[center][color=Deepskyblue][h1]Charles Dorvain[/h1][/color]

Wednesday, November 17th, 2015
12:00PM
WJ Marriot in Plaza San Francisco[/center]

Charles looked out the window of his apartment at all the people walking through the streets, taking a moment to breathe in the fresh air before letting out a sigh, wiping his brow clean of sweat as he turned back around, closing the window behind him as he did so. While Charles had arrived in his usual dress of a formal dress suit, he very quickly found that to be a mistake, and had traded it out with a simple white shirt and some jeans. Much less formal than how he usually dressed, but in this tropical climate, it seemed like the best option, not to mention that, in truth, it really helped him connect with his environment. The feel of the wind caressing his skin spoke to his soul very deeply in a way that he wasn't sure many others could, a feeling that had resonated in him ever since he'd started getting serious about magic. It was a nice feeling, but not as much as the anticipation that was setting his heart aflame right now.

[i][color=Deepskyblue]I wonder what Servant fate shall send to assist me in this bloody battle. A Saber? Rider? Perhaps even a Lancer? Ah, what does it matter, as winning this battle is only half as fun as participating in it.[/color][/i] A sharp grin spread across his face, his pale blue eyes a blaze as he prepared to begin. The bounded field had already been set up around the room to secure his privacy from wandering ears, and the summoning circle was laid out in front of him in a gleaming red. Before he begun, he made sure to do one finally check, making sure there were no imperfections in his work, as he wanted to leave his choosing up to fate entirely, not because he made a rookie mistake in summoning the circle. Once he was sure that nothing was out of place, he placed some incense he’d gotten in town around the circle, lighting them all with a few matches before he begun. 

The room was dark, as all the windows had been shut and covered by curtains, and the lights turned off, leaving him alone with nothing but the sickeningly sweet smoke, lulling him into a trance like state as he raised his hand, his eyes catching onto the red markings, vague and indistinct as they were, on his hand, the smile on his face growing just a bit wider as he felt that same rush burn through his body, almost as if his veins were about to ignite. And so he began to chant, his voice low and resonant within the room, was cast into the Annals of history and myth, beseeching the Grail to provide him with a Hero to serve his will and fight with him in the coming war. The markings on his hand began to burn, slowing gaining definition and form until a [url=http://pre15.deviantart.net/973e/th/pre/i/2012/036/8/8/custom_command_seal_by_lanyo120-d4optup.png]definitive marking[/url] took shape, emitting a deep crimson glow all the while. As soon as he finished his chant, the circle would burst in a flare of blinding light to signal the arrival of Charles’ Servant. Once the light died down and Charles could get a better view of his servant, he’d take a moment to gain his composure, the excited look on is fading quickly into one of stern professionalism.

[color=Deepskyblue]“Hello, my name is Charles Dorvain and I’m to be your master in this War. May we work well together in the coming days, either with grand victory or, failing that, enjoying ourselves in the glorious battles to come.”[/color]