The purpose of the Grail Wars was to summon a Servant, a powerful “familiar” that would act as a both the shield and sword of the “Master”. Of course, comparing a “Servant” to a “Familiar” would be a grave understatement of its prowess. Even the 5 true magics wouldn’t be able to form a “true contract” with a Servant. Therefore, the Grail producing a “Servant” was not a true summoning, but rather a “loose contract” with the Throne.
Even those beings that had transcended the knowledge of Magecraft into something more tuned to Magic would not be able to form a contract with a Servant. Thus, the Grail acts as a medium in order to allow these beings, Servants, to exist in the world. If anything, the Master of the war was more akin to an anchor than a true “master”. The magus existed only to support the Servant in such a way to keep them from dematerializing. And considering that a traditional magus would be no less than a pincushion to any Servant’s power, it would be wise to 1) keep one’s Servant in the world as a means to combat enemy Servants, and 2) keep infighting to a limit.
In the event that a Master is unable to control their Servant, the founders of the Grail System had also created the idea of a “command seal”. Whomever invented such a binding must be given their due credit. Perhaps to an extent the command seal was more wondrous than they system of the Grail itself. The ability to compel a Heroic Spirit 3 times was something incredible within itself, and a failsafe system like no other to ensure a degree of control to one’s own Servant.
Despite this fact this ritual had its origins within the circles of backwater magus families, it could not be understated that the actual concept of the ritual was not rushed. Each construct was well thought out. The families themselves could be considered “skilled” to some degree, but of course in the grand scheme of things, with few exceptions, they were but fledglings.
The Saber was the class of swordsmen. Those heroes who had donned a blade for their country, for comrades, for themselves. This happened to be one of the, if not the strongest class. However, that did not mean that the Saber was constantly the strongest servant, but rather a very likely contender for victor of the war.
Unless you are Takeuchi in which case this is the best class fuck all other classes gg Saber best Saber tbh fam. The Lancer was the class of spearmen. As one of the knight classes, the base class was stronger than other classes. Though compared to the Saber base class, the lancer held very little advantage. However, the forerunners of this class tend towards great agility, displaying exceptional prowess with their weapon and speed unrivaled by other Servants.
The Archer was the weakest of the Knight class, but still comparatively strong.Servants placed within this class excel in possessing powerful Noble Phantasms, are able to act as highly effective scouts due to the skill “independent action”. However, archers tend to be less useful in closer engagements compared to the other Knight Classes. However, their range and ability to kite opponents tended to make them formidable regardless of the occasion.
The Rider was the class of mounts. The companionship of beasts was a commonplace in stories of old. From horses to pegasi, the Rider was able to tame and act as a cavalryman with their mounts. Of course, Riders tended to have the advantage of “Summoning another being to fight”, despite the being being an animal. Some animals in legends were able to present issue to Servants, and but it tended to be a fight in the Heroes’ favor due to circumstance. A formidable class, nonetheless.
Assassins were the classes of intrigue. Those who had taken to the shadows during their life, using their stealth to claim their victims. Able to nearly disappear from the world at whole, the Assassins specialize in “picking off”, for lack-there-of a better term, those whom had become separated from their Servant. At the very least, Ravel hoped she didn't summon a Servant of this class. It seemed, at face, to be one of the hardest classes to win a war with, but one with "some possibilities".
Casters were the class of Mages. The strongest casters of spells throughout the history of man were placed in this class. Mages with abilities that might have been eventually surpassed by modern comprehension, but at the same time, beings so powerful modern magi might be incomparable to their prowess. Due to not requiring any strong statistics, they generally have low combat abilities, and due to the majority of Servants having some form of Magic Resistance, this class is thought to be the weakest of all seven. However, the ability to utilize arts lost to the modern systems of Magecraft does present its own tangible benefits.
The Berserker was the class of the mad warriors. From antiquity, Heroes had a tendency to embrace their own madness to ensure their strength. Though it was obvious that a class that had their mind warped by the shapes of madness would have the disadvantage of changing their Servants from their “true nature”, or perhaps this madness was their “true nature” itself, but this merely made them a “dog” to their master. Perhaps, if that is what one needs, this would be for the best.
@ShadowKingmanShinobu had to surpass the individual who had given her such a rise. Someone who was truly the enemy of all womankind. A bastard who couldn’t even admit when he was wrong. She would prove to him that she was the superior magus.
