communication took a bit of a teasing nature as she continued talking with Tamamo, "but take care. If the legends are right, he's also a womanizer and heartbreaker. Don't let his rough charms trick you, ok~?"

Around this time a second Heroic Spirit introducing himself as William Shakespeare of all people approached the group, bringing with himself a second horde of deathless warriors, who were as swiftly engaged by the rest of the Magi and Servants as the group before it.

With little to do to contribute to the fight, Seyrun decided to approach their new guest and see if she could strike a conversation with him. "My, my, I wonder, is the Bard struck by the same misfortune as the personages of his works? That certainly would be very a elucidating revelation." Seyrun quipped, before curtsying as courtesy as she could while wearing a miniskirt, even if the smirk in her lips made it clear that at least part of such behavior was an act made for mere entertainment of both parties.

"Then again, where are my manners? I'm Seyrun Leviathan, a Magus born of these very lands and descended of the Danes. It's a pleasure to be of acquaintance of the greatest writer to ever draw breath upon this world."



Doing as she was told, Atalanta stood watch until the last of the Babylonia party entered the ziggurat. However, as soon as they were faced with the King of Heroes, she would materialize besides Keisuke, the speed of her movement being such that no one would notice her before she was already there. It truly made justice to her title of being the fastest hero of the Age of the Gods.

While the others turned their full attention to Gilgamesh, or the interrogation scene going by on the other side of the room, Atalanta's gaze was fixed on the green haired being whose gender was hard to discern even for the Virgin Huntress. He -- It?-- had a distinctive smell wafting from him, like a wild beast. It was something that attracted Atalanta's attention like a bees are drawn to a flowering field.

"I came here to take part in the legendary hunts the King of Heroes and his One Companion once did. May I ask, are you this companion, Enkidu, the only peer to the King of Heroes? If such is the truth, I, Atalanta, the Virgin Huntress of Artemis, would truly like to listen to those stories as well as hunt beside you if the chance is given." Atalanta declared boldly, talking to the green haired androgynous being while the others attempted to negotiate with Gilgamesh.

---

@PKMNB0Y@Lonewolf685@Beloss@Flamelord@GreenGoat@Nanashi Ninanai@ADamnFiddle

Alexander Nevsky - Scandinavia

As it turned out, Nevsky was not strictly needed for this battle, thanks to the force that was brought to bear against the rising dead around them. He did not complain about it, nor did he hold it against the others for eliminating the threat in as rapid a manner as possible. So he did what he could, cutting down any of the dead who went too close to his master, and making sure that the rear was guarded should they be suddenly set upon from another direction. Glory was of no concern to him, not in such a state.

Eventually the fight ended, both their own as well as the large clash that had been going on up ahead. The warrior who remained from that stepped forward, thanking them for their aid before turning to face the next wave of approaching foes as he revealed his identity. It was one that Nevsky had some knowledge of, though perhaps not as perfect as he would have liked. Peaceful relations with the Norse were difficult.

To his Masters question, he was quick to answer. 'I believe that Siegfried was the one who tempted by his guardian before doing battle with the dragon Fafnir, with the assistance of their deity Odin. Though he succeeds, he is eventually killed later for his own misdeeds.' Or something like that. He had heard a couple different versions of the tale, with varying details.

The surprise of being confronted with one of the Saber class was matched with the rather sudden appearance of a poet, one who also served as a lure for the creatures even as he waxed on. It seemed that this Shakespeare was not one for a fight himself.

"Perhaps now is not the proper time for grand tales, is it poet," Nevsky pointed out to Shakespeare as he brandished his weapon at the oncoming foe. That was something more suited for a feast or a festival. The fights were where the stories were made after all, so would he not be better off observing?

Nonetheless they went to the fight, and Nevsky did not hesitate as he joined the others in combating their foes. It was a fight they all were involved in, and he moved quickly as he struck out. No magic flourishes, just the powerful moves of one who had fought in many a battle before. Once they dealt with this they could move on, and with the sort of threat these things had shown themselves to be so far, that wouldn't be long.

@KoL@Lonewolf685@Beloss@GreenGoat@VitaVitaAR@Nanashi Ninanai@PKMNB0Y

As the rest of the zombies were laid to rest one final time, Shakespeare let out a sighed of relief as he patted his chest before turning to the group.

