---

Oh? Someone who recognized his name? Based on the catalyst that had been used, and who he'd tried to call, made sense if he knew that bit of legend from the annals of Pankration's long history. Or maybe because he'd carved his name on the outside of Herc's 'tomb' after the big guy had passed on. Didn't matter either way. Assassin continued to grin, however, as his own body took on a basic Pankration fighting stance...doing so as easy and natural as breathing was to a normal living thing. He could see the body of his master, well actually 'modified' body of his master, and it wasn't hard for him to gauge the man's capabilities and inspiration for certain parts. In particular it stood out like the armor of "that guy's kid" who'd been at Troy with one of his grandsons.

"So ya wanna have a spar, eh? Copyin' the armor of one-na' Chiron's boys too. But i'll give ya a few seconds, to see how ya fare, then we gotta get started on this cup stuff.

I gotta warn ya though, i'm just an old man~"

One could not perhaps tell if Assassin was being serious, or not, at this point in time. His stance remained flexible, but taught, strong, yet adaptable. As one who had trained in Pankration for so long, Isidore could perhaps tell this man was no joke in terms of skill. Not even if he was perhaps jesting with him, which was always a possibility. This was a heroic spirit, a legend who had spawned and trained other legends, a man whose skills hadn't been seen in the world for quite a long time.

"Heh, you should've seen Herc back in the day. Handed his ass to him at first, because when it comes down to it-"

Autolycus seemed to relax his stance more, as if stopping for a second, before out of a blue he threw a sudden punch with his left hand. It surpassed human speeds, breaking into the realm of servant with a frightening ease, but was also a very direct and basic kind of move. Something a beginner might attempt to use to start a fight, even, though the raw speed of it would be something to take into accounting for the cyborg. Was he being serious, though, or was he playing around with this first move? His face was hard to read as it was, at least.

@Cu Chulainn

---

---

...This was indeed Roland, but more than she had ever bargained for with Roland as well. She could tell it with her eyes alone, those parameters, those abilities...and his class. Berserker. The class of the insane, gaining power through their madness when summoned like this. It was far from the knightly Saber she had wanted to summon for herself, though it was also a unique situation that wasn't un-salvageable either. Actually, it rather worked in her favor in a certain regard.

He saw her as his dear Angelica, the love who had cast him off to marry a shepherd. Oh so cruel...albeit understandable perhaps from the looks of Roland in this state. She could perhaps say the very word, and he would slay any "Rinaldo" or "Saracen" she pointed him at. Of course there were command seals in case things went south, but her base had been initially prepared so far at least.

"Yes, my love, you shall scatter his bones and those of the Saracens to the four winds...but for tonight, shall we take a walk outside? The weather seems so lovely, though to exist this building i will need you to go into spiritual form so we may avoid unwanted eyes..."

A lovely moonlit walk would be nice, yes? She had to scout out the competition, and already she could feel the thrum of Paris' spiritual land in her very magic circuits. This land would be hers, her castle, her kingdom that would be ruled under fist. It would be good...leverage as well for her personally. She'd sent letter to the current Second Owner on her plans should she win, but the details didn't need to be mentioned at this point in time. There was a long ways to go, after all~

Besides, testing the waters of things this early would be most interesting.

@Reflection

"What a load of busy work. Were the emperor a figure of importance still, this would surely be in their domain of work,"

Abe no Seimei sighed like something of a petulant child, watching as the unhinged Servant began their assault of a different Master-Servant duo from a pleasant park tree, resting his cheek on a palm, mask firmly in place. A safe distance was to be kept, as he did not need to be close to do what he needed to do.

"But alas, if I am to get what I desire... some work may be required, it is true," he argued to himself, needing to convince himself that -- yes, it was in his best interest to deal with people acting like absolute baboons on his mountain.

He would not make a decent king.

With a lazy flick of his wrist and the barest bit of focus, burning petals heralded the summoning of one of his many tools -- a simple bit of decorated rice paper. If the evident Berserker and her elected opponent were going to make a mess of things, then he would need to behave as he did in Kyoto when dealing with similar, ruckusy matters.

He would need to control the situation so that it did not become a situation.

The inhuman sage held the ofuda aloft, a spike of magical energy signalling the awakening of the spell within. And unnecessarily -- out of raw ceremony and flare alone -- he began to speak the powerless words.

"Desire of the World, Love of the Seeker. Be blind not to harm.
Numberless protection: Directionless Love-Stained Wisdom King,
Aizen-Myōō."

A token of respect to the spell itself, really.

For a creature such as himself, the act of 'love' came as easily as breathing. The matter of 'charming' people was a simple one, as too was patronizing such a thing as he had. A wave washed through the area, slipping beneath clothes and into ears and hears. The compulsion to leave gripped them, wiping out consideration of anything else.

Desire blanketed the area, and the people caved. It became their single driving idea, urging them to vacate and let the two Servants and Master inevitably fight. Some stumbled away, others ran as if their lives depended on it. And to top it off, they'd forget the past few minutes. Tends to happen when you completely lose yourself to something.

