Day and Night

[Sigurd Fafnesbane]

[] I deliberately left out Alexandria in this post because I dunno what you'd want her to do. So she could be on the aqueduct, or she could be creeping around, or even riding a chopper. []

[Day 1, Dusk, 1730]

It was getting dark. The sun was setting, slowly dipping beneath the horizon. The skies were tinged a deep orange, the clouds trapping the last of the dying light. Off in the distance, one could see the faint purple heralding the night.

Servant Saber faintly took note of the shifting skies, feeling a brisk wind playing across his face, causing his unkempt hair to lightly ruffle in the breeze. He was not wearing his armor at the moment - it was, sadly, too noticeable in bright daylight. As a result, he was wearing a simple tan suit. Over his plain, white shirt, he also had on a tie, although it was loosely tied, given a few inches of slack, hanging in the breeze. His eyes were hard, bearing the weight of treachery and rage.

Sigurd stood on the aqueduct, leaning over the wall, elbows resting on the barrier. He absentmindedly scuffed the impromptu bridge with the heel of his foot, surveying all that stood before him. The area was largely unoccupied, large, sloping hills extending forth, broken up by the occasional building, just as ancient as the aqueduct that he stood on.

Well... not entirely unoccupied. Directly beneath him, Sigurd noticed several couples lurking in the shade provided by the towering aqueduct. They were trying to be sneaky as they went about their business, but Sigurd, in his vantage point, was privy to every sordid detail, every gasp, however faint.¹ He grimaced as he tried to block the sounds out, to little avail.

Turning back to the scene, Sigurd continued surveying and analyzing the potential battlefield. As he turned his eyes to the bridge that he stood on - er, aqueduct, he stroked his small, growing beard. The bridge - aqueduct was decrepit, creaky, existing only by the goodwill of the local authorities. Hardly a problem, then. The hilly space in front of him - that was a little trickier. A wide-open space, easily seen, lots of space for Riders to take advantage of their steeds, or for Lancers to sidestep and dodge. But as barriers? The sloping terrain would not protect anyone from him...

Nnh!²

Again with that infernal noise! Sigurd growled lowly in frustration. He retreated behind the wall, scooping up a handful of caked dirt. Returning to his original position, he lobbed the impromptu missile at a pair in a fit of pique.³ That done, he immediately turned his attention back to the surroundings. Still, though he was supposed to be ignoring it, he derived an immense amount of satisfaction at an ensuing shriek as the dirt clump found its target.

Back to observing, back to watching, for now...
----
¹_{Deviants! You have bedrooms! Perfectly fine bedrooms with pillows! Or cars! No need to be deviants.}
²_{YOU, AND YOU. YOU, WOMAN, YOU ARE A DEVIANT.
AND YOU TOO, SIR.
YOU ARE A BLIGHT AND A DEVIANT.}
³_{Son... I am proud.}

[Siyr Arend]

Well this day was going fairly well, other than the completely annoying meeting with that totally insensitive and unhonourable Ronin guy who didn’t even have the decency to say his own name. But that was a totally separate matter! After that annoying meeting, they had returned back to the mansion, where she fumed around for a little bit and threw pillows at things while her knight watched on.

That stupid, stupid man! He had deprived her a chance to see her knight with his shining sword in a duel, effortlessly dispatching his opponents! Stupid stupid stupid! She had been yelling at the air for almost half an hour.

Then she decided to calm down. Go see the sights of this ancient city instead of being cooped up in her stupid house. Maybe they would find someone else, but she doubted it. It’s not like everyone on the street was a Master after all.

But at least they could see the sights. Soooooooo, she was going to go to the old Roman aqueducts at in the old Lucca. The buildings there actually had history, unlike the modernity of recent expansion and the stark ugliness of new buildings.

This time though, her knight would be walking in full presence. No more of this boring spirit form thing! He would walk proud! As a knight!

Of course that’s not how he was now. Realistically he was a lot bigger than her, so even anything that she had resembling male clothes wouldn’t fit him. Not that he would want to wear anything she had. However that wouldn’t stop her! She had a veritable large staff of people running most of the house for her, and organizing her stuff. Two guys and two girls ran the place, and one of them seemed of size to her beautiful knight.

After getting detailed measurements of her knight, and the two men, the younger one was of a similar size to her knight. The measuring part had actually been fairly fun.

That one had a veritable wardrobe stored in the house, and he was glad to help his mistress out in that way, although he had some curiosity as to who Roland was. Of course she spoke to them in English, them having come with her when she travelled, and she wondered if Roland knew English as well. Scrambling, she had told him that Roland was her boyfriend, although the man had only laughed at that.

What was the laughter supposed to mean anyways? Well after that minor thought, she had gone through the man’s wardrobe, basically playing dress up with Roland, until she finally found a tailored silk dress shirt, and accompanying jacket that actually fit incredibly well. While it was a little overly formal for wandering around, and she would have been fine with just the button up shirt, Roland seemed insistent on wearing the jacket too.

Well that didn’t bother her in the slightest~

She had changed as well, putting on a royal blue, slightly ruffled, halter ring blouse, and a pair of slightly hip-hugging black slacks. Her only concession to her love of silver was a delicate chain bracelet of the shining metal.

So they had gone touring around the old city, and with the setting sun finally strolled to the aqueducts. It was beautiful, and quite amazing with the setting sun. It was even more beautiful when she thought how long it had stood. They built things to last back then, unlike buildings now that collapsed in decades.

The whole thing is just-

There was a man.

On the top of the aqueduct.

Silhouetting himself against the sun.

What was he even doing up there? How did he even get up there? What… did he just throw something… at someone?

What.

“Knight! There’s someone up there!” It totally had to be a Servant. How else could he even get up to that fragment of an aqueduct if he wasn’t?

Maybe she would get to see him in action. After all, who but someone evil would throw stuff at people like that? She had heard a woman’s scream when he threw it, so not only that but he attacked women! The man was most certainly not a knight, but obviously some horrible miscreant of a Servant.

Well this was going to be amazing. If it wasn’t a Servant, she would even get to see Roland talk someone down, maybe intimidate them a little.

She could barely contain her excitement.

[Bradamante]

The woman and the young boy were walking through the streets of the old town, "mage hunting".

Both were looking around, walking and exchanging some occasional thought about the town, and about their search.

The woman usually asked explainations on things that caught her attention, like streetlights, motorbikes, or strange foods people were eating. Other than that, she let out some occasional comment on their search going nowhere, with an amused tone.

After all, how could they spot a mage, or identify a servant? In the same way, how could another mage or servant identify them? She was wondering why the Grail didn't give her any detail on such an important matter, when a passerby stopped her, asking for directions:

"Excuse me, miss, can you tell me where is St.Michael square?"
Her thoughts were interrupded, and she watched the passerby with a puzzled expression. Her mouth was half open, in an attempt of finding a solution. Why, of all the people walking through the streets, this lost individual decided to ask her? She briefly glanced toward the boy she was walking with, then attempted a smile
"I...I honestly don't know...I'm sorry, but I don't belong here..."

The man gave her a comprehensive smile, and walked away, turning his attention to another girl passing by. The red haired woman raised an eyebrow.


They were now approaching the acqueducts. Bradamante was walking beside Jacob when she suddenly felt something. It was a difficult sensation to explain, but she shivered when realized she was sensing another servant. The sensation was barely noticeable, like a soft whisper in the back of her mind, but it was enough to set her in alarm, and maybe overreacting.

With a sudden movement, she grabbed Jacob's arm, and before her master could even realize what was happening, she was pushing him in a back alley, away from the main street.

"I can feel it!" her voice was a wisper, her eyes were moving around, to ensure no one was near. Her voice tone was mixed with the concern of stepping into a danger zone, and the discovery of her ability to detect other servants. If she could feel one, the other was probably able to do the same with her.
"I can feel other servants! At least one is close, possibly its master is close too. What should we do, Jacob?"

---

((I assume she felt the servant closer to her position (Roland, for example) as she is still far from the other one, so only one of the others should detect her too.))

[Jacob Archer]

Jacob sighed as they walked along in the evening light. After this morning, part of him was expecting masters to be lurking around every corner, considering how his luck seemed to go.

