_{December 10th... Morning 7AM}

The forecast called for rain tonight. Of course it did. Of course it would. And when it rained, the snow would come. They had all expected it. And it would delay any flights into the state, or out of it once the war had begun. But that was still several hours away, and it was a busy day for plotting, meetings, and possibly starting the war off on a strong foot.

As the sun rose, the light bathed over the flat fields, and the roads, and the houses. Bathing the waking people in the light. And from a spot, the war's lone observer watched. From a field, then the roof of a house, and so on, Ruler watched the people coming in. Be it plane, or train, or by automobile. They would all come, and they would fight for their dreams. It was so strange that they'd fight so violently for such a thing. But Ruler couldn't judge. Instead, as a flask of water touched Ruler's lips, they had only one thought.

Fight. Fight because that is what humanity does best.

And with that, the flask found itself back on Ruler's hip. A bronze shine, battered and beaten by scorch marks, but weathered by ice and cold, could be clearly seen in the early morning light. Then... It, and Ruler, were gone.
________________________________________________________________________


"Are the preparations made?"
Arthur didn't need a response. He already knew the answer. Since in the two weeks he'd had since he arrived at Fort Owen. The soldiers that flanked either side of him had been prepped for what was going to happen. They didn't know everything. But they didn't need to. They just had to be there. What would make sure he won the war was not an army at his beck and call, but his servant, and the tactics he had cut his teeth on years ago.
"Of course. But, what about your... Associate?" The man to his right said, stumbling to keep pace with the man in near black. "We're aware you're in charge, but are you sure they can accomplish what you want?"
"Are you suggesting my servant isn't willing or able to win this war?" Arthru's eyes focused on the man, who shrunk back. There was something about all this that didn't settle right with some of the military. How they had expected nothing, until a group of men had shown up, declaring themselves agents of the government, and that they were at war with a terrorist cell.
"I meant nothing of the sort. But... They've been on the observation deck, and it's weirding out some of the others." The soldier finished, and with a sigh, Arthur had to admit that even he had been surprised by his own servant.

"Very well, I will check in with them." There was a moment where he dragged his hands through his hair, and made a turn. Stairs ahead, he began to ascend, and in time, he reached the tower. It was empty, with the windows open so cold morning air escaped into the room. Outside the window the last visages of the moon could be seen, and Arthur leaned out the window.
"You know, we can't start until the first night, right? You're getting a bit ahead of yourself with all this pre-emptive scouting." His head in his arms as he looked out, and his words directed at his servant, who at moment was probably occupying the roof, and posing dramatically.

Frederica Bernstein
Rich District, Old Mansion.

---

Long before the sun even rose up, they worked quickly, partly to avoid peering eyes, and partly because they just arrived and needed to do it as quickly as possible before the sun rose up. Or before anyone knocked down their door and stabbed Frederica.

A large mansion, complete with a large garden, a complete heated indoor pool, and even a grand hall for any sort of future reception. Its age only seemed to increase its grandeur, its quiet air of dignity, that was certainly marred by the rather harried looking new owner.

"Master, do not fret so much. A young lady shouldn't puff and fret like that." A tall woman, wearing a stereotypical french maid outfit spoke, as Rika looked frantically through a box. Blue eyes gazed with amusement through black hair as Rika inevitably stumbled onto the ground in her haste. The woman seemed to bear not even a trace of fatigue.

"Matilda? W-what are you even doing in that outfit?" Rika stood up, looking around. The mages that followed her was quickly setting up the place, some placing enchanted stones to make a bounded field, some making traps, and even some that was just unpacking their things into the mansion. "This is no time for jokes. I, the current Bernstein Library, has been chosen to participate in a Grail War. I don't even want to be in this!"

"Then, why don't you quit? I'm sure the mediator wo-"

"Then I'd be ridiculed forever as a coward! No, I'll fight to stay alive. I'll keep the library alive even if I have to die!"

Matilda dearly wanted to point out the library would die with her if she did that, but refrained. Rika was just too distraught to even be thinking of anything else right now.



In the empty wine cellar, an impromptu circle was made, as Frederica took in a deep breath.

By now, parts of the mansion were already cleaned up and ready for use, and a few of them had already went out to buy the food and wine needed for a ritual, as well as looking for an intelligent young boy to serve as their helper during that.

Sighing, she started the chant for the servant summoning. A bareboned ritual, considering the Grail itself will handle most of the actual summoning. But... she did have a trump for this, something that made her confident enough to join the war. A piece of Tristan's sword, one of the Knight of the Round. An archer peerless during his time, he should be strong enough to take down any opponents they face in this war. Rika could almost feel sorry for her oppositions.

"Then, those who would heed my words, my orders, to be my sword, my shield, answer my call, from the rings of restraints!"

---

Andrei stepped off the ramp that rose from the ground below and into the UFO interior. Behind him, the ramp folded up to become part of the floor, sealing the cabin with a hiss. "The boundary field's up, but I'm not going out there again without a sweater!" As he spoke, he walked, and he reacclimatized to the heated indoor air of the ship. His words were undercut by the occasional beep from the control panel and the constant hummmm of the saucer's core.

"I could go get you one, but the townspeople would probably beat me to death before I made it to the store." The metal chair at the other end of the cabin spun around, revealing a human skeleton.

...No, that wasn't right. The eye sockets that should have been holes into an empty skull were instead indentations about half an inch deep, painted black. The joints of its limbs were very obviously artificial, and from the left side, the screws that held it together could all be seen.

Moreover, a price tag hung from its ribcage.

"Mind you, they could only kill me because I don't have a-"

"If I get you a gun, you're not gonna be using it to attack random townspeople" Andrei could see the sentient halloween decoration's trigger finger twitching restlessly. What kind of wraith had he stuck inside those plastic bones?

"Right. Yes, sir. As long as we're hiding here, I'm sure I won't be in a shootout anyway."

They were parked on a small island at the center of a duck pond that was bereft of ducks. It had a pair of benches, a small plaque built into the ground explaining how a tree had been planted in someone's memory, and a white bridge that led to the bulk of the park. Thanks to Andrei's efforts from a moment ago, civilians would not notice the large metal disc dominating the island, and any who tried to go there would suddenly decide to enjoy a lovely day somewhere else.

"Still, just because it's a good hiding place doesn't mean it's not pretty lame." Andrei threw himself down onto a couch. The entire surrounding area seemed to hold traces of ancient and advanced technology, but had been largely converted into a modern-day living space. "But I'm stuck indoors because of this icy Montana weather!"

"I think it's normal for this area and time of year." With Morgan sitting in a chair next to the couch while Andrei lay down, the situation looked like some kind of joke about a psychiatrist.

"Good point, Boney Bob!"

"It's Agent Morgan."

"That's a stupid name."

"You came up with it literally six days ago!"

"...Whatever. If everyone around here was expecting it to be this cold, maybe we could fly around until we see some people with coats on, then with the tractor beam..."

"Why don't you just summon your Servant and have them get you a sweater?"

A look of supreme realization appeared on Andrei's face. "Oh, yeah. Good point."

---

He was a quick worker once he got started, so in fifteen minutes, the complex circle for the summoning ritual had been drawn in bright red paint on the UFO floor.

"You think the air recycler is gonna filter out those fumes? Agent Morgan commented idly from his position splayed out on the pile of furniture that had been moved to make space for the ritual.

"I mean it's super high tech, so probably, right?" Andrei sniffed the air, which seemed, if anything, less paint-scented than when he had first opened the can. Probably a good sign. "Okay! Boney- um, Agent Morgan! Please step outside!"

