2020-01-06 - Star Spangled Man With A Pan


A trip to a long forgotten underworld, a fight and a Valkyrie summons some Einherjar. An unusual one is summoned.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Mon Jan 6 05:40:12 2020
Location: The Underworld

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Astryd had been adamant that the relic the Finder had requested was located in a long unused Underworld. Well, unused by Midgardians for thousands of years. Not necessarily unused by its denizons - she'd warned Fenris and Sif of that of course but had advised if they were careful there'd be no problems.

She was wrong. They were careful and there's problems.

One of those problems is a huge multiheaded Tiger-Bear type creature, what looks like a Hydra and a phalanx of spirits that have the trio pinned down.

The Tiger-Bear charges at Fenris, drool dripping from its fangs. The Hydra spits acid in Sifs direction, trying to coil her body around the Asgardian warriors feet.

The spirits are trying to surround Astryd, the blondes sword slashing to keep them at distance. That's not all that's gone wrong though. Astryd has called on spirits of her own, the spectral warriors, forming behind her. There's another warrior who's been called to her though - a sandy haired one who's been pulled from whatever he was doing…

Into the middle of a fight. In a underworld. It might be slightly inconvenient. Or a lot. And disorienting.

|ROLL| Steve Rogers +rolls 1d10 for: 7

Pretty inconvenient indeed.

By the looks of things, Steve was just reaching to pull something out of the oven at the apartment — and by the smell of it, it was breakfast-for-dinner by the contents of the cast-iron skillet he has in one oven-gloved hand.

"Buck! It's…done?" His voice fades nearly into silence as the import of his surroundings catches up to him. This is NOT the apartment — this is what appears to be something out of a nightmare. Now, admittedly, at least he came prepared. He's in his navy-blue stealth-suit with silver stars-and-bars, helmet on his head, and shield on his back — but he's probably made a bit less scary by the scramble still steaming in the skillet.


Sif manages to dodge the acid spit at her by the Hydra and attempts to get clear of those coils, but one ankle gets trapped, knocking her to the ground with a less than dignified "Oof!" She doesn't let the creature get away with it, though, immediately turning and slashing her sword down into the coils around her leg as viciously as she can.

And she can only hope that it lets go rather than squeezing harder. She'll heal most likely, but it won't be pleasant. Wait. Why does she smell eggs all of a sudden?

Fenris stomps on about four heads at once as the beast rushes him in his absolutely enormous wolf form. And then his other front paw is engaged in a busy and potentially deadly game of whack-a-mole with the remaining heads, stamping on them as they rear up and try to bite his leg. It looks ridiculous and it sounds like a twelve car pileup full of accordions. It might be amusing were it not for the look of focus on the Old Wolf's face.

And then… "Do I smell bacon?"

Uh oh.

"At them… " Astryd points to the spirits that are bearing down on her, using her shield to try and deflect a swipe of an etheral hand. Surprisingly that works. As she directs, Steve will feel the pull to obey … poor man, though that's probably a good thing as a man with ravens head seems to grow from the dirt in front of him.

And lunges. Glydril, doesn't like this - not at all.

"I smell mushrooms …."

Fenris missed a head - that whips around and tries to close jaws over the big wolfs neck. At the same time a barbed tail swings around, aimed for his shoulder - that's going to hurt if it lands.

Sifs sword slices the coils, irridescent green liquid seeping from them. The good news? The coils loosen letting her foot slip free. The bad news? The liquid burns, steam rising from it as it meets Sifs clothing. Extra bad news? The fanged maw swings at her.

Well, so much for breakfast.

Even if there's suddenly a compulsive itch to throw himself willy-nilly into the fray — or wait, is that old 'bad' habits kicking in — the sudden appearance of what appears to be a burly, menacing gentleman with a bird head makes the decision to engage pretty easy.

With a two-handed grip on the skillet's handle, Steve sacrifices what appears to be a fairly scrumptuous scramble chockful of everything everyone's scented thus far to take a Babe Ruth-esque swing at the raven-headed man's feathery noggin. Not only is there some serious mustard in his follow-through, the skillet itself is pretty heated still from being in the confines of the oven.

CLANG — it's a home run, and just in time for Glydril to make an appearance over his shoulders in a sudden explosive presence brimming with fire and smoke and the mantling spread of wings behind him.

Sif scrambles to her feet, resisting the urge to wipe at her smoldering clothes and turning to face that fanged maw. She sees an opening, and has only a second to decide if it's worth the risk. Honestly? There's no need to deliberate, it's worth it.

Lunging TOWARD the creature's maw coming at her, she chances those huge slavering teeth to shove her bucker into its mouth and keep it from biting while stabbing its eye with her sword. She can instantly tell it wasn't a killing blow, but it was most certainly a very damaging one.

Fenris intercepts the head with an almost feline 'swatswatswatswat' of his paw but he has to take the barbed tail on the shoulder. "Ow!" He growls as he grinds the heel of his paw on the four heads he's currently holding pinned. Then for good measure he leans forward to bite the thing in the rump.

