Turboshitter — Roleplayer Guild

-Day 0-

The Deacon Arms Tavern

-11:37-11:55 PM September 23rd, 2017

The young Frenchman, now thoroughly spooked despite his earlier objections, marveled at Assassin's ability to rapidly switch between moods like a homicidal drinking bird. Hot and then cold, dry and then wet, bubbly and airheaded then marvelously murderous. If he wasn't convinced before, he sure as hell was now. Either Assassin had some serious ADHD, or she was straight up manic-depressive. Not like he hadn't said some hurtful things of his own with the typical bluntness of a hammer blow that he was so accustomed to, but still...

Jesus, Marie, Joseph...

Seeing that she'd shifted back into manic after that brief but frightening episode, Albert took her proffered hand, hoping he was in the clear. Alright, assuming he wasn't about to have his throat cut open in the middle of the night, this mishap had taught him a few valuable lessons. The first of those of course being his Servant's true identity, and the fact that she did not appreciate it being mistaken. Knowing now that she was the fabled Locusta of Gaul, he'd have to remember to tread carefully when discussing her past living in the Roman Empire. 

And Nero... where did she stand on Nero? That was another minefield of a topic for conversation. History reviled Nero, and had only just recently come around to the idea that the emperor might have been mentally ill rather than an evil to succeed Caligula. Yet they had shown remarkable mercy and even fondness for Locusta the Poisoner, going so far as to pardon her of her crimes after Agrippina's death and arrange a place for her in the Roman high nobility as Imperial Poisoner. A state-sanctioned assassin and career-killer turned noblewoman... his Servant was an interesting one, that was for certain. However it remained to be seen if "interesting" was in his best interests.

She seemed nice enough though, at least when he wasn't saying something stupid to piss her off. That was a mistake he'd be sure not to make again. Assassins that deviated from the normal Hassans could tend to be wildcards, possessing a variety of quirks and subtle motivations endemic to those who would kill for money or personal gain... or for fun. Getting to know her better and handling her with care were two things he'd need to do if he expected to utilize her skills properly during this Holy Grail War and still survive once the dust had settled.

Growing accustomed to Locusta's presence even in his state of undress, Albert tried calming himself as he climbed out of the tub. Briefly he activated his problem-solving mode, thinking long and hard about how best to apologize. Eventually he collapsed his state of high concentration. Direct approach was probably best with Assassin's personality.

"Do not fret, ma chère. I would not so easily forget ze kindness of anyone willing to 'elp me avenge myself upon zat bastard of a teacher, or someone who 'as already saved my life more zan once. You 'ave my zanks. And... I apologize if I offended you. I did not realize to whom I was speaking. Perhaps if I 'ad been a bit more prepared-"

The bodies. He could see the bodies everywhere. Watching. Waiting.

"-zen we could 'ave avoided all zis," he said, perhaps with a bit more emotion than even he intended. He needed to forget. For his sake, for their sake, for everyone's sake he needed to forget. This was only day one. Yet somehow, he found himself doubting it would be that easy. 

"... Perhaps," he said after a moment of silence, "I am being a bit presumptuous, but... could you teach me, ma chère? Teach me 'ow to kill? You Heroic Spirits always seem to be so brave, even when you're out zere fighting and risking your lives. I doubt I could ever 'ave zat much courage, but at least... could you teach me 'ow to kill my doubts inside my 'ead?"

He tightened his grip. It seemed at some point he'd taken her hand without realizing it.

"Zese kids do not need a leader. Zey 'ave Leon for zat, whezer or not any of zem realize it yet. I don't zink even 'e does, but 'e will. What zey need is a grand vizier, a villain who can make all ze 'ard choices a leader cannot. If I can't be courageous or fight on ze front lines, zen I should at least be able to do zat much. Let me be zat necessary evil who does everyzing for Leon zat Leon cannot. Someone 'as to... it may as well be me."