"Can I ask why, first?"

"Servants are heroes, after all!" Andrei started speaking as though he would have said the same thing even if the skeleton had made to walk silently outside. "And any self-respecting hero would attack a low-level monster like a skeleton on sight! With that in mind, I'll explain your situation to them, and then you can come in!"

"I'll ignore that you just called the way you very intentionally made me 'my situation', but is that really true about heroes?" He was lowering the ramp to head outside either way. It wasn't like he could disobey the captain's orders, after all.

"I dunno. It made sense in my head."

The skeleton was already outside.

As the ramp raised itself back into the floor, the three landing legs of the UFO also folded in. There was a slight thump as the full weight of the saucer landed on the well-kept park grass, connecting to the land.

With the hiss of the cabin being sealed, Andrei turned to the circle. Now that he had caught a whiff of outside air, the paint fume smell was a lot more noticeable, but he was still pretty sure it was getting filtered out.

He took a deep breath, and began the incantation-



Nothing happened.

The magical energy did not react, and command seals were nowhere to be found.

Andrei sighed.

"Grail. Have you every heard of the Rule of Threes?"

A slight reaction. The circle began to glow.

"It means that if I have to say something three times, I'll be very disappointed!"

With a slight burning sensation, some sort of bruise began to appear on his hand.

"I know you've got your magic words you like to hear when people summon Servants, but it's important to try new things! Understand?!"

Light began to pour forth from the circle.

The air was crisp, and humid to the taste; the sun hugged low against the horizon, bathing the world in its incandescent embrace.
Looking from above, the city would seem almost tranquil in its morning bustle.
All the little people, living their simple lives.
Little did they know that today-
"Caster. This is the place."
-a menace arrives in Blue Fields.

Historical District / Blue Fields Museum of Anthropology

---

She sure looks like she's having fun. Honestly, this is completely unnecessary. Mina's internal dialogue was accompanied by no external indication of her train of thought. She prowled onward silently, her gait efficient and balanced at the civilian's left side. Her eyes scanned their surroundings carefully, not lingering any significant amount of time on any one thing. No signs of other civilians. Are cities normally like this? While she had been the leader for most of the way here, she prudently decided to follow her Servant's lead once they arrived in town. Ironically, this young girl summoned from the Age of Gods had more knowledge of the modern era than her. This had been strangely amusing to Caster, although Mina didn't really get the joke.

Mina looks up at the Museum's somewhat intimidating front entrance, a grand set of glass double doors leading into what was largely a concrete-based structure. She counted two stories, not quite enough for their purposes, but it would have to do. What was important wasn't above, but below them. She could feel it. The ground beneath her was screaming silently at how it was mangled, defiled and sullied beyond belief. The souls of the dead, disturbed and mocked; their grudges seeped into the ground like poison, filling the air with the fumes of their hatred.

It felt just like home.