"Ah, simply splendid work, my dearest of allies!" he exclaimed, a smile on his face as he gestured towards the group. "This strength of yours is unmistakably borne of desire--what that desire is, though, I would hope to find out."

The Caster beamed as Seyrun praised his works, though, and elicited a laugh from the bard as he extended an arm to shake her hand.

"Dear girl, you flatter me so. I appreciate the gesture, though I must ask one thing of you:

How fare my works from where you are from? Whatever brought me to this frozen land told me naught of how they have proliferated, especially considering I was likely not born as of yet. 'Tis a shame, but I should hope that they are not simply antiquated works by now, correct?"

As Shakespeare continued to blather on, Siegfried thought for a moment at Tamamo's query before shaking his head.

"I... I haven't a clue in the slightest as to why that woman attacked me. I had heard there was a conflict in the area after being dragged here by some unknown force, and so I came to check. By the time I had arrived, that woman stood here, in the midst of all these dead, and began to speak of a man named Sigurd and of matters of love before attacking me. I swear upon my sword that I have no further insight into this problem, but upon my honor I will stop her if this wanton destruction is what she wishes upon the men and women of this land."

With a sigh, the Saber shook his head before turning off to the side and pointing his blade towards a small, dimly-lit village off in the far distance.

"That way. We should make haste, though; I fear what would happen to the townspeople if some other incident were to occur near them."

As he began to walk off, Siegfried turned his head back to face Sinfjotli, a somewhat worried expression on his face.

"Are you well? Come now, we may talk further en route. I, too, would like to know why you have arrived in such a timely manner."

@VitaVitaAR@Lonewolf685@GreenGoat@Nanashi Ninanai@ADamnFiddle@KoL@Beloss

---

Kintoki's eyes seemed to sparkle as he looked on at Gilgamesh's armor, taking a few moments to stare at the lustrous equipment before realizing his Master seemed to be a bit winded from the run up.

Maybe it would've been a good idea to carry her up in the middle of tackling soldiers down the stairs. Maybe. Or maybe it was the winter coat in the middle of a really hot place. Probably both.

Trying as best he could to slowly move over to his Master's side, the golden Berserker knelt down by her side and began to whisper.

"Yo, you okay there, Master? Need me to hang onto that extra layer for you? I don't mind," he asked, half-oblivious to the Archer's stares at him as he did so.


Well.
Well.
This was... Unfortunate.
Keisuke had, of course, read whatever reports he could dig up regarding the Fourth Holy Grail War, and the name 'Gilgamesh' stuck out like a sore thumb to him. Luckily, it seemed at if both Lancelot and one of the other Masters had it handled in regards to trying to placate the Servant who stood above them, but...

Well, what worried him more was how eager Atalanta seemed to be to hunt things. That timing... Honestly felt a bit odd, if anything. But now, he could only wait and see what the response from the Servants was.

Gilgamesh stared down at Lancelot and Montag for a moment, pausing for a moment after to close his eyes before extending his other arm forward, creating a rippling portal from which a rather large golden cup fell into it from.

"Dog, if there is another one of those Grails in this timeline, then say so sooner. The device this mongrel used to summon us three was what you see in my hand now, and I can detect no foul stench of corruption from within its confines. The city that burnt to the ground was of no matter to me, but I will not stand knowing that the same could happen to Uruk," he responded, flicking the vessel back into the Gate of Babylon before crossing his arms.

"Semiramis, remain here and take care of the logistics to reinforce the city's defenses--you spoke of your Noble Phantasm earlier and the preparation it necessitates, and so I will allow you to delegate men and resources as you please to create it. Do not abuse your authority, else I shall come after your head as well."

"Of course, King of Heroes. This is the land that I shall inherit, after all."

"Enkidu, you shall travel with me alongside these... Volunteers... To do as you suggested. The citizens should be pleased knowing that we have returned to lead them once more."

"Of course, Gilgamesh."

As the three finished conversing, Gilgamesh and Enkidu walked down the steps from the throne above, the former glaring between Svetleaze, Arturia, and Lancelot and the latter trailing behind to respond to Atalanta.

"I would be happy to tell you tales of our hunts in the future, but for now you and the others should probably follow Gilgamesh. He is still a bit selfish, but far less so when it comes to his kingdom--and if what your companions state is to be taken as truth, then it is probably for the better. If you want some more information, feel free to ask; your intentions seem to be noble enough, so I shall trust you for the moment."

