Home sweet new home

Sirius’ embrace was warm and familiar, and for a brief moment it made Artorias feel like everything was right in the world. "I missed you too," he returned to the former Warlord. Isa greeted him equally as warmly and dismissed herself to go find the kitchens. Art knew of the elder fae’s love of the culinary arts and he knew she’d be right at home amongst the Hallows’ facilities. "Of course, Isa! I believe Briar is in there getting dinner prepped." Art had a feeling Briar and Isa would get along well now that they had plenty of time to get to know each other better.

The two brutes now left to their own devices, Artorias motioned for Seer to take a walk with him, leading a leisurely pace down the rolling green hills towards the castle so they could walk and talk. "I'm afraid it’s worse than you feared, Sirius… Basilisk has changed the Armada to the Cutesy Cuddle Club and begun inviting Sparrow’s family over for make up snuggles." Art even feigned a distressed expression and grievous voice as he spoke, keeping the facade up for a moment longer before a smirk cracked through and he shot his father in law a mischievous grin. "The Armada is fine from what I’ve heard, though Basilisk is making some… concerning decisions."

Artorias drew in a deep breath, not wanting to worry Sirius in his retirement, but not willing to lie to his father in law either. "You remember Sephiran Saxe?" Of course Seer would remember the insolent cur; both alphas had fought the bastard before when he’d made advanced on their young daughters. "He and his family recently usurped a pack for themselves. Took the alpha’s son hostage and threatened his life to get what they wanted rather than challenge the alpha directly. They’ve relocated back to the north somewhere near Heiðinn and Elysium. There’s… a significant number of them now, all in support of the rabid fucker as far as I’ve seen. They go by the Syndicate, and they’ve declared all members of the old Ashen Empire their enemies."

Artorias released a heavy sigh, feeling that crushing weight of the world coming back down on his shoulders as his amber eyes turned downward, ears flattened to his skull. "I convened a meeting of the alphas to warn them of the Syndicate. It… did not go as well as I hoped. Many refused to see the threat of the Syndicate as a concern. Basilisk was one of those wolves, despite the open threat made to the Armada. He’s chosen to remain neutral, to take no sides and has even been talking with some of their wolves too. I tried to keep the old empire together in a new coalition, but I don’t know if Bas will continue to remain in the group. He didn’t exactly seem keen on keeping the Armada in an alliance if it meant facing the threat of war, even if it means letting a group of savages and degenerates that threatened his family run free across Ardent. I don’t think he believed me when I told them all of Sephiran and his family’s behaviors."

Artorias scowled, doing little to hide his frustration and disappointment with the other alphas, especially Basilisk and Avacyn. The only one who had agreed directly to the coalition was Kotori. Where did that leave the packs of Ardent now? Broken and fragmented, to stand alone against whatever came their way? What happened to the days of grandeur of the Ashen Empire, where all the packs came together as one?

"Artorias Carpathius"