Post by Ulf Hednir on Jun 1, 2017 14:36:09 GMT
“A cowardly man thinks he will ever live, if warfare he avoids; but old age will give him no peace, though spears may spare him.”
-Havamal
A calm river stretches between two mountains, one waterfall cascading into the river causing the water to ripple; a two-seat kayak, one man sitting in the rear seat alternating the oar to either side of the kayak, and a large dog sitting in the front. The man has long blond hair tied tightly back, and is shirtless, but is wearing sunglasses and evident to see he is wearing gray pants. The sun is reflecting off the surface of the water illuminating the man. The man stops moving the oar and allows the kayak to flow freely in the direction that he generated the momentum toward, as he takes a gander at his surroundings; the dog looks excited near the front and stands up momentarily wagging its tail before taking a look at his owner, seemingly smiling; the man grins before continuing to paddle the oar through the water to move them closer to the riverbank… as the draw ever nearer, the dog eventually leaps from the kayak and paddles its own way to safety, while the man gets a bit closer before setting his oar down and getting out from the kayak, and dragging it safely up onto the riverbank.
The man stands there for a moment, water dripping from head to toe while his eyes wander to the surrounding trees; the dog is near the water lapping at it until the man begins to walk forward and whistles at the dog, speaking directly after…
Man:
“Komme, Freki.”
The dog, whose name is Freki, wags his tail while following its owner to a narrow dirt pathway. The two walk for two minutes before coming to a cabin in the woods, and the sound of clawing and barking can be heard from the distance; he approaches the door and just swings the door open, as a second dog looking similar to the first rushes out and immediately sniffs Freki, and almost tackles the man afterward.
Man:
“Ned, Geri. Du kommer neste gang.”
He pats the head of the dog, and both of the animals retreat into the house along with the man, who leaves the door wide open; the camera follows him in showing a cozy cabin -- a few axes hang on the wall, along with a shield and a sword with runes carved into the blade; the man walks to a dresser with a couple statues sitting on top of it, but in the center of it is a letter; the camera focuses on the IWF stamp in the upper right-hand corner, and a smile crosses his face. He opens a drawer on the dresser, and picks up his phone; after pressing a few buttons on the phone, he places it on speaker and sets it back on the dresser. The phone rings three times before the person on the other end answers.
Person on Phone:
“Hallo?” (Hello)
Man:
“Hei mor.” (Hello, mother.)
Mother:
“Hei, Ulf! Hvordan går det?” (Hello, Ulf! How are you?)
Ulf Hednir:
“Jeg er flink. Mor, jeg må gå vekk en stund. Jeg trenger deg til å sjekke på hundene på hytta for meg.” (I am good. Mother, I must go away. I need you to watch the dogs for me.)
Mother:
“Hvordan det?” (Why is that?)
Ulf Hednir:
“Jeg ble gitt en kontrakt på IWF.” (I got a contract with IWF.)
Mother:
“Gratulerer, sønn! Du vil gjøre det bra! Selvfølgelig vil jeg sjekke på hundene dine!” (Congratulations, son! You will do great! Of course I will check on the dogs for you!)
Ulf Hednir:
“Takk, mor. Jeg ringer deg når jeg kommer av flyet. Ha det.” (Thanks, Mother. I will call you when I get off the plane. Goodbye.)
Mother:
“Ha det.” (Goodbye.)
Ulf presses the button to hang up his call, and exits into a separate bedroom he has for his cabin.
The scene re-opens in a dimly lit room, resembling an interrogation room, with a table and chair in the middle; seated in the chair is Ulf Hednir, with his arms resting down on the table leading to his fingers folded together, and his gaze is forward, as he sits slightly hunched over to speak to the IWF audiences.
“Fate is a fickle thing; a lot of us feel that we are trapped by it… I see it with the rich versus the poor; people feel that the rich get richer, and the poor get poorer. I could list a number of things for where people feel trapped by fate, but the fact of the matter is it does not matter what you are ‘fated’ or ‘destined’ to do; all that matters is what you choose to do. The Norns, from our birth, have destined every last being to a certain task--to their calling--destinies can change.
