Quickly the hero was formed, to stand there before the one who arranged the process. But appearing within that circle of blood was not what one would normally expect if they knew the name of the one who stood there. Normally one would think of a man when they heard the name Yukimura Sanada. Due to the way modern stories unfolded, the usual idea was a hot blooded young man with dark hair, wielding one or two spears. Dressed in the signature red that they were known for, talking loudly and moving with a heat to their actions.

But standing there was nothing of the sort. Instead it was a young woman with long black hair that turned a fiery red close to the ends, and rather than let it sit normally it was tied up into a ponytail that spread out behind her back. Holding that ponytail up was a white ribbon, or so it appeared. Rather it was a white headband that also was tied around to the front of her forehead, hiding underneath the black turning red bangs resting there.

Peering at the man from her own spot with two dark red eyes the girl shifted. The height of the girl was luckily not obvious at first glance. If anything, it had to range within the area of five foot two to five foot four. The expression the Hero gave him was now cold. A questioning sort of look, as it came together.

She raised her hands before her face, taking a moment to open and close them as it made sense. Her thoughts drifted to the Holy Grail War, and her own placement here. Truly this meant her actions had been remembered. Her mark on history had succeeded or failed well enough to be remembered even to this day. As well the modern era was different from her own.

Taking a deep breath, she quickly examined herself while she had the chance too. She wasn’t going to keep the Magus waiting long, but she did need a moment after all. It was an unusual experience to become a Servant after all. Her body was skinnier than she liked, but that wasn’t any different from before. A thin agile body could be a good thing, though it did make it harder to show off any form of strength using muscle or take pride in one’s bodily development.

Her black top clung to the upper half of her torso, leaving the stomach and arms free, as the rest armor piece on top was secure, holding the cords that kept her shoulder pads in place as well. The bands on her arms were secure, holding on with the red guard over her right forearm was present. She noted her socks were uneven as one went up to her thigh while the other only stopped on her shin, but didn’t make much of it as her focus was on the red footwear under them.

And lastly was confirming her skirt. Black with a white line, the front showing but the back hidden by the long red cloth that bore the symbol of her clan, metal piece at the top with the guard over the front. At the center and top were the six coins that she was familiar with.

Having confirmed herself, she looked up to the man who was likely going to claim to be her Master. Her emotions were running wild as she considered it already. She was going to be at war once more, this time with the greatest legends that surpassed her own. Those who were truly heroic and had earned their right to be household names all over the world.

Heart rate increasing, she took a deep breath before speaking. It had to be perfect after all, but with no hesitation. She wanted someone reliable and that she could count on in this war. But most of all, she wanted someone who would direct her accordingly. No matter what though she had been called, and she would obey the person standing before her if he was indeed the one who was giving her this chance.

“I am the Servant Lancer! I have answered your call! Would you be the one claiming the honor of calling yourself my Lord?”

And immediately she felt like she had messed up. If anything she had meant to ask if he was her master in a less formal manner. And only now had she taken in the surroundings of the attic. Most of all she had only taken in something at that moment. She felt stronger than she should be. Perhaps it was due to this being her home country, or perhaps she was more powerful than she had realized. But either way that had not been expected.

Mostly though she was worried now that she came off somewhat overconfident in herself. Too late to change her words though, she followed up by pointing strongly at the man who stood before her, arm at her side, while displaying a serious expression that was to convey the intention that she would not forgive him if he was an enemy instead.

@Breo

"Let's see. A new Rider and that Archer at that one house. A Lancer at the cemetery. An Archer at the...docks? Berserker at the temple. Assassin over in the west fields. Berserker in Miyama. Rider in the east fields. No Sabers or Caster yet, though? Hm."

Lounging in an oversized chair, a near-empty wine glass being tilted around in his hand, the man who had been appointed to serve as the administrator of the Holy Grail War went over the information provided to him by his Class Container. Having claimed this section of the church has his own, planting his flag and marking it as his own domain-...in other words, having told the priests that he wanted to stay here, he had remained in this situation for quite some time.

The glass was once more raised to his lips, being drained dry of its contents before being set down. Not for the first time today, he glanced down at his own attire, a product of his discovery of modern clothing after being summoned. Really, this suited him far better than that trash he'd been summoned in.

If there was someone witnessing this display, they would likely be wondering why Ruler was sitting there, alone, talking to himself out loud.

...well, it was a good thing nobody was witnessing it, then.

"...now that I think about it, maybe I should have made an announcement that the war's participants need to come register with me after being summoned. That would probably make sense given the scale of this one."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Well, I'm sure they'll be conscientious enough to come say hello regardless." He murmured to himself, reaching over to refill his wine glass with a rather worrying level of practiced ease.

Alone with nothing but his mind and his booze, the great Servant who stood as the king who would preside over this war simply continued on.

---

For a brief moment as the shining dart penetrated him Rostam's eyes shot open, his face twisting in pain, drained of color as agony and pure astonishment mixed together on his face. His mighty frame trembled and he let out a short barking cry of pain, as one who tries to scream, but finds his breath to short to do so.

His master was saying something, but he did not hear. Healing magic began to wash over him, but he did not notice. All his attention was riveted to the house from where the unexpected bolt had come. For a moment he looked completely bewildered.

Then he burst out laughing.

It started as a small strangled chuckle, and then increased until he was laughing freely and uncontrollably. It was not a laugh of amusement, or derision such as were common to powerful men, but a laugh of joy. The laugh of someone who is experiencing a moment of pure and simple happiness. Blood poured from his mouth, staining his beard, while tears ran from his eyes in rivers. He lifted his arms clumsily, trying to wipe his face, and then spat out blood, only to begin laughing again helplessly.

Around him Prana surged briefly, and, with some effort, he managed to choke out the word "R-Rakhsh!" in between his laughter.

