It seemed that at least for now she would get along well with this master of hers. Of course that might change once she gets to know him, its to early too determine if they work well together or not. She silently awaited her masters response. But something was wrong. Ody... I have a bad feeling about this. She let out an exasperated sigh, her instincts told her the same thing. Yeah I feel it too, nothing we can't handle though huh? I hope so. She turned away from her master without explanation, firmly placing herself between him and the door. That was when it reared it's ugly head. The door to the bar burst open and a disgusting creature made it's way into the place she had been summoned, the bar felt slightly tainted now. It seemed to speak without thinking, requesting her master to carry out his orders. She already had a bad taste in her mouth. The creature of a man seemed to be shocked, dropping his companion that he was carrying to the floor before moving forward. What has happened to him...? "Tch..." She merely clicked her tongue in annoyance at the servants question, ignoring it outright.

She looked past the servant to the man who had been dropped on the floor. Of course although it appeared she was ignoring the servant in front of her she was stupid enough to actually do that. He was a servant after all, ignoring his presence would be idiotic. A bar is not the most favourable of grounds for us. Athena spoke to him, of course it was something that need not have been told to Odysseus. He spoke directly to who he assumed was this servants master. "You have my sympathies... But I am afraid I must ask you to take your servant and leave this place." She spoke seriously and to the point, she had wanted to take a leisurely approach to this grail war and if that could somehow be salvaged then that would be her goal. The master had likely been dragged into the place against his own will. What a pain... Why does this always gotta happen to me? Damn. his momentary optimism from his summoning had been shattered, as always this was going to be much more difficult for him.

"Eh?"

The annoyance and incredulity smeared across Archer's face only seemed to amplify as this cosplayer failed to answer his question, and instead tried to kick him out of a bar. Tried to kick him out of a bar. His mind's eye opened, as though he was preparing himself to spank this cosplaying brat.

More to the point, who would even want to cosplay as his niece in the first place? That's a weird level of obsession, but that only narrowed down the list so much. There was that crazy inventor guy, for one. Uhh, the birdfucker, too. Maybe the snake or the spider if they were trying to be ironic? There were a few options.

...oh, wait.

Oh, wait.

A moment of clarity seemed to splay across Archer's face as he looked to the other Servant, comprehension dawning on him. He seemed to hold himself back from saying something, a herculean feat that would have been impossible had he been more drunk.

...instead, he shattered any illusion of himself as something other than a buffoon.

"Oh, I see what we got goin' on here. That hoor niece of mine found out I was here, so she sent you to make your own rival bar, huh? Classic. This is the foundin' of Athens all over again, innit? Tryin' to pull the ol' Flipadelphia on me? Tryin' to beat me with this cahkroach-infested dump?" -Why was he glaring at the cosplayer particularly harshly when he said 'cahkroach'?- "Well I ain't, gonna, take, that, lyin' down-"

As if playing some absurd game of hacky sack, Archer reached behind himself with a foot, scooped his Master up with his leg, and then tossed him up where he was caught by Archer and deposited back onto the Servant's shoulder, his eyes never once leaving the grotesque form of the cosplayer.

"Hey kid, looks like we're making my cave early. Can't let the hoor get the drop on us. Donnie's countin' on me."

Ignoring the confused remarks send to him by 'Donnie' after uttering those words, the absurd calamity that was Archer took his leave from the bar, Master in tow.

It was time to get to work.

The figure materializing was nothing short of dazzling. A tall man, bearing the armaments of antiquity, clad in armor clearly superior to anything the modern world had seen in ages and carrying a spear slung across his shoulders.

His figure — his essence — spoke of power and confidence. His features were handsome, sharp and strong, and his smile could have made even virtuous housewives blush. Yet, his eyes remained closed, as though basking in the feel of the artificial breeze and the cold on his skin. He took a deep breath he didn’t really need and —

“You sure summoned a good Servant, huh?” He laughed aloud as he boasted with well-practiced ease, his tone all but dripping with undeniable pride.

Yet, the youth seemed to be the sort that could absolutely back such attitude with skill and power. Rather, it was because he possessed both of those that he would show pride and laugh with confidence — because he possessed the proof to be called ‘a hero among heroes’ and he knew it.

Therefore, he must act the part.

He finally opened his eyes, genial — if arrogant — smile not leaving his features. “My class is Lancer, the name’s A—”

However, he trailed off right at the end, a confused expression overtaking his features as he stared at the air in front of him.

Then he looked to the left. And to the right. And, for good measure, he turned around, leaving his spear resting on his right shoulder as he used his free hand to scratch the back of his head. His brow furrowed, as though deep in thought, as he examined the area looking for something, but clearly not having much luck.

His eyes trailed downward for the first time once he turned around once again, slit pupils like those of a raptor meeting the blue of the girl, but his expression only became even more complicated as he took in her attire, an eyebrow rising.

“Uh. . .” He seemed to struggle to find something to say, as though he were not sure how to proceed — a far cry from the cocksure disposition he had showcased at first, and he squatted to be on eye-level with her.

“Um, say, little miss. . .” He began, looking over her shoulder every now and again. “Would you mind telling me where’s your dad? Or your mom, I suppose. . .whichever one called me, I mean.”

What was a kid doing there to begin with? Maybe they’d just botched it and he had appeared where he wasn’t supposed to? The circle did look correct though. . .so maybe they just weren’t in the shed, even if they were nearby. Yeah, that was probably it.

The kid, however, was still an oddity. What was her excuse for being here instead of his Master? The situation was fishy. She did look at him rather intently so maybe she. . .

As though a lightbulb turned on in his head, he suddenly realized the truth of the situation.

“Oh, if you want an autograph, it’s no problem, just take me to see your parents first.”

Yeah, that would explain it, at least — if she was here, she probably was related to his Master, possibly a heir, and what sort of child wouldn’t want to see a legendary hero in the flesh (for lack of a better term)? Still didn’t explain the aforementioned Master being missing, but he could grill them for answers when they were in front of him.

Or why the girl was dressed like that. The attire was weird, and he'd peg it as resembling some sort of military uniform of the time or other if the cup had given him the right knowledge, but was it really normal to dress kids up like that? Maybe she had some cute little costume party coming up? Maybe it was just some cute fancy?

At least he dearly hoped it was that sort of thing and that it wasn't because his Master was a weirdo. Ah, but he was getting sidetracked. . .

He put on his best smile.

“So, what do you say? I’ll uh. . .give you sweets if you do?”

He didn’t have those, but he was sure that could be fixed quickly enough once everything else was sorted out. And he would fix it. After all, it would not do to promise something and not fulfill it.

That was simply not how a hero acted, and he would feel terrible if he did that to a little girl besides.

@Phonic

---

He was reminiscing that only two months ago he had been summoned by a Homunculus. In order to accomplish the centuries old wishes of the Einzbern, their long but not forgotten desire. But that was all meaningless for him as the only that mattered was his master wishes, small or large. Whether it was a wish of a thousand years or that of the world itself. His goal was thus clear from the start, having no wish for himself aside from faithfully serving his master.

It has been two months living together with that child. Yet they were both going to brave a most dangerous journey that not even great heroes would be certain to survive.

Those times were certainly the calm before the storm but nevertherless quite enjoyable. The ending of such a peaceful period was the sign of a oncoming stor, for such is life, full of ups and down- peace and war.

As they arrived in the city he followed behind his master like the rest of her loyal servants. So this would be their base. He was always aware of their surrounding, with the sharp eyes of an archer seeing far and wide for possible enemies.

They finally arrived at their Japanese home, a compound of western architecture completely unfamiliar to that of the buildings of his past life. Karna however wasn’t an artist or someone who could truly appreciate the sights of good architecture.

Archer entered it alongside Sophia as she barked a few orders to the homunculus maids. He quickly noticed that her faced turned into a devilish smirk.

”Master, such a smirk is unsightly and stains your face. One should not derive pleasure from ordering those around you, for such is the mark of a lesser being, a scoundrel;” He said to her, in his ever blunt manner that made him so unlikeable, even in his myth it is said that he only ever had a single true friend.

[color=lightskyblue”I have at the very least not noticed a single enemy- though it’s possible but unlikely at this stage of the war for one to avoid my detection. And sure, I would love a cup of tea after this journey.”[/color] He spoke once more to his master, at this point there wasn’t much for him to do as he wasn’t known as a strategist so his input wasn’t particularly valuable when going through the information of their enemies.

With his superior senses, he of course heard the words she muttered but it wasn’t a sentiment that he could share. For not even fire elementals would be able to burn him, and so such minor heat wouldn’t even bother him.

