Our Sagas
This is the Saga of The People of Gjallarhorn Kindred
Antiseptic God
Of a god I've been told
Who is not of the old
He sits on his high seat alone
A son does have he
But it seems queer to me
No Goddess is gracing his home
Have faith they do cry
Don't dare question why
His words make no sense at all
All knowing is he
His power you'll see
You need only, become a thrall
They have killed in his name
But that's not the same
As murder to those whom he drives
For his word to be spread
Much blood has been shed
And my ancestors paid with their lives
Antiseptic is he
When hearing the plea
Of his sick and unaided sheep
He'll fix them up right
Though not in one night
Until they give all to his keep
Believe as you will
No more you will kill
Of my Folk I will fiercely defend
Guarded by Thor
We will take no more
We will fight to the most bitter end
Asatru's the name
Of the Folk you have slain
We now watch our backs as we sleep
It's a matter of fact
There is strength in the pack
And the wolves will devour the sheep
--Bodvarr Vilhjalmur--