#grímnir

[broomsick]

My Jólablót toasts

First is to Óðinn

A toast to Grímnir, He who grants knowledge and insight. A glass raised to the One-Eyed, the Chooser of the slain who teaches resilience. Mead drank in your honor, Valfǫðr, so that you may grant us victory and power. A toast to the spear-wielding Chieftain, so that He may ever rule on His hall of eternal feast and guide us through the next year. Great father, wise and silent, we look to you for victory. You have sacrificed yourself for knowledge, hanging on the branches of Yggdrasil for nine nights time, and so will we accept to face challenges in order to achieve our goals. Wandering Lord, we look to you for the power to strive for a good life. A toast to the Hooded One whose face is obscured, and may He share a drink with us. Hail!

Second to Freyr and Njörðr

 A toast to the fair gods of Vanaheim, the peacemakers, Yngvi-Freyr and His father Njörðr, to honor Their many gifts. For Freyr, who protects the harvest and brings upon merciful rains, we raise this glass. For Njörðr, who reigns over the seas and grants favorable winds, we raise this glass. We salute you and honor your presence so that you may keep a watchful eye on the land which gives us life. A toast for Freyr and Njörðr, to insure prosperity through the new year. Hail!

Third to the ancestors 

A toast to our dearly departed, to celebrate their lives and tell their stories. To those who left too soon, we raise a glass and vow to honor you. To those whose souls still seek to give advice, we raise a glass and welcome your guidance. We see and acklowledge presence. To our ancestors and to all that came before us: we acknowledge your lives and we acknowledge your departure. May you rest peacefully, in the gilded halls or by our side, for your victories are remembered. Hail!

[kitchen-light]

The nine stone packings at Götavi also raise an important and recurring component of the Viking mind: the sacred number. Nine - and its square root, three - appears numerous times in the mythological tales of the Norse. The sea-deities Aegir and Rán have nine daughters, the spirits of the waves; Heimdall has nine mothers; the giant Baugi has nine thralls; the beautiful Menglod has nine attendants; Gróa has nine protective charms; Odin has eighteen spells - twice nine; Thrivaldi, another giant who is slain by Thor, has nine heads. Freyr waits for his lover and later wife, Gerthr, for nine nights, the same length of time that Odin hangs on the tree in self-sacrifice, and sweats between the fires in 'Grímnir's Sayings', and makes his long ride to Hel on Sleipnir. In Valhöll, on every ninth night eight rings drop from the great gold ring, Draupnir (thus making nine in all), the source of Odin's wealth. The Muspell princess Laegjárn has a chest that must be closed with nine locks, one by one. The list goes on and on, and is replicated in the human world of Midgard: according to Adam [of Bremen] the great sacrifices at Uppsala last for nine days and are held every nine years, and nine creatures of each kind are killed. (In assessing the veracity of Adam's text, by the way, one might ask how he could have invented just that little detail to fit so well with wider picture he could not have known about.)

Neil Price, from Chapter 7 of “The Children of Ash & Elm | A History of the Vikings”, Penguin Books, 2020

[antiqueginger]

Soooo On account of Ao3 being fucking HATE CRIMED... Have the first 1600 words of Chapter 10 of Times Touch. @vulturevibes made me melt into goo with their tags so Yeah! I’m working on it now. Also please- I’m always down to scream about this story and my asks are open...

Just Saying.

Also this is raw and unedited. Even I haven't looked back on it since I put it all down soooo yeah

Hiccup grumbled as he maneuvered the forest. Of course he was looking for Jack because for once all the other Riders were so committed to doing the tasks they were already assigned in preparation for the storm season as well as the visitors they expected today. Hiccup could already feel the promise of an ache in his stump or maybe that was just from hiking for who knew how long in search of their lost traveling mischief maker. Though admittedly, Jack hadn’t been up to too much mischief lately. He had also been rather quiet…

Hiccup would still see him early in the morning perched in a tree whispering to nothing or hovering around the training area as Hiccup practiced. During the day, there weren't any more “escape” attempts. He was silent and brooding during the evening meals he did show up for. It had only been a few days but the island seemed greyer, duller, without Jack’s cheerful light.

