Fate/Zero Complex (IC Thread)

[alfheimwanderer]

Abandoned House

As a trained operative of Reconquista, and an intelligence specialist, Ian de Lancaster knew fear quite well. He had inspired it on occasion, when interrogating captured subjects (though he honestly preferred to ply people with coin or drink, given that when tortured, people would tend to say anything in order to escape further torment, leading to wonderful blunders in intelligence); he had experienced it at times when a sweep of guards or so came close to rooting him out or at the moment of a plan coming to fruition; and he had seen it in others, specifically in Albion itself, where royal forces oppressed the people at the whim of a cruel and vengeful King, a man who desired power at all costs. So he marshalled his growing anxiety and instead surveyed his surroundings, taking in the magic circle carved into the ground, the restraints that bound his arms and legs, and the nature of his captor.

'Interesting. His features speak of a foreign origin, and his weapons of choice...a pistol and a knife? Hmm...those are not common among nobles, and yet, the woman who ambushed me simply shrugged off the my wind spells, indicating that either she had equipment...or she has modified her body to use Ancient Magic. A two-man cell from Rub' al Khali, where humans yet fight against the elves?'

A knife was common enough among torturers, but a gun? Not at all.

Besides, that gun looked nothing like a flintlock, as there was no ready firing pan, and while this was not conclusive - it was highly suggestive.

'If his partner is outside, or in the vicinity, I may yet have trouble escaping. Best to be sure his guard is down...or to provoke him into killing me quickly.'

"Reconquista seeks an end to the oppression of the people of Albion by it's mad King, whose abuses of power run rampant - up to and including the destruction of the province of Saxe-Gotha for his own personal greed and imposing his lusts upon the people," he replied simply, meeting his captor's eyes. "Land, he has taken. Gold, lives, and more he has stolen, without anyone to stop him...until now. As to the Princess, she is the secret lover of the Crown Prince of Albion, the field commander of the royalist forces, and capturing her would allow us to force him to surrender, so that no more may have to die needlessly. One shall be taken that a terrible war may be ended, minimizing the casualties on both sides. That is merely justice, for if the sacrifice of one life can save ten, if ten can save a hundred, if a hundred can save a thousand...does it matter if the one is royal?"

---

Charming Fey Brothel
Londinium, Albion

The women trembled as the odd looking man...mage, and the black knight protecting him did their work, asking the strange question of "Where Am I?", making the poor soldier they had seized pass out in fear, as the odor of fear and excrement filled the air. They feared what he would do next, if the mage would turn his power upon them and harm them simply because he could, for he didn't seem entirely sane.

To not know where he was...

Somehow, the whores didn't think the gaunt mage meant (much less cared about) the name of the brothel they were currently in, but that perhaps...they didn't know that they were in Londonium? Could the knight and this man have been prisoners of some kind, who had been trapped in the dungeons of Whitehall or Londonium's famous until recently, losing their wits as the ages passed? The fact that the mage had a powerful black knight as an assistant - maybe some kind of dwarf troll? - would seem to indicate otherwise, but then there had been that raid on Saxe-Gotha years ago, when it was said that an elf bound by unnatural arts had been captured or killed, so if this mage...

Looking at him, Josephine van Pelier, the de facto leader of the girls since the madam had been killed by a stray cannonball, her entrails smeared across the shattered walls of one of the upstairs bedrooms, noted that half of the mage seemed almost dead...no, as if he should be dead.

'And yet he is alive...is he a water mage, perhaps?'

Seeing that some of the younger ones, who had been saved from abuse on the streets, were now cowering in the presence of these two, she stepped forward.

"What do you wish to know?" she asked, swallowing her fear.

---

Captain's Quarters, Airship Pequod
Bound from La Rochelle, Gallia to Scarborough Port, Albion

Captain Horatio Einzben of the Airship Pequod, a grey-haired middle-aged man with a taste for plain and serviceable clothing, had been a sailor of the skies ever since he was a young lad, having served on ships in many a navy, crewing merchant and military vessels alike as he crossed most of Halkeginia. Born into a Germanian merchant family, he had not wished to inherit to business, as work behind a desk, marking ledgers and dealing with an overabundance of paperwork did not suit him. Instead, he sought the spirit of adventure, boldly going where few had gone before, making journeys through the sky to strange and exotic locales and tasting the cuisine of different regions (and women of the regions, to boot). He had commissioned the Pequod a decade ago as a nimble, yet spacious vessel for travelling to Albion - including in its design measures to conceal a broadside of eight falconets (for anti-piracy purposes of course).

...one of his delights was actually to hunt down those scurvy dogs of the sky, watching their faces as the concealed firing ports of his ship were revealed -- and sometimes capturing them as prizes, with his men sharing in the rich bounties.

