he had known about this place. known about a place that was like the exiles, but much worse. the remains of whatever glory said clan used to have- as if all the danger and rot and ruin in that place had all but sucked dry, and went to this place instead. it was a sight to behold, even if he wasn't there to witness it. it peaked his interest, and if the commander didn't have a task to accomplish, he would of still checked the area out. curiosity got the better of him, he supposed.
his wings folded neatly to his sides, the unidentifiable large feline found himself at the border. a border that smelled of rot and viscera- he wrinkled his nose at it, instinctively. his left front leg, which was made entirely of metal, was quivering with anticipation. he knew to look extensively into what the ascendancy did for initiation. though it didn't sound logical at all (good job, stupid group. you're injuring all of your valuable fighters. just weakening them for war.), the masked man he couldn't just ignore it. so with an exasperated sigh, he would wait, readying himself for the moment someone would attack him with malicious intent in mind.
Balthazar has assumed someone had left them a gift when the wafting aroma of rotting meat hit his nostrils. A corpse just for him, how pleasant. Truly. His tail would twitch as he approached, maw turning into a frown when he realized it wasn’t a corpse and someone who was still living and breathing. How boring, Balthazar hated dealing with the living the facade he put on grated heavily on his nerves. The frown would turn to a sweet grin as he approached, muscles rippling beneath his pelt as he stopped in front of the stranger eyeing them lazily.
"You smell quite.... nice" he’d muse with a purr voice sounding non-sarcastic and more truthful than he’d like to let on. "What is your business with the ascendancy?" the vice would question.