Shanghaied

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"