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So this is the "newest" guy on board, Jotun!
He's actually been around longer than Argos have, I've had him ever since the start of my "furry" days, but recently me and my gal Villdyr decided to give him a little make-over!
And with the help of the amazing Maaty-S, this baby came to life.
Maaty-s is the one behind the refsheet of this guy, so go give them some love!
So he's the closest so what I would call a fursona. Argos is presently more my face within the fandom and I love that big ol' dork to bits, but I also wanted something else to represent me and my origin roots a bit more, something a closer to home, and less... Edgy?
This is where Jotun comes in!
MINI BIO;
Jotun Jarnthradi was a viking raider living at some point between 8-900 B.C.
He led a small band across the roiling seas to claim silver, fame and thralls for his hometown, and initially enjoyed a great deal of success. However, with this came a steadily increasing hubris and confidence, believing himself to be chosen by the gods as a champion, or even an incarnation of one of them. His overconfidence eventually cost him the majority of his raiding party, losing friends and family in the process. He realized he had insulted the gods with his hubris, and they were punishing him as they saw fit. He resigned his status as Jarl, sending the remains of his warband back north, eaving him at the beach.
He roamed around alone as a fugitive for a while, before running into a mysterious girl that was on the run from her captors. Together they overpowered the small hunting party, and went into hiding.
The girl turned out to be norse like him, and their tone grew from sceptical hesitation, into mutual respect, and even started getting romantic and carnal. But one morning, the girl had disappeared from his life as fast as she had entered, and he was once again alone.
He ran into another raiding party, and they accepted him into their fold as a berserker, hunting for an honorable death and his seat in valhalla. The gods were not done with him though, and having survived defeat, shame, dishonor and heartache, they would not let him have the peace of death. No matter how reckless, no matter how brash, noone seemed to be able to land a fatal blow. This gradually made him more and more enfuriated as he could gain no glory without his name, wracking himself with worries about the vanished girl, and longing for his old friends in Valhalla.
The Moniker Jarnthradi, or Ironthread, was given to him in this period to reflect his inability to die.
His thread was ironclad, uncuttable, much to his resentment.
Finally, nearly a year after he joined the new warbnd, he met his end.
During a large battle with the englishmen, in the thick of the fighting, the girl returned.
She appeared from the ranks of the english, and Jotun felt the sting of betrayal. Noone else seemed to notice them as they dueled among them, her movement expertly avoiding his crushing blows.
With a pirhouette, she thrust her spear in between his ribs, twisted it and ripped it out in a shower of blood.
As he fell to a knee, she kissed him on the cheek, and disappeared back into the ranks of the english.
Jotun was not dead yet, but was bleeding profusely.
With reignited vigor and a roar of defiance, he bounded back into the fight, his axe biting deep with reckless abandon.
As the battle ended, the english routing, Jotun slumped down on a rock to catch his breath. Arrows were sticking out of his shoulder, out of breath and feeling the first drops of a rainstorm his his muzzle, he told the others to go on ahead, he would catch up in a moment. He tilted his head back and enjoyed the cold touch of rain on his aching muscles, when a familiar voice snapped him out of his rest.
There she was again, the girl in pearly white fur. But now she had wings, were donning golden armour and her bloody spear. She explained to him that she was a valkyrie, and had grown too fond of him to see him keep suffering at the whim of the gods. She was taking him home.
She took his hand, and beat her wings and the two slowly ascended into the next realm. Behind him, Jotun could see his shattered shield cast aside, his chipped axe resting on the ground, and his own dead body looking into the sky, eyes glazed over and a smile on his face.
Things weren't all good though.
Sif, as the Valkyrie was called, had committed a crime in directly interfering with his fate. He had not been destined to die that day, but she had taken maters into her own hands and deprived the gods their plaything.
As a result, she was sentenced to Exile, while Jotun could take his seat among his friends and family, the killing blow on his chest the only scar remaining on him.
It was not fair though, she had saved him from his fate and he owed her his honor.
So he downed his drinking horn, got up from the table and declared himself willing to be exiled alongside her.
And so they were.
Into an age of metal beasts and no honor, of no gods, glory or kin.
The Present Day.
Category Designs / General Furry Art
Species Canine (Other)
Size 1768 x 847px
File Size 1.18 MB
Listed in Folders
if you do not know him I'll introduce you Claw Bel'Hache
http://www.furaffinity.net/view/30072427/
http://www.furaffinity.net/view/30072427/
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