This fourth section unveils the wandering of Vigra’s sagas, where six tales are bound to the land itself.

Each story clings to a place—a hut, a quay, a bridge, a hall—where echoes of old myths still breathe.

Listeners must tread the earth and trek the paths, for the next tale is not given until their feet find the stone or the shore where it waits.

So the journey becomes the saga itself: step by step through Vigra, as if the gods had set the trail, and the voices of skalds rise from every corner of the land.  

Hear the crackle of the fire, feel the warmth upon your face,

Tonight we call the olden tales, and let them fill this space.

Six stories rise from shadowed past, from fjord, from field, from sea,

Of gods and men, of fate and might — come sit, listen with me.

In the depths where darkness dwells, the Sea’s Mistress reigns,

Her whispers lure the sailor’s soul, her call a siren’s chains.

We sail her waters, brave her storm, to seek what lies beneath,

In her embrace, we find our fate, entwined in ocean’s wreath.

Thor, the thunder’s mighty hand, now faces time’s cruel test,

The strength that once could shake the land now falters in his chest.

Yet in his heart, the fire still burns, the warrior’s spirit thrives,

In every age, the god remains, as long as courage drives.

Odin sought the mead of lore, to craft the poet’s art,

He traded life for wisdom’s core, to stir the bard’s own heart.

In every verse, in every rhyme, his sacrifice is known,

For in the mead, the words take flight, from seeds of wisdom sown.

Naglfar, the ship of death, from nails of the fallen made,

It sails the seas at Ragnarök, where destinies are laid.

We tell its tale, we trace its course, through fire and through frost,

For in its wake, the end begins, and all is tempest-tossed.

Gjallarbrú, the bridge of sound, that spans the realms of night,

It guards the dead, it guards the lost, with echoes of the light.

We cross its span, we hear its call, we face the judgment’s gaze,

Oh its reverberations! But what shall be our final phase?

Ægi, the giant of the deep, whose hunger knows no end,

He swallows ships, he swallows souls, on him the fates depend.

We face his wrath, we face his might, upon the storm-tossed sea,

In his embrace, we find our place, where gods and mortals be.

So hear these tales, of gods and men,

Of journeys taken, of battles won and then,

Of love and loss, of fate entwined,

In song and story, our hearts aligned.

Let the fire burn, let the tales be told,

In the warmth of the hearth, in the night's embrace so bold.

For in these stories, we find our way,

Through the shadows of night, into the light of day.

So hear these tales, of gods and men,

Of journeys taken, of battles won and then,

Of love and loss, of fate entwined,

In song and story, our hearts aligned.