The real hero is always a hero by mistake

[Crowe Burst]

;He dreams of being an honest coward like everybody else.
-Umberto Eco
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Crowe stands before the finished circle. Smiling after a hard day's work, he figured he could postpone the actual summoning tomorrow.

Looking around the bare room, he sighed.

"I guess I'll just sleep on the floor, then."

As he lay down the floor, his eyes, refusing to close, looked at the ceiling. He stared at the ceiling for who knows how long, then turned to his side.

"Sleep." He muttered.

He closed his eyes. He opened his eyes. Again. And again. And again.

"Gah, I give up." He stood up, looked at the bare room, walked towards the only other room (besides, of course, the bathroom) , and opened the door.

"Figures." He muttered as his eyes saw that the room was empty too.

Slamming the door, he went outside his flat.

He looked at the stars. He took out his lucky coin, and flipped it.

"Tails, huh? I lost. Typical." Sitting down on the stoop, he took out a bag of half full (Or is it half empty?) chips and started munching. "They're not crispy anymore..." He mused. Still, he ate it without a word.

After he's done he stood up, looked up the stars one last time, flipped a coin again, lost again, and went back inside.

He rummaged inside his bag and found his catalyst, a sword, one of those things you found in a treasure or something. It is said it was from the vault of one of those rich dirtbags from the snowy land of snow land. Russia, methinks, he thought to himself.

He placed the sword in its proper place.

"Might as well get over this."

It's time, it begins.

"Ye first, O silver, O iron. O stone of the foundation, O Archduke of the Contract. Hear me in the name of our great teacher, the Archmagus Schweinorg.

Let the descending winds be as a wall. Let the gates in all directions be shut, rising above the crown, and let the three-forked roads to the Kingdom revolve.

Shut. Shut. Shut. Shut. Shut. Five perfections for each repetition. And now, let the filled sigils be annihilated in my stead!

Let thy body rest under my dominion, and let my fate rest in thy blade. If thou submittest to the call of the Holy Grail, and if thou wilt obey this mind, this reason... then thou shalt respond.

I make my oath here; I am the person who is to become the virtue of all Heavens. I am that person who is covered with the evil of all Hades. Thou seven heavens... clad in a trinity of words, come past thy restraining rings. Be thou the hands that protect the balance!"

The light enveloped the bare room, Crowe, tries to make out the figure...

[Ivan Tsarevich]

The figure that stepped forward, emerging from the light, was not the first thing that would come to mind when one thought of a hero of the ancient past...a fairy tale prince, maybe, but no mighty warrior. It was a young man, no older than twenty, of an average or maybe even scrawny build. He looked to have never seen any real combat in his life, his blue eyes sparkling cheerfully.

He certainly wasn't dressed for combat, either. He wore a royal blue tunic over a white collared shirt and tan trousers, which were tucked in to forest green boots. His brightly-colored ensemble didn't stop there, as a long, crimson cape was draped from his shoulders, fastened with a golden buckle. And as if this weren't all ridiculous looking enough, he wore a wide-brimmed hat of a matching red, a golden, glowing feather tucked into the band.

The newly-summoned Servant streched and yawned, as if he were merely waking up from a sleep of several hundred years. After he finished yawning, he looked at his hands with wonder.

"Well! Looks like I'm alive again!"

And then his eyes wandered from his hands to the summoning circle, and what lay in the center.

"My sword!"

Grinning, he quickly bent over to pick up the blade.

"Aw, man! This must be my lucky day...Oh! Hiyah!"

Finally, the Servant noticed his master. Leaning on his sword, he gave a bow, taking off his hat as he did, revealing his brown hair, which somehow managed to look both perfectly styled and like messy bedhead at the same time.

"How do you do? I'm the Servant Rider. I'm guessing you're my Master, right?"

[Crowe Burst]

Crowe's eyes rested on the jolly figure that appeared thanks to the ritual.

Jolly...well, that certainly was a word fit for the man, no, kid standing in front of him right now. But of course, looks can be deceiving, as if the ritual was correct, he's standing in front of a legendary hero, a Heroic Spirit, one who did mighty deeds.

