Tonight.

She had once again made a visit to the overseer, once again asking if they could just properly start this. No doubt most of the other Masters were already in place, so what good was it to hold off on starting? Yet she had been insistent they hold off and wait--what if this war were to be abnormal? What if killing a Servant early somehow lead to another manifesting? To make sure everything remained as secretive as required, the Church forbade taking any action...

Having to listen to the church was galling, yet it was unfortunately necessary. Even with a Servant by her side, taking on the Church was hardly a good move--and it would allow them to focus all of the Masters on herself at once.

Astariel drummed her fingers on the rough handle of the stone blade. As if that would have been a problem if the old man had listened, and allowed her to use this as a catalyst once more. What were the chances that a second war would have stood a chance against Heracles? Controlling him would still have been no problem, and if he was that averse to repeating a failed attempt then they could have used any container but Berserker. But he had been the one with the potential catalyst and insistent on trying something new.

At least Saber wasn't weak. Or, she assumed so; it was hard to imagine summoning a weak Saber, especially one that could so greedily draw on her own vast mana reserves. That, without catalyst, she hadn't summoned something from the Nibelunglied had been quite the surprise; as the owners of the Rheingold, it was almost the only obvious choice for their family to summon without influencing the results somehow. Yet, this blonde had been summoned instead of Siegfried, it was quite unusual.

But, her visit had paid off. Either the last Servants had been summoned, or enough, or the church had some premonition. Finally, the war would be allowed to begin. But that was tonight.

First... first, she would have her maids make her a cup of tea. And draw a bath. Then, maybe, there would still be time to visit one of those little bakeries she had seen? Obviously, the maids could make anything she asked for, but that required knowledge of what it was... and it would be more efficient if she wanted to try lots of things...

---

At the church, the war's overseer seemed... bored. As it turned out, being the overseer of the war demanded little time and attention--and unlike prior overseers, she had almost no parochial obligations, having only come to Japan for the sake of acting as the church's main representative in this war. Many of the Masters had already been through for one reason or another--the Einzbern being particularly demanding and impatient--and now it seemed that the start of the war was imminent.

Maybe having to actually maintain secrecy would be more exciting? It would no doubt be more interesting than furthering her Japanese lessons, given that it seemed nearly all of the Masters were foreign and would rather that she spoke something else instead.

Hopefully the last one wouldn't give her any funny looks. Yes, a nun was in charge this time rather than anyone of higher rank. Yes, her hair was silver. No, she wasn't albino, or a homunculus, or anything other than a human. Could they stop asking?

---

Though the Einzberns found themselves anxious to begin and the Overseer found herself simply cursing the slow pace of proceedings, there was little doubt that the arrival of the eve of the Sako Grail War was a formality at best. Though it seemed none had been bold or bloody-minded enough to initiate the ritual early, any magus worth their salt would have been on the move from the moment they arrived in the city, getting a feel for the lay of the land and identifying advantageous spots to lock down in their favour, while keeping an eye open for anyone foolish or brazen enough to court an early fight.

Perhaps if she'd happened across any of that last category in the week she'd been here, Beatrice would have felt more at ease. A premature brawl or two would have at least served to take the edge off of proceedings, but as things were, Sako was eerily devoid of any sign of the coming War other than her own presence and that of the woman waiting ahead.

"Nothing more on your end?" She asked, seemingly to no-one in particular, as she picked up her pace through the darkening street. With the sun still cresting the sky, and this close to the site, it was unlikely anyone would risk incurring the Church's wrath; but between what she knew and what she didn't, it was best not to tarry.

"Nothing yet. I would not doubt that another pair has been by this way, but not so recently or so near us now that I could sniff them out. The rest is your purview." As though stepping out of the shadows of the street itself, a tall man joined the woman as she hurried along. His long, relaxed strides had little difficulty keeping up with her, the man glancing around with a disinterested air. "It is merely ordinary here."

Not that he expected his saying so to do anything to ease Beatrice's mood, but for a moment he hoped it might anyways. Gradually growing far more important than their current search, however, was the approaching sunset. Sako, as he had fast discovered, was not a large city with a vibrant nightlife. It was small, peaceful, and grew even more still under starlight.

"We should not be wandering about like this. If the battle is to start as soon as you say, you would be wiser to secure a position than to continue ferreting out whatever scraps you can."

"I know, I know," the woman replied to the man, with the tone of someone whose intentions had been pre-empted a few steps ahead of schedule; not irritated as such, but coolly focused on seeing things through as planned.

"If we haven't found anything by now, we're only putting ourselves at a risk by dragging out the investigation into the start of festivities," she continued, opting to concede the point to her companion. At the same time, however, her voice lingered on that last word for long enough that it was unclear how much was sarcastic and how much was genuine, unfettered excitement. "But we have time yet, and we are here on business. One last rendezvous with the fair Sister, and then we bunker down and see who's feeling lucky tonight."

"Hmmph. I hope your misplaced priorities do not result in a sorry fate for the both of us."

As they spoke, they cleared the street, stepping out into one of the city's open spaces. Nestled within the small park was the city's church, a stalwart building harkening back to the Gothic Revival of the 19th century that would have stuck out like a sore thumb in Sako even if it hadn't been confined to a small island of green amidst an ocean of either modern or traditional Japanese architecture. Despite its apparent austerity, however, it carried an atmosphere about it that made one feel at ease, as if the church were a guardian against the world outside its walls.

Beatrice had no doubt that was by design, but whether those designs belonged to the missionaries who had constructed it centuries prior or the party that currently occupied it was more of an open question. As of yet, there was no ironclad reason to suspect a repeat of the unfortunate circumstances that had arisen out of the previous arrangement; but all the same she couldn't help but be reminded of a carnivorous plant, resting invitingly among the trees as it waited for some fool to wander unsuspecting into its jaws.

The tall man's stride slowed as they approached the spired building, gazing blankly up at the arched and windowed façade. His eyes narrowed slightly at the sight, before he turned away from the building. "Be fast about it. I would prefer to avoid getting caught out in the open like this." As soon as he spoke the words, he seemed to disappear again in only another couple of steps.

"Sentimental and skittish?" The woman jabbed at the disappearing man, though it was more a matter of pride than conviction, and they both knew it. The open space of the park suited the Church, affording them a broad field of awareness of anything that approached their base of operations, but it was better suited to discouraging a Saber or Berserker from getting any funny ideas than keeping interlopers sheltered from the attention of an Archer or Assassin. So long as Lancer was with her, however, she felt confident in her decision.

"Spare me the criticisms. There's a natural choke point in the trees at the north end of this park. Seems our architects were preparing for having to make a quick escape. If anything happens, run there and circle back around towards the town."

"Got it." Not that she'd give him the satisfaction of admitting it. But they knew where they stood at this point, and she didn't have any intention of dragging this out longer than necessary, either. One last visit to the Overseer, one representative to another, and then it was time to get to work.

---

---

@Octo

---

"Mata ne!"

I call out, waving behind me as I push open the door facing the street. The old man futher back calls something out in response, but with the sound of the city outside mingling with the noise made by those working within, I'm unable to clearly hear what he says. Not that it was likely anything important—a "see you tomorrow" or "have a nice day" or something like that, if I had to guess. He's been very welcoming so far, putting up with me dropping in every day to train for a bit.

That's the benefit of having world-wide connections, I guess. One of the trainers at the boxing gym back home is friends with the guy that runs this one here in Sako, so I was able to avoid most of the awkward questions and introductions and all that came with walking into a new gym. They'd even had someone ready to spar with me.

Now out in the muggy summertime air, I shrug, trying to adjust the pack on my shoulders a little bit, before wiping at my forehead.

"Ugh, sweaty." That's what I get for not showering at the gym. Of course, this way I could get away with still having my hands wrapped up, jogging back to where I was staying. Not long after I'd landed in Osaka, some unsightly bruises started to show up on the back of my right hand. They'd been a bit annoying to hide, and while they didn't hurt—even scratching or poking them directly didn't do anything—I've only been getting more and more concerned by them.

I really ought to see a doctor if these don't go away soon.

(I've already said that to myself three times now.)

Shaking my head, I start jogging along. The ryokan where I'm staying is about three or four miles from the gym, a bit past the far end of the city to the southeast. It's a good distance to keep the cardio up, especially coming this direction, where it's uphill. Sure, I might already be tired from running down here in the morning and then checking out the city and boxing the rest of the day, but I'm not trying to set any speed records here. Just a jog.

Left, right, left, right. In and out.

My stomach grumbles as I jog past a small street stall that's already started cooking food, even though it's only the middle of the afternoon. I know if I detour down the alley it's in there'll be a few more that are starting up the same as it—Sako doesn't really have much of a night life unlike the larger cities, and not as many businesses running quite as late, so these vendors have to start up earlier than usual if they hope to make anything before the weekend—but I can't really do that right now. I'm all sweaty, for starters, and on top of that, the owner of the ryokan is expecting me to show for dinner like I have been, and I really don't want to insult him or his business by showing up late and messy.

But, something else catches my eye.

Was that a flash of red hair, on a really tall woman?

Weird. This isn't much of a tourist town, but I remember seeing what I thought was a girl with platinum blonde hair wandering down around the shōtengai a day or two ago as well. And maybe a couple of other foreigners? Of course, there's also an old Jesuit mission church on the edge of town, and there's a few universities associated with the church overall in Japan. Maybe some of them are students coming out just to see some of the old churches?

Maybe I ought to go to it soon. It might be interesting, and I might get to talk to some of these other non-Japanese I see floating around.

I try to peer down the side street where I saw the redhead, but it's no use. With another shrug, I start jogging again.

