Location: The Deacon Arms Tavern: roof → basement.
Interacting with: Leon Winchester & Saber of Red @vancexentan; Albert Prelati @Turboshitter; James Hartnet @Shadow Daedalus.
Magical energy: 592 out of 600.
It wasn't a bad view from the roof of the tavern; Archer couldn't find himself distantly musing about the progress of society while he kept his watch from his spiritual form. It had only been a little over 500 years, hadn't it? In his life, he was jumping into moats and galloping along beaten tracks on horseback, yet now they had great towers over cars and sealed roads. The change in social norm was also astounding: it was almost as if he had stepped into a whole different world from what he was familiar with. Supposedly, there was even a street named in his honor after he gave his life for the cause. What a shame that he wasn't summoned in Fran-
Archer's senses spiked; spiked wasn't a fair word to use, it more so
screamed at him. A massive outburst of magical energy- no, wait, a servant-
"Saber!?" Archer almost shouted, taken off guard by the sudden appearance of the unfamiliar servant
below him. No doubt, his words would ring through the mind of his master.
"Saber's back, underneath us! Alert the others!"Archer wasted no time moving to respond. In his spiritual form, after taking a quick glance over the perimeter from the roof, he pressed down through ceiling and floors alike, seeking out the source of his sensory screaming. It led him to the basement: where an unfamiliar figure stood before...
"...two of the masters. Good heavens-" At the foot on the stairwell, Archer materialized: he was half-kneeling, pistol presented towards the unwelcome servant. In his mind, as much as it sat wrong with him, he knew what he would have to do: if he was going to stand a chance against a Saber-class in such inhospitable circumstances, he couldn't hold back. He would need to use his Noble Phantasm, and if that didn't work, the staircase might give him a chance to dematerialize again before he's bisected.
"Get down!" Archer shouted to the two masters in the basement as he focused his aim on the servant. The words sat on the tip of his tongue, ready and able: he would have to act as David to Goliath yet again.
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