Cold air hangs on the edge of the forest Moorsfest, were
the trees begin to thin and the younger saplings nearly buried in the new
fallen snow. The moon shines upon the
land a glaring white light, the snow glitters under it immenseness. It looks magical the snow covered earth, as
Urringår guides the forest boundaries.
She carries with her a hammer and an axe made in the smithies of
Räasvoarbörg by Grimmodhr Troll, from long ago. Our troll was big and strong a warrior of high regard among the
forest folk, her flame red hair and piercing black eyes always alert. Watched and took in what surrounded her, her
gaze turned to Midvaard the ugly rowdy settlement of King Guthwyn. The inn was busy full of noise and its
cacophony could be heard far and wide, across what had been a silent place
during nighttime. Urringår looked upon
it was disdain and contempt. She
watched the place looking at it until it became just a distant blurred noise,
it would seem no nocturnal attacks were going to occur this night. The folk of Midvaard were drinking! Toward the vast mountains in the north
Räasvoarbörg, little green flickers began to appear like candle light. Slowly it started to rise expanding and
twisting a majestic site recoiling green and blue moving above in space,
lighting up the deep pendulous sky and the snowy land below. Its unending beauty spellbound our troll;
she stood transfixed watching and communicating with it and all the time
learning from the aurora. It guided the
trolls and the other forest folk and Laarg too all linked with it in the wheel
of nature.
#Note# the spelling of Räasvoarbörg is an
improvement on its original, it reads better and feels that it fits in with the
nature of what is trying to be achieved with these stories and lyrics.
