The ageing Warlord felt an itch in his toes. It had been many years since he had spent any amount of time exploring, and decided to indulge the wanderlust growing inside of him. He left the pack in the capable paws of Hazel and Isa and made his way over to the battlefield. The barren land had always been familiar to him, but he noted changes in the landscape. The way the world moved on when he wasn't paying attention to it. It always caught him by surprise, especially when his memories and life had been abnormally long. How much time did Sirius have left? Perhaps not much. But he wouldn't go out without a fight.

A smile growing on his maw, he stretched out his paws and fell into a ground eating lope. Ending it at the centre of the bloodstained land. Here, he lifted his muzzle and sent out a call. Challenging any that might be in hearing of his howl.

Absinth was taking the time to explore. Sure, she could have headed back to the Sound and all it’s fun little diversions- but the true fun was blood and sweat; wasn’t it? She hadn’t known what exactly she was looking for, but when a call rang out she accepted it readily with a bolt in the right direction.

Simple thing to do, really. Follow a summons into danger- what could go wrong?

Upon her approach the monochromatic fae caught sight of quite the wonder of an older man. Huge, with Sabre fangs just like those of Sephiran. But there was something different here. Some sense of… domination. No, the woman was not scared. She had brought herself here after all, and still she approached the man with youthful confidence. Now, was that such a crime? “I’d like to take you up on your offer, got a name? Mines Absinth.” Of course, it wouldn’t do for her to stir up trouble for the Saxe cult- but backing out of this wasn’t an option either. She could feel an electric current almost running down her spine. Egging her on as emeralds roamed the massive body of her soon to be opponent. This was probably going to hurt, which was its own sort of fun.

wormwood

(edit to change timeline detail oop.)

The Warlord’s call was answered by a smaller wolf. The majority of her coat was white, with trimmings of black. Not a wolf that he had ever seen before. But then, there were so many young strangers running across these lands now. His time was almost over - this world belonged to the younger generation. “Greetings Absinth, I’m Sirius Fatalis.” He returned her introduction.

His expression unfolding into a grin, an acknowledgment of the younger wolf's acceptance of his offer. She was small, and he didn’t want to know how many years younger. But the Warlord was a well practised fighter, and he realised this spar with a stranger.

He took the first move, closing the distance between them. He moved in an attempt to slam his right shoulder into her much smaller right shoulder

Sirius vs Absinth for Spar
Round 1/?
Age: Over 1
Size: Dire wolf
Build: Medium
Offensive Battle Accessory: Front leg bracers with knife
Defensive Battle Accessory: Back leg bracers
Companion 1: Black Vulture, Male - Battle - Boosted
Companion 2: Snow Leopard, Female - Battle - Boosted
*Companion 3: Spectacled bear, Female - Battle
Mutation 1: Cat claws - Offensive
Mutation 2: Fangs - Offensive
Mutation 3: Thicker fur - Defensive
Skills: Master Fighter & Master Hunter
Specialty: Bloodletter


"Sirius Fatalis"

As the older man introduced himself, Absinth looked over the striping along his body. Of course, not only that. The huge fangs, the brightly colored eyes that were sizing her up - knowing that his own size alone would be quite the feat even during a spar; which was nothing compared to the experience he exuded. Absinth couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of being bested here, her own experience growing all the same. It didn’t matter if she got a rush out of it anyways.

The man’s name came easily in return of her own. Sirius Fatalis. Ah. She felt prickles run up her spine, recalling Aresenn naming this man as the Warlord of Armada. Best behavior then… Sephiran was already at odds with this man due to his own behavior towards Andromeda; she did not desire to stir the pot further given her standing. She was sure Aresenn would find this little situation amusing - Absinth herself did in the very moment.

“Pleasure.” The young woman snapped with spirit as he struck first. His massive shoulder coming to slam into her own, it was powerful and threw her off balance; but she did try to lean away from it to offer some sort of absorption. Digging her nails into the ground so she would not fully topple over, Absinth tried to counter with a headbutt aimed at the man’s snout.


