Visigothic_The Barbarians Of Midgard

by Jay P Newcomb

  It was then that Gedron saw the ice changing to a landscape of green valleys and waterfalls. There was a city, laid out in a circle with a massive crystal palace in the centre, standing on an acropolis which was shaped like a six-pointed star. It looked like two intersecting triangles. They seemed to pass through an invisible force, like a dome which covered the city, keeping out the bitter Karelian cold. There were thousands of Elves walking in the night streets, and lights could be seen from the windows of four-storey apartment buildings constructed of crystal white granite.

  “We are here, Gedron. Very few have been the non-Elves to see our kingdom,” said Shlomael. Gedron was speechless as they descended to the top of the great palace of Yoshael, which from high above, one could see that it was shaped like a huge star, consisting of two interlocking triangles, and the whole structure glowed with blue and white light, the pure radiance of beauty and holiness, sitting atop and arcropolist in the centre of the great city, Suomi.

  Then, all of the sudden, they were no longer standing on top, but were inside a crystal chamber in which there sat a great and nearly transparent crystal ball. It seemed as if they had come out of the orb itself. Gedron was amazed at all of this, especially when he saw the physical body of Shlomael lying upon a soft white couch, sound asleep. He looked at the body and then back at the Spirit of Shlomael with a quizzical look and the Spirit of Shlomael replied, “Yes, it is I, my friend. Your body is doing the same thing back in Thorstadt.”

  A door opened and a very elegant old Wizard entered. He was tall and thin with a very long, white, pointed beard. He carried a staff and wore long flowing white robes and a tall pointed white hat. His hair was long and white-blond with streaks of grey. His smile was pleasant and his teeth brilliant white. He removed his hat and said, “Kalevalin, welcome to Karelia. I am Yoshael.”

  Gedron bowed down and said, “My Lord King.”

  Yoshael walked across the room and sat down in a simple wooden chair. The chamber itself was in the shape of an octagon, with the Orb in the centre. The couches were on each section of the eight sides, where the physical bodies of the Elves would lay in repose, and whom Yoshael would send forth from Karelia on out-of-body missions, known as Night Journeys.

  On the west side was the chair and it seemed as though it was not there to serve as a throne. “Tell me, Lord Gedron, of the Getic? What is happening with your people and what is your request? I know that you are a man of truth and honour in whom there is no guile.”

  Gedron replied, “My Lord King, I ask on behalf of my King, and our allies, that you come to our aid.”

  Yoshael replied, “And why should the Sons of Light, or the Elves for that matter, come to the aid of the Getic or any warring tribe? Since the day I was created after the great flood, the age of Noach has been no better than the one which came before it. What sets this war apart from the many others which continually rage across your world?”

  Gedron knew he must make his case very well and he replied, “We are facing a cruel and terrible enemy who will stop at nothing to enslave us to their new world order. If it were just mere men, we could face down the Slaughter-Wolves ourselves. But that Sorcerer Hister of Dakkia is involved and is using black magic to help the Scythians. He is even trying to dominate our tribal priestesses, to possess them where they can only heal with his power and his permission by sorcery! This will force every being in Midgard under his rule, so it will not be free healing, even though he may claim it. I do not ask merely for myself, Your Majesty, but for the innocent lives who have been cut down without mercy, without trial. We cannot, on our own, defeat Hister’s black magic. Loki must be the evil spirit behind Adawulf Hister. Please, sire, I believe that if Adawulf Hister wins, a terrible thick darkness will mark his reign. Will you help us against the dark power, Your Majesty?”

  Yoshael replied, “We shall indeed, Kalevalin. What say you, Enkelien?”

  A very gracious and beautiful lady Elf seemed to appear from out of nowhere. It was Lady Zakarah, Queen of the Elves. She wore a brilliant white dress which flowed down to her ankles and she had long white-blonde hair streaked with a little grey. Her skin seemed to glow and her ears were small and pointed. She replied, “The Quest Warrior is right, Melchizedek. Darkness will fall if the Son of Nimrod is allowed to go unopposed. His plan must be thwarted or ultimately he will try to come here to Karelia in order to possess the power of the Crystal Star Palace.”