Indeed, most of his crew was carefully handpicked from those he had once served with in the navy...

Some of the rest, like Nathaniel Stubbins, were...from less than completely clean backgrounds, but had proven effective at their jobs, nonetheless. As a former payroll officer, one did not keep the men of a pirate ship from mutiny without ample ability to cover over the truth, or be forceful when it was necessary. And so he found it interesting that Stubbins brought before him two oddly dressed men - one of them obviously a knight.

'Though I have to question his taste...gold is not the best metal for protection...'

"Stubbins, report," he barked.

"Sir, yes sir!" the first mate answered, producing the jewel that had been given to him earlier and placing it on the Captain's desk. "While on my pre-launch check, I discovered these two in the cargo hold, sir. They have some questions for you, sir, and seem to be interested in our destination."

Captain Einzben pursed his lips curiously, noting the two.

"Very well then, Stubbins. Thank you," he replied after a moment, nodding at his subordinate. "As for you gentlemen...how may I help you today? You will find I keep no secrets, other than those few a man is obliged to keep."

[Theocrass]

Charming Fey Brothel
Londinium, Albion

Kariya sighed heavily before speaking. "My name is Matou Kariya. I do not currently know where I am. I need information, a place to stay, a bath, a change of clothes, and something to tie up that soldier over there. I have little of value on me ... however, in exchange for these things, I will have Berserker defend this establishment as long as we stay. Believe when I say, there is no safe place in this whole city right now. No warrior is his match, and he requires neither food nor sleep. If that is not enough, I can go outside and ..."

Here, he grimaced," ... loot the bodies of the dead, to secure the necessary funds. Though, I would really prefer not to do that."

He looked expectantly to the woman who stepped forward. "So what say you, Miss ... ?"

[alfheimwanderer]

Charming Fey Brothel
Londinium, Albion

The young Josephine digested the mage's offer of protection in return for a place to stay, knowing that refusal would be unwise on a number of levels. For one, in the unlikely event that the eerie mage and his odd retainer simply left the brothel without reprisal, it was likely that others would come in their wake. For another, it was much more likely that angering him would simply lead to one (or more) of the girls suffering, as the warrior with him had shown himself capable of terrible violence.

'Better the evil one knows than the evil one does not...'

"Very well, Lord...Kariya?" Josephine repeated, stumbling over the unfamiliar name. "I think you will find us to be excellent at tying others up, and we can certainly provide you with the other things you see."

[Theocrass]

Charming Fey Brothel
Londinium, Albion

He manages a pained smile. "Thank you. And please, it's just Kariya. I am no lord. May I ask your name?"

Spoiler:

Alfheim's response

He nods in acknowledgment of her answer. "A beautiful name."

He directs his attention to his Servant, momentarily. "Berserker, defend every person in this building with the same vigor you would myself."

He turns his attention back to her. "Now, before we discuss anything more, I'd like to take that bath. Can someone help me with that? I am somewhat ... infirm, at the moment."

[alfheimwanderer]

Charming Fey Brothel
Londinium, Albion

"I am Josephine van Pelier, good sir," the girl replied with a slight curtsy, careful to remain polite despite the mage's insistence on informality. In her experience, those who put aside those formal structures often put aside propriety as well, and so she was a little wary whenever a noble did so. After all, from a mage, compassion tended to become something ugly, as a mage tried to get a commoner to lower her guard and then use her however he wanted. She'd seen it happen enough not to trust in the promises of men, especially nobles.

She was slightly reassured that he'd keep his end of the bargain for now when he asked for his retainer to defend every person in the building...but then why wouldn't he? A nobleman "trapped" in a brothel? There were few more opportune better places for someone to slake his lusts - and no one would miss them if anything were to happen. A protector could just as easily become an assailant, all things considered, and an unmatched guard, a bandit beyond the ability of any to stop.

'Assistance with his bath, is it? And so it begins...'

The rather tanned, slim Josephine allowed none of her trepidation to show on her face though, simply nodding and looking to another one of the older, more experienced working girls.

"Certainly, I will help you to the bathing pool," she said, taking the responsibility herself. "Veronique, would you assist me."

"Yes, of course, Josephine."

[Brynhilde]

Keyneth El-Melloi Archibald / Lancer
Dungerons, palace of Varseilles, Gallia

Keyneth's heart sank lower and lower with each syllable the guard spoke. His stomach made a churning motion thanks to his taunt nerves, and he bit his lower lip to fight the nausea that threatened to swell up yet again behind his throat.

Varseilles? Perhaps the man meant Marseille, or the palace of Varseilles that's actually in France? But Gallia? An ancient name for France, perchace? Did a powerful, wayward magic alter the flow of time, and somehow sent Keyneth tumbling back into the Middle Ages and the feudal era of kings and barons?

