Yi looked up to see a graceful man with flowing white hair and a penchant for politeness, though he clearly wasn't just a man. He was a Servant. However, with those red eyes, one wondered whether he was as human as Berserker. There had certainly been chatter about that, at least, from what she could hear. Nevertheless, the Master of Berserker responded in the same graceful, polite manner. Though, both a bow and a handshake seemed too much in her opinion. He could at least decide on a bow or a handshake, the flurry of the two was just confusing. Yi only decided to reply with the same gestures in case omitting one of the two would offend. Still, her short nod of the head could hardly be called a bow and the loose, brief handshake would cause those that judged people on the quality of their handshakes to question whether this woman and her words were entirely sincere.
"I would be glad to, thank you." Yi said, friendliness hiding behind formality.
[hr]
"...Heracles."
That was the answer the boy finally spat out after giving a glare to Berserker. At least the kid had some spirit, but the guess was way off the mark, which made the Servant chuckle. Whether or not it was part of some sort of strategy didn't matter, two more wrong guesses and Berserker would have his prize. Admittedly, the identity of each Servant that was here was bound to be found out eventually, thought that wasn't one of Berserker's concerns. He wanted to win this little game. However, not because of things like the shame of losing to a mere boy or stuff like that, but simply to win. Berserker was simple in that respect, and he was two-thirds of the way there. Even so, this little game wasn't over yet.
"Wrong." The hairy behemoth said with a poker face, "Guess again."
Even though the Servant was keeping his visage impressively neutral, Matt could almost hear Berserker's hidden delight. It wasn't like he had been too confident in his answer to begin with, but part of him still wondered if Berserker was lying. After all, it wouldn't be hard for the Servant to simply tell him the wrong answer, and it was certainly the smart thing to do.
Then again, a game of riddles, such as this one, was regarded as all but sacred in some cultures. Assuming that Berserker came from one of them, and afforded the ritual the fervor it deserved, then lying about an answer would be the farthest thing from his mind.
Bah. In any case, he still had two more tries. There was no point in stewing about and double-guessing himself.
"Alright then," the magus replied plainly, stroking his chin as he considered his next choice. "How about... Spartacus?"
Two out of three wrong. This was almost too easy! Well, unless the boy managed to put out his name on the third guess. Stranger things had happened, after all. Berserker repeated the same words with the same face and the same expression. 'He thinks me a Greek or something! The giant was thinking. Hopefully the lad could figure out there was more possibilities other than that of Classical Mythology. Or had he only read those bits? Regardless, there was only one way to found out.
Judging by Berserker's silence and impassive countenance, Matt's last guess had been incorrect as well. Fantastic.
Nervously, the magus tried to think, to reason out who else the Servant might be. For once, his academic tendencies were working against him; instead of giving him the answer he wanted, he was overwhelmed by a flood of possibilities. Kintarou, Ragnar, William Wallace, there were countless heroes that could be standing before him! How was he supposed to choose just one of them?
And he was on his last guess as well, wasn't he? If he didn't get it right, then he'd have to give up Saber's name... Gah, unless luck was on his side for once (which it never seemed to be), there was no way this was going to go well. But he had to pick, he had to choose, he had to guess. Because if he didn't, then... then...
Wait a minute.
"I have one more guess, right?" Matt asked, obviously not expecting an answer to the rhetorical query. The ghost of a smile danced across the boy's lips for an instant, but he quickly forced his expression back to its indifferent default. "I'd like some time to think on it, if you don't mind. I'll let you know when I'm ready to guess again."
The young man knew that his tactic, while not exactly cheating, was certainly underhanded. Still, he would much rather take this course of action than give up his Servant's identity.
Nodding to Berserker in farewell, Matt turned away and began to make his way over to the large cluster of Masters and Servants in the center of the room. Something told him that hanging around the hairy giant after pulling a stunt like that wasn't the best of ideas.
That was easy for him to say. He hadn't stumbled upon a terrible secret for which he could easily be extinguished with a snap of someone's fingers. Her position was a precarious one which both frightened and excited her in equal measure. Fear and distrust had caught hold of her for the moment, knowing that her ineptitude could be seen as weakness and a perfect moment to strike down an intruder into this veiled lifestyle. The two men seemed nice enough but there was always the chance they were just stringing her along for their own twisted amusement.
"The fact of the matter is, if you have no magic circuit, then you are incapable of magecraft. No matter how perfect you make your summoning ritual, it will never work. You simply lack the fuel it needs to run."
["Yes. That would be the problem."]
The hard truth hit Machiko like a sack of hammers once again. Her form visibly slumped a little, her arms relaxing in the process from being clenched tight against her chest. Not even the Grail could overcome what seemed to her like a simple limitation such as needing a magic circuit. The teenager would have been more than willing to give her od in order to activate the circle but without the aid of a circuit to refine it into prana it was an exercise in futility. The girl sighed, dismayed with the confirmation of what she had already figured out on her own. It really was the end of the line.
["Hm. Assuming you can handle the war..."]
A spark of hope was ignited with those words. She would do anything to be apart of this holiest of wars, to command an epic hero and duel with the best magi this planet had to offer. She knew she only needed that one chance to prove herself. She dispelled her dreary disposition as she looked up at Yuri, who was already pacing around the summoning circle to take his position opposite Alexander.
"...Yes?" she peeped tentatively, her voice filled with hope.
"That means if you're going to summon your Servant, you'll need to borrow prana from one of us. I can supply the ritual with the amount it needs, if you wish. But you'll still need to recite the aria."
Machiko could already feel the tears welling up in her eyes. It seemed as though these two mages not only had no ill-will towards her for discovering their secret world but were actively willing to help induct her into their most sacred of traditions. The gesture meant the world to the young woman, another chance to grasp the life of intrigue she had longed for so badly. Words couldn't express how large her heart was swelling with gladness but she had to say something.
"Th-th-thank you..." she almost whispered, sniffling before wiping away the building tears before they streamed down her face. "I'll do my best..."
The three then set themselves into their positions around the circle. Each member extended a hand towards the circle, the two men slowly feeding it prana to activate the ritual. Machiko took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves once more to keep her voice steady and unwavering during the aria. The last thing she needed was another set back. She couldn't fail, not after a second chance had been so graciously offered to her.
"Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill...
Repeat five times, but destroy each when filled,
Let silver and crimson be thy essence,
Upon it rest the cornerstone; the Archduke of Contracts,
And above them, my ancestor, the great Master Schweinorg.
A single verse into the aria and the spell was already having a visible effect. A ghostly wind began to pick up as the energy from the ritual swirled within. The teenager girl was shocked and in awe of the sudden appearance of the phenomena but kept a stoic composure as not to make an unwanted gaffe in her reciting. She needed to keep her focus.
"Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall,
Let the four gates of cardinal direction close,
Let the spirit come forth down the winding path I make,
Let the kingdom be the one true path forward."
As the second verse finished the wind picked up in force, beginning to shake the furniture haphazardly laying about. The various books were blowing open, flipping through pages rapidly and some even being tossed about. Scraps of old texts and parchment scrolls were fluttering about, adding to the distraction, yet she never lost focus. Losing all of her research material was only a petty grievance compared to the concentration she couldn't afford to give up.
"I hereby propose,
That my will shall create thy body,
And thy sword shall create my fate,
If thou dost accede to this will and reason, answer me!
The ritual was nearing completion at the end of the third verse. Each line she had drawn was glowing brighter than a white hot sun and continuing to grow in power. The sheer pressure of the spell was beginning to overwhelm her and she hadn't the faintest clue of how she would be able to continue fighting this war if such a commonly known mystery would make her knees weak. It was then that it dawned on her. She needed a Servant that could shore up her one true weakness in this battle, a master of mysteries and true magic alike. She knew of the verse to summon the mad warrior, Berserker, but would the same concept work for another? She had to try, despite all odds of it backfiring, she had little choice but to attempt the impossible. Her hesitation was fractionary, a small exhale of breath to steady her mind and think of what she would say next to try and coax her chosen class, before upturning her hand and displaying the symbols that were slowly beginning to etch themselves onto her hand.
"O' hero of the eternal craft,
Shaper of elements, master of the forgotten arts,
I command you to heed my call,
Come stand at your master's side!
I am all that is good in the eternal world,
I shall be the disposer of evil in the eternal world,
Though who art clad in the Great Trinity, come forth,
Guardian of the Heavenly Scales!"
As the last word was spoken the light overwhelmed the room and filled it entirely. It seemed like an eternity before it returned from whatever dimension it had come from and Machiko could see once more. What stood before her left her both speechless and awed, trembling at what she had just accomplished. Where the summoning circle had been now stood the silhouette of a hero of legend, a man renown for great deeds in his past life that ultimately changed the course of history itself. It seemed impossible, yet with the assistance of the two magi she had broken the rules of convention and made it a reality.
The spirit before them was an older gentleman, standing even with Yuri. Gray hair surrounded his balding head like a crown, sticking out backwards into numerous spiky tufts. His face was tough like old leather, the barest hints of a mustache and goatee gracing his face. Focused brown eyes stared back, hardened from years of meticulous work. His dress was very elegant, a long silk kimono of white emblazoned with a yellow floral pattern upon it. The sash drawn across his waist was a similar yellow and at his sides were six blades, three to each hip, slightly longer than the average katana at about five feet in length. Hidden beneath the many sheaths of the six blades were also a small drinking gourd, filled with what was most likely sake and a ritual tanto. Almost contrary to each masterfully crafted blade and his supple kimono were a very plain set of geta, worn from years of wear and stained far darker than any wood with soot.
