A Myth of Origin
Almanac of Adventures, written by Frøydis Dreikedottír
XVI. Volume, page 971
Many years ago, hundreds infact, there lived a man in Firnstayn with red hair and blue eyes and his name was Mandred Torkildson. He was a great warrior and the Jarl of the settlement, answering to the King of Dale only. The weapon he would wield was an axe; many foes he had slain, so that he had heaped much honor upon his line. The days of Mandred were light, for his wife Ragnvé expected a child.
Now it befell the settlement of Firnstayn that a giantess with the name Sylgja terrorized the surrounding land and she had taken away so some townsman already to devour them. Closer and closer did the giantess dare to come to Firnstayn. Jarl Mandred decided that it was time to face the monster and with five of his best warriors he set out to slay Sylgja.
But in battle, Sylgja was a terrible enemy. All of Mandred's friends were killed by her strikes and the Jarl himself was wounded. Through the snow of the harsh winter he crawled away to light the beacon on a cliff that would warn Firnstayn and ready them should the giantess decide to execute her revenge.
As he reached the cliff however, the rock must have broken away, for the prepared wood for the beacon was gone.
So he fell down, through blood loss and the cold, between four high erected stones. Their surfaces were adorned with strange interlacing patterns and figurines that rode on white steeds with golden hart antlers; their weapon was the bow and the spear.
It was told by the wandering bards that these stones were in truth cursed warriors of the Ælfwicce, the Elves. They had to endure the time set into stone until the land would be in danger, so that they would awake to defend it. Between these stones, Mandred was overcome by sleep.
But the man was not dead.
When he woke, he lay beneath a grand tree, higher and with a larger crown of leaves and branches than he had ever seen before. And this tree spoke. Guðþorn was his name, through his roots upon which Mandred lay, he imbued the man with new life, prolonged him beyond the reaches of death.
Mandred seemed to have passed into the realms of the Ælfwicce, for they found him and brought him to their Queen. On Mandred's later account, she was tall grown and terrible and beautiful as she was to behold: Skin so pale like snow and her eyes an icy stare of frost; Her smile a friendly greeting or the indication of one's death.
The Jarl asked the Ælfwicce for their aid against the giantess Sylgja but the Queen would only grant it to him, if he would give her his first born son. Desperate as the man was, he agreed.
So was the Elf-Hunt commenced. On white steeds they rode forth to hunt the giantess. But Sylgja was cunning. She lured the Ælfwicce and slew many of them. Also Mandred she beguiled as one night he faced her alone. Ere Sylgja was then finally brought to her end, she bore a daughter and this daughter also was Mandred's. Turið, she was called and she was cast into the wild by the Ælfwicce, for they could not slay her through their pity. Her form was crippled - but her mind of good kindness and she would yet play a role in this legend.
At the hour of Sylgja's death, the Queen of the Ælfwicce appeared before the gate of Firnstayn and she demanded the first born son Olavr from Ragnvé as Mandred had not yet returned. Robbed of her child, Ragnvé cursed her husband that he entered such a pact and she threw herself off the cliff where the four high-erected stones stood.
The Jarl returned now to Firnstayn. Finding his son gone and his wife dead, he was befallen by great grief.
Years passed into the lands, Mandred grew old and knowing of his dwindling strength, a young dragon female, Ásvör began to wreak terror on Firnstayn, eager for the gold that the men had hoarded during their battles with the men of the East.
His age was too great as that he could have stood against the monster alone, so that he went to the Ælfwicce once more to ask them for their aid. There he met his son, whom he had called Olavr, but the Ælfwicce had given him the name Núramar. Only to that name he would hearken and he was dressed in white silk and silver and would appear more like one of their kin than like a child of Mankind.
Olavr and his father set out to kill Ásvör. The Jarl fell to the claws of the beast and his son was mesmerized by the look of the young dragon, so that he would fall for her. Just like his father before, Olavr spawned a child with Ásvör, ere the dragon flew off at the coming of the Ælfwicce who sought for the young man.
This child, a son, called Heðinn grew up. He became a man most beautiful during the time that Olavr was now the Jarl of Firnstayn, but as beautiful he was, so cruel and cold was he. He would find delight in suffering and agonizing those that stood beneath him. One fateful day, he slew Olavr, assumed the High Chair of Firnstayn's Mead-Hall and he cut all bonds of friendship that would have existed with the Ælfwicce and his father.
On a nigh winter's day, Heðinn rode out to hunt alone. Within the deep woods of the north he met a crippled and weak woman and she yielded her name to him, saying she would be called Turið.
He took her with him to Firnstayn and made her a slave, forced himself upon her and made her miserable for her growth whenever it would lie in his mood or amusement. Poor Turið could not avail his strength with her frail bones that he could easily shatter.
Alas it was in a night after feast and battle that Heðinn had dimmed his mind with the heavy mead. His eyes did not perceive the knife of Turið ere it was too late. Dead he lay on the floor and so ended the short reign of terror of Heðinn, whom they call the Greedy and Cruel.
The people of Firnstayn offered Turið the High Chair, saying they trusted in her good being that resembled the kind heart of Mandred Torkildson, but the woman denied the honor and left the seat to Eiríkr, whose line continued till the present day.
Turið bore a son and through Heðinn's forceful but strong blood, he was no cripple. His name was Ævarr and he had a son called Hrani.
Hrani married Ingileif and she gave life to Tryggvi, who was renowned for his strength. Also Tryggvi had a son and he was named Torgrid. He would take Gjaflaug as wife and together they had a daughter whom they named Skjalddís, known as the Fire-Drake and the wielder of Nothung, bearer of the girdle Norðurreim, both forged in the fires of Dwarf Regún of the Lonely Mountain.
Also Skjalddís bore a child, but with a man who shall not be named, for he was a betrayer and liar, having forsaken her as he learned that she carried a child beneath her heart. No tale would ever tell of him.
This child was I however: Frøydis. And they call me Dreikedottír; the Dragon-Daughter.
OOC - Themes of Inspiration:
Ar-Pharazôn and Miriel
The Beowulf-Saga
The Saga of Sigurd and Gudrun
Various Tales of the Æsir of Norse Mythology
