The past guides us

A grim concern had lingered in Artorias' mind for some time now. It had been quite a while since his sister Avantika had been seen around the Hallows, and while it wasn't uncommon for her to go out to have her own adventures or do some solo training, the absence of his Commander was a sorely missed one that all the pack felt. Initial searches of the nearby area had, expectedly, turned up nothing. She'd been gone for too long for even a trace of a scent to be found. Tika's disappearance did worry the overly protective Carpathian, but he knew there was little to nothing for them to do about it. He would just have to trust that Tika was able to fend for herself and she'd have a good explanation whenever she did come back to them—if she ever came back to them...

To help keep his mind from dwelling on his missing sister, Artorias lost himself in the wonderfully repetitive work of maintaining the equipment in the armory. Leather armor had been oiled, metal plates polished and shined, and blades honed and sharpened to deadly efficacy. He hadn't expected to have any company in the quiet of the armory, so it came as a bit of a surprise when the doors opened and in walked one of his closest friends. Art smiled at Mercury and greeted his Vanguard with a nod of his head and a wag of his tail, currently in the process of wiping down his dagger. Merc asked if he had a moment. "Of course I do. In fact, I'll even spare two moments for you," he teased his friend with a playful grin. Art ran a paw pad carefully down the flat edge of his dagger, testing the smoothness of the blade's edge. "What's on your mind, Merc?"

"Artorias Carpathius" | "Carpathian"