"Okay." says the man that had ferried these wayward Magi to their current location, clapping his hands "Eyes." he pauses, making a 'watch me' motion at the Masters and Servants in front of him with his middle, and index fingers several times. "Eyes and ears on me." he demands, taking a seat on the windowsill behind him "So, I'm what one would call the 'Ashen Mandrake', and you're in an 'Odal Valley' nestled into the hillsides and mountain ranges of a 'Germany', this is a valley largely populated by Magi, and at the center of it is the nucleus of this little conflict, the 'Holy Grail'." he says, throwing up a quick quotation mark with each term he adds to his monologue "In this small valley, there are three villages, each of which has an Inn, or a Bed and Breakfast you can stay at, they're all connected by one road; right now we're a ten minute drive from the entrance into the valley, and the first town. Now that you're all conscious, and I've delivered a greeting to all of you, I'm going to take my leave, and return to whence I came, don't search for me, I will kill you, Servant or not if I see you again. Any questions?" he asks plainly, before he takes a step forward, knife in hand "No? Good." the Ashen Mandrake says lowly, returning his hat back to his head. He jumps off the loft, and returns to his van without any further word, driving it away without any conflict, either, which is awfully odd, considering the man just kidnapped a group of seven people in their late teens.

Lycυѕιo Vιcarιo

Lycusio had his brows furrowed in anxiety. Nothing made sense to him, and he was completely lacking in any sort of prior knowledge. It was similar to taking an astrophysics test without any prior knowledge beyond the acknowledgement of an existence called "Space". The tall man was practically an infant in the world of Magi, having only met a Magus a month prior.

Without any prior knowledge, Lycusio fell back on whatever discernment he could garner from the present. Every piece and part of his body ached with uniform severity although generally centered around his torso, and he appeared to be attached to a circle in which a girl before him appeared. Glancing around, Lycusio noticed the reactions of others; instead of his pure befuddlement, they understood and acknowledged their current situation, and instead, appeared either appalled or dismayed. Soaking everything within a second, he heard the girl before him in armor ask of him whether or not he was her master.

Lycusio's mouth opened to answer, but there was no clear reply to her question with his understanding, so he promptly shut his lips with a perplexed expression. Eventually, a man beside him asked Lycusio if he was alright. It then occurred to him that they were the only two that only had one servant to show. Unable to come up with a plausible conclusion, Lycusio simply nodded his head in affirmation of his wellness, listening to the man reply to his servant that he was her master.

"Well, I think there's been some folly, I'm most likely not your master, little one, if the other man already feels a connection to you, then I'm afraid my presence here is rather abnormal."

Lycusio couldn't deny that he was extremely drawn to the girl in armor, but he was unsettled and the other man had already claimed the position of master. In his eyes, the foreign concepts and variables were too numerous, usually in control, Lycusio was far too perplexed to be comfortable with the situation.

Lycusio began to back away when the man naming himself the 'Ashen Mandrake' gave out a sorts of introductory that did practically nothing to explain his situation. The 'Ashen Mandrake' announced his leave and Lycusio planned to make his hasty retreat as well. He had a feeling that even his extensive physical training would do nothing for him in the realm of Magi, and the atmosphere was thick with weariness from all sides. Lycusio was fairly experienced in dealing with tense situations, and gunfights have broken out with less animosity.

It was kind of hard for the younger magus to take notice to anyone else in the room, as her attention was claimed very firmly by the summoning circle in front of her and, subsequently, the man that appeared after the ritual completed herself. She smiled as he gave her a slight lecture about fear, something which definitely did calm her nerves in the foreign situation and the pain that was welling in her palm stopped. Or, rather, she stopped noticing it.

The hand offered to her was taken, Janiyah offered him her non-mangled hand and lifted herself up, taking notice of the odd pattern that had settled itself on the back of her hand as her bandages loosened themselves around her arm. After standing herself up with the help of her new partner, the young magus quickly tightened up her wrappings around her arms then suddenly hugged the man in front of her, not noticing his somewhat menacing appearance as she did so.

She withdrew almost as quickly as she advanced, and stood in front of her Servant. Though the bandages around her face made it somewhat hard to see that she was smiling, her eyes being nearly closed were a pretty good indicator. "I'm not sure if you know or not, but my name is Janiyah Crocker. It's very nice to meet you."

