[center][h2]Renaud de Guiscard[/h2][/center]
[hr]

As he walked through the shrine - a 15th century Buddhist temple, with half of it under ongoing renovations - Renaud was unsure whether the normalcy of it all was a good sign or a bad one. The clash would begin on holy grounds, or so he'd devined. But there was no evidence of any kind of battle between servants. 

To tell the truth, he'd half feared to find the shrine a smoking ruin by the time he reached it, but everything seemed calm. Peaceful, even: the monks had all retired to their quarters as dusk fell, and the grounds had an odd serenity to them. He had read accounts of these shrines, and how part of their effect was magical in nature, the result of so many generations of honored dead interred there. Still, to experience it first hand was something else entirely. 

In the end, he found Caster in the guest quarters. She'd wasted no time in establishing it as her workshop, he noticed: already, strange dolls and scraps of scrolls lined the room, though he could not say what any of it was meant to serve. Caster herself seemed focused elsewhere, either not noticing him enter or not bothering to acknowledge it. 

"I had Louise Drive me here as soon as I could. The battle will begin here, it might have already started-" He stopped in his tracks, struck by how foolish he must seem. Everything seemed fine here. But the divinations had been clear: The battle would start that night, on holy ground. But asking her if she'd already fought a servant, this feudal japanese sorceress with not a scratch on her, suddenly seemed foolish in the extreme. "Caster, what are you doing?" He asked instead, salvaging what he could of his dignity.