Turboshitter — Roleplayer Guild

-Day 0-

Castle Urquhart

-9:58 PM September 23rd, 2017

Albert watched in amazement as each circle briefly flared to life, casting a brilliant light across the courtyard that coalesced into tall, imposing figures who only seemed to become more and more solid as the light faded into darkness. They were like shadows, taking form only when the candle's flame dwindled. Shades of their former selves. Of heroes who shone brighter than a thousand of these circles.

He glanced nervously down at his own catalyst. Had he really made the right choice? By and afar, his catalyst was one of the oldest they had in their possession. According to the theory of Mythic Regression, that would make his Servant one of their most powerful by default. Only Olympia's Caster, for he assumed the great inventor could only ever be summoned in such a class, could outdo Claudius when it came to lineage. And besides, he had wanted an emperor, not a warrior. Someone who could unite and lead the team. But...

He glanced at the magnificent, glowing figure that Morgana had called forth. Constantine. Another Roman emperor three hundred years descended from Claudius, lauded as the savior of Christianity. If an emperor was truly what he had desired, could he have not gone with that instead? This man looked as though he could fight and lead, and do both well. Claudius' age would not matter a single squirt if his Servant was incompetent and could not fight. Could a man like Claudius even be a Heroic Spirit? When compared to these shining figures-

Albert balked at the gaudy monstrosity of a man that Sonja had summoned. The man was literally shining. In fact, he more than any other Servant he'd seen here could be described as the pure embodiment of legend and heroic fantasy. Gold adorned practically every inch of the massive beast, making him rich as a king, and his modern attire made him look as though he belonged on the deck of a yacht surrounded by rich, young socialites rather than a blood-soaked battlefield. The gorgeous creature was a vision of radiance, perfect in every way.

How could he possibly compete with this?! If he summoned some jerky, cerebral palsy-ass lookin' motherfucker to the fight, he'd look like the Ugly Duckling and the tortoise from Tortoise and the Hare got together and gave stillbirth to some unnatural mutant vortex of pure failure! He'd be playing second-fiddle in his own master plan! Hardly the glorious victory he'd imagined. Professor Ayondale would likely die laughing before he could get his revenge for-

He slapped his cheeks and took a deep breath, letting it sit heavily in his lungs for a few seconds before exhaling.

Get it togezer, man. You are a Prelati, for Christ's sake! It doesn't matter what Servant you summon, you cannot back down now! Qui n’avance pas, recule! Let zem laugh if zey wish! Zey 'ave done so your entire life! Why would zey stop now? You do not concern yourself wiz zem! You do not concern yourself wiz ze scorn and ze foul-mouthed abuse of zose who refuse to understand! You will summon your Servant 'ere today, and you will show zat whoreson Arieh zat you are a force to be reckoned wiz ze same way you've shown everyone else! Ze 'ard way.

He gritted his teeth, steadying himself. That bastard son-of-a-bitch would regret the day he crossed him. Nobody made a fool and a puppet out of Albert Prelati.

Placing the paludamentum in the center of the circle, he decided for himself the words he would use to summon the emperor.

Silver and iron to the essence.
Stone to the foundation, and the archmage of contracts.
In my disgraced ancestor's name, hear me.

Let the winds descend as a wall.
Let the gates in the four cardinal directions fall shut, and rise above the crown.
Let the three-forked road to the kingdom spin.

Fill. Fill. Fill. Fill. Full.
The sigils are anointed. Repeat five times and destroy each when full.

Let it be known today.
Your body will become my sword.
Your sword will become my destiny.
If you submit to the call of the Holy Grail, if my cause is righteous and just, then obey my will and reason.
Answer me!

Here is my oath: I swear,
That I shall embody all good in the world
That I shall cleanse all evil in the world

Thy denizen of the seventh Heaven, clad in the three words of power, break free of thy ring of restraint and come forth! Oh keeper of the balance!

Infinite nothingness that was all that Locusta saw in her infinitely black abyss. It was safer then the roman empire after Nero's passing she could grant it that much. Honestly she couldn't concieve what she did wrong. All she did was kill a few people. People die all the time! She was just expediting the process. Locusta furrowed what she perceived to be her brow. As she began her recitement of poisons from the top because if this was her personal hell she might as well keep working on her jingle.

"♫♪♫♪~Cyanide, Mercury, Basilisk, Mamba." She began her voice cracking slightly so it sounded rather obnoxious. "Poisons are all I know." She quickened her voice in order to sound like a presenter. "So come one and come all because..." she paused for a moment to build imaginary suspense "We have... Manticore, Widow, many ways to end a life, so come on guys don't use a knife! Poisoning is the way to go~ Hey hey!~♫♪♫♪"

She tossed that concept aside in the deeper recesses as she began to think again. Honestly she wasn't a songwriter she was a A class Poisoner. This was like the 300th time she had thought about song writing, She was certainly doing better then anything else. Who knew dying stretched time to the point of near infinite.