When I was en gutt, I would have never dreamed that my destiny would bring me to the world of professional wrestling, much less to the I-W-F. I ask myself: was it my destiny? Or did I make it my own? Hearing the stories of the mighty Thor with Glíma, how he was the greatest to ever do it; how he could not be beaten, and I cannot help but allow my mind to captivate the sensation that it was not only the Norns who may have woven this destiny for me, but it may have even been at the request of Thor; as if Thor had gone to the Well of Urðr and picked me to become the greatest to step foot into the wrestling ring!”
Ulf had allowed a dreamful gaze to come across his face, his eyes lighting up as he considers the possibilities.
“It would be such a great honor to have been chosen by Thor himself to walk this path.”
He inhales a deep breath in through his nose, and back out through his mouth, as if the deep breath would bring him back to the sense of reality.
“There is no better joy I have than having this opportunity to show the world what I am capable of doing; no better honor I have than having the opportunity to bring honor to my family, to my ancestors, and to my gods; bringing fame to my family name, by stepping into the IWF and defeating every foe that stands before me. I remember min far telling me the tales of Thor, and I remember dreaming of being as strong as I knew he was from the tales that were shared with me -- then, I remember when min far had watched professional wrestling from the United States on our TV. I remember seeing these giants of men, and at seven-years-old, I believed that these were the gods and the giants battling… this was the greatest battle: Thor versus Jörmungandr, this was Odin versus Fenrir; this was Ragnarok!
However, I grew up… I became bigger. I became stronger. From the age of twelve, when I was first permitted to compete in Glíma and wrestling, I started; I became great at it, I became the best at it! But I still watched wrestling weekly, and I knew that I was nothing compared to the men that I saw fighting inside the ‘squared circle’ and becoming the best at it.
I am honored to be fighting in IWF. I am honored to have such a great opportunity…
And these opportunities do not come every day. That is why I am not going to allow mine to be wasted -- that is why I know that I am going to step into the ring this Monday, at Sacrifice, and I am not going to be defeated by Mr. Happy; I am not going to step into the ring the following Monday, and be defeated by whomever my next opponent may be. Because I will make the absolute most of my opportunity…
Growing up, and being trained; I know that I could not have done any of that on my own. I know that I needed the guidance of experts from years before me -- that is what I gained… but no man, no woman, no god, no goddess, may step into the ring for me. None may fight for me. Thor may not fight for me. This is a battle that I am going into on my own whenever I step foot into the ring; if I win, it is I who win. If I lose; it is I who lose. But that is even more reason for why I cannot lose…"
Ulf sniffles momentarily, letting his opponent come to his mind: Mr. Happy.
“I know who my opponent is, and I know that no man should ever be underestimated; people may look at Mr. Happy and see that he is a clown, clumsy, nothing more than a joke whom they laugh at and they appreciate the laughter he may bring; what I see is an opponent with enough cushion to stifle my attacks. I see no joke, I see a man that is in my way to glory. You may say clumsy, but I’ve even watched Jackie Chan in the Drunken Master… clumsiness does not mean uselessness. As far as being a clown goes, does not one person remember It?
There is another aspect that people should open their mind to, rather than seeing a clown; a clown is another word for a prankster, or trickster.
The great Trickster… known by Loki. He was never to be underestimated, for some would argue that he was the smartest, but most treacherous of all the gods; that is the primary reason that I will not underestimate you when we step into the ring, Mr. Happy; because people seem to have forgotten how treacherous, and how brutal Loki could really be… all because he was known for being a trickster. All because he was known for getting a laugh out of all the gods.
He was never to be underestimated.
Whether the Norns protect me, or whether I have to battle with them myself at Sacrifice; I will not allow myself to lose this match! It does not matter how much I have trained, it does not matter how many experts have guided me this far, it does not matter if Odin stands against me; which is hard to do because it is said that whichever side Odin fights for is always the victor…
But nothing has ever said that I cannot force a stalemate until Odin sees fit to be on my side, and allow me my victory on Sacrifice! Which is what I will do, if it is what I must do!
Mr. Happy, I just want to ensure that you know when we battle on Sacrifice… I am going to beat you… I am going to have my arm raised as the winner. There is nothing in, or out, of this world that can stop me…
I avoid no spear. I will march to the heart of warfare if I must; at Sacrifice, I will step into the middle of that ring with Mr. Happy, and with anyone who so wishes to get in front of me, and I will let them all know that on this path I am walking, I will find my glory; I will find honor; I will do it on my own. This Monday marks the start of a new era… a new time… it will be the time of Ulf Hednir!
Skål!”