TheBumblingOne

Fate/Iliou Persis

[color=ed1c24][/color]

Caster of Red - Skuld

Caster remained still, considering her master's words carefully. While it was true that the masters of their own alliance were more than likely going to betray them if given the opportunity, it felt strange to already be planning for the dissolution of alliances. Of course, when it came to the mention of combat prowess Caster could not deny her own weakness. In a fight against most servants, her loss was almost certain if she were to stand and fight to the death. Caster raised her hand as if to accomplish some manner of brutality upon the squirrel that had intruded, but she lowered it once she sensed nothing hostile from it. Closing her eyes once more, Caster shut the world out from her eyes once more before she returned to her Master's side.

"Scouting...I see. I do have a solution, albeit a rudimentary one. Any living or dead that I could construct would be dispensed immediately...but a curse carried by one of your familiars could allow me to raise a number of the dead beneath their very feet," Caster said, a faint smile to her lips. "The countless clawing dead beneath their feet would serve to, if nothing else, let us observe their methods of combat. Alternatively, I could shroud the presence of a servant, preferrably Assassin, to scout themselves. I once hid an entire army in shadow, so one body would be trivial. Aside from that however, I am sad to say that I am not a scout my Master."

With her head bowed, Caster wondered which method her Master preferred. After all, if the dead were dispatched immediately then it would only serve to give the opposite alliance knowledge of her form of combat. But sending Assassin alone, even with an enchantment, was tantamount to suicide if a single misstep occurred.

@The Irish Tree

Jacob Arling, Master of Red, Red Faction Base

Jacob stilled his motions and thought. Both options were valid considerations, as well as valid concerns. To use his familiars as a conduit for Caster's curses would undoubtedly cause a commotion amongst the Blue Faction, but it would also tip their hand and hint towards the abilities of one of the Red's Servants, and from there it wouldn't take much to narrow the culprit down to Caster, but at the least it wouldn't do much to hint at her identity.

On the other hand, Assassin WAS a Servant of their Class for a reason after all. The enchantments that Caster could provide may very well be enough to ensure that Assassin wouldn't be detected, but that didn't remove the possibility of the Blue possessing a Servant that could detect them. Despite his earlier words the idea of losing their factions Assassin so early into the War was, in truth, A horrifying prospect.

A nod of his head and he came to a decision before he turned back to his Servant with a cheery smile and a wave of his arm.

"Caster my dear, I think both of your ideas are wonderful. I propose thus, we imbue my familiars with your curse as suggested and send them running through the enemies stronghold. While they act as a distraction and raise hell, our Sweet Assassin shall slip in and conduct a mission of her own".

He bowed to his Servant, cane flourished to the side and one hand upon his hat as he tilted his head, orange bangs parted and allowing a single eye to gaze up at his Servant, shining faintly with the color of a storming sea.

"If you agree, I shall seek out Assassin and their Master at once to propose the plan. What say you, O Caster?"

Fate/Iliou Persis

Caster of Red - Skuld

There was a slight pause in Caster's movements before she ever so gently held her hands out. "I would very much like that candy."

Upon either receiving here chocolate or being pranked in some fashion, Caster would listen carefully to her Master's words, her body almost corpse-like in its stillness as she awaited his words to finish. It felt a bit awkward to be corrected on the phrasing of her question...but her Master seemed to be an eccentric person regardless. Just one of his quirks, she supposed, to rephrase the words of others to their true meaning. ...Or maybe she just sounded foolish, asking such a question in this bloody ritual. A simple: "I see," was what Caster offered to her Master, before her eyes opened slowly. They were a sight to behold, an unnatural gold that shone so deeply that she seemed to lack pupils. Jacob could presume that she was blind in some capacity given the slight bit of cloudiness to her eyes, but whatever sense she lacked she made up for with her Magecraft.

"Then, my Master, I will slay in your name and your name alone. Your will shall be my own, and, in time, I shall deliver you the grail. I confess, I would not be a powerful servant were it not for the nature of this war," Caster said, approaching a nearby window and gently placing her hand upon the glass panes. "Time, and cadavers are all that I need. A thousand dead for one wish. Whether that is for you, or another, it doesn't matter to me. So long as I remain in this world, I will reach for the grail for your sake," Skuld said, before smiling widely, looking at something that existed only in her mind outside of the window. "Oh, and an additional thought to spare you, Master: Command Spells for my obedience will not be necessary. You giving me free reign to gather the dead is all I could ever want. My wish is my Noble Phantasm...and with it, your's will be delivered."

Just as quickly as her smile came, it would slowly dip off of Caster's face, resuming her neutral expression. "Is there anything in particular you wish to discuss aside from that matter, my Master?"

@The Irish Tree

Jacob Arling, Master of Red, Red Faction Base

Jacob stopped at the closed door with a hum, palming at his chin with one gloved hand, while his other reached out and grasped the cane that leaned against the wall.

"Truthfully Caster, I feel the only thing we can talk about is the direction we want this War to go, as well as the direction it is most likely to go. As it stands, this Alliance of Red and the opposing Alliance of Blue are temporary constructs at best, they won't last once enough of the enemy has been eliminated", despite his words the redheaded Master continued to hold his carefree demeanor, A soft smile on his face and his eyes hidden by fiery locks, idly spinning his cane like a top.

" While I truly mean you no offence, the fact remains that in a head-on conflict with any Servants save the Assassin's, the Caster of Blue, and possibly our Berserker, you and I are not in good standing to come out of this War with the Grail ourselves. We need information, and though we can get such insights into our faction with little trouble, the Blue Faction will be far more tricky", here he paused and clicked his tongue. From behind the bookshelves the sound of scurrying erupted and with a soft squeak a small gray squirrel appeared, running across the room and up the old Magus' body to rest comfortably on his shoulder.

