12785/Resonants: Niflheim, Pt 1

Resonants: Niflheim, Pt 1
Date of Scene:	24 September 2022
Location:	Niffleheim - Asgard
Synopsis:	Something is not right in Helheim. Asgard gets more than it bargained for as the brave seekers of a final treasure head for the heart of darkness. PS - Malekith sends his bitterest regards.
Cast of Characters:	Thor, Jane Foster, Steve Rogers, Thea Queen, Zatanna Zatara, Sif, Stephen Strange
Tinyplot:	Resonants

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Thor has posed:
    The last expedition had been some time in coming. The earlier ones had their focus, there had been some trepidation. But this one... the journey to Niflheim. It was the one that weighed heaviest in some ways. For it was the one amongst them all that they had the least information about.
    For Niflheim was a land of mystery and danger that Asgardians were wary of. The land of the dead. The goddess Hela. And then the recent events that had caused such a tumult.
    It is no wonder that the heroes approached this with reservation.
    For when they were gathered at the Asgardian Embassy in the courtyard the atmosphere was stern and severe. The people were subdued as the warriors were making themselves ready. Helda had worked her magic preparing equipment and supplies for the journey and Thor? Thor was fully armored in that black and crimson he favors of late, metal armor layers covering a gleaming ebony chain with Mjolnir at his side. He looked much as the other Asgardians seemed to feel. Stern.
    As they made themselves ready for the last moments before the summoning of the Bifrost he looked around at the gathered worthies. Then nodded once. "Be ready, my friends. For we know not what we shall face. But." He smiles slightly, "Take comfort in that it knows not what it will face either. And we are formidable."
    That said the clouds above started to part.

Jane Foster has posed:
Shores of the River Gjoll...

Niflheim has few visitors to its shores, living or dead. One skald in a hundred might know a song or ode other than talking of cold to reach their bones, choking mists, and miserable clammy moisture that saps warmth and hope from the living lands above. They might speak of restless spirits that prey on travellers, snarling beasts that stalk the barren wastes between poisonous rivers that sluggishly flow past, and whole entombed armies awaiting their final summons in the icy marshes. Fun times.

Alas, Niflheim provides a terrible welcome wagon for the Asgardian expedition. Jane is bundled up in black and blue, a coat and mittens to go with her usual backpack. She's uncommonly quiet, perhaps even thoughtful, and not precisely excited when the dimension-spanning magical current deposits her there. Her pallor is snow-white, her eyes pale and shadowed as she strives to see anything. "Well. Welcome to Niflheim, where you ought to eat nothing and watch where you step. Metal is more valuable than almost anything else, so be mindful if you trade."

Everlasting fog reduces visibility to near nil, something not even the Bifrost's furious light can quell. Rainy Britain looks like the Sahara Desert or a Tahitian beach next to their landing spot alongside a miserable river.

Hypercolour shots of red, sapphire, and green glance dully off icebergs choking the broad River Gjoll. Weird creaking moans announce the visitors from Asgard, Midgard, and other realms beyond. Spontaneous cracks and liquid gurgles emanate seemingly from behind, beside, above. That they bear similarities at all to dying men on the battlefield, a surgeon's cuts in the OR, or the split of bone is purely the work of an overactive imagination.

When the rainbows die away, they will find themselves several hundred meters from the only feature worth noting for leagues -- really, at all. With nothing else to see, it's hard to miss an intricate honeycomb roof of solid gold that emerges among the ghostly grey eddies. Icicles drip from bright metal untarnished by Niflheim's persistent gloom. The golden-capped bridge could match anything in New York, its ends disappearing into the mist. An obvious path across, or there's always the Gjoll itself. Totally just a nice, frozen river.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Captain America is in his standard uniform, though one that was more intended for the temperatures they were likely to encounter her. His shield hangs upon his back. After arriving, he takes a moment to remove his mask and helm, ruffling fingers through his hair briefly as he looks back at the sky along the path that the Bifrost had landed them.

A little shake of his head isn't given any verbal commentary, though his expression might best be summed up by, "Would you believe that." Sometimes it isn't the technological that takes Steve Rogers the most to adapt to.

Donning his helm again, he looks about the misty landscape. "Do we have a specific destination? Or is there something guiding us to what we seek?" he inquires of Thor as he moves to stand beside the Asgardian.

