Lildear18
Lighthouse
DarkRecon
shylarah
Hitman
Infinite Cosmos
Half Pint
Phase
Carlyle
GubGarAugust Thane
The Clock Tower
August already knew the way to the headmaster’s office, although he had never met the man who he would be dealing with once he got there. The halls of the Clock Tower were all too familiar to him, and as he traversed the corridors he saw a few familiar faces and shared a couple of knowing glances. The prestigious families that dominated the European Magecraft community were always trying to one-up each other in terms of both magical knowledge and social standing, and while August had been called on occasionally to fetch artifacts in a more official setting, most of his jobs were private errands driven by the Clock Tower’s politics, and such work often involved non-disclosure agreements. On a calmer day, August would have pondered what dark dealings or strange rituals might well have been occurring behind each of the hundreds of finely-crafted doors that lined the hallways of the Clock Tower, but this day in particular held an urgency that caused him to walk with intense purpose towards his destination. Today, August Thane would join his allies in cementing themselves as the Masters of Black in the Great Holy Grail War by summoning their Servants.
August’s work had always been focused on the retrieval of rare and valuable magic items and the occasional runaway mage, with combat being a common occurrence, but rarely a requirement. While his policy was always to approach things with confidence and courage, he was feeling somewhat out of his depth, having been requested to participate in a battle on this scale. Although I suppose I won’t be doing much of the fighting, August reminded himself, not for the first time. It was unusual for him to be forced to accept the existence of an unassailable wall, but he was fully aware of the power gap that existed between Heroic Spirits and humans. In the upcoming war, he would be filling a support role, while the true battles would be fought by legendary heroes. Legendary heroes… will my own servant really count among their ranks? August was determined to make himself useful among his teammates, but found the relic his father had provided him with to be underwhelming. The catalyst lay along with a few other items in the briefcase August held securely under his right arm. The shattered and weather-worn quarter of a ship’s helm had initially excited him, as he assumed his family’s penchant for treasure-hunting would have provided them with some ancient and valuable relics. Names like Queen Anne's Revenge, Golden Hind, and The Argo came to mind, but when Charles revealed the true nature of the hunk of wood he planned for his son to use, August was more than a little disappointed. His father had insisted that The Rime of the Ancient Mariner was closely based on true events, and that the titular character would make for a powerful Servant, but August couldn’t find much justification behind these claims. While it was true that the poem recounted many miraculous and strange events, the Mariner himself didn’t do a whole lot, and it was doubtful how much of the power that existed around that man would translate into his own power when he manifested. If nothing else, he should be pretty survivable, so maybe he could function as a sort of tank. Even if the poem really is just fiction, I'll get a Servant the Grail sees as right for me, so I'll be able to participate in the war, regardless. Nonetheless, Charles had promised that the broken wheel would aid him, and there was no chance he would intentionally sabotage his own family in regards to such a critical matter.
It was just as August affirmed his own decision in his mind that he arrived at the door he was looking for. He knocked sharply on the well-polished wood, and once he received an invitation, swung the door wide and stepped inside. There were three people already inside the headmaster’s office, but there was no question in August’s mind which one was Director Orson. He had seen enough prestigious mages that he could recognize one even if they were dressed in rags on the side of the road. August strode toward the desk where Director Orson sat, giving the two other men a professional smile and nod as he passed them by before extending his hand to the Director. “Good afternoon. You must be Director Orson.” After briefly confirming his identity and possession of a catalyst with the Director, August turned to take a seat among the other men who were no doubt among his fellow masters-to-be. He considered striking up a conversation, but decided to await the arrival of more of their teammates before diving into introductions and planning.
