vFear — Roleplayer Guild

Prince Antoine
Location: Abhainn's ballroom.
Interacting with: Lady Julianna Hardin @HushedWhispers; Lord Aedan Merryn @Pundii.
As Antoine approached the would-be Queen and the lord at her flank, he took a quiet breath in. If he was nervous before, he was certainly more nervous now: with the King of Abhainn the stars had more or less aligned, and he wasn't nearly that blessed with his luck for lightning to strike twice. The stakes are also higher with Aedan and Julianna: not only is Julianna integral to any plot or scheme he might make to inhibit or even seize the reaches of his father, but Aedan was more-or-less the same - being a seasoned warrior and general as he is - and he certainly had less time for conspiracies. It was an odd thought: Antoine certainly didn't like to think of what he was doing as a grand conspiracy or plot, but in reality, it was definitely treason. As he pushed the breath out, he reminded himself: he wasn't plotting regicide, he was plotting peace, and both of these people seemed trustworthy enough. To some extent, he believed he could be transparent. 

As Antoine approached the two, he offered a curt bow to each one - Julianna first, followed by Aedan.
"My lady, my lord; or, your majesty soon enough." he began, following with a smile, "I believe congratulations are in order. It must be so exciting, marrying a man such as his majesty and becoming a Queen. I hope that it's not too stressful - this should be a time of rejoice for you, not worry." He then turned his attention to Aedan, pressing on with the thought: "And Lord Aedan- a pleasure, as always. I'd ask if the trip treated you well, but I feel like you'd never say if it didn't."

After initiating the conversation, Antoine paused. Naturally, time for replies and conversation was required, need not mention room for a response from him again. Yet, in the pit of his stomach, he couldn't help but feel the elephant in the room; no doubt the others felt it as well. Even if Aedan was a reluctant ruler, he was somebody that he wanted to trust, and Julianna went much the same - even if at arguably greater risk. Fortune favors the bold, her reminded himself; in the back of his mind, he assured himself that that saying was going to kill him one day.
"Although, I'm not going to pretend there isn't an elephant in the room." he began, his tone shifting to something more somber as his stance became less stiff.

Location: Urquhart Castle, Scotland.
Interacting with: Berserker of Red @MeteorD; Arieh Ayondale (mentioned) @Turboshitter; the other Masters of Red.
Magical energy: 177 out of 180.
As the light faded, Sonja clutched at her arm while repressing a grunt between gritted teeth. Her circuits thrummed with power, bringing a sensation of vague pins and needles across her while body, while her command circuits - previously dormant, following on from her family crest and running down her arm in a matter not unlike a tattoo sleeve - came to life midst a sensation not too unlike a bad burn. She clenched her fist briefly, helping herself tolerate the spot of pain, before all seemed to calm: the burning vanished as quickly as it arrived and the pins and needles gently faded. As she gently opened her hand and lowered her arms, she looked up to survey the results of her summoning, where her gaze then froze.

Even with her familiar circling overhead, feeding her information from its surveys and examinations, Sonja found it difficult to pay attention to almost anything else. She had never seen so much gold in her life: gold hair, gold jewelry, even a gold weapon. With his physique and the purity of his skin, he may as well be radiating gold. Her jaw came slightly ajar as she frankly stared, no doubt impressed  - if not amazed - with the heroic spirit before her. 

"The fantastic Golden Boy has come to your service. No matter what happens, I will see ya all the way to the finish line. Nice to meet'cha, Master." the spirit spoke: the Golden Boy himself, Kintarō of Mount Ashigara. While the servants visual lack of modesty did a point of irritating her, when he spoke - his confidence, the assurance in his voice - she felt relieved. In some ways, she felt hope; maybe the odds weren't as bad as she had thought. Although his voice served a second purpose: it brought her back to reality.
"Thank you." she pressed out, lifting a hand to quietly clear her throat afterwards. It was a bit of a stumbling return to the present, but it could have been much less dignified. "I understand this must be confusing for you: all the servants being summoned in one place. Let's find time later to discuss the details. For now though, there's a few more to come, and I'm worried we're being followed..."

