In the times of tongue-singers long ago, when Shor's ghost, terrible and beautiful, led us eastward to reclaim his heart a great number of things happened. This is the story of such a thing.

When the children of Skyrim fell upon Resdayn they were puzzled, for the devils had yet to join their allies because of in-bickering. Some feared trickery, as the east-devils excelled at this, but the Devil of Dagoth told us of his peoples reluctance to join the deep-ones. Shor knew though that soon they would arrive despite themselves, and without words told Ysmir Ash-King to use a trick of his own. The Ash-King flew as a whirlwind back to the western lands he despised, back to the crags where the Orc-Chiefs dwelled. He used a voice no one knew to gain their allegiance, which shocked us and made us jealous, but his voice was so great and so full of love for Skyrim's sons and daughter's that very few could leave him.

Shor was not satisfied though, he called upon the Devil of Dagoth to muster his House, and bring blades of ebony for the gathering armies. Many of us were shocked to see the ash-black weapons but some of us began to weep at their beauty, reminded of old Atmora where Shor's blood and tears were forged into the strongest weapons in all the world. We all agreed they were the finest weapons we'd ever seen and agreed to use them, which greatly offended Olfor the Gray, who had made for us the finest steel in the Sky Forge. Downtrodden but inspired, he rode home to the shadow of Hrothgar, with many chunks of Shor's Blood he had found in Resdayn. Working for 8 nights and a day he crafted the most terrible and beautiful weapon anyone had seen in Skyrim for an age. He named it The Hammer of Shor's Blood, but it is more often called the Hammer of Olfor.

He returned east where the battle was raging, the armies crashing upon each other as waves, Ysmir and the Tongues stood together calling comets and singing storms. As Olfor approached the mighty King, he felt weak, for he had put his whole being into the creation of the great weapon. He offered it to the Ash-King, saying "I have built for you, son of Shor, a hammer of your father's blood, as terrible and beautiful as he, and I have crafted it for you, son of Kyne, in your mother's forge. Take it and bring death to devils!". The Ash-King outstretched his arm and grabbed the mighty weapon, and spoke to Olfor, who was collapsed from exhaustion, declaring him a true son of Skyrim, and the power of his voice cremated Olfor's body in an instant.

And so now when a true Nord forges with Shor's blood, he drinks a mug in Olfor's name so that his spirit may aid in the construction of a truly terrible and beautiful weapon.




So this is my first apocrypha, I think I kind of lost track of my original vision, but I hope you guys think it's OK. I was going for a sort of folk-tale style that you might hear in a mead-hall. Is it stinky?