It was a pleasant surprise to be alerted by one of the slaves that were tending the market to a familiar figure looming in the entrance. He lifted his head from his task, carefully setting the leaflets of parchment aside and setting the quill down on the stone floor. He replaced the cap on the little inkwell, careful not to waste the precious commodity. Slender limbs unfolded to lift him from his belly, and he licked his chest a few times to ensure the fur settled nicely after he'd shaken some of the silt from his fur. Swift strides brought him to the entrance of the cavern, and the sunlight streaming in from outside. He offered a half bow to the Warlord as he approached, and a small half-smile. "Welcome back, Warlord. It truly is a pleasure to see you again." he purred, taking a moment to cast his gaze behind the man in search of the sapphire marked male that had accompanied him last time. However, it seemed to be a solo venture this time around. He could feel the keen eyes of his master boring into his back, and ignored it in favour of straightening his shoulders and sweeping his tail across his hocks. It tucked loosely back between his thighs immediately afterwards, but the quick act of bolstering of his confidence would keep him afloat for a little while. "I hope that Miss Idalia has served well as a handmaiden thus far, Warlord?" he said lightly, canting his tapered skull to one side slightly. He had been sad to see the emberling leave, having grown attached without even noticing. The regency in his blood prayed that the girl found a warm, welcoming home with the Warlord and his wolves, a wolf that had once been his was one he didn't want to see mistreated. She had been through so much, he hoped she wouldn't have to suffer any longer. Every night had been a danger for her within these stone walls, and he hoped she never felt that fear again, despite his complete lack of control in the matter. Switching gears, he bid the concerns from his mind in favour of tending to business. "How may I be of service to you today, sir?" he asked next, brimstone gaze drifting along the rippling musculature of the large man, searching for cues or hints in his demeanour or attire. "speech" STEP IN LINE, EVERYTHING WILL BE JUST FINE

Now that he knew the way, the Warlord moved through the rocky terrain towards the caves that held the slavers. The watchers he had sighted on his first visit took note of him, and he knew he was likely to find Absinthe heading towards him any minute.

As he neared the entrance of the cave, the familiar form of that wolf appeared, nodding his head to the Warlord. Returning the gesture with a regal nod, he turned to the bear lumbering behind him. “Wait here” he ordered her. His attention returned to Absinthe “It's good to see you, too. No complaints about Idalia, thank you”

“I mentioned when we first met, a desire to see if you have any potential warriors. I would like to see them now.” The request of the Warlord bordering on an order.

"Sirius Fatalis"

It came as a relief to know that Idalia was well received, and he dipped his head gently in acknowledgement of the Warlord's words. He dared not ask if she was being treated well, lest he push his luck with the man's good graces. There were little other pleasantries exchanged, instead the titanic male cut straight to the intention behind his second visit. His expression did not shift from the cool mask of overall disinterest it had adopted once he had decided he had reached the end of his threshold for small talk. “I mentioned when we first met, a desire to see if you have any potential warriors. I would like to see them now.” the Warlord said curtly, leaving no room for argument. The charcoal marked male let his expression slip into the neutral mask he typically adopted when working, smoothing out the crisp lines of the star that had been painted between his brows. Dipping his head in a small bow to the Warlord, he said "Of course, Warlord. Please, follow me." and turned on his heel to pad deeper into the large main antechamber. As the last dredges of sunlight faded from his view, his vision dimmed. He let the warm light of the lamps lining the walls guide his path, carefully placed steps drawing him towards the back of the cavern. The lamps seemed to dim at the back of the cavern, where they began to trail along the walls of a tunnel that led away and deeper into the mountainside. Charcoal toes alighted softly on the stone floor, a light step that came from good breeding and proper upbringing. "I hope you find some of the wolves to your liking, Warlord." he murmured as he led the massive man deeper into the market's seedier sections. They passed a branching tunnel where the raucous sounds of laughter could be heard echoing from somewhere deeper in the cave- the gambler's den they had established. If one listened carefully, over the cacophony of laughter and arguing, there were the sounds of small game fighting for their lives in the pit that had been erected. Needless to say it had been a hit with most of the guests. Once they were out of direct earshot, he looked over his shoulder and slowed to fall more in step with his client. As always, he kept the larger man on his left side, where he could better see him. "Would you allow me to select a few of the candidates, or would you prefer to look our captives over yourself and make your selections?" he questioned gently, brows pinching together and auds flickering to capture his surroundings while his good eye was busied with reading the Warlord's expression in the dim light of the lamps. Within moments, they had entered into the cavern that held the pens. Along the left wall, a few smaller hollows had been fitted with young saplings that had dried into place, forming temporary gates to hold their newer acquisitions and more unruly captives. He hugged the right wall, and paused with only a small gap between himself and the receding wall that opened up into the cavern. He hoped it would be enough to encourage the Warlord to step further into the chamber and maintain his place on Absinthe's good side without making a show of placing himself where he could better see the large male. "speech" STEP IN LINE, EVERYTHING WILL BE JUST FINE

At his request, Absinthe was quick to accommodate him. The star-marked wolf leading the way, and Sirius at his heels. They moved into the dimmer cavern, passing by lamp fixtures in the walls. It seemed he was being led deep into the mountain. If they thought to do him wrong, they would be sorely mistaken.

