The Hallows had successfully driven back the pirate marauders after their failed ambush raid in the middle of the night. Nobody besides himself had sustained any serious injuries and all of his wolves were feeling triumphant and celebratory. Artorias couldn't have been prouder of each and every single one of them. But while the raid had left them jubilant and the pirates no doubt nursing some sore wounds, it also left the Aegis with another problem to deal with in the form of the charcoal, blue, and gold wolf currently locked up in a cell in the castle dungeons. He hadn't known what to do with their mandatory guest once he'd captured him and locked him up, and truthfully, he still wasn't certain his intentions were in the right. He wanted to send a message to Sparrow—that force against the sanctuary pack would be met with greater force—and in some ways, he felt like he had. In others, he felt like he'd accomplished nothing. Sparrow had not tried to parlay for the wolf, not tried to negotiate or trade for his release, not even put up a fuss during the fighting. She'd simply slunk off into the night with her motley crew, leaving the wolf (whose name he still didn't know) to his fate.

Artorias stood at the top of the stairs that led down into the castle dungeons, hesitating while he stared down them. His pack had called for justice to be dealt to the prisoner, but he had swiftly deigned it out of the question. Although a member of the pack, Artorias held no direct animosity for the pirate hostage. He looked to be swept up in Sparrow's mayhem as much as everyone else was, and had become a casualty of her recklessness and careless nature. No, he would not punish the wolf for the trespasses of another. Mercy always had a place within the Hallows. And so, the alpha descended the stairs, doing his best not to limp on his injured foreleg or favor the other, despite the aching pain from where the pirate had stabbed him. Artorias followed the curving stairs until he arrived in the lower level of the castle, standing before the rows of cells that made up the dungeon.

He approached the cell the pirate had been placed in, claws clicking against the stone floor as he walked to announce his presence. It had been two days since the attack on the Hallows, and since then, the pirate would undoubtedly have had plenty of time to sober up and come to realize the situation he was in. "Good morning," Artorias spoke through the cell's bars to his uninvited guest. He looked around the cell to the pile of furs atop a pallet that made a bed. He'd made sure his wolves were bringing the prisoner three meals and water, but whether or not they'd been consumed he didn't know. "Can I get you anything? Food, water, some extra furs?" He'd let the pirate respond before explaining the reason for his presence. "I was hoping we could chat. Have a heart to heart." The ball was in the pirate's court now. Would he be willing to play along, or would he shut down any attempts at diplomacy?

"Artorias Carpathius" | "Carpathian" | "Corbin" | "Argent"

One big happy family

Artorias has two ravens named Corbin and Eira and a fox named Argent. Assume they are within calling distance at all times.
As his mate, Briar may enter Artorias' threads unless marked Private.
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Artisan was not fairing well, and very soon after the capture the jovial and friendly wolf changed his tune entirely. Wolves came to bring him necessities and he aggressively ignored them - by the second day he'd taken to waiting adjacent to the bars and managing a small (dehydrated) stream of pee across the iron in the direction of the approaching wolf. What kind of stuck up jackass kidnapped other wolves? Artisan had not yet met a wolf in Boreas he could not befriend, though he'd very quickly realized that those of Auster were cut from a different cloth all together.

As Artorias approached, Artisan merely wrinkled his muzzle. In his hunger-strike he'd also refused to drink, meaning he could not keep up the act of peeing upon his captors very long at all. Artorias greeted him, asking if there was anything he could get for the pirate captive, and Artisan replied with sarcastic venom. "Oh, lets see.. you could let me fucking go home." The Auster King could be as cordial and friendly as he wanted - nothing he could say would erase the fact that he'd stolen Artisan from his home, his family, his pack. As much as he hated his brother for his role in Hyp's death, Art could not get the worry out of his head that without him to supervise, Hya would drink himself to death in his guilt. Perhaps he already had, and that was why he had not come to try and bargain for Artisan's freedom. "I have no interest in chatting with you, go find someone else to torture." He spat, turning from the bars and settling himself in the corner of the cell with his back towards Artorias.

"Speech"

Artorias had expected hostility from the captive pirate. Any wolf who had come to give him necessities had reported the wolf had responded by attempting to pee on them. At first it had been humorous to Art, the harmless act of defiance. But as it continued on to the third day, Artorias began to worry about the prisoner's condition. If he wasn't eating or drinking, it wouldn't be long before the wolf died of dehydration, and that wouldn't do any good for either of them. He had expected the vitriol in the retort, he had expected the haughty demand, and he'd expected the total shutdown that came from the pirate when he attempted diplomacy. If anything, it upset Art to see him in such a state. Clearly he hadn't been banking on any of this—just another show of Sparrow's careless blasé attitude toward her own pack's lives. No doubt the pirate was beginning to struggle with the realization that after three going on four days, nobody was coming back for him. How sad, Artorias thought, to learn that everything you believed in was a lie.