"I've heard talk of an effort to scout the holdings of the Blue, and while my darling Squirrels are all that's needed back home, I fear they'd be rather obvious here in old Troy. So I would hope, without disrespect O Magus from the Age of Gods, that you may possess a solution to these troubles? I obviously have no intention of sending you out there in person, but some spells of surveillance or familiars of your own could definitely solve the issue I think".

Fate/Iliou Persis

If any one needs to message me about something for the RP, please do it here. My phone is broken, and I am unsure as to when exactly it will be repaired, and as such, I will be missing from the Discord for some time.

Fate/Iliou Persis

Caster of Red - Skuld

"Did you sleep well, my Master?"

Within the air above Jacob Arling, a slight change in pressure could be observed as something moved, flickering particles of light blue converging on a singular point before, as if the air itself was being painted over, the pallid woman that was his Servant emerged. Her feet were firmly pressed against the ceiling, transfixed as if her heels were bolted there like a chandelier before she released her hold on the material. Her descent was gradual, until she stood beside Jacob's desk, off to the left of his seat. Her eyeless gaze would fall upon him as she considered for a moment whether taking the chocolate was a good idea or not.

"I do not know much about the sweets of this time...but I would not turn down an offer from you. If anything is to be discussed first, then let it be this..." Skuld said, before the strange eyes she possessed opened and stared at Jacob.

"To win this war on your behalf, many will die. That is an unavoidable requirement of my Noble Phantasm. There cannot be victory without sacrifice, my master. Blood will fill the grail you seek, but you have time yet to reconsider," the elven caster said, before slowly fixing her gaze on the bar of chocolate, the pointed ears sticking from the sides of her head flicking to and fro in a wiggling motion.

"...What flavor is it?"

@The Irish Tree

Jacob Arling, Master of Red, Workshop, Red Faction Base

"To start with, the more important question", he said with a closed eyed smile as he tilted his head back slightly, "It chocolate with a caramel filling".

The bar of candy wiggled in time with his wrist motion as he gave the snack a gentle shake in his Servant's direction.

"As for your prior question...", at this point he paused and reached out with his free hand and gently flicked his hat off the desk. Where most would expect the hat to fall towards the carpet below, for a brief moment there was a small and near invisible waver in the air, as instead, the hat sailed.

It glided across the room, spinning on the gentle breeze that had sprung up out of nowhere, as though a ghostly hand of wind had reached out and grabbed hold. It was smooth, quick trip, before the hat completed its small circuit of the room and softly plopped itself down comfortably on Jacob's head with a quiet patting sound as the youthful looking magus stood in a single, smooth motion.

"As for your prior question, its simple really. The question should not be whether or not I will be able to stomach the carnage of the Grail War. Rather it should be 'How much would the potential result of civilian casualties affect you. How much do the lives of the innocent people of Çanakkale matter to your conscience', and the answer would be: Not Much", he continued his previous words, laying the bar of chocolate upon his desk and pulling a glove back onto his bare and scared hand.

He shrugged his arms and splayed his hands in a " What can you do?", gesture as he looked back over his shoulder at the Elven Caster with a carefree smile.

"They say that to be a Magus is to walk with death. Yet they've never said we couldn't do so as an observer instead of a retrieval. Personally if I'm to be a subject on Deaths table one day, I'd much rather be am assistant handling Delivery first".

Fate/Iliou Persis

Might as well toss a new Rider in. Even if he isn't taken, at least I'll have a sheet ready if any future RPs pop up. Its a bit of a work in progress, I know what I want to put, I simply need clarify with the GMs what is and isn't gonna work.

Rider Submission

Class: Rider

Team: Blue

True Name: Memnon

Appearance

Modern

Servant (No Helmet)

Sex: Male

Alignment: Lawful Good

Attribute: Earth

History: The son of Tithonus, a prince of Troy, and the Goddess of the Dawn, Eos. Memnon was raised in the African land of Ethiopia. At some point he became King of the land, and upon receiving word of the Siege of Troy, took his forces north to aid his distant kin.

Labeled as the Salvation of Troy by King Priam, Memnon led his massive army into battle the day after his arrival, pushing the Greeks back to their boats. Memnon fought valiantly, with skill and courage, slaying several warriors, such as the Pylians Ereuthus and Pheron, as well as the son of King Nestor, Antilochus in vengeance for the death of his friend and comrade Aesop.

When Nestor attempted to avenge his son's death against Memnon, the Ethiopian King refused, knowing there would be no honor or justice in killing a grieving old man. Enraged at the refusal, Nestor begged mighty Achilles to take vengeance for him. The Myrmidon Lord agreed.

As the two Demigods met in the center of the field, Zeus himself forbade any of the gods of Olympus from interfering in their battle, and as the two fought, all around them stilled to watch the duel. For a whole day the two Divine Warriors fought across the sands of the beach, trading blow after blow, clad in armor forged by Hephaestus himself and wielding weapons blessed by the gods, their skill matched only by one another. Eventually however, their fight came to an end, and though Memnon managed to pierce his foes arms, Achilles drove his spear forward in retaliation, striking Memnon's heart and ending his life.

Personality: Rider is different from many Greek Heroes of old. While he does indeed have his Pride, both as a King and a Servant, he is neither arrogant nor boastful, but rather quiet and humble. He does not actively seek battle, but should conflict find him, he is not one to run away from it.

He is calm, and contemplative, and does not believe in predetermined outcomes. He does not try to predict the future, stating that is impossible to know what will happen, before it happens, and trying otherwise will simply bring about the worst possible outcome. He is a man who, if told he was to die in battle the next day, would still march out anyway, saying that it is simply the King's duty to see things through to the end.

That isn't to say that he'll simply lay down and die, but rather than fight to save himself, he will fight to save his people. He is a King who believes the Path of a King is one where they give their all in service to the people. They are a Symbol of Peace who safeguards the happiness of their citizens, so that they can smile without fear and live a life of safety and prosperity.

