The men of the North are stereotyped as tall, fierce near-pagans, only recently and imperfectly reclaimed by the holy Word into God's grace.  Memories still run deep of the terrible Norse seafarers, who set themselves a-viking across much of Europe until only the last century.

Einarr Ogmundsson gives the impression of every Irish monk's nightmare come to mighty-thewed, broad-shouldered life, and magnified in the process of incarnation.  Well over seven feet in height, the blond giant towers even over his compatriots, with breadth of frame and thickness of muscle to match.  Clearly of martial calling, Einarr bears his ring-maille haubergeon - supplemented by demi-pauldrons and a pair of splinted lower cannons - with a light ease.  Under his armor he wears a hooded robe, with the hood habitually casting his face into shadow.

If the short spikes on his demi-pauldrons and gauntleted left fist seem daunting, it is his weaponry that truly gives pause to those who would waylay him as he travels, for the dark-hafted polearm in his grip is massive, as if sized for an ogre's hands rather than those of a lesser being.  The polearm's blade has a long, curved cutting edge, a hook at its back and a protruding spike; those familiar with weaponry will identify it as a slightly modified and significantly enlarged Norse 'höggspjót' ('slaughtering-spear').  A battleaxe, expertly manufactured in the Danish 'breiðöx' ('broad-axe') style and of similarly mighty proportions, rests in a loop at Einarr's belt.

And yet, for all that his martial equipment suggests a complete devotion to the art and practice of war, there is more to Einarr than fighting.  Over his armor, he wears the white surcoat of the Knights of the Order of the Holy Ghost, with the blue double-lined cross that has served as the emblem of the Knights Arcane for the past decade.  Like many of his fellow brother-knights, Einarr is a scholar as well as a warrior, and there is something in his bearing, in the alert tilt of his head, in the precise gestures of his hand, that speaks of his dedication to concerns beyond the battlefield.

Disdaining a steed, Sir Einarr du Nord jokes that his Christian charity prohibits him from inflicting his weight on some poor beast's back.  In truth, he simply prefers to travel and fight on foot, despite the entitlement of his rank; an eccentricity to be sure, but then, the Knights Arcane are notorious for their breaks with tradition.  At least the Knights' religious bona fides is not in question, and their oddities pale in comparison to those of the sundry Church-sanctioned spellcasters whom they often accompany on and off the field.