A Pox on Ragnar Lothbrok, by Sarah and Michelle

IN the days of Egil Skalagrimsson, scops sang of Ragnar Lothbrok, and the curse upon his betrothed, Kraka.
She was to wait before being with her bridegroom on her wedding night until the Moon of the Red Blood had waned. Ragnar, however, who had been long at sea and eager for sons, had drunk much mead at the wedding, and was not to be resisted.
"Manna Mildest,"(gentle man) Kraka murmured. "Look ye upon your wyfe with mildheortnesse. (compassion or gentleness)Drink ye more mead and drift to Nod."
"Do not ply me with drink and bring low my mood," Ragnar replied, casting off his shaggy pants.
"But, the curse of heofon (heaven) will befall me! Your child will bend like ye will not!"
Ragnar took his wyfe despite this warning, and drank to his wyrd (fate) until dawn.
Nine months pass, and Ivar is born without bone -- only gristle.
"I told ye so," Kraka begnornodon. (lamented)

Think you can guess the meaning of the Old English words? Highlight the above blanks with your mouse and check it out!
This story was written for class, challenged were we to use only Anglo-Saxon words. I think a few Normanisms snuck in there!