Summary:With the locations known for clues to Godkillers whereabouts, it's time to start planning. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Before any operation, any mission, there's a lot of planning required. Of course, any good General will tell you that no plan survives first contact, but still you need a plan for success.
Astryd had put a call out to people to meet her in Central Park. It's a nice day, the sun is just starting to set and the blonde can be found at a picnic table, one that she's spread a blue checkered tablecloth over, set out plates and mugs and containers of food.
There's potato salad, cold cuts and deli meats, tossed salad, dressing and bread rolls, at least. And wine. And godsmead for those not mortal who arrive.
Despite the domestic nature of the setting, she still looks stern and foreboding.
"Is this a briefing or a picnic?" Fenris looks a little bit amused by the spread but he's not complaining. Because food. It might seem like the Old Wolf eats a lot.
Well, wouldn't you if you were in reality a twenty five foot tall four footed apocalypse?
"Who are you going to go bother first. The Russians or the Hell-Lord? There's almost no differnece between the two in some ways. Don't answer that yet, though. I'm sure the others will have questions when they arrive."
Again, it took Sif asking someone to translate the message for her, but she received it and is here. Dressed in her usual choice of Midgardian attire — jeans and a simple shirt — she's brought her sword and buckler along. She'd have brought them regardless.
The blue checkered tablecloth holds no meaning for her, but the spread of food and beverages certainly does. She stops near Astryd and Fenris and greets them with a respectful bow, her fisted right hand held against chest. "Well met, Valkyr Astryd. Fenris." She then looks to see who else is arriving.
*
"I believe your question has merit, Sir Fenris." The nearly-unctuous British-lilted voice precedes the arrival of the Jackal. He's in dark jeans today and a deep-green windbreaker overtop a black long-sleeved undershirt, his hair combed back and away from his face. He slows in his approach, no doubt sensing the ambiance of dread eminating from Fenris, but appears to swallow and forge those last few steps into proper conversational distance.
"Why can't it be both a briefing and a picnic?" His ocean-blue eyes flick to Astryd and linger, his lips rising in a faint if brave smirk. "I could not help but attend, milady Astryd. I am an exemplary example of how curiosity might kill the cat and satisfaction…"
He peters off upon noting Sif's presence. His eyes lazily roam over her to her toes and back up to her face. "…brought it back," the master-thief finishes in a tone intrigued. "Lieutenant Atherton, at your service." To Sif, he executes a low and precise bow well-learned from time spent in the foreign courts of the late 1800s.
*
"Both. Never let it be said I don't look after my companion." Astryd smiles "And I know how to keep mortals from turning tail and running. No more jokes about keeping souls though, my heart, that didn't seem to go down very well last time."
The blonde smiles, which does a little to ease her stern countenance, but just a little.
"Ah, here is Lady Sif. Welcome to our table, Lady. Please take a seat and allow me to offer you a drink." Fenris will of course pour as they proceed.
"Ah, Ambrose. There you are… I had wondered." She'd chosen the location deliberately so the thief might feel more at ease. "Lady Sif, this is this mortal I mentioned to you. He has been most gracious in helping us with some translations and has agreed to journey with us on our quest."
Yes, yes, Ambrose had totally agreed.
"I think, Fenris, we will beard the lion in Mephisto's den, first."
"Oh you do, and I know you do." Fenris chuckles. When the others arrive he rises and politely bows to both of them. He knows both of course but they don't know one another.
"Ambrose. Lady Sif. Welcome. Please, as she says, sit. Eat. I'd say make merry but we are here to talk about rather weighty matters."
Which, indeed, they are. Mephisto's lair as Astryd says is rather no laughing matter.
Sif looks Ambrose up and down much like he does her, but for completely different reasons, no doubt. She eyes him in the manner of a warrior evaluating a potential adversary and, well, he's Midgardian. He must have some unique characteristics that have recommended him to Astryd or he'd not be here.
