Doomed from the Get-Go

The fight, though ferocious and volatile, did not last long. Once the two brutes were locked in a veritable shoving match it had all come down to who would get the upper hand on the other first. As it turned out, that would be Artorias. As the violet stranger lowered his head to try and bite into his right side, the seasoned fighter took the opening to press his advantage. Artorias shoved all of his strength forward with one great surge, using his size to plow straight into the younger brute once his head was lowered. The Aegis kept his momentum going, shoving forward again and again against his opponent until he managed to push the boy off balance enough for Artorias to throw his shoulder forward and knock his foe off of his paws. Corbin and Eira once more returned to the branches of the trees to give their master overwatch once they saw the fight had been won, but Artorias wasn't done yet. This boy had threatened his daughter two too many times now and he was going to make sure there was no third time.

Looming over the teenager's fallen form, Artorias glowered with all the wrath of a parent defending their child's life, blue lips peeled back from sharp fangs. He kept his head high, tail curled up over his back in a dominant display, but it wasn't his teeth the stranger should fear. Instead, Artorias swiftly drew his sword from its scabbard on his back, bringing the edge of the blade around until it pressed against his fallen foe's throat. He did not want to kill the boy, but the message here was clear—yield or die. Artorias would not be showing any more mercy to this heathen. "Stay down and you get to stay alive," he snarled from around the sword's hilt in his jaws, years of practice speaking while armed allowing his words to be heard unmuffled. "You're going to tell me your name—your full name—and then you're going to fuck off to somewhere I won't ever see you again. And if you dare try to touch my daughter like that again, I'll hang your pelt in my bedchambers. Am I perfectly clear?" Artorias permitted the stranger to speak then, to answer his demands, but he would not remove the blade from the teen's throat until he was satisfied with what his defeated enemy had given him. And gods help the whelp if he was dumb enough to try something from this position.

"Artorias Carpathius"