The ritual...yes, the ritual. It had been a success, or maybe not, Crowe thought as he looked on the red guy as he picked up the sword.

However, the boy did indeed confirm that he was a servant, a servant from the Rider class.

Well, that's fine and dandy. If what little information he got was right, Riders are classes that...well, ride. Supposedly, they have legendary mounts that crash and burn through enemies.

Crowe scratched his chin. Well? Who the hell was he? Russian mounts...well, a tank is only thing that comes to his mind, but no, if anything, a tank mount isn't something he'll imagine a Russian will have. Maybe a German or an American.

How about a dragon? Fierce creatures, they are, but Crowe cannot recall any Russian dragons.

He shrugged his shoulders. Ah, what the hell.

"Yeah...welcome to your base of operations, Rider. As you can see, there is nothing here." Crowe gestures towards the room. Indeed, there's not a thing in there...well, except a bag where the catalyst was stored. "None. No lighting either. Electricity's too expensive."

"Oh yeah. Name's Crowe Burst. Just call me Crowe. Not master, it gives me the creeps."

[Ivan Tsarevich]

Rider gave a grin as he stood out of his bow and replaced his hat.

"Splendid! Nice to meet ya, Crowe!" He said cheerfully, before looking the empty room over. "So, this is our base, huh? Kinda empty, huh? I guess furniture can be kind of expensive..." he trailed off a bit as he thought, tapping his chin, before giving a shrug. "I could probably get us some money, y'know. I was rich once! It's kinda like riding a horse, I think. You never really forget how to be rich!" He paused. "...well, that doesn't really make sense. What I mean to say is I sorta have a good sense for money, and come across it easily enough. If that makes sense?"

The young servant plopped down, sitting crosslegged on the floor, his cape managing to drop gracefully around him instead of ending up under his behind.

"I mean, you gotta admit, it'd probably be nice to have furniture. And lighting. And where do you keep your food? Do you even get food? I think food's sort of essential, we'll need to get some of that, too. Well, I mean, I'm a Servant, I don't particularly need food, but...I'd still like to have it every so often! Oh, and vodka! Vodka is also nice to have. Can you get vodka around here? I bet Grey would know, he's pretty smart."

Ivan paused, looking like he had just remembered something incredibly important.

"Oh! Speaking of! Mind if I summon Grey? He could probably help us figure out how to get some money. Like I said, he's pretty smart!"

[Crowe Burst]

He listened with fading attention. This things were inevitable, he thought. Everyone who worked with him had some complaint with his...lifestyle. Well, they better get used to it.

Now, he thinks. Thinking about the other 6 people in the game. Of course, as the master of Servant Rider, he has the most mobile Servant. So he quickly made patrol routes through the city with his mind, what route would cover the most area and still be in time for dinner. Like he had dinner.

Speaking of dinner, he needed to find a source of income, quick. A job. Something he could use, though. What kind of job would be useful? Well, his enemies would probably be highly known, competent magus. However, everyone in theory could join, ("I mean, I got in") so he still needs to be quite alert. So, what kind of job would be useful then?

As he ponders this his ears picked up the words [blue] "I could probably get us some money", "get food?" and "vodka" [/blue] He turned his attention back to his Servant.

"Right, whatever helps, Rider." He paused, trying to remember what his Servant was saying. "Oh, right. Wait. You can help me with my money problems, huh?" He smiled widely. "Great! This is gonna be a great partnership, Rider."

He picked up his bag, figuring how much would it cost if he sold it. While examining the bag, he talked on. "Yeah, you can summon whoever you want. And right, before I forget, who're you again? You sound Russian."

[Ivan Tsarevich]

"Great!" Ivan grinned, before and tossing his hat like a frisbee, and it came to gently rest on a wayward nail sticking out of the wall. He turned to his Master as he asked his identity. "Oh! Sorry, I probably should've introduced myself! Call me Ivan! Prince Ivan, Ivan Tsarevich, Ivan the Fool. I've been known by all of these names."