Realizing just a little too late how ridiculous he looked making such a request of a professional assassin while dripping wet and dressed in nothing but a towel, Albert jerked his hand back, perhaps a bit quicker than he'd meant to, and turned his back to Locusta. He set about drying himself with renewed vigor and extreme gusto, utterly determined to put some pants on and right his earlier mistake. It marveled him how nonchalant she could be just getting up close and personal with him like that. Were Romans really like that in their public bathhouses? Perhaps. 

Realizing at some point he'd have to take his towel off to put on his pants, Albert slowly turned to Locusta.

"Can you... perhaps... look ze ozer way? Just for a second?" he asked sheepishly. "Zis is not quite 'ow I imagined my first time getting naked in front of a woman would go."

And there was that infamous French charm, just oozing with charisma. For the son of a whore, he still got rather flustered when he was on the receiving end of situations like these.

Having finally tucked in his shirt and donned a new pair of pants, Albert headed down to the bar, where it seemed everyone else had decided to gather. Good. That would make this easier. First, however, he had something he needed to discuss with Leon privately. Where was he-...

Albert couldn't help catching quite the eyeful as he watched Leon play drunken tongue-wrestling with Rider of all people, and get quite into it at that. The man had more hair on his chest than he'd given him credit for. Made his earlier performance look downright disgraceful. 

"Leon, you dog," he said with a broad grin as he descended the stairs, slow-clapping sarcastically all the way. "I never knew you 'ad it in you. Not even an 'our goes by and you've already managed to seduce one of our teammates. And a Servant, no less! You'd make a better Frenchman zan even me, it seems. Good job!"

He clasped his friend on the shoulder, obviously aware of how embarrassed and taken aback Leon was by the whole thing.

Leon was wondering how long it would take for Uncle Collins to get tired of him, and go pass out for the night. His eyes were heavy now and he seemed to be breathing a bit more slowly showing that he was getting tired. Leon himself was getting there himself. However when Albert came up to him, also somewhat expected, he brought up the fact that he just put his best effort into making Rider his for the night. Leon hid his face in his hands and grumbled to himself for a second to hide the fact the fact that he was still blushing rather hard about the matter. Collins patted him on the back. "I-I didn't do it on purpose! Well not the part that led up to that kiss. There's something about Rider that made me take it as far as I did though...not that I wouldn't not want to go a round with Rider...even with her weird accent." Leon said trying to bring up as much dignity as he could, not that there was much. "You're lucky kid. Not everyone would cross the clocktower's teachers. Lucky for me I have more than enough experience dealing with them fucks." Collins suddenly cut in as Leon took a look over to his uncle. Leon sighed, "He already knows your name, I told him pretty much everything up until a moment ago, this is my great uncle Collins. Ex-explorer, alchemist, and marksman. One of the most talented people I know...and the person who is taking us in for the night. He's agreed to give us food, and shelter for the night. He won't rat us out...he hates people like that."  Leon said with a second doubt in his mind. He spoke with a calm confidence, still somewhat shaken though due to the aforementioned incident. "Authority, and everything that goes with it can go suck the biggest, fattest, blackest, dick in the world. I never got why people liked it so much...even less when...it's something like that." Collins said as he pointed at Albert's hand. "But just because I don't like what you just did with your lives doesn't mean I will hold it against you for now. Name's Mason O'brian Collins. Maybe you've heard of me. Maybe not. I don't care either way. If you gotta call me something Collins is fine. Mason makes me sound too serious.
 Mister Collins is acceptable considering my dad, and brothers aren't here anymore." Collins continued but he didn't reach out a hand to Albert. Merely sat there looking at him with disinterest.

"Uh huhhhh..." Albert said warily as the drunk Irishman declined to so much as shake his hand. "Well, I zank you for your 'ospitality, Monsieur Collins. Zere weren't many places we could 'ave gone tonight. Not wiz zings turning out ze way zey did..."

Dropping the subject, for he no longer wished to speak of it this night, Albert looked back up at Leon.

