2019-10-27 - To Hel and Back

Summary:

A trip to Hel to pick up a misplaced Wife.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Sun Oct 27 04:05:49 2019
Location: Hel

Related Logs

None

Theme Song

None

astrydfenrissigynlokisif

Having recently returned from Muspelheim, Loki has been trying to get caught up on what's happened in the last month of so while he got his shite together. Rejuvenated, he's visited with Captain America in a 'secure' cell at the TriSkellion, and met an alien girl in Central Park, and an easily embarrassed Doordasher, which was fun. But there's so much more to do - so many lost Asgardian relics to be found and cached, or, if there's profit enough to be worth it, returned to their original owners.

But what is really on his mind at the moment is, of all things, his Wife. So…time to do something about that, saving a dead wife from the afterlife, /that/ fits his new game plan of doing great things and to Hel with anyone that gets in his way or disapproves. Loki digs out his scrying bowl, dusts off his ancient tomes, and fires up the old scrying magics. First - Valhalla, alas, no Sigyn. He tries several other realms of the dead, and finally gets a hit in Hel.

"I hate it when this sort of thing happens." A sigh, and then he ponders, and finally casts his mind forth to reach two particular souls he knows well - time, space, distance, dimension - for these two they are no barriers. «Come to me, if you please. Loki Laufeyson, Loki Odinson asks you attend upon him and that you hear his plea for aid.» Each of Astryd and Fenris will get this surprisingly polite invitation from the Liesmith and with it a sense of the hidden ways to walk and the path through his wards.

For Sigyn, this all started with her death at the hands of a Jotun raiding party whilst Loki was on one of his wanders, she fought, but she died. Worse, they had a spell net made to capture her soul before she could be Chosen, and Hel was where she was banished. It has been a long time in Hel.


Fenris arrives with Astryd which… makes sense. The two are often together. The manner of arrival is simple. A tear opens up in reality and a man in a autumn coat walks through, hands in pockets. He takes one look at Loki, his expression one of curiosity, caution and wry amusement.

"What?" Is all he says.


Astryd steps through the tear in reality, dressed as she usually is in a trousers and tunic top. The tall, stern blonde looks marginally amused when she sees Loki. Fenris' response just adding to it.

"Hello Loki, you rang?" From all view of things, the blonde is completely unarmed.


Hel is not meant to be a pleasant realm, but Sigyn is a goddess in her own right… a goddess of a nature almost antithetical to this place, which has not been an easy situation. Sigyn sits on a bare stone bench in what in another realm might be a garden, telling stories to the spirits of children who died of disease and thus were sent to Hel when they died. A few older spirits have begun to drift closer, women and servants who died of illness. Hel will never be -pleasant- but this little patch of it has become better than most, a haven for a few.


Loki is dressed in his mortal attire of a black suit, black tie, black shirt, black…one gets the idea. He sighs at the ripped up spacetime, and then nods. He /is/ a prankster, fair enough. He'll take exception next time. THIS time he smiles cordially to his Son and the Valkyr warrior lady. "Hello, Fenris, welcome to my home." He moves to the greatest of the wolves, and actually offers a polite half-bow. Oh yes, he wants something significant!

A bow over Astryd's hand if she permits it. "Hello, Lady Astryd, also be welcome in my home."

The God of Mischief grins then, eyes bright. "Who wants to go on a rescue mission with me to Hel?"


Fenris inclines his head to Loki. They're in his home and Fenris has old school manners. Very old school. Like, 6th Century. Of course he knows the God of Mischief well enough even if they interact but infrequently in the grand scheme of things. He's probably one of the few Asgardians who doesn't regard the Liesmith with undisguised suspicion and contempt.

"Not exactly a family fishing trip is it? Whom have you lost?" He does not add 'this time'. Loki does not often lose things or people but you know…

Cough. Godkiller.


"Greetings to you as well, Loki." The blonde answers inclining her head. No matter how reckless she is, she still has her manners and she would never do anything that embarrassed Fenris. OK. Not willingly.

"Hel? You know you have but to ask and I will lend you my skills, but my Lord asks a good question."

"Who are we rescuing and why?"