  She walked to the side of King Yoshael and put her hand on his shoulder. “Lord Gedron, I am the Matrona of the Circle of the Spirit Maidens, and we will join the battle.”

  Then Yoshael said, “King Sigurd and King Osrik have sent out Quest Warriors for the others in the east, the centre and the west. I have foreseen that the Dwarf King Togrobeg will send Quest Warriors south to Gobekli Tepe for Yonas and Gleadra, White Wizard and Spirit Maiden of the South. Return now with my son to Thorstadt, and carry the news to Eowythane and King Sigurd. The time of your Sister, Eowythane, has come, Kalevalin. From her womb will come the first-born son of the King, of whom it was prophesied, for it is written:

  ‘Now a great sign was seen in heaven — a woman clothed with the sun, under her feet the moon, and on her head a crown of twelve stars. She was pregnant and about to give birth, and she screamed in the agony of labour. Another sign was seen in heaven: there was a great red dragon with seven heads and ten horns, and on its heads were seven royal crowns. Its tail swept a third of the stars out of heaven and threw them down to the earth. It stood in front of the woman about to give birth, so that it might devour the child the moment it was born. She gave birth to a son, a male child, the one who will rule all the nations with a staff of iron.’

  “These are the stars under which the Man-Child will be born; for they are her stars. And yet there is also the star sign of Dracos, who is Loki, Angel of Darkness.”

  Gedron replied, “Then the Dwarves will join with us? What would bring them to do so now? They have never supported us in the past.”

  She replied, “Times change, Kalevalin, times change.”

  Lord Gedron awoke suddenly, knowing that what he had experienced was no mere dream because the voice of Yoshael was still echoing in his mind. He had fallen asleep fully dressed and, leaping out of his bed, rushed headlong into the corridor, stumbling over Sigmund in the process. They crashed to the floor and Sigmund protested, “Hey, what’s the big idea, Gedry!”

  Gedron got up and pulled his little brother up, saying, “Come on, Siggy, I have good news! Let’s awaken Sigurd and Gwynnalyn!” Sigmund was still sore from his wounds, and came along slowly on his crutch.

  The sons of Volsung came to the door of Sigurd and Gwynnalyn, where two Thanes stood guard, and Gedron knocked loudly. Inside, the King and Queen were not happy to have their sleep disrupted. “This better be important!” declared the King.

  Gedron replied, “It is, my King. I have important news! Siggy and I are here and we must speak with you both about the Wizard.”

  “The Wizard?” asked King Sigurd.

  “OK, wait a moment and I will open the door,” answered the Queen.

  Once inside, Gedron related the entire vision to them and concluded by saying, “King Yoshael said that the Dwarves will support us and have sent out Quest Warriors as well for Yonas and Gleadra.”

  King Sigurd replied, “And how will we know all this? The Dwarves have never supported us in the past. What sign will there be when all this begins?”

  Gedron replied, “Matrona Zakarah and Lady Galorfilinde will arrive in person and not in a vision. King Yoshael will arrive at another time with Prince Shlomael. This was the last thing that they told me before Shlomael flew me back in the spirit. I tell you that it is all true and the most fantastic thing I have ever seen.”

  Sigmund sat there not knowing what to think and so he said nothing. The Queen replied, “Galorfilinde, you say? Now I know it is true, Sigurd. I know it is. We have a new hope.”

  Chapter VI

  Byock

>   From the Skald’s Tale:

  Let us tell of Byock, White Wizard of the East of the Order of the Sons of Light. He was a man from the distant lands of the east in this Midgard, who lived in the great mountains of Shangra-La. He bore a staff of power, the top of which was a great crystal jewel. His mantle was the colour of pure white, as were all those of the Sons of Light. On the back of the robe was a large blue star, formed by two triangles, one facing up and the other down. The robe had a hood which covered his head and was secured in a manner so that the wind would not blow it from off of him. Most of his head was clean shaved, except for a scalp lock which was black and long, coming to the middle of his back. His skin tone was light and yellowish and his face was shaved, with the exception of a mustache, which came down around the sides of his mouth to extend way below his chin by six inches on either side. His eyes were, however, out of character for a man of these eastern lands, for they were sky blue and the light of peace shined forth from them. He was a man in tune with the powers of the universe and called to his work by the one true God Shaddai, through his Messenger Gabriel, also called Gavral. He was given knowledge of all manner of powers by which earth and heavens and stars had been set in order, all created by Shaddai.