As they enter the doors and approach the smiling young woman at the reception desk, Mina smiles and opens her briefcạ̴̣̐s̸̳̖͝e̸̡̱̔*̵̮̅͋ͅ^̸̟̱̓&̵̖͚̂̈́@̷̲̪̿̕!̸̛̙͚̄$̷̰͇̔̓#̸̗̒$̸̲̠̇̾^̷̫͛*̶̥͋(̶͉̪͒)̷̛͇(̸̰͘ͅ$̷͉̔%̴̍ͅ!̷̱̓#̷͍͂$̶͔̾#̶̗͐͝@̵͉̎̕$̷̩̖͌%̸̜̜̇$̶͎̬͊&̷̲̔^̴͈̂̈́(̵͕́͌&̸̗͖̒*̸̦̬͗@̵̝̾́#̸͍̦̾̎%̷̧͈͊̎^̴̭̔̀&̸̭̳̈́͠%̶̲̽$̴̜̓͝#̵̫̾̈́@̶̤̍͜$̴̰̊%̶̦͙̎&̴͔͂̓*̵̹̎̒(̵͖̈́̕)̸̤̓ͅ*̷̲̦͐̒&̴̣̀̎͜&̷̼́͝*̶̢͍̄͝$̴̛͕!̵̫̔͌(̴̠̤̽&̴͓̔@̸̯̯̿̾*̶̡̌(̸͉̹̉^̷̛̖@̴̺̳͛#̸͖̓͜$̴̟̈́̃&̸̭͊͊*̸̨͑͐*̸̪̙̌^̸̥̠̃͐#̵̱̔$̵̰̯̅%̶͍̿^̶̖̽@̴̦̑̈͜#̷̫͑̋!̸͖̜̌̚#̷̖̈͠%̴̠̈̃$̷̝̏͘^̴̨͔̂&̴̯̗̄͂#̸͖̂%̶͉͓̕^̷̗͜͠@̴̯̿̚$̴̨̀̔͜$̵̡̳́̋#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗@̵̛̠͚͑#̵̛̪̯̂$̵̲̘̀%̷̟̭͋@̷͚̊͂#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ$̸͕̮̎%̶͈͖͠$̴̰̊%̶̦͙̎&̴͔͂̓*̵̹̎̒(̵͖̈́̕)̸̤̓ͅ*̷̲̦͐̒&̴̣̀̎͜&̷̼́͝*̶̢͍̄͝$̴̛͕!̵̫̔͌(̴̠̤̽&̴͓̔@̸̯̯̿̾*̶̡̌(̸͉̹̉^̷̛̖@̴̺̳͛#̸͖̓͜$̴̟̈́̃&̸̭͊͊*̸̨͑͐*̸̪̙̌^̸̥̠̃͐#̵̱̔$̵̰̯̅%̶͍̿^̶̖̽@̴̦̑̈͜#̷̫͑̋!̸͖̜̌̚#̷̖̈͠%̴̠̈̃$̷̝̏͘^̴̨͔̂&̴̯̗̄͂#̸͖̂%̶͉͓̕^̷̗͜͠@̴̯̿̚$̴̨̀̔͜$̵̡̳́̋#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ$̸͕̮̎%̶͈͖͠$̴̰̊%̶̦͙̎&̴͔͂̓*̵̹̎̒(̵͖̈́̕)̸̤̓ͅ*̷̲̦͐̒&̴̣̀̎͜&̷̼́͝*̶̢͍̄͝$̴̛͕!̵̫̔͌(̴̠̤̽&̴͓̔@̸̯̯̿̾*̶̡̌#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ!̸̛̙͚̄$̷̰͇̔̓#̸̗̒$̸̲̠̇̾^̷̫͛*̶̥͋(̶͉̪͒)̷̛͇(̸̰͘ͅ$̷͉̔%̴̍ͅ!̷̱̓#̷͍͂$̶͔̾#̶̗͐͝@̵͉̎̕$̷̩̖͌%̸̜̜̇$̶͎̬͊&̷̲̔^̴͈̂̈́(̵͕́͌#̷̫͑̋!̸͖̜̌̚#̷̖̈͠%̴̠̈̃$̷̝̏͘^̴̨͔̂&̴̯̗̄͂#̸͖̂%̶͉͓̕^̷̗͜͠@̴̯̿̚$̴̨̀̔͜$̵̡̳́̋#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗@̵̛̠͚͑#̵̛̪̯̂$̵̲̘̀%̷̟̭͋@̷͚̊͂#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ$̸͕̮̎%̶͈͖͠$̴̰̊%̶̦͙̎&̴͔͂̓*̵̹̎̒(̵͖̈́̕)̸̤̓ͅ*̷̲̦͐̒&̴̣̀̎͜&̷̼́͝*̶̢͍̄͝$̴̛͕!̵̫̔͌(̴̠̤̽&̴͓̔@̸̯̯̿̾*̶̡̌(̸͉̹̉^̷̛̖@̴̺̳͛#̸͖̓͜$̴̟̈́̃&̸̭͊͊*̸̨͑͐*̸̪̙̌^̸̥̠̃͐#̵̱̔$̵̰̯̅%̶͍̿^̶̖̽@̴̦̑̈͜#̷̫͑̋!̸͖̜̌̚#̷̖̈͠%̴̠̈̃$̷̝̏͘^̴̨͔̂&̴̯̗̄͂#̸͖̂%̶͉͓̕^̷̗͜͠@̴̯̿̚$̴̨̀̔͜$̵̡̳́̋#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ$̸͕̮̎%̶͈͖͠$̴̰̊%̶̦͙̎&̴͔͂̓*̵̹̎̒(̵͖̈́̕)̸̤̓ͅ*̷̲̦͐̒&̴̣̀̎͜&̷̼́͝*̶̢͍̄͝$̴̛͕!̵̫̔͌(̴̠̤̽&̴͓̔@̸̯̯̿̾*̶̡̌#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ!̸̛̙͚̄$̷̰͇̔̓#̸̗̒$̸̲̠̇̾^̷̫͛*̶̥͋(̶͉̪͒)̷̛͇(̸̰͘ͅ$̷͉̔%̴̍ͅ!̷̱̓$̵̰̯̅%̶͍̿^̶̖̽@̴̦̑̈͜#̷̫͑̋!̸͖̜̌̚#̷̖̈͠%̴̠̈̃$̷̝̏͘^̴̨͔̂&̴̯̗̄͂#̸͖̂%̶͉͓̕^̷̗͜͠@̴̯̿̚$̴̨̀̔͜$̵̡̳́̋#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ$̸͕̮̎%̶͈͖͠$̴̰̊%̶̦͙̎&̴͔͂̓*̵̹̎̒(̵͖̈́̕)̸̤̓ͅ*̷̲̦͐̒&̴̣̀̎͜&̷̼́͝*̶̢͍̄͝$̴̛͕!̵̫̔͌(̴̠̤̽&̴͓̔@̸̯̯̿̾*̶̡̌#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ!̸̛̙͚̄$̷̰͇̔̓#̸̗̒$̸̲̠̇̾^̷̫͛*̶̥͋(̶͉̪͒)̷̛͇(̸̰͘ͅ$̷͉̔%̴̍ͅ!̷̱̓#̷͍͂$̶͔̾#̶̗͐͝@̵͉̎̕$̷̩̖͌%̸̜̜̇$̶͎̬͊&̷̲̔^̴͈̂̈́(̵͕́͌#̷̫͑̋!̸͖̜̌̚#̷̖̈͠%̴̠̈̃$̷̝̏͘^̴̨͔̂&̴̯̗̄͂#̸͖̂%̶͉͓̕^̷̗͜͠@̴̯̿̚$̴̨̀̔͜$̵̡̳́̋#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗@̵̛̠͚͑#̵̛̪̯̂$̵̲̘̀%̷̟̭͋@̷͚̊͂#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒)̸̤̓ͅ*̷̲̦͐̒&̴̣̀̎͜&̷̼́͝*̶̢͍̄͝$̴̛͕!̵̫̔͌(̴̠̤̽&̴͓̔@̸̯̯̿̾*̶̡̌(̸͉̹̉^̷̛̖@̴̺̳͛#̸͖̓͜$̴̟̈́̃&̸̭͊͊*̸̨͑͐*̸̪̙̌^̸̥̠̃͐#̵̱̔$̵̰̯̅%̶͍̿^̶̖̽@̴̦̑̈͜#̷̫͑̋!̸͖̜̌̚#̷̖̈͠%̴̠̈̃$̷̝̏͘^̴̨͔̂&̴̯̗̄͂#̸͖̂%̶͉͓̕^̷̗͜͠@̴̯̿̚$̴̨̀̔͜$̵̡̳́̋#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗@̵̛̠͚͑#̵̛̪̯̂$̵̲̘̀%̷̟̭͋@̷͚̊͂#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ$̸͕̮̎%̶͈͖͠$̴̰̊%̶̦͙̎&̴͔͂̓*̵̹̎̒(̵͖̈́̕)̸̤̓ͅ*̷̲̦͐̒&̴̣̀̎͜&̷̼́͝*̶̢͍̄͝$̴̛͕!̵̫̔͌(̴̠̤̽&̴͓̔@̸̯̯̿̾*̶̡̌(̸͉̹̉^̷̛̖@̴̺̳͛#̸͖̓͜$̴̟̈́̃&̸̭͊͊*̸̨͑͐*̸̪̙̌^̸̥̠̃͐#̵̱̔$̵̰̯̅%̶͍̿^̶̖̽@̴̦̑̈͜#̷̫͑̋!̸͖̜̌̚#̷̖̈͠%̴̠̈̃$̷̝̏͘^̴̨͔̂&̴̯̗̄͂#̸͖̂%̶͉͓̕^̷̗͜͠@̴̯̿̚$̴̨̀̔͜$̵̡̳́̋#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ$̸͕̮̎%̶͈͖͠$̴̰̊%̶̦͙̎&̴͔͂̓*̵̹̎̒(̵͖̈́̕)̸̤̓ͅ*̷̲̦͐̒&̴̣̀̎͜&̷̼́͝*̶̢͍̄͝$̴̛͕!̵̫̔͌(̴̠̤̽&̴͓̔@̸̯̯̿̾*̶̡̌#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ!̸̛̙͚̄$̷̰͇̔̓#̸̗̒$̸̲̠̇̾^̷̫͛*̶̥͋(̶͉̪͒)̷̛͇(̸̰͘ͅ$̷͉̔%̴̍ͅ!̷̱̓#̷͍͂$̶͔̾#̶̗͐͝@̵͉̎̕$̷̩̖͌%̸̜̜̇$̶͎̬͊&̷̲̔^̴͈̂̈́(̵͕́͌#̷̫͑̋!̸͖̜̌̚#̷̖̈͠%̴̠̈̃$̷̝̏͘^̴̨͔̂&̴̯̗̄͂#̸͖̂%̶͉͓̕^̷̗͜͠@̴̯̿̚$̴̨̀̔͜$̵̡̳́̋#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗@̵̛̠͚͑#̵̛̪̯̂$̵̲̘̀%̷̟̭͋@̷͚̊͂#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ$̸͕̮̎%̶͈͖͠$̴̰̊%̶̦͙̎&̴͔͂̓*̵̹̎̒(̵͖̈́̕)̸̤̓ͅ*̷̲̦͐̒&̴̣̀̎͜&̷̼́͝*̶̢͍̄͝$̴̛͕!̵̫̔͌(̴̠̤̽&̴͓̔@̸̯̯̿̾*̶̡̌(̸͉̹̉^̷̛̖@̴̺̳͛#̸͖̓͜$̴̟̈́̃&̸̭͊͊*̸̨͑͐*̸̪̙̌^̸̥̠̃͐#̵̱̔$̵̰̯̅%̶͍̿^̶̖̽@̴̦̑̈͜#̷̫͑̋!̸͖̜̌̚#̷̖̈͠%̴̠̈̃$̷̝̏͘^̴̨͔̂&̴̯̗̄͂#̸͖̂%̶͉͓̕^̷̗͜͠@̴̯̿̚$̴̨̀̔͜$̵̡̳́̋#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ$̸͕̮̎%̶͈͖͠$̴̰̊%̶̦͙̎&̴͔͂̓*̵̹̎̒(̵͖̈́̕)̸̤̓ͅ*̷̲̦͐̒&̴̣̀̎͜&̷̼́͝*̶̢͍̄͝$̴̛͕!̵̫̔͌(̴̠̤̽&̴͓̔@̸̯̯̿̾*̶̡̌#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ!̸̛̙͚̄$̷̰͇̔̓#̸̗̒$#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ!̸̛̙͚̄$̷̰͇̔̓#̸̗̒"I knew you were a monster since the moment I saw you, Master. But you really are something else..." Circe turns her nose up distastefully at the gore, while Noël wipes the blood from her fingers with her mouth. "What are you talking about, Caster? It's not like we could let them go after they saw us here. Memory Alteration would leave too noticeable an imprint on any enemy Magi in town." "I know, I know. At least I got some <cute> piglets out of this... and no, you're not eating those ones."