Absinth vs Sirius for Spar
Round 1/?
Age: Over 1
Size: Large
Build: Medium
Skills: Advanced Fighter & Expert Intellectual

wormwood

He picked up what little speed he could as the titanic brute closed the distance between them. Thundering across the barren earth with a few beats of his heavy paws. His first strike hit as he slammed his shoulder into hers, bringing them into close quarters. He felt her move beneath his onslaught. Likely trying to absorb some of the shock of his impact.

Her head whipped around, aiming for his snout, and he peeled his gums back over his fangs, displaying his elongated teeth as he attempted to put them between her attack. At the same time, he moved in an attempt to hook his right paw behind her own. Twisting his ankle as he did so to pop out the hidden knife in the sheath that wrapped around his forepaw.


Sirius vs Absinth for Spar
Round 2/2
Age: Over 1
Size: Dire wolf
Build: Medium
Offensive Battle Accessory: Front leg bracers with knife
Defensive Battle Accessory: Back leg bracers
Companion 1: Black Vulture, Male - Battle - Boosted
Companion 2: Snow Leopard, Female - Battle - Boosted
*Companion 3: Spectacled bear, Female - Battle
Mutation 1: Cat claws - Offensive
Mutation 2: Fangs - Offensive
Mutation 3: Thicker fur - Defensive
Skills: Master Fighter & Master Hunter
Specialty: Bloodletter


"Sirius Fatalis"

Absinth’s attack took a different approach as she saw the path her headbutt was taking would impact with the brute’s massive fangs; so she did the next best thing in her own opinion. She ducked her head low and shot her jaws out to try and catch him by the scruff of his throat. It wasn’t to draw blood, she was careful about that fact - no she was seeking to display speed and agility over strength. She did register the hook of his paw around her right limb, but she was far too focused on her goal to pay it any mind. What? Win or lose, it didn’t matter. The monochromatic woman just wanted to prove the odds could be evened.

Absinth vs Sirius for Spar
Round 2/2
Age: Over 1
Size: Large
Build: Medium
Skills: Advanced Fighter & Expert Intellectual

wormwood

And the winner is...

Sirius

Absinth must give up by submitting, fleeing or passing out. Totals: Sirius: Attack Roll: 21 Defense Roll: 84 Agility Roll: 70 Perception Roll: 37 Total: 212 Attack[21] + 115% Bonus[24.15]: 45.15 Defense[84] + 20% Bonus[16.80]: 100.80 Agility[70] + 0% Bonus[0.00]: 70.00 Perception[37] + 0% Bonus[0.00]: 37.00 Total[252.95] + 40% Bonus[101.18]: 354.13 Absinth: Attack Roll: 11 Defense Roll: 48 Agility Roll: 38 Perception Roll: 33 Total: 130 Attack[11] + 5% Bonus[0.55]: 11.55 Defense[48] + 5% Bonus[2.40]: 50.40 Agility[38] + 0% Bonus[0.00]: 38.00 Perception[33] + 20% Bonus[6.60]: 39.60 Total[139.55] + 15% Bonus[20.93]: 160.48

As he hooked his blade around the back of her leg, he pulled the limb out from under her. Doing so threw off her attack against his neck, and in that short moment where her balance was compromised he grabbed her by the scruff of the neck. He held her for a moment, the clear victor, before releasing his grip on her. He took a step back and studied her critically for a moment. He had drawn blood behind her knee, but the amount was small enough not to worry him.

He reached under his ankle sheath and pulled out a small cloth. “Would you like me to wrap that for you?” he offered, indicating with a short nod of his head to her knee.


"Sirius Fatalis"

Just as Absinth thought she was about to make purchase on the older man’s neck, she was pulled away with a sharp string at the back of her leg and immediately caught by teeth. The monochrome fae had been quite literally uprooted from her stance. Fucking hell. Her scruff was claimed, moments that all but screamed the obvious winner here, and she was released easily by the much larger man. Her brows furrowed above intense emerald orbs as she stumbled back and regained her balance. Lifting her leg to see the small damage done, Absinth craned her neck back to the sabertoothed male - her lips trembling as she fought to contain her expression. Bewilderment crossing her features as she watched him pull a cloth free, surprised by his offer to wrap her wound.