But then he heard what the man said about the year. Six thousand… what? Since when did humans go up to 6000 years in their reckoning? And Founder who? Is this pre-Christian times then, or maybe a strange future? As far as he recalled, France didn’t quite acquire the title of Gaul till Roman days, and Roman Gaul certainly had no concept of kings and counts.

For the first time in his life, Keyneth realised all the knowledge he had amassed over the years was useless.

Master, what’s… going on? Weren’t we in a hotel in Fuyuki just a while ago?

Lancer was equally dazed. His brain was still reeling from all the information forced into him during the summoning ritual. However, the more he listened to the guards outside this cell, the more discrepancies he began to discover. This did not sound like the world the Grail intended for him to be summoned into at all, or did the Omnipotent Wish-granting Vessel somehow pulled a huge prank on the Knight of the Lance as a sadistic joke?

His Master had nothing to offer as consolidation. Keyneth was in no shape to take care of his Servant’s worries right now. He was in the dungeons of an alien country, an alien reality even, with no money, no ways of contacting anyone, and he was willing to bet that he didn’t know anyone here either. The only thing he had was the clothes on his back, and a confused Lancer. These two guards outside the cell were his only connection to the outside world, whether he likes it or not.

The Head of the Archibald family didn’t rise to his position simply through his talents and family name alone. El-Melloi knew his ways amongst the powerplay rife in the Clock Tower, being drilled with such arts from a young age. He’d have to get more information out of the guards to better assess the situation. But before that, there was one thought that gnawed at his mind that had to be sorted.

Lancer, do you sense my fiancée – the woman who provided you with prana at the summoning – near by?

There was a pause as Lancer sought an extra prana connection, but it yielded nothing. No, Master. You’re the only one providing me with prana in the vicinity – perhaps, the only one in the world.

An inward sigh dampened Keyneth’s spirits even more. Sola was left behind, and Keyneth was well and truly on his own in this time and space.

“Well, my good men, it seems I finally realised where the root of our disagreements lie.” With a melodramatic sigh, Keyneth rubbed his forehead. “You are correct in the fact that I am a magus. Truth is, my magecraft went awry, and I have somehow teleported – no, was teleported by something else while I was unconscious – into what I presume to be your ruler’s wine cellar.” Spreading his hands in a gesture of peace, Keyneth continued. “I am from a land far away, and my people have never heard of your nation, nor the names of your cities and kings. I mean no harm to your country. In fact, the thing I wish the most right now is to return to my own land. You had mentioned that the Count of this place desired to speak with me personally, did you not? Consider telling him that I am a magus from a realm far beyond the knowledge of any in your country, and for all you know my craft may be completely different from the art that magi in your kingdom wield. I am no spy, and certainly did not desire to intrude upon this fortress.”

[Theocrass]

Charming Fey Brothel
Londonium, Albion

He paused before he stood up. "Would you please have someone clean the boy up, too? I'd rather not have him stewing in his own filth."

Spoiler:

Alfheim's response

With the help of the two girls, he hobbled down the stairs, where they led him into a bathing area. He was immensely relieved to see a large, communal bath. It means he won't have to ask them for any more help. He gently freed himself of their support and made to strip his clothes off by himself.

"That's enough, girls. I can handle myself from here. Just leave the change of clothes and some bandages somewhere I'll see them," he ordered politely.

As he pulled his hoodie off, spasms rocked his body, sending him to his knees. He continued to fumble with his clothes, no longer aware of the girls with him, too busy being frustrated with his physical health.

[alfheimwanderer]

Dungeons, Royal Palace of Versailles, Gallia

The guard named Josef blinked in confusion at the odd magus' words. As someone who'd worked for Count Jean-Baptiste François Joseph de Sade, the Palace's head of security, for a number of years, he had heard prisoners say any number of things to try and get out of their predicaments. Some had claimed that they were innocent, or were framed. Some had admitted their guilt and supplied a bribe, hoping to be granted clemency. A few had tried to claim diplomatic immunity - and a few of those requests had been granted after an audience with the Count himself, given that they were all usually spies of one variety or another actually in the pay of the Gallian crown.

He had never heard - nor expected to hear - anyone claim that they were from some far and distant land, with magics that could apparently teleport a person from place to place.

'...if it's true, and this is someone from Rub'al Khali, which...might be possible, then this is far above my pay grade.'

Josef sighed, looking over at his partner Pierre.

"Go relay our prisoner's message to Count de Sade, would you, Pierre?"

Pierre was less than enthused, knowing that the Count would be unhappy at having his meal interrupted.

"And why won't you do it, Josef?"

"...because I talked to him last time we had an...unusual case, and..."

"Ah, right. You interrupted de Sade during his ... evening affairs, and he gave you a pay cut. Fine. I'll go."

