Come Young Cubs and Old Wolves!! Gather round and I, Aelwulf Tyrson, will regale you with tales of Raven Feeding Heroes and Blood Soaked Deeds!

It was but weeks ago that a trio of companions set out to the hunt. Einar, Doom of Wolves and Shaper of Metal set out with his friends of youth, Bragi, Spear Shaker and Leather Maker and I, Aelwulf, whom already you know. Deep into the Winter's Maw the trio trekked, trusting young Einar's wolf nose to find a quarry fit for feast when lo'..there stood a magnificent stag. 10 hands high with a neck strong and graceful as Freya's thigh. Einar's thews rippled as he drew back bowstring to release a wound-bee. The arrow struck home in that graceful neck and the arrow-dew ran red. But mighty was the stag's heart and it determined to beat fast still as it leapt away into the forest. We followed the trail left by the river of the sword, through night as black as raven wings until a wide eye noticed a strange mark. Above my head, near the height of 3 men there were curious slashes in a tree. Unable to pierce the veil from midgard ground, I climbed the arrow home until at last, near the apex of the tree there would I see. Three wicked and angry slashes tore the old yew bark like a blade through babe. I leapt back to midgard and spoke to Einar and Bragi, both Hunters of skill far greater than mine.
     "Ho Einar, have ever you've seen a Bear of girth great enough to rend a tree so high?"
     "Never!" replied Einar "..but an Ice Bear is said to grow larger than the breadth of 4 men, end to end, though I've never seen such myself...."
     "Gods willing, you never will..." spoke wise Bragi somberly.

     On we tracked, as Ymir's dew coated our beards and stung our lungs, onward into the frozen dark as moonlight danced in the icicles adorning Bragi's spear. Hours passed hard upon each other when at last we took a brief respite and I deemed to climb aloft a Giant's fist thinking the high rocky outcropping would lend wisdom of vision. As I climbed ,silent and cold, and neared the broken edge, there beneath me I saw the Beast! It's Girth was greater than a Giant's chest as it heaved in it's feasting. There beneath it's bulk lay the remains of the great stag we had chased and the Great Ice Bear now rent it's flesh in savage jaws which dripped scarlet with corpse milk. With steel of heart I raised my hand to warn my shield brothers and in that seemingly innocuous motion the Beast reared up and bellowed with rage enough to set Fenris ashake. In a flash of moonlight the wound snake flowed into my hands and  within a heartbeat a pair of slashes had marred the monster's hide and I backed away, blown on battle's winds to stand with my mighty brethren.

    This scion of Giant's reared up on it's hinds and red death leered from it's eyes. A tower of Winter rage fell upon us but Einar, with blood of Thor in his veins, met charge for charge and clapped arms about the Snow Bear with a ring of Thunder and held the mighty beast at bay. In Einar's iron grip the Bear could not gain ground and it's clawed paws, like Hel's hammers, tore into the hero in a flurry of silver fury. Einar's armor, shaped by Bragi himself held the frost forged claws from flesh long enough for Bragi, shaker of spears, to enter the fray! In one motion he slid under the bear and sent his spear in ascension through the belly of the beast until it glinted in moonlight above it's snow clad back. As the Ice Bear howled I flew to it's rear and sang the valkyries song, hewing and hacking until the monster slumped to earth. It's ragged breath fuming in Einar's eyes, the mighty warrior wrapped hands like Thor's gauntlets about the beast's head and snapped its neck like a dead branch.
      We three rejoiced in our victory over this hell bent demon of ice and took our glory in it's trophies. Food for clan, furs for women and totem's for warriors! There about the neck of Einar and Bragi do you see the truth of my tongue. See the claws, like daggers of silver glinting in the light of the wood-doom, adorning  their bulging necks in battle glory. Such is the prize of true heroes of Haraldson blood!

Go now and rest, let the Valkyries ride your dreams and sing these songs to the Einherijar that they may know that their scions honor them still in the waking world. Go and be at peace.
So sings Aelwulf Tyrson, Skald of Haraldson.