The Broken Gods

Racing across the open ground the party reached the gates of the city and by some miracle the wolves had not yet emerged from the now distant tree line. What ever action the Dagda had taken to delay the pack had worked it seemed.

Balar was first to step through the gates and stood there for a moment in frank disbelief. All about them the inhabitants of Vanaheim wandered as if in a daze. They were all tall and beautiful; godlike in their appearance, but at the same time broken.

Many of them seemed to be blind, while others bore crippled limbs and terrible bloodied wounds. The strangest thing of all was the silence. None of them spoke and none of them seemed to notice the appearance of these newcomers to their home.