"Tsk..." Mina's response was partially in jest, as she finishes cleaning herself and turns to face the scene in front of her. The museum hall was dense with blood. Here and there, gnawed up corpses lie with horrified expressions frozen permanently on their face. On an island of immaculate cleanliness in the center of the viscera, sits a conspicuous, gorgeously crafted cedar briefcase. Mina walks across the blood and guts, picking up the briefcase by its carrying strap before turning to her Servant with a look of confirmation.

"Shall we begin?"

A pause. Circe gazes around at the devastation, the barest touch of disgust in her heart as she takes in the brutality of it all. But she understood clearly. This was her Master's nature as a Magus, it wasn't something for her to question or fight. The two had established their relationship as equals, brought into accord by convenience and shared intentions. Circe would get the dessert at the end, and Mina would get the feast that comes before. It's simple... isn't it?

"Of course, Master~" she chimes, twirling her staff in her hands to begin establishing the boundary. Her voice rings out in the divine language, guiding the world into obeying her will. It was simple. To get what they wanted, the two of them would need to win this war.

And in order to win this war, what they needed first of all was a base.

---

"Umu!" A declaration of pleasure, the emperor's approval. While it would have been nice if her place of summoning smelled a bit less like paint, she only needed one look at the boy before her to know. This was her Maestro. The fog cleared out of the ship quickly, revealing the emperor of Rome. From head to toe, everything about her screamed her status as an Emperor. The crown atop her head, adorned with diamonds along it's bottom. Her perfectly maintained blonde hair, the ahoge adding just a hint of rebellious attitude to her otherwise perfectly straight locks of gold. Her frilly clothing, dyed in a combination of colors to give it an air of imperial pride. But most of all, those loving green eyes. Those eyes that looked upon her people, those people that she gave all of her love to.

"I am the Emperor of Rome, Nero Claudius! Umu, you have chosen well Maestro!" She stood proudly in the middle of the summoning circle, observing her new Maestro. Yes, she loved him, there was no other way to say it. Everything about him was lovely, almost as lovely as she. "Feel privileged, for I am allowing you to bask in my beauty." The next thing Andrei would notice is Nero right next to him, pressing his body into her own with force. "You may praise me now."

---

---

Liliana tapped away on her laptop with glee, the mundanities of the world outside of Atlas were quite intriguing. For example, there was a website you could access via the "World Wide Web" that allowed you to instantly talk to someone across the world! With no Magecraft involved at all! There were multiple websites that let you do that! She had heard about it while in Atlas, but seeing it in action was completely different!

"Timothy, how do you order the Chinese food on this? I want to eat before I summon a hero of legend!" The sleeping boy on the ground did not respond. "Oh right. Sorry Timothy, keep napping." She had moved into the apartment a few hours prior, only to find a young boy named Timothy on the couch watching the television. At first he had been quite panicked, but after she poured him a bowl of cereal and hypnotized him into a limp pile of flesh, he had calmed down considerably. Apparently he had a fever, so he wasn't going to school today. This was of course a complete falsehood, his vitals all indicated that he was perfectly healthy and would be healthy for the next 28 days. However he would likely catch the common cold after being rubbing his eyes, which he was prone to do.

His parents worked construction, so they left him home alone for the day. Now he was taking a nap on the floor, which was good. Children need to rest in order to get better after being sick right? He had been on the couch, but then Liliana pushed him off because she wanted the couch. He's not sick so he doesn't need that much rest in the end.

"Oh well, I guess I'll just do the summoning now." Liliana hopped off the couch and grabbed her backpack, filled with jars of blood rich with Mana. After taking out one such jar and unscrewing the lid, she stuck her hand in to get painting. Blood splashed all over the floor, but her summoning circle was drawn with robotic precision. As she drew this circle, she had her other four "rooms" occupied with planning. Where would she begin scouting first, how would she first greet Ajax, what kind of Bounded Fields would she use for her Workshop. Answers were reached, new questions were formed, every minute of her time was put to good use while the first room focused on her physical work. Twenty minutes later and it was finished, one perfectly drawn circle to connect to the Throne of Heroes. Well, it connected to the Holy Grail, which then connected to the Throne of Heroes, but it was practically the same thing.

The catalyst was placed, one fragment of the mighty Ajax's shield. She briefly considered sacrificing Timothy to make sure the summoning went well, but it wouldn't be good if the first thing Ajax saw was a dead child on the ground next to her. Oh well. Liliana clapped her hands together and smiled, time to get the show on the road as the civilians say.



...well. It was certainly a chant. A minute passed by with nothing happening, no flash of light, no wind whipping about the room. Just Liliana smiling as she bounced on the heels of her feet, whistling while she waited. After it was clear that Liliana wasn't going to do the actual ritual, the Homunculus known as Justeaze Lizrich von Einzbern silently sighed from within the Greater Grail. Very well.

It was a quick flash of light, Liliana was blinded as her Command Seals burned onto her hand. Smoke filled the room, which made Liliana more than a little sick. Timothy was fine though, lucky for him that he was sleeping on the floor where there was no smoke. A fire alarm started beeping in the kitchen, she would have to go turn that off as soon as she stopped coughing. But when she opened her eyes, she bared witness to a legend reborn. And that legend was... "Oh! You're absolutely beautiful!" Yes, this was the first thing Liliana said to Ajax the Great, hero of the Trojan War. "You're like, really really pretty!"

Lancer Ajax
Apartment 13B, Oakfield Apartment Building, Downtown

---

A call to war, to battle, to glory once again pulled her, into another conflict. This time however, the battle was personal.

Following the pull, the call, the thread that awakened her, Ajax materialized on to the magic circle, her large stature starting to become more apparent as her figure rose from the circle.

The woman could only be called gigantic in stature, as she stretched for a moment, before looking down at the small figure staring up at her. The armor cladding the figure only served to highlight their massive difference in size. The floorboards creaked as Ajax glanced around, before her eyes settled on the boy, sleeping and unharmed.

"So?"

Ignoring what the small woman said, Ajax sat upon the couch, which seemed to bow under her and her armor's weight. It was a truly comfortable thing, but from the boy on the floor, and from the looks of things, this wasn't really her summoner's couch, or home for that matter. But before she asked about that... Formalities must come first.

"Where are the drinks?"

"Alright, so how's this looking like?
"The Master? Seems to be alright, though those mix of traits might be a bit too troublesome. Might have to keep an eye out for her.
"Her 'wish' is doable. Nothing too ambitious. Nothing I can't sit well with. Something I'm already well equipped for...
"As for that catalyst... well, to be frank, I've got no clue what that is.
"Ah, oh well. Orders are orders, after all...

