Chess, Not Checkers

No sooner had their conversation faded off, the Warlord himself arrived, an imposing force to be respected and revered as he loomed above the two boys. Artorias met him with a warm smile and bright eyes, noting that Sirius' mood was notably better than the last time he'd seen him. Seer had been volatile, riding a razor's edge of misery and fury. Now he looked much more like the wolf he remembered meeting as a small child.

"I know, I'm sorry if I caught you unprepared. Ulric was able to let me go sooner than expected, and I thought I might be of better use here for now." His words, while neither full truths nor lies, were a perfect blend of his intentions. To learn and protect. Seer would never know that though. He would just appear to be an eager student, bright-eyed and bushy tailed. "That sounds great, thank you, sir!" he replied, only then allowing himself to finally step over the Armada's borders and follow the Warlord through his domain. "I have a gift for you from the Hallows as well. Ulric recently discovered some wine cellars beneath the castle and he asked me to bring you a couple of vintages." He didn't know if Seer partook of alcohol, but surely someone in his family would, so the gifts wouldn't go to waste. His mothers had always imparted the importance of bringing your host a gift when they offer you hospitality.

"Artorias Carpathius"