It was obvious the others noticed it too. He had seen Astrid fussing over him and Fishlegs pulling him to his garden as the sun began to set. The twins had probably tried goading him into some other unseemly prank. Even Snotlout had laid off the attempts to convince Jack to spar.

Now, Jack had just disappeared entirely. He had slipped from his hut during the morning meal and never returned even with it being around midday. Part of Hiccup wondered if Jack even wanted to be found. Probably not. When Hiccup would slip away when he was younger he certainly didn’t.

But that man that they had met, the one that started all of this, weighed on Hiccup’s mind. The story Jack had told had clarified so much but left just as many questions. But that also didn’t meet the requirements Grímnir had set. Astrid knew that story didn’t she?

That choice he had mentioned when he saved his sister… Had Jack died? When he talked about it before, he only mentioned it as an accident but that couldn’t be all. That had to be when he became a spirit. Someone infused with magic that apparently talked to Gods regularly.

Hiccup had to pause at that. Jack was a spirit who hated lying and acknowledged someone he was terrified of as the All Father. The All Father, Flame Eyed, Beloved of Frigg. That was… a lot to wrap his head around. If that man was the Great Chieftain then did that mean that the woman in the market was actually-

Oh, that was not something he was ready for…

Lofn… The Comforter… The goddess that brought his parents together. Some said she was Frigg under another name but he never paid attention to any of those debates. He only saw the shrine his father kept for her. If Odin was Odin then she…

He leaned against a nearby tree as he reanalyzed their conversation. She had known Camicazi. She said that she was a Valkyrja but could that be trusted? If she was a goddess she would know how precious her memory was so she might say anything to get him to listen to her. She had also spoken of the Norns’ intention for him and called him “the Heart” Odin had mentioned him finding his heart too, right? Who was “the Blood” that she mentioned?

This was too much! He was already in the middle of some stupid war with Viggo and the hunters- but adding a crisis of faith to that. No, that wasn’t the right word. To be slammed with the fact that the gods were apparently real…

“You’ll soon meet someone special. Someone the likes of which you have never seen-” Those were her words. That was true enough. Jack was beyond comparison to anyone he’d met or would probably ever meet again. But the truth that “brought him into Hiccup’s arms”, if one could even say that, was still a mystery. Jack told Odin that whatever brought him here had messed with his memory. So yet another mystery. What else was it she’d said?

“The history you share but has not yet come to pass will be all you need. Trust Blood’s word and keep your memory sharp.”

He let out a heavy sigh. There wasn’t enough energy or time in the world to unpack that. Who was the Blood? He was about ready to pull his hair out when the most obvious answer hit him. Worse, It had literally landed at his feet not long ago.

The pendant that Jack said was a gift was his father had runes engraved on the back. The runes read Hofferson.

Lofn said that the blood had already been warned. Astrid was the first to see Jack. She also understood him in more ways than just language. Not to mention that they looked very similar other than their coloring. It would be easy to mistake them for family. They probably were family. Who knew with spirit logic.

“Come on-”

Hiccup jumped at the sudden cry.

He turned, peaking through the foliage and froze when he saw a small clearing surrounded with white bell-like flowers he’d only seen on the northernmost islands before. Two of the evergreen trees were connected with a hammock with one of the tree’s branches bowing with an unseen weight.

Jack stood at the center of the clearing with his arms extended to the branches. “You can’t still be angry at me.” He cooed. “I kept my promise”

The needles shivered as whatever was in the trees shifted. Jack’s low chuckle sent Hiccup’s stomach swooping. Gods, he was falling in love with Jack wasn’t he?

He quickly slammed the thought behind a wall. He wasn’t going to be a puppet in the Gods’ game. One was more than enough.