The second guard disappeared down the hallway, leaving Josef to watch the prisoner, whereupon he produced a flask.

"The message has been delivered. Now, if you want your audience with the Count then," the guard informed the blue-robed man, taking his wand and floating the flask over to the prisoner. "Simply drink from the flask...I'm afraid we will have to knock you out temporarily, just as a precaution in case you are a spy."

---

Charming Fey Brothel
Londonium, Albion

When it was first built, around a hundred years or so ago, the Charming Fey Brothel had once been an old-style bathhouse constructed by an old magus who had gone east on one of the Church's great Crusades against the Elves (surviving because he had stopped short of actually fighting the elves and had remained in one of the cities of wonder near the border). However, most nobles built their own private bathing facilities, so his establishment fell into disuse. Thus, he converted the bathhouse into a brothel, as the world's oldest profession always had some demand, especially in a city as large as Londonium, with over a hundred thousand people, including travelling merchants just arrived from the continent and eager to sample Albionian "wares" of every variety. In addition, with as many poor as Londinium had, and as many disgraced nobles fallen on hard times, without any other hope of employment, there was always a steady supply of people willing to serve because otherwise they'd starve.

The bath, in the modern day, was used for the working girls to clean themselves at the end of their shifts, as most clients did not like smelling the scent of another's fluids on them. And then there was of course the occasional client who wished to be pleasured while bathing, so the whores were quite used to almost anything that could be asked of them.

Actual kindness for the sake of it was something they were rather less familiar with, as they'd learned to expect the worst of humanity, given that they saw the worst day in and day out.

Still, Josephine and the others could appreciate the need to keep the soldier boy clean as well, given that they would have to smell him otherwise.

"Vanille," their de facto leader instructed, "First cut off the soldier boy's clothing and bind him. Then take a bucket and wipe off the filth off his body before taking him down to the baths. I would rather not have our pool contaminated."

"Yes, ma'am," the shy Vanille responded, a redhead who had once been a farm girl come to seek her fortune in the city, only to be deflowered and tossed away by some noble playboy. Among the group, she was the most adept at bondage, and so she was asked to do the chore.

Then, Josephine and Veronique had helped the mage down the stairs to the bathing area, whereupon, to their mild surprise, he didn't ask for further assistance. Oh, they knew that men did not generally like to be stripped, as they tended to like retaining power, but to simply have clothes left for him? Perhaps he was weaker than they thought...?

Seeing spasms wrack his body, they became somewhat alarmed, with Josephine in particular taking a step back.

'A shaking plague...a water mage close to death, yet surviving. A grave illness...'

She sent Veronique to get a change of clothing - something one of the old clients had left behind - a set of robes, as she observed, tentatively watching.

"Sir...are you ok?"

[Theocrass]

Charming Fey Brothel
Londinium, Albion

He smiled weakly. "Not really, no. But I'll live."

He paused, examining Josephine more closely, and seeing her step back. "But I can see that hasn't eased your apprehension. If you're worried about disease, then do not. What I have cannot be passed to others. I hope you can take my word, for that, at least."

Spoiler:

Alfheim's response

He grimaced, finally managing to pull off his hoodie, as the right side of his face turned red. "I-It appears I was mistaken earlier. I may require some help getting undressed. I understand if you would rather not help me."

He staunchly refused to meet their gazes, instead fidgeting awkwardly on the ground.

"It would ... also be nice if you had something that could dull pain."

[alfheimwanderer]

Charming Fey Brothel
Londinium, Albion

Josephine van Pelier was indeed somewhat apprehensive about the risk of disease, possibly the infection of some grave parasite, as such twitching and such could not be normal, but as she reminded herself, she had seen worse in her past, when someone sick of mind had...

Well, suffice it to say there were reasons she was not especially trusting of anyone, though she didn't think anyone would fake such pain just to be helped to undress.

"Very well then," she said stoically, stepping closer a bit gingerly as she examined the garments the odd mage wore, noting with interest the fastenings, such that she'd never seen before. She assisted him in disrobing with surprising tenderness, noting the way his body had seemed to atrophy, with odd skin discoloration, muscle tone, and so forth. "As for pain...we do have a palliative, but it is the one we girls use for...pains at a certain time of the month, if you don't mind."

[SeiKeo]

Ryuuosuke was taken aback. Massive crazy? That was not something that he expected from the woman. "Caster-san, she can't help us. Let'd deal with her and move on."

"No."

"Eh?" he asked, puzzled.

"There's no point in killing a madwoman. The beauty in killing lies only in the eyes of those that realize that they are about to die. The madwoman will not give us that. Let her be: there are greener pastures for us to graze."


​"..."