All the while, the fox-eared Caster appraised the situation evenly.

Clearly, the instigator of the potential mess before him was to bear the brunt of his aggression. “But still, what a boring response…” Seimei griped still, ear twitching. Entertainment was something he desired, and so the failure to provided brought him to a simple conclusion:

Create his own.

The Master of the brute, he decided, would pay for the act. The Servant would follow in time.

Abe no Seimei reached out, a hand grasping an ephemeral strand beyond the veil of regular perception.

In the distance, residing among the rubble of the building laid to waste by the brute’s charge, were fifteen lost souls. Slain in the blind rampage of a powerful, albeit senseless Servant and the command of a mundane, and also stupid, Master.

Incompetency was to be punished.

He saw them, the remnants of life and the dregs of spirit. Surprise, grief, regret. ‘Why now? Why today?’

‘Why did this happen to me?’

‘Someone, please, save me.’

‘Someone, please, save my daughter.’

‘I just want to live.’

‘God, please help.’

‘Anyone, please help.’

‘Help.’

‘Help.’

‘Help.’

So much crying from a mere fifteen, soon to be twenty-one by his reckoning. Even standing among the ruins of a town beset by oni did not have the same volume. The people of the era were far more attached to their lives, less accepting of a new beginning and ultimate finality. That was fine.

The dying desperation of a single human was a loud thing indeed. A powerful fuel for one such as him, a medium between the living and departed. He gripped those feelings with the mastery of a sculptor -- the passion of death reshaped and reformed, harnessed.

“A light punishment, as far as I’m concerned. But most often do make mistakes,” he said disappointedly. So many mistakes in the world. A shame more could not follow in his lead. “And to teach is to appreciate. Even a failure such as yourself deserves some kind of affection.”

“Dharmapala of Two Realms. Wrathful God Blessing: Penance.”

Grudge, converted into energy, converted into a curse. It did not come from himself, but from the dead. He was a mere facilitator, granting them the means to convert that feeling of passionate death into reality.

The dead rose not in the physical world, but only in the world of the brute Servant’s Master. Some burned with anger, others damp with grief. Some merely rotted, others transformed. Even the soon-dead, their spirits already halfway, distended into horrific creatures of invisible unlife, neither alive nor dead, yet both.

They lurched and lumbered towards her, the noises coming from their throats unearthly, but their message clear only to her.

It was terror, communicated to her and resonating within, her very self becoming it.

Incompetency was to be punished. The empathetic horror of those she killed would be hers -- but it was not an eternal curse, not one to burn her very soul away into the deep hours of her life.

There was a condition of release, one which obliged her liberation from the coming hours, maybe even years, of torment:

‘Kill your Servant. Go home. You are much out of your league.’

Abe no Seimei sighed once more.

“I am too nice to the young ones.”

Abe no Seimei would content himself to observe from then on, his physical body vanishing into motes in the rays of the sun.

---

In the blink of an eye, the enemy Servant had disappeared as waves of mana swept from them. Before Eichhörnchen could fully step out of the establishment. It didn't take him looking behind him to notice the franchise had been completely demolished, the sounds of destruction were enough of an indication of that.

Instead, he busied himself with his newfound predicament. That being his tumble through the air. But a simple application of floating magecraft took care of that for him as he corrected his course and set himself down on the ground. Unfortunately, it would seem that the destruction of the McDonalds behind him had sent a barrage of rubble into the air, slightly injuring Eichhörnchen as he floated his way back down to the ground

As soon as he touched down, his hands reached up to his face, securing his shades, which had miraculously stayed upon his face, between his fingers.

With a flourish, he brandished his Mystic Eye Killers off his face, surging magical energy to his eyes while leaning on his cane, the impact of his new injury clearly visible.

"Allfather, grant me sight."

Steadily making his way over to Madhisi, tucking away his Mystic Eye Killers into his pockets.

From his eyes alone it became apparent he felt a degree of anger at the sheer irresponsibility displayed by the opposing master. To expose mystery to the world at large is the greatest sin a magus could attempt to do. And even worse, if he were to win, this would mean he would have to pay for the damages, reducing his income and prize.

Dancing beams of light shone behind his eyelids, the image of the moon and it's lustrous surface awakening the burning feeling of power. Pain danced across his body, a familiar friend that had accompanied him throughout his life.

Leaning against his cane for support, he began to straighten his back and began to cast a curse of self-healing upon himself, feeding it magical energy to heal himself from his own non-substantial injuries.

In the back of his mind, he was composing several suitable punishments against the philistine who had decided to engage in a public space.

@1Charak2 @SSW @Sunglass





The search didn’t take long at all, all things considered.

Not that it was likely that his quarry was trying to hide. But when they got there... should they talk or should they fight?... He made up his mind.

Making their way through the city, circuits prepared, he walked in the night lights detectable to another magus. Well, not that it wouldn’t be hard to find him just as they noticed them due to the command seals.

