Archived-Valdyr

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Family. Tradition. Respect.

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The Valdyr are a small close-knit lineage that can trace their ancestry back to Nordic Mythology. The Valdyr believe that they are descendants of the Wolf-God Fenris and thus have the blood of a true apex predator running through their veins. They are a fiercely loyal and protective lineage that has slipped out of the spot light over the millennia. Having lost many of their number during the endless wars that have raged across the world.


The early members of the lineage lived in Scandinavia during the height of Norse Mythology. They lived a nomadic lifestyle, roaming from area to area as a pack. They believed that Fenris was the first of their kind (Not necessarily the first Vampire but the first Valdyr) and as he grew stronger and stronger he went mad with power losing all control to the beast within.


The Valdyr are even more in tune with the beast than their Gangrel relatives and this plays quite heavily on their soul. Each Valdyr neonate is taught that within themselves lies incredible power, but the more forthwith he is with this power the less in control of his actions he becomes. Slipping away until there is only pure want and desire left. Because of this, the Valdyr have always been an incredibly close community, looking for signs of mental decay within the family.


Each member of the Valdyr is related to one another through mortal ancestry in addition to the kindred lineage. The bloodline has watched over the family tree for centuries, choosing to embrace only those with the blood of Fenris and the ideals of the Valdyr already evident in their behaviour. While names change over time and different branches grow, keeping a close eye on all of their mortal relations is something that the Valdyr hold close to their hearts. Nowadays the Valdyr are a small group, spread thin across the world. Choosing to leave their nomadic heritage behind, instead agreeing to relocate as little as possible. Focusing their nights on retaining what family members they have left and watching over their mortal descendants for the next worthy ‘Child of Fenris’


Old World meets New. With the movement of a large number of Valdyr from their traditional European haunts to Australia, many found a strange synergy between the long held life-loving Viking ideal and the Australian frontier spirit with its strangely familiar concepts of mate-ship and the "She'll be right" attitude.

Tribal Paw(Small).jpgCovenantsTribal Paw(Small).jpg

Valdyr aren’t as bound to any Covenants like many other families: they place family above all politics. However, remaining Unaligned is a political danger, and a significant number of the family claim casual membership within the ranks of the Archived-Circle of the Crone. That's not to say, however, that those who value the spirituality of the Norse Gods do not seek to raise themselves within the Circle's ranks, of course. The Archived-Carthian Movement also claim a number of the family's less spiritual members, or those who place a priority on politics over spirituality. Finally, a small branch exist within the Archived-Invictus - a point of contention in the family's ranks.

Invictus: The Concept of following someone blindly simply because they are older than you is something that the Valdyr can not comprehend. The Valdyr follow someone because they have proven themselves and will do what is best for the family.
"They have a system in place to keep the powerful, powerful, and the oppressed, oppressed."

Circle of the Crone: The Old Gods are the Right Gods. Most of the religious Valdyr will find themselves within the Circle of the Crone. Worshipping those of Norse Mythology, aknowlodging Fenris' presence and influence within their blood.
"We are filled with the blood of Wolves, why act like anything but what we are?"

The Carthian Movement: Being free, able to think the way one want and having the support of a strong close-knit group is something that is very familar to the Valdyr. They feel almost at home amongst others of the Movement.
"We come for the freedom, we stay for the tenacity."

Ordo Dracul: The Valdyr as a whole havent formed an opinion of the Ordo Dracul. They simply don't know enough about them.
"Others say they are some secret society. We know they are simply scared."

Lancea Sanctum: Believing in the Christian God is something that Valdyr would not consider. While they may not believe that Fenris actually existed, they would almost never find themselves conforming to the structure of the Church.
"Fenris made some mistakes, but he wasn't someone's bitch. Longinus was a puppet."

Those of the Valdyr that join the ranks of the Invictus or Lancea Sanctum find themselves torn between loyalties. Ever since the feud with the Volmark started, there has been very little middle ground. No longer trusted by either side, they get left behind and forgotten.
Valdyr know very little of the Ordo Dracul and do not find common ground with their beliefs in anyway.

