On a cold winter night, snow blew through the valley and the only place that offered refuge within many miles was the Wild Boar Tavern. It was relatively small compared to most of the inns that had been built to house some of the mightiest men alive but it was warm and had many casks of mead to offer. Snow whirled and twirled and rattled the windows but no one inside was any the wiser as they nearly inhaled plates stacked up with mutton and enjoys washing it down with buckets of ale. They roared with laughter as one of their drunken brothers burped in front of a lit torch and fire rushed out, scaring the poor Nord half to death. He fell backwards of his wooden chair and spilled his drink all over his already stained sheepskin vest. In the middle of the room one of the men, not so drunk as the others, pulled out a lute and began to tune it. The bar quieted as they heard the strings pluck, and when the bard finished tuning he turned to the crowd and spoke these words: "Now you all know of the great king Wiglaf who ruled our land for nearly a century, outliving all other kings. But do any of you know how he became king? Or how he lived so long? I am here to tell you my friends. It is a tale you should tell your children by the firelight. A tale you should sing before battle. A tale that should be remembered for all of time." The bard started strumming and the tavern became silent as they listened to his words.

"In the late afternoon of an early autumn day a rider was bound for Sweden.
He brought news that an army was fast on approach full of Giants that could not be beaten.
'The shafts of all arrows would break,' said the messenger in the midst of gasping for air.
'The swords would strike home but would never break bone, the men could hardly fight fair.'

Beowulf the Great had been killed by a dragon in the summer just before last.
With no king to rule them, this army of monsters would surely destroy the Geats fast.
The Vikings were shouting and romping around, ready to give up their land.
They surrender immediately with nary a fight from the mountains and down to the sand.

Then Wiglaf the Brave stood up from the crowd and called out to each Viking by name.
'My brothers! My friends! My family and kin! We cannot put our ancestors to shame!
We must fight for our lands and retake the world and destroy this army of beasts!
I will act as king in these troubling times and when the war is won we shall feast!'

Most of the warriors stood up and cheered and were ready to offer Wiglaf their swords.
But one stood apart from the rest of the men and he challenged Wiglaf with a roar.
'Why should you be king and not me?' Said the man, whose name was Ragnar the Red.
'You fled from the dragon!' Yelled Wiglaf in anger, 'With you, our King might not be dead!'

Then Ragnar the Red started boasting of a hunt he had been on eight winters ago.
When the braggart was twelve he went out in the woods and had killed a boar in the snow.
It had been an impressive kill they had thought, but enough was enough wiglaf said.
If Ragnar the Red wasn't careful with words he would find himself losing his head.

But the angered troll was too thick and too dull and would not let the matter go.
So Brave Wiglaf found himself and the man in the courtyard to fight in the snow.
Ragnar was huge and wore nothing but skin, but Wiglaf was resourceful and brave.
Even as Ragnar swung a huge ax, the proud Wiglaf could never be fazed.

Wiglaf turned and dodged the blow and ducked and rolled under him.
He turned his sword upward and scraped his foe's knees to the many cheers of his kin.
Then Ragnar did bellow and fall down in the snow and was kneeling down at the might.
'Prepare yourselves brothers!' Fair Wiglaf did say, 'We start riding at the break of night!'

In barely an hour the Vikings were ready on their long boats with sails flying high.
For they also knew that the army was ready with hearts as black as night sky.
The Scandinavians swore fealty to Wiglaf the Brave and set sail on that cold winter night.
Only two hundred men strong were the Geats on that day for no one would hear of their plight.

For two long days the Vikings did row to reach Denmark and the army of Jotunn.
Wiglaf would test the will of these Giants and see if they truly could not be broken.
The Frost Giant king stood up from the rest and issued a bellowing roar.
A battle cry like no other the warriors had heard, like a saber cat mixed with a boar.

Wiglaf and kin jumped out of the boat and drew their swords and axes and bows.
They were the purity of white winged gulls and the Giants were the black bearded crows.
The battle was fierce and the Geats were outnumbered but they did not care if they died.
For they would all see Valhalla if indeed they perished, every god was now on their side.

Wiglaf led all through the force of the Giants and made sure they would never back down.
The beats were surprised at the opposing men's courage and suddenly all turned around.
'They are retreating my friends!' Good Wiglaf did shout, 'I have never beheld such a sight!'
The warriors set up their tents and got fires going as they planned to camp there that night.

The long night was quiet and the Nords slept well, their bellies were quite full of mead.
The battle was won and Wiglaf was hero and they realized the Giants could bleed.
When the bloody sun rose from the Eastern hills and the Viking were bathed all in fire,
They saw the Jotunn from the Western slopes and the anticipation could not have been higher.

'Carry on men, we have beaten them once!' Brave Wiglaf shouted in time.
'We shall send these beasts back beyond our lands to icy Jotunheim!'
The Giants were frightened but also knew that this battle could not be one lost.
The warriors grabbed their gear and charged once again but the Giants were ready with frost.

They froze those in the lead and shattered the ice so the men could never exist anymore,
But the arrows of Vikings far in the back showed the Jotunn the true meaning of gore.
Then Wiglaf was there at the Frost Giant king with his sword pointed right at its throat.
He killed it there in the ice and would later wear its skin as the warmest of coats.

With their king dead on the ground the Frost Giants fled across the sea and into the tides,
The Vikings lifted their swords in triumph and returned back into their wooden rides,
They sailed across the frothy seas and back to their cozy halls of old.
Past every iceberg, fjord, and lakefront, through the icy land so cold.

The celebration lasted thirty nights and thirty days and carried well into the winter.
The calls and roars of talk and laughter could almost break wood to splinters.
And after all the talk and parties and when spring blossoms filled the air,
Wiglaf was named King of the Geats and married Yserika the Kind and Fair.

With his severed Frost Giant skin, he lived longer than any man.
He treated his people right and his enemies fairly when they blighted upon his land.
When his body fell in battle against the wolves of Timber Creek,
Wiglaf the Brave was sent to Valhalla, where he eats and drinks and sleeps."

The bard finished his tale and the men in the bar cheered loudly. Never before had they heard such a tale of heroics and battle chronicling one of their own kings. Applause rang in the hall and many a drink was bought for the beloved bard in hopes he would sing again the following night.