---

Even at the relaxed pace, it doesn't take me long to get back to the inn. Walking through the grounds, I'm still delighted at how lucky I was to find a place like this—it's not a normal ryokan, with the various rooms all as part of one building. Apparently, back before Sako had really grown into much of a city, there were a few smaller villages spaced out around the general area, and the cluster of houses that had made up one of them had been bought all together and turned into a sort of decentralized inn, complete with modern power, bathrooms, and baths pulling from a nearby onsen.

Not that I was going for a bath today—maybe if I was just relaxing, but I still had to be ready in time for dinner, so it was the shower I chose this time. Hands unwrapped, clothes set aside, just washing the sweat off of me.

My hand itches.

Really itches. Why does it itch so much?

I look down at the back of my right hand, where the bruising I'd noticed before has...

Changed?

"What? How in Hell..."

I definitely need to see a doctor, but I'm not sure if it's because I'm imagining things or because the bruising is some weird rash instead. I now have an unfathomable geometric pattern stamped on the back of hand and wrist. It almost looks like it was dyed there with henna, but I know I didn't go and do that. Was I bitten by something? Did I scratch it and get some sort of parasite? Maybe that's what this is, some weird parastic infection. Gross, but not impossible to deal—

The air inside the house pops, like it was suddenly compressed or displaced, and I hear a few things falling over in the main room. I shake my hair out a bit, turning off the shower, and wrap a towel around my waist before I step out to see what's going on. My best guess is that a storm might be starting up outside, and a gust of wind blew something into one of the sliding doors, but that wouldn't really explain anything falling over, unless I'd left a window open...

I peek my head around the corner, and immediately duck back, my heart set to racing. Definitely not the wind.

There's someone in my room!

I peek again. They haven't noticed me.

They look to be my size, fiddling with the handkerchief I'd picked up when I spent a bit of time in Germany before coming to Japan. They've got some sort of...robe or cape draped around their shoulders—

That's weird.

—and they've got shining blonde hair. Another visitor, maybe, who got turned around and walked into the wrong house?

But I know I didn't hear the doors sliding open. I'm sure of it.

"Hey, are you staying at this ryokan too?" I ask, and as soon as they turn at the sound of my voice, I'm glad that I've only got my head peaking around the corner. Maybe if it was another man I wouldn't be quite as embarrassed at the thought, but a woman in the room, while I'm just out of the shower and not even properly dressed...

I don't think I'd ever be able to look on the memory without cringing. I really should have pulled on the nemaki.

"Look, you speak English, right?" I certainly hoped she did. It'd be bad if she only knew French and Japanese, or German and Japanese, or something like that. I don't know enough Japanese to get by in that sort of situation, let alone any other language. "You've got the wrong house, dude. Didn't you hear the shower going and get a clue from that?"

---

When the silver-haired man had first been called to this era, his mind had been awash with all the possibilities of the modern age. Gaia one foot in the grave and the time of man ever closer at hand? What a joy to behold, and what a time for him to snatch hold of his fate once more!

The more he acclimated, however, the more that excitement turned to disappointment. The Grail War was a compromise he could about accept. Though it picked at his pride and patience to be reduced to little more than a glorified familiar for some braindead vulture, the concept and potential of the Grail itself was more than ample to soothe his displeasure there. The man whose call had sprung him him from the clutches of the infernal seemed like an interesting enough individual to play along with for the time being, and the arrangement that they had thus far operated on suited him; familiarize himself with the city while keeping an eye open for other Masters and Servants, refrain from engaging until they had a clear idea of the dynamics forming in the war. It wasn't wholly divorced from his own strategy; perhaps a bit too passive, but there was time yet to talk him into wholeheartedly pursuing the glory of victory.

If only the reality of the stage that had been set for this grand endeavour matched that concept. The word 'podunk' did Sako City little justice; the Grail had filled his head with images of humanity's progress, grand cities with towering buildings that stood as monument to their triumph over the slavering jaws of the planet, and here he was confined to some miserable, rainy little backwater hamlet on the far side of the world? Things really never changed; for all they spoke of elegance and lofty ideals, mages couldn't help but lower themselves to the level of rats squirming in the muck.

"Ah, sir, you can't smoke here!" But before he could spiral too much into that train of thought, a voice from off to the side pulled him back to reality. He blinked, turning his head to see a woman with a worried expression on her face and, more importantly, a tray in her handswith a fresh cup of coffee sitting atop it.

Ah, he'd gotten caught up in his thoughts again.

"Oh, this?" He flashed her his best smile, fixing his sharp golden eyes upon her with as he took his cigarette from his mouth and held it between the index and middle finger of his left hand. With sunset only an hour or so away, he'd decided to indulge himself and make a stop at a café in Sako's shopping district. Being that its position on the balcony of the third floor of the building it occupied afforded him an extensive view of the main street running through the center of the town, his keen vision allowing him to see a person over a mile away and pick out details from their hat down to their shoes, it hadn't been too hard to justify the diversion to Kilian. He hadn't mentioned the wallet and cigarettes he'd taken from one of the tourists he'd passed on his way to the café, but the man had acquiesced to providing him with a selection of modern clothes. As far as he was concerned, he might as well go all the way with blending in.

"My apologies, it's been a long day." And a long week, and a long... well, it didn't really bear thinking about. The more he thought about how vast a span of time he'd spent in the Black Ranger's clutches, the more vivid the experience became in his mind. As meager as it was, the cigarette helped with that, and so he'd rather not have to put it out.

"Here's a thought. Let me have this, and I'll let you have this," he continued, a crisp ¥10,000 note seemingly appearing out of nowhere in his right hand. He'd much rather have told the woman to mind her own business, but it wouldn't do to draw too much attention to himself. Nobody short of another Servant or someone who wasn't already looking for him would be able to perceive him as he sat there, faint black aura suppressing his presence, but that could soon change if she made a fuss. "What the manager doesn't know doesn't hurt him, right?"

"But-" She stammered out, her eyes widening at the sight of the note- but a moment later, and she seemed to bite her tongue as a second note appeared in his hand.

"Go on, you know it makes sense." It was probably entirely too much money to throw at a problem so easily solvable, but he really didn't care. By the time the fool he'd swiped the wallet from realized what had happened, he'd have moved out and on. If whatever he'd taken from him could buy him a few minutes of peace and quiet, it'd be worth it. "Coffee smells fantastic, might grab one to go once I'm done."

"..." Whether it was for the money or for the similar convenience of not having to argue, the woman gingerly took the notes and, putting the cup gently down on the table, quickly made herself scarce. Either way, he considered it a small victory against this miserable humdrum town.

'Could be worse,' he thought to himself, taking the cup and taking sip of the hot black liquid as he watched the woman disappear through the French doors back into the main café from the balcony seats. It was bitter and a little thin for his tastes, but for the time being it may as well have been manna from Heaven. So his sip became a deep swig before he sat it back down and, returning his cigarette to his mouth and taking a drag, turned his attention back to the streets below.

On this warm midsummer evening, the shopping district was as about as busy as it was ever going to get. People flooded in after work and school to meet up and talk meaninglessly about their banal lives over cheap food and vapid window-shopping, and the handful of tourists about the crowd made themselves easy marks, whether that was through being taken in by the lights and colours of the boulevard or offering him their cash to make the interminable game of waiting a little more bearable. There was still no-one among that crowd that sprung out to him as a target, but the day was yet young. He'd wait here for Kilian to contact him, or for one of the mages who had come to this city in pursuit of the Grail to tip their hand and wander out into the open.

Either way, once the sun finally vanished beneath the horizon, Archer could finally get to work. He may not have been dealt the finest hand in this second life, but by hook or by crook, he was going to make it work.

---

If one were wholly unoriginal, grim, and expecting the utterly passe, they would likely have expected Rumi to set up shop in a graveyard the moment she arrived in Sako. She did not. Instead, she'd shown up with forged mortician's credentials, hypnotized the supervisor into believing he had six months of PTO and to spend it on a trip to Brazil, and entranced the remaining technicians into being her thralls.

She'd brought the majority of her Mystic Codes along with her, given that they were rather portable and unlikely to trip airport security, but Aulus had to be specially shipped from London. He'd only just arrived, and with the defenses Rumi had set up in the morgue, that resulted in her preparations in the city finally being complete. She had a proper base of operations, magical defenses, and her Servant. Who was out right now, doing god knows what. Hopefully, the sane half was in control. Honestly, when she'd summoned an Assassin, she'd been hoping for one who'd actually take orders. But this was the hand she was dealt. Fortunate that winning the Grail War was secondary to seeing if this one was even legitimate, or it would have bothered her far more.

As it stood, now that all of her preparations were finished, there remained a few choices left to Rumi. She could do the proper thing and announce her presence to the Overseer at the church. Or simply continue to gather information and shore up her defenses. After some deliberation, she'd come to a decision. Better to avoid suspicion for now and play by the rules. Rules that would be broken sooner or later, judging by Lord El Melloi II's recollection of the Grail War he'd taken part in, but it never hurt to at least keep appearances up.

"Assassin." She called through their shared link, rising from her office chair. "To the church. I trust you'll keep an eye on the path there for me?"

___



Some people would consider this modern world he'd found himself in to be emblematic of humanity's weakness. That the majority of mankind had gone soft. Weak.

Those people were utter fools. What he saw was a species that had overcome every unnatural foe that had come at it, and prevailed to the point where they were the only predator left. Even accounting for the third world, the average quality of life and life expectancy far exceeded that of Rider's own era. Moreover, the average person lived with wonders that far exceeded anything the Middle Kingdom of his time could ever conceive of, even with the sages wielding Magecraft.

