Recent content by Irman Harefoot

“Oksenmjod”. A dwarven word, but not one that Irman knew. He would have to ask some other time about it, as currently the conversation was becoming a bit too personal for his liking. Outwardly, there was no change in Irman’s expression or his demeanor. Friendly if a bit aloof, odd for the...

As the cart pulled out from the stable, a grin crept onto Irman’s face. He held his pipe to his mouth in a relaxed fashion before hopping onto a stack of wooden crates in a way that made him seem lighter than air. From atop the crates he then leapt into a twirl, spinning several times over...

The juxtaposition of Sigrun’s candid tone and busted face caught Irman off guard. He inhaled sharply to avoid laughing in his companion’s face, only to begin hacking and coughing as he brought in more smoke than air. “*huah* *kuh* *kuh* T-Tobacco my dear Sigruu*kuh*n. I-“ Irman paused a...

OOC: this is a sequel thread to Hellboars on the Highlands and broken noses at the Crooked Noose. Feel free to read those if you want additional context It was morning in Quarry Hill. The trading town was quick to rise as there were hundreds of people with places to be and even more with...

A shiver ran up Irman’s back, different from the kind he had gotten from the boars or the corpse. Even he had heard of Crobhear Keep: a legendary abode for the highest echelon of monster hunter, often dubbed “the night hunters”. Gears were turning as it silently dawned on him that Noct Yaegir...

“He offered some.” Irman chuckled “but I had a few too many reservations at the time.” Demolition did have its benefits, even without the aid of alchemy or magic, a well placed strike could cave in the cavern and rid the threat of more altered wildlife. Irman couldn’t help but have a feeling...

“Hold your horses for a second, I’m starting to have a hard time seeing.” From his pack, Irman produced a small metal vial with glass at one end. Gently, he twisted a cap at the top of the vial and soft green light began to shine through the glass. “A lantern I got from an alchemist in...

Nauseous and dizzy, Irman could still see Mongrel clearly charging towards him with hands outstretched like a young urchin looking to snatch bread from a basket. “What’s even with this guy?” Irman muttered as he feigned obliviousness at Mongrel’s approach. Then, when the young vagrant was...

The sound of Sigrun’s restored confidence did much to replenish Irman’s own. Which was good, since confidence was pretty much the only thing that was keeping Irman from falling over in an exaggerated fashion. Following the trail left by the mutated Hellboar’s was an easy task. Splintered...

Seeing this “mongrel” gleefully demand a challenge as angry drunks descended upon him un-dissuaded made Irman question just how drunk he actually was. “Sure I accept, and if you want to fight your way over to me than be my guest, Dog Boy! Wait…you aren’t just ragging on me for my clothes too...

Irman chuckled at how innocent Sigrun’s response sounded. Then he couldn’t help but laugh at it all. Two monster hunters sharing something that could almost be called a tender moment, while they sat covered in gore and watching an indescribable horror burn under a fallen tree. It wasn’t funny...

The bar was quiet for a moment as the wooden mug clattered on the dirt floor. Half the patrons watched as the dazed struggled to avoid falling over, while the other half eyed the young vagrant who had just struck Tybar, 4th in command of the infamous Zodyr Mountain Bandits, in the head. Mr...

The town of Quarry Hill was named as such for the gargantuan pile of stones that the town was first settled around. The stones had been dug up long ago by the deep reaching mines of ancient dwarven kingdoms, piled high as the dwarves carved through The Spine. Countless years later, as human...

By the time Irman heard the old tree begin to creek, he was well at the end of his rope. Past a certain point he wasn’t sure how he was still moving. Striking and dodging, keeping the boar’s attention on him and its position in the path of where the tree was going to fall. It felt wrong to...

The bladed edge of Irman’s billhook came down on the center boar’s head. Its face crumpled like a linen bag as the skull caved with disturbing ease. This did not fell the mutated Hellboar however, instead it began to struggle against the imbedded weapon. Irman yanked back his billhook and...