Episode I: First Blood, a.k.a. Angry Birds

I suppose I may recount these events as I experience them.  Though these wars are secrets of the magi, there is no reason that the heroic deeds of the Heaven's Feel should go unremembered.  As I, King of the Geats, have found even from reading others' accounts of my own deeds: fate often leaves clues in the guise of history.  This account is by no means complete, nor have the events that it concerns yet fully reached their climax, I feel.  I pray that even if I am not the one to hold the grail, that I may at the very least be able to witness its use for a worthy purpose and hear the story sung in whatever passes for mead halls in this day and age.

When I first set eyes on my master, Isaac Morganstern, I was not sure if he was in awe of my presence, or he had just been struck sharply on the head.  As it turned out, he always looked like that.  His perpetual energy and good will reminded me of my own kin, Wiglaf, and his tireless dedication in the face of whatever odds.  I can only hope to do his memory proud in service to this young magus.  I had scarce been summoned when Isaac turned, bright-eyed, beckoning me to go, "'Splorin,'" this new area, Porto dei Stradoni, near the city of Venice in the lands far to the south of my ancient home.  Truly, much farther south than I had ever been.  It's quite warm here.

We left our house to take in the area, noting various buildings and roads, but overall taking a rather aimless approach to things.  Isaac seemed preoccupied with the local trees.  He talked at length about his family's holdings across the sea, specifically their fine vineyards.  He seemed frustrated (or at least slightly less phlegmatic than normal) at the lack of beehives in the area, saying that they were dying out and that he couldn't find enough of them anywhere anymore, and that one day soon he would muster them all to make his family's holdings the envy of the world.  Ambitious fellow.

The eventful part of our wanderings began when we reached a high school not long after the sun set.  The area was fairly wooded with short buildings sprawled out over a wide area.  Isaac began to giggle when he spotted a pair of youths (one boy, one girl) lying down in the middle of a green field of grass.  I would have smiled at the carefree youths as well had I not noticed the seven-foot tall swordsman riding toward them on a steed made of shadows.  Clearly, I was not the first servant to be summoned.

The rider noticed Isaac, and decided to switch his attack to my master.  I intercepted the attack by stopping the horse's charge and lifting it off the ground by its front legs.  The horse seemed suddenly lighter, and I noticed that at the same time that I stopped the horses' advance, a javelin had been lodged into the rider's chest and knocked him off his steed.  The rider, clad all in rags, was quickly on his feet before I could see who had thrown the javelin.  His rage was evident as he strode forward, right into a falling bird dropping.  He looked around in surprise and disgust, swatting at a flock of geese that had chosen this moment to begin harrying him.  Isaac wore an impish grin.

"You shall know fear!" he snarled through teeth like needles and a beard like steel wool as his sword's cruel edge made contact with my skin.  Seeing my own blood flow ignited my battle rage and I wasted no time.  I lept into the air, a full five meters upward, bringing the horse down upon the bearded servant's gnarled visage.  The shadow horse dissipated, revealing naught but a crater where the other servant had been.

A brief moment of respite allowed Isaac and me to take stock of our ally who had thrown the spear: a woman in ornate armor with light red hair.  Before we could make our introductions, she was flying toward my master, sword drawn.  Her unnatural speed alone was enough to mark her out as another servant.  She struck hard with her blade just behind Isaac.  Blood gushed from thin air, leaving the strong smell of alcohol, and the dark rider was visible once more.  "I will taste your suffering," he sneered, reeling in pain.

Apparently driven by some arcane purpose, Isaac used his magic to take the bleeding servant's ragged shirt.  Wounded and perhaps embarrassed, the rider focused his attention on Isaac, slashing at him with abandon.  Reflexively, Isaac used his magic to summon a nearby flock of geese to cushion the blow that was mean for him.  Feathers sprayed everywhere. The servant who had thrown the javelin (who I assumed was lancer) ran toward the shirtless servant, leapt over him, and threw her sword into his shoulder as she pulled her spear from his torso.  Upon landing, she quickly lanced a goose, and slammed it into the dark rider's face.  He crunched the goose menacingly.  Honks mixed with snarls as blood mixed with feathers.  It was a horrible sight that provided just enough distraction for Isaac to tackle the female youth and for the new magus to make his approach.  Three servants and two mages were on the field, it was on like Donkey Kong.

It was at this moment that Isaac noticed the two youths on the field had begun to flee.  It was also at this moment that the youths noticed another magus flying toward them.

Isaac attempted to corral the youths, "Hey, guys.  Y'all shouldn't run away from somethin' unless you know what it really is.  This one time, me and my buddy, Paul, summoned a greater abyssal alligator to deal with the infernal muskrat problem my grandpap had called into this plane while trying to fix the lawn mow-."

