courtesy call

Sirius' little project had become a full-blown army at Deathbelle's disposal. Lucretia was proud of the warlord - no one could say that he didn't get what he wanted. It was a trait to be envied and admired. He had come so far from her sister's playmate in their youth; in fact, the titan was barely recognizable. Since the health of the Ashen Empire was her primary concern, she figured it was about time to pay a courtesy call to his new lands.

After all, she'd heard rumors that the lauded fighter had gotten himself a bit banged up. That wouldn't do at all. Lucretia arrived without Bourbon in tow, but they had enough on their plate: spring brought new opportunities for gathering and their stores were fearsomely low. They couldn't both go scurrying around, as much as she might have missed his company (though she'd never admit it). The thin female settled down and called for Sirius, a chummy familiarity in her tone. What had he gotten himself into?