"Can we talk? Alone, preferably? Zere is somezing I wish you to know before you start getting all broody on me again. Zough perhaps you 'ave Rider to see to zose needs now, non?"

He grinned devilishly from ear to ear in an uncanny way before relinquishing the attempt at forced levity entirely. Something, it seemed, was afoot in Inverness.

"Come wiz me," Albert said, and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Zere's been a bit of a... development. We'll want to discuss zis alone for ze time being. It... concerns you in particular."

Without saying much else, Albert walked nonchalantly over to the non-smoking area of the bar.

"Alright Frenchie have it your way. Just remember this is my side of town. Don't fuck me, and I won't fuck with you." Collins stated calmly as suddenly the man known as Harry came up to him and whispered something to Collins. "Of fucking course why wouldn't that be a problem...Whatever just let's handle this quick." Collins grumbled as he was led away by the younger man leaving Leon to Albert and his own devices. Leon wasn't sure he liked where this was going exactly. He eyed Albert for a moment before sighing, "She's drunk right now so that probably helped with that Albert. Not that things could go worse than they did tonight so I'm not judging anyone." Leon said as he sighed and put Collin's coat on the seat behind him before hurrying off to meet Albert's demand for a private audience away from everyone else. "I would much rather not start something with Rider. As pretty as she is they aren't my servant. In fact the grail made it clear that fuck who was 'teaching' us was much more of a suitable master than me." Leon said as he looked down at his blank hand. It held no command seals and he had only himself to blame for that. Leon looked down at the door that headed down towards the basement, "We can go down there and talk. Uncle Collins told me that the only things down there are liquor, and boxes. Said if shit hit the fan we could probably get away with keeping a person, or two down there. Just not to go snooping around in the other rooms if we could help it. He keeps private stuff down there." Leon continued briskly as Albert led them away. 

Albert followed Leon's advice and opened the creaky old door leading down into the basement. He looked into the darkness with trepidation, trying to think of what words he might use to convince Leon.

"Assassin," he said, deep in thought, "guard ze door. I'll be back in a minute."

With that, he descended, Leon close behind. The door shut behind them, pushed by an invisible hand.

Coughing from the sheer amount of dust that had been allowed to build up over the years which was just now being disturbed, Albert uncomfortably cleared some space on the floor for them to talk. He sat down on a box, its label obscured by yet more dust.

"Yes, well," he hacked. "Zat was sort of what I wished to talk to you about. I can't stand it down 'ere, so I'll be blunt. I zink zere may still be a chance for you to summon Saber."

He waited patiently for the obligatory remarks of "What?!" and "You're crazy!" 

Leon sighed audibly as he crossed his arms, and tried his best to resist slamming his hand against his head. "The rules were clear: 6 servants. Saber, Archer, Lancer. The three knights. Berserker, Rider, Assassin, and Caster rounded out the remaining servants. Leon reminded Albert. "No more, no less. Must I remind you that I was rejected the first time?" Leon stated as he looked around the place and found some more switches which he turned on and allowed the lights to come on exposing the rather tightly compacted area. He also saw some other stuff laying around such as alchemist tools, and ingredients. The rest of the stuff was probably located somewhere in the next few rooms. "I don't see why you want to bring this up here by ourselves. It's pointless. I can't summon Saber no more than I could summon Berserker, or Lancer. The system won't allow it more than it would allow anything else. The grail is a fickle piece of metal that won't just let anyone break it's rules. It has seven servants why on Earth would it allow another Saber Albert?" Leon said exasperated he hoped he wouldn't need to explain this to Albert of all people. "But you're smart. Smarter than most of our comrades here even if you sound funny sometimes. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and let you explain your hypothesis...assuming you have one." Leon stated calmly. He fidgeted his hand inside of his pocket where he was keeping his old catalyst the piece of the round table. He had put it there when he had arrived. It felt heavier now knowing that it was potentially useless as anything more than a paper weight at a museum. 