---

---

Operation: "Broken Wolf"
Location: "Old Mansion", Rich District
Date: 12 / 10 / 2030
Time: 7:■■ AM
Designation "3": ACTIVE/INACTIVE

---

@GreenGoat

Frederica's call was answered. Within the circle, a hero had appeared. A Knight of the Round Table, it was, but it wasn't quite who the young magus had sought after...

The Servant looked rather ghastly, appearing as an older man whose bearded face is covered in scars and missing an eye. An apparent veteran of many battles, what completed his monstrous appearance was some sort of small horn sprouting just above his right brow, the horn itself having a mesmerizing shine to it as if it was formerly a part of something else. Something beautiful. As far as looks were concerned, however, Frederica had summoned a monster.

As the dust cleared from the wine cellar, the rest of his appearance was easy to make up. The Servant was tall, though not notably tall, definitely not freakishly tall, and he wore some sort of tattered patchwork of a cloak... no, "cloak" wasn't the right word, as it was closer to what some would call a "poncho" that covered most of whatever else he was wearing. What was revealed of his plated mail, on the other hand, glistened rather brightly as if it was meticulously shined and polished. If not for his poncho and his unkempt look, this Servant would indeed stick out as a "knight in shining armor." Perhaps his intentions were to hide such a detail?

"Summoning was a success. No hostiles in the area." The ragged knight began to speak to himself as he started to move his arms and legs a bit. "Everything seems to be in place, but I'm still missing an eye. It seems even being in the Throne doesn't fix that, then, huh."

Stroking his beard, the knight had looked down to the young Frederica Bernstein, scrutinizing her with his one good eye. As he noticed her command spells, he nodded to himself before crossing his arms and clearing his throat.

"Before we get started, I just need to be certain... are you my Master?"

Here in the frigid snowy plains of Montana, lives a man who practically owns everything. A hedonistic visionary who cultivate the land into his own profit and has his own private mansion scattered across almost everything the light touches. This is the tale of the magus known as 'the Prospector' and how he got himself tangled in this version of the holy grail war:

The sound of heavy machinery drilling, The sound of buzzsaws humming, The sound of hammers repeatedly pounding upon the freshly cut lumbers from the forest of the plains, multiple underpaid workers grudgingly starting their day off early this morning just to do construction labor in order to put some little food on their plate despite the frigid conditions here in Montana. This is truly despicable. What kind of an inconsiderate money-hungry industrialist would force these people to do this kind of things at a moments notice, just to benefit in reforming his own land from their ill-payed hard labor?

"Gawd, I love the smell of money in the morning" A plump old man grins mischievously, sniffing the fresh country air, adjusting his expensive belt buckle around his waist and watches from the luxury of his mansion's windows, admiring the view of his latest real estate project here in the rich district.

"Here's the finest fresh brew coffee you order sir" A well-dressed butler knocks and enters his room.

Clay takes a sip and didn't even bother to look or acknowledge at his manservant. Clearly, he was so fixated in this own world and vividly imagining on what his future project would be as he continues to stare at his window. He can only see dollar signs in his eyes right about now.

"Also, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it appears to be some reports of an incident on the museum early this morning"

"Say what boy!? Also, this taste like shit.. you're fired!" Clay violently spat out his coffee.

"uhh.. Sir about the museum?"

"Right, right..good call, I've changed my mind, you're hired!" he waves his hand."just cover it up for the time being. it's probably some wild deer broke in or something.. Don't wanna scare off the investors and tourist with something trivial as that." He scoffs.

"Uh.."

"Well, what are you waiting for BOY! i didn't hire you just to stand around! time is money!" He exclaims loud, frightening the poor lad and nervously scoots away, slamming the door on his way out.

As soon as the manservant left his office. Clay sighed and takes out several letters from his pocket. In his hand lies the letters of different investors, stamps with different international flags from which they came from various mage association around the world, this was truly confidential and for Clay's eyes only to see. The news spread fast around the world when the grail got stolen and was brought here in this very state. It seems the Prospector has received some foreign proposition outside the country, having an extra income is always welcome for the pockets of a businessman such as himself. Now the only question is, how deep will they go on their pockets?


"Just as though I was out, they pull me back in.." Clay deeply sighed. He's too old for participating in this shit.

Luckily for him, his magecraft hasn't withered like his old age. It only gets better. A bounded field was set up around his property to keep those pesky mages and IRS people away from his own personal business. A smart marketing strategy as Clay would describe it.

Now to perform the ritual inside the comfort of his luxurious library. A summoning circle was drawn and the setting was in order.

A piece of an unfinished manuscript was chosen out of the many catalysts his investors sends him. Was it the right choice? eh, can't say, Either way, Clay fancies his tunes from the past, old people then to gravitate towards the classics.

Let's get this over with, I have a business arrangement, gold mines to manage and a pedicure session later this noon.

Clay adjusted his cowboy hat and steps forth towards the circle, extending his hand and begin his incantation. What was it again?

"I-say.. i-say.. i-do declare, heed my prayers and answer my call, Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah magus of the throne I call upon thee..From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three greet words of power, Come forth from the ring of restraints, Protector of the Holy Balance! or something, c'mon, I don't got all day.."

The old coot's half-ass incantation seems to be doing something as the circle reacts and shimmers.

A mystical bright light blinds the room as Clay steps back and shielded his eyes.

A magical red-hot symbol was suddenly imprinted on the old man's fist.

When the smoke clears and everything was settled, An enigmatic figure emerges in the middle the circle.

Summoning success? <question mark>

"What in tarnation? Well.. Speak up BOY"

@Scallop

@Argonaut

An unassuming sedan slowed to a stop outside of a shabby, run down house in the Poor District in Blue Fields, Montana. It was quiet, and uncharacteristically sparse of people. The hum of the engine stopped as the driver turned and pulled the key out of the ignition. He opened his door and stepped out. He stood at six feet tall, with a lean, athletic build. His skin was peach with a very light tan, and his hair was stark white. He was dressed in a red long-sleeved shirt, black jeans, black boots, and a long blue coat, and was adorned with various accessories including a digital watch, a locket around his neck, and a pair of sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. Most interestingly, he was missing his right arm. He looked at the empty house before him and measured it for a few moments, before nodding and walking around to the back of the car. He popped the trunk and began unloading.

Some time later, after he had loaded his essentials into the house and had a pizza delivered, he went down to the house's basement, which had been cleared out completely, a room of naked walls and floor. A single lamp was the only source of illumination. He held up a sheet of paper with a drawing of a strange circle with various lines and symbols throughout it. He mentally went down the list of things he would need.

Setting up the circle took time, but in the end, it was a worthy endeavor. It was the necessary first step to establishing connection. Now, the second step.

"Let silver and steel be the essence."

His voice echoed around the basement, but he paid it no mind.

"Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation. Let my great Master Sarah Winchester be the ancestor. Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall. Let the four cardinal gates close. Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate." With those lines, the circle began to glow and hum. He extended his hand out over the circle and continued. "Let it be declared now; your flesh shall serve under me, and my fate shall be with your sword. Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail. Answer, if you would submit to this will and this truth." The light of the circle sent out a gust of wind that nearly knocked him over. He braced himself and continued to hold out his hand, gritting his teeth in concentration.

"An oath will be sworn here! I shall attain all virtues of Heaven! I will defeat all the evils of Hell! From the Seventh Heaven, clad in three greet words of power, come forth from the ring of restraints, Protector of the Holy Balance!"

An explosion of light and wind filled the basement and vanished as swiftly as it came.

---

Yes! He had managed to summon one!

"Umu!"

...What did that mean?