Thea Queen has posed:
"We are really going in ..." Thea is standing next to Sif when they are getting to go in, the weight of the moment sort of heavy on the young woman's shoulders. For her first encounter with all the madness that was Asgard had happened exactly when Hela had manifested a couple of years ago at a certain party in Sweden and .., well.., the rest was history.

"We are really, really sure we need an item from here?" Thea truly doesn't feel this is a good idea, but she is here to help so she came bundled up in her usual black and red armor, the hood up even if she doesn't bother with the domino mask. The quiver with arrows is on, along with the bow and after a deep breath she closes her eyes to ...

Get out on a new land. Or in this casa a dead land. "Remind me when we get out of here that I actually have something to talk to you ..., about Trollheim." IF they get out of here alive!

Hold up, that's Captain America. Clearly not the best of times and places to ask for an autograph so she can make Ollie jealous. Ah well ....

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
The magician is silent with her thoughts. Their last expedition into the ice and cold was a lesson learned in cold and endurance, but this journey looms darkly in Zatanna's mind. She sojourned briefly in Hades, it still troubles her sleep. And yet, Persephone showed the mage favor and helped her through dire circumstance. The land is as Thor said a mystery that only the brave or, she says wryly to herself, the foolish would attempt.

Zatanna is dressed in clothing suitable for extreme cold, black from head to toe with sturdy cleated boots to brave the ice. A pack slung over one shoulder carries water and dried food provided by Helda.

The glory of the Bifrost drops them into a wasteland of cold. "Will you look at that?" she exclaims in a puff of vapored breath, head turned up to gape at the bridge.

Sif has posed:
Upon their arrival, Sif took a moment to check their surroundings. She was fully armored. Her usual red, silver and white. It was an unusual color palate for armor but it worked for her. She had the cloak on as well, with the fur at the shoulders. The bag of supplies was slung over her shoulder and pushed back a bit so as not to interfere with her weapons. Sword on the left, a dagger to the right on her belt. Food and water supplied in the bag by Helda.

"If?" She glanced over to Thea, giving her an encouraging smile. "Of course we will survive. With one as formidable as you at my back, there is no doubt." For she had learned respect for this Midgardian in their many adventures. It was the same for Jane, Zatanna, and others. Captain America was a new element to their quests but his reputation preceded him and he was a welcome addition.

Thor has posed:
    "In this case, good captain, you may know nearly as much as we do." That is said with a steady firmness of tone as Thor casts his gaze about their surroundings. Then he gives a nod in the direction of the bridge, "In the past I would say that Hela sees all, and knows what passes in her realm. Now?"
    That having been said he starts toward the bridge, boots crunching on the ground as he walks. One hand lifts to draw his half-cloak into place as some guard against the chill. Sidelong he glances at Thea as she mentions Trollheim which causes his brow to rise. "Of course. I shall do so."
    Onward then, toward that bridge. Yet he does keep his head on a swivel, aware, alert. The tension in the man is a rare thing to see, yet well earned by those that call this land home.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Ah," Steve says when Thor reveals that the super soldier already knows as much about the plan as there is to know. "Bucky had a term for such missions," he muses quietly to himself. Though he refrains from sharing the phrase involved, especially in mixed company.

Captain America's head turns, constantly scanning their surroundings as he starts forward. Towards Thea, he says, "Thor Odinson has yet to steer me wrong. At least on anything that didn't deal with the proof of Asgardian beverages. I'm sure we'll make it back," he tells her with a reassuring nod.

Lady Sif is given a tip of Steve's head. Though not having interacted with her directly, his time among the Asgardian court has at least given him a passing familiarity with her place there.

"If you're taken by the view, Miss Zatara, then I suppose it's alright for the rest of us to be sharing a bit of wonderment," he says to the well-experienced mage.

Jane Foster has posed:
Jane pulls her hood lower, artificial fur a thick rime across her brow. No amount of Canada goose technology will spare mortal flesh from shivering, likely. Shouldering her bag more firmly, she pulls the strap to free up her arms. A curious look shot at Thea for mention of Trollheim warrants follow-up. "That does sound exciting. Probably more welcoming than here." Muffled chuckles fall a bit flat in the cold, unwelcome mists. Her toe scuffs at the icy waste of the ground, testing for relatively solidity. The slope leads down to the river. "Don't be deceived by how gentle the slope looks. I reckon any of us slipping would lead to a nasty fall into the water. Looks like a dropoff."