Despite the pirate making it clear as day that he didn't wish to speak, Artorias didn't move from his spot across the bars from his uninvited guest. He watched the pirate for a moment longer with something akin to pity in his heart, caught in a moral dilemma of what to do next. Rising to his paws, Artorias left the penitentiary for a few minutes, returning again with a piece of venison jerky and a skin of mead in his grasp. He set the meat into an empty metal dish, then popped the stopper from the skin and filled another dish with the semisweet liquid. He slid both beneath the small opening beneath the bars for the pirate, then sat with his back against the far wall as he took a deep swallow from the remaining mead. This would likely not be a fun conversation for either of them, but it was one that had to happen. How it went would determine how the wolves proceeded.

"You don't need me to tell you that no one's coming back for you." Artorias let the words hang heavy in the air between them for a beat. "My scouts watched your 'pack' leave after the attack, heading back to Boreas after a little campout in the ridge lands. Sparrow never stopped to discuss your release or negotiate terms. She left you behind." Artorias swirled the drink in the skin with his paw, listening to it slosh about while he waited to see if the pirate would give any sort of response or acknowledgement. The least he hoped for was that maybe the mead would tempt him to drink something so he didn't die. "I can't just let you go. I'm sorry, but that's not happening. You and your pack attacked my home, a place of shelter and healing, after we welcomed your leader in. Be pissed at me all you want, but Sparrow ignited the spark that blew up in your face. Then she led you into a doomed raid, then turned tail and left you." Artorias rolled his shoulders in a shrug and took another swig from the skin of mead. "Sounds like she really cares about you lot..."

Artorias drank the last of the mead in one long draw, setting the now empty skin aside while he watched the pirate. "You and your pack attacked a sanctuary pack, a place open to all who need help. That's what you did. You attacked a hospital. Did Sparrow tell you that before she led you down here? That we help save lives? That we're a place wolves came to for healing during the Long Night? That we kept everyone who came to our doors alive when the sickness spread?" His money was on Sparrow not telling her own followers anything, but he could be wrong. The pirate didn't strike him as the malevolent type though, given how he didn't look like he wanted to be at the raid in the first place. "My pack wants me to hold you accountable for the raid, to bring justice to you for your pack's actions. I'm not going to do that, because I don't believe you even wanted to be a part of this mess. I think you got caught up in it all following Sparrow blindly. Am I getting warmer?" Gold-flecked amber eyes shifted from the wolf down to the food and drink he'd pushed through the bars. "Will you please at least drink something? I'd rather you keep trying to piss on my wolves if it means you're drinking."

"Artorias Carpathius" | "Carpathian" | "Corbin" | "Argent"

One big happy family

Artorias has two ravens named Corbin and Eira and a fox named Argent. Assume they are within calling distance at all times.
As his mate, Briar may enter Artorias' threads unless marked Private.
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While Artisan had made himself very clear that no, he would not be having this conversation, the blue and black King continued. Art kept his head high as he stared at the corner of the wall, ears pulled back tight against his skull as if he could keep out the droning speech being forced upon him. It was all bullshit and lies, and if Artorias truly believed that Artisan would be willing to turn coat and throw his Pirate King under the bus, well, he was wrong. Whether the Auster king heard it or not, Artisan did hear the promise from Pyralis that they'd come for him. Sparrow was no idiot - she'd collect him when the time was right.

He heard the swish of the alcohol, the scratching of the tray against the hard floor. His muzzle wrinkled further, but he did not turn his head to acknowledge the offered food or drink. Artorias explained the wants of his people and Artisan let out a bark of laughter. "Sounds very healer-y, calling for the death of every wolf who wrongs you, but fine. If your pack wishes to have me killed for my part in the raid then get it over with. You will not corrupt my loyalty to my King." He insisted to the wall. "You are wrong. I wanted to be there. I did not follow my King blindly into battle, I went willingly and I would do it again." What was wrong with this wolf? It wasn't as if they broke through the castle walls, raping and maiming and thieving from any wolf they saw. Their raid was a casual fight, with strict instructions from their King to not go wild and cause unnecessary hurt. No wolf was maimed, no wolf was captured, no innocent patient harassed. Should the pirates have won they still had not intended on harming anyone - after all, Sparrow had offered to not fight at all, should the Hallows accept them in for a night in the castle. "Kill me, or leave me here to die. Either way, you will be igniting the spark, because my brothers and sisters will come for me sooner or later, and if I am dead when they arrive, they will burn this castle to the ground - hospital or not."

