Tobias took his first, feeble steps upon the promised land. His bloodline left him naturally impervious to frost. He was born to be here. He could feel it in his bones. He was not sure how this would all help his government's mission; perhaps they could salvage some Asgardian technology or something. Maybe none of it mattered anymore. He felt like he had a new purpose now. Morphing back into a walrus, he opened his jaws agape and began heaving forth an object from deep within his bowels. He had been concealing this treasure the entire time, and had been the real reason for him being sick. Finally a glorious battleaxe protruded from his gaping maw. It had nothing on Mjolnir, but it was a highly ornate and deadly efficient. The pride and secret weapon of his ancient house. It was called.... Pelsdraebe! He held it before him, looking as mighty and magnificent as the Allfather himself. He had originally planned to use it on that vile snake-boy, but he now sensed a much more monstrous presence had corrupted the land of the gods. He needed to kill it. "I am ready, weasel. Let us go forth and confront this terror, for the glory of Midgard!" He heard the diabolical click of Weston's fabled pistols being cocked beside him.