I got fire in my soul

Artorias had been spending much of his time working in the forge lately. Shaping metal, smelting billets of Carpathian steel, smithing new blades and repairing old ones. It was as if the Lord of Cinder was preparing for a war—and in some ways, maybe he was. The Hallows had to be ready to stand toe to toe with any foe and win, and that meant having the technological advantage, namely superior equipment. So Artorias worked tirelessly to meet the needs and path of the pack, as well as working on commissions for other wolves. It was hard, tiring, sweaty work, but Art loved it!

The dire brute had stepped away from the forge for a short break that rainy day, giving himself some time to cool off and grab some lunch before returning to his work. The Lord had never even noticed the little pup playing troublemaker sneaking into the forge until he walked back in and found Titus sitting in the middle of the floor, gnawing on the hilt of a blade. Art blinked, surprised to see his nephew here. Pups weren’t allowed in the forge or armory unattended. But rather than start with stern yelling or a scolding, Artorias chose a different route, knowing his sister would likely be giving the boy a talking to about safety and following the rules.

Despite his giant size, Artorias was actually quite deft on his paws from his years of navigating rough terrains. Sneaking up behind the lad, Artorias cleared his throat with a loud "Ahem," and fixed Titus with a serious stare. "Find something interesting, Titus?" he asked his nephew rhetorically, glancing to the Carpathian steel blade the lad had found. "What did your mother tell you about coming in here alone?" It wasn’t a rule just to be strict. The forge was a dangerous place to the unskilled and unaware. He raised a brow at Titus; he expected an answer from the pup.

"Artorias Carpathius" | "Carpathian"