“Come on,” Jack whined, “The Ruvaak-Qo Rider still doesn’t know about you and I’m getting better at Dragonese. Let me see you.”

The dragon grunted and seemed to climb higher from the way the branches shifted. He saw Jack’s entire demeanor wilt.

“Pretty Girl,” he called softly as he stepped closer to the tree. “I didn’t know he was coming here. I didn’t know he actually paid attention to the people in his lands. If I knew I would have warned you but my powers aren’t what they used to be! I can’t just sense magic like that anymore!”

So, Jack could speak to dragons? Odin was talking about Jack. That meant he knew that Jack was there but the way they reacted to each other was strange… When Jack wasn’t in Odin’s sight he seemed content to have him there, but when he saw him he was hostile. Jack cowered from him as if Odin might strike any moment. It was just said that his magic wasn’t as strong as it was but surely without something big- First thing he mentioned was not being here by choice… Had he come to the archipelago before and gotten attacked?

The dragon snorted at him, the angry sound with a snapping branch sent Jack staggering to the side. Hiccup pressed himself against the tree’s rough bark and kept to the shadows. He wasn’t stalking or being a creep. He was just observing! He just needed to gather more information about Jack so he could maybe get closer. He wasn’t being a creep!

When Jack groaned and paced away, shedding his vest and lifting his tunic to wipe at his face. Hiccup was transfixed. His skin was so pale and almost completely unmarked. His torso seemed to span as a valley of alabaster. Hiccup wanted to get closer and trace his hands up his sides and over his chest- down his stomach. There seemed to be a thin black scar peeking from under the hem of his tunic curling over his ribs to his back. He wanted to trace it, ask how he got it. He wanted to know more about him. He wanted Jack to trust him…

Gods, he was being a creep!

He almost stepped out of the shadows when Jack huffed. He crossed to the hammock and leaned his back into the canvas. Hiccup could admit to being curious what kind of dragon Jack bonded with...

“Meoreia, I promise, I am trying to get it all right.” The whisper was so tired. He wished he didn’t understand.

The dragon purred a reassuring tone and for a moment a sleek white tail slid from the tree. It nudged at Jack’s face with a soft series of chirps.

“I know… I’m trying not to but look at me!” Jack threw a hand in the air and pet the tail. “I’m useless right now. I can’t summon my own ice or magic, the winds won’t listen to me, and I’m constantly pretending to be something I’m not. I’m lying to them.”

He sighed and looked up into the tree. His face twisted. “What’s with that look?”

The dragon huffed and pulled its tail back up into the tree. It tittered at him.

Whatever was said made Jack laugh and settle to sit on the hammock. “Now don’t be like that,” He snickered. “Come on, I’m not trying to get pity. I’m just… frustrated.”

The dragon chirped something that had Jack looking up sharply. “Oh!”

He stood and marched to the base of the tree. “That’s something coming from you!”

There was a loud yawn that had Jack's scowling until a playful smirk curved his mouth.

“Listen,” he said, only to speak another language entirely. “Hi wahlaan daar miraab, ful ni kos golah. Zu’u koraav Meoreia meyz gro fod koraav aan Ruvaak-Qo.”

[heathengentleman]

Aldafaðr, Wotan, Wodan, Grímnir, Odin, Hávi 

[human-antithesis]