Loki stands very straight, his clothes shimmering and then replaced with his full battle regalia - golden helm with massive gildened horns back swept, golden breastplate and gilt mail, his arms and legs sheathed in plates of gold and green leather. Affixed to his back a sheath for his mighty blade, Laevateinn. A fur lined cloak is worn in elegant folds and he LOOKS a Prince, he FEELS a Prince of Asgard.

"My wife, The Lady Sigyn, Goddess of Fidelity. I know not how, but she has been banished to Hel." And then Loki's smile turns utterly cold and cruel. "And I want her back."


"You. Misplaced. Your wife?" Fenris says with a quirked brow. That might make him feel sliiiiiiiightly less a prince. It is important to note that Fenris does NOT say 'You. Misplaced. Mom.' Because that would not be accurate. The look of the Old Wolf is simply one that says 'really'?

"You take us to the nicest places, Loki. Very well yes. We'll help you get her back." Astryd will likely not have a problem but Astryd has not been thinking straight recently.


"Your … wife. Is in Hel." The blonde gives the God of Mischief an even look. "I will help you and I can take you in. I know ways in and out of the Underworlds that not many do. It won't be overly safe, but worthwhile things aren't particularly so."

No, the Valkyr hasn't been thinking straight and honestly, this sounds like a lark.

"Do you know *where* in Hel we should be looking? Fenris, can you open a Way to the coldest point on Earth, please?"


.~{:--------------:}~.


Type "+thelp" for help.


Well, yes, in fact Loki does feel a bit deflated when Fenris gives him that quelling look of incredulity, but…he's VERY good at hiding his true feelings, and just smirks. Guilt - not his favorite feeling! In fact it is one that he rarely indulges in, much preferring the lovely fun of brooding and plotting and contemplation of mischief.

"Helheim actually /does/ have some lovely bits, alas, this is not really going to be one of them."

He nods to Astryd's question. "Yes." And sorry, he's already feeling a tad guilty, the level look o'doom can't get through his Smirk Armor just yet. Not /yet/.

"Actually…I cast runes, and did some fairly potent divinations and have a good solid fix on where I think she is. However, we need to make one stop, if we're to succeed the Runes suggest rather heavily that we need Lady Sif." Which will likely mean that Loki needs to put on his groveling togs.


"You're going to…" Fenris sighs. Loki and Sif have a history of course. A much more extensive one ironically than he has with either Loki OR his wife. What? Exile tends to put a dent on being home in time for dinner. Especially when dinner might be ragnarok.

"Well we'd better get that done. I'm going to stay on THIS side of the portal while you do it though? I'm not really welcome on Asgardian soil and if she's at the embassy…"


"I have no objections and whilst I've been on the Embassy grounds, I'm persona non-grata as well. Go and fetch Sif and then I shall guide you, when my Lord opens the Way so that I may do so."

Astryd looks to Fenris and then Loki as she stands by waiting for portal to open. This won't be easy but nothing she hasn't done before.

In fact, this might be exhillarating.


Scrying bowl is fired up, and Loki chuckles. "She's at the barbecue place near the Embassy." Loki calls up the image as a trivial exercise of his illusion, and then with a grin opens a portal of his own, being a seasoned dimension walker. He steps through, still in full regalia, because…well…it is near the embassy, he can dress like this and only get a few odd looks.

Which he rather enjoys, honestly. Attention whore much? Why yes!

Poor Sif will just KNOW that Loki wants something if he's popping in with his full gear on. Right enough, he greets her. "Lady Sif, I have come to ask you on bended knee…" And he does so. "…for your aid in an epic endeavor. My Wife, the Lady Sigyn, has been most cruelly and foully banished to Hel and I beg your aid in her rescue. Will you consider my plea?"

And yes, he horned helmed head is lowered as he asks.

How many have EVER seen Loki kneel?


Caught in mid-bite, Sif pauses with a handful of brisket and outright STARES at Loki. She lowers the food back to the waxed paper that doubles as a plate, and tries her damnedest to not let her suspicion show openly on her face. She's … not nearly as good at that as Loki is.

"Prince Loki." She lets him kneel there for a moment longer, then starts to wrap up her food, clearly preparing to leave. "I will need to return to the embassy for my weapons and armor." She's ready to leave in just a moment, and says completely seriously, "To be clear, Your Highness, I do this solely for Sigyn."


