[h3][centre][b]Rider - Marko[/b][/centre][/h3]

“Hm, aren’t you focussing on the wrong thing there, Servant?” A voice rang out. His presence and approach was obvious enough, and he wasn’t doing anything to make it any less so. 

An oddly dressed man was seated on a large sheep with a white-gold weave of fur. 

He wasn’t riding it like a horse, though. No, his legs were folded across its horns, and his back was slightly reclined, like he was doing nothing more than relaxing in a comfortable chair. He was tossing a stone up and down, catching it in a single hand as another lazily stroked at the sheep’s fur. 

Without a doubt, this was the enemy Servant.

“You should let your Master seek his own glory. He’ll have a hard enough time of it, nyohoho~” 

It seemed almost lazy, the motion with which he let the stone fly - 

And yet, it was a pair of rocks that flew from his hand. One went left, and the other went right, like a pair of trick pitches. They curved and spun, thrown to pass the enemy’s shield in a vicious fork.

The stones spun with a terrifying force, flying faster than the naked eye could track, and displacing the air around them with a powerful wind. 

Even to someone who was used to fighting with weapons alone could tell that this was no mere child's play. The small stones might as well have been great boulders.

He had the advantage of range and distance. But he didn’t seem to be pressing it beyond the initial opening volley…

“Hey, sis! What do you think of this one?”

A tiny fairy poked her head up from the sea of wool. “Oh. You don’t need my advice for this one, do you? He’s flashy, but not much more,” She said, dismissively. 

“Oh, how cruel… The harsh words of a woman can be so much worse than slings and arrows, eh?” The Servant chuckled to himself, his voice rich and melodious.