"Well met, Lieutenant Atherton." She pronounces the rank title precisely as he does, as it is not one she's heard before. "Valkyr Astryd, I have requested the assistance of two others as well. Lord Kai from Alfheim, and a Midgardian soldier by the name of Bucky." No, she doesn't know his family name, or she'd have used that instead of the clearly more casual familiar name. "I was not able to reach either of them to join us here."
At the invitation to sit, she does so readily enough, but her sword and buckler remain close enough at hand that she can get to them quickly if needed.
*
Rising from his bow, Ambrose then nods meaningfully towards both Fenris and Astryd, greeting them in silence and by the motion itself. "Yes…I suppose I did agree," he replies nearly sotto-voce, shooting the Valkyr a dry eyebrowing. The master-thief continues the few number of steps necessary to reach the opposite side of the table as Sif and remains standing.
He seems to have frozen up and outright stares at the Asgardian warrior-woman. A lift of his hand and his open mouth finally does form a proper sentence. "Apologies, but did you just say Lord Kai of Alfheim? Light hair, glowing skin, cherubic countenance?" The name has honestly shocked him. "About yea tall?" The hand lifted earlier flattens before himself at the height of the Elf. "If we're discussing the same individual, it is a…very small world indeed," Ambrose breathes, eyebrows arcing high. Wow - talk about a blast from the past.
*
"Just Astryd, Lady Sif. I am … no longer of the ranks of the Valkyrie, even though I have retained many of my powers. It is well you have recruited others, I fear we will need a diverse skill set for where we must tread." beat "You know one of Lady Sifs acquaintances. I guess it is a small world really."
That's a story Ambrose might be able to recount a little later. Astryd really is rather focussed right now. "Please help yourself to food as we speak."
"It is not easy getting to Mephisto's domain, it is not easy entering it and then we have to find and recover the tablet. Fenris, do you have diagram we found last night?"
"I want to be sure though that we're all prepared what meet us when we get there. Mephisto has long been a foe of the Asgardians but others might not be expecting some of his tactics. One of the things that I think will be most problematic is his penchant for imprisoning human spirits in demonic bodies. It is possible those spirits may know … well, them."
That's not all that happens, but it's a start.
Sif is in the middle of reaching for a bread roll — the only thing on the table she immediately recognizes as innocuous — when Astryd menions getting to Mephisto's domain. She freezes mid-reach and stares at the former Valkyrie. "Astryd, are you saying you know how to get into Mephisto's domain? That is … not anything I have heard was possible. How did you come by this knowledge?" She finally plucks her chosen roll from the pile and tears it open between her hands while waiting for the blonde's reply.
"We have been warned, thanks to Ambrose, that Mephisto's lands will be guarded by three potent guardians wielding elemental powers. And possibly those of dreams as well." Fenris nods. "And we have recovered what is thought to be a map of his Domain. Well, inasmuch as any such place can BE mapped. Realms like that change at the whims of their masters but there are usually a few fixed points."
Fenris unrolls a piece of parchment on the table. This seems to be written in… middle German? Something to that effect.
Sif's question has him smiling. "Many realms are connected if you know where to look. This one isn't exactly… safe, though."
Ambrose gets a curious look. "You're familiar with him? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised but… when did that happen?"
Shaking his head, just a little, Ambrose has seated himself by the time the unrolling of the parchment happens upon the table. He's managed to snag himself a glass of wine filled to the brim and a few cutlets of meat along with potato salad. Opposite of Sif, he glances from the information (in a language he cannot read, alas) and to the others.
"This sounds like a bloody picnic," he mutters as he holds his glass near to his mouth. "Demonic hell-lords, dream-weavers, and the Ghosts of Christmas past. Charming." A heavy sip of the wine, not really tasting it in the end. To Fenris, he replies, "Half a century ago. Lord Kai presumed to fleece a mark that wasn't his." The Jackal certainly doesn't appear to be more than thirty at most and no proper scholar does any sort of pocket-rifling.
"Go on, tell the warrior-lass where we're headed to." Ambrose shoot Sif a wink. "Truly, it's a right picnic."
