[h1][color=00aeef]Ernest LaCreux[/color][/h1]

[h2]Western Fuyuki Roadside, Near the Forest[/h2]


   The survey of the city had been rather uneventful thus far. For his part, Ernest had tried to familiarize himself with the streets as well as he could. He had been distracted in this endeavor, however, by the arrival of his familiar at the church. Unfortunately, the magus was incapable of speaking through his chosen familiar. Human Thralls were certainly capable of speech, so long as their vocal cords were mostly intact, but the bird was a bit problematic in that regard. It was unfortunate, but the dove had been sent primarily for reconnaissance purposes anyway. Through the bird, Ernest had observed Ruler and the doll, which evidently was the familiar of one of the other Masters. The magus had heard of a family of mages that specialized in the use of dolls at some point, but he struggled to remember the name. Regardless, it was intel, and any bit was helpful. 

The Overseer was far from what he expected. He had been led to believe that the position was typically filled by a representative from the Church, though having a Servant fill the position made more sense, he supposed. Ernest had found himself distracted by Ruler's unique aura for a moment, until the arrival of another Servant. The doll called him Rider. Anything else was difficult to ascertain. The bird managed to catch the first half of the conversation, but was unable to make out much once the others entered the church. Again, an unfortunate occurrence, but any knowledge of the competition was helpful. With that, Ernest set the dove off again to circle near the church for observation purposes. Perhaps he would be able to spot another Servant. In the meantime, he needed to share the information he'd gleaned with Nim-

The sound of a car door flying open grabbed Ernest's attention just in time to see Nimrod darting off into the forest. The Servant had shouted something to him as he bolted, but Ernest hadn't been able to make it out.

For a moment, Ernest sat there, dumbfounded. Why had Lancer run off? What was going on? Were they in danger? He had already lost sight of Lancer, and in the dim night light he wasn't even entirely certain which direction he had gone. The confusion was only amplified by the fact that the limousine was still in mot- 

The limousine was still moving.

 [color=00aeef]“STOP. Stop the car!” [/color]Ernest slammed the base of his cane against the floorboard, and the Thrall in the driver's seat brought the vehicle to a screeching halt. The baffled magus leaned out the open door of the car, peering into the dark forest before him. If there was danger, running into the forest was almost certainly suicide. That thought kept him in the limousine. A surge of anxiety filled the stoic mage, and for a moment his frustration bubbled over. [color=00aeef]“Lancer! Lancer what is the meaning of this?!”[/color] A feeling in the pit of Ernest's stomach told him things were taking a turn. A turn he had not expected, and one that was almost certain to be unfortunate.

This was not what Ernest had envisioned even moments ago. No, shouting into the night, baffled and concerned was not what he had wanted at all. He shook, his hands wrenching tightly around his cane. Again he shouted, straining his ears afterward to hear anything. Silence. Only insects and birds.

Wait.

In an instant, Ernest had commanded the second dove, the one that had been following the car, to fly into the inhospitable darkness of the forest. The chance of finding anything was still small. Lancer was far faster than the familiar, and it was difficult to even ascertain which direction Nimrod had went. Still,  the mage spurred the creature onward, beating its tiny wings with savage force against the night air. He was seeing through the dove's eyes now. It was difficult to navigate the forest, but he could still vaguely sense Lancer's energy in the distance, and so he pushed the bird onward. Onward and onward, with enough force to severely endanger the delicate frame of the familiar, undead or not. Ernest felt desperation boiling in his veins. His heart strained in his chest. Despair gouged a pit in the depths of his stomach. The further the bird flew, the closer it got to Lancer, the deeper the black hole grew. Something was very, very wrong.