Beside him an immense horse, larger even than he was, appeared in a swirl of white. If Rostam was a giant, then this noble beast was a giant among giants. A horse, 11 or 12 feet tall that looked larger and heavier than an elephant. Despite its size and magnificence, somehow the most notable thing about it was the look of nearly human intelligence in its face.

With a herculean effort, Rostam rose unsteadily to his feet and mounted the mighty beast, his chuckling reverting to gasps of pain for a moment before resuming.

"R-Rakhsh! Charge! Ha-hahaha- ah oh!- ahahaha! The enemy is there! Trample that house to pieces! Ahh! Ahahaaha!"

The horse shot its rider a glance over its shoulder that an outside observer might have sworn was exasperation, and then began riding in the opposite direction. With a lightning quick motion the horse snapped its head forward snakelike, and caught Lorelei Baggett around the waste in its massive teeth as it passed her. Had it finished its bite the beast would have clipped her in half at the waist, but with remarkable restrain it instead simply held her firmly in its jaws, her head and upper body locked within its cavernous mouth.

Then it thundered away, the ground shakeing beneath the tread of its hooves as it ran faster than the wind, leaping over houses and bounding through yards at a pace that even a Servant would have found incredible.

"Wait! Rakhsh! Haaaa- ahh- ha! Where are you going? Turn around! We must charge! No! Hahahahah! Wait! Go back you faithless animal! Dont you understand! Hahaah!"

Between a bleeding tiger striped giant swaying painfully in the saddle and laughing like a madman, a horse larger than an elephant, and the lower body of a young girl sticking out of its mouth, any potential lookers on would have had quite the shock.

---

---

Magnificent he was, the greatest of heroes. They said he had bathed in the fountain of immortality, and thus become invincible. With his diamond headed arrows of light there was no armor, no hide of dragons which could stand against him. Wielding his bow with the skill of the gods the mighty one unleashed a hail of shining darts against his adversary, pincushioning his target.

Rostam returned fire, drawing and loosing his great bow with equal skill, yet one by one his arrows snapped harmlessly against the targets skin.

Rostam could only cast away his bow and charge forward, bellowing like a bull as he tried to bring his mighty hammer down on the skull of this man, this warrior whose powers rivaled his own. Never before had his dragon skin been pierced by human hands, or his own arrows failed against human skin, but against this bowman he had at last met his superior.

He pushed forward, screaming in rage as the diamond tipped arrows buried themselves in his ribs, arms, legs and neck. It was the first time that another human had ever threatened his life, had challenged his standing as the mightiest in the land with any hope of success, and he found that he hated this upstart.

The bowman had not retreated at his approach, had not fallen back an inch before the rapid advance of the champion, and despite his injuries Rostam now saw victory before him. If he could but close the space between them, he would end this intolerable fool with a single blow.

Another arrow sunk into his chest, and then he was within grips of his enemy, his mace arcing through the air to reduce this man to a bloody paste.

The mace of Sam, the crushing club of heroes which had reduced demons and monsters to atoms, struck the head of Esfandiyār and rebounded harmlessly, as if it weighed no more than a twig.

Then the hero Esfandiyār threw away his bow, drawing his sword in a flash. Rostam found himself fighting for his life. It did not matter how hard, or how many times he struck. Against this man a hail of blows that would have slain the Demon King Arzang Div ten times over fell harmlessly.

It had been the Simurgh in the end that resolved the conflict in his favor. Nothing more.

The arrow, shafted with tamarisk, fletched with the feathers of the Divine Griffin flew straight and true from Rostam's bow, takeing the beautiful Esfandiyār through the eye, and snatching away his life. Against the arrow of the Simurgh even one who had bathed in the fountain of immortality could not be saved.

The moment he did so his hatred evaporated, and he saw the peerless nobility of the one who now lay stretched out on the sands in death. He had slain him, the one man on earth who he might have called an equal, through a cheap trick. Kneeling over the body of Esfandiyār, Rostam had wept as long and loudly as the man's own followers.

---

---

Now again Rostam saw the shining arrow of light streaking towards him. Felt it pierce his flesh, and knew instinctively that it was fatal.

How strange it was that within a few moments of his summoning his very deepest wish would be granted without having to lift a finger. And so he laughed with boundless joy.

---

---

"So tell me, my Master, who exactly are you, and what would make you worthy of being my master?"

Alex looked at his newest familiar with a discontented expression. He had chosen to give him a crooked answer, turning it back on him instead. Well, that was fine for now he guessed. If nothing else he could at least rely on his cards to give him a rough idea of the man's character when he next had time to read them. Still though, already he could see that this was a lot less like interacting with a spirit, and more like a simple exchange between to humans, regardless of how much prana this 'man' seemed to be pissing out of every pore in his body.

I'm Alex aren't I. He said simply. I'm low on cash and time, so geting a relic was out of the question. This is my boat. I summoned you. Your history 's important because your famous, and that gives you superpowers or something. I don't get extra magic for being a celebrity, so mine is pointless. I want the Grail and I'm willing to get myself killed, or sink my trawler to the bottom over it. If you don't like me, write a complaint and I'll consider giving you a bonus at the end of the month, a favor for a valued employee."

---

@Holy Grail @Cu Chulainn @Moonlit Sonata

After that lone arrow had pierced its target, concealed amidst the Bounded Fields layered around the manor, the Servant who had launched the attack could only let out a slight sigh, a wistful smile playing at the edge of his lips.

"...he survived. I thought he looked like a strong one, but to survive my strongest arrow without even trying to strike it...Ha, it seems like this won't be as boring as I was worried it would be. I'll have to do things properly next time I see him."

From behind him, a brief set of footsteps rang out, that individual called the Servant's Master coming to a stop beside him. In contrast to the Archer, the magus's expression was tense, as though the encounter just now had been more worrying for them than it had been for the nearly-dead Servant.

