A good day to you!
My name is Egil. I would like to tell you about myself.
However, I must clear two items up before I do that.
First, there are several people who have put words in my mouth. The biggest offender is Snorri Sturluson. I have told my saga to many people. They have told it to others. Snorri appears to have liked the story so much that he wrote it all down.
Then others followed Snorri’s example. Englishmen, Norwegians and others who have never visited this beautiful place named Iceland.
That takes care of my first concern. Now – - – on to the second item.
People, such as Snorri (and those others) have identified me as a killer, a drunkard, a miser, a poet, a wanderer, and a farmer.
Yes, I admit that I can be a little moody at times. But such name calling, before they have heard my full story, appears to be a little judgmental.
Now that we have that cleared up I will need to tell you about my ancestors so that you can better understand why I am the way I am.
I must also tell you that the first part of this story takes place in Norway. But be patient, we will get to Iceland soon enough. It is a long voyage, as you could well imagine.
My grandfather was known as Evening Wolf. He did not come by that name simply because someone thought it was clever. He came by that name because he WAS an evening wolf.
You see, my grandfather was friends with, and possibly himself, a berserker.
Berserkers are men who prepare themselves for battle by working themselves into a frenzy. That way they do not feel the painful wounds and have great courage, strength and stamina. Pity the poor man who stands in front of a berserker.