@Crusader Lord

Before any response could be formulated, but just after Hamel’s mouth had opened in protest, a tidal wave of brackish water and muck had exploded under the sheer force released by Lancer’s mighty leap. Forced onto his back, as he shakily rose to his knees he sputtered out a stream of incoherent words along with the foul mixture that had entered every pore and orifice openly available.

Forcing the last of the swamp muck out, he took a shaky breath as he rose to full height.

It was tempting to simply use some magecraft to dry out and clean his clothing, but he had better self control in that regard, and besides, his workshop wasn’t too far away so he could simply grab a new change of clothing there and freshen up without a chance of exposing himself, no matter how unlikely it may be.

He would take no chance, not yet anyways. He had spent a week preparing an advantageous battlefield, but improvements could always be made.

An exaggerated sigh escaped the confines of his thoughts, and a grimace stretched across his visage as he was familiarized with the disgusting taste of decay.

Much improvements would need to be made, Lancer was a free spirit, and as tempting as it may be to spend a Command Spell to force upon him a more defensive strategy, Lancer was correct.

Hamel had indeed seen his servant’s skills, and there was no doubt within his mind that Lancer will indeed be fine.

There was a war to win, and though their preference in methodologies may differ, Hamel had absolute faith in Lancer’s ability to win the Holy Grail.

A quick check up on Lancer showed him peacefully spearing the local aquatic fauna in the Fuyuki river, something that assuaged Hamel’s nerves as he arrived at his destination.

Changing out of his ruined clothing into a new set of clothes after an extensive cleansing, Hamel had gingerly grasped what appeared to be a black stave, runes engraved into the surface of the polished wood.

Part of him cursed his foolishness for bringing in only a single mystic code, but it was too late now for regrets. Beside, it was matter of convenience rather than that of necessity.

But no matter.

Hamel grabbed his stave as he stormed out his abode, into Shinto. He was in needs of some supplies, and perhaps a drink will clear his head of worries.

@SageAge

He was about to announce himself to this valiant goddess before him, excitement and giddiness taking over, his nerves and doubts about this war were quickly turning to hope and ambition. With a servant like this, he was almost guaranteed a ticket to survival. Dressed in a shirt and tie, silk gloves on his hands and smart shoes on his feet, he really was the definition of a magus who was not cocky and regal. Many wore large cloaks and magnificent coats. But not him. That was a giveaway, besides the mask he looked like any normal guy around in the year 1888. "Ah my apologies! Allow me to introduce myself!"

Suddenly, he was interrupted. A small figure crashed into the bar, the bar he had specifically picked out to use as a base of operations ahd stocked up with his materials and chemicals. All of a sudden hope crumbled around him as he realised his fruitless efforts. They were found within minutes of summoning. The masked alchemist flinched and quickly turned to grab a flask from a table, folding it up and ready to pull the cork off viciously.

Then, as if she held power over this little man, Athena ordered him to remove himself from the premises. Looking at the pompadour man, he could tell he was this...thing's master. Narrowing his eyes Ludwig tried to get a gauge on this man. He'd never heard of a Japanese man with such a hair cut being involved with magecraft. Perhaps this man was not even a magus. What on earth was happening with this confounded war?? He stared at the two intruders and tightened his mask so that his mouth was completely sealed, walking towards the sake barrel slowly as he observed the situation, not saying a word as the small man insulted and absconded with impressive speed.

After this whole fiasco was over, wide eyed and his hair a mess from him grabbing his head, he turned to Athena with a start. "I-I am quite sorry! I had no idea how easy it was to be located with such powerful magic, I" finally he began to compose himself and adjusted his tie. "Where was I.." He opened his mask again and took another swig of alcohol. perhaps that would help this manic day be over with, and for them to get to know each other. "My name is Ludwig Von Gravenheim Krauste, I am an alchemist descending from Germany" He did his own little bow and looked around again.

"Forgive me for my mind, but I believe we may have to relocate..I would prefer the enemy was not at our doorstep"

Dawn, one of the perfect times to move suspicious items and individuals in and out of the port and since this was the nineteenth century, Customs weren't as heavily enforced as it will be in the near future. Several Americans in swanky suits and ties flood the harbor little by little to prevent suspicion by the local populace. Each one of them raised a hand to wave at the many who come to see them as alien, someone new, a potential friendly when little did they know that these men were dangerous and were all here for a different altogether. There were way too many "suits" just hanging by the Harbor, it's as if they own this place but the port hands don't seem to disappointed as they are tipped with items of value coming from the Land of the Free.



One such individual was looking at several crates being shipped out and with him are several "suits" standing guard. "Everything is in place, sir." One of the men said. Enzo Levito, the heir of the Levito Crime Family had arrived in Fuyuki and is here to cause havoc all for his family's wishes. With a great number of men, arms and resources at his disposal as well as the port under their ownership, this is no problem.

"Caster." The mafia boy called, turning to no one in particular, it seems that a quarter of the harbor had been under a Bounded Field that allowed the port hands to continue working without a care in the world. "Is this place suitable to create your Territory in? We could move elsewhere but it will take a while." It certainly is a nice view and it's far away from the competition which was in Miyama Town by the big bridge. Apparently he had summoned his Caster Servant already.

@Argonaut

Without even leaving the circle the servant seated herself, legs crossed, and immediately began to fiddle with the mouth of one of the many gourds that dangled heavily about her shoulders. A vulgar posture un-befitting of the beautiful form of a maiden, but perhaps not so shocking given those blood red horns.

Only after making herself comfortable did she speak, "So...You, a mere child, are my master? This is already so amusing." Her voice, soft and airy, quiet but heavy on the ear, it was certainly not the voice one would expect from her at first glance. Her questions where rhetorical. There was no eye contact nor apparent interest. Her focus didn't leave the vessel, which she had managed to uncork while she spoke.

She had existed in this world for less than a minute and already she was beginning to pour a drink. Not even so much as an introduction... Though she held the red lacquered bowl in her palm, now filled near to the brim with a clear liquid whose identity was betrayed by its aroma, out towards the boy.

The air was still, within Christopher’s workshop. It was a matter of course, since they were deep underground, without a touch of wind to stir the insides of the network of rooms. Sighing, Christopher rose, preparing himself for the ritual he was about to take part in.

It was fortunate indeed that he had arrived early on. His Seeker had spun like a pinwheel and glowed to near-incandescence when he arrived in Fuyuki, signifying that the Three Great Families had surely prepared the city for an immense battle thoroughly and long before the war would start. Thus, he took his luggage and walked to a place where the Seeker didn’t point to and glowed not, and set up shop. Looking around, he’d have to say that he didn’t do bad at all, all things considered. His oxhide map of Fuyuki was just about complete, thanks to the data gathered by his smaller constructs, the bounded fields were intact and continuously topped up by the rituals he had enacted, and his golems were patrolling and ready for action.

It was hardly comfortable, but well, there was no need for comfort in pursuing the art of magecraft. Christopher knew that fact well enough. And that was all that this war really was, truly. Something to advance magecraft. Something that many agreed with, what with the immense amount of magi flooding into the city with. A great many of his peers had arrived, surprisingly.
He’d do terrible, terrible things for a piano though.

Well. No need to wait any longer, the day had arrived.

Stretching and cracking his knuckles, Christopher checked over the summoning circle one more time. It was unnecessary, all things considered. It was as perfectly drawn as it was hours ago, when it was first made. Golems really were quite useful for doing tasks that needed to be done to the letter. Drawn with the heartsblood of a freshly slaughtered ox into the center of the room, it was as good as it was going to get, with his od running at its peak just about now-

Right. Time to get the show on the road.

He cut his thumb and completed the circle, and began to chant that fateful aria-


The circle began to glow an eerie, dark red. It shouldn’t be an error however, all possible variables were accounted for. The blood, probably.

He hoped he summoned a great hero. Losing the war wouldn’t be all that great of a tragedy, but it would be an outright disgrace to him and his family if he was taken out of the war far too quickly.

No time for extra thoughts. The die is cast.


@UndyingRegret

Pied Piper(Caster)

"I suppose it will suffice for now, under the circumstances of isolating ourselves from the other mages, this is a good hiding place for the starting base of our operation" The wind shifted and an ominous figure began to materialize behind the young mafia boy's back. The impure musk of a rodent's disease-ridden fur reek from his presence as the man dressed in strange colorful attire steps towards the light and reveals himself.

"I hope your people have no qualms in dealing with my familiar rats, cause I'll be producing them continuously to improve our odds in winning this holy grail war, Think of them as my own version of your black-suited guys, subordinates who will do my every command," He nonchalant said, casually playing a black rat on his hand and lets it scurries around the length of his arm and back to his coat.