Before any of the masters or Archer could react to the newly summoned Servant, he knelt before Machiko, bowing deeply enough to press his forehead to the floor.
"My master, I've come to your side to serve you," he said in a voice that carried a gruff and rural accent. "My humble talents are yours to use."
"Indeed I am," the Servant replied before the girl could reveal his identity. He took the brief pause to stand back to his full height, dusting off his kimono before continuing. "But you need to call me Caster for now." The man then thumbed towards Alexander and Archer, using his other hand to block his mouth from sight of the two. "Wouldn't want David and Goliath over there to get jealous of us, now would we?"
The old man laughed heartily at his own joke, throwing back his head as if showing off. His face flushed even further when Machiko joined him, snorting in a fit of dainty giggling. The two seemed to click almost instantly, their compatibility being unusually high for someone who had used a catalyst during the ritual. But before they could enjoy each other's company, the six were interrupted by yet another turn of events that would soon shape the entire reason they were summoned to this very church.
"So your first adversity has been surmounted?" boomed a great, deep voice from within the doorway to the storage room. If there was any here who could be called a warrior, it was the man standing before them now. "So few who proved to be exceptional." His face twisted, various glowing scars bending across the silhouette of his face in worry. "Well then, let us join your less than capable 'companions' in their folly, shall we?"
Name: Goro Nyudo Masamune
Class: Caster
Gender: Male
Alignment: Neutral Good
Likes: Young women, sake, weapons of fine craftsmanship
Dislikes: Needless bloodshed, politics, tests
Parameters:
STR: C
END: D
AGI: D
MAN: B
LUK: B
NPH: B+
Skills
Forgecraft: Caster is not able to use magecraft like normal individuals. He instead must forge items and weapons that are imbued with magecraft and utilize the created item or weapon to cast the magecraft. In this regard, Caster has become exceptionally well-versed in imbuing items with magical properties, as well as creating them from scratch. This skill supersedes Item Creation. Rank A+
Territory Creation: Caster can recreate the royal forge of the Tokugawa clan. Rank D
Weapon Soul Awakening: Caster is able to release the true strength of legendary weapons, awakening and actualizing their "soul". Any weapon phantasm Caster wields is considered to be far more powerful than even their intended owner. He may also temper the soul of the blade, releasing its true potential for a limited time for any wielder. The amount of time Caster is able to spend with the blade determines the length the weapon is awakened for. Rank B
Phantasms
Katana of Five Rings: Those Who Show the Path - Caster carries with him a set of five katana that are deeply attuned to the five elements of combat: earth, water, fire, air and ether. Each blade is so finely tuned with their elements that whoever wields these blades is able to cast all but the most powerful of magecraft with a simple swing of the blade. In addition, the wielder can combine the powers of two or more blades to refine the ?origin? of the spell. The wielder does not need to possess a circuit as the blades can supply a base amount of prana independent of Caster?s reserves; however they can only conjure magecraft one rank below the phantasm?s rank if used by someone who has no magic circuit. Rank B (B+ Caster only)
Yawarakai-Te: The Blade Who's Tender Hands Protect - Yawarakai-Te is a sacred relic that was forged by Caster himself. It is a curious blade that cherishes life rather than destroying it outright. Though it will not deny its master the ability to fight, it often will soften blows, swerve strikes and sometimes become outright intangible against opponents who are undeserving of its wrath. As a holy relic, however, it will seek out those who are of pure evil and corruption in this world and performs far better against those who are unredeemable. Upon calling forth the name of the blade, it will began to shine a brilliant cherry blossom pink and can be used to cut through any attack, effectively destroying it by harmlessly dissipating the prana used to create it throughout the surrounding area. The glow of the blade will also heal minor wounds indiscriminately aside from those who are considered to be pure evil who are repelled by the blade's light. It is the only weapon that Masamune cannot use Weapon Soul Awakening on, the pure blade's potential not being able to be improved upon. Rank A-
Strengths: Caster is an unusual spirit for his class. Unlike the frail magicians and witches of days past, Caster is a blacksmith who spent a lifetime hammering folds of steel and baring the heat of a full furnace. He is much more physically capable than the average Caster spirit, able to go toe to toe with even a Saber class Servant, if only for a few minutes. His spells have relatively low costs, his Katana of Five Rings lowering the overall prana needed to cast his magecraft.
Weaknesses: Caster could be said to have many weaknesses. From his lecherous tendencies to his penchant for drinking, the man has many social foibles. As a Caster class he's considered to be weak, his magecraft poor compared to most. He is also reliant on his Katana of Five Rings for the majority of his power; taking away one blade effectively cuts his power down by one-fifth.
"Back off, Banana-Brains. There's no way I'm gonna die. Not if the other Servants are as big of goofs as you are. Go bother someone who's honorable enough not to punch your teeth out."
Lancer couldn't help but laugh even more loudly at Daria's grandstanding. Mortals always were an endless source of amusement, especially spirited ones like this. "Oh, I'd love to see you try, little girl." Moving with his trademark swiftness, he was at Daria's side yet again, pacing about her while leaning in a little too close for comfort. "In the time it took you to pull back your arm, I could shatter seventeen bones - and that's just with my tail!" He chuckled as he leaned in, his smile widening to a terrifying grin. "Would you like me to demonstrate?"
"Lancer, please don't..." Diana tried to intervene, but she was cut short by a glare from Lancer. "Don't what? Remind a petty mortal why she can't just run her mouth? I think not, my..."
"ENOUGH."
Lancer stopped dead at the outburst, turning his gaze towards his Master. Dropping his half-finished cigarette and crushing it beneath his shoe, Clay strode over to his Servant, an angry scowl marking his face. "Lancer, apologize."
"Apologize!? For what?" Lancer balked, bolting to his Master with a frown to match Clay's. "I was merely exercising my right to remind her of her place."
"And I'm exercising my right to remind you of yours." He pressed his fingers to his arm menacingly, keeping his angry glare even and not breaking eye contact. "Apologize. NOW."
"Tch." Despite his obvious reluctance, Lancer took a nervous look at Clay's seals before turning to bow to Daria. "I... ask your forgiveness, mortal. A threat of violence was out of line." He shot an angry glare back at Clay as he finished his bow, clearly not happy at having his leash pulled so publicly. "There. Are you happy, then?"
Father Matthias could barely believe it. Not even an hour within the confines of the church walls and already the Masters and their Servants were causing all kinds of commotion and trouble. You would think they would at least have some discretion, some discreetness, even just some common courtesy ? but no. They were a gaggle of hooligans with powers close to life and death itself. The old man sighed in frustration at having them congregated within the chapel, knowing he had no true power in this war. His position had been stripped down to one of simple pomp and circumstance and even that portion had been further belittled by the one named Ruler. The man of the cloth couldn't blame the Servant, he was only following the will of the Grail, but to know that there were other forces at work upon this event than even the Association seemed to realize was disturbing.
Miles was also beginning to become difficult to control. Once already he had tried to rush out in the defense of one of the Masters when they had cried out in frustration. It took some stern words and an even sterner blow with his cane to keep the boy in line. Father Matthias wasn't sure how long he could keep his authority over the young man, however. The deacon had been trained to help others above all else and to directly subdue that urge was becoming increasingly unbearable. The priest knew from first hand experience, after all. Yet their role was a passive one and there truly was nothing they could do for the girl. She would need to find a solution or die trying, as was common of many Masters in this war. There were limits, however, to the patience of even the wizened priest.
It was the moment that Lancer had tripped the young Master Orihara that Matthias had to intervene. Having a breakdown from lack of aptitude in the arcane arts was one thing. Committing tomfoolery within his hallowed halls was an entirely different matter and the priest intended to ensure that it would not happen again. Miles, despite the obvious futility, tried to hold the large man back, tugging on his cassock to hopefully stop the military man to no avail. The young deacon wasn't even sure who he should fear for more, Father Matthias or the Master and Servant who were about to be scolded.
As Matthias steadily marched towards the two delinquents he could already see the others doling out discipline to the Servant. While this may have been adequate for any other individual it was not sufficient in the eyes of the priest. They had shown disrespect to his Lord by not acting appropriately within His house and that required the shepherd to reign in his flock. By the time he was standing before the two individuals Lancer had already made a mockery of an apology to the wronged Master. Even with that fool of a Servant standing at least a head taller than the priest, his imposing figure seemed to loom over both of them. It was apparent that the man with the collar was going to require some repentance.
Before either could act upon him entering their circle of conversation, the priest deftly swung his cane. They had already watched him approach yet each was confounded by the sheer speed of the strikes coming at them. The man?s arm and weapon were a blur, striking out in the shape of an incomplete figure-eight to crack both Master and Servant across the crowns of their heads. The moment the blows had been struck it seemed as though the priest was already standing at attention with his cane firmly placed in front of him, both hands resting upon the ornate stick.
Daria's attention and ire was immediately turned towards the man in cloth. Her face was bright red and her body trembled with barely contained rage. That old geezer had dared to start something with her and now she planned on finishing it. Her eyes shifted quickly, seeing that even Lancer was slower on the uptake than the fiery woman, still befuddled by the fact that yet another human had lashed out at him with such disregard for his stature. The woman raised her hand high, preparing a massive overhand swing that was over her own head as she leaned forwards to deliver the blow. All of her force was going into this single punch and it would teach that stupid priest who was the boss around here.
