Just a little bit in trouble

The Warlord howled at the border, and then crossed over because he was expected. Marshal had flown ahead to warn them of him impending arrival, and that Arts presence would be needed away from the castle for a time. He walked across the flowery meadow of the field before the castle. His eyes bright and lit with inner mischief. The Warlord of the Armada, Briars father and godfather to Artorias had come with mischief in mind. He needed to act fast, kidnap the boy before Briar got to think too heavily about it.

He made his way to the castle in good time. A sack across his shoulders, and Bast the Leopard at his side. He stopped in the courtyard, and sat himself on his hunches, waiting for Artorias to appear. Whatever business he needed to attend to before this ill fated night could take place would need to be quick. The Warlord was in an impatient, boisterous mood. This kidnapping could be Arts choice, or he could find himself knocked upside the head before waking up somewhere new and interesting. The Warlord whistled lightly as he waited for his godson to make an appearance.

"Speech"