Then suddenly everything went black...

Locusta blinked, she could have sworn that she was just a moment ago positively, undeniably and undoubtedly dead and yet here she was standing in the middle of some arcane summoning circle wearing her favourite outfit. She paused for a moment as she processed it all. It's been about 2000 years since shes been dead... Throne of Heros...

Wait!

Someone actually summoned her!? Locusta quickly turned to see her would be Master as she looked him up and down with her eyes like some mad crazed dog. He was short. He was unimpressive. He looked like he was a child. "Adorable little thing aren't you." She said giving the kid a reassuring smile. He was probably lost and had accidentally wondered into this mess and now he was gonna get himself all killed. Not on her watch! She strode with a bubbly waltz as if she was either drunk or slightly deranged. "Weedy arms, terrible fasion sense, I mean where is your toga. Yup, your a mage. Good to meet you Master, I am..." She paused for a moment checking that everything was in order. "I am the class of Assassin which makes sense you know, I mean it is what I do for a living." She laughed before she paused to slapped her cheeks gently to reaffirm herself. 'Stupid Locusta, your scaring the kid.' she thought. "I'm sorry for being talkative I was just cramped in nothingness for so long and now I am alive again and there are so many wonderful wonderful new things that I've never knew would come to exist. Like metal flying birds called planes! PLANES! Not as cool as some of the stuff I've seen but cool, Master I want to crash a plane." She said pausing to take a breath. 

Then Locusta paused as she realised this wasn't a typical summoning the 6 other classes were already present and she was acting like a right giddy fool which was terrible for business! "Oh by the gods." She mumbled as she composed herself, the concept of a bubbly ADHD girl vanishing into thin air as if it never occured. "So. Master. What undertaking are we going to do." She said her voice absent of any feeling as she finished tying her hair with a lace from her outfit. She seemed like an entirely different person. Her eyes truely cold and unfeeling, like a killer who knew killing like a mother knew her kids. Her green eyes stared narrowly at everyone, the murderous intent was obvious, though her Master could probably catch the slight wink she gave him if he was fast enough.

As the smoke cleared, Albert got a good look at just what kind of Servant he'd summoned. And then another. And then another. And then he promptly kept looking until his brain stopped refusing to acknowledge what it was he saw. 

"Breasts...?" he said dumbly, looking the woman up and down. "Don quoi?"

He had... so many questions.

Quickly realizing the absurdity of what he'd just said in front of a Heroic Spirit, and possibly a Roman emperor at that ("when you have eliminated the impossible" etc.), Albert cleared his throat and tried again. 

"Yes, zat is me. I am your Master... Assassin, was it? Not quite what I'd planned..." he said under his breath. Noticing the way she stared at the other students, he addressed her calmly and said, "Zey are not our enemy. For now at least. I fully intend for us to fight, but we must be civil about zis. Lower... whatever your weapons are. I'll explain everyzing in a moment."

And 'ave you explain a few zings to me, he thought. His mind quickly refocused.

Lancer.

Berserker.

Caster.

Archer.

Rider.

And now... Assassin.

He furtively glanced up at his own Servant, consumed by his thoughts. They had summoned six so far. That left Saber. And Leon. He turned to his friend of three years and smiled congratulatorily. 

"Well my friend, it looks like I drew ze shorter straw zis time. Ze 'onor of summoning Saber falls to you. All's ze better, really. Personally, I don't zink I'd be cut out for dealing wiz ze chivalrous types."

Albert placed a hand on Leon's shoulder.

"You deserve it, my friend. I really zink you do. I can't imagine trusting anyone else wiz zat kind of power. Besides myself of course," he said, smiling wryly. "Now go on. Ze crowd is waiting~"

True to his word, the rest of the students had caught on to what had just happened, and had begun crowding around him to watch the final summoning, offering words of praise, encouragment and congratulations. The summoning of Saber was no small thing. It was only natural for the Master summoning the war's most powerful Servant to receive some fanfare. 

Albert smiled. Plus it was fun watching Leon squirm sometimes.