"Also he wants your hand in marriage." Fenris says from behind Loki. A kneeling man in the middle of a restaurant DOES get attention and when Fenris says that people start getting their cellphones out to take pictures and film. The Old Wolf smirks. He IS Loki's son. He has a sense of humor. It's just a rather sardonic one.

And tends toward trouble making a bit.


Astryd stands back and raises a pale brow at the Lord of Mischief as he kneels. "Well isn't that different… Ohhhh, Brisket." The blonde steps forward to acquire two pieces, one she hands to Fenris as she snorts at his words.

"You get to choose which hand." Astryd says absently, munching on the meat as she watches.

"Let us do this then and be off…."

Because of course the blonde wants to do this.


Once allowed to, Loki stands and even smiles for some of the cameras shots. "I am fairly certain that New York doesn't allow bigamy, my son." Which will likely confuse the hell out of some of the witnesses, assuming they don't know their mythology of course.

He inclines his head to Sif, and yes, is still being nice and hella-accommodating. A smirk, and then a second portal forms to just outside Sif's door in the Embassy, because of course he knows which room is hers! Once she's armored and geared, he'll let the portal drop as she returns, and then looks to Fenris and Astryd. "Here." He shows them a…sort of garden, in a dead place, full of dead things. "This is what I scryed for her location."


Consider how Astryd sounded delighted, she hands the brisket off to the blonde warrior, and continuing to very pointedly ignore Fenris' comment, she steps through the portal Loki has created and goes into her room.

She's gone only a few minutes before she's ready in full armor with her sword and buckler in hand. Of course, as she steps back into the barbecue place attired like the Aesir she is instead of the Midgardian clothing she'd had before, they are all likely treating the establishment's other patrons with tales to share over their modern equivalents of hearths for … at least days.


"Tell them you're polytheistic." Fenris smirks back at Loki. Okay. NOW he is just trolling. And why would he not? Who better than the Aesir to know about trolls after all.

Fenris does at least take a slightly more serious cast to things and when they're prepared to leave he stops talking. It won't do to have both Loki and Sif glowering at eachother and him the entire trip.


"If you would, my heart?" Astryd gestures to Fenris. With Loki's map he can get them there. Astryd's power comes next when they get to the garden and beyond. "Remember when we get there, do not step from the path and ignore the voices that you will hear." She says rather sternly.

Removing her hair clip, the 'basket' transforms to small round shield and the 'pin' to her sword. "I am ready …"

With that, she steps through into the garden and takes up position, grey eyes looking around for who will greet them.


The transit to the garden is smooth enough — but once everyone appears there's a sick sense of wrongness for those that have been here before. It seems the place is on a sort of a lockdown, as if the ruler of the place has warded it especially strongly. Now…in the past that sort of thing had been caused by a break out, an invasion or most often when the Lady herself was deeply in magical workings or absent for a time. Regardless, getting out is likely to be a fair bit harder than getting in was.

Loki frowns, and looks about, at this strange garden…and then as sight clears he can see Sigyn, seated at a bench surrounded by spectral children.


Sigyn is saying with amusement to one of the children, "No, that is a story for another time." Then there is a disruption, and the children flee behind her, scattering for safety for in a place where very little ever changes, anything strange and new is likely a threat. She rises to her feet, her concern evident, "Loki?" Then her expression lightens, "You're alive…" And she runs towards her husband. Astryd and Sif might note her wounds… no longer bleeding, not here, not in this place, but cuts to forearms and shoulders, run though the side with a sword… though no wounds to her back. If she died in a battle, and not a coward, she should not have ended up -here-. And for those with a heightened sense of smell… she doesn't smell quite alive, but neither does she smell dead… and Sigyn is here in body, not merely soul.


Fenris plucks the small necklace off his neck as they pass through into the garden. The small unworked shard of silver hanging off it transforms into a large silvery sword. Very large. Like, probably want both hands to use it kind of large. A war sword. Fenris developed a fondness for them during their heyday in the 11th century. Trick bevel. Mortals are so ingenious.

"Sigyn." Fenris nods. He knows her. They've met. She's visited though again being an exile puts a damper on any notion of Family.

As does Fenris' own nature.