As the young woman lashed out, Matthias? eyes narrowed into sharp slits. Had she not learned her lesson yet? It was as if time slowed as the military man began his counter. One swift strike with his cane was placed against his attacker?s wrist with enough force placed to just be below fracturing the bone. The second blow came quickly after, following across Daria's cheek with the same force to catch her off balance being pushed one way and then the other. His third maneuver was a quick sweep going from his left to his right, taking out the girl?s feet from under her in one brutal stroke. The final blow came in directly at her throat while in mid-air, pushing her to the ground with an almost lethal force. Air struggled to enter the woman?s lungs as her assailant?s figure towered over her, cane firmly pressed against her throat to restrict her breathing. The scene was motionless for only a moment before father Matthias decided to address the foolish girl.
?I would have expected better manners from an Orihara,? he remarked, those narrowed eyes squarely on Daria's with a look of fiery disdain. ?We took a large risk, Ms. Tohsaka and I, letting your adoptive brother leave. You are not instilling much conviction in my decision??
Matthias then quickly turned upon Lancer in the middle of his own haymaker. His cane was pointed towards the Servant, unwavering in both conviction and position. The monkey quickly put his hands up in front of the make shift bokken, grinning sheepishly like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
??And you,? he barked out, the scowl on his face ever persistent, "remember the respect the people within this room have earned simply by being allowed to be here. Have you so quickly forgotten the lessons of your past?"
The comment seemed to cut into Lancer far deeper than any sword blow could have. From a goofy grin to a simple frown, the Servant's demeanor changed drastically at the mention of his past life. There was something in that remark that held a kernel of truth and allowed some humility to shine through. As father Matthias left the two to sort themselves out, Daria humiliated and Lancer humbled, the monkey ceremoniously placed both of his hands in front of himself, one gently clasping the other.
"My sincerest apologies, Bhikkhu," he apologized, accompanied by a gracious bow. The priest seemingly paid the remark no mind and returned to his original post, his deacon right on his coat tails.
It wasn't long after the altercation that a thunderous laughter sounded from the back room of the church. No doubt the furious exchanges had echoed through the empty halls and reached the ears of all within the holy house. The voice was familiar, yet felt unknown due to the tone. Each within the church had heard it once before but not with such jovial exuberance. The clergymen were already turning their heads to the sole entrance to the main hall from the back rooms as the owner of the voice barely managed his way through the tiny door frame.
The man was a clear head above the rest of the occupants inside the nave, standing just above seven feet. His face was bright and cheerful, yet worn with age and battle. The most peculiar set of scars ran down from the man's bald scalp and over his left eye in a pattern much like circuitry. They glowed with power, lighting the walls with an eerie teal tint. His armour match in colour, more of a pearlescent tint towards a greener teal. The metal looked otherworldly, a synthetic alloy far beyond the capabilities of man as it was. It had been shaped to perfectly fit around the muscular build of the giant, coming out into multi-plated shoulder guards that looked so sharp they could be used to cut a man clean in half. The bottom half was shaped into a quad-plated skirt, a balance of protection and mobility. His limbs were not as well armoured as a full plated knight, but instead were armoured simply with bracers, elbow guards, knee pads and plated boots, the rest of his body covered in a black bodyglove and a tabard with golden rope draping down from the waist. His blade and scabbard were slung about the backside of his waist, the hilt of the blade to his right to be drawn with a reverse grip.
Behind the smiling giant peeked through a small child, seemingly out of place in this gathering of magi. The girl's red locks were wavy, even with them going down to her neckline, with cute floral barrettes clasped to each side. Her expression looked far more stern than a child should, a stark contrast to her baby face. Her attire was much more in-line with her adult demeanor, a white blouse with red jeweled broach and a black skirt and stockings, finished off with black flats to complete her assemble. She looked almost like a permanent fixture against the towering behemoth, keeping a firm grip on his leg as he strode over to the lectern where both Matthias and Miles had taken position.
After the pair came the rest of their group, Caster chatting furiously with a captive audience in Machiko, Alexander scolding Archer on every tenant of proper conduct and the Servant scrambling to correct each in stride, and Yuri casually slinking in at the rear towards his own Servant. As the fourteen assembled they began to train their attention on the man that had gone to great lengths to gather them all there; the man standing behind the lectern who called himself Ruler. He was already looking out at the crowd before him, inspecting each one with golden eyes that felt as if they could read your very soul. They each waited patiently to be addressed and the giant certainly took his time in doing so, but eventually gave them a welcoming smile before beginning.
"'The time has come once again for the seven magi to assemble and resume the great quest. Each master has employed a Servant from one of the seven classes to aid in their quest. Together they will join in a battle royal to obtained the greatest treasure of mankind, the Holy Grail. This competition is known as the Holy Grail War. Yet in this moment these statements are not entirely true..."
"You have been gathered here this evening to perform a service for the Grail that has given mankind its power to make real your wildest fantasies. There is a sickness that festers within that must be purged. You may be wondering why I have chosen you all personally, unlike a normal summoning. I have been given the privileged of watching humanity and choosing seven magi to fight on behalf of the Grail, to see it through this vile corruption and forfeit their wish in order to ensure the survival of this most sacred treasure for future generations. If we do not fix this stain upon its holy light, the third magic may be lost to humanity forever!"
"You seven are the destined warriors of light amongst a sea of darkness. You must shine brighter than any that have come before you to defeat the Servants and Masters that will be pitted against you in this -- the greatest of all Holy Grail Wars. You are the white against the black; a team that will be forged in the fires of war or burnt into husks by its trials. Steel yourselves, magi, for you are about to become the first team of Masters to fight in a dual war in this, the holiest of wars, the seventh Holy Grail War!"
Ruler paused to look out at the gathered Masters and Servants once again, his eyes skimming over each individual for their reactions before licking his lips and smirking to himself.
"Any questions?"
Class: Ruler
Gender: Male
Alignment: Lawful Good
Likes: Humanity, debate, sailing
Dislikes: His imperfections, apathy, weeds
Parameters:
STR: A
END: B
AGI: A
MAN: C
LUK: B
NPH: EX
The seven Masters and Servants were gathered before Ruler, paired off into their teams as they quietly listened to his words. Standing on the periphery, Daria sulked. Her arms crossed, the red-faced girl tried to tune out the strange man speaking to them. The Servant called Ruler. To her side was the Servant Rider, Enkidu. Although he was a bit disappointed he was interrupted while introducing himself to a lovely young lady, he was not quite so bitter as his Master. He watched her from the corner of his eye. So immature, this girl. But fiery, to be sure. He could admire that much. It wasn't like he couldn't sympathize with her, either. The monkey man to their right, Lancer had been getting the occasional glare from his fellow Servant for the last couple of minutes now. He hadn't come quickly enough to speak on Daria's behalf, before the good Father broke up the brewing scuffle. It was for the best; who knows what he might have done if he'd had the time to come to her aid. It would do no good to damage their fragile alliance of combatants so early in the game.
But if Enkidu had learned anything from his dearest friend, it was how to hold a grudge. Another time, another location. But when the time was right, Lancer would learn his place. He was also quite fascinated by this "Ruler" character. Enkidu was as new to the concept of a Holy Grail War as anyone here, but his status as a Servant afforded him some knowledge on the subject. This was a highly unusual War, and under normal circumstances he would not exist at all. This one was very visually distinctive with his mysterious tattoos, yet Enkidu could not draw a name to mind when observing him.
As the speech went on, Daria could not help but grow distracted from her anger. The priest had broken up her and Lancer's fight, and wiped the floor with her to boot. She was 0-2 in her battles today, her worst record in months. That didn't get under her skin though. If anything, that made her excited. This Holy Grail War was every bit as unforgiving as her big brother had made it out to be, and she could look forward to fights beyond her wildest dreams here. No, what made her mad was that she hadn't even gotten a chance to throw a punch Lancer's way. There was no shame in losing a battle, but a battle that's begun and isn't finished is simply pathetic. Only respect for the surprisingly agile priest that had drubbed her minutes ago kept her from springing across the church right then and there to begin round two with the big primate. But these pent-up frustrations were being drowned out by the idea of such an amazing event to take part in. Seven more Servants were out there, and seven Masters to battle as well. She wondered if there were any like her out there. She might be able to meet some sparring partners.
And, you know, save the world or something.
Her primary objective was firmly restated in her head by her conscience. These days, it sounded a lot like her brother. She got a lot of lectures from him over the years about things like "priorities", "responsibility", and "basic civility". She could only ignore so much of it before some stuck. That wasn't such a bad thing either. Being a hero, saving the day and all. It just didn't hold the same appeal.
[hr]
Archer did his best to remain quiet and unnoticed in the opening speech by the man who had brought them all to this church, Ruler. The Servant was quite inspiring, to say the least. He wouldn't have been out of place on the battlefields at Troy, trading blows with Achilles or Ajax. Except maybe the tattoos. "Are those magic?" he wondered, watching them emanate their teal light. They seemed so alien to him. He admittedly felt a little disappointed at the lineup. He had held onto the hope that the other team of Masters and Servants might be present for this. If he was to be a scout, knowing who he was supposed to spy on would have been a great boon. Too much to ask for, though, he knew. The small man supposed it was for the best; if he could see them, they could see him, and his targets knowing he would be coming would be quite the disadvantage.