"Speech"

Now it was Artorias who rolled his eyes at the tough guy attitude the pirate in protest put on, still refusing to eat or drink or even face him. Was the wolf really this stupid or was he just trying to be aggravating at this point? Was there even a difference? "Nobody has called for your death. You can calm your theatrics, princess. Like I said, we're a sanctuary pack. That includes healers and fighters as your dumbass pack very quickly found out. And fighters tend to not be too pleased by intruders trying to break down our doors in the middle of the night unannounced and uninvited." Regardless of how Artisan saw the pirates' actions, they were actions of violence and instigation. The Hallows was open to all upon the promise of peace. Had Sparrow approached with her lot and asked for shelter for the night, they'd have found it along with food and wine. Instead, they'd assumed to take it after attacking his wolves. They were the aggressors, and he even admitted as such by claiming he went willingly "into battle" and would do so again.

Artorias snorted in ridicule and bewilderment. "Gods, are you really that much of a fucking idiot or are you just that stubborn? Look at yourself. You are sitting alone in a cell, miles away from home, starving yourself to death. How did you end up in there? You 'willingly followed your King into battle' and look what it got you. She abandoned you, and the only one who said a thing was that crazy old bitch who probably has fewer days left in this world than you do right now as she turned tail and limped off as well. That's who you're pinning your hopes on? What were you all even expecting attacking us? Were you all that deluded and insane to think you stood a chance at all and that there'd be no repercussions? That we'd just laugh off an attack on our home in the dead of night and let you go on your way? Are you that delusional?"

Now it was Artorias who gave a hard laugh at Artisan's empty threats, rolling his eyes once more. "Riiiight... The pack that couldn't get past the front gate without getting their asses handed to them is going to burn the castle down. And that, what you just said, is exactly why I'm not letting you go. Burn down a hospital because you couldn't invade it the first time? I wanted to believe that you weren't that type of wolf, but if you mean what you say, then you're violent, unpredictable, a menace to this world. I sincerely hope that one of your loved ones' lives is never threatened by an illness or injury. I hope you never have to sit by and watch them die without aid because you made a piss poor decision to attack the only pack in Boreas or Auster that could help you." Artorias stood up, glancing between the stairs and Artisan's back once more. "I've already sent word to the other packs we're allied with. You and your 'brothers and sisters' are about to make a lot of enemies and life is about to get much harder for anyone who calls themselves a pirate. If you want to die for a wolf who abandons her own, maybe I'll give you to my godfather up in the Armada. I've heard he's got quite the bone to pick with you pirates, and he tends to be less merciful than I am."

"Artorias Carpathius" | "Carpathian" | "Corbin" | "Argent"

One big happy family

Artorias has two ravens named Corbin and Eira and a fox named Argent. Assume they are within calling distance at all times.
As his mate, Briar may enter Artorias' threads unless marked Private.
____________________

The black and blue wolf really knew how to talk. Artisan lifted his rear leg and scratched at his ear as the man spoke, on and on and on. "Look, buddy, you can call yourself a sanctuary pack all you want, but it's clear to me and must be to your pack as well that you are merely a wolf too young, too unlearned for your throne. You take things too personally, you don't know how to have fun, and you kidnapped a man who very clearly did not mean you nor your pack any true harm." Had Artorias simply allowed Artisan to leave, his pack would have been safer in the long run. He could have gathered his allies against Sparrow and shown the Pirate King that the Hallows was not a pack to be targeted recklessly. Sparrow would have likely laughed off the threat, but her eyes would have turned to another pack for the next raid and the Hallows would quickly become a distant memory. Now? Artisan could not anticipate how Sparrow would react to his capture, but he could only assume she would not be pleased. The Pirates had allies too, and the Hallows' sin of kidnapping was much greater then a mere friendly raid had been.  