"As for your request, I suppose I can make do of this place, This port is infested with a good variety of vermins which is the basic fundamental I need to create my false paradise." He said to Enzo, scratching his chin whilst his eyes shifted around the port, scanning where these pests are hiding around the area.

"Of course, if you want optimal results with my territory creation, I could use other living materials other than rats to make it better." Piper nonchalant suggest and turns his head toward the view of the city across the sea, implying human sacrifice as an alternative. He has done this before to get the results he wanted base on his infamous tale, to the Rat king, this is all a means to an end, whether capturing children or vermins alike.

"Forgive my bluntness for overstepping, Master Enzo, It's your call after all," Piper said, gesturing a curtsey, showing his sincere loyalty to his Master.

@Seirei No Hai

The thought of using children to fuel his territory? A tempting offer, a tempting offer indeed but with it comes risks and a whole lot of attention. Enzo waved his hand dismissively, he'd rather not bring too much attention to their entire group and while the locals see them as friendlies, it's better to keep them that way. The Japanese may be rustic but they will force a foreigner out of their lands if they have to and right now, Fuyuki isn't exactly "American Soil".

"Tempting offer Caster but I'd rather not use children to fuel whatever Territory you're bound to create, however... if there are any stragglers that are curious to check the port every now and then... it's not my responsibility." The heir said nonchalantly before motioning his fingers clockwise, as if telling his entourage to pack up. "I want everything positioned where the enemy least expects it and if my father has delivered the "prototype firearm" to me, call me immediately!" He said to one of them before walking towards what looks like an office building in front of the port bridge.

He turns back to Caster, his gloved hand on the doorknob. "Oh and I suppose you can get started. I'm sure the harbor workers won't mind a few rats here and there and if they do get suspicious, you can do whatever you want with them."

Ships are beginning to leave port, as sounded by the horns installed in them. This prompted his entire crew to work double time and the harbor hands just completely focused on work.

@Argonaut

It had barely been three hours since the two had arrived in Fuyuki. They had ventured from the boat, and made a beeline for the Temple, making sure to avoid the less populated areas in case an already prepared Master recognised them as seekers for the Grail. They hadn’t even had a chance to bathe from their long journey from England, and yet here they were about to go out and summon Heroes from the past. As much as Sera was love to have said she “couldn’t believe this was happening”, she very much could, and was all the more glad for it. Such an opportunity came once in a lifetime.

All that was left was to find a suitable location within the forest to summon their Servants, and the war would be in full swing. Sofia hadn’t been able to attain a Catalyst, which was the only thing that worried her. Her sheer lack of experience in Magecraft was a red light, and what kind of Servant she would summon was completely up in the air. On top of that, and while she hated to use the word, Sofia was… “defective”, as mages went - a low amount of circuits only made up for by the quality the Whitehall Family was beholden to. In these thoughts, Sera grasped the handle on the door and pulled it open, ruminating on what level of power Sofia could even handle.

And the moment she did, something appeared. It wasn’t standing there a second ago, nor did it approach randomly. It was waiting. Instinct took over and she leapt back, boosted by a burst of speed from an Uruz Rune. How had she not sensed a Servant nearby?! As quickly as she dodged backwards, the room became charged with a certain electricity, as though static was being built up around them, being charged and focused into a single point - Serafina. There was no way for her to take on a Servant one on one, but at the very least she could do was give Sofia a chance to run. The three Runes inscribed just below her back, the most powerful ones on her body, had flared to life - the Body of the Thunder God.

Upon seeing the visibly more prodigious mage of the two leap back and prepare for an attack, the Ruler-class servant did not even flinch in the face of things. Rather, his eyes coolly observed the woman’s actions, both of the women’s actions at that. Such was the power of a Ruler, even that of a servant, to unflinchingly look into the face of such actions without blinking back. Not that any servant with Magic Resistance had to worry about Magecraft to some degree or another.

And then they stopped.
”The… Ruler?” she paused for a second, releasing her stance and looking him over, ”You’re the… mediator of the war… Jesus, I thought someone had found us before we could even summon our Servants.” a drawn in breath found itself released from her tight lungs as she spoke, relieving a tiny amount of tension that had built up inside her.

Slowly and carefully, Sofia peeked from behind Serafina, a look of consideration on her face ”A catalyst?” Sofia peered at Sera, unsure if they should answer Ruler truthfully.

Sera looked back towards her suitcase, then the girl behind her.
”My sister doesn’t have a Catalyst. I, however, have brought with me a sword once belonging to the great Trojan hero, Hector - they are the Servant I seek to summon.” she explained, before addressing the cautious look Sofia gave her, ”It’s fine, sis. The Ruler exists to maintain the war - they don’t belong to anyone and they don’t want the Grail.” her gaze then drew back to Longinus, with a slightly suspicious glance, ”We can trust them.”

Such suspicious eyes, but Ruler could understand the look and the sentiment. Though mages, a cautious and dark breed as they could be, were seemingly easily startled into actions. Were he a more mischievous sort, he might have found this “entertaining”, though instead had let his words sink in instead of taking further action. Were this woman to attack one of the Rulers of this war, he would’ve had to debate action, potential punishment since he had informed them of his status immediately after appearing. Though it was not like he blamed the one for powering up an attack, ready to attack and ask questions later if need be. This city itself was to become a massive battleground, after all.

“I bear no desire for the Grail, but i will enforce its rules and codes accordingly,” the Saint said, charismatic tone filled with a sense of reassurance, whether it worked or not to allay the sisters’ suspicions and worries it did not matter to him despite his good intentions.

From there, Sera walked back to the suitcase, and pulled the cloth and sword out from the bottom.
”If the Ruler found us, other people might have found us too… as defensive as the Temple is we don’t exactly have time to scout around. We’ll do the summoning immediately, sis; bring your bag.” sword in hand she stood from the floor, and approached the door once again, ”Say, Ruler, while you’re here, why not watch our summoning? Then you can find out the Servant my sister here summons, as well.”

“I must check in with the others, so I cannot stay I’m afraid. But I shall give you both two warnings for preparing to summon your servants. First, take to the woods north of the temple’s location for your summoning, where none shall be watching you,” the Lesser Ruler said, pushing off of the wall before his eyes glanced upon the catalyst the older of the two female magi still under it’s cloth shield, until he looked away and back towards her, “Second….take great care with just whom that catalyst could call forth, and whom your sister might also call forth as well as a result of this. This is all I shall give, and good luck in your pursuit of the Grail.”

With that, the saint’s form disappeared once more from view, entering spiritual form before he swiftly left the premises of the temple as quickly as he had come.

Sofia slowly let her guard down as ruler disappeared, walking in front of Sera and facing her. “Are we gonna listen to him? I thought we wouldn’t waste any more time.”

Sera waited for a few moments as the Saint took his leave, waiting by the door looking over the sword she held. The Ruler was, in theory, an impartial adviser to the Masters of the War, and the upholder of the rules established for them. Whatever information he gave was more than likely valuable, however his cryptic, final message left much to be desired. What did he mean, “Be careful”? Was the sword she held not close enough to her chosen Hero to summon them?

Nonsense. She had picked the Catalyst herself, and made sure of its past. The sword in cloth mere millimetres from her skin was one owned by Hector, Prince of Troy. There was no doubt in that fact. Maybe the warning was simply one of “Be careful who you both summon, as they may end up at odds.” If that was the case, all she could do was pray that would not be so. Their sibling coalition would break down quickly, or they’d be forced to use their precious Command Seals.

”Yeah, we’ll listen to him. North of the Temple… sounds good enough to me.” she left out a small sigh, relieving some more of the still pent up tension from the encounter, then looked back to her sister, with a small smile, ”Ready to go?”

Sofia confidently smiled at Serafina, taking a few steps ahead of her before spinning on her heels. “I’ve been ready for a while.” She span once more for good measure, before skipping through the halls, heading north, her actions lacking the dread a typical person might have expressed on the advent of a war, “We don’t have all day sis, pick up the pace!”

The only indication of a response Sera gave was a small smile to the back of her sister, as she pranced along the halls to the exit of the compound. Watching her, one might have thought things were ordinary: just two siblings staying at the residence of family friends. Any indication that a War of any kind was lost in the moment, as she followed on behind her.
”Don’t get too far away; we both know how bad you are with directions.”



The two had made their way North from the Temple, past the lake that bordered the compound and into the forest, a short ways down the mountain. The Anti-Spirit Bounded Field surrounding it made for a great location, especially within the Grail War, but Sera wasn’t explicitly sure how it would effect the Servant summoning; if she was right, only those crossing the Boundary Line would be affected, though she didn’t have the firmest of grasps on how exactly the field operated.

