Lancer
Day 0
Urquhart Castle
A brilliant light emanated from the summoning circle, glowing brightly, and intensifying as the incantation continued. The power being poured through the circle can be felt by everyone as powerful winds began to pick up. Of course, this was all expected. The amount of magical energy it takes to summon a heroic is immense, far too much for a normal Magus to accomplish on their own. Most of the power used to summon one comes from the Grail itself, after all. And to summon as many as seven of them, let alone fourteen? Truly, the Holy Grail's power is undeniable.
And so, a Heroic Spirit comes forth, heeding the call of the magus who summoned him. His body slowly manifests, forming out of a blinding light far more awe-inspiring than the light emanating from the circle. Like a beacon of hope, this light shines across the field, giving those present an idea of just what sort of hero has been called forth. Not one of Man, of the Earth, or of the Heavens, but a Heroic Spirit of the Stars; One who has left behind a great hope in the history of humanity.
As the winds died down and the lights dimmed, a figure can be seen standing in the middle of the circle. A white-haired man, wearing a shining suit of plate armor fit only for a king. The waning light of the summoning circle played tricks with the heroic spirit's gleaming armor and, along with his unearthly countenance, gave the man an appearance of a great and mighty hero.
A true
Champion of Christianity.
The Heroic Spirit
opened his eyes, looking at the magus who has called him forth. A pale, frail-looking girl, and with the strangest of eyes, as well. Despite her frailty, her call to summoning was... strong. Strong enough to draw him forth to the one class this specific Heroic Spirit despised the most. One that he would otherwise refuse under normal circumstances.
"I must ask of the one that stands before me..." the Servant began to speak, facing the white-haired magus. His voice had a strange tone to it. Commanding, yet calm. Imposing, yet elegant. It is one that would only be fitting for the likes of an Emperor, one who managed to reunite an entire nation once deep in conflict.
"Are you the one that is to be my Master in this Holy War?"As he asked that last question, a subtle strain had appeared on his face that only the more observant patrons would bear to witness. It could be best described as an expression one would make if they had a headache. And indeed, this assumption wouldn't be far from what this Servant-to-be is experiencing, as a seraphic, yet foreboding voice began to speak only to him, deep within the recesses of his mind.
These will be your subjects. They will bend to your will.
Or you will make them
Yankee
Dane