They walked along the stone street, the dying light coloring the aged building of the oldest section of town. Every now and again somebody would come up to them, a camera or brightly colored booklet it hand, and try asking them in for directions in Italian so broken it made Jacob's look good. Even after he told them he didn't know where anything was, a few still tried to show him a map and get directions before giving up and moving on. A couple of the male tourists asked Lancer instead, and didn't even seem to recognize his existence. After the last one simply went off to the next nearest girl, he was fairly certain why.

The road soon opened up into some sort of park, an old Roman aqueduct arching overhead, still standing long after its builders had faded into history. His musings were interrupted as Lancer grabbed onto his arm, dragging him toward an alley. "I can feel it!" Jacob tensed up, realizing what she meant. "I can feel other servants! At least one is close, possibly its master is close too. What should we do, Jacob?"

Jacob quickly looked around the park. A couple walked down the path, brushing dirt out of their hair and clothes. Another couple stood seemingly admiring the aqueduct, the girl wearing a blue dress and talking excitedly to the young man next to her. A lone tourist wandered the park, periodically stopping to look around. Which one was the Master? Lancer was right - a Mage was here, he could feel it. Slowly, Jacob pulled out one of his knives, palming it in his left hand. "We take a look around until we identify them," He explained. "And we do it carefully."

As calmly as he could, Jacob walked back out into the park. He decided to start with the loner. He'd just try to approach, see what sort of reaction he gets and go from there.

This plan fell through when Jacob finally realized what the girl in the blue dress had been looking at.

There was a massive figure standing on top of the aqueduct, framed by the dying light. Even from here, Jacob could tell the figure was not normal. And he could only think of one type of being who would be standing on an aqueduct.

"Found one."

[Bradamante]

Standing no more than few steps behind, Bradamante closely followed Jacob. Her perception became clearer as she moved forward: the position of the closest servant was becoming clearer after every step, like a trail it was pointing her toward the two figures staring at the acqueduct.

"we do it carefully" her master said. She was pretty sure she was spoiling everything with her presence. If she could distinctly feel the direction of a close servant, she probably was a lighthouse too.

One of the two persons was clearly a servant. Was it the blue dressed female, or the blonde man beside her? Wait...

She stopped when she noticed something familiar in that figure. She could swear she saw that posture somewhere else, but he was still to far to tell. Before she could think about it more, her mind became aware of a second presence, and a shiver ran through her spine.

Damn! A second servant! They might have stepped into something unexpected. What if both servants were allied, and were waiting for someone else to ambush and put out of the game?

Thousands of similar questions started dancing through her mind.

This stupid ability of detecting other servants was proving useful, but at the same time it was a little paranoia inducing.

Her priority became detecting the other servant's position. It was farther than the first one, but it could be a real threat if it was an Archer. Damn it!

Her eyes jumped around like crazy, but before she could find it, her master whispered "Found one"

Turning her head in the same direction of her master's, Bradamante noticed the figure on the acqueducts.
Was the presence of two other servants there just a coincidence? Were they fighting each other or were they allies? Considering that she and her master were looking for allies, striking first was not a good way to gain cooperation. Damn thrice!

She immediately put herself between Jacob and both servants trajectory, trying to look as calm as possible and with both hands in her jeans's pockets. Her heart was pumping like crazy, the uneasy feeling that something could go horribly wrong was preparing her for battle.

[Roland]

(Shitty post is shitty, as well as having took a long time to type =<)

Saber said no word after his initial outburst. Every inch of focus was currently directed at the man in front of him; a man with a sword pointed at his own throat due to blatant disrespect for his lady. All he was waiting for was his Master's permission to slay the offender. He would do it even if it would reduce him to a simple mindless knight in the eyes of the world. Saber would have done it for his King, and he would do it for his lady, a person he now respected even if her attitude was somewhat strange at times. It was not fair at all; Saber himself wondered if he really should execute this Ronin because of offence against Siyr.

He decided that he would not do so, regretting his past action as he remembered his best friend's words of wisdom for the second time since his summoning. For now, all he would do is threaten the man the best he could without snapping. Calm started to fill his emotions, replacing every inch of anger that was once controlling his every action. However, as calm as he became, Durandal was still in a position to kill, showing that he was still ready to act.

He heard the name of his profession from his Master, who asked him to lower his blade. Responding with a professional nod, Saber dematerialized the holy blade, sparing the man from further threats of murder.

He stayed silent for the rest of the meeting, not uttering one word. All he did was watch the ball being thrown between the two Masters.

~~

It was clear that, after this scuffle, his Master was extremely annoyed for a while. It was... somewhat entertaining to see her throw pillows at random objects in her room, reminding him of a young child who just threw a tantrum. Only that said child was around her early twenties and had quite the figure; proof that maturity does not advance as much as age does.

She had quite the number of pillows in her bedroom too... How can someone be in possession of so many fluffy objects without feeling invaded by them? Saber shook his head at this thought.

However, she had to stop acting like such a spoiled brat; it was unfitting for a lady, and as a knight Saber had to calm her down. Which he did, of course.

After a while, his Master calmed down and finally announced that the two of them would go outside once again, probably to look for other possible adversaries in the war. This idea pleased Saber a little; he, who was itching for a fight after being victim of an outburst that morning, was quite proud of Siyr's audacity. Believing that they were going with the same plan as earlier, Saber prepared himself to go back to his immaterial shape. It was the safest idea after all – especially for the prana conservation subject.

Let's just say that the last thing he wasn't waiting for was the action his Master made once she energetically pulled him along to take his measurements. She wanted him to go materialized, a fact that was made clear once she started asking – in English – her attendant for proper clothing for him to wear. He did not understand the full conversation, and was a little confused about the meaning of the word “boyfriend”. Not that he had the time to ask, as he got immediately prompted to change into some unknown outfit that seemed to be extremely formal. Saber took this as a good gift from his Master, and insisted on wearing the complete outfit along with a pair of fake, stylish glasses, something that caught his eye the moment he laid his sight on them.

So they had gone around the old city of Lucca after changing, taking the time to stroll around and admire the sights of the aqueducts. All of these constructions were new to the eyes of the knight, and because of that reason he was really impressed at how society changed after the time of Charlemagne.

His movements stopped as his instincts reacted to some presence in the vicinity. After that morning's encounter, he perfectly knew that it was yet another of his kindred ethereal beings. Siyr probably noticed him too, as she warned him about a man being at the top of the aqueduct.

“Servant.” Saber said, pushing the glasses up the bridge of his nose, giving him some kind of an intellectual look as he spoke. For some reason, the blonde liked wearing those glasses.

For now, the paladin contented himself on staring at his possible enemy as he lobbed a dirt clump, making it act as some kind of makeshift missile, at a couple of people who were currently enjoying themselves. Clearly the man was not the kind of person who would enjoy hearing such sounds, and Saber shared his opinion a little; if he were to be in his place, he too would have chased them away in some way or another.

But he wouldn't throw dirt at a woman, which was completely insulting to the feminine gent. That Servant in a suit had just done that.

“Stop right there criminal scum You!” He shouted at the miscreant. The tone he used was for warning him of his presence, and started to lower it as he finally caught the attention of his future opponent. “Attacking innocent women, how lo-”

His senses detected yet another Servant from behind. Son of a- I mean... I must protect! Saber's thought process was hard to understand, and clearly had to be simplified to the point that only the protecting part was kept. He concentrated on his own powers, and immediately materialized Durandal out of its hidden form.

“There is another Servant, my lady.” He warned Siyr with his clear knightly voice. “Its Master might be close...”

All he could do was hold his Master close to him, as the closest he was to the one he was meant to protect, the better the protection will be. Sure, it would be a lot better if she were to hide, but the presence of another Master complicated things by a large scale.

(Yes, he's still in a suit w/ glasses while holding Durandal. Awesome.)

[Jacob Archer]

Jacob continued to watch the figure on the aqueduct, even as Lancer changed position to better protect him. “Don’t worry just yet. I don’t think he’s noticed us…”

“You!”

“…Or not.” Jacob sighed, bringing his knife up. But then he realized that the figure on the aqueduct hadn’t even moved. I took him a moment to realize that the shout had come from the young man in front of him. The same young man the girl in the blue dress had been talking to. A part of his brain idly noted his description of her clothing was off, but the rest of it decided there were more important observations to.

Jacob didn’t like being this close. Not enough options. “Alight, it looks like they still haven’t…” It was then the young man tensed, moving closer to the girl. And now he was carrying a sword.