He was so lost in thought he did not notice his Master watching him more than the speech. Alexander felt pride seeing his Servant take to his role so quickly. That calculating, strategizing expression was impossible to mask. Their team would go far, he was quite certain. All that was left to do was take stock of the other teams. There was of course the girl, Machiko, and Caster. Though this Caster didn't seem like one he would expect. They could safely be considered a wild card team. A girl with no magical prowess and a Servant with (presumably) no ability BUT magical prowess. Then there were Assassin, and her Master, the man they had met earlier. Assassin's ability was never measured in parameters, but in skills and utility. So he couldn't give an accurate rating of them yet, though the woman seemed... somewhat less stealthy than the illustrations had made her class out to be. He had heard tell of irregular Servants. Perhaps this was one of them?
Much like Assassin, Berserker was a tough nut to crack until their Mad Enhancement activated. For now he appeared purely average, if more talkative than his class normally was. But that could change quite drastically.
The most plainly seen powers in the room belonged to Saber, Lancer, and Rider, in that order. Any EX rating denoted power beyond reckoning (and he recalled reading that Sabers were as a rule the strongest class), and the monkey man was no slouch either. However, of the two he expected more of the latter. The Masters were plainly of different leagues. Lancer's Master was older, and weathered. Clearly of experience not unlike Alexander's own. A true peer to be measured and respected on the field of battle.
Saber's Master... well... he looked just like Archer. There was no way to look around his meek appearance. Machiko, while talentless, at least had the spirit of a magus to earn her Command Spells. What by his father's good name was this poor child doing in this War? His heart was filled with pity for the child. Such a boy couldn't be here by choice. "Poor boy, caught up in something larger than himself..."
That left, last, Rider and the girl that stood beside him. There was nothing that seemed truly extraordinary about his parameters... if he were a knight class. But he was a Rider, who normally possessed weaker stats and skills. He must have been a powerful spirit to earn such strength in his class. And his appearance was quite unusual as well. He appeared very similar to the Einzbern homunculi of much repute in the Clock Tower. For a brief moment he'd assumed he was a Master, representing said family, and the oddly dressed woman was perhaps an abnormal Berserker, like his Archer or their Assassin. He was curious to see them in action, as it was said Riders tended to have powerful Phantasms.
As the Masters and Servants made their observations, Ruler asked the collection of individuals: "Any questions?"
Alexander looked to his left as the Master of Rider stepped forward.
Daria stared straight at Ruler, undaunted by his imposing appearance. With a daring smile she said, "I've got one."
Crunching her fist against a palm, she demanded to know, "When do we meet our opponents? You said it's a War, right? I'd like to know who I'm fighting."
Her gaze faltered for only a brief moment. Just a quick glance. She'd only just now begun to pay attention to Ruler in her excitement for the coming War. And she noticed the little girl behind him.
Years ago, she'd met someone. Her brother was there, introducing her. She'd met the two before, but the girl clinging to her mother's leg was new. Her brother pointed at the child with such brilliant red hair.
"Daria, this is..."
A perplexing expression flashed across her face, but Daria looked away from the girl, and toward Ruler. "Well?"
"Success." Yuri stated, matter of factly, as he observed the new man. He was old, and serene. A Caster, in elegant Japanese clothing, armed with 7 blades, all seemingly better made than Yuri's own Scottish broadsword. He smiled, this one would serve the girl well it seemed, their laughter was already filling the halls.
A voice from behind reminded Yuri that he was to keep his guard up, at all times. Even if it was friendly, surprises are what got you killed. The warrior told them this was their first obstacle? The war would be over in hours, if that were the case.
"Well then, let us join your less than capable 'companions' in their folly, shall we?"
Yuri nodded stiffly, and fell into the back of the line, watching the others movements. He wondered if he could take them all, if he wanted to right now?
________________________________________________________________________________________________ 'And suddenly I've been abandoned. Is this how Brutus usually feels when he begins talking about fire?' Matt played with the brute, losing their game it looked like. The monk challenged the girl, who Cassius though was actually going to oblige. Seeing a smirk punched off a face was always a pleasant sight, so long as she stayed out of fist and blood spray range. Though, in all likely hood, she would have been crushed into the dirt and used as fertilizer.
The fight was almost immediately broken up by the priest, however, who was good at scolding and even better at combat. When was the last time she'd seen a can used like THAT? She hoped Daria was better against people using conventional weapons, or else they'd lose their Rider quickly...
________________________________________________________________________________________________ "Cassius." Yuri greeted, casual as ever, finally dusting some of the dry wall off his coat. Cassius raised an eyebrow, but said nothing of it. Instead, she offered a polite "Yuri," as they turned to listen to the Ruler's speech.
"Any questions?"
Cassius' mind was alight with ideas and plans, while Yuri simply looked on. The Matou's greatest couldn't win a 'standard' war, now it was time for Yuri to win the greatest, and last. No more also meant a chance at true freedom... His eyes showed only determination, and he grinned as Daria gave her proposal, a thing Cassius should've asked too. She came up with three scenario's in her head already, but she'd need more information on how the other team operated first. Speculation based on how the enemy should behave was useless.
Clay chuckled as his Servant was walloped by the wizened old priest. While his own admonishing kept Lancer from acting on his less savory urges, he appreciated Matthias was capable of handing out a natural punishment for his unruly behavior. While he saw the need to keep Lancer in check, he was leery to pull his leash too hard and with too much zeal, lest he garner the Servant's resentment. Clay made a mental note to thank Matthias later for his assistance in this matter before noting the arrival of two more Master-Servant pairs, Caster and Archer.
Before he could get a proper read on them, however, he heard a familiar chuckle boom from outside the church. Turning his head to see Ruler's imposing frame enter through the front door, Clay withdrew to the outskirts of the atrium to let him make his speech. He didn't listen much, because he could guess the contents beforehand - congratulations on the summoning, a basic rundown on their place in the war, that sort of thing. Deciding to take the opportunity to be a bit more productive, he scanned the room, formally sizing up his his allies. He'd need to determine quickly who would be an asset he could trust, and who would be a liability to work around - the stakes were too high for him to waste his time with somebody over their head.
First were the newcomers - Caster and Archer. Caster himself seemed par for course as far as Servants go, which is to say a great deal more dangerous than he appeared. Mediocre paramaters, as to be expected, but that wasn't the point of his class. No, what interested Clay more were the swords on his person. Seven, to be exact. Could they be part of his phantasms? Some arcane art of which he had little knowledge? Only time would tell. His Master, on the other hand, was rather unusual in that Clay sensed no magical potential in her at all. While he wanted to say that would make her a crippling liability, he got the feeling that, much liker her Servant, there was more to this one that wasn't immediately apparent.
Archer, on the other hand, was much less impressive. He stood even shorter than Diana, with a boyish face and a meek disposition. Subpar paramaters damned him even further. Clay would write the boy off completely... if it weren't for the sheer power his apparent Master wielded. A tall man standing a full head taller than Clay himself, Archer's master radiated an aura of power and confidence. Clay made a mental note to talk with this one later - he was bound to be interesting, to say the least.
Continuing his assessment, Clay's attention turned towards Saber. Her EX rank in strength alone would make her a devastating asset, but she had a suite of other good parameters to compliment it, as he expected of the greatest of the knight classes. He'd need to see her combat skills first-hand before he made a final judgement, but Clay suspected with great certainty that pairing her with Lancer would make for a devastating combination on the battlefield. Her Master, however, reminded him much of Archer. Meek, unimpressive, and generally over his head. He'd need to prove much if he was to survive this conflict.
Assassin was the next to come under his silent scrutiny. Much like Caster, her parameters weren't the point - it was her skill as a cutthroat that mattered. Her rather forthcoming nature with her identity posed a serious security risk, and was indicative of a temperament ill-suited to espionage. And while her Master seemed to do his best to avoid scrutiny,
Clay didn't get the same impression of meekness he got from Saber's Master. Perhaps he summoned an Assassin because he himself works best behind the scenes?
Berserker was another entity that required further information. Without Mad Enhancement, he was essentially a knight class with sub-par parameters. His temperament mattered little - it would be supplanted by complete and utter rage when Mad Enchantment was activated, after all. His Master seemed his near complete opposite, composed and collected. This was good - a level head can overcome even the greatest deficiencies in personal power.
And then there was Rider. Clay knew better than to assume this childish figure wasn't a threat - he had parameters well beyond what was expected of his class. On top of that, Riders are known for their powerful phantasms - if he could divine their nature, they too would make for powerful tools. His Master was still brooding after being scolded by Matthias, but any protege of Orihara's had to be worth Clay's time, if not his respect. Her temper would be a problem, however. Holding grudges and letting your pride get the better of you gets you killed in a real fight.
"Any questions?"
Clay snapped back to attention as Ruler concluded his speech. He kept silent - any questions he had he strongly suspected Ruler couldn't or wouldn't answer, and so he wouldn't waste his breath.
Machiko could feel her heart in her throat as she walked into the greater atrium of the church. The other five Servants and four Masters were spread about the room, involved in various conversations concerning what she could only surmise as the finer points of magi tactics. It was a daunting but thrilling moment in her experience, seeing her fellow compatriots hard at work. She could only hope that her unique skill set would prove to be useful in a war where information gathering could be as easy as muttering an enchantment. Before the girl could even look to her Servant for reassurance for her unspoken worries, the spirit had already placed a hand on her shoulder to comfort her.
