Frederica von Gotzen

"Huh..." Frederica stared over, before shrugging. "Guess that's good luck for us?"

It was a strange thing to say, hearing that a Master had conceptually recreated one of the single most defensible locations in History as their base. Yet, Frederica didn't seem concerned. Her gaze went unfocused, as her mind piggybacked off Archer's far greater sight to take a closer look at the conflict.

"We're getting a solid enough look at what they're capable of right now." She commented, even as Rangefinder Luna continued to gather the information. "Knowing the Master practices some form of magecraft tied to Apollo tells us what to expect and prepare for. The servant is dangerous for sure, but frankly, I've not seen anything you can't handle. Is a Rider going to beat an Archer in ranged combat?"

"Arguably more importantly, however, if those walls are meant to emulate Troy... Then we know their weakness." A slight grin grew on her face. "Troy was sacked not once, but twice. Those walls may be impossible to breach through raw strength, but that just means we'll have to turn our minds to indirect methods. I'm already getting a few ideas to deal with it."

"And besides..." She looked at Archer without really looking at him. "Making your base Troy when one of the heroes that sacked Troy is present is some pretty bad luck."

@Crusader Lord @Letter Bee @ManyThings

The First Day. 15th of November, 2016. 11:50AM.

---

The young Servant Caster had made a gesture of goodwill by furnishing the dilapidated bunker with decor that prioritized both mental and physical comfort. The base, which had been unattended to by the Swizz military for decades, was suddenly fit to entertain guests of any social class. Despite that, the Master whom Caster had assembled the splendid interior for had hardly spent any time there thus far.

Instead, Tómas had gone deeper, passing beyond the disused rooms into the negative spaces and half-rooms that had never seen use at all, delving further until he found a lightless, dust-choked space that touched on the bunker's very foundations. Leaving Caster to assemble weaponry up above, the old magus had made this place the heart of his new workshop, spreading the scalding blood of the Earth there and aligning it with himself. It was a process he went about without haste, for it also served to draw his full focus and calm his mind.

It was only now, as Caster pondered his own next move, that the elderly Master finally emerged from a side-passage, returning up to the living-space that his Servant had prepared. Sprinkled thoroughly with sweat and soot, it was clear that he, too, had been hard at work.

"I appreciate the arrangements you've made here, Caster." The old man made an effort to smile. Even if he was used to residing in a different space, he still felt it was right to respond to the young king's kindness. And besides, his stamina wasn't was it had once been...

The magus settled down into a chair. Although the higher levels of the bunker had not been closely aligned with his own magecraft, he could nonetheless take comfort here thanks to Caster's efforts, as well as his own work to conceal this base from the outside.

"I've gotten word from my Elves." Tómas was clearly a bit tired, but went on, "A battle has broken out, in broad daylight."

He raised a hand, as if to hold back any outburst that might lead to his Servant rushing out to battle.

"It's better not to take action directly, here. Those who oversee the War should be moving to keep this matter under control. If we took part in battle now, we would only add to the chaos. It will be better to observe. However..."

Tómas' expression was slightly pained. He was plagued with uncertainty, or so it seemed.

"...If the townspeople find themselves in the line of fire, I won't hold you back, Caster."

---

@Letter Bee

Lancer went on his own. He knew what he was doing and didn't need any supervision from Jerome, quite the contrary. A man with this much knowledge of fighting and war would only be bothered by having to babysit a lowly thief in a fight. Well, at least that's what Jerome thought, and he had his own kind of work to perform anyway.

He took a good detour from the supernatural clash, keeping enough distance to not be noticed, and searched for a safe spot to take a look at the defenses while keeping the basilica to his back, so that it would only be a straight shot to run away if needs be. That was riskier than what he initially planned, but the opportunity was pretty good. There, he started searching for what most wouldn't be able to see.
It was invisible of course, but a skilled mage could sense the presence of bounded fields. And while he wasn't a skilled mage by usual standards, he had near twenty years of experience at this. it was no trouble identifyig the bounded field and making an estimate of its power and traits.

Recent work, obviously. But pretty high quality. That mage was undeniably good. Even so, it was too short a time to set up something of this quality. So something had to be prepared in advance.
As he sent his sense of touch towards the wall, while making sure to not let his od interfere with the bonded field, he felt it. A keystone. No, multiple of them, but part of a set. Embedded into the wall, changing its nature. A conceptual trait was added.

Until he could grasp the nature of this mystic code, he wouldn't be able to pass by safely.
A fortress? This already was a fortress, but it was now of a different kind. Much stronger, an old and powerful mystery. Probably western, as it felt somewhat familiar.