So how could he not be taken with the wonders of the current age? Rider couldn't help but let himself have something of a crooked smirk as he strolled down the streets of Sako in a two-piece suit, idly indulging in whatever fancy took him. He wasn't completely unaware, of course. If any opposing Servant actually tried anything, he was entirely capable of responding immediately. But as his Master had no specific orders other than to get the lay of the land, he'd take advantage of the wording of the command.

After all, he fully intended to stay in this world well past the Grail War. Even with the information the Grail had implanted into him, it was better to experience the world first and foremost. China, home, was just across the sea, and he would make his return one way or another.

His musings were cut off when the appealing smell of something foreign wafted across his nostrils. Coffee, his Throne-implanted instincts told him. Why not, then? Rider took a seat at the first cafe he saw, giving the waitress a brief smile.

"The house blend, if you don't mind." He ordered. As the girl scurried off, Rider looked around the outdoor seating area. Something seemed to be off, and-

A man with a presence far greater than any around him seemed to be sitting just a few tables away, smoking and having a coffee of his own. Wasn't this just his luck?

Rider smirked, and stood from his table, grabbing the chair to take with him. He plopped it down at the aforementioned man's table, and sat down with a smarmy grin across from his fellow.

"No, no, don't get up on my account. No need for hostilities just yet, is there? We're just having a drink, is all." The waitress didn't miss a beat, setting Rider's coffee down at his new seat with barely half an eyebrow raised in question.

Ludwig casually admired her old handkerchief. If nothing else, her Master must have excellent taste! Gorgeous embroidery: a beautiful swan spreading its wings, as if about to take magnificent flight! For that handkerchief to still be in such good shape was only natural. The finest quality for the finest king. This one was...

Matilda. She could tell, even at a glance. The peasant girl who had fallen and gotten mud all over her beautiful face. Well, Ludwig couldn't let that stand. Of course, she had helped the young woman up. Of course she had dabbed her cheeks, and of course she had left Matilda with a token of their fateful meeting.

She wondered if Matilda had sold it, or had kept it until her final days. Well, either way, it was a gift. Once it left Ludwig's hands, it was hers to do with as she desired. That was, perhaps, the way of-

Ludwig turned her gaze towards the confused-looking young... man? That called out to her. She had specifically wanted to be summoned only by damsels in distress. Well, maybe it was a woman? They had a cute face. Either way, they were addressing her, and it was almost certainly her Master. Regardless of gender, their grand adventure was about to begin! Ludwig smiled brightly, and with shamelessness and grace, approached her young Master.

"This dude does, indeed, have the right house," she announced grandiloquently, "for you are my Master, and I your knightly Servant, here to deliver you from the horrors of this Holy Grail War! Worry not, my lady, for the legendary knight-hero-king Ludwig II has arrived!"

---

It was... an odd feeling to have summoned the Antichrist.

A bevy of holy relics were present as catalyst for the ritual, which Lucia had been walked through by a bunch of scary-looking old men in Vatican City. They had expected a Saint. George, Martha, Jeanne... all equal to the task and paragons of faith. A spirit that even the church could respect.

All attendees were flabbergasted when Nero introduced herself.

That Nero.

But as the old men began discussing whether or not there was a way to send her back, Lucia stood firm. She didn't like it. Of course she didn't like it, but for Nero to appear in front of so many holy relics was nothing short of a miracle, and miracles were the domain of God. She saw this as a sign.

Lucia was meant to redeem Nero. If that woman could be redeemed in the eyes of the Lord... if the suspected Antichrist could be saved, then it would prove that anyone could be. It was an incredible task, but if Lucia was chosen to take it upon herself, then she knew it must be possible for her. God believed in her. God knew that she was kind and just and right. It was with this attitude that she initially engaged with Nero...

But that didn't last long.

As the two toured Rome, Lucia introducing the new and Nero introducing the old, it became remarkably clear that Nero wasn't quite the person the church had imagined she was. Lucia tried to be suspicious. She tried to notice the serpent through its honeyed words, but the woman was remarkably genuine and had an unimpeachable charm. Was this really Nero? Who was Nero?

Lucia was still figuring out her feelings as the Sako Holy Grail War was about to begin. On this beautiful evening, she was picking herbs from the garden she had recently started just outside the church. There was so much open land around, it would be a shame not to utilize it. She'd already finished the focaccia dough, and just needed to put together the toppings before it headed into the oven. As she knelt, humming happily while she snipped some rosemary, she noticed a woman approach out of the corner of her eye. She stood, and brushed off her habit.

"Lucia," she addressed Nero gently, like a mother or an older sister. The Emperor was a whimsical girl, and Lucia feared that if she didn't give her plenty to do, Nero would blow their cover faster than was strictly healthy. Of course, the rouse would likely not last the whole war regardless, but Lucia did have a boon. Most command seals appeared on the hand, but Lucia's was... elsewhere. It was an oddity among oddities, that most Masters probably wouldn't even consider.

A blessing from God.

"Could you please ask the overseer what she'd like on her focaccia, and inform her that we have a guest?" Lucia entreated, smiling gently. Nero was, at this moment, among the flowers she had also planted. Lucia's goal was to make the churchyard significantly less drab and significantly more beautiful before she left this place.

Whether or not Nero was keen to listen to her was another story, but Lucia greeted Beatrice with a friendly wave and her loveliest smile.

---

As Lancer fell back, opting to honour the plan and the agreement laid down by the Church despite his reservations, Beatrice kept moving, her eyes scanning about for any interlopers. Despite her rebuffing of her Servant, she wasn't unaware of the risks, merely confident that, between the two of them, they would easily be able to respond to anyone foolish enough to try their luck this close to the lair of their natural enemy.

It did come as some surprise, however, when someone opted to reveal themselves. At the sound of movement from round the side of the church, her head turned and her slow approach ground to a halt, her amber eyes locking themselves upon an unfamiliar individual coming forward to greet her. A young woman of average height- or perhaps a little above average for the locale- dressed in a nun's habit and with a graceful air about her that made itself apparent even at a glance. She was a rather fetching young lass, and Beatrice may have been taken in by her smile if not for a few details that suggested a more interesting situation. As enchanting as they were, her golden blonde hair and emerald green eyes were colours that skewed far from any she'd observed of the rest of Sako's population.

She'd already met the Overseer, and though the woman would have been out of place anywhere, that came with the territory. No doubt there were others who resided at the Church, but if she rightly recalled, they were locals, and had been relocated for their own safety besides. The obvious conclusion was that she'd come over with the fair Sister, but therein laid the question; who was this young woman that the Church deigned to have her be here at this fateful moment in history?

<Be alert, Lancer,> She intoned to her Servant across the psychic bond she had furnished them with, as the young woman approached them. She blinked, and the man would be able to see what she herself was seeing. <Seems like the fair Sister isn't the only one the Church sent.>

"I cannot say that I am surprised, after what you told me of the last wars. I doubt they intend to risk their own opportunity to claim this prize."

Indeed, even if they were charitable enough to take the Overseer at her words, it was no secret that the Church's interest in the Grail War extended beyond merely ensuring that the participants followed decorum. Though she'd sidelined the matter to investigate Sako for traces of the new Grail and those responsible for it, she'd suspected that the Overseer had summoned a Servant of her own to pursue those interests. This girl's appearance merely deepened those suspicions.

<Of course, though let's not act hastily.> Or perhaps more appropriately, broadened them. The young woman's stance didn't present any trace of hostility, or even reservations about approaching a potential enemy; and without the certainty of knowing who she was, that could be either mere placidity or the poise of a Master. Either way, however, this was a rhythm that Beatrice was used to negotiating. <Seems like we're not in any immediate danger, and we might be able to figure more out by playing along.>

"Funny. I was about to suggest the same thing to you."

"Good evening," she responded to the girl as she tuned Lancer back out, the whole span of their exchange only seeming like a moment's contemplation on her part. It was unlikely that she didn't have at least some idea who she was, but for now it made sense to return courtesy with courtesy; and so while Beatrice kept her body language reserved and limited to a polite nod, she likewise offered her a smile. "Hope I haven't interrupted anything, but I'm here to speak with the Overseer?"

As she spoke, her eyes moved past the girl, looking around for any telltale disturbances that would indicate a change in her understanding of the situation. Nothing as such, but... was that another girl a short distance away?

"What are the odds...both of them are blonde. Try to keep yourself out of trouble."

---

Kilian had not been in the country nearly as long as he would have liked. Granted, a part of him would rather not have bothered with this entire song and dance but the call of the command seal was not lightly ignored. If it was a proper, old Grail War, the clamor would have been even more obvious, more driven, far more political maneuvering between those who wanted power and those who, by the seemingly fickle nature of the Grail, were selected to stand as Masters for the conflict. Master, a humble title in the face of it, but one that held a dangerous mixture of independent action and intense self concern. Coupled with the seemingly random nature of selecting a Master of the War in normal circumstances, well, it made predicting and planning dangerous. Of course, this was no ordinary Grail War, oh no, that would have made things too, well, easy wasn't the word. Predictable, maybe, but almost nothing about this could be considered predictable.

The man mused to himself as he prepared his safehouse, at least one would assume it was a safehouse. The exact location was not pertinent for now, rather it was a rather modest, utterly unassuming looking rental property, one that had no idea to what was about to be hosted in Sako City. Kilian was dutifully reinforcing the location's warding and magical defenses, runes being employed to apply far more permanent, far less immediately noticeable effects. Each Rune hidden out of physical sight, ready to spring alive at a moment's provocation. In reality, if one were to breach the defenses and reach the innermost sanctum, by virtue of escalating defenses, they would be surprised at what they would find no doubt. But that was for an eventual deliberation, as of right now Kilian had done all he could to the property to prepare. For now, it was the waiting game for the War itself to start proper.

