POV: Varðir Adal and Aussa.
Date: Góa 21st, 798 AD. (Alt: 4th March, 799 AD.) Location: Götaland (Ancient Sweden.)
'Clear on my end. Any issues by yours, sister?' Adal forayed through their mind-link, which garnered a negative to her end that there has been no issue, all the same over the past day.
Their overwatch of Goldie and his motley of knowledge harbored little in the way of surprises against them or the golem himself. Their travel through the Jiellevárri (Gällivare) was empty, with there being no signs of habitation other than the Sámit who came for rare herbs or plants for their food and medicine.
"Buorre beaivi dutnje (Good day to you.)" They hear Goldie say with almost perfect fluency to a passerby who was walking down the mountain, who saw this 'man' that stood nearly 3x taller than her, covered in double coats of what appears to be bear hide. Just in that moment alone, the stranger thought she saw her life flash before her eyes before realising that the greeting was friendly, of all things! "Hello to you as well, stranger. Who may you be?" The coat that covered the passer's head showed that it was a woman with unkempt wheat-coloured hair, straight eyebrows, narrow eyes, thin lips and a strong, squared jawline.
"I am Goldie, son of Heath. I wish to ask your knowledge on this area, as I am a traveller from the south. Do you know the direction to Váhčirjávri (Vitåfors lake?)" While he may have kept his pelt cowl up, worried his features might scare her, his respectful demeanour helped show he was not a threat. Though, his use to the less common name confused her at first.
"Travel past and follow the gravel outcrop, you will find the flat lands with the hills on its left. Go around and travel in direction to the sight of Fávdna (Arcturus.) You will feel the cooling by Nállojávri (Naalojärvi (Naalo lake).)" She stared into the pitch-black shadow that had the slightest glint of light from Goldie's eyes. "And I am Áibmu, a forager. Will you require a guide?" Now known, her question was met with a Sápmi thanks by being provided with a shared gift of fruit cake he teleported in from below his fur mantle. "Yes, please."
They sat down to share, the flavour and scent showing it was made of a compounding multi-berry, sour apple and citrus, mixed into the bread that had then been mildly soaked in an apple brandy to keep it for longer. Its taste was exotic, alien even for Áibmu, who ate it delicately with her diet having never contained such a sweet-sour tanginess to it.
"A drink?" He took out more of the cans leftover, this time taking the bubble gum soda for himself and letting her choose the options. He twists off the cap on the bottle, holding his hood while watching her take the sweet apple version. There was an awkward quietness between them, both in that she felt apologetic for assuming his appearance was evil, and that there was little in the way of conversation they could do other than cross-questioning. She went against her anxiousness and tried to ask questions to the giant in front of her.
"What, are you?" The forager hoped it did not come off as rude, in that she never saw any person, or creature, of that matter that was as tall as him. "A construct, based on the human form, yet with a head like a tapir." He pulled off one of the leather gloves, showing his grey living-concrete skin.
He covered it back up again, but his explanation was met with a pulled look, as if trying to peer into his faceless visage, still covered in shadows. "May I?" Áibmu got up, walking up to him where his height, even when sitting, was taller than hers by multiple heads. She tiptoed onto his legs, slowly reaching and pulling back the cover as allowed by the unmoving Goldie. Now seeing his head in full daylight, she realised his appearance was, cute? If you could call a behemoth like he is that. "So that is a tapir.*Hm*" Her eyes wandered over his snout and ears, with him looking back at her with studiousness.
"You are braver than the last I met." His voice was quieter now, for the last traveller he met had seen him without it, and went the opposite direction as if he were a monster. "Was it a man with dark hair and a thin build?" She was nodded towards. "That is Eʹll, do not take it personally, he is a coward." She got off him, apologising before sitting back down.
"Your creator, Heeth-" "-Heath." He gently corrected Áibmu. "Heath, sorry, has other children like you?" Without her expecting it, a sudden family caricature with Heath, Skaði, Valyria, Sterling, himself and Rhoyna were side by side in pose after being magically moulded from the stone below the earth that had been brought up. "I assume all who are the same height as you are creations. With that man being him and the woman beside him, your mother." She looked around, hoping to find anything to use to draw into the earth or to use as a mould, yet she found nothing to do the same for him. The models were deconstructed soon after.
"It is fine." He waved it off, now getting ready to leave for the lake. "I have water for the walk." He takes out 2 runed water thermoses with an infinite potable water source within made of 316 steel, that would help them stay unfrozen in the cold.
She saw the sheen and richness of the metal, gandering more questions than answers. Steel as a material was only used for armour and weapons for all cultures, which is inaccessible to them and only seen by the most powerful down south, yet this example was used for something so mundane? Her hand clenched upon it, feeling its certainty and strength, realising that their wealth and his presence alone told her that they were men amongst bugs. "Is your creator a God?" She cruxed out, near-croaking out the words.