Well, the concept of a fortress wouldn't the biggest obstacle to Jerome. He wasn't going to attack it after all. Still, he needed more time, and this spot wasn't going to stay safe with the fights between Servants and Masters happening not so far away. If only he could grab one of those keystone, but it was making the wall as part of itself. Or was it making itself as part of the wall? In any case, it was full of that mage's od, which was interfering with Undisturbing Retrieval. It'd be easier to take apart a chunk of the wall by brute force.

{Hey Lancer. If they blow up the wall or something, I could use a chunk of that. Don't take unnecessary risks, though. I'm not sure how useful it'd even be, anyway.}

Of course, this is only the first step of his modus operandi. He needs a more in depth analyzis to find a path to traverse and enter the bounded field without being noticed. And that wouldn't even be useful immediately, as the timing was poor to enter the castle.

This was all just preparation for a later date, when he would actually try to enter and see what opportunities lied in ennemy territory. For now, it was time to retreat to the basilica and wait for the conclusion of current events.

So, while staying on his guard and keeping a low profile, Jerome took the path to the neutral ground of the war.

---

"Ah, perhaps I can give Jules some of my backup clothing to wear into town, then, during the day tomorrow. I've had no trouble navigating Switzerland and its lovely lands so far, but it would pay to be prepared and have a second set of hands for grocery shopping, perhaps, if he's good with that an' bein' a potential translator too. Would be more discreet as well.

"He would like this task. We do have some civilian clothing of our own however. It's a bit dated, but a shirt is a shirt. And don't hesitate to ask for more on this front, we can cover the area better than any other servant."

"But I'd like to speak to ya' as we travel, if you'd be so inclined. A few thoughts on a couple o' matters or so to share in the meantime, though out of a desire for some secrecy and safety on our part I do have a few things to ask for. Might sound a bit harsh, but ah' want to ask that anyone else followin' us into town to get in spirit form and keep in it unless our hand is forced if possible. No pot shots at stuff, eyes and ears bein' open for trouble, the works.

The redhead officer simply nodded. They were never alone, as they could always deploy more of theirs from any present soldier. But to ease out the Master's worries, two more soldiers appeared in spirit form and positionned themselves on the motorcycle.

As for where we're going....well, we're first headed to the Basilica in town. The neutral ground of this war, the Church. Going ta' pay the priest there my respects and stuff for a short bit. Also see there if some of the bodyguard comin' along can get a view of things and observe from that hill a bit, mindin' that its neutral ground and all of course still."

Ah yes, the Basilica. It was something difficult to understand for the soldiers. Even the few of them who had some knowledge of the occult world before meeting their end weren't familiar with the opposition between the Church and the Clock Tower. To them, witches hunt were just a barbaric tradition which had already been left behind in their own times. But as Servants, they realised that there were hidden truths which put a lot of things into question.

And most of all, the involvement of the church felt wrong to them. It may have been a neutral party, but they were still participating in the ritual as overseer. The church secretly fighting heresy made some sort of sense, but not this.

"As you wish. We might also have some question for the church overseer, if you do not mind. Some of us are... curious about the position of the Church on this ritual."

On those words, he materialized a large trench-coat over his uniform and sat on the drivers seat.



The ride through town was rather uneventful, even as a battle took place in the distance.
In the middle of the day.
The man frowned his mustache. He wasn't sure if there was such a thing as good or bad form for such a ritual, but he definitely thought that this was a poor showing of behavior. That castle may have been somewhat isolated on its hill, but there was still the town nearby.

But this was another matter, as they had arrived to the Basilica. An impressive construction, more castle than church. Large and solid, it wasn't hard to believe that someone could be hidden safely here. Or rather, it wouldn't be if the ennemy hadn't been Servants.

The two soldiers in spirit form got up from the motorcycle and split to scout the surroundings along with a few more of them, deployed for the task. The redhaired officer stayed by Rhodri' side for his protection. He had noticed how their Master wasn't comfortable with the more rowdy of his comrades and wanted to accommodate him. He handed a pair of binoculars to Rhodri.

"The situation on the other hill seems worth observing. But we can take care of it if you'd rather go to the church right away."

The soldiers had not noticed yet, however, the other Master just a hundred meters away, advancing through the thicket on the side of the road.

---

@Double D @Crusader Lord @ManyThings

“Oho?” Rider sat up, his lazy attitude fading as he looked forward at the Servant approaching with arms held wide. “I’ll grant you child, but are Masons known for tossing around their stonework where you come from?” He asked. “No, no, I’m nothing but a humble farmer." He chuckled to himself as he said it.