Bituls skokra benvargs hreggjar á sér stað

Bituls skokra benvargs hreggjar á sér stað at manna ýta sjǫti þessa flein-galdrvala fóðrs. En sem Héðins drífa hefsk ber mannadýrs lund hettu-klæddan at friðbands stað ok mælir gegn þeim vápna hríð. Þá safnisk hvala herr at þessum syn-duga orms váða eiði fallina gilda ok afvega hjal-déls frǫmuðra. Mǫrg hjǫrþings bura hefr miklar mætr á Belja bǫlverðungar fjǫrspilli ok hafask við at hæða hristni fyrir manns mæli. Bǫðgarðar asks fjúkandi hamartrǫll þaggar Jesú þjóms rǫddu ok gunnelda buri veitir svá aldrtilan með sínum hví-nandi meginsára fárelding bengjálfars blágjóðra. Þegar Loka bǫlkveitir ferðask norðr eptir, Sólstillis vinr bróðir Hræstorðar asks fregnir af Hildagarðs hríðum sem fǫðr lýsu þriggjar, aski-askr er neyddr til hefnda ýta dróttins ástvinar aldar lofum. Brunns byrri val aldri án laga ok hjaldr mǫ́s krǫ́s aldri gley-misk. Þinn úhræddr herkju stormr, dýrðar váttr, skal atsótt þá mínar banvænu valdstǫðr mæta sárgeimi þínum. Hǫfnum, hǫlða reifir, hrafnblóts goða nafni, þess‘s ól við lof lýða lóm, ór heiðnum dómi. Mér skyli Freyr ok Freyja, fjǫrð lætk ǫðul Njarðar, lík-nisk grǫm við Grímni, gramr, ok Þór enn ramma; Krist vilk allrar ástar, erum leið sonar reiði, vald es á frægt und foldar eðr, einn ok goð kveðja. En þann næsta márreitar dag þat gamla úlfa ok ara ferðar ár, Rǫðuls tyggja vinr stefndi Krist limu at sækja laga heptenda hinstu ǫnd. Svana dals dǫgun skapa nokkrum síðar fer eski-askr suðr fyrir. Hljǫðvinja myrkbein marka komu kaldrar draum-Njǫrunar ok fylgjandi markar sunnu. Hélaðr skýja grátr faldar jarðrar hadd hertyggðdum dróttins hirðmǫnnum úr Norðr fjǫrðungi.

[ENGLISH - A horse fight at the farm takes place in this year]

A horse fight at the farm takes place in this year. But as the fight begins a preacher with a cloak appears on the fighting area and speaks about the sinful kind of this game - about the way this gathers demons in this sinful world of fallen moralities and misguided humans. Many of the people are strong believers of Þorr and begin to mock the missionary's speech. Kjartan's flying axe ends the preacher's voice and Helgi Þráinsson delivers the death blow with his singing sword of dead ravens. When Loki's tongues traveled up north, Sigfúss, brother of Hǫskuldr learns about the killing. As the father of three lights, aski-askr is forced to avenge his death. The island was never lawless and a manslaugther never forgotten. Your fearless spirit, Þjóðrekr, shall be retaliated when my deadly hands meet your executers. I am neutral, patron of heroes, towards the name of the raven-rite's priest, of him who repaid men's praise with fraud from heathen times. Against me Freyr and Freyja, last year I abandoned Njǫrðr's offspring, let fiends ask mercy from Grímnir, will bear fury, and the mighty Þorr; From Christ alone will I beg all love, hateful to me is the son's anger, he holds famous power under the father of earth and from God. But on the next day in the old year, Sigfúss summoned supporters to bring the assassins the last breath. After several days of reckoning Sigfúss travels down south. The dark earth announces an upcoming cold night and the following day. Frozen rain covers the fields of the armed riders from the Northern quarters.

[bookaneer]

A los cuervos, o a las cornejas, se los asociaba especialmente con Odín, dios supremo de los vikingos a veces conocido como Señor de los Cuervos. Tenía dos cuervos —llamados Hugin («pensamiento») y Munin («memoria»)— que se le posaban en los hombros. En los Dichos de Grímnir, de la Edda poética nórdica, Odín visitó a Geirröd, rey de los godos, disfrazado con una túnica azul para poner a prueba la reputación que tenía el monarca de desobedecer las leyes de la hospitalidad. Geirröd capturó a Odín y lo colgó de un árbol entre dos hogueras. Mientras lo torturaban, Odín dijo del cielo y de la tierra:

Hugin y Munin vuelan a diario por el ancho mundo;

temo que Hugin no regrese,

pero tiemblo más por Munin.