“That’s definitely them, that magical energy is not of normal people.”

The voice of Elaine came, even if the girl seemed to part ways from them as they approached. The small girl slinked away, hard for any to see, through magic or through keen eyes. Even saber would note some difficulty being aware of her presence without focusing on her. A special talent it seemed.

“Got it.” Noon turned towards his servant. “Saber,” he called out in his mind. “I will trust your judgement. However let us not utilize any of our trump cards if required. This is our baptism. I do not know what to expect in a battle of the Grail War. I can only hope that I can get used to it, and the battles between servants with this fight.”

The two moved to bar the path of the other pair.

They looked cheerful, happy. Like the three did moments ago before they realized the presence of another master and servant. Did they not care of the war that they found themselves in? Was some joy so above the danger that they accepted and found themselves in? Or were they just that secure in their own power that this was a stroll of leisure that accepted no notion that they could be threatened?

It didn’t matter.

“All for my lord.” he whispered to himself before coming to a stop.

“Whether you are friend or foe you are the first other competitor I will meet in this war. Or perhaps I’ve spoken a mistake? We are all enemies, aren’t we? This is a battle with one victor.”

He held no hatred or aggression in his words. This was simply a task to carry out dutifully.

“Noon Triswich. I command you, defeat your enemies and claim the position of victor for the Holy Grail War.”

The words of another filled his ears, words that could not be heard by any of the others at the scene. It was not that he held a earpiece on him, or held some sort of mystic code that would allow him to pick up the speech of someone else not present.

Then what was it?

In response to the command his world shrinked.

His mind focused, his body shifted, transforming in how he held himself. Shifting gears, giving birth to the existence of a task.

_{“Wake up, Noon”} He heard a soft, gentle whisper.

He opened his eyes _{he did not take his gaze off of the two for even a moment}

Sight layered upon each other.

His head throbbed. In the place of his eyes he opened a new set. Eyes that weren’t his opened, seeing and filling his brain with new information.

This was within the acceptable parameters.

Information that would overwhelm a normal human and was notable even for a magus was made into something that could be processed.

He saw.

“Gawain.”

From the rectangular “sheath” of metal came a massive sword, beautiful and unblemished as it was pulled free from its comerades. Chalky white steel and silver was kissed by the embellishments of golden flowers, and a pattern of an oak tree that held not leaves but sun symbolizing weaves collecting around rubies that radiated a warmth-like aura. He took it in hand with a well-oiled motion going beyond just practiced. It was so smooth it was as if he was a machine made just for that one grab.

He could not feel the weight of the metal for he only felt the weight of the promise. Ah, how heavy this sword is, how heavy the duty that fills its every stroke.

He lifted it lightly. He was one who was born to withstand that weight.

"Let us fight."

At the other Master's appearance, Cerzelium simply nodded in reply, once again looking to his partner in confirmation before stepping forwards. He came to a stop perhaps a bit more than twenty meters from the building that the other pair stood atop; measuring exact distances based off of mere eyeshot was, understandably, not a skill the average man possessed, so it was better to err on the side of caution than risk offending the other party. "A pleasure to meet you." He said simply, that warm smile carved into his face not abating even as the Servant so casually leapt off a building and moved himself and Yazhu to the same plane as Cerzelium himself.

Truth be told, he was a bit taken aback; the physical abilities of these Servants was still something he hadn't fully grasped, but he supposed that was only natural for ones who had been deified by mankind. Just what he'd learned by observing them could be invaluable to the learnings of his family, as well. He'd have to try and send word to them when he had a chance, as insurance for the likely scenario that he lost his life in the coming day.

"A park sounds lovely." He responded in kind, looking to the Archer and Master with simple respect. His eyes dwelled on the former for just a moment, smile going wistful for the briefest of moments before returning to its prior state. "I confess, I am glad that you are not the bloodthirsty type. As much as I care for my family, they are inclined to...exaggerate regarding the negative traits of those not of the family. As an optimist, it's pleasing to see that, so far, much of that fear has been baseless. Even if we will be enemies at some point, there's no reason to be cruel about it, yes?"

"By all means, Yazhu of the Hua family, lead the way. My partner and I will be happy to accompany you."

An offer for peace. Did her pity girl act work? With a sense of relief, she loosened the grip on the watery threads, instead her eyes beginning to water as finally, an honorable magus stands before her, and not the types who are greedily looking for ways to perfect their craft. Slowly standing from the broken wood, she stumbles- slowly apporaching Tenryuu with eyes of hope.

Then the wind shifted. Almost instantly, the Saber had appeared in front of her summoned Caster and his sword raised above his head. With a screech of pure fear, she clenched the fist with the etched Command Spells. The hooded man was her familiar right? After all he did come out of the circle, so obviously commands were in order.

In a panic, the first thing she would yell was:

"PLEASE STOP FIGHTING!" A shout so loud one could swear that her voice cracked just midway and without realizing it. Used a single Command Spell to stop Moses from humiliating the already-furious, raging Saber Servant and escalate it into something worse like the explosion-obsessed magus taking it the wrong way.