And there it was. Even Leon, who'd known him longer than most, was still prone to saying such things around him. It was okay. It hadn't taken him long to grow accustomed to it at the Clocktower. At least this time it seemed like his detractor would be willing to listen. 

"Yes, well," he began confidently. "Zat would 'ave normally been ze case, yes. But not zis time."

From his pocket he procured what looked like a gangrenous one-eyed, one-horned flying purple people-eater, and placed it gently on the ground before him. The bloated little pustule blinked at them with a hundred glassy black eyes that dipped in and out of its amorphous mass like fishing lures floating on the water's surface, then crooned with a croakish mew. Definitely one of Albert's pets.

"Mon petit raisin, could you be so kind as to show Leon what I am about to show you? Yes, zat's a good boy~" Albert cooed, scratching behind its... ears? Did it have ears? before quietly sitting back and closing his eyes. 

The little horn at the top of the creature's head opened up, releasing a thousand tiny young which squeaked and squiggled like malevolent question marks come to life as they fled into the comforting darkness of the stairwell. The puckered aperture then belched a thick, foul-smelling gas that seemed to buzz and pulsate with a multitude of rainbow colors that glowed within the cloud like the lure of a deep sea angler. It covered them like a blanket, filling the room with its all-consuming foulness. 

Albert did not seem particularly bothered by it, but he imagined the experience would be rather... novel for Leon, who had never been shown this particular species of Horror. It was a relatively new and delightful little discovery of Albert's, a creature he had tentatively given the name "lurecumber". Like a sea cucumber, except when it eviscerated its digestive organs out its anus, it released a noxious cloud of bioluminiscent ink to distract predators and lure in prey. Depending on the situation, it would then either flee and regrow its intestines once it had found shelter, or it would viciously consume both its prey and its now-sentient organs, which by then would have constricted around its prey and begun to bite.

Using magecraft, he had trained this one to be a projector for familiars and home movies. How fun!

"I had one of my pets record zis shortly after we fled ze scene," he explained, the cloud morphing into images seen by a small, stalkish eye. 

The sensory apparatus had belonged to the Horror that had sacrificed itself attacking Ayondale. Albert had secretly given it the order to detach one of its arms and leave it in the burrow to spy on Richard and the professor after they were gone. The images, still ones at first, became moving pictures, then a full approximation of video, detailing Ayondale's execution of his comrades and his trip out on the loch. From where the eye cam was situated, all that could be seen was a very bright light with Ayondale's silhouette in the middle of it, and very little of what was being said, if indeed anything was, could be heard.

"You see zat? Yes... it's exactly what you zink it is. Zat's ze 'Oly Grail. Ze Greater Grail, to be precise. Ze main body of ze divine wish-granting engine. Zat cheating mozerfucker 'as buried it at ze bottom of Loch Ness, where no one will be able to reach it except 'im. But zat isn't ze interesting part."

Speeding up the recording with a command to his squamous Barney tumor, Albert arrived at a segment in which Ayondale's voice could be heard. The cloud seemed to vibrate as it attempted to "transmit" it through its gaseous medium, resulting in the sound being distorted by the low hum of old-school television static. Even so, Ayondale could still clearly be heard talking to someone.

'This is Ayondale. Are *bzzzt* on standby? Yes, the *bzzzzt* was *bzzzzt*. You may now *bzzzt*. Summon *bzzzt* Servants *bzzzt*, and meet me *bzzzzzt* by sunrise. I expect you all to be punctual. That includes you, *bzzzt*. Ayondale out.'

The message concluded and the recording over, the cloud receded, revealing no trace of the bioluminescent particles or the worms which had crawled out of the creature's stomach (worms which just so happened to be its stomach). The basement was barren and empty. The message had been "deleted".