After giving a quick bow, he turned his attention back to some empty space in the room (not that that was particularly difficult to find). He looked at the floor a bit, furrowing his brow in concentration, then held out his hands, waggling his fingers as he simply said "Grey Wolf!"

There was a flash of bright light, not unlike the kind that had heralded Ivan's own arrival, and when it faded, in its place stood a fearsome figure. A wolf, standing almost as tall as a horse, its bushy grey and white fur just serving to make it look larger. It stood there with its eyes closed.

"Grey!" Ivan said excitedly. The wolf's ear twitched, and it turned its head towards Ivan, slowly opening its eyes. What looked to be a grin spread along the wolf's muzzle, sharp teeth on display.

"Ivan."


Ivan laughed, running to the wolf and throwing his arms around its thick neck, hugging it tightly. "It's so good to see you, Grey~! It's been so, so, so long!"


"Yes, yes." The wolf replied in his deep, gravelly voice. "It's nice to see you too, Ivan... so tell me, who's this?"

The two turned their attention toward Crowe.

"Oh!" Ivan removed his arms from the Wolf. "Grey, this is my Master! Our Master, I guess. Master, this is Grey! He's amazing! He's fast and really smart and he can change shapes!"

The wolf nodded his head towards the Master in an approximation of a bow. "A pleasure."

[Crowe Burst]

Well. That's just great, my bag has a hole. I'll never sell this now. Or maybe I could remove the...

The flashing light, like the one that summoned his servant, took his attention. When it the lightshow was over, a big wolf, with it eyes closed, has appeared. His servant called the beast "Grey", and to his slight surprise, the wolf spoke, and nodded his head towards him.

Well, IT is true.In truth, he half expected for Traia to burst in the room and say that "you just got tricked" or words to that effect. Well, it's true, so time to get serious. He examines his "hand", to know his "cards".

First, a wolf that shapeshifts, how nice. If he can keep him out indefinitely for long times, that's even nicer. Even nicer would be if he can do something else besides shapeshifting. A talking shapeshifting wolf is cool and all, but we're going to face legendary heroes here. They deal with that kind of shit everyday.

He decided he's not gonna ask that for now, though, (partly out of fear of the wolf, partly out of fear of the answer) so he's just gonna ask about the man himself.

Ivan the fool, huh? Crowe tries to remember what he knows about him...

...

...

...

...Wow, nothing. Might as well ask, he thought.

"Hmm... Say, Rider, I'm not really familiar with your story, see. So before this bites me in the ass, mind sharing if you got some sort of fatal flaw, like that guy Achilles and his heel? Wait, was that Achilles or was that the other guy?"

[Ivan Tsarevich]

"Fatal flaw?"

Ivan tilted his head like a confused puppy, thinking. Thinking hard. After a moment his face lit up, and he pointed his finger to the air as if he just had a revelation!

"Nope!"

Putting his hands at his hips, the Rider beamed, his grin practically lighting up the room.

"I'm happy to say that I died of old age. So don't worry, I don't have a big, glowy weakpoint for the enemy to poke at."

The wolf... chuckled? That's what that low, gravelly noise sounded like, anyway, before looking at Crowe. "He is, however, rather excitable, and not the best listener."

"'Scuse me! I am too a good listener!" Ivan pouted, pointing at Grey. "I just listened to you say something rude about me, for instance!"

"Ivan." The wolf looked back over his shoulder at the boy. "We'll have to be honest with our Master if we hope to survive."

"..."

Ivan pouted further, before letting out a big sigh.

"Yeah... sometimes I forget instructions. Like, a lot... But, hey! Let's not talk about that right now! Let's talk about..."

Ivan spun on his heel, before throwing his arms out, encompassing the room.

"This!"

"This?"

"This! The base! It's lacking!"

"Hrm. Yes, it does seem quite bare."

"Yeah! It needs, like, furniture! And lighting, and food, and vodka! Especially vodka!"

