Birthed by Primal Magic#

Long ago, in a world of wonder and vast beauty, the yoten clashed with the heroic Vanir. Led by the fearsome Boða, the yoten swept across the land with fire and fury, pushing the Vanir back until only a single walled city remained. These defenders were clinging to the last remnants of their faith and their way of life.

At Boða’s side stood Mirgal, once a Vanir himself, now her lover and architect of ruin. His betrayal had crippled his people. In exchange for forbidden power, he had bartered his honor and become a destroyer of worlds.

At the final hour, Mirgal unleashed horrors of his own making; a wolf the size of a longship, a serpent whose venom dissolved stone, and other abominations. All these monstrosities tore through the city walls, slaughtering defenders and innocents alike.

The Sacrifice and the Exodus#

Amid the chaos, Aldyhn, leader of the Vanir and Mirgal’s niece, saw the end approaching. She broke through enemy lines and confronted her uncle in a desperate duel. Though his magic was potent, her blade was driven by love and fury, and she struck him down. But victory meant little. The yoten pressed in, countless and ravenous.

With Mirgal’s enchanted spear in one hand and her sword in the other, Aldyhn invoked ancient words and tore open a portal with raw conjuration. As the world trembled, she slit Mirgal’s throat and offered him to the forgotten gods that once watched over both Vanir and yoten. His death, and the wild primal magic within him, gave birth to a new world.

That world was Grimnir.

Scorched and seared, Aldyhn led her people, the Vanir and their mortal followers, the Vanir Clans, through the collapsing gate as the elements of the new world took form around them. She did not look back.

The Rise of the Stone Court#

Grimnir was unforgiving from the first breath. Glacial islands dominated the north, scorched lava fields the south. The Serpent Sea coiled between these extremes, broken by countless jagged isles and storm-lashed coasts.

The Vanir settled the central continent, raising their stronghold atop the ever-growing mountain range of Turnfjall. At its summit, they enshrined Mirgal’s Rainbow Spear. Every year, Aldyhn’s son, Thonir, climbed its treacherous heights to gather amber apples that granted the Vanir long life.

There, among the peaks, he met Hel. Each year they met in secret. Until one spring, she offered him different apples that were dark and bitter. Blinded by love, Thonir brought them to his people. As they ate, the Vanir aged and withered before his eyes. Only by invoking a powerful spell were they saved, but not as they were. Their flesh turned to stone, and they became living statues. They were preserved but also trapped.

Thonir despaired. Days passed. Then, Boða returned.

The Sundering of the Spear#

She appeared in the clearing, dragging Hel’s lifeless body behind her. With a snarl, she seized the Rainbow Spear, seeking to reopen the portal to the Lost Lands and summon her kin.

Thonir rose, consumed by grief and rage. He seized a magical scythe and struck the spear so hard it shattered into many pieces. Boða lunged, and the two fought; the last of the Vanir and the last of the yoten. This final battle ended with both mortally wounded.

As their blood soaked the snows of Grimnir, a great storm of primal magic swept the land. The Vanir, frozen in stone, were transformed into divine beings, becoming the Stone Court. Hel rose from death to become the Lady of the Dead, guardian of those slain by unjust means. And Thonir? The Clans say he feasts in the Halls of the Slain, training fallen warriors and waiting for the day he is needed once more.

The shards of the Rainbow Spear were hidden across Grimnir, guarded by the mortal Clans. The völv prophesied that reuniting the spear would signal the world’s end, but not all fear prophecy.

The Witchking and the First Gathering#

The Vanir Clans were not alone in Grimnir. The Baendur, forest-dwellers and mountain folk, built quiet settlements across the Serpent Sea’s scattered isles. For a time, they remained apart.

Then came the Witchking. He emerged from the ironwood forests clad in living bark armor, a towering figure of dread. He united the Baendur, seized pieces of the Rainbow Spear, and waged war upon the raiders. Only by setting aside old feuds and forming the First Gathering did the Clans defeat him and shatter his hold over the inner kingdoms.

Though beaten, the Witchking survived. Sustained by dark magic, he now acted through his Ironwood witches, ever hunting the spear’s fragments. One by one, they vanished from raider hands.