He is a Hero, one stands against malice and calamity, protecting all who fall under his banner, in a manner not unlike a father to his children. A man who loves life, he disdains killing, but accepts it as a necessary evil that is sometimes the only option one has.
Parameters
Strength: B
Agility: B
Endurance: C
Mana: C
Luck: C

Class Skills
Magic Resistance: C
-A skill granting protection against magical spells and effects, at the current Rank, Rider is capable of defending against simple Magecraft and Spells with a chant below two verses. He cannot however withstand mysteries on level of High Thaumaturgy or Greater Rituals.

Riding: B
-A skill native to Rider and Saber class Servants, it is the ability to ride various mounts and vehicles, though it does not confer the ability to ride or control beasts like Dragons. At the current rank, Rider can handle most mounts with above average skill, including vehicles that did not exist when he was alive. However, it does not grant him the ability to utilize Phantasmal Species as Mounts.

Personal Skills
Divinity: C
-A skill measures ones aptitude and connection to the Gods. Rider possesses the current rank due to his existence as the sun of the Dawn Goddess, Eos.

Charisma: B
-A skill consisting of ones ability to charm others as well as their natural talent to Command, Unify, and Inspire. It is a skill that increases the Combat Ability of Allies during group battles, and at the current rank Rider is able to command and influence the Morale and Fighting Spirit of others to an extremely high degree, as well as counter skills and abilities that would otherwise afflict absolute obedience.

Tactics: C
-Tactical Knowledge used for large-scale battles, it grants Bonus Modifiers when utilizing one's own Anti-Army Noble Phantasm, or when defending against an enemy Servant's Anti-Army type Noble Phantasm. A warrior King who took part in many wars and battles, his final conflict was the defence of Troy against Greek Forces. As a Servant, Rider receives a bonus towards his ability to command when acting as the commander of Counter-Attack Force.

Affection of the Gods: B
-A skill symbolizing the Favour of the Olympian Gods, Rider was said to be a man who was "Beloved by all the Gods", and was favoured by Zeus most of all. In battle, this skill acts in q manner akin to the skill [Mana Burst: Lightning], allowing Rider to channel the Divine Lightning of Zeus through his body and weapons in order to augment and enhance his combat potential.

Noble Phantasm

O Aktinovólos Stratós, Memnonides
(My People, Let Our Light Outshine the Sun)
Rank: B
Type: Anti-Army
Range: 1~30
Targets: 100
Description: Rider's ever loyal army, their size was said to be "Too massive to count", and the very sight of them struck such fear into the hearts of the Greek army that they immediately fled back towards their camp. When Rider was slain in battle, his men refused to abandon their Kings body and fought fiercely to protect it from Achean savagery, having heard the fate of brave Hector. Moved by their dedication, bravery, and grief, Zeus changed them into great birds, the Memnonides, so they could watch over their Kings grave and sing of his glory for all time.

When activated, the Noble Phantasm summons the Loyal Army of the Ethiopian King as ghostly figures (similar to the 300 warriors of a certain Spartan) who will proceed to charge towards the enemy, and leap into the air. Once they jump, they transform in flashes of golden light, becoming spectral birds who fly towards their foes like living artillery, detonating in blasts of magical energy on impact. There is no exact limit to how many wraiths can be summoned at once, and as long as his Master has the magical energy to spare, Rider can simply call forth more and more.

Efchés
(Blessed Chariot of the Sun)
Rank: C+
Type: Anti-Army
Range: 40
Targets: 20
Description: A special chariot gifted to Rider by his mother, it is modeled after his grandfather Helios' [Chariot of the Sun]. When its True Name is invoked, it releases an Aura of Golden energy that will heal allied combatants of any negative status effects, ailments, and minor wounds. Should its name be invoked during the day however, it is capable of channeling and enhancing the energies of the Sun itself, massively increasing the chariots speed while trailing a fiery crimson aura that will burn whatever it touches to ash.

Avgerinós
(Spear that Calls forth the Dawn)
Rank: D+
Type: Anti-Unit
Range: 0~5
Targets: 1
Description: Rider's primary weapon, a spear of black and gold, its blade is incredibly sharp and it construction is firm and solid. When summoned as a Lancer, the spear receives upgrades from the God Hephaestus, however as a Rider, it is simply an extremely well made weapon. While it lacks many of its more powerful abilities and properties, Rider is still capable of using it as a Noble Phantasm, utilizing the spear as a focus for his magical energy, he channels it into the point of the spear before dashing forward on foot or in his chariot, for a devastating thrust attack designed to pierce through enemy armor and defenses.

Fate/Iliou Persis

Jacob Arling, Master of Red, Workshop, Red Faction Base

The room had a homey feeling, its atmosphere almost golden from the candles and fireplace erected within. At the single large desk sat a young man, youthful and handsome in his features, dressed in the fashion of a century past, a dark blue coat covering his body above the desktop, frills poking out from the slightly too long sleeves and white gloves covering his hands. A jeweled cravat of blue silk rested upon his throat, and his hair hung over his face, orange and fiery yet refusing to appear messy or uncared for. A simple top hat sat on the edge of the table, out of his way as his hands moved in smooth, precise motions.

The soft rasping noise of a brush on paper filled the room as he worked, shapes and symbols in bloody red stretching across the sheets of parchment before him, A large pile of copies already finished sitting in an open drawer. He worked quietly, focused entirely on the sigils in front of him, not making even the faintest of sounds, to all the world barely even appearing to breath, the gentle movements of his chest being the only sign that he was indeed a living person and not some sort of automaton. In the soft candle light, the ink he painted with shimmered in crimson red like freshly spilled blood, the color dancing and sparkling before one's eyes.

Like the stars, that glimmering light had an almost hypnotic effect as the young man worked, his mind calming and sinking into that immaterial sea of the mind, memories floating across the eyes of consciousness even as his body continued to work and move, almost a puppet in its actions.