Sonja dropped down to a kneel, gently collecting the catalyst and placing it back in the paper towel. She hesitated for a moment, considering the servant next to her: this catalyst did belong to him, so would it be right to return it? For now, she decided to postpone the thought. She gently sat the catalyst back into her bag before moving to heft it back up and stand once again. While she did move her gaze to survey the other servants as they arrived, curious as to the nature of their cast of rebels and outcasts, her attention remained elsewhere: the perception of her familiar circling routinely overhead. Even reassured as she was, with the Golden Boy besides her, she still couldn't bear the thought of letting her watch waver. Ayondale was smart, as much as she loathed to admit it; for all she knew, he could've let the heist happen. Nobody climbs to the top of the clocktower without making the right friends and executing the right schemes.

As the final servant failed to summon, lacking both light and someone to come out of it, Sonja's attention shifted to her own perception: to the castle courtyard and the last master to summon his servant. She watched as some of his thoughts came to his expression, no doubt confusion and frustration, before retreating to her own thoughts. As far as she knew, he had the command seals as issued by the grail, so then why did the servant fail to summon? After a moment of thought, she felt a pang in her gut, a sudden rock of unease sitting in the bottom of her stomach. Something was wrong. As she closed her eyes to focus on her familiars perception, her expression shifted to one portraying unease despite her best efforts to stifle her reaction. She scanned over the treeline and the castle alike, searching for wards and agents alike, trying as she might to identify why the summoning failed. It was then when she spot a flash of light, a brilliant purple orb rushing towards-

Sonja hunched forward in pain, sharing the sensation of her servant shattering to pieces. She clutched at her chest as she dropped to a knee, eyes sealed and teeth grit. The burst of pain was only brief, but it was certainly not pleasant. As soon as she could, she forced her eyes wide and swung her head up, opening her mouth to warn the others of the ambush before-
With more spells than one can rightly perceive at once slamming into the castle and renegades alike, everything erupted into chaos. She couldn't tell exactly how she evaded it: whether she threw herself into cover or was moved there, everything was happening far too quickly to perceive. Around her, other rogue students fell in drives: whether slammed by bolt, fire, or otherwise, they were cut apart. She reached over to one of the first to fall, dragging him towards him to survey his condition, where she quickly found there was little she would do with her healing magic. There was so little she could do; so quickly, she'd gone from hopeful to powerless. In her mind, she couldn't help but ask why? 

As the dust settled, she looked up to the two men atop the hill. While one definitely concerned her, the other stole her attention almost immediately: Ayondale. How could she not notice this? Even despite her familiar above, despite her sheer focus to having everything be perfect, how did she not notice the ambush? Her thoughts wandered towards her family crest. Was she even worthy of bearing the crest if she couldn't detect nigh-100 magus? She could have very well continued in her internal debate if her attention wasn't drawn away from Ayondale, to the man besides him: clad in brilliant clothes and carrying a wavy sword to match. As she focused on him, her command seals throbbed. 
"A servant..?" she asked herself, quietly but not so quiet that it couldn't be heard. It only took a moment for her to realize what was happening; once she realized, with the rush of fight-or-flight adrenaline surging through her, her eyes widened in urgency while her expression steeled in focus. "They have Saber!" she called to the others as she fumbled to stand, "We can't take on that many magi and Saber without the initiative! We need to go!" In the distance, a she heard a familiar voice calling out something similar to Caster. She only hoped it would pan out without going worse than it already had.

As she rushed for the opposite end of the courtyard, seeking out an escape route she spot from above, she called out to her servant: 
"You and Lancer have the best odds at holding off Saber, maybe Rider too! Can you keep Saber off us!? I'll heal you if you get hurt!" she paused before now calling out to the other masters: "There's a way out over here!"

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