Interlude - The Sacred Scrolls Part 1
The Dirge of Baldur
The end of Kobol's golden years began with murder most foul. A murder committed by mortal hands against one of the gods. In those days the Lords of Kobol were known by other names. When the City of the Gods glowed with the heavenly aurora it was ruled by three kings who ruled four tribes. There was the grand and glorious Marble Tribe; ruled by mighty Zeus, who was the most powerful of the Lords and the one who controlled the lightning and the progenitor of most of the Lords. There was the strange Oak Tribe ruled by enigmatic Odin, who was the wisest of the lords and was both famous and infamous for his eldritch wisdom born of the sacrifice he made of himself onto himself. Last was the beautiful Golden Tribe ruled by kind Ra, who was the greatest friend to man and whose tribe had build the City of Gods. The fourth was the Stone Tribe: the tribe of men who had no chief by law of ancient covenant sworn after the Age of Chaos ended.
The tribe of men bent the knee to the Lords and served them faithfully, and in return the Lords shared their wisdom and wealth with their followers. Of the tenants of that covenant the most sacred one was the agreement that man would never raise their hand against the Lords, and so Kobol thrived and reached dizzying heights. That ended with jealousy, spite, and fire.
Among the Oak Tribe there were three who would become major players in this tragedy. First was Baldr. Baldr was Odin's son, born by his wife Frigg, and a Prince of the Oak. He was a god of Light and purity who brought joy to wherever he went. The ground he stepped on would become lush and beautiful with life even in the dead of winter. Poison and sickness were burned away by his touch. Everyone and everything loved him, even by the other godly tribes. Everyone except two. One of whom was Loki.
Loki was a Lord not born of the Oak, nor of Gold or Marble, but he was Odin's blood brother and thus was tolerated. He was as skilled in magic as Odin, but where Odin's power was subtle and powerful, Loki's was merely subtle. He delighted in playing tricks and pranks. His best works were the ones that left his victims pointing fingers at each other with them none the wiser as he cackled in terrible delight. However he was still suspected nonetheless. It was a common saying on Kobol that "when in doubt, blame Loki." Thus wherever he went he was held in suspicion and sometimes disdain for past actions. Only by his status as Odin's Blood Brother was he allowed into the courts of the Lords and tolerated.
Loki had pranked all of the peoples and Lords of Kobol except one, and that was Baldr. Baldr's mother, Frigg, had seen a vision of his death upon his birth and had secures an oath from seemingly all things not to harm him. By this oath Loki was unable to play his tricks on Baldr, and this frustrated him. Baldr's popularity and good will from all the world curdled like sour milk in Loki's stomach. As the years went on his became more and more frustrated with Baldr. Frustration gave way to disdain, then from disdain came hatred, and from hatred would the symphonies of doom be written.
There was one other who hated Baldr. The name of this god has been lost to history but his deeds have been felt even now. He has many aliases. The Fallen One. The Dark Prince. The Would-Have-Been King. The Mercurial Chieftain. He was a survivor of the war between the many gods during the Chaos Age whose kin had been slain by the combined warriors of Odin and Zeus. He sought to avenge his people by killing the Tribes of Marble and Oak, and to ascend to become High Lord of Kobol. His body had been ravaged by Odin's rune blades and Zeus's lightning, but his mind was ever keen and reached far. His word-thoughts reached many minds but only a fraction were receptive to his dark intent. One of which was Loki's. Loki was clever but lacked wisdom's temperament. Many of his greatest tricks had been aided unknowingly by the Fallen One. The more ambitious the more he aided. Thus when Loki had been spurned and driven from a feast by Baldr's nature his last great trick was planned.
The Mistletoe Arrow & The Death of Freya
It was known by all that Baldr's mother Frigg had secured a promise from everything in existence to not harm Baldr. Even mighty and arrogant Ares sheathed his sword in sight of the Oaken Prince, for who could not help but love him? Only Loki knew what would harm him. He found a branch of mistletoe and set about his terrible work. He fooled a Svartalf to turn the mistletoe into an arrow and took it back to the City of the Gods on Baldr's birthday. The great metropolis was wreathed in flowers and bright banners of all Tribes as the three Kings and their kinsmen came together to celebrate their favorite son. As part of the festivities the gods would try to would Baldr. Razor sharp blades turned aside without even grazing his flesh. Boulders dropped and thrown would miss. Even flying fists and kicking feet refused to make contact with his holy body. It was great fun to watch, but there existed one of the crowd who could not watch was not merry.
There was a young man whose eyesight had left him and full into his melancholy. Without his eyes he could not work to gain money to entice a woman to be his wife. Many mocked him and played cruel tricks on him. He was sitting at a corner covered in mud and rotten fruit when Loki found him. Loki was disguised as a priestess of Hera and spoke in their harsh, clipped voice when he spoke to the blind man.
"Young man," Loki in disguise said, "why do you cry and why do you smell of garbage?"
"I am blind, Blessed Mother!" he lamented. "I am wretched and debased without my eyes! Even as the city celebrates I cannot even see the god they praise! I wish that the Fates would end my poor life now and spare me this waking nightmare!"
