[notDEADyet]

It had been too long since she'd been on a bike. As recklessly as she liked to live she always picked four wheels over two. Her personal driver wasn't bad at what he did, it didn't keep her from clinging tightly to him.

It would be just her luck that she die in some horrific crash before the war even started. The drive did give her plenty of time to get her thoughts together. She had been somewhat ill prepared, it would be important to fake it. It wasn't likely, she knew, that she would fool anyone. It was worth a shot.

When she got off the bike she thought her legs might give out. She covered a laugh, hardly getting a chance to look around before a question was directed at her, "Hm?" She turned and raised her brows until she could see who was speakin. "Oh. Yeah, well, he's good company." So, keeping him around wasn't normal. Awesome. "You can't say the same?"

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Caught somewhere between wistfulness and cold reason, the numerologist replies. "My Servant and I have a functional rapport. It won't do to grow too attached, not with the fate that awaits him once we've won." Her attention is drawn briefly to the pulse of her mana through the Command Seals on her hand. It will not bring her any great displeasure to compel Rasputin's death as the final component of the Grail Ritual. The hoary old shade is well-used to betrayal.

[Gallagher]

There were still a lot of snacks left, and even though Erik wasn't entirely sure where they all came from, he didn't mind bringing them all downstairs and setting them on the first nice table he saw. On the third trip downstairs, he saw an older man standing by the table. He blinked, but didn't stop walking, his attention turning down when he reached the table so he could set the snacks out nicely with the others.

There was no question what the man was. Any mage would know an Executor on sight, regardless of what they looked like. This man, however, was showing his position in every article he wore and the very way he held himself. He didn't belong there, the Executor with no mana that Erik could discern. The bounded field was still in place, there was no mistaking Ruler's mana at work. "Merlin will come down soon, if you're looking for her."

[notDEADyet]

"Harsh," she nodded, stuffing hands into her jacket. It was obvious that not everyone would like their servants. They were here to die. She looked to Rider who seemed fascinated with the lines of the church. She turned back to the mage near her. "Good outlook, though. Thinking positive about winning. That's probably a good strategy."

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Leila blinks, taking in the younger woman's odd words. "I don't know if you'll believe me when I tell you this, but I do not mean it as a threat when I say that my victory in this war is a certainty. My Servant holds an insurmountable advantage. It would not be a foolish decision to flee." Leila surprises herself at how composed she sounds, the usual nervous quaver absent from her voice. Standing upon deadly ground will do that, she supposes.

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Heinrich betrays not even the slightest breath or twitch of muscle as the simple-sounding youth addresses him. He knows with utter certainty that, despite whatever magics the man-child commands, he could crush his skull in the span of a heartbeat, shatter his chest and tear out that very heart before a single neuron could fire, or hurl him through one of the nearby marble pillars, he supposed, if he was feeling dramatic.

With every syllable measured, "Is this not a place of prayer? I'd thought to find the company of Christ, not some heathen sorcerer."

[Gallagher]

He frowned and looked up at the question. "Oh." Erik didn't know what to think of the man's expression, so he just went back to arranging snacks. "There's going to be too many people here for any quiet prayer, but if you're going to stay, I'm sure the Lord's company will still be with you."

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Either the boy is a simpleton, or he is a effecting a facade that would impress a Dead Apostle. Given the lack of any of the hapless populace, Father Heinrich can only assume that they have entered some sort of sequestered space, to keep their bloody dealings from the public eye, which would imply that only a fellow Master could be standing before him. And yet....

"Tell me, boy. What cruel faction put you up to this? Are you even a mage? You cannot believe that you stand a chance in this war."

The possibility exists that the youth has no idea what he's saying. To all appearances, though, that would be the case whether he is, in fact, a Master, or not.

If this is the caliber of the opposition, though... Heinrich could have sent his greenest apprentice to retrieve the Grail and remained secure in the outcome. Pathetic.

[Gallagher]

"You aren't a mage." He turned to face the man, leaning with his leg against the side of the long table. "You have no mana of your own, beyond what Od any person would have. Only the objects on your person have any hint of magic. Why are you here?"

[Suzerain of Sheol]

And that was all the confirmation he required.

"The Holy Grail is the property of the Church by right of inheritance. I am here to secure it, to prevent its desecration at the hands of heretic magi." He adds, with no intention of ever sparing the boy, "Renounce your life of sin and embrace the Lord anew, forfeit this war and all your demoniac pursuits, and there may yet be salvation for your soul." Heinrich's old voice cracks like a whip in the high-vaulted chamber, dripping with judgment.

[Gallagher]

This was a dangerous man. One that Erik wouldn't want to meet again. But then, he had always been told not to trust people from the Church, an Executor the least of all. "I don't want the Holy Grail," he said, unchanged by either the man's countenance or tone. "Do you want something to drink?"

[Suzerain of Sheol]

"Spare me. This summit is a farce. Don't think it will make it any more difficult to put you in the grave when the time comes, proffering peace when you have nothing to lose." Heinrich withdraws a rosary from the pocket of his vestment -- surprisingly not a magical weapon -- and begins to pray while waiting for the others to arrive.

[notDEADyet]

She let herself look the woman over for a long moment. She wasn't lying, at least she didn't think she was. This broad actually thought that she was the end all and be all. She shrugged a shoulder and offered a smile, "I've never been accused of being smart, I'd hate to start now. I don't want my reputation ruined if I'm about to die." She made sure that what she said in the end was as sincere as possible, "I appreciate the heads up, though."

[Poggio]

“Swabbie-” Mary spoke, grateful she was not physically around her master “Wha' does a pirate doth wit' booty, 'n how does one find it? “ She couldn’t keep the humor out of her voice as she gave him her next answer. "I be nay a mast’r o’ sanity. Like maps ‘n flask, ‘tis a pow’r that comes ‘n goes. I doth not wisheth t’ drain ye o’ yer mana…” If lips curl and the phantasm be seen, nothing but a smirk would have beset her features. “But if ye insist, anoth’r night o’ watchin’ ye drowneth in grog will peth me thar.”

[Suzerain of Sheol]

She isn't sure what she's trying to accomplish with this conversation. She's never been a persuasive person, and the idea of swaying a Master out of the Holy Grail War is preposterous. One does not come this far on faltering conviction. And even then, why bother? This woman's life is nothing to Leila. Basic human dignity will not win her any favors, when the time for them to do all in their power to enact the other's death finally comes. The experience is making her uncomfortable. She doesn't want to know her enemies.

"Despite what the fanatics of my family's homeland might claim, disregard for one's own mortal existence is not an advantage in war. Not that I have any intention of aiding of you. I'll destroy you first or last, whatever is more expedient." Leila stares off towards the church while she speaks, growing unsettled even looking at the other Master.

"We've wasted enough time here." The heels of her boots clack on the flagstone as she walks away.

[Quiet Man Cometh]

"Shall we head inside?"

Rider comes up to Ell's side as the other master walks away. "If she has a servant near by I don't sense it, but there are at least two in the area. That means there is at least one other master in the area..."

Rider pauses, staring at a crouched figure in the distance. It looks like a pile of carrion. It's...a servant?