Leon looked around at the other Servants. He was amazed at the fact that this was a thing. So far little had happened in the way of interaction. Leon tried to look at them but he knew that what little time he had left. He had to summon his servant...given the remaining options he believed he only had one option left...Saber. He felt a sudden pressure...according to the research he managed to uncover...wasn't Saber supposed to be the most important piece in a holy war? Come to think of it...what was their end game after this little revenge scheme? A holy war needed to be done once summoned were they just going to have all these poor souls murder each other immediately after their dirty work was done? This whole war suddenly became more repugnant the more Leon though about it. He advocated clean, and honest fights not bloody warfare. Good thing he got the piece least suited for the assassin class in this whole bargain. Leon looked at his circle and noticed however as he held up his hand in front of it...that it wasn't done right. A few hastily made lines were out of place. Leon growled. He considered using his wind magic to fix it quickly but that would waste time if he botched the whole thing.

Instead, in front of everyone, Leon went forward and on his hands and knees quickly began to rearrange his circle with his hands. Using his hands to rearrange the silver dust he had used to make the circle, and using what was left of it in his pouch to finish the circle once more. Leon managed to do it easily enough. One who had started learning the art of combative mage craft from his elders would easily be able to spot errors in their technique, and modify it. Changing a semi-complicated summoning circle wasn't Leon's common practice but it certainly was a small issue in comparison to what he had done before. Leon got up, his clothes slightly dirtier now, as he raised up his hand. Leon fought, and conquered the raging unease inside of him. He couldn't make a fool of himself, and he couldn't make an mockery of the Winchester Family in front of legendary heroes. 

As the circle flared up Leon stood there proudly in front of the thing. He felt his magic tingle in response to his successful work. He breathed in calmly, and slowly. With the ease of a trained professional Leon began his ritual.

"Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation."

He began to say his words aloud, and clearly he pushed the pressure to the back of his mind. He couldn't think of what would happen next, or in the future. He needed to concentrate in this moment. Too do anything otherwise could be fatal, or risk further errors in the summoning.

"Let the heroes of old hear my call for war is coming. Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall."

Leon said with more intensity as he held his hand aloft his clothes fluttering in the wind. His pride as a mage radiating from his voice, and his inner fortitude to win coming forth. If he was to be a master he would give it his all. His partner would know he would not back down. 

"Let the four cardinal gates close. Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate."

Leon called out further as he used his left hand to clasp his right holding onto it tightly. Leon was now sure he had succeeded as the light spiraled around the circle around the piece of the round table. He no longer harbored any doubts. Even if he had to fight these other heroes, heroes of insane legends, he would do so. He would not disgrace anyone here.

"Let it be filled. Again. Again. Again. Again. Let it be filled fivefold for every turn, simply breaking asunder with every filling."

Leon called out loudly as he uttered the last part of the incantation he held stalwart in his mind.

"An oath shall be sworn here! I shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven. I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell! – From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power, come forth from the ring of restraint, Protector of the Balance!"

Leon called out fiercely his utter confidence showing itself he would not be a paper lion! He would stand ready for all of this! No matter what may come he would do his family proud! He would make his own legend!

....

Or at least that's what Leon thought as suddenly the spiralling magic died...it flickered...and nothing happened. Leon growled in defiance. He would not be denied if he had come this far!

"An oath shall be sworn here! I shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven. I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell! – From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power, come forth from the ring of restraint, Protector of the Balance!"

Leon called out once more but in that one moment...all his hopes were dashed...Leon saw his magic fail. It faded, and fizzled, and died out right in front of him. There was no glorious celebration. No light. There was no servant to come to his call. Leon's heart didn't drop...but his pride...it was all worthless it seemed. Leon wasn't angry that he had failed...he was disappointed...and ashamed in himself...he wasn't worthy. Leon dropped to his knees in front of the circle. In front of all the other mages. His eyes stared blankly in front of him for a moment. And when the full weight of what had happened came crushing down on Leon...he knew what had happened. There was only two explanations...one was that the piece was fake...and that the catalyst was objectively worthless...or that the grail had decided he was not worthy. Leon knew then and there that Albert wouldn't screw him like this...would he? No it was likely Ayondale had foresaw all of this...no that wasn't equally as damning as believing Albert would do this. The grail must have rejected him. "No....no...am I..." Leon paid no attention to anything around him as he looked onto his hands...and found himself searching for where his own ineptitude had come from...

"Am...Am I really that worthless?" Leon mumbled quietly to himself. There were no tears, nor were there any lamentations of his own failure. Leon's only fault...it lied with him. The Grail, Arthur's knights, and everything around him...had looked into the bottom of his soul and found him a failure unworthy of it. A fool who tried to play at powers to big for him. He shouldn't have come. The only solace Leon felt in this moment, if it even was a solace, was that for him this whole endeavor was over...he would return home to America. His parents wouldn't sell him out to the clocktower, and the Mage's Association for this. At least there he could contemplate how his failure would be rectified in the future...or would he continue to shame himself in the future just like he had now?

