Amari's eyes finally readjusted themselves, and the spots in her vision faded away. The hall was nearly filled with smoke from all the summoning spell, but Amari paid no attention to the rest of the Masters or Servants. As she lowered her arms, she dimly caught a glimpse of the red mark now adorning the back of her hand, but she ignored it in favor of the red figure standing in the circle.

[I]He's too muscular to be a Caster, I'm sure of that. Too flashy to be a good Assassin, and his eyes are to sharp and aware to be Berserker. That leaves Rider and the weapon based classes, but I see neither mount nor weapon. I don't recognize him from any of the books I've read, and the catalyst was beyond bizzare. Who could this possibly be?[/i]

Amari's entire internal dialogue took less than a second as she studied her Servant, her partner for the foreseeable future. She knew nothing about him, and that would have to change, but not right now. 

Belatedly, she realized she had been frowning intensely this whole time, her brow furrowed in thought. Now she smoothed her features with a concious effort, replacing her scowl with a small smile. Gently, she held out the hand with her command seals toward the Servant, palm upwards toward him.

"My name is Amari Vale, and I am your Master." She hated the sound of that. Leave it to a great mage family to label mages as above legendary historical heroes. Regardless of her own feelings, though, that's what she was, and she would just have to swallow it. "Please tell me your class."

While they were technically working together, Amari trusted these people less than strangers. She had already noticed enough were arrogant fools that she might spend more time fighting them than actual enemies. There was no sense giving them the advantage of her Servant's name.