Alright, first encounter – off to a bad start. On the plus side, nothing had tried to kill him since that morning.

He gestured to Lancer to back up, explaining. “He’s got a sword – let’s not give him any more advantages then we have to.” The mere act of backing away from the swordsman might reveal them as more than just strolling locals, if only because they weren’t running in terror. But, they had come here looking for possible allies, and that meant revealing themselves eventually. Attacking first would be sure to end any prospect of an alliance, and making himself known risked attracting an attack from one or both servants if they were of a less than cooperative disposition. It was a stalemate until one of them pin-pointed his location.

[Sigurd Fafnesbane]

"You!" The sudden shout broke the still dusk air.

"Mrrh?" Sigurd lazily turned to the source. He saw a man standing beneath him, indignant fury etched in his face.¹ Though his form was too small to make out properly, Sigurd still saw that he was sharply dressed, a pair of spectacles² reflecting the light of the setting sun. Still, even so, the dragonslayer could see, plain as day, that the man carried himself stiffly, standing at proper attention, despite his clear, righteous indignation.³

Sigurd was content to remain where he was, watching the blonde boy flail around in his impotent rage. Despite the bemused expression adorning Saber's face, he was poised, ready to leap down and close the distance between the two. The man before him was obviously a Servant. The power emanating from him made that fact abundantly clear. His excitement was palpable. He was slightly leaning over the edge, hands clamped down on the aqueduct walls. Before he could act, however, his senses blared once more - alerting himself to the presence of another Servant.

The blonde man knew it as well. He immediately took a step towards his woman, immediately materializing a -

- A sword in his hand. The sword shone brightly, catching the dying sunlight, as befitting a holy weapon of its status. Sigurd blinked. Was he not the Saber in this war...? What was this...?

Enough. It was a surprise. Nothing more. Not weakness, not even a setback. He looked up, past the other, and saw a woman. Her hair was a surprisingly deep red hue, but that was all he saw. An utter stranger, to both of them, if the other's reactions were to be believed.

Back to the man. He was close to his Master, arm securely wrapped around the lady. Sigurd snorted derisively. How noble of him. How chivalrous... a veritable knight in shining armor!⁴ But, for some reason, all too fascinating.

With a single, sweeping jump, Sigurd easily leaped over the barrier, smoothly landing on the grassy hill in front of the other. He slowly walked towards the other man, a chilling smile on his face. "Problems... Saber?"

Saber. For some reason, this small concession, this association by class, irritated Sigurd. He would have loved to cross blades with this one... but something held him back. The woman? Maybe. Still, he waited for the blonde man's response, arms folded, an obvious hostility lurking within his eyes.

----
¹_{Seriously, why is everyone getting so hung up over this? I mean, for gawd's sake, I threw a piece of dirt at someone! I threw a piece of dirt at a couple. That's as many as two ones! AND THAT'S TURRIBLEH.}
¹_{Those glasses, man... those glasses. What the hell.}
³_{I swear, if I shoved a steel rod up his spine, he'd probably be more hunchbacked.}
⁴_{I hate you. Die in a fire.}

[Siyr Arend]

It was a standoff, a moment of pause between her knight and the standoffish rogue. A single respite, where each breath was an eternity.

It was… beautiful. Even the slight breeze that stirred Roland’s hair was absolutely perfect. Even Roland’s suit and glasses, which he pushed up with a hint of a smile, just added to the effect.

And when his sword materialized out of pure light…!

Oh she really couldn’t wait, and he even was about to speak, surely to say some heroic lines, or tell her not to worry, or something else that heroes did~

“There is another Servant, my lady. Its Master might be close...”

…

Her face fell. Why was there always something getting in the way of her knight!? Stupid honourless peasants of people who would interfere in a duel now she… there were no words to describe it. She could only stomp her foot on the ground in a wordless fury.

Which didn’t work quite as well as expected. The black, pointed, one inch heel on her stomping foot sunk harmlessly into the ground, not giving her the effect or sound she desired. Why is everything going wrong!

And then Roland wrapped his arm around her, and pulled her in close to him, melting her anger away. No, close was an understatement. She was right there, right against his side, his off-hand protecting him against the now descending miscreant who would soon have justice dispensed to him! She was safe like this~

A smile touched her face now. Why had she even been ang- Oh right. The other Servant. Well that didn’t seem like such a large problem anymore. Once a duel was started, no honourable Servant, as they were mostly at least somewhat honourable, would interfere. The only loss was that someone else would get to enjoy watching Roland combat with this… rogue that was now strolling towards them.

He wasn’t very graceful in his walk, instead being deliberate, and controlled. Like he owned not only the ground he walked on, but the entire world.

A cold smile worked its way on to the man’s face, one that froze her heart, and made her cling tighter to Roland, who in turn held her closer, but out of harm’s way.

“Problems… Saber?”

His very eyes burned at her, hatred for no reason evident clearly in their deep gaze. He could have been handsome, but his hard eyes and cruel smile took so much away from a face that could have held nobility. Could have.

She may have been afraid, had her knight not held her. Safe, and she would never be harmed by this man while Roland still drew breath.
That was reassured in his very grasp, and how his sword rested, ready.

And no other Servant could make her knight draw his final breath.
There was nothing to worry about, not this petty man’s front, which would crumble under the shining light of the man beside her, and his holy sword.

“Sooooooooo,” she said in a somewhat pleading voice, “What do you want to do, Knight~ I mean… should we wait for the others to show up, or just teach him respect right now?” The other Servant didn’t even look really tough, just kind of crazy, now that she thought about it.

Didn’t even have a weapon drawn, he was probably some crazy berserker or something.

Berserker’s were just weak Servants made slightly stronger by removing all their intelligence. Why the class even existed, she didn’t know. I mean really, why would anyone want someone insane and so boring and like biting at the furniture and stuff as a Servant.

This one wasn’t even Berserk yet. And it would explain his petty throwing of dirt; he was probably having some minor tantrum.

“And don’t worry about this thing’s Master, if he or she is even brave enough to show up. I can protect myself from any second-rate magus who would summon something like him.” A smile had once again lit up her face.

Even if he wasn’t much of a match for Roland, she still would get to see Roland. In a suit and glasses. Dispatch a rude enemy.

And maybe even a second one, if the other Servant was as abrasive as this one. That was something she was actually willing to wait for. Why had she even complained about the second Servant? Really there were only two choices. The Servant would stay out of it, and then it would be fine, or the Servant would join in and she would get to see Roland in action even longer.

Whether he wanted to wait or not though, that was a military decision, not something she would interfere with. That was the province of a Knight. Her Knight.

[Bradamante]

“You!”
That voice! If the posture of the man looked familiar, his voice sounded exactly like "his".
Even before Bradamante's brain could draw conclusions, the man stopped his speech, and manifested a sword out of thin air in his hand.

"It..."
No, not just a sword. Words couldn't even describe the sense of surprise that crushed her at the sight of Durandal. Her jaw dropped along with her shoulders, and she wasted at least five full seconds with an incredulous expression painted on her face.
"It can't be..."

If she ever had some doubts before, the sight of her cousin's sword dissipated all of them. Roland was summoned into this war too. That was potentially an incredibly bad thing. She could find very hard fighting her own blood, especially after all the time they spent together in the past.

She gave a very short gaze at her master when he whispered “He’s got a sword – let’s not give him any more advantages then we have to.”
Before her mind could try to say something, the other servant jumped down from the acqueducts, landing unhurt on the ground.
He was still too far to see his the expression on his face. The dying light was hiding it as he calmly walked in their direction, but the chilling tone in his firm voice was clear when he spoke to Roland.
“Problems… Saber?”
That man looked like he was ready for a fight, and he was shortening the distance.

Bradamante thought about what to do. Roland had probably noticed her presence, but he still had to see her. He surely detected her arrival and stopped his speech because of that. He probably was thinking he got ambushed and surrounded.
She couldn't simply start to say something and approach, or would give the chilling voiced man a starting edge, distracting roland.

Even if Roland was distracted by her presece, she realized he would sooner or later look in her direction. Standing still and waiting for the situation to unfold was probably the only right thing to do.
Hell she could simply burst into the possible fight if her cousin had troubles with the stranger.
Roland would probably kill her for her intromission, for breaking the rules of chivalry and all, but she was used in bending those rules when she thought it was needed.
Yes, waiting closer to Jacob, and keeping an eye on the situation was probably the best course of action.