For a moment, it looked as though he would respond to the provocations, to leap down from the sheep and jump into melee-

“Are you really that dense? He’s obviously baiting you.” The fairy huffed, folding her arms dramatically.

“Thought you said you weren’t gonna help out with this one, sis,” Rider grinned, leaning back again. Somehow, another rock had found its way to his hand, and he tossed it again, catching it first underhand, then overhand.

“I said you shouldn’t need my advice, but if you’re so intent on proving me wrong, it can hardly be helped.”

Rider sighed and shrugged. “It’s quite the pickle, don’t you think, Mr. Bronze? Of course, I have my pride as a man, but my dear sister here will keep pouting if I put it on the line for those kinds of provocations. And that Master of mine, hard to tell what that one’s thinking…”

His enemy was laying it all out there. Rider could identify a gladiator when one was staring right at one. Even if that was mostly down to the Grail’s information. A performer, someone who fought for the adoration of a crowd, to live or to die.

That wasn’t so different from him.

“But in the end, I think they’d both just rather see me win,” He smirked, tossing the rock, this time on a much more direct and powerful course. But not towards the enemy, towards his feet. If the enemy could track his rocks’ movements, then it just meant he had to obscure them.

The rock hit the ground in front of the enemy with the force of an enormous boulder, cracking the ground and scattering a great cloud of debris in front of them. And through that cloud, another pair of spinning stones came with equally destructive force. One directed at the legs, to cripple, and one at the head, to kill.

For a moment, he could only blink, stunned again, but for an entirely different reason. Her hand wrapped around his, small and warm and unexpectedly firm, and her smile lit up the grove like sunrise through the mist. She called him ‘Thally.’ He didn’t even mind. In fact, the way she beamed up at him with total sincerity, excitement bubbling over in every syllable, it made something old and quietly scarred in his chest stir with strange relief.

"You're a good person, Thally! I've decided! Yes, I will be your partner!"

The words echoed, and somehow, hearing them out loud made the whole world seem a little more real. He laughed, low and breathy, surprised. It escaped before he could think to muffle it.

“Then it’s a promise,” he said, offering her a small, lopsided grin. “Partners it is.”

A gust stirred the trees overhead. The scent of pine shifted. His smile faded just slightly, brow furrowing as he glanced southeast, not with fear, but focus. Something stirred beneath his palm, still resting against the soil. Threads of the sanctuary web hummed against the pressure of external mana, not intrusive, but undeniable. A storm of spiritual energy, distant but mighty. He exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing.

“There’s movement,” he murmured, “magic swelling far off, definitely not subtle. Feels like a clash. A Servant, probably, likely two.” He met her gaze again, more alert now. “Tourbillon, most likely. Someone’s making themselves known.” He paused in thought, but not for long.

“We don’t have to jump in, I’m not looking to start a war with strangers before we’ve eaten.” He smiled again, softer, one brow raised. “But if you’d rather not stay cooped up, we could move out. See the battlefield from a distance, get a sense of who’s throwing their weight around?”

He stood, brushing pine needles from his knees, then offered a hand toward her, palm up. “Or we could scout somewhere else. The Basilica’s not far, and I’d wager someone’s tried to stake a claim there. Whatever you want, Rider.”

There was no pressure in his tone, only trust. The kind of trust that had already chosen her, long before she raised her fist to the sky.
@Cocojoe

---

Aureus did not answer Rider’s taunts with words. He answered with silence, and in that silence, contempt. Not for the rocks or the crowd-pleasing swagger, but for the man who wielded them with the safety of a sister’s voice always in his ear. A warrior who could not step forward without a handler was no warrior at all.

And then the stone was loosed. He saw it, not with alarm, but with precision. The angle. The weight. Not aimed to kill, but to blind. Dust, of course. That was the moment. The moment everything clicked. The false throw. The timing. The echo of it all, etched across centuries of gladiator’s instinct. He had seen it before, he had done it before, lived it a thousand times in a thousand skins: sand flung before a blade, shame dressed in showmanship. And the Colosseum had always hated it.

As the stone struck the earth and the dust surged up in a choking veil, Aureus moved. Not out of panic, but with purpose, a dive to the side, clean and practiced, performed both to evade and to vanish. Better to disappear into the screen than wait for the killing blow behind it.

Mid-flight, he summoned the trident. Gold bled into the air beside him, the weapon forming just before his hand met it. He landed in a roll, momentum fluid from dive to crouch, cloak sweeping the cracked earth, dust swirling his form. His feet found stone, and the throw came fast behind it, a snap of the hips, a twist of the shoulders, and then the trident flew, tearing through the dust in a direct and uncompromising line.