He remembers many things. He remembered the births and deaths of all his siblings. He remembered learning the ways of magecraft under his father's tutelage, learning how to activate and utilize his magic circuits. He remembered playing with his brothers in the yard, running 'round rocks and trees, wooden swords smacking and cracking against one another. He remembered leaving for the Clock Tower and studying beneath the various professors. He remembered returning to his home, years gone by and now a man. He remembered cutting down whoever stood in his way as he purged the sickness from his clan, piece by piece, life after life.

All this he remembers, and yet all this is merely a brief instance, a flashing sequence of events in his mind's eye as his thoughts are taken up with the conversation that had brought him to this land.

×××××
"These words are...true", he questioned, eyes focused upon the sheet of paper in his hand. His other hand brought up a cup of coco, warm and steamy as he took a sip, before placing the letter on his desk. Across the room stood one his descendents, Henry, if he recalled correctly. Aged twenty-seven, average potential, nothing special, focused his efforts on water based mysteries and had a strange fondness for the bowl cut. Perhaps he thought it made him look charming?

"Yes Great-Grandfather", the boy spoke softly, respectfully, head bowed and hands clasped before him. To an outsider it would have likely appeared as though he were in prayer. " Cousin Michael was sure to confirm the validity of the declaration with others in the association before sending his report. The magus Hektor Bahadir is in possession of the Greater Grail and intends a ritual that could destabilize the whole of the world. The Association is putting together a team to stand against him".

The young man hummed in contemplation, before giving a soft whistle. At once two squirrels dashed towards the desk from the roof beams above. Rolling the letters into small tubes, the man attached them to two small harnesses worn by the Familiars before speaking.

"Take these messages to the library, give them to Judith and ensure she archives them correctly. Henry, tell the servants to prepare my bags, I've a trip to undertake".

The Familiars bowed their heads and sped off, hopping to the floor and running through the door. Henry however stayed, now watching his grandfather in shock.

"You, you intend to participate", his voice was wavered slightly an almost poleaxed expression on his visage as his elder stood and walked towards the open window, looking out over the manor grounds as men, women, and children moved this way and that. Some were simple servants and staff, others his own kin, and others still visiting magi from allied families and associates.

"Of course I intend to participate. The Association has been good to us Henry, never forget that. We wouldn't be where we are now if it wasn't for their assistance".

Henry went bug eyed as he stared. "But, but the preparations for the meeting, you've been setting up this conclave for months, years even! You can't seriously mean your going to throw it away over some nobody in the middle of nowhere!?", he exclaimed. He made to continue, yet-

"Enough".

A single word, simple and direct. Henry made a choking sound as he realized the tone he had begun to take, skin paling to near white as he started shiver and shake. Slowly, gently, his grandfather turned his head to regard him, a single shining eye locking the boy in place.

"You will not address me in such a way again. Understood?"

His words were spoken with a smile, yet the feeling that struck Henry Arling was one all members of the clan were familiar with. A cold, cruel presence that woke whenever one thought to challenge the youthful head of their Family.

As though Death itself had stepped into the room.

Henry bowed in jerky, staggering motion, hand over his heart and eyes closed in submission. Sweat dripped from his forehead and soft hiccuping sounds escaped his throat as he tried to get his breathing under control.

"F-forgive me, G-Grandfather. I f-f-forgot my manners S-Sir, I promise...it won't happen again", the last words were spoken in a panicked rush as Henry stood still, bowed and rooted in place as he heard his grandfather walk around his desk until he stood directly before him. He waited quietly, trembling in fear until he flinched, feeling his grandfather's gloved hand upon his head.

"You needn't worry my boy. I understand that you were simply worried for the family. Still, its rather clear to me that you are under a sever amount of stress, so I say, why don't you go and rest for a while? Take a nap, read a book, something. I'll see you again at dinner".

The dismissal was as clear as the sky, and Henry wasted no time giving his thanks as he backed out of the room, before turning and fleeing as fast as he could without actually running. The elder Magus watched him for a moment, then turned, and walked back towards his desk. A simple motion of hand saw the large doors of heavy, old oak swing shut with the smallest whisper of wind, making nary a sound as they closed. Lifting his cup, he resumed drinking the chocolate liquid within, before he grimaced and set it back down. 'Cold'.

As he stood, his mind drifted back to the words on the letters. A Holy Grail War. This, he decided, would be most interesting
×××××

He woke from his stupor with a small start, focusing once more upon the spell sheets before him. Where once the stack of parchment was small, now it was large, easily more than foot of perfect magical sigils done in scarlet ink.

If only paperwork could be this easy.

The Magus leaned back in his seat, opening and closing his hands to help circulate the blood within and smiled, before he pulled of the glove on his left hand. A crimson tattoo adorned the back, three bright red stigmata in the form of what appeared to be a bird in flight. He wasn't entirely sure how or why the Command Seals had taken such an appearance, perhaps eluding to the wild and free nature of his magecraft? He wasn't certain but he didn't consider it a particularly important inquiry.

He smiled once more, and reached into his pocket before pulling out, of all things, A bar of chocolate. He opened it packaging, took a bite, and contemplated before he swallowed and looked towards the ceiling as though he were about to address God.

"Caster dear", he spoke, smiling like a child, open and full of joy and excitement, "Would you happen to like some candy, I feel we should converse and prepare for the things to come".

"Yes", Jacob Roan Arling, fourty seventh head of the Arling Mage Clan thought, "This will be most interesting indeed".

Fate/Iliou Persis

Jacob Roan Arling

Name: Jacob Roan Arling

Titles:

Team: Red

Appearance

Sex: Male

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

History: The head of the Arling Magus Clan, Jacob was born into a fading lineage sometime in the late 17th century in England. Trapped in a slow, yet certain decline from both their own self destructive traditions as well as the damage done to their Magic Crest in the last hundred odd years, the Arling bloodline had all but their end as Magi. Jacob did not.

