Lord Of the Keep

Despite his youthfulness that was close to his own, Artorias saw the propriety within Mercury that screamed of a highborn upbringing. His decorum, his mannerisms, even the way he spoke, someone had taught this wolf how to be a perfect proper gentleman, the kind you'd see perusing a noble's court. He lacked a certain roughness to him though, a weathered edge that wasn't there yet that was prevalent within the Carpathian wolf's own character. He'd had a comfortable upbringing wherever he hailed from. It did make the Aegis more than a little curious about how a wolf such as himself ended up as a nomad traveling the Austral countryside on a pilgrimage of knowledge. Perhaps he'd have to ask him once he had finished giving Mercury the show-and-tell he had come all this way for.

Unsurprisingly, Mercury wanted to start with his sword. A wry smirk curled the corner of Artorias' lips upward with a chuckle. His penchant for carrying his sword with him and using it in virtually every bout of combat had earned him something of a reputation across Boreas and Auster, so it didn't come as much of a shock that this was where Mercury's curiosities began. Motioning for his guest to follow him, Art led the wolf over to sit atop one of the hills that looked out over the plains, closer to the castle. Taking a seat, Artorias grasped the hilt of his sword from over his shoulder in his jaws and unsheathed his blade, the finely honed metal rasping against the well-maintained leather as it slid from its home. The striking Damascus steel glinted in the sunlight, a flash of silver as its wielder carefully set its point into the soft earth, holding it propped upright with his paws on the crossguard so Mercury could study it closer.

"This is my sword. Its name is Embershard." Artorias turned the blade slightly, angling it so the sunlight caught off the several fire-toned gemstones set into the crossguard and pommel. The sunlight reflecting off the steel seemed to make the sword glow, as if it was giving off its own light and energy, like a blade made of living fire. Artorias gazed with pride at the weapon, still scarcely believing that it had been with him for almost two years now. "It was given to me as a gift on my first birthday by my mother." A pause, a beat of hesitation in the alpha's response before he carefully corrected himself, "...By my late mother." How had it been nearly two years since Resin had died? Where had that time gone? To think that he had now lived more of his life without his adoptive mother than with her wrenched Artorias' heart within his chest, though he maintained his measured expression and composure well. The last thing he wanted to do was give away a trace of emotional vulnerability to someone he had only just met.

Taking a breath, Artorias blinked to refocus his attention on the dark-furred dire wolf with him, giving Mercury an arching grin as he gestured to his sword. "Go on, you can take a closer look," he invited the curious wolf in to inspect and study the weapon up close. "Mind the edges though, she's very sharp." While Mercury did his studying of the sword and came up with more questions to ask, Artorias took the opportunity to ask a question of his own. "So what sparked your interest in weapons, Mercury?" Many wolves relied on their teeth, claws, and mutations in these lands, and while he had developed something of a reputation of a weapons master, Artorias was always curious about how others came to him in pursuit of their passions.

"Artorias Carpathius" | "Carpathian" | "Corbin" | "Eira" | "Argent"