Thus far everyone seemed to be playing by the old rules, something that suited Kilian fine for now. Play the game, follow the motions, watch and see if this contest was worth betting it all on. He had no promises, no certainty that this Faux Grail War would provide anything close to what he desired. His own Wish should this prove fruitful was, by many metrics, rather mundane and theoretically attainable without this whole contest. All the more reason to not play too risky, too desperate when this many pieces remained on the board, to use a boardgame analog. Of course, the Masters were only half the puzzle, as he was reminded of rather clearly when he happened to have summoned a most curious Archer indeed.

Archer, a man who, upon initial interactions, proved to be the kind of amicable Kilian was. Initial discussions had proven pleasant enough, by all accounts, and Kilian had agreed to give the Servant leave to learn the lay of the City, observe the other pairings of Master and Servants where possible, but do not engage yet if at all possible. It was too soon to strike, not when it was unclear whether or not alliances could be struck until the more powerful, more isolated duos could be removed from the board of play. He had no considerations that Archer, alone, could handle an entire Grail War on his own. But only a fool assumed that, even in a contest where there is only one victor, that the other players could not be useful in the moment, when greater threats abounded. As such, Kilian knew it was wise to depart for the Church, to formally announce his presence, and see which other Masters decided to play by the same rules. In the same bond that the other masters shared with their servants, Kilian would inform Archer of his plans.

<"Archer, I will be departing for the Church to speak with the Overseer, and get a measure of how the other Masters might play the game. Do let me know if anything interesting comes up before things begin proper.">

---

---

"Fuck's sake, Jekyll, why are we tottering around this worthless foreign city like a homeless lacky?"

Assassin calmly walked the tourist centric parts of Sako City, humming gently to himself as he walked idly about, at least idly at first glances. He was getting a lay of this, despite his lesser half's complaints, lovely city of Sako. Knowing the layout, how things moved, how the city felt at its most basic level would show him how to maneuver safely out of sight, out of mind, even more so than he already did. It also, amusingly, distracted Hyde quite easily, too focused on complaining about being in some 'shitty foreign city', as he refused to repeat the more crass words of his lesser half. Intelligence gathering and sight seeing were easily mixed into one, and he was practically ignored even by the regular denizens of the city, flittering about on their daily lives, and even those of more import, of more consequence.

Of more consequence... Assassin found that being summoned to a contest of War, of conflict and violence, for the sake of the Holy Grail itself quite peculiar. Jekyll knew the Arthurian legends and mythos that, eventually, surrounded the Grail itself. Then, the Holy Grail, as more Christian influence bled into the Arthurian belief. Or, so his well read outlook had been prior to his eventual demise at the hands of increasingly involuntary transformations. Or so his memory was, at any rate, he had passed when he had no more control. What happened afterword, apparently, left him a candidate of being summoned as Heroic Spirit, though the idea of an Assassin being Heroic was amusingly odd indeed. He had an innate understanding of his capabilities, of...Hyde's capabilities. As much as he was loathe to admit it, and as much as Hyde was to gloat, they needed his lesser half. But Hyde alone could not accomplish this, as Jekyll was quick to remind. He was too impulsive, too eager to shed blood and engage in the base vulgarities that he had been created to satisfy to begin with, things that a gentleman like Jekyll could never submit to.

"Be silent Hyde, if you would for once. You will have your cruel pleasures before long, I fear, on foes more than your equal, and quite certainly your better. We are Servant first, we answer to our Master before anything else."

The Master that summoned them, a curious but well mannered woman of Far Eastern descent. On the surface of it, quite well mannered and reserved, qualities any woman could strive for. But Jekyll thought he recognized something behind the urbane, something that struck too close to home, but he spoke not on the matter. If it came up, he would council her to the best of his humble abilities. Especially given Hyde was going to be of no help what so ever in the regard. Fortunately, all the trappings of utterly calm, ordinary city life had left the lesser half so bored to tears that he couldn't be bothered to act up for now. A small relief, though the twinge of disdain at the thought reminded them both that, even in their thoughts, the out of power half still listened, and was around. The Master herself reached out, through an intrinsic link shared between the two during the duration of this Grail War, and answered in a tone both pleasant and kind, the natural way of Jekyll and a clear indication he retained a steady hand of control for the moment.

<"As you wish Master, you will be first to know if anything of note arises. A shame to depart such a lovely district so soon, but alas.">

Assassin would gently alter his path, diverting off the main path through Sako he had been wandering on, aiming towards the route to the Church. He would play the role of a sight seeing tourist, his innate properties as an Assassin and as Jekyll making that ever easier, keeping a careful, discreet eye on the path of the Church, seeming to meander back and forth, moving towards the Church in a measured manner. Hyde's displeasure was a near constant presence in the back of Jekyll's mind currently, but the presence of so much soothing, calming energy that such a place would bring, well, was a tonic against the madness, temporary as it was. Ensuring the route was safe for his Master, he would await her arrival and report anything unusual that might appear along the way at such a time.

---

@Octo

---

She looks at me without a hint of shame or any recognition that she's trespassing in someone else's space. No, worse than that, she turns completely, starting to walk towards me. I shrink back a bit around the corner, before she starts to speak—

"...Worry not, my lady, for the legendary knight-hero-king Ludwig II has arrived!"

My eyes narrow, and I can feel my face growing hot at the suggestion, my feet carrying me forward without any real thought behind it.

"I am not a woman!" I half-yell in protest, left hand raised ready to fight her off, right still holding the towel. I'd really rather not hit a woman, but I'm not just going to let myself get walked all over, especially not in the space I'd rented out to stay in while I was in Sako. She's got me incensed enough I'm not even bothering to hide the marks on the back of my hand.

"I'm not asking. Get out before this has to get ugly!"

---

The next few minutes passed in unremarkable fashion for Archer, and so he continued to watch the comings and goings of the people below as he nursed his coffee. Eventually, however, he felt a buzz of static that drew him to attention, and he took his cigarette from his mouth once more as the sensation came into clear focus: and as a familiar voice reached out to him from a distant source.

<"Archer, I will be departing for the Church to speak with the Overseer, and get a measure of how the other Masters might play the game. Do let me know if anything interesting comes up before things begin proper.">

Seemed as if Kilian was done with his preparations, and ready to handle the remaining formalities that stood between them and getting to work. It also seemed as if he wasn't was concerned whether or not he accompanied him to the Church, and while that normally would have suited him, considering how disagreeable he found the place's atmosphere, he was aware that more than a few of the Masters were likely to be present in that area.

<Very well, I'll finish my business here and cover your path forward.> Best not to risk Kilian's safety at this critical juncture. The man seemed at least decently capable of taking care of himself, but if he'd been on the mark in reporting the likely parties involved, Archer had no doubt there was some human-approximating thing that would be on the prowl for an easy mark. He should have known the Einzberns would be involved in this mess; how quaint, that that particular dynasty would rear their heads in this day and age.

<"Very well, grown bored of the modern day already have we?"> More practically, a Servant letting a Master strut around completely unobserved while at a critical juncture such as at the Church to formally meet with the Overseer was unwise, but an offhand remark never hurt.

<Perish the thought!> Archer may have been less than impressed with Sako, but this was still an age of opportunities far beyond anything the rats back in the old country could have even hoped to dream of. <But I think it would be prudent to put business before pleasure, at least for now.> Archer returned his cigarette to his mouth as he lightly jabbed back at Kilian, returning his focus to the street as he continued. <It seems as if the others are doing likewise, seeing as none of them have made their presence kno->

Archer froze. A short distance away, perhaps two or three hundred meters from his current position, something- no, someone had arrived along the length of the main street to snatch his attention away from his Master. Among the locals and the tourists, there was a man dressed in a two-piece suit who set his mind racing as soon as he stepped into focus. To an amateur eye, he may have blended innocuously into the crowd around him, just another businessman on his way home from work or stumbling off to an izakaya to wash the day down with a tepid glass of beer. But Archer knew from the moment his golden eyes picked him out that he didn’t belong early as much as those lazy guesses would suggest. The man may not have seemed too out of place if not for the subtle details of his face and build, the Servant’s clairvoyance easily able to distinguish the tanned and rugged features from the more delicate ones belonging to the similarly-dressed men around him. Even more basic than that, however, was the presence that was subtly felt in the air around him, people on either side subconsciously moving out of his path even as he lazily stalked along.

There was no doubt that the man was, like him, one of the seven spirits who had been dragged from across space and time to serve in the Grail War. The only question was, which one?

<Kilian.> Archer intoned down the link between the two of them, taking his cigarette out of his mouth to better concentrate on the man’s approach. <I believe I’ve found another Servant.>

The sudden, abrupt cut off for the discussion at hand could have been a point of concern on Kilian's part, however it was barely a moment and informed him of something very interesting. Another Servant, already spotted? That could be either a very good, or very bad thing depending on which servant it was. The opportunity to learn about the opposition overrode any need for self defense or the like. Besides that, this early in the game it was unlikely either Master or Servant would be so quick to lash out before the War began properly. There were technically understandings and rules in place, though they would be broken, it mattered not as for now they stood.

<"Excellent. See what you can learn, act as you see fit. Ideally no violence but I will not restrict your means should the need arise. I won't distract you further, you know how to reach me when you are on your way.">

<Of course. I'll see what I can find before I move on.> It was a change in the flow of the evening, but not an entirely unwelcome one. Though he didn't yet know which of the remaining six classes this new arrival belonged to, the man didn't seem to demand the presence of a Saber or a Lancer; not that he was exactly planning to engage him in these confines, but it did make him confident in his chances of taking him on, should the need arise. Provided he kept a suitable distance, events were very much in his favour.

