Rupert

Moby followed the voice, and his vision was led towards the corner where it met a man adorned in a long robe of black sat upon a chair with his back turned. In his hands was what seemed to be a brush, and ahead of him was a massive canvas where that same woman from before was drawn, this time stepping and torturing a white-haired angel as he struggled to breathe beneath her boot. That angel was none other than his old team leader, Artorias that he found sat unconscious ahead of the canvas, tied up firmly in a mixture of black and ashen flames unable to speak, the same flame that was used against him by the man beneath his feet. 

'What's going on? Is… Is that guy drawing Artorias for his new painting… Is that why he's still alive…' He thought to himself before shaking his head, refocusing himself after all he witnessed. 

"Ruler of this castle! I've come to see you! No harm shall be put upon you if you cooperate with me!" Moby announced.