Bathing in a flash of blue neon light, Titan's footsteps echoed against the walls of the Audience Hall. Standing there clad in armor, he reached for his back, drawing forth his claymore, dubbed Firebolt. His hands seemed to glow an almost luminescent blue hue as his gauntlets appeared around closed fists, the palms of his hands locked around the hilt of his blade. Instantly, small bolts of electricity radiated off his armor, making contact with the ground with a loud crackle. His hair raising, the tension in the room was palpable as he stepped forward. Instantly the room grew dark and cold, and Titan's voice thundered throughout the hallow hall. "Torcus Taliden." He’d encountered the mongrel before in his travels. There was a sense of rivalry between them, one Titan was willing to rekindle that very moment if it was required of him. “Everything okay here Kanixillo?” The whole mood was hostile as Titan stood there with little patience for the politics of their kind. Words like elder meant very little to someone such as Titan. Either way, he would cut him down all the same. “What is it exactly we can do for you?” Noticing that Torcus was clutching a shred of paper, he peered at it curiously, able to pull one name from its contents.
The name struck a chord in him as he tried to figure why it stood out. Wasn’t the noble one of the suitors that had asked for the Queen’s hand? Lathaim. What could he possibly have to do with this situation? “What business do you have with Lathaim?” Of a serious note, he lowered his blade, dropping his guard for the briefest of moments as he consulted his better judgement. “You should save your breath because he isn’t here. Quite frankly, I’m not sure where he is. He is the son of well-liked noble in Serenia.” Being that he came late to the party, Titan had little notion of what Torcus intended for the nobles son. To be quite frank, he’d half-hoped it wasn’t good. Titan had little patience for the Queen’s suitors. They came in droves, serenading the Queen in poetry and lavish gifts they claimed were from the heart. This was just something Titan could clearly do without in his line of work. Not to mention, it was hard to suppress his own feelings for the Queen when the subject of suitors came about.
Clutching his claymore, he lifted it up again, with few intentions on letting his guard drop a second time. His last encounter with Torcus wasn’t a house call. It was neither pleasant for him nor the lycan. There were a few scars that Titan bore that were in part to Torcus’s handiwork. Perhaps this encounter could remain civil, in some respect. After all, he wasn’t about to fight the creature in the heart of the castle with the Queen in attendance. “Tell us why you require Lathaim and I’ll see about sparing you your head.” There had been rumors of Lathaim as of late, things that swirled around in the underbelly of society, hushed whispers that Titan had heard about. He hadn’t been sure if they were true, but if they were, his doings were said to have intimately involved the lycans.