1; It was a stormy eve, upon the field of battle lay the fallen.  Three armies made war; three kings lay dead on the battlefield.
Over custom and thew fought the three Lords.  Each king's tribe believed their way was the only right manner to honor the gods who sit in the high halls of Asgard.
During their quarrels the enemy, The bringer of entropy crept into their ranks ensuring that they would make war with their kin.
The kings came to battle carrying with them their swords: Fordon "The Destroyer", Andsaka "The Adversary", and Gebeorgan "The Defender".

2: The shadow crept in to their camps.  The war horde's bows did break, their swords became dull and shields rotted away.
On the field clashed the kings each his sword did shatter.  Soon the shadow over ran his Fyrd taking with it the noblest and the most lowly sending them on to the halls of the gods.
Asunder were the three armies laid waste for the ravens to feed upon.
The gods did weep for the song, which was carried in the hearts of the kings, had fallen quiet.  The shadow laid itself upon the cold stormy lands covering the bodies of the kings and their armies in frost and desolation.

3: A whisper sounded within the hallowed ash.  Spring dawned over the blue lighted north.  The land thawed, leaving laid open the old kings bones.  The shards of their swords still at their sides.
With a wisp of wind entered a green cloaked shape.  It looked upon the battlefield of the three king's last war.  Its eyes made of it what must have befallen them and their armies.
 Taking up the shards of Fordon, Andsaka, and Gebeorgan went away the green cloaked shape to a solidarity mountain known as Klinga.
Hammers rang, runes were whispered, blood was taken.  From twisted broken metal three blades became one.  Three kindred's blood with a volcano's fury cooled to a glistening bort.

4: The mountain's fire did bring the eyes of the tribes to learn what wizardry was at work under that old pile of rock.
One known as Arn called "The Eagle" by his tribe dared to scale the icy peaks of the mountain.  "I shall learn what wizard uses the mountain's flame!" he boasted making his way for the summit.
Arn climbed the slope.  Mount Blade did fight him.  She threw wisps of snow and ices his way.  Mount Klinga's children rolled down to pummel him for their mother's sake.  The Eagle used hammer and shield to shatter the littlings to dust.
Reaching an old gnarled pine Arn took rest.  His journey to the summit, up the long road of Mount Blade was nearly at the end for he could see the fires from her core shining from the cave he sought.

5: Fire blazed from the maw.  Arn stepped in.  He beheld the green cloaked shape standing at an anvil.  Its back turned toward him.  "Who are you?  What wizardry do you work here in Mount Blade?"
"Who are you?" replied the figure turning to meet Arn's gaze.  "What do you want?" and the green cloaked one laughed.  "Most of all.  Where are you going?"
Arn was unsure what to make of this.  He stepped closer to the anvil and there he saw the most beautiful thing.  A sword of unusual make rested on the black forging block.  It bore a recurved point, short quillions, and at its hammer shaped crossguard's center rested a red jewel cut like the eightfold Sülar-Hringar.  Its pommel made in the form of a golden acorn.  "What is it?"
"Saxkra --- War-Sword.  To be wielded with two hands." told the cloaked figure pushing back its hood.  A fierce, shimmering flaxen haired maiden, as fair as an Elf had forged the blade.  "I am Serilda.  Answer my riddle and earn the right to wield the sword."

6: "These are the shards of Fordon. Place them in the right order and you might yet grasp all you will need to know." said Serilda opening a pouch on her belt placing three irregular shards before Arn.  "They could not be worked into the blade.  You see they are leavings, though some of Fordon lies within saxkra.  The first is hight: Geihva 'Who are you?' the second hight: Geihvat 'What do you want?' the third is hight: Geihvar 'Where are you going'."
"What is your riddle?" asked Arn craving to wield the blade.
"From the tallest peaks men seek to learn what they think they do not know, It lays at their heart and cries in their blood.  The gods rule over it, Wotan gave an eye to understand it.  We each try to bend it to our will.  Sometimes the Wise-Ones are lead astray by it; well the Middle-Wise grasp it and are put on the long road.  It has no frontiers but the ones man places for himself.  Of what do I speak?" asked Serilda.  "Come whisper your answer in my ear.  It is not a thing to be given up easily to those who do not know."
Arn pondered Serilda's riddle.  He placed the shards of Fordon in many configurations.  Sometimes end to end.  Other times one a top the other.  He even tried moving them apart to see if the answer was there.  Arn however could not make out how the shards went together and at the last tossed them aside.  He did however have an answer to Serilda's riddle.

7: Arn leaned over to Serilda's pointed ear.  He whispered the answer.
"Indeed!" exclaimed the shining maiden wise. "You have broken the riddle and earned the War-Sword to wield as your own."
She girded the blade upon the warrior.  "Here now you are the wielder of the saxkra and a keeper of the shards of Fordon.  Go back to the others and make them your tribe."
"The tip is thy will to power." Told Serilda of the saxkra.  "The shadow shall never again use the blade as its sign, for Dönar's hammer shall keep thy hands safe.  Saxnöt's tree has been engraved on the hammer-guard so true law and justice shall always be meted out. The acorn is a sign of hope that the tree will always spring forth. Cut as the eightfold Sülar-Hringar  the blutstein shows our kindred’s blood going onward into what is to become. It sits at the sword’s fulcrum, as we are the fulcrum of our descendants those yet to come."

8: Arn marched down Mount Blade.  He returned to his village and tribe.
Whisperings of the three old kings' war and the shadow still lay upon the land. Calling those to him whom he thought could understand the riddle of Serilda and the right order of the Shards of Fordon Arn gathered a following.
Some among his tribe called Arn a rebel; others called him a true seeker of the wisdom of the gods.  Still others did not know what to make of the man who had brought a strange sword down from the mountain.
Many tried the shards, many left in frustration. Some were overly wise and saw things in them that were not there.  Serilda's riddle confounded them. Often they would stumble on the answer but turn away from it, for such seemed too easy an answer to so long a verse.

9: It is spoken of Arn Sakhra-Valdar that he raised a tribe and went from the north.  A red star beckoned him on to new lands and new ordeals.
The tribe was known as the Saxkrasi "The people of the two handed War-Sword".
In most high esteem was held the riddle and the sword.  It had forged for them a new tribe from the frosted bones of the old.  What was three, now was one, but the soul of the three still shined in the one.
Three among the tribe kept the answer to Serilda's riddle and acted as keepers of the Shards of Fordon: The Sacral King, The Sword-Smith, and the master of the tribes Hof all understood what Serilda meant in her riddle and in her shards.