"You're lucky that he was able to survive. I told you not to use those attacks just yet; we should leave the killing for Berserker for now. The fewer cards we play now, the better...all the more so when there's Ruler watching from a distance." The magus murmured, shaking their head with a touch of disdain. In response, though, the Archer could only laugh, a hand going behind his head as his wistful grin became bashful.

"Ah, you'll have to forgive me. It just got my blood boiling, I couldn't help myself."

Shrugging, the Master raised their hands up helplessly. "Well, he lived, so it's fine in the end. We got some interesting information, too. Strength and Constitution at the peak, the capability to survive fatal wounds, mace-user, and some sort of defensive armament, likely a Noble Phantasm of some sort if it was able to mitigate that arrow of yours." They remarked, having gleaned all of the information displayed by Rostam just now via Master's Clairvoyance. In response though, the Archer could only puff up slightly out of pride.

"Probably. I can't imagine anything less being able to slow down that attack. Even if I'm weaker than when I was alive, I'm still the one who ■■■■ ■■■■ ■■■ ■■■■."

His Master seemed to mostly be thinking by now, though, setting Archer's comment aside. "A mace would make it more likely that they're not one of the Knight Classes, but those parameters are the sort you'd expect from something like a Saber. Mm, either he's a Saber or Lancer who's hiding his true weapon, or he's a Rider or a Berserker. He's almost certainly no Caster or Assassin, and given his weapon and para-"

The magus cut themselves off as they felt the flow of prana briefly distort, their eyes flitting back over to the Servant with a look of surprise as a horse of absurd stature appeared. "...a mount." He murmured under his breath, as if in disbelief that he had witnessed the release of a Noble Phantasm so soon. "Archer, did you hear him say a true name? I couldn't make it out over that...laughter."

Several seconds of silence reigned, the trio of Master, Servant, and horse departing the perimeter, before the Archer saw fit to speak back up. "A bowman's senses are to always be keen. Rakhsh. He invoked the name, and then referred to it by that name a second time. I doubt that I misheard. Ha, it seems that I just attacked the chief hero of a culture sphere."

"...Rostam, then?" The magus murmured, their brows furrowing for a moment before they nodded to themselves. "If that's the case, then that defense of his must be that suit he was said to wear. Pity I didn't get a better look at him before he left, or we'd have gained that much more information. Well, at the least, I suppose there's no shame in having him survive your attack, then, but we shouldn't expect next time to go the same way. I'll send the information to our allies up at the temple."

"Understood. I'll resume fortifications. This still isn't up to the standard I'd like it to be at." Archer commented, turning to set off deeper into the manor. "Ah, I know we're aiming for our wishes, but still it's exciting. I hope some of the other Servants are strong ones as well. People finally able to match me, it's such a thrilling feeling."

Zephyr light bathed the basement in a impenetrable veil for a few seconds, masking beneath it an arcane effect of Alice's design. The glow flashed even more intensely for a brief second as something metallic sounded out. Something heavy and large impacted the floor. Soon, the light began to fade, revealing the entity that had been summoned forth from beyond. Kneeling upon one knee, the dominating physical form of a fully-armored knight replaced empty air, head bowed to the magician.

Taking a moment to gather himself, the knight turned his head upwards slowly, gazing upon Alice with a helm of glistening silver, and eyes that could not be seen. His blue, regal cape settled around his body, laying upon the floor gently and without a sound. As if a giant rising from a long slumber, the knight rose to two feet, towering over Alice, and making the ceiling seem far shorter than normal. Staring her down, he remained silent before scanning over himself. First his hand, then his chestplate, and then his cape. A hand rested on his sheathed sword as he seemed to ponder over something. Finally, he spoke.

"You are... my Master, I presume?" he asked in a gentle tone. After Alice answered, the knight summarily unsheathed his sword pointing the tip down to the floor, before letting it settle like a cane. The metal clanged briefly, and held firm.

"Then I, your Servant, shall carry out your will with utmost determination and grace. I am Rider, the man who's soul, kept within his works, shall never die. My name has branded itself upon the world, and at some time, you may discover it within yourself. For now, simply call me Rider." Hugues gripped the pommel of his sword tightly as an arcane burst pulsated down its length and into the floor.

"As your Servant, your home shall be the Temple that I guard with my life, as I would were it the sanctuary of God Almighty himself. Your soul will be its heart that I treasure as the Chalice contained within."

Hugues stood before Alice, seeming quite readied for orders or talk. Faceless as he was with his helm, his aura spoke to Alice as someone who was fond of talk and socialization. Something about his aura... seemed as if he were a true teammate. A team player in the truest sense.

---

It had been perfect – in as much as something can be, anyway. Or, at least, so had he thought.

The brilliant flash had caused him to close his eyes for an instant simply to avoid being blinded, as was natural. When he opened them, however, blinking and noting the silvery smoke that had likely been another byproduct of the summoning, he came face to face with something he did not quite expect.

…He might not have known much about the history of this country, but he had informed himself about the Servant he had elected to summon. He was quite certain none of the texts he had read had mentioned that ‘Yukimura Sanada’ was a woman.

For a second, he did not really know how to react. Had he been misled, supplied a forgery of a catalyst and actually been fooled by it? The mere thought almost caused his entire mood to darken – and were he alone, he would have likely not been able to keep a composed countenance. As it was, however, he tried to show proper decorum.

Appearances were everything, and so, a flawless image must be presented. He lowered his left hand, silently observing the one that would be his partner for the remainder of this battle royale – her clothing certainly seemed to at least evoke the style of the country and the appropriate period, even if they were not exactly the garments he would have figured a warrior would wear. The symbol she bore lightened his worries, if only slightly.

