[center][h1][b]Albert Prelati[/b][/h1]

Interacting with: Berserker ([@Grey])[/center]

[center][h2]Fuyuki Hyatt Hotel - 7:48 PM December 1st, 2012[/h2][/center]

[hider]Suddenly flat on his back, eyes staring at the ceiling, Albert rubbed the sore spot on his forehead where she had poked him. That was what he'd observed her doing anyway. A poke. It had felt more like a headbutt from a pro linebacker.

[i]Mon dieu...[/i]

He got back up, tipping the chair until it sat upright once again. He settled into it, relieved that Roland seemed either quick to forgive, or at least not as angry as her words had suggested.

"Is zat it zen, ma chère? Zat's everyzing? If all you desired was for me to be more frank wiz you, zen all you 'ad to do was tell me. Here, let me start. Ow, zat fucking 'urt, go rot in 'ell you stupid Servant."

He grinned to show his jest was all in good fun, then cleared his throat. "Now zen, as for your conditions, I do not believe I shall 'ave any problems aquiescing to zem. I do admit zat I find zem to be a bit old-fashioned, but it's not like I 'ad any plans to go around acting so villainously anyway. Ze Prelatis are not cowards, nor are zey so self-serving." [i]Wiz ze exception of one...[/i] Albert thought grimly to himself. "'Owever, do not come whining to me later when I 'old you to zem. What you tell me now is what I will base my strategies on, so if zere are any exceptions to zese rules zen you'd better speak up."

She spoke up again, a rather spooky smile accompanying her words. It sent a chill down his spine. Nevertheless, he felt overjoyed that she'd asked. As it just so happens he had the perfect mission for her.

"Ah yes, ze familiars. I 'ad almost forgotten about zem," he lied with a barely contained mirth. "Well, zey 'aven't really seen anyzing interesting just yet. Alzough, zere [i]was[/i] zis one busy little bee who told me 'e'd just seen Lancer and zat mercenary fellow's female accomplice murdered in cold blood just outside ze church by some mysterious masked man dressed all in black. Apparently 'e wore a turban and said somezing about Allah before 'e killed zem. I didn't zink 'e was telling me ze truth. I mean, it would be so unbelievably ridiculous for Lancer to be killed so early in ze game, but..."

He smiled wickedly. "Perhaps you would still like for us to investigate, ma chère?"

Albert didn't even feel the need to second-guess whether or not she'd take the bait. If there was anyone alive who hated Muslims more than conservative pundits, the Jews, and other Muslims, it was probably the great crusader Roland (although they'd been called "saracens" back then). Assassin would be an easy target. It concerned him somewhat that he'd managed to take care of Lancer so easily, but he was more than confident enough that Berserker could handle it. Her rage and righteous indignation would only add fuel to the fires of her bloodlust, and with as many spare eyes as Albert possessed, they would certainly never be caught off-guard by any Assassin. It was the perfect warmup exercise.

And so began the long awaited sequel to the smash hit of the tenth century a thousand plus years in the making. Deus Vult 2: Saracen Boogaloo.
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