[Alexandra Ritter von Ehre]

Alexandra inhaled deeply. What sweet smell!! Her eyes wandered full curiosity over the little treasure she found in a trash bin. The sensation of a rotten body was so disgustingly sweet. She felt perfectly in her element and it has not even been long since the summoning of her dark prince in shady armor. He was so beautiful, even more beautiful than this corpse. The last moments of that person's life must have been painful, his face or what was left of it, distorted to a grimace of pain and despair.

"Aaaaaah~"

The lady in a dark dress sighed longing for more of this adorable scene. She was a bit sad about the end of this human. Why could the murderer not wait for her!? Whoever had decided to get rid of this man was not creative, a single bullet into the head, but the terror was still there. Maybe a member of the mafia? It was still odd that nobody has found this odd piece before the purple haired woman in black. Alexandra had a specific talent in finding items like the one in front of her and the bin made it quite smell neutral, but still... it felt like a waste.

-sigh-

The female who stemmed from a long lineage of knights could hardly be identified as a knight when she acted more like a collector of unique items. This time the newest item to her collection would be an eye. She grabbed the eyeball and ripped it out. It had a nice color, a really rare green. What would the friends say when she would place it into their soup? Would they be able to identify it? Alex giggled slightly and then shook the maggots off that seemed to have already began to infest the skull.

gYou!h

"Hmm?"

Alexandra had been occupied by her little hobby too much to note the presence of other masters nearby, but after this rude person had ripped her out of her wonderful dream, she could sense enemies nearby, and a big smile grew on her lips. The smile, bigger than one of common humans placing her on a ranking with a famous cat from an equally famous story about rabbits and tea parties, was not the only clear visible part of her enjoyment. Her entire body language showed how much she was looking forward to meet other masters.

She stored the little treasure carefully away and then closed the bin to leave this surprise egg for the next easter bunny, whoever that might be. Alexandra left the side area a bit behind her own servant and could see the source of this little drama show. ........He was bright.. ugh. SO BRIGHT!! Don't!! She avoided her gaze from the sword that could easily identify him, if she were closer.

Don't draw me there.. I hate that light. I HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT!

Her eyes filled with tears, not only because of its brightness irritating her receptors. It tried to purge the darkness from her heart and grab her soul to bring it back to the surface. She did not want to have those memories return and clinged to her own shimmer of hope. Absolute torment and darkness. She wanted to rip that disgusting, righteous look from that man's face. Yes, ripping the skin from his skull and feeding it to some animal would be the proper punishment. Alexandra appeared a bit hurt at that guy's sight at first, but then focused on the back of her supporter.

SABER!

He was always able to bring her back to reality. Even though it has only been some hours, she knew that she could rely on him. Of course! He would bitterly regret it otherwise. She snickered a bit and then decided to act the role of a proper lady and greet those dear commoners. Hmmm...? Well, maybe they were not as much of commoners as she thought initially. They looked different than your average peasant, yet looks could betray.

Alexandra herself was a good example for this, and with a neutral smile approached her dear servant slowly.

"Hello~," she said friendly and waved. How was one supposed to greet another master? Maybe it appeared naive and careless, but this would only be a benefit for her. Just as this Knight stood out a bit too much for his own good. Her warrior in dark armor would probably not take too long to identify this foe and than rip the head off his shoulders, before using the rest as a toilet. What the human body could be used for! Just wonderful.

And they already knew those benefits years ago, when they made entire temples with human skulls. Skulls for the Throne. It would certainly make a great piece of furniture, Alexandra thought to herself and looked into the eyes of the closest masters. Arrogance.... an overconfident arrogance. She knew those eyes too well and hated them as much as the brightness of that servant's sword. She loved and hated those eyes. They were so beautiful and yet ultimately scary. This girl was scared, but not really from the confidence or power within them, but her own memories.

They made her feel inferior, but there was a good way to get rid of those feelings and improve herself. She only needed to get her hands on them. SHE WANTED THEM!! For her collection of course.

Saber's enemy was of course a Saber. Most would be surprised, but Alexandra had already figured that out some time ago. This grail war would not run as expected... but that was also nothing unexpected. Did the previous war went as planned? That was likely not the case. But what were the others thinking? There was not much her servant could be, other than a powerful Saber, or a Berserker?

She thought for a bit and then found great amusement in the idea. There was no need for him to go in a fit of rage, but just the imagination of seeing him go mad and filled to the brim with energy made her enthusiastic. A pity that she could not just change his class, but that did not stop her from changing it for the others~ One could not see much of Saber, but what they could see was that he was clearly a very powerful warrior.

"I see that you have already met my dear Berserker."

Even if he would complain, she could just ignore this. It was amusing enough to give it a try. Yet, she has not clearly decided if this would turn into a battle or just a late evening introduction. The heartless magus of the 'von Ehre' family was at least honorful enough to show herself, instead of turning the entire area into a cold grave, but the outcome would primarily depend on the moody man. She had given him free hand and the right to decide on his campaign. All she wanted from him was seeing results and getting treated properly.

[Roland]

[]Sorry for the lateness. I was busy these past few weeks.[]

"Problems... Saber?" The obviously taller man, bearing a smile that would have evoked a sense of discomfort in the soul of the common man, taunted Saber as he advanced toward the blonde with a slow pace. Wouldn't there have been another Servant in the vicinity, Saber would have gladly responded to his kindred's taunt. He decided to stay silent for a moment, thinking about the options that opened up to him. Right now he was completely surrounded by two entities that would snap his lady's neck with ease, and he didn't want to deal with the loss of yet another person that he had to protect. Not again. Saber wouldn't accept another failure added to his list.

His Master spoke, breaking the silence that once reigned over the opposing forced. Saber's eyes narrowed, holding his tongue back from clicking as he completely registered the arrogance in the words she voiced. That woman... He would have to teach - if outright harshly lecturing her is called teaching - his Master about how underestimating her opponents was a terrible thing to do. Furthermore, he had no idea what were the intentions of that other Servant behind him. If anything the two of them might be allies, both planning to attack him at once. What would ensue would be called a losing battle, something that Saber had experienced many times during skirmishes with opponents that outnumbered him early on during his career as a knight.

The opposing Servant's Master finally decided to make her appearance, looking as confident as her warrior. There was something off about this woman, he thought upon laiding his blue gaze on the purplette. Maybe it was the affable disposition she exposed as she spoke about her Servant, he had no idea. There was one thing for sure and it was that her appearance at the side of that man didn't bring any good news to the paladin. He decided to let Siyr do the talking as he realized that it was now three against two, with the former having two Servants under its disposition AND a Magus.

His hold upon the young woman's body tightened as he considered following one of the two options that were available to him. Would he have been his old self, before the loss of the person he dearly called Olivier, Saber would have charged ahead and taken on the two Servants at once without regarding his lady's safety as his top priority. Never again... He might have been the most powerful of the Twelve Peers; his identity, Roland, might bring the image of the bravest knight in shining armor in the entire history of the Franks to anyone who hear his name. He might be Saber, the deemed strongest class, but he wasn't about to commit another rash action that would doom both of them.

Olivier had taught him something that even Saber thought he wouldn't follow until this precise moment. A small smile was given birth to on the knight's lips. "Never thought that I would have to listen to your advice." His voice was lowered into a mutter as he remembered the exact face Olivier made once he told her that he would follow the complete opposite of the advice he gave him that time. That piece of wisdom he shared with him back in the time they were nothing but freshly made friends was one that could be summed up with-

Tactical retreat. Information gathering. Escaping. Se battre en retraite.

Saber's face returned to a more serious expression. "I'm afraid we are going to have to cut our match short, Berserker." He paused, eyes narrowing as he stared back at the taller man. "That goes for you too." Those words were directed at that other Servant behind him, the blond unaware of his or her intentions. He didn't dare look back behind him to take a glimpse of the stranger, with the reason being that Berserker who was considered to be a much more powerful opponent to Saber's eyes. Who knows whether or not he will attack him if he ever turned his gaze toward the space behind him.

"Hang on tight, milady."