Having acquainted himself in passing with the history of the Servant he had chosen, he recognized the significance of those six coins, so at least she should be related to Yukimura Sanada… unless history had gotten some facts wrong.

Oh, well, today seemed like a day for impossibilities regardless, did it not? Adding just one more to the pile did not seem all that presumptuous.

He felt the burn of the Command Seal on the back of his left hand, the symbols etching themselves upon the skin, proof of the contract between himself and whatever legend he had managed to summon forth – regardless of it being the one he had intended to or not.

For an instant, he seemed to ponder what to do, as if out of his depth – after all, how does one go about establishing conversation with a warrior from ages long past? Thankfully enough, his Servant was so kind as to provide an opening.

“I am the Servant Lancer! I have answered your call! Would you be the one claiming the honor of calling yourself my Lord?”

He felt his jaw twitch for an instant, attempting to disguise a grimace with what he hoped would come across as a courteous bow. Theatrical, but he figured he might as well play along, particularly if this was truly one of those prideful heroes that would take anything else as a personal slight. A working relationship was paramount.

“Indeed.”, the words left his mouth simply and easily, a smooth baritone carried across the room. Still, Lancer… he supposed it was a rather fine outcome. Master Clairvoyance had offered him an overview of his Servant’s capabilities, and he was suitably impressed – not only had he secured a Knight Class with power above the norm, he had avoided the dreaded Archer Class that might have proven too uncontrollable with their Independent Action. Yes, all considered, he had been dealt a good hand overall. Now what was left was figuring out how to use said hand to his advantage, but first…

Straightening himself, his gaze shifted from the ground to meet his Servant’s eyes. Though respect was indeed important when dealing with such individuals, one must also take care to not let themselves be stepped upon, else risking to lose any influence they might have hoped to hold without needing to bring Command Seals into the equation.

And he would not allow that. He would definitely not allow that. He still had some pride to his name, thank you very much.

“I am David Ríos, and I have called you forth in order to compete – nay, win this Holy Grail War.” Lifting his hand, he showed the sigils now carved upon its back. Whether to glory or doom, this was a path he would tread together with Lancer.

…Preferably glory. He cleared his throat, parched and dry and noting in the back of his mind that he really did need a glass of water, and looked almost as if he was unsure as to how to proceed from this point on. His features turned from stern to a laxer visage, some might say slightly confused, even.

“Well, that said, I must admit I am surprised, Lancer.” He nodded towards the helmet, as though it was supposed to explain it all. “When I thought to summon Yukimura Sanada, I was expecting a man to step out of that circle, considering all texts I read mentioned the Crimson Demon of War as such.”, upon saying so, however, he lifted his hands in front of himself, as if to signal that he meant no offense. “Not that I would doubt the capabilities of a Heroic Spirit because of something as paltry as that.”

Surprised by his Servant’s very gender, said Servant potentially proving a troublesome, if powerful, card and now fumbling over his choice of words in a manner so unbefitting of his upbringing. Truly, his ancestors must be rolling in their graves.

He had envisioned this first meeting going so much better. Oh, well, no plan survives contact – just be content to salvage what you can. Absentmindedly, he also noted that registering at the Church now that he had made his status as a Master 'official' so to speak was of great importance, but first, the exchange of pleasantries with his Servant would need to be completed.

At the very least, he would be able to say it was an enlightening experience.

It was not every day that one learned that a famous heroic figure from centuries past had been recorded by history as the opposite gender, right?

Archer raised his eyebrow, blinking at his Master's response. From this exchange, Archer had learned that his Master is a very straightforward man. He also learned that he doesn't have the full respect of his Master at this time. Of course, he can't blame his Master for not knowing of his legend, at least with their current circumstances.

And of course, they both share one goal...

To obtain the Holy Grail.

Archer lowered his head, crossing his arms and letting out a chuckle. "Straight to the point, then... very well." He said, looking back up to his Master, straightfaced.

"Before we come to an agreement, I have a few conditions to make regarding our arrangement..."

"I will operate off of this... boat of yours for the most of this war. You can join me, or you can just stay here for the entirety of the war. I don't care too much as to what you do, so long as you don't get yourself killed. As a Heroic Spirit of the Archer class, I am able to work independently from you for an extensive amount of time. Whenever I require any more magical energy, I will return here. Hopefully you will be here when I do."

"On that note, I believe it best we discuss with eachother our plans before we act upon them. That way, our actions can be coaligned, and we can both formulate contingencies in the event any of our plans do not commence accordingly."

Archer grinned after explaining his terms, bringing his arms out from the sides of his body, as if he's presenting himself to his Master.

"And there you have it. Those are my terms. If you don't like, them, just remember, you could always write a complaint."

@Beloss

She had decided to wait. Without interrupting the man before her at all, she took in what he said. Her Lord for this war seemed like he was polite enough. He did not show any anger or a change of mood at the way she had tried to extract an answer from him. That was a good starting sign.

The talk of her gender though was a bit vexing. If anything, she didn’t like the reminder of how she was written down. Of course, there were reasons for that happening beyond them simply writing it incorrectly. Taking a moment, she moved forward before her Master, and actually put herself down on one knee, fist against the floor, looking downward. After all he was the Master, the Lord, in this relationship.

“Lord Ríos! First please forgive me. I had not meant to talk to you as I had, but sometimes I act first and think after. It’s an unfortunate habit. You do not need to be so cautious with me though. I would prefer we act on friendly terms if possible, but in this relationship, I am but the lance that you shall direct at your enemies. Thus, I would request you not be careful when talking with me. I am prepared for any complaints you may have or orders you may give. That is what it means to be a warrior under their Lord.”

Even if her Lords decisions would bring her to ruin, she would follow them if they were adamant and did not want to hear her opinion or compromise. Well so long as her personality didn’t interfere and she caused issues by not thinking about it.