Hah? She stared quizzically at the brute, tilting her head to the side as she answered with scrutiny. “Yes?” This was… a first. She had never had an opponent offer to… remedy the inflicted damage upon her flesh. Absinth attempted to take it in stride, shooting Sirius with as best she could muster of an appreciative nod of her charcoal skull. She would settle back onto her haunches, taking a sitting position to make it easier for him; raising her injured limb slightly. “Any notes for me? I know I lack defense. I'm self taught for the most part.” The young woman stated, peering up at the Warlord as she contemplated all her moves and mistakes throughout the short exchange of blows.

wormwood

The Warlord gave a sort of thoughtful grunt at her question, not replying immediately as he crouched down before her. He was not a healer, and if her wound had needed stitches or salves, she would have been on her own. But he was no stranger to blood, and the small prick of the clean knife was an easy thing to deal with. He bound it tightly, tying the knot with the help of his teeth. “Take it off in a few hours, and the bleeding should have clotted” he told her, leaning back to give them both some amount of space.

“Your fighting style shows promise, and you're flexible with your attacks - not afraid to change targets if your attacks are foiled. I would advise you to go for multiple attacks at once. It’s habitual for a wolf to think only of their teeth, but that’s not all you have available to you. Compromise your opponents balance, or distract them. Go for behind the knee, it's a vulnerable point, or the spaces between your opponents toes.” He advised her after a few moments thought. “If you have a mind to kit yourself out for fighting, there is a marketplace in my pack which is just beyond this territory. If you have anything to trade, we could make you armour or weapons to order.”


"Sirius Fatalis"

Absinth waited patiently as the man set to work on her limb, wrapping the cloth he had produced tightly around the cut. She took the time to study his face, memorizing it and the overall battle-worn appearance of his aging body. Still a force to be reckoned with, most definitely. Nothing like the near perfect and pristine form of her father. But then again, his forte was the psychological sort of warfare after all. She hoped she would be a mix of both, if she lived that long.

As Sirius finished up the first aid, he would put some space between them and advise her on when to remove the binding. Easy enough. It wasn’t like she knew of any healers in the first place. But rather than ridicule her, the brute offered real advice. Absinth met his gaze with focus, calculating all of his words and beginning to cobble together a new style for battle. Multiple attacks. Balance. Toes. Thus far the woman had operated off of instinct, with the only real help she’d ever gotten being from her elder sister; about going for the throat or the genitals… so helpful right? Toes was new to her, and she could only imagine if the dire man had cut her there… how excruciating that would have been. She’d have to try that out on someone, to test it.

Aresenn had mentioned the marketplace of the Armada, but Absinth hadn’t heard the specifics of the dealings there. So it was a tried and true trading system, what might it look like… Her curiosity was at its peak as he brought up weapons and armor. She glanced at his bracers, at the knife holster there and could easily see how that would benefit her… but she had nothing to trade; and what if he discovered she was affiliated with Sephiran? Bringing her emerald orbs back to his blue ones she would respond in earnest. “I only have what I can hunt down to offer for trade.” She’d have to tread carefully here, thankful for the week-long scouting she’d been doing that had left her pelt with only her own sage scent.
wormwood

The Warlord considered her in silence for a moment. Taking his time to think over what she could offer in trade, and how much out of his way he might wish to go for this stranger. In the past, he would have dismissed her as a wolf who had nothing to offer him. But perhaps… perhaps a part of him recognised something in her. As a wolf who had come from an Empire, had known wolves capable of true evil, and left it all behind to forge something new for himself.