A challenge, hurled not merely at the man, but at the curtain he stood behind, at the sister who spoke for him, at the spectacle he refused to join. But the throw was the prelude, The charge came next.

Furor Theatricus ignited within him, his breath steady, heart unflinching, as the Colosseum demanded more from its champion. Rider had sought to delay. To deceive. To disrupt the rhythm of the duel. And so the Arena answered. Aureus sprinted forward, the dust no longer Rider’s ally, but his own. His silhouette obscured through the haze, heavy footsteps dulled by debris, cloak billowing like the banner of a storm.

The hasta came to his grip, long, solid, built for reach. The parma followed, curved, compact, ideal for the charge. A shield not to hide behind, but to part the mist. A spear not to keep distance, but to close it in one decisive thrust. Aureus was no longer reacting, he was reclaiming the stage, and now the true battle could begin.
@SSW

It seemed the rocks missed their target again. Marko clicked his tongue in annoyance.

He had almost lost track of the enemy in the debris, but then a trident came flying from the cloud. Compared to his own throws, it was like it was moving in slow motion. Marko let it pass by his head, the wind tussling his hair and nearly taking his hat off.

“Finally going on the offensive, huh?” He called out. “Alright, let’s see what you’re made of.”

Nearby, the fairy lounged in a sea of wool, sinking beneath it again, her toes and knees rising as her head descended.

The dust seemed to swirl around the enemy, as if the battlefield itself was attempting to obscure him. Unfortunately for the enemy, he had already announced his presence, and his killing intent was clear.

He met the enemy’s charge, his war-spear manifesting in a single hand. He nudged the sheep forwards, his skill at manipulating a mount bringing out its strength to throw the enemy off balance.

The spears clashed, his shaft simply knocking the gladiator’s own off course, its own point glancing away from the enemy in the clash.

And in the other hand, another rock was ready, to smash through the enemy’s guard, curving around this new shield, to blast into the enemy at point-blank range.

@Ducksworth

"The situation on the other hill seems worth observing. But we can take care of it if you'd rather go to the church right away."

Taking the offered bionoculars without hesitation, the mage used them to try to get a glimpse in the distance at what was going on. Ah. It wasn't as clear as the sight of a proper familiar, but it was certainly close enough in a comparatively modern sense. This was one thing so many magi missed, because as much as human civilization itself changed....many things remained the same as they ever had, and that could be used for magecraft. But, given it was just a pair of bionoculars he was using, that point was moot compared to the more general idea of what he was thinking of in his mind. Boulders being thrown, attacks being launched, spears clashing, challenges being met....ah, such was the nature of this battlefield thus far it seemed. A good thing to take note of, especially for details of what the castle-camping mage was able to do. But still...was that a golden sheep that one servant was riding on?! What was this, Jason and the Argonauts-....hmm. He'd have tgo come back to that one, actually.

The edges of his mouth tugged up ever so slightly, all before he lowered the binoculars and handed them politely back to Archer's most representative body once more.

"Seems we've a rather likely Rider, in my eyes, and unless the one taking on the undesireable task of charging a fortified position is a pretty good Saber we might have a madman of a servant there in turn. A potential Berserker? Ah, the start of this is going about as chaotic as I'd heard these Grail War events can be. But at least the basic information is good enough for now, eh?"

His tone switched to something more formal, given he was about to head inside, though he couldn't help but toss a little something in at the very end regardless. He was still himself, after all, and no one else. It was still a concern, though, if they had a Rider tossing rocks and a Berserker bold enough to challenge that alongside a master who seemed something other than human by the looks of things. It was peculiar, just as much as that golden sheep and sunlit arrows raining down without anyone having to aim them. He'd do a little digging, but that sort of thing felt mythological to him at the very least. Could be hints at a potential enemy master's abilities as well, if they could fortify in such a position and attack from afar.

...Made that castle a much more convincing target, that much was for sure, though they'd have to see how things panned out perhaps before making a proper plan out of it all. Hmm?

"I'll prefer to head inside to introduce myself in the end, but you can come along if you wish to bring some of these questions you and your peers might have for the Holy Church. I can't imagine your positions in life left you....much an idea of certain things as they work on this side of the shadows, yes? Not that either side has it pleasant from my understanding, but I'll not wish to deny you all a chance to ask questions. You deserve that much at least on this occasion, despite being forced back into a warzone of sorts once more."