She shuffles rather than boldly strides, byproduct of experience falling on Arctic soil and lunar cliffs. Nothing quite like an accident on a Greenland ice cap to reinforce a penguin's way of walking. "What I gleaned from the library, the only road goes straight to Helheim. But, much like Boromir warned, one does not simply walk into Helheim." Her smile is grim. It doesn't reach those faded charcoal pupils, but she salutes Steve's positive spirit and Sif all the same. "We have to /reach/ the road, which means first surviving the Gjoll."

The river's cracking and groaning sounds a good deal like a hyena tearing into its prey, possibly still living, chewing bones and sucking marrow. What a backdrop. "I very much regret to say that's a task in and of itself. You're alive. You have a toll to pay."

Thea Queen has posed:
Fingers reach behind her to brush almost unconsciously over the feathers of her arrows, over two in specific, differing from the rest. Thea does smile distractedly up at Sif's words of reassurance, some warmth in her smile but the more Thea is here the more other memories start returning. She does nod towards Captain America though, "I know. I just .., don't like this place at all. But then again, who does?"

Hand returns to the front and she finally gets her bow ready, stringing it and walking with it prepared.. Just in case something comes a-calling. Like a ghost. She looks around again, wearily.

Sure steps and steady walk. That seems to be the name of the game as Thea continues along with the group, attentive.

"The Gjoll?" She imagines it's the river, then sighs. "Always a price to pay in these places."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Thor's wariness does nothing to calm Zatanna's foreboding. She glances down at her feet, expecting the ground to split like thin spring ice, still, the snow crunches solidly under her boots. Jane quoting the Boromir breaks her solemnity and she smiles briefly.

Zatanna nods agreement to Cap and raises a thumb, "He has never let us down, and we have all lived to tell some strange tales."

Addressing Sif, "What kind of greeting can we expect from Hela?"

Sif has posed:
"Was there any luck in actually researching a potential item? Or are we simply questing blind?" Sif asked, glancing over at the people who were best known for their smarts instead of their swordskills. Which really, could be pretty much anyone there. Not that she was unintelligent but start digging in books for data and she tuned out. That was for scholars.

She looked to the bridge and found herself glancing away sharply at those sounds. She had heard such things first hand on battlefields through her lifetime. She brought her left hand to rest on her sword handle then looked to Zatanna's question. "Much as one can expect from Loki--the unexpected. At times she can be reasonable. Others..." She gives a half shrug and an apologetic look to the other woman. "It is best to be wary of all things in this place. Tis a shame our venture did not take us to Valhalla." Which was part of this world, believe it or not. Only, they obviously were not there.

Thor has posed:
    It is toward the bridge that Thor walks, his step even and stride measured. A slight smile is given sidelong toward Steve at the positive words granted him by the old soldier, then he nods and continues on. He glances toward Jane and nods, "If there is a toll to be paid..."
    He lets those words drift off on the wind, lifting his eyes to the horizon and espying little before he murmurs sidelong toward Sif, "What could be gathered was little, Sif. There is... not as much traffic between Midgard and this realm. Though for the ritual to be as strong as is needed..."
    Again he lets those words trail off. His brow knits, expression distant as he considers. Then he continues as he glances the other way, "Watch your step."

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve's boots trod quietly upon the bridge as he walks at what could be called a relaxed alertness. Ready to move, but not actually tense.

Though something he notices seems to slow his step, and he turns towards the side of a bridge. Steve's head tilts to the side a little as someone trying to hear better.

"Sounds like there might be someone in the water," he comments, pointing to where he thinks he sees something lifting above the water's surface. An arm, to his eyes.

While his instinct is to go and help the person, he turns to look at those who know more about this Realm before heading that way. Though pausing even that long against his instincts furrows his brow.

Jane Foster has posed:
The mists swirl and swallow up even Thor, unless others follow him. Distances longer than arm's reach eat up a person to a mere wraith on the landscape, especially with the abundance of black and grey among chosen attire. Sif's bloody armour and chosen vermillion hues stick out a little more. Jane slips on ahead, choosing her steps quickly to avoid being left behind, her bag bumping softly against her hip and making almost no sound.