He moved swiftly. Tightening his grasp around his lady's waist a little more, the paladin readied himself for a jump that would distance them from Berserker by a considerable gap. He had to be fast if he wanted to make his tactical retreat a success. He shifted his body to the side, registering a head full of red hair for a few milliseconds before springing from the ground, launching both himself and his Master in the air toward the side of a building that he quickly began to run up its flat surface in a fashion that ignored the laws of gravity.

If anything should happen to them while they were running away, Saber would make sure to take care of it. Especially if it was a pair of Servants that wanted him and his Master dead, if they ever followed. Sword in hand and woman in the other, Saber was ready for battle as he hopped from building to building in the old city of Lucca.

[Jacob Archer]

The tension built in the air with each passing moment, none of the assembled parties willing to move, lest they trigger attack of the others. Jacob wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or insulted that nobody had taken notice of them yet. The large figure at the front seemed to be quite interested in the other Master and her Servant, and they seemed to be quite on edge.

“Problems….Saber?” Being a humble human, the voice was barely audible from across the park, but Jacob still managed to catch the comment. So the other Servant was in fact Saber… or, at least, the other Servant thought they were Saber. Whether or not it was an accurate assessment remained to be seen – though it was a safe guess at this point. He was about to ask Lancer what she thought when he noticed her face.

Lancer was staring toward the pair ahead of them, a look mixing surprise and small amount of what might have been horror spread across her face. He wasn’t sure how long she had been staring at the other Servant, but something about him had her spooked. “You all right, Lancer?”

Then she showed up.

Even from here, even with his lack of real experience, Jacob could feel that something was wrong with this girl. Maybe it was the way she seemed so comfortable around the Looming figure that must have been her servant. Whoever she was, she seemed quite confident in her position which meant that, most likely, she was an experience Magus. That wasn’t much of a surprise – Masters like Jacob are an exception, not the rule of a grail war.

Whatever she was thinking about, it seemed to amuse her quite greatly, she turned to address the other Master. “I see that you have already met my dear Berserker.” Jacob didn’t like the idea of trying to fight a Berserker alone, leaving his only option as throwing his hat in with the other master.

The other Servant – Saber – seemed to find the situation far less favorable as he moved even closer to his Master."I'm afraid we are going to have to cut our match short, Berserker." He paused for a moment. "That goes for you too."For some reason, Jacob felt those last words were more directed in his direction then the taller figures. Before anybody could say otherwise, saber leapt into the air, far beyond the capabilities of any human as he arced above Jacob’s own head. Jacob caught a glimpse of the blonde knight before he landed and bounded up a building and into the city, Leaving Jacob and Lancer alone with the unnerving master and her Berserker.

Alright, Jacob considered, not the best position. Jacob thought. The Berserkers attention would now rest solely on them, and His master probably wanted either a good fight or a quick kill. Jacob had no intention of providing either. “Lancer,” he whispered to his Servant. “I believe a hasty departure would now be in order.” Jacob paused for a moment, considering what they had set out to do, before adding. “Follow Saber, if you can.” For now, retreat was the only option – He had no intention of dying on the first night.

[Bradamante]

"That goes for you too." Roland jumped high, toward a building, holding her Master with him.

The sudden depart of her cousin and her Master made her heart lose a beat.
She suppressed the irrational urge of calling for him, thus giving away both his and her identity with a single shout. Her blue eyes moved toward the other pair, without hiding a shade of worry. It was not the time, nor the place for a fight. Too much collateral damage.

“Lancer,” Jacob whispered “I believe a hasty departure would now be in order. Follow Saber, if you can"

"I agree" Bradamante's answer was essential, and she moved to grab Jacob with her left hand.

Her reaction was inhumanly fast, giving no time for Jacob to catch breath, nor to their opponents to anticipate them. She still had to really test the power of her new body, and her quickness amazed her. Jacob was light to her arm too.

She jumped diagonally, to the opposite direction where the claimed Berserker and her Master were, trying to remain aligned to the direction Roland took.

Woah, she was fast! And she really managed to reach the balcony she aimed at, landing with unnatural grace too!

The moment of self-surprise lasted very short though, she quickly jumped high to reach the roof of the house and have a sight at the couple on the run before them.

A very short sight though. They could always receive a fireball in the back, so she also had to worry about those she was trying to leave behind. Stupid magi with their filthy tricks!

The woman managed to reach the border of the roof at the top of her jump, grabbing the metal gutter at the end of it with the right hand, pulling herself vertically.

The gutter creacked slightly at the sudden weight imposed on it, but resisted, and Bradamante safely landed on the clay tiles of the roof with both feets, with her master beside her.

She glanced toward the direction of her next jump then turned slightly, jumping sideways to see if the woman and her berserker decided to follow them and she had to defend.

[Siyr Arend]

So the second rate magus finally showed herself! A woman with dark hair, and a sort of odd air about her. She seemed to be a counterpoint, a strange mirror. Not a peasant… but an odd mirror was all that came to Siyr’s mind.

Well at least she greeted Siyr, somewhat courteously. Well at least the woman knew something about manners, unlike that other one who had bothered her this morning. He had been downright offensive to her.

So…

She would acknowledge her back, and respond in turn. At least she was better than her knight, they could probably leave this woman alive. She didn’t seem that dangerous at all… maybe this Servant was just a failure of a summon or something. He was a Probably. He did seem rude.

“Hello to you too~”

And she even introduced her Servant too! It was Berserker of course. So obvious, such a crude man could only be of a class such as that. So much better than him though at least. Hmmf! I can’t wait for this fight!

She brought her hands together and curtsied, though she lacked a dress to do it properly, instead of waving.

“And this is my Servant Kn-“

A quick tug brought her closer to Roland. Not that she minded but a surprised “Huh?” escaped from her as she turned her eyes to her own Knight.

“I’m afraid we are going to have to cut our match short, Berserker. That goes for you too.”

His head had turned to the observer Servant, who did thankfully seem to have some sense of decency to not interfere with the fight, but why was he going to have to cut the match short? Did he sense another Servant who was advancing on them?

“Hang on tight, milady.”
“Huh?” That word again. She really didn’t get it. “Kni-“

She was cut short as she was tucked under Roland’s arm and hanged there until a sudden energy filled step that seemed to move the ground rather than Roland himself.

And then they were in the air. And Berserker was getting further away, shrinking in the distance.

Roland… what was he doing? Was he… he was looking out for her! He had to be putting her in a safe place so she would not be harmed in the fight! Of course he was looking out for her; he always would as her knight. Well as long as he left her somewhere she could watch the two of them go at it.

But… it was starting to get… nope she could no longer see Berserker.

“Ummm… Knight?” She was flustered. He did have control of combat, but this wasn’t really combat. He couldn’t be running away. He wouldn’t run away, he was a knight! Well he wouldn’t run away from that brute at least.

“Are we… ummm…” The wind was completely ruining her hair as they travelled, and made her feel incredibly awkward. Not that she minded being tucked under his arm, and witnessing his great strength~ but…

“I think the fight is the other way…” She tried to point, but realized her arms were rather locked under his single one and his side. “What are we doing?” Siyr tried to be rather emphatic with that… but it was hard when you were completely under someone’s control, and tucked under their arm like a prize or something. Even to her, it sounded a little silly. She hated silly, she was never silly. And so, it ended up being said somewhat from a pouting face, and with a not-very-forceful tone.

[Sigurd Fafnesbane]

Saber did not strike, did not rise to the bait.

He turned, taking his Master under his arm, and ran.¹ Running in bounds and leaps, the other Saber fled the scene, launching himself to a nearby building. He landed on the roof, barely breaking stride, dashed to the edge, and jumped again, swiftly shrinking from view.

Sigurd blinked, head turning to the other Servant, the woman with fiery red hair, and her Master.

She also fled, much in the same manner as Saber. Arm hooking around the man's² waist, the woman darted out of sight, leaping onto a building, following the blonde man.³ Accomplices? Had to be, for her to willingly and suddenly follow the Saber like that. No hesitations, no second thoughts. Couldn't be anything else.

No doubt, his Master's lie left quite an impression on Sigurd's foes. Sigurd cast a dour glance over his shoulder, before shrugging it off. At least the convincing lie had served a purpose. He was feared. His power, respected. This much, he was certain of.

But. The matter at hand. Runners. Would require swiftness of foot.⁴ Advantageous headstart.

Disadvantageous baggage.

Again, Regin would call for swift action, a swift response. Sigurd found himself agreeing with the dwarf's assessment.

