@metallicuscaro | starter call
Of all the faces to come across, the metal veneer of the Latvarian ruler ranked amongst the unexpected. A villain whose terror knew no boundary, he had previously thought that the masked one was still in the throes of facing eternal torment for the horrific crimes he perpetrated against the gods. But, seeing him as he was now, apparently freed and all too capable of plotting new schemes, made the fallen thunderer’s blood boil in anger.
Laying Jarnbjorn upright across the back of his shoulders, a furious scowl took firm hold of his features, a showing that gave only a glimpse of the ire he felt towards this man. Flashing the villain a grimace that was all teeth, he bellows, “Have you returned to siphon the powers of my father, most loathed one?” Preparing for the worst, whilst he spoke, the Odinson broadened his stance, moving his feet further apart whilst crouching slightly.
So desperately had he wanted to lung forward and cut the masked one down, but a pesky hesitance impeded his step; he did not possess the same thunder and might that had aided him well in their last encounter, a fact which planted a seed of doubt in his mind that he could dispatch the Latvarian in one fell swoop. Thus, he settled for continuing to make words his weapons instead.
“No amount of bestial soldiers will stall the arcing of my blade as it seeks out your head!”