After a few moments, his eyes flickered over her, before inclining his head towards her. “If you’d consider it, I can suggest something else you could trade.” Before her mind could consider all the ways that could go wrong, he went on to add. “It would likely be mutually beneficial. I have a grandson who’s honing his skills in battle. He knows the forms but has little worldly experience. Trade some knowledge with him, do a couple of spars, and I will trade you a piece of armour and a weapon.” He suggested. She was getting the better end of the deal. But perhaps he could entice her to stay, and he would gain himself another warrior.

"Sirius Fatalis"

Absinth considered for a moment the gravity of his suggestion. Of meeting a grandson who was in need of knowledge and experience in battle… and she would be rewarded with a piece of armor and a weapon if she fulfilled the older man’s request. It was indeed enticing. It was an amazing deal as far as she knew… but why? Why was this trade being offered to her so easily? With such a skewed balance in value? She raised a quizzical brow as she processed his words, trying to figure out any ulterior motives… Trying to read the man’s hardened features with her perceptive emerald orbs.

But the quickest way to get to the truth was to ask directly, and the monochromatic girl  would do just that. She was rather straight-forward that way. “I… do have experience in battle, But my tactics… were first learned in the gutters as a street rat. Would the Warlord's grandson truly benefit from this deal? I am no decorated Knight. Hell, I only know how to fight until my last tooth and claw – not exactly noble, you see.” Absinth spoke carefully, eyes gauging the man’s expression as she divulged her beginnings with him– part of her hoping it would tug at the aged warrior’s heart strings to some extent. She had pulled herself up from the very bottom of society, clawed and crawled her way- to be exact. It had taken an indomitable force of will, but she was here and carving herself a new life. A life all her own, despite the darker turn it had taken. But really, wasn’t it always going to be an abyss of morality? Her very blood assured her of it.


wormwood

The Warlord's lips brushed up into a small smile. “My reputation precedes me” He said. He had not given her his title, but it came as no surprise to him when she used it. He led one of the largest and oldest packs in the lands, after all. It was more interesting to him that she had shown no recognition when he had first given her his name, until her slip just now. “Survival is our greatest teacher. My Grandson has his pick of tutors, but he’s a product of his upbringing - sheltered. You would be bringing something new to the table, and I value that.” He explained, not yet showing his hand. It would not do to scare her away and admit that he hoped to entice her to his pack.

He also wasn’t entirely surprised to hear of her own upbringing, but he found himself intrigued by it. She certainly wouldn't have been a rat on the Empire's streets. His home had fallen long before she was born. He raised a paw, gesturing forward. “A few days teachings for kitting you out. We’d need the time to craft them to order regardless. Take it or leave it” He prompted her.


"Sirius Fatalis"

Fuck. She’d accidentally let her knowledge of his societal standing be known. It hadn’t even been intentional, it was just what Aresenn had mainly called the older man by… but it seemed to have earned her points. Stroke of luck. Absinth did not allow her slip up any shock value, keeping her face the same open, neutral expression it had been so far. It wouldn’t do to keep making mistakes though, and she would be mindful of letting too many extra words fall from her lips from now on.

Sirius was welcoming of her past, calling it valuable. This grandson of his was a sheltered boy, tutored and privileged-- or at least that was what she was gleaning from the Warlords explanation. So. He hoped to correct the boy. Was he soft? Was he spoiled? She could only make guesses at this point, offering the blue-eyed man a nod of understanding in exchange. “Yes, I agree. To be tempered in fire, is to grow stronger. So even if we suffer, we survive even still.” Absinth answered with certainty, her emeralds blazing in controlled determination. It was no falsehood, no manipulation in those words. At her core she was a creature of trial and tribulation, never to be stripped of her spirit.

So when the Warlord gestured her onward, Absinth had no need to deliberate within herself any longer. It was an easy choice to make. “Of course, I’ll take it.” She grinned, stretching out her wrapped limb to check for mobility and finding it perfectly fine – at least in her book.

wormwood

Yes, the Warlord and her understood the world in a way that the youngest children at his paws did not. The older generations he had raised could not say the same, they had suffered losses he would have spared them from. But those like Wylan, their innocence made them vulnerable. Perhaps a little exposure would do him some good. Indeed.” He said in soft agreement.