He spoke as he got carefully out of the sidecar of the old-fashioned motorcycle, even as his mind was making itself up on another side matter. Indeed, Jules would be given some of his own personal change of clothes, however, to try to blend him in better either way the next day though. That much wasn't up for negotiation. Dated clothing was still clothing, but they had to treat it like modern camoflauge used by modern soldiers in a sense. That much they perhaps could grasp given the Grail's provision of knoweldge to servants to accomodate them to the times, after all, and hopefully they could all be on the same page of that. It wasn't malice in contradicing them there, but they were in a warzone whether anyone wanted it to be or not and needed to treat it like one at all times as best as they could. Rules or no rules, people could break them and problems could very well arise in some subspecies ritual like this one.

It was not an ideal scenario in any fashion, then, whether it was for shopping during the broad daylight or fighting during the night like thhis. The Nadelkiss made made it that way, one way or another, and now the consequences would bear their fruit as the mages sat to the side trying to harvest everyone else's hard work. Such a tease and tricky sort, weren't they~

"But I'd request to please keep the scouting tight about the Basilica, using binoculars and such to observe from afar without pointing a weapon at the situation just to see through a scope. I know you all know what neutrality and such is, but we are not to engage anyone else here or engage anyone elsewhere from this position. Simply....observe things only, stay out of sight, and do so from afar as best as you can from safe ground here. Take notes, even, or get someone back at base to jot stuff down too as the others observe, perhaps. Information is gold in these scenarios and modern ones alike, but we're treading a very thin line here as it is.

Tact, from what I've gathered, is also not a guarantee in these little conflicts by far. But we do not need to be the ones to cross a line first, as it were, with regard to the rules. War, from what I've gathered as well, isn't so kind in any mundane or magical sense alike either from what both of us might already grasp at this venture."

He was keeping his tone of voice just barely loud enough to communicate clearly with The Representative next to him, had been since they arrived even, before seeking to make eye contact and gesturing to the front doors of the Basilica with a mild but distinct tilt of his head in that direction. After thus, then, Rhodri would make his way toward the front doors of the Basilica to open them knock, politely open them when proper if he got a response or not, and head inside for a friendly chat! That wouldn't be harmful, would it? He hoped not, because it was just the first night after all~

@eugalB@ManyThings

---

He could feel her grin without even having to look at her, the edges of his own mouth perking up again slightly too, though he was admittedly keeping his eyes on the battle properly so they could keep observing things as they developed from their comfortable little position. Spears were clashing, now, and more serious attacks were being launched by both parties. Ah, a proper fight without any of the fanfare and sneaky crap! All the same, however, the question of if a Rider could beat an Archer at a ranged combat scenario was something that could be dependent on how it went down. For example, if anyone closed the distance fast enough or such like. He...was a little more aware of that after certain matters had resolved themselves in his life, perhaps, or simply later and now due to hindsight as a servant at worst he figured.

Besides, he felt his master was 'right on the money', as the modern saying went, about the situation of Apollo and another Troy. In fact, the very same man who had beaten and sacked it the first time had used and later given him this bow and arrows of all things. Not to mention that meek little Trojan princeling's brother's prophecy tying the same bow would be needed to bring down Troy might still hold sway. E-t-c. Diomedes would've gone on about the 'will of the gods being undefiable' if he'd said it around him, heh, but that was just a side thought really. Guy was a great hero but could be a bit preachy when it came to the gods' will, even if he was one of Athena's favorites. Though based on how he'd apparently escape the mess to come after the war, well, he wasn't trying to disrespect his fellow warrior and a stalwart king either.

However, his master was right in that it would indeed also take some sneaky work to get inside of Troy this time. This especially after how well-known the story seemed to be among humans in the West, if nothing else, but such a sneaky plan to get inside and burn it down to ruins had worked before. It had worked because of that clever, sneaky assho-...ahem, because of the other one of Athena's favorites who had managed that much in the past, yeah. At this point he had some respect for the matter, though, even if part of him felt a desire for the rush of combat once more.

"And besides..." She looked at Archer without really looking at him. "Making your base Troy when one of the heroes that sacked Troy is present is some pretty bad luck."

Was she trying to butter him up like that? Heh. Either way he'd smile a bit more too but would try to internally shrug it off a bit regardless. Wasn't the time to get his head fulla' hot air, else it'd be ten stupid years before they got anything done. Not that he blamed wanting to get out there like he and Achilles' kid had wanted to after getting there. What, did glory and victory come by waiting around all the time? No! But their victory had only come after not taking that route, and he remembered that much rather well indeed.