Sigurd leaned forward, legs slightly bent, preparing to leap, before he was forced to consider his Master. He turned around. “Think you can catch up?” Sigurd asked curtly, head half-cocked to the side. He had no desire to hamper himself in the same manner as the runners.

Then again, he had no wish to leave her the easy prey of a lucky Assassin.

----
¹_{For God's sake.}
²_{Did I say it before? If so, I'll say it again. Nice hat.}
³_{Civility, civility. It used to be that people would politely surrender to you, instead of running off like a frightened jackrabbit. “Mr. Saberzerker, would you please kindly allow me to change into my brown pants, sir?”}
⁴_{Damnit, Beo.}

[Roland]

"I was expecting a duel, not being flanked by both sides."

Saber answered his Master's question, making a bound to another building. Dematerializing his sword in mid-air, he decided to carry his Master in a more comfortable position and placed his arms under her legs for further support. The knight had to preserve his Master's safety as his first priority, and making her risk her life against two other Masters was not the best idea he could come up with.

Would you have done the same without a Master to defend? A small voice pondered inside his head. The answer to that question was painfully obvious to the paladin, who would have gladly fought everything that would stand in his way. Fortunately for him, it was not the case.

Saber made one last bound before making a sudden stop to their escape. He deemed this distance far enough from the fight to make a short break. "I deeply apologize for my cowardice, my lady. Your safety had to come first, for without you I cannot-" Followed. -go on any further.

They were being followed by one of the enemy Servants. So they were after his blood enough as to hunt him down, huh?

The blonde placed his Master on her feet courteously before turning and facing the one who dared to follow him. With a soft whisper of "Stay safe" to his lady, Saber made a bound to another rooftop, initiating one of those transforming sequences you always see in those Mahou Shoujo animes.

With the suit out of the way, Saber could finally fight at his best. Concentrating himself, the blonde spotted the incoming enemy Servant that now appeared strangely familiar to his eyes. That hair, those eyes, that armor... He couldn't make out her face correctly due to the distance that set them apart, but the mere sight of that armor could only make him think about-

"Y-you..."

He wanted to slap himself right now for his idiocy. How could he not have noticed that the mysterious Servant that was apparently ambushing him was that cousin of his? Teaches me not to look...

If anything, Saber had never expected Bradamante to be one of the many warriors summoned in this Holy Grail War. However... This also meant that they would truly be enemies if they were still alive in a later stage of the battle.

Now is a different matter. During the second that followed his realization, Roland made the choice to call out to the red-haired woman.

"Cousin?"

[Bradamante]

Her cousin was fast and managed to put a few buildings between them. Still, Bradamante had to follow him and keep an eye behind for the other servant, that berserker. She was chasing but was probably chased too, and was looking behind her after every jump, losing momentum.

Then, Roland came back alone landing a few roofs in front of her, with his armor on. He probably decided that the time for running was over.

Bradamante was about to call him, to warn him she had no intention to fight, when he anticipated her.
His voice, mixed with surprise, reached her ears

"Cousin?"

What an incredible thing. The human figures staring at each other were both dead centuries ago, their real bodies decayed in dust. Yet, she was staring at her cousing, she heard his voice.

She glanced back one more time to satisfy her paranoia before jumping on the same roof her cousin was. She then let Jacob down beside her, and stood still in front of Roland.

A breeze of wind barely moved her red hair, and the woman's eyes stared at the knight in front of her. She smiled, and for a brief second she felt like she was back in her time.

That second lasted so long. One of her trusted companions, probably the strongest of all of the Charlemagne's Paladins was standing there, centuries away from his era. Two ghost of a forgotten past were in front of each other, with a mixture of conflicting emotions on their faces.

The battles they fought together alongside. Their common blood. The time spent together in peaceful times.

The knowledge that they were going to be opponents, sooner or later.

The rules of the Grail War were simple to remember. Only a Servant and a Master could obtain the grail. Only a Servant and a Master could be the ones standing at the end.

The woman felt a chill running through her spine, but managed to push away the thought of a fight to the death in a later stage of the war.

She and Jacob were looking for allies, and luck managed to bring before her no one else than her cousin. A trustworthy, unvaluable ally for the time being.

"Well...long time no see, huh? It seems none of us could stay away from troubles, right?"

[Alexandra Ritter von Ehre]

"Worried about me? How cute~ Huhu. But there is no need for that. Just go on and play with them, but don't forget the souvenirs."

She had just let him lose. A sane Berserker would soon rush into the midst of his enemies and tear them limb from limb. Alexandra could hardly contain her enjoyment, needing a bit of a revenge for their rude behaviour. She had intended to instill some fear and respect in her opponents, but they were running before she was even done! The purple haired woman did not show any signs of anger, but it looked quite different on the inside. The black mess one could call feelings, was set ablaze and interested in burning everything with unholy flames.

It was a bit of a pity that this skill did not come in a magus' repertoire of spells and less for someone of her lineage, who had more interest into sending the enemy into a cold and dark grave. Well, soon Saber would send them to sleep with the fishes and the servant bodies would disappear to feed the Grail for more amusing side effects. Whatever the other masters were fighting for, it had nothing to do with the Ritter von Ehre Magus. Destruction and Terror, fortunately often required less planning than trying to defend against it, and protect all those poor innocent, uninvolved normal people.

The only reason why she preferred to see the Grail Beasts at Work than doing it herself was simply that the attention of the Church would be too big at the current stage of the War, and leaving all the bigger fish to some small fry would just ruin Sigurd's mood. He needed some time to play. Additional prana was transfered from Alexandra to Saber, as she jokingly raised an arm and pointed at her enemies and stated with even more amusement in her tone.

"Go and get them, Berserker!~"

Her dark knight, only meant to protect one single being, herself was sent on his 'holy' mission to subdue the disgusting and eye hurting light. She wanted it gone forever, extinguished under a pile of bones, taken from the masters who dared to destroy her introduction with their cowardly escape. How often would it occur that multiple servants engaged her servant anyway?

[Jacob Archer]

Lancer could keep up with the other Servant, but barely – slowly but surely their target began to widen the gap between them. Jacob wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing – he realized that he wouldn’t get very far in this war if he just ran all the time, but another part of him liked to point out that he hadn’t planned any of this.

Jacob was jerked out of his musings as his Servant came to a stop on top on of the roofs. Setting him down, Jacob took a moment to check his surroundings – nobody behind them, which was good.

However, the figure they had been chasing was now standing in front of them, and in full armor. A figure clad in blue and silver, a sword in hand

Okay, not ideal. Oddly enough though, he had yet to attack, which seemed odd….

“Cousin?”

Cousin? If he was Lancers cousin, that would make it a lot easier to negotiate with him – assuming his master was willing to play ball.

"Well...long time no see, huh? It seems none of us could stay away from troubles, right?" Well, at least Lancer seemed to be on friendly terms with him.

“I apologize for the interruption,” Jacob interjected with a quick bow, his hat in hand as much because of the wind as to emphasize the gesture. “But I can give you my word that we intend no harm to you or your master. If the lady is interested, I was hoping to discuss the possibility of an alliance.” As if to punctuate the statement, another gust blew past from where they had just come from. “Because something tells me this night is just getting started.”

[Siyr Arend]

“Y-you…”

Talons tore through flesh

That red haired… she… her knight was staring at her! That certainly wasn’t allowed! She was a Servant, he was supposed to-

“Cousin?”

Oh. Ok~ She was his cousin. It was kind of sort of alright then. Her circuits emptied, stopped carrying the beautiful burning energy, seconds after Roland’s words echoed across the roofs. The distortion was never formed, of course. A noblewoman like her never attacked so quickly, without any explanation~ It was just a slight moment of foolishness, that would have been remedied even if Roland had not spoken.

Whoa. She had been so… distracted… by the other servant, that she didn’t even notice Roland had manifested his armour, tinges of burst light had actually purpled the edge of her vision. She hadn’t even noticed, had been too busy thinking about lancing a ray of pure flame across the rooftops. Helping her knight, clearly.

Cousin though… that made her… ummm… Right! Bradamante! She remembered reading that love story between her and Ruggiero. A minor side character, compared to Roland’s magnificence, really. That didn’t take away from her, but was simply a message about Roland’s skill, and monopoly in the cycle.