Ryuuosuke had been stunned into silence. He'd been an artist for years now, and never had it occurred to him that the art of killing rested as much on the victim as much as on the artist. "Wicked, man. Just wicked. I don't know about the Holy Grail you were talking about before we got here, but I'll help you with whatever you need! Just teach me more!"

Caster suddenly coalesced out of thin air and smiled, a smile that would have given anyone not rotten to the bone as Ryuuosuke was a chill that would last a lifetime. "Of course, Master. You seemed to be off to a good start, but you still have much you can learn." He walked to the window, and seeing two massive, shining moons, realized what had happened. Truly, the Grail was more powerful than he would have guessed. If it could change worlds, surely he could have his saint back. "It's a whole new world, Master, and you and I are it's devil."

"Awesome!" Ryuuosuke exclaimed, running up to Caster and shaking his hand like a little kid meeting Neil Armstrong. "But... what do we do with her?" he asked as he gestured towards the woman on the bed. "We can't have her tell about us."

"Yes, you are correct. Well then, we shall have to accept mediocre results." From a pocket somewhere in his robes, he withdrew a book bound in human skin, flipped a few pages, and mumbled a few words, then returning it to his pocket. Suddenly, a mass of writhing black tentacles descended from the ceiling, and seized the woman's arms. She didn't even have time to scream before she was pulled back into the ceiling and consumed with a sickening crunch.

For the second time that night, Ryuuosuke was at a loss for words. He could see the new horizons opened for him alongside that man unfolding, and they were beautiful.

[Milbunk]

Tokiomi Tohsaka / Archer
Airship to Albion

I quickly spoke to Archer using our link. “If you would allow me your majesty, I may be able to find out our location and where exactly we have been teleported to. After all we have no idea of our location so it might be best to try and trick these people into getting the information.”

Archer spoke back a hint of impatience in his voice. “You had better know what you are doing, I do not take kindly to people who waste my time.”

After getting confirmation from Archer I then spoke to the captain. “Greetings Captain, my name is Tokiomi and my friend here can be called Archer. We are nobles from a distant land and we do not intend to pry into your affairs. We only ask that you supply us with a place to stay while we are on this journey. Also it would be most helpful if you could tell us of the date and time for we have lost track and any maps or record books as well so that we may be able to familiarize ourselves with this land more easily. Once we have arrived at our destination, it would be most appreciated if you would be able to escort us to the highest ranking person in the city.”

If need be I can use one of my more persuasive spells, but for now this should be all that is needed.

[Theocrass]

Charming Fey Brothel
Londonium, Albion

He smiled weakly. "That will be fine."

It was only when they got him down to his undergarments that he stopped them. Blushing, he said, "Ah, this really is enough. I can handle this much, at least. So, uh, you can go now."

Kariya practically bolted for the water, eager to be away from the eyes of pretty women.

[alfheimwanderer]

Villa Orleans, Gallia

Once, decade ago, Villa Orléans had bustled with activity, with nobles, servants, commoners all flocking about, given Ragdorian Lake's strategic position on the border of Gallia and Tristain. Once, it had been the hub of life for a region with the most beautiful scenery in Halkeginia, where nobles from all over the continent would gather, or at least where merchants would pass by on the way to Lutèce or Versailles. It made no sense not to, as most of the major highways leading into the country from the northeast ran close to the shore of the lake.

In those times, the talented Duke of Orleans was loved by all, and it was thought that when the King died, he would surely claim the throne. He had established contacts, built up networks, made friends in many countries...but in the end, it was not he, but his powerless brother, a veritable Zero at magic, who was obsessed with model-building and other strangeness, who was given the throne. A faction had considered rebellion, but their patron, the Duke of Orleans was murdered, struck in the chest with a poisoned arrow.

It was a disgrace: a person who was nobler than anyone else in this country, a skilled and talented mage, was killed not by magic, but by some mundane method.

The regret and the indignation were unimaginable, but the nightmare was just beginning for the Orleans family, as those who supported King Joseph wanted to squash any future chances of rebellion. As such, they summoned the Duchess and her daughter to a state dinner to pay their respects for the late Duke...but poisoned the drink of Charlotte d'Orleans. The Duchess realized this, and in order to protect her daughter, drank it herself. After this, the family fell, and the Villa was all but abandoned, with the daughter sent into exile after successfully completing a series of suicide missions, forced to study abroad to minimize risk to the Crown, removing a figure behind which a rebellion could rally.

And out of all those who had once walked those halls, Percerin, the old butler that had faithfully served the Orléans family for decades, was the only one left in a house of death, a spiritless place like a temple preparing for a funeral. There was no hope left, no life.

Still, he did his job mechanically, making sure the debilitated duchess still had an intake of water and food each day so she would not die, and so he headed to the room, opening the door, only to drop his tray in horror at what he witnessed within.