?Don?t worry,? he whispered, not even looking towards the girl as he scanned his soon to be comrades. ?You?ll do fine.?
?I hope so?? she muttered back, tugging at her blouse with worried hands.
As the crowd of participants began to gather, the young woman took her place front row center, the penultimate location to listen to a good address. Her Servant looked less than interested, his eyes shifting from one side of the room to the other, hovering over each pairing to scrutinize. It was an activity he excelled at, finding flaws within the perfect fold of steel that could find the blade brittle or warped upon shaping it. People were no different and after a lifetime of forging weapons he was the best at finding the small imperfections that could destroy a tool of war.
The first team his eyes laid upon was Daria and Rider. The fiery temper of the Master was an obvious flaw, easily able to endanger not only herself but jeopardize the safety of other during a planned action. What worried Caster more was her servant. His pale skin, snow white hair and blood red eyes. Was he some sort of oni from the shadowlands? That simple hypothesis disturbed him greatly and the spirit felt his spine tingle and a bead of cold sweat trace his jaw line. If there was any amount of truth to this he would need to keep a close eye on that one.
Next were Lancer and his Master, Clay Marks. The Servant seemed almost worse than the woman before. His casual, inattentive manner was only out-shone by his disregard for others in what he assumed was an inflated ego. Even now he was fiddling with what seemed to be the Master?s attendant?s hair, much to her chagrin as she was given three very unflattering pigtails. The Master seemed to be the complete opposite; cool, composed, uncaring. He was a warrior through and through and quite possibly the most experienced combatant outside of the seven Servants. It was a curious pairing to be sure but also a highly volatile one. Should the Servant truly step out of line, which was a very real possibility with how he was acting, there was little telling what lengths the Master would take to regain authority.
The third group he inspected was that of Saber and her Master Matthew Heller. They were a stark contrast, that much was certain. The Servant looked as though she could break a man in two without so much as breaking a sweat, where as the boy could be subdued by a stiff breeze. Though he put up an excellent front, the young man was quaking in his boots much like his own Master. The only question that plagued him was what the boy was willing to ensure for his convictions. Hopefully his Servant would be supportive rather than cause more friction.
The next pair was a set of familiar faces -- Alexander and Archer. He had already eavesdropped a little while conversing with Machiko and had surmised that the Master wasn't the happiest about his situation. Every phrase spoken had an underlying tone of disappointment, even when praising the Servant which had been a rare occurrence. Something was always incorrect with how Archer held himself and that constant negative reinforcement could erode the thickest of skins. Yet the Servant seemed eager to please. The younger spirit had something to prove, that much was certain, but he could be twisted so easily that there was certainly some worry of the boy blindly following the plots of some nefarious operative in the shadows. Casters? eyes drifted towards his Master for a moment at those thoughts, noting how susceptible she would be to similar manipulation.
Next were Yi Yu Yuen and Berserker. Surprisingly enough, the couple seemed to be the most synced of the entire lot. While Berserker seemed to be a tad cheerful and his Master a tad somber, it was far better than what he had already witnessed. The only concern was the business-like posture of the woman. She looked to be one who would project her aptitude upon others and scrutinize mistakes made that she would never dream of committing. Her business-like authority might also make it difficult to form a lasting or more personal bond if she chose to keep that demeanor when dealing with others. Then there was the ever present danger of the Mad Enhancement and what sort of frothing terror Berserker would manifest into. With a man his size and presumably strength he would make a truly terrifying spirit to break free of his chains within the madness.
Lastly were the already familiar Yuri Makiri and Servant Assassin. They were an odd pairing, to be certain. On the one hand they seemed to rub each other the wrong way. Assassin was visibly trying to keep her distance from the man while attempting to not appear too put off by her Master. The man, on the other hand, seemed quite disinterested in his Servant?s actions and was more enthralled with the speech Ruler was giving. Yet the two moved the same, stood the same and looked the same. They were both free spirits yet bound to the shadows around them, slinking and scheming in a terrible fashion. If they could realize what they had in common they could potentially make one of the stronger teams; if they didn't they would inevitably destroy the other in pettiness.
As Caster neared the end of his inspection, he could tell his Master was becoming restless ? no doubt a perfect sign that the speech was nearing a conclusion. The Servant dutifully brought his attention back to the giant in front of them at the lectern, straightening himself out with a small rustle of his shoulders before placing his hands behind his back.
?Any questions??
Machiko hesitated at that moment, ready to blurt out the most pressing concern on her mind before reigning herself back in. Daria seized the opportunity as soon as she saw the opening, demanding foolish things like who they were going to be fighting and when this would all take place. The shy teenager withdrew once more, fidgeting in contemplation before looking up at Caster for more reassurance. He simply gave the warmest smile he could, a stark contrast to the focused edge he had just moments before.
?Go ahead,? he whispered, ?anyone here who?s stupid enough to poke fun at your question?ll have to deal with the master of blades!? He winked at the end, his smile becoming a cheeky smirk.
Machiko nodded slowly, as if still determining how that idea tasted to her brain. She didn?t want to cause undue duress, nor look like a complete fool amongst her supposed peers, but she wasn?t as knowledgeable as the rest in affairs of magi and the Grail War. They had prepared all their lives for this chance ? she had been graced with less than half a year. Before anymore doubt could nestle itself upon her query, she stepped forwards after Daria had finished but before Ruler could give an answer. Blushing a deep red she fidgeted a bit more before speaking up.
?Mr. Ruler, sir, what are the exact rules for this competition, if any?? she squeaked before hastily retreating to the charismatic shield her Servant seemed to radiate for her.
The sound of the church doors swinging open snagged Saber's attention, and the Servant switched her focus from the conversation with Rider and Assassin to the line of people filing into the chapel. Three Servants and four Masters, most of them bristling with all kinds of power and strength. Archer and one of the Masters, a young teenage girl, being the exceptions.
Setting her lips into a neutral line, the knight watched silently as Ruler waltzed up to the front of the room, just before the alter, and began to speak. "The time has come once again for the seven magi to assemble and resume the great quest..."
As she listened, part of Saber noted her Master sliding up behind her, still staying all meek and quiet. Out of the corner of her eye, she could spot him still scribbling away in that notebook of his (he was looking at Archer, Caster, and Ruler this time around).
"...Steel yourselves, magi, for you are about to become the first team of Masters to fight in a dual war in this, the holiest of wars, the seventh Holy Grail War!
"Any questions?"
As Ruler finished up his speech, Saber found herself grinning in anticipation. Light and darkness, evil and corruption, she didn't care about any of that. The Grail could go to hell for all she cared; now that she was here, she hardly needed the thing. No, what excited her was the promise of combat, the guarantee that she would be able to cross blades with some of history's other greatest heroes. That was all she needed to align herself with this faction.
Her Master, however, didn't seem to be so easily satisfied. "Um..." the boy began, his weak words falling through the air like dried leaves, "I... I don't understand. You're saying that the Grail is corrupted, right? That we need to win and use its power to fix it? So... Why are we even fighting? You talked about another faction; why would we need to fight them, if this is the only way to fix the Grail?
"And also..." The boy hesitated, his eyes falling to the ground between his feet. But when he finally spoke, his voice was harder, more determined. "If we need to forfeit our right to the Grail, even if we win... Then why should I risk my life?"
Berserker groaned and slowly walked back to join his Master's side as she got closer to get a better look at the new arrival, but she also chose to give Ruler a wide berth and stopped, leaving a respectable distance between them. Master and Servant listened intently to Ruler's speech. It confirmed Berserker's remark about a 'team deathmatch' of sorts; that fact along the other facts brought both joy and sorrow to her. The holiest of Grail Wars? An epic clash of magi on a much larger scale than the previous Wars? The victors having to forfeit their wish in order to purify the Grail and do a service to magi worldwide and humanity as a whole? For once, Master and Servant were both in agreement - the speech had brought the vainglorious side of them out. Nevertheless, they both had different reasons for looking forward to the War. Yi liked the prospect of being part of the purification effort. Berserker had a much more simpler reason: more opponents, more glory. That and he wouldn't have to kill Matt.
Yi folded her arms and thought of a question to ask. After all, in a situation like this, it would be best to have as much information as possible. Questions about the other faction had been asked, and the novice had already asked a foolish question about the rules. But, she was just a schoolgirl. Well, a schoolgirl that had convinced some of the others to help with her summoning, but a schoolgirl nonetheless. The boy had asked questions regarding the matter of the wish. Yi wasn't particular concerned about that, but information was information. It was fresh news to her that the Grail was corrupted. 'Seven magi summon a Servant each and battle each other to obtain the Holy Grail, which can grant a single wish' was the story she had been told. For the first time in what seemed to be ages, she spoke, "What is the nature of this 'corruption'?"
"Why should...?" Daria mouthed the words, foreign and clumsy on her tongue. It was the kind of phrase she only knew indirectly. She knew, in practice, the words could go together. But not once had they crossed her mind until now. Narrow green eyes bored a hole through the scrawny Master's skull. Enkidu tried to plead with her to stop, but she couldn't hear her Servant. She saw only red. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?! How about because you were asked?! And because you accepted!"
Her arms were a flailing maelstrom as she ranted, oblivious to the leers coming from Alexander, and even Archer. The Servant was surprised to see a Master more insufferable than his own.
How self-righteous is this woman? It was just a question, a reasonable one at that. She must have a bizarre code of ethics if this is enough to set her off...