By all accounts, a really gorgeous lady had appeared. A former boss of Rome, apparently. Did the Romans fight skeletons? If there was even a chance, he had to warn her not to-

"You may praise me now."

Was it supposed to be like this? Andrei had gotten the impression that having a Servant was meant to be more like "I will do as you command, Master." A working relationship that didn't involve some ancient dead lady rubbing up against you.

This was perfect for him, then. It would've been dull if his situation had been the same as everyone else's. While all those losers were stuck being "Masters," Andrei would be a "Maestro." He liked the sound of it, for now. Plus, if he really needed to boss someone around, there was always that skeleton guy.

On the subject of praising the Emperor...

"Uh, nice entrance."

That ought to do it.

"But yeah, I'm Andrei Ozhidani. Your Maestro, I guess. Do I call you Nero, or am I supposed to go by your class container?" He made to pull back and offer a handshake, but if Nero decided to keep him in her grasp there wasn't much he could do. " Welcome to my flying saucer! In this war we have the extremely cool benefit of a mobile base, so make yourself at home!"

He looked squarely in Nero's eyes. She was weird, but that was fine. Good, even. Meanwhile, the smell of paint definitely seemed to be clearing out along with the last remains of the summoning fog. Using his newly gained Master's clairvoyance, he could see that she was a high-quality Servant whose abilities would work well with what he had.

"I don't know if you had any plans in mind when you appeared, but there are a few important things to take care of. First you'll have to meet my right hand man. He looks like, but is not actually, a skeleton. The other thing is a real dilemma. See, we all need winter clothes, but since none of us have winter clothes yet we can't go outside to get them."

He looked Nero up and down. What she was wearing looked kind of warm, but it was no jacket. "If you're good with braving the elements to buy a coat or two, I'll give you some cash. Or maybe you have another plan?"

---

"Oh darling emperor, the way you entered into my humble abode. Perfection incarnate, I'm the luckiest man alive!"

"Umu!" Nero squeezed her Maestro even tighter, not giving him even an inch to try and escape her embrace. "My entrance is the entrance of a Roman Emperor, so it could be nothing less than perfect!" He introduced himself to be Andrei Ozhidani, her Maestro in this Holy Grail War.

"Do I call you Nero, or am I supposed to go by your class container?"

"You may call me whatever pleases you my darling Maestro." She stroked his hair lightly, looking into his eyes with passion as he continued speaking. After he finished talking about their home, Nero finally let go and walked straight over to the controls. "Umu, this vehicle functions just like the flying chariot I once built. Whoever built this took inspiration from the right places!"

"I don't know if you had any plans in mind when you appeared, but there are a few important things to take care of. First you'll have to meet my right hand man. He looks like, but is not actually, a skeleton."

"Umu." She muttered as she nodded seriously, as if she understood perfectly. Of course she had no idea what he meant, but it mattered not. Any friend of her Maestro was a friend of Nero, whether they be made of flesh and bone or just bone.

"The other thing is a real dilemma. See, we all need winter clothes, but since none of us have winter clothes yet we can't go outside to get them."

Nero's eyes practically shined as he said this, looking her body up and down with lust in his eyes. Yes, she understood exactly what he wanted.

"If you're good with-"

"Of course Maestro, you don't need to ask!" She grabbed him once again and pressed him into her breasts, Nero let out a heavy breath near his ear as she continued. "You never need to ask when you want to use my body..." Her voice was sultry, she backed him up into the control console of the UFO as she reached behind him to grab... the lever to open the ship.

"Umu, we can go shopping together! My body is incredibly warm, as long as you hold onto me the fire of Nerofest shall warm you!" The ramp leading outside opened, revealing Agent Morgan patiently waiting outside, doing whatever it was skeletons did when nobody was looking. Probably something spooky.

Andrei would notice that Nero wasn't lying at all, her body was incredibly warm. Overbearingly so almost, if it weren't for the violent cold outside he would be sweating from the sheer heat she was giving off. Or was that just him reacting to her imperial charms? Probably the second one.

---

---

She was just as curt as Liliana expected, sitting down and immediately asking for something to drink. Liliana shrugged as she looked around the living room, unsure of where anything in this apartment was. "I don't know. In the fridge probably?" She wandered around for a minute looking for the fridge, finding it after wandering by it twice. There wasn't much in terms of drinks, just milk and juices. Ah, wait! There was a beer hidden in the back of the fridge, placed to hide it from little Timothy.

Liliana pulled it out from the back of the fridge quickly, bringing it over to Ajax before going back to the kitchen to look for a bottle opener. "So hi! I'm Liliana Mortensen, I'm 23 years old, and my hobbies are reading, drinking tea, and making weapons that could make your insides come outside!" She found it relatively quickly, heading back to the living room to give it to the Servant she had summoned.

"What's your name?"

Hua Mulan, Poor District

_{Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice.
These are the stuff girls are made off. But the grail added three extra enhancement in shaping this servant:
Intensity, Bravery, and Honor!
As for compatibility sake, it only makes sense for a rebellious spirit such as Jacob acquiring a rebellious heroic spirit from the past.
Lemme hook you up with some intense music as I introduce you to one of China's famous heroine.
First impression are always the most important}

---

The location was set.

The wind howls with sheer intensity as the summoning takes place.

The light surrounding the summoning circle suddenly turns into a vortex of untamed flares.

A silhouette of a dragon's head abruptly manifests within the confines of the flames and was replaced by a soldier-like figure in an instant.

Was Jacob seeing things? dunno, but It was pretty wild, man.

The smoke clears and a stoic figure emerges in the midst of the ashes.

What the fuck did Jacob just summon?

This Chinese imperial soldier is ridiculously equipped with all sorts of traditional weapons that the knight classes would normally wield.

Was it a saber? due to the fact this servant has a sheathed short sword on its side;

Or was it an archer, due to the recurve longbow equipped on its back;

Or perhaps, perhaps...This is a lancer servant? since this heavily armored lad is wielding some sort of long flagpole on its right arm as its main weapon.

Well, If you guess one of these classes, well you're sadly misguided and just got played.

"At ease soldier, I of the Rider class is here to assist you in your conquest" A man's voice booms inside its helm."Well, speak up, master, did you lost your tongue as well as your arm?" Rider removes its helm that conceals her identity.

"Heh," She teased and casually place her lance on the back of her shoulders. A tomboyish attitude yet a beautiful face appears before her metal-armed master.

@Kyuuzen

Lancer Ajax
Apartment 13B, Oakfield Apartment Building, Downtown[

---

Ajax accepted the drink, and without further ado, simply popped the top off with her hands.

Drinking it however, her face scrunched up at the taste. Some sort of beer, instead of fine wine. Truly the drink of barbarians. Was she to be treated as second class even here? Even without the likes of Achilles or Odysseus present? It was no matter; Ajax would still fight to the best of her ability.

"Hmph... This will do."

"So hi! I'm Liliana Mortensen, I'm 23 years old, and my hobbies are reading, drinking tea, and making weapons that could make your insides come outside! What's your name?"

"I am Ajax. Lancer class." Her eyes glanced about the place, and at her own Master. "I assume you are to be my Master?"

This house... was not her Master's, made obvious by the way she acted and treated the things inside it. Just by observing her conduct, Ajax could already deduce that her Master was not one who had any sort of morals or honor as she knew it. Not that she would say that out loud; she simply did not see what it would change if she did.

"Then, if you are to be my Master, I pledge my shield and spear to you, in this War." Bowing her impressive frame slightly, Ajax gave her Master a serious gaze. "What do we first, Master?"

---

Frederika Bernstein
Rich District, Old Mansion.