TripleHorn.jpgImportant Roles in the FamilyTripleHorn.jpg

Chronicler: A position of great respect that tracks both the mortal and immortal genealogy of the family.
Skald: The family storyteller, oath-bound to gather the stories of the Valdyr and to share them within the family at gatherings. (Sort of an internal Harpy)
Vinr: The Leader of the Valdyr within a certain location. Each group of Valdyr follows a Vinr because they trust this person to make the right decisions when the time comes.
Dyr Tala: The representative of the Valdyr to the animal kingdom of a specific location.

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Age: Those that came before you have seen it all, played all the games, watched all the wars. Follow them with respect and honor and they will protect you.

Clan: We are Valdyr, THAT is our blood. We are NOT Gangrel. We support them the same way one supports a younger sibling. We come from Gangrel and we share similar origins, however we are refined.

Family: We watch those we left behind, we protect those of the family be their blood warm or cold.

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Fenrisúlfur: Fenris, the Wolf of Despair
Hati Hróðvitnisson: Hati, the Moon Stalker

Many names of those in between have been lost to the Eclipse.

All known members of the Australian branch of the family descend from Vilrec Langlifr.
Means not in play, either through Death or Retirement

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  • 1628 - Vilrec is Embraced by Hringr
  • 1645 - Vilrec captures Archived-Batavia and holds her captive for a number of months.

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  • 1820 - Berengaria Embraced by Vilrec
  • 1830 - Aksel Embraced by Vilrec
  • 1831 - Stellan is killed in Germany and Vilrec put into Torpor
  • 1853 - Aksel embraces a young nobleman named Archived-Widcke intended for the Volmark ranks
  • 1895 - Alvis embraced by Aksel

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  • 1901 - Berengaria & Aksel tussle with Merrick in The Netherlands
  • 1905 - Rasmus Embraced by Berengaria
  • 1906 - Rasmus handed over to Godric Volmark in exchange for Vilrec . Volmark deceive Berengaria and try to murder her. Volmark retain Vilrec's topored body.
  • 1920 - Valdyr/Volmark truce (The Pax of Fear and Fang)
  • 1921 - Deprived of combat opportunities Aksel heads for Vienna.
  • 1934 - Vilhelmiina Embraced by Berengaria
  • 1945 - The remaining Valdyr relocate to Australia
  • 1952 - Vilhelmiina is put into Torpor
  • 1954 - Vilrec is returned to the family. Is awoken from Torpor.
  • 1958 - The "Dirty" Brood War starts
  • 1970 - Aksel embraces Mr Desmond
  • 1974 - Adrian Embraced by Berengaria, to help with the Brood War
  • 1974 - Vilhelmiina wakes from Torpor
  • 1975 - The "Reclamation" War & the Canberra Incident
  • 1982 - Muninn Embraced by Vilhelmiina
  • 1983 - Jim Embraced by Berengaria
  • 1990 - Berengaria is put into Torpor
  • 1993 - A series of training sessions begins, in which a few times a year the family all get together and practise fighting to keep on the ball. 1993 to 2000 are jokingly referred to as "The Montage Years"

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  • 2003 - The Livian War
  • 2004 - Aksel enters first Torpor
  • 2005 - Berengaria wakes from Torpor
  • 2006 - Eira Embraced by Rasmus
  • 2012 - Aksel shocked from Torpor (December 21st)

Tribal Paw(Small).jpgTales Of The FamilyTribal Paw(Small).jpg

Valdyr Creation Myth

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Chapter 1 – Hróðvitnir’s Blooding
In the time of the ancestors there was a man named Hróðvitnir, who was the son of Ulfr. Though his father was but a farmer, Hróðvitnir himself was gifted with tremendous strength. In his youth Hróðvitnir learned to wield a sword in battle and as a young man he desired to prove his valour, but bonds of kinship prevented him from leaving as his ailing father could not maintain the farm on his own. Knowing this pained this father, who loved his son dearly and had long desired for his son to bring to their line the glory that he himself could not. So it was that when a particularly harsh winter fell upon them that Ulfr said to his son, “My dear Hróðvitnir, this winter will be too harsh for us and the farm cannot yield food as Skadi’s cornucopia. You are young and strong, the norns have clearly set for you a greater destiny than to perish of cold”. Hróðvitnir protested, but his father would not concede. So it was, that heeding his father’s dying wish Hróðvitnir took up his old sword and set forth in search of the fate that the norns had set before him.