"This isn't a game we're playing. When you chose to be a magus, you accepted responsibilities to defend its secrets from destruction. And even then, if this War bothered you so much, you could have refused! But you're here. You're here when you could have just gone back home. You accepted the call, and in some way you wanted to be here. It's all on you now.The time for second thoughts is already behind you. Buck up, and accept that, or die. Those were your only options once you walked through the doors to this church."
She turned back, averting her eyes from the boy, seemingly annoyed more than pleased with her spiel. Rider was tactfully trying to apologize to Saber with a few hand motions. Archer felt sick to his stomach watching the girl pick on that boy like that. He looked to his Master for agreement.
"The nerve of that child..." But to his surprise Alexander looked as stoic as always.
"Perhaps she was harsh," mused the magus. "But her words are not untrue. None of us were forced to be here. We all have our duty to defend Magic from destruction, but we are volunteers nonetheless. That boy has none to blame but himself for being here. He must cope with his choices."
As Matt finished speaking, silence filled the church for a few seconds. The cold, hard kind, that even pins would go out of their way to avoid breaking.
However, like most periods of peace or quiet, it couldn't remain whole forever.
"Why should... What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"
As Rider's Master suddenly lashed out, her words laced with venom and fury, Matt reflexively flinched back. Luckily, the girl seemed content to simply snarl and rant; she at least had the decency to keep the exchange limited to verbal barbs. "How about because you were asked?! And because you accepted!"
As she shouted at him, the young magus found himself unable to get a word in edgewise. The girl wasn't pulling any of her (thankfully non-physical) punches (seriously, she looked like she could just rip his head off if she wanted to), and there was no way he could find the resolve, let alone volume, to talk over her. All he could do was wait until she ran out of steam, until she had no more bile to hurl his way.
When she finally did, however, Matt didn't waste much time replying.
"When I chose to be a... Tell me, Master of Rider, what's your last name? What's your family history, that you were able to choose to be a magus?" He didn't bother to look at the girl as he spoke. The floor beneath him was far more interesting, and far less likely to intimidate him into silence with its piercing gaze. Nor did he pace about or gesticulate; his knees were firmly locked in place (the only way to keep them from trembling), and his hands slowly made their way into his jacket pockets. One of them wrapped around his watch gripping the cold, hard steel frame until it dug painfully into his palm. "My family likes to say that a magus is already half-dead. And make no mistake, I am, in fact, a magus. So I'm already dying. That's just a fact."
He didn't bother to raise his voice. His tone was the same quiet, almost timid one that he had addressed Ruler in. His words carried no reproach, no condescension. He was speaking plainly evident truths, after all; there was no need to force emotion into his words.
"You're wrong when you say I have a responsibility to protect magic's secrets. Or, at least, you're wrong when you say I have an obligation to protect this one. Heaven's Feel never belonged to my family; why should I risk my life, already half-gone, in an attempt to save it for someone else?"
He was afraid, there was no denying that. Simply being here, in this building, surrounded by beings of incredible power terrified him. So how much worse was it for him, actually voicing his thoughts for all to hear?
"My odds of surviving this War are painfully low; I knew that from day one. But, if I had even the slightest chance of winning it, of actually gaining access to even a fraction of the Grail's power, then it would undoubtedly be worth it. However, now there is absolutely no chance of that occurring. And any knowledge that I could glean from this War, whether by studying the Third Magic, the Grail, or even by trying to understand the magecraft of you and the other Masters... There is no guarantee that it would outweigh a lifetime of study and research. Research that won't place me in a situation where death is all but assured. Therefore, risking my life in this War for no reward is a foolish course of action."
Yet somehow, he managed to stand there, not backing up a single step. His voice was quiet, his knees were locked into place, his eyes were focused on the ground beneath him... But he still managed to keep talking, to keep explaining his reasoning.
"I have an obligation to my family, to keep its knowledge, increase it, and pass it onto the next generation. I came here believing that this would give me a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to increase it, but I see now that this is not the case. So." Finally, he moved his head, ever so slightly. Just enough to stare at Ruler out of the corner of his eye. "I ask again, why should I-"
"Enough."
Matt's words caught in his throat, and the boy almost choked on them. As a slight trembling overtook his hands, he slowly turned his gaze, over towards the one who had spoken. Over to his Servant, Saber.
Gods, he hadn't considered how she would feel. He was effectively saying that he wanted to abandon her, wasn't he? That he valued his own existence more than her own? If he angered her, how would she react? Would she threaten him? Try to harm him? He had the Commend Spells, of course, but could he really afford to use one now?
Though she was plainly addressing him, the swordswoman hadn't bothered to turn around to face him. He could tell that her expression was neutral, without any strong emotion present, but the icy venom in her voice made it clear what she was feeling. "If you don't want to stay, then don't. Leave, and go back to whatever peaceful life makes you happy."
He couldn't help but cringe slightly at that last word.
"But," she continued, ignoring his reflexive movement, "don't forget your obligation to me. If you don't want to remain my Master, then find someone who will be. Ensure that I have a way to continue existing, and you can leave. Because I don't give a damn if my Master wants to fight or not. But if you dare threaten my chance to fight..."
She didn't finish the sentence. Nor did she have to. His imagination was more than sufficient to supply any number of unpleasant possibilities.
But even without her unfinished threat...
Guilt began to pour through the magus' veins. Even if she was just a magical construct, Saber still had emotions and a personality. She was more than a simple animal-turned-familiar, she was a (admittedly imperfect) Heroic Spirit. Ultimately, she was just as human as he was. What was more, she had the decency to answer his summons. Did he really have what it took to simply forget their Pact and abandon her?
Ruler didn?t have to wait long before the first question was posed. It also wasn?t surprising that it had been asked by Daria. The fiery woman had almost challenged the Servant with her query, as if daring him to answer incorrectly at his peril. She was an eager one, to be sure, though he wondered if it was for the wrong reasons. The Servant waved his doubts away, knowing that in the end it would be for the correct ones.
?When do we meet our opponents? You said it?s a war, right? I?d like to know who I?m fighting.?
?Eager to get ourselves killed, are we?? Ruler questioned, chuckling afterwards. ?My brothers and sisters would have approved of you, Daria Orihara.?
He then noticed some hesitation in the girl before him. He raised an eyebrow, wondering what had distracted her conviction in getting her answer. It wasn?t long before he noticed that her gaze was squarely on his own Master. It puzzled the Servant for a moment why she would hold such an interest on the girl. Had they not expected him to have a Master? He still had to abide by the standard rules of being a Servant, for the most part. It seemed so obvious to him he had never considered it to be a possible wonderment. Then it hit him. Of course Daria would know his Master. Her brother was one Detective Dirk Orihara, who had many connections with powerful magi in this area, despite the infamy his family seemed to garner. It wouldn?t be unusual for her to have met his Master at a previous engagement. It would be a dynamic the master of ceremonies would need to keep his eye on. At the moment the two snapped out of their recollections simultaneously and began staring each other down once more.
?Well??
?Daria Orihara, I am certain the other side is wondering the exact same thing. It wouldn?t be very sporting if I just gave you their identities, now would it? I?m afraid you will need to search for those answers yourselves. I hear Riders are particularly adept at reconnaissance.?
?Mr. Ruler, sir, what are the exact rules for this competition, if any??
?My sincerest apologies, Machiko Tsukino,? Ruler said, almost a whisper compared to his regular speaking voice but still strong enough for everyone else to hear. ?I sometimes forget that some of us aren?t as well versed in magi culture as the rest. The question couldn?t be more valid, however, considering the nature of this conflict. There are a few nuances that we may want to go over.?
?The first and arguably the most important is your objective. You must kill every Servant of the opposite faction to be victorious. Unlike the normal stipulations of a Grail War in which seven Servants must be sacrificed, the first seven will not suffice if they are not all of the same side. This does mean that so long as one Servant is still standing upon your team, you are still eligible to obtain a wish from the Holy Grail.?
?The second is that this war shall remain a secret to all outside of magi society. Under no circumstances should an outsider be made aware of magi society as a whole, let alone one of its most sacred rituals. For this reason you must use discretion lest the task of permanently silencing the breach be placed upon you. I would hope that those who aim to redeem the Holy Grail would choose to higher road of the two. This rule, of course, no longer applies to you, Machiko Tsukino?
He could visibly see the tension bleed out of the teenager that had built up as he recited that particular rule.
?Third is the role of the Servant. As the ritual suggests, they are your sword, your will made manifest in this war zone. Though they may never realize their full potential in this war, they are still much grander than anything you alone could accomplish. They are faster, stronger and more durable than at least ten men or women, if not more. They have a myriad of skills that they have developed or honed throughout their lives from surviving mortal wounds to concealing ones presence from magical scrying. Above all, however, are the Noble Phantasms each Servant possesses, relics of ages long past who?s power has been long lost by the dilution of time. Their powers are extraordinary and it is a wise Master who can utilize their Servant?s abilities to the fullest.?
?The fourth is your personal role as Masters. You are the anchor of your Servant ? their tether to this world. Without your pact they would simply dissolve and return to the Throne of Heroes. You are their tactical adviser, providing information about the Servants they face through the magic of the Grail. You should already be capable of viewing your allies? parameters if you focus, as well as their class designated skill. As you witness skills and Noble Phantasms your knowledge will expand and be permanently visible, which you may then attempt to share with others to expand their knowledge. You are their squire, lending aid in whatever manner you are able. Above all, you are their guardian. As much as a Servant?s duty is to care for you, you are responsible for their life as well. The goal is to eliminate all Servants and so you must be wary of how hard you push your hero.?
