Odin, King of the Gods, Allfather of Vanaheim once trod this soil. When he did ravens circled above. Appearing as an elderly man, cloaked by a dark hood, with a long, grey, beard and an eye concealed by a length of cloth, he walked with a mighty longsword in his withered hands. He walked through the lands until he reached the Palace of Skrogni, a magnificent hall built around an ancient tree that was said to have grown from the magical branches of Yggdrasil. The large tree grew into the centre of the hall, untamed by the wooden walls around it. A night of celebrating and merrymaking echoed in the hall. Where King Skrogni boasted of the deeds of his ancestors. Suddenly, the doors blew open with a howl of the wicked wind, the crowd parted like a sea of fear. Despite not being incredibly tall or menacing, his appearance was enough to send mortals to their knees. Barefoot, he walked across the stone slabs until he reached the base of the tall tree. Where Odin drew the sword and thrust it's hilt deep into the tree trunk. Turning to the mortals, cowering before him, Odin boomed "He who pulls the sword free from it's prison, be he worthy, shall possess the power of the vanir, shall be a demigod walking this mortal plane, shall be the true king of man!"
Generations had passed since the night of Odin's decree. Enough generations for the Skrogni bloodline to fall. Son after son failing to prove himself worthy to claim the sword. Without it the ancestral kingdom was lost to the ages. What was once a mighty kingdom was now a godforsaken land plagued by all manner of evil. Man had given up hope to repair the wound. But there was one, one man brave enough to stand, brave enough to try, brave enough to prove himself worthy.
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Unworthy
FantasyA Norse warrior, determined to prove himself worthy of claiming an ancient sword, ventures to a cursed shore to purged a haunted lighthouse of dark influences, where he faces the fight not only for his life but for all life.