---

Captain's Quarters, Airship Pequod
Bound from La Rochelle, Gallia to Scarborough Port, Albion

Captain Horatio Einzben acknowledged the statements of the noblemen with a simple nod, a thoughtful frown crossing his lips. If they were truly from a foreign land, that would explain much, such as why they did not know the date, if they had been travelling for a long time. One tended to forget the passage of time on the road, given the monotony of things - though these looked as if they could have afforded dragon transport, which would not have taken much time - and they didn't seem like travellers to his experienced eye.

Men used to being treated with respect, but not those too well travelled.

'Ah well, with enough coin, one can overlook most discrepancies.'

"Very well then, Tokimi, Lord Archer," the man replied, keeping up the semblances of civility. "I will of course assume you have the means to pay for such accommodations, as the journey to Albion can be a treacherous one. The skies are fraught with pirates these days, with the activities of the royals or the rebels gathering force in that island nation. It is strange to think that the first day of spring, 6000 years after the Founder's passing, should be one of violence, but as they say, war never truly ends."

He smiled then, a razor thin expression with little mirth.

"You may look at my maps, but as for who the highest ranking person in the city may be - it is unknown with the ongoing civil war."

---

Charming Fey Brothel
Londonium, Albion

Josephine called up the request for a phial of palliative to Veronique, who came down a few minutes later with a bundle of robes and glass vial of something pink and bubbly, resembling this world's Pepto-Bismo. Apparently, this was the potion for relief of pain that they had mentioned.

"This is the palliative, sir. It works best on cramps and bloating, but it does a masterful job of soothing other aches and pains as well," the whore related, as the bundle was set down nearby, on a waiting marble bench.

She was surprised at the nature of his undergarments, as they didn't seem like the braies, chausses, or codpiece typically worn by nobles, but some kind of elastic fabric not too much unlike the panties of noblewomen.

'How odd...ah, perhaps that isis why he treats us so fairly. Perhaps he has no interest in women...his retainer could be his lover, I suppose...'

"The palliative, sir?" she asked out loud, holding out the vial to the mage.

[Fangstrike]

Emiya Kiritsugu
Abandoned House

Kiritsugu felt a headache coming on. Out of all the people to deal with, true believers were the worst. Whether it was religion, ideal, or a cause, they were zealots in their loyalty towards it, and it was a waste of time to convince them otherwise. The man had confirmed most of what he had heard from the townspeople.

Reconquista was a gathering of Albion nobles who sought to overthrow the mad King. And while their strategy was something Kiritsugu could understand, the target was the problem. Right now, Albion was embroiled in a civil war, but if the Reconquista followed through with their kidnapping of Princess Henrietta, it was highly possible that Tristan, which was currently neutral, might go to war with Albion, further fanning the flames of war. Rather than cutting the war short, the actions of the Reconquista would just make things worse. Perhaps, that was what the higher echelons wanted, having set their eyes on Tristan's lands. It wasn’t an unusual scenario.

That left Kiritsugu was left with few options – kill Cromwell or the Albion Royal Family. Well, that was if he still had his former resources. Right now, that was nothing more than a pipe dream. Kiritsugu lacked resources and connections, something he hoped to get from this man. Then again, there was a third choice – kill both.

Regardless, he could tell that breaking this man would take some time. Kiritsugu didn’t miss the way the other man was sizing him up, nor the calculating look passing behind the other man’s eyes. Kiritsugu often found the best way to deal with these types of people was to wear them down physically and mentally.

“A sound plan and a worthy cause. What’s your name?”

[Theocrass]

Charming Fey Brothel
Londinium, Albion

He accepted it hesitantly, and then quickly sank back into the water to conceal the flesh he exposed.

"Thank you very much, Miss Pelier."

He flushed when he noticed she was still in the room. "Uhm ... Can you please leave? I feel indecent right now. It's a taboo to be naked around someone who isn't your spouse, where I come from."

[Froggie]

Waver Velvet and Rider
Tiffania's Orphanage, Albion

Waver Velvet was, in his own opinion, a genius. That the Clock Tower would not acknowledge his brilliance because of their antiquated dogma that valued ancestry over diligence was, without a doubt, the greatest travesty ever in the history of thaumaturgy. That is why when he found out about the Heaven’s Feel competition where only skill, and not ancestry, mattered above all else he had made his mind to steal his lecturer’s sacred artifact and participate in the bloody tournament himself. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that his summoning circle had been perfect. In the isolated park clearing in the far eastern land of Fuyuki, he had toiled over the circle with great caution and precision.

There was no mistake in his summoning, of this he was certain.