“As for my identity, I am indeed Yukimura Sanada. If history has recorded my identity as that of a man, that would be because I had detested my gender and had often had people treat me as if I was one as well. The values of the time were very different. Thus, I had discarded them and instead tread down a path where others would treat and see me as a male warrior. I can promise I am a formidable warrior though. Any order you have I shall do to the best I can.”

Rather than lift her head up to look at David, the Lancer kept her head down, humiliated by her previous tone when she had spoken. It was completely her belief she had come off as full of herself and was already causing issues in their relationship of Master and Servant. Or as she preferred to think, Warrior and Lord.

It was a matter of the fact she was extremely embarrassed and didn’t want her Lord to see her no longer composed expression. That and she had every urge to speak much more casually. She wanted to simply talk with him as if they were friends, but she also had her own values from her time which would not allow her to do that. Being so informal could easily cause her to lose her life in such a situation if he took it the wrong way.

As well, from Lancers side she felt this display may help establish trust between them. That would be one of the factors she felt weighed most heavily in this war. If they could not trust each other, serving under him may become more difficult.

“If you have any questions for me now I shall also answer them if I can. Be it how I fight, what duties I can perform for you, or anything regarding my history. If you desire it, I shall tell you anything you want.”

This was what she was used to. The staggering difference between the Lord and the Warrior. Master and Servant. But due to her own hang up and passion to clear up the misunderstanding she felt she created, she also had not realized her own thoughts were going in circles, bringing her back to trying to fix the relationship every time she opened her mouth despite not having a response yet.

She finally become silent though, awaiting a single world from her Master. If he showed displeasure she felt as though she’d be more humiliated than anything though. Her hands felt a bit sweaty at the mere idea, and she felt her expression would slip into one of despair.

Lancer never could have known about the issues running through the man’s head in contrast to the ones running through her own.

If she had known though she may have tried to re-assure him. She had no issues with how he had spoken, nor with what he knew of her. It was only natural after all. History had recorded her in a way that pleased her rather than made her upset. It may be due to the difference between the eras, but it still had her happy on the inside.

@Breo

---

Alex listened to his Servants list of conditions and nodded at each one of them as they were presented. There was nothing to far off the mark here, though he chuckled softly when the Servant concluded. He held up his right hand displaying the command spells that were etched there. "If I decide to write a complaint you'll know in a hurry."

Jibes aside, he approved of his Servants basic outline, and found himself relaxing slightly. Their basic ideas of method at least were in accord, and from there pretty much everything else could be dealt with as it came. A loose, practical method of negotiation, that was what Alex Bradan liked best.

"Don't get me wrong Mr. Archer. I like to think of myself as a passable Magi, and I'm smarter than a good half of those old blood Clock Tower fucks. I don't intend to give you a reason to desert me." He moved over to one of the little circular tables that lined the wall of the chamber and moved several jars of reagents away before takeing his seat on the bench and lighting a new cigaret.

"To specifics then. This ship has been etched with my personal bounded field, while we are on board we should have some measure of security. I wouldn't want to sit in dock with a crack team of Enforcers on my tale, but most of these other competitors won't be that. More to the point, this ship is seaworthy. I don't plan on staying in the same place, and if things get hot enough, I intend to bring her far out to sea before circling back in to throw them off the scent. None of this should be a problem for you though, so long as you allow me to perform Transferal of Consciousness on you. It will let me to see through your eyes, let us coordination over long distance."

He paused takeing a puff or two on his cigaret before continuing.

If they try to attack us on the open waves that should give you the advantage. I cant think of a more coverless field. In fact, if it comes to it, luring some of them out over the water to shoot them down might not be so bad an idea. If you have the firepower to pull it off we could turn this rig into a mobile weapons platform, which brings us back to what your real name is, or at least, what your capabilities are.

---

@Cu Chulainn

---

…Mm.

Had it been a misunderstanding of the Servant’s character on his part, had what he mistook as pride been truly but an outburst of the moment? If so, he supposed that reflected all more poorly on him for not being able to see it, but – well, at least Lancer had the presence of mind to straighten it out before it became a problem.

Good thing, too. He much preferred a Servant that was comfortable following orders over one that challenged him at every turn. As for the ‘friendly terms’… Well, it was much too early to say, but he certainly saw no problem in adjusting his persona just a tad – certainly, she was to be his sword and shield, so that kindness could certainly be afforded.

As it was, he could certainly say the situation was a weight off his shoulders – and he, for one, would look a gift horse like this in the mouth, particularly when it was presented like so. Tension slowly ebbed away and he shifted from the formal stance to a more relaxed one.

“I feel it is I who should apologize.”, he said, hoping to clear any remaining unease. “I mistook you for the sort that would enjoy the formalities and came across as foppish, so that’s certainly a mark against me.”

Maybe it was better to keep the fact that he had indeed thought her to be the arrogant sort veiled for the moment – no need to risk coming across as insulting, right? Ah, well, at least his Servant seemed willing to listen and explain. He chose to not to comment on the reason she had been recorded in history as a man, merely nodding and letting the matter rest – it was not his business, after all. All that mattered to him was that she proved competent in her assigned role.

Nodding to himself, he went over his mental checklist for the day – regardless of the initial misunderstanding and his reasonable surprise, nothing had actually changed in his strategies, so that much was already a boon.

“Certainly, I would prefer hearing the sort of strategies and engagements you are more comfortable with, Lancer.”, not in the least because he would need to adapt any plans he drafted to make sure his Servant could use her abilities to their full extent. “However, at the same time, I should share with you some of what I have already thought about prior to your summoning, as it were.”

He paused for a second to let his words hang in the air. It was truly nothing grand, merely a conjecture of a plan he had formulated, to be completed only when he was certain about the capabilities of his Servant, but he thought it would be a sound idea.

