London, Clocktower Mage Association HQ

Chapter 0 - Prologue to a Terrible War

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The afternoon day here in London was a nice one, and the sun shined brightly around the city. The Clocktower that the Mages trained in the Clocktower went about their everyday activities doing what they would to further their own knowledge. However the Clocktower today was holding a little darker shade then it usually did, and the Clocktower was home to many dark secrets already. Today the Team of Black was being formed. Church Officials, and Mage Associates all gathering to form an alliance against the Family Grey. The mage family known for their mage superiority views now held the keys to the 'new' Holy Grail. However only the top officials knew the exact details. In order to assure secrecy the Association has yet to tell the exact details to those outside their domain in order to prevent leakage of their plans. Thus the group was gathering at the Clocktower in order to form a more cohesive group.

Normally the Association would go for mercenaries, and thugs for a job like this however with the Greys being former Mage Association members they have decided to make this more personal. The Association had left Director Orson Archibald as the one in charge of Allied forces. The Church for their part was sending a master of their craft their way as well. It was in the headmaster's office that the group would be meeting. The world would change for the better, or for the worse this day as a Great Holy Grail War was to start.

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As Leon rounded a corner he looked for the office of the Headmaster. He had been told where to go by a younger mage he had ran into at the front of the clocktower. It wouldn't be much longer until he got there. It was hard to keep pace, and not lose himself in the sprawling corridors of this place. No doubt others found it easier if they lived here, and learned what it meant to be a mage here. But to him it was a mess. As he nearly bumped into a master mage carrying some boxes he apologized, and moved out of the way and finally arrived at the office. He knocked on the door, and someone inside told him to enter.

As he entered he saw a large man with scars on his face wearing a long white jacket staring at him with indifference but them smiled at him when he noticed Leon was looking at him. He had messy brown hair, and grey eyes. His body was muscular but not to a freakish extent. And his size made Leon a bit intimidated he wondered how many fights this man had survived. At a desk sat the man called Director Orson. He wore a black vest with a red tie. His graying hair was slicked back, and he looked at Leon through cold blue eyes.

His professional nature spoke volumes about him as he reeked of a man who had spent his life teaching those younger than him. Still Leon could not help but feel as if he was staring at a terrifying man. Leon had not met him but he was known by many as a great mage. He was not the head master they were simply borrowing the office for sake of convenience. "Why hello there son! How are you doing this fine day?" the man in white said to Leon as he nodded at him in return.

"I'm fine nice to meet you, I'm Leon, Leon Winchester. It is a pleasure to meet you sirs." Leon said as he nodded his head at them. "Winchester? Ha there's a name I never thought I'd see pop up again. Your grand dad was a pain in my ass when I was a younger man you know. All the same you shouldn't worry we're all friends here. I have a colleague around here somewhere. Should be here soon. Oh and my name is Prichard Anderson. But please just call me Anderson." the man said as Director Orson cleared his voice,

"I hope the others will show up soon. If not we will simply proceed with business as we should. I specifically marked today as a meeting day for everyone. If no one else shows up I can only assume they are operating on their own volition." Director Orson said calmly as he motioned for Leon to take one of the chairs in the office. Leon obliged with a quick thanks to the Director.

It was a nice building. Of course it would be. The Mage Association clearly didn't feel the need to budget themselves. This was the problem with European Magecraft. They had purged the real talent centuries ago, and held on by following only a select few. This was why at one point the Europeans had sought the destruction of the magecraft found in the cradle of humanity. Or roughly about. But as Aksha stood at the doorway, he knew he was not the important player in this particular venture. No, he was a messenger for the duo currently making their way to the Grail War's chosen location.

Aksha had a secret, not that he hid it. He was not the only one of himself. But rather a circle of around fifteen who operated together, yet across vast distances. Together they sought one goal. To discover a way around the blockade that had kept him stagnate in his magical growth for nearly several centuries. No success on any fronts. Until that day when a letter arrived to one of the group. Passing it over to the strongest of their sect, they all knew this was their one chance to achieve a miracle wish. And, to reunite with his student. The only individual he knew who could win the grail war without a fuss.

But that was neither here nor there. The man in all those heavy robes entered the building. Stopping the occasional student for directions, and while he was sure one of them had just made directions up to annoy him, he eventually found his way to the office of a certain Director Orson.

"I apologize for arriving just a bit early. I got a tad lost along the way." Aksha said, a smile under that mask he wore, and the heavy turban tilting just a little on his head. He refused to change his clothing for anything. The outfit in question managed to both breath, and be warm in the cold. "I was making sure that I had arrived at the war's location in advance. I realize it may come off as a tad overzealous, but my student insisted on getting there early. And he needed the learning experience." He may have been a bit too vague, since he could see the confusion on the faces of more than a few of the gathered individuals. "It's complicated. But you may refer to me as Master of the Archer Class servant."

He took a seat, adjusting its position a few times to make sure he had the comfiest position possible, while still being able to look at the others. "You may all call me, Aksha. It rolls easier off the tongue I've been told."




"So, Teacher, this is where the grail war is going to be?" There was something bitter in Archer's voice. "It's disappointing. I was expecting someplace..." There was a slight annoyance to the way he spoke. As if he was disappointed by the sheer simplicity of the town chosen for this war. "Bigger." He held his hands a bit further apart, and Aksha couldn't help but chuckle at his student's dissatisfaction with the location.
"Well, we haven't reached the grail war yet. This is just a detour while we get some food." Aksha explained, picking up a french fry from the meal they had picked up. Burgers and fries, with a milkshake for Archer. He didn't need the food, but he had been out of the timeline for nearly 600 years by this point. So him scarfing down as many fries, burgers, and milkshakes as possible was clearly the conqueror making up for lost time.