So as Kilian withdrew from the conversation to focus on his own affairs, he continued to watch the mystery Servant's advance along the crowded street. It seemed as if he had no clue he was being watched, or any particular destination in mind- Archer chuckled, wondering if the other five were as lackadaisical as this one was turning out to be- and he wandered all the way along to the part of the street below Archer before he came to a stop.

Archer quirked a brow, taking a drag on his cigarette as he pondered. He couldn't identify any shift in the man's posture that indicated he'd sensed a change in the air, and though his keener senses and likely resistance to magecraft stood to penetrate it, the black aura around him would serve to deflect his attention unless he did something to give his position away. Something else had likely caught his attention, and Archer let his vision creep past the man to ascertain whether or not anything else had emerged that he needed to be worried about.

Despite Archer's clairvoyance, it was possible for something to creep into his field of vision while he was focused on another variable. The boons his reincarnation had supplied him with only helped so much there; but as he scanned past the other Servant, he didn't see anything or anyone who seemed significant enough to draw his attention. Perhaps the man was simply lost in lackadaisical thought? He smirked, turning his attention back to him-

And he was gone. Almost on instinct, Archer sprung up from his chair, looking intently over the balcony. Nothing. His golden eyes glinted as he forced his eyes to a deeper, sharper level of focus, piercing the realm of the physical to peer into the current of spirits around them: but again, nothing. The man had left his field of vision entirely. Archer sat back down, taking a heavier drag to calm himself. Fine. It was fine. He was aware of the man, and as soon as he reappeared he could resume tracking him. He just had to stay alert-

"The house blend, if you don't mind." And not for the first time in the last few minutes, Archer froze as he was alerted to a change in the flow of the evening. Turning, he saw him standing inside the room just past the doors he was sitting outside of. He hadn't moved to an advantageous position or retreated, but had entered the café, seemingly entirely on some damned whim. And more damnable yet, it seemed he'd finally come close enough to perceive that he was being watched, as as he himself turned, Archer felt his gaze land upon him.

He watched as the man made his way over, his gaze clear and level but his mind racing. If he acted quickly, he still had an advantage; he could likely produce, prime and fire his Noble Phantasm before this dullard could blink. If that proved insufficient, he could clear the balcony and be away over the rooftops in a similar span of time, and he could brush the incident off as an unfortunate consequence of a Servant neglecting the importance of prudence.

"No, no, don't get up on my account. But as the man drew up to his table with a chair he'd grabbed and dragged over unceremoniously, bringing the waitress from before scrambling over towards them in a hurry, it seemed he had something else on his mind entirely. Archer watched as he sat himself down just across from him, flashing him a smile that practically dared his fellow Servant to punch him in his face.

"No need for hostilities just yet, is there? We're just having a drink, is all," he continued, the waitress setting his coffee down and looking back and forth between him and Archer with an increasingly worried look.

A heavy silence settled upon the café, a tension seeping out from the table that permeated Archer's ward and began to disturb those around them. For a long, dreadful moment, it seemed as if the first altercation of the Sako Grail War was about to take place, right there and then in the humble little café-

"No need to look so worried, dear." And then Archer spoke, the tension lifting and the onlookers returning to their business without a second thought as the ward held steady through the power he fed it anew. He picked up and handed his own cup out to the waitress, seemingly taking his attention away from the man across from him as he did. "I'll take one more of the same. And a refill for the gentleman, whenever he's ready."

The waitress took one last pale-faced look at Archer, and then to the man, and back again. Another long moment passed, and then she disappeared, seemingly anxious about what would happen if she left the two men alone, but perhaps even more concerned about what would happen if she stuck around.

"Certainly rather bold of you, approaching me like this." But Archer simply chuckled, reclining in his seat as he turned back around to fix his guest with a smirk of his own. Very well. Perhaps he wasn't quite the dullard he had him pegged for, or maybe he was simply a reckless fool. Either way, if this was the game the other Servant wanted to play, he stood more to gain by playing along than not. “But I don't see why not. The day is young, I can afford to tarry a little.”

War was not a clean matter that allowed itself to be limited itself to the battlefield, but a dirty, sprawling affair that permeated every facet of life, whether one wanted it to or not. Archer had never been the model of a soldier, but he was more than aware of that fact. And now it was time to dance with it, as he'd done so many times before.

"It feels foolish, asking you why you're here. I think we both know the answer to that." He began, taking his now-spent cigarette from his mouth and flicking it over the edge of the balcony, before pulling a fresh one out of the carton and lighting it with what seemed to be little more than a glare of focus on his part. With that done, he returned it to his mouth, before wordlessly offering one to his guest: "But all the same, I am curious. Has your Master given you leave to be here?"

Ludie's expression fell, and she placed a hand over her mouth in genuine embarrassment.

"My apologies! I did not mean to offend, my la-, my la-, my l- hm."

Ludwig bit her lower lip and crossed her arms, an expression of excessive mental strain coming upon her face, before she snapped her fingers and said brightly:

"My la- Master. Force of habit."

But something was off. Her Master was getting awfully defensive, and looked confused, as if he hadn't been expecting any of this. The careening coal train that was Ludie's brain screeched and drifted onto a track parallel to the truth of the matter, and her expression brightened.

"Ah, a cautious Master! You wish to ascertain my knowledge... hmph~"

Ludie smiled smugly.

"Merely glance at your hand, and witness the bond we share in the form of your command seals. Ah, to be bonded by fate and mana to a beautiful young lady! ...Is not what happened, but damsel or no, you will be in distress without my assistance!"

Ludie grinned brightly, knowing in her heart that her clever Master would see in her wisdom... proof of their bond!

---

Lucia's first impression of Beatrice was 'wow, that is a very tall woman'. Her second was that this tall woman seemed very polite. Lucia's bright smile brightened even more, threatening to blind all those present. Could it be that this was a reasonable Magus? Most of the Church had told her that they were all pretty much scum, but she knew better. God made Humans, and Magi were Humans too.

Of course, she wasn't so naïve as to take everything at face value, but she liked to lean as positively as she could. Lucia beckoned Beatrice gently, like a shepherd to a timid lamb, and began leading her to the church.

"And a good evening to you, too," she replied with her usual radiance, "no, you're not interrupting at all. I was just picking some herbs from the garden... I'm about to put some focaccia in the oven, if you'd like to stay for dinner. I made extra dough, because... well, you're here, aren't you?"

Lucia turned over her shoulder, and threw Beatrice a playful wink.

"I was expecting we might be seeing a little company in the next few days. I'm sure the Overseer will be happy you've paid her a visit! She could use a bit more excitement, I think. As if I'm not enough, right? Ehee~"

She punctuated her comment with a downright angelic chortle, though for her saintly demeanor, a perceptive person might note multiple piercings on her ears. An exceptionally perceptive person might note one on her tongue. They were all, at this moment, unoccupied.

One thing was for sure.

Back then, Saber had never tasted anything this awesome. Salty and sweet at the same time. Crunchy too. And the outside was chocolate, a totally new food to her that she could barely even describe.

The fact she could just snag it off a shelf was pretty amazing, too.

After they'd arrived and registered at the Church, her Master had no issue with letting her wander off and scope things out. She'd have wanted to anyway, and while her Master needed protection regardless of how strong she was at the moment Saber felt like her best bet was to see what town was like.

She'd be fighting here, after all.

There were lots of people in much of Sako City, something Saber knew affected the way she'd be fighting. She wasn't going to go risking the lives of uninvolved civilians.

What kind of rotten bastard would do that?

Anyone who did deserved to be gutted, plain and simple.

She'd noticed some guy from the west, like her Master and her, earlier. She wasn't certain if it meant anything or if he was just some tourist, but it had caught her eye when she was looking for snacks in a nearby store.

Only for a moment, though.

Saber had seen some motorcycles too. Now those were awesome. Like a horse made of metal that roared. She couldn't help but wonder if she'd be able to convince her Master to let her buy one. She was rich, wasn't she? She could absolutely afford it.

But it wasn't as if she was out here just to put together a wish list or see the sights.

Her real purpose was twofold: Get a feel for her surroundings, and maybe, just maybe, track down an enemy Servant.

She wanted to. She was itching to run right into an opponent and take them on. Saber was nothing if not confident, she didn't need her Master present to make her feel like she'd pull out a win no matter who she ran into.

Saber would make them regret showing up to the war, and she'd enjoy it.

---

@Octo

---

For a moment, it looks like her entire delusion is about to come crashing down like a car flying off the road trying to turn to fast at a mountain pass...but it doesn't happen. She pouts for a moment trying to get back on track, before saying something about...

"...My hand?"

She must have seen the marks on my right hand. Now she's trying to use them to justify her being here, before going on about...some fate and mana nonsense and continuing to be disappointed that I'm not a woman, I guess. At least she doesn't seem to be threatening. I look over to the entrance, expecting to see some sign that she'd dragged in the mud from outside, especially without having taken her shoes off where she was supposed to, only to see that it's untouched. Nothing's been moved, not even the shoes that I left in the way because I was in a hurry to get in the shower, there's no mud or anything from outside, and glancing back at her, I see:

She's spotless. No dirt or mud anywhere on her, not even a single wet spot from the intermittent drizzles that have been coming down since I got here.

"O-kay, sure, let's say I am your master for now..."

I'm not sure just what is wrong with her, but so long as she's not being a threat, I think I read somewhere once that the best course of action dealing with somebody so delusional was to just play along and keep them from getting themselves or anyone else hurt. Trying to argue back could just cause problems. I look at the clock, and sigh.

