The Gambler and the Ghost

[William Debaere]

Day 0 - Midnight

William Debeare collapsed onto the bed of the cheap motel.
He was a few miles outside the city proper, in a motel called...something in Italian, he hadn't been paying attention.

He had run out of taxi money and was forced to walk the last mile or so along the highway before reaching the place. It was a brown, squalid, unfortunate affair; siting unpleasantly along the road like a particularly disgruntled toad. William didn't mind much, he'd lived in worse, maybe he could hustle a little pool from a nearby bar.

He smiled ironically, hustling pool?
Is that how far I've fallen? He asked the ceiling.

He rolled over, letting his face fall into the sheets, trying hard not to think of how long it had been since they'd been washed, or the quality of their former occupants. He could have fallen asleep like this. Two sleepless plane rides and a long taxi trip meant he was dead tired; but there was work to be done.

William had a war to win.

He pulled himself to his feet and walked over to his small bag, rustling through the spare clothes and a few books, he pulled out the book his friend from the Clock Tower had lent him, in which was detailed the remaining knowledge he needed for the summoning ritual. It mentioned something about a catalyst, well, no luck there; Will barely had enough money for food and a roof, let alone some ancient artifact.

He began to draw the circle with a sharpie, praying with every line that it didn't run out of ink. After finishing, he stood up and surveyed his handiwork.

He sighed in disgust, the old dogs at the Tower would be laughing all the way home if they saw this...abomination. Sure it was accurate, but it was still drawn in Sharpie on the floor of a cheap motel room with the bed pushed up against the wall for room. No doubt other masters would have whole wings of mansions dedicated to the summoning, with elaborate circles of blood or molten silver or something. This was a discount knock-off brand of a summoning. Hopefully it would produce more than a discount knock-off brand of a servant though.

He stood over the circle.

"well, might as well get started"

He turned off the lights, letting the room fall dark, save for the thin beams of moonlight flowing in through the grimy window.

"Ye first, O silver, O iron. O stone of the foundation, O Archduke of the Contract."

He felt the power surge within him, burning as it flowed out to his fingertips. He continued, heedless of the pain.

"Let thy body rest under my dominion, 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."

He didn't falter. This had to work. There was no other option, no other path.

"I make my oath here.
I am that 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, and be thou the hands that protect the balance-!"

[Hassan-i-Sabbah the 19th]

Silence…

Even with all the perfect procedures of summoning, nothing happened for a time. No violent gust of wind nor sudden prana explosion, just a brief glow from the circle illuminating the room for a second before appearing once again as a normal summoning circle.

The summoning, for all extents and purposes, appears to be a dud.

However, Assassins very rarely arrives announced…

-0-

…It’s dark.

It’s very fitting for one such as the consciousness still preserved in this…area. Neither eternal torment nor everlasting pleasure, there’s only the eternal darkness surrounding the entity. The concept of time no longer holds any meaning in this existence.

Floating in a great, empty nothingness, and yet the consciousness accepts the fate with content.

Born in darkness, return to darkness, it’s just the way things are.

And yet, even within the great empty expanse, a voice could call out and pierce the silence.

…Another voice, it had been forever since…

-0-

The figure opened its eyes, quickly adjusting to the dim light of the motel room courtesy of the moonlight. It feels so very familiar, just like the lighting provided by the moonlight on those days. Well, that and the oil lamps, but Alamut rarely uses oil lamps for guard posts, too noticeable.

But enough about that! After a thousand years I’m finally free~, it’s time to conquer the wo-

Quiet.

Aww, but why? It’s not like he can hear us you know, unless of course he can read minds and such. Wait, can he do that?

…I said be quiet…

Fiiiiine.

The petite figure slowly steps out of the shadows, looking around for signs of immediate threat. Satisfied after her brief search, Assassin silently and quickly walks towards the one whose voice had pierced the darkness of eternity.

…But to think that it can summon the one such as me without a strong catalyst…the system is truly curious…

After a brief silence, a voice broke through the darkness of the motel room, a voice devoid of a vocal characteristic or emotion.

“…Servant Assassin answers your summon. Orders, Master?”