Maybe Astryd anticipated problems when there aren't any. Still, better to do this than be caught off guard. "Lady Sigyn." The blonde inclines her head as she takes her place beside Fenris. "You do not belong here. How did this come to be?"

Valkyries have a sense of these things.

"Although it seems that you are quite … at home." she nods to the children spirits.


Sif follows the others through, sword and buckler already prepared to be used. She looks around, then focuses on Sigyn and the spectral children. As the visibly injured woman rushes up to Loki, she remains on the alert, watching around them for anyone or anything that might take exception to their presence. After all, they don't belong here.

"We shouldn't linger here," she reminds the others.


"No, no we should not linger." Loki agrees, and then he's got his arms full of Sigyn. "Hello, my wife, I apologize for how long its taken to get here. The Runes indicated /this/ day as the best one to find you." He holds her a while, and then presses her out to arms length to see her wounds. His frown is not feigned, there's /real/ anger there.

"So…I assume the other guy looks worse?"

If not, well, Loki might just have a -slight- tendency to murderous overkill when getting revenge. A tad. Just a tiny smidge.

It is a good thing that the band of heroes and heroines are alert, they'd see a rotting sceletal figure approach, a Draugyr warrior maid.

A warrior maid in the distinctive arms and armor of a Valyrie. ~Accursed Astryd, I call you out, face me if you dare.~ The maid's voice challenges in a sepulchral whispering rasp. The weapon is one that Astryd would know - a fallen sister who vanished long ago, more than a millenium in fact, her fate unknown until now.


Sigyn would phrase it differently, that since marrying Loki she has been snared in a web of politics and prophesy that has prevented her from knowing Loki's children as well as she might like. Still, she is unfailingly polite, and returns the nod. "Fenris."

Sigyn looks over at Astryd's question, "I was ambushed outside one of our estates by a group of Jotun. The golden net they cast over me stopped my magics, I could not teleport, could not even reach out for help. I fought as best I could ensnared, and at least one will sire no more children, but…" She shudders. "They ran me through. My breath stopped, but my soul could not leave my body because of the net, so my heart beat on even as a bled out. The Jotun bundled me up and threw me over the wall into Hel… When I could not win free on my own, I decided to make myself useful." The fact that her heart still beat, that she was sent over the wall not through the gate means she was never officially numbered among the dead. So any spells or wards that would have detected her death were not triggered.

At the approach of the draugyr Sigyn murmurs, "Tis the nature of this place… it is much easier to get in than to get out."


"Raven, do not even think it." Fenris knows, with something of an internal sigh, that she's thinking it. She has been thinking that kind of thing ever since they last prevented Ragnarok. Sif's noticed it too. Loki, if he hasn't yet, soon well.

"It appears that the dead are taking exception to us. Is there any particular reason why we can't all leave by the way we got in?"

There might be. It's possible Sigyn needs something before she can leave, after all.


"Then we shall lead you out. If I had known previously, I would have come for you myself." Astryd responds before scoffing at the draugyr that comes at her. "Not Accursed, Sister. Just exiled for having a heart where others had none." She answers easily.

"Set your feet upon this path and follow it to the edge of the glade… To leave, Sigyn will need a bloom from the tree of the dead - and then, if a Way will not open, I can lead us out." She tells the others, not turning her back on the Valkyr but starting to move herself. "Rest Sister. Your battles are done and I am a Raven of Fenris, now." Her sword rises and the grey eyes fix of the woman. "As you hear, Herja, my Lord does not wish me to fight." She takes a step towards the Draugyr, putting herself right in the others way.

The urge to just lunge at the dead Valkyrie and join the fight is strong but Fenris' words have some impact on her.


The arriving skeletal Valkyrie gets a sharp look from Sif, but Astryd has it well in hand and Fenris is making sure she doesn't give in to reckless compulsions. She leads the way on the indicated path, having done this sort of thing before, and taking point so that one of the others can take up the tail.

"Where is this tree of the dead?" She'll get them on the path toward that tree so they don't have to spend any more time here than absolutely necessary.

But first… She pulls a knife from under one of her vambraces and offers it to Sigyn hilt-first. No one travels without a way to defend themselves.


A blink at the offer of a blade to his wife, then Loki offers her a second, knowing she favors daggers even as he generally does, it isn't like he's not carrying several. He then draws his sword, the blade igniting as he does so. "Beware, Herja Once-Valkyr, we are here to right an injustice. My wife's death never completed, she /never/ actually died and was placed here falsely."