Albert watched the circle ignite with no small level of satisfaction and pride. They'd done it. They'd actually done it. They'd ruined their professor's precious fake Holy Grail War. Suck it Ayondale, you obnoxious, plagiarizing prick! You ass-kissing aristocrat! You cheap, lying, no-good, rotten, four-flushing, low-life, snake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred, overstuffed, ignorant... blood-sucking...

Something was wrong. A sharp *zap!* like the crackle of a burnt-out lightbulb struck out across the grounds from inside Leon's circle. The mist around him faded to nothing, the building energy disappating.

What? Albert thought as his mind instinctively kicked into overdrive. He activated his Memory Partition, immediately descending into full-blown problem-solving mode.

229/250

The circle had failed. The summoning had failed. Why had the summoning failed?! The catalyst? No. They'd verified it themselves. Even then, the ritual did not necessarily need a catalyst to summon a Servant. It was just a crapshoot without one. The circle or its ingredients? Possibly, given Leon's last-minute alterations to the design, but that should only cause, at worst, deviations to appear in your Servant's appearance or skills. The ritual itself was fairly foolproof in its design. So long as the Holy Grail had acknowledged or chosen you as a Master, it always summoned a Servant. The incantation then? See above.

Everything had been perfect! The circles, the ingredients, the catalysts, the incantations... was it a problem with Leon himself then?

Then it hit home, the force of the realization blindsiding him. Leon couldn't summon Saber if somebody else had done so already...

Oh merde.

It was about this time that Sonja's familiars started to go unexpectedly dark. The three separate rooms running parallel in Albert's mind collapsed into one cohesive cognition as his accelerated sense of time seemed to slow his body to the speed of a snail crawling through mollasses. His perception slowly returning to real-time, Albert's head turned degree by agonizing degree to face the crowd as his eyes darted to the treeline to check and see if they were there. Good lord, he could already see their eyes! They had been right there.

And they'd never seen it coming.

"DISPERSE!"

The tranquiline treeline burst into frenetic, active life, a hundred spells cast out of the forest with such fury that their cover seemed to erupt like an active volcano, revealing nearly a hundred elite magi. And Arieh Ayondale. Standing next to a towering man wielding a brilliant flambard.

"Ah yes, there you are," Ayondale said, though his words could reach none of their ears. "My precious students~"

Albert focused on him, panic and fury clouding his mind. 

"Assassin!" he yelled, calling her to his aid. He would not die here.

The spells' fury continued. Gandr, air cannons, strokes of lightning and dark masses of wicked curses. Fireballs, flames, pressurized water cutters, then earthen shrapnel followed by clay bullets. Familiars who dashed across the open grounds assuming forms of all kinds, some crashing into their targets like bullets while others mauled and strangled. It was a slaughter. A scene befitting the word "battlezone" that unfolded in an instant, claiming the lives of students left and right. They fell like baby birds crashing down from the sky, their blood tinting the moonlit grass a vibrant red.

Two of their classmates died in the first few seconds. Sixteen more followed in the moments that came after. The assault, lasting only seconds, never seemed to cease, spells being cast with little delay between incantation and action as high-speed words and single-action curses poured out of the mages' mouths like a vile liquid. Screams dominated the quiet sounds of the night. The only ones who survived... the only ones who could survive... were the Masters. The rest were all dead.

Atop the hill, surrounded by his meticulously groomed strike force, Arieh Ayondale surveyed the carnage below, his eyes critical. He sighed as he assessed the damage, both to the castle walls and the students. They had each been destroyed utterly, but neither completely. Not quite.

"As expected, those thieving rats survived," he said, tsk-tsking as he took in the speed, power and defensive capabilities shown by the Servants the children had called forth using his catalysts. "Richard, go take care of them for me, will you?"

The man standing at his right wore a magnificent cape and fur coat, his sword gleaming in the light of the Highland moon. He turned to face Ayondale, kingly clothes ruffling, then made a small bow with his hand over his heart, smiling as he did so. 

"In life, I was born of a rank that recognized no superior but God," he said with a deep, syrupy smooth voice that had just the merest hint of a French accent. "In this Holy Grail War, however? I am your faithful Servant. Ask of me what you will, Arieh. I will complete each task without fail."

He smiled somewhat mischievously.

"Although it might be difficult for me to defeat all of them right now, I think."

Arieh snorted, sharing the smile.

"You may drive them off. That much will do for now. We only need them out of our way."

The smile of the man named Richard morphed into a predatory leer, his white teeth gleaming fangs that looked far too much like a lion's. He drew his undulating sword, appreciating its shape and size with quiet solemnity before lowering it, and stepping out onto the blood-soaked battlefield.

"As you command then."
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