[William Debaere]

For the first few seconds, William thought the summoning had failed. With a sigh of diappointment he sat down on the bed and rubbed the corner of his eyes with his fingers.

"God I can't even do this ri..."

As he glanced again at the circle his eyes began to make out a shape standing there. So still, William hadn't even seen it in the semi-darkness.

For a long second he stared at it, his eyes slowly working out the short silhouette. His heart missed a beat for a second as he was reminded of Rose, the short, slim outline bearing a striking resemblance...

He shook his head to relieve his mind of the memories. This...person, was slightly taller than rose, more lithe and fit by appearance. Who were they? What kind of hero from legend looked like that?

He watched, motionless, as she stepped out of the shadows, he saw a hint of white hair, and sharp golden eyes that flickered this way and that before settling on him.

“…Servant Assassin answers your summon. Orders, Master?”

He stared at her for a second, dumbstruck. It had worked. Somehow, against all odds, he now had a servant. Maybe his luck was beginning to change after all.

An assassin eh? She didn't really look the part. Of course, she had had the perfect opportunity to kill him without him even noticing several seconds ago soooo...

"Er...Assassin is it? Well umm....orders...hmmm..."

He hadn't planned this far ahead. Now that he had a Servant, he thought they might go fight on their own initiative or something. Slowly it dawned on him that he would need a complicated plan of attack to use this Assassin to her fullest.

That came later, now the weight of the summoning was really starting to show its effects. William questioned if he could even stand up off the bed, his body was so sore.

"I guess your orders for tonight are to guard me and this building while I rest. There shouldn't be any problems though, we're a good way from the primary battlefield...ow this really hurts..."

He rubbed his arms gingerly, and caught sight of the glowing symbol on his hand. At first glance, it looked like a coin with a smiling face drawn into it.

He clenched his fist.

"By the way, my name is William Debeare; and I am, as you said, your Master it seems..."

He kept staring at the command seals. What was the etiquette for Servant-Master relations? His friend's notes hadn't specified.

"If there's anything you'd like to tell me about yourself, I'm all ears. If not...that's fine too."

[Hassan-i-Sabbah the 19th]

Her Master looks…confused. Perhaps he thought that the summoning was a dud, or perhaps he’s just a bit stunned after spending that much energy for the summoning. Either way, her Master’s wise to just lie down and rest now after that display, as to not exert his body a bit further than intended…That and his first reaction was…interesting. Is her appearance that much surprising?

Come to think of it, this body’s lighter than usual~.

…Our ‘prime’ is a bit…further than usual…it seems.

Assassin observes the man’s behavior; his body’s not behaving unlike what a normal and healthy grown man should. His joints and limbs looks sore to the touch, and it seems moving them are as much of a chore as an exercise judging from his expression. It seems the summoning ritual earlier took more energy than intended, a botched summoning. Fitting how it actually produces someone like her.

The hesitation from her simple question doesn’t exactly fill Assassin with confidence about her master’s current condition, and she has no objections about her master’s desire to rest his body for the moment. Even scouting with a sub-optimal body function could be disastrous.

“…Understood, Master. Please rest easy for now.”

She casts a glance towards her master’s command seal, it seems genuine enough from her perspective, with her own prana reacting strongly towards it.

“…There’s not much to reveal, Master. I am Assassin; I operate and strike from the darkness, the so-called ‘dishonorable’ way…Though I can adapt to almost any tactics you’ll employ, Master, except long-range ones…Those tactics are not my specialties…”

It’s true at least; some might say that she overspecializes as she can’t kill at long range, an obvious glaring weakness. None of those detractors ever doubted her prowess at close range battle though, a bit more…upfront than the usual Assassin’s MO.

“If you have nothing more to say, please don’t push yourself Master…” As if on cue, she materializes the skull mask and shadowy robe, her appearance changes instantly. It’s as if she almost blends herself to the shadows of the small room. “…rest yourself now, I’ll keep watch.” As if the shadows itself spoke, Assassin fades to the background as she said those words, leaving no trace of the figure in the room.

[William Debaere]

William ran his hand through his rough hair, and smiled to himself despite it all. This kid was telling him what to do, well, that wasn't an entirely new phenomenon to him. Rose had tried her best to take up the role of housekeeper for her overworked Dad.