It was only after she said that that she allowed herself too look around, at the other Masters and the other Servants. As she expected, almost everyone was taller than her. No surprises. Other than the very clear high difference that she took note of, it did look like everyone there was legitimately threatening. However this played out, it'd definitely be interesting. Her attention once again flew away from the other Masters to this.. Passion Pancake? The name didn't really matter, the gist of his message was what was important, and the corners of her mouth tugging into a light frown as he mentioned his.. "death clause" as it were.

It was only after the man who brought them there brought up mortality that Janiyah realized how dangerous this situation could possibly be, with so many Masters and Servants stuffed into one small area.

She whispered to her Servant, tugging on his wrist lightly. "I'm trusting that you'll follow with haste when I make my way out of here. The last thing we want is to be caught in some kind of cross-fire, or be targeted."

Rika arrogantly stated the fact that she'll be the one to take this person on to herself; "Interesting, that's my line and I look forward to that." Meanwhile she have summoned the Berserker, a servant clad in blackness, jet black of the pitch black, darkness and all the black coloring you could find in the world; as dark as the abyss. She had one question but this Ahsen Mandrake guy just disappeared, Rika wanted to ask something regarding elemental magecraft but screw that since the man left with no manners. Currently, Rika wanted to take advantage of having her servant wreak havoc.

Afterwards she addresses everyone with the disrespectful mannerism that her mother language uses お前 (Omae) with the 大好きな曲(Omaetachi). In Japanese it offensive, "I'm getting the hell out of here. No way I will be packed like sardines with the rest of you filthy mongrels, not like I'm into such wishing device but it is kinda tempting. Get in my way and I'll burn you all to ashes." Nonchalantly stating the fact that she's not cool with the rest of the masters and servants, bluntly like a tiger glaring at its prey. Rika successfully declare her statement in three different languages, Japanese, English, and German. It's like declaring war against many countries. Along with her ignition of flame magecraft as an aura, it would normally startle everyone in the room if they don't have a brain. Then she grinned and reconsiders it, "But if any of you whole lot would so like an alliance with me then it is most certainly natural that you do the same and get the hell out of here." She walks away slowly to see if anyone retaliates from her threatening.

"Let's go Berserker. We'll take on high quality magi instead of these third-rates." Rika really didn't mean what she said but her aloof expression tells that she really mean it. The cover of the book is easily judged if no thought is pierced.

What the hell? Darryl frowned. Hold up, Caster. Looks like he's not gonna be as talkative as we thought. Maybe we can still get some answers from him if we try to-

But he was already gone, leaving more than six Masters and Servants in a small, enclosed space together.

"Well that explained absolutely nothing," Darryl grumbled.

Figuring he and Caster were free to go, he grabbed his belongings and wrapped the red tie of his student uniform tightly around his lacerated hand. On a whim, he decided to take Caster's advice about ascertaining her identity with clairvoyance, and opened a channel with her. They didn't seem to be in any immediate danger here, and if they were it'd be nice to know what he had to work with.

He let the entirety of her being into his mind, and what he saw was...

Darryl flinched, momentarily taken aback by the information he'd received from her. Stats, abilities, height, weight. He knew it all now, even her identity.

He took a deep breath.

"Well, not that it hasn't been fun being kidnapped and extorted for blood with you all, but I think I'm gonna call it a night. Anyone who wants to follow me home so they can get a cheap-shot in while my back is turned is welcome to try. Everyone else, I look forward to seeing you on the battlefield tomorrow. Good night, and good luck. Trust me, you're gonnna need it."

He said the last part under his breath as he walked out with Caster.

--------------



At Lee's suggestion, Lancer took a look around the room at the other Masters and Servants. She put a finger on her chin, and cocked her hand on her hip.

"Hmmm... I dunno, the tension in this room is really harshing my mellow, man. Even if I was in the mood just after being summoned, I don't think anyone here would want to. I mean I'd ask the scary lookin' onee-san that just left but she's super-scary. I'm not into bandages girl over there and Archer looks like she'd rather get inside me in a way that'd really, really hurt."

Her eyes fell on Saber. "Well hello~"

With a sudden, crazy burst of speed, perhaps something greater if even the mighty Saber class was not able to follow it, Lancer appeared behind the tiny knight in shining armor before anyone realized she had even moved. She wrapped her arms around her.

"Well aren't you just the cutest thing!" she exclaimed. "You're exactly my type! You wanna join me and my Master for a little fun before the War starts?"