Dinner's coming in just a couple minutes. Looks like I can't be free of her until after I eat. I drop my raised fist, pointing over at the door to the bedroom. "You'll find a spare nemaki in there. Go change into it, and put your shoes in the shoebox by the entrance. Put mine in too while you're there. The owner of this place will be coming by soon with a meal for me—we're going to have to apologize and tell him you're my cousin or something that I forgot to mention would be joining me when I first booked this space. I'm going back to the shower to dry off my hair and get dressed. Don't mess with anything."

I doubt she'll listen to that last command, but I can hope. I turn around, walking back to the shower.

"Holy Grail War, Ludwig the second...She must have gone digging through my things before finding that handkerchief. Claiming she's some long-gone king, too. Did she go looking through my things, find my name, and decide that we should go searching for some mystic cup?"

Weird. But, if she's convinced she's King Ludwig, that's probably why she was hoping I'd be a woman despite being named Arthur. That's the only explanation I can find that explains this ridiculous circumstance.

---

Beatrice watched the other young woman present for a moment or so, attempting to make sense of her presence- she doubted a Servant would walk about so blatantly in the open, but the presence of a third dispatchee from the Church was certainly curious- but after a moment, she turned her attention back to the young woman in front of her as she spoke up again.

She kept up her polite smile as the girl spoke to her, her eyes appraising her all the while. If she was the Church's Master, it seemed as if they'd picked well. The Overseer had a way about them that was inflammatory even at a glance, as if she was daring you to suspect her. This young woman's stance, meanwhile, betrayed no uncertainty, let alone any traces of violence, and she spoke calmly and confidently despite her apparent youth. If she was assessing the situation correctly, the arrangement was more than a little clumsy, but the girl handled her part of it well; she'd have to be careful around this one, she thought to herself.

"Ah, that's very kind of you, but I shan't be here long," she replied to the girl's offer of foccacia. She was sure there were more than a fair share of fools who'd have been taken in right away by the girl's charming demeanour; as for her, however, she was all too aware that an inviting smile often hid a dagger, gentle words coaxing one to rest before it struck clean into relaxed flesh. "I'm just paying her a quick visit about some shared business, and then I'll be on my way."

The girl began to walk towards the church, and Beatrice afforded herself one last glance in the direction of the other individual she'd spied along the perimeter of the building's grounds. Nothing: seemed as if she'd slipped away while the other girl had her attention. How convenient.

Well, no matter, she supposed she should worry about one thing at a time. Lancer was at hand if anyone came from behind, and she herself could handily deal with anyone bold enough to come at her head-on. So she followed the girl to the doors, continuing to smile and play along as she threw out out a mixture of claims that felt purpose-built to bait her into tipping her hand. It seemed she was aware that she was one of the seven Masters; not a particularly difficult thing to guess, she had to admit. There was only so much that a tall, red-haired woman with a bandaged-up slab of metal stowed on her back could do to blend in, even to an untrained eye.

"Have many been by, recently?" She could use that much to her advantage, though. Play into the girl's hands a little, play lip service to the bait she was offering; who knew what kind of sounds she'd make if she bit down.

Possibly some very interesting sounds, if those piercings were any indication. Curious and curiouser, this one.

"I think it was just myself and the Overseer, last I dropped by. Glad to see she's got some company after all, but- hmm." She idly scratched the back of her head as she spoke, easing her body language off as she contemplated her next words: "Have you been here long, or did I just miss you last time?"

Oh, good. This Servant opposite him knew something of playing the game, at least. A little jumpy, though. Poor form. Any hint of weakness like that would have gotten him eaten alive in Rider’s youth. Nonetheless, he leaned back, mirroring the Servant he was sitting with before taking a sip of coffee. Delicious.

”Well, they haven’t commanded me not to be here.” Rider gave a lackadaisical wave, laughing the question off. ”A bit of a gray area, really. But our type’s good at navigating those, aren’t we? Anyone inflexible isn’t going to last long, short of being ludicrously strong.”

Rider started drumming his fingers along the table. One beat. Two. The drumming continued. His smarmy grin didn’t leave his face. One would think he was almost deliberately trying to be annoying.

”Considering you haven’t started swinging, shooting, or casting yet, I’m going to go out on a limb and say you aren’t quite inflexible. A good sign, really.” He chortled, continuing to enjoy his drink. ”Tell me, what do you think of this brave new world we find ourselves in? I, for one, think it a marvel. A vast improvement from the era I grew up in.”

“Come, now. It’s as you said, we’re just having a drink.” Archer’s own smug expression refused to budge, and he simply shrugged as his guest seemingly declined his offer of a cigarette, slipping the carton back into his pocket. “We may have been called here to fight for our Masters, but that doesn’t behoove us to conduct ourselves like barbarians on their account.”

Well, wasn’t this a curious fellow, Archer thought to himself, as his golden eyes appraised the man across from him. He was certainly crass, slithering up to him and daring him to retaliate; but while it was tempting to write him off as a fool, that clearly wasn’t the whole picture. He’d gone from giving shameless non-answer into probing him with questions of his own, attempting to place the burden of the conversation on him.

The incessant, rhythmless drumming on the table was just the capper. If the man intended violence, he’d long since relinquished the advantage there. No, he was trying to wear down his patience, see what he could find out.

“I have my misgivings, I will admit, but I’d be little but a fool if I let them guide my thoughts. I see complacency, but also possibilities beyond anything my contemporaries could have begun to envision.” Well, it wasn’t like he stood to lose anything by humouring his guest a little; if he thought he could get under Archer’s skin that easily, perhaps it wouldn’t be too difficult to bait him along in turn. “Every age is mired in the folly of man, but perhaps this one shall let us be rid of the vultures picking at the corpse of bygone glories.”

A relatively neutral non-answer. Well, it was only fair, considering Rider had just given one himself. Still, there were little bits and pieces here to peck out. Just like those vultures his counterpart just mentioned. Heh. Ah, how’d he’d missed this. Matching wits was far more enjoyable when the opposition was an equal as opposed to a dullard.

”One could say that those vultures are the ones with the greatest eye for the possibilities you’ve mentioned. I certainly won’t fault someone for taking opportunities where they arise. Regardless, now that we know where the other stands, I don’t suppose you’d be willing to offer your role?”

A brief chortle. His coffee cup was already running half-empty.

”I’ll even start. I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said Assassin?”

“I’d only consider you slightly less credible than if you claimed you were Caster,” Archer replied, rolling his cigarette from one side of his mouth to another as he quirked an eyebrow at the turn in the conversation. “For whatever that’s worth.”

The question of the man’s identity had, of course, been on his mind. Appearances were deceiving, but presence wasn’t, and his guest’s dubious aura didn’t exactly command fear and awe as a Saber or Lancer should. His own identity precluded the remaining option out of the Knights, so that left the four Cavalry classes to eliminate. In truth, he couldn’t rule Caster out just yet; he may have failed to recognize the meaning of his words, just who these vultures were, but who knew how magi from this neck of the woods conducted themselves? At any rate, it was certainly more of a possibility than either Berserker or Assassin, as he seemed to claim. That yet left one option, but…

“Besides, let’s not say anything we’re likely to regret.” As tempting as it was to call him on his bluff, he couldn’t see it being worth the particular risk. There was surely more that he could glean from the man before he moved on, but that particular item of information was a dangerous one to air out in these unproven grounds. “The war is yet young, and we don’t know what cards the others hold. I admire your candor, but let’s not sacrifice sense at the altar of hospitality. I may not be inflexible, as you say, but lord only knows what brutes may be lying in wait.”

”I respect your abundance of caution, but we both know secrecy about Class will go out the window the moment the knives come out.” Rider’s smarmy grin widened ever so slightly. ”After all, our titles already exist to protect our names.”

And speaking of, it wasn’t as if Rider’s mind wasn’t working in the exact same direction, either. The man in front of him certainly didn’t seem to be Saber, Lancer, or Berserker, just from general appearance, presence, and attitude alone. Rider was already Rider. So that largely left Archer, Caster, or Assassin. Part of the reason he’d even mentioned Assassin in the first place was to gauge the other Servant’s response. He’d brushed it off with barely any reaction, so that Class was likely out. Now, was the mention of Caster a smokescreen? It really came down to that or Archer at this point, though he supposed that a standard Caster would have little reason to leave their little workshop once it was set up. Archer was the most likely candidate, but only if he took what he saw currently at face value.

”But, I’ll acknowledge your wishes for now. A man was simply trying to make idle small talk, after all. Some of my greatest allies started as my enemies, really. I’m told I have a talent for such things.” Just a little breadcrumb. As amusing as it would be to reveal his true name, it was too much of a strategic risk, even with his Noble Phantasm in play. Though if Rider felt it invoked at any time tonight, then the other Servant was far sharper than he’d give him credit for.

“Of course, but much can happen in the course of one night.” Archer couldn’t help but stifle a laugh of his own. His guest seemed almost disappointed that he’d declined the exchange of identities; again, there seemed to be but a fine line separating recklessness from brilliance. As insignificant as it would be once the fighting began, at this stage in the war the simple knowledge of which class each Servant belonged to was an unspeakable advantage. A shrewd Master and Servant could wipe another team off the board before matters even truly began if they had reliable information on how an unprepared unit was likely to respond to an attack.

The other Servant clearly had something to gain by trying to share his identity, but whether that was based on a belief that Archer would be honour-bound to oblige him in turn or something yet more sinister remained to be seen.

