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_________________________________[i][b]Saber Class[/b][/i]_________________________________
With his Master, by Tohsaka Manor[/center]

Of all things, Roland was in awe of the world since his departure from him. Of the moment of his death he could remember in some details, but it barely mattered as he gazed out onto the world that had left him behind. The cloak he wore firmly around his body whipped in the wind, and he could smell food from all over the city curling up on steam. All this from the roof of the temple where he sat, legs crossed and seemingly enjoying life. It was his Master's leaving the temple that finally roused him from his moment of reflection. Rare for Roland, who so desperately loved battle. But this? This was fine. 

He leapt to the ground, and with a thump he was by his master's side. "Well, the first two I can agree with." Roland laughed, accepting food from the strange man who wore a horsemask. It hadn't been long since he was summoned for the war, and it had taken the first few hours of their initial meeting for him to accept such a strange master. But then again, his lord Charlemagne wasn't without his own eccentricities. And the paladins? Why they were all an odd bunch! 
"But that third thing... I have lived in the west. Where I would gaze east to the holy land I sought to claim in the name of god. West of course, was always home. So if I took you literally, I'd have never have left my mother's side." The holy paladin let out a hearty laugh, as if amused by the idea of what life could have been like had he not made an attempt to fill his mother's pale face with wine. 

He took a bite of the snack, chewing and reveling for a moment in the taste. Food had become so sweet and exotic! His tongue rolled over the flavor, and by the time he swallowed he was already taking another bite. In a way, the two strange men couldn't have stood out more in the alleys and streets of the city. A blonde man with a cape and armor, walking alongside a man who wore a horsemask? How strange and ridiculous it must be. Thankfully, Roland had become accustom to strangeness. And while fairly strange, the man in the horsemask was still a man. A cheerful man who lived, drank, and enjoyed the company of others. There was nothing strange about that. Why, without the mask he'd probably be the most reasonable and acceptable man Roland ever had the company of. (Though considering Astolfo had been nearly mad, that wasn't a high bar to reach.) 

"You know, Sir Tlilpojuan." Roland refused to call the man master. Since while he had to serve the man, he only ever had one true master. Charlemagne, His uncle who he remembered so fondly at times. "I adore how the world has changed. And this food, what is it even called?" At least the rice wine reminded him of France. At least the wine was still of quality, no matter where he went in the world. "The temple was nice, but far from the cathedrals of my home where we worship God almighty. But then again, some things can be said for moderation. Moderation is wasted on the young." With a hearty laugh, he slapped Tlilpojuan on the back. As if the two of them were old friends. 

Following suit, he followed the horseman to the western temple. It stood out from all the other architecture, which said something about poor taste. "If this man is our friend, then we shall toast. If he is our enemy, than we shall toast even then as we drive swords through his heart. There is something to be said of being there for those you care about in death."