For weeks Hróðvitnir travelled across the countryside, provisioning himself by hunting where he could, until he came upon another farmstead. Tired and hungry, he determined to find shelter and hospitality in this hall though he did not know who dwelled there. As he arrived at the door, he was greeted by an older man clad in mail and bearing a sword at his side. “Halt” he spoke, “I am Hrolf, son of Eiric, and this is my hall. Who is this that approaches my doorway?” “I am Hróðvitnir, son of Ulfr” replied Hróðvitnir, “I am wandering in search of destiny, and would have shelter here for the night” At this request Hrolf stood tall and laughed deeply and spoke again, “I have not heard of you, Hróðvitnir, nor your father Ulfr. If you would have shelter in my hall, you must earn it. What have you to offer me?” Hróðvitnir stopped fast at this request, having nothing on him for barter or by way of coin. “By the gods, good Hrolf, I swear that I am without wealth and have nothing of value to offer in exchange but my strong arm and sword.” “Then with those you must prove your worth. In the forest north of here is a bandit who calls himself Vakr Shield-biter, who has threatened to do harm to me if I do not offer him a tribute. I had intended to call for my cousins to aid me in slaying him, but if you can slay him and bring me his head as proof of the deed I will grant you stay in my hall as long as you please.” Having no other means of survival, and desiring the glory that he left his father’s farm to attain; Hróðvitnir accepted this offer and immediately set off to the north in search of Vakr Shield-biter.

By nightfall Hróðvitnir had travelled far to the north, and found himself surrounded by a vast and dense wood. As he approached a bridge crossing a loud river Hróðvitnir spied up ahead a man. Standing before the bridge this man seemed like a giant, having a full head of height over Hróðvitnir and being bound in muscles. Across his shoulders hung a bear fur, and in his hands he held a gruesome axe. His skin was scarred and dirty, and his face and hair unshorn. “Hail” shouted Hróðvitnir as he drew close, “I seek Vakr Shield-biter, and I am told he makes his lair in these woods.” “I am he” replied the man, who hoisted the axe off the ground as he spoke. “Hrolf, son of Eiric, has sent me on his behalf to decline your request of tribute. What say you to him?” “I say that he should choose better his messengers and their words. I say that if you do not pay me tribute now, I will have your head.” “I have nothing of value to offer you, Vakr, only my steel.” Hróðvitnir had but drawn his sword when Vakr was upon him, and evaded the brute’s opening strike by a hair’s breadth. Unused to combat, Hróðvitnir missed the chance to catch Vakr by surprise at this and when he did bring his sword down upon the brute it was met with the haft of the giant axe. Stepping back swiftly, Hróðvitnir sought another route. The brute Vakr swing at him again and again with the vicious axe, but Hróðvitnir was too quick for such clumsy strikes and stepped out of the way time and again. Growing frustrated with this, Vakr did not notice that Hróðvitnir had pulled him off the path and towards a mighty tree. The axe came down hard, driven by the giant’s anger, and buried itself in the trunk of the tree. Driven on by the heat of battle, Hróðvitnir quickly drove his sword through the giant Vakr’s belly. Recoiling in pain, the enraged giant released the axe and flung himself at Hróðvitnir in a bloodthirsty frenzy. Hróðvitnir’s sword caught the huge man across his bare thigh as the smaller Hróðvitnir ducked out of the way, and Vakr went down to his knees. Hróðvitnir then quickly moved in and brought his sword down swiftly, striking Vakr’s head from his shoulders. Picking up the head and wrapping the dead Vakr’s bear fur about his own shoulders, Hróðvitnir set off in triumph.

When Hróðvitnir returned to the hall of Hrolf, son of Eiric, he was welcomed in and brought to the hearth. It was here he stayed for seven days, resting and feasting, and it was here that Hrolf told him to seek out Jarl Tryggva of Drangheim who was preparing for war with Jarl Harald of Trondheim. So it was that Hróðvitnir set forth, gifted with a fine sword and shirt of mail and given ample provisions, to reach Drangheim and pledge his aid to Jarl Tryggva.