One hand began carressing Saber's cheek while the other furiously worked to undo the clasps that held her armor together, like she was unhooking a heavy metal bra.

"So, what do you say Master?" Lancer asked while she worked. "Are you into the goth-loli type or do you prefer a girl with a bigger chest like me?"

Lee hoped that the other Masters would not take offense to his Servants comments. He would much rather start this Grail War of on a happy note, with everyone failing to notice him and all. Lee raked his hands through his brown hair, Lancer was definitely not taking this whole thing seriously.

"Lancer, don't you think..."

Lee was cut short by the sudden disappearance of Lancer. Her sudden reappearance startled him even more. She had teleported, or appeared across the room, directly behind Saber. It seemed that his fears had came true, one of the Servants that he wanted to avoid was the one his Servent went to. Lee face palmed, she was going to be a hand full.

"Lancer, were leaving. Unhand her and let us be in our way, you'll have plenty of opportunities to have you way with her later in this War." his voice stern and his eyes hard. Suddenly he grinned, "Im not into loli-con, that should give you your answer though."

Lee placed his hands in his pocket, ignoring the brazen remarks of Caster's and Berserker's Master's. Making threats this early in the game was asking to get themselves killed, but alliances made sense to him. Despite everyone in this room being untrustworthy Mages, he was in this to survive. Although he did not know what he wanted the Grail for, he would fight for it anyway, it would be entertaining in the long run. As Lee walked out the front of the building, Lee cast a thumbs up at Berserker's Master, signaling that he was interested in her alliance, it would benefit him in the long run to ally himself with Berserker, it was the one he most concerned about next to Saber.

A chill ran down Mesman's spine as he heard his servant voice her desire to kill every servant...possibly even master. Putting a finger to her lips, he whispering: "Hey! Shh. That's not how we're going to do things..." After he spoke, he paid mind to the words of their mysterious gatherer. "...Mandrake..." he thought to himself, thinking that he might have heard that title before. Such an accolade was definitely to be associated with killing. After all, no simple magi gets a name denoting such a deadly beast...plant. Beast plant. Holding Archer's hand, he started to lead her away, not wanting to get into any fights at the moment.

"Alright, first thing's first, we gotta find a place to stay." he said, starting to try and think of how to play this. He knew that the Servants didn't really DIE persay once killed, even if people died when they were killed. The Throne of Heroes would just swallow them back up. As such, he started to wonder if he could end the war with no Master casualties. It'd certainly be difficult, but otherwise it'd denote that he'd have to take someone's life. People he didn't even know. Sighing deeply to himself, he covered his blind eye with his free hand. "...What the hell am I gonna do..."

The prospect of taking someone's life was an uneasy subject for him, he usually served to detain his targets rather than eliminate. He was no Judge, nor an Executitioner, but hey, he has served on a jury before.

It was ne'er the place of a Servant to question to lead of their Master; Archer knew that much. Silence and solitude, that would be helpful to her. It would keep the voice at bay, and stave off the desire to fight - for a while. So, she followed him. "Your hand is soft. Such softness is uncommon of the men I know," she commented. "What are we going to do? What am I going to do?" Archer had many questions, "What are you going to do? Will you fight? Will you hide? Where shall we go? How long shall we stay? Can we get something to eat? Meat, perhaps? I like meat..." and, she intended to ask them all in transit.

"Do you like girls or boys?"

Whether they would be answered or not was to be seen.

"That seals our contract then. Hereby my sword shall be thy swords and thy fate shall become my fate." Saber said when her supposed master addressed her in a rather meek way, unfitting of one who sought the Holy Grail, though, there was a irregularity in her situation and thus she said to the other man before her, just as he was about to leave "Thy fate shall become mine too, young man. As for reasons unbeknown to me, both of you seem to be my Masters. Though, in different degrees. We shall sort it out once we're in safe haven as this place holds too many harms."

Saber knelt down before the men, swearing her oath of fealty, as the Code of Chivalry demanded "Thereby I, Servant Saber, pledge my loyalty to My Lord and His Lady. By my sword and the Cross, symbol of Christ, son of our Lord who lay in the Heavens, this oath shall not be broken until My Lord sins against Our Lord, the Almighty, or breaks the holy tenets of the Code of Chivalry."

