The earlier history of Tyrfing is told in the saga.  Svafrlami is killed, with the magic weapon itself, by the viking Arngrim, who thus gains possession of it; when he is slain in his turn, it descends to Angantyr, the eldest of his twelve berserk sons.  For a while no one can withstand them, but the doom overtakes them at last in the battle of Samsey against the Swedes Arrow-Odd and Hjalmar.  In berserk-rage, the twelve brothers attack the Swedish ships, and slay every man except the two leaders who have landed on the island.  The battle over, the berserks go ashore, and there when their fury is past, they are attacked by the two Swedish champions.  Odd fights eleven of the brothers, but Hjalmar has the harder task in meeting Angantyr and his sword.  All the twelve sons of Arngrim fall, and Hjalmar is mortally wounded by Tyrfing.  The survivor buries his twelve foemen where they fell, and takes his comrade’s body back to Sweden.  The first poem gives the challenge of the Swedish champions, and Hjalmar’s dying song.

Hervoer, the daughter of Angantyr, is in some respects a female counterpart of Sigurd.  Like him, she is born after her father’s death, and brought up in obscurity.  When she learns her father’s name, she goes forth without delay to claim her inheritance from the dead, even with the curse that goes with it.  Here the second poem begins.  On reaching the island where her father fell, she asks a shepherd to guide her to the graves of Arngrim’s sons: 

“I will ask no hospitality, for I know not the islanders; tell me quickly, where are the graves called Hjoervard’s howes?”

He is unwilling:  “The man is foolish who comes here alone in the dark shade of night:  fire is flickering, howes are opening, field and fen are aflame,” and flees into the woods, but Hervoer is dauntless and goes on alone.  She reaches the howes, and calls on the sons of Arngrim: 

“Awake, Angantyr!  Hervoer calls thee, only daughter to thee and Tofa.  Give me from the howe the keen sword which the dwarfs forged for Svafrlami, Hervard, Hjoervard, Hrani, Angantyr!  I call you all from below the tree-roots, with helm and corselet, with sharp sword, shield and harness, and reddened spear.”

Angantyr denies that the sword is in his howe:  “Neither father, son, nor other kinsmen buried me; my slayers had Tyrfing;” but Hervoer does not believe him.  “Tell me but truth....  Thou art slow to give thine only child her heritage.”  He tries to frighten her back to the ships by describing the sights she will see, but she only cries again, “Give me Hjalmar’s slayer from the howe, Angantyr!”

A.  “Hjalmar’s slayer lies under my shoulders; it is all wrapped in fire; I know no maid on earth who dare take that sword in her hands.”

H.  “I will take the sharp sword in my hands, if I can get it:  I fear no burning fire, the flame sinks as I look on it.”

A.  “Foolish art thou, Hervoer the fearless, to rush into the fire open-eyed.  I will rather give thee the sword from the howe, young maid; I cannot refuse thee.”