She was already crying. Please just... stop fighting! I wanna rest! Sobbing like a little girl in front of parents abusing each other. sorta gay if you compare it

'Course Tenryuu is free to do whatever, she was literally groveling at her feet just whining and sobbing for all of it to end. The question is: Will Tenryuu stop her Servant from counter attacking? She did just waste a Command Spell without realizing it unless it went over her head. The faded red ring on her hand should prove it leaving only two.

@GreenGoat
@Cu Chulainn
@Indra

---

"Well, well. You're already showing such initiative! You remind me of Monkey when I first met them. Very well, go on, go forth! I will... Nobunaga studied the area around her. It was truly high-class, something was telling her about it, bothering her, screaming at her. And because it was the Nobleman's District in a way, she walked on over to an elegant-looking garden restaurant with what seems to be high-tier French cuisine.

"...act natural and stay right here so as to not attract any attention. Good luck." Nobunaga felt right at home instantly getting used to it as she tried to read what was on the menu and for some reason... could understand it. The Grail probably crammed all this information into her head before being summoned, nonetheless she decided to order some dessert. Not sure why, probably because carbohydrates help with fighting? But then she's a Heroic Spirit and that didn't make too much sense.

Or maybe she wanted to taste something really sweet after being dead for so long?

Presented with Crème brûlée and some wine, she decided to dig in with a simple teaspoon. Waving at her Master before she continued indulging in such delightful dessert.

@floodtalon

Ywain watched the knight and lady interact with a soft smile on his face. Yes, this was certainly nostalgic. Even if the two didn’t play the part perfectly, well, neither had he.

To mercilessly destroy his lady’s previous husband, then brazenly ask for her hand in marriage - the others has certainly had things to say about that. But it had always seemed like the simple, obvious path for Ywain. Perhaps he just didn’t think enough.

Of course, their reverie shattered as the reality of the war reared its head, and his Master moved towards the enemy.

Naturally, the Servant accompanied his Master, watching over him with certainty now that the presence of an enemy was known. Elaine merited protection, too, but she seemed to have her own ability to obfuscate herself

“Got it.” Noon turned towards his servant. “Saber,” he called out in his mind. “I will trust your judgement. However let us not utilize any of our trump cards if required. This is our baptism. I do not know what to expect in a battle of the Grail War. I can only hope that I can get used to it, and the battles between servants with this fight.”

Saber simply nodded. If his Master trusted him, he would naturally trust his Master, too. He looked towards the enemy pair, and materialised his sword and armour. This was the sort of battle for the ‘Knight of the Lion’, not a member of the Round Table.

He checked his ring. Currently, it faced outwards, a sign of Laudine’s love and protection.

Well, it wasn’t the type of enemy he could go all-out against. No matter how dangerous they might be - and a legendary hero certainly wasn’t to be underestimated - beauty such as that would naturally dull his blade.

His Master had already said more than was necessary. Ywain advanced, sword in hand, ready to match his enemy’s first action. At the very least, he could allow such women the first move.

@1Charak2 @Danchou @Sunglass

Oh, certainly, the shinobi was quick. Skilled, too, for few could switch between weapons so easily and quickly and still fight effectively. It spoke of years of experience, of long-honed skill borne from the shedding of blood, sweat, and tears.

But the fact remained that Minamoto-no-Yoshitsune was the greatest samurai of her age, and this Assassin, and it was an Assassin for what else could a shinobi be, was not. The assassin was undoubtedly a master of her weapons, but her forte was ninjutsu. Of stealth, of poison, of ambush. Not close combat, for that was the samurai’s domain.

Yoshitsune had been taught how to use every weapon of the samurai and more by the greatest of Mount Kurama. She had mastered each and every one, and knew their use inside and out, their stances and forms and the very ideas behind them. The spear could not wound her.

And, so, when summoned in the Saber class, how could an Assassin outside of her domain even hope to touch her with a blade, no matter how close she was?

Like rain the swordstrokes came, but all the approach did was keep the shinobi closer to Yoshitsune. And that, well, had its own consequences. Every mistake, ruthlessly punished. Every flaw, torn open. Every opening, exploited into the ground.

The best defense is an excellent offense is a saying commonly known. And thus, when faced a veritable shower of attacks, the only solution that Yoshitsune needed was simply accelerate.

Two. Four. Six. Eight. More and more and more and more and more, until the Assassin was walking backwards.

Yoshitsune did not smile. She bared her teeth.

“It’s all I’ll ever need for the likes of you.”

Wind buffeting and cutting her opponent, the endgame was near. Her opponent had failed her initial objective, and staying in melee combat as an Assassin was an awful idea. So, goodbyes would be soon.

And she would be more than happy to give a parting present.

Amidst the duel of blades, openings revealed themselves.

Minamoto-no-Yoshitsune blurred once more, and she cut.