Biting back the memories, he listened to his Servant speak. Young as she was she was also cold, as if her own breath would freeze in mid-air from the sheer icy sting of it.

She had called herself "Assassin" not "an Assassin" Whether she was just using the class name or not, he didn't know; but if she thought he was about to be bound by something like "honor" well.

"Well, I assure you. I'm not about to stop you over something like 'honor'. People are going to have to die, and I'm not going to be one of them. As long as I have your loyalty and skills, I'll do what I must to ensure I see the end of this thing. No matter what the cost."

He hated the bastard he was beginning to sound like, but he knew that's what it would take. He would have to abandon his morals, his ideals, everything. He'd have to start killing people and approving the deaths of others by his Servant to save the two that meant most to him. That was the kind of guy he used to hate, the selfish Clock Tower prick who put his demands over everyone else. The kind of person always in need of a punch in the mouth.

And the only kind of person who stood a chance.

He tried to avoid words like "Holy Grail" or "War", because he thought that if he didn't then maybe this whole thing might appear slightly less ridiculous to him. He was trying to get a wish, an impossible wish. Part of his conscience was telling him that what he wanted was unobtainable, but it was drowned out like a puddle in an ocean by the thought of seeing his family again.

The mask she had pulled out was creepy as hell, he'd give her that. Like a cross between a Halloween costume and a supernatural horror story. He couldn't even properly see her anymore, let alone find where her face was to talk to it.

"Another thing before you go: We'll need a way to gather information efficiently and discreetly, Assassin, both of us. I cant just sit around waiting to get killed while you go out scouting. We need to go incognito and get as much info as possible without raising suspicion. Any suggestions?"

[Hassan-i-Sabbah the 19th]

So he’s not someone who would let something like ‘honor’ restricts his action, that’s good. Honor was just something the knights of the franj invented to justify their bloodthirsty ways after all. It’s just not something that would exist in a real combat situation. There’s no honor in battlefields, only the will to survive, and it seems that this man has it in spades, judging from the look of his eyes.

Whatever his motivation is, his talks are all familiar, as perhaps came from a man that has lost everything in order to gain what in his mind is the ultimate prize. Fine with her, that’s what the participants of this war need to be, willing to sacrifice everything for this one prize. That’s what the wish for the Grail meant anyway, not just discovering your personal problems and then fix them, that’s why they never succeed.

It’s good that her Master recognized the need to kill someone in this war too. It’s proof that she’s not dealing with someone who’s naïve, a good start for her.

However, it seems that her current master is not the type to plan his detailed moves in advance, fair enough. It’s perhaps the fatigue getting the better of him, though she got the hint that his master’s looking to get all the facts in the clear before deciding on his next move. Assassin doesn’t mind both approaches, she can’t adapt to whatever approach his master decided to kill his enemies, it’s her specialty after all.

“…We can always go undercover, Master…As long as you hide your command seals we won’t be discovered.” She didn’t bother to step out of the shadows, as if to emphasize the point she’ll going to make. The words feel more like a voice in Bill’s head rather than a voice that belongs to someone else.

“Other servants can’t detect me unless I’m preparing to attack, so you can safely mingle in the crowd…just try to act natural when another magus detects you…they can turn out to be a Master, but that’s my job to find out.”

She hoped that the explanation was satisfactory, she wouldn’t want her Master to keep delaying his rest after all.

[William Debaere]

William groaned and stretched himself out on the bed. He was sore beyond all reason, and even now he felt his eyelids begin to grow heavy from the merciless siren song of sleep.

He contemplated Assassin's words. Was that who he was now, a mole, a guy who got by by pretending to be someone else until the hired gun got into position. And what a gun he had. A servant that could evade any other, that could certainly come in handy.

Still, he would have to play his cards carefully. He needed to get the drop on his opponents, not the other way around, and that required a dangerous balance of exposure and anonymity. He would need connections, information, people whose information could be trusted for the right price. For that, he'd need money, and there was only one kind of job Bill "The Bear" Debaere knew.