She gave her agreement, and the Warlord led her on. His pack was not far from the battlefield, so it was an easy thing to lead her off the blood stained soil, and into the lands of the mountains. He took her to the market, which was a more well-travelled path that kept them from the ocean and the forest. “Feel free to take a look around, and get an idea of what you like. Once you’ve made up your mind, I’ll call my grandson and begin the work on your pieces.” He explained to her as they stepped into the shadows of the large cavern that housed the market.


"Sirius Fatalis"

Absinth was led across the battlefield at the side of the Warlord, their trek leading them to up into the mountain range that the Armadan wolves called home. The market place was teeming with life, and as the man led her into the cavern he urged her to explore for an idea of what she wanted her order to look like before his grandson made an appearance. Okay. Let’s see here…

The monochromatic fae stepped about the market, eyes flitting to and fro, seeking the weaponry and armor that caught her eye the best… and she did come away with some ideas. A dagger here, a set or two of armor that she wouldn’t mind with some slight alterations… it was all so tantalizing.

But she was here for a different purpose, and now that she had a decent idea of what she would like her reward to look like… Absinth returned to Sirius, an excited grin on her face. “It’s so– nice.” From anything she’s known, certainly. There were no dead bodies in the streets, first of all. No children begging, no women beckoning men away– it also lacked the scent of urine and alcohol. Though, she had seen a spirit’s trader among the sellers. That could be an interesting trade in the future….
wormwood

The Warlord gave her the space and time to study the market. Making his way to the edges of it, he summoned Marshal and set the bird back off into the pack after a moment. Fetching his Grandson. He had chosen Wylan as one of the most charismatic and curious of Mort’s litter, and because the boy was the oldest. He couldn’t help himself, but to wonder if Wylan wouldn’t one day be an heir to this pack.

After a short while, Absinth returned to him. Her expression delighted, and the Warlord raised a brow at her, a small smile on his own lips. Something about her reminded him of the strays he occasionally adopted. Of his first adopted daughter, who had gone missing long ago. He wanted to keep her.

“You’ve made your selection?” He asked her, grabbing some blank hies and charcoal from one of the tables and settling down. Ready to make some drafts of her designs.

"Sirius Fatalis"

Absinth, for all her flaws, was still but two years old. Callous as she was, it was easy to fall into the neutral temperament she was now, excited by the possibilities. It had been.. a year since she had seen anything that even resembled a market. And back then, she had been a pup running through trying to steal food and avoid the traffickers. Not exactly a time to be in awe of structure and society.

Upon her return to Sirius she was surprised to see the aged Warlord smile slightly at her, her mind working to figure out what exactly she’d done to amuse him. Was it something she could do again? If it was beneficial… why not? She watched as he set himself up to hear her ideas, and she seated herself with a nod of her skull. “I liked one that had the chest and shoulder covered, but it looked easy to move in. And…” Absinth shot an envious look at his own bracers, flitting her emerald orbs back to him with a grin. “Some of those, with a knife on either side.” Was that simple enough? Was that a good enough description? It wasn’t like she was super concerned about the look of it all— only that it was a functional set.

wormwood

The ageing Warlord made a few quick sketches with the charcoal as she spoke. Pausing only to see where her eyes were leading, before smirking. It was easy to sketch up some bracers, he'd been making them for years. “The straps will be adjustable. If you don't like the excess material, you can cut it off once you've found the comfortable size for yourself. I'll need some measurements of your chest and shoulder… and if you want it dyed, that'll add a few days to the work” he warned her.


He grabbed a rope with notches on it, and called over a helper. Wylans small polar bear was proving useful with dexterous paws, and the little white creature trotted up to help manipulate the rope around the wolf, while the Warlord made marks. “Alright, any last minute changes to these sketches?” He asked her once he'd finished adding his measurements to the page.