Chapter 2 – War with Harald of Trondheim
When Hróðvitnir arrived in Drangheim, he was amazed. The hall of Jarl Trygvva was a mighty structure of stone set upon a hill and surrounded by many buildings. Hróðvitnir had never seen such a town, and had only heard of them in his father’s stories. Making his way to the great hall, Hróðvitnir was met at the entrance by armed men, the Jarl’s huskarls. “I am Hróðvitnir, son of Ulfr and slayer of Vakr Shield-biter, and I wish to speak with Jarl Tryggva of Drangheim and to pledge my sword to his war with Jarl Harald of Trondheim”, spoke Hróðvitnir as he approached the huskarls. “We had heard that Vakr Shield-biter had been slain by a traveller on the road. If you wish to pledge your sword to Jarl Tryggva and his war, we will take you before him”, replied one of the huskarls, who then beckoned for Hróðvitnir to follow him. Inside the great stone hall there was a vast hearth and upon a raised platform Jarl Tryggva, who was sometimes called Raven-locks for his black hair, sat upon a throne of gilded oak. “Who is this who has been brought before me?” he demanded as Hróðvitnir and the huskarl entered the chamber. “This man calls himself Hróðvitnir, son of Ulfr and slayer of Vakr Shield-biter. He wishes to pledge himself to your war, my lord” replied the huskarl, bowing in deference. “Then let him kneel before me and present his sword and swear an oath, that he will be loyal to me and do as I ask until such time as death claims him, myself, or my foe Jarl Harald of Trondheim who he has sworn to fight on my behalf”. And so the huskarl lead Hróðvitnir before the Raven-locks, and Hróðvitnir knelt before the jarl with sword drawn and held out before him in both hands, and then Hróðvitnir, son of Ulf, swore the oath that Jarl Tryggva had demanded of him. With the oath sworn, the huskarl took Hróðvitnir to the hall where the other men who had sworn their oaths in search of glory had been given food and lodging, and there Hróðvitnir stayed until in two days Jarl Tryggva Raven-locks mustered his men and marched eastwards to meet the army of Jarl Harald of Trondheim on the field of battle.

When the armies of Jarl Tryggva Raven-locks and Jarl Harald of Trondheim came upon the field that was to be their battleground, the two armies camped upon opposing hills looking over a shallow valley. And upon one hill Hróðvitnir stood looking out and saw the banner of Jarl Harald of Trondheim whereupon ravens had gathered, which he understood as an ill omen for the Jarl. “There gather ravens, upon the banner of Jarl Harald, as if to predict his doom” said Hróðvitnir, to the huskarls who had gathered there. “It is a good sign for us” said one, and the others readily agreed. Word of the omen spread throughout the army of Jarl Tryggva, and his men were heartened by this sign such that when they formed their shieldwall at noon and shouted taunts across the valley the clamour drowned out the sound of their adversaries.

Hróðvitnir stood in the middle of the shieldwall when it formed, not far from Jarl Tryggva of Drangheim, and when the two armies charged at each other and met in the valley between the hills he remained in the van. There his sword hewed through the men fighting for Jarl Harald of Trondheim, and his shield crashed into the shields of his foes again and again. The battle raged fiercely through the day, but in spite of the omen it seemed that Jarl Harald’s army had claimed the upper hand. His huskarls had remained fast in the centre whilst his bondsmen had drawn in around Jarl Tryggva’s flanks and so as dusk set in Hróðvitnir found himself caught as if in a wolf’s jaws. It was here that he found himself fighting back to back with Jarl Tryggva, and it was here that Jarl Harald came forth to challenge his foe and resolve their dispute once and for all. As Hróðvitnir and the Raven-locks’ remaining huskarls looked on, the two jarls met in single combat. Their swords crashed against shields, and the two men fought fiercely, but soon Jarl Tryggva stumbled and Jarl Harald ran him through upon the ground. Seeing this the bulk of the huskarls went into a maddened frenzy and threw themselves at Jarl Harald and his vanguard, but Hróðvitnir saw only the end of his oath with the death of Jarl Tryggva and instead chose to quit the field with his life.