"Tell me, Assassin, how skilled are you in the mechanics of a criminal underworld? You're an assassin, a hitman..er..woman...by trade, after all. I believe that the best way to get information, resources, and the element of surprise we need is to cultivate a double identity. By day we split up and learn the city. I'll wander around, learn the geography, meet some honest people who might have seen things, you...we'll figure out something for you. You can't get all information by just watching for something to happen."

He was rolling now, even though he was lying down and had closed his eyes, sleep coming to take him.

" By night, we'll insert ourselves into the seedier part of the city's underbelly. Or at least I will. I'll just need you at my back like an invisible bodyguard in case things hit the fan.

All we need to do is locate an underground gambling ring. Legalized gambling or not, they exist. Mostly for those who don't have faces fit for public viewing, if you catch my drift."

He was talking like an old hand now, as if he'd been doing it all his life. He was a pretty straight-laced guy, but he'd dipped his feet in murkier waters on occasion.

"That's where we'll get our insider information. The sleazier the guy, the more eyes he has around the city. And any backroom gambler knows information can be worth its weight in gold.

So whaddya say? You in?"

[Hassan-i-Sabbah the 19th]

It would seem that after all the reassurances Assassin gave her master, it would prove not enough as her master still appears to be quite restless on his bed. It would seem that whatever he did with the summoning has some lasting consequences on his body. Or perhaps he’s still considering her earlier words, a chance of formulating some last minute strategic meeting with the annals of his mind. Assassin is fine with it. Of course, she can’t condone her master continuously trying to act tough for whatever reason now. It seems showing up without her guise as a first time greeting wasn’t the best idea in the world.

Though her master seems to be getting some ideas about where to start in this city, it’s not much but at least it’s a starting point. The gist of the plan is a bit…general, but it can’t be helped if he just came up with it on the fly. It sounds too much like leaving everything to chance. Not Assassin’s usual modus operandi, but for this one she might have to improvise. Listening to her master’s plan until its completion, Assassin is silent for a few seconds before she finally speaks.

“…I’ve used information from less than savory sources frequently in the past. They’re a good source of information…providing you have something suitable in order to exchange that information with…I doubt they’ve changed that much ever since that time.” It’s an age-old system, equivalent exchange. Why change something that works? “…I can’t say that I’m completely in favor with the idea of exposing yourself willingly to danger…but if you insist…” She doesn’t want her master thinks that she’s an incompetent that can’t protect her master from trouble.

Y’know, I think it’s better if we just scout the shady parts ourselves. S’what we did in the past anyway.

…Of course. But we can’t tell it to him now, not now…

“…But if that’s your wish, then so be it Master…Be sure to stay alert at all times.” The shadows from the side of the room appear to have moved ever so slightly, as if the shadows themselves gave good ol’ Will a subtle warning.

[William Debaere]

William felt his eyelids grow heavy as he stretched out on the bed, hands beneath his head. She had a point, this plan was risky. Hell, this whole damn grail business was risky and stupid and probably wind up with him dead in the streets, un-mourned and forgotten.

"I'm afraid so, Assassin. I've got no options but to throw myself in an oven and hope I don't get burned. That's why I need you to be my mystical...summoned...oven mitt...or something else that works with this metaphor...I don't even know..."

He was starting to doze off, the edges of his vision blurring into blackness. His mind wandered off its rails and into nonsense. He didn't feel worried, he could allow himself the feeling of security one last night. Tomorrow he was in the lion's den, with at least six other people specifically out for his blood from the get-go, and surely even more would come. Tonight, he was still far from the city, with Assassin here to defend him...

...Assassin...

He had mixed feelings about his new servant. No doubt she was competent, much more than he was at least. She wouldn't have been summoned otherwise...but why her? Why him? What did the two of them have in common beyond the fact that he needed her now?

And who had she been? No one is born a murderer, and no one dies without a story to tell...but she certainly didn't seem to be the one to tell it. Maybe she hadn't always been an assassin, maybe she had actually once been a normal girl...

He had a swift vision, that of his white-haired companion, in a school uniform, chatting happily amongst her friends. A nice thought...

But now he was rambling, his mind lost in half-baked visions, the face of his Servant indistinct and mixed with the face of his lost daughter.

Sleep was upon him now, nothing left to do but lie back and let it come...still, that school uniform was an interesting idea...perhaps something could be done with it...