*
"Dickens got his material from somewhere…" Astryd smirks at Ambrose at the mention of Ghosts of Christmas past. "Half a century?" the blondes eyebrows rise as she looks anew at the thief "You must have been a very young man at the time."
The Valkyrie is fishing.
"It is a long story, Lady Sif, but I can walk the Underworlds of many Pantheons and have done so in the time since I was exiled. Perhaps one day, I'll tell you some of it but suffice to say, I have been to Mephisto's domain, once."
And didn't like it.
"We must journey to the very heart of Mephisto's domain to retrieve a tablet. It would be wise, before we venture forth - which must soon - to be prepared. Ambrose, do you know of such things that might be useful to ward against such things?"
"Lady Sif, have some potato salad and some home. I made the salad myself and the ham came from a lovely a delicatessan not far from here."
"Would you expound on the map, Fenris?"
Sif does indeed take portions of the ham and the potato salad, though she hesitates to sample the unusual food until she sees how someone else does so. After all, she has no idea if it would be impolite to eat so messy-looking an item with her fingers as most things on Asgard are served. She also refrains from commenting on Ambrose's age, considering that the shield brother she'd met apparently hailed from about the same point in Midgard's history. And that is not her tale to relate.
"I think I would like to hear the tales of your travels, Astryd." She then leans a bit to look at the map more closely, though the words and sigils are as meaningless to her as the menu at a McDonald's drive-thru.
"One other," Sif replies to Fenris' question. "A Midgardian warrior named Bucky. He is skilled with both Midgardian weapons and shorter blades."
Fenris might laugh at the thought of Sif anywhere near a McDonalds. Or Thor. 'This drink, I like it! ANOTHER!' 'Sir, you can just refill it over there… if you don't crush the cup…'
The Old Wolf shakes himself out of his amused thoughts and looks to the others. "The potato salad really is quite good. Just the right amount of pepper and dill." Fenris is helping himself to that. And eats with a spoon. Not his fingers.
"The most important point on the map for our purposes is here. The Caverns of Lethe. That tends to be where things go to be forgotten and if Mephisto has a tablet that he wants to keep from others that is where it SHOULD be. The trouble is that getting there…"
He taps his finger on another symbol, one that looks like a castle. "It's not called the Fortress of the Unsleeping Eyes for nothing."
So… yay?
"Half a century you say?" Fenris was still living here at that time but that was not so very long ago. Not as he reckons time. Or Sif. Or Astryd.
"I think, dear, you shall have to regale them. Also, has anyone else agreed to come who is not with us? And isn't Kai?"
*
"Let us say that Fate has had her way with me over the decades," the Jackal demures as to Astryd's questioning, " - and this era has been far kinder in comparison to those I have endured in the past." While he listens to the Dread Wolf expound upon the map, Ambrose muses over the vast dirth of knowledge he's at the very least gleaned through in his years on this earth. He considers the potato salad after hearing the praise granted it and spoons a bite into his mouth; indeed, the amount of dill is really rather spot-on.
His eyes rise to Fenris again, keen, and flick to Sif in passing. "Contrary to popular opinion, I believe that the best defense is, indeed, a good defense. Protection against the effects of the underworld itself will likely fall into categories dealing with death and the afterlife itself, if I had to hazard a guess. Charmed items — you may know them as relics," he clarifies before sipping at his wine again. "Religious icons and prayers, perhaps, if one has a deep-seated belief in their god - s." Plural just in case. "Illusionary magics deal with the ability to see, so…something about the eyes themselves. I have once used a specific ointment beneath my lower lashes to prevent being fooled. I…may have some remaining somewhere in my household." He seems reticent to share, but likely, it's due to low stores of the precious unguent. "As to the Lethe…" His spoon draws a circlish shape in the air towards the map. "Magic is both incredibly malleable and yet strict in my experience. One might counter sleep or forgetfulness with something as simple as an enchanted length of string tied about a finger."
A sigh and he adds, "I know not of this…Bucky." The subtle smirk is amusement at the nickname apparently handed out freely. The Jackal has no idea this is the equivalent of the Russian boogieman.