While Saber pledged her oath, the other Servants as well as their Masters began to leave the gloomy barn. Some of the spouted vain threats and some decided to remain silent. Saber would abide to join the later group along with her Masters if not for Lancer, closing in her so fast that Saber could barely twitch an eyebrow before the buxom woman was groping her and trying to remove her armor in order to engage in lecherous behavior unfitting for someone of Saber's stature.

In a single, swift move, Saber brought her Noble Phantasm into being, before swinging the blade at Lancer's neck, in a very telegraphed attack that no Heroic Spirit worthy of their fame would get hit by, as long as they backed alway from Saber, that's. "Stay away from me. I don't know who you have been on your life, or what were your tastes, Lancer, but I don't partake in such behavior. Unless, of course, you want to have your way by defeating me in a duel."



Saber then pointed the her blade at Lancer's face, the tip of glittering crystal sword was dangerously close to the tall woman's breasts. Probably the only other Servant that would know what a Noble Phantasm like that meant would be Caster but any mage worthy their salt would. A blade made of pure, glittering crystal, that seemed to radiate a rainbow colored light out of its own could mean only one thing in a mage's book, The Second Magic -Kaleidoscope- owned by the infamous Wizard Marshall. Anyone who knew what that meant would recognize Saber's Noble Phantasm as a real problematic thing to deal with.

Saber then turned to her Masters and said "I ask for your permission to engage Servant Lancer in a duel, in the name of my tarnished chastity, Master. Though, if you order so, I'm willing to not carry this to the death." As Saber waited for her Masters' reply, she kept Lancer in check with her sword, never averting her eyes off of the big chested vixen.

.@LokiLeo789@Turboshitter@OldManWong@SlamJamcity

With a rather amused expression upon her face as she perceived Darryl's reaction, Caster spoke to him once more through their master servant connection after his fiery little parting speech.
"Amusing that you have the gall to say that in front of all of your competitors. Well, with a servant like me I can say your confidence is warranted."
However, this minor response came to an abrupt end as it seemed that already an altercation occurred between servants inside the stuffy barn. It seemed that the Lancer class servant had decided to engage in confrontational conduct not particularly violent in nature against the Saber class servant. Obviously from the Saber servant's bearing of nobility and traditional chivalry, an immediate rejection complemented by a violent rebuff had occurred. Perhaps this would initiate the first battle of this war. With piqued interest and curiosity that did not at all take into account the scope of seriousness this situation entailed, Caster turned and began to observe the scuffle.
"Young man, I suggest we stay for this parade. It will help us gauge their abilities while we can merely act as bystanders without revealing anything."
Caster noticeably did not address Darryl as her master, and even her title of deeming him to be but a young man was laced with subtle condescension. Events took a superbly interesting turn when Saber immediately revealed her noble phantasm, which gripped Caster's own interest with an iron hand. It was a limited effect type mystic code suited towards initiating the mystery of the Second Magic. An exceptionally rare artifact that would have been a treasure even in the Age of Gods. The Second Magic itself was not something Caster was unfamiliar with, and she herself was capable of utilizing an aspect of it but in a way more similar to renowned martial artists of the East. Drawing from her extraordinary knowledge in magecraft, Caster discerned that this was likely not a tool to directly access the full extent of the Second Magic, but rather a siphoning tool designed to provide an infinite amount of expendable prana by accessing magical energy from the countless parallel dimensions in existence. An exceptionally formidable tool, but one that was severely limited by the user's magical capacity. An ordinary magus for example, would not be able to use such a sword to its maximum effect as their upper limit would be to say expend two hundred units of prana. Thus the sword would replenish these two hundred units instantly, allowing for an endless usage of two hundred units. Obviously, a servant with say a thousand units would be able to abuse this weapon to a far superior degree. Of course, Caster could not glean any direct specifics, and the weapon's status as a noble phantasm may have imbued it with a multitude of additional effects Caster would not comprehend without witnessing them.

"Whoa!" Lancer said as she strained her neck to avoid the sword. The Servant disappeared and then reappeared a meter away in short succession, almost without time lag. If they truly could be said to be moving at all, it was fast.

"That was too close!" she said, rubbing her neck where the sword would have struck her. "You play some pretty mean pranks, Saber-chan. Not all of us have fancy body armor like you do. What if that had hit me and cut open my pretty little neck? Guys aren't into girls with holes in their necks, you know. Well, I guess some of them are, but those are the kinds of guys I don't wanna share my body with!"

