During the Long Centuries when Dark Unklar held the world in
a wintry grasp they world failed. The dwarves closed their doors and the elves, made
homeless, fled to Fey. Many more fled to their dying halls, to lay with fear
and serve as slaves to the evil might.
Not so the northmen! They raged against the Shroud of
Darkness; the snow held no fear for them and they made war upon the shores of
Winter’s Dark. From the realms of Trondheim,
Haltland, and Holmgald they came. Mounted on sleds, pulled by giant elk, riding
bears, and wolves they crossed the frozen seas. Their war, they carried in iron;
long-hafted battle axes, broad-bladed swords; round shields studded in iron and
mail of woven chain. They reaped a red harvest wherever they went, feasting
upon the Lords of Winter’s Dark.
Into this never ending war came Freyleif Winter’s Song,
daughter of King Frimr Ironthumb of the Trond. Her beauty no man could deny. Autumn locks of golden hair fell upon firm, supple shoulders. Small but
bold, armored in plates of iron and leathers, she saw all things near and far
through eyes as blue as sun smitten ice. Upon her brow she wore a black
half-helm with a long plume. In her hands she carried two hammers of iergild
metal, each marked with rune lore. She lay into all her foes with the iron
bound hammers, battering skulls to red ruin and turning bones to shards.
But her power lay not in her beauty, nor in her armor, nor
arms, but rather in her gods. For Freyleif carried with her the tokens of the old religion, books of renown, that harkened back to a greater time, when thesun shone in all its glory. With iron, she wrought ruin upon her foes and with
thunder’s song summoned the gods to crush the hell-spawn of Unklar’s making.
Her power waxed great, even before her 25th year,
when she road a great elk to the Wasting
Way and followed that dread path to fell Aufstrag,
Unklar’s abode. For days she fought her way across that wild causeway, until
all her companions lay dead or lost along the way and she alone stood. From the
gates issued a great host of men and beasts and they made war on her alone. But
none could break her song for her’s was a power beyond Winter.
Whatever became of Freyleif none may say, but men call to her when the winter's storms are thick; they call to her to open a path through the cold and dark with her winter's song.
Whatever became of Freyleif none may say, but men call to her when the winter's storms are thick; they call to her to open a path through the cold and dark with her winter's song.
3 comments:
Very cool story. I have to wonder if it was based on a actual campaign. That would be totally cool it it was
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