The runes have been cast
My fate binds me to these cities of bones. Age old secrets whispering along the halls and lingering in the doorways. Some lands leave a lasting impression in your heart, and I am inspired by this untamed wilderness of Njordr, which refuses to yield, which defies the easy footfall of man.
I’ve dreamt of exploring this rugged beauty. It is my fate, tied to grave dust, to muck and mire, for treasures greater than the wealth of an empire, to seek the edge of our beginnings. It feels as though I’m caught between some walking dream of a bloody past and an inevitable future.
The pieces tumbled across the ground
Oh Runespeaker, Runecaster, what is my fate?
The parts of ourselves that came from our parents manifest, as we grow older, and we become a soft echo of who they were. I often wonder if this path set before me was a road other Runespeakers built for us to follow. The small notes and ciphers, the runes we cast, all small hints and memories, reminders of what we were and what we can become again.
Den som venter på høstens vakreste eventyr, venter ikke forgjeves.
My mother spoke these words to me, “He who waits for autumn’s most beautiful adventure, does not wait in vain”. Words that as a child, inspired a deep love for the things around me, the stories and wisdom, and set my blood to excitement. As I have waited for this my entire life, to explore those hidden hollows and paths secreted away for so long.