"An inspiring tale, (for one told while half drunk on ale). But am I really the only one to doubt the likeliness of these strange events?"
Dexto Hops Puddlefoot, proud owner of the Toppled Turtle Tavern.
______________________________________________________________________
"The Return of Fáfnir"
Long ago in frozen wastes,
Came the wandering Dwarves with haste.
Once it lay a barren Moor,
Now was home to folk of Þjórr,
Though many foes would seek to slay,
The Dwarves of yore would win the day.
There they sat for one great feast,
As finally seemed their battles ceased.
Alas, upon a winters night,
The horns of battle called to fight,
All the Dwarves with sharpened spears,
Readied quick to face their fears.
Slithering up the great stone stairs
Came the Wyrm of great nightmares,
Fáfnir Cold Drake of the North,
Slaying Dwarrows he came forth!
Thrice he called for great King Þjórr,
And thrice he let out a great roar!
A warrior stood there undefied,
His eyes were fierce, and great with pride,
And there the Wyrm stood for the kill,
But then his gaze went to the hill,
There the great King stood on high.
To face his foe, the great Wyrm sly!
There he held his hammer bold,
To be the bane of evil cold.
His eyes were red with hatred hot,
As there he struck the beast he fought.
Cold the sting, of Dwarven blade
Left the great sly snake unmade.
There the King would breathe his last,
Crushed beneath the Dragon vast,
And once again the Dwarves of Þjórr,
Were left to wander, as before.
Though great the victory was that day,
In darkness would their halls decay.
-As recorded by Þrauka Frost-Hammer
