"Ladies and gentlemen, my thanks for coming to this urgent meeting."

The room isn't listed on any map of London's infamous Clock Tower, and for a good reason - it's buried far below the earth, warded by spells uncountable beyond measure.  Originally intended as an emergency bunker during the Cold War, it was converted into a secure meeting place for members of the Mage's Association.  Only one door serves as entrance and exit, and no one is permitted to bring any weapons or Codes past its oaken frame.  Today, the room is filled with men and women of various nationalities - they have come from the four corners of the world, their studies and research interrupted by a simple message sent by the lone figure dressed in white: Wizard Marshal Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg.

"Over two hundred years ago, the greatest magi of the world gathered to perform a ritual that would enable us to journey to the Root of magic itself - the Holy Grail rite."  He pauses, and the silence in the room seems to grow heavier.  "It was our hope that the success of this rite would allow us to finally unveil the mysteries of the unseen world and allow magicians to achieve what was previously deemed impossible.  However, despite several attempts, the ritual has not provided us with the hoped-for results - in fact, its repetition has attracted the attention of an entity who has declared its intentions to us, hence this meeting today."

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Gaia's chosen messenger to us: Primate Murder."

***

The room explodes into a frenzy, but only for a moment, for a wild, chaotic presence presses against the minds of the gathered magi before coalescing into a white form in the center of the room.  With a sharp crack, the energy flares as a wolf-like creature emerges onto the platform, its blood-red eyes radiating palpable malice at all those present.  Fortunately, most of those were experienced veterans, capable of staring down the horrors that the universe would throw at them.  Still, it was a stark reminder that for all the power they held, something in the world could easily kill them without a second thought.

"Gaia sends her greetings, children of humanity."  It was not spoken, but communicated via thought, the mental sensation akin to being whipped by freezing winter winds. "In recent times, she has noticed your kinds temerity in violating her body, especially those among you who wield lightning and steal names of others.  One conflict in particular has drawn both her ire and her curiosity: this so-called Grail War."  The disdain in the last three words rolled off its mind with practiced ease as it glared at Zeltrech before continuing.

"While your attempts to kill each other and your fellows is very amusing, your theft of Gaia's energies to do so is nonetheless a crime that she has seen fit to withold punishment for.  After much consideration, she has come to a conclusion: in three score of your 'months', Gaia shall provide a new battleground for the next Grail War in a land of her choosing.  She shall continue to facilitate and tolerate the theft and abuse of her body in order for you and your ilk to continue - in exchange, however, she shall provide a champion of her own to join this tournament for her cause.  Should it win, Gaia shall use the prize of the war for whatever ends she desires."

Zeltrech held a hand up to forestall the protests as he asked, "And if we refuse?"

The creature stretched its muscles in a parody of a smile, bloodied teeth glinting in the soft light of the room.  "Then any future attempt to conduct this ritual - or any similar rite - shall be considered as an act of war, and Gaia shall respond accordingly."  It began to lick a gold-cuffed paw as it maintained its hungry gaze, as if daring the magi to do so.

One look across the room, however, was all it took.  "Then you may tell your mistress that we agree to the terms."

With a nod and a loud bark, the creature known as Primate Murder vanished from the room, the spot where he stood possessing an aching absence that one could not identify.  The Wizard Marshal simply looked at his fellows and made a mental shrug as the room exploded into furious debate.  It would be a very long night.