Recent content by Arnor Skuldsson

Arnor seemed to be in thought for a moment. He was thinking of if he could rip off the Wyvern's wings, and it still be alive, technically. Arnor crossed his arms, pacing away from the redhead. He looked up at the ceiling, turning his head halfway back to her. "Ever even done anything this...

[ Sorry. ] "Modesty goes a long way. Nordenfiir, my people, are never shy to ask for help. Hunts are never successful alone, my father used to say." He said, his eyes hardening for a second at the mention of his father. And especially something somewhat positive. He quickly moved ahead, not...

Wyvern. Arnor looked up, his eyes shooting open at the sound of the sack rumbling and the rather heavy head hitting the floor. His eyes went to the head, then to the Baron, to the redheaded woman. Foragers. Mercenaries. And comparatively, inexperienced monster hunters. He took a deep breath...

The bear, the beast, the man. Arnor dismounted the carriage, his heavy form landing on the ground with a distinct "thud" sound. He was heavier than most, heads or more taller than the others gathered. And for the record- Arnor, at six and a half feet tall, was short for a Nordenfiir. And he...

Noct Yaegir. Bastards had been cutting into his business in some instances. Do-gooders with a purpose. While admirable in some areas, and generally, Arnor didn't dislike them... he wasn't exactly always a huge fan of people who did his line of work. Arnor, at this point, was a professional, a...

EPRESSA A lullaby to keep you from peaceful slumber, a cry to unsettle. Death is close, looming, and the spirits are dwindling in wait. Arnor turned his head. The screams were too infrequent, spaced out. Something was moving, rapidly, attacking. Something that had the entire town barricaded...

They were both in need of a respite, and they got it just briefly when the undead were cut down, in droves. He took a deep breath, the transformation causing him to be somewhat less than he was before. Not that it wasn't beneficial- in fact, he could come and go as he wanted to, as did all of...

EPRESSA Outsourcing. Outsourcing was not a new thing, but it may have been a new term. At least, to Arnor. He was a premiere monster, demon, vampire- generally, anything that went bump in the night, didn't particularly like Arnor. And Arnor didn't like them. He wasn't however, a hateful man...

The undead were felled, cut to ribbons by the duo. Arnor fought like a madman, his sword dancing, blocking, cleaving, being used as a hammer like at times. Arnor fought savagely- he was skilled, and trained, for sure- but he lacked finesse, he lacked grace. But their numbers were plenty- and...

(We are so back.) "Creepy." Arnor said. Didn't seem his first time with ghosts- or phantoms, or illusions. Or... something else. Arnor felt like it was something else. Something more sinister than just ghosts and phantoms. How did a city- clearly not built underground, get here? Answers...

There was a voice- but it sounded like many, in the distance of the cave.... almost feint, but there. It was vacant, empty. He looked over at the cliff-face, and the path that descended below. He looked over at the other man, nodding. They needed to at least know, at the very least, what was...

"I know of you." Arnor was a learned man- one did not make it this far in his profession by not being one. It paid to know the who's-who of the Monster Hunting and in this case, the Demon Hunting variety. Demons, malicious spirits- Arnor preferred to not get involved. But ghosts, goblins...

Arnor's face was shadowed by the torch, and he lowered it to let the stranger get a good luck at him. The Nordenfiir was big, tall, and broad-shouldered, like most of his species. His face wasn't particularly old, but not quite young either. Quite obviously an experienced man- and the small...

THE SPINE KNOTTINGTON Rhi, the King of Horses, was dead. Arnor stood silently, the funeral pyre building. He wiped away a tear, watching the flames lick away at his most constant companion. He stood there silently, watching the pyre build in intensity, the wood built around the giant of a...

THE SPINE CITY OF LIGHTWOOD THE DEVIL COMES FROM BELOW They said they came from here- they, being the village elders that had put up the notice all over the Spine for assistance. The dead were plaguing Lightwood, feasting on their game, cutting trees. Very peculiar for the undead to do. The...