Archer pushed nearly half a burger into his mouth, while his other hand brushed through the fur of a stray cat that had taken itself up on his lap. A few others strays hovered around, finding ways to get comfy around the man. All while the two of them attracted attention from a few others who spotted them.
"Well, we should avoid further detours. Despite how delicious this burger is." He said, giving his feline companions a little ear scratch here and there. "Or maybe we should get take-out. I have interest in this so called 'Chinese' food I've seen in some buildings. It clearly isn't, but it must have some merit."
"Naturally. You have missed out on experiencing so much. The grail may fill in all that information for you, but it fails to give you the experience of it. Before the war begins properly, I believe we should go see a movie in the theaters. There is one called... Mad Max that I believe you would enjoy." Aksha replied, reaching out to pat the noggin of one of the cats who had opted to follow his student. "But, I don't think your feline followers will be allowed to join us."
"What can I say? They follow me because, they know that by doing so, they will be fed and taken care of. It is the nature of things."

"Of course. That is the nature of things."

"Master of Archer? Wait does that mean?" Leon mumbled as he clutched his satchel as Director Orson sighed, and nodded at the new comer. He had expected this man though he was disgusted by his presence here. "As he said this is Aksha he's an old friend of the College here. He's jumped the gun, and summoned someone much quicker than I'd have liked but its all the same in the end I suppose." Orson was privy to a great many things, and he made it his business not to say more than he needed to about things that he had not right to speak about. "I sense, and smell old magic on you friend. I'm not sure who you are but you're not someone I'm use to meetin'. And in my line of work that's something I gotta give you as props. Don't know what kinda magic it is off the top of my head though." Anderson stated as he turned Aksha his eyes were barely visible beneath his sunglasses but the way the man held himself gave way to that of an experienced man who had seen a great many things. Leon however was unaware of all of this, and looked back, and forth. "Well...I guess you can call me Leon. Leon Winchester. Master-To-Be. Probably Saber, or Lancer if my catalyst is what my old man told me it was." Leon stated as he nodded at the individual who had identified himself as Aksha. "I'm sorry but I don't know what the others are talking about. I'm just here to do a job for my father. Even if it is reckless." Leon said rather bluntly with a chuckle, and a smile. "All the same Master of Archer please sit down if you would be so kind. If not you may remain standing I am merely offering a courtesy."

Aksha couldn't help but chuckle, as he had already taken a seat by the time Orson had asked him to. "Well, I admit I was overly zealous in summoning my student. I was already in Istanbul at the time, teaching others as a teacher should. As the individual I summoned was highly connected to Istanbul, I wanted to leverage the opportunity to guarantee the summoning of the exact individual I was looking for." He explained, hoping that would make clear why he had jumped the gun in the summoning process. He wasn't too sure why Orson disapproved of him, but the man from Turkey had spent many years of his life becoming a figure of controversy in certain parts of the world. Those of a certain magical circle were more than aware of his... Nature.

"Now, Mr. Anderson, was it? As for my magic, I am trained in a certain sect of Sufism. Particularly the kind taught to me by my own teacher, Hajji Bairam. You may be unfamiliar with the name. But I assure you, he was a very beloved man in his time." Simple and to the point, Aksha looked back at Anderson with a similar gaze. His eyes hidden by the mask, so that all Anderson could see was a whiteness staring back. "I expect that if you choose to come with us, then we shall have time to discuss the origins of my magical studies. I am no Solomon, but I have spent many years connecting magic to the very soul of mankind." He held out his hand, and waited for Anderson to shake. His grip was firm, surprisingly for a mage. Many would see mages as sheltered, but that clearly wasn't the case for Aksha. He had spent many years traveling the world for a reason.

"Now, Mr. Winchester, it is a pleasure to meet a fellow mage. Especially one who is preparing themselves for the upcoming Grail Wars. I would tell you my student's name... But he has just informed me that he would rather I not." There was a smile, only just visible enough. "He is rather eccentric, so I expect he is plotting to inform you all publicly of who he is in the most spectacular fashion possible upon your arrivals in Poland."

"Reverend Prichard Anderson is my official title. I am a 'hunting dog' of the holy church so to speak. Many of my brothers have lost their souls in this fight against plague spreading magisters. They seek magic that should not ever exist in polite society. Magic is meant to prosper mankind not subjugate it. I'm not interested in great power. I'm just doin' my job." Anderson told Aksha with a polite tone as his thought about the magic branch he told the group about. "Personally I prefer the name Constantinople but to each their own with their own heathen beliefs. It shall not prevent me from doin' my job. Though I must admit I have come across maybe...a handful of people who practiced that branch of magic you speak of. Its a dyin' art as long as it doesn't screw with the life of the people of Gaia I'm good with it." Anderson stated with a smirk. Leon wasn't sure what to make of all of this he was a simple boy with a simple life. He didn't know of all these grand cities he was raised in the middle of nowhere middle America so in the end it was just conjecture. Istanbul sounded familiar though not very. "I'm afraid to disappoint you my father was the one they requested to become a master. I'm just a fill in. Father holds a distaste for the tower but I want to prove myself on my own merits outside his shadow. I'm here to make myself known. I'm sure I'll meet your student soon enough I'm sure its all a matter of time."

Whilst the earlier birds were already conversing, a regal-looking woman paced through the halls of the clocktower. It had been some time since she was last here, but she remembered the way well enough. Her red dress swayed elegantly with every step, and the flame pattern seemed to flow almost like real fire with her every movement. Occasionally she'd pass a student, which then stepped aside, or stopped and stared if they were a particularly brave soul. Of course, in the same way there were also those who believed their own heritage to be better than hers, but those were met with little but a chuckle as the woman moved on. After all, there was something more important she had to attend to.

Soon enough, the woman arrived at the office, knocked on the door and waited for a response. While she'd love to simply step right in and demand the reasoning for her summons; it would be unbecoming of her. Once her signal was given, the door opened wide and the woman entered. After a quick inspection, the woman realized she didn't actually recognize most of these people, and closed the door with a sense of curiosity prodding at the back of her mind. In turn, she gave each person a slight bow, -barely more than a nod- and placed herself on the nearest free chair.