@1Charak2 @GreenGoat

---

The people were buried, the world was ruins around around her, but it mattered not. This merely meant that she had created a grave for her opponent. She understood not the consequences of her actions, she might not have cared regardless had she the clarity of mind to realize she had killed over a dozen innocent people. All that mattered was the destruction of her enemy, to tear apart this man and scatter his remains throughout the graveyard. The other man had flown off somewhere else, she would have to crush him too after she finished with this scum.

He flew through the air with grace, landing on his feet and moving in for the attack once more with his spear. Upon seeing his weapon, Mordred roared once more, taking her right hand off her sword to bat aside the puny thing. The sheer force behind her parry would throw him off guard without a doubt, allowing her to move in closer to him to eliminate the small advantage he held over her. She was in his guard within moments, her instincts telling her to stay close to the Lancer so he couldn't utilize his superior range to skewer her. "▃▃▅▅!" A grunt of rage along with her follow up, using her left arm to swing for his torso. Once again, if this hit it would surely be followed by death, with no recourse whatsoever.

---

Oni no Hanzo
Eiffel Tower - Core District

---

"Fu...Fu hu hu~"

She obliged the samurai's push, stepping back further and further.

“It’s all I’ll ever need for the likes of you.”

A step, and her enemy moved faster, as if she too had mastered the art of distance. Just for a moment, it seemed she won, wide cuts, and deadly wounds appearing on Hanzo, before the illusion dissipated, and only her clothes remained. The cicada shell technique, easy enough for a ninja of her caliber to use. And the last trick was...

The clothing exploded, filling the area once more with thick smoke.

"Hmph. And even with your training, you still lose sight of yourself. Do you really call yourself samurai?"

The Saber's own voice rang out in the smoke, before the final stages of Hanzo's plan moved into motion. Having already prepped the land before, the ground around the Saber exploded rapidly, throwing shrapnel and poisonous smoke in the air, as two ninja jumped towards the Master, swords drawn.

Hanzo however, didn't remain to see the results of her plan, leaving it to her ninjas to observe and retreat if needed to. She herself was retreating, figuring she had pushed her luck far enough for tonight. The other Servants might or might not take advantage of this and start more fights. She could feel a few more in the area before she retreated, but those should be left for her underlings for now.

"I'm retreating for now, Master. I am sorry."

@BlueHelix@1Charak2

"Yes, my love, you shall scatter his bones and those of the Saracens to the four winds...but for tonight, shall we take a walk outside? The weather seems so lovely, though to exist this building I will need you to go into spiritual form so we may avoid unwanted eyes..."

My love? There was a pause from Berserker as he heard those words. Only now did it become more clear than ever the truth of the matter. His beloved had been bewitched, and that bewitchment had made her fear his love. But who had cast it? A saracen? RINDALDO!? Already the idea of one of those options attempting to keep her from him was... It was driving him to anger! Already his hands tightened into fists, and he seemed ready to tear either of his enemies apart. It was only Angelica that kept him there.

A walk in the park? But he had to be spiritual?
"But if I am not seen with you, how will the Saracens know you are protected!?" He gritted his teeth, as if the idea of not being seen with his beloved was torture. "If they got close to you, if they tried to take you from me, I'd kill them on the spot!" He took a step closer, that giant with his eyes glowing that beautiful hue. "I'll kill TH▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅!!"

His ranting turned to a roar, mouth open wide as an unearthly howl echoed out. Subtle he was not. But as that howl began to build, he stopped. No howling! No freaking out! If he did, he might hurt Angelica! He held his sword, and became focused. Insane but focused. "I will protect you!" His breathing was heavy, despite his form beginning to crackle. His form fading a bit more. His rage still pulsing. A desire to protect. To love. But for now... He was easing the burden of maintaining his form just a bit longer. After all, he would not burden his beloved Angelica.

______________________________________________________________________________________


Tensions were high. Could Hanzo pull off a brilliant strategy? Could the well organized ninja manage to outwit the powerful samurai!? FIND OUT RIGHT NOW! From her shrine, it was nearly impossible to keep track of everything that was being relayed. A fight that seemed to last only five seconds, but possessed all the complexity of a fight that may have been hours long normally.

"You did wonderful." That was the only message required. In fact... She was thankful Hanzo hadn't killed the other master. Maybe it was a lack of bloodlust, or perhaps... Just being happy that she wasn't having to deal with that yet. Hopefully... Maybe the other master was dead. But she didn't know that.

She was so... Conflicted on this. She wanted to win the war, but she wasn't sure she wanted to kill anybody. Perhaps if they ever ran into that duo again... They could chat and eat good food.

"Hanzo, I've decided to meet up with you at the special place we talked about earlier." She thought, adjusted her gown, and opening the little box of donations. Making sure she was ready, she stepped out of the shrine.
"Take care of the shrine, Tomokun!" She said, waving to the lone student who had agreed to come with her on such a dangerous mission. She was already sprinting away before he could tell her to get back there and help sweep up leaves.