Gaining entry into the Clock Tower of the Mage's Association at the age of thirteen, Jacob would spend the next few years in intense study and research looking for ways to help his family. Eventually he would come to the conclusion that the problem lay in the clan itself, and that drastic action would have to be taken.

Leaving the Clock Tower around the age of nineteen he would travel the world for several years before eventually returning to his clan's estate and enacting a swift and brutal purge of those elements and individuals he felt were restricting their future. The next two hundred years would be spent restoring their family's fortunes, slowly repairing their Magic Crest, forging new connections and alliances and other necessary actions.

Personality: A sharp and shrewd individual, Jacob hides his intelligence behind the mask of a erratic and eccentric child, matching that of his physical appearance rather than his actual age. He is quick to spiral in long tangents and tales, often without an end in sight, and becomes easily distracted by candies and pastries of all kinds, often carrying several sweets hidden on his person.

He often shows a playful and childish persona, rarely taking things seriously, even when in mortal danger, simply smiling and offering a treat of some sort. Even when calm, he rarely is seen without a smile on his face and a gentle look in his eyes.

To him things are not a matter of Good and Evil, but what benefits or hampers his clan. In this way, he is an ideal Magus. He can easily recognize the potential threat a person can be, and is always watching and analyzing someone new, even when they don't think he can see them.

Magecraft
Quality of Circuits: A

Quantity of Circuits: D

Elemental Affinity: Wind & Water

Attribute: Flow/Transfer of Power, Reinforcement

Magecraft

General Magecraft: The basics of Magecraft, while only a cursory education on them was given by his family, Jacob was quick to study and master these guidelines during his time in the Clock Tower. Of those spells, he became most adapt at the use of Formalcraft and Self-Healing Curses.

Arling Clan Magecraft: The tradition mysteries of the Arling Lineage, it deals with the study and manipulation of the weather, specializing in the usage of large scale, area of effect type spells and rituals of the water and wind elements. Using this magecraft Jacob is capable of creating lashing torrents of rain, massive banks of blinding fog, gales of wind, and devastating storms of thunder and lightning. While many of the larger spells do indeed require either multiple participants or an increased time spent casting, Jacob is more than able to utilize this system of Thaumaturgy in order to augment his more basic elemental attacks and mysteries.

Elemental Magecraft: Elemental manifestation and manipulation, it is a fairly basic magecraft dedicated towards the usage of the elements, most commonly as attacks in combat. Jacob himself utilizes the elements of Wind and Water and shows a decently high degree of control over both. He is, however, also able to use electricity by channeling the natural electromagnetic fields of the earth as well as the leftover remnants or building energies of a storm, utilizing his own body as a sort of focus.

Botany and Herblore: A byproduct of the Arling's origin as Druids, and their history of using their magecraft for crop production, they possess a number of spells and mysteries related to the subject of various plants and alchemical concoctions made from them. This includes medicinal aids, poisons, sleep aids, fertility aids, elixirs for the safe activation of one's Magic Circuits, simple hygiene products, and even hair dye, etc. etc.

Lifestream: Less a style of Magecraft than a specific ritual, the Lifestream is a technique Jacob developed late in his worldly travels, prior to his purge of the Arling clan. First properly utilized during his family's cleansing, the Lifestream channels the ambient magical energy, both from the surrounding land as well as any nearby living beings. Taking the form of wild electricity, the energy will slowly begin to drift towards the spellcaster before quickly gaining speed. It will then start to enter the magus' body as the energy is absorbed to prolong and maintain one's health and vitality.

The usage of this ability is noted to be painful in the extreme, and the first proper activation nearly killed Jacob via what could only be described as a "Magical Overload", leaving him with numerous scars and burns across his body. Though Jacob has perfected the process somewhat, it is still extremely painful to use, and is a stop gap measure at best. While it will certainly slow his aging to a significant degree, it still causes intense stress towards the body, and it will eventually give out, even if physically he will never look older than middle aged at most.

Mystic Codes
Bandersnatch: Jacob's cane. It is crafted from specifically treated steel, and separates into several pieces connected by bronze wiring. By channeling electric magecraft and reinforcement magecraft along the cane Jacob is able to control and direct it's motion in the manner of a whip, capable of smashing through concrete and tearing through flesh.

Non-Magecraft Abilities/Items:
He is surprisingly gifted in the realm of gambling. Be it poker, blackjack, simple games of dice, etc. More often than not he is on the winning end of the bet receiving a hefty payout.

He knows his way around the human body, and as such has considerable knowledge of the medical field. He can be trusted to fix and heal someone of all but the most grievous wounds, and has a vast understanding of mundane drugs and medications.

Trivia

°He enjoys cooking his own meals, while he is no master chef, he is more than capable of preparing and healthy and filling breakfast, lunch, or dinner.
°His favourite meal is a simple breakfast of bacon, sausage, eggs (sunny side up), buttered toast, and light coffee.
°He has several descendants living on the family estate in the forested hills of England. Of all of them, he only truly spoils and dotes on his "great-grandaughter" (farther along than that) Stella, A young girl who favours gardening and animals, though she has little magical potential herself.
°Physically, he appears no older than 15 or 16 years old, in truth, he is 233.

Fate/Iliou Persis

Zahāk

Class: Berserker
Team: Red
True Name: Zahāk-e Tāzī

Appearance

Sex: Male
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Attribute: Earth

History
A King of ancient Persia, he was said to be the son of the evil queen and sorceress Ōdag, fathered by the good king Merdās, A vassal of King Jamshid, the ruler of the whole world.