“No doubt this won’t be the last time we meet. Perhaps then, we can talk more openly about matters.” Perhaps he was trying to goad him, but the sense of deliberation behind his guest’s words made Archer feel there was some credence to them. The man was an odd mix of foolishness and sharpness, ingratiating and yet infuriating; certainly the kind of person who thrived in uncertain times. If nothing else, he was sure he could confuse any other Servant enough to make it out of an encounter with his head still attached.

“But it’d be a waste of an occasion to leave things there, I agree.” And if that was the case, Archer had some questions of his own. “And if you’re game for a little small talk, I must admit I’m curious. You’ve spoken of your admiration for this modern world, all the challenges overcome along the way. But that’s only a fraction of the picture, isn’t it?”

He paused, exhaling a plume of smoke as he took his cigarette from his mouth; and, letting it hang by the side of his chair for the moment, he looked up from the table to catch the attention of the waitress. Catching her eye and gesturing for her to bring the most recent order over for the two of them, he turned his attention back to his guest.

“What do you make of this alleged Grail War?” He asked the other Servant, a smile quite unlike the one from before plastered across his face.

”What, this curious little replacement for something supposed to be long gone?” Rider inclined his head briefly. He’d had quite a bit of time to think about the matter once he’d been summoned and the knowledge the Grail granted him settled in his head. His eyes glinted with all the malicious glee of someone who enjoyed speaking uncomfortable truths. ”Isn’t it obvious? We’re all being used. Perhaps the original system may have been a legitimate matter caused by magi too foolish to simply be rational and cooperate, but to so desperately recreate this entire contest after the last time it failed? No, someone is pulling strings behind the scenes.”

After all, it wasn’t as if Rider actually wanted to play along with this phenomenal waste of his newfound existence. The more Servants and even Masters he could convince of the utter foolishness going on, the sooner he could cut his strings and live his second life as he wished to.

Another silence hung in the air between the two men for a moment, as Rider finished speaking, and as Archer digested his words. The waitress came over with the two coffees Archer had ordered, slamming them down on the table in a hurry before scuttling away as fast as she could to leave the two dubious-seeming men to their business

“Well put.” Archer finally nodded after a few moments, his own eyes glinting as his mind raced behind them. Yes indeed, this encounter would have proved informative even if the other Servant had flounced at his refusal to play along with his apparent willingness to disclose his identity; but if he was understanding his guest correctly, this is where it could provide personally fruitful.

“Now, I won’t insult your intelligence by claiming I have no interest in the Grail. We could play this game through to the first light of morning, and nothing either of us could say would change the fact that none of us would be here if there wasn’t something we were willing to run roughshod over each-other to grasp,” he said, the luridness of his words concealing the deliberation beneath.

“But all the same, it’s as you say. This war is but an amateur production of a third rate farce. I spoke of the folly of man, and it certainly runs deep; but it may as well be a shallow pond compared to the depths of those picking at the corpses of the Gods.” He had to be careful what he relented to the other Servant. Showing too much of his hand could be disastrous, if he were so inclined as to engage either of their Masters in this same fashion. “I have no qualms with my Master, nor, as far as I can gather, any quarrel with yours. The bindings of duty are difficult to escape, especially when one can see no alternative. But if one could rely on magi to be rational, I scarcely think we’d be here to begin with. I wouldn’t doubt at least one of our number is likely to prove troublesome.”

What a curious choice of wording. Was this Servant implying he’d cut his bonds and run if given half the chance? Both a blessing and a curse, really. Rider didn’t need this man’s utter loyalty like he would have in life, given that this was a temporary alliance at best. But that cut both ways. Fleeting faith made for an uncertain ally.

Still, at least he had some idea of where they stood now. That was, so long as this man wasn’t playing him for a fool. Rider practically guzzled his refill of coffee down before rising to his feet, placing a thousand yen note on the table.

”I suppose that’s all I need to know for the moment, then. I thank you for the interesting conversation, friend. Best hope we’re not forced to cross blades during the conflict proper, no?”

“I shouldn’t think you have much to fear, there.” Archer replied, lazily raising a hand to bid the other Servant farewell. “Without betraying my Master’s confidence, or my own words, we’re in no hurry to spill blood for a counterfeit cup. We’ll have the chance to talk again, I’m sure.”

Well, maybe it had been too much to hope he’d be able to broach that topic at length on the first night, but it wasn’t exactly a disappointing outcome for that. Regardless of how likely the amity was to endure, or how it would inevitably end, he’d identified someone who’d make a ready ally; whether or not the man had absorbed the meaning of his words, he supposed it was only a matter of time until he saw for himself just what bloody-minded horrors were likely awaiting them.

“If I may, however, allow me to advise you of one thing before you depart.” He took his cigarette from his mouth and, crushing it in his gloved hand, likewise downed his own coffee. Now the other Servant was leaving, he didn’t have much in the way of a reason to hang around, either. It had been a fruitful enough diversion, but the time had come to ensure Kilian’s advance. Which, of course, led into: “I wasn’t being facetious when I spoke before. I can’t say I’m aware of any others of our kind yet, but I have… previous knowledge, shall we say, of at least one party involved in this war, who I can only imagine would be more than willing to paint these streets with blood to see some demented dream realized.”

Perhaps he was saying too much. There was also the very real possibility that this man was the Servant of that very party. All the same, however, Archer felt disclosing this information would serve him in the long run.

“Be wary of a woman with white hair and red eyes. Humanity only runs skin deep, and whatever was mean enough to heed her call surely won’t be as reasonable as you or I.” If this Servant was a prospective ally, it wouldn’t do to have him fall into the clutches of the Einzberns; and if he was the one who heeded their call, perhaps the message would unsettle them enough to draw them out into the open.

How satisfying it would be, to personally crush the hopes of those miserable, bloodthirsty dolls for good.

Ludwig smiled heroically as her Master fumbled his words, obviously awestruck by her beauty and/or handsomeness. It was a gift and a curse to be so gorgeous; to be so grossly incandescent as to shine brighter than any star. Though, indeed, a star is brightest just before it fades. Such was her fate in the past, but she had a good feeling about this Master. She knew in her heart that this damse- that this guy could bring her further than she had ever gone.

To the seat of the grail. To the object of her desire.

"Of course, Master," Ludwig agreed to the light chores enthusiastically, somewhat eager to try out the exotic fashions of this land, "I shall set the stage for your grand plans. I can't wait to hear what heroic acts of derring-do you have in mind!"

After Arthur retreated, Ludwig busied herself putting up the shoes. Apparently taking one's shoes off while indoors was custom in this country, and Ludwig did not wish to be rude. She wondered, briefly, why she should pretend to be her Master's cousin. Her plan, after all, was to loudly announce herself and wait for challengers. However, she would certainly have faith in her Master's plot.

For a villain, such duplicity would be deceit. For a hero such as she and her Master, however, it was cleverness.

Next, she was to put on the nemaki. It seemed an exciting new fashion, but upon witnessing it, she found the garb rather... drab. It wasn't at all exciting. She was hoping for something loud and floral. Lilies, maybe. With bright colors and intricate patterning.

Silk.

This was not that.

Ludwig cringed as she put the awful, borrowed thing on over her princely garb. She did not tie it, rather hoping that when her Master saw how drab it looked, he would have her discard it and then go shopping for something nicer. A kimono. That's what it was called! The beautiful ones. Ornate, hand-tailored to her breathtaking form.

Ludwig sat on the bed with her arms out to make certain her Master could see at a glance how ill-suited she was to something so plain-looking.

---

"Shan't? That's so cute," Lucia teased lightly, finding some adorable novelty in the woman's word choice, "well, you say that now, but I assure you that when you smell that bread baking, you shan't want to leave without trying a bite."

Lucia was, perhaps, still a little naïve in regards to the larger world. She was not, however, stupid. She knew what this woman was asking, no matter how innocuously she phrased it. But Lucia had only one thing to hide, and for everything else, she was capable of being entirely honest. Openness in every measure she could afford was her best chance at hiding that one lie, and so, she would be the one thing that might throw a magus off their game:

A genuine, kindhearted person.

"Well, I don't know when you visited last, but the first thing I did when I arrived was start planting a small garden," she replied honestly, "if you saw that, then I was probably here. We might have missed each other if I was out taking care of errands."

Lucia reached out to open the church doors.

"Oh, and you're definitely the first Master I've met thus far. Too bad you shan't be here long, because the inside of the church is probably the best place you'll find to scope out your competition, if any are due to arrive soon," Lucia said, sticking her tongue out playfully as she held open the doors. She gently ushered the woman inside, hoping that Nero would play along.

Yes, if Nero was quiet, and demure, and didn't draw too much attention to herself... it was possible that nobody would find out about her until much later.

"Quiet." "Demure." "Didn't draw too much attention to herself." All laudable goals, maybe even theoretically obtainable if Nero had been asked about them beforehand. But she hadn't been, which meant that almost as soon as the door was thrown open, a certain short blonde was flouncing up to them, giving a boisterous welcome.

"... oh, and Leah says 'Why would I know what can go on focaccia? I don't know, cheese?'," the other blonde added, Italian accent swapping to an imitation of an English one as she relayed what could only be the Overseer's apparent lack of strong interest in whatever her Master was planning to cook.

After a moment's pause, she carried on, "Can I get you anything to drink?"

Inside the church, and specifically within the bounded fields established, she didn't give off the impression of a Servant. Although, she was still loud, and very... inappropriately dressed. A scandalously short dress didn't seem quite at home inside a church.

Then again, neither did the war's overseer drinking from a can of cheap beer over by the altar, only now looking up to see who had come in.

