Berserker appeared at his ‘Masters’ side the instant the command was spoken, the Servant having been waiting in the wings in spirit form for this exact moment; it was unclear just how much of the plan he had understood, when Katherine had told her Servant to stand guard over the bewitched Magus, to be the trap that would snap closed over any unwitting mouse that took their bait, but he seemed to be playing his part for now.

The Viking held himself much as he had upon being summoned, standing calm and alert as he gripped his clubs and his eyes swept over the hotel lobby and the plaza outside; he seemed uncaring, or perhaps unaware, of the carnage taking place only a short distance away from him, separated only by a set of glass fronted doors and a crudely made bounded field. As before the only clue as to his class was the constant tension he held in his muscled frame, the bone crunching grip with which he held his weapon and the intense fury that filled his eyes; an otherwise placid demeanour hiding the barely restrained savagery beneath.

It was only when Berserker’s sweeping gaze landed on the Servant making her way towards the doors of the hotel, pushing a near-dead human shield ahead of her as she closed in on the fake master’s location, that it became clear why this particular hero was summoned as a Berserker.

A transformation overtook Berserker’s face, eyes bulging in their sockets as corded muscles stretched taut in his neck and the Servant let loose a roaring, inarticulate scream of rage. Berserker launched forward, the floor of the hotel lobby shattering beneath his feet as he leapt in a low, long arc towards the lobby’s doors. A second leap as his feet touched the ground carried him through the doors, glass panes shattering and metal frames warping as the Servant burst out into the plaza. The gunmen at the front of the hotel who found themselves in the unfortunate position of being between Berserker and his target were swept aside by a single swing of the large oaken clubs, their bloodied and battered, pulverised bodies thrown to the wayside by the attack.

With everyone nearby either crushed or fleeing from the angry, yelling Viking, there was now a clear path between the two Servants. Berserker wasted no time in engaging, rushing towards Assassin with both clubs raised above his head before bringing them down with as much force as he could muster, aiming to crush both the Servant and her shield in one shot.

[@Epsir][@LukasVolkov]