  Y oung Byock cried, “You are a god!” and the child fell down to worship him.

  But the Angel bent over and lifted the small frightened boy into his powerful arms and spoke to him in a voice so full of peace that the boy’s fear was soon abated, “No, young Byock, I am not a god. I am but a messenger of God Most High, creator of Asgard and Midgard and Wassergard, and all that is beyond. I am Gavral, come from his Holy Merkavah Throne. For here is the word of Him who speaks and does:

  ‘Before I formed thee in embryo I knew thee; and before thou wast born I sanctified thee, and I ordained thee a prophet to the nations. You shall be a White Wizard, and cast away the darkness of The Black. You shall vanquish at my word the power of witchcraft and so shall your sons and daughters from generation to generation, until the coming of the Day of Judgment, which is Ragnarok.’”

  Little Byock looked at Gavral’s shining face and lifted his arm to shield his tiny eyes and replied, “But, honourable sir, I am but a boy, not even a prince. How can these things be kind, sir?”

  Gavral replied, “Hear again the words of the Eternal Master:

  ‘Say not, I am a child: for thou shalt go to all that I shall send thee, and whatever I command thee thou shalt speak. Be not afraid of their faces: for I am with thee to deliver thee. I shall be your father and thou shalt be my son,’ saith the Shaddai.’”

  Then the Angel put forth his hand, and touched Byock’s mouth. “And Great El Shaddai hath said to me to say unto you thus:

  ‘Behold, I have put my words in thy mouth. See, I have this day set thee over the nations and over the kingdoms of Midgard, to root out, and to pull down, and to destroy, and to throw down, to build, and to plant. You are over man and dwarf, Ogre and Goblin, Draugr and Gnome, Elf and Leprechaun. Even all manner of lesser beasts, but only as long as you trust in me and use not this power to store up treasure in Midgard, but in Asgard. Doing so you shall, upon the passing of your life, walk with me above the highest halls of Valhalla. But in the day you betray this trust, your end shall be swift, for I set up both King and Wizard, and as well pull them down. What say you, child? Shall I send you? The choice is yours, freely to take my yoke of Prophecy upon you and become one of the Sons of Light, or to walk as a mere mortal to the life of a river fisherman. What say you, Byock of Shangra-La?’”

  At that moment, his parents, who had come up from the river with the day’s catch of fine fat fish, saw what was taking place and fell to the ground in terror!

  Gavral turned to them, saying, “Fear not, and only heed what I say concerning this thy son. He is a chosen vessel of the One God, El Shaddai!”

  At that moment lightning flashed and a loud crack of thunder pierced the air and Gavral had made his point very clear to the parents of little Byock. Gavral sat Byock gently down and the boy bowed in the way of Shangra-La, saying, “It is my choice, honourable sir, that I do the will of my Father, the One God El Shaddai, kind sir.”

  The Angel replied, “So shall it be, Byock the White. So let it be written, so let it be done. I shall send unto you mentors and teachers and thou shalt go east to the Monastery of Yerpa to begin your training. In due course of time, the White Wizard of the North, Yoshael the Elf, will summon you far away to the land of Salem to his school. From thence you shall go with him to the land of Forever Ice, where even now his children are building the Crystal Star Palace. From thence, when you are come to your full power as a Son of Light, you shall return to your own place here in Shangra-La as the White Wizard of the East. I foresee that in time you will take a wife, Min Tze of Cathay, daughter of your Mother’s sister Min. It is she who is to be Spirit Maiden of the East, and even now sits at the feet of the Matrona of the Circle of the Spirit Maidens, Zakarah, Queen of Elves.”

  Such was the calling of Byock, many years in the past in the times after the fall of Nimrod and the scattering of languages.

