Rage and Sorrow

Balar knelt in a drunken haze as he watched the stranger burst from the trees to challenge Erik. He saw the would be assassin Theo stumble free from his bonds and... did not care. Her head was laid upon his knees, her face at peace and beautiful despite the slowly drying track of blood that escaped her lips.

He brushed a hand through her hair as he watched the elf wield Lunas staff. Luna was there then in the distance running into the clearing to reclaim her magic, that same damned shadow magic that had killed his wife. He had removed the dagger from Tiellas chest but moments before and he looked at it now with new horror. He studied the symbol of the moon on its hilt and could utter only a wordless snarl as he tucked the dagger into his belt.

Carefully then he drew Hofund and felt a sudden shock as the power of Heimdall answered his call. First created by the Dwarves of Nidavellir. It had been enchanted by Odin himself and lost in the vast war of the Ragnarok, but like many things it had now returned and for a short time its power was his own. It had new names now, Helsbane, Godbound, reforged by a child of Nidavellir and enchanted by a mother of darkness.

As Balar stood he seemed to grow in stature, and his eyes blazed with the dread power of the Aesir. I am with you brother. came the voice of Heimdall to his mind, "Do as thou must." Balar looked at the strange elf besieged by the shadow and then at Luna, the young elf girl who he had ever fought to protect. His white knuckle grip turned on the bindings of his sword as he allowed rage to fill him to the very brim.

"She is dead." he whispered, "She.... is.... deaaa...ie!" he rushed forward into the fray.