"My apologies for being a little late, there was a minor incident with the family I needed to resolve. I hope you can overlook my tardiness, I assure you it was a matter of utmost importance." And not a word of that was a lie. After all, had it not been important, she wouldn't have gotten involved... Still, it was rather frustrating that it had to be today, of all days.

"It is fine. The fact that you're here at least leads credence to the fact that you're serious about this. Considering the current situation I'm fine with people being a few minutes late." commented Director Orson as he nodded at the new comer. "Everyone this is Joan-Mary Bernard, and she will also be a master. Joan this is Leon Winchester, Reverend Anderson, and Aksha. They are all here to participate in the Holy Grail War just like you...of course as a team. None of them are directly related to the situation that I have gathered you here to take care of." Orson stated as Leon nodded. "We all have a job to do, we need to fulfill it to the best of our abilities. I may be inexperienced with the world at large. But I'm not weak but I have my concerns is this all we have with us?" questioned Leon as Orson shook his head, "This is not everyone but we have possible other suitable subjects to fill the gaps if the others don't arrive." Orson assured Leon. For his own part Leon fidgeted in place for a moment before accepting that statement. "I'd like to start the meeting as soon as possible but I understand the need to wait The more people we have the better equipped we are."

"I do prefer Constantinople myself, but nobody else calls it that these days. How easily people forget a history." Aksha sighed out loudly, tapping his fingers against his chair. But that silence didn't last long before a third master joined the group, and that masked man smiled.

"I would not call you late. Rather you are early. The war has not begun yet, so lateness would imply you had missed the war altogether." Aksha said, saluting the woman as she entered. "My full name is Akshamsaddin, but Aksha does well enough. Do you have a shorter name of your own, or must I refer to you only as Joan-Mary Bernard?" He was rather polite, and while he couldn't speak for the others, he was being as welcoming as possible.

A hurried set of footsteps echoed through the halls of the Clock Tower as a boy younger than most amongst the halls sprinted, running as fast as he could, all of his strength being put into every step he took as he mentally repeated: "I'MLATEI'MLATEI'MLATEI'MLATEI'MLATEI'MLATEI'MLATEI'MLATE I'MLATEI'MLATEI'MLATEI'MLATEI'MLATE!" as he dashed past students carrying books, and even having to pass through various parts of the building that connected to the museum.

Just a few hours prior, Joachim Heikkinen had just departed from the plane he'd arrived on, luggage carried behind him as the young boy, left alone in the almost entirely foreign environment, found himself rather lost just trying to GET to the Clock Tower. Oh sure, seeing it was easy, but the streets of London proved more...confusing than expected. Or rather, his sense of direction was far worse than he could have expected. He wasn't used to traveling, what with his studies taking up most of his life; The most experience he'd had with London was when his father would bring them to talk in person with a few Lords of the mage's association...mostly to brown nose in bids to arrange beneficial marriages that, really, never were destined to work out.

That wasn't what mattered now though; A summons from the Clock Tower, as well as an invitation to a Holy Grail War was a once in a lifetime thing for a magus of his low standing, and as such he knew that failing to even show up would be more than just an insult to them. As such, he was reasonably panicked when he couldn't find the headmaster's office right away. After being scolded by a passing professor, and finally getting instructions from a girl kind enough to give him the time of day, he arrived and slowly pushed the door open. He'd been running a fair bit, and he was frightened at the prospect of not being in time, but it seemed that so far only a handful of the other masters had arrived as well. He didn't know what kind of favor his father had to put in to have someone so...young be put up as a master for a grail war, but he knew that he couldn't lose focus. Faltering here before the already accomplished magus would lead to him being regarded as burden...perhaps he'd even be killed for his servant if he wasn't mindful.

Clearing his throat silently, he took a seat and said: "M-My apologies for being late. I'm Joachim Heikkinen; I specialize in healing magecraft. Its a pleasure to meet you all." feeling a bit calmer at having a chance to introduce himself before he took in the other Magi around him. One was obviously the most conspicuous of the bunch, wearing a turban as well as a full mask over his face. That was...a bit off putting, since he couldn't even look him in the eyes, but Joachim quickly looked at the other two present. A well built looking man, and a fiery haired woman clearly of high standing. He gulped, feeling utterly out of place amidst these undoubtedly experienced Magi...no, he couldn't feel discouraged now! It wasn't like he was completely inexperienced; He'd seen blood, mended bones, held the dying, he was definitely as prepared as he could be. Now, he only hoped that he wouldn't get laughed out. Either for his height, or for his youth. Regardless, the box clutched tightly in his hands was proof that he wasn't here as a stand-in. An honest to goodness catalyst, if just a small one, meant that he had prepared ahead of time to summon his servant. Even if it was just a chip, it was the genuine article for a summoning.

Just as soon as Jeanne had opened her mouth to start speaking, the door opened again, heralding the arrival of another master... As this master quickly introduced himself, Jeanne had to stop herself from staring. She couldn't possibly deny being suprised by his size, or rather, the lack of it. No matter how you looked at it, the new arrival was just a kid, would they really take him along to fight a war in a foreign country? It seemed... Wrong. A little barbaric, even. In the end it wasn't a decision she could make, though. If Joachim was invited to come along, and he had no objections himself, she had too little authority to voice an objection. Once she'd shaken off the initial surprise, Jeanne cleared her throat and (finally) formally introduced herself, even repeating her full name for the boy.

"Like Director Orson stated already, my full name is Jeanne-Marie Bernard, or Joan-Mary to those who have trouble with the French pronunciation. Though I feel Jeanne-Marie Edevane would be more appropriate in this particular case, since I'm here as the current head of the Edevane family." Jeanne briefly paused to tuck a stray lock of hair back behind her ear, and took the moment to observe the others' reactions, curious to see if they'd heard of her family. After a few seconds, she turned to Aksha, and answered his earlier question. "You're free to address me in any way you prefer, though my family generally calls me either Jeanne or Mary... I would like to insist on addressing me as Lady Edevane during important social gatherings, however."