"Why do you not seek out Baldr? It is said his touch can cure all illnesses and heal all wounds."
"Alas if it were that simple, Blessed Mother! I have been touched by Baldr and my eyes are still blind! If even his powerful magic cannot fix me than what can I do?"
Loki in the guise of a Heran Priestess nodded. "Do you want to see? Truely?"
The blind mind nodded. "Truly, Blessed Mother! I must see if I am to live!"
"Then I have a wager for you. I will perch you on a balcony and give you a bow and arrow. Shoot Baldr and strike true, and I shall give you my eyes. Fail, and you shall be put to work in the temple until the day you die."
The blind man readily agreed. To him there was no down side. He either got his eyes or he got shelter, food, and a purpose. So Loki took the blind man on to a balcony that looked over the courtyard where Baldr stood and deflected each blow that came his way. Loki put the bow and the mistletoe arrow into his hands and helped him draw, aim, and whispered into his ear, "Release."
The mistletoe arrow shot out and struck true. The sharpened head pierced Baldr's heart and the young god fell, struck down by the branch that Frigg had assumed so unimportant and inconsequential.
"Did I get him?" the blind man asked excitedly. The Blessed Mother did not answer him, leaving a fading echo of cruel laughter as Loki fled the scene of the crime.
He was once again in Loki form when the blind man was brought before a tribune of the three Kings and their serfs. Loki himself interrogated the man and the truth was soon laid bare.
"A Blessed Mother of Hera made a wager with me!" the poor man cried. "She told me that if I was able to strike Baldr with an arrow she would give me her eyes, but she left me there after I released my arrow! I plead mercy from the Lords, great Kings. I knew not what I did!"
The blind man would eventually be hung by the neck and left to dangle from his noose at one of the gates to the City of the Gods, but that was not the end of it. Hera was renown for her petty and spiteful nature. She directed it against the bastards and concubines of her husband Zeus but Baldr had healed or freed many of them from Hera's scheming. It was not too unplausible for Hera to seek suck wretched and petty vengeance. Only Tyr and Maat, the Oaken and Gold Lords of Truth and Law, suspected that more was at work here than simple pettiness. Even Thor, the Oaken Thunderer and Zeus's rival, suspected that Loki played some part in this tragedy. Yet these suspicions did not stop the emotions from running hot and rash action to happen.
The Oak Tribe demanded a wergild of the Marble Tribe for this travesty. Lord Zeus was willing to offer mountains of treasure and armories of fantastic and powerful weapons from his own personal stores to sooth the Oaken rage, but Odin would not accept. He demanded the death of one of Zeus's children so that the scales could be balanced. Zeus loved all his children dearly, even the mortal bastards born of human women, and refused. Infuriated by this, Odin and his retinue left the Tribunal Hall and vowed that the scales would be balanced one way or another.
Twas not long later when a war party of Oak Lords stole into the Marble Throne of Olympus and stole Hera from Zeus's bed in the dead of night. Odin declared that she would remain hostage in Asgard, the Oak Lords' seat of power, until Zeus slew one of his spawn. Infuriated by this action, Zeus bid Hermes to kidnap one of the Oak women to replace his wife until she was returned.
Four nights and five days later Hermes and an army of Olympian Heroes returned to Olympus with the Oak Lord known as Freya in chains. Freya was a warrior goddess of the Oak and considered to be Odin's counterpart in all ways except in magic. It was even rumored that she was one of his secret lovers, though both denied it. Zeus and Freya were wed that day and he tried to lay with her that night to consummate their union. Freya, brave and fearless, knew of the Marble Lord's appetites and refused. She broke free of her bonds and escaped Zeus's bed chambers, wielding his stolen thunder bolts as weapons. She slew gods and demi-god retainers in the hundreds before Ares managed to slay her with one stroke of his fiery sword that separated her head from her body. Perhaps this terrible tragedy might have ended there, but in her rage Freya had struck down many children of Zeus. Wise Apollo and Artemis the Huntress were counted among them. Aphrodite and Dionysus would no longer grace Olympus with her beauty or his merriment. Even mighty Heracles was cut down by the war goddess.
Infuriated and crippled in equal parts rage and sadness, Zeus had her head sent to Odin with an ultimatum stuffed into her mouth: Return Hera or suffer war against Olympus. Hera's head was Odin's answer, hey eyes plucked out and tongue ripped from her mouth by his ravens.
Thus did the first war in seven ages begin. The armies of Asgard and Olympus marshalled and prepared for war. The Gold Tribe screamed and pleaded for reason and thought to prevail. Lord Tyr risked death and worst to stop his king. Athena begged her father to stop now before this got out of hand. Neither listened to their respective counsel. Storm clouds, all thick and grey with rain, gathered over all of Kobol as the world itself wept at Baldr's death and at the impending slaughter. Somewhere in that vast place, Loki ceased his laughing as it dawned on him that his prank had gone far, far further and away than he intended it, and the Mercurial King chuckled and laughed as his two enemies prepared to kill one another for him.
AN: That's the last of these interludes for now. We return to our regular programming for now.