An assassin, one who had been waiting by the shrine, was already swept up to run alongside her... Soon...

Business District...

Her goal? Ice cream with her servant. Thankfully the ice cream parlors were still open.

---

Isidore waites for his Servant's first move, his mind calculating all possible opening moves that Autolycus would perform. Indeed, as an alchemist of the Giant's Pit, Isidore's level of prediction borders precognition. And because the opponent he is facing uses the same fighting style that the Gavros had sought to perfect, it could be said that Isidore should, in theory, know Assassin's every move as well as the right countermeasures against such attacks.

In other words, Assassin's simple opening move should have been simple to counter.

However...

That speed-!

At first, it seemed as if the old man standing before him wasn't taking any of this seriouslt, even relaxing for but a brief moment. Then at the blink of an eye, moving faster than a normal human would be able to think, Assassin's punch flew right at Isidore. Quickly bringing his arms up to defend against the punch, Isidore braced against the impact the blow, nearly knocking him away if not for the fact he had absorbed most of the impact. Isidore was sure that if he hadn't defended himself properly, he would have easily been defeated. Even now, he can tell that major damage has been done to his arms. The alchemist predicted that if his Servant were truly serious about this bout, his arms would have easily been blown off.

Suffice to say, it is clear to Isidore that his body is unable to aggressively fight those exceptional human beings known as Heroic Spirits.

Stepping back, the alchemist took a knee, raising one arm in defeat while supporting himself up with his other.

"I concede, for now," Isidore replied, slowly bringing himself up to his feet, "I have gathered enough information for now."

Moving his arms around in an attempt to assess the damage done to them, Isidore began to observe his Servant through his Master's Clairvoyance. To truly stand alongside a shining example of humanity was a thought that only now began to sink in Isidore's mind. In his head, Isidore saw a plethora kf graphs and charts denoting Autolycus's parameters. Even while weakened in part due to Isidore's small amount of magic circuits, Assassin's strength and skill were nothing to scoff at, even under a such a class container. To Isidore, this meant that if he were to face off against a Knight-class Servant, he would truly have a harder time coping with their physical capabilities.

"My apologies for doubting your identity, Assassin. I had only desired to analyze both my own capabilities as well as the skills of my Servant. It's clear to me, now, that you truly are the legendary thief who was said to have trained the greatest of heroes..."

Walking back to his gym bag, Isidore pulled out two things; a shining blue sphere engraved with an ancient script that Isidore embedded into a vacant slot in his chest, and a sleek black helmet that roughly resembled a Greek soldier's, with a futuristic design fit to fully protect the wearer's head. The helmet, specifically, seemed to have been a matching set with the armor, which was made apparent as Isidore placed it on.

"On another day, I wish to truly train with you as well, Assassin..." Isidore stated, as he began to walk towards the exit, "but for now, the night is young, and we should not waste the time we have. It will be in our best interest to secure as much of this district as we can, so that our enemies may not make an attack on our base"

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Well one of them certainly seems to be enjoying themselves... Hector thought as he looked on, stifling a little yawn that fought to escape from his mouth. Although it seemed like he was lazing about he was actually quite good at looking closely at things like this. He may not have been fighting either of the two servants personally but it allowed him somewhat of a second hand idea of what he would need to expect if he were to fight them. Of course this was nothing more than a skirmish with neither side playing all their cards. Honestly he would be surprised if it was anything other than that especially with the engagement being so out in the open.

What't that now?

His attention was ripped away from the fight between servants and to a newly approaching one. Of course he had already sensed that this new arrival was drawing closer but a part of him hoped that they would be content with enjoying the show for at least a little while. Wellll welllll welll. Looks like one was drawn in after all...

He shot a lighthearted smile to the servant with the curious way of speaking. "Satisfaction eh? Well this old man will certainly try.
Don't bully me too much now nyehehe." A friendly but slightly mischievous giggle to end his introduction seemed to fit well with the situation.

Quite a delicate looking sword there... Hector thought eyeing the drawn rapier. Well I suppose they might appreciate it if I were to meet them in kind." And so Durandina Spade materialised within his hand once more as Hector carefully took a few steps back before entering a kind of exaggerated stance to gesture that he was ready. "Let's have fun with this now shall we, eh son?" Hector definitely seemed cheery with his grin all throughout this. Of course his movements were not only to signal his readiness for the challenge but also to leave space open for him to take his leave if that ever became necessary...

---

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"Aha yes, tonight is quite the wonderfu-" Lucienne stopped herself mid sentence due to the sudden appearance of their visitors.

"Hmmm, about time huh Marguerite?" She spoke to her Servant calmly and coolly, it was a smooth and confident tone but not one devoid of caution. Lucienne was a woman who had respect for her own abilities but also had a realistic view of them. If she had to defend herself she did not doubt that she could perhaps hold off any master that she may come across for at least a brief period of time. And if not then hopefully she had enough to at least cause a distraction to her pursuer, if only momentarily.