---

Rika was, unsurprisingly, rather wide eyed at the... figure before her.

This could never be Tristan, but rather some sort of rogue knight, judging from his attire. Was there ever such a dirty looking knight in the Round Table? Gareth? Bedivere? Lancelot perhaps? While she could, perhaps, believe it was simply one of them in field combat gears that was well worn, Rika had no idea where that horn came in. The catalyst she used was definitely, absolutely a piece of Cortana, Tristan's sword, so for it to summon a hobo looking knight was unthinkable. Who else had held and wielded that sword, beside Tristan?

Shaking off her shock, Rika attempted to look as dignified as she could, showing off the crest with a slight blush.

"Welcome, Sir Knight, and thank you, for answering my call." She bowed, before standing straight again. "I am Frederika Bernstein, and yes, I am to be your Master."

A solid Servant, from what she could see of his stats. But... now Rika had a mountain of things to prepare afterwards, as well as preparations that needed to be altered, considering she had banked on getting an Archer for a Servant.

Thomas instructed the bellboy to place his suitcases just inside the doorway before dismissing the hotel employee with a moderate tip. Walking deeper into the suite the Magus turned around slowly and took in the appearance of what was to become his workshop for the foreseeable future; the lavish penthouse apartment was a bit more extravagant than he was comfortable with, not to mention far too expensive, but in this situation it was far more important to choose a location for its security than comfort.

Walking over to the window which covered one wall of the room Thomas gazed out over the park; in the distance he could see the downtown area, its rather minimal skyline silhouetted against the sky, and if he were to walk over to the other window he would be able to see the forest as well. His rented apartment dominated the entire top floor of a hotel in the rich district of this small, forgotten slice of America. Why such a small town needed a luxurious hotel like this he didn’t know, perhaps to play host to wealthy investors for the mining interests this town had, but ultimately it was of little concern; he would just count it as a little bit of good fortune that it was here and also currently uninhabited.

Turning away from the window he returned to his suitcases and selected the smaller of the two, carrying it over to a coffee table and placing it down on its side. He undid the clasps and flipped it open, swiftly beginning to remove various implements, parcels and packages from its interior; he had much work to do to prepare for the upcoming war. It would take some time to make this place into a suitable workshop, much to be done before he could consider it even remotely safe from attack or detection. Much to be done; at the very least he wanted to establish the basic defences before nightfall.

He began with the bounded fields, focusing on making them undetectable rather than powerful; he had other methods of protection to rely on, ones that would not act as a beacon to anyone with the means of detecting magecraft, so he opted for subtlety over brute force. Hiding his presence was the more important than layering defences. A field to avert the eyes and make the penthouse seem uninteresting, a field to mask the use of any magecraft happening inside, a field which would hopefully go undetected for the duration of this war.

With that done he moved on to other business. He would strengthen the field later, when he had more time; the field had taken some time to establish and outside the sky was already turning orange as the sun began its descent. Luckily the next few steps were simple and quickly performed so long as the necessary preparations were made beforehand, which he had of course done; simple, but no less effective for it.

These early stages of the Grail War were perhaps the most hazardous and the most crucial; entering into the battlefield with no workshop, no knowledge of your opponents and with some of the greatest heroes in history as your adversaries. How you spent your time here could make the difference between life and death in the long run. A Magus was nothing without the proper preparation after all.

It was in his favour then, that he had already performed the most important action before leaving the UK.

“Rider; prepare yourself. Tonight we are going hunting.”

It was cold. It was that air that signified how the sun was going down, and the war was coming in full force. In a way, he knew it was coming. He also knew that he had to accomplish the task set forward, and that... That was Ruler's burden to bare. And carry it he would, like a cross upon his back. "The storm is coming." He said those words, in a way that was as cryptic as possible. As if he was taking some glee in the idea of it. "Or perhaps, I am the one who has been forced to carry the burden of starting it."

For a moment, Ruler thought about this. He could ignore it. He could refuse his duty to strike the gong of war. He could refuse to repeat the past. I could spare the world of this. He could avoid it. He could could leave them to their own machinations. But he was not that man. He was not the kind of man to refuse the call given to him. Maybe that was his flaw? The fact that he could never turn away from something, no matter how dangerous. All he had wanted in life was the quiet life. He had to put that to rest.

Ruler stepped out onto the fields. Cold wind brushed through his hair, and a sigh escaped his lips. This was America, wasn't it? To think that in life he had never dreamed a nation like this possible. But that was the fate of a man who had been a farmer, and only became the hero he was because of the desperation of others. "Very well... I accept this burden."

He had said that too often. He hadn't truly regretted saying it till now. Falling to a knee, he wrapped a hand around the wooden grip of his weapon. Fingers digging into the cherry wood. "I accept the consequences, as ruler of this Holy Grail War!" The weapon was raised. And...
____________________________________________________________________________________
All of them heard it. No matter where they sat in the world. No matter how far from the plains. No matter what they were preoccupied with... They could all hear it. All who possessed the power to anyway. Mages from all over the world turned their heads for a moment, and they knew it was finally here. It was a sound that reached even the Mage Association. A shockwave that reached even to Fuyuki. From her window, Rin Tohsaka looked out into the night sky.
"I guess it was going to happen either way." She said, turning her gaze to the attendant besides her. "You think they'll manage a war without a single death?"
"Unlikely. History repeats. That's why they summon heroes from the past." The attendant said, adjust his red cloak. "They exist to repeat the stories told about them. They sacrifice themselves for an uncaring world, and they die again and again. Only they can hardly be called heroes at this point. They are ghosts. Fighting on the whims of men and woman who seek to control the world."
"You know how that feels, don't you?" Rin whispered softly, and the man nodded in response. "That was a shot heard around the world just then. Now the whole world is watching. Their eyes focused on that city."
"At the very least one thing is clear." The man said, a hand on her shoulder. "This may very well be the final grail war."
"You think so?"
"I know so."
____________________________________________________________________________________

Ruler hung his head. The deed was done. The consequences of this would hang on his shoulders now. He could no longer walk away from the action he had pushed himself down. His coat billowed in the aftermath of that. And he walked through the field. Making his way to a place to observe all this from.
"Now is the winter of our discontent..." He whispered, and he hated how the words rolled off his tongue. Making speeches just wasn't for him.

---

The silvery disc was supported by its three landing legs on the small island at the centre of the duck pond. Its surface way entirely smooth and without marking, aside from the spaces where the legs extended from. However, when the last of the Blue Fields citizens had cleared off of the streets, an externally invisible hatch on the saucer roof opened with a hiss.

"-Guess I'll go up with you."

If anyone had been in the park at this late hour, they still would not have heard the second half of Andrei's sentence, as it was stopped by the boundary of the island. From the hatch, the UFO's captain climbed out, followed by the Emperor of Rome. The latter was outfitted in a fashionable, if rather flamboyant, winter coat, while the former was completely bundled up with a thick jacket, earmuffs, scarf, and gloves.

He had grown up in Arizona, after all.

"Take the wheel, skeleman! Put the cloak up, but leave the landing legs down!" He called down into the cabin as he closed the hatch behind them. As it fell into place, a small handle rose from the top which could be used to open it again. It was something that could be retracted using the control panel, which meant they were completely at the mercy of Agent Morgan. A scary thought, but at least he didn't have a gun.

Nero was the sort to put you in a daze when you spent a day with her, so Andrei couldn't think of the furthest apart they had been since her summoning, but now, Andrei very intentionally huddled close to Nero. His new coat was thick enough to make the chilly Montana air manageable without her added warmth, but that didn't account for what they were about to do. "Keep a sharp eye out, okay? If an Archer or flying-type Rider catches wind of us, you'll be our only hope."