They had found a small clearing, mostly flat despite the incline of the mountain. Two large mats lay spread out across the ground, weighted with nearby debris to keep them from folding up or blowing away in any morning breezes that might have come by. The process had been somewhat arduous, but after a little while, they were finished.

Two Summoning Circles sat atop the mats. Sera had little information on more complex rituals, but if the circle seemed complex to her, she couldn’t imagine how they looked to Sofia. That said, she was curious just how such a simple array - a single circle, nevermind its complexities - could be used to bring about a Heroic Spirit, one with the power to destroy buildings and modern structures in seconds. From what she understood of the process, the Grail did most of the work, but even then, she found herself intrigued by the concept.

To the North of one, on a makeshift altar, was her chosen Catalyst: a bright, sharp blade, glinting in the morning light, its incredible edge obvious even at a distance. Sera had taken great care and effort to restore the blade to its once and former glory, and she had to say she was pleased with the outcome. It was a blade worthy of belonging to a famous Hero.

”Alright then, Sophie…” her gaze trailed over to her sister, stood before her own Summoning Circle, though without a Catalyst to speak of, ”You go first. Remember how we practised? Stand outside the circle, dominant hand outstretched with your palm open, using your weaker hand to support it. Do you remember the incantation?”

“Of course; I did my homework. Geez Sera, you don’t have to fret so much over me, i’ll be just fine.” Sofia pouted, stretching her left hand as she should. With a deep breath she relaxed her body, and focused her mind.



Serafina watched closely as her sister began the ritual, as the circle before her began to glow, and as the wind around them picked up in speed. The circle didn’t just glow, though - instead its light spilled out from the lines drawn on the mat to fill every space around them, igniting the nearby wood in a glorious display, drowning out even the sunlight. A tremendous gale picked up around them, shaking the trees to their roots, forcing their hair to whip back and force, and drag down leaves from above them to create a rain of amber foliage.

The volatility of the Ritual was far from what she was expecting. Considering the Grail did most of the work, she almost anticipated it to be relatively calm, but this? This was on an entirely different level. From the center of the circle, and all around it, it felt like a hurricane, that would rip the two from their positions and drag them into the depths of whatever hole the Grail was opening to bring about a Heroic Spirit.

And then everything subsided; the wind stopped, the light died out, and the Ritual came to a close. Except one detail was wrong with the picture. The circle was empty. No Heroic Spirit, no deformed amalgamation of body parts resembling an eldritch abhorrence - there was simply nothing there. As quickly as she began to think, Sera looked over towards her sister, and specifically her hand.

The red marks were there. Her Command Seals, designating her as a Master in the Holy Grail War. Had the Summoning worked then? Where was the Servant? What was going on? And then an idea struck her.
”Hey Sophie?” she walked up and wrapped her arm around her shoulder, ”You might wanna go find your Servant. They probably knew it was you who summoned them and ran away~”

In response, all that Sofia could do was blink out of sheer confusion. “W-what? You’re kidding me!? They can do that?” And then it dawned on her, causing the single most extreme pout she ever released. “Owh ha...ha, you're such a comedian. Well I’ll just go and find my servant then. Go ahead and summon yours, I’ll be back soon.” With a single wave she turned around and ran towards the back of the temple, a small chuckle escaping her lips.

Of course what she said was a complete lie. At the very least, she didn’t want her sister to feel like she had failed at something else, but in truth, she didn’t have a clue as to what caused the error in the Summoning. Sofia had Command Seals, so there was no doubt a Servant had successfully been Summoned by her, but… what had caused them to spawn in an entirely different location? And where, anyway, were they?!

She turned back towards her own circle, eyeing the sword just a short distance from it. There wasn’t much she could do, except chalk it down to Sofia’s general ineptitude in Magecraft. Maybe her faulty Circuits just caused an issue of some kind? At this point, all she was doing was spit-balling. Without a clear indication of what the problem was, there was no way to diagnose the issue. All that was left to do, in that case, was Summon her own Servant.

Mimicking her sisters previous position, she stood face on to the circle, right hand outstretched, with her left hand supporting. She had drilled her own chant into her head since she decided to partake in the War, and now she was finally getting a chance to use it. A shot of nervous excitement flooded through her, despite her typical calm disposition, and she began to speak.

”For the essence, silver and steel.
The archduke of contracts, and stone for the foundation.
A wall shall rise against the falling winds,
and the four cardinal gates shall close.
Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate.

Know this now:
Under me you shall serve, and to you I pledge my fate
Submit yourself to the call of the Holy grail and answer,
If you would give yourself to this truth and reason.

This oath I swear to you:
Of the Heavens I shall attain every value;
Over Hell, and the evils within, I shall hold every dominion.

Attended by the three words of power, and from the Seventh Heaven,
come forth from the ring of restraint, protector of the holy balance!”

Once again, a violent whirlwind ripped through the forest, tearing at the girls clothes, and forcing her to shield herself against it. The glorious and incandescent glow blinded her for a brief moment, before everything went still again, and her eyes were able to open, only to be greeted by a sight she never thought she would see. The kind of sight she dreaded to think of seeing.

Nothing. No Servant. Her eyes flicked to her and, observing the Command Spells she possessed, and then back to the circle. The same thing had happened. Had the Summoning failed? Had she messed up? Just where the hell was her Servant?! Where was Sofia’s?! Something was desperately wrong with what had happened, but she couldn’t for the life of her figure it out. There had to be some kind of explanation, there just had to be.

Her mind raced with different possibilities in the few moments she had to stand and ponder the situation. It wasn’t a case of the talent of the Magus, since neither of their Servants had Summoned in their respective circles. It couldn’t be due to their incantations, either; they had used different ones. So what was it? The Catalysts didn’t change anything, so was it environmental?

And then it hit her. The Anti-Spirit Bounded Field. Trying to Summon a Spirit into the Bounded Field was the exact same as having them cross it. The Field would reject their Spiritual Core, and the Summoning wouldn’t function properly, so the Grail had to place them outside of the Field. For example… in the Temple. An explosion and scream from behind her, back towards the temple, confirmed that hypothesis for her.

That was far from good.

Multiple scenarios flashed through Sera’s mind as she ran towards the circle, grabbing the sword before turning back to face the way they had come. Vitality and vigour flushed her system on top of the adrenaline that had begun to pump through her veins, as a multitude of Uruz Runes sprung to life across her body. She crouched down low, digging into the dirt of the forest, before leaping off, kicking up dust as she sped through the woods at an unnatural, magic enhanced speed.

It didn’t even take half a minute to arrive at her destination, and her eyes locked onto the scene. Sofia was stood outside the wall of the Temple, looking in through a demolished section of the structure, at two figures. One wore a huge set of armour, and rose into the sky at at least seven feet tall, gripping a shield and a spear, which was currently locked with the second figure. But she couldn’t tell who the second figure was. The only visible thing they wore was a cloak, but even looking at them, Sera found difficult, as though they weren’t really there at all. Their hands, too, appeared clutched around something, though nothing was present, and with it they were blocking the spear.

Servants. They must have been, and from the looks of things one was a Berserker. That was… Her Berserker. She had summoned a Berserker..? But that was…
”That’s not Hector…” she said aloud, to no one in particular, as the behemoth of a man raised his shield to strike the other figure across the head.

Yet in a nimble move, the hooded figure dodged to the side and ran out the building, moving past Sofia and Serafina in a flash, as if to avoid them and the monks getting involved.

The two Servants moved in a flash, their speed faster than their anxious eyesight could process as they chased each other round the outskirts of the compound. The moment Sera saw the hooded figure run towards them, though, she took initiative, and grabbed her sister by the hand, dragging her to the side to get away from them.

“That hooded person called me master, I think it’s my servant.” Sofia anxiously said, before running after the two servants. ”But as soon as she did, that beast attacked us; I only barely dodged it with the help of my servant.“ Sofia looked behind her to see if Sera was following her, before asking, “But where’s your servant?”

Despite her preconceptions, if the hooded figure really did belong to Sofia, then there was no doubt in the matter.
”That there, is my Servant. The Berserker Class Servant… Evidently not Hector, I guess... “ it was obvious that Serafina was lost in thought, her sentences disjointed and uncertain as she considered possibilities as to who she Summoned, how they had been Summoned, and everything in between, ”we, um… we need to calm him down, like now.”

As she spoke, the giant Servant leapt past them, rushing towards the hooded figure to strike at them, spear held close and just behind the shield for added protection against any swings.

As Berserker moved in, the hooded figure stopped and faced him, wielding the invisible weapon and bracing for the impact. But upon hearing Serafinas' words, she lost her attention, even if for only a split-second; it caused her to lose her footing, and although she managed to block the attack, Berserkers' overwhelming strength send her flying several feet against a tree.

