[center][h1][color=Darkred]James Hartnet[/color][/h1]
[h3]Urquhart Castle[/h3]
Interactions: Archer of Red [@vFear], Morgana Ironholdt [@1Charak2]
Mana Remaining: 168/210
[/center]

As Archer stepped from the circle, weapon forming in his hand, James watched him mutter to himself as if unhappy with the class in which he had been summoned and raised an eyebrow, but didn't press him with a question. It wasn't his business, and as long as it doesn't interfere with his performance he honestly didn't care. Still, he'd rather not have himself or any of the other Masters shot just yet. As the servant stepped close and voiced his concern, James took a long drag of his cigarette before blowing out a long trail of smoke and flicking the loose ash from the end of it.

[color=darkred]"Long Story Short, everyone here wants revenge against the same person, so we stole his catalysts and fucked up his plan to orchestrate a grail war to increase his standing in the Magi Community as a show of 'skill'. Once we've summoned the rest of the servants, we'll fight the war as normal and then share the wish equally by group vote, or something like that... That's the plan anyway, but I've got my own. Once the fighting starts, We're gonna track down the masked bastard we stole all of this from and then use your power as a Servant to slaughter him, his allies and anyone else that gets in our way, and then throw their corpses into fucking Loch Ness... If you're cool with that."[/color]

His voice ran with aggression and anger towards Ayondale, but he didn't raise his voice at all, instead remaining at an aggressive speaking tone. He turned his head towards Archer as he spoke the last few words, not entirely sure he was even going to give the servant a choice in the matter. He was just a weapon after all, not his friend, although he could be considered his pseudo-partner. Lightly he shook his head to clear the train of thought as he turned his head in the opposite direction to watch the remaining servants being summoned. While they certainly weren't what he had expected of Heroic Spirits, between Rider's unexpected accent and Assassin's hyperactive personality, neither were particularly important compared to the seventh and final Summon: Saber.

Taking a final drag before flicking his still smouldering cigarette into the damp grass of the castle courtyard, James beckoned Archer to follow him as he moved closer to the forming crowd, close enough to see but far enough that he wasn't absorbed by the mass of bodies, only for them both witness a result he hadn't expected, but admittedly hadn't discarded as a possibility. He turned to look at Archer with a raised eyebrow, silently asking for the french assassin's opinion as he began to formulate his own answer. The other circles had worked fine, so it probably wasn't that, and Leon himself couldn't have been the problem, considering even the kid with the burning eyes, Olympia or something, was able to summon her Servant and had [i]she[/i] the Od capacity of his left foot. The chant, maybe? No, it was almost identical to the others, with only minor phrasing differences... Had the Saber Class already been summoned? But the other 6 classes were all present and near by, and the only ones that knew about this kind of thing were Albert's contingent and...

[color=darkred]"Shit..."[/color]

[i]Ayondale.[/i] Albert let out a frantic order and then the sky broke into light.

[i][b]Mana: 198/210[/b][/i]

James reacted quickly by throwing up an Armis shield, absorbing a fraction of the onslaught and protecting himself from the grisly fate of those around him, save for a few of the smaller kids that managed to huddle behind him. He held up the shield for around 3 seconds before grabbing a young girl, maybe 15 at most, by the collar and dragging her towards a more sheltered part of the castle. She never made it more than 2 meters. A renewed wave of spells tore the teen Magi apart as James dived to avoid an errant bolt of lightning, kicking up dirt and scorching the ground. Rolling into a low crouch, his eyes settled on the target of his revenge and sword-wielding figure beside him with a seething rage, growling his name lowly to himself. He cast his eyes over to his servant, quickly formulating an order as he watched the other Servants and Masters scramble into action, a voice confirming his worst theory that Ayondale had already summoned the Knight of the Sword.