As Joachim Heikkinen entered the room Anderson smiled at him, and chuckled as he came in and announced his allegiance to the church. "The pleasure is all mine. Don't worry we haven't started yet. But shouldn't you have stopped to make sure you caught your breath before you entered?" Anderson laughed as Leon smiled at Anderson's cheerful attitude but didn't say anything. Leon himself had not found issue with the church but he was raised in the backwoods but he couldn't help but wonder who exactly wonder what Anderson was to get in here. However he decided to speak up after a brief moment"My name is Leon Winchester nice to meet you Mister Heikkinen." commented the young magus as he nodded in his direction. "Aren't we all formal Miss Jeanne? I hope no one here planned on summonin' Jeanne D'arc of France. That'd get annoying to deal with naming wise." Anderson cackled as he ran his hand through his messy blonde hair.

"We have a suitable amount of masters here. Not all of them as I had planned but it will be enough. It would be for the best if we at least began to state our current situation." commented the Director as he ran his fingers across the desk in front of him was a series of picture taken from the scene in Poland. Dead mages brutally killed with sword wounds, and bizarre maulings. Other pictures showed a dark forest, and a small city.

"This is a village just somewhere south of Danzig in Poland. Roughly east of the forest that is shown in the picture. It is quite the historical area however it is now near the home to the Grey Family's castle. Using magic they have strategically placed themselves in the center of some fairly substantial leylines, and are using them to channel mana for their servants. We don't know who they're using to fight but there's reports of monsters, and humans alike around the forest. Of which is unnatural because there is not suppose to be a forest there meaning they bloody used magic to grow it, and hid it with magic. Just enough to make sure normal people don't notice. Any attempts to get into it have been stopped after the butchery of the mage scouts, and our specialists vanishing without a trace shortly after. The Greys' have no doubt summoned several servants other wise we wouldn't have reports of the extra class Ruler surfacing. What they have planned is unknown to us regardless our only choice is to attack it with our own servants. There is a small village we have set up as a 'base' therefore we intend to send you all there." commented Orson as he pointed at the pictures of each for emphasis on his points.

"Illusionist magic is not a thing to take lightly it could be covering darker magic. I assume we have plans to deal with that? It is something that executors like me, and the lad here can take care of but it appears advanced if a whole party got lost in it." Anderson stated as Leon spoke up "I believe that the Director wouldn't send us out there without help. Do you have someone in mind?" Leon questioned the Director who nodded. "It would be a student of mine skilled in all sorts of occult arts including Illusion. A prodigy of sorts in the field of countering such things. She had even unraveled some ancient magics...basic ones but undoubtedly useful ones. I will show her to you later should you agree to the terms I have for you. But for now I will answer any questions about the mission, or the Greys that you may have for me. I will warn you we don't know too much."

Joachim relaxed as his tardiness was accepted by both the man dressed in a priest's garb, as well as one who appeared to be a fellow master candidate, introduced as Leon Winchester. In addition, the elegantly dressed red haired woman introduced herself as Jeanne-Marie Bernárd, a possessing a surname unmistakable to him. He was uneased by the obvious experience these two mages possessed...and then that third one, the one in the turban and mask...just looking at him made him want to leave the room. There was something off about him, but for the life of him Joachim couldn't figure it out...aside from the mask.

Still, he didn't want to silently accept the greetings, and bowed his head once again. "I look forward to working with you all." he said, managing as well as he could in face of his own obvious lacking compared to the other masters. He felt a bit more relaxed when the man of the church laughed at his own joke, but then was reminded of the gravity of the situation with the gruesome pictures sprawled on the director's desk. Leaning over to get a good look, Joachim felt disgusted by the brutality of it all, but knew that, from the bite marks, some sort of animal was involved. "Excuse me Sir, but these wounds...do you know the Grey family uses a lot of familiars? If not, that might be something from one of their servants. I'd judge they're from canines, but if its a Noble Phantasm, it might be something far more dangerous. Also, has any information about Ruler been found? he questioned, figuring that it was best to at least get some ideas floating around.

"No, the Grey Family's use of familiars is known to be minimal. They've always relied on their tricks, and illusions to avoid conflict only directly fighting when necessary. That's what makes this even more eerie. How do you take out a dozen trained professional mages with familiars? Perhaps some sort of veiled madness clouded their minds and they were slaughtered in that moment. However if you want my opinion it is the work of one of their servants more than likely. Animals have some sort of recognizable bite wounds. And...not all of them were bites. Some of them were torn apart, ripped. I only wish that I could tell you more. Perhaps it was the work of some sort of phantasmic beast. Simply be prepared for physical dangers." Director Orson said as Leon paled a little when the possibility of it being some sort of mystic creature. He wasn't prepared to deal with something so ancient. He was a modern day mage, a young one at that...he'd need a strong servant...and that's what was inside his satchel right now. "I...I want to know if the Grey's have any potential allies we should know about." Leon asked as Orson considered a moment before replying. "Well young man they have the Branfords who live in the Netherlands. But they renounced the Greys when we denounced them publicly among the society. However Arnold Branford's son is missing...he may be a ally of the Grey Family. I heard he was promised to a daughter in their family." Orson stated as Anderson frowned, "Her name?" he said deathly serious as he looked at Director Orson with a cold stare. Orson sighed, "Arnold's family couldn't recall some magic made him forget...undoubtedly the work of the Grey clan...Or at least it is muddled by some sort of curse we will find out eventually." Orson stated as Leon sighed he had hoped for more but what he was given was not as much as he'd like.