Though love stories were always enjoyable~

The two were having a nice little talk, nothing of serious consequence, when the other master interrupted their reminiscence. Although she didn’t look exactly like Siyr had pictured, not like Roland, who appeared perfectly as imagined. Shining under the spotlight sun, armed and armoured in spotless radiance.

“I apologize for the interruption, but I can give you my word that we intend no harm to you or your master. If the lady is interested, I was hoping to discuss the possibility of an alliance. Because something tells me this night is just getting started.”

Hmmm… he had bowed to her, and to her knight. He may have been a peasant, albeit a peasant with a nice hat, but at least he knew his place~ Less noble than knights, less noble than her. That meant far more than his words. The ronin from earlier had been words and not actions, lying, bitter words.

She could sense the fluidity in his bow, even from across the rooftops. He could make a decent ally, she supposed. Probably not if he hadn’t had someone related to Roland as his Servant, but circumstances could change minds. Siyr was not going to make her Knight fight one of his relatives, unless there was great need.

And in this case there really wasn’t. In fact, if anything, it was the opposite, and that annoying ball of steel needed to be put down. The two of them could fight in some honourable dual at the end of the war, where Roland would surely win.

“No apologies are necessary~” She replied with a slight incline of her head, a higher bow, as befitting her station above the man, still a polite reply to his bow. Her hair fluttered out wildly with the strong gust of wind as she did so, and she resumed after it settled back down for a second. “I would not force my Knight to fight someone he does not wish to fight,” As much as I just wish I could see him fight for once, at least! “So at the very least we have something of an uneasy truce. I would be fine with discussing an alliance, perhaps you will be a better conversationalist than the last Master I met~”

That wasn’t really a difficult challenge. He had already surpassed the last one, but that was not really something she should inform her potential opponent, now was it~?

[Sigurd Fafnesbane]

"Harooooooo!"

Sigurd loosed a savage, elated roar as he leaped into the night sky, pursuing the two. They had a headstart, but it didn't matter. Weighed down, bowed down by their masters. They had a disadvantage. The impromptu 'Berserker' did not. The Saber landed heavily on a tiled roof, sliding and scattering terracotta. He did not even trip nor stumble, only continued running, building up speed. Then again.

Sigurd growled as he transformed with the second bound, bands of steel fluidly ripping its way through his clothes, shredding them. They tightly wrapped around the Saber's form, encasing him from head to toe in armor, finishing off with a pair of curved, vicious bull horns.

He landed against the side of a multi-story apartment building. Without missing a beat, Saber dug a clawed hand into the wall, securing himself momentarily - and then boosting himself over the edge. He landed, lightly cratering the roof in the process.

There. He could see them. The two Servants and their Masters, standing on the same rooftop. But they were not fighting. They were only standing there, talking, though the words did not reach Sigurd's ears. This must mean that they were hammering out an alliance of convenience.

This possibility did not even slow the Saber down. If anything, it only hastened his approach, fueled by the promise of swords and blood. He swiftly closed the distance between himself and his quarry, landing one building away. He slid down on the business end of another tiled, gabled¹ roof, materializing and slamming his weapon into the roof to slow his descent.

Sigurd glared across the sky toward his chosen foe, the blonde Saber, transfixing him with his baleful, yellow gaze. "Enough talk, enough running! Stand here, stand and fight!" The Saber bellowed.
----
¹_{This program brought to you by Mundane Grail Utility 101.}

[Jacob Archer]

“Perhaps you will be a better conversationalist than the last Master I met~”

Jacob rose out of bow, but kept his hat off. “I am saddened to her that. A gentleman should…” whatever he was about to say was cut off by the thundering crash behind him. Jacob spun around, his hat somehow finding its way back to the top of his head as he drew one of his knives - Ultimately useless, but it was like body armor – just having it was more important than what it could actually do.

And against this latest foe, useless might have been an understatement. The figure was easily over six feet tall, clad head to toe in gleaming armor. A pair of bull horns atop his head only added to the terrible visage. Jacob couldn’t help himself as he took a step back. The figure before him could squash him like a bug, even if he wasn’t a servant. Even the expanse of building between them seemed inadequate.

"Enough talk, enough running! Stand here, stand and fight!"

This guy just didn’t know when to give up. Then again, they had yet to give him a real reason to. He must have been itching for a fight, whoever he was. Though, considering he was challenging them like he was instead simply attacking them told Jacob we was probably looking for a challenge of some sort, as opposed to just bloodshed. A little banter should be safe. He hoped. “It doesn’t appear you intend to give us much of a choice.” Jacob edged toward Lancer, keeping his eyes on the armored servant. There wasn’t much he could do if he decided to attack, but seeing his death coming would be something. “Lancer,” He did not take his eyes off the enemy as he held hand out, palm toward Lancer. Hold. No need to spark things off. Raising his voice, he addressed the other Master. Time to see check just how far this truce went. “So, my lady – what shall we do?”

[Roland]

"It appears so. Whether I cause it or not." Saber answered his red-headed cousin's words with a half-hearted chuckle. "It has been a long time since the last time we met. Glad to see you as healthy as ever, cousin." His voice was but a warm greeting toward Lancer, one who he would have missed were it not for the fact that he was once dead.

At least her Master seemed to be a decent guy, compared to that scoundrel his lady and he met back at the café. Maybe that man would make a good ally.

This isn't the time to consider alliances, however. He thought as he sensed something coming toward their direction. It didn't help that said something had practically howled loudly, announcing his presence to the four beings that stood on buildings. It was that 'Berserker' again. The man just confirmed that by appearing before their very eyes, sending words of challenge with a bellow. There were no other choices available to him other than fight against the rugged man that once taunted him to a battle.

Priorities came first, however, as Roland needed to get his lady to safety before he engaged any kind of battle with something that could crush her head off. Turning back toward the duo of talking Masters, Saber started a dash to Siyr and grabbed her waist. He might have interrupted their conversation in doing so, he noted. After jumping to the top of another similar-looking skyscraper, the paladin returned to his cousin in a single bound.

Saber's hand made a grip upon something that was completely absent, as if he was holding an invisible sword. It was at that moment that the light attributed to his blade appeared, remanifesting Durandal in his grip once again since his earlier escape.

"Get ready, Lancer." He looked aside, still a little mezmerized at the discovery that his cousin would fight alongside him like long ago. "This battle will be a tough one."

Saber then took a stance, ready for the first move to come.

[Bradamante]

“Lancer”

Jacob's voice prevented her acting, just like he knew she was going to act rashly and attack the opposing warrior head on.

Actually she was exactly going to do that, and for various reasons: first, she was ignored by that servant as he openly taunted Roland. Second, she had to put some distance between the giant man and her master, so she had to divert his attention somehow.
Respecting Jacob's order, she stayed put, with both hands closed.

“So, my lady – what shall we do?” jacob asked.

The answer never arrived, as Roland suddenly grabbed her master and brought her atop a building nearby with a huge leap.
Bradamante took immediately a step forward, putting herself between Jacob and the so called Berserker: at least one of them had to keep an eye on their opponent to prevent his action.

She could not act like Roland and take away Jacob, or the third servant could easily pick a target and strike them unprepared.

Taking her sword from the side, Bradamante simply stood there rising her guard.

Her blue eyes noticed a ladder on the edge of the building.
"Master" she whispered, without diverting her eyes from the huge, armored warrior on her line of sight. "I suggest you take that ladder and find yourself a safer spot, as soon as that servant is distracted by me or my cousin. I don't want to let him know where you are so that you may become an easy target. Hide inside a building if you can."

Seen as how that berserker damaged the surroundings while chasing them, she realized he probably could not care less about collateral damage, and that was a problem. He was rather smart too, as he left her master behind to attack freely and without concerns.

She took a deep breath and the cold air of that evening entered her lungs. She could feel the tension rising inside. They were still in town, and unaware innocents could easily get harmed by their powers.

With a leap, Roland was beside them again, with his sword reappearing out of thin air. Durandal was always a majestic sight.

"Get ready, Lancer." he said, briefly glancing at her "This battle will be a tough one."

"I won't make it easy for him"

[Siyr Arend]

“Kni- Guh!?”

Twice in less than an hour, she was unceremoniously yanked off her feet by her shining knight. He was taking her away from the battle, again. She could see the reason for it, after all a brute like the opponent clearly was would not hold honour and the battle between Servants as the true fight, and instead go after a Master.

