Eshna worked rather well upon Lucky’s injuries, almost perfectly tending to the hand wounds with her supplies and gift. Lucky spoke up, voicing his question first, and the old woman responded, “I do not know what the God’s think the time-frame is, they do not often talk to or with me besides requisitions of dwarven made items such that you,” she stopped, correcting herself, “Most of you have gathered.” The helpful child spoke up next, about their first quest, “I don’t know that either. The prattling birds will be here shortly to tell you.”
Lastly, Jacob spoke, and the old woman was going to answer, until, suddenly, there was something at the door. The crone looked first as if to speak harsh things as the ravens, Hugin and Munin flew in, but she caught her tongue as she smiled, sweetly.
It was palpable, the feeling when he walked through the doors, so very real. Strong, and enduring, the very air around him seemed to pay homage, and the crass ravens flew more dignified. His presence was all encompassing, there was none in the room who could not afford him their attention. The raw power put the compulsions they had felt from the witch to shame, and yet it asked nothing of them.
Clad in white, and with locks of golden hair flowing down his handsome face, the God, Baldur, stood in the doorway, in but a fraction of his true glory. While his form could be described in words, there was something truly beyond words in every inch of his skin, clothed or not, and the charmed smile he wore fit him effortlessly. What they say about him, to know Baldur is to love Baldur, was becoming evident.
There was nothing the demigods held secret, that they wouldn’t be willing to share with him, just so he’d smile for them, and the reassuring feeling that he asked none of that of them washed over them as blissful relief. He was beauty, incarnate. Not sexual beauty that arouses the loins, but artistic beauty that sets the soul aflame.
“Brother, I am sorry, but my dear friend shop-keep won’t be able to give you a satisfying answer. Nor I.”
He bowed, low, and respectful to the gathered demigods, as the ravens found their own perches within the store. The door behind him closed, not in the forceful way as the crone made it, but almost as if it was politely doing what the God wanted without being asked.
“As for your mighty blade, it’s dwarven made, that I know, but the particulars I do not. The name, though, is what you wish for it. I know you’ll pick something wonderful.” He flashed his eyes, full all that is good and light in the world at Jacob.
The old woman, stammered, awestruck, before Baldur lifted out of the bow and smiled purely at her now. With a kindness and forwardness not yet shown with her encounters with the demigods, she spoke, “It’s good to see you, Baldur.” He simply shifted into a bit of a cocky grin, “I know, darling.”
“I didn’t know you were coming, if I did I would have cleaned,” he interrupted with a finger to his lips, “Shhh, it’s okay. You do not need to impress me. The children do.”
Hugin spoke at this, “Yes, the quest, the All Father wants them to-!” it spoke excitedly until Baldur turned and calmly shhhh’d it too. “I know it was your noble duty to deliver the message, but you and I know how bad things have gotten.” Hugin nodded, silently, and Munin rattled in a bit of a chuckle before going quiet and respectful as well.
Baldur called out to the demigods, by name, “Soraya Vidarsdottir, Gavriil Helson, Dann Ullerson, Jacob Freyrson, Jagred Tyrson, Eshna Freyasdottir, and my truest brother, Lucky Odinson, I am Baldur, and it is my pleasure to meet you all. I can only wish it was under tidings more fair. The All Father has cause to believe that Fimbulvetr, a herald of Ragnarok’s immediacy will begin within a month’s time.”
“We believe this, because the relic which will spur Fimbulvetr into action, the Heart of Winter either already is, or is about to be unearthed. Asgard and Jotunheim have been competing to find it for some time, and we believe they’ve learned the location.”
“The All Father has learned that increased Frost Giant attention in Bodie, California, has been coupled with Midgardian Dwarves vanishing in the area. This points to them at least thinking they are in the right location if they are enslaving Dwarves so brazenly after hundreds of years.”
Munin chimes in, “From here, the northern road will take you to Bodie, the Asgardians dare not go there themselves, for fear of what Fate will cause,” Hugin finishes, “But you are both competent, and able to go under Fate’s radar of doom, y’see?”
Baldur picked back up, “And so, all we ask, is that you go to Bodie, investigate the old mines, and kill or capture any Frost Giants that may be there. They are as cautious as we about being too open, and so there shouldn’t be any there too dangerous for you to handle. If they do have the Heart of Winter, they will not be so timid. If you manage to get the Heart of Winter for yourselves before they do,” he says, a bit optimistic and smiling again, “Then we may be able to postpone Ragnarok for quite some time, and your names will be celebrated by all.”
With the message given, Baldur bowed once more, lower this time, “I beg your leave, for while only my sword, Mistletoe, can harm me and set off even more of Ragnarok, I should be getting back to Asgard before unnecessary danger comes to this city as well. If you have any questions, you may direct them to my feathered friends. Good luck, brothers and sisters.” He turned and walked outside and was shortly gone from sight entirely, and the ravens began to look more mischievous as they had before, and the crone's discontent was quick to return as well. Her expression was immediately malicious towards the ravens. It was obvious that she didn't like them at all, and likely would be attacking them soon to get them out of her store. Everything about the store seemed less wonderful and good now that Baldur was gone.