“For every one of us, living in this world means waiting for our end. Let whoever can win glory before death. When a warrior is gone, that will be his best and only bulwark.”    The Anglo-Saxon Poem “Beowulf”

Alas for the Geatish folk, the hero Beowulf is dead. Slain by the dragon that has lately ravaged our lands, our king feasts now in the halls of the gods. In final service to his folk, he slew the great firedrake with his dying blow.  Who will now unite our people, lead us against our enemies and ward us from the wights of the wild?

Mourning, leaderless and beset by foes, what is now the Wyrd of the Geats?