Chapter 3 – The Wolves in the Fen
Having quit the field after the end of his oath to fight for Jarl Tryggva until his death, Hróðvitnir found himself making his way into thick woodland. For three days he travelled, subsisting only upon what he could forage, until he made his way into a dank fen. Here the sky was grey and cloudy, with a fog blanketing the ground and the barren pines through which Hróðvitnir now found himself walking. It was at noon with the sun barely visible through the fog and clouds that Hróðvitnir came upon a wolf feeding at a fresh kill. Here it was that Hróðvitnir stopped and looked upon the wolf with its fresh kill and he fell to his knees in despair, for he saw in that wolf all the things that he had wished to be. This wolf could outrun any man, and with his pack bring them down as surely as any elk. It was strong, and cunning, and fast, and a greater warrior than it seemed he himself would ever be. “Oh capricious norns!” he wailed at the sky, “Why do you weave fate such that men can only desire this strength, this power?” As he kneeled there, a man came forth from the mists. He was dressed in a ragged cloak, concealing his face, and carrying a gnarled staff. Upon seeing him, Hróðvitnir rose swiftly to his feet and drew his sword at the man. “Name yourself, man of the woods, and stay at arm’s length!” said Hróðvitnir. “Stay your sword Hróðvitnir, son of Ulfr” said the man, stopping where he stood, “I heard your lamenting, and sought to pass on a secret that will give you what you desire.” Hróðvitnir was wary, lowering his sword but not returning it to its sheath. “Of what secrets do you speak, stranger?” “There is a wise woman, called Angrboða, who lives in a cave near here. It is said that she was gifted with the power of seid, and can grant your wish.” Hróðvitnir considered this a moment, and driven by his grief he responded. “Where is this wise woman? Where can I find her?” “The cave lies to the west, go there and state your desire.” With that, the cloaked man faded into the mists and Hróðvitnir set out in the direction the man had told him to go. In his grief, Hróðvitnir did not notice the time pass as he travelled to the cave which he found by a still and stale smelling river.

“Wise woman of the cave!” Hróðvitnir called out as he approached the cave mouth, “I have been told that you are gifted with the power of seid, and can grant me my heart’s desire.” Hróðvitnir stood in the dim and ghostly light cast about the fen by grey sky and heavy fog, and saw as an old woman taller than he shambled out of the cave. “Who speaks to me, Angrboða?” she said. “I am Hróðvitnir, son of Ulfr and slayer of Vakr Shield-biter” replied Hróðvitnir, “I am told you are skilled in the way of seid.” “I am” replied the woman, leaning down to face Hróðvitnir directly, “Why should I use my gifts for you?” His moment of grief still holding his heart, Hróðvitnir replied, “Why should you not? Why should men be denied the gifts given to beasts? Why should we be forced to live with this curse?” Angrboða considered Hróðvitnir for a few moments, then drew back up to her full height and towered over him. “Very well” she replied, “I shall give you what you wish, but to prove your desire you must wait here until I return.” “This I will do.” And so Hróðvitnir stood at the mouth of the cave as the woman shambled back inside, and he stood there until the sun had set and he had grown weary and his stomach ached for food. At dusk the old woman returned, and in her hands carried a bowl which she presented to Hróðvitnir. “Drink from this bowl” she said, “and you will have what you desire.” Without hesitation Hróðvitnir took the bowl and drank deeply from it, the liquid warm and thick in his throat and leaving the taste of blood in his throat. As the last of the bowl were consumed and he stepped back, Hróðvitnir found his legs had grown weak and he collapsed to the ground. His wits overcome, he heard the woman’s laughter as he passed into unwilling sleep.

When Hróðvitnir awoke the sun had set and the fog had cleared. Arising from the ground, he suddenly found himself consumed with a strange sensation. He found himself starving, craving for flesh and for blood. Even as he did so, he felt his body surging. His hearing was keener than he remembered it ever being, and his limbs felt lighter and quicker. His mind, though craving for sustenance, was already searching for prey. And so it was that Hróðvitnir set out into the forest, and hunted as he never had before. He quickly tracked down a deer and, without thought getting in the way, fell upon it in a mad fury. His sword bit deep into the animal’s flesh again and again until it fell, and then Hróðvitnir himself fell upon the deer and tore it open with nothing but his open hands so that he could feast upon its flesh. The deer meat tasted sweeter than any he had tasted before, warm and full of blood, and he dined upon it gladly. It was then that the wolf he had seen the previous day came before him, out of the night with its pack in tow, and they surrounded him. “When last I saw you, wolf, I despaired” Hróðvitnir said, standing from the deer carcass and taking up his sword again, “But now I am changed by the power of seid. I who was called Hróðvitnir, son of Ulfr, have broken the curse of the norns and taken on the nature of the beast that was denied men. I am Fenrisúlfr, who broke the curse of men and beasts.” And then Fenrisúlfr, who was called Hróðvitnir, regarded the leader of the wolves who stood before him. And the wolf, who understood his words, lay in supplication to Fenrisúlfr and so too did his pack. And then Fenrisúlfr bade them follow him, and he chose then to make this fen his home and to live here, where he could hunt and delight in his freedom from the shackles of man and beast.

Chapter 4 – The Binding of Fenrisúlfr
And so it was that Fenrisúlfr, who was called Hróðvitnir, made that fen and the woods about it his lands. He carved a cave into a mountain where he dwelled during the day, and then in the night he went out into the woods and hunted. And word spread that a monster, who they called Vánagandr after the river Van which flowed through that wood, had made its hall in the woods and there kept a brood of wolves. Such it was that men came in search of the one they called Vánagandr, who was once called Hróðvitnir, to fight him and slay him for the glory it would bring them. But none could, and all died in the night as they were hunted down by Fenrisúlfr and his brood, until men desired to follow this Vánagandr, who was by reputation a mighty warrior. And so men travelled to the fen of Vánagandr and sought out his hall, which Fenrisúlfr allowed. Each was tasked with survival to earn their place, and those who survived the nightly hunt Fenrisúlfr allowed to bend the knee and swear fealty to him, and in time Fenrisúlfr had gathered about him a band of men who all ate of warm flesh and drank of dying blood, and it is attested that he sired two sons, who were called Sköll and Hati. This is what happened over the years, and this is what the god Odin saw from his hall in Midgard.

Odin Allfather, from his hall in Midgard, saw the birth of Fenrisúlfr, who was once called Hróðvitnir and who some called Vánagandr, and grew concerned. He sought out the advice of a wise voelva, who told him that in time Fenrisúlfr, who was once called Hróðvitnir, would come to challenge the Allfather and at the Ragnarök strike him down before being struck down in turn by Odin’s tall son of Triumph’s Sire. Odin grew fearful at this, and desired to bind Fenrisúlfr so that he could not do any more harm. He travelled then to svartalfarheimr had the svartalfar forge for him iron bindings, which were called Leyding, and then took them down to the fen were Fenrisúlfr, who some call Vánagandr, made his hall. There Odin found the hall and entered it freely, for the men and wolves who dwelled there dared not challenge the Allfather. Therein he found Fenrisúlfr, whom he went before, and to whom he spoke. “Great Fenrisúlfr” the Allfather began, “Your fame has spread far, even to my hall in Midgard, but there is dispute there. Some in Midgard doubt your strength, and so I have come to help you prove it beyond doubt.” “How so, Allfather?” asked Fenrisúlfr, not fearing the presence of the father of the Aesir, “I see you carry with you iron shackles. Do you mean to bind me in them?” “I believe that you can shatter them, these shackles called Leyding, and that then the gods would respect your strength.” “Very well. If the hosts of the hall of Odin Allfather desire proof of my strength, then fasten those shackles about my wrists and I will shatter them.” And so Odin Allfather fastened Leyding around Fenrisúlfr’s wrists, and then the Vánagandr tensed and pulled with all his might and surely enough the shackles binding his wrists, which were called Leyding, were torn asunder. And then Odin Allfather collected the broken shackles and bade Fenrisúlfr farewell before departing.

As the next day arose, the Allfather remained concerned. And so he went back to svartalfarheimr and there requested another set of bindings. These shackles the svartalfar called Dromi, and they were made stronger than Leyding had been made. With the shackles called Dromi, Odin Allfather returned to the hall of Fenrisúlfr, the one called Vánagandr, and presented him with the challenge again. And so again, Fenrisúlfr in his confidence allowed the shackles to be placed upon him. These shackles gave him some pause, and it took several tries with all his might, but once again Fenrisúlfr, who was once called Hróðvitnir, broke them with his might. And so once again, Odin Allfather departed with concern. Fearing the worst, he called the Aesir to him and presented their dilemma. It was then that Loki, who unbeknownst to any present had been the man in the mist, came forth with a solution. He presented Odin the Allfather with a ribbon which he called Gleipnir and claimed was made by svartalfar of greater skill than those who had made Leyding and Dromi, and that it would restrain Fenrisúlfr until the Ragnarök. With no other choice, Odin took the ribbon and then asked those assembled if any would come with him to aid in the task of binding the Vánagandr. None but Tyr, whose courage was boundless, volunteered for the task. And so it was that at the next day the Allfather and Tyr set out to the hall of the Vánagandr, and when they arrived they went before him a third time. “Fenrisúlfr, who was once called Hróðvitnir and who some now call Vánagandr, I come before you a third time for there is but one amongst the Aesir who still doubts your strength.” began the Allfather, “I come before you with Tyr, the courageous, who still doubts your strength and would have you attempt to break the bonds of this, which they call Gleipnir.” When the Allfather presented the ribbon, Fenrisúlfr grew angry. “Do you mean to insult me, Allfather? Surely this is meant in jest; that is but a ribbon.” But despite this the Allfather and Tyr the courageous remained steadfast. “Neither insult nor jest, good Fenrisúlfr” Tyr said now, “This is the ribbon called Gleipnir, made by the svartalfar. There are no bonds greater known to the gods, and if you could break this it would prove your strength for all time.” Fenrisúlfr considered this for a moment, his keen instincts wary of the seemingly innocuous band but his pride demanding that he take the challenge and face it down. “Very well” he began in reply, “But I am wary of this challenge, and believe you may seek to trick me. If you do intend good faith, then I would ask that you place something at risk to prove it.” “As you ask” replied Tyr, “I will place my hand upon a block before you, and allow you to hold your sword in hand as you are bound, and if we deceive you then you may bring down the sword upon my wrist.” And so Fenrisúlfr accepted these terms, and had a block brought forth and Tyr place his outstretched arm upon it. He then took his sword in his hand as the Allfather bound his wrists with the ribbon called Gleipnir. At first try, Fenrisúlfr realized that this band would not be broken. Enraged at the deception, he brought the sword down upon Tyr’s wrist, where he severed the hand from the arm but buried the blade in the block and could not draw it back out. Not missing a chance, the Allfather struck Fenrisúlfr in the knees with the haft of his spear and made the enraged man collapse, thereafter taking the cord which was called Gelgja and using it to bind Fenrisúlfr’s hands to the block. Thereafter Tyr, who had been preparing, took the stone Thviti and slammed it into the ground across cord Gelgja so as to ensure that Fenrisúlfr could not rise. The enraged Vánagandr howled his fury at the gods who had bound him, and swore that when the time came he would have his vengeance against Odin for his trickery. Then all who had gathered into the cave fled before the Allfather and Tyr the Courageous, who would thereafter be called One-Handed, and went out into the world. With Sköll went those men who had come to dwell in the hall of Fenrisúlfr, and with Hati went those wolves who had seen in Fenrisúlfr the power of man and beast. And when all had fled, Odin the Allfather set the great stone slab called Gjöll upon the mouth of the cave, to seal in the Vánagandr until the Ragnarök when he would break free of Gleipnir’s bonds and meet his fate in battle with the gods.

It is said that the blood of Fenrisúlfr retained the power gifted to him by the seid, and that his sons Sköll and Hati carried it out into the world and passed it on to their sons, who passed it on in turn, and so on again and again. But it is said that Sköll, who went with men and chased the sun, had his power weaken over time until it was almost all gone. Hati, who chased the moon and went with the wolves of his father, passed his blood sparingly and so retained its gifts but so too its curses. For Fenrisúlfr did not merely gain the strength and cunning of the wolves. The seid awakened the beast inside him, and the power of seid ensorcelled him beyond the limits of mortals. He had strength and cunning, but so too did he hunger and push his unbound potential without restraint. So his sons passed on this story to their sons, that those who carried the blood of Fenrisúlfr might not again cause the gods to fear them and seek to undo them completely.

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