Blessings flow as mead to be amongst a crowd even so lonely as this. Come stranger, listen to this story of mine. Allow this old bard, so full of stories, to regale you a tale, on this lonesome and wistful night. Surely you’ll stay to hear of the story, the true story, of this our land of rain and castles? A story of ritual, of wrath, of whimsy, of love, and of noble good and cunning evil! Please friend, hold your gin steadfast, and listen to our tale, for you will know its truth by its cut. You will listen, yes?
Good.
I shall start at the beginning, the very beginning. There was once a time before history when the Gods were of pre-established glory. Then came the Allmother and Allfather seeking a home, and it was to our inevitable fortune that they chose here. The Allmother spread the bounty of nature o’er all the land, wandering north, south, then north again, jumping the vast Midriver, and landing in the hands’ embrace of the curling mountains, and it was there that she ascended to where the Allfather had made Their castle, halfway to the sky. From that revered mountain peak, the Allfather watched above as a quartermaster o'er Her fruited harvest, tallying stock and culling rot. So it was that the Allmother and Allfather brought Their powers of life and death, for that was balance.