Her eyes fixated on the master who had approached them. "Caster, I trust you to deal with the enemy servant if it comes to it." She spoke to her servant with her mind this time rather than her tongue.

"Slow down a bit now Monsieur, neither of us are in a rush here~." She raised one hand to wave at the master opposing them while the other rested in her jacket pocket... Conveniently taking grasp of some of her gems that she had prepared for events like these.

"You are indeed correct to some extent Monsieur, in the end there can only be one victor... Although that would be the case if this were your normal grail war! There would seem to be two prizes here for us masters to fight for." And so Lucienne began her attempt at negotiations with the opposing master. It couldn't hurt to try could it?

"And of course there are plenty of more pairs than me and my servant here. Do you not think it would be best if we were to work together, at least for a little while? With two servants we could certainly learn more tonight than either of us could on our own Monsieur!" And so there it was, the offer was placed out. Of course part of her didn't expect this one to really pay much mind to diplomacy, they seemed rather gung-ho about the whole situation from the start.

With a click of her tongue Lucienne tells herself Ah well... I am sure there are other, more reasonable masters even if this one isn't.

“Saber.”

Within the safety of her workshop, sat in the dark on a surprisingly comfortable sofa, Cleo Forsberg reached across the link connecting the Magus to her Servant.

“Have you found anything yet?”

The Servant was currently far away from her current location, dispatched as soon as night had fallen with orders to find and observe as many enemy Servants as possible without engaging them in combat. The first night of this war would be spent gathering as much information as possible, both about her opponents and her own ally. She sought to identify her enemies while at the same time testing how well Saber’s personality would match with her own; a scouting mission that put neither her nor Saber at risk as she settled into her position as Master.

All things considered she had been incredibly fortunate to be able to summon a French hero of all possibilities, not to mention one of the famed paladins of Charles the Great himself; a knight of great renown such as Ogier would be a powerful adversary in a war fought so close to the source of his legend, but that didn’t make her so confident as to abandon all strategy and subtlety. There would be no fighting this first night if everything went as she intended, not until she was surer of her victory. Let the rest of the Master’s deal with each other while she waited and planned and prepared; the Forsberg’s were nothing if not those who looked ahead. This would likely only be the first of many nights like this.

As she waited for Saber’s report she checked in on her other scouts; a handful of wraiths drawn to her and brought into her service and fortified earlier today. In time she would have other uses for them but for now they made useful lookouts, one whom had spent the past few hours searching the areas around her apartment searching for other bounded fields with no success. Now she directed them elsewhere, diverting their attention away from building and towards the streets; half to sweep across the Foreign district and the other to search the Latin district.

Now that night was upon them it wouldn’t just be Ogier who was running around Paris. Other Servants would be in play as well and if she was lucky she just might get to see one or more of them in action before the night was over.

@ManyThings

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@SSW @Danchou @Sunglass

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Oh how she lamented such a beautiful and serene night being ruined so soon. Ah, she had just changed into a suitable outfit befitting her grace and now she'd have to well, She'd have to show her true colours as it were and as the drab browns turn to brilliant blue reds and golds. Colours that truly accented her perfected form, and truly matched her own brilliance. Ah it was an aesthetic that she could most certainly enjoy. Her Gauntlet and staff primed in her hand. With her master attempting diplomacy, da Vinci would have seconds of prep-time

Natural-Born Genius: EX -> Disengage : A

She would be loading on that skill as a precaution after all what on earth would she do if she couldn't get out of this mess! Such a poor show would truly be un-her indeed. Though, she had to admit she wasn't expecting a Saber of some description to be her opponent so early. Didn't they normally resist magecraft. That would be annoying.

"So, Sabre. Hows the night air. Is it better then what you were used to?" Caster said, making light of the scenario as she glanced at him, her mind whirring with strategy. She was not going to impede her masters attempts at diplomacy. So her movements were slow, and noticeable, she was not planning any form of attack. At the same time however she was appearing to not give the enemy any clean openings to reach her master. That brilliant smile clean on her face, calm, composed and above all else, magnificent.

Tenryuu Gensai
???, Arènes de Lutèce

---

She jerked backwards as soon as the Caster tried to attack them, even as she was trying to persuade the girl to come to her side. Even with her venomous words towards her, Chii moved first to protect Tenryuu before she even thought of protecting herself, putting herself in front of Tenryuu, in a perhaps futile gesture.

"Saber!"

Tenryuu shifted gears to start combat, just as the girl forced her own servant to stop fighting. It was a truly unexpected move, especially considering she used a Command Seal to do so. Commanding her own Servant to stop fighting as well, she knelt towards the crying girl.

"Then, would you accept the previous terms, and accept my hand?" She held out a hand again to the crying Master. "I'll bring you somewhere else that's safer than here."

Tenryuu kept an eye out for the Caster this time, making sure he didn't try shooting her in the back or something crazy. Chii herself stood surreptitiously between the Caster and Tenryuu. She did not know which heroic spirit he was, but for someone to be this aggressive, he must had been some sort of religious warlord.

