Summary:Fenris and Astryd meet with the Finder. Sif and Ambrose turn up as well. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
    |
There is a being that can be intensely useful to people who know how to locate her. She's worn many guises and had many names over the years but these days she's a dark skinned, slender woman with a luxurious head of raven black hair… to those with mortal eyes. To those who can See, that head of raven black hair is actually a head of raven black feathers which somehow only adds to the touch of the exotic around her.
Fenris knows her as The Finder.
Today the Finder is at a small stand at Jones Beach State Park, not too far from the boardwalk, in a white crop top and purple sarai. Next to her a couple dozen surf boards. She doesn't have any customers right this second but she doesn't seem at all bothered by that. Those who are meant to find her find her.
Fenris is in human guise and coming up the boardwalk. He looks like he came from the city, and he did. He's in a button up shirt and slacks, sleeves undone and rolled up. It's a nice afternoon. The breeze is blowing. It's a tad brisk - it being well and truly fall - but the weather is pleasant nonetheless.
"Ah. There she is." The Old Wolf says, spotting feather-hair'd woman.
"I wonder if Sif and Ambrose decided to come out."
"So it is." Says the tall stern looking blonde who has her arm linked through the God Wolfs. "I'm a little … bemused … my heart, that you're still agreeing to help me." There'd been some tense moments recently, as Astryd has been trying to find a way to stop Fenris' Fate finding him.
Yet the pair are here and the blonde has questions of the Finder.
She's dressed in a nice dress that comes to her calves. Not that does anything to soften the soldiers mien about her.
It's not the deep rumble of a Harley in the distance down the boardwalk. Rather, it's the finely-tuned hum of a motorcycle meant very much for out-pacing any police car or tandem bike on the streets of New York City. It pulls into a space in the public parking area and after it's been silenced, the driver removes his glossy black helmet from his head with a shake to loosen up his medium-length brown hair.
"Thank ruddy god the traffic cleared up outside of the city's limits. I thought I might risk mounting the sidewalk. It's still…such an itch," he murmurs, wincing.
It really is, this itch — different from the Bane, sated earlier today with a ride on the subway. This need to come here, to this place, at this time… It was damn eerie. Ambrose, in his motorcycle leathers, pockets the keys in his jacket before he begins walking, his pace brisk. Boots make a confident tattoo on the wooden boardwalk as he travels, fully assuming Sif to be behind or beside him.
Sif had asked Ambrose for a lift to get out to this boardwalk place, as when she'd asked for a taxi the Midgardian embassy employee told her flatly that they did not travel that far. The two-wheeled vehicle had been a basic type she'd seen frequently but never experienced herself before today.
She still doesn't understand why the Midgardian who assisted her insisted on singing something about a steel horse and being wanted dead or alive.
After the motorcycle is parked and the helmets stowed, Sif walks alongside Ambrose in her usual jeans/t-shirt/black jacket/black boots Midgardian attire, though this time the boots are the ones she usually wears with her armor instead of the Earth-made pair she normally can be seen in when strolling about the Manhattan streets. She starts pulling her hair out of the low braid she'd put it in for the ride. "I was told that an itch meant some manner of problem with one's skin."
Fenris is helping Astryd primarily so he can keep an eye on her, but he doesn't say that. Instead he just pats the Valkyrie's arm and smiles. "Of course I would, raven."
The sound of the motorcycle pulling up draws his attention and a small smile. "Well look who it is. Hello Ambrose. Sif."
"Indeed I could say as much. Hello my dears. Come, come, don't be shy." The young looking dark skinned, feather haired woman beckons to everyone. "I can tell you're not out here for a surf, though if I may say, it's probably quite invigorating today."
She looks like she's in her mid twenties but anyone with an eye for magic can tell that she is ANYTHING but.
"My my. Don't YOU have the look of a fellow collector." That's to Ambrose.
Astryd might know some of Fenris' reasonings as glances up at the God Wolf again. "I'm glad, Fenris. I don't like quarreling with you." Is that what they had been doing? Maybe.
"Hello Sif, Ambrose. Isn't it a lovely day? Did you come to see The Finder as well?" She greets the pair before turning and lowering her head to the Raven Woman.
"Hello Finder. What have you on offer today?"
Fenris and Astryd are given the usual circumspect once-over from the master-thief. "Greetings, Fenris, Miss Astryd." He inclines his head in a courtly nod not seen for several centuries. "The Finder, you say? I am here to scratch an itch."
He asides to Sif, "An itch may also pertain to an unknown desire to attend upon something — usually a compulsion in the back of one's mind."
The stall-minder then gets his attention hard and fast. He almost rises onto his toes to turn and face her, his dark eyebrows lifted high.
"…you are extremely astute," the Jackal comments, now squinting hard enough to darken his eyes several shades. Nightshine-red doesn't wink…yet. "It seems like does draw like, does it not?" A nod of greeting towards the Finder follows even if Ambrose never does look away from her in the process. He remains at least two strides away from the stall for now, head tilted in the nuance of the canid: things on offer?