Eastern and western arts were incompatible. Perhaps the same was true of women and men of different cultures. Though perhaps a “different culture” was not true in this day-and-age. The Japanese had their culture hugely ingrained in western arts and the like, imitating it with their own twists.
But Shinobu desired to win the grail war.
Her “offering” was simple. Simple enough to be mistaken by anyone else as a mundane item. Perhaps that wasn’t far from the truth. Simply put, it was but a simple lotus flower. But the association with a certain Prince might give Shinobu the ability to pull a strong “card”.
So she began, as the currently designated “Panty-man” had, to summon her servant.
Saying
some chuuni shit the summoning ritual, eventually the circle reacted to her and her “offering”. She had to summon a Servant as powerful as “Panty-man”,otherwise she wouldn’t be able to live this down.
@Nanashi NinanaiIt was time for Ravel to begin her summoning. She had not a single shred of what could be considered a "catalyist". However, she didn’t need a catalyst. She would summon the best heroes without one, as she was destined to do so. Perhaps not on the forefront of her mind, but there was a degree of pride in herself. Ravel was a magus who had been from a dying family revitalized by her genes. Her existence was one of chance, and she had given herself to that discipline long ago. Luck would be on her side, as luck had sided with Ravel Livoria D’Arby long ago.
"You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance ―――! It was time to see what “card” she pulled. Surely the best, no doubt in her mind. She would pull the “Saber-classed” card.
@AtomicNutIt was a simple ritual. In fact, it was hardly anything fancy considering what one summons.
A Hero.
A being that is the idealization of humanity, from it’s worst to its best. After all, what was a human without hope. Hope for the new day is what drove humanity to tame the world with its tools and machines. Hope which drives one to protect what one cares about.
But heroes aren’t without flaws. Even the most idealized hero is to have something which caused them to lose their way. Some sort of chain holding them down, and a wish to change what they had wronged.
Anyone would want to do so. After all, what is wrong can be changed to something that is “right”, and the “right” trumps the “wrong” in every instance.
Caring to change the wrongs to write is a different story though. After all, Heroes were being that are idealized by humanity. If they are to regret their choices, they have failed that pedestal which is so favorably granted to them.
The man before the young girl was definitely strange looking for a hero. Though muscular, his frame was lean. His [jumpsuit] armor was a deep blue which seemed to match his hair, hard to imagine that something like his armor would offer much protection. His eyes a deep red, as if to show some sort of “difference” between himself and the commonfolk. If anything, one could definitely state that he was exceptionally pleasing to look at. Perhaps enough to make men scared for their wives’ sake. Perhaps enough to force an individual to marry so they may have a shred of hope their wives would stop ogling the man.
His face had a bestial grin, and his stretch mirrored the same. Perhaps it wouldn’t be wrong to say that there was a degree of humanity about the person before Athena. At the same time there existed a more bestial existence. A hidden rage and passion perhaps buried behind the smile.
For the time being, he seemed satiated.
But the most important thing about the man before Athena was the spear in his hand. A weapon that seemed simple at first glance; a spear died a crimson red. But one can see what appeared to be barbs on the pole of the spear.
Every servant understands who their master is. It is as a child who looks at their mother’s face the first time they are born, or a similar idea at least. A Master held a “bond” with their Servant. One that drew deeper as time went on.
A Master merely acted as the anchor for the Servant. The "power of the grail" is what had been successful in summoning the Servant. Under normal circumstances, Magi are not able to supply the sort of prana needed to sustain such a being, of which not even the 5 Mages would be able to make a familiar contract with. Being that powerful the existences known as Masters were important to keep in line. Hence the creation of the command seals. Every Servant knew of these. They were the “timeout” button a Master could use to enforce a demand upon their Servant.
“Yo, Mast…” The Heroic Spirit known as Cu Chulainn had held promises to many people. In fact, had he been summoned in his “true form” rather than a replication of his Heroic Self, perhaps his bindings would have followed in the form of the geas he had inflicted upon himself in life. He held each and every promise to those who were his “lord”, or at the very least attempted to.
“Wait a second, my Master’s a child!?” But he never held a reason to listen to a child before. But something didn’t feel right. The child before him … she was clearly the one who held his command seals. He could feel it from the established contract the two shared. Even the most rudimentary magus could discern such trivialities. But the Blue Spearman of the Wind didn’t feel “weighed down” by his Master. Perhaps it was the fact there was a shared ritual, however ,the Blue Spearman, though not a traditional “magus”, did understand that perhaps his Master was not as they seemed