Se refería con esto al temor de que el mundo degenerara en caos si se perdiesen la reflexión y la memoria, los dones de la civilización.

Cuervo, Boria Sax.

[priestess-of-the-north-west]

Parts of the Eddur and Saga on this Tumblr

Darrarðarljǫ́ð Egills saga Sigrdrífumál (the lay about Sigurðr, also known Brynhildarljóð) Vegtamskviða (the lay of Vegtamr), earlier name Baldrs Draumr Vǫluspǫ́ (the prophecy of the seeress) Ynglingla saga (the saga of the Yngling) Þrymskviða (the lay of Þrym)

General terms

Codex Regius (Konungsbók) Heimskringla (the world ring) Poetic Edda Prose Edda

Sorry, I´ve removed the ones below. I´ll come back to them again later. Eiríks saga rauða (the saga of Erik the Red) Fornaldarsögur (the sagas of old times) Grímnismál (the lay about Grímnir) Grógaldr (the spell of Gróa) part 1 of the Svipdagsmál Gylfaginning (the deluding of Gylfi) Hávamál (the words of the High One) Hyndluljóð (Lay of Hyndla) Lokasenna (Loki's blasphemies) Skírnismál (the lay about Skírnir)

[fatalswriting]

Current Fandom:

Skyrim

OC(s): Adair, Grímnir/Isengrim

Pronouns: He/they, They/Them

Listed as one because they started as the same person, but their different situations changed them as people, so I talk about them as separate people. (They also exist in two different documents.) Their stories will likely end the same way, but it’s the journey, not the destination, that makes a tale important.

The basics:

A person from our world thrust into Skyrim. Fortunate of them, then, to have some of the necessary skills to survive due to their time as a historical recreator. But will it be enough, with a destiny as heavy as the Dragonborn’s thrust upon their shoulders?

Adair was dropped in with no notice.

Isengrim had a month, but their starting situation was… suboptimal.

This makes all the difference.

POV:

Adair’s story is split between their point of view and the POVs of their companions

Isengrim’s story is told from Kaidan��s PoV as he is their first companion. I’m challenging myself to write from his perspective so I can get to know the inside of his head better.

I’ll be posting pieces of their stories here to motivate myself to finish more scenes!

[maskedstrayart]

A sketchy Óðinn

[skayler]

Celebration also Of Wild Hount to my father Odin. I'm in love for this altar ❤❄ Odin, All-father, Sig-Father! Leader of the Wild Hunt! Bring us wisdom and weal in this darkest of seasons. Fjölnir, Wise One Gangleri, Wanderer Grímnir, Masked One Jölfuðr, Yule father Jólnir, Yule figure Óski, God of Wishes Rúnatýr, God of Runes Síðgrani, Long Beard Sigðir, Victory bringer Leader of the Gods, Chooser of the Slain, Bearer of Gungir, We honor you for the breath of life. We thank you for your gifts of the Runes We praise Odin! Hail Odin! Hail Odin!" #witch #witchcraft #hedgewitch #hedewitchcraft #norsetradition #asatru #21nightofyule #wintersolstice #jol #yule ##nosre #norsewitch #witchwork #Fjölnir #WiseOne #Gangleri #Wanderer #Grímnir #MaskedOne #Jölfuðr #Yulefather #Jólnir #GodofWishes sRúnatýr #GodofRunes #Síðgrani #LongBeard #Sigðir #Victorybringer #ChooserofSlain #BearerofGungir

[marikobards]

“People believe, thought Shadow. It's what people do. They believe, and then they do not take responsibility for their beliefs; they conjure things, and do not trust the conjuration. People populate the darkness; with ghosts, with gods, with electrons, with tales. People imagine, and people believe; and it is that rock solid belief, that makes things happen.” ― Neil Gaiman, American Gods . .. #odin  #gods #ink #comics #character #americangods #Grímnir #wednesday #Norse #gods #mythology #illustration #actor #vikings @NeilGaiman #myths #illustrations #movie #shadow #oldgods #movie #War #cinema #book #inked #fantasyart #shadowmoon #NeilGaiman

[fosterchild42]

Some Entries for the “Elkwood Futurity Showcase” on ES. We have so many horses we wanted to show, it was difficult to choose who to enter. 