"He is." He takes a swig of the water, letting her ruminate on the fact that with everything provided: Hand-made giants, widely shared resources and food once unavailable to this area. . . They were unknown, yet methodically helpful, rather than fearmongers.
She chalked it up to another mark in her mind, that she could gain his help for an issue she and her people are facing. Nothing to be said about it, the same as the walk they were on, very few animals and little in terms of collectable resources. As there was also no danger, both Adal and Aussa came towards searching the local land to map an area they may come to visit again in the future, for greater ken, if the scrolls were to be believed. Passing said hill in record time, his stride was hard to catch up with for the much shorter woman, her having to jog at points.
"Sorry." Goldie would realise his mistake and slow down, her heavy breath playing against the cold air with misty puffs. 'We found the lake. Coordinates sent.' Aussa would mentally note through direct contact, redisappearing towards finding the underwater channels that led to the isolated body of water.
"I felt you had more thoughts to be spilt." The golem went along the path, acting nonchalant while following the same direction as had been gathered. "Do you have any medicine? The fánut (Angelica (Wild celeries)) have not grown this season, with our soahki (Birch) bark and báhkkečátná (Inonotus (Chaga)) reserves low." Áibmu described their predicament, earning a sympathetic nose raise before he teleported out a small satchel from his home using a newer magibiotechnology piece that he had sent over as a schematic for them to copy, with him still in Vanaheimr doing who-knows-what.
"In this satchel is a medicine bag that contains 50 pellets. Eating just a single tablet will cure any of their ailments, and even help accelerate their healing. But, it cannot grow back lost limbs." He passed the carry case to her, its belt then connected onto her waist and below her draped-over cape, kept protected from the elements as if it were her own child.
He appeared to grab a visibly sick hare with mixomatosis that was in a burrow on the hillside, immobilising it with a gentle grip. "Take a pellet out." He waits for her to do so, then deals with it by quickly placing it in the hare's mouth, which then chewed down the tablet and swallows it in a hurried rush. In just a few fearful "*Squeaks*" the rabbit turned comatose, with both its previous injuries and sickness fading in real time, even its smell appeared to lessen as the body successfully fought off the infection.
"That was another point, you will fall asleep when taking it." He waits until the injury and sickness both appear to be gone, showing the aftereffects to Áibmu before putting the now-found male back to its original nesting spot.
A new tablet was given, restocked to 50. "I can feel the lake nearby, you may split. And another thing, there is a map in the bag." She takes it out just a moment after, seeing a dot that followed the map's geolocation that represented where she was. "That below is where my father set a public embassy outside of our borders." He walks upon the untrodden grass prairie and up to the sound of populated static water, containing many lizards, frogs and fish that have centuries of history. He scans the waters for the signs of this entrance of sorts, but he feels the same woman watching him from the background.
He stares back towards Áibmu, who returns that look with a side turn of her head and a point towards the furthest part of the chained lake, where E'll could be seen again. He was knee-deep hunting for fish, using his spear to skewer any that are catchable onto a leather flap, to then be tied up into a sack to be taken home.
Goldie nods to her to talk to him instead, to describe the situation and for him to understand that the giant 'monster' was not there to hurt him and has given them a gift to help their predicament. He enters the trǫllkonur (Troll women)'s domain near, the morraine creg consolidating a hidden entrance through a shadowed outcrop of regolith that led to a subterranea. 'Adal, Aussa.' Goldie called them with the experience of a general guiding his agents through a previous plan. *'On it.'* Both would state after closing the baserock back up again.
It had no light down there, only the sound of craggy outcrops and the built-up smell of pogenic emissions: Carbon monoxide and dioxide, Hydrogen sulphide, Nitrogen dioxide, Sulphur and Methane. Entirely unlivable in such conditions except for the extremophiles or those who need not breathe to live.
As a golem, he followed down with his Divine sight, applying the soul signatures of those deep below. A quarter of the way from the crust, he came across a cavernous, oblong room with a primitive archway with graphic imagery that depicted many scenes involving their people from their individual creationist myth by Ymir's aspect known as Bláinn, lastly showing their sequestering to cast revenge upon Óðinn, Vili and Vé for the murder of their mutual ancestor. The naked, hair-covered guards-women at the front of the door spotted the man who was much larger than themselves, preparing their magic to cast him down to Helheimr.
"Heill þú, Æsirbanr. (I greet thee, Æsir's bane.)" The golem respectfully polled them as their referenced title, for their many battles against the armies of that specific Pantheon are as common as the waves in the lake above. "I, Goldie, son of Heath Dollen, have brought meat and mead!"
