∂ursofrinnsaga

∂ursofrinnsaga

The giants groan. || The wild warrior

has gained the field. || Upon the outcrop

stands the soldier, || hammer-ready, hard.

Wrathful in war-gear || countenance kept

hidden by helm. || Ivaldr son of Ivar,

champion of the king, || hefts the Hammer.

Shafts of shining || light lancing

from golden grip, || forward steps

the son-slayer. || Crying children

are the giants. || Helgar Styrkhjalm,

king’s consort, || unsheathes her sword.

Together triumphant || advance the heroes

against the enemy. || Fergum Flametongue

rises to resist || them. Throwing

boulder brought || from side of mountain.

The Hammer howls || and splits asunder

the rumbling rock. || False friends,

the giant folk. || ‘neath borrowed banners

had they hallward come || to ask the eldest

son of Stone || to write them weapons

of steel and sorrel, || of gem and grit.

Hilts were hewn || from icy iron

and shields struck || to tower tall.

Baldr-king had then bestowed || on them offerings

of war weapons. || To son of Stone

they pledged friendship || for fierce fighting

they had to do. || Urhame stood spoiling

for brutal battle || with puissant Pernag.

Two tribes || of great giants

one grown grief-ful || one mad with murder.

But Baldr first || found Urhame’s word

so for Baal’al || Baldr cast his coin,

cursed coin || wielded for war.

Baal’al was king || of evil Urhame

and trusted only treasons || to win his wars.

His reavers raped || his cousin’s cities

of potent Pernag. || Urhame-usurper

the Pernag people || called that king.

To Baldr bravely || Pernag’s people

pled their plea. || Baal’al bellowed

that he should not take them. || Baldr blanched

not to aid the ailing. || Through hidden halls

he saved the suffering || and Pernag’s peoples

fled Urhame’s fires. || Baal’al nightly brooded

on ways to weaken, || to destroy the dwarves.

For Baldr had taken || the kin of the king

from Pernag’s ruin || but they boasted blood

that could kill Baal’al || and end Urhame.

“Pernag’s princes,” || bade king Baal’al

“have to be handed || into my keeping.”

“I destroyed dragons,” || spake son of Stone,

“I fear no fires || of grasping giants.

Our friendship falters, || it is broken, Baal’al.

You are a usurper. || True-born tyrant,

fiery fiend, || false friend.”

Gainst giant strength || a gate may give.

Many halls they harrowed || as they searched for sons

of Pernag’s lord. || But dwarf-king Baldr

could stand not by || and grant the giants

the freedom to set fires || in the halls of Harnholme.

Against common enemy || stood tolfolk and strangers


the giants of Pernag || made fast their friendship


yet their numbers were sadly || not great enough.


For fierce fiery foes || had come to the Harnholme,


and in high hills || did dragons still dwell.


Baal’al bade the wyrmfolk, || wise in the slaughter


of sons of the stone, || to make common mis’ry


of dwarf-halls their cause. || Darkness descended


as demonic bargains || were struck gainst the people


of Baldr, bold king. || So too came the Ogres


and terrible troll-folk. || Overrun were the folk-halls;


the dead left to fester, || their spirits full shamed


by the ill grace of giants. || The Stonemother sorrowed.


The Earthfather wept. || The warriors donned war-gear


the women their weapons, || the wealth of the slaughter.


Baldr-king fought || with woeful blade


and Dalnr, Recorder || of tales fought too,


took up the battle. || And there at last


stood there Ivaldr, || heroic in stature.


With him marched Helgar, || bed-mate to Baldr,


defender of dwarves. ||  The dragons now drive


the giants onwards. || Baal’al flicks his whip.


Frost there and fire || are all arrayed


against them. || A cracking crashes


through ranks of the foemen; || Fergum the Flametongue


is laid out for the grave. || “Send me another,”


Ivaldr swears in a shout || and Baal’al obeys.


Wyrmcry rips || through mountain mists

and thund’rous monster || tumbles toward the heroes.


Helgar cries out, || a blooming of breath


of potent poisons || covers champion and queen.


Symesh the Green, || sovereign of swamplands


folk-foe and ruiner, || reaver and ravager,


who had slain Ragnar, || and all of his kin


now swoops from the heavens || to humble the heroes.


No movement nor motion || Helgar betrays.


But Hammer-strong Ivald || stands like the stone.


Son of the sword || truly is he!


His heart heavy with murder, || the Hammer protects him.


Rage! Rage rumbles forth || frothing in madness.


As bold Baldr weeps || for his fallen mistress.


Ivald’s eyes are as ice || and shuddering screams


flow forth from his lips. || He has no shadow;


his Hammer finds home || in foul Symesh’s scales.


His shrieks shatter hard-hearts || break boldness to pieces.


He teaches them fear. || Now forward comes king,


his ancient axe answers || his tally of grief.


The dragon is driven || to the lands of the lifeless.


It’s poisons spill silent || as Eiri’s axe ends it.


Gutted it lies, || a warning to giants.


Now comes the splitter, || the sky-sunderer Vorone,


wyrm-prince whose belly || holds bright bale-fire.


From his lips lick lightening || into Ivaldr,


but still the dwarf stands. || “Send me your giants!,”


the champion demands || “enough weakling dragons!”


He lets fly the Hammer || into the heavens.


The waster of halls || is smote in the breast.


The smasher of cities || flies no further.


He who slew Harfn || and buried the Brandhal


in mountains of corpses || is himself slain.


The Hammer flies home now || to Ivaldr’s right hand.

Now through the army || angry, yet artful,


emerges the enemy || the king of the kin-slayers.


Baldr and Baal’al || king facing king.


But the dwarf-lord’s strength || cannot stand gainst a giant


and the king of the kin-reavers || crushes him to earth.


The tree-tall hammer || in enemy’s hand


smashes the kingly || son of the stone.


Dwarf-work, that weapon, || given in gladness


now unmakes its maker. || But no hand ever crafted


the ever-strong Hammer || save Eiri’s alone.


As king-kin is crushed || by Baal’al’s cruel sledge


the other sings sweetly || a song of slaying.


Out from his eyes || goes the light of Baal’al


his burning gaze snuffed || like the life of the king.


Ivaldr has triumphed, || the army rejoices.


But there on the stone, || lies the king and his queen.

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∂ursofrinnsaga

Abridged History of the 10th Age Idabrius