That said, he was certainly no master strategist, so he figured input from a famed warrior would be a welcome thing.

“To begin with, though this cottage will serve as our base of operations, I have yet to create the Bounded Fields that will truly allow it to carry out its purpose – both basic and something more advanced, a specialty of mine so to speak.”, it was embarrassing to admit that he had prepared so little, but at the same time, it was better to be upfront about such things – and it was not like he had been granted enough time, really. “In that regard, I consider it to be a higher priority than heading to the church and check in with the Overseer for the time being. More to the point of your role, however, I feel that we should first focus on the Assassin Class as far as threats in this war are concerned.”

A smile that conveyed no small amount of faux self-mockery settled upon his features.

“I can hardly defend myself before a Servant, and the shadow of the Hero of Murder makes for a daunting thing – before we eliminate them, I fear we might not be able to focus fully on our other opponents for this War. Caster remains a close contender, however – particularly, we should try to hunt them down before they have a chance to set up a Territory of their own.”

Indeed, Assassin and Caster were the two most dangerous pieces on the table, at least as far as he was concerned – one could appear at any one moment Lancer was preoccupied and go for his own throat, and the other could prove amazingly troublesome if given respite and preparation. Though he was confident in a Knight Class’ ability to take challenges presented head-on, subterfuge was a more worrying matter.

He should know. He is, after all, a magus.

“Otherwise, as far as your own tactics in combat are concerned…”, here, he paused again, as if thinking about what to say. “Well, I can hardly claim to know more about it than yourself, so in that regard, feel free to do as you believe is appropriate. I will provide support where needed.

So all I ask is that you bring me the heads of our enemies in turn.”

…

Ah, had that last phrase been perhaps too dramatic? He thought it was what one was supposed to say, considering the circumstances...

@Ijoyen

From the temple that stood atop a mountain, a pair of existences conversed.

Or at least, they did if one could call what was happening a conversation. A magus, surprise briefly flitting across their face as they received word from their ally, looked towards a nearby woman who bore a lazy grip on a crimson lance. Surprise was written over with a trace of unease as the magus attempted to garner their Servant's attention.

"Oh, ah, Berserker? We've just gotten a report, it seems the others got into a brief scuffle with one of the enemy Servants, a Rostam of the Rider class. They drove him off, but-"

"Eeeh? So what, you're sayin' that the fuckin' pompous-ass bow prick managed to draw blood before I got a chance to?"

Without warning, the Berserker interjected, her face twisting in a derisive sneer as the grip on her spear tightened. In response, her Master could only falter back slightly.

"...I, um, well yes, but that's really beside the-"

"What kinda bullshit is that?! Here I am, workin' my ass off on this place, and you're telling me that he gets to hurt people before I've even seen a damn Servant?"

"B-Berserker, we don't have any control over what the other participants do, please calm down-"

"Calm down? Calm down?! If you want me to calm down, then maybe you should'a summoned one of those prissy calm fucks in the Throne instead'a me! Oh, I've got it, how about that little bitch saint who prayed so hard that she made a dragon fuck right off? I bet you two'd get along just great."

Silence reigned for several seconds, the overly-harsh exhales of the Berserker clashing against the faltering form of her Master, whose eyes were now flitting about as one would expect a trapped animal's to.

"...I...I'm going to go back to talking with the monks now."

"...Fuckin' slut."

Such is life in Fuyuki.

Archer looked around for his own seat, finding one where he could be across his Master, as his Master found his own seat. He nodded as he listened to the plan, a small grin on his face around the end.

"I see that you are indeed smarter than most would come to think, seeing as you thought of a well-formed plan. And at first, I was almost about to ask why you didn't summon me as a Rider. Of course, it does seem like fate has grouped us together, after all... I will allow the Transferral of Consciousness while I'm on land. That way, I won't have to make extensive reports. Regarding the event of the both of us having to go out at sea, I will have to refuse depending on as to how far we go. If you've ever been lost at sea as long as I have, you would understand."

"As for my capabilities... my Noble Phantasm will indeed work with your plan. In fact, the least amount of cover will work the best. Not that my arrow cannot pierce such cover, however... it is an arrow that will pierce any and all opposition in order to find its target. Of course, as you said, us Heroic Spirits have... superpowers based off of our legend, and as such, the arrow is limited only within the scope of mine... and of course, my legend does not involve me hitting my target, but by piercing through twelve obstacles."

Archer chuckled, crossing his arms.

"And that's not even what I'm most famous for."

@Beloss

It seemed that this day would be zanier than she had thought it would be. After being hurt it seemed her servant had not actually listened to her, laughing like a seeming utterly happy madman as he bled out. If nothing else, at least, her healing spell seemed to be taking good effect on his body when she was able to see him, and it would last for a while at that to help knit his punctured form together for a while. This being noted, however, things had gone a different direction than she had even thought it would go at that point. Just when her servant summoned his admittedly gigantic legendary mount, calling out its true name much to her ire, the horse ignored the man's commands...only to snatch her up and run away from the accursed house she had chosen to summon her servant at.

Terrified at first of being suddenly snatched up by a horse, her head stuck into the large cavern of its mouth, the sensation only seemed to be worse after feeling the wind whipping around the lower half of her body that hung out of the great beast's mouth. Yet after a few minutes of internally screaming at herself while trying to calm the hell down, so as to not perhaps encourage the horse to actually bite down on her, the magus began to relax more in the hose's mouth as she came to realize that this horse was actually doing the smartest thing right now. Getting the hell out of there without looking back. Her servant had seemingly wanted to fight in his literally near-dead-looking state, and she had for a moment actually wondered if a Command Seal would need to be used to get her giant man of a servant out of the area before they both were killed. Despite the fact the horse was being smarter than its still audibly-shouting rider, though, the smell of this beast's mouth was admittedly atrocious, she was covered in saliva from her head to her waist, and she had absolutely no idea where in the heck this horse was running off to.