The Valkyr actually ignores Loki, which makes the Liesmith bristle.

~You see not the troth, Sister, but your cause tonight is just. I will stay my wrath but know this…when the wards are lifted, when the Lady's attention returns to this place, I will have no choice but to reveal what has happened. An you love your lord and life, heed my warning for the Sisterhood we once shared.~ At that the Valkyr turns, and reveals the cause of her having fallen, an assassin's blade buried in her spine. The blade? Svartalfar in make.


Sigyn accepts the knife from Sif with a grave nod, and heads down the path at Loki's side. "There's only one tree in this glade that has flowers, and they never fall, never fruit. The path should take us there." She takes the second blade from Loki, carrying it with the ease of practice. The path does indeed pass by the tree, and the blossoms all seem to be just out of reach of the path. All it would take is a step off the path to collect one at an easy height, and Sigyn has wandered this glade freely for quite sometime. But she is part of a group now, and rules… rules for journeys like this are tricky things. Instead she turns to Loki, "Boost me up, if you would?" That will let her take a blossom from overhead without leaving the path.

Softly Sigyn murmurs to Loki, "I am glad you have that sword, for when we leave here… my wound will bleed again. You will have to deal with it, while I hold my life in my body… I will need to be under our own rooftree to have a chance to properly heal." Yes, she is suggesting cauterizing the wound. Better pain and a possible scar than truly dead.


The wind blows chill and Fenris looks up at the sky, such as it is here. Dark and grey, as per the usual arrangement. It is quiet with the departure of Herja but it cannot be counted to stay that way. The dishonored dead that live here mostly wouldn't have the stomach to fight four Asgardians but there's always the danger that Modgud has decided to take a break from guarding the bridge. She's…

Unpleasant.

No sign of her yet through.


"Make sure you do Sister and be sure to tell her that she had one who did not belong." Astryd answers turning to guide the small group along the path. The sight of the blade in the Draugyrs back has her hissing. "Name they who did that and they will die by my hand."

Fenris is likely rolling his eyes about now.

"Lady Sigyn's hand must pick the bloom but there is nothing to say we can not assist her.


Again taking up the role of sentry, Sif puts herself on the opposite side of Loki and Sigyn from Astryd, so they have guards on both directions of the path. Astryd's explanation of how the bloom must be acquired makes sense, and she offers promptly, "Would it be easier or faster to have two people assisting Sigyn?" She glances at Loki as she asks, but her eyes promptly go back to watching their surroundings for any others who might approach in an attempt to stop them.


A simple thrust plants Laevateinn into the path, and then Loki nods to his wife. "We'll treat your wounds before you expire of them, of course." A wry twist of his lips. "Bit of a pointless jaunt otherwise, mm?" He nods thanks to the others as they take up guard positions, and even offers a faintly mocking bow to Sif. "I think I can manage, Lady, but I thank you kindly for the offer."

That said he places both hands on Sigyn's hips, and lifts her easily, and should she need even greater height he'll simply grow larger. Shapeshifting is good like that!

Once the bloom is plucked, he sets her back on her feet and then grins to all assembled. "See? I /do/ ask you to the nicest places. So many interesting people, and we've not had to kill anyone yet."

Of course…that's just about the worst thing one can say in situations like these, akin very much to 'what could possibly go wrong'. The Valkyr, whispers a name to Astryd. ~Kelas Darkfire, an assassin.~ She plucks the blade from her back, and offers it to Astryd.


Sigyn plucks the blossom with Loki's help, holding on to it tightly. If Astryd says it is needed to escape this place, she'll take no chances with it. Lifting her, Loki's hands can't help but come in contact with his wife's blood, not as warm as it should be, but not cooled completely either, and still as sticky-wet as when she was thrown over the wall into Hel. Loki could have probably gone a very long time without feeling that particular sensation, the blood of his wife literally on his hands. When Loki makes the comment about not having to had to kill anyone yet, Sigyn gives him a look. Loki knows that look, the mixture of exasperation at his tempting fate tempered with the knowledge that Loki would not be the one she fell in love with if he didn't tempt fate.