"You 'eard 'im. While I can't be sure as to ze exact contents of zat message, 'e was clearly commanding someone to 'summon Servants'. I don't know 'ow, but somehow it seems like Ayondale 'as managed to modify ze Grail systems. 'E's added new rules. Now zis is just a guess, but don't you zink zat if whatever 'e did out zere on ze loch allowed 'im to summon more Servants, it would do ze same for us? I mean it's worth a try. What's ze worst zat could 'appen? If I'm wrong, all you'll get is rejected again. Big whoop. But if I'm right, maybe you can still summon Saber. Zat would let us even ze odds, or even tip zem in our favor. If we can summon a knight of ze Round Table, zeir fame 'ere in ze UK could match even zat of Ayondale's Saber. You know 'e's Richard ze Lionheart, right?"

Albert paused. It was a solid plan. At least he thought so. They weren't done for yet. If they could pull this off, they could turn the tables on Ayondale one last time, then flip them right into his stupid, stupid face. He hoped...

Question was, did Leon still have the catalyst, and moreover the will necessary to summon Saber now that he'd been rejected once already?

"Alright explain." Leon stated calmly as Albert brought out one of his pets from his pocket. Leon could only fathom what kind of monstrosity this thing was. Maybe it ate children. Maybe it bred asexually. Maybe it was one of the three things that could survive Pompey's eruption. Leon by habit immediately decided he wanted nothing to do with that smell and cast wind manipulation around his nose to prevent the thing from gagging him. The things Albert usually carried around were disgusting creatures. His father scoffed at the use of such things but Albert was quite adept at it. Everyone had their own special abilities in mage now of days. Leon was the most talented wind magi among the group. Albert got to carry around creatures Shrek would find repulsive. It was mutually exclusive now of days. He was still quite bothered by it when it though when it unleashed it foul odor into the air causing replication of some sort of event that had occurred by the lake. Leon counted himself lucky that he had cast his wind spell.

"I wonder do you ever get tired of turning living animals into some sort of magical device? What next a talking sea turtle with an Austrian accent the quotes terminator?" Leon questioned Albert sarcastically as he watched the scene unfold. Leon cringed though when he remembered how fast he was to turn coward. How fast he was to ditch when he was under threat. He believed he had good reason to, especially at the time, but it still hurt his pride as a mage. "But I must congratulate you on your quick thinking Albert good work." Leon said with a nod at his ex-roommate. 

When Ayondale's voice came to his ears Leon was reminded of his extreme distaste for the man. Disregarding Leon as a dime a dozen mage, dismissing his father as an upstart mage, and treating him like some back water bastard child just because he was from America. All these things together made Leon loathe the man. Maybe it was petty but Leon was proud of his heritage, and proud of his ability to completely disregard all of that was to make him lower than the low. Leon wouldn't stand for that.

"So what? We just expect I summon a top class servant? What if I summon Percival? or Bors? Two of the weaker knights? What if I summon Lancelot? Can we risk someone like that appearing as anything other than Saber? Could I even handle King fucking Arthur if he appeared in front of me. Could I sustain someone like him, or Gawain in Britain? Top class, or not as a mage I may be of quality but as a master the grail may have already said it's words on me. I could also potentially summon a berserker, or a lancer. Then what would happen? We can't have two can we?" Leon said somewhat angrily as he held his hands out in front of him. He turned his back to Albert and pressed himself against the wall with his hands out forward. "Why is it even me you want? What makes me so god damn special? Just because I was your roommate? That I happen to hurt people a little better than the average mage?!" Leon smacked his hands against the stone wall of the basement. 

"The exact reason I rebelled against the clocktower is because I refused to accept their authority! To use me, and others as tools!" Leon told Albert as he laughed a bit sardonically at himself. "And just look at me now. A coward who dodged at the first chance to fight an enemy servant. Hiding in his great uncle's basement wondering if he has any place in the world. Holy shit maybe Ayondale was right I am rather pathetic aren't I? Can't summon a hero, can't handle my first real fight in ages, and I'm hiding like 
a rat in the rough. Dad would be so damn proud of me wouldn't he?" Leon berated himself angrily as he tried to calm his anger down breathing in calmly he clasped his hands on his head. "I shouldn't give up but the reasonable half of me is telling me that I should go back to America. At least there I can fuck up less."

