When he emerges in dragon form, he regains 200 Mana and nearby enemies become poisoned, taking damage three times over 3s. He craves every piece, and spares no thought to shed blood for the glittering gold.įafnir transforms into a terrifying dragon and is untargetable during the process. The very symbol of greed.įor centuries Fafnir kept no company, but the War of the Gods grows ever closer, and the clink of coin runs rampant a bulging sack on the belt of every warrior. His breath turned to poison, his maw, fanged, his demeanor, fouler. Slowly, surely, twisted he became, scaled and nightmarish.
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Paranoid his last brother would steal the treasure, Fafnir guarded it jealously while the curse whispered in his ear. That night, curling his powerful arm, Fafnir strangled his father and vanished into the frosted night with the cursed gold.Īnd so it was that madness took him. Hreidmar, unaware of the maligned hoard, greedily exchanged the Aesir for the wealth. Refusing to be outdone, the Trickster God, stuffed the pelt to bursting with the cursed treasure of Andvarri. Freedom would not be theirs until Loki returned with the hide filled with gold. Horrified, Hreidmar entombed the Aesir, for the otter was, in truth, his third son. One Spring, Odin, Loki, and Honir visited Hreidmar's realm, bearing an otter pelt they'd skinned on their journey.
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In the frozen reaches of Asgard, beneath her mighty stone peaks, do they dwell, ever hammering to forge more gold jewelry, to carve more gleaming gems, to breathe curses into their finery.Īmong these wretched kin is Fafnir, son of Hreidmar, with a swollen smithing arm and a ravenous hunger for violence, both of which are eclipsed by his avarice. There is no creature, living nor dead, more greedy, more vile than a dwarf.