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DONAR
Sat Aug 12, 2006 at 07:14:21 am EDT
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Don't say I didnt warn you..."When Donar met Annj IV"
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When Donar met Annj IV



“It should be known.” The Ausgardian demigod threatened dramatically “That I hath been upon Middlegard’s surface long before now…and in fact did createth a home to rival e’en Emoh S’ranod’s spires in Ausgard. So hear me well when I doth sayeth that I needeth not thine cleaning skill twixt mine walls in thy mansion.”

Fleabot, however, was not perturbed by swaggery, be it accompanied by an enchanted weapon or not. “Look, this’ll only take a sec. Visz was here last night engaged in some saga about something or other and may have left a very important piece of paper behind. If I can just take a look in there and see if…wait. What home here?”

Donar feigned ignorance, something he did not usually need to feign. “Home? Who spoketh of ancient homes? Not I.”

“Sure you did.” Fleabot pursued. “You just said you made a home here long before..”

“He’s right, D.” Lisa said in passing while munching on a cruller. “Do you have another house here somewhere? Cause that would be cool. We could renovate it and have a TV crew and everything. I’m always up for a little exposure.”

“But.” Donar began to reply before Yo bounded over. “There is a new house to be having us in there is??” He/she enthused. “We can fill it with wonderful bunnies! Wonderful many bunnies!”

Donar’s palm covered his face before sliding down forcefully and pulling at his beard, a habit the others had recognised as him wishing he’d not spoken. He looked at the three eager faces staring at him and couldn’t help feeling that he’d been outwitted. A feeling that under other circumstances could be overruled by merciless whomping.

“Damned tongue. Very well, come in. There is a saga to finish.”




In the days of Yore and several yesteryears ago there was a God of Thunder. He was loved by those who worshipped him and feared by those who did not. He was a mighty God with a fierce passion for the storm of war and the lightning of destruction. It was because of this that the God of Thunder would often step down from his home in the sky to visit and fight alongside his chosen warriors, the Northmen, leading them into battle against Kings and other Gods alike. His lust for battle was rivalled only by his lust for food and wine, for he had no Goddess to temper his ways.

But the God of Thunder was not supposed to join the frays of Man. His place was to oversee their world and achievements, not to take part in them. He has ignored his role and as such needed discipline, both for his own good and the future of Man.

The God of Gods spoke to his son the God of Thunder and told him he must not interfere with the world of Man, for he was a God of Thunder and it was not his right to interfere. The God of Thunder bellowed with rage and told his father that the Northmen were the strongest men in the world of Man and he would lead them to victory over the other mortals and their Gods. The God of Thunder then cast aside the gates of his father’s house and left, telling his father that he was not an insolent child to be spoken down to.

But the God of Gods knew better, because he was the God of Thunder’s father and had seen many of his tantrums long before this one. He also knew that if the God of Thunder was allowed to deliver on his promise to the Northmen then there would be repercussions. Not just from other Gods, but from Those above them.



“So I suppose there’s some sort of huge mystical doodad you need to get to win Annj back from Captain Creepy, right? You ‘Gods’, you always leave your magical hoozits lying around.” Fleabot commented as he perched on the rim of Yo’s hat.

“Actually, nay. All I needed to do was defeat a Demon that resided in Fyrlandr and bring his remains to Slithis and my quest wert completeth.”

“So where is being Fyrlandr?” Yo queried. “Because it is not to be sounding nice like a place of good would.”

“That is where we begin, friend Yo. Fyrlandr.”



Donar stood on the vaguely familiar island of Surtsey looking over the shores of Iceland. He had seen it from above many times, but could not remember ever actually being here. Thusly, his familiarity with the landscape confused him somewhat. He knew that to get to Fyrlandr he had to start on Surtsey and travel down, but without Mjalcolm to find the way for him, he was suddenly unsure of whether he could. “Tis but doubt, the warrior’s greatest foe. I knoweth mine heart art true and verily shalt I find Fyrland’s gate, Mjalcolm or nay…tis time for mine third ally…NIKT’U!”

“Cooool.” Lisa suddenly said from beside him. “Volcano sex dream.”

“Milady Lisa…tis not a dream.” Donar corrected.

“Then won’t the volcano sex be kinda fatal?” she enquired.

“Ha! Thou art quiteth the jester milady. Nay, thou art mine guide on a quest. Like Enty and Visz before thee, thou can aide me in mine goal and tell the saga of my deeds shouldest I perish in the attempt.”

