K
Kharok Svark
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http://camelot-europe.goa.com/news/newsarticle.php3?id_article=1301
"By the fault of the father of monsters, the dead slave gave birth and fled the frozen lands of wolf wheat. By the wrath of iron, the one that dwells beyond the gaping rock must take him back and once again jail him in his domain. By the will of the hung iron, if she were to fail, the father of the Forseti would be freed. The slave and its treacherous descendants made a terrible realm with the flesh of the first giant who loses himself in his blood for three times nine years, and hidden there he wallows in his usurped non-life. Short is the time that remains to bring him back to the sister of the dire destiny of the one handed iron."
Stroking his beard unconsciously, the dwarf set down the rune covered parchment. Mumbling to himself in his dispensary, he drew deep into his memories to find a meaning to the sibylline remarks.
"Obviously, the meaning is hidden behind a wall of kennings. My good old Doinord, it is time to show those mockers who do not appreciate or understand the importance of tavern talk. While sipping beer and hearing skalds play with words, one soon becomes wise ! The father of monsters, without a doubt this is that old troublemaker Loki. The dead slave, hmm, let's leave that one for later. The wolf wheat, the nice harvest of death that it is, and the frozen lands of the dead, well that can only be Nifleheim. The gaping rock, yes I see, that must be a reference to Gnipahellir, and the one that dwells beyond is Hel of course. The hung iron, accepting the meaning of this heiti, is obviously the one eyed god. The father of the Forseti is none other than Balder the perfect. Some flesh of the first giant, hmm, if it is Ymir, then it is a piece of earth that is being referred to. Loses itself in its blood, therefore in the sea, so it is most certainly an island !"
The dwarf stops his reflections for an instant as he takes a long swig of his ale. Clucking his tongue in his mouth, he suddenly slams down his now empty pitcher of ale and continues his reading.
"The one handed, I can only see Tyr in this role, and Fenrir twice in his dire destiny. The sister of Fenrir, well that's Hel also. So much for the kennings, I can't see anything more clearly . What horrible thing could have escaped from Nifleheim to make Odin threaten to force the Nornes to lie ? Unless he wants to motivate their searches through fear ? Well, it is once more Loki's fault, may poison fill his wounds !""
In an enraged state, the dwarf hurls the crumpled parchment across the room. Grumbling, he fishes out an earthen pipe from a pocket and hurriedly fills it with strong smelling herbs. Having lit it at the hearth which warms the room, he moves towards the window, a pensive look on his face.
"It is now clear that it is help Hel is asking for through her spirits of Albion. Their appearance which had fooled us at first is in fact a clear sign. So, the Frostbarn Faste saga would in effect hold truths that we so clumsily neglected to see. However, the one that hides behind the kenning 'dead slave', is he one of these spirits, or is his origin even more ancient ?"
Outside rain was falling, and the merchants were putting up covers over their wares. Disappearing in the clouds of smoke coming from his pipe, the dwarf continued his reflections silently, his brow creased by worry.
http://camelot-europe.goa.com/news/newsarticle.php3?id_article=1301
"By the fault of the father of monsters, the dead slave gave birth and fled the frozen lands of wolf wheat. By the wrath of iron, the one that dwells beyond the gaping rock must take him back and once again jail him in his domain. By the will of the hung iron, if she were to fail, the father of the Forseti would be freed. The slave and its treacherous descendants made a terrible realm with the flesh of the first giant who loses himself in his blood for three times nine years, and hidden there he wallows in his usurped non-life. Short is the time that remains to bring him back to the sister of the dire destiny of the one handed iron."
Stroking his beard unconsciously, the dwarf set down the rune covered parchment. Mumbling to himself in his dispensary, he drew deep into his memories to find a meaning to the sibylline remarks.
"Obviously, the meaning is hidden behind a wall of kennings. My good old Doinord, it is time to show those mockers who do not appreciate or understand the importance of tavern talk. While sipping beer and hearing skalds play with words, one soon becomes wise ! The father of monsters, without a doubt this is that old troublemaker Loki. The dead slave, hmm, let's leave that one for later. The wolf wheat, the nice harvest of death that it is, and the frozen lands of the dead, well that can only be Nifleheim. The gaping rock, yes I see, that must be a reference to Gnipahellir, and the one that dwells beyond is Hel of course. The hung iron, accepting the meaning of this heiti, is obviously the one eyed god. The father of the Forseti is none other than Balder the perfect. Some flesh of the first giant, hmm, if it is Ymir, then it is a piece of earth that is being referred to. Loses itself in its blood, therefore in the sea, so it is most certainly an island !"
The dwarf stops his reflections for an instant as he takes a long swig of his ale. Clucking his tongue in his mouth, he suddenly slams down his now empty pitcher of ale and continues his reading.
"The one handed, I can only see Tyr in this role, and Fenrir twice in his dire destiny. The sister of Fenrir, well that's Hel also. So much for the kennings, I can't see anything more clearly . What horrible thing could have escaped from Nifleheim to make Odin threaten to force the Nornes to lie ? Unless he wants to motivate their searches through fear ? Well, it is once more Loki's fault, may poison fill his wounds !""
In an enraged state, the dwarf hurls the crumpled parchment across the room. Grumbling, he fishes out an earthen pipe from a pocket and hurriedly fills it with strong smelling herbs. Having lit it at the hearth which warms the room, he moves towards the window, a pensive look on his face.
"It is now clear that it is help Hel is asking for through her spirits of Albion. Their appearance which had fooled us at first is in fact a clear sign. So, the Frostbarn Faste saga would in effect hold truths that we so clumsily neglected to see. However, the one that hides behind the kenning 'dead slave', is he one of these spirits, or is his origin even more ancient ?"
Outside rain was falling, and the merchants were putting up covers over their wares. Disappearing in the clouds of smoke coming from his pipe, the dwarf continued his reflections silently, his brow creased by worry.
