The strong northern wind whipped up the loose leaves freshly fallen from the trees either side of the darkened path. The rain crashed down upon the mulch of mud and leaves creating a bog of sticky brown earth that clung to everything that dared enter it's watery hole. Nothing had passed this way for many days and the track was covered with the foliage that fell from those tall oak trees so that the path itself was barely visible. Thunder echoed across the woodland and lightening broke the dark skies with an illuminatingly fervent display as though Thor himself was beating on the clouds with his famed hammer, Mjolnir.
A buck deer ran through an opening in the trees onto the path but was unaware of the shadowed presence mere feet away. The deer stopped, an unknown smell caught its nose but in the tumult of the storm the deer knew not whether to be afraid or to linger a moment longer. A rustle in the trees behind gave the deer indication enough to speed headlong into the woodland on the other side of the now almost invisible path.
The rustle, barely audible above the winds and rain became more prominent, the sound of twigs snapping under foot, branches being wrenched from trunks, something big was stirring in the undergrowth. From this darkened path and with the storm breaking loudly all around, you would easily be forgiven in thinking this was an ancient tree falling from grace, its green topped head leaving the great canopy to rest eternally on the woodland floor. But there was no silence following the initial sounds. No, this was coming from something moving in the night, something big making its way through the old gnarled oak trees, its path uncertain but its direction almost pointed.
Thunder roared in the sky, its murmurs echoing from the mountains off to the east of the woodland path. Lightening blistered the cloud filled sky, its forks stretching from their heavenly abode across the great blanket and down towards the sodden ground. One bolt struck the top of a great oak, the sound was almost deafening and the sparks littered the path as though a hundred fireflies had been swatted from the sky.
As the great oak bowed its head, losing its uppermost branches in a gulf of flame, a solid, gigantic foot stepped on to the path displacing the dirt and leaves in one monstrous step. Mud and filth streamed from it like water from a babbling brook, broken branches and twigs clung to the hair covering the ankle and foot like sheepskin boots, rotten smelling flesh seeped from between the huge toes like puss from an enraged boil.
That foot was joined by another, a shadowed monolith like figure stretched out from the dark of the woodland and stood taller than a man on that dark and storm filled path. Lightening broke the dark skies again but the thunder that followed was as though the Gods themselves were screaming. This figure, roared, its arms held aloft to the skies, it's huge mouth opened showing its great brown and yellow stained jagged teeth, the stench of death on its breath bellowed into the skies joined the winds that were ripping at every part of this woodland. It's eyes, dark pools of solid black, looked into those clouds and it roared again, as if to scare a hole into the storm, to break through the cloud that reached from the treetops to the heavens. It's roars were answered with yet another clap of thunder, this one louder than the last, lightening breaking the skies apart, the clouds whipping like the sea, their tops folding into one another like waves breaking against cliffs.
And then silence.
The giant figure stopped roaring, it's eyes peeled from the heavens to the sudden single shaft of light coursing down from clouds to ground. The figures feet squared across the path which was blown clear of all debris by the storm winds that suddenly subsided. An eerie calm fell across this woodland as though the eye of the storm stood proudly above peering down on the devastation caused by its outer flanks. And from this shaft of light stepped a smaller figure, in stature alone but carrying an air of power and authority. The red hair reached down to his waste, his beard a mass of red stuck strikingly from chin to chest, muscles ripped across the torso and body of this newcomer and in his hands, was a hammer.
'Giant' yelled this red haired newcomer, 'I thought you all but dead?'
The hairy and rotten smelling figure raised a hand as if to silence this red haired upstart, a groan creaked from the giant, its knees buckled and it grasped the top of a nearby oak tree as if to steady itself.
The newcomer approached, hammer slung over naked shoulder in an almost cocky manner. Again he spoke, 'Giant, will you yield before me and allow me the pleasure of escorting you to the realm from which you are meant to reside within?'
This giant figure, breath shallow, steadied by hundred year old oaks, dripping in dirt and filth, made no sign of acknowledgement.
The Hammer swung from shoulder and landed deftly in the bearers other hand, he paced ever forward to the great hulk of a beast leaning so uneasily against the tops of these ancient oaks, the glimmer of hope crossed his eyes as he approached.
'I will not ask you again Giant, will you take to the knee and allow me the service of returning you to whence you came?'
And at that moment, time seemed to freeze. The wind was gone, the rain had stopped, the sky was like a dark and silent river, smooth and deep. The Giant lurched, more power emanating from that grotesque body than was thought possible, its steps long and determined, its eyes set upon its prey. With one bound, the giant stood with the red haired figure clenched within its fist, his neck and shoulders easily wrapped by the giants fingers.
'You should be more mindful of your words and to whom you speak them too' the giant growled at his handful, 'for I am no mere giant. I have come to claim what is mine and take back what was stolen from my Grandfather.'
The red haired figure could hardly breath let alone challenge the giant. The fingers tightened around his neck, this red haired man's face turning a deep crimson.
'Your Father and his Brothers killed my Grandfather.' roared the giant.
Still the grip tightened around the red haired figures neck, the veins seemingly leaping from his skin as if ready to snap.
Rain started to fall again, the wind slowly started to return to the woodland. The trees and the mountains watched as the giant held his prey clenched solidly in his grasp.
'Go home Aesir, tell your Father I am coming, tell him that not even all the armies of Valholl and Folkvangr combined can stop what is coming. Tell him, that Ragnarok has dawned and his death with be at my hands.'
The giant launched the red haired man across the woodland path towards the shaft of light still reaching down from the heavens, so that the breathless body slammed down into the rain soaked mud floor with an almighty thump.
The red haired man raised himself slowly, gasping for breath, unable to stand fully on his own. All might and conceitedness gone. 'Who are you?' he quivered.
The giant, stood tall, menacing and huge, his earlier need for tree top support gone, a fire danced in those black pits called eyes. The stench of death and the grime that clung to his body seemed to be running from him as if this violence washed him clean.
'Tell your Father that I, Bergelmir, Son of Thrudgelmir and Grandson of Ymir, have come to take back what is rightfully mine, everything! Ragnarok has begun and I am the bringer of your doom!'
And with that, the Giant turned and walked back into the woods. Lightening flashed and thunder boomed and the red haired man had gone. And the woodland once again was filled by storm, leaves flew from branches, trees bowed in the wind and mud grew thicker with rain. Yet a chill had come now, blown from the North, the Fimbul wind, the third of the harsh winters.
Ragnarok was looming.