The hummm of the saucer was something that anyone hanging around it would quickly tune out, but now it raised in volume until it could no longer be ignored. The pair could feel it moving under them, beginning to hover, but ignoring a slight correction from the mildly uneven ground to a perfect midair level, there was absolutely no wobble. Abnormally for such takeoffs, the three legs of the UFO remained extended, and after a moment, the entire surface, legs and all, vanished from sight. Andrei and Nero could feel the surface they stood on and detect the immense mana core within, but they did indeed seem to be standing on air.

"Let's get outta here!"

The humming reached its peak, and the saucer flew away.

There was no explosion or prolonged jet of flame. The people of Blue Fields would scarcely see or hear a thing. Nonetheless, the energy in the air was nearly tangible. This was flight meant to travel the stars, and in another moment, it would reach its destination. Its altitude was low enough that it would have been at risk of crashing into the W.I.P. skyscraper of the city, but Morgan's dexterity was far too precise to allow for something like that, even if it had been able to damage the ship.

Anyone in tune with mana would note the vague position of something in the sky, and the eyes of Servants were sharp enough to pick out the nigh-invisible ship even without the two people grouped atop it, being battered by the wind. Just now, they were partway through the downtown area, but where would they end up?

Frederika Bernstein
Rich District -> Historical District.

---

"Nnngh... Why do I keep getting these bad feelings?"

It was a busy day, particularly the ritual to bind a god in her favour. The food was prepared well, the young boy they bribed with a lot of pocket money to stay silent until a certain part of the ritual did relatively well, even if he almost stuttered during the last part. But, Zeus or perhaps a smaller part of him, did answer, and did give her his blessings, and promises for more. She was hoping for Mars or Ares, but at least no other gods answered the call; the grimoire recorded within the crest did have any mention of summoning only select gods after all. She could have just as easily attracted Sekmet who may or may not offer more insiduous blessings.

In any case, the fortifying of the mansion was well underway now, thanks to the combined efforts of all the mages staying there. But that chill, that feeling, never left her. There was that feeling of being watched, of something in the shadows gazing into her, as if boring a hole into her very soul.

Be on guard Lancer.

Frederika moved as naturally as possible, making small talk with the two mages beside her, as they made their way there. On her back was a backpack, filled with everything they need. There were rumours that the historical district was a burial ground, but with the ritual she would perform on it, they will find out for sure.

It should have been a time for hurry, when all the chosen descended upon the city, resplendent in the gifts of their families and benefactors, to raise forth mighty spirits and lay claim to their chosen bastions. A time of uncertainty, when Master first meets Servant, and each assess the others place among their morals and schemes. None of this even began to scratch the surface of the sheer labor with which the Master's must acquaint themselves with the city and play their part in the imminent game of cat and mouse with several eager parties believing themselves more feline then rodent.

Fortunate then for Richard that he savored the evening air as the opening salvo rang, not in a flurry of rampant motion, but from the leisure of an open apartment window, a cigarette lowly burning between his clenched fingers. After all, he'd been in Blue Field three days already, unfettered by outside organization and free to move as he pleased, even if his family complained fiercely about the inevitable death and loss of their heir.

Nestled within one apartment of many, a complex whose occupants remained ignorant of the true intentions of their new neighbor, amenable as he and his Servant may be. He'd considered putting a bounded field over the entire building to encourage the other occupants to be a bit less nosy, but decided against it in the end. Suffice it to say I would be better served with neighbors to dissuade conflict then a barrier to stall it.

Having settled upon a simple ward scheme that contained any errant emissions he and his rugged companion might make, Richard felt quiet comfortable in the flat, not least of all because of the presence of a spirit of old
now borne again to fight for him. The summoning circle was little more then a series of smudges now, sanitized and covered up with a cheery throw rug. After all, he was paying for the apartment, so he may as well keep it tidy while he enjoys it.

He slid the window shut and snuffed out his cigarette in an ash tray in passing, only to reach into his coat and pull forth a car key which jingled merrily its freedom.

"It sounds like events are starting to roll into motion out there. I couldn't say I'm eager for the blood sport, but fancy a drive around town to see what's going on?" Richard asked, his voice carrying an undercurrent of ease unsuited to the monumental task at hand. He walked with a casual gait, passing by a trio of propane cylinders without a grill to house them as he made for the door. "Who knows? Maybe we'll meet a prospective ally on the streets? "

---

As he listened to his Master's Declaration of an outing, Saber leaned on the frame of the newly-opened door, where he had arrived only a few moments earlier. In contrast to the knightly garb he had been summoned in, he was now dressed in a t-shirt and jeans more fitting of the day and age, something critical for interacting with the neighbours and blending in, although it would scarcely fool anyone who had a sense of magical energy.

"A splendid idea!" Saber had already held a contented look on his face, so his expression as Richard related his plan was simply a shift from passive to active happiness. He knocked his hands together twice, cleaning off a fair amount of dust. Richard couldn't be sure of the exact source of it, but he would have a general idea. Saber had been helping the neighbours with various physical chores since their arrival, in between his visits to restaurants and bars. "Killing would be fruitless, but gathering comrades is best done early."

Saber let his Master pass through the door before walking alongside him as the two made their way down the staircase to the parking lot. Along the way he made friendly greetings to the last few tenants who were just locking up for the night. As the pair stopped next to an unassuming minivan parked among all the other civilian vehicles, the swordsman turned to the mage. "I'm sure you know the risks of coming out yourself. The bloodthirsty Assassin is probably stalking the streets while Caster schemes and spreads pawns."

A frown formed on Saber's face as he regretted his words immediately. Stealth and Magecraft still required much training, and they could certainly be used for good. If he met a Servant from one of those Classes who was worthy to join his band, he would definitely have to commend them on rising above their assigned status in the war.

The air audibly shifted in a thunderous clap as Saber's hand moved and closed into the thumbs-up position directed at Richard. "...So since you have the courage to step out onto the battlefield of heroes as a man of the modern age, I promise to spare no effort in your protection!"

With that, he brought his other hand down on the top of the car with not quite enough force to dent it. "We have space in here for a great many heroes! If your familiars have informed you of anyone in particular, we may head there, but I otherwise have no problem simply exposing my presence while we do a bit of sightseeing."

Hua Mulan, Forest Area, Sundown

The ballad of Rider is often romanticized and to some point strays away from the actual facts of her legends(?). Different variations, different takes on her tale, almost muddled to a certain degree. But one thing is absolute about her stories: the description of her unyielding courage echoes throughout the heart of her countrymen and is definitely well known for.

No more hiding, time to get to know the other servants first hand.

Instead of scouting, why not make the others come to her? it's much easier that way, right?

Rider spins her flag and plants it on the ground. 'Whoosh' outcomes a howling wind, making the trees in the area rustle like crazy.

Her strange aura emits in the middle of the forest of Montana, letting her presence known to those who can pick up within the radius of her current location.

Was Rider craving for a death wish this early? eh, you could say that, or perhaps this was part of her unorthodox tactics. Either way, She solely went on this quest to somehow buy more time for her master's preparations back home. Truly a rebellious individual this ambiguous warrior is.

Fortune favors the bold as they say. An invitation was set to those who participate in this holy grail war. Come what may, friend or foe, greater than her or not. It doesn't matter and quite frankly she doesn't care. Come, test your might or just let your presence known those who come to investigate this area.

A mysterious soldier coated in metal stands firm and awaits in the midst of the white forest.