[Gallagher]

The impatient tap of heels against the floor and a critical eye awaited The Fisher King once his change in appearance had finally completed. To think that this was her perfect Servant. Laughable. But Lucienne could still feel his power, his potential. This war would be a true struggle, but it would be theirs to win. "Something of an improvement, at least. This get-together is to welcome the Ruler and to witness the start of the war, and thanks to you, mon agneau, I need to dress again."

[Suzerain of Sheol]

"Ruler... yes, I can feel her edict upon us even now. She has forbidden the Servants from joining battle until this summit reaches its conclusion." Pelles shrugged, the gesture almost imperceptible beneath his pauldrons. "A pity. I would have liked to test the temper of our competition." He looked about for where Lucienne had gone to dress herself, realizing that she likely could not hear him.

"With that in mind, have you given any thought to how we will proceed in approaching our enemies?"

[Salone]

Isaac, or "Darby" as he was going to go by for the time being, produced a second snack candy from a pocket and unwrapped it. He took small bites out of it as he spoke.

"The nail that sticks out gets hammered, mate. And if this war is going to be up to snuff there's a lot of nails with names sticking out and everyone involved is carrying a rather large hammer."

He took another bite from his candy. It was fattening, but that was fine. He needed the fat. He had been putting some of it away, but he would most likely need it by the night's end. If he survived the night's end.

"I fancy myself a daft old codger, and if all goes well they will too. I don't know about these other so called 'Masters', but I don't plan on cackling and pointless exposition and open fighting. That's a young man's game and frankly I don't have the grit for it. No."

He sat down at the edge of the bed, removing his shoes for a battered but serviceable pair of boots. They looked as if they had been everywhere. He continued to speak as he tied them up.

"Sod the other servants. I'm not worried about them. You shan't either unless they just really get in our way. But I think we shall be gunning for these silly 'Masters' instead.

He finished tying his boots, standing up and giving Atilla the classic shit-eating grin that all old men adopted from time to time.

"'sides, why fight the fangs and get bit when you can just cut the head from the snake, am I right?"

[Gallagher]

"Merde, my hair is ruined. Mousse!" The call from the washroom had the dog's head shoot up from its nest of blankets. "Start cleaning up that mess, and no eating it." There was a pause while Mousse untangled itself, hopped down onto the floor, and trotted back to the front room. Running water, the rustle of clothing. Flowery soaps and expensive perfume had no real hope of cutting through the stench her Servant had left.

"There's no rush for us to make our move," Luci eventually answered. "If the other participants can eliminate one another, all the better." And if her familiar went ahead and licked up a dark, congealed glob sliding its way down the wall, she was none the wiser. "You're more than enough to destroy the weaker of our enemies as you are now. There's only so many places in Avignon to hide. This soirée will be the perfect opportunity to see who we shouldn't waste our time with."

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Pelles heard her words, caring little for most of them.

"That being so, I must ask, then, mistress, if you chance to be in possession of a reality marble, should the need for it arise. I presume you are aware of my reason for asking."

[Espy]

Attila blinked, taking in the man's rapid chatter. Had he just been likened to a hammer? All in all, it was a good plan, but with one basic, massive flaw:

"And if all the other "Masters" think the same way? Surely you do not intend for me to stay with you every minute of the day, Dar-...Master."

[Salone]

"Why not? It's good country here. See the sights. Good dining I'm told. In the day time we can be tourists, and at night, give everyone else a good what-for and all that."

He clapped his hands together, the synapses in his brain misfiring and giving him a horrid, awful idea.

"You can even play the part. You can by my, er, wossname...manservant, even! Aye, aye, just an old fool and his manservant, taking in the scenery on holiday. We could even stop for an ice cream. Don't think they'd really be so bold as to attack us in broad daylight in the crowded streets, do you?"