The tree splintered on impact, sending shards of bark across the field as Berserker prepared for another strike, launching himself at the tree to catch the winded and mysterious figure before him. He gripped the spear once again, charging towards the tree, leaving small craters in the dirt as he ran.

And already could Serafina hear the sounds of the Monks waking up, no doubt to check what the sounds had been. Things were getting worse by the second: people would find the Servants, would find her and Sofia, and to top it all off Berserker was going to kill the Servant of her own sister. She glanced around, unsure what exactly to do, until an idea struck her.

”Of course, the Bounded Field.” she turned back Sofia, with something of a smile on her face, ”Sophie, I need you to get your Servant and lure Berserker through the Bounded Field. It’ll weaken them both, and I can get him to calm down. Got it?”

“Uhh, yeah sure.” Sofia was a bit confused and concerned, but trusted her sister; whatever she had in mind was going to work. “Servant! Go south until you reach a barrier. Moving through it will weaken Berserker!”

As Sofia spoke, her servant had just barely dodged Berserkers' last attack . She gave a nod to Sofia before zigzagging south between the trees.

As the unknown Servant fled, Berserker kept up his charge, smashing through the tree in a single blow. As it fell, he gave chase to the person, ignoring the obliterated tree as it collapsed to the ground with a massive crash. The chase didn’t take too long, though, as the two breached the Bounded Field. In a split second the effects hit the both of them, dropping their parameters by several stages.

It was clear Berserker wasn’t happy with that. His grip on the spear tightened, and the ground below his feet collapsed further into craters. At first, the tip of the spear seemed to crackle slightly, like some small electrical discharge, but in the next second the thing lit up a strange, incandescent blue ripple, which pulsated down the shaft and up his arm, which hoisted the spear above his head, as though prepared to throw it.

The moment the two Servants had crossed the field, though, Sera had run in with them, commanding Sofia to stay behind. She locked eyes with her Servant, and his spear, and the realisation hit her. That was a Noble Phantasm being prepared. At first she had plans to solve things more peacefully, but it appeared she had no choice left. Her fists clenched, and she raised her right hand into the air, her palm facing towards her Servant.

”In the name of Serafina Whitehall, and through the powers bestowed upon my by Command Seal, I order you, Berserker, to calm down immediately!”

A wave of red spread out from her glowing Command Seals, striking Berserker from behind, immediately halting his spear throw, and forcing his assault to end. She lowered her hand, only to watch the two circles in the center of the tattoo like emblem dissipate into her skin, leaving behind an ugly, purple bruise as the only evidence they ever existed.



Soon after, Sofia caught up to Serafina, cautiously observing Berserker. “Did it work?”

“It seems so.” The hooded figure spoke, a somewhat gentle woman’s voice emanating from under the cowl. She took a few steps towards Berserker, watching him closely, and then walked towards Sofia and Serafina. “That was reckless, you have already wasted a command spell, to protect a servant not your own no less...Though I admire your dedication to your...sister?”

Serafina sighed, looking towards her sister as she ran up to her. Then her eyes trailed on the nameless Servant that approached her, and began to criticise her decision.
”The Grail gives you information of the War, right?” she started, half glaring at the figure behind the cloak, ”Then you should understand that Berserkers are people clouded by insanity. They don’t use rational logic. That, coupled with the fact that the Anti-Spirit Bounded Field messed up our Summoning, means I don’t have time to wait until our connection stabilises and I can order him around.”

She started walking towards her own Servant, looking him over as she did so.
”Your cloak… it’s a Noble Phantasm, right?” she looked back, activating her Masters Clairvoyance, only to find it useless. ”I can’t even sense you as a Servant, let alone read your parameters… so that cloak can mask your presence entirely?” though before the person could reply, she continued, ”And let’s get this straight. Me and my sister are in this war, together. Which means you answer to both of us. This is our coalition, and you’re gonna help us win this war. You and… Berserker, are the Combat Force, while me and Sophie here are the Backup Force. Comprende?”

“Come on sis, don’t antagonise her, she’s a heroic spirit.” She clasped her hands together as she looked at the servant. “I’m sorry, my sister intends well.” She looked at the hood closer, but not even her pure eyes of the moon could spot anything. “So uhm, who are you?”

“You can call me Saber.” she said as she lowered the cowl of the hood, revealing her face, which looked upon Berserker and Sera. “For as long as Sofia is your ally, so am I. But a coalition goes both ways, and you are not the only one with a wish. While I know us servants rely on our masters to exist in this world, it would not harm you to listen to us occasionally; We are heroic spirits for a reason, after all.” As she spoke, there was a proud undertone in her voice, albeit with a bit of cockiness.

Saber then put the cowl back on, hiding her face again, though this time, Sera and Sofia could identify her clearly. “The hood of Kismet, it completely masks the wearers identity by replacing it with a fictional one; however, it has no effect on those who know what it does, like you do now.” She lowered the cowl once more. “But rest assured, it is not my only weapon.” She said as she tapped the scabbard tied around her waist.

Serafina nodded slowly to each of the things the Servant said, listening intently as she spoke, likely due to the side effects of the still lingering Adrenaline.
”A cloak that can mask the existence of a Servant… I can make use of that.” she said, turning back to Berserker, ”And of course, I will listen to you. Your input will be valuable. And rest assured, you’ll get your wish, as long as you win the… Grail..?”

Her voice trailed off, only to be drowned out by the sound of… buzzing. Her gaze drifted towards the sound, only to see a group of winged insects flying towards them, wielding a sealed envelope between them. She had heard of the Matou’s odd magic before, however witnessing it first hand was something else entirely. As they came to her, Sera took hold of the envelope, and the insects dispersed, no doubt returning to the Matou Mansion.

She broke the seal, and swiftly opened it, taking care to read it thoroughly.
”We’re in luck.” she said, smiling, and looking towards Sofia, ”We’ve been invited to tea.” but as quickly as she spoke, she realised something, ”Christ, okay, um, the Monks are all awake now. We’re gotta get back to our room, Sophie. Can you, like… put Saber into Spirit Form or something?”

“Owh no, the monks! Uhmm uhh yeah I think I can.” Sofia hastily looked at Saber, who was already dissipating. “What about Berserker?”

”It might take a little bit before Berserker can… our connection hasn’t fully established. Let’s just head back, get out of this Bounded Field, and see what we can do, okay? We’ve gotta get ready for half past two, including washing.” she looked back towards the direction they summoned their Servants, and then back to Sofia, ”You go ahead, okay? I’m gonna get our stuff, then meet you back at the room.” and then with a short wave, she started walking, Berserker in tow, back the way she had come.

As his Servant, Archer, he said to call him, brought him around Fuyuki, Gin had a lapse in consciousness just moments before. Humans generally don't travel at the speeds Servants are capable of, and Gin is no exception. Even if this were a fraction of how fast his Servant is capable of moving, it's still too fast for the Yakuza enforcer to handle. In his stunned state, Gin began to think more about his Servant.

Chiron, huh? Wasn't he a god? Nice, I've got a god! And an Archer, too! But why does he look like that... and why doesn't he have-

---

When Gin had finally come to, he had awakened to a rather empty bar. Gin could have sworn they were heading to somewhere more... booming. Rubbing his head, he looked up from the ground, seeing Archer, in front of him, talking to two foreigners; one with a weird mask, and another... a woman. The woman was the first to move to Gin, asking him to take his own Servant and leave. Sensing something was up with that woman Archer was referring to as his...- what, horse niece? Is that a centaur thing?- he started to sense the magical energy in the air, with a lot of it pouring from the masked man. This could only mean one thing...

Gin was face to face with the first of his many opponents in this war!

Before he could spring up and give a piece of his own mind to his enemies, Archer scooped him back up on his shoulder, once again, unceremoniously leaving after a few colorful parting words. In the end, it was a good decision to leave at once before the first fight started. Gin wasn't prepared for a battle, not without more of his ofuda ready. Before they had left, however, Gin made sure to state his own parting words, something to intimidate them from messing with his city.

---

As they depart, Gin started to get more used to being slung over Archer's shoulder, attempting to communicate. Unfortunately, with all the air blasting his face as they jump from building to building, all this translates to is a mess of incoherent yelling. This also meant that Gin would be unable to use a command spell, as well, mostly out of fear of being dropped onto his head again and risking ruining his perfect hair... Instead, Gin decides to use his link with his Servant to communicate telepathically.

Your cave?! Where are you possibly going to put that at?! We need to get back to the place I summoned you in! The foreigners are already out and about and I need to mobilize some of my men before they start doing some funny business! And I still haven't prepared my workshop, yet, either! Ya better pick a good place for this cave of yours, and it better not be somewhere stupid, like under the bridge, or somethin'...