---

“Is my dialect that amusing?” Beatrice queried, raising an eyebrow and tilting her head: a display more playful than biting. She’d been brought up to speak this way, but she’d never felt comfortable with it. While it was a mode she could slip in and out of as the situation demanded, her personal vernacular had always been a lot more blunt. Who was to say, perhaps she'd be giving the girl a lesson in her preferred diction before too long. For now, though, she put on the act of mock offense as she processed the rest of the girl's words. 

Colour Beatrice surprised: as soon as the conversation moved towards anything that could give the girl's own position away, she wasn’t so willing to play games! She stifled a haughty laugh, but at the same time, she supposed she couldn’t fault her for her caution. It wasn't as if Beatrice herself had risked much that wasn’t already blatantly obvious, and she'd already noted the girl's impressive poise; it would be rather a turn about-face, not to mention the mark of incompetence, if she were to tip her hand too soon. 

Regardless, the conversation so far had given up a decent amount of information for her and Lancer to mull over; the Church was host to more than just the Overseer, with two girls that seemed to have no public reason to be here other than to keep the fair Sister company, and at least one of them had the bearing of someone who could be troublesome down the line if she were so inclined. The other's credentials remained to be seen, but she'd have to be wary of a surprise appearance from a Servant, as well as this one herself, lest she be blindsided as her predecessors had.

“And come now, exactly what kind of a woman do you take me for?" But she laughed it off, letting it be water off a duck's back as the girl beckoned her towards the now-open doors of the church and 'suggested' she use the arrangement as an opportunity to scope out the competition. "I wouldn't be so crass as to expect the Church's Overseer to provide me with an unfair advantage. I'll leave tawdy arrangements like those to the Tohsakas." She allowed herself a smirk as the girl stuck her tongue out at her. Perhaps that whole affair had been lost to history, but she wouldn't let either party forget it in a hurry; and if the name-drop so happened to give the girl a bit of a start, all the better.

“No, no, I'm here in a strictly professional capacity. Perhaps she hasn’t mentioned, but I happen to be here on behalf of the Association." Anyway, this had all been a perfectly fun distraction, but she supposed it was time to get down to business. She followed the girl to the doors, stopping just inside of them and turning to address her a little more seriously than she had before. "I have some information that may be of interest to her, before proceedings begi-“

"... oh, and Leah says 'Why would I know what can go on focaccia? I don't know, cheese?'," And all pretense of seriousness was gone as the peace and quiet of the Church's evening was shattered by the loud and exuberant voice. Beatrice's head snapped around, and she was immediately greeted with the sight of the other girl she'd seen.

And what a sight she was. The two representatives of the Church she'd already met were modestly and conservatively dressed, as befitting women of the cloth, however alleged that status might be. 'Alleged' was perhaps too mild of a word for this one, however; if she were another Sister, her ideas of what constituted an appropriate style of dress for a holy woman were about as alternative as the Overseer's were about her manner. Her dress would have been revealing on her own, taller and slimmer figure; on the short, energetic and extremely bouncy young woman who approached them, it was practically a badge of pride, mesmerizing to behold.

Of course, chances were she wasn't exactly a regular member of the Church to begin with, Beatrice thought to herself, as her eyes scanned over the young woman. It wasn't fully certain, considering the eccentricities she'd already observed of the Church's residents, as well as the fact that she didn't seem to command the same presence that the grey, tall and decidedly terrible Lancer did: but considering what was already on her mind...

"I'm quite alright, thank you." Beatrice offered her a friendly smile as the girl offered her a drink, sidelining those thoughts for the moment. "I was just saying to your... friend? Colleague? Sister?" She looked to the other young woman,  the smile twisting up into something of a smirk, before it levelled back out as she turned her attention back to the newcomer.

"Well, whatever the case, I was just saying that I shan't be here long. I just have a quick update for the Overseer, and then I'll be on my way. Wouldn't want to interrupt your busy evening," she chuckled, raising a hand to bid the two farewell for now as she made her way down the main aisle of the church towards the woman waiting at the altar. 

<Be at the ready, Lancer.> She intoned to her Servant, directing his attention back to their link, sparing one last glance over her shoulder at the two young women behind her. He'd been quiet the past few minutes, and while she doubted he'd tuned her out just yet, it was best to have him be at the ready in case her suspicions were validated. <They may not be hostile for now, but we'll see how that goes.>

She could handle herself for at least a minute or so, if worst came to worst. More than enough time for them to christen everyone here with an understanding of just how poorly made any such decision was.

"Rather charming little welcome party you've put together here," she started to the woman at the altar, stopping at the set of pews closest to her and fixing her with a curious glance. The woman's behaviour would probably be galling to most of her peers, but there was more than a small part of her that found it amusing; and besides, Beatrice would be a damned hypocrite if she upbraided someone else for being unorthodox. She kept her guard up, electing to casually sit atop the arm of the pew rather than lower herself fully into it, but she nonetheless found herself speaking reasonably casually as she addressed the Overseer. "Had much to do, since we last met?"

---

@Octo

---

...

As I walk back to the bedroom, wrapping my hands back up to hide the marks along the one, I find myself struck by the very displeased face of the girl sat at the edge of my bed. I really can't imagine what problem she might have with the nemaki—it's nice cotton, well made, not some cheap polyester or anything like that—but evidently it's much less to her liking than the clothes she'd decided to keep wearing underneath it.

I sigh.

I'd hoped she might decide to leave, however she got in, but it seems she's intent to continue with this game until I can get her to a mental institution. I just have to figure out how to do that while attracting the least attention to myself; no doubt, one foreigner having such troubles with another might negatively impact my ability to ever come back if they take my name down and all.

"Look, if you hate it that much, I should have some spare stuff that will mostly fit you," I grumble, gesturing offhandedly at the closet. "We're not walking around with you dressed like you walked out of a Holy Roman Empire class reunion." Then I hear knocking at the front entrance. I sigh again. "Stay here. I'm going to grab the food and put off explaining this as long as possible."

Within another few minutes we're back in the main room seated at the low table, with a few dishes in front of us. The old man noticed the girl's fine shoes almost instantly, but I think he took me at my word when I said she was a relative I'd forgotten to list as another guest. Now we're splitting the food he brought between us, and as much as I'm thinking about what to do with her, I'm also thinking about getting something else to eat back in town. Either way, there are a few other ground rules that need addressed.

"Alright. So, before we get too deep in things, what's your real name? And I'd appreciate it if you just call me Arthur when we're around people. I don't want to have to try and explain away the whole master thing."

I don't really want to try and explain away any of it, but as long as she's with me that's probably what I'm going to be doing.

Lucia watched Beatrice with some interest. All of her teasing scarcely seemed to phase the woman, which wasn't as fun as it could have been, but she had some interesting reactions nonetheless. At the very least, the woman was capable of biting back. There was something beneath that prim and proper shell, and Lucia wanted to see it.

This was not some strategic mind-game to give Lucia an edge, however. It was genuine curiosity and interest in their new guest. Aside from Nero, Beatrice was the first magus Lucia had ever met. An Association magus, at that, if the woman was truthful. Lucia knew the basics of their organization, but the old men at the Vatican didn't exactly have glowing praise for the Mage's Association. She was eager to discover a few things on her own, but that would have to wait.

When Beatrice mentioned the Tohsakas, Lucia visibly tilted her head. She'd heard the name, of course, and knew that they were one of the three founding families of the Grail Wars, but she wasn't privy to any sort of arrangement. Did they work together in the past? That seemed odd, but given Lucia's own involvement, she didn't exactly doubt the Church's eagerness to guide things where able. She frowned slightly before Nero showed up.

And my, what an outfit she showed up in. Of course, Lucia was already used to Nero dressing up in all sorts of outrageous things. She probably would have told Nero to dress as a nun or something, but she already had the woman on a leash. If someone else were her Master, she'd probably be strutting proudly about the city. Lucia certainly didn't want to step on Nero's spirit more than was required.

No, even Lucia didn't entirely understand why she cared about Nero's feelings so much. Why it felt nice to hang around with her. Why it had been fun to explore Rome together. She was the Antichrist, after all. Maybe it was all a trick...

Is what someone decidedly less trusting than Lucia would think.

"We're colleagues," Lucia answered Beatrice as the woman headed off to speak with the overseer, "hope you two have fun~"

Lucia regarded Nero with an odd fondness, gently taking the woman's hand in hers.

"Oh, your Leah impression is really good! I'm impressed," Lucia complimented with a short giggle, "how are you feeling tonight? Any special requests as far as food? Anything you'd like to do?"

---

Ludwig regarded the food she was splitting with her Master intently, before stabbing at it with a single chopstick. Truly, it was an interesting utensil! Like fighting one's food with a fang-sharp rapier to claim victory. Arthur did not, to her dismay, offer to take her shopping for something nice. Maybe he needed a more straightforward shove! That was Ludwig's specialty, after all.

Ludwig gave Arthur the smile that captured the hearts of her people, and placed her hand on her chest as if about to deliver a grand speech.

"Arthur, is it? A suitably heroic name, as expected of my Mast- of... you! As I explained, I am Ludwig II of Bavaria. Though perhaps you mean to ask my class name... which would be Saber, of course! Only the most heroic class would be suitable for the most heroic Servant, wouldn't you agree? You may call me Saber or Ludwig or even Ludie, if you'd like! After all, we are already friends."

Ludwig gazed upon her Master brightly. Somehow, the young man didn't seem completely impressed, but Ludwig's positive spirit was unassailable.

"Would you, perhaps, like to get kimonos together? I understand that my current garb, while gorgeous and jaw-dropping, may not fit with the eastern setting. Presentation is an important part of any adventure, so we should wear clothing suitable for the tale! If money is a concern, I will surely make enough on the way to cover our expenses and then some."