?As mentioned before, you are now apart of a team rather than fighting as individuals. Each team is comprised of the seven Servant classes, one of each card drawn per side. The seven here,? he grunted with effort as a gentle wave of prana washed over the room, changing the colour of each Masters? Command Spells from a blood red to a snow white, ?are of team White. Your opponents are of team Black. Co-ordination is now key with each Servant?s drawbacks having the potential to be covered by another?s strengths. Be mindful of this at all times.?
?Finally-?
?I?I don?t understand. You?re saying that the Grail is corrupted, right? That we need to win and use its power to fix it? So?Why are we even fighting? You talked about another faction; why would we need to fight them if this is the only way to fix the Grail??
?A perfectly reasonable question, Matthew Heller. I was just about to-? Ruler started before Matthew?s musings began once more and silenced the Servant.
?And also? If we need to forfeit our right to the Grail, even if we win?then why should I risk my life??
This didn?t seem to sit well with the so far gentle giant. His expression soured into a frown almost instantly. He knew Matt was a fairly meek individual, however the Servant had hoped the responsibility of the war would have given him some conviction. As it stood, the boy simply questioned what his prize was at the end of the tunnel. It was a poor way to look at the situation, as far as Ruler was concerned, considering the practical experience the boy could gain from participating. Few would ever have the chance to experience the Third Magic first hand and yet that wasn?t enough. He couldn?t blame the magus but he couldn?t forgive the remark either. With a sigh that sounded far more put off than he had intended, Ruler looked back at the boy to give him his answer.
?Matthew Heller-?
Again Ruler began to address the boy in what one could only assume would be some stirring yet verbose speech before being cut off by none other than Daria Orihara. Her impetuous nature seemed to be getting the better of her this evening as she began a tirade on how Mr. Heller was obligated to join the war and insult his honour as a magus. Ruler?s eyes narrowed and his Master chose to shy away from the spirit, latching onto Father Matthias instead. These magi were beginning to wear away at the adjudicator?s peaceful demeanor and truly scratch the surface of his warrior spirit.
?This is not an open discussion, Daria Oriha-?
Yet again he was interrupted by a calculating Matthew, trying to defend his position to his hot headed teammate. Ruler closed his eyes, trying to compose himself and urge his anger to simmer. They were simply children; mere mortal children at that. Their comprehension of the greater workings of this world was terribly limited in scope. Had they the experience and foresight of a Heroic Spirit?
?Enough!?
Ruler snapped his head to focus on Saber the moment she had opened her mouth. What he was witnessing was absolutely incredulous. Did she seriously have the gall to chew out her Master? For Ruler it seemed unthinkable to question your superiors yet Saber seemed to have no trouble giving Matt a very flippant response to his line of reason. The Servant looked ready to explode with a fury unknown as he continued to soak in each syllable that Saber chose to poison with her treacherous tongue. By the end the spirit was gripping the lectern so tightly the bolts fastening it to the floor were beginning to shake loose.
"I. have. HEARD. ENOUGH!!!" Ruler bellowed, the unspoken insinuation to be quiet not needing to be overtly recognized.
His voice was so thunderous it shook the very foundations of the church. Dust that had settled into the rafters now clouded and trickled down to the floor. The large man began stepping towards the fourteen he had gathered, making his way towards both Matthew and Saber with earthshaking, painfully slow steps. His eyes were fixated on them both, now alight in a eerily splendorous teal, showing a vast power hidden beneath his kind hearted exterior. There was a great beast dwelling within that was now clawing to be released and the trio had just yanked on its chain just one too many times.
"You, girl," he commanded as his left hand pointed towards Daria, "I would suggest you hold your useless tongue before what little patience I have left evaporates and I am driven to drive my fingers so far into your skull that you will feel what little grey matter has not been beaten out of it by your inept teacher ooze out until you are nothing more than the worthless waste of life you have so far demonstrated yourself to be!"
"And you, Matthew Heller," he cried, his left hand switching targets, "need to learn of the greater world around you before mouthing off as if you know everything. What knowledge do you have to gain from an artifact that will consume your very soul once you have obtained it? What nugget of truth is the worth the damnation of an entire country? Can you answer me that!? You have already accepted your fate by entering this church and summoning your Servant. The pact has been made and unlike any other war, there is no turning back. You may choose to leave but you may never choose to quit until your dying breath."
"As for those who are far too base to show civility..."
Ruler was now standing mere steps from where Saber was standing, eyes locked furiously onto his own with a practiced steel. She was ready for any sort of verbal assault this so called judge could throw at her, yet Ruler had no intention of doing so. Instead came a furious right hook, so quick and unexpected that it connected squarely with Saber's jaw. The sound that echoed through the halls upon impact was greater than a bullet train driving full force into a concrete wall. Saber could barely keep herself from falling outright, being forced to one knee and turned away from her assailant. Ruler simply flexed his fingers once, looking downwards to her hunched figure with the same hollow stare his glowing eyes created.
Saber could only grin foolishly at her predicament. She hadn't dreamed of her first opponent being the referee for these silly games but that suited her just fine. As she had told Matt before she was here to fight, to whatever glorious or bitter end it led her down. Spitting out a small pool of blood that had began to form inside her mouth, the Servant wiped her lips clean with the back of her hand before address her combative counterpart.
"...Heh, I didn't think anybody was more eager to start than me. But hey, if you insist-" the woman said in an even tone before the force of her conviction bled into her words, "-then I'd be more than happy to oblige!"
The woman quickly turned on her feet with all the speed and strength she could muster. In a flash she had already turned about and was lunging towards Ruler with arms outstretched. She aimed to get within his guard and form a clench, then show him the true power of her superior wrestling techniques. No man had ever bested her in a feat of strength and she wasn't about to let that reputation be sullied by some pompous jerk who got hurt after a few harsh words.
Unfortunately for her, Ruler was far more prepared for her retaliation than she had been for his thrown punch. The Servant easily side-stepped the clench, leading her past him with his left hand while winding up the right. Another wrecking ball of a punch came barreling down into the back of Saber's head, following through completely until her face was driven into the floor boards below. Another loud crack resounded in a cacophonous sound throughout the church as Ruler stood back up from one knee after his devastating strike. That pitiless look was all he afforded her, using his foot to turn her over. The woman looked completely dazed, an indent of broken boards where he face had been driven into them. It would be a thankless task yet it had needed to be done.
"This is not some mere blood sport for your amusement," Ruler began, now looking back up at the thirteen still surrounding him. "Nor is it a chance to gain approval of those closest to you. It is not a time of hero worship or some foolish competition to prove your mettle. Not a path to freedom or one to a better tomorrow. Nor the opportunity for one to gain legitimacy, lost or otherwise. It is far greater than any of you; of all of you. It is a chance to correct a wrong that you, mankind, have created -- to free the path to Akasha once more. Should you fail, the corruption your sins have caused would consume this link, forever destroying the Grail and blocking off your world from Akasha and the Third Magic."
"So you have a choice. Either you may quarrel amongst each other and watch as your own putrification of this world once again limits your possibilities, or you may choose to set aside your desires and work towards a cause far more noble than a simple battle..." he paused for a moment as he turned his head to stare at Saber for but a moment, "...daughter of Esctheow."
The behemoth of a spirit then walked away from the crowd of people, back towards his Master. If they couldn't put aside their foolish sins of greed, pride, envy and wrath, what good were they to begin with? Yet he saw something in each, for years he had watched them like a caring father and watched their gifts blossom. They needed to reach down inside and find them, their true strengths, and harness that power from within. Much like a father, he couldn't do that for them, no matter how much he wished to have that ability and it vexed him dearly.
"For ten years I have watched each of you. For ten long years I have awaited this chance to right a wrong that should never have existed. What say you, Masters of the Grail -- shall you accept your fate or be slain in cold blood?"
"I would suggest you hold your useless tongue before what little patience I have left evaporates and I am driven to drive my fingers so far into your skull that you will feel what little grey matter has not been beaten out of it by your inept teacher ooze out until you are nothing more than the worthless waste of life you have so far demonstrated yourself to be!"
Ruler continued on his tirade--and his painful deconstruction of Saber--without even glancing at the girl again. But Daria, quieter than ever, stood in place, eyes fixated on the man, processing his insult. Moments passed, and her body grew less still, shaking with building heat until there was no way to contain it any longer. She opened her mouth and bellowed, for the first time that night showing genuine anger. "You... You arrogant sonuva-- you can't talk about my brother like that you worthless piece of--"
She was about ready to charge him. To charge the man that had just clobbered Saber like it was nothing. But her own suicide was prevented by Rider, who swiftly shoved an arm in her path. She glared at the man, barely any larger than her, and was ready to start spewing threats at him next. But her rage was interrupted by confusion, seeing a shadow over the peaceful-looking fellow's face. An uncomfortably sober look for him. "Stay back, Master. You've already done enough for one night."
"Get out of my way, Rider, didn't you hear what he said about my brother?!"
"No, actually, I didn't." A slight frown tugged his lips. "After he threatened you, I'm afraid I could only hear static."
He gently pushed Daria back and stepped forward, snapping his fingers. From a golden portal snaked a long length of ornate chain, coiling around his arm as he began to wind it up for a toss. "Anyone who has the nerve to insult my Master is clearly of no great intellect. Because for that... I'm going to rip that mongrel's heart out."
