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July 29, 2007, 9:08 pm

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The Second War of Flesh

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His words were weighted the salt from a voyage made once hundreds of years ago, but a thousand times in his heart only yesterday. The children were intrigued, they knew this would be a new story…

Plot points for temporary veiw:
1. Sveigthir’s gifts for Agliss & Slagfidd, search for the gift for Varland.
2. Failed to find gift for Varland, Varland’s experimentation with mechanics.
3. Gift of Sveigthir’s soul. Forging of Nothung.
4. Destruction of Nothung, banishment of Varland.
5. Construction of the first Alfödt, reforging of Nothung.
6. War between Agliss & Varland.
7. Fleeing of Agliss’ sons, Refusal of Sladfinn and his son to leave.
8. Aftermath (Alfheim Burned, Alfödt threat, Descendants of elven kings and their nations.)

Grandfather glanced about the children gathered before him, making sure neither younglings nor humans were present. He coughed lightly before resting his thousand-year-old body in his ten thousand-year-old chair. Grandfather’s voiced gently scratched its way into the the ears of those present, "Settle down boys and girls, settle down.

"Today I am not going to tell you a story dragons, nor men, nor elves like us, nor heroes," Grandfather noted the dissapointed sighs of the children, "Today I speak of kings. Not of the kings of men who sit on their thrones and fatten themselves off their people’s barren teats, but the old kings, our kings who fought and died for their people alongside them.

"The tale begins when my grandfather sat me on his lap, and told me tales, though I could barely utter a word myself. It begins with the Forge King Sveigthir and his three sons, Agliss the brave and strong, Slagfidd the wise and honest, and Varland, gifted in the forge. Sveigthir was greatly pleased with his sons, and awarded countless gifts upon them, saving the most important gifts of all for their one hundredth birthdays.

"To Agliss, Sveigthir gave the magical spear Gungnir, forged by the finest smiths from Adamant and sunbeams, so he could have a weapon as ferocious as himself. To Slagfidd, Sveigthir gave the iron shoes Vidar and Tidar, cobbled by the finest cobblers from lead and the leather of lindworms, so that he might have shoes as steadfast as himself. For Varland, Sveigthir could find no gift, and this bothered the king greatly. Varland himself did not seem to mind, but Sveigthir devoted himself to finding a gift for the youngest of his sons.

"One hundred years passed, and then two hundred, and still Sveigthir could find no gift for his son. Then another hundred years passed, and then another two hundred, and still Varland had no gift. It finally came to Sveigthir’s deathbed, before Agliss would be crowned King, that Sveigthir bestowed upon Varland the greatest and most cursed gift of all, his soul."

Again, grandfather paused, letting the shock slowly wear off the crowd. "Of course, Agliss and Slagfidd objected, how could they have their own father break the cycle of souls? Varland, too, was shocked, but he knew his father would not be satisfied without being able to give one final gift. For acepting, however, the newly crowned Agliss banished his brother to the far north.

"Varland Wandered ‘til even the sun seemed a cold and distant star, stopping only when he found a mountain as black as the as the breath of a muderous nightwind. This, Varland knew, was Carmot, the metal of death. Immediately, Varland saw what he must do. In order to regain his right has a son of Sveigthir, he must remake Sveigthir. From lichen and bone he built his fire, from rock he took his anvil, and from the vapors of his fathers soul, and the blood-black earth of the mountain, he forged an oathsword, and named it Nothung, so that even the gods could not deny him his task.

"Over the years Varland slowly built is forge, winning the help and trust of the wild and primitives elves of the north by teaching them magicks long ago cast away by our people. But Agliss had not turned a blind eye to his brother…



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Random Idea Seed View All Idea Seeds

       By: EchoMirage

Imagine a tribe of nomads where all the males have the blessing of being were-stallions. The tribe would not need to have ordinary horses to move around, all mounted warriors would be female and a curious custom could be that when a couple gets married, the girl rides her chosen to the altar.

Ideas  ( Society/ Organization ) | July 3, 2004 | View | UpVote 1xp


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