Perhaps it would have been better if she had summoned the horse, though, now that she could entyertain the idea for a moment...

At any rate, she wanted to say something, something that at least perhaps the horse would hear. They needed to head into the woods, or something, to get away from the public eye. She had no idea where the horse was going through, though some impact she heard and blurs she could see from the cracks in the horse's mouth left her with the distinct feeling they were not running into the forest. If they were still in a residential area, then this would not be so good when it came to hiding the secret of magic and such from the public. The thought of exposing things because of a giant horse running through people's yards or something made her heart sink for a moment as the homunculus considered things.

"We need to head into the woods to get out of sight!" Lorelei tried to say aloud to the horse, hoping she could be understood.

Albeit, her words would likely not be heard nor even understood by her currently loony servant, likely sounding like a bunch of mumbling or indiscernible words along the lines of "mmph mmmmm mphmph!" or something of the sort. Then again, maybe the horse could hear from her from current position than Rider could.

....This day was really going to be a long one, wasn't it?

@Beloss@Moonlit Sonata

Alice de Arcobaleno
Alice's house, Eastern field

---

@Asuras

"You are... my Master, I presume?"

Alice stared up towards the silver figure towering over her, a smile unconsciously appearing on her face. She was admittedly shorter than what she would have liked, but he was simply huge.

"Yes, 'tis I, your Master, your summoner."

She could almost laugh at it all as the knight — there was no mistaking that religious fervor — started on his speech. The only reason she did not laugh long and hard was that it would be rude to interrupt someone while they were talking. But a knight, of all people! A strange sense of elation, surprise and mirth was rising in her, as she barely contained her own laughter. Her own knight in shining armor, one she would not have expected to summon. A stroke of luck, she would say, and if he was as grand as he made himself out to be, Alice now had quite a powerful tool at her disposal. She suspected he would not be averse to following her orders or tactics.

Alice did not simply fell into idle thoughts while the knight was speaking however, she was scanning over her Servant, noting every feature about him she could. His parameters, the way he moved, the way he talked, his armor, cloth, even what materials they could possibly be made of.

"Hmm, so be it. If you do not wish to give your name, then I will forgive it. For now." She gave a flourish of her own, spreading her arms wide to call and focus attention to her. "I am Alice Margerite Arcobaleno, heir to the Arcobaleno family, and the one who will claim the Grail for her own. Be prepared, Rider, I will work you to the bone to achieve that goal!"

A boastful speech to be sure, but she meant what she said truly, having already been prepared to devote everything she has on winning. Of course, there was less weight behind that boast coming from a slightly dusty girl in a basement filled with odds and ends that may or may not be broken.

"Well, that is how it is." She brushed off her hair from her face, smiling all the while. "Come now, make yourself useful while I put up a better barrier around the house and find out where they put one of my familiars."

Humming to herself, she dusted herself and went up the stairs, starting on drawing a few more simple bounded fields to put around the house as security.

Cao Cao suppressed a frown at the use of Mandarin. He knew the language, from what the Grail had imprinted into his mind, and of why the Chinese language was in the state it was now, thanks to the Manchus, but thought it ugly compared to the Chinese language of his time. Still, he couldn't fault his Master for his use of it. Mandarin might as well be the only Chinese language spoken now. Cantonese sounded even worse to Assassin's ears.

Cao Cao nodded at Hisoka, replying in Japanese as he fell to his knees and clasped his fist in his other hand, saluting the man.

"I hear and understand, Master. With this, the contract binding us is sealed. This War, and our respective wishes, shall be ours for the taking." He murmured quietly, before disappearing in a flash as he engaged his Presence Concealment. Assassin began to do as he was bid, searching the surrounding area for any sign of surveillance.

---

The pale steed of Rostam galloped on for a time, eating up the distance at a pace more suitable for an aircraft than a land bound animal. Though it made no special effort to conceal itself, the time of night combined with the simple pure speed of the prenatural courser would have made any witnesses hard pressed to say that they had gotten a good look at the enormous thing that had passed so quickly through their field of vision.

Several car accidents were had that night from the sight of the Phantasmal Beast, but when the cars were towed, the glass swept up and the police reports made, none of those who had caught a glimpse of the Rider and his mount said anything about what they had, for a terrible instant, thought they saw. It would not do to give the police reason to think that one had been drinking, or partaking of even more adventurous substances before losing control of the wheel.

In the end Rakhsh came to a stop deep within the woods which bordered the city of Fuyuki, slowing to a trot on the borders of a small meadow. It would have been hard to say if the gifted animal had heard Lorelei and understood her, or if it had merely desired to distance itself as much as possible from the strange alien landscape of the modern world before considering itself safe.

Rakhsh spat Lorelei out onto a tuft of grass, accompanied by a tremendous quantity of saliva, and then leaned over in the peculiar way that some horses do, spilling its injured rider onto the ground as gently as possible.

It wasn't very.

Rostam hit the dirt with a thud that seemed to make a ground shake, and lay prone on the soft forest floor. Any other Servant in such a state would have most likely reverted to spirit form as quickly as possible to ease their pain, but Rostam did not seem to be aware of his condition. He made no effort to move, simply smiling happily, chuckling to himself and looking up at the night sky with twinkling eyes. Blood was frothing and bubbling along the edges of his beard, but he made no move to wipe it away.

The horse stared at him for a few moments, seeming as if it were trying to determine if he would make a move to help himself. When he made none it gave him a sharp kick in the side, which elicited a grunt, but little else.