His keen and brilliant mind analyzed the results of his spell and immediately determined that something had gone wrong and that it most certainly had not been his fault. No sooner had the giant man that was to be his familiar, his Servant, appeared than he had known that something outside the norm had happened. How had he determined that something was amiss? The feeling of weightlessness, the wind in his hair, and the ground closing in were the first clues.

“GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAurk!!”

Crash. Thud. Pain.

"Ow! My node! I dink I broke id!"

Something definitely went wrong and it wasn’t his fault.

Most certainly, one didn’t have to be a genius of Waver’s level to determine this fact, but it was still a definite comfort to be able to grasp the situation so quickly and accurately.

Standing groggily to his feet, with no small amount of wobbling and unsteadiness, Waver dusted his face and clothes off and took a look at his surroundings after ascertaining that his nose was NOT, in fact, broken after all.

Firstly, he was no longer in the park clearing, though he was still in a forested area.

Secondly, there were no signs of his summoning circle, instead a series of rustic cottages.

Thirdly, he was surrounded by a gaggle of children looking at him with bright and curious eyes. Surrounded by children with mostly Caucasian features when just moments before he had been in Asia.

And, finally, it had been well into the night when he had prepared his summoning and now the sun was out.

Conclusion? He was no longer in Japan, he surmised.

Where was this and how had he managed to skip hemispheres in mere seconds? A forced teleportation spell as part of the summoning ritual? This was no part of the Heaven’s Feel that he knew about from his research into the tournament. What had happened? And where was his Servant?

“That was some landing, boy!” he heard a disembodied voice whisper in his ear, amusement evident in the tone, “Breaking the fall with your face was really something!”

Waver grit his teeth and restrained himself from shouting out loud at his Servant. The man must be in spirit form and invisible, he surmised from what he knew of the tourney. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about him frightening the children, he thought. Ah, that’s right. A perfect source of information was well within reach. Putting on his best friendly face possible, he spoke in a soothing tone to the gaping children in front of him.

“Hello,” Waver said, trying his best to sound pleasant and amicable, “I’m a little lost right now. Where are we? Is there an adult I could talk to? A teacher or a nanny?”

No mention of falling from the sky, of course. Geniuses don’t dwell on past mistakes, after all.

Even when they made no mistake at all, really.

Honestly.

[SeiKeo]

As Ryuuosuke and Caster walked to the door of the room, it opened, revealing an ancient butler, carrying a tray of food and water. Seconds later, the tray dropped to the ground in shock and horror. Well, it was a pretty understandable reaction. After all, it's not every day, or every lifetime really, that a butler walks into his mistress' room and sees two men inside, with no trace of her and the bed covered in blood.

"Did you really have to drop that? I always get hungry after doing some work." Ryuuosuke was genuinely disappointed. Whatever had brought them to this strange world with two moons had worked up his appetite, and whatever Caster had done had consumed the woman entirely. Plus, he liked his meals younger and not totally raw. Cooked bloody rare, with some pepper and salt, maybe a little mushroom sauce... Okay, he decided, that was a little off topic. "Anyways, who might you be?"

The butler was still so shocked that he could only stammer "P-P-Percerin."

"And what do you do here, Percerin?"

Silence. He clearly wasn't able to say much else.

"Tsk tsk. It's not polite to be like that to a guest, you know? Then again, neither is this." With that, Ryuuosuke punched Percerin in the side of the head, knocking him out flat. "Caster-san, what do you think about saving this one? We kind of got off on a weak start; let's do a proper job this time."

"Ah Master, I'm glad you already understand me. I was thinking the same."

Ryuuosuke started tearing the butler's clothes into strips, using them to securely tie him up. "Now, let's leave him here and see what else is in this place," Ryuuosuke said as he hauled the butler into the bedroom and threw him onto the bed.

---

It turned out to be a fairly large mansion in the countryside, with a ample amount of rooms. All the usual trappings that you would expect from one, except for the fact that there wasn't anything remotely modern. The strange summoning seemed to have changed time as well as space. But in the basement, they hit jackpot. Through a door and down a flight of stairs was a monstrous bathing chamber. The central feature was a large circular pool, maybe 15 feet in diameter. Surrounded by massive Greek-Doric pillars stretching 25 feet to the ceiling, water constantly poured into it from the mouths of marble lions placed lower on the columns, providing a number of primitive showers. Surrounding it were about five smaller pools, each with temperature going from icy cold to hod enough that you would only be able to sit in it for a few minutes. Off to the side, there are two stone chambers that seemed to have the ability to serve as a sauna or steam room. Both Caster and Ryuuosuke had large grins on their faces. This was certainly a temple worthy of the grand art that they would fill it with.

