Around me, divine flame roars. Grand crucibles of molten metal fill the sky, an infinite collection of priceless materials waiting for a master's touch.
They twist in moebius bands around us, around the great forge where my servant stands.
The volcano that is his heart, that is his home.
With every swing of his hammer, sparks fly for leagues. Thunder races across the heavens. The earth trembles as he does his craft.
I do not know how long it takes - or if, in this realm of vulcanic fire, time passes at all.
But my servant keeps on working. Sweat drips from his bare back and his muscular arms - and with every blow of his hammer, I can feel something within me resonate with his act of creation.
At last, his work is done, the hiss of quenched metal heavy in the air. I am bathed in sweat from this odd sympathetic reaction to his forging as surely as from the heat even as he turns to approach me.
He is ugly, especially given his heritage, but he has never let it stop him. In fact, he has conquered it: Those who mocked him paid for it, those who wronged him he took revenge on. But never did he do them lasting harm.
As he comes closer me, his new work in his hands, I can see the other thing that marks him for who he is: He is a cripple, walking with a lamed leg. Shameful, for one such as him, but he took his vengeance.
Do you expect me to critizise him for what the legends say he did? Maybe I should. But I cannot. I am still shaking, and he can see it.
One hand - huge, broad, calloused, the hand of an eternal craftsman - clasps my shoulder as he lowers himself to one knee before me, to look into my eyes evenly.
"Boy. Upon your summoning I came forth. Upon the flame in your soul I have created. If we are to fight in this war, side by side, you will accept this gift."
He thrusts his work at me, and only now do I realize what it is. A shield. And what a shield it is! The magic that I am capable of tells me of its intricate make, the many layers of metals that mortal men of today have no hope of reproducing.
Except for me. I can feel the pattern burn itself into my mind, and with it, the name of the shield I hold.
The Aegis.
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Servant: Hephaistos, Grecian Artisan-God
Class: [Blacksmith] (fuck the canon classes. Only three of them are supposed to be static anyways) or [Caster]
Skills
Divinity: A+: He is a genuine god. The real deal. Son of Zeus and Hera, lamed when his mother cast him from Olympus for being ugly. Eventually, he got even through his artifice: a beautiful golden throne with invisible snares, gifted to Hera. Eventually, Dionysus had to get him drunk enough to haul him back to Olympus when nothing could free Hera.
Artifex: EX: The god of artificers created the symbolic items of the Greek gods, sentient automata, nigh-invincible armor and weapons and the bronze giant Talos. There is nothing in this world that Hephaistos Son of Zeus cannot create, for the fires of creativity are his birthright.
Noble Phantasms
Forge of Vulkan: In this timeless realm of craftsmanship, Hephaistos has unlimited access to any ingredient ever used on Earth, able to create what he needs and whatever the current situation demands. If hostile forces are present when the Forge of Vulkan is activated, the unlimited amounts of molten metal can serve as an effective deterrent.
Armoury of the Grecian Smith: Almost any signature item of the Grecian gods - from the Aegis of Athena to the Thunderbolts of Zeus to the Chariot of Helios - was crafted by the artisan-god of Olympus. Dozens of their greatest mortal heroes were similarly outfitted. Hephaistos is, at will, able to recall those works, even the great Bronze Giant, Talos, and gift them to either those of divine heritage or mortals that fight either for, or with him.
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Not quite finished, but the general concept is that he's a pure craftsman-servant, who puts the "War" back in Holy Grail WAR by, say, creating more of those automata he built. Gilded metallic death-machines for everyone!
His master would, I think, be Shirou, perhaps hailing from circumstances where his origin is either Fire (survived the Fuyuki Fire w/o Avalon) or The Forge (chalk it up to his parents being in the metalworking business, or something). So from one craftsman to another, they'd have a swell time.