The Gods of the North: Forged in Ash and Blood

## To Forge the World- From Ash and Blood and Bone

In the beginning there was cold, and the howling of an infinite wasteland. Cold white and dead grey, unchanging and bleak beyond imagination. The ash of a dead world that came before, burnt to death in a glorious war beyond imagination, was the beginning of our own. Amidst these ashes, embers sparked. Fire ignited, and the victor of that world ending war awoke anew. He was Hilios, and in him was the flame of creation. The heat of passion. The ember of rebirth; and from him, was reborn life. He rose and grasped anew his blade, wrenching it from the dead earth.

He surveyed the world his battles had won him, having slept to recover from his wars amidst the ash, and saw the shapes of those he had defeated lain about it. Bloated monsters born of their corpses, and the cold white wastes. The Jotuns, who were born from the bitterness of the defeated. Hilios strode forth and cut them apart, then breathed upon the places where their blood touched the ashes. The heat of his breath turned it to clay, and from this did he craft the flesh of we, the men of the North; the men of Vetur, of His Land. Here, we were born; first children of the Allfather, and most favored, for in us is his fire, his breath, and his passion for war.

From their bones he made the mountains, and from their flesh he made the animals his people would sustain themselves upon. From the ash and cinder of a dead world and the corpses of his enemies, he crafted a land to live in and a people to rule- but in these actions, he also breathed life back into his ancient foes. The Jotuns drew breath anew, brought back by the conflict and passion- but now they where the world's bones, the land beneath our feet, the sky above our heads and the ground we tilled.

### The Vision of Tomorrow- The Land Turns against Man

Hilios had by then taken a wife from among his people, as he ruled them from the roof of the world where he had built his palace. Her name was Sankari, and she was the mightiest of the firstborn in body, and in her did his fire burn most brightly. They say her eyes were like motes of flame, and her hair golden as the sun. It was her eyes, burning like flame, that first saw what was to come- the gift of prophecy born of the flame within her.

She saw that the Jotuns would turn their new bodies against the Firstborn, and would birth in other, weaker lands, their own children to usurp the Firstborn. She shared her vision with Hilios, and in his wisdom he took up his blade again. Yggdrasil, the blade with which he won the world in the time before, was once more risen as he thrust it into the roof of the world, the heart of our land.

By dint of his ember and the spark of his divinity, it served as the seed of a mighty tree, from which would grow the World Tree. Through this tree, his will grew unto the world- pouring into it anew, and forcing the Jotuns who had been reborn as the land back under his control within Vetur.

In its boughs he built his palace anew, and amidst its branches he and his wife chose to dwell, surveying the world from amidst its heights that they might forever watch for the Jotuns actions and deeds; that his old enemies would never resurface in their cold malice.

Thus, though they could bring about winter and make life harsh for those dwelling upon their flesh, the Jotuns where suborned- forced to kneel before their rightful conqueror, who permits them only enough wickedness that we do not grow soft and weak.

 **Birth of the Three Gods**

Then he turned to his wife and asked what boon she wished for warning him of the dangers to come. She asked him for children, that their legacy might continue beyond their deeds. And so where born Armo, Raivotar, and Viisaus. Armo the Graceful, whose beauty and agility are the stuff of legends. Armo, who raced against the rays of the Sun and triumphed. Raivotar, the Fury of the Divine whose wrath foretells Ragnarok. Raivotar, who wrestled with the mountains and cast them down to make valleys. And last but not least, Viisaus the Wise, whose eyes see all and whose mind orders all things. Viisaus, who forged the weapons of the gods, and Gungnir, which replaced the lost Yggdrasil their father had cast aside.

Thus where the Gods born, by the blood of Hilios mixed with the spark of flame he had given his firstborn. And then, as he stared over his new kingdom and saw that others where arising from the Jotuns buried beneath the earth, he smiled. Then was the first and most important proclamation made as he sat upon his throne atop the world tree.

 **The Grand Proclamation**

***“Let the world never know peace. Let my children wage war eternal against the children of the Jotuns. Let those born of my victory wage battle unending against those born of the defeated. Let the flame in the hearts of men burn bright, and let them shine like stars amidst the night. Let them do wondrous things, and fight wondrous battles! Let them be like I, who was forged in fire and born of conflict! Let them bicker and battle- and let the tests never end, till another raises his blade and burns the world to cinder, that all might once more be reborn! Come!”***

And thus was his will. That the Jotuns spawn monsters from the land to wage battle upon us. That lesser races, unknown to his spark and fire, be born in other lands to wage war upon us. Perhaps some he even shares his breath with, that they might provide worthy foes! Thus was his edict, as the High King and Allfather, that forever shall there be war. And let the Victor of All Wars, the one who stands undefeated at the end, burn the world to cinder as he once did- that the next might be born from the ash anew.

Let the wheel turn on and on, fire and ash and blood and battle against the cold darkness! Let the night never fall eternal that it might not be burnt away by the fire in your veins! Sing, laugh, be merry- for every day is a battle against the cold! Let your life be wild and free, your heart noble and savage, and your blade mighty and triumphant! Be you graceful, wise, or mighty- let your veins burn with the fire of the Gods!

And perhaps, if your might is true and your soul burns bright, you may one day stand amongst them- or in the place they once stood. In every impulse for glory, there is the light of the Gods, and the fire that wards away the coldness of nothingness.