Ivan turned on his heel again, sitting down with a thump as Grey stepped over to sit in front of him. The young tsar looked up with a grin.

"So what we need is money! And I think between you and me, we can get it!"

"Hrm... yes..." The wolf's ears flicked as he furrowed his brow in thought. "We could always perform."

"Perform?"

"Yes. I could take the form of some foreign animal, say, a monkey of sorts. Then while you perform music, I could dance. Leave your hat down for collection, and we should be off to a decent start financially."

"Brilliant!" Ivan looked toward his master, grinning. "Ya hear that? It's brilliant, isn't it?"

[Crowe Burst]

Crowe listened intently.

His servant has no physical weakpoints, no fatal flaws to speak. That's very nice, thinks Crowe. People with difficult personalities, he can deal with, but a bullseye screaming "Hit me and I'll instantly die" he cannot. Then, Ivan started talking about gaining money.

Ah, yes. Good old money-hunting. Music to Crowe's ears. If anyone can earn money, a legendary hero can. Maybe this "Holy Grail War" thing ain't so bad after all.

Performing, though, might not be such a good idea. Ivan will be out in the open, and can be caught unawares by sneak attacks, probably coming from the 'Assassin' class. Or perhaps a long rage attack from the 'Archer' class? But of course, he's not gonna underestimate his own Servant's ability. And maybe perhaps, finding another servant may be good, in a way. Maybe he can find an ally? But knowing his luck, he'll probably find a bitter rival.

His servant is now sitting on the floor, talking about vodka. He sure likes his vodka, doesn't he. Well, he heard Russians liked vodka, but he always thought it was a stereotype...Well, vodka's good, so he won't complain about it.

"Trying to find money already, I like your style, Ivan."He looks around the room. "But performing...I'm not really against it, but are you sure you should be doing something like that out in the open? I mean, you know, we are on a sort of deadly battle royal, and an attack can come from anywhere."He pauses for a while, thinking. He REALLY needs money, though. "But if you're sure you can handle it, then I'd say it's a great idea! It's a bit dark outside, though, and it's a bad idea to be out this dark, since that's when magus usually come out to play. If you want, we can start tomorrow."


(If Ivan has nothing left to say or ask we can end the thread in your next post)

[Ivan Tsarevich]

"Hm?" Ivan looked up, tilting his head a bit at his Master's question. "Oh, it won't be a problem! I mean, what're the odds someone will come across me performing and try an' whack me?" The Servant grinned, getting on his feet and doing a bit of a spin arms wide. "Besiiiiiiiiiides!" He stopped, then pointed at the wolf. "Grey here can run really fast! It'll be easy to get away if we run into any sort of trouble. Which we won't! Thing's'll go alright, I can feel it!"

"As absurd as it may sound..." The wolf spoke up, his deep gravelly voice sharply contrasting Ivan's sing-song tone, "Ivan has a point. For some reason, things never seem to wrong around him; and when they do, not for long. It's baffling, really."

"Baffling, schmaffling! The world's just a great place! And great things happen! That's about it." Ivan plopped back on the ground. "We really need to get some chairs. So! Grey, let's start practicing right now! We'll go performing first thing in the mornin', so we'll need to get our routine down tonight. First things first... Turn into a monkey! Do it do it do it do it!"

The wolf blinked, then rolled his eyes. "You could at least pretend to value my dignity."

"Monkeys are so cool, though! They're like, tiny people. But fuzzy."

Muttering something under his breath, the wolf's body began to shrink, his face beginning to flatten and lose its fur, paws becoming humanoid hands. Finally, where a giant wolf had once stood, there was now a little monkey, complete with a tiny vest and fez.

"Oooh! That's great!" Ivan clapped his hands, grinning widely. "The hat's a nice touch."

"People seem to think animals in human clothing is adorable. Therefore, this should help get attention, and by extension, money."

"Perfect! Now, music..." Ivan frowned. "I'd love a flute or somethin', but it looks like we don't have one of those... Ah! I'll sing!"

And thus began a long night of traditional Russian songs accompanied by the sound of dancing monkey feet.