Twilight of the Gods, p.I

It sates itself on the life-blood

      of fated men,
      paints red the powers' homes
      with crimson gore. 
      Black become the sun's beams
      in the summers that follow,
      weathers are all treacherous. 

   Do you still seek to know? And what?

Three roosters signal the end, death-knells touching Asgard and echoing in the frosty halls of grim Hel. Their cry marked the breaking of every chain that kept the world of man safe, and every god in the North knew their doom was nigh. 

Garmr, the blood-stained hound of Hel that guarded the gates of the underworld, bayed and raged free, hunting the souls of the living. 

Fenrir the monstrous wolf, fed the hand of a god and bound with 6 impossible things, broke his chain and howled. His shoulders scraped against the lowest stars, and his eyes burned bright with fury at the ones who bound him.

Loki the Lie-smith was loosed as his son the Midgard Serpent thrashed the seas and slithered up the world tree. Laughing madly, his hair ablaze and his form flickering like fire from man to beast to giant, the Trickster followed. 

The giants and trolls of Jotunheim and the frost giants of Niflheim were roused to battle. Surtr the king of the fire giants in Muspelheim strode forward, burning brighter than the sun. The tormented hordes of the nine halls of Hel rose from the dead, and the world of men was consumed in blood and ice and fire.

In Asgard, Odin Allfather, the king of the gods, rode down to Mimir's Well. "My sons are in play, and the world-ash takes fire at the resounding of Gjallar. Loud blows Heimdall, his horn is raised; Odin seeks counsel with my head," murmured the bearded lips. Mimir, dead for centuries, whispered the secrets of the world as the waters of knowledge coursed through his dead tissues. "Then is fulfilled Hlin's second sorrow, when Odin goes to fight the wolf. Then shall Frigg's husband fall."

Odin hefted the dripping head from the well, looking into its eyes. "Yes uncle," he replied, sighing. "Not much longer and we both have our rest. But their is much yet I need to know."

At the well of Urd, Odin's wife Frigg consulted the Fates as well. The final preparations were made for war. The armies of the viking dead were called forth from golden halls. Mounts were girded, armor worn and weapons drawn. Thor kissed his wife and children, laughing joyfully for battle. Hermod dashed constantly from Vaniheim to Midgard to Asgard, sending messages and supplies along the line. The beautiful Valkyries on their great raven steeds circled above. Silent Vidar sat patiently, sharpening her spear and waiting. Then Heimdall, the guardian at the gates of Asgard, raised his horn and roused the heavens to war. 

Rather than wait for the Bifrost Bridge to be breached, the gods rode down to battle; Freya on her chariot drawn by cats, and Thor in his drawn by goats, Frey on his boar Gullinbursti, and Odin on the great eight-legged horse Sleipner. 

In the birthing halls, Alfrothul the goddess of the sun gave a last great cry as her daughter was born. "Name her Sol," she said, and then gasping, struggled up and onto her own chariot, flooding the world with light, joined at this eclipse of time by her brother Mani the god of the moon.

Down the rainbow bridge they all flew, down the trunk of the great world-tree Yggdrasil, down until they reached the rising tides of evil.