[color=tomato][h2][s]Berserker[/s] Totally-Saber Emperor Norton[/h2][/color]

[i]But let thy eyes be clouded by chaos.
Thou who art trapped in a cage of madness...[/i]

█̡̡̀͘▇̵͞҉̕͢▇̶̡▉̵͡͡͞▃́̕͟͝͠▉̨͏̷̷̡▉̨͏̷̷̡▉̨͏̷̷̡▉̨͏̷̷̡▉̨͏̷̷̡ ▇̶̡▉̵͡͡͞!!!

Such is what could have been expected to be heard. The standard greeting/confirmation was meaningless to the Berserker class, and no Master of previous Grail Wars had provided records of chatting pleasantly with a Berserker, to say the least.

[sub][color=tomato]"What dismal wheeze of a walking stick is [i]this?[/i]"[/color][/sub]

Sleek with muscle and heroic sinew telling of hard-fought conquests and victories, shining with otherworldly power and grace...that was [i]not[/i] what Lord Stirner had summoned. As the light of summoning a Heroic Spirit into a Servant container, a miracle in and of itself, faded, there was a somewhat portly gentleman with an 1800s Navy uniform, an umbrella in one hand, a peacock feather tucked into his top hat, and a truly rich set of facial hair. 

A mustache brimming with vigor! A beard that spoke of...of... the Servant had already picked up his Master's crutch, and was curiously turning it over in his hands with a frown.  Stroking his beard, the man scrutinized the crutch, poking it a few times, then shaking it as if expecting it to suddenly reveal some secret majesty. Then his eyes lit up, the [s]completely mistaken[/s] brilliant Emperor's insight cluing him to the- oh no nevermind, he'd snapped it into three pieces. One stayed in each hand, while the third whirled through the air, bonked off the ceiling, and landed on the bed.

...

[color=tomato]"Sorry, lad! That was yours, wasn't it? I've gone and broke the silly thing. Not as sturdy as they used to make them, are they? Here!"[/color] It was only fair he provide suitable replacement until something more fitting could be used, so the even-minded Emperor didn't hesitate to offer his umbrella, which his Master's sight could probably recognize as linked to his Noble Phantasm. [color=tomato]"Oh, yes, proceedings! Servant..."[/color] The portly gentleman patted himself down as if trying to remember where he'd put his keys, before his eyes zeroed in on his umbrella, knowing of the sword it concealed. [color=tomato]"Saber! Emperor of the United States, Norton the First!"[/color] He wasn't trying to deceive his Master, which would be pointless anyway, but since the Emperor was clearly perfectly sane just then as he was in life, he couldn't possibly be Berserker, [b]right?[/b] Thus, since he had kind-of-a-sword, that made him Saber! Flawless logic.

[color=tomato]"Are you my Master, lad?"[/color]