"The beating heart of Niflheim isn't found out there," she says, reduced to a grating murmur. "The importance, I fear, is probably Helheim. Odin set the realm apart for its queen, so there will our target most likely be." She shakes her head. "Anything else in the mists might be insufficient. Doctor, Ms. Zatara? Is there enough resonance to bind the ice here to Midgard? A vial of water?" Questions raised with a hint of hope, guttering in the cold though it may be.

Ahead lies the bridge, its make similar to Asgardian but more geometric, angular, and vast. The Gjallarbru is not small. It can take a full unit marching shoulder to shoulder. Braziers through weak light, largely white, beneath the gold-thatched roof that otherwise swims in shadow. Thor's approach produces an odd creak, distant, from further back on the bridge. Maybe it's not built well or the venomous river below is noisy.

Thea Queen has posed:
The question on whether they are questing blind from Sif has Thea immediately look at Zatanna. Look, everyone knows who the mage is here. And that usually also means books. Go stereotypes, go! But then the little archer that could speaks quietly while still looking at Zee.

"Over the bridge, past the lattice. I spotted a shadow of a .., person. Rather big, lots of hair and a very impressive tattoo, but couldn't recognize what kind.." she's not Asgardian after all!

She offers all that info rather casually, trying to not give away that she saw someone, "We are clearly being watched now.." then a look to Steve before looking to the water as well after.

An arm. Great. No way Thea is getting close. But then that odd creak gets her into alert. Is the kind of creak she has been trained to hear, drilled into her mind ever since she picked up a bow. Someone is about to shoot. "Take cover, someone is readying a bow on us.." and yep, she takes cover behind Cap. Look, he has a shield!

Stephen Strange has posed:
The last time that a certain sorcerer was in the lands of the dead, it was non-voluntary...and via a method that is considerably less comfortable than a tall man shoved in a subcompact car. This time around, Stephen Strange is considerably more comfortable. A must more pleasant experience taking the multi-coloured Bifrost that Thor brought down than the monochromatic version that Stephen had the displeasure to experience. Yet, for the most of journey so far, Strange has been, to pardon the pun, strangely silent.

Not that he wasn't paying attention. Everyone else seemed to be dressed for the colder climate. Not Stephen. He seems to be just fine...if not distant. Those sharp eyes peer out, taking in the environs. Poisoned river. Check. Well...maybe not the river, but most definitely a presence beyond. Poisoned and foul. Hard to pinpoint..but it is there. Oh. And there is the matter of that arm. That's a sure sign of nothing good. And a bow taking aim?

Yeah, seems about on par for a typical walk through the underworld. Whichever version of that one wanted.

"Well, I see that this is going to be interesting..."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Dare she voice her thoughts? Zatanna can see little value in connecting this realm tainted by Hela's darkness to Midgard. Like Sif, she would have preferred the connection to be directly to Valhalla.

With a glance at Sif, she wonders if she knows how much power Hela lost when she gambled all in a bid for power and was nearly devoured by Demogorge. She lingers near Thea and Sif trudging toward the creaking golden bridge.

Zatanna dares to look off the side of the bridge, the mists swirling apart long enough to reveal an arm, then closing to hide the hand in its last reach to escape death.

Jane's question is answered with a head shake. "An ice floe more like. Though certainly water could connect the realms."

The words are barely out of her mouth when Thea's warning comes. She ducks, and crouching peers toward the bank of the river, searching for the giant lost in the mists that Thea saw.

Sif has posed:
As the group started off, Sif automatically fell into place at the rear of the group, covering them in that manner. Mention of arms and such has her glancing around a bit more even as she keeps her hand on the weapon at her side. "If the mist gets too bad, we may need to use a rope to be sure we remain together." She doesn't suggest a light. Although, why she doesn't she has no idea. It just didn't feel right to have one and potential draw attention.

Or maybe that was all the creepy noises feeding her paranoia.

At the warning from Thea, she immediately draws the shield from her back and brings it into place. Cap isn't the only one who thought of a shield when packing. Course, she can't throw hers around like a frisbee either but it is generally effective at blocking stabby, pointy things.

She immediately shifts her position to be ready to help protect others who may or may not have their own shields. Even as she draws her sword with her right hand.

Thor has posed:
    "That would likely be Modgud, Thea Queen." Thor offers as he pauses on the bridge. He stops to make sure all are within view before he continues, "She guards the bridge and may be the one that ask of us the toll. We shall perhaps learn as we can from her."
    Though it is the mention by Steve of an arm in the river which has his brow furrowing. He steps further onto the bridge, that creak being heard. Yet it's Thea's reaction that snaps him into action.
    Abruptly Mjolnir is in his hand with a sharp /whom/ of sound then it blurs into a spin as he steps forward, trying to interpose himself as he can. Over his shoulder he shouts, "Sif!"