As Gilgamesh walked out of the ziggurat, he was met with a group of soldiers who had finally decided to move into the structure to see what had caused the earlier explosion. Their spears were held at the ready as he calmly strode out, his presence expounded by the armor he was wearing before he held out his arm to the men.

"Citizens of Uruk! Your king, Gilgamesh, has returned to lead you!" he declared, pulling a golden weapon out of his Gate of Babylon and pointing it at the sky. "At ease, brave soldiers!

The men took a moment to process the scene in front of them before Enkidu stepped out, at which point they stood at attention and saluted towards Gilgamesh.

"That charisma of yours certainly does well, doesn't it?" Enkidu quipped, a slight smile on his face as he and Gilgamesh began walking down the steps towards the citizens waiting down below.

"The Age of Gods is just barely waning--a regal appearance such as mine goes a long way, friend," Gilgamesh retorted, a smirk on his in return as he placed the weapon back into his armory. "So, what do you think about our guests? That blonde knight, Artoria Pendragon..."

"They are trustworthy enough. Even I could tell after a few moments of looking that they meant us no harm... Save for the one you mentioned. Is she a problem?"

"Far from it--she's the one I'm most interested in. But she shouldn't be a problem--her ideals as both a knight and a king are far too righteous to attempt something so slanderous as to attack me in any regard here. She shall be a useful ally for the days to come."

Enkidu, of course, found Gilgamesh's familiarity with this group of people to be rather strange, all things considered. Slowing his pace as Gilgamesh walked ahead to continue his earlier plans, Enkidu hung back as the rest of the group form within the ziggurat followed by, and decided that questioning the two knights about the situation would be in both his and Gilgamesh's best interests.

"Sorry, I had a bit of a discussion there about what to do. Before anything else, though, would you mind if I asked you something?" the Servant asked Lancelot and Arturia, not waiting for a confirmation before continuing. "How does Gilgamesh know you two already? The female knight--Artoria, was it?--seemed to be someone memorable to him. Then there was the matter of that Grail, which he seemed to understand... May I ask for some sort of explanation about that, or is it a matter better left untouched?"
@VitaVitaAR@Raineh Daze@Lonewolf685@GreenGoat@ADamnFiddle@KoL@Beloss

Caster blinked, surprised, when her Master suddenly scooped her up. Oh, one of the Dead had gotten behind her? That's what Gretchen must have been trying to say! Wait, share all the ice cream with the Dead?!

"Uwaaaaah? No no no, the Dead can't appreciate ice cream they can only appreciate meat and blood and that's no good to make ice cream with because ice cream is supposed to be sweet and tasty and not meaty and bloody meaty and bloody ice cream would be weird and probably not taste very good!" the diminutive girl cried, waving one hand as she clutched Gretchen to her chest, firmly, kicking her feet a little.

Meanwhile, Edeltaud's hand went cleanly through the chest of one of the Dead and then tore upwards, splitting the undead in half from the chest through its head. She flicked the blood off of her sleeve and glove and turned a way, a heap of corpses surrounding her. Carefully, she adjusted her suit.

She spoke no more, instead regarding those she presumed to be her allies.

---

Saber considered the situation for a few moments in her mind. Not only had Lancelot referred to the Grail as corrupted, but Gilgamesh had as well. Did they refer to the destruction that had erupted from the Grail when... when Kiritsugu forced her to destroy it? But why would such a thing be so corrupted? At the moment, however, there were other matters to be discussed as well. This was no ordinary grail war, so the nature of the grail was now a secondary matter to preserving the safety of those who were in danger. That was, in the end, their mission.

Another matter that surprised her, however, was the prideful King of Uruk's attitude. He did not treat those under his power as trash to be thrown away at his whims. He was concerned for their safety. That had not been the impression she had gained from him, but it did not change her view of his philosophy in leadership.

Regardless, now Enkidu spoke to both herself and Lancelot.

"He was my opponent in the class of Archer during a Grail War," Saber explained, "Our ideals clashed, and he was the final opponent to lay between me and the grail..."

The short blonde trailed off for a few moments. She found herself unwilling to speak of just what had happened, of how Kiritsugu had forced her to destroy the grail.

"... Regardless, here we no longer seem to be opponents."