"Could call it that...one could call it 'fate', even."

@Double D

"Seems we've a rather likely Rider, in my eyes, and unless the one taking on the undesireable task of charging a fortified position is a pretty good Saber we might have a madman of a servant there in turn. A potential Berserker? Ah, the start of this is going about as chaotic as I'd heard these Grail War events can be. But at least the basic information is good enough for now, eh?"

"Yes, it's... toublesome, actually. We're probably better suited to assault a fortress than most Servants, but that man is a problem. Riders and Archers are the most likely to give us trouble since we rely on controlling distance, and he seems adept at both riding and fighting with projectiles. He is like a horseback archer. This is also a very good fit for this defensive position. He can make a charge out of the castle and retreat back inside when needed or attack from the safety of the walls whenever it is preferable. They know what they're doing.
On the other hand, that gladiator doesn't seem like a problem to us so far, since he seems to prefer melee combat.

The redhead man walked out of the bike, looking pensively at the Tourbillon Castle.

"Honestly, I would be tempted to assist the assailant. It would be to our benefit if someone else took care of the defender. But we don't know them yet, and if our intervention led them to team-up against us, it would be disastrous. If he is indeed a berserker, then he is unlikely be a reliable ally."

"But I'd request to please keep the scouting tight about the Basilica, using binoculars and such to observe from afar without pointing a weapon at the situation just to see through a scope. I know you all know what neutrality and such is, but we are not to engage anyone else here or engage anyone elsewhere from this position. Simply....observe things only, stay out of sight, and do so from afar as best as you can from safe ground here. Take notes, even, or get someone back at base to jot stuff down too as the others observe, perhaps. Information is gold in these scenarios and modern ones alike, but we're treading a very thin line here as it is."

It was a redundant order, but that wasn't a bad thing. Good leadership was dependant on clarity, especially with large numbers. So, The man simply nodded.
As he accompanied Rhodri towards the door, another soldier appeared to take the observation spot and the motorcycle demanifested. This made a total of seven soldiers scouting the Basilca' surrondings and keeping an eye on Tourbillon without counting himself. Along with the fourteen working back at base, they had twenty-two soldiers deployed in total.
They suspected their Master could manage at least three times this amount, if not four. However, to stay close to the limit for extended amounts of time would only strain him.

And they thought Rhodri was right to maintain distance for now. It was too early to take risks. The one good side of this situation is that as long as the enemy stayed within this comfortable defensive position, it would give them time to prepare a good plan of attack. Maybe it wouldn't even be necessary, what with the other participants having their own schemes.

---

"Tact...ered...conflicts...cross a line...War...magical...ture."

Too damn far.
Jerome was lucky enough to have noticed them before they did, so he made sure to mask his magical energy and approached discreetly. But he still couldn't hear them.

However, they were probably another pair headed for the church, though they seemed less interested by the fight and more by the church itself. Right, the priest was the overseer of the war, so it made sense to present oneself to him.

One the other hand, 'pair' might not be the right word. Jerome noticed more presences than that, but apart from the mage, their mana seemed awfully similar. And when he noticed one appearing out of thin air, he was convinced those were a single servant. They were unimpressive compared to Lancer or the other two monster at the castle's gates and he did hear that some servant could manifest with more than one body. Though, it seemed Servants were so unique that no one case was like the other, so it did not help him much.

{Lancer, I'm at the church. There's another Master and Servant here, but they haven't noticed me. The Servant seem to be able to ... divide himself or something? I don't know, but he has multiple bodies and just made another appear. And I don't think he was in spirit form or anything. I'll stay hidden for now, But I'll use a command spell to bring you here if it gets dicey.

Oh and obviously, I'm not leaving the church until you come back. If they aren't rulebreakers, I should be safe here, but I'm not risking getting out of the neutral area on my own.}

Through Ground Touch, he could feel the mouvements of the unknown Servant. Confident steps and coordinated marchs. They hardly kept any blind spot as they covered their ... comrades? Duplicates?
In any case, it felt military. Jerome had to deal with those types a few times, and the effect of military training in one's walk or group organisation are very recognisable.
While he could see their movements patterns well enough, trying to sneak by Servant soldiers felt a bit risky. And he certainly wasn't counting on their honor or whatever. Invoking the neutral zone was plan C at best.

Plan A would be going undergound. The ground of the Basilica was reinforced by constructions everywhere, most likely a necessity of building such a large structure on such a small hill. In fact, he already had his back against a wall which was just the side of the ground that Servant was standing on. Such an architecture probably had some cellar or other underground room.