Zahāk was a handsome and clever young man, but was prone to indecision and hesitation and was thus easily lead by the nobles and courtiers of his father's court. The God of Evil, Aŋra Mainiiu, desired chaos in the peaceful and orderly world, and so chose Zahāk to be the harbinger of his arrival. Taking the guise of a young nobleman, the dark God approached and befriended the young prince. He was Zahāk's closest friend and confidant, whispering in the prince's ear what was needed to succeed against his father's rivals and enemies, teaching him how to better himself be it through battle or knowledge, gifting him with fine meats and wines, succulent candies and golden honey.

It could therefore be of no surprise that when the prince's dearest friend told him of the danger their kingdom faced, Zahāk listened. Convinced by Aŋra's words Zahāk murdered his own father, believing he had fallen into sin and would lead the Kingdom into ruin, and would later go on to rebel against King Jamshid as well.

In his quest to save his people, Zahāk would become a monstrous tyrant who would oppress and enslave his subjects, committing countless atrocities in the process. He would eventually be overthrown and slain by the warrior Frēdōn upon the slopes of Mt. Damavānd, freeing Persia from his tyranny and freeing Zahāk from his madness.

Personality
Berserker is cold and callous, not one for needless chatter, but when he does speak he does so without any regard for the feelings or desires of others. He is cynical and jaded by his experiences in life and is slow to trust others, if he even can. He shows no reverence, nor supplication before the gods or their clerics, and holds no respect for what could be considered sacred and holy, wholeheartedly believing that he was abandoned by God in life to be tainted by All The Worlds Evils without any hope of salvation.

Berserker is plagued by self-loathing, viewing himself as a fool who allowed his own loneliness and despair drive him into the arms of evil and sees the idea of hoping for a better future to be meaningless and little more than a tragedy waiting to happen.

The simple fact that he can be summoned fills him with no small amount of shock, as well as skepticism as to whether the Throne and Grail were truly meant to summon what could be called Heroes. He does not believe that the Grail can truly grant him his wish, and as such cannot fully fathom just why he accepted it's Summons. Perhaps, despite his words and disdain for the idea of hope, Berserker himself hopes to find something that can truly ease his pain, and grant his Wish for a better story of his own.

Parameters (>> Effected by Skills)
STR: C >> B+
END: B >> A
AGI: C >> B
MAG: C >> B+
LCK: E >> D

Class Skills
Madness Enhancement: EX
A blind rage that characterizes the Berserker Class, in exchange for one's Sense of Reason the Servant in question receives a rank up to their Parameters, with greater loss of sanity resulting in greater boost to their combat power.

At the current rank Berserker is capable of speaking with others and holding a decent conversation while having most of his Parameters ranked up, however he holds a strong distaste for the divine, and should he encounter any Servants who possess levels in Divinity he will be wholly incapable of reaching an understanding with them, seeing them as nothing more than enemies to be destroyed when the opportunity presents itself.

Personal Skills
Divinity: E
A skill that confers a level of connection with the Divine, Berserker received the blessings of the Dark God at a young age and was said to be a living avatar of All The Worlds Evils, further enforced by rituals inacted by his mother before his birth. However due to Berserker's own hatred of the Gods, his parameters within the skill have fallen to one of the lowest possible ranks, merely registering him as someone who was "Touched by Divinity", in some way.

Cloak of 10,000 Curses: A+
According to legend, Berserker received a herd of ten thousand horses from Aŋra Mainiiu as a gift, each one a living curse of some form or another. In his current Manifestation, the skill acts similar to the "Mana Burst" skill, allowing Berserker to coat his weapons and body in an Aura of malicious curses handcrafted by the God of Evil himself.

Khvarenah Daevas: B
After usurping rule of the World from Jamshid, Berserker was said to use powerful magicks to oversee his kingdom with the aid of powerful demons. At the current rank, the skill allows Berserker to summon ten dark spirits or "Demons" to act in a manner similar to familiars, scouting the terrain and the enemy as well as assisting him in battle when necessary.

Monstrous Strength: C
A skill that will temporarily rank up ones Strength Parameter for a period of time, it is gained through one's nature as a Monster or Demonic Beast. Berserker would come to be viewed as a monster, A demon of Aŋra Mainiiu by his own people and future generations for the sins he committed. At the current rank, it grants Berserker the ability to tap into the strength of a monster for a short time while maintaining his human shape.

Noble Phantasm
Azhi Dahāka
(Dragon of the Dark God)
Rank: A
Type: Anti-Army/Anti-Unit (Self)
Range: 0
Targets: 1~~100
Description: A Transformation type Noble Phantasm, Azhi Dahāka allows Berserker to take on the shape of a great, black dragon, its body made from countless curses in physical form. In this form Berserker's very presence devastates the land as the earth blackens, water fouls, and plant life begins to wither and die. He wreaks destruction with a breath of cursed flame that melts all it touches, the curses present in its energy capable of overwhelming even high-tier Servants.

Fate/Iliou Persis

Jacob Roan Arling

Name: Jacob Roan Arling

Titles:

Team: Red

Appearance

Sex: Male

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

History: The head of the Arling Magus Clan, Jacob was born into a fading lineage sometime in the late 17th century in England. Trapped in a slow, yet certain decline from both their own self destructive traditions as well as the damage done to their Magic Crest in the last hundred odd years, the Arling bloodline had all but their end as Magi. Jacob did not.

Gaining entry into the Clock Tower of the Mage's Association at the age of thirteen, Jacob would spend the next few years in intense study and research looking for ways to help his family. Eventually he would come to the conclusion that the problem lay in the clan itself, and that drastic action would have to be taken.

Leaving the Clock Tower around the age of nineteen he would travel the world for several years before eventually returning to his clan's estate and enacting a swift and brutal purge of those elements and individuals he felt were restricting their future. The next two hundred years would be spent restoring their family's fortunes, slowly repairing their Magic Crest, forging new connections and alliances and other necessary actions.

Personality: A sharp and shrewd individual, Jacob hides his intelligence behind the mask of a erratic and eccentric child, matching that of his physical appearance rather than his actual age. He is quick to spiral in long tangents and tales, often without an end in sight, and becomes easily distracted by candies and pastries of all kinds, often carrying several sweets hidden on his person.

