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Description

For this one, I couldn't help it; I wrote a story to go with it. Hope you like it! (It won't make much sense unless you're pretty familiar with Norse Mythology.)

“Bring it forth, Nidhogg,” Fenrir growled impatiently. Nidhogg looked at Fenrir timidly. At length, he extended his clawed hand and revealed a small glass vial nestled in his palm.
                “Good,” Fenrir whispered. He finally seemed satisfied. Still, Nidhogg’s claws clicked anxiously on the glass floor. He didn’t like the island Lyngvi, and he liked the dungeons below it even less. The Fenris Wolf sat on his haunches, the fetters that bound him shifted, glowing and disappearing like a mirage. The only lasting clue that the fetter even existed was the silken ribbon about the wolf’s neck. Sewn on the fabric were runes of the wolf’s name, along with binding spells the dwarves added for security.
                Not wanting to spend more time than necessary on Fenrir’s island, Nidhogg removed the stopper of the vial. He poured the liquid it contained into the air before him, and the droplets hung suspended in the mist.
                “Water from Mimir’s spring, show me what Ragnarok will bring,” Fenrir murmured. Nidhogg cupped one hand under the mystic water and blew a stream of dragon fire at it. The droplets melted together, forming one orb that swelled and glowed above Nidhogg’s hand. Suddenly, images sprang to life within the orb, clear and ominous.
                First will come the winter, Fimbulvetr, which is three winters without the reprieve of summer. Then the wolves will seize and devour the sun and moon. Yggdrasil will tremble so violently that the trees will be uprooted, mountains will crumble, and all fetters and bonds will be severed. Naglfar will set sail. Surtur’s giants will descent from Muspell and destroy the bifrost bridge. Heimdall will sound his horn and the Æsir and the Einherjar will arm themselves. Surtur will set the world ablaze after killing Frej, Jormungand and Thor will slay each other, The Fenris Wolf will swallow Odin, but the noble god Vidar will tear the wolf’s throat asunder, and that will be his death…
                “Enough,” Fenrir barked. He broke the spell, and in doing so, vaporized the spring’s water. He closed his eyes. All fetters and bonds will be severed…Vidar will tear the wolf’s throat asunder…
                “Nidhogg.”
                “Yes?” Nidhogg’s rasping, hissing voice replied uneasily. He didn’t like Fenrir’s tone. The wolf’s eyes opened. They were glowing red, like coals.
                “Nidhogg,” he repeated, “I want you to run another errand for me.” He leaned forward, and his eyes blazed brighter. His helm gleamed wetly in the murky half-light. “I don’t care what the Norn’s have woven. ‘Vidar is destined to survive Ragnarok.’ Huh! Find this noble god Vidar, Nidhogg, and kill him.”

Description

For this one, I couldn't help it; I wrote a story to go with it. Hope you like it! (It won't make much sense unless you're pretty familiar with Norse Mythology.)

“Bring it forth, Nidhogg,” Fenrir growled impatiently. Nidhogg looked at Fenrir timidly. At length, he extended his clawed hand and revealed a small glass vial nestled in his palm.
                “Good,” Fenrir whispered. He finally seemed satisfied. Still, Nidhogg’s claws clicked anxiously on the glass floor. He didn’t like the island Lyngvi, and he liked the dungeons below it even less. The Fenris Wolf sat on his haunches, the fetters that bound him shifted, glowing and disappearing like a mirage. The only lasting clue that the fetter even existed was the silken ribbon about the wolf’s neck. Sewn on the fabric were runes of the wolf’s name, along with binding spells the dwarves added for security.
                Not wanting to spend more time than necessary on Fenrir’s island, Nidhogg removed the stopper of the vial. He poured the liquid it contained into the air before him, and the droplets hung suspended in the mist.
                “Water from Mimir’s spring, show me what Ragnarok will bring,” Fenrir murmured. Nidhogg cupped one hand under the mystic water and blew a stream of dragon fire at it. The droplets melted together, forming one orb that swelled and glowed above Nidhogg’s hand. Suddenly, images sprang to life within the orb, clear and ominous.
                First will come the winter, Fimbulvetr, which is three winters without the reprieve of summer. Then the wolves will seize and devour the sun and moon. Yggdrasil will tremble so violently that the trees will be uprooted, mountains will crumble, and all fetters and bonds will be severed. Naglfar will set sail. Surtur’s giants will descent from Muspell and destroy the bifrost bridge. Heimdall will sound his horn and the Æsir and the Einherjar will arm themselves. Surtur will set the world ablaze after killing Frej, Jormungand and Thor will slay each other, The Fenris Wolf will swallow Odin, but the noble god Vidar will tear the wolf’s throat asunder, and that will be his death…
                “Enough,” Fenrir barked. He broke the spell, and in doing so, vaporized the spring’s water. He closed his eyes. All fetters and bonds will be severed…Vidar will tear the wolf’s throat asunder…
                “Nidhogg.”
                “Yes?” Nidhogg’s rasping, hissing voice replied uneasily. He didn’t like Fenrir’s tone. The wolf’s eyes opened. They were glowing red, like coals.
                “Nidhogg,” he repeated, “I want you to run another errand for me.” He leaned forward, and his eyes blazed brighter. His helm gleamed wetly in the murky half-light. “I don’t care what the Norn’s have woven. ‘Vidar is destined to survive Ragnarok.’ Huh! Find this noble god Vidar, Nidhogg, and kill him.”