"Thtopit!" He says around a mouthful of freakish chimera-hydra. The cling has him glancing back.

"Bwho ith fthithing wib a coogink ban?" It's really hard to tell what he's saying around his mouthful.

"What in Fenris' name, are *you* doing here?" Astryd calls out when she finally turns to see Captain America hit a home run. Glydril gets a raised eyebrow, the stern blonde pulling herself upright. "Get your Dragon under control."

No, she's not concerned by Dragon in and of itself, just the trouble it might cause if left unchecked.

Behind her, the phalanx of spirit warriors are battling with the others, one slips through causing the blonde to spin and parry a rather nasty slash. No more time for Steve or that dragon …

Which is probably good, given the raven man seems to sway - bending back so his head touches the ground, before springing back upright and lunging at Steve with something akin to a halberd.

Sifs buckler is indeed jammed in the hydra's mouth, the coils of the woman writhing violent as the sword finds an eye socket. With the sword embedded in its eye, unable to close its mouth because of buckler (and not the dessert kind), the hydra rears backward - taking Sif with her. And shakes her head like a big wet dog.

The Tiger-Bear yelp as Fenris swats it, the four heads squirm under his paw trying to dislodge him. The barbs of the tail pull free, leaving a gash, and swing at him again as the free head tries to snap at him - biting its rump.

"That's Captain America, my heart." Calls Astryd. He *is* rather hard to understand but she's had centuries of practice.

"I was making breakfast!!!"

Steve sounds very offended now, his battle-blood up and goaded on by Glydril herself showcasing monstrous defensiveness in honor of her host. He ducks a swing of the bird-man's halberd and then parries the next jab. The weapon's edge sparks off the untarnished surface of his spangled shield.

"Look, buddy, I don't have TIME for this!" He swings the skillet again — CLANG, a roundhouse slap to the face.

"I was making dinner — " Next comes the shield — CLONNNG, opposite direction.

" — 'nd my other half — " Downwards swing with the shield — BWONG.

" — really wanted bacon tonight — " Uppercut with the skillet.

" — but you can be — " A hugely-powerful follow-through upwards with the shield to toss the raven-headed man high.

" — roasted if you want!"

And there's Glydril for the MASSIVE burst of dragon-flame at several thousand degrees of temperature. Steve lands and dark bits of ash float down around him like hellish snow.

"Good girl. We're safe now, back to home base," he says calmly towards the dragon. She snorts once, pleased to have made her point, and shrinks down to linger beneath his skin, still suspicious of the entire affair.

Sif might have also asked about that strange clanging noise, but she's a bit on the busy side hanging on to her sword as best she can while the hydra shakes her like a dog shaking a toy. THAT'S going to hurt later.

Making use of one particularly aggressive shake, she swings her legs up to lock them around the hydra's neck like hanging off of a tree branch, then leaves her buckler in the creature's maw to use both hands to yank her sword free of its eyesocket. Correction, THIS is going to hurt the worst.

Gore-coated sword back in her hands, she stabs up through the underside of the hydra's jaw and into its brain, shouting wordlessly as she yanks her sword back out again, to the side and cutting though half of the beast's skull in the process.

Of course, this means it promptly collapses. On top of her. "Drasl!"

"I don't think it had anything to do with MY name, Astryd." Fenris says, giving the golden haired raven a pointed look over his shoulder before he turns back to chomp on the hydra-thing hard enough to break it's back. There. Since it wouldn't stop he'll make it stop. This done he looks around to make sure everything is under control and when he is satisfied that it is he shrinks himself down to normal size and goes to lick Steve's breakfast off the underworld 'floor'.

Nom. Nom. Nom. "I think someone should help Sif." Nom.

The Tiger-Bear roars as Fenris bites down, rearing back … but only for a moment before it collapses to the ground. There's blood everywhere, seeping across the floor to where Fenris is now …. eating.

Steve finishes the raven-dude in an impressive way. The charred remains lay on the ground, smoking, as a feather floats to the ground, brushing over Steves nose as it settles on the ground.

Astryds warriors push the spirits back, as the blonde runs her own attacker through. She winces as the Hydra collapses on Sif "I didn't cause that!" she says as moves to shove the head off the brunette Asgardian and help her up.

"You are my Lord … Fenris! I have dinner waiting at home!" Picking up Steves skillet, dented as it is, she 'thwaps' on the wolf on the backside, gently.

"Now tell me again, Warrior. How did you come to be here?" That's said so nochantly but Astryd has a sinking feeling. "Oh, do you know my Lord, Fenris and the Lady Sif?"

Steve walks over to gently if insistently take back his much-abused skillet. "That's not mine, m'am, it needs to go back to my husband, 'nd he's not going to be happy with its state," he says curtly. With its metal having cooled to a comfortable emitted warmth, he takes a moment to click the shield back into its place between his shoulders and then fastens the handle of the skillet to his suit's utility belt.