Twin spears with dagger-like tips slid out of Lancer's spacious sleeves. She pointed one at Saber.

"If a fight's what you want, Saber-chan, I'd be more than happy to oblige. I'll shove my long, hard shaft into you and have you take responsibility with your body~" She licked her lips. "Is that okay, Master?"

--------------


Darryl sighed. I don't see how we have a choice. This information is too valuable to pass up. Kinda ruins the dramatic exit though...

Lycυѕιo Vιcarιo

Lycusio wanted to exclude himself from this event of Magi, but unfortunately, it seemed the servant before him had already pronounced him master. He sighed with a complex expression and nodded in acknowledgement to his fate. Lycusio quietly monitored the ebb and flow of the conversation among other masters letting out a breath of relief. That was, until some other chick ran over and started groping Saber like a very aggressive molester.

Lycusio was somewhat concerned for the sake of the girl who had just pronounced her loyalty to him, but it quickly became apparent to him that she could defend herself with a sweep of her sword that looked to kill. She then asked Lycusio and his 'Lady' whether to flee or fight. Lycusio instantly tensed to the point that his pants rippled with the tremendous amounts of "Oh shit"-clenching.

"Ah, let's not do that, little one, fighting would be the worst case scenario for all of us." He says in a strained voice, quickly striding over while Lancer unsheathed her weapon. Gently pushing the pointed lance away from Saber, he turned to face his servant with a gracious but strenuous smile. "You can regain your dignity on better circumstances, little one, let's leave for now so my slow mind can collect itself."

With a steady spin on the heel, Lycusio faced Lancer and bowed apologetically, although it was fairly obvious he was well practiced to such motions. Raising his head with the same smile, he apologized, "I'm sincerely sorry for this misunderstanding, please excuse us as we take our respectful leave." He muttered, backing away slowly while blocking Saber from Lancer's sight with his fairly sizable frame.

Those Masters leaving the barn soon realize, with their feet sinking into the fragrant grass, and sprouting roses beneath them, that the morning's dew has set in, and the sun has begun peeking over the circular mountain range around Odal. Its rays begin to bathe the heavily forested valley in light, as each Master soon realizes not only how hungry they have become, but how tired the entire ordeal has left them, and the scent of cooking meat and fish nearby is beyond alluring. Beyond wild ferns, and worn oak, a blanket of fog nearly smothers the small village of Linden, colorful Slavic houses line up in an orderly queue, broken up by an Inn, a Bed & Breakfast, and a puny Smithy situated in between the two. Already a sinewy man with a brazenly shaven beard is sitting back in a dirty olive lawn chair, his feet are kicked up on his worn anvil as he fits vibrant feathers on a vanilla colored arrow, covered in designs consistent with a Magi-smith's craft. He huffs a pipe in silence, listening to a small record player balanced on a second, smaller red lawn chair, the vinyl record rotates quickly, playing a track by 'Dio'. Judging by the glorious opening riff echoing through the slick brick roads of Linden, he's listening to 'Rainbow in the Dark'. Eventually, a small white haired girl skips out of the ancient door behind him, hopping down the stairs, and onto the gravel below, she then runs over to the vintage record player, and manages to drag the surprisingly resilient device off of her chair. She dusts off any black powder and soot from her assigned seat, and takes her place, kicking her feet upon a slightly smaller anvil from her father's.

The two sit in silence, nodding slowly to the rambunctious beat and tempo of Ronnie James Dio, blanketed by the shade of the circus tent above them, a rather average sized, short haired black woman swings open the heavy door to the Inn beside them, the strange pair of blacksmiths pay her no mind as they enjoy the early morning; even when she starts batting down a rug of the Persian variety with a cricket bat. "Fenrir, would you turn that down?" she asks the Blacksmith with an easily recognizable Scottish accent, Fenrir just waves his hand dismissively at her, and says "No, Jacklin." a crashing wave of gray smoke disperses from his lips, which barely part as he speaks. Jacklin lets out a frustrated huff, and drags her expensive Persian carpet back inside the hulking inn. She lays it down with leisure, in front of a carefully constructed counter, covered with keys that rattle on their own, and brightened by a towering silver lamp. Once she's satisfied with the straightness of her tremendously expensive carpet, Jacklin stands up again, stretching with a tremendous yawn, she finally relaxes, and hops over the counter, taking her seat on a renovated bar stool hidden behind it. She pulls an old fashioned Ipod from her back pocket, with a pair of headphones to block out the loud classic rock outside, and confides in sorting out the rusty keys in front of her; all of which begin shaking violently at her tenacious touch. "Blast these feckin' keys." she grumbles aloud, sorting them with much angry huffing, and vexed growling.