He placed it upon the floor, and matching his father's tactic, he slid it across to them, upon the plate it was slid across with, there was a droplet of magic, condensed to a blood-like form for them to test as required. "Who do I battle, to enter?" He would show his understanding of their warrior culture, that if an outsider proved they were a capable fighter, they are allowed entry. The dual guards that look to be sister twins would stare down towards the food offering, then back up to the colossus in front of them.
Turning sideways and letting another through, it was their combat-tester, who the texts would call Ásmýgir, the God-crusher. 'Let us see if your title runs true.' He would take off his leather coverings and his armour below, where a gladiatorial gymnos style preparation began!
"Do I resize for our match?" Goldie saw Áshǫggr appear confused at first, so to show his abilities, he lifted his open hand and visually decreased its size to that of the average Mennskr (Norse humans) before turning back to normal. She realised his honesty in that it could be made more equal, but in believing it is useless from her own confidence, or arrogance, she mouthed the word 'no' before lunging at him! Her speed was invisible to an unaugmented eye, yet for a minor Deity like himself. . . You can imagine how it went.
"*GrAᴬh!*" Ásmýgir's annoyance was most sounded after his tactic of using his height to grab her arm during a punch and lifting her off the ground with leverage. She tried punching, flipping or kicking out of that sweep, but to no avail.
Flicking her like a whip back towards the gate, she slid across the ground and towards those who were watching in a starfish position. Lying there on her back, the trio wondered where it had gone wrong with their 'champion' having decades of battle experience, just to be trounced on by a few well-placed grapples. Now with a stone rash across her back and behind, Áshǫggr rubs where she felt most sore before getting back up again with humiliation after a sudden pleasing sensation ran across her body, realising that it was Goldie using his magic to heal her of her scrapes.
"The meat." He would state before re-cooking it near-instantaneously. "Have some. I see the battle took much out of you." He would state during a sit-down upon the smooth stone floor, taking out his thermos to drink more water. Well, he would have if not for her trying to slap it out of his hand.
Unsuccessful, yet enough to make Goldie twitch his trunk, he flicked a finger-focused magic push into her torso, launching her back again and this time *Donking* her head against the wall. He drank a bit of water, walked up and saw her grimace in pain. He would heal her again with a mental wave, and to show camaraderie, he offered her a trusting hand as a pickup. This time, she accepted his offer, yet the dust and grime of her being settled into the dirt, covering her bare body in a layer of sweat-damp grime.
He sat down again, but from what he could see, the original guards had eaten over half of the entire meat slab already. The stare of disappointment by Áshǫggr was palpable, with the duo, now known as Katla and Hildr, were given a handful of tasks for later.
The rest of the meat was taken as the fighter's share of what was meant to be 50%, and all were given their respective shares of alcohol. 'Goldie will be safe, let us return home.' Adal would scry in the belief that their might is more than enough to deal with whatever threats without them, which, if not, they would easily teleport back in after memorising the layout of the connective chambers. Both him and his sister return to the (forest farm) with a few additional herbs and farmables in arms, next communicating with their father for support.
"Kids, I do believe you can finish this without me." Rod would wobble his leafy beard with mirth from the way his children ask how to set up the grid system within the farm. Yet he could tell there were some concerns with this being new territory, so he spelt it out for them.
"Plant those in after orienting them by order, direct one of the ascended towards magically altering the features to have greater size and flavour, then use the accelerant effects that seeps into the rain and soil towards filling it in per generation until ready." Now, saying it like that made it seem easy, though there appeared to still be some lukewarm enthusiasm towards doing this task. "I made both of you to be wise. You -" Both a compliment and a dig at their seeming character break, he asks them to come over, giving them each a pat on the shoulder.
Rod would smack their backs towards the general direction of the farms. "-know what? Go get them! Shoo!" The tree would play with the sound of his leaves rustling while forcing them away, making them smile slightly before leaving.
"Getting the feel of being a dad, I think." Rod would self-comment, next basking under the false sun for greater warmth. Adal and Aussa were quick with little to no austerity. There was help from the golems in shuffling the other parts of the farm, and everything was ordered by type and the Norse runic alphabetical system. As soon as they were done, a manual spritz of the rain was set upon the patch it is built within to settle the soil around the newly gardened plants. It was complete! (The extra herbs are Chamomile, Fireweed and Siberian Ginseng.)
POV: Heath Dollen.
Date: Góa 22nd, 798 AD. (Alt: 5th March, 799 AD.) Location: Götaland (Ancient Sweden.)
Heath was acting asleep upon Skaði's new bed, made of similar materials to the original. He has had a busy few days renovating the Vanaheimr compound, working together with the Vanir Pantheon, renegeing as a middleman.
