What Happens in Fenmyre...

It was late in the evening when Artorias approached the makeshift dock that had been set up by the Fenmyre ferry. Under the cover of night, the Aegis had slipped away from the Hallows, leaving the world he knew in favor for indulgence into the darkness the worldly king of the island had introduced him to. When he'd been here last, Chimera had shown him ways to purge, to unleash his baser needs and desires and live uninhibited and free. While he hadn't been able to untether himself from his morals and ethics then when presented with a slave and carte blanche, this time a dark rage smoldered in his heart. He hadn't been angry last time. He'd been too in control to let the leash go. Now, after his encounter with Oxx, Artorias had been struggling with his volatile emotions.

Artorias was incensed. He had been humiliated, emasculated in his defeat at the paws of his adoptive brother. He'd tried to tamp down the fury, the need to hurt and destroy, to repress it and ignore it, but the pressure never went away. This wasn't like the angers he'd felt before when he'd been helpless to save his dying mother or when he'd learned of Sirius' mistreatment of Tamsyn—this was so much more violent and primal. Briar had gone back home, Bowen was busy with her boyfriend, and without another outlet Artorias had found himself sleepless and restless, unable to think of anything beside his failure and his revenge. He needed a purge, an outlet that he couldn't find anywhere else other than the kingdom of degeneracy just across the continent.

He hadn't been in the right state of mind to participate in Chimera's wonderland before. This time was different.

Working the pulley system, Artorias tugged the barge raft over to the shore, then climbed on and began to pull himself across to the opposite dock. Each pull of the rope brought him closer to the island, and with each grunt of effort Artorias' feral emotions were stoked. Flashbacks of Oxx throwing him to the ground, pummeling him to a bloody mess in the snow, the feel of his teeth in the back of his neck while he violated him, losing his sword to the bastard... Artorias' amber eyes were narrowed to deadly points by the time he arrived at the dock between the skeletons of old ships. The dark-furred wolf stepped onto the dock and gave a call for the king, already making his way down the long dock and walking with purpose. He was ready to do business with the devil and explore parts of him he'd kept locked away from everyone else.

"Artorias Carpathius"