Just past the Smithy, the Bed & Breakfast starts waking up, and its owner, Eme, comes rushing out with a smoking pot, she sets it down with a worried gasp, several children, all dressed up in aprons that are several sizes too large, all follow suite, they seem younger than the blacksmith's daughter, and much more timid; clinging onto their mother's blouse as they peer at the smoldering pot with wide, blue eyes. Eme shoos them back inside, ushering them in in flustered German, she then directs her attention to Fenrir and his daughter, who's begun rearranging her father's tools "Could you please turn that down?!" she requests in shaky English, which Fenrir promptly replies with "No, Eme." as if this had become a daily routine. Eme just stomps her foot in protest, and rushes back inside the small Bed & Breakfast with gusto, charging through the short entrance hall, and past the long dining table beyond it, and into the kitchen. Already all of her children are getting out more cooking supplies for their mother, greeting her with smiles, and exuberant waves, which Eme responds to in kind with a reassuring "guten Morgen!" and a forced smile, she soon gets back to the stove she was originally working on, until her oatmeal had burst into flames - somehow - and returns to the eggs and bacon she had been cooking. The breakfast foods she had been preparing all share the same massive metal pan, sizzling on the butter she had lathered underneath them earlier, she grasps both handles - with her bare hands - and drags the steel platter to the island counter in the center of the kitchen, beside a sizable jug of warm milk, and a pile of pancakes. She claps her hands with an excited "Gut!", and snaps her fingers, snuffing out the raging fire under her wood stove with that simplistic incantation, she then waltzes over to the opposite side of the kitchen, to a large three tub metal sink, mounted on another counter, which is monitored by a golden rosary hanging from a large metal stake.

Just as Eme begins to relax, a loud series of energetic foot steps comes cascading down the hardwood footsteps to the second floor of her house, a man in a hula shirt, and a pair of baggy shorts arrives in the dining room, readjusting a pair of purple aviators. "Guten morgen!" he sings with an excessively American accent, before he picks a small messenger bag up from the end of the table, and the loud mouthed American slings it over his shoulder, spinning on his sandal-clad heel. "Adieu!" he exclaims "I'm out to get those groceries you've been asking for." is all he says before he's out the door, and Eme is peering into the empty dining room, trying to find the words to warn her patron that she made breakfast for him, but fumbling on the execution. Outside, the American gives Fenrir and his daughter a high five, and tosses a pebble at the humongous front window to Jacklin's diner, chuckling with a playful grin as Jacklin opens the gaping portal, and throws a tacky pen at him. It misses him by a centimeter, and lands on the brick road around him with a quiet 'clatter', he ignores this as he starts jogging to the next town over: Idalia, which is host to the bustling shopping district he's looking for. There's crippling vacancies in both the Inn and the Bed and Breakfast, and surely bed and board come cheap here in Odal... right?

"Be thankful to my master, Lancer." Saber said s she dismissed the glinting sword back to the aether. She still faced Lancer with imperial composure, a steely gaze that would put even that womanizer Astolfo back in his place when he started to get too cozy with Saber, stared up at the tall, buxom woman as the petite knight said "I, Charlotte, who once ruled this land under the name of Charlemagne, swear that my blade shall be the one to strike down your spears once we cross paths again."

Saber then turned her back to Lancer and started to walk away along with her Masters, just to turn and address Darryl before leaving "Caster's Master, you seem like the only one here worthy of proposing an alliance to. Once my Masters have settled their workshop, come discuss the terms, of you're interested."

Despite her royal bearing in the presence of others, once Saber was alone with her Masters, she couldn't help but puff her cheeks and pout "Why you did that, Master? That vixen molested me and insulted both of you and still you allow her to walk away like that?" Behaving every sliver like the little girl that she looked like.

.@OldManWong@SlamJamcity@Turboshitter@LokiLeo789

The assumed master took his hand and used it to bring her to a standing position. As soon as she was up she started to adjust the bandages that covered her body, and fell forward into a hug which lasted only long enough for him to notice it. The master looked up and showed a cloth smothered smile.

