[h2][center]Kazamyr Silvestrov[/center][/h2]
The sun broke through a thin layer of clouds, staining them a deep purple as its orange radiance swept past their wispy vapors and blazed high over the horizon. As the last shreds of darkness faded away with a gentle sigh, bright dawn met with earth the color of rust, each accentuating the other's natural hues and making clear from whence this town had earned its name: from stone and dirt alike turned bloody red by the touch of the morbid heavens. Viewed from afar, the landscape looked almost as if some great massacre had taken place the night before.

An omen which, as of yet, remained frustratingly unfulfilled.

Fiery light trickling through the open window of a dingy apartment, rented out a week prior, and illuminated the shape of a lanky man sat deep in thought. Kazamyr hadn't slept much. He'd rested, letting his body recover a little from the strain of using so many familiars alongside a Servant, but all the while his mind had been turning, and before the day even broke he'd risen and showered, dressing once more in pure black as he considered what needed to be done.

Clearly his enemies were playing things safe, for the most part. He supposed that he'd have noticed any Servant battles occurring, but none had, other than the one he'd instigated himself and then cut short before it stretched beyond a swift exchange of blows. His brow furrowed. [i]Is this to be a war of attrition, then?[/i] It made sense, given the seven sides, that the obvious tactic would be to wait things out and let the other factions deal with each other. [i]Hence the notable absence of Saber, Berserker, and Archer...[/i] A slow grind, however, wasn't Kazamyr's style. He'd spent his time waiting and setting up already, and he wasn't the kind of man to count on victory falling into his lap while he languished in inaction.

The 'alliance' was his biggest advantage. Hard to say how much that girl trusted him at this stage, but if he could secure her cooperation for at least another night or two, they could overwhelm their opponents one at a time with the combined strength of their Servants. As such, he'd been researching his targets, readying himself to confront them in the very near future.

Handwritten notes lay scattered about the room, alongside the wards and glyphs that protected the apartment from assault and observation. Notes on the Valkyries, a list of possible identities for Lancer. [i]Brynhildr, Eir, Geirdriful...[/i] On another sheet, sparse bullet points detailing famous witches within the last millennium. On yet another, some interesting tidbits he'd found on Japanese warrior women, legends that might explain Assassin's blinding speed. [i]Uesugi Kenshin, Nakano Takeko, Tomoe Gozen...[/i] All possible, but none of them quite seemed to fit. He'd need to dig deeper, there.

He'd also considered the known abilities of the other Servants, and how one might deal with them. Assassin wasn't much stronger than Rider, but was slippery and quick. If it came to a fight he'd need to find a way to pin her down, and if they fought together he'd want to take care to keep opponents from doing the same. Lancer was a bigger problem: likely stronger than Rider due to her class, armed with powerful magecraft from the Age of Gods, and on top of that she could almost certainly fly. [i]Which is bad news, when our trump card is an elephant charge.[/i]

Most of all, though, he was worried about Saber. Supposedly the strongest class of all, but a complete unknown thus far. [i]What am I up against? Where are they hiding?[/i] The thought made him shudder with dread and anticipation both. [i]I wonder...[/i]

"Rider," he pondered aloud, "you've been able to meet some of our opponents now, and even crossed blades with one of them. So tell me— if it had turned into a serious fight last night, could you have defeated Assassin? Or defeated Lancer? What would be your chances, if you had to guess?"

[@King Cosmos]