[broomsick]

Kennings for (some) of the norse Gods

Odin

One-eyed

Chooser of the slain

Allfather

Hooded-one (also Grímnir in old norse)

Raven God

High-one

Wanderer

Freyja

Lady of the slain (Valfreyja in old norse)

Beautiful one

The giver

Vanir child

Thor

He who rides alone / the charioteer

Brave heart

Trusted friend (fulltrúi)

Fierce soul

The terrible

Thunder wielder

Baldr

Bright one

Æsir prince

White hero

Bringer of daylight

Heimdall

The horned

Guardian

Golden-tooth

Watcher

Of nine mothers-birthed

Loki

Trickster

Hawk’s child

Slanderer of the Gods

Cunning-wise

Bound God

Skadi

Lady of the hunt

The avenger

Winter wind

Frost maker

[parsley-sage-rosemary-n-thyme]

July for Loki using 30 Days of Deity Devotion prompts, Day 5 • Members of the family – genealogical connections

Loki Laufeyjarson, Loki Son of Laufey. Laufey is Loki's mother: Laufey the leafy Ásynja (female Æsir), Laufey the Birch set on fire by the mighty Jötunn Fárbauti, the Lightning that strikes and brings the flames to the ground. According to this myth, Loki is of Jötunn and Æsir blood, belonging to both worlds and none at the same time, making him a liminal being from the very beginning. I personally feel Laufey is originally a Jötunn, later included among the Ásynja, but it's an UPG (unverified personal gnosis). Laufey gave birth to two other children, Helblindi and Býleistr, Loki's brothers. Sigyn is Loki's wife, and little is known about her. According to my own feeling, she belongs to the Jötnar too, but it's another UPG. Together they have two sons, Narfi and Váli. The Lady of Járnvid (Ironwood), Angrboða, conceived three powerful children with Loki: Hela, Queen of the Dead; Fenrisúlfr, the Wolf Fenrir; Jörmungandr, Miðgarðsormr, the Sea Serpent that hugs Miðgarð. To all of these children, Loki is father. And yet there is another children, too often forgotten, to which Loki is mother: Sleipnir, the eight-legged horse he conceived in the form of a mare with the stallion Svaðilfari. You may be familiar with Sleipnir being Óðinn's mount. Óðinn is also Loki's blood brother by oath, another detail some prefer to forget. Their relationship may be complex, but if we wanna talk about Loki's connections it seems only fair to me to include his good old friend Grímnir (Hooded, Masked One), too.

When Loki chooses to "work" with you, he'll introduce you to his family, sooner or later, in no particular order. He's a family person, and just loves his dear ones, especially his children, with all his burning heart.

Art by @muirin007 , love this depiction of Loke with his kids!

[cappymightwrite]

His body was so skeletal and his clothes so rotted that at first Bran took him for another corpse, a dead man propped up so long that the roots had grown over him, under him, and through him.

[...]

I know that I hung on that windy tree, spear-wounded, nine full nights, given to Óðinn, myself to myself, on that tree that rose from roots that no man ever knows.

[...]

What skin the corpse lord showed was white, save for a bloody blotch that crept up his neck onto his cheek. His white hair was fine and thin as root hair and long enough to brush against the earthen floor. Roots coiled around his legs like wooden serpents. One burrowed through his breeches into the desiccated flesh of his thigh, to emerge again from his shoulder.

[...]

'More serpents lie under the ash Yggdrasil than any dumb blockhead can believe; Góin and Móin – Grafvitnir's sons – Grey-back and Grafvöllud; Ofnir and Sváfnir, I reckon must always bite on the branches of the tree.