Sif nods a hello to Fenris and Astryd. "It is far more pleasant here than in Manhattan." Obviousness, they name is Sif.
"The Finder?" This seems … interesting. She looks at the — whoa — feather-haired woman and can't help but notice the banter between her and Ambrose. He appears to be VERY interested in the woman. Interesting.
And then it occurs to her. There are things — people that she would like to find, and quickly. Perhaps this Finder woman can help.
The dark skinned woman smiles and moves from her place, leaning on the edge of her stall to just behind it. She pushes one of the boards off a table to reveal a silken cloth littered with small things. Trinkets, coins, gems, medallions, charms. All of them magical even if none of them are very major.
"Yes. That is what I am called. I'll promise you a fair bargain for anything you wish me to find, if it is in my power to do so."
"She means that." Fenris says. "It's her nature. She can't cheat you. But she also can't give you anything. She MUST accept a fair exchange."
The woman smiles a bit cryptically and takes a seat. "So. A wolf. A raven. A collector. A warrior." At least she didn't say 'Thief'. "All brought to my doorstep on the same day at the same time. Would it be too much to say I was expecting you?"
Her laugh is a light, airy thing. "Well, Astryd. I have charms as you can see. Things my little birds have brought to me. Coins for paying ferrymen and amulets to ward off against ill chance. That is, if you are in the mood for baubles and fancies. But I know you. You crave something more do you not? Secrets, I think."
Her gaze turns to Ambrose and Sif. "It is what I do. Be astute that is. But keen as my sight is, I am not a mind reader. Tell me. What is it you wish. If it can be found, I can find it, or my children can."
Astryd smiles faintly as Ambrose does his thing and she nods to Sif "Indeed, Lady Sif, The Finder." Someone they've dealt with previously but only rarely. And even then, very, very, carefully.
"I am, lady. As you probably know. There are artifacts spread over the Realms that are said to guide Fate according to those we do not mention. It is those I am seeking. One, I believe we have a lead on. The others are hidden in words as honeyed and twisted as a honeycomb."
Ambrose's expression can be seen to morph into something very, very coyly amused when the Finder explains her purpose for being present. Sif is given a pleased side glance; by the time his cerulean-blue eyes slide over Fenris and Astryd, he's sporting that infuriating little smile, as if he's just found the key to the chambers holding the Crown Jewels and just…won't…share it.
"I have an interest in a certain artifact myself," he volunteers, voice gone almost silky. "Perhaps you've heard of the Ring of Sir Owain? Arthurian legend stated it was lost when the King fell, but…" His eyes narrow at the Finder and his smile curls more. "I suspect you will be able to tell me if it exists rather than being a fancy of a twelfth-century poet."
Looking from The Finder to Fenris and Astryd and back, she hesitates to speak up. She knows what she wants to find — the artifact of Balthakk — but what would this woman want in fair exchange for something of THAT sort?
Then Ambrose mentioned a ring belonging to someone she's never heard of, though from his explanation, said Owain lived only about nine hundred years ago. Do the Midgardians' short lives really make that brief a time span become stories of legend?
"The ring that legend is based on is much older, but it exists." Finder says, glancing up at Fenris who nods.
"Most of the magical weapons in human history are a lot older than anyone suspects. It's odd, is it not, how in many stories they are just… found?" Not made, though that happens as well.
"It is not a small thing that you ask though. I can give you the secret of it's location but the price for it must be paid. I'd need you to do me a favor and speak to someone for me."
That seems like a rather low price. Surely there's a catch.
"And what is it, Astryd, that you seek? Something whose location is hidden? Concealed by Those We Name Not? You seek a way to alter the Plan. Speak to me the name of that which you would have me find?"
Sif gets a smile. "Come on now, dearie? I can see it on the tip of your tongue."
Interesting that she hasn't asked Fenris anything but then there's enough haggling going on right now.
"I wish to Alter The Plan, my lady, yes." Astryd glances to Sif and then Fenris. The Artifact of Balthakk is one of those things that will help them. She takes a breath though before answering.
"I seek chains, Finder. Chains that bind and entrap. Not those that bound my Lord all those aeons ago, different ones."
"I seek the Chains of Krakken." *Where* she got that information, is another story and it's not one that she's told anyone. That leaves Sif to ask about the Artifact though.
"The Ring of Owain, Ambrose? What is it that you wish to be truly invisible from …" Oh, she's heard the tales.
To hear that the ring does exist sets Ambrose afire. His eyes go glittering with avid interest and at this point, there's a wink of carmine-red through his pupils. The Bane flutters through his veins like stardust for a second before he very quickly settles the curse's influence immediately around him.
His tongue briefly tips the cupid's bow of his lips. "I do not agree to any terms set forth in regards to this exchange until I hear of whom you wish me to speak to," he says evenly to the Finder.
Astryd receives a thin Cheshire Cat's smile. "The world, Miss Astryd. The world," he purrs, already thinking of the vast array of things he could simply get away with.