“ OK, it’s a questy-thing. I can get questish. Quest away.”

“I will whenst thou stops sayingeth ‘quest’.”

“Spoilsport.”


And so the God of Gods did call upon the Goddess of Lust to seduce his son and distract him from battle, for an enraged God’s mind cannot be forced or coerced of his goals, merely sidetracked. And the Goddess of Lust did sing a song of magic that calmed the God of Thunder’s rage and led him to forget the frays of the Northmen.

For a thousand mortal years did she quell the God of Thunder’s thirst for battle with lust until eventually they both drifted into heavy slumber, some say forgotten by the realm of mortals altogether, for they did not dwell in that realm or their own. Through the God of God’s magics they inhabited a solitary place between the two worlds that kept the God of Gods unaware of the realm of man.



“So you were in Iceland?” Lisa asked, “..and I was in Iceland too? Cause I don’t remember ever being in Iceland. And considering I sleep naked, does that mean that I was..”

“Aye..and, nay.” Donar began to explain. “Aye, we wert in Iklandr….Iceland…on a volcanic island called Surtsey. Nay, thou wert not naked for thy form wert astral and ethereal. Thou didst not e’en appear to me as mortal truth be told..



“What the frick is with my hands, big guy? Am I seeing stars, or am I actually..you know…stars?” Lisa questioned as Donar trekked towards a cave he was not sure was even there.

“Thy form art most beauteous, milady Lisa. Thou hast indeed taken a celestial form for thyself.” Donar understated. In fact, Lisa shone like stars could only dream. She was a spectral blue constellation floating beside the Demigod in his endeavours.

“Here ‘tis!” Donar exclaimed with a mix of surprise and relief. “Fyrlandr’s gate twixt Iklandr’s walls. But to open it I will require the elements as an offering.”

“Like that movie?”

“Nay” Donar laughed. “There art not Five Elements..nor are there four. There are but two. Fire and Ice.” He did not have to go far to find either, a nearby bush was easily lit by some uncooled lava and ice was in abundance. He placed both at the entrance to the cave and took a step back as the earth opened beneath him, revealing a jagged stone spiral staircase that seemed to go down to the Earth’s core.

That’s because it did.



The God of Thunder’s thirst for war was not easily quenched and took its toll on the realms of both Gods and Man.

In the world of Man, the seas boiled and the sky rained fire close to the space where the God of Thunder and the Goddess of Lust fed on each other’s desires. The seabed gave birth to a great volcano that threatened to split the world of Man in two until it was cooled by the embrace of the sea. It was from this steaming volcano that Iklandr was born, and below the ice flowed the fiery veins of Fyrlandr.

In the world of Gods, The God of Thunder’s actions in the world of Man had drawn the wrath of Those above the Gods. But they stayed their hands for a moment when they saw the plan that the God of Gods had created for they were intrigued.

Regardless, Those above the Gods decided that it was still best to strike when the God of Thunder awoke, for the good of all.



“Just a little farther down, milady!” Donar shouted into the maelstrom of fire that ripped at his flesh. “When the Fyrstorm dost ease off, we shalt be in Sanguine’s reach.”

“Who’s Sanguine? I’m sorry for all the exposition I’m forcing out of you here, big guy, but if I have to guide you I feel like I should at least have half a clue of what I’m doing down here.”

“Sanguine is a Demon, like many who dwell in Fyrlandr. He is not ‘evil’ as thou might expect Demons to be, for good and evil are relatively mortal concepts that fail to encompass those of a non mortal nature. He is actually somewhat of a happy fellow..but he is of blood, so his happiness should be treated with caution.”

“He’s of blood?” Lisa shouted back over the continuing roar of fire and wind “What does that mean, ‘He’s of blood’?”. She continued to shout until the end of her question echoed in the sudden silence from the now absent fire storm.

“It means I’m a part of every living creature, silly! Hi there, I’m Sanguine, delighted to meet you! And you are?” Said the colossal blood red Demon with a horn protruding from where his left eye should be.

“…..” Lisa replied, not quite ready to accept the presence of a colossal blood red Demon with a horn protruding from where his left eye should be. Donar stepped between his companion and his foe.

“Sanguine. I art..”

“Donar, sure, Hi! I know of you, my friend, Can I get you anything? Tea, Coffee? Diet Coke? I’m sooo glad you decided to drop in!” Sanguine gushed optimistically.
“Please make yourselves at home.” The great Demon continued, moving with a grace that defied his dinosaur-like stature.