[...]

"Are you the three-eyed crow?" Bran heard himself say. A three-eyed crow should have three eyes. He has only one, and that one red. Bran could feel the eye staring at him, shining like a pool of blood in the torchlight. Where his other eye should have been, a thin white root grew from an empty socket, down his cheek, and into his neck.

[...]

Alone she sat out, when the aged one came, the Dread One of the Æsir, and she looked in his eye: 'What do you ask me? Why do you try me? I know it all, Óðinn: where you hid your eye, in the much-famed fountain of Mímir; Mímir sips mead every morning from Corspe-father's pledge: do you know yet, or what?'

[...]

"A … crow?" The pale lord's voice was dry. His lips moved slowly, as if they had forgotten how to form words. "Once, aye. Black of garb and black of blood." The clothes he wore were rotten and faded, spotted with moss and eaten through with worms, but once they had been black.

[...]

He had a wide-brimmed hat that sloped over his face, and he wore a black hooded cloak. He had one eye, and he held a spear in his hand.

[...]

"I have been many things, Bran. Now I am as you see me, and now you will understand why I could not come to you… except in dreams. I have watched you for a long time, watched you with a thousand eyes and one.

[...]

'Now I'm called Óðinn; before I was called Dread; I was called Thund before that, Vigilant and Skilfing, Dangler and Tumult-god, Gaut and Gelding among gods. Ofnir and Sváfnir: I think they've become, all of these, one with me.'

[...]

"I saw your birth, and that of your lord father before you. I saw your first step, heard your first word, was part of your first dream. I was watching when you fell. And now you are come to me at last, Brandon Stark, though the hour is late."

[...]

It's time to declaim from the seat of the sage, by the well of Destiny; I saw and stayed silent, I saw and I pondered: I listened to the speech of men; I heard runes discussed, nor did they omit interpretation, at the High One's hall, in the High One's hall: I heard them say these things.

[...]

"I wore many names when I was quick, but even I once had a mother, and the name she gave me at her breast was Brynden."

[...]

'He is called All-Father in our language, but in Ásgarðr the Old, he has twelve names.'

image from jonathan strange & mr norrell / a dance with dragons, bran iii / hávamál ('the lay of the high one') / adwd, bran iii / grímnismál ('the lay of grímnir') / adwd, bran iii / völuspá ('the prophecy of the seeress') / adwd, bran iii / völsunga saga ('saga of the völsungs') / hávamál ('the lay of the high one') / adwd, bran iii / gylfaginning ('the beguiling of gylfi')

[marinesocks]

Hi. Can i know more about the project you were talking about in your recent post. I would like to know more

hey hey!!! i'm assuming you're talking about ouroboros paradox? please let me know if you weren't and i will give you more info on the one you wanted!!! and emm i think a basic run-down is that eh. basically all living beings have this "life energy," and it transfers when they die!! so if you die naturally it goes into the earth to be recycled, if you are killed your murderer will get your expected lifespan added to their life energy, and there's a third option thats a bit overwhelming to put here haha!! anyways the amount of life energy you have depends on your health and age. so for example on average children have more life energy than older people, and someone healthy will have more than someone who is sick. life energy can transfer no matter the species, and everything has life energy, even plants and stuff!! i also made this chart if that helps LOL!!

as for the actual story... well all i can confidently say at the moment is that it revolves around two protagonists, one who is in the past and one who is in the present! we'll follow Grímnir Valkjosdi (protag of the past) as he travels into the city to start working in the palace, amidst the rising tension between the citizens and a religious group as they fight over the rules and regulations surrounding a life-leeching material known as Vivinite. and as for the present, we'll be trailing behind a certain Tyra Kolbeck, young girl from the countryside, as she travels to the city to pay her older brother a visit only to uncover something truly awful unfolding underneath the palace gardens...