Help me, Help me, there’s monsters out to get me

The clatter and clang of steel striking against steel echoed through the frosty winter air around the snow-covered grove. Below the bare branches of the thicket of trees, Artorias danced around through the snow and ice while Ember swung her sword at him, trying to catch his legs to hobble him. Artorias deftly avoided the attacks, deflecting blow after blow from his daughter with practiced ease while his paws moved in a blur across the ground. Ember had become a talented swordsman and he was immensely proud of her prowess. "Bine! Dar va trebui să fii mai rapid decât atât." Taunting his daughter, spurring her on as he deflected another swing and brought the flat end of his sword down to bump against her shoulder, indicating a direct hit.

Laughing playfully, Art ducked a swing from Ember's sword and then locked their blades together just as a howl from nearby sounded and caught his attention. The voice sounded desperate and urgent. Breaking out of their lock, Artorias sheathed his sword and cast Ember a look before leading the way across the grove to the voice that summoned him. The wolf wasn't hard to spot; a spot of russet fur against the white of snow and ice. She was a small thing, about the size of his daughter, and she looked absolutely exhausted, like she'd just run from one end of the world to the other.

Artorias hurried over to her, checking her for signs of injury or damage. "Hey! Are you all right?" he called to the stranger as he drew near, lowering his head to keep from intimidating her with his greater size. He didn't know who she was or where she had come from, but she sounded scared. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her more. "It's okay, you're safe here. You're-" Artorias' words drifted off as he caught the scent on the girl, a musk that made his fur bristle on instinct. She reeked of the Syndicate. Concern instantly turned to trepidation in the dire wolf's amber eyes, watching her with his guard up. "You're from the Syndicate." What was her purpose here? He hadn't seen this Syndicate wolf before, but any who bore Sephiran Saxe's scent were ones Artorias was immediately suspicious of.

"Artorias Carpathius" | "Carpathian"