The bloom is much like a rose, though not quite. The petals black as the blackest night. No thorns on the stem though, so that's something.

Astryd scowls and nods to the Draugyr "I will remember that name, Sister." Taking the dagger, she slides into her belt "And when I locate him, I will cut his heart out and ensure that he never finds Valhalla."

With that the blonde turns to look at the others. "Keep moving. The ladies attention will soon be on us and whilst we might reason that Lady Sigyn does not belong here, our own presence will be questioned."

She starts down the path with her sword held in her hand.


Loki retrieves his flaming sword from the path after he sets his wife down, a minor cantrip whispered to clean the blood from his hands, and another used to bandage his wife's many wounds. It won't stop the bleeding, but it /will/ potentially help when and if they manage to get past Valgrindr, literally the 'Fence of the Fallen', the wall that surrounds Helheim. He studies the bloom, so different from the roses currently extant on Midgard, but…that's as it is.

The group makes their way down the path and after a time they come to the gate from the place, now, normally people can't get out that way, even so it is not left unguarded.

With a low growling that can be felt in the ground itself, a massive Hound strides from the shadows. Easily the size of an African elephant the massive beast is wearing in a spiked war-collar, and his great expanse of chest drips blood. ~Hold, I am Garmyr, I smell you Fenrisulfyr, e'en in your human guise. You and these others cannot pass. Rest, enjoy this place, for it is your new home.~


Sigyn nods her thanks to Loki as he bandages her wounds. No, it won't help now, but when they leave every bit will make a difference. As Garmyr makes his appearance she holds her ground, moving to stand side to side with her husband but doesn't attack. Fenris is the one called out, it's for him to answer this challenge.


"I'm a little busy Garm." Fenris' speech patterns have lost a lot of their olden formalities. He still knows how of course. Still does it when the occasion calls for it but often especially when dealing with the Aesir he uses more casual mortal speech. Because it annoys the living hell out of them.

"Besides…" He says as he steps forward, shedding the illusion of a human guise and becoming the wolf of the end times as he does. "I have other appointments. Worlds to end, All Fathers to slay. Fire Hydrants to defile. Oh wait. That's your thing isn't it?"

The Old Wolf bares his teeth as he reaches Garm's size. "Move. Or I'll move you."


While Loki and Sigyn move out of the way, Astryd takes her place beside Fenris. Shield on her left arm, sword in her right, the blonde growls as Fenris bares his teeth.

"I don't expect that I will be needed but should you harm my Lord, I will end you." The Valkyr looks to the Wolf "I am here, Fenris, remember who you are."


The massive brute of a hound's eyes glow red, and his maw takes on a decidedly grin aspect. ~You are the stronger, I will grant you that, Fenrisulfyr, but here…in this place…on /this/ ground, I do not think you will pass without invoking more power than you dare.~ As Garmyr speaks, Loki moves to stand beside, though slightly in front of his wife, blade drawn, a nod to answer hers. Being Loki, however, he also readies a spell to bind Garmyr's senses. He'll let his son deal with things /first/, of course.

The hound takes a ground shaking step forward. He bristles and postures at the equally massive Wolf, THE Wolf. ~Yield.~

Loki interjects. "You mean you yield to us, very wise, dog." Because taunting the megahound is ALWAYS a good idea.


Sigyn murmurs to Loki, "If we can't go through the gate, we can try to go over the wall. But that usually takes…" Well, it usually takes a sacrifice of something living. Doesn't have to be a human, but it's why she didn't escape that way on her own. Had she so much as an ant in her pocket she would have tried it. She sighs when Loki taunts the giant hound. Sigh #438… you just had to throw oil on the fire, but it's my kitchen that's going to burn… Oddly specific, but symbolically appropriate in this case.


"The question is, am I willing to do that, Garm. Am I willing to risk embracing my legend to get past you." Fenris takes another step forward, hackles up.

"Let me put it another way. You're wondering if I will end the world to get out of Hel. If Loki or Astryd or Sigyn means enough to me to risk blowing up everything. To tell you the truth, when push comes to shove I guess it's reasonable to not really be sure about that myself. But given that you're staring down the barrel of the Apocalypse Made Flesh, the most powerful force known to the Aesir, and that I will take your head clean off… well. I guess the real question is 'do you feel lucky.' Well? Do you, pup?"