And so in a progressively smokier room, a demon listened to a young man talk. To have returned to her land once more was not an entirely welcome occasion. On the one hand, the land of Japan was her home, but it was also the place she hated the most. A comfortable seething at her core, a familiar feeling that honed the mind, focused it to a point.

Yes, she hated Japan. Were she in the position to do so, she would sink Kyushu and eat up the bloated bodies. She would crack the pillars that supported the land itself, and host a vile revelry in the heart of the capital -- Tokyo these days. How times change. Her dwelling on Ooeyama could hardly have been considered to have been apart of Japan, as it were. So prevalent were Oni in that isolated little mountain paradise of theirs, it could have been called distinct from even the texture of the world.

An otherworldly realm, where things ceased being ‘human’.

And, as she appraised the companions of the human, she recognized what they were.

Even in this era, her kind were not completely lost. While they had diluted their blood with that of humanity in order to survive -- a plan which she could still recall the inception of in the wake of her defeat -- there were still ‘Oni’ alive and well in the world.

The young man before her proved that much. There was promise there. An ambition which burned all those who sought to fly beside him, human or otherwise. A passionate avarice, pure and simple.

With a quiet consideration, her eyes shut to better hear his words, bare legs coming to fold over one another, pressing a hand against her knee, her interest captured by the mention of the enemy Masters in particular. She hummed, rubbing her lips against the pipe.

“You plan ahead. This is good. I can see many more in your position being aimless, but this is not the case. My abilities and your own, they are not without their compatibility, I suppose. Here...”

As if possessed, strands of her long, golden hair raised up, moving in the air as if they were appendages of their own will. She reached up lethargically, twirling a few around her finger, before forcibly tugging them out. She held them out, clenched in her crimson hand, grip like iron as the sun-coloured strands of hair dangled out of her grip. “Take these. They should be of some use to your work, I assume. In the meanwhile, I shall act as your eyes and survey our opposition further, as my Class would dictate I do. Unlike undead animals infused with power, I am more than capable of reaching those unreachable places. Should you feel in danger, hesitate not to recall me with your marks of power.”

Tilting her head to the side, she let a vicious little smirk spread across her face, a fang protruding from her lip.

“It would not do us well if we were to lose you so soon, Master.”

---

It went without saying that Ana was excited to summon basically anything, and the sight of the decadently posed creature before him did nothing to change that. Crimson eyes widened with a childlike awe at his Servant’s lazy entrance, nothing as grand as a boisterous announcement or subdued greeting.

Dismissive, whimsical and outright uncaring!

It was…It was…

So cool!

Sure, he loved his heroes as much as the next young man, but there was something great about characters like the one before him -- well, he wouldn’t consider her a character from that point onwards. That was a bit reductive, if not outright insulting, and he’d hate to be disrespectful to the tiny yet undeniably powerful package of Mystery before him. That’d be just rude, and also probably life threatening.

“Mh, I did! Although, I’m not really a child so much as I am very young. Important distinction! I have my memories partitioned very cleanly, and I’m no longer in the ‘child’ section! I’m in the teenager section now, you know!” he near enough rambled, speaking a bit quicker than he usually did. Years of control over his bodily mannerisms shattered by the sight of one legend, and it wasn’t even because she was hardly wearing anything.

If anything, he seemed completely accepting of that fact, as if it were completely normal. Nearly naked little demon girl? Completely normal.

“Uh, wait. I’m Anaxstolas, but you can just call me Ana! I should have said that from the start, my bad. Welcome back to the world, I guess! And welcome to my Lucus Workshop!”

Ana opened up his arms, gesturing around him to the little slice of paradise he had created within his week in Fuyuki. The name ‘Lucus’ was not inappropriate. A sacred grove in the tongue of the Romans, a natural temple to the splendor of the world and the gods that ruled it, merely tended to by man but not made by them.

That same beauty was reflected in the Workshop, if it could be called that. The summoning circle sat in an opening in the grove, the juices of the smashed pomegranate bleeding into the grass by that point, creating a pattern of red around the Servant. Dotted around the opening were a variety of trees, some local, others less so, but each of them could be felt breathing Magical Energy like a furnace. At the far end of the opening, about as long and wide as it needed to be in order to seem ‘comfy’ and contain all the equipment needed for Ana to work, was a patch of trees, each growing a strange variety of fruits, with brushes at their base doing similarly so for berries.

At the center sat what was clearly a lynchpin, a piece of arboreal life that almost seemed to glow beneath the bark, standing a little bit taller than the other healthy, thriving trees. Although nothing grew from it, its branches spread out far enough to intertwine with the canopy of the forest.

But, perhaps most importantly for the Servant, the area was a veritable well of Magical Energy.

“It’s not my best work, but a week isn’t really… you know, ‘masterpiece time’. But it’ll get better, I swear! If you want any fruit, then you can have all you want! I know I have.”

He was very open, to say the least. Not so easily cowed by the sight of a Servant, despite the discrepancy between them. It could have been called stupidity, but it was more akin to an absence of a particular brand of human reason.

Once he finally noticed the offered bowl, having been caught up in his own talking, he squat down, blinking at the bowl, the smell rushing up his nose and hitting him like a brink, causing him to scrunch up his expression.

But, it was clear that this Servant liked their booze. And so, if he was going to be having a good ‘ol time with them, he was going to embrace that.

Anaxstolas, legendary lightweight of Europe, embracing booze.

And so the boy made one of the dumbest decisions of his life.

He accepted sake from Shuten Douji, and ended up face planting the grass for it.

A pristine start.

@Breo

“You sure summoned a good Servant, huh?” He laughed aloud as he boasted with well-practiced ease, his tone all but dripping with undeniable pride.

An impressive figure stood before Benita.

A being of power.

A being of confidence.

...A being of pride.

To someone like Benita, whom of which had hoped upon her luck to summon a Servant fitting of herself, rather dull and plain, who could be used more as an auxiliary for the war rather than as a traditional Servant. But to her surprise the man standing before her, his armor shining brighter than the sun; his being a shining example of the capabilities humans were possible to ascend to.

Compare that to a shell of someone else, Benita might have looked rather out of place compared to this man, whose pride in his ability seemed greater than his own “massively” tall body that towered over her by almost thirty-five centimeters.

A hero without compare.

To someone like Benita, whom of which had been a failure, she dreaded these summonings. That is why she was somewhat relieved when the catalyst she was supposed to use for her summoning was mysteriously intercepted, and why she hoped without a catalyst her hero would be more similar to herself in their performance; perhaps a Caster or Assassin, or even a Berserker she could direct at people to complete her will.

But given the polearm the Servant embedded into the ground while he seemed to search for something, she presumed him to be of the “Lancer” class. A knight-class Servant on the same level as Saber and Archer; but even if that isn’t what she wanted, it is what she received. And she would have to continue with the war, as it was her mission Getting along with her Servant was inconsequential, especially considering the marks that had appeared on the backside of her hand.

At least that was her original concern.

… But

His mannerisms.

His statements.

His attitude.

Did he really think she was not his Master? Was there an issue with the summoning? Benita was sure that she had not messed up the ritual. After all, it was explained to her by the leader of this mission before she had even left from Europe. It was impossible, in Benita’s mind, to mess up such a simple ritual that even someone could accidentally properly complete.

At least, that is what she believed until he said a certain phrase

“Um, say, little miss. . .” He began, looking over her shoulder every now and again. “Would you mind telling me where’s your dad? Or your mom, I suppose. . .whichever one called me, I mean.”

It was at that moment where Benita finally realized why her Servant was acting so off. Not only did he not imprint the memory of his summoner, herself, into his mind as the person who would be his Master and master in this war. Not only did he insult her ability as a magus. Not only did he call her little.

But he also called her a child.

Compared to the issue with “Wild Miller”, and the insulting string of statements made by Lancer, Benita, while considering herself rather collected as an individual (lies), had become infatuated by his statements. So much so that she could no longer contain her anger. She considered for a moment the Command Spells upon her hand, of which forming themselves into an eagle. However, she stopped herself from going that far. It was a simple slight on his part. If he would continue this annoyance fester any longer, it was likely that the small homunculus would release her full wraith, but at the very least it was early along in time to rectify this issue without resorting to such methods.

But not so late as to not resort to another method of treating her “familiar”. Lowering herself and soon bouncing up from her lowered position, in a full-bodied headbutt of sorts, Benita attempted to strike at her opponent.

And yet…

“I am not a child! How dare you speak to your Master like thi-”

Her head simply hit Achilles’ armor, and a wave of pain shot up through her entire body.