"I'm not sure if you know or not, but my name is Janiyah Crocker. It's very nice to meet you." The master greeted the servant in the nicest manner possible, given the circumstances.

The servant turned his head left and right and surveyed the room… master and servants surrounded them. A couple was already beginning to look threatening. A man clapped and demanded the attention of all servants and masters. He explained that the new grail war was beginning and the location was Germany… This could not be coincidence, this cannot be by chance. This was fate, to be given a second chance, his wish was granted. If anyone could see under his mask they would see the most horrifying lip-less grin. But something snapped him out of his momentary happiness, a small tug on the leather cuff stitched and glued to the arm of the suit. The master whispered to the servant, "I'm trusting that you'll follow with haste when I make my way out of here. The last thing we want is to be caught in some kind of cross-fire, or be targeted." The current situation was dangerous for sure. If the servants stayed much longer this could quickly become a terrible blood bath, this realization sent a small amount of panic into the servant’s head, at which point he realized his class for the first time… Assassin? “I don’t think that’s right… I never did anything even slightly in relation to cloak and dagger…” Assassin thought, but that wasn’t important at the moment. They needed to get out of this soon-to-be gladiatorial arena. He needed to protect his Dominus and could not let her come to harm.He also realized that he could not allow harm to come to himself for that would be the end of the the Holy Grail War right then and there. He nodded in assent and got into a position to run, through the walls of the rotting barn if need be.

@Cinderella Man

Tharana carefully inspected her intricate handiwork to definitively secure the perimeter of the Idalia grocery store. In a circular area completely encompassing the store, a pattern of what appeared to be otherworldly spines were staked, oozing forth a sludge that emitted an unique magical energy that Tharana directed into an advanced boundary field around the store. Already ordinary people were streaming out of the store with a dazed look upon their faces, as if they were mindless puppets being led astray. They would not remember thus ordeal, and they would continue to travel for perhaps an hour to where they perceived their residences were before the extra dimensional toxin flowing through their bodies eroded. With a minor ritual, Tharana had also applied the basic concepts of the Buddhist bounded field and caused the shop to naturally repel ordinary people as if they did not recognize it's existence. All of this had been performed in the span of just five minutes, establishing Tharana's exceptional prowess in magecraft. In addition, by using a magical toxin drawn from another dimension, just a mere pittance of energy signatures would be released as if Tharana had simply performed a single action spell. Of course the Ashen Mandrake would notice the irregularity in the store's atmosphere, but Tharana would intercept him regardless. All conceivable exists had been secured by masses of writhing tentacles crowning disembodied lavender eyeballs that scrutinized these exists for any signs of an escaping being with potent magical energy. They were not incredible sentries, and would probably be easily dispatched by the Mandrake but regardless they would act to slow him down.

Tharana herself had prepared for combat with her standard preparations. Her two favored horrors were already summoned to aid her in battle. They were parasitic beings that rooted themselves to a shoulder each, and manifested as a serpentine mass of plum purple flesh that constantly writhed and twisted in a Flux of motion, as if it could not decide on its shape. These tendrils were around four meters long in length and half a meter wide in thickness, and would provide a peerless offense and defense through their malleable shape shifting bodies on par or even exceeding the capacities of the Volume Hydragryum of the El Melloi family.

With an eerie placidity, Therana walked into the main entrance of the store and prepared to engage the fabled Mandrake in combat, waiting for his first move as he had the advantage of surprise.

Leading Archer away towards the main road to the town, Mesman clutched his stomach as they walked. "...Well...You and me, we're going to head into town and find a place to stay. Then, we're going to try and formulate a strategy for the war. We're going to town, and I don't know how long we're staying for. I suppose until the end of the war, is how long we're going to be here. I'm starving too, so yeah, let's get something. Meat sounds good right about now..." Looking back at Archer curiously at the last statement, he says: "Never really met a girl I like that much, but I'd say women for sure."

With all of Archer's questions answered, he made his way into the town, breaking through the morning fog with Archer in tow as he walked down the brick road of the German town, looking around for anything that resembled a hotel, or someplace to stay. Lo and behind, two layed before him. Weighing the option he had between the Inn and the Bed-N-Breakfast, he opted to go for the smaller place. "The other Masters will no doubt be here...besides, we need food now." he decided, a grumble of his stomach pressuring him to go towards the delicious smelling Bed-N-Breakfast. Bumping into the man with the hula shirt, he apologized promptly, blaming his lack of sight in one eye to himself as he opened the door. "Hallo" he greeted the owner and the children. "My sister and I were looking for a place to stay for a week or two." he explained in almost perfect German.