Fenris delivers that with a growl in his voice and an absolutely straight face.


"Are you Dirty Fenris, now?" Astryd asks with an arch of her brow. Those movies are getting archived in a filing system that Fenris won't be able to fathom when she gets home.

At least he didn't say what he'd do once he takes Garms head right off. So that's something.

"My Lord will not need to pull on his full power to best you, puppy. He has my sword by his side. Now, YIELD and get out of our way."


The Hound of Hel pauses at Fenris' plagiarized quote, not having seen the movie, the threat seems very genuine and quite menacing. He does take a moment to fix the Lord of Lies with a baleful glare. ~When we finish here, I will be happy to show you that yielding is not in my nature, trickster.~

To which Loki's reply? "Oh, by all means, I'll enjoy very much killing you and using your pelt as a throw rug, I have just the place too, right here in Niffelheim." Nope, not even faintly intimidated.

Not VISIBLY.

Sigyn gets a glance at sigh #438, and shakes his head. "I was hoping for number 223, actually." The 'Exasperating but heroic, mostly exasperating' sigh.

He looks to Astryd. "You know, I think there might be a way to proceed without a fight, or shall we let them duke it out a bit first? You know, get the adrenaline out of their systems."


Sigyn actually laughs softly at Loki's teasing her. "Dear, on the other side of Gjoll, I will go for number 14…" 14? Damn all these other people around, I really want to… Oh! Well. Seems Sigyn has missed her husband, not just being alive.


"Alright. You were warned." Fenris will make threats and he will make fairly dire ones if he thinks it will get him out of an unnecessary fight. However. He also knows that the thing that buys him the most social armor is his reputation and in order for that to be maintained he needs to be willing to carry out his threats.

And with no more warning than that the Old Wolf charges forward, shoulders into the elephant sized dog and ducks low to get under him and flip him on his back. While he does spend a fair amount of time as a human he has unquestionably not lost his knack for fighting in his native form.


"You perhaps should have mentioned that before you demanded the puppy to yield." Astryd murmurs, circling wide to give the Wolf and the pup room to rumble. "Don't upset appetite, my heart, there's a lovely stag roast waiting at home." She calls out as she watches for an opening.

"I could do with the exercise myself, though."


Once the fray is actually joined, and after a brief moment pondering #14, Loki invokes his spell of blindness on the megahound. This gives the Wolf and his Raven a significant combat advantage.

Garmyr lunges forward evens Fenris does, and then the spell tangles his sight, inky black non-light coating his tapetum, stopping light from hitting the light receptors, or reflecting…of course, Loki just of it as 'blinding'. Don't you just love magic?

The hound utters a baleful bay, the air almost visibly shivering as he's flipped onto his back, a spatter of blood from his constantly dripping chest fanning out on impact around him.

To Astryd, Loki smirks. "Where's the fun in that, Lady Raven?"


Now is the time for sigh number #223. Exasperating, but heroic, but mostly exasperating. Sigyn keeps a hold of her flower and the dagger, but this is not a battle for her. Defending home, hearth, and children yes… duelling canines the size of elephants, not so much. Still, she wraps the party in a small working of seidhr, a subtle sorcery to bring battle-luck that she weaves with nary a ripple to betray her presence. She worries about the attention this fight might draw, and doesn't want to add to it.


Fenris goes for the throat. He wasn't joking about 'take your head clean off.' He has no doubt that if he does, Garm will be back. After all this is the realm of the dead. If the ruler's favorite puppy winds up dead, well. What do you think happens.

"Astryd! Go!" He snarls. They should make their way out of here as quickly as possible. He'll catch up. No one is going to want to keep him here. He's not housebroken.

Fortunately Sign didn't have to deal with that particular problem.


"There is little, I will grant you that, Lord of Mischief. However, I do prefer that my Lord not eat the Sun and that I may be by his side forever more."

Fenris' instruction … gets a scowl from the blonde but she backs off and gestures to the other three. "Follow … now … if my Lord is harmed from this and you don't get out, I shall not be pleased."

She's itching to get into that fight but Fenris has spoken.

As to housebroken. She's had to deal with that.


