Deliver us, O Lord, from the fury of the Northmen . . .
Wyrd is fate, and fate is inexorable beneath the leaden winter skies of the Northlands. Where raging storms, some sent by malevolent spirits of the Ginnungagap, howl from the Far North and bury steadings and towns alike under several feet of snow while unnamed things of tooth and shadow hunt those who dare to emerge and brave the cold. Where... [click here for more]
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