Moving through the halls of the Clocktower at a hurried pace just short of a jog, Dieter Voigt made his way towards the head master’s office. He was running later than he has anticipated, something that he was very aware of with each passing second, but he also did not want to cause a scene by sprinting through the halls when classes were still in session; turning another corner he increased his pace, knowing that his destination was nearby.

It had been some years since he had last walked these corridors, not since he had still been a student, but they were familiar nonetheless and he needed no guidance to bring him to where he needed to be. He paused outside the head master’s office to rearrange his clothes and hair as well as to catch his breath, taking the time to make himself look presentable before he knocked on the door, opened it and walked in; he was already late after all, they were expecting him and he could hear voices on the other side.

Once inside he quickly glanced around the room, taking in the six figures already standing or sitting around the room. One his recognised as Director Archibald but the rest were strangers; others like himself perhaps. Ducking his head he stepped fully into the room and closed the door behind him. “Ich entschuldige mich.”

Correcting himself, Dieter repeated himself in English. “I apologise for my lateness.” It had been many years since he had last visited the Clocktower, and as many years since he had last spoken to his father in person. Before coming to this meeting he had taken the time to meet the man in person, to catch up and also to collect the catalyst that his father had prepared for him. He shifted the box he held in his arms to prevent it from slipping; inside was a fragment of the Trojan Horse, a relic of the Achaean expedition to reclaim Helen from Paris, the son of King Priam of Troy. The Trojan War was a battleground for many legendary heroes; whatever Servant answered his summons, with a catalyst such as this they were sure to be powerful.

His meeting with his father had lasted longer than he had expected, which was not a suitable excuse, but it led to his lateness here. Hopefully, he had not missed too much.

Jeanne listened intently to the discussion between Joachim and Director Orson, she was no expert on wounds, so their guesses were as good as hers... Probably better, even. She took quick mental notes about the key points of the conversation; The wounds were irregular, so probably caused either by several different entities, or alternatively a random application of extreme force... Then there was the matter of allies. The Branfords' son was likely in cahoots with the greys, and the greys themselves seemed quite skilled in manipulating other people's minds, which was a little worrisome. What could you trust if not yourself, after all? ...Luckily, or perhaps sadly, Jeanne was a skilled pyromancer first and foremost. She couldn't do too much about illusions... Not without a lot of preparation at least, but she could deal with forests quite well. Not to mention that if it wasn't natural, people probably wouldn't miss it right?

"So there's probably either a berserker waiting in this forest, or an entire pack of something I'd rather not tangle with... Still, if we're willing to abandon a bit of subtlety, we could just burn the forest down and smoke out whatever is inside."

It was... Quite a bold suggestion, though perhaps that was expected from a pyromancer. She didn't honestly think people would agree with this plan, either, but as her late father had thought her; it was better to have a plan and not need it, than it was to need a plan and not have one... Or in a layman's terms; it was better to speak up. Much to Jeanne's irritation at this point, another person entered in the middle of her sentence. She waited a moment for another round of introduction, but when luckily none seemed to come, she gave a quick nod to the man, and settled for stating her name instead of doing the full spiel again.

"Jeanne-Marie Edevane, or Joan-mary if you'd prefer. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Akshamsaddin had nothing to say with the new arrivals. Merely turning his head to notice them, wave, and then turn his attention back to the meeting on hand. The map in particular was of import, as he was transferring it over to the duo currently making their way to the small village. A gloved hand reached out, and touched at the forest-line, 'hm'ing softly to himself. "Miss Jeanne, it does have some merit. But we should consider that for a final resort, or an action we utilize before an attack. Scorching land has some benefits, but if they can indeed grow a new forest in a matter of days, I see no reason they wouldn't have secondary methods to defend themselves against repeat attacks of that nature.

It was clear he was a cautious man. Just the way he looked at the scenario, and seemed to be playing the long game. "We are still not totally sure if the enemy does indeed have a servant that can grow a forest like this. No doubt, we are already at a disadvantage. They hold a team that no doubt has more time spent together, and we do not. They have likely planned their servants for years in advance, knowing the best combination of relics possible. We are merely reacting to their actions."

"But, there is one thing we have over them. They are complacent. They are in possession of the grail, correct? In that case, they will be playing defensively. They have no reason to attack us. Instead, there is no doubt they will stay in base, believing themselves capable of outpacing any attack we make. Typical encounters have no advantage for us. When seven servants die, and they still possess the grail, the war is over either way. They will make the wish they want. We will be pushed on a time-limit to get the grail from them, without killing or dying." The way he explained everything seemed... Bleak. "None the less, with my servant already in play, he will have established a much stronger ground base. His personal skills after all, benefit heavily from that preparation time."

"You're cutting this short please do remember to get here faster next time." commented Director Orson rather bluntly annoyed at being interrupted before he could answer further questions but it was fine he shuffled some of the pictures towards the new comer before answering the next question. "And what comes after you burn down half the forest? All you do is draw their home into the open, and make it a spectacle for any possible civilians wandering the countryside." "Besides that the forest is clearly magical in nature be it jinxed with illusions, or the forest itself being magic. Burning it is a last resort at best like Askha has said. Besides at that point it removes the chance to pick off individual servants, and split their teams apart. The forest is just as much as an assistance to our tactics, assuming we rid ourselves of its traps, as it is to them for defensive, and privacy purposes. Likewise this sort of thing isn't unusual. The Einzbern have told me that they use to do something similar in the past with their home." commented Orson to the rather trigger happy Jeanne. He looked at Anderson who was still frowning thinking over something.