Steve Rogers has posed:
At the mention of someone covering them with a bow, Captain America has his shield off his back and onto his arm on the moment's notice. He holds it at the ready, and moving to be able to protect Thea and any others behind him. Though she'll also find she has room to use her bow around him. It isn't the same as having the Howling Commando's shooting while he covers them, but the same principles apply.

Cap's eyes search the mist, going back frequently to that arm to see if the person is struggling, and also gauge how far out from the bridge they are. "If we can negotiate it would probably be for the best," he says, but just offering the comment as this is not exactly his neighborhood.

Jane Foster has posed:
"I'm open to any suggestions. Something near at hand to refocus your efforts on establishing the ritual. I defer to your expertise." Zatanna punctures Jane's balloon and she accepts the matter with gallows humour to match the place. She gets her bearings on the bridge, tracking ice and snow across the smooth, stout boards. A few steps pushes her to the front of the group, following in Thor's wake no longer when he opts to call the hammer and abruptly move hard to the side and guard Thea. Arms rise in a defensive position, for all the good that really does her. "We seek passage!"

The shadowy creak comes from a bow nearly as big as Cap is. Metal has the same cold sheen as the River Gjall, a bone-white arrow held in blue hands. Mostly blue. The rest of the archer's skin is hard to spot, her dark clothes helping to blend in. A cowl thrown back reveals fat white braids, a ritually tattooed face. Modgud is tall, taller than Thor and just as solidly built as the bridge or any Aesir. She takes casual aim at the Crown Prince, adjusting and holding perfectly still. Content to wait, and not shoot.

She doesn't call out a warning or a challenge. She grins, all sharp teeth and mirthless wit. "That your offering?"

Thea Queen has posed:
"That's not a bow ..., that's a freakin' ballista." Thea murmurs from the 'safe' spot behind Cap. She does draw an arrow and keeps it sort of loose in her bow but is otherwise deferring to the more knowledgeable ones about these kind of affairs here. Fight or Flight? Or negotiation. Whatever they choose she will be offering her backup to it!

"What -are- the usual offerings made in these..?" she quietly inquires the surrounding people around her.

Stephen Strange has posed:
Strange casts a glance over towards Thea. "The usual offerings? You do not wish to know that answer, Ms Queen."

Ominous much? And vague, too. The standard wizarding one-two punch. And no explanation, too. The perfect trifecta.

Still....Strange doesn't seem all that concerned with a ballista trained upon them. He does, however, casually reaches into a pocket, extracting a golden object from within, then places it upon his fingers. Standard issue sling ring, for those in the know. His way of getting ready.

The attention shifts, for a moment, to the river itself. And to the arm sticking out of the ice. "there is more under the ice. Much more. I recommend avoiding the shoreline if at all possible."

Oh...stating the obvious. It seems Strange is batting a thousand when it comes to sorcerer cliches.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
To the group immediately near her, Zatanna murmurs. "So, the old tales of paying tribute to the troll at the bridge are true! And nobody is carrying a whole cow to feed it," she quips darkly.

Keeping her voice low, she asks, "Any ideas on what would be appropriate? I have a vague recollection of fruit...an apple...being given as tribute because they don't grow here." After a moment of reflection, "Think I'll wait on that."

Warily, Zatanna stands and unslings the pack over her shoulder and begins to rummage through it, muttering, "I know it's in here somewhere."

Sif has posed:
And with that, they fell into old habits. Combat fought at one another's sides for longer than the others in the group have been alive. Far longer. Centuries of tactics and working together, knowing the movements of one's ally so that it almost like a choreographed dance on a battlefield.

The two Asgardians took point, her shield and his hammer providing shielding for those behind them. Only she saw where that arrow was aimed and that had Sif gritting her teeth. She took a step forward, prepared to intercept if that arrow was loosed.

Modgud was an impressive figure. Considering she was holding that bow pulled taut and seemed to be able to stay for hours if she so choose. That was the thing many didn't recognize about archers: The sheer strength involved to hold such a position. Media in Midgard did not do justice to the burn that would develop in shoulders after a short time holding a bow ready to fire. Yet Modgud was solid as stone.