Despairingly, Albert cradled his head in his hands, groaning as he absorbed what Leon had just said to him. He had. He had just said that. My God. 

Albert half-groaned, half-roared with blind frustration and anger towards his friend. He was... was he really? No, he was. He was done. So done. After everything that had happened, after everything he'd said, he was fucking-

He let his arms fall to his sides belatedly, the two limp appendages flapping like a doll's. For a moment he just sat there, staring at the floor, before he sighed and got up, striding straight over to Leon. With the delivery of a swift, whistling backhand to the face, Albert attempted to slap some sense back into Leon, almost like a parent would for a misbehaving child. Jabbing his sharp, bony index finger into Leon's chest before he could finish mentally processing the attack, Albert drove his point home in about as aggressive a tone as Leon would've ever heard him use.

"You want to know why I chose you? You really want to know, you fucking dickhead? Yes, I chose you because of zose zings you just said. It's true, all of it. Zey're good qualities for a Master to 'ave. But ze real reason I chose you, ze real fucking reason I came to you first before anyone else, you self-loathing, self-righteous prick?" he said, voice rising, pounding each accusation in with another jab of his finger. "It's because I trust you to do ze right fucking zing Leon! And to not be as weak as I am! I can't do zis on my own!"

Albert huffed, his voice hoarse with the pain of his sudden screaming. Gesturing to himself now, he continued.

"I mean, did you ever zink I could? Did you zink zat just because I brought us all togezer zat meant zat I could lead zem? I don't 'ave what it takes to be a leader! I am not strong like you are! I am not courageous or handsome like you are! I can't inspire people like you do, I can't intimidate zem like you do! For christ's sake, I am five feet tall!"

The normally calm Albert seemed like he was halfway to hysteria, the stress of the day that he'd tried to control even around Assassin pouring out of him finally like a rampaging flood. His eyes were wide and mad, and desperately pleading. 

"All I can do is read books, zink of sneaky little plans and play games by myself while everyone else goes off and does all ze fighting for me! Do you really zink people would respect zat?" he ranted. "Do you zink zey will ever respect zat? I am ze Lord of ze Squid! I am nozing but a joke to zem, or perhaps some disgusting, unwanted zing to be mocked and cleaned up after! I chose you because I need you for zis, Leon. I cannot lead zem! You must. So, ze first thing you must do if you want to start 'fucking up' less is take zat lump of fucking table, draw a circle around it, and try again."

His shoulders slumped, and finally he seemed to lose the fire in his eyes that had been fueling his hard-edged words. Everything he should've felt before, the fear, the terror, the anger, the sadness, and the desperation that he'd compartmentalized, he'd finally finished processing. Exhausted, breathing heavily and spent of all emotion, he just looked pleadingly at Leon.

"Please. Do not do zis to me now. Don't do it to zem. You'll never be pathetic so long as you try."

Leon felt the slap, and the pain that followed maybe if he cared to avoid it he would have. It wasn't something he couldn't take but it pissed him off something fierce as well. The self inflicted loathing Leon had been smothering all day was replaced by frustration, and anger. Why couldn't Albert freaking understand that he wasn't who he thought he was. A boy who was following in the footsteps of those who came before him. A father of unfathomable talent, a grand father who adventured high, and low. His mother's side of the family was also filled with talented magi. It was a wonder Leon turned out as pathetic as he did. "Do the right things? What kind of god damn matyr do you think I am? I'm a god damn American, and proud of it, but I'm not Davy Crockett, and I'm certainly not George Washington. I'm just me. Leon Winchester. A nobody mage from the backwoods of the midwest." Leon growled out as he backed off from Albert. He looked at him with disdain but sighed, and grabbed his head and ran his hands through his hair. "You shouldn't be ripping yourself apart Albert. That's unfitting for a mage. My grand father once told me: 'A true magi sticks to their guns, never fails to get back up, and never tries to go back on his word.' He's a better man than I could ever be..." Leon said surprisingly calmly as he stood there for a moment longer. 