[alfheimwanderer]

Abandoned House

"My name is of no relevance in the present situation," Ian de Lancaster responded evenly enough, keeping his voice carefully neutral. "What is a name but a symbol of what one represents, after all? Much as a title that one inherits is rather meaningless in the grand scheme of things, only what one manages to accomplish. This is why I was dispatched to Tristain to arrange the kidnapping of the princess, given past successes. And as you likely know, stranger, Tristain, as the weakest country of Halkeginia, would not go to war to retrieve a princess who has no wish to rule. The Lord Regent, Cardinal Mazarin has enough trouble maintaining internal control that he would not dare embark on such a futile misadventure, as no nation had ever successfully invaded the White Kingdom in over 6000 years. Perhaps if he managed to secure an alliance with the warlike Germanian Empire, he might consider such a thing, but without the Princess to use as a bargaining chip in a political marriage, Tristain has no hope of forging such an alliance. Alas, you seem to have me at a disadvantage."

It might seem that he was revealing more than he had to, but all he was relating was common knowledge, a useful enough tactic in countering the efforts of an interrogator. After all, what any interrogator sought was information, and as long as he provided something, they were usually willing to refrain from torture, given the inefficacy of such distasteful means.

"And what of you, stranger?" the spymaster questioned, curious about his captor. "I can see that you are not of this land, given your unusual dress and choice of arms, so what is your interest in all this?"

---

Charming Fey Brothel
Londinium, Albion

"Very well then," the girl acknowledged, nodding slightly. "I will be just upstairs if you require my assistance."

As she walked up the stairs, listening to the splashing in the distance, Josephine van Pelier was actually rather taken aback by the actions of the odd mage, who was apparently rather uncomfortable being naked around women. Indeed, by his words, he seemed to think that it was a taboo to be naked around one who wasn't one's spouse - which was rather amusing, given that he had asked for assistance in the bath, and had sought shelter in a brothel.

'Such discomfort is not usual, though perhaps it is an excuse not to show his body, given what ailments he likely has. Those who magic has not been able to fully cure often feel ashamed of their disfigurements, especially when they are powerful individuals themselves. They tend to see it as a curse from God. Or well...perhaps he simply isn't interested in women. That could work too.'

---

Tiffania's Orphanage, Albion

To say that the orphans in the hidden village were a tad surprised to see someone falling out of the sky and landing on his face was a bit of an understatement, as visitors rarely came to the woods at all, much less in such a dramatic fashion. And why would they, after all, since almost no one in Halkeginia cared for the fate of orphans, as they provided little to the world. On the odd occasions when an outsider did appear, the children turned to their caretaker and honorary "Big Sis" Tiffania, the one who had sheltered them after the destruction of their homes half a decade ago, giving everything she had to make sure they would grow up well.

"Big Sis Tiffania! Big Sis!" they called and chanted, and in response to their calls, a girl with fair, river-like flowing hair appeared from the far cottage. She wore a green, crude, short, one-piece dress, but rather than damaging her beauty, it suited her nicely. Slender lovely legs ran down her short skirt, with white sandals framing her pretty feet.

She looked over towards the calling, blinking in surprise at the sight of the somewhat androgynous figure she saw there - especially as black hair was not something she had ever seen. Blonds, reds, browns, certainly, but black? Such was not native to Halkeginia...

The girl looked hesitant for a moment, then, as if deciding something, took a deep breath and approached, seeming to force herself to smile.

As she moved, she seemed as if she was covered with light, because of her long hair falling left, right and through the middle. Her blond hair was like a waving golden sea reflecting sunshine rays falling from the window, puzzling and dancing on her face. It was like a CG showing the face with a perfect outline and a perfect silhouette, beautiful, but making one nervous at the same time. And… through a part of her golden hair, unnoticed, pointed ears peeped.

"Um, can I help you, sir?"

[Theocrass]

Charming Fey Brothel
Londonium, Albion

Bathing was a long and arduous process for Kariya. He had to be gentle with his skin, so as not to aggravate any of his complications. He had to be slow, any violent movements would leave him spasming.

The drink had helped somewhat, dulling his many pains slightly. The taste wasn't the worst he'd ever had, either.

He allowed himself to relax slightly mid-way through his bath. He spent a few minutes just soaking in the water, allowing it to provide him some temporary comfort. He'd paid the boy no mind when they brought him down to be cleaned.

All in all, it was an hour before he felt clean enough to leave the bath. It took another fifteen minutes to get dressed and cover the left side of his face with bandages. It wouldn't do to panic the girls any more than necessary.

He hobbled up the stairs, into the main room. The sounds of battle still rang out, loud and clear.

He looked around to see the women settling in as the reality of their situation hit them. Some were doing chores, others were talking quietly amongst themselves.

He coughed lightly to get Josephine's attention. "Ah, Miss Josephine ... ? Is the boy awake yet? And, is there somewhere we can talk, privately?"