Once he found one close enough to him, he put his mind at ease and focused. The distance to cross meant he needed more preparation to successfully use Traceless Traversal, and he certainly didn't want to emit any excess mana in this situation.
Calm and collected.
Discreet and undisturbing.
No excesses, no traces.
...

And just like that, he had disappeared from the cliffside.

---

@Double D @Crusader Lord @ManyThings

Quite suddenly, the servant throws her arms high into the air in jubilation. It was much in contrast to the young man before her, who seemed to be deliberate, considerate, thoughtful. This was an exclamation of pure joyous celebration. Perhaps his less authoritative nature had struck something of a cord with Rider.

“Yaay! Partners!~”

The gust didn't seem to bother the girl all too much, but the sight of her master being somewhat perturbed earned the return of that curious gaze, her eyes following wherever he was looking towards. Then, she felt it too. Magical energies pulsing and beating like a struggling heart. Not entirely expected, considering the time of day. Her master suggested that it might be a clash of sorts, but this early? Both in the day and in the grail war? Seemed unwaise. Usually the early phases should be dedicated to reconnaissance, right? Anything more and one risks overextension and elimination.

“Are... Are they stupid? I mean-- bad guys are always stupid! But... In daylight! That's illegal!”

Once again to the young girl's surprise, the man brought up a rather cooperative and agreeable stance in regards to this. He offered her options, a say in the process. Is this what 'democracy' felt like...? It was sort of like... No... She mustn't think back on that now. The present is what matters most. The past must be considered, but cast aside if it faces no relevancy. She seems genuinely happy that she has been afforded this luxury.

“You know, unlike them-- er, if they're fighting, at least... But! Unlike them, you're pretty smart, Thally! You haven't given me a single order yet... But I think that's good! Good teams fight together, not with one another!”

Rider places a finger to her chin thoughtfully, eyes narrowing.

“Hmmm. While striking down one of the bad guys might be good this early on, we don't want to make our big entrance yet...”

She strokes her chin, eyes glancing to the side for a moment as she begins to pace back and forth.

“But we can find out what the bad guys are up to if we keep our distance... More information is good information...”

Step after little step crunches grass, leaves little imprints behind on the dirt.

“I don't think calling on him would reveal who I am... So!”

Clap!

Pivoting on the spot to face her Master, Rider quickly clasps her hands together in front of her in a swift motion.

“The source of my class designation, my... 'Mount' can fly at speed. We'll be able to find spots to survey those bad guys, easy peasy! To Tourbillon we go!”

With her hands close together, a blue flash heralded the re-applying of those cuffs.

She leaps into the air.

“Come, Levente!”

A similar burst of blue light heralded the arrival of a horse-- Rider's mount. By all accounts, it looked almost completely normal, in spite of what the girl claimed. However, as part of a Servant's manifestation, it absolutely was not, in fact, a normal creature.

Landing atop it, the girl offers her (binded) hands to the druidic magus with a small smile.

"Make sure to hang tight! He's kinda' got a penchant for not knowing how fast he really is..."

The autumn sun persisted as the two pairs fought with one another on the hill. While their flashy and open conflict may have been feast for the eyes of those Masters who wished to learn more about the obstacles that lay in their warpath, it also posed a tremendous problem. The rules had been broken. In broad daylight, upon one of Sion's principle landmarks, battle was joined.

Unacceptable, stirred the wind.

A presence overhead made itself known. It was not something that had been lurking in the sky unnoticed, but rather something that had moved into its position at tremendous speed, coalescing from a whisper into a trumpeting force as it went. Continuously filling with magical energy, the familiar unfolded. It was wind and breath, vapour and spirit. Still unseen, the spiritual body was held aloft far above Tourbillon.

For all those who observed the battle from a distance, the change was immediately noticeable. The flashing arrows and flying bodies were reduced to little more than blurry spots, barely distinguishable from the hillside. The only aspect of the battle that could still be clearly made out were the bursts of light from clashing weapons and magecraft, but even those were indistinct enough that they could have been small flames or electronic lights. The cause was not a magical illusion, but rather a physical effect brought about by heated air and swirling moisture. A curtain of obscuring wind rendered the events on the hill barely observable to the naked eye.

An electrical fire? A gas leak? The citizens of Sion, whose attention had been drawn to the hill at the centre of town, could no longer determine exactly what they were seeing.