Sif began to slowly move forward but was prepared to protect the Prince. And everyone else for that matter but Thor seemed to be the target at this point.

She did not join the discussion about tribute though she wasn't rushing in to attack either.

Thor has posed:
    The hammer whirls, presenting a flickering after-image of itself through which Thor looks upon the distant giant. A chuffing exhalation of breath might be heard by those nearest, something akin to a laugh. His eyes tighten then he calls back in that roaring battlefield voice he uses at times.
    "No, I'm afraid we need her!"
    He slows Mjolnir slightly, turning his hips just enough to present a less combative stance as he calls out, "Unbend your bow Modgud, and we shall approach to share what words we can before we decide on passage!"
    And should she seem amenable. Well then he'll approach.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve Rogers glances back at the wizards for guidance on the price of passage. A moment is spent in thought and then he is digging beneath the neckline of his Captain America costume. He pulls out a small chain, giving it a firm tug and breaking free his dog tags.

They aren't the ones he wore in World War II, but ones he's used in more recent encounters. Still, they are a personal thing to him, and Captain America holds them by the chain as an obvious offering to Modgud. "Will this buy passage, Ma'am?" he asks her. His shield is lowered a bit, though he's still shielding the others behind him at least with his body.

Jane Foster has posed:
Modgud keeps grinning, the full draw on the bow not so much as shaking her arm. Her broad braids hang still, gold rings glinting, a Rapunzel for anyone falling into the Gjoll. "Troll? Now you offer insult." She breathes deep, a little, and the serrated grind of her teeth grows mildly louder after Zatanna's quips are made.

The white arrow does not stray an inch or an ounce. Steve moves under that iron regard, the stark blue tattoos imprinted in jagged storms across her face shifted to the pull of muscles underneath. "I will trade words," she says, slowly easing the great wired web that couldn't belong to a sinew any smaller than a spaceshark. Space sharks don't do sinews much either. The projectile slides lower, pointing at the ground, the great recurve softening its ruthless bend. She arches an eyebrow questioningly at Sif, then turns to Thor. "The bounty on you is good! You come to cash him in, Huntress?" For the rough threat, her throaty laugh bubbles quite loud. "We have four problems to settle. Ah, but one has good manners, so three now. Smells like... wizards." A face is made. "Better smelling than the last. They bathe."

She assures Steve after accepting the tags, "You can go past. Good time to turn around, though. No shame doing that. I'd do it. Long road for short legs."

Stephen Strange has posed:
As far as paying for passage is concerned, there are several ways that it could be accomplished. However, Strange is certainly not offering any ideas immediately for that. He found that it is safer for him to not announce what he can offer and instead see if the price can be reasonable.

Oh...but this one doesn't seem to like magic users. That isn't necessarily good for him or Zatanna....but again, if Strange seems concerned, he isn't showing it.

Instead, Strange waits to see how Thor will handle this. After all, he needs the practice for diplomacy. Maybe. Either way, it will make for a good show.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Down at the bottom of the pack, of course, Zatanna finds an apple, red striated with gold, a sticker on the side proclaiming it a Cosmic Crisp. She examines it and finds it sound and unblemished. Perfect for a gift.

Or so she fervently hopes - wizards not being well loved hereabouts.

Holding the apple in the flat of her palm, she raises it, speaking one word, ".dloG".

"My tribute, lady."

Sif has posed:
At mention of the bounty on Thor, Sif glances over to the Thunderer. Then back to the woman before them. She purses her lips a moment in thought.

"How good?" she asks of that bounty.

Then she shakes her head negatively, as though remembering herself. "Though the temptation is great, I cannot in good conscience betray my Prince."

Thor has posed:
    Sif earns a snort sidelong at her, eyes narrowing in a silent declaration that they shall talk about this later. Yet he slows the hammer. It stops, eases into Thor's grip as he advances. Looking sidelong toward Cap, the Thunderer lifts his chin a little as he gives a curious glance. The tags were accepted, and so they have weight of regard which leads one to wonder. Yet he asks not the questions that flit through his thoughts. Instead he turns to the giant as he draws near.
    "What has passed Modgud?" The Asgardian Prince asks with a directness as he pauses there. "Word travels that Niflheim has suffered for the efforts of its queen. And yet here you still hold your guard."
    A glance is given to the heroes, gaze drifting from face to face to face. "I would secure passage for me and mine. I offer you no good, but service. Would a day free of your vigil be worthy of granting us our journey?"
    He turns to look away from his comrades back to her, "A day where you can call upon me to hold this duty and I will fulfill it by my oath."