"'nd yes, I know Lady Sif. Met her before." Seeing that the once-squished Asgardian warrior is out of harm's way, he simply sighs and gives Astryd a Very Serious Look right back.

"But you 'nd…Lord Fenris, no. I don't know you from Adam or Eve, 'cept for you, m'am, were in that bookstore casting some magic." With a slight tilt of his head to grant his gloved hand access, he clicks the clasp of the helmet loose and then pulls it from his head, revealing sweaty and mussed blond hair. Oh yes, it's absolutely that blond guy from the bookstore, none other than Captain America himself. "Whatever this is, I didn't agree to this," Steve continues, his voice flat and defensive.

Sif is only too glad to have Astryd help her escape from the hydra corpse's skull. YUCK. Regaining her feet, it takes her a moment to extricate her sword and buckler as well, and then as she's hearing introductions happening, she turns to the others. And stops in surprise.

"Captain Rogers? How did you come to be here?" Clearly, she knows the Midgardian warrior already. They've helped Ms. Brant learn combat, they've shared mead and stories, they've roller skated.

"Captain. That's a good skillet you make." Fenris says as he shifts yet again and becomes a man. A man who is standing upright and not bent over the spot where the eggs and bacon were recently consumed. "I believe, Astryd, that you did indeed cause this. Or at least you and the rebounded curse that has affected the good Captain here."

Sif may want to hear of that. Fenris only knows of it second hand.

"In any case well done. Were this an earlier time I would make sure the skalds sang of your prowess with the pan."

"Fenris…" Astryd hisses at the God-Wolf. It's rare for the blonde to be scandalised, but she might indeed be about now. "And I was not casting magic in that bookshelf, I was simply aiding those who were." She sighs though. Fenris has hit the nail on the head.

"It would seem, Lady Sif, that you are looking at my first, Einherjar. It seems Fate seems has seen fit to toy with me some more."

Whether its Fate or something else, she isn't sure. "Fenris believes this is the price a spell exacted for my assistance. I … apologise Captain for any inconvenience, it was not intentional on my part, I was simply calling warriors from Valhalla to aid in our crisis."

"And I'm afraid you did agree it, by your presence in that bookshop."


"Einherjar?" Sif looks from Astryd to Steve and back. "That's not possible, especially not with a Midgardian. Also, what magic? What bookstore?" She's more than flummoxed enough by this strange turn in conversation that it takes her a long moment to realize the gore on her sword and buckler are sizzling and BURNING her hands.

With a sudden curse in Aesir, she drops them and tries rubbing her hands clean on her clothing. Which just sets her clothing to smoldering some more.

Sif gets a concerned glance. "Hell if I know," mutters the Captain, very much aware of the atmosphere around him and spiteful of it. He does blink a few times in blatant surprise to see the breakfast-snatching wolf now appearing as a perfectly normal — 'normal' — man.

His reply to Fenris is bemused. "Uh, thanks." Manners rarely desert the blond supersoldier, even in instances such as this. His free hand reaches to touch at the skillet. It's a grounding item in this particular reality, proof of what he just experienced and his own existence in it — proof that it's not all a dream. In his other hand, his helmet hangs from long-practiced looping of fingers about its strappings.

Astryd's words, however, earn her yet another intense look. "…I only came to the bookstore because Loki sent me a note by raven to pick up…" His voice fades out even as his eyes narrow. There goes the firm clench of his jaw.

Someone, namely the Trickster God, is going to get a firm talking-to.

However, Sif's flailing has him staring wide-eyed. "…that's not normal."

"Loki sends notes by raven?" Fenris snorts. He's going to walk around behind the Trickster God playing the Game of Thrones theme on his guitar. Or maybe Rains of Castamere. Or Timbers and Wind. Ravens. Honestly.

"I'll have to talk to his wife about introducing him to a wonderful device called a 'cell phone'."

Whomever 'Fenris' is, he seems to be quite willing to troll Loki. Which seems… bold.

"What on… Sif?" Fenris winces as he realizes what happened and pulls out a kercheif to try and wipe down the caustic equipment.

"If we have what we came for we should get going. Quickly."

Astryd sighs and returns Steve look with a grey eyed stare. "Blame not Prince Loki. It was the nature of spell that was wrought. It exacted a price and it seems, Captain - you and I paid some of it." Frowning as Sif flails, the Valkyr shakes her head.

With a look to Steve "You remain …" she turns to the other warriors "Be gone, my Warriors, return to your mead hall and drink long and deep, your service will be remembered." Steve can feel the pull, though it's muted and see as a portal opens to a drinking hall in a long house. The asgard warriors filter through it.

"I have it, Fenris, open the Way and take us my heart. Captain, we will explain what we can over a drink after we all clean up." beat "And you call your husband and tell him where you are." He'll be welcome to invite him over, as well.

Astryd is sure that will go swimmingly.

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