He stated it so simply, and calmly, that Daria knew he fully meant to kill Ruler right there. Of course, how could she forget? Even if he was the humbler of the two, Enkidu was the equal of Gilgamesh, and killed gods for lesser slights. She could only tremble thinking what rage she might be seeing if the other Hero were standing here instead. But no rage was to be witnessed tonight. Archer stepped into Rider's path, earning a surprised look from his Master.
"Out of my way, Archer."
"N...no." Archer stood fast, and puffed out his chest. Sweat on every inch of his skin glistened in the light of the church.
Oh gods oh gods oh gods save me
"You're wasting your time, Rider. Ruler's not the enemy!"
"My enemies are who I choose. Step aside, or you shall become one as well." Rider was of a different countenance when angered. Gone was the friendly, childish man his Master had met, replaced by a warrior to the core.
"We're all a team," insisted the smaller Servant. "And that means we need to have the same goals! If your Master means so much to you, don't endanger her War by pursuing enemies you could avoid."
Rider took a step closer... then hesitated. Glancing back at Daria, who was watching him silently, he sighed. The foolish boy's face returned. "I guess I'd only be wasting my energy." The chains disappeared from his arms, and he turned to walk back to his Master. "Thank you, Archer," he called back. He met Daria's face, then dropped his eyes in shame. "I'm sorry, Master. I let my anger get the better of me... would you have preferred that I fought him?"
"Kinda," she said grinning. "But it was still pretty cool watching you get all dangerous-looking like that. Any chance of a repeat performance?"
"Well, keep egging on everyone we meet and it's bound to happen eventually."
The Master and Servant chatted idly, their anger forgotten. Archer returned to Alexander's side, who he noticed smiling at him. "W-what?" asked the more timid of the two.
"You did very well, preventing a pointless battle. I'm glad my judgment was sound permitting you the auxiliary roles of our partnership."
Archer was admittedly surprised at how quickly his Master had turned a compliment of his Servant into a compliment of himself--but figured it was the best he was going to get, and accepted the praise with a nod. Ruler was standing again before them, asking them to declare their allegiance.
"What say you, Masters of the Grail -- shall you accept your fate or be slain in cold blood?"
A little grim, thought Archer, but both he and his Master spoke in unison. "We accept."
"This is not some mere blood sport for your amusement."
Ruler's voice sounded funny as it wafted through Saber's ears. Distant, tinny, like he was standing at the far end of a mile-long tunnel, and she was only hearing the fading echo of his words. She could hear him well enough to make out what he was saying, but it took her a bit to piece it together, to figure out what the sounds meant when they were arranged like that.
Planting an open palm on the broken floorboards, the Servant slowly pushed herself up, first to her knees and then finally to her feet. The movement felt stiff and awkward, and caused a brief flash of pain to lance through her already aching head. Still, she managed to keep standing, and rapidly blinked away the pain and dullness clouding her senses.
She could hear Ruler prattling on behind her, going on and on about how he'd been stalking the Masters for years now and how they were all worthless ingrates for not immediately going along with his plan. She could see the floor beneath her, caved in by something that looked suspiciously like her head. And she could feel a few drops of blood sliding across her forehead, although the sensation quickly faded as her body naturally repaired itself.
Huh. Apparently she's been beaten. How about that.
"What say you, Masters of the Grail -- shall you accept your fate or be slain in cold blood?"
"Heh. Heheh. Hahahahahahahaha~!"
Saber's laughter cut through the air, loud and hearty enough to echo throughout the entire church. Genuine joy and mirth filled her voice, overpowering her naturally rough mannerisms and spreading her face into an earnest grin. She even clapped a few times, her body simply needing another way to express the enthusiasm flooding through its veins.
"You got me, didn't you!?" Saber accused Ruler excitedly, spinning around to face the green-armored giant. "Well, isn't that just one hell of a first! You didn't even have to use your weapons either, you just straight up beat me senseless! Nice one!"
There was no malice in the swordswoman's words or actions as she strode forward, clearing the distance between her and Ruler with two quick paces. Raising an arm, she affectionately clapped the other Servant on the shoulder with enough strength to break a mortal body in two. "Hehe, alright then! You want my loyalty, you've got it. I'll fight your damned War, and I'll make sure we win it too." Letting go of Ruler's shoulder, Saber began to pace away, her energized words still filling the church with her exuberance. "So long as you give the rematch everything you've got, I won't have any complaints."
Letting her challenge hang in the air, Saber made her way over to her Master. Even his less than satisfactory behavior couldn't tarnish her elation at this point, and she wrapped an overly friendly arm around his shoulders (thankfully making sure to keep her strength in check this time around. "So, what's it gonna be, boy? Are you going to fight, or going to run away?"
Saber peered at her Master as he tried to stutter out a response, watching as his trembling body tried to find the resolve to spit out an answer. "I, I-I... I don't... I-"
Huh. Apparently Ruler's little fit wasn't helping the kid. Turning to face the Servant in question, Saber offered him a cheeky grin. "Heh, this one might have to take a while before getting back to you. I'll make sure he does."
Then, there were only really two other people who needed to be addressed. "Hey," the swordswoman continued, glancing over at the now-silent priest and deacon, "sorry about your floor. Anything I could do to help patch it up?" Even if she was infinitely more skilled with a blade than with hammer and nail, Saber knew it'd be rude of her not to offer to fix the damaged floorboards. This was the clergymen's home, after all; what kind of guest would she be if she left them to deal with her problems?
"But her words are not untrue. None of us were forced to be here. We all have our duty to defend Magic from destruction, but we are volunteers nonetheless. That boy has none to blame but himself for being here. He must cope with his choices."
The words rung in Yuri's ears during the... well, he was hesitant to even call it a debate. It was a just shouting and violence, where Ruler reigned supreme as the strongest and the loudest. He forgot for a moment, these people had chosen this life. The pitiful one was a reminder of that, if nothing else. He briefly considered taking Saber, she would do well with his prana backing her.
"Wrong, Alexander. Only in a perfect world do we have choice." Yuri muttered bitterly, more to himself than the giant. He doubted he heard him, as Rider sprung into action. Yuri couldn't help but respect him, even if he didn't carry through. Archer as well, for standing in the way of a force like Rider. Cassius paid some attention, though the whole event only made her realize the several discipline problems the team faced. Bad.
His speech seemed less inspirational, more just trying to anger them into fighting. A good enough approach as any, though it didn't seem to be working with Matt.
"For ten years I have watched each of you. For ten long years I have awaited this chance to right a wrong that should never have existed. What say you, Masters of the Grail -- shall you accept your fate or be slain in cold blood?"
"My answer has never wavered, Ruler. I will fight till I break and breath my last." The coldness and matter of factness of his tone was slightly chilling, and one could see his knuckles turn white as he gripped his sword. He just wanted to get this over with so the true fighting could begin.
"Kill myself on your sword or fight a war I have a good chance of winning? My answer is obvious, I stand by my partner, and all you brave enough to stand with us." She smiled at Matt and nodded, even if he was a bit shy he was at least smart. They could use a bit more brain on the team.
Much like the speech, Clay watched on with silence as Saber and Rider's Masters were lectured by Ruler, his voice beginning to betray his rising annoyance and anger. It would seem his initial assessments on both counts held at least some merit - the boy would need to gather some genuine conviction if he wanted to survive a Grail War, and Daria had just demonstrated she had no real control over her temper. A shame, really - he had expected more from Orihara's protege.
When Rider stepped forward, however, his expression betraying his killing intent, a small mote of alarm shot through Clay's body. 'Shit. Put your pride aside, Rider - Ruler isn't an enemy, and he certainly isn't somebody you can fight and expect to defeat.' He almost stepped forward, ready to order Lancer to action... until Archer did the unexpected and beat him to the punch.
"And that means we need to have the same goals! If your Master means so much to you, don't endanger her War by pursuing enemies you could avoid." Clay breathed a sigh of relief when Rider saw reason backed down, turning to console his Master. For the first time in a long time, Clay was happy to be wrong - it would seem Archer had something resembling a spine. Not only that, he was well spoken, if a bit timid.
Ruler continued his tirade, clearly not happy at being party to so many threats and disrespects to his authority. "This is not some mere blood sport for your amusement, nor is it a chance to gain approval of those closest to you. It is not a time of hero worship or some foolish competition to prove your mettle. Not a path to freedom or one to a better tomorrow." Clay supposed that last one was directed at him. Did Ruler honestly think he was in this because he wanted to use the Grail? HIM, of all people? Clenching his fist with a growing frown, Clay had to work to restrain his resurgent temper. Now wasn't the place to make a scene, especially towards somebody as dangerous as Ruler.
"What say you, Masters of the Grail -- shall you accept your fate or be slain in cold blood?" His teeth grinding together, Clay leveled a cold glare at Ruler. "What do you think, Ruler? I didn't spend the last ten years preparing to back out because one of my supposed teammates are having cold feet."
Lancer, for his part, responded with a grin. "Oh man, I envy you, Ruler! Making him mad, and he can't do anything about it!" He cackled for a moment before continuing. "My answer is yes, by the way. To the embracing of fate or whatever. Letting the world end now seems so... boring."
This site uses cookies to help personalise content, tailor your experience and to keep you logged in if you register.
By continuing to use this site, you are consenting to our use of cookies.