So she attempted to lower herself due to this pain but on the way down she had bit her tongue, which caused her to both shriek and sob slightly.

And in addition to this, biting her tongue caused her balance to slip, beginning to fall face forward.

Poor, poor, Benita.

As her master's face lit up and he began to ramble on Berserker only smiled. He certainly was a chatterbox, that much was for certain. Still, that unabashed excitement and utter lack of fear was incredibly interesting. He may lack certain qualities that Berserker considered to be ideal in a companion that enthusiasm was certainly admirable... Though he was ignoring the most generous gift offered him in favor of prattling on.

As he continued to talk she nmerely shrugged and began to withdraw the offered sake, to partake of it herself, when he suddenly decided it would be prudent to accept the offer... and down it all in one go. She smiled as he tipped over and laughed when he hit the dirt face-first. "Fufufu... My master certainly is adorably naive, isn't he? To take so readily to the hospitality of a demon..."

She shifted her position, reclining back on her elbow now and resting her feet on the now floored Magus' back. "It's no good to be too eager, even if it's endearing... Still you make quite a first impression boy, even if your bones are too soft by half." Again as she spoke she poured, though there was no offer this time. She tilted the bowl back slowly as it met her lips draining it gradually to the last drop, a pace that exhibited no particular rush but also knew no hesitation or rest. This was her nature surmised in a simple gesture, to indulge leisurely but completely.

Only once it was empty did she speak again, though yet again as her mouth busied itself with words her hands busied themselves with pouring so that she might punctuate her speech properly. "I am most often called me Shuten Douji... You also may call me this. Am I to call you by your name or do you prefer Master? Lord? Darling? Husband perhaps?" It was hard to tell if she was mocking him, such a voice was made for things like flattery but the conveyance of sincerity was an afterthought at most.

When she finished her second bowl of sake she shook him, gently, with the sole of her foot on his back. "...Are you alright boy?" That almost condescendingly sweet voice didn't make her sound particularly concerned. Regardless of sincerity where concern was concerned his status as Master was clearly an afterthought.

@Art of Fun

---

The hulking figure stood atop the fortress tower was a mess of airy black silks under a wide brimmed hat, further obscured by the beaded fringe around its edges that hung halfway to the ground. Its sight unseeing gazed out over the manor below, and beyond that the stone maze that marked it's domain for over a mile in every direction. Three days, one could only imagine what would have been possible if they could have started sooner. Still, this was enough.

A single monstrous hand extended from under the amorphous mound of obscuring cloth, a giant mass of charcoal black, shiny and smoot with fresh lacquer, with its open palm turned skyward. No sooner had it opened than a wooden sparrow covered in brass feathers alighted upon its newfound perch, with dead eyes and a tiny sliver of inky paper for a tongue. A tongue that quickly began to unravel, inch after inch, foot after foot, a string of numbers and symbols- most black, some red, that denoted the familiars findings. Once the tape began to run blank the hand closed, crushing the little mechanical bird into little more than dust. A few brass feathers fluttered down towards the labyrinth below, thin as razors and lost on the wind.

Several stories below, in front of a roaring fireplace, sat a little old lady gray as could be in an arm chair that could easily fit three of her. In her lap, a wooden sparrow with little feathers of brass and a wooden crank on it's back. She closed her eyes, and in the back of her brain the familiar and comforting sound of wood thudding against wood echoed. One. Two. Three twists. The sparrow stirred to life before leaping airborn and darting out the window.

The old woman pointed a gnarled and knobby hand at the open window, in the sparrows wake. "Look at him go Gatekeeper, he's off to find you someone to play with." A rich and vibrant voice, full of jolly laughter. "Now be a dear and close the window for Baba, I've not been outside in so long I'm liable to catch cold."

Outside of...?

@ssw

Honestly, he had thought the first meeting to be going rather smoothly, all considered. He did not think he had said anything wrong, and he had hopefully looked approachable enough for the girl to trust him — he knew he could cut the awe-inspiring figure, and the last thing he needed was to intimidate her, but it all had seemed to be fine.

At least until he saw her droop down slightly, and he caught a flash of something red on her hand.

. . .Ah.

Well, this was awkward, but hopefully his Master would forgive him, right? She would understand his confusion, right? She wouldn’t take it too badly, right?

After all, what was a Servant to do when confronted by the same situation? He honestly could not be blamed for not believing a little girl was to be his Master for a war — and wasn’t that a sobering thought — but at least he had come off gentle enough their their relationship would likely be good regardless, though it still begged the question: where were her parents?

So immersed he was in his own thoughts that he almost didn’t notice his Master jumping toward him, clearly intending to cause harm. As it was, the situation only made him stare down in befuddlement as she appeared to move in slow motion.

“I am not a child! How dare you speak to your Master like thi-”

He almost cringed at the resounding ‘clang’ as her head met the armor, and wondered if his Master wouldn’t kill herself before an enemy could even try. Then the panic settled in as he hurried to catch her when she started to fall forward, letting go of his spear.

It must have made for quite the scene. Despite his brave disposition that could stare down any other hero with a smile and a laugh, his face looked more akin to a deer caught in headlights — did that expression even exist yet? Oh, whatever — as he looked around wildly, not knowing what to do.

Put him in front of an enemy army and he would fight to the last breath. Ask him to whip people into shape and he could do that, too. Survival in the wild? No problem. But caring for a child that had just now hurt herself?

He almost wished to be getting mud thrown in his face in those beaches again, instead.

“Ah, damnit, damnit, this was never covered in our lessons. . .”

Think, think, what would Chiron do? Perhaps it was telling that the first person to come to mind was that centaur instead of his father or his mother, but the fact remained that he was the best at everything, and that included raising children, so in Lancer’s mind, ‘copy Teacher’ was never a bad move.

Alright, she had said she was not a child and she had lashed out about that — not entirely unexpected behavior, and something he himself had done when he was still a kid. Children did not like being reminded of their age in most cases — or rather, they thought being eight was the same as being a man grown.

So.

“I apologize Master,” He stammered out, perhaps more rushed than he should while trying to emulate his teacher’s gentle tone. “Of course, you are not. Uhh. . .what do you say we go look for some ice?”

Try to placate her by agreeing while looking for something to help with her head before it swelled. Following which —

“Would you mind pointing me to your —“ He very nearly bit his tongue to avoid saying ‘parents’, lest he incur the girl’s wrath and she hurt herself again. “ —house? Living arrangements here?”

Right, get her there, and then they could discuss more, try to keep her from getting angsty by promising something — not candy though, he had a feeling he would only aggravate the situation if he did that, since he’d come off as treating her like a child again.

Where was Teacher when you needed him?! He’d have diffused the situation entirely with just a few words and a smile. Hell, by this point, the girl would have loved him!

“And then we can talk about the current situation. Sound good?”

That ought to do it, or at least placate her as much as possible. He felt so sorry for Chiron. Was this what dealing with children entailed? The centaur had done it for lifetimes, but he could barely handle a minute of it. His respect for his old teacher swelled once more.

Ah, focus, focus, you can think about that later, for now try to fix this. At least she had not begun doing that, and Lancer hoped she never would lest she wanted to end him.

Please, please, please, do not cry, I am not equipped to deal with crying little girls.

@Phonic

Troublesome. Incredibly, indescribably troublesome. That garbage niece had the audacity to try and pull another Athens on him, just like she did with that poor sod Ares. Well, old Chiron wasn't going to be caught with his pants down. Not like the time with those nymphs.

Ah, those nymphs...

No, no, focus. He had to focus on determining where to establish his cave. That was the decision that could make or break his war.

Let's see. Open the mind's eye, factor in farsight, astrological attributes, connection to nature, Donnie who was still yelling at him, aaand...

"Wha..."

Impossible.

That was impossible. The third Age of Gods had ended. The Age of Heroes was reaching its death knell. Humanity knows too much and has culled too much of the world’s mystery as a result. This is the turning point into the age of merely mundane men, so something like that should have been impossible.

Then, how was it there? How was it that something so impossible was there?

Skidding to a halt after returning to the safe house that he had been summoned in, Archer moved to set his Master down, but now with a caution that was at complete odds with how he'd treated the magus since being summoned.

His head turned up and down, looking at the magus...or rather, looking through him. As if there was something the man before him could bring about, something enough to jar even one of Archer's temperament to action.

Yes, if that could come to pass, then he could not take this as trivially as he had planned. He had planned to merely drink the week away and then fade back into nothingness, but if the promise of something like that laid out of reach...

...well, putting some effort into winning wouldn't hurt.

"Alright, kid. Rally ya boys, do what ya gotta do. Don't botha makin' ya workshop till my cave's up though, it'll be a waste. When ya ready, then we'll get back ta searchin'."

