Furry Art Pile

Home….

They say home is where a thousand journeys begin. If that is the case then my home is Asgard, realm of the Norse Gods. I’m getting ahead of myself again, My name is Blade. Blade Shepherd. My story begins long before I was born, back to the days of my father. My father is Tyr, God of War and Judgment. He is one of the Elder Sky Gods. He has fathered many in his time and I was the only exception. I was a mistake. My father fell in love with a Valkyrie, a bringer of dead warriors. Her name was Delily. The heat and compassion the two felt for each other was so immense that it melted the snow in the mortal realm. As a result of their love, I was “born”. Confusing? The children of gods aren’t born in the normal sense. We are born with the union of at least one god and the elements. The sons of Odin, for example, were born of earth, black wind, rain and his sacred testament (blood). Their powers emerged from whatever element was the greater influence inside them. My birth was similar. I was born by love of my parents combined with fire, ice and lightning. Though their love was great, my father never cared for me. I think the reason was because I took more of my physical shape from my mother’s German Shepherd body. The only physical traits I carried from him were my wings. Still, I was trained for the final battle, Ragnarok. All was well, until my 1000th year of life. I was still a child compared to the others, so I often spent most of my days in the Great Hall of the Slain, Valhalla. One day, I happened upon a bench at the table and noticed it was loose. I figured since I was there that I would repair it. Having no tools on my being , I sought for something I could use to fix the bench. All I could find was Thor’s great hammer, Mjolnir. I knew too well the power of this weapon, for it was he who taught me to fight. I took the hammer and ,with a gentle tap, attempted to fix the bench. BIG MISTAKE! The power was too much and the bench splintered! Shards of wood flew across the Hall. Odin, whose eye sees all, saw this event and punished me, not for destroying the bench, but for using a weapon that wasn’t mine. My punishment: I was banished to the mortal realm, never to set foot on Asgard ever again.

So my new life began, amongst the mortals. My first concern was fashioning a weapon for myself., but mortal technology hadn’t risen to the point of forged weapons. They were still fighting with sticks and stones. Disgusted, I moved onward to what is now Central Asia. There I practiced the ways of magic, calling forth the elements of my being. There I stayed until 700 BC when I was visited by Minun, one of Odin’s ravens. It was through this bird that I learned of a great empire in the west, the Assyrians. I traveled to their kingdom and ,using the art of transformation, disguised myself as one of their own kind. I spent many years amongst them, learning all I could of their ways. It was in Assyria that my passion for battle was reignited, and I was given my first weapon, a sickle sword made of iron. I carried with pride to many battles and sieges. However, my life with the Assyrians was not permanent. The kingdom fell to the Babylonians and the Medes in 612 BC. I fought bravely but could not defend my home. In shame I left and search for a new home.

I search for many decades, finding refuge in an unlikely area, Sparta. These guys knew how to fight! Their kingdom was vast and its warriors feared. None stood against them, until the rise of Xerxes, lord of Persia. The Spartan king of the time, Leonidas, took three hundred soldier to combat the larger Persian army. I was not one of those men, having no child to carry my name. Enraged by this I left Sparta to find another home. During a short rest in Athens, I heard what happened to Leonidas, from a male named Nike. He and his men fell before Xerxes army and they were moving towards Athens. This Xerxes sickened me and I agreed to help Sparta once again, but this time would be the last. It was 479 BC when our army, led by Pausanias, was able to defeat the Persians and their ambition for world conquest. I said my farewells to my former brothers and moved on, eventually settling in Macedonia in 350 BC.

However, before I settled in Macedonia, I came across a strange being. He called himself Angelus and claimed to be the destructive paw of one called Satan. I knew nothing of this Satan and could care less about this being, but something old me that this wouldn’t be the last time I would see him.

In Macedonia, I found a new life in a peaceful time. I became a smith, forging weapons for their army. In 336 BC, the most influential male I have ever known became king. His name was Iskander, better known in the West as Alexander the Great. He was very young, only twenty or so, and not very tall. I had seen him a few times in my shop in his youth gazing upon my wares. “Durin (as I called myself at the time), one day, I will become king and lead a vast army.” I smiled at these words. “Well, your highness. If you ever manage that, I will gladly serve you until my last breathe.” Little did I know how those word were going to bite me in the tail. In 335, he visited me and told me what had happened upon his trip to what is now Turkey. Apparently there was a lucky ox yoke in Phrygia owned by one of the former kings of that land called Gordius. Legends say that whoever could undo the knot would reign over Asia. Having no visible ends, Alex drew his sword and sliced it in half. That night, a large thunderstorm rolled in. The seers took this to mean their god, Zeus, was pleased and would grant him many victories. There may have been some truth to what those old fools were saying. Alexander led a great conquest into Persia. The men thought it was because of the Grecian Gods that we were victorious, but I believe it was because of an item in Alexander’s possession, a golden item which he wore about his neck. Whatever the reason, our victories were too end sooner than we expected. After an eight year campaign, we turned back home. Upon reaching Babylon, Alexander grew ill and died. Many mourned the loss of the king and I knew my time in Macedonia was at an end. So once again, I left, looking for my next purpose.

But that my friends, is another tale……..