"Fine....I'll do it. If not for my sake then because I want to throw this mess under the table, and be done with it. One way, or another something changes tonight. More so than just getting my first kiss stolen from a spirit from ancient times. Or our friendship exploding like this. My pride as a mage will not allow me to run. Not again. I have to make a stand and see what that grail thinks of me. At least this one last time." Leon said as he looked around the room. Judging from the fact that it was rather small he looked over to another room. He opened a first door to a wine cellar which he closed, and then moved onto another down from it too a rather square room. It was likely his uncle's study. "Come on...let's get this over with." Leon stated as he walked into the room it was dark but he turned on a ceiling lamp and illuminated the room. A mahogny desk, a few guns scattered around, a few trinkets, some papers, various substances, and a picture on the desk but with half of it burnt off. He recognized the picture as that of his grand father, and Uncle Collins when they were much younger. Leon wondered if this was how his friendship with Albert would end. Unlike that of his fore bearers which went as well as it could've.

Leon looked at the large red carpet on the floor and decided to roll it up quickly. "Give me a second..." Leon said as he rolled the thing up and carefully put if off to the side. Underneath it was a trap door. But enough room was left that it allowed Leon to do as he pleased. But he didn't have enough silver left. He used most of it to do the circle. Leon sighed and decided he'd need to borrow something else from his uncle. He looked around and found some sort of bone meal that would suffice. Leon began to lay out the rough powder on the floor. "If I do this...I do this my way." Leon told Albert firmly as he began to do the circle. This time there was no pressure on him to hurry up. Leon gingerly pulled out the piece of the round table from his pocket, and looked at it. He sighed, and nodded as he placed it down carefully in the middle. Not allowing himself to make mistakes Leon had formed the circle with ease. He walked away from the circle and took his place some distance away from it. Breathing out deeply Leon rolled his arms, and cracked his neck. Leon breathed in deeply as he began his ritual. 

"Let silver, and steel be the essence.
Let stone, and the archduke of contracts be the foundation of our connection.
Let my faith in you be the tribute I pay to your greatness.
Let rise a wall against the destruction that shall come.
Let the four cardinal gates close to open up a new world.
Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate."

Leon began as he held up his right hand, and his left hand over the right side of forearm. He breathed in deeply speaking calmly, and but with frustration leaking out into his voice. He calmly controlled himself as he saw the circle sparkle, somewhat dreadfully considering the material used, and managed to control his breathing. Leon would not allow himself to fail, not here, and not now. He failed once if he didn't give it his all what would he say to Albert exactly? That Leon Winchester was a lying fool? He wasn't.

"Let it be declared now;
your flesh shall serve under me, and my fate shall be with your sword.
Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail.
Answer, if you would submit to this will and this truth."

Leon shouted out proudly as the circle lit up brightly even more so than before. It seemed the thing was responding at the very least. Maybe Albert was right, and this would work? He couldn't let up now Leon didn't let his thoughts cloud his mind though the words were still present in his mind. Though he had added a few alterations to the standard ritual it should still work.

"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."

Leon wasn't satisfied with that though. He was aware that Berserker could add in an extra line...perhaps now he should make his thoughts clear on the matter. To whoever answered his call, if any, what this would come with. His faith in them was already his tribute. But that wasn't enough for him.

"But by my will let this ritual be our blood oath!
For your destiny, and mine be chained together as one!
I shall wield this burden of fate that has ensnared us both, as we both struggle for our new future together forever more!"

Leon said aloud with pride as he felt some wind kick back. Well shit this really was working...

"From the highest Heaven, and from the deepest hell attended to by three great words of power,
come forth from the ring of restraint, protector of the holy balance!" Leon shouted out loudly as he felt the restraint kick back.

