Far, far away in the East it was forged--so at least says the story--
Tempered in fire by the dwarfs. Bjorn Bluetooth the first one who bore it.

Bjorn lost at once both the sword and his life in a bravely-fought battle,
Southward in Groning Sound, where he struggled with Vifil the powerful.
Vifil's possessions descended to Viking.

At Woolen-Acre,
Old and infirm, there lived a great king with a beautiful daughter.
See, from the depths of the forest there cometh a giant misshapen,
Higher in stature than man, a monster ferocious and shaggy,
Boldly demanding a hand-to-hand combat, or kingdom and daughter.

No one, however, accepted the challenge, for none had a weapon
Able his hard skull to pierce, and therefore they called him the Iron-skull.

Viking, whose winters scarce fifteen had numbered, nobly advancing,
Entered the fray, secure in his strong arm and good Angervadil.
Cleft at one blow the hideous goblin, and rescued the maiden.
Viking bequeathed the good weapon to Thorstein, his son, and Thorstein,
To Odin ascended, bequeathed it to Fridthjof. Whenever he drew it,
Light filled the hall as when northern lights entered, or lightning flashed
through it.
Hammered of gold was the hilt, with strange letters 'twas covered;
Wonderful mysteries were they in Northland, but known to the people
Who dwell near the gates of the sun, where our fathers lived ere they came
hither.

Faint were the runes when the land was in quiet throughout all its borders;
But when the followers of Hild were summoned, then were they burning