He often shows a playful and childish persona, rarely taking things seriously, even when in mortal danger, simply smiling and offering a treat of some sort. Even when calm, he rarely is seen without a smile on his face and a gentle look in his eyes.

To him things are not a matter of Good and Evil, but what benefits or hampers his clan. In this way, he is an ideal Magus. He can easily recognize the potential threat a person can be, and is always watching and analyzing someone new, even when they don't think he can see them.

Magecraft
Quality of Circuits: A

Quantity of Circuits: D

Elemental Affinity: Wind & Water

Attribute: Flow/Transfer of Power, Reinforcement

Magecraft

General Magecraft: The basics of Magecraft, while only a cursory education on them was given by his family, Jacob was quick to study and master these guidelines during his time in the Clock Tower. Of those spells, he became most adapt at the use of Formalcraft and Self-Healing Curses.

Arling Clan Magecraft: The tradition mysteries of the Arling Lineage, it deals with the study and manipulation of the weather, specializing in the usage of large scale, area of effect type spells and rituals of the water and wind elements. Using this magecraft Jacob is capable of creating lashing torrents of rain, massive banks of blinding fog, gales of wind, and devastating storms of thunder and lightning. While many of the larger spells do indeed require either multiple participants or an increased time spent casting, Jacob is more than able to utilize this system of Thaumaturgy in order to augment his more basic elemental attacks and mysteries.

Elemental Magecraft: Elemental manifestation and manipulation, it is a fairly basic magecraft dedicated towards the usage of the elements, most commonly as attacks in combat. Jacob himself utilizes the elements of Wind and Water and shows a decently high degree of control over both. He is, however, also able to use electricity by channeling the natural electromagnetic fields of the earth as well as the leftover remnants or building energies of a storm, utilizing his own body as a sort of focus.

Botany and Herblore: A byproduct of the Arling's origin as Druids, and their history of using their magecraft for crop production, they possess a number of spells and mysteries related to the subject of various plants and alchemical concoctions made from them. This includes medicinal aids, poisons, sleep aids, fertility aids, elixirs for the safe activation of one's Magic Circuits, simple hygiene products, and even hair dye, etc. etc.

Lifestream: Less a style of Magecraft than a specific ritual, the Lifestream is a technique Jacob developed late in his worldly travels, prior to his purge of the Arling clan. First properly utilized during his family's cleansing, the Lifestream channels the ambient magical energy, both from the surrounding land as well as any nearby living beings. Taking the form of wild electricity, the energy will slowly begin to drift towards the spellcaster before quickly gaining speed. It will then start to enter the magus' body as the energy is absorbed to prolong and maintain one's health and vitality.

The usage of this ability is noted to be painful in the extreme, and the first proper activation nearly killed Jacob via what could only be described as a "Magical Overload", leaving him with numerous scars and burns across his body. Though Jacob has perfected the process somewhat, it is still extremely painful to use, and is a stop gap measure at best. While it will certainly slow his aging to a significant degree, it still causes intense stress towards the body, and it will eventually give out, even if physically he will never look older than middle aged at most.

Mystic Codes
Bandersnatch: Jacob's cane. It is crafted from specifically treated steel, and separates into several pieces connected by bronze wiring. By channeling electric magecraft and reinforcement magecraft along the cane Jacob is able to control and direct it's motion in the manner of a whip, capable of smashing through concrete and tearing through flesh.

Non-Magecraft Abilities/Items:
He is surprisingly gifted in the realm of gambling. Be it poker, blackjack, simple games of dice, etc. More often than not he is on the winning end of the bet receiving a hefty payout.

He knows his way around the human body, and as such has considerable knowledge of the medical field. He can be trusted to fix and heal someone of all but the most grievous wounds, and has a vast understanding of mundane drugs and medications.

Trivia

°He enjoys cooking his own meals, while he is no master chef, he is more than capable of preparing and healthy and filling breakfast, lunch, or dinner.
°His favourite meal is a simple breakfast of bacon, sausage, eggs (sunny side up), buttered toast, and light coffee.
°He has several descendants living on the family estate in the forested hills of England. Of all of them, he only truly spoils and dotes on his "great-grandaughter" (farther along than that) Stella, A young girl who favours gardening and animals, though she has little magical potential herself.
°Physically, he appears no older than 15 or 16 years old, in truth, he is 233.

Fate/Iliou Persis

Class: Berserker
Team: Undecided
True Name: Ferdiad

Appearance

Sex: Male
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Attribute: Earth

History

A warrior of Irish Legend, Ferdiad was born in the Kingdom of Connacht, and was one of two students trained by the "Witch of Dun Scaith" Scáthach, alongside Cú Chulainn. The two would become close friends, akin to brothers but would eventually part ways shortly after Cú Chulainn received the Gae Bolg.

During the War between Ulster and Connacht, Ferdiad desired to stay out of the fighting, as he held no desire to cross blade and spear with his Battle Brother Cú Chulainn. However, it was not to be. Queen Medb desired the strongest possible champion to to do battle with the "Child of Light", and brought many threats and bribes against Ferdiad, yet all were refused. It was only when Medb offered to hand of her own beloved daughter, the beautiful Findabair that Ferdiad accepted, having long been enamoured with the gentle princess, and seeking any way to win her heart.

The two friends would meet at a small river and for one last time share of drink and meat before the final duel began. For seven days the battled, brothers in all but blood, they did battle with sword and shield, spear and lance, even drawing forth daggers and their own bare fists. At one point Cú unleashed the full fury of his Riastrad, forcing Ferdiad to bring forth his own Folaigh Iarann to survive. Eventually Fate decided its favoured, and Ferdiad was struck down by the Gae Bolg. Held in his friends arms for a last time, Ferdiad congratulated Cú on his victory, lamenting that they would not be able to face each other again. Ferdiad begged Cú Chulainn to end the war, to become the warrior the land of Éire deserved and that history would remember for eternity. As Cú grieved for his fallen friend, Ferdiad died, passing on with a smile on his face.

