Ilse Heilwig von Grimmelshausen understood, perhaps more than anybody, just exactly what she was walking into. As a free-lance magus, this was not her first dangerous mission, and with any luck, it wouldn't be her last. She had booked a cheap hotel room for the occasion, the type where the walls are stained yellow, everything spells like cigarettes, and nobody asks for ID. A German woman with stark white hair in the heart of Japan was sure to make a statement and while ordinarily Ilse wouldn't mind the attention, a grail war was not the time nor the place. The TV flickered on and off in the corner, some news station discussing the weather for the upcoming week. She sat on the edge of the bed with her legs crossed, a suitcase beside her. Seeing the pictures of suns, clouds, and rain she couldn't help but laugh. [Color=#89CFF0][b]"They have no idea..."[/b][/color] Soon after, the suitcase opened with a click. The remains of a winged saddle, falcon feathers frayed by time, and the leather peeled away. It belonged to one of the infamous Polish hussars, or at least that is what the salesman told her. The ritual of summoning was a simple one, the bed was now pushed to the corner to make room for the magical diagram required. The words came easily to her, though remnants here and there were drowned out by the television's talk of weather. [Color=#89CFF0][b]"I hereby declare. Your body shall serve under me. My fate shall be your sword. Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail If you will submit to this will and this reason…Then answer!"[/b][/color] The catalyst, the chant, her hand stamped with the mark of a true master, now all she had to do was wait... wait to see what ancient servant she had dug up from the grave and hope that he or she was a reasonable being whom Ilse could get along with, and if they seemed completely crazy, irrational, or simply polar opposite... [Color=#89CFF0][b]"Well then, I guess we could talk about the weather."[/b][/color] [@GubGar] [Center][img]https://i.imgur.com/qpXSIvf.png[/img][/Center]