====

.....Cold.....well...it wasn't unexpected....the bloody air tasted like copper, and the hole in her gut still felt as painful as it had ever. She stared at the orange sky through the blood dripping down her face. It had been like this for awhile now...for how long? She wasn't sure. The battle was suppose to be a finale. But it wasn't the sort of finale that they wanted. It wasn't what she wanted she deserved better than this. Father...father had failed, and the people had joined her in revolt. She wouldn't have gotten this far if she hadn't been correct. Yet Gawain, and the other still sided with her Father. It was...not unexpected. The round table was always the loudest echo chamber. Always praising father. Blind, and foolish...they all were as they served the greatest king of all right? Conquests, and victories abound. Objects long thought lost recovered. Many adventures were had, and more than a few barbarians were destroyed beneath their feet.

Yet...here she was...for all of her progress she was still inferior it seemed. Time was just an object to her now. What was the point? Not like she could get up anymore. But for this to be the moment she had to relive for an eternity? Well...it could've been better if not for the stench of death. The smell was because of her though. It was just irrelevant now she had gotten too use to it.

She thought about how long it's been since she stood up from this spot. How long it had been since she got a chance to do anything but sit here dying. It was boring. So very boring....But wait...what? She could hear something...a voice? Someone calling out to her? Here? Well...about time...she thought this was all she would get to see for the next eternity. Deciding to try once more she lifted her hand towards the orange dimly lit sky. As a light shown brighter. She could hear the voice more clearly...you know what? Whatever was on the other side of that...was better than this...A title came to her mind one that sounded familiar as it was the weapon she used more often than not. Alright she'd take that name. A excited smile crossed her lips. She chuckled quietly. "About time..." she muttered as the light from the sky engulfed her.

====

Leon stood there for a moment as the room was swept with wind scattered some papers, and some objects here and there but not enough to shake the building. Leon stood there as he looked at his left hand. A symbol was etched into his hand as a red light faded from his hand. A red x was emblazoned there two diamond shaped symbols on top, and on the bottom surrounding the x. Leon could hardly believe it but something more took precedent. A knight sat kneeling on the floor in front of him. The knight was smaller than he expected them to be, and he couldn't read them for one reason or another just yet. "I have been summoned!" The knight said with a bit of excitement in their voice as they stood up. Their sword cackled with red lightning, and a dark blood textured aura. "Thou Art my master whom has summoned me from beyond the withered grasp of time. Reborn as like the moon...as to engage, and slay at your grim desire." the knight said as they looked at Leon who stood firmly in front of them unflinching, and moving...Saber chuckled a bit as suddenly their helmet retracted disjointing and retracting into the armor, and what followed was the blonde hair of a pretty young woman with fierce eyes staring directly at Leon. Her hair fluttered around her for a moment, and her aura was powerful. Anyone with half a brain could tell she was dangerous. "I ask this of you: Are you the one whom calls himself my master?" the knight said as Leon nodded. "Indeed I am." he said without hesitation but he felt the sweat drip from his brow he didn't move to wipe it off. "I ask for your name servant. Would you kindly give it to me so that I may know to whom that I speak?" Leon asked respectfully, and somewhat calmly. The servant slammed their sword forward into the floor and spoke proudly, and loudly. "I am Mordred Pendragon. The one, and true heir to Arthur Pendragon." Saber said as a smile crept across her face. Leon however tried to hide his shock. Of all people he didn't expect this one to heed his summons...the implications..."So master I ask of you...who's first?" Saber said with excitement apparently more than ready to find her first enemy. Leon wasn't sure if what he felt was pride, or fear but he was not going to back down now. The contract was sealed.

Albert watched from afar, slack-jawed with mouth agape. His first reaction had been to yell "I told you so!" in some crude and bro-ish fashion. He felt that after everything that had been said and done today, he deserved that tiny victory at least. But the jubilation had died in his throat when the knight, who was surprisingly a woman, spoke her name aloud.

Mordred Pendragon. The Knight of Treachery.

"... baise moi mor."
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