TOM IS SITTING IN FRONT of a crackling campfire, watching the flames dance in front of his eyes. Across the fire sits a large man with red hair and a beard who is so tall that he looks slender. He is wearing some leather garment with multiple layers in areas that suggest it is leather armor. Beside him is a spear made all of a gleaming silver metal, stuck upright in the ground with the point aimed at Heaven. The man is missing his right hand. It seemed to Tom that he should know the man, but he didn’t.
“Who did you say that you were, again?” Tom asks.
“You mortals have such short memories,” the Man says. “I am Tyr, son of Odin, son of Bor, son of Buri, calfed by Audhumla. I have saved the worlds of man a thousand times in the last five thousand years, the last time in the company of a gr