  Now let our story come back to the times of Sigurd the Good and Queen Gwynnalyn the Shield Maid. Far to the west in Scythia-Gelonus, word of the great gathering of the Gomerian tribes at Thorstadt had not gone unnoticed by King Idanthrsus and General Korgan-Tal. A great host was assembling there as the Empire gathered its forces back together from their scattered and far-ranging attempts to run down the Gomerian tribes and their allies, who had once been dispersed into bands from as far north as the ice glaciers and south to the Lofty Mountains, as well as from the eastern edge of Myrkvidr in the west, to as far east as the land of Ariemel. The Great Army of the Gargoyles under King Dragos the Green, as well as a force of Ogre Mercenaries under command of General Gorkan-Mar, allied with the Slaughter-Wolves had arrived from the Crags of Mount Morag in Dakkia. Goblins had arrived as well from the high ranges of the Lofty Mountains, sent by the Goblin Fuhrer King Zuhki. Hister and his apprentice, Throostra the Gnome of Nograd, watched it all from the divination bowl in Kul-Oba with sadistic glee.

  “My young apprentice, Idanthrsus and his allies are gathering. Soon the Sons of Gomer will be dead and the rebellion crushed.”

  At that moment, a raven, the Huggin Argob, flew in and landed on his shoulder and squawked. Hister looked into its eyes and saw what the bird had seen. The great migration of the Dwarves under King Togrobeg and Master Azgar had carried them as far north as the River Tanais, where it curves west towards the Dark Sea. He saw an exceeding great host, many riding ponies and wearing armour and furs. Great were the numbers of wagons. They were even pulling several batteries of siege engines, catapults and trebuchets! Six hundred thousand Dwarves, men women and children combined, were on their great, legendary migration across Midgard to Ariemel, a mountain land of which to give their name and to call home. Idanthrsus’ forces were too far away to stop King Togrobeg Andarvarson, ruler of the Yuralian Dwarves, should he choose to join the rebellion.

  “How has it come to this, Throostra? That Idanthrsus is an incompetent dumpkof! The Dwarves will join the rebellion now!”

  Hister looked again into the eyes of the Raven Argob and saw a great battle. A Cimmerian force had marched forth and attacked the Dwarves! The battle raged on the Steppes! The Goblin Storm Troopers broke through and massacred 5000 Dwarven women and children before being driven back in fierce hand-to-hand combat led by the Great Dwarf Lord, General Kroki. He smote Goblin Storm Trooper after Goblin Storm Trooper! His fighters broke through the Goblin ranks and forced those vile creatures into a disordered rout! So enraged were the Dwarves over the senseless brutality, that their hearts and souls were poured into revenge for their fallen women and impaled babies! When the Goblins broke into retreat, King Togrobeg, Azgar, Kroki, Alesander and Durin and all their forces rallied and drove the Cimmerian Cavalry away in a rout, a humiliation and a massacre!

  When the battle was won, there should have been celebration
, but alas there were none as they buried their innocents. King Togrobeg was mad with grief, for that day he buried his beloved wife Kasandra and their baby boy, Crown Prince Donin Togrobegson. He lifted up his axe in the air and cried out at the top of his voice, “Arrrrrrrrrrr!” as tears filled his eyes. He looked at the sky and saw Hister’s Huggin Argob fly by. Looking at it, he cried, “We were not invaders but travellers seeking fortune in new land where the ice is now in memory! Where we could build a shining Kingdom and mine in the earth for treasure! We will fight you now, thou, hell-monger Idanthrsus! Now come all ye, my Dwarves! Hear me now, oh Dwarf Lords! From where the sun now stands, we shall fight on forever! We march to Thorstadt and Cimmerian arrows be damned!”

  His Mother and little sister stood over the grave and watched the burial of Kasandra and baby Donin. The mother had a look of pain but was silent and stoic, while the young Dwarf Princess, Eileza Andavarsdottir, cried bitterly on her knees beside the grave. She looked to her mother, the Dowager Queen Rutia, for an embrace, but found none.

  King Togrobeg Andarvarson, who until that moment had no official force of bodyguards, said, “Lord Azgar, fetch Durin, Dvalin, Austri and Vestri. I will now form a force of Thanes to guard the persons of our royal house from assassins. That Raven was Argob, the eye of Hister the Black, and I know this was his doing!” He reached down and gave his little sister a gentle touch on her shoulder and said, “Arise, baby sister.” He scowled at the Dowager Queen and said, “Mother, have you no feeling, even today?”