Day Three of the Odinsleep - End of the First Day
Day Three of the Odinsleep (Midnight)
“I don’t know. Is there a way you can send me home? I did like the immortality and fame.”
The young woman frowns and shakes her head, “No, that is beyond our power. it may beest beyond the power of the Bifrost itself. Our proposal standeth as is – thee giveth up the mantle and in return, we wilt maketh thee more formidable. Aye or no, Korbin Crow? thee must decideth now.”
“No…I won’t do this,” the talking bird responds. He spreads his inky black wings and takes flight, soaring off into the darkness. Arthur remains for a few moments longer, keeping an eye on the Norn to see if she plans treachery but when she turns and starts walking back to the other two women he turns and flies away as well. Korbin is nowhere in sight, his black feathers blending in with the night sky as he glides over the city. Finally he spots what looks like a suitable roost for the night and descends, alighting in the upper branches of a thin ash tree and nestles in to sleep.
Meanwhile, back at the mead hall...
The group, singly, in pairs, and in small groups, departs from the mead hall at Valhalla, bound for the home of the smith to take what rest they can before the battles of the next day dawn. Along the way, Raven and Niklas talk about what sort of weapon the elf had in mind for teaching the woodsman to swordfight with. “It would be same size and shape as the blade you wield now, only heavier. Once you get used to swinging that around, your other sword will feel much lighter in comparison.”
Drax nods at the Valkyrie’s admission of being dissatisfied in her duties, as well as her warning about not wanting to spend eternity surrounded by drunken louts, I shall be guided by you in this, divine one. Be well.”
Shadow thanks Idun and Bragi for their offer, explaining that too many days are spent fighting and then asks about the name of the Valkyrie he was speaking with earlier but Idun feigns, badly, ignorance of the identity of the swordmaiden but her smile is enough to tells Shadow that the goddess knows EXACTLY who he is inquiring about. Bragi starts to answer but his wife delivers a mild elbow to his ribs and shakes her head, “More mystery, my love. Let him learn on his own.”
Before leaving, Grog slips away to the kitchen and finds a large kettle. He fills it with water and places it above a blazing fire. A soot-coated cook comes in while Grog is working and asks what the shaggy-haired spellcaster is up to only to become slightly pale as Grog shows off the enormous toe he chopped off of one of the slain Jotuns. The toe is soon boiling in the pot large above the blazing fire. Grog stirs the mix every so often and once all of the flesh and muscle and other tissues have come loose, he retrieves just the bones and dumps the remainder in the kitchen’s sluice pipes before wrapping the distal and middle phalange in a handy skin. He then packs the entire bundle into his pack and rejoins the others.
Arthur, having lost Korbin, flies back to the smith’s house and discovers the rest of the group preparing to turn in for the night. Desmond and Niklas have both availed themselves of Ygrid’s hospitality to arrange for baths and Shadow is pressing his clothes and polishing his boots in preparation of tomorrow’s efforts. Ra’ziir is busy copying spells from the scroll he claimed into his grimoires while Cedron tells everyone that the group will be spending the day with Idun in her orchard.
Kysek looks up, “I don’t know about this. If this Odin saw us as saviors of this realm, I’m not sure how we are going to do that from within an orchard inside the city.”
Eventually, the group turns in for the night. Raven, as always, has trouble entering the elven reverie and drifts off into actual sleep instead. His dreams are haunted by the today’s deaths of his companions – the ones he was able to reverse with the power of Dickory’s Bracers, an act that left several of its gemstones burned out.
Grotto, despite the previous night’s festivities, awakes the next morning feeling well-rested. The dwarf smiles as he rises and walks out into the courtyard and begins swinging his axe around through a series of warm-up exercises to get loose in preparation for the day. “Fresh apples picked off the tree sound like a great treat!” he calls out to his later rising companions.
“I don’t know. Is there a way you can send me home? I did like the immortality and fame.”
The young woman frowns and shakes her head, “No, that is beyond our power. it may beest beyond the power of the Bifrost itself. Our proposal standeth as is – thee giveth up the mantle and in return, we wilt maketh thee more formidable. Aye or no, Korbin Crow? thee must decideth now.”
“No…I won’t do this,” the talking bird responds. He spreads his inky black wings and takes flight, soaring off into the darkness. Arthur remains for a few moments longer, keeping an eye on the Norn to see if she plans treachery but when she turns and starts walking back to the other two women he turns and flies away as well. Korbin is nowhere in sight, his black feathers blending in with the night sky as he glides over the city. Finally he spots what looks like a suitable roost for the night and descends, alighting in the upper branches of a thin ash tree and nestles in to sleep.
Meanwhile, back at the mead hall...
The group, singly, in pairs, and in small groups, departs from the mead hall at Valhalla, bound for the home of the smith to take what rest they can before the battles of the next day dawn. Along the way, Raven and Niklas talk about what sort of weapon the elf had in mind for teaching the woodsman to swordfight with. “It would be same size and shape as the blade you wield now, only heavier. Once you get used to swinging that around, your other sword will feel much lighter in comparison.”
Drax nods at the Valkyrie’s admission of being dissatisfied in her duties, as well as her warning about not wanting to spend eternity surrounded by drunken louts, I shall be guided by you in this, divine one. Be well.”
Shadow thanks Idun and Bragi for their offer, explaining that too many days are spent fighting and then asks about the name of the Valkyrie he was speaking with earlier but Idun feigns, badly, ignorance of the identity of the swordmaiden but her smile is enough to tells Shadow that the goddess knows EXACTLY who he is inquiring about. Bragi starts to answer but his wife delivers a mild elbow to his ribs and shakes her head, “More mystery, my love. Let him learn on his own.”
Before leaving, Grog slips away to the kitchen and finds a large kettle. He fills it with water and places it above a blazing fire. A soot-coated cook comes in while Grog is working and asks what the shaggy-haired spellcaster is up to only to become slightly pale as Grog shows off the enormous toe he chopped off of one of the slain Jotuns. The toe is soon boiling in the pot large above the blazing fire. Grog stirs the mix every so often and once all of the flesh and muscle and other tissues have come loose, he retrieves just the bones and dumps the remainder in the kitchen’s sluice pipes before wrapping the distal and middle phalange in a handy skin. He then packs the entire bundle into his pack and rejoins the others.
Arthur, having lost Korbin, flies back to the smith’s house and discovers the rest of the group preparing to turn in for the night. Desmond and Niklas have both availed themselves of Ygrid’s hospitality to arrange for baths and Shadow is pressing his clothes and polishing his boots in preparation of tomorrow’s efforts. Ra’ziir is busy copying spells from the scroll he claimed into his grimoires while Cedron tells everyone that the group will be spending the day with Idun in her orchard.
Kysek looks up, “I don’t know about this. If this Odin saw us as saviors of this realm, I’m not sure how we are going to do that from within an orchard inside the city.”
Eventually, the group turns in for the night. Raven, as always, has trouble entering the elven reverie and drifts off into actual sleep instead. His dreams are haunted by the today’s deaths of his companions – the ones he was able to reverse with the power of Dickory’s Bracers, an act that left several of its gemstones burned out.
Grotto, despite the previous night’s festivities, awakes the next morning feeling well-rested. The dwarf smiles as he rises and walks out into the courtyard and begins swinging his axe around through a series of warm-up exercises to get loose in preparation for the day. “Fresh apples picked off the tree sound like a great treat!” he calls out to his later rising companions.
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