Steve Rogers has posed:
Though his payment has been accepted, Captain America stands by his friends rather than crossing, waiting to see if whatever they offer will be accepted.

He spares another glance for the icy river and those beings who are caught beneath the ice. How to reconcile this with his own beliefs about an afterlife is something that is likely to trouble him long after he's back in Avenger's Mansion. Assuming, that is, that he returns from this frozen land of the dead.

His head tilts slightly as he listens to Thor's offer to Modgud. Then a glance around them, as if picturing holding such a sigil for a day.

Jane Foster has posed:
The halfway point on the Gjallarbru rests past Modgud, who stands guard with that formidable bow and probably half the knives in Jotunheim stashed around her person. Those are the visible ones. Her armour creaks when she rests at relative ease, as much as someone who could attempt a deadeye shot in a blur of deadly motion is ever casual. "Consider it, you might buy the armory of your dreams. Maybe room for a trebuchet that throws fiery bladed balls, like angry suns. Surtr Gawpmaw would be jealous to have its like." Mjolnir's still close enough by for a giantess, even one of her ilk, to be plenty cautious about the thin line between humour and mortal offense. "Eh, always tomorrow."

"Wizard, I am no troll. Trolls suck the marrow from your bones. I?" Eyes lidding, she squints at the gold apple. The roof gives her an excellent comparison for metal! The apple is weighed in hand and accepted. She pockets it to her quiver, and slings the bow over her shoulder. "You may take your two problems and cross the Gjoll. Stay on the Helheim Road. Nothing good resides off it."

Jane looks on past the long span, fading into mist. Her arms drop and she stays very much to the side, out of the way of spells or thrown weapons. An astrophysicist does not make an outstanding soldier, even if SHIELD taught. Not here.

The giantess claps her hands together, the icicles rattling. Her sly grin gets bigger. "I would miss this day if I were not here. Eh? What a loss, and for what, a wolf pelt?" Her broad shoulders lift. "Niflheim stands shut to the quick. The outcast bring me what they will to pay their way. For these," she jingles the tags in her fist, "I tell you there is no monarch or regent over Helheim. The dead lady doesn't sit her throne. So the mighty bicker for her position, but cannot capture the realm's heart without a prize. Like this gold holds a man in thrall, so does the quest for the prize. Their silence brings bad tidings. The dead are rebellious. The hunt grows restless. The hart is in thrall, and I have no mead."

She licks her tattooed lips. "But it is a good day! I have an oath. Get on then."

Stephen Strange has posed:
An apple presented. A pair of dog tags. And...a day of respite from an endless vigil. All are good offerings.

And yet, Stephen doesn't offer anything. At least, not immediately. He saw the reaction to wizards. And yes, he is not entirely inclined to push his luck here because of it. He isn't exactly the most welcomed here. Not after that little coup attempt that he helped to squelch. He is still playing it by ear, to see exactly where he should stand.

It is a slightly precarious position he is in, to say the least.

Though...Strange does speak softly. Though, it is to Thor himself, rather than to anyone else. "If you have anything you require from me, you have but to ask."

Although....the news that Hela does not reign at present catches Stephen's ear. It isn't that big of a surprise, but it is a surprise, nonetheless. One that prompts a spoken reply. "A power vacuum always attracts those that deem themselves mighty. It...isn't a good situation, but hardly surprising."

A moment...and Strange considers something that Modgud stated. Then, with an almost lazy air about him, Stephen reaches into seemingly nothingness....and extracts a flagon of mead. The appropriate size for the giantess. The rather large helping is then offered....without any expectation.

A tribute? Perhaps. Or maybe just a token of gratitude. Either way, it is offered.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
One eyebrow raised, Zatanna shoots Thor an admiring glance for his offer to hold vigil over the bridge and the dead trapped in the ice below.

Really, for a logomancer, she should be more careful of her words. Troll, indeed! With one deep incline of head, Zatanna accepts Modgud's reproof in silence, glad she didn't become a target for the ballista. She walks past the Guardian, weighing the words she has given them. Civil war with the powerful contesting for the deserted throne awaits them. What joy! the restless dead await them.