"What?!"  The dark rider's head quickly turned, his bloodthirsty eyes full of scorn.  "Let me have my fun!" he demanded of a presence nowhere to be seen.  "Oh very well," he pouted as he turned his horse around and began to ride off.  "I will feast upon your fear when next w-," *KA-KLUSH*.  The rider let his guard down to deliver his parting words, and I took his head off with a straight punch.  Blood, brains, and cranium showered the area (especially the youths) and we all looked on in horror.  The headless torso on the horse gasped rhythmically in what we only assume was a laugh based on its posture as it rode away, taking dark clouds with it.  Isaac and the newcomer magus both settled back on the ground.  None of us said something for a bit, but we were all thinking the same thing: that dark rider had taken blows that would fell a normal servant and merely shrugged them off.  Even the loss of his head was mere comedy and our combat nothing more than a sadistic game.  These thoughts were made words as a dark haired, dark skinned man in a turban flew on a pair of bat wings down from the top of one of the nearby buildings, saying that he had seen the whole thing.

"Ah, that guy...hoo.  He looked pretty nasty.  I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner to help you with him, but I don't look forward to running into him any more than I have to in this Grail War," the winged man mused while flipping through a book.

"Another servant?" I thought aloud.  "It seems that we are out in force tonight.  What brings you this way?"

"Well, seeing that we're all in this grail war together, more or less, and there are strong maniacs like that running around, and my master is a very busy person, my master has asked me to see if any of you would like to form a temporary alliance during the first part of the war."

"That sounds like an intelligent decision, I agreed. "We all need our allies, and at the very least the fewer enemies we have, the less we have to worry about the unexpected.  This way we can seek honorable, glorious combat without constantly having to look over our shoulders for other members of the war taking an opportunity to unexpectedly show up with superior numbers at a time when decisive action will lead to one winner and one loser."

"The word fer that is 'gankin'',"  Isaac informed me.  "Y'know, like this one time me and my buddy, Paul, found this fresh beehive full of fresh bees, but we only had one bee suit, so I took the hive over to our apiary, but then I found this other beehive on the way, and well, we got those two to where Paul was waitin' with our first apiary-full of beehives, and well, it turns out when you put a bunch of bees from different hives together, their fury is greater than the sum of their parts.  Also, they don't just attack each other.  In fact, they just attack you (at least if yer not wearin' a bee suit).  Oh maaaaaaan, Paul couldn't even breathe until we drained the swellings that were coming in on top of 'is swellings cause he's been stung so much."

Lancer and the magus with her were notably silent.

"Okay, okay, I can take a hint."

"Those two there," Lancer's magus said, coldly indicating the blood-soaked youths we had saved from certain doom, "need to be dealt with.  We all know the rules of the grail war.  How do we want to do it?"

I approached the youths like a hulking, armored, blood-soaked father, "Go home.  Drink lots of mead.  Hopefully you won't remember this in the morning."

"That won't due," the frigid magus said.  "We can't expect them to just go home and forget about everything. We must do something more controllable.  Is it your intention to harbor these teenagers and avoid the issue that you know will arrive, or do you intend to...deal with it?"

Isaac had something to say about this, but I can't for the life of me remember what it was, but it may have been mildly offensive to (demonic?) otters.  The long and short of it is that we got off topic and then I remembered my manners.

"But wait, where are my manners?" I said, silently chastising myself, "We are all combatants in this grail war together, are we not?" (the dark-skinned may or may not have said, "We are.")  "Where I come from, it is honorable to know the name of those with whom you do battle that you may honor their names to the gods if they prove worthy combatants and so that you may inform their next of kin.  You all helped save these fine youths," I indicated the teenagers, who stopped slinking away then, "and you gave that horseman a good fight.  I look forward to doing battle all of you.  I am Bodvar Bjarki, Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, king of the Geats.  You may also call me Berserker."

"And A'hm Isaac Morganstern..."

The others looked unsure.

"Yes, those Morgansterns..."

The others looked quizzical.

"I can see it in your eyes, that stunned look.  Clearly, you have not had much experience being in the presence of such nobility.  I understand, I was the same way when I first looked upon my grand-pappy," Isaac was utterly sanguine.  "You'll get used to it once we've been teamed up for a while."

The winged servant piped up, putting his pen away, and closing his book, "I think some of us aren't exactly comfortable with giving out our identities.  Customarily, in a grail war, the identity of a servant is one of his best-kept secrets, since it can give clues to his powers and weaknesses."

"Ah, come on, we're all friends here," Isaac retorted.

"Well, I suppose you did offer your name first," the winged servant visibly made a decision, "I am Jabir ibn Hayyan, an alchemist and Caster in this Grail War.  You've probably never heard of me."  Rather than walk all the way over to shake my hand, he elongated his arm some five meters and shook my hand, which I turned into a bear claw.  Being a servant is great our knowing gazes said in accord.

The other master allowed himself a small concession, "You can call me Ishmael.  This is Lancer."

"Well met, mage," said I, "But lady, who are you?  You clearly know your way around a spear.  It would be an honor to know your lineage."

Lancer was reticent.  "That's not going to happen," Ishmael chimed in.

I took the look of consternation off my face after one second, feeling mildly affronted.  "So be it."

"I hate to bring this up again, but we are going to have to do something about these two young ones," Caster said as unobtrusively as possible.

"There can't be any witnesses.  You all know the rules of the grail war.  Sorry Beowulf, but heavy drinking just won't cut it," Ishmael said quietly, but decisively.

Isaac was first to respond, "Agreed.  We could get a catfish and-,"

"BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAINS"