SAGA

My name is Thorfast Skaldi and my purpose is to record the deeds of heros, in order to inspire those who might come after. But I was born too late. In the days of my grandfather,so I am told, there was no shortage of heroes. That is no longer true.
When my comrade Ulrik Weston fell at The Battle of The Rosie Hill, I thought it possible that my lifes task fell with him.
I knew of no great living man. This world is corrupted by the Christ-God and the hearts of men are corrupted by gold. The heroes are with Odin.
I knew not what to do.
Only the joys of mead and of women were true to me.

'... off his head, drank his mead hoarde, and laughed amid the ruins of his hall', the fat man said with pride.
'That is why one ought not to get between him and his women!' the tall man said.
'Aye!' the fat man laughed. 'Not if you like living!'
'Who do you speak of?' I asked them, for they sat opposite me in the merry mead hall..
'Who? Who?' the fat man cried.
'Who?' I repeated.
'He does not ken Wolfrik Wolfeater!' the tall man roared.
'Who is Wolfrik Wolfeater?' I asked.
'Who are you, who does not know Wolfrik Wolfeater?' the tall man asked.
My patients was tested.
'And why do you not ken and want to ken?' asked the fat man.
'I am Thorfas Skaldi and I would meet with this Wolfrik Wolfeater and add my saga words to his fame hoarde.'
'Wolfrik Wolfeater has no shortage of fame,'the fat man said sternly.
'But fame is like mead, a man can always have more,' I said.
'True words, well said,' agreed the tall man.
'Is he here in the hall?'I asked.
'Were he here in the hall he would have drank your mead and split your skull for your ignorance,' the tall man said.
'Have you women?' asked the fat man.
'No.' 
'Good', the fat man laughed. 'Had you women, they would have forgotten your carrion corpse and flocked to Wolfrik Wolfeater's bed!'
'Where is he found?' I ignored the insult for a greater need.
'Last I heard, he feasted and fought in the mighty long hall of Earl Grimiof Norden Land.

To be continued...