With the events of the battle hidden from outsiders, the spirit in the sky rapidly descended, still casting out sheets of air as it moved. Those beyond the hill could surely discern its presence, but only the two pairs of Servants and Masters battling within the confines of the wind curtain could glimpse the appearance that began to take shape. As with the obscuring air, its visibility was nothing more than the presence of moisture and mist swirling about, but nonetheless a gangly, two-horned body became visible, with a beautiful woman's face poking out from a mess of vaporous hair.

It touched down at a high point on the hill, above the battle between the two warriors, further up towards the Castle than Tengoku had yet managed to reach in his assault. Yet, it was not blocking his path. It confronted the combatants of Tourbillon not with physical threat, but with judgment and authority.

"A few more hours of delay... Would it have been so much to ask..?" The voice hissed from the lips of the familiar.

Judging by the magical energy that swirled within the familiar, it was not on the level of a Servant. Yet, it was powerful. Of a grade beyond the likes of the sheep that Rider had mounted. It stood before all present without fear. Indeed, without any inclination or reaction at all. Even the sentiment of its words were not reflected in any expression or intent. It only conveyed its message in sighs and hisses.

"Stop this. We... who have so graciously hosted you all here... Will not tolerate this conduct." The spirit continued. "Master of Berserker... Take your Servant... and leave this place. Return at sundown, if you must."

Of course, even as the wind spirit offered those words, a beam of destruction flew past, and red arrows of certain death came in response. If Tengoku couldn't even survive long enough for a ceasefire to begin, then the issue would already be half-resolved.

---

The First Day. 15th of November, 2016. 12:02PM.

---

The door to the chapel came open rather promptly at Rhodri's arrival. The one-armed clergyman regarded the Master with some curiosity before greeting him with a half-smile.

"You're the first." He spoke warmly. "Be welcome, both of you. Or..?"

Almost immediately, the priest frowned, seeming ready to correct himself. His attention was drawn down Valère hill, to the presences of soldiers that were moving about below. If the Master and Servant here were paying them no mind, then..?

"No, your Servant's abilities are your own affair. Please, pardon me."

With the door open wide, the priest stepped back into the shaded interior of the chapel. It was dim, but light filtered in through stained windows, and from the open door to the kitchen not far from the altar. The smell of hot tea wafted in the direction of the visitors. Modest wooden benches served as pews, standing in contrast to the brilliantly decorated white stone that made up the space itself.

"No need to worry about the nearby battle, for the time being. The matter is being handled by our host. Or, she's taking the lead, at the least." He frowned. "Anyway. Tea?"

The kitchen in the chapel was unsurprisingly modest, and the tea and confections were clearly cheap, store-bought items. Nonetheless, there was a certain quiet dignity to the meagre spread that had been prepared. It was the offering of a man who had neither pride nor shame in his actions.

"I'm glad someone's decided to pay me a visit, to make themselves known. If certain participants continue to cross the line, I hope I can count on the good sportsmanship of you and the rest to set things right."

What exactly was he offering? The priest didn't elaborate. Just as the barest hint of some deeper intention had been exposed, he snuffed it out with a cheerful smile.

"Ah, but I forgot to introduce myself. Sorry about that, friend! I'm Sebastiano Bianchi of the Holy Church. I'll be overseeing this Holy Grail War as a neutral party, so don't hesitate to rely on me if you decide to give up!"

That had been his weak attempt at a joke, it seemed.

---

The deepest reaches of Valère's construction were pitch-black, cramped, and filled with stale air. These were disused areas and the pieces of negative space behind walls and beneath stairs. Things that could hardly be called rooms, with no connection to the outside world. Not even small animals nested within. It would take four uses of Traceless Traversal to pass through such spaces before finally reaching something that seemed to be linked to the actively in-use sections of the Basilica above.

As with the previous rooms, this cellar lacked any windows, and Jerome would have desperately needed a light source had he lacked his particular arts of navigation. However, a small amount of light did filter in from the edges of the hatch at the top of the stairs. It was locked from the other side, seemingly.

The cellar itself was musty and quiet, with large shelves lining the walls. The items present seemed entirely basic: cans of paint, bags of road salt, spare clothing... Only the broken glass stood out as unusual. There was a great deal of it, piled up near certain empty shelves, accompanied by the faded smell of wine. Not a single bottle remained intact.

Muffled voices sounded from above, along with a strong presence of magical energy. A Servant was just one floor above Jerome, along with others.

Indeed, the hatch to the cellar lay on the floor of a pantry in the chapel's kitchen, where Sebastiano had just invited Rhodri and Second Archer for tea. At that distance, a loud noise or the use of noticeable magecraft had the potential to spell disaster for the thief... Nonetheless, the meeting overhead proceeded smoothly, for the time being.

---

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