An act of Kord

We set camp for nightfall. Nothing exciting in these pasture lands, under the protection of the crown. It feels so different; so alien; so far away from the forest. I miss the forest. The old days were happy ones. Difficult yes. At times lonely. But happy ones nevertheless. I have been watching the stars for some time now when I hear a strange sound. Outworldy and yet so familiar. I can't pinpoint it, but it is something from my past. The stars seem to be moving; slowly at first then faster and faster. An image was forming. An image I knew well. I have seen it plenty of times in my sleep. I have seen his form next to me in battle when the rage takes over me. Kord was making an appearance; in full battle gear

In times of peril; in times of woe.
Another place; another world.
The sword that was; the blade to be.
The grandfather and the son form the key.

Through the gate; the shadow lies.
All wander; everyone dies.
But one must fall; in a place of gloom.
A legend dies to perish the doom.

His words continue to ring in my head. The dream fled quickly my mind, but the words have been imprinted with fire and brimstone. What could they mean. I riddle for sure. The sword? Old Grandfather? Perhaps. At times it does seem that the sword has a mind of its own. When the blood runs the hottest during a battle the sword seems to take over my actions. Protecting me. I felt it the strongest with the bestial orc lord in the inn.

What can it mean? What? My past has always been like a fog-filled night. So close and yet so far; always just a hair away from clarity. It seems that my dreams follow the same road.

But Kord; Kord has always been true to me. He was always there. A trusted friend. A worthy companion. A terrible enemy. Fearsome to friends and enemies alike. And I, just one of his children; a spike in his fire chariot's wheels.

The omen will reveal its true meaning in due time. Till then the Grandfather and I have work to do; with flesh and blood...