“..can we get to the killing and leaving part, D?” Lisa whispered. “This guy’s got a real Hannibal Lecter vibe to him.”

“Verily.” Donar muttered in agreement. “Sanguine, as guests of thy..home…’twould be of bad form to accept thy hospitalities before slaying thee. So whilst thy gratuities art most appreciated, I feel thou should knowest that we…”

“Oh, Donar, your directness fills me with joy. It will indeed be an honor for me to slay you, as I know I will.” Saguine interrupted with a confident grin.

“Right then. Prepare thyself.” Donar invited, drawing back his fist.

“I’m prepared already. I’ve been waiting for you to return since you left here a thousand years ago.”

“But I’ve never..” Donar began before Sanguine bitchslapped him 10 feet deep into the slate cavern walls.




The God of Thunder awoke with his mind hazed by magics. He looked for his Northmen, but they were not to be seen. Their kin now graced the land he saw below him (They had named it ‘Iceland’). He looked for swords, but saw only hoes. He looked for longships and berserks, but saw only ploughs and farmers. His time was done.

It was then that Those above the Gods struck, sending the God of Thunder deep below the surface of the world of Men, through the cleansing fires of the core until he rose again through the other side of the world of Men where he paused for a moment on an island unknown by other Men. The God of Thunder held firm to this terra australis for but an instant before he was ripped clear from the world of Men forever.



“And then you kicked his ass, right?” Fleabot assumed while surreptitiously eyeing the room for any sign of the mystery scrap of paper Visz had lost the previous night. “It is what you do.”

“Please to be saying yes?” Yo begged from behind his/her hands. She/He had been drawn in by the promise of magical floppy bunnies and was not at all amused to hear of Donar being thrown around like a bloodied ragdoll.

“If my memory dost serve me..” Donar continued.



A groan emitted from the Donar-shaped hole in the wall. “Thou willst payeth for that, base Demon.” The Demigod continued as he clawed his way out of the shattered rock.

“You’re not getting angry are you Thunder God? We wouldn’t want that now would we?” Sanguine mocked joyfully as he rammed a stalactite into the hole, effectively trapping the hemigod.

“I getteth not angry.” Donar replied punching an exit hole next to his entry and following up by landing a successful blow under Sanguine’s jaw. “I getteth even.”
Donar’s blow did little to slow the Demon as he returned the attack in kind by trying to impale Donar on his eyehorn, but the demigod managed to elude a fatal piercing by running up Sanguine’s arm and down over his back.

“Come now ‘God of Thunder’.” Sanguine spat, wrenching his horn from the floor and spinning to face Donar again. “Is this really what you want?” hex runes swarming from his mouth and distorting the demigod’s vision. I am in the blood of all creatures, even your Ichor. I know what you truly desire.”

Donar staggered, looking to Lisa to ground him but he saw instead Freyja, the Ausgardian Goddess of Lust and Beauty. He tried to blink it away as she spoke to him. “Donar, snap out of it…he’s using a spell!” but all he heard was “God of Thunder, you have failed..all the Norsemen fell!”

And then, he fell too.

When he awoke his mind was hazed by magics. He was unsure of the time but a vaguely familiar Goddess stood laughing before him. Was it Freyja? She seemed more…’Mythic’..than Freyja though.

Sanguine whispered poison in his ear. “She stopped you from joining the fray. The last of your chosen fell in Hastings. The Northmen are no more.”

In Fyrlandr, Lisa hung by her wrists, imprisoned by arcane hex runes, similar to those that now left Donar sitting on the ground, whispering with a demon on the far side of the cavern. It wasn’t the first time she’d been tied up, but it was by far the least pleasurable. She could only watch as Sanguine handed Donar a clawlike Ebony dagger and pointed at her. She saw no hint of recognition in Donar’s eyes as he approached. His soft brown eyes now seemed to burn as embers, distorting his face into a mask of rage. He spoke. “You. You stopped…Me?”

“Do it, ‘God of Thunder’. Spill the blood of the Goddess.”

“Spill the..HEY!” Lisa objected. “I’m no frikkin’ Goddess! Donar! Snap the Hell out of it or so help me..” Donar struggled within himself, slowing his approach and his grip on the Ebony blade.

“It is of no consequence, mortal. You have the Goddess within you as all mortal women do. Once the God of Thunder tears your flesh, the Goddess blood will flow.” Sanguine narrated.

