The hammer of truth

A story inspired on Changeling: the Dreaming, the RPG by Jorge Arredondo

Long ago, in the lands of everlasting snow, back in the old world, there was a kingdom of giant trolls who served the mighty Thor and other powerful beings, called 'gods' for some people.

Fenrir, the most monstrous being which had ever walked over the world, born only to destroy and kill Odin and bring disaster over all that kingdom, was captured and imprisoned by Tyr, who fought it with bravery and lost one arm to its savage jaws, and his cohort of troll thanes and warriors. How did Tyr and his allies manage to chain the wolf monster? The nockers of that kingdom had forged the strongest chain ever forged. Strongest than the strongest mountain, and thin and light as the thinnest hair. In fact, without their help, the wolf would have brought havoc to all the kingdom, but nevertheless, they kept being looked down as mere lowly workers.

Aefnir, the master craftsman of all the nockers, was angry at the trolls and their lords' disdain of their contribution to the fight. "Without our work and pain, the wolf would have ran rampant all over the kingdom, and would have eaten the sun itself! But here we are, imprisoned over miles of rock, working and forging weapons and armors for the so called nobler beings who think we're despicable. I've had more than enough!"

Angry as he was, he left their deepest mines and headed to the palace of Odin, were he managed to infiltrate thanks to his skill slithering on small spaces, for the troll guardian would have never left him get into the palace.

But he did, his willpower was as hard as the alloys they forged on the depths of the earth, which they cleaned with their own tears. He ran to the center of the great halls were the mighty gods and their troll warriors were feasting after the victory.

"I demand justice!" he yelled, at the startled and quickly becoming angry look of most of the presents. "My kind have worked for centuries treasures of gold and steel, which lead you to heroic deeds, and at the same time you bury our kind deeper and deeper as if we didn't exist! I say, your exploits would be nothing without our work, for you couldn't pierce the dragon's skin without our unbreakable blades, and you couldn't withstand the bite of the serpent of the world, if you didn't wear our shields of pure stone!"

Many trolls have already left their chairs, and were approaching to Aefnir with masks of wrath on their faces, but Aefnir didn't move, he was too angry to give up.

"Stop" Odin said, and the troll chieftains stopped, wondering what the one-eyed god would want of the small pest of a nocker.

"It is true that your work has helped us to achieve many brave goals and win many honorable battles, but, do you think the weapon without the arm behind it, would do any of its marvels?"

Aefnir shook his head "Absolutely no. The most powerful blade is nothing if nobody skilled is wielding it. But to defeat the most powerful foes you need the most powerful weapons, or failure will be your destiny in less than a heartbeat".

"Of course... now, let's see if you tongue and your heart say the same things. Let's all go out, and let the hammer be the judge".

Surprised, and at first scared of his own actions, Aefnir had no choice but to follow the gods and their court out to the frozen gardens of Odin's palace. In the center of the garden, in a small stone pedestal, lay a steel hammer, looking too big for someone to wield it one handed. A hammer whose fame could be heard even on the air.

"Yes, this is Mjölnir, the hammer of thunderbolts, the weapon of my own son, Thor. Only the one who is worthy of it may wield it, and on its hand, Mjölnir will share all of its powers, amongst them the power of levelling whole mountains! Do you dare to wield it, armorer?" he asked to Aefnir.

"I'm small and weak for a weapon, my lord" he said humbly, for it was true. "I'm used to work hours after hours, forging blades and armor, but not to use them".

"Perhaps you've already failed..." replied Odin "Who else will dare to wield it? No my son, someone else..."

One of the troll chieftains raised a tree-sized arm, and Odin nodded. The troll raised the hammer with one arm, though its weight was even too heavy for him. He aimed to the mountains miles away, and threw it.

The hammer flew with speed, and a thunder followed its flight. It hit the mountain with a mighty blow, which caused a huge scar cover most of it, then it flew back to its hand. The chieftain couldn't wield it anymore, all his strength burnt on the first strike, so he left it again over the pedestal. He looked at Aefnir and snorted "Do your best, mouse".

Aefnir was quite scared at the display of power, but he quickly got angry at the words of the chieftain. He'd try with all his strength, or die trying. He'd never give up.

He took the hammer by the handle and tried to move it. It didn't even move. Some trolls smirked. He tried again with all his might, but it didn't move either this time. Some laughs could be heard.

Clenching his teeth, he grabbed it with both hands and pulled with all his strength, which wasn't much, but the hammer didn't move. "I have to do it! I must!" he thought "but it is too heavy for me! I can't barely move it!".

Large drops of sweat were falling over his forehead, he couldn't by now hear the laughs of the court, but he was decided to grab it. Then, a thought flashed on his mind. "It is too heavy to lift it this way, but if it oiled pedestal with grease and make the hammer spin, it might fall on my arms... at least I could move this damned hammer once!"

Thought and done, he grabbed a small bag with grease from his belt and covered the pedestal with it, all the while watched with amazement by Odin's court. Odin's smiled, though no one saw his smile.

As he had thought, the hammer now moved swiftly over the pedestal. He ran around the pedestal making the hammer spin till it fell to his arms.

"Oooooohhhhhh!" the whole court yelled.

"Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea" Aefnir thought when the hammer fell over him. He could barely stand with the weight of it on his arms. Though it should weigh only 30-40 pounds if it had been a normal hammer, its magic made it heavier.

Aefnir could hear his heart beating inside his chest, as if it were going to explode. More sweat covered his forehead, this time not even his thick eyebrows kept it from falling over his eyes. He blinked, and when he could see again he saw the inscription on the head of the hammer:

"You who feel
you're worthy of me
you shall lead me
with the strength of you will"

Aefnir clenched his teeth, the words resounding on his mind. He knew he had but a few seconds before he would fall and perhaps never get up again. He raised his eyes and saw the biggest mountain around, just where his kind lived in the deepest mines. He managed to grab the hammer with both hands and trying to aim he threw it.

It fell to the ground as soon as it left his arms. Aefnir looked at it with his eyes burning as open as the forges he worked in, and before it touched the ground he yelled:

"GOCRUSHTHATMOUNTAINYOUPIECEOFS**TYOURUSTEDTOOL OFACLUMSYCARPENTERANDHISF***INGMOTHER!!!!!!"

All the ice in the garden melt under the swearing.

But the hammer didn't touch the ground. It stopped in mid air, then flew faster than a lightning and stroke the mountain with the strongest blow it had ever given. The ground shook with the earthquake the blow had caused, and a huge cloud of dust covered the kingdom for minutes, obscuring the sun itself. As soon as the cloud fade away, Aefnir and the whole court couldn't believe what they were seeing. The whole mountain had been leveled, and where it was there was but a crater filled with holes, the mines of the other nockers who couldn't either believe the mountain had been blown apart.

The hammer returned to Aefnir's hands, though he couldn't place it back over the pedestal. He didn't feel like he could move it anymore.

Odin was the first who talked "I see you speak truth, artisan. Your willpower and rage have saved you, though be careful lest your wrath burn your very soul apart, instead of guiding you to greater heights of bravery and fine craftsmanship. Your inner strength is strong, as we've all seen. As you all have shown us all those years, Now go, and tell your kind. You may live now where you wish."

He left, and for once in long centuries, the nockers of the kingdom of everlasting snow lived much closer to the open sky. Much closer, though still underground, for they actually liked their mines too much. They're still working on the finest craftsmanship, for that is their strength".

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