“I hope I do as well.” The Warlord agreed sternly, but there was a hint of humor on his lips for those that cared to look. He perked up his ears at the sound of laughter and warm bodies. Silence came not long after, giving the impression that this complex was large enough to house multiple events at once.

“Select a few, Absinthe. Your decisions have been worthy thus far, let’s see how you do.” He complimented the smaller wolf. Curious to see what sort of specimens he would be dragging out.


"Sirius Fatalis"

Dealing with the Warlord directly was certainly an interesting shift from having him as an observer of his dealings with his godson. The titanic male was polite, but maintained a gruff demeanour and tone. He knew his way around, a far cry from the inexperience of the young man who had bought the emberling a week or so prior. As Absinthe found himself scrutinizing the captives that huddled in the shadows of the pens against the back wall, he wondered what variety of warriors the obsidian brute might be searching for. Perhaps a range of options would be best, allowing the client to cater to whatever ranks might be sparse among his pack. Assuming the roles the Warlord favoured was liable to get him in a great deal of trouble. Delicate charcoal toes drew him closer to the pen closest to the corner where he had settled, brimstone gaze narrowed as he sought to pick out the shapes of ideal warriors among the captives. The posted marauders guarding the pens stared sidelong at the scarred servant, knowing better than to say anything cruel when a customer was present. A russet and ebony male did curl a lip in disgust when he decided Absinthe was standing too close for his tastes, and sidestepped in the opposite direction. The stone walled pen held a few burly wolves that seemed to be sufficient to offer up. "Bellatrix, Opia, Arche, and... Ginseng." he called out to the well built captives scowling at him from the shadows, and then turned away to let the guards do the work of freeing him from the pen. They weren't designed to allow for the easy movement of such a large wolf through the bars. His attention drifted over the cerulean and alabaster marked male with the dark mask, who had been taken from the same raid as Idalia. Arche was certainly a stunning creature, though his constant (and certainly valid) scowl marred the appeal of his fine features. The next pen was the last one. Another orange dappled form caught his gaze, and though the man was neither large or especially imposing, Absinthe had seen him lay out and slaughter one of the marauders who had first attempted to secure his capture. "Satoru.. and you as well, Malachite." he finalized his selections, and stepped away to wait for them to assemble in a neat line for the Warlord to appraise. There were a few that he hoped would meet the man's standards, and Satoru especially worried him as a prospective warrior. Skilled in underhanded tactics, but an all out brawl did not suit his skills. Beelzebub would certainly fit the bill as an ideal guard for borders, long legs and powerful muscles well suited to covering ground and cutting down trespassers. He fell back into his place at the Warlord's right flank, and glanced up at the larger male. "I believe these would be the best candidates to meet your needs, feel free to take as much time as you need to assess them, my lord." he murmured, and dipped his head to offer up the captives for the man's inspection. "speech" STEP IN LINE, EVERYTHING WILL BE JUST FINE

"speech" "Japanese" thoughts "others" Aimlessly drifting on the currents of a new master's whims, the frail assassin let himself be herded from one place to the next. Today, he was lounging at the back of a stone hollow, penned in with saplings amongst wolves who had learned better than to test his mettle. It was rare that anyone bothered him anymore, and he simply waited for the next path to open up in front of him. The other captives were far more agitated to be penned in, and didn't often take him up on his offers for entertainment to pass the time. Needless to say, he was woefully understimulated, and beginning to consider starting a fight just to occupy his attention for a while with something. The small rations didn't affect his health too much, he'd been raised on small portions and survived a famine in his lifetime. Where his cellmates were sluggish and snippy, he was settling back into old rhythms of napping constantly and only getting up to move when the temperature rose at midday. The half blind slave that the marauder king kept had emerged from the tunnel, and at his side was an immense ebony wolf with teeth nearly half the length of the koi's forearm. Seafoam gaze glimmered with intrigue as he watched them converse quietly, before Absinthe moved in closer to the pens to inspect the captives. Was the imposing male looking for a toy? He wouldn't mind being someone's plaything again, especially for a strong man like this one. As the names rung out, carefully selected and announced by a tongue that bore a lilting, Slavic accent, a picture began to form. These were the large, imposing wolves who had readily bumped shoulders with one another during the long voyage on the sea, threatening to tear everyone in the vicinity to shreds when they reached their breaking points. The buyer wanted warriors, or mercenaries. Hard to say for certain what exactly was on the agenda for these folks. The delicate male folded one dark forepaw over the other, casting an assessing gaze over the tall male as he stared through the sapling gate into his pen. Mint eyes met magma, and he nearly didn't register his own name escaping Absinthe's jaws. Oh, what a treat. Always full of surprises, this one. He hadn't missed the care with which the stoic servant had collected that poor ex-noble and put her to bed after the guards had their way with her. The man was a softie, whether he tried to hide it or not. Rising slowly to his paws, the ache of his joints betrayed the less than ideal living quarters he'd been forced into. Hissing a breath in between his teeth, the dappled male shook out his dark coat to ensure it fell smoothly across his angular bodice. He waited patiently for the guard to pull back the hardened saplings enough for him to squeak through, and then plodded forth to fall in line with the other prospective slaves. Pastel green gaze drifted over the armed mutant that stood before him, opting to hold his tongue in favour of standing at attention. Tail hung limply against his hocks, though his auds stood tall and gaze fixed just over the tall man's shoulder as he awaited a verdict. ;I HAD STRINGS BUT NOW I'M FREE, THERE ARE NO STRINGS ON ME;