Once Drodia's essence had left her body, it drifted towards the heavens just like her ancestor had. Both Ogre and Dwarf essences have their places in the heavens. Wächter Agmundr brought his dwarven warriors to *Kriegers Ruhestätte, the "Warriors Resting Place," and Vrål brought her ogre warriors to Grotta av de Enorma, the "Cave of the Enormous."

Both appeared to Drodia, some distance apart from one another. She first wandered to Kriegers Ruhestätte. She had grown up with the tales of Wächter Agmundr and his tales of glory, honor, and love of the dwarves. She had grown up praying to him, giving a tithe of her shiny findings from the cave so he would continue protecting her clan.

As she approached the entrance to the resting grounds, two dwarf guardians blocked her admittance.

“Move along, large one. There is no place for you here.”

Drodia was crushed. She looked on toward the home of the ogre essences. They were foreign to her, but perhaps the dwarves were right. Where she never had a home with them, perhaps she would find peace with the Ogres, even though the living ones killed her.

She approached the entrance to the cave, a brutish, scarred ogre with one eye missing stepped in her way. “No room for puny ones.”

Drodia walked between the two. She sat and looked down at the world she had recently been a part of. She watched Banthid as he and their kind fled further from the mountain and further into the forest. She wished there was something she could do to help them find a new home.

She prayed, “Wächter Agmundr, guardian of souls, please help my fellows find shelter, even though they are not fully your own.”

She then prayed to the goddess, Vrål, who she did not know, “God or Goddess of the Ogres, please hear me and help my fellows find shelter, even though they are not fully your own.”

Drodia then sat in the heavens and watched her kind flee.

Wächter Agmundr and Vrål both heard the prayers of the Dwarf-Ogre and agreed to a meeting in the place between their homes.

“The Dwarf-Ogre does not belong to either of our worlds, yet she is ours,” said Wächter Agmundr.
“She was braver than any ogre I have seen in years. She deserves a place to rest,” said Vrål.
“And she has a strong bond to those in her new clan, stronger than my own dwarves as of late.”
“What say you? Shall we consecrate this middle-ground? She was caring leader in the realm of the living. Shall we charge her to tend to the realm of her dead?” asked Vrål.
Thus it was agreed. The two set aside space between their two resting places for the Dwarf-Ogres to go after death.

The God and Goddess approached Drodia and offered her the new land.
“I will prepare the land for the arrival of the Dwarf-Ogres’ essences. But it will be a lonely time until someone joins me.”

The God and Goddess pondered on this a moment. Wächter Agmundr finally replied, “Your companion and guardian of your resting place shall be a beast of both realms, just as your race is of both realms.” He whislted for his beast, Warnung. She was a canary the size of his head, which perched upon his shoulder. “As long as the dwarven-race has been in the mines, the Canaries have served to protect our kind from the invisible dangers that are within them. They are loyal and willing to sacrifice themselves so the dwarves might survive another day.”

Vrål bellowed for Skral. He made it to the newly consecrated place in one bound from the cave. “Skral is a ruthless defender and will stop at nothing to protect those under his charge. He is also a brilliant hunter.”

The God and Goddess took their animals and created from the two an egg large enough, Drodia had to hold it in two hands.
“Care for the creature well, and it will serve you well. Treat it poorly, and it shall abandon you and be a menace to you and your kind for eternity.”

Drodia cared for the egg for days. She created a nest from leaves and branches. She sang to it, kept it warm, and spoke loving words until the day it hatched. Out of the egg came a bright yellow, 2 legged creature with wings. It had the head and hind legs of a dog, feathers, body, and wings of a canary.

Drodia smiled at the mutt and called her, “Bergdis,” but lovingly referred to her as “The Mutt.”

Drodia had not forgotten the Dwarf-Ogres. She watched them every day as they struggled against hunting parties and the harshness of the forest. One day, when Berdis was strong enough to fly, Drodia instructed her to lead the Dwarf-Ogres to a new home. She had looked down on the forest and found the perfect spot. She ordered Bergdis to first ensure the area of the forest was clear of anything hostile to the Dwarf-Ogres. Next, The Mutt’s task was to find the new clan and lead them to their new home.

Bergdis did as she was told. Banthid was the first to see the creature and called for everyone to hide. They were a skittish group, afraid of anything that crossed their path. Too many had chased them after their esape from the ogres. The Mutt sniffed out Banthid and nuzzled him.
“What a strange creature you are,” he said. Some of the gruntlings who grew up with the ogres wanted to eat the creature, but Banthid wouldn’t hear of it. Bergdis would fly ahead down the trail to their new home, then run back. It was a very funny sight to see for the Dwarf-Ogres. They laughed and whooped and chased after The Mutt until they came to the clearing Drodia had chosen for them. Banthid was the first to arrive and found Drodia’s essence waiting for them there.
“I have made this place safe for you. It may seem wild and unkempt, but it is safe and will be home,” Drodia’s essence smiled, then disappeared. It was then that Banthid instructed everyone to start setting up their new home. Bergdis flew back to Drodia and they awaited their friends to join them another day.

Banthid was the Chief of the Dwarf-Ogres for a long time. In his death, he joined Drodia in watching over their consecrated resting place. They continue to watch over the Dwarf-Ogres and welcome all who are ready to sleep forever.

Rog will continue with Rog’s adventures tomorrow!