A feral glint appeared in his eyes, a demonstration of that bestial nature that laid at the core of Divine Spirit Chiron.

"We'll be combin' this city for the best spot. An' if there's this bridge ya were talkin' about, it'll be the first stop."

---

"Really? Planning and preparing this much feels pretty standard. If the enemy Masters haven't done around this much, then that's all the better. Just means we're not dealing with competitors so much as 'targets'."

The thickening haze of smoke in the room was admittedly harder to deal with by the minute. Evan himself had never been much for smoking, not seeing it as worth the monetary tradeoff, which made dealing with it in this closed expanse a bit of a hindrance. At the same time, it simply wasn't worth the effort of putting up a shield to protect him from the smoke, so the result was his visible efforts to keep himself from breaking into a coughing fit every minute or so.

Well, regardless, evaluating the situation did undoubtedly put this pair at a disadvantage. Evan was likely in the bottom half of magi in this war where ranks were concerned, and on top of that, he'd summoned an Assassin, and moreover a "monster", something particularly vulnerable to "heroes".

At least on paper, then, the pair could be considered underdogs, at an absolute disadvantage.

Ah well, who didn't like an underdog anyway?

The magus froze up for a moment as the Assassin offered him some strands of her hair, recovering from his surprise an instant later and taking the offering with a nod. Truth be told, he'd considered the idea from the moment that Assassin had given her name, but hadn't expected her to offer that up so quickly. Well, he wasn't about to complain.

"Yeah, got it. I don't want to risk sending you out into those areas just yet, though. Better to deal with that first bit of preparation I mentioned first, just to shore everything up here. That shouldn't take long, though, and once it's wrapped up we can get to surveillance."

"Those three families I mentioned are the obvious picks, and there are a good amount of workshops that have been set up over the past week, so we can talk about priority targets when we get there. There are a couple of place I'm a bit wary of that might be better to avoid until we're more prepared, as well."

After speaking, he gave a halfhearted shrug that contrasted horribly with the rest of his tone and posture.

"Of course, if you've got any suggestions, let me know."

“Mmm,” Troilus said, nodding enthusiastically as he walked over to the window. He stared through it as the bird flew away, watching its mechanical movements with curiosity. Soon enough, it was beyond the walls and out of view, and Troilus, stretching only a little, reached up and closed the window.

Even though those walls that the two of them had created were ‘Troy’, it didn’t feel that way to Troilus. Without the bustling activity of the city, without the bickering of his brothers or the smell of horses, even if it was a home, it wasn’t the city he had known in life. Even if this room was nice, the walls were dangerous.

And, well, was attacking people with traps really the sort of thing a hero should be doing?

Well, Baba was smart, so it was probably fine. Though it would be nice if he could ask his big brother. Thinking about the possibility, he thought aloud, “I wonder if big brother was also summoned?” He asked, his voice light and cheerful. “Ah, he would definitely win, he’s the strongest!”

Although, all Troilus wanted to do after all the work making the fortress was spend some time relaxing. Sitting down on the floor, he picked up one of Baba’s clockwork toys and fiddled with it, watching its intricate movements. The simple pleasure on Troilus’ face at the thing’s movement was a truly adorable thing to see. Well, it would certainly keep him distracted for a some time.

“Hey Baba,” he said, absentmindedly, still looking at the device. “Do you think we’ll see an amazing horse? If there’s Riders, there should be horses, right?”

@Froppy

"You're here!" The man who spoke was fat. Like a slug that learned to walk simply because he had become too obsess and lumpy to roll. Instead he spawned arms, and wore a terrible tweed suit and... A little crown on his head as if he was king of the world. Disgusting, especially in comparison to the young man in his twenties who stood there in the most fashionable garb he could find.
"Of course I'm here, Caspar." The youth said to the fat man he had left in charge of this estate. He had many. Almost known of which could be directly connected to him. Instead, they almost all came out in the name of other individuals, like Caspar. People he had helped, in exchange for their things. Which they would manage while he was away. It had taken the youth the better part of a century to start, and since then things had become easier, if a tad harder to keep under the radar when it directly involved magi.
"Well, lord Kaveh, your family estate has been well taken care of. The manor of such a fine lord like yourself is cleaned thoroughly once every three months and I myself oversee the-" Etc. Xerxes Kaveh ignored him for the most part as he walked past trophy shelves and other such desirableness. Some of it was said to be cursed, others blessed. He kept it all. Greed, that was his problem.
"And the shipments from the lesser holdings in Iran have been brought in, correct?" Xerxes asked, an eyebrow raised and a hand reaching back to swish the long locks of his braided hair. These were lesser treasures to him, and ones he expected to be using in the coming war. That is if the person he planned to summon for the war was who would arrive. But he had made sure of it. This building after all was directly ontop of a powerful place in history, and a layline for such powers. "I'll be going into the lower temple rooms to prepare for the ritual, you just make sure the really valuable stuff is... Not here when I get back."
"Of course my lord! Your wishes are of course to be granted!" The fat man bowed, in such a way that his belly dragged along the floor before he returned to a full on standing position. "I shall have everything ready! Don't you fret! Not one iota of worry! Your loyal servant shall have fulfilled these task by the time you are back up those stairs! While it'll be like they were never here in the" Etc.

Xerxes drowned him out, and turned to a singular door. Adjusting the silk scarf around his neck, and the jewelry that rested on his arms and neck, he stepped towards the door, and opened it. Traveling down a flight of stairs, older than anything in the house proper, he took in the air that had become stale with age. This had been part of an older castle. where Persian rulers had laid claim to their lands. Kings like Darius the 3rd. That was who Xerxes had set his eyes upon. A great ruler. A powerful ruler who despite how history viewed him to some degree was still beloved in Persia. That was where his power would be drawn from. That is where Xerxes set things into motion.

Caspar was a talented little slug. Despite his toadie nature he had at one point shown promise to be a great mage. He cast that aside because he was lazy, but when Xerxes needed something set up for something, Caspar was a cut above all others. The summoning circle was perfect. The right blood markings. The right kind of mystical properties and a single item he had worked hard through far too many channels to acquire. An axe, smeared in blood and preserved. Some claimed that such a weapon could only have belonged to a powerful ruler. But Xerxes knew it wasn't just any powerful ruler, but the powerful ruler. A man viewed by even the mighty foreign king of Iskander as a worthy foe and prize to be claimed. The mighty Darius.

"Let silver and steel be the essence." He began the ritual, gazing down at the catalyst he had managed to procure. It was something he had spent a great deal of time and investment in, but he needed it to participate in the war. Be it great or small, he was fine with that.




____________________________________________________________________________________
Present Day - Miyama District - Northern Section

The docks had been a mess. And yet, here he was, in Fuyuki city, the heart of the Holy Grail War. Still in its infancy. So many infant mages eager to be kings and queens of the world. Or somehow just make a claim for the world. It was all so... Humorous.
"This is the place, right?" Xerxes said, speaking to a fairly unremarkable man. His eyes drifted to the building before him, a fairly simple residence. It was no estate, or even some major land development. It was fine. He only needed the place for a day or two, and then he could move on. After all, he needed a powerful ally, and that meant he had to get involved in the war instead of sitting back and waiting for others to find him. Because being found wasn't going to help him.
"Well, it's only got two rooms, but there is a basement. That should be big enough for what you need, right?" The man said, rather monotone in what he had to say.
"Oh, it's more than enough. I just need to get off the streets for a night or two. I thankful you've been so accommodating."
"The pleasure is mine." The man said, trudging along and opening the door.
"Well yes, it is." Xerxes whispered, adjusting the long coat he wore. And for a brief moment, a golden scepter could be seen dangling from his hip. But he had some boxes to move into the house, and that was a quick affair if there was one. The basement seemed to be a sort of underground library. Nothing he cared to read, but it was at least atmospheric enough for what he had in mind. The first box he opened was densely stuffed with packing material, all designed to protect the beautiful cup he pulled from the depths. Water poured from another flask, and into the depths.

"Now, lets see... The masters I need to think about... Are..." Ludwig Von Gravenheim Krauste. Yes, he knew the name. A good start. But there were others, like Anastasia Aleksandrovna Voronin. What an utterly complex name. Hamel Della Astrologia was another choice, but that man... Well, he had choices didn't he? He didn't dare go the Matous or higher families yet. After all, they would probably have the pick of desperate allies. No... He had to go lower, and build his way up over time. After all, once his power was known, he could ally with anybody he desired.
"Well, Berserker, we should go meet some other masters at our earliest opportunity. Don't you think?" He said, glancing into the cup, and seeing all he needed to know. For there was Ludwig, reflected in the chalice for all to see. "I think I know where to find him."