[color=darkred]"Archer, work with the others and see what you can do about the arsehole with the sword from a distance. I'm going to see if I can gather any survivors and move them over to Sonja's position."[/color]

A head of white hair caught his attention and he broke into a run as he weaved across the chaotic battlefield, narrowly avoiding both corpses and spells alike. As she called out in desperation, He recognised her as Morgana Ironholdt, a classmate of his even though they had spoken very little. He sprinted closer to her and grabbed onto her arm as she stumbled, speaking quickly as to avoid being struck in retaliation and hoping that she would recognise his voice.

[color=darkred]"Morgana, we need to move, Come on!"[/color]

Barely giving her time to respond, he half-guided half-dragged her towards where he had seen the Master of Berserker head towards. His expression was stone cold, but his anger hadn't left him as he ran. Mentally letting loose a string of impressive curses, he glanced back at the man standing atop the hill before his feet began to slow, but not out of his own will. The creeping, blackened sensation of Fear began to crawl over him and he felt his eyes being tugged towards where Saber had stepped onto the battle field. He watched as the bastard Servant severed the head of a girl barely halfway through her teen years and something cried out inside of him. No. NO. He would NOT die like that! He was going to get revenge on Amelia's behalf, he was going to burn everything Ayondale had worked for, he was going to put the man down like a diseased, crippled dog and he was going to survive, damn it! With a defiant roar, James started running again, taking the white-haired girl with him.

They managed to get a fair distance closer to their destination until another nightmare made itself known and the fossilised limbs of Ayondale's undead army broke the ground ahead of them. He jerked them both stop, briefly taking a moment to collect his thoughts before he unslung the Mystic Code from his back. Raising the weapon to his shoulder, he pulled the bolt back before, collecting Mana from the surrounding air, sliding it forward again and loading a 'magic bullet' into the chamber. Lining up the scope with the calcified skull of one of the risen corpses, he gently squeezed the trigger. The compressed Mana shattered the bone like an over-charged Finn shot or a sniper's bullet, and the magical energy animating the corpse burst from what would have been an exit would in a shower of silvery-white mist, a metallic ring accompanying it. Realising the effectiveness of his weapon against the animate corpses, he put his hand on Morgana's shoulder and pointed her towards Sonja had taken refuge.

[color=darkred]"When I say 'Go', keep moving in that direction until you hit the wall, or until Sonja gives you an instruction."[/color]

Lining up another shot, he took out another corpse before pushing her forward.

[color=darkred]"Go!"[/color]

His rifle returned smoothly to his grip as he began to destroy Ayondale's bony minions with steely eyes and a small but brutal smirk. He wasted no time in shooting them down; Aim, Fire, Load, Repeat. He continued on for several seconds, until Morgana was more or less clear, before finally turning his attention to the man himself, standing on the hill with a thrice-be-damned smile planted on his face. With a brief grunt of anger, he contemplated taking a shot at him with his Mystic Code but was interrupted by the bony hand of one of the corpses reach towards him. Ducking out of the way, he kicked the shambling pile of bones in retaliation, the steel-capped boots he wearing adding a little more weight to his foot and sending the skeleton stumbling. It began to drag itself up onto its feet, only to bump head-first into the business end of Mana Zero. It have a savage snarl and snapped its jaws once, but the Mana exploded out of the new hole in its head before its teeth could snap closed a second time. Chambering a fresh 'magic bullet', he let the weapon hang loosely at his side as be began the short chant to activate a spell from his repertoire. [i][color=darkred]'Fly forth and sunder in flames the barriers that impede us. Three times let the fire invite and burn open thy path.'[/color][/i]

Over his shoulder, three flame-like projectiles flickered to life before shooting off at the speed of a baseball pitch, towards Ayondale and the Magi that had accompanied him. The projectiles were about 5 feet long and about 1 foot in diameter, shaped like the type of missile you'd find mounted onto a fighter jet or helicopter gunship, and with enough explosive force to leave craters about 2m, maybe 3m in diameter. With a wave of his friend hand, the three missiles shot of towards the older magus, intent of taking him out as early as possible.

[b][i]Mana: 168/210[/i][/b]