*
"Which Norn?" Astryd smirks at Ambrose when he mentions Fate. She is an Asgardian after all. She sobers though, unaware of Fenris' chain of thought. If she were, she'd chortle.
'No Sir. Don't crush the machine!'
"Do you know where we can these things? I can reimburse you for anything we use. The ointment sounds useful." Though, Astryd is also aware that some artifacts also work when the wielder *believes* in their power.
Magic and Faith can be strange. "Fenris, are you able to help with anything here?"
Pointing to the map though, she nods at Fenris' words "We can try and slip past the Fortress, but I fear that might not work. I would suggest, given the number who are coming, we split into two groups. One to be spotted and the other … to recover the treasure we seek."
"For you to say a warrior is skilled, Lady Sif, he must be very skilled indeed. Are you able to work with Ambrose here and ensure his weapons have the appropriate … treatments?"
Watching Fenris and Ambrose both sample and approve of the potato salad, she takes up a spoon and tries it. She does not know what 'dill' is, but the combination of flavors is indeed pleasing. The varying textures are, however, a bit disconcerting.
"If we are to split our group, then I would advise that Loro Kai be with the ones to recover the tablet. He is not as well-suited to open combat." At the question of weapons, she nods to Astryd. "I can certainly so such, Astryd. I have already set aside a pair of blades for Warrior Bucky's use, what is your preferred blade, Lieutenant Ambrose?"
"Ambrose has the right of it, more or less. Going undetected would be a great boon to us. If we try to fight our way through we'll be overwhelmed eventually. The caves themselves are trickier. Quite aside from the dangers of potential enchantments and ambient magic, they're fairly large and what we are looking for is not. We're going to have to do some exploring and we'll be on the clock. What we really don't want here is to have an encounter with the Lord of the Realm himself."
Because if they do… well, Fenris glances at Sif wondering if even she could put a dent in a Hell Lord. It would be like taking on Odin, if Odin could alter Asgard at a whim.
"Stealth in the caves may be our greatest asset there as well. And some misdirection. Do any of you have skills I do not know about regarding taking things that others would prefer remain where they are?"
Astryd he knows does not. Sif might, it's been forever since he saw her. And he knows little of Ambrose's skills.
*
Ambrose smirks back at Astryd for her crack; he's done some reading in his impossible amount of free time these days and now understands better just who he's dealing with in the Valkyr and Dread Wolf. "I've no idea which Norn, milady, but I do honor them all when I drop my toast jam side down." Honor with some very bad words, yes. He takes another healthy sip of the wine. "I…have access to a limited number of relic items myself, but I will need to discuss further with their keeper. I don't believe he means to let them go without reassurance that they be returned. He may agree to part with them if he is promised good use of them. The ointment…" A sigh. "I can spare it. There should be enough for all for one use — only the once," the master-thief stresses to the table as a whole.
The next line of questioning from Fenris has the Jackal's lips parting in a coy, pleased grin. Sif earns a brief, honestly considering glance from the man before he replies, "Blades are not my forte. I can slit a throat as easily as the next man and throw a balanced knife, but my forte lies in guns. Do consider the advantage of bringing a gun to a knife fight, hmm?"
The Dread Wolf is given the sly smirk again. "You're looking upon the man who stole the Crown Jewels of England on a dare and put them back the very next morning. The world does not know because…" A breath of a pause. "…I may also have a few tricks myself. Sleight of hand, you might say. The guards were all forgetful of me, in the end." A lift of his wine glass and prideful grin now. "If something needs to be borrowed without asking, I am indeed your man."
*
"Then all is good if you honour them all." Astryd winks as she helps to more food.
Her pale brows rise though at Ambrose's admission and she smiles wide. "Then it is set, this Bucky, you and I Lady Sif will be the distraction. Ambrose and your Kai, will do the retrieving."
It seems the Valkyrie might be somewhat looking forward to this. What? She *is* an Asgardian after all.
"If the keeper of the artifacts requires assurance, Ambrose, I would be happy to meet with them, if you deem that wise."
"Now, we have some planning to do, but eat and we will continue this discussion."