Fate - First Reply Atonement

[Arnor Skuldsson]

The Spine.

Faragen.


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It was like a scar on his soul, the events of Faragen and the mocking of Lord Naleze. He had failed so many times before to slay him, but no longer. This was Arnor's triumph, or his end. He loaded up his horse, Rhi just outside of the town. The town was alive- somewhat, again. Naleze's power had grown, and his next trick was to awake the dead that once served him. Phantoms, ghouls and the undead rose from Faragen's ashes. The actions of the Templars long ago were now in vain, as Naleze's army grew in strength and power.

He infected the land like a foul plague, every which way the eye could see drained of life. It was how Naleze drew his power- from all living things. His power was immense, and all-consuming and all corrupting.

Arnor rode hard, Rhi's hooves digging deep into the ground, sending mud flying. At the outskirts of Fargen, lay a sentry, an undead soldier of some kind. It barely had time to turn and sound the alarm before Arnor's sword cleaved through it's head. He stopped just short of the town, looking down at Rhi. He dismounted his trusty horse, running his hand through it's impressive mane. Rhi was one of the largest horses on the continent- and one of the most tolerable of Nordenfiir. It was a rarity.

And he would not see the noble steed go any further on this quest.

"Farewell my friend- I hope to return to you." He removed the saddle and everything from Rhi, the King of Horses, and let it fall to the ground with a heavy thud. Rhi looked down at Arnor, pushing his face against his chest. "You cannot come, my dearest friend." He stroked his head, before patting him on the side.

"We'll meet again, my friend."

He said sadly, watching Rhi, equally sadly trot away.

Arnor picked up his sword, and unfurled the Axe of Knottington. He curled his fists around both, turning to face the town. A horde of undead and an evil creature lay between him and finally, perhaps peace in his mind.

Perhaps.

 

[Tharraleos]

A particular creature was soaring the skies aimlessly exploring the world of Arethil. The various mountain ranges of this region was just the type of environment he was suited for and often found himself wandering back here. It had been a relatively uneventful day thus far. A deep exhale passed through the nostrils of a curved yellow beak. Boredom had begun to set in and he found himself lost in thought reminiscing on previous excursions.

It wasn't long before something had abruptly snapped him back to reality. His predatory senses were alerting him to potential danger a few miles from here. Something tremendously heinous that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand. While a rational being would likely turn the other way, a grin of anticipation would bend the rostrum of the traveler. Seems like just the thing he was looking for. The sizable dark brown feathered flight bearers that were just lazily carrying him forth would then send him towards the disturbance with haste.

Within minutes his keen golden irises would spot what looked like a man on the outskirts of a town. From further discernment, this area had been overrun with hellish abominations and this individual looked to be prepared to take them on. Such bravado was either admirable or foolish and it couldn't quite be distinguished at this time, but his curiosity had certainly been piqued. With a decision made, he'd decend and hover in place about 20 feet above the large human. He did proceed with some caution as his interactions with humans have been hostile enough in the past.

"You there." A nigh baritone voice would call out to Arnor from above. If the man hasn't already been alerted to his presence before he spoke, he certainly would now. The Nordan would see a humanoid beast with a white feathered head and a well muscled khaki furred body. He'd raise an arm and point a digit of his paws towards the town.

"It appears you are in quite a circumstance. May I offer the use of my talents?" He would continue to inquire with proper inflections that betrayed his animalistic exterior. Just one look at him is all one needed to know he was a biological masterpiece and bred for bloodshed. The opportunity to stretch his muscles out sounded most delightful too. Honestly, this man's compliance was hardly relevant. But the warrior couldn't help but be curious about him as he sensed this was no ordinary human.

Arnor Skuldsson