“I’m a bloody star chart! I pass through walls! A knife won’t hurt me, and even if it did? It’s Donar! He’d never let harm come to me.” Lisa noted.
“Yet you hang from my hexrunes? You are not ethereal now, pretty one. Your lights still shine as before but will fade with your life. He does not see with the eyes of your Donar…his is the God of Thunder now. He is pure, untainted by the Celestian’s curse and the God of Gods magics. All he knows is he was to rule this world and you stopped him from doing it.”

The God of Thunder tightened his grip on the blade and continued forth, raising it above his head for a fatal strike.

“I stopped h…? What the Hell are you tal..”

“You’re the Goddess of Lust now. The original. At least to Him you are. Her…Your dalliance with him bore only more rage that cannot..”

“DONAR!” Lisa snapped at the God of Thunder/Donar. “IT’S A TRICK! YOU’RE BEING FOOLED!!” Donar fought to drop the blade as the God of Thunder struggled to pierce the Goddess’s chest. Lisa strained forward and and forced Donar’s/the God of Thunder’s eyes to meet her own. “If what Sanjy says is true, you missed a battle…but you gained a son. Is Harlagaz something you would reject?”

Lisa grimaced as the God of Thunder’s left hand drove the blade down towards her chest with enough force to tear her in half, which made her all the more thankful that Donar’s right hand caught it in time. It was a sight to behold as two Gods fought for control of one body. Donar’s sinews strained against himself as the blade fell to the ground and he punched himself in the face. The God of Thunder struggled but was floored when Lisa decided to help by landing a well aimed foot in his crotch. Unfortunately for Donar, while that forced the influence of the God of Thunder from his body, it left him behind to deal with the agony. He did so by falling to the floor and whimpering.

“Sorry! I..uh…wanted to help?” Lisa apologised.

“NO! He slays you, I get the blood and I control mortal and God alike to rule Middlegard!” Sanguine hissed in a fit of rage, losing his command of the hex runes and inadvertently freeing Lisa. “I’ll kill you myself with the Darkblade if I have to!”. Lisa grabbed the obsidian dagger from near her feet and lunged arm the Demon’s outstretched arm. Her aim was true and her blow should have impaled Sanguine’s hand to the floor, but the blade merely glanced off his hard leathery skin to no effect and rattled across the stone floor.

“Foolish mortal.” Sanguine gushed, smiling again. “No weapon can pierce my skin.”

“We shalt see abouteth that, felon.” Donar roared, leaping to his feet and wrenching Sanguine’s eyehorn from its socket. The beast let loose a howl of pain and fell away from both the hemigod and the advocatrix. “AAARGH! YOU HAVE STOLEN MY HORN OF TRUE SIGHT!”

“Mine apologies. Then I shouldst returneth it then, henceforth.” Donar opined, driving the pointy end of the horn into Sanguine’s gut and out through his bellowing mouth. The demon burst into flame in an instant before being reduced to a pile of ashes, leaving only a large bloodied horn.



“So you beat him. I just said you would.” Fleabot noted.

“Aye, but that wert not the end of mine quest”

Lisa and Donar stepped out of the Fyrland gate as the fyrstorm roared anew.
“Now what?” Lisa asked.
“I believe we art abouteth to findeth out.” Donar answered as they and Sanguine’s Horn began to fade from the World of Man.



The God of Thunder as he was know was no more. By the cunning of his father the God of Gods his obliteration at the hands of Those above the Gods had been averted. In his place stood another who would wield the thunder, but had been tempered by part of the world of Man. This Terra Australis…the ‘Great Southern Land’..was part of this God and the Realm of Gods.

His threat ended, Those above the Gods were sated and the God of Gods had saved his son.


It’s what any good father would do.


In Miserablegitheim, Donar and Lisa appeared in Slithis’s courtyard. Annj and Slithis stood hidden in shadows upon a parapet high above them. “Well done, Thunderer. I have to admit I’m surprised you made it this far.” Slithis hissed though jagged teeth.

“I knew you would return.” Annj whispered to herself, hiding a grin from her captor.

“The quest is done, Slithis.” Donar demanded. “Your artifacts art delivered unto thee as per the agreement. Thou hast lost thy claim to Annj’s hand. Release her.”

“I believe that I agreed to your escorting her home, and to no longer warring with her borders, am I correct?” the Necromancer spat with an unnerving grin.

“Aye…” Donar confirmed warily.

“Really, Oldmanson, thou dost maketh this too easy for me…I said not when thou couldst escort her, only that though couldst…I also said that there would be no warring with her borders because in your absence her borders are no more…Wjodonheim is mine to claim! My undead Army of Darkness overran the land whilst you blundered though caves and pits of fire and will strike when I give the word…or should I say when you do..”