Lee pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in fusturation. It was abit to early to start a fight, yet Lancer went ahead and started one. In retaliation of Lancers actions, Saber called upon the Code of Chivalry, and demanded a fight with Lancer. Lee was sure that Japanese Samurai were not bound by the same code, Bushido was it? Lee was not sure, again, his knowledge of Japanese history was abit lacking.

Saber swiftly brought out her Noble Phantasm and pointed it at Lancer's neck. Lee made no move to stop her, or to warn Lancer. He remembered the Master of Caster's words, he had proclaimed that he was leaving, yet they had stayed. It made sense, with the break out of a fight, they could observe, they were already able to get a look at Saber's Noble Phantasm. Lee looked back at Lancer in time to see her retaliate by bringing out her spears, adding some provocative comments in as she did.

"Lancer, back off." Lee, raking his hand through his hair exasperatedly.

Thankfully, it seemed that the Master of Saber was on Lee's side in this matter. He had successfully calmed Saber down, since her blade dissaperaed. Lee sighed, that was too stressful for him, hopefully this would not happen to often. He was surprised to see Saber's Master apologize to Lancer, Lee had a new found respect for the Master. It even moved Lee to pity him when his Servant reveled her true identity, Charlemagne. Lee would have never guessed that he was a her, history seemed to get a lot of things wrong.

"Lancer, were leaving." Lee said simply as he walked out the barn door. "Oh, and one more thing, Master of Berserker, I would like to propose and alliance if you so please." Lee said before he left once and for all.

Lee's boots sunk into the soft grass, a feeling the Lee wasn't used to. The first rays of the sun began peeking over the mountains, which meant that he had spent the night here. The scent of cooked meat filled his nostrils, instantly making his mouth water. Because of his kidnapping, he had missed dinner last night. The family is going to be concerned if I don't contact them. I needed to get organized. Lee thought to himself. Lee walked towards the village, as he made his way towards the settlement, he could sense the ebb of magic in the air, Eastern Magic to be specific. From the hill Lee could see almost the whole town, there was a concentration of mana at a building not to far from the Inn. It was a Boundary Field that was extremely advanced, but not beyond comprehension. This quiet town was about to get a lot of action.

Archer raised an eyebrow. 'Sister, hm? Such games we play. I have never been a sister. I wonder, how does it work? Should I--' Suddenly, the woman was broken from her thoughts, but the rumbling of her stomach. "Brother. I wish to end my fast brought by travel. I require meat!" she says, boisterously. "Fish. Pork. Such things have great purpose in my diet," she says, adding, "wheat breads with cheese and dried figs, as well!"

A true Athlete's Diet, if the method still stood in this day and age.

"And, much wine!" Archer added, hastily. "Would be a tragedy to dine without."

Soon enough, Therana's target skips down the paved road leading to the oblique grocery store, already the surrounding people are attempting to avoid the apparent tourist as he slips in between farmers and bored townsfolk, quietly singing 'Combine Harvester' as he enters the grocery store; apparently ignorant to Therana's trap. He pulls out a terribly maintained notebook, flipping to the page where he had written down his shopping list, he gets to work, picking out all means of vegetables, and blatantly ignoring the Magus. The tourist's features are wholly consistent with the Executioner, short black hair, caramel eyes, heavily stacked, muscular frame. The only feature missing is his callousness, if anything this American tourist is an exuberant air head.



A housewife in her thirties peers out from the Bed -n- Breakfast's kitchen, from a glance, the woman has all the features of a compulsive mother, wide hips, sizable chest, and hardly noticeable stress wrinkles located around her mouth. But once Archer, and Mesman (however blurred) get a better look at her, the blonde haired, and blue eyed woman looks strikingly youthful. "Oh, welcome!" she exclaims in fluent German, she stands at her full height in the doorway at the end of the entrance hall, and sets her hands on her hips with an optimistic smile "My name is Eme, this is my Bed and Breakfast for wayward travelers, and you have arrived just in time for breakfast! if you and your sister are hungry at all." she offers, her children already devouring a surprisingly large portion of breakfast food in her dining room. "You can take a seat if you would like, I'm just finishing up in the kitchen."