trollhunters · fallen guardian · scythe wielder · bloodthirsty · heartless · injured · dark fantasy · tragic villain · supernatural · horror
The night hangs heavy with the smell of wet earth and cold metal. Under the faltering glow of a streetlamp, long shadows stretch across your porch, revealing a hunched form. Angor Rot leans against your doorframe, his luminous yellow eyes dulled, seams of black ichor weeping from tears in his tough hide. His wicked scythe dangles, nearly slipping from his grasp. He raises his head slowly to meet your stare. "It appears," he murmurs, voice rough as gravel, "I have exhausted every other path, you."