Oh, he is a canny one Strange. She lifts a chin, and smiles watching him pull the giant tankard of mead from the void. They will pass and she has a lot to ponder.

Sif has posed:
Thankfully Strange offered mead. For Sif had considered digging in her bag, knowing full well that Helda had put at least one skin of mead in there for the journey. Most would be water but at least one would be something with a bit more kick! All good she was able to keep it.

At mention that Hela was not there but that others were squabbling, she frowned and glanced to Thor. A momentary meeting of eyes then a tiny nod from Sif.

Such squabbles were never good. In Niflheim? They could be catastrophic. Their journey to this realm just became even more dangerous.

Thor has posed:
    There's a nod given to Sif, recognition and understanding. Followed by a smile to Strange at the offer made then his eyes lower in a form of a bow as he accepts that offer in the spirit in which it is made. Yet the giant's words do cause him that instant of being taken aback much as the sorcerer.
    "Helheim's throne stands empty," That causes Thor's expression to slip toward the curious. Yet he says naught more for the moment and instead nods thoughtfully. Then he shakes his head as he moves to pass, though he does pause as he makes it past that halfway point.
    Turning back he says, "Modgud. Our purpose here is that we are on a quest of sorts. We seek an item that perhaps has its origins in Midgard, or some connection in its past. You know these lands."
    He spares a glance toward the team, then back to her. "Is there any such thing you are aware of?" As he asks he starts to back away, likely intending to continue on their journey. But lingering until he hears her words.

Steve Rogers has posed:
As Thor raises the question of their mission to the bridge's guardian, Steve lets his shield fall the rest of the way to his side, though still worn up on his arm. He glances back to Thea Queen, giving her a reassuring nod as perhaps they are about to make some progress towards finding their destination.

Captain Rogers goes back to scrying the surrounding mist and the area around them then, not getting too caught up in the conversation to not be aware of what else might be out there, hidden with the realm's chill fog.

Jane Foster has posed:
"Better than the stinking, slime-rot lickspittle of an elf who brought me a head." Modgud waits for the mead to disappear. When it doesn't, she clears her throat. Is it poor manners to throw back the drink in company? Mortals are so finicky. "I punched the wizard off the bridge. He dodged the ground." A prim admission before she crosses her arms again. Fate would be kinder to not allow someone to avoid a collision with the ground. /Two/ meads? Alas, fate is even more unkind. Skuld doesn't like Modgud quite so much.

"You want something from Midgard here?" Her braids shake and she chuckles again. "You jest! I told you what they want, these dead men of Midgard and the dead men of Asgard. The prize at the heart of Helheim. There's nothing for that but the dead and your rainbows."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"It won't be all lightness, unicorns and rainbows will it?" the magician asks Strange once they have passed the giantess guarding the bridge. It will be catch as catch can finding an object."

Coming abreast of Thor and Sif, "What do you think of restoring Hela to the throne? Would that be what the realm needs to stabilize?"

Sif has posed:
That earns a wince from Sif but she gives a faint shrug. "She did give stability though at what cost? Her hunger for more is insatiable and a true danger. But..."

And this pained her so to have to admit. Because to say anything positive about Hela felt wrong in some way. "She did take her duties as caretaker for those who sought passage after death was taken with the seriousness it is due. She did not shirk and seemed to perform the duties well, sorting the final destination be it Hel or Valhalla."

Thor has posed:
    Thor's answer to the giant?
    "Well then." He says lightly, nodding a little with either understanding or feigned such. He turns and resumes the journey. "Onward to Helheim then," And with that said he hangs Mjolnir on his hip and starts across that horrid landscape of the land of the dead, leaving at the least a passingly companionable giant in their wake.
    When Zatanna steps up with them he looks at her with that same curiousity then his eyes widen a little as he shoots a glance over at Sif. "If we were to do something like that..."
    Shaking his head he murmurs, "Might be best to consult with mine father. For that would have... repercussions."

Jane Foster has posed:
"Unicorns?" Modgud looks at Thor and Sif with a pointed, level stare. Wizards! "You need the same prize they want."

She finally spies a quick look and throws back a sip of the mead. Hopefully it's not Mountain Dew or warm, flat Fresca. Embarrassment will hold out for now.

She holds up the mead in farewell. "Take heart and follow the dead. Lucky you have one!"