"Win, Cú. Put an end to Medb's foolishness and end this conflict. You'll be great my brother, A legend unlike any other, I'm only sorry I won't get to see it in person. So fight on, for Me, for Scáthach, for Yourself. Hahah, Goodbye Setanta, reach the future, for both of us. I'm looking forward...to seeing you again.

Personality

Summoned in the current manifestation, Berserker possesses the personality he held while training under Scáthach. He brash and wild, as quick to laugh as he is to anger. He is carefree and reckless, constantly seeking out strong opponents to test himself against simply for his own enjoyment and fun. He is someone who is always looking to prove his strength, challenging the strongest and most dangerous of adversaries to see how far he has come.

He is not someone who thinks in the long term, always moving from one thought to another, making him appear somewhat scatterbrained and dim, however he is by no means stupid and is surprisingly adept at reading an individuals true nature after a short time interacting with them. Unfortunately he is no diplomat, and many of his solutions for dealing with a problem or someone he doesn't like will often involve violence of some kind.

He tries to live his life as a true Celt, always seeking a battle against the odds, honest to a fault, loyal to his friends and those who've gained his trust and always ready and willing to party and drink.

All in all, he is a lovable fool, someone who will always stand by his friends and allies, never leaving them behind and jumping to their defence at any threat. He won't leave the field until the threat has been defeated, or his team has reached safety, and is always ready to give his life for those who need it.

Parameters
Strength: B >> A (Through Skills and NP)
Agility: C >> B
Endurance: B >> A
Mana: E
Luck: C

Class Skills
Madness Enhancement: EX
The Skill of the Berserker Class, Ferdiad possesses it at a rank difficult to truly determine. For Berserker, the skill manifests as his utter lack of fear and caution against any foe, no matter how strong. Berserker would willingly charge a rampaging dragon, simply for the thrill of it and giving no thought to his own safety or chance of defeat. It is at such a state that he was said to have faced even the Riastrad of Cú Chulainn, A form said to be worthy of the title of the Highest and Most Fearsome Berserker.

At this particular Rank, Berserker is perfectly capable of interacting and having a conversation with other intelligent beings. Berserker receives a Rank-Up to all physical Parameters as a result of the skill, with effect lasting so long as he is in battle.

Personal Skills
Battle Continuation: B
The ability to continue fighting even after receiving Mortal Wounds, while also lowering the mortality rate of any injuries received. At the current Skill Rank, Berserker is not hindered by any wounds he receives in battle, and is able to keep fighting as though he were in perfect condition.
Instinct: B
The ability to instantly identify the best possible course of action in a combat situation. At the current rank Berserker is able to ignore the effects of any visual or audio interference, simply being able to guess where objects and obstacles are located and where they will be moved to during a fight, and is able to naturally recognize when he or others have entered a dangerous situation such as a trap or ambush.
Martial Arts (Celtic): A
A skill demonstrating one's ability in unarmed combat, turning their very body into a living weapon even by the standards of Servants. At the current rank, Berserker qualifies as a master of unarmed Celtic combat, the very force of his bare-handed blows reaching explosive levels, his grips and wrestling becoming an inescapable cage, his limbs becoming as swords and spears of their own.

Noble Phantasm
Folaigh Iarann
(The Iron Flesh Tempered by Blood and Will)
Rank: B+
Type: Anti-Unit (Self)
Range: 0
Target(s): 1
Ferdiad's Thorny Armor of legend that no weapon was said to be able to pierce. When summoned as a Berserker the armor manifests in its sealed state as a set blue Woad tattoos tracing across Berserker's body, running up and down his arms and legs, across his back and torso, and flowing up his neck.

Once activated, the tattoos will begin to shift and writhe across Berserker's body. The Woad will start to shine with ethereal light and expand across the Servant of Madness, magical energy condensing over his form. After a few seconds the glowing "skin" will change from blue to red and begin to disperse, flaking and falling away like the leaves of a tree or the petals of a flower.

Berserker's new form, once revealed, resembles what can be best described as a humanoid nature spirit in the physical world, a dryad shaped masculine rather than feminine.

His body is composed of a human shaped mass of vines, deep bloody red, twisted and threaded together like muscles and tendons. Armor-like plates of bone white wood cover and encapsulate his form, comprised of an almost entirely smooth surface of sharp angles and glowing veins of crimson energy. Jagged, thorn-like spikes of the white wood line his body, tipping his fingers with wicked claws, sprouting from his knuckles, elbows, and knees, lining his forearms and shins, his back and shoulders, and even crowning his head with twisted wooden horns. His face is a featureless mask of bone, lacking both mouth and nose, possessing only two round eye holes and tear tracks carved into the white plate, burning with red light that gives the appearance of one who cries in blood instead of water, while his hair has grown longer and acts like a living mass of glowing vines.

While active, the effects of the Noble Phantasm are as followed: The passive first effect is that any and all damage dealt to Berserker by weapons that are not themselves Noble Phantasms is rendered null and void, with Berserker suffering no harm or injury. If the attack is dealt by weapons that are classified as Noble Phantasms, non-physical energy based attacks such as the magicks used by Casters or the elemental attacks caused by certain Skills and abilities, than the damage received is reduced by half-strength. Attacks dealt by effects such as poison, or weapons/abilities that possess levels of Divinity are capable of bypassing Berserker's protection entirely, rendering the full force of the attack.

The second, active effect is that any damage Berserker does receive while utilizing his armor grants him an equivalent amount of Power that he can then release in his next attack.

While the second effect is not in and of itself a separate Noble Phantasm, he has named it like one, referring to the ability as his "Counter Strike: Full Body".