Joined: 6-September 13
The woman Assassin hid in the shadows, watching the ruined and quiet scene of the battle in which she herself had taken part not too long ago. Her Master, she learned, had been observing from high above the battlefield, and had gathered much of the same intelligence that she had. It had been thanks to his utterly mundane nature that he had gone undetected by both magus and Servant alike. Upon comparing with her knowledge, he had come to many of the same conclusions that she had, as well as potentially identified the combatant that she had only heard as Berserker. He had pointedly not spoken about the man who's corpse, which more resembled a piece of raw meat than a human being at this point, now rested in the remains of the harbor, but she could tell that he was not approving of her involvement of him or his fate. Since he had not brought it up, she had felt no need to defend her actions, but had she been forced she would have reasonably explained that she had not expected that the situation would devolve into combat so quickly. Her Master was an intelligent man, however, and had likely already come to a similar conclusion.
Whatever his opinion of her actions, they were not extreme enough to hinder his ability to work with his Servant. He had deduced that, as the message sent by Lancer and the subsequent combat had been, that the remaining two Servants which were unaccounted for may well arrive to inspect the area after the fact. With all the knight classes and Berserker accounted for, that left only Rider and Caster, two classes Assassin felt confident she could handle in close combat. With this in mind, Master and Servant quickly devised a plan. He would remain in the crane he had commandeered while she would plant a device that would lure any potential foe to the prime location for him to activate the mechanisms of the crane and catch them off guard. If this did not incapacitate the enemy (which Hawwah suspected and informed him was most likely the case), Hawwah would use it as a distraction to close the distance between herself and the enemy Servant and hopefully incapacitate them.
And so she waited in the shadows, gathering her strength for what would unfold. She was reasonably tired from having used her Noble Phantasm and being so roughly ejected from her vessel, and of course despite all the best efforts of her Master she was not quite up to top form, but she would doubtless be able to handle the less physically powerful Servants that may arrive to investigate. So long as she could reach them before they could activate a spell or Noble Phantasm of their own, that was.
While she was able to gather her strength in the time that she waited, she was not left waiting for long. Eventually a single figure appeared, which pleased the Servant Assassin. A large fight with several combatants such as what occurred before was survivable, but did not play to her strengths. She was much more comfortable with a single enemy, especially when she was the one who controlled how their confrontation would begin. This was her strength as an Assassin, and as a hunter.
As the man wandered about, not quite in the right position to begin arming the trap, she took the time to study him. Tall, dark skin, and white hair, the man was a distinctive figure that certainly would stand out among the masses of this modern day Japan. His red cloak blew gently in the slight breeze that seemed to be a constant presence in this place so close to the sea, revealing dark clothing underneath. Even if his unique attire did not announce it, his presence was doubtless that of a Servant, on that none but her could hide. He wore no obvious weapons, but from the lean muscles on his frame she would not assume that he was a Caster. That left Rider, then, which was a blessing and a curse. She would not have a plethora of spells to deal with, but Riders were known for their devastatingly powerful Noble Phantasms, which meant that she would need to strike quickly before he could bring his ultimate attack to bear.
The sound of her Master's device almost disrupted Hawwah's train of thought, but thankfully she was able to remain focused on the situation at hand with little more than an aside thought as to how she'd been expecting a simple noise rather than modern (and surprisingly catchy) music. She watched from her perch as the Servant turned towards the music and finally fell into place for the trap to be sprung. Hawwah tensed herself, ready for her part as soon as the plan was set in motion. When the crate came down she charged forward. Visual contact was momentarily lost as the wreckage of the metal crate came down, but she could still sense the Servants presence. He was likely unharmed, and even more likely to be preparing a counterattack against the source of the assault, namely her Master in the crane. She needed to move fast to ensure his safety and make the most use of the opening they had created.
It was perhaps her haste that made her opponent aware of her approach, as by the time she cleared the debris and closed the distance between them he had turned to face her. In his hand was now a weapon, a sword with an oddly designed handguard, and for a moment panicked worry filled the Assassin's mind. Had she made the wrong conclusions about her previous foes? Was this in fact Saber? She quickly shoved those concerns aside. She had seen what the silver knight had done, batting falling weapons from the sky with his own blade. Nothing but a Noble Phantasm could have accomplished that, and with the way he had wielded it there was no doubt that he had been Saber as he had claimed. When their weapons came into contact her fears were laid to rest. Their blades slid past eachother, and while it was painfully apparent that her own knife would not be well suited to direct blows with this sword, she was very quick to discover that this Servant's strength was nowhere near what should be expected from a Saber.
The two Servants parted, and Rider(?) spoke. His words were words of warning, but Hawwah saw no need to heed them. This was war, and right now if she did not press the offensive than there was a risk that her Master would be in danger. She could not allow that, not for the man who had placed himself into this war for her benefit. She bared her teeth in a way that could not possibly be mistaken for a smile.
'Prey does not often lecture the predator,' she thought as she charged. While she darted forward with speed that would make the wind weep in envy, the key aspects of her assault formed in her mind. Noble Phantasm or not, his sword could easily stand up to and even potentially damage her own weapon should they clash directly. The key, then, would be to avoid the blade entirely. She would let him make the first move, and watch for how his weapon traveled, using every ounce of her agility to remain out of its path. If possible, she would get close enough to strike at him with her knife; with her strength, she would have the distinct advantage once within a distance at which he could no longer reasonably wield his longer weapon at her. If no opportunity would present itself, however, she would pass him by, circling around in hopes that an opening from another angle would become apparent.