"Teamwork is a sketchy concept especially when heroes can have vastly conflicting ideals. We should get moving...we don't have the luxury for wasting time. We pick our battles but the more time we spend here in London is more time the enemy has to solidify themselves further. Let us summon our servants, and move on." Anderson interjected as Orson sighed, "Very well I believe that would be prudent, then assuming we're all done here follow me." Orson said as he stood up, and grabbed a bag of items. He then ushered everyone out of the door. "We will now move onto the next step. I have made arrangements to conduct the summoning rituals needed here. It will be done in the main hall. Be careful of what you have selected as your catalyst if it is not strong enough this bag of mine has some for you to use. I will warn you outside of those already assembled no one but the headmaster, and the needed parties have been notified. If this leaks and the true names of any of the individual servants here are revealed prematurely then you know where the leaks came from. Welcome to the Great Grail War...or perhaps that is a bit more premature?." Director Orson said to the group plainly as he led the way out of the room, and down the corridors of the main hall of the Clocktower. The time traveling through the halls was quick and as they got closer to the destination the sound of music played on a piano sounded through the hall.



Orson's face inadvertently smiled as Leon looked at the man he wondered if Orson was really a close friend to whoever was playing that music. He grabbed at his own satchel and considered what life would now be ahead of him fully aware that it was now too far gone to turn back. Leon looked forward not back as he followed Orson. He hoped down in his gut that the despair he felt at becoming a master would be overcome by his desire to be an influential factor in humanity's future. More over than that he hoped that he didn't get berserker...he couldn't imagine such a fate ahead of him if he did. Unable to talk with his servant he'd be forced into a spot where he, as a master, would need to fully embrace the role unlike any other.

Orson took a quick step across from a hallway towards a dead end with only one door, and opened it to enter a hall where the piano music was resonating much louder. It changed in tune every now, and then but it was still peaceful, and hopeful. As Orson entered the music kept playing seemingly unaware of his presense in the piano seat sat a young lady with long brown hair wearing a uniform of a student. As Orson walked up to the piano he tapped on it, and the music stopped. The young lady turned to Orson and blushed embarrassed and chuckled awkwardly. "Hello is everything prepared here my student?" asked Orson with a calm voice as the young lady smiled at him and nodded. She spoke clearly, and with elegance "Of course Director! Again thank you for letting me take the job. I told you...I won't let you down!" She said getting up after closing a spread sheet of piano notes. Orson pointed at the group assembled. "OH hey! Sorry I didn't notice you there I...I suppose you're my allies then? Hello allow me to introduce myself. Apprentice Mage! Junior Year Student! I am Monica Truman! Though I am not much to look at I promise you that you can count on me to do the just thing to the end! I am a fellow member of the Black Faction as a back up master!" Monica said as she bowed her head and body respectfully towards the group.

"I personally vouch for this one's excellence she's a bit of an idol in this school. And a personal student of my own. Let her petite appearance fool you not she is as a capable mage as anyone here if not more so. Now then...are you all ready? As I said I have a spare catalyst ready for anyone without one. However I am under the impression that each of you brought one no?" Orson said as he pointed towards the center of the massive hall where all the furniture had been either removed, or pushed aside for the dozen or so magical circles made with silver dust lined around the room. "Yes sir I have one!" Leon said as he pulled up his satchel and pulled out a small shard. "This is the shard my grand father handed to me before I left America. It belonged to the Round Table of Great Britain. The Knights of Sir Arthur Pendragon." Leon said as Anderson chuckled. "Yes yes I have one right here don't cha worry lads! I will wait until we decide on who's going first. If no one else does then I will." Anderson stated calmly.

However before everyone could go much further a whistle came from the back of the hall. A man in a luxurious black suit came walking over. He had his hair combed over with a gleam to it. His pearly white teeth glimmered brightly, and his handsome complexion was a sight to behold. The man looked like something out of an old 30's film, and he held himself rather well not hunched over, and when he spoke it was clear, and loud. "Well now sir I do say it is rather rude of you not to introduce me as well. All the same I have no issues if you do so now." the man said as he waltzed over and stood in front of the crew. "Oh yes...I wasn't sure if you had decided to come. Everyone this is Austin R. King. He is a fourth generation mage from Las Vegas. His family runs casinos among normal folks, and uses that wealth to sponsor both us, and the Atlas institution. His family is generous, and has allowed many mages to coutinue in their research where they may have not done so before. He specializes in a strange form of magic. Unorthodox as it is it is very potent. Alteration magic that effects chance. In other words he's extremely 'lucky'. He will be replacing any master who chooses to leave, or dies in the up coming conflict...assuming the servant agrees to the pact if its the latter." commented Orson as he stared with unease at King who kept his dazzling smile on display, he nodded his head, and let out a chuckle. "Well I do declare sir that in order to win you have to stack the deck...and weight the dice. No one ever won a penny without making sure the odds were forever in their favor. I look forward to working with you all. Even you Reverend." he said with a nod at Anderson who sighed, "Your hedonistic attitude irks me but we have much greater problems at hand than my belief in your foul magic." Anderson stated flatly.

"Alright then lads let's get to steppin' alright? We got a summoning to do. Everyone who needs to summon take your place at a circle." Anderson quickly rebounded giving a declaration that he was ready for the summoning sequence. Leon sighed and moved forward. He was nervous, and not sure what would come of this. As they stepped into their own respective summoning circles Leon pulled out his shard and placed it in the middle of the circle. He moved some distance away he had done his homework. Leon breathed out easily, and calmly. He held his head high as he wondered just exactly what the world intended for him after this but as he remembered he had commited to this himself. Going back would be folly, and insulting. Especially with King being right there to take his place. He started speaking loudly, and full of passion in his belly Leon shouted:

Let silver and steel be the essence.
Let stone, and the archduke of contracts be the foundation.
Let black be the color I hold the standard for.
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 of heaven itself rotate."
"Let it be filled. Again. Again. Again. Again.
Let it be filled fivefold for every turn, simply breaking asunder with every filling.
Let it be declared now;
your flesh shall serve under me, and my fate shall be with your sword.
Answer, if you would submit to this will and this truth."

Leon's words didn't falter as he spoke with a firm but calm chant after settling himself down half way through and the room shook as the incantations were responded to by the summoning ritual. The winds shook the area, and the od around the room became unstable as it began to shutter with the incantations. As the winds blew back in response to the ritual Leon was pressed onto his backfoot, but he gave no quarter to the force he stood strong against it. Then it calmed as the energy that had generated from the mass summons had finished there was someone kneeling on the ground where there was once no one.

A man in gleaming silver armor with short cut purple hair that was combed to one side. He wore a neutral expression as he knelt there on the floor. A flowing blue cape fluttered behind him as he opened his eyes. He looked up at Leon those light velvet eyes were hard, and he seemed none to happy but he wasn't necessarily angry either. Indifference? Or was it sadness? Who had he summoned?

He radiated with a certain power he was strong. His long golden blade was a sign that he was no ordinary knight. Whoever this was, was indeed beyond most men of his time. A member of the round table...a knight of Arthur. The blade glowered with a golden, and blue aura and the man stood up slowly looking at Leon. He was taller but only slightly so.

"Tell me sir would you be my master?" asked the man in front of Leon with an earnest smile. Leon wasn't able to speak for a moment. But he quickly recomposed himself. "Yes...yes that would be me. I...I am your master." Leon stuttered out in shock as he looked onto his hand where a strange red set of three command seals had taken their place on his hand. "Then you have made a mistake. You should have summoned me as berserker...still circumstances being what they may I accept this contract. Master. I am your Saber, I will fight in this war in your name." he said coldly but he nodded his head respectfully. "Make no mistake I am no great knight. I who left his honor behind for his feelings. I had one king whom I had failed utterly, and completely. However with what power I do have consider me your loyal knight master."

With what seemed to be the last arrival for the moment, Joachim relaxed as he pondered over the information they had available. He lacked any sort of combat experience, and was lacking even MORE in any combat-oriented magecraft, and as such he would likely have to rely on another member of the Black faction when it came to confronting masters. But, he doubted that the Mage's Association would bother having two magi specializing in healing fields. Jeanne-Marie's suggestion was contested, but it still served as a good backup plan in case a drawn out attack. The masked magus didn't bother introducing himself, and, the knowledge that the man had already summoned his servant ahead of time astonished Joachim. And then...it got him thinking. Seven servants on two sides, and seven need to die in order to activate the grail. Did that mean...the red faction lacked all seven of their servants? There was too little to go on, but Joachim would make sure to hang onto that thread.

The masked magus' point was well made; They were at a huge disadvantage in terms of preparation. Nobody just stole one of the most important magical items the world contains with a day's planning. That much was obvious even to him. But...it seemed that the masked man had chosen a servant perfect for bridging the gap in preparation. Rising to move for the summoning, Joachim tried to keep the anxiety welling within him from showing, keeping his head held high and following after Anderson and the director. The chance of victory, and the ever-tempting wish grantable by the grail were beyond the horizon, and this was just the first step.

The sound of a beautiful melody danced through his mind as they approached, and admittedly, he couldn't help but stare at its source. The young woman, introducing herself as Monica Truman, may have been the first actual crush that Joachim felt in his life. Admittedly...he didn't get out much, so it was just an ailment of his youth, but still. Girls were cute. So distracted was he that he was completely caught unawares of the other magus present in the room; His very smile made Joachim's skin crawl, and completely ruined the boy's one-sided fawning. This man, Austin...he creeped Joachim out more than even the masked magus, who he sincerely hoped to learn the name of without asking to keep from being rude. He'd likely already said it like, three times when others arrived after him.

Still, Joachim had come for a reason, and it sadly wasn't to be charmed by a girl older than him. Reaching within his jacket and into an inner pocket, Joachim produced a black box lined with small chains that, upon inserting a key into the attached lock, fell away from it and opening to reveal the barest tip of a bone inside. Barely an inch of skeletal matter, the catalyst seemed to radiate danger. He took great care in depositing his catalyst within the magic circle, clearing his throat. "I'll be using a piece of Heoroweard's skeleton. H-Here goes." he said, before he confidently spoke once the ritual circle was perfect.



The boy spoke with every ounce of his being, as if standing up to the world itself as he saw the air react to his plea and order; His summons succeeded. The chant he had practiced mentally since arriving had succeeded. However, the additional Od swarming the air had knocked the boy to his knees, leading to him effectively kneeling as his servant entered the material realm. As if she had always been there, a woman with hair that seemed woven of gold shone amidst those gathered. An otherworldly existence, the woman with sharply pointed ears stood, her eyes blinking as she looked at the young boy kneeling before her. Her very being radiated serenity, her pale skin and dainty figure making it clear that this was most certainly not any sort of close combat oriented heroic spirit. A warm smile crossed her lips as she gave a small, polite curtsy.

"Servant Class: Caster. I see that I have been summoned, but formality dictates a question." she said, before leaning forward slightly, tucking a lock of hair behind an ear as she offered Joachim her hand to stand. "Are you my Master?" she questioned, eyes staring straight into his.

This was...wrong. He knew that he had bones, so why...there's no way that Heoroweard was a woman in life, and yet here before him stood a woman answering to his catalyst. He had expected a natural berserker class servant, one that would perfectly suit his own incapabilities, but...it seemed that someone had chosen to answer in his stead. Too late to surpress the surprise on his face, Joachim took the strange, serene woman's hand and said: "I-I am. Joachim Heikkinen, and um...you can just call me Kim for short. A pleasure to meet you, Caster." he said, rising with her help. Bashfully drawing his hand back once he stood, he noticed the curiosity with which Caster observed the servants as they were summoned, innocently placing her hands behind her back and leaning forward to get a good look at a few of them.

After she had gotten her fill of looking, Caster would fix the ruffles in her skirt's dress, the violet fabric appearing smooth to the touch as she waited by Joachim's side. "I must confess, it is rather exciting to meet heroes of other cultures in life. I wonder if my darling will be summoned here...or perhaps on the opposition." she commented offhandedly, which made Joachim wonder...just what kind of woman did he just summon?

He was glad though, that Caster wasn't blurting out her true name. After all, for all he knew, once the Greys were dealt with, he would have to contend with the other masters for the grail, if the rumors were to be believed.

---

"I'm aware it's far from a complete plan, I merely figured I'd state the possibility. Ideally, I'd like to avoid fighting in a forest, but I'm well aware of the advantage it may offer to others."

Jeanne merely nodded at Aksha and Orson's objection, it wouldn't be her first- or main plan, either. She'd keep it as a solid plan C, though, or as a countermeasure, if the forest was part of an enemy servant's noble phantasm. Sadly, they lacked any such concrete information, which complicated the matter severely, much to her frustration. C'est la vie. Jeanne resigned, and stood up to follow as people began to leave the director's room. Though no plan had really been discussed yet, they'd more than likely come up with one after the summoning, or perhaps when they arrived at the village... Better sooner than later, though. Once they arrived at the village it couldn't possibly be long before they were noticed.

---

On their way to the large hall, an elderly man in a black tuxedo came over to the group. He gave a slight bow and wordlessly extended his arms, a large, rectangular satchel held in his hands. Jeanne took it and gave an approving nod to the man, smiling a bit as she praised him on a job well done. "Good work as always, James. Tell the family I'll be away for a while, again... On business, this time." It was a simple command, and once Jeanne was finished, the man, James apparently, bowed again and began his walk back outside. He wasn't a very talkative servant, but apparently he did his job well. And, with her catalyst now in her hands, Jeanne too was ready for the summoning ritual.

---

Once they'd arrived at the hall, Jeanne took a moment to take in the sight of the large summoning circles, and to appreciate the sound of a piano, which she hadn't heard in longer than she'd like to admit. As the piano suddenly fell quiet, Jeanne snapped back to reality, just in time to watch the first summoning rituals be performed. Confidently, she stepped forward to another one of the circles. She was done with introductions, so Monica and Mr. King's introductions were inconsequential to her right now. She'd remember their names, but summoning her servant would come first. She removed the satchel from the rectangular object within, a manuscript from the looks of it, and put the book in the circle, then took a step back. As if second nature, Jeanne began chanting. Her voice wasn't particularly quieter or louder than it had been before, instead keeping the same, regal tone as the words flowed from her mouth, coming quickly and easily.



A good moment of silence followed, and Jeanne grew a little worried. Was it possible she had misspoken? ...Just as soon as she accepted the possibility, another flux of power coursed through the air, which left Jeanne recoiling. She'd been prepared for it earlier, but when doubt set in, she'd lowered her guard. Still, unfortunate as getting blasted in the face with a strong wind is, it did mean she had been successful in her summoning after all. She wasn't the first present to successfully summon a servant, nor would she be the last, but it filled her with a little pride all the same... Then doubt came back. Instead of the monstrous man she'd expected to summon, was a scrawny-looking man in neat clothing. While this man was probably the same as the one she'd tried to summon, it would have to be the other half, and even then Jeanne had expected him to be a little more... buffed up. He didn't look like a fighter at all.

In the same way Jeanne had been observing the servant she'd summoned, her servant was observing her. Before Jeanne had completed evaluating her summoning process, her servant sighed, already having reached a conclusion. "Assassin, huh? ...I see, so that's how it is. Are you to be my master?" Surprised at Assassin's seeming disappointment, Jeanne merely nodded, after which Assassin continued. "I must apologize to you then, master. I'm Assassin, yet I'm no murderer, unlike him... And I must confess I'd rather not let him take the reins." As Assassin stated his woes, Jeanne's couldn't help but show some concern. "So you won't kill?" "No." Assassin's answer was quick and resolute, which was unfortunate, but not entirely unexpected. "Even if my life depends on it?" This, Assassin didn't have a quick answer to, but his doubts were written plainly on his face. "I understand your objections, but I will have no choice but to rely on you in the future, so please at least consider it." Assassin didn't verbally respond, but his troubled expression did nothing to hide the fact he had heard her and was thinking on her words. If push came to shove Jeanne could always use a command seal, but that'd be both inefficient and extremely unfair towards Assassin, so if there was a way this could at all be avoided, that'd be the desirable outcome.

Undoubtedly, these two were in for a rough time.

The summoning circle was already prepared for him ahead of time and the last component, the shard of wood from the infamous Trojan horse, had been placed in its centre; the only thing remaining was the ritual itself and the chant. But, Dieter was somewhat hesitant to begin the summoning, struck as he was by a last minute bout of second thoughts as he questioned once again whether or not he could do this. Whether or not he even wanted to.

There were other Master’s on standby should he decide not to do this, he wasn’t necessary. He was replaceable. And yet, he’d still come to London, still collected the catalyst prepared for him and was still standing here in this hall as the others summoned their Servants around him. Something was driving him forward, despite his hesitance, even if he didn’t know himself what it was.

Let silver and steel be the essence.
Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation.
Let black be the color I pay tribute to.
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.

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.

An oath shall be sworn here.
I shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven;
I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell.

From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power,
come forth from the ring of restraint, protector of the holy balance!

His voice was low, the chant not spoken with as much confidence or vigour as some of the others, but it seemed the ritual did not care much for such things as it worked nonetheless. Dieter covered his eyes with his arm as the swirling Od picked up again with the addition of his own summoning to the mix, coat flapping in the strong wind. When he lowered his arm he saw his Servant for the first time; tall and strong and intimidating, clad in golden armour and carrying a spear and shield like he was prepared to go to war at any moment. His crested helmet obscured his face, but beneath it Dieter could sense the eyes of his Servant on him; the sensation nearly paralysed him.

“I am Rider. Are you to be my Master?”

“J-ja.”

That seemed to be enough for Rider, or at least no other answer seemed to be forthcoming; he just continued to stare at him silently, as if waiting for something to happen. He wondered what his Servant saw when he looked at him, if the reason he was quiet was because he was disappointed with what he saw?