'-to create this greater technology, working with the 'cordical stack' mockup I had made beforehand, I could further develop what I had seen of another with the flight suit, to design it as a neural-linked, bio-integrated connection point straight to the brain. Maybe do a-'
*KRR-SSHHAAWW* A sudden fissuring of reality rang out from beyond his dream space that shook his soul into awakening. Seeing the room around him, he found it was. . .
"Hœnir? Is everything alright?" Heath asked him directly, who nodded after giving a sly eye-turn before resuming what he wished to conote, and after a few days of spending time with them, he has gotten the hang of reading between the way he manipulates reality around him as its own form of language. "People are waiting for me outside? Thank you for telling me." From that thanks, Hœnir warps out in a cloud of dissipating feathers.
There, he meets a woman with sockets hidden behind a thin-veiled cloth, missing as how Óðinn's own had been made in sacrifice to gain unparalleled knowledge, from the realisation that this word would put such emphasis on 'sacrifice for power,' he realised who this might be.
"A vǫlva (Seeress / Staff-bearer.)" He would stand in his usual spot within the Iðavǫllr council, next bowing towards her with respect in feeling her soul and power. "I greet Gróa of the Albruna line, may you-." She would pause him by raising his hand. 'Why is this such a common way to cut me off?' Heath would hide his temptation to continue the greeting and stood straight in his new God form. "You have proven yourself to not be inferior, it is of no rudeness to you." Baduhenna would cover it, somehow sensing his internal discrepancy.
"Thought I hid it well." Heath would toll them with a blink, which they paid no mind to with some smirking. "I have come in wondering who this Ørlǫgbrjótr (Fate breaker) was, and it appears you are much more than what meets the eye, outsider." She would get closer to him, scanning his soul with a sudden lean-in.
"I had such talks with the Nornir, know this is common with the Dísir (Fate Goddesses) too." He would give as a way to break the tension, which instead led to the opposite reaction from her as she continued testing his reactions. "Are Hrungnir's stones underneath Þórr's hair and lodged into his scalp, hidden? I did not see them in my prophecies." He asked in hoping to realise that her as a character existing in Twilight of the Gods must mean that the story involving them must be true as well. "Yes." Gróa would assuage him by giving a simple answer.
"Knew it." Heath would nod while waiting for this inspection to end. Which took little time but felt like forever for the great Scientist God. By the time they were done, Skaði appeared with eyes of cold calculation against Gróa. Whose posture told that she was angered at the assumed ogling of her man.
Gróa, being the rather wise, yet emotionally unavailable character that she is, ignored those signs and jotted all she could find into her mental library before talking about some of the findings to the council. About the applicability of Heath's unique circumstances as a mortal-turned-God, in how they could apply it to their most loyal or with the greatest potential, like how Heath had made so with the 75 ascendants. 'Next time, if a woman does that to you, know that I will not tolerate it.'
The great Huntress would stare at the back of the Seeress's head, almost burning sockets into her skull. But to the possessive Goddess that she is, Heath instead kisses her on the cheek and blocks her view, staring into her eyes. Showing that he would, in no way, break her trust. It spoke nothing, yet told everything, with Skaði cooling off quickly.
'I am yours, and you are mine. Know that our promise will never break.' His words spoke into reality, highlighting the chain that binds their souls together with further cementation. It was comforting for the great Huntress, who felt ready to jump his bones then and there. "*Ahem!*" Iði would cough in the background for these lovers' dreaming to end, which led to a burst of cold air to rush past him in hoping to frost him over, which he promptly ignored. "Konungr Tiwaz hopes to speak with you." The low-God would stare into Skaði's eyes, a hidden challenge.
"Yes, I see." Heath agrees to their suggestion in the background on the way to ascend their mortal followers, with them suggesting a trade for how Heath had done so with his 75. They were planning on giving many of their magical and technological secrets that had been stored in their deepest vault below Sessrúmnir, the Vanir's ship-hulled hall.
The thorned king snaps his bark-coated fingers, using the newly learned warp magic towards bring himself and Heath into the vault itself that is lined with God-killing iron. Through the newly installed vaulted door made using the newest technology, they enter the chambers and see the many relics and powerful artefacts left over and used only in rare circumstances, weapons, armours, scrolls and magic focis each lining the many pedestals and wall-hangers in sequence from least to most powerful.
"You may take any 5.*Pause*Correction, 6." Tiwaz would lead him through to the end, where the best items were kept. Of the dozens that are there, each with unique abilities, Heath continuously leaned towards the protective / utilities side by the left of the corridor.
"I have quite a bit to choose then." The great scientist God's murmuring could be heard by none other but the God-king himself, who simply smiles wholesomely with his woody lips creaking.