The magecraft of the Arend line was potent, but even she knew it would not fare well one on one against a Servant.

So, she was now soaring through the air, once again tucked under Roland’s strong arm. He leapt from roof to roof, actually making her somewhat nauseous. The other Servant actually was standing against the iron ball (Did he realize how ridiculous that armour looked? A dull sheen, and long, obnoxious horns, and a visor designed to cause fear rather than inspire?)

For the second time today she was glad she had picked slacks over anything flowing, a skirt, or any dress. Even if there was no one beneath her, she still had her dignity to think of

Steel clad feet slammed into the roof of a five story building, scraping along the pebbled flat roof, and skidded to a halt.

“Wait here.” It may have been unvoiced, but she could imagine him saying it, deep blue cape fluttering in the breeze, and his hair stirring just as a single ray of light from the setting sun caused his pauldrons to glint. It was far too easy to see happening.

But it didn’t, he just leapt away, sliding back to his cousin, leaving her with a tall vantage point, but fairly far away. None of her Magecraft would reach that far, and she could almost hear what they were saying, but it was mostly guess work.

Her knight stood, sword in hand… she had missed its materialization! Durandal… the sword of three Miracles. It was dusk… perfect for fighting. There was no one near, and unless one was looking specifically at the rooftops, they would not notice. Not that there was anyone left in the streets, doors were being locked, and people were retiring to their rather indelicate entertainments. Modern technology, psh, mere humans, unknowledgeable of the very world around them. Unable to taste the mana in the air.

Oh! Her knight was talking! She couldn’t really hear what he was saying, but she didn’t need to hear it to know what he was saying. A knight’s heart was clear as glass.

“Alright, Berserker,” He would be saying, “I will privilege you with a battle, one that a dog like you doesn’t deserve.” His voice would be clear, and strong. Without reproach. And the unhonourable dog of a berserker he fought, who cared little of interrupting a lovers’ caress, or the ancient city itself, would not heed his words.

And because of that, he would fall, his armour pierced, and his body limp. That impractical iron wrecking ball would understand who her Servant was. Roland, the greatest of the paladins, the greatest knight who ever lived.

The other Master and her could speak after this rubbish was disposed of. He would know the same, and understand. It was not like this was going to take long, after all. Roland did not even need the aid of his cousin to make short work of his opponent.

Her command seal burned. Finally, finally she would see her knight’s skill. Her champion.

“Get him.” She whispered, futilely, but it felt good, and surely he would feel her support over their emotional link, if he even needed that.

[Sigurd Fafnesbane]

Run, run, run and some more. Irritation lanced through Sigurd at the sight of the white Saber leaping away yet again, taking his Master with him. He gripped his sword yet tighter, bracing himself, preparing to leap.

Oh ho, what was this? He was coming back, having deposited his Master to safety in some other place, lightly landing beside the red-haired woman, weapon materializing in a flash, white sword reconstituting itself out of nothing in an instant. He took a ready guard along the woman, who had drawn her own sword.

As expected, allies. And, unless Sigurd's eyes deceived him, they had some form of commonality, such was the similarity of their armor. Perhaps even lovers, hah.

The Masters were set aside, the weak links stowed away. The stakes were set, the challenge accepted.

Sigurd's Master had shown a particular loathing of the blonde Saber, and he was inclined to agree with her judgement. He hated, hated, hated¹ everything he stood for, from that white armor to that fair hair. That Saber would be the first to fall.

Sigurd took several steps back, retreating from the edge of the roof, adjusting his grip into a two-handed grasp - and then dashed forward, launching himself off of the roof, streaking through the starry night sky towards the two paladins. He landed shy of their blades and their swords with a thunderous and shuddering force, momentum still propelling him across the shrieking roof. Without missing a beat, the dark warrior launched the bulk of his mass forward, rapidly closing the gap. His sword preceded him, sweeping out in a vicious arc.

----
¹_{haethaethaethaethaethaeterades}

[Jacob Archer]

Jacob turned toward the other Master, in expectance of a response, just in time to watch her Servant leap off with her.

“…huh” Not the most articulate response, but Jacob thought he had been doing well on that front, considering what he had been through so far. At the very least, it told him they weren’t going to attack him – nice to know that at least one Master was out there that would keep their word.

"Master, I suggest you take that ladder and find yourself a safer spot, as soon as that servant is distracted by me or my cousin. I don't want to let him know where you are so that you may become an easy target. Hide inside a building if you can." Jacob turned to Lancer as she spoke, briefly taking his eyes of the enemy. In hindsight, not the best action, but he managed to get away with it so no harm.

“Good idea.” Jacob took a step back from his Servant toward the ladder in question. Across the rooftops, the enemy Servant was backing away as well. “Take him out if you can, but don’t push it – no point in dying this early into the game.” Giving his Servant one final glance, he turned around and made his way up the ladder, toward the other Master.

He made it to the next roof just as the Berserker landed, making the entire building shake. Jacob nearly lost his footing, but recovered as best he could. Suddenly very glad for the distance between himself and the grail-summoned heroic spirit, Jacob made his way over toward the other Master. She was watching the fight below with staggering intensity. Jacob followed her gaze to the roofs below, just in time to catch the Berserker’s charge. A pair of hero’s versus a monster – just like an old legend. Of course, the same stories about the hero’s victory often ended with their death. He could only hope that it was the former, and not the latter.

[Roland]

[Credits to Aela for the huge help she provided me with this post.]

"Yes, my lady!"

He responded Siyr's whisper through the emotional link the two shared as Servant and Master. It made him glad to know that he had his lady's complete and absolute support, a feeling that didn't go amiss when he mentally shouted his determination.

Screeeeee!

Berserker’s metal greaves tore through rooftop as he landed, spraying sparks and stone shards across the roof that bounced off Roland’s armour, sounding like nothing more than the rain.

Unfazed. Intimidation tactics. Something to make him shrink back, to waste a movement on deflection, to even blink away for a second. But he did not move, he stood still, ready for the next move that he could feel coming.

Here it comes!

That heavy steel blade, more monstrous than it had any right to be, tore through the air towards him, howling like a mad beast. It was predictable, like so many others he fought. The steel shorn warrior might as well be sending his attacks by messenger.

That did not take away from its danger, its power behind the blow. Trying to stop it dead in its tracks would have been folly, insanity. Instead he instantly fell to his knees; fell past his knees, the powerful steel soaring over his head. Had he been a tenth of the second too early, the Berserker could have changed the course of the blow, brought it down on his falling body. A tenth of a second too late, and the blow would have crunched into his side, and that would be the end of him.

But he was neither too late, nor too early. This was a simple matter for a man of his skills! He was the foremost Paladin of Charlemagne!

He pushed himself forward the moment the blade passed overhead, screaming as it tore the very wind from the air, and pushed himself to his feet at the same time. This was an opening, and the difference in their skills! Durandal’s shining form rose with his right hand, and slammed in towards that armoured chest. A rising stab from the knees, the knights’ reflection.

This would be a simple end, for a simple enemy.

[Bradamante]

As Jacob moved away, Bradamante could focus entirely on the tall warrior that proppelled himself through the air toward Roland and her.
His greaves tore the floor of the roof in a shrieking cloud of sparks and dust, and she could feel the vibration of that landing up to her spine.

Impressive entrance, really.

That creature in front of her was once a human like she was, no doubt of it. Now though, it was a servant, a far more powerful incarnation of the being he was once, and the impressively imposing armor he was wearing was perfectly fitting the image of the monster he had become.

The warrior didn't stop, not even for a blink, and lunged forward, attacking head on with his giant blade.

That blade alone was impressive too, to the point the periwinkle knight wondered how could he wield that thing in his previous life.

"Impressive!" She resumed her thoughts with a bit of admiration in her voice.

Her cousin dodged by lowering below the trajectory of the blade just an instant before being hit. The arc was wide on purpose though, and the blade moved toward her, so she had no time to say anything to comment the risk her cousing just took.

The female knight lowered her head and dodged on the right, starting to move on the side to surround the enemy servant.

Roland didn't say a thing about not attacking, so she had an excuse to use to ignore "chivalry" completely. Her cousin might not like her action, but that was not a private duel. It was a war for the Holy Grail.

Amazed once again at her inhuman agility, Bradamante was already behind the monstrous armor and her carrier, preparing her sword for a quick stab.