۰ Ｔhe Ｓixth Ｈoly Ｇrail Ｗar Ｈas Ｂegun ۰
Isabel Acevedo & Berserker [ NPCs ]
Once Spain had been known for its mystic lineages, magi who worked with the most basic of natural elements: Though not all had been blood-workers, the most well-known - and often infamous - Spanish Magi had been masters of Blood Magic, capable of reshaping living organisms through sympathetic magic. However, the sinister reputation of what they called la Arte Rojo gained infamy beyond their native land, and eventually the most outrageous practitioners drew the ire of the Mage's Association. Censured by that prestigious and powerful organization, the masters of Blood Magic were ordered to cease their studies and were forbidden from teaching their ways to others. And so Spain lost its preeminence in the world of magic, save for the few who took up more traditional Western arts.
Isabel had heard this story countless times from childhood, listening at her grandmother's knee, watching her father conduct his own research into the forbidden magic. Most blood-mages had given up their craft, but the Acevedo secretly retained their knowledge; though in public they adopted the standard formulas of Association alchemy, in private they and others were bent on reviving their ancestral right. Growing up among them, Isabel could hardly be any different: Though her family was of noble blood and had retained some of their fortune after the outlawing of la Arte Rojo, they were considered 'below' the Western Houses and their proud soul rankled at such an injustice. The day her Command Seals manifested was a cause for great rejoicing.
In order to prevent suspicion in a land where blood magic had once been the norm, Isabel had traveled to Europe to gather her supplies: Like many former blood magi, Isabel's forte was not her raw power but her alchemical skills. She would be able to fuel her Servant to new heights of power if she fed it on the blood of others' rather than her own... but first that blood needed to be procured and processed. Only then would the Summoning Rite accept it as a fair price.
So for the last few weeks, she'd been really busy. Fortunately it seemed that men were just as stupid in Europe as they were at home, at least when a pretty girl was involved, and no-one cared that her blonde hair was obviously dyed when one looked at her dark eyes and caramel skin. Men were easier to ensnare than women anyway, which was why Isabel had been relieved to find that she'd only need one, whose blood would 'fool' the ritual into accepting the rest. This magic, of course, was just as legitimate as any other magical school, but because of the squeamishness of the Association Isabel was reduced to carrying out her errands in secret rather than gaining repute for her not inconsiderable skills.
In the end she'd had more than she'd needed, so her Summoning Ritual had gone smoothly. Isabel had no need for a catalyst: She didn't care which Heroic Spirit she got, and in the end it wouldn't matter. To compensate for her poor combat skills, Isabel had needed the strongest Servant possible... which was why she'd summoned Berserker.
"Aye, what a fuss about nothing!" she sighed, stretching her arms up over her head as she exhaled in boredom; the wind caught the long and curling locks of her dyed-gold hair as the sun finally disappeared over the city's skyline, leaving it in electric-lit darkness as she gazed down over the streets below. "I don't see why everyone makes such a big deal out of it anyway. Do you, Berserker?"
If someone had looked up at that moment, they would have seen the slender figure of a woman and no-one else; Isabel's Servant was in spirit form, storing the energy they'd need to acquire more energy later. Pyxis City wasn't more than a plane flight away, and Isabel wanted to have plenty of mana stored up before they touched down. Berserker wasn't yet at his full power, probably wouldn't be for a few more days, but she was sure they'd last until then. And once that happened, there would be few Servants who could even touch him!
He was, after all, a Heroic Spirit blessed with invulnerability save in one hard-to-hit spot, and there was little to distinguish him from any other Servant, clad in leather-and-steel armor and a crested helmet concealing his features. What little could be seen was handsome and swarthy, matching the muscular body, but his eyes were red points of light that seemed to gleam with unearthly bloodlust.
Of course, he didn't answer. Isabel didn't think he could speak, but she wasn't concerned about that: He didn't really need to, right? All her Servant had to do was follow her orders and win her the Grail.
Grasping the strange silver coat-of-arms that hung around her neck, Isabel thought ''Padre, madre, your daughter will force this world to recognize the power of our magic!'
"Berserker, come on," she said, turning from her view of the city. "We have to find you more things to eat."
Berserker, of course, said nothing. However, several more people would be dead by morning.
