Saturday 10th April, 1999
Morning (Phase 1-1)


It was a deceptively calm Saturday morning in Sicily, with the usual tensions, grievances and growing positivity. The Mafia had been greatly weakened and unemployment has been falling dramatically. Decades ago the release of Pope John XIII's final encyclical, Pacem in terris (Peace on Earth), addressed to all men of good will, which stipulated that conflicts "should not be resolved by recourse to arms, but rather by negotiation" and that "every man has the right to life, to bodily integrity, and to the means which are suitable for the proper development of life..." People were now feeling that positivity and hope.

Magi had little care of the Church. It was a rival in their world, constraints upon this world… yet they were only interested in what they could perceive, such was their limitation. Ever since the secret of the infamous “Holy Grail War” ritual had been leaked, what was once secret and sacred was spreading like a plague with magi fighting and dying all over the world to attain the fabled Holy Grail.

And to have their wish granted.

The Church once intervened with these rituals as neutral mediators and as to prevent unnecessary bloodshed but the sheer inflation meant that the Church is no longer able to regulate them safely, with most without intervention. Their forces were stretched so thin that even when close to the Vatican, magi were free to do as they pleased in order to achieve their goal.

Sicily shall bear witness to such individuals; Agrigento to the south is home of the Valley of Temples, where ancient artefacts - including the world-famous Temple of Heracles - can be found, and in advance of one of these wars, magi seek a good catalyst.

With such a thing, one could summon a Heroic Spirit from the past to fight for them in the Holy Grail War.

But this isn’t where the story truly begins.
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Prologue

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Casimir Zaleski
Zaleski London Family Residence
A few weeks before…
Morning (Phase Null)
300/300 MP


It was a painful truth to stare oblivion in the face. Of course you had been doing that for a while now, although the pain was numbed from accepting the fact the truth was it was still very much there.

Previous attempts at strengthening the bloodline had failed. You will never reach the Root. Your heirs will never reach the same heights as you.
‘I have failed as a Magus.’ You have told yourself.

To be a Captain of a sinking vessel was truly diabolical.

Now although it would have been all to easy to just stop and wallow in your own misery, you could not do that. You were better than that and to do so would be an insult to all those who have stood as previous heads of the house hold.

Fortunately there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

The ‘Holy Grail War’, the worst kept secret of the modern day magus.

Through one way or another, you have managed to acquire a few sources of information and compiled everything into a single tome of knowledge for you to study.

The history of the wars, the families who had maintained it, masters, servants, command seals…

You had a long day ahead of you, the question was simply where to start?

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Myles Alcott
Porto Empedocle - Docks
A few hours before…
Afternoon (Phase Null)
500/500 MP


The Holy Grail War hadn’t even started in earnest and you were already painting a big target on your back.

As an Archaeologist/Dashing Treasure Hunter, you hadn’t taken too kindly to the men who destroyed the priceless artefacts you had just uncovered in what may have been the worst attempt at theft you had seen.

Naturally you ran and were pursued. After some unpleasant scuffles, you had managed to deduce the truth of the situation you had been flung in.

‘Holy Grail War’


Wasn’t that a deathtrap for every single mage that entered these strange contests?

That’s what you thought when you first head of them but the truth was almost more unsettling.

‘Heracles Catalyst’


What was that?

A Heracles Catalyst… it sounded like treasure, though not something particularly useful, as the demand for it had put a target on your back the size of the London Eye as you guessed. What did it even mean though? Would the person who found it get one of Heracles’ abilities or something? Indomitable strength, or armor crafted from the hide of the Nemean Lion? Or maybe just a really big sword?

From what you could piece together, you had figured out that whoever had this ‘Heracles Catalyst’ would win the ‘Holy Grail War’ and had a chance to reach The Root.
The goal of all Magi.

However given a few attempted assailants and one that almost blew your head off not long ago…

These people shouldn’t have their wish granted. Plenty of regular spellcasters identified as mages. If one of them acquired the Grail and were of the same mindset as the people you’d already encountered, they wouldn’t be aiming for the Root. They’d have far more dangerous things in mind. As such, your only option was to start hunting for this artefact yourself. You would need to take matters into your own hands.

The question was what to do before leaving for the upcoming battle royale?


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Rangdris Keyron
Derelict Scottish Mansion
A few months before…
Evening (Phase Null)
500/500 MP


The body hits the floor.

The crimson smeared across the walls and the squelch of the corpse, though once sickening had begun to feel almost songlike.
But it was never enough. Your thirst for vengeance was never able to be quenched. This however was very satisfying.

This man had cost you much and you took away everything in turn. It was easy to track him down and although tearing down a magus in his own workshop was difficult, it made it that much more rewarding. He was face down on the floor begging for his life and you told him a single word.

‘No.’


You refused to learn his name, as that would make him human. All you needed to know was what he had done to you and how many more were left. Now that this was all said and done, you had what was left of the workshop at your disposal that hadn’t been destroyed in the ensuing onslaught before moving onto your next target.
But a lead would be good…



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Raven Cornelia Gardner
Clock Tower
A few weeks before…
Afternoon (Phase Null)
600/600 MP


You could hear your father downstairs, rustling through the drinks cabinet. The glasses and mahogany wood was firm but he was as subtle as a bull chasing drunken tourists in a Spanish alleyway. You weren’t looking forward to the celebrations, not because of any opinions on your fathers taste in alcohol but rather the forced socialising it would entail.

Your father would have a few too many and attempt a speech only for you adorable little brother to derail it and bring up an embarrassing old memory, your mother… She was a busy woman unfortunately.

A shame since your family was about to reach The Root.

A ‘Middle-class’ mage like yourself was going to become the greatest in history.

As you looked through your record selection, looking for something suitably powerful to set the mood, you hear a knock on the door.

“Sister, are you ready? We’re about to begin.”



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Xherdan Knellwulfr
Tyndareus’ Safe Room Basement
A few weeks before…
Afternoon (Phase Null)
500/500 MP


You had facilities all over the world but it felt good to come back to where is all started every now and then.
Selling bootleg Mystic Codes was easy enough to keep profit margins in the black when done right.

Given the recent influx of these ‘Holy Grail War’ death battles, you focus had switched to catalyst peddling. Not that you had any real interest in them yourself, your personal goals were more in tune with the material world and actually viable. In these so-called grail wars… chances were that you’d die. Everyone always lost in these games and you didn’t play games unless you could rig the system and guarantee a big pay day.

You’d managed to establish yourself as one of the best in the market when it came to catalysts. It was easier to profit from other peoples bad decisions after all.
Genuine authentic holy relics that ought to summon the greatest spirits… worthless replicas… you sold them both and everything in between. It’s been what making your fortune as of late.

A new opportunity had arisen, so like any good dealer at a casino, you were loading the deck. You didn’t have long to plan out your two week takeover of Agrigento; bribes, cameras…

You had orders to make-

But first-

You had to wake up an old friend.



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And here are the beginnings to the battle for the right to control the worlds greatest hero.

Will you claim the catalyst?

Will you summon the legend?

Or will you all slaughter each other.

The Great Heracles Hunt