Loki grins at his wife as he feels the magic of that charm wash over them, and then he drops the sightless binding on the hound, he wants it it to SEE the doom that comes for him in the form of Fenrisulfyr's crushing and rending jaws. "Should have yielded." He states helpfully as the Ragnarok Wolf, his eldest son, quite literally tears the hound's head free of the body. Yes, there's a bit of spite to Loki's pronouncement.

He leads the way forward with Sigyn behind, and Lady Sif beside as they follow Astryd towards the gate. "A moment before we proceed, Lady Astryd."

From inside an impossibly undersized pocket he produces of all things a quarter scale Emu plushie. Just before the gate, he murmurs a word of power that the mind really cannot grasp, breaking the transformation spell on the plushie. Yup, he's now holding a live and struggling Emu by the neck, which neck he severs with a single stroke of his flaming sword, and then tosses the body over the wall. "Okay, /now/ we can proceed safely, though we have a small window, so we should step lively."


Sigyn waits as Loki pulls out the plushie, then dispatches the bird. "Was that one of those foul tempered birds from that Midgardian island?" Yes, that is how she thinks of Australia. Though -when- the two of them were in Australia and what they were doing there is perhaps best not mentioned. Sigyn darts through the gate as soon as Loki states it is safe, manages to get five steps beyond the gate, then goes down to one knee with a snarl of pain as her wound begins to bleed again. She has spells at the ready to keep her heart beating, her lungs working, but true healing… that will take time. "Still… have to cross the river…" Then she just focuses on breathing. Living again -hurts- but is better than being dead.


Fenris does catch up after just a couple of minutes. He's human again when he does so and is wiping off his face with a kerchief. It's a bit stained it is true. "Right well. That was bracing. Having said that here is on the fairly short list of places I don't want to spend any appreciable amount of time in and the longer we do this the more likely it is that I'm going to have to break the universe to get us out so…"

If the river could be crossed and a way back to Midgard arranged, that'd be nice.

"You're looking well by the way Sigyn. Well. Under the circumstances."


"What the hel, Loki?" Astryd asks as the struggling emu appears. "You know, bigger isn't always better." She deadpans.

With the bird over the wall, the Valkyrie waits for Fenris and then gestures. "Go, all of you. Loki, use your magic to get us over the river. I want to go home."


Loki takes a moment to cast a healing spell of his own on Sigyn, sure, he's not the best of healers, but every little bit helps, and then he nods to Astryd, bowing rather floridly. "As the Lady Chooser of the Slain, requests, so mote it be." When he straightens, he looks to his wife first, a brief flash of genuine concern, and then he turns his brattiest of smirks on the rest as he invokes a cloaking spell.

Now, the giantess guardian of the bridge Gjallarbru over the river of Gjoll, is Modgud, and she's a very VERY powerful fighter. Fortunately, the impassible river of clashing swords is spanned by that bridge, and even better the fact that Loki can cloak them all with magic now that they're all in humanoid in form.

His spell washes over the group, illusion concealing and banishing the truth - what is a God of Mischief, a Ragnarok Incarnate, Chooser of the Slain, Goddess of Fidelity, and Epic Heroine of the Sword becomes instead a warband of Draugr, creatures that she simply salutes as the band really does just walk out of Mordor…err…HELHEIM.


When Fenris comments about her appearance, Sigyn snarls in pain, then mutters, "circumstances…" Well. Maybe it wasn't a snarl of pain, and maybe Sigyn isn't the domestic fluffhead many take her for. Then again, would Loki have gone through all this trouble for a ditz? She manages to get to her feet, and Loki's illusions will conceal any other aid she needs to get across the bridge. Once over the river, they are outside of Helheim and its defenses. Any blocks to world-walking or other transport are gone.


"Brainnnnnnnnns." Fenris mutters as they walk out past Modgudr. He gives Sigyn a look that says 'that was unexpected.' And it was, but he can probably be forgiven for that? He hasn't really interacted with her all that much. Not in the scheme of things. He's spent most of his exile without the company of his fellows, other than Astryd.

And occasionally others.

"All seeing eye my bushy tail." He mutters. Once they're out of sight Fenris tears a Way open and gestures everyone onto the hidden paths. "Lets get home shall we?"

The Journey is a strange one but it will, if all goes well, dump them out in the Old Wolf's living room.


Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License