The Temple of Odin: The Story
No one is quite certain what happened that evil day, when the earth shook and lightning lashed the spires of the castle. Anyone who was close enough to know was dead, killed in the maelstrom of horror that had engulfed the castle. Those farther away heard the echoing boom of giant drums, and the occasional sinister sound of devilish laughter. Rumors had been circulating in the weeks before that the king had been dealing in matters best left alone, but no one expected what actually came to pass. In the space of a day and a night, the castle of King Lifthransir was mostly destroyed. A few walls remained of the outer works, but its once proud spires were reduced to piles of rubble. As for the inner castle, which burrowed into the heart of the mountain, it was rumored to be largely intact. Few, however, were brave enough to venture beyond the forbidding gates of the castle, and even fewer returned. Even now, two decades later, the giant's drums can occasionally be heard echoing out of the bowels of the mountain, and the shade of King Lifthransir is reputed still to haunt the Great Hall of the castle.
For the lands once ruled by the Castle of the Winds, these have been dark and evil years. Bands of goblins and ogres, occasionally led by giants, have been raiding the settlements throughout the realm, and periodically strange creatures, like nightmare creations of a mad wizard, have issued forth from the castle to ravage the countryside. As a defense against these depredations, the people of the town of Crossroads have become skilled in producing arms and armor, and in creating enchanted items. Even so, life so close to the castle is precarious at best. As time has passed, people have even noticed changes in the weather. Strange storms spring up out of nowhere to lash the lands with lightning and rain, or dry spells during the spring when all should be green and growing, as if a malevolent force was trying to control the weather, and with it work ill across Midgard.
Prayers to the gods have gone unanswered. Despite the freak changes in the weather, even Thor has been silent. Perhaps, some say, the gods are helpless to do anything, or perhaps they are just waiting for a mortal to right the balance.
At your farm:
You gaze once more at the charred ruins of the farm where you were raised. You buried the blackened skeletons of your godparents in the remains of the garden they loved; Grimly, you vow that nothing will prevent you from avenging their deaths.
The marauders pillaged the farm quite thoroughly. Nowhere in the ruins can you find the amulet left by your true father, whose dying words, whispered to your godfather were supposedly of its importance to you: of how it could lead you to your fortune and great glory, but only if your proved your worth. Your godparents had promised it to you for your 18th birthday; now you have neither godparents nor birthright, and your birthday just passed.
A search for clues in the rubble finds only a confused train of footprints, leading north, towards the mountains. Many of the footprints seem much too large to have come from the boots of bandits or soldiers.
You look north, wondering: Where might the amulet be by now? To whom must you prove yourself, and how?
. . .
There's a lot more too this story, but you'll learn that as you play the game. I'd put it here but I'd have to type it all by hand. The story is a nice thing to have, and important at parts of the game, but the gameplay is what's important.