@Seirei No Hai@Indra

“Grrr!”

It all happened too fast for any human to react to. In the split moment that passed between when she ordered Berserker to attack and the time it took for their opponents to notice to and react to it, Madhisi fell to the ground on her knees. Someone -- no, something that couldn’t be human -- caught her by surprise with a curse that didn’t stick but was enough to have her throw up and almost pass up. But, more important than that, it made her aware of something…

“How could I… that’s not…” she tried to process what happened just as the pain coming from her Command Seal shot up to a whole other level. Was this what really meant to have Berserker fight on her behalf? If that’s so, what would happen when…

However, now was not the time for that, if she couldn’t get back to her feet the only thing that waited her was death.


That was the only thing in Madhisi’s mind now as Lancer’s Master approached with the intent of finishing her off. Pain, grief, and the realization of her own sins, all could come later. But neither would if she didn’t finish this here and now.

With a growl and a feral grin that weren’t much unlike those of her own Servant, Madhisi pushed herself against a tree, to try and regain her footing while commanding her golem to attack.

At his master’s command, the clay familiar charged towards’ Lancer’s Master, its limbs extending in inhuman ways and turning into powerful blunt weapons. Even the toughest mage would have difficulty surviving if they were to be hit by one of these.

While her familiar bought her time, Madhisi began to cast a spell to dry up the soil nearby while the intensity of the winds grew slowly but surely. Two curses folded into one, the first to dry up the land and produce sand and dust, creating a sandstorm and the other, targeted at Lancer’s Master, a curse to make others get lost. She probably couldn’t face this mage in direct combat, but if she could disorient him she had a chance of striking a killing blow.

All that was left is wait, and hope...

---

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@floodtalon@DostHou@ItMeGritty

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Like silk on the wind Mirai floated daintily through the skies far above, swaying and swinging this way and that with the sudden gusts with little and less care to their machinations upon her. Down. Down. Slowly but certainly buildings rose up to meet her as she fell with all the gravity of a feather, until she alighted upon the top of an apartment complex and closed her umbrella- as though entirely planned, despite the seeming chaos of the skies.

Still, she was far and away from the battle, too far, and it seemed that it would be over long before she arrived at this rate. Dearest Caster, I applaud your restraint, but mercy is wasted here it seems... Still, I understand full the tax upon your patience enacted by such busywork. These matters are beneath you so allow me to pamper you a a bit more. She spoke wordlessly through the shared connection between them as master and servant- as master and familiar.

It was that same connection that she used now, as her eyes closed and his came into focus. The target of ire was identified readily, and already close to falling despite all of the great sage's mercy. Her course of action was laid out, a path to victory through him, from her, to send this dreadful excuse for a magus to hell.

Her arms freed themselves of the kimono, all six, and like a blur they wove together with speed altogether obscene. A thousand precision crafted parts that approximated six human hands moved with an absolutely inhuman dexterity as signs arcane were expressed through their motion.



The incantation itself was superfluous, as if saying what was already said. A focal aid to guide her hands as the magic they worked pried the very earth beneath Berserker's master open like a great pair of slavering jaws, to swallow her whole before she could even finish her feeble spell. The fact she could barely stand would certainly do her no favors.

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@KoL@Player 2@Floodtalon

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Lancer was amazed by the sheer strength displayed by his foe. He thought to himself could this be the one he was looking for? Given servant's aura and mannerisms he could surmise this was one of the Berserkers in the game. His skill that allowed him to open a dialogue would be useless here.

Seeing the Berserker step into his guard he quickly hopped back out of her range and swiftly aimed a trio of strikes at her.

He momentarily thought about retreating, but realised that his master would be left to contend with not only Berserker's master but the Berserker itself, which would spell demise for both of them. He had to keep this brute occupied for the time being.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile...







A fanciful mane with bleach white locks stared pensively at a cauldron before him. He didn't possess much information on any of the other 'competitors' which gave him some unease. No matter, so long as he acted with caution and only took calculated risks he could weather the oncoming storm and new information would be available to him. He waved a hand over his cauldron, dissipating the scrying spell he was using and started to make his way to the first floor of the building he was in. He passed by what looked like a normal statue of an eagle and stepped outside, feeling the cool night air on his skin.

"Come companion, let us survey the battlefield for ourselves..."

He snapped his fingers and the eagle suddenly came to life, flying throught the air and landing on his arm. He smiled and gave the metallic bird a pet, however this construct was not the companion he was calling upon...

@KoL @DostHou @floodtalon @King Cosmos

Montmarte, moving towards the Business District

---

Wynter followed Archer as they went through the business district towards the Opera House. As they passed through the open-air markets she spoke up. "... So... What all do you want to do, now that you're alive again? Things have obviously changed quite a bit from your era, plus we're in a totally different country... Oh! What should I call you, anyway? We should probably hide your class and of course your name is a no-go, so..."