Artisan stood then, turning to face the bars and the young Aegis who stood on the other side. It was not often he took a stab at being anything that wasn't fun-loving and often drunk, but within this cell, starving and bored and much too sober, Artisan could not find that joy. "You claim to be a wolf who provides sanctuary to others, and then you do the absolute worst thing you could do for your pack in retaliation. If you really cared for the safety of the wolves you lead and care for, you would have thought with your head and not your power hungry dick. Those 'repercussions' would have hit my pack a hell of a lot harder had you not overreacted and kidnapped someone." Artisan shook his head and scoffed, reaching over with his paw and slapping the tray back beneath the bars. "Congratulations, you have allies, but we do too. And while I guarantee any allies we share - while they may be disgruntled at Sparrow's choice of raid target - will be just as upset with your escalation. "

Artorias' threats were becoming boring and Artisan rolled his eyes skyward as the last one landed. "Stop with the threats and get to the punishment, boy King, I tire of your attempts at intimidation. I get it if you're too young to know any better, but raids fucking happen in our world. You get over it. It's not personal, it's survival. Go ahead and send me to your Armada daddy. Neither of you can stare down a group of raiders without getting your panties in a knot, it seems."

"Speech"

Artorias stared with cold, hardened eyes at the multi-hued wolf within the cell while he continued to feign innocence and jest in the pirates' attack. Finally, something he said must have gotten beneath the pirate's skin, because Artisan rose and came to the bars, standing to face Artorias for the first time since he'd come to see him. The Aegis took the brunt of the wolf's attempts to threaten and intimidate him in turn, letting them roll off his back as if the pirate had been making fun of the way his fur was styled and not outright threatening the safety of his pack. He didn't give Artisan the satisfaction of a reaction, simply letting the captive simmer over until his rambling had come to an end. Artorias rose to his paws then and came up to the bars, only a couple feet of space and several thick bars of cold-rolled steel separating them. It would have been easy to do as the pirate demanded; to give in to anger and vengeance and punish the wolf as he saw fit. If he wanted, Artisan could have been executed and his body disposed of before anyone came looking for him. He'd simply vanish, never to be seen again.

But that wasn't what Artorias wanted. He hadn't wanted to punish the wolf he'd claimed during the raid. He'd held out hope that perhaps this wolf would show him that the pirates hadn't had violent or malicious intent—that they were all fun and games like he kept claiming over and over. Instead, all Artisan had shown him was that he was a liar. Artorias didn't take kindly to anyone who threatened his home or his family; that was why he'd captured a pirate in the first place. Sparrow only responded to shows of strength, and so he had answered in a language she understood. The pirate before him only further proved his assumption of the rabble the more he spoke, and though it hurt him to know he'd been right, it validated his decision to drive away the pirates with an overwhelming display of force. They were not jovial hooligans looking for a good time. They were a dangerous, untrustworthy, violent bunch that needed to be treated like rabid dogs.

"There is nothing fun about waking up in the middle of the night to find a group of armed invaders at your door," Artorias snapped back, blunt and direct. "I'm young, but I've seen more raids and battle in my time than you, I'm sure. And yes, I take direct attacks and invasions on my home and my family very personally. What you and the other curs did was not fun, it was aggression. Paint it however you want in your mind, you were in the wrong. You're right, raids fucking happen. And you lost. This is what you get for fucking with a pack and losing. 'It's not personal, it's survival.' Do you think the Armada, or the Empire, or any other pack would respond well to a sneak attack in the dead of night?" He spat the pirate's own words back in his face, weaponizing them against his captive. Without tearing his gaze back from Artisan's, Artorias slapped the tray of food back beneath the bars. He was not playing games. "You have no allies. Nobody is going to back a rabid dog trying to fight the world, and the sooner you realize that, the sooner you can start making good decisions for your life."

Artorias stepped back from the bars once more, looking over the pitiful wolf with an expression of genuine sympathy. "I had hoped that maybe there'd be some redeeming quality to you, some good that might make me think I'd made a mistake. But all you've shown me is that you're no better than the rest of them, and the world would be better off without your ilk in it. Despite what I think, I can't imagine being so alone and lost in this world that suicide would seem like the best option. I truly am sorry for you, wolf." The Aegis turned back for the stairs then, casting a parting glance over his shoulder to the tray of food. "Eat your meal, pirate. You're no good to your 'family' dead." Artorias set back up the stairs then. Though his meeting with Artisan had been much less fruitful than he'd been hoping, he would not punish nor harm the wolf. Meals would still be provided, and gods willing, he wouldn't kill himself to spite the world.

- exit Artorias -

"Artorias Carpathius" | "Carpathian" | "Corbin" | "Argent"

One big happy family

Artorias has two ravens named Corbin and Eira and a fox named Argent. Assume they are within calling distance at all times.
As his mate, Briar may enter Artorias' threads unless marked Private.
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