Looking at Fenris and Astryd again, Sif hesitates only a moment more before saying, "I want to find the artifact and avatar of Balthakk of the Octessance." The terms of this Finding are likely going to be too steep, but at this rate she's willing to take that risk. Sindr can NOT be allowed to incite war between Asgard and Muspelheim.
She looks at Ambrose and her eyebrows draw together slightly at his expression when the Finder confirms that the ring he asked after is indeed real. Such an artifact sounds like the sort of thing that belongs in the weapons vault on Asgard, not wandering loose in the hands of Midgardians.
"Two of you wishing to locate artifacts of the Octessence. Interesting…" The Finder says with a small smile. "Well, Sif, the Avatar and the artifact are in the same place. The first wields the second and at present the Avatar of Balthakk is on this plane. You could probably find out where yourself with enough asking so I consider this a fairly small request. I would only need the feather of a Valkyrie to part with such information."
Well there's a Valkyrie right here but… Feather? Astryd may have more of an idea what she's talking about.
"As for you Astryd. A relic of gods long dead. Any small thing will do. I know you've been to underworlds that are no longer used…"
The eyes turn back to Ambrose and the Finder smiles. "Scathach." That's all she says.
"You can't hide from the world, Ambrose, no matter how well hidden you are. Things will find you, regardless. Beware what you ask for." Astryd cautions. Which might well get a look from Fenris and Sif, given the way she's been behaving.
"Any small thing, Finder." There's a pause as Astryd considers the trade. "The underworlds don't like parting with their treasures but I'll do it." The last time, Fenris had to go and find her. Would it be same this time?
The mention of the Feather has her nose wrinkling. "The Allfather won't be pleased at that."
Ambrose returns the Finder's smile before uplifting a pointer finger. "A moment."
Stepping away from the grouping, the master-thief then pulls out his cell phone. A quick Wikipedia search turns up the basic gist of this 'Scathach' individual and he hums to himself lightly. Intriguing…
"Done," the master-thief agrees even as he slips his phone away into his pants pocket again. "I shall speak with her. What matters shall I address?"
His eyes find Astryd again and he smiles blade-thin. "I am dreadfully aware of this, Miss Astryd. Do note my mate." Apparently, that warning isn't going to sully his fun.
Astryd's reaction to the mention of a feather is … concerning. "Then perhaps I should seek the artifact another way." She still has yet to track down Hod, after all, though she has heard of a place where she might find him.
And that worry on top of how Ambrose is reacting to the possibility of actually acquiring that ring… "Ambrose, perhaps that ring is best left where it is."
She can HOPE he'll listen to reason, right?
"Very well. She's going to loan me her spear. Gae Bolg. Tell her that I need it and do what she asks to wake it and send it my way. The spear will be in her possession so you will not have to make a separate journey." Um. Gae Bolg? That might be an interesting conversation.
"If you wish Sif, but I'm confident you could convince your friend to part with one if nothing else. If you change your mind of course my offer does stand. Simply bring me the feather and I will tell you where the Avatar and Artifact are." And she will know where they are, it seems. At any given time.
"Well. Now that that is settled, are you interested in a day in the surf?" She smiles a little bit. "No charge, of course. I'll get plenty of payment by watching."
"Ooooh Gae Bolg. The Spear of Pain." Astryd murmurs. Waking the spear is never easy, either. Ambrose has a journey ahead of him. Maybe he'll take Astryd. That sounds right up her alley at the moment.
"One-Eye shouldn't worry you so much, Sif. He's exiled us from Asgard, this is the price he gets to pay. The 'Feather' the Finder speaks of is a favour a Valkyrie will give a fallen of her choice. It's not something we do often, but we do do it. There were a couple I escorted to Valhalla who I gifted such to. We just need to find them."
"Thank you, Finder. Come, my heart, I am hungry… Will you join us, Ambrose? Lady Sif?"
If the name of the spear amuses Ambrose, he keeps the emotion low and banked behind his half-lidded eyes. His thin smile hasn't weakened to hear its translation from the Valkyrie either: this is a challenge he hasn't encountered in some time. Ah, the adrenaline seeker, ever chasing risk.
"Of course, m'lady Finder. You shall receive your spear in quick time," he affirms to the woman in her stall. She gets a bow from his waist to boot, his hand pressed to his sternum.
"I suppose I might join you briefly, yes. I have plans this evening, but they may wait considering you generally have good taste in food." The Jackal winks at Astryd and Fenris, utterly unrepentant.
Sif offers the Finder a bow as well, though as she moves to join Fenris and Astryd for something to eat, she can't help but ask.
"What is meant by 'a day in the surf'?"
"Surfing." Fenris says with a chuckle. "Come. There's a good seafood place not far from here. We can get some bouillabaisse and I will explain."
Yes Sif. Mortals use boards to ride the waves and try to stand up on them. They are, indeed, quite strange.
"Come on you two." That's to Astryd and Ambrose. And off they go. Lunch, after all, is important.