“FOUL BEAST!” Donar raged at the Necromancer above him. “Ne’er would I lead thy dead to aide thee!”

“Quite the contrary. When you kill you, thou will be my strongest warrior.” Slithis stepped forth from the dark to show he was now wearing the impenetrable Verleitung armor. “That Yggcalyptus sap thou brough didst allow me entry into this fine armor, so my thanks to thee..and as for the Horn and Sanguine.” He waved his hand and the horn was wrenched from Donar’s grasp un up into his own. “This will allow me to impale thee and trap thy soul into my servitude.” He watched as Donar instinctively reached for Mjalcolm on his belt. “Yes, I’m sure thou wanteth thy bat to tryeth and smite me…but ‘tis here still.” He pulled the bound Annj form the shadows beside him. “You can see that to call thy weapon to thy aide will surely lead Annj to fall to her death. The only way thou can stop me is to kill Annj.”

Donar’s face drained of all color. What Slithis said was true. He had no subtle control of Mjalcolm’s return to his hand. All hope seemed lost until Lisa smiled and spoke.

“I summons Annj.”

In a flash, Annj stood beside them, unharmed and out of immediate peril. Slithis stepped forth on the parapet and cursed them all. “TIS OF NO USE! DEADITES! TAKE THEM!! LEAVE THE THUNDERER FOR ME!!”

Donar called Mjalcolm from behind Slithis, knocking the Necromancer to his apparent demise. He had not counted on the Verleitung armour’s defensive capabilities however, and stood amazed as the Necromancer dusted himself off and lead his zombie and skeletal hordes towards him. Donar, Lisa and Annj struggled against the Deadites, but it was of no use. Their numbers were too many and where one fell, three would take its place. Before long Donar, Annj and Lisa were being held against a wall by rotting skeletal hands while Slithis gloated before them in triumph.

“Thank you Oldmanson.” He began. “Without thy aide, I could ne’er have gotten this far…and when thou art mine minion thou can escort thy dead beloved home and slay her family. Then? Ausgard is our oyster.”

“Thou art a fool, Slithis.” Annj chided. “Dost thou truly think the Oldmanson art not prepared for thy perfidy?”

“She’s right, Slimy.” Lisa agreed. “He’s a big dumb ox, but he’s not stupid. Anytime you’re ready with the big plan, D. Just…you know…hit him with it.”

“I haveth no plan for battle.” Donar confessed and hung his head. “The dead shall win this day. I only have words that I wish to be remembered by.”

“Then speak them, and be done, Oldmanson.” Slithis invited. “We’re all ears.”

Donar grinned and looked Slithis in the eye. “Vera frjáls. Eyðileggja þinn fangavörður.”

Their Deadite captors heard these words and turned their gaze towards Slithis. They were not happy. “What did you say!?” Slithis demanded, stumbling backwards in a vain attempt to evade his once loyal horde.

“When I hung upon Yggcalyptus, I had a vision..her life fluids mixed with my own and I received a gift. The Elder Tongues are mine to hold, but I know not for how long..”

“You know…” Slithis cringed.

“…the language of the Dead.” Annj confirmed. “I told you he was prepared for thee.”

The rotting masses tore at buildings all over Miserablegitheim. They had been told they were free, and they could destroy their jailer…and they weren’t wasting any time.



“Awesome. Zombies ripped down the bad guy’s city? They didn’t just wander about the mall?” Fleabot enquired. “I think Visz has been lying to me.”

“Aye, the undead hordes ripped Miserablegitheim to shreds and returned to their graves to rest.”

“But what about Slimey’s Armor…how’d they get through it?”

“Who said they did?”



Where once Miserablegitheim stood as an affront to life, there was now only the ruins of a city slowly being covered by greenery. In time its history would fade and a lush forest would claim the land once again defining the new borders of Wjodonheim.

The dead remained in their tombs where they belonged and rested for eternity. Beside them lay an immortal Necromancer in an indestructible tomb. He was not as silent as his roommates, but his cries would never be heard.



In Ausgard Donar had escorted Annj home. He found it ironic that he had been blessed with ancient tongues but was unable to find the words to express his feelings to Annj. As they stood silently at her door he simply looked at her, trying to speak more times than he could count. In the end, it was Annj that spoke first.

“Aye. As do I.”

Their lips met and they shared a kiss that had no equal in the history of the realm of Gods.

The End


The Beginning.







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