Whinnying, seemingly in irritation, the gargantuan stallion bit down on the dragonskin cloak and dragged the injured giant to the trunk of the nearest tree, where, with great difficulty it nudged and prodded him with its snout until it had propped him up with his back to the trunk. Then it trotted off, heading straight for the tall patches of grass that were sprouting from the nearby meadow, tossing its head and mane with the unmistakable air one one who thinks they are unappreciated.

Rostam didn't even bother to stop maintaining the creature, but continued to stare off into space, though his mad laughter had subsided somewhat, replaced with a more subdued sort of delirious good humor.

---

@Holy Grail

Once his Servant began to search the perimeter of his estate, Hisoka continued to create the proper bounded fields around his home, making a mental note to himself that the basement may serve a best place to set up a Workshop. After the bounded fields were all set, it may have taken him much of the day to prepare them, especially in regards to his quality of Magic Circuits, Hisoka awaited the results from his Servant back in the designated living room; an old, Japanese styled room with tatami flooring- most of the rooms in the farmhouse had such- and a rectangular chabudai table made for eating, complete with four zabutons, two at each long side of the table. There was a dusty, empty bookshelf at one end of the room, as well, one that Hisoka hoped to fill with a few books at some point.

Hisoka figured that after his Servant returned, they would begin to discuss their plans, both long-and-short-term. The ideas he had in mind were to await as the other Masters brought each other down, one by one. He had planned to create a few Familiars to scout major areas across Fuyuki, as well as around the areas of the four leylines, once his Workshop is complete. That way, he will have eyes and ears in the most important of places. Because of the nature of his Servant, however, he also considers using Reinforcement Magecraft on his Servant’s gear, in order to have more forms of defense against more direct combat. Of course, he could always try and reinforce his Servant directly, but Reinforcement on living things is something Hisoka hasn’t practiced so much. Still, though, it didn’t hurt to try in the long run…

Hisoka also had something prepared for his Servant once he returns. Something he had hoped his Servant would appreciate. It was a bottle of premium Shaoxing wine, something he picked up during his time in China locating his Servant’s relic. He also had two drinking bowls prepared, as well.

@Psyker Landshark

---

"Piercing through twelve obstacles?" Alex thought for a moment, trying to recall if he had ever heard of such a thing, but drew a blank. It sounded more like something one would expect from a bunker busting bomb, or some other terrifying modern piece of military equipment, than from a hero with a bow, no matter how saturated with Prana and Mystery he might be. "Sounds like quite a shot."

More importantly his Servant was one who had been lost at sea, and was now actually refusing to venture to far out onto it. It made little sense to him, for a Servant, even if they were to become lost at sea, it should have been a simple matter to assume spirit form and fly back to shore over the waves. Still, he supposed that every man has his phobia.

"I can promise you, in this day and age becoming lost at sea is no mean feat. I will not be venturing out as far as that, for I don't think this ship has enough fuel in it to take it beyond the range of easy rescue. Not in this part of the world. If it troubles you so much though, I can promise that I will only sail out as far as is necessary to loose sight of our pursuers. I don't see them following us in another boat, and if they do you should be able to sink it with no trouble no?"

Alex rose and gestured for his Servant to follow. Crossing though several corridors he came to a flight a steel stairs and ascended onto the deck. They were siting in harbor under a clear night sky. Around them in every direction a small fleet of other ships stat, bobing in their places. Some were more run down than The Scuttle itself, while others, great white yachts, shone pristine and beautiful in the moonlight.

"If a Clock Tower magi comes at us it will be in one of those." He said gesturing to the slick looking yatchs. "They will be marginally faster than us, but unenchanted. Could you sink them if it came to it?"

---

@Cu Chulainn

Archer listened to his Master, frowning at the mentioning of getting lost at sea. From his Master's words, had begun to believe his Master assumed he was afraid of the sea. Ridiculous! He willl have to be quick in correcting his ally. He cannot proceed with his Master believing he is afraid of something so vital to their plans!

"There will be no issues with our plans regarding the sea, I assure you! My legend tells of me and my triumphs against the God of the Sea time and time again! And besides, I won't let something so trivial stand in the way between us and the Grail."

It wasn't something so simple as a phobia, anyway...

Archer followed his Master as he was gestured towards. As they head abovedeck, he raises his hood up. He looks up to the clear skies for a brief moment, the stars not nearly as vibrant as they were in his time. He then looked to the yachts his Master was gesturing at, nodding as he looked it over.

"My Noble Phantasm can indeed pierce through its hull, yes. I've yet to find something my arrow cannot pierce, after all! If they were to attack us while we were in the sea, we will surely have an advantage. My Subversion skill will give us an edge over any fights, especially if they come for us. Since we plan to be in the sea, however, I will have to come up with something different than, say, a horse."

@Beloss

"I would gladly tell you my name, Master, were my sense of caution weaker. Though my knowledge of your skills as a mage have yet to be illuminated, I am not thusly saying I do not trust your abilities... However, I must ere' on the side of caution, that my name can hold power being withheld, even to my Master," Hugues said plainly. Sheathing his sword, the Rider followed suit after Alice up the stairs, causing a blatant creaking on the boards as he ascended. His armor nearly made it impossible to fit through the door frame.

Hugues made note of each of the bounded fields Alice began to set up, seemingly surmising both their power and functioning by mere witnessing. As he followed, something seemed to be on his mind, though he withheld any questioning on whatever it was.

"Elucidate me as to your current plan of action if you will, Master. Though I am familiar with the activities of the quest for the Grail, I await your own suggestion before I give my own. You are the leader here, too, after all," he said, disappearing into a spiritual form after nearly knocking over a piece of furniture in the house.

"Defending your home is a good course of action for now," Hugues added, "I'd advise we place some further from the premises. If you could but give me a map of the locale, I might afford you some placement suggestions. Were I a Caster, I would aid you in their creation, but alas..."