16181/Mjolnir says hi.

Mjolnir says hi.
Date of Scene:	26 October 2023
Location:	Palace - Asgard
Synopsis:	Discussions are had on the disposition of diplomatic parcels.
Cast of Characters:	Sif, Thor

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Sif has posed:
"It truly is impressive. I have not seen its like in many years," came Sif's voice from just inside the embassy doors. "The length is above the norm, is it not? Quite sturdy as well. We should test it together."

Then the doors open and she strides out with one of the weaponsmiths, an unfamiliar sword in her right hand as she tested the weight of it. Sif herself is in full armor as she heads over to the practice area they have set aside in the courtyard of the embassy. She gives a few test swings then turns to face the weapon smith, a smile on her face. He drew his own weapon for he not only made them but knew how to use them, as any good Asgardian.

"The reach will force me to get use different techniques. It's in that strange in between space that I'm not used to." Great swords sure. Longswords yes. Shortswords even. But the was somewhere between a longsword and greatsword.

And it was that moment there was a trill from her torso and she held up a hand to hold the fight starting as she reached into the armor to find her phone. A quick glance at the screen to see if she should answer then she silenced it and tucked it away.

Thor has posed:
    There came a voice from above the courtyard. One of the studies that overlook with a balcony so available. It was there that should eyes wander they would see the tall blond man with the ragged beard as he tilted his head to the side to cast his gaze down upon those so below. His lip was curled wryly as he voiced a few words, "Of late I have come to appreciate the marvel that is that device you so cruelly hide in your breastplate, Sif. Ignoring its plaintive cries. Shame, I say."
    He rests his hands upon the railing, shaking his head with faux sorrow. "One must wonder if this is the level of neglect you level to such a thing that only seeks to aid you, what sort of villainy you must be up to when it comes to one's friends."
    He turns his head to the side and calls out to someone within the study, "Hedla, Hedla, are you there?"
    A moment, though those outside likely cannot hear the head of the house answer him. But they'll hear Thor as he remarks, "Was there not some function I attended of late that _Sif_ did not, even though she had given her solemn word to attend?"
    A pause, then he holds up a hand, as if dismissing whatever Hedla is saying as he replies, "Bah, surely you are misremembering."

Sif has posed:
"When it is a call from Spam, it does not deserve my attention," Sif called out to the prince up on the balcony. "I have been told that is one not to answer by Thea Queen." She had a good mentor when it came to traversing Midgard in the modern day. Though that perhaps depended on what one defined as 'good'. Some advice Sif received might be suspect.

At the accusation of not being present when she should, Sif found herself pointing that sword in his direction. "I have been to all required functions as befitting my station. Though if you would perhaps like to come down and reprimand me in the proper manner..." A swing of her sword in demonstration. "I would be agreeable. Though I understand if you choose not. I would hate to embarass you in front of the guard. As well as the Midgardians peeking through the gates from the sidewalk." For they were a presence typically during the day. Trying to get pictures of what they had known as Norse gods in their lessons.

"Or remain there drinking mead and further expanding that waistline of yours. Much more and you will be as big as Volstagg..."

Thor has posed:
    "You flatter me, and perhaps Volstagg. Such an accomplishment is no small thing." Thor's lip twists upwards, "But I think of the two of us it may be more that you are more likely the one in her cups, for you pretend that you might enjoy anything save sound defeat should we cross blades? Clearly you have gotten an early start this morn."
    At which point when Thor utters those words, one of the guards catches his breath and hides his smile. Though stoicism is the byword of the soldiers there, it is rare to see the prince and his comrades so at ease and making light of the moment.
    "But if you can bide but a moment, and perhaps keep up thine morale should good Storri the Blacksmith defeat you, then I will be down post haste." He lightly thumps a hand upon the railing and points at her as if daring her to flee away from the scene at the prospect of facing him. Then, the next moment, he's disappearing into the study.

Sif has posed:
There was a derisive snort in response then Sif turned her attention back to Storri. Who was doing his best not to grin and failing spectacularly. "Remind me to gamble with you in the future," were the words from Sif. She used her free hand to motion to his face. "You could not bluff were your life dependant upon it."

Then she moves to the ready position. A moment later, the sound of steel on steel rang through the courtyard. Storri was well versed but this was more a match for Sif to get used to the new blade he had created. Thus, they weren't going full out so much as getting in a variety of strikes and blocks. "This thing going to hold up against the Prince?" she asked Storri before the man in question made it to the courtyard. The response was not as positive as she would've hoped and that caused Sif to frown a little.

A moment later, she was pressing more fully and getting into the feel of the new weapon.

Thor has posed:
    It didn't take too terribly long before those double doors that lead into the embassy proper open. Through them strides Thor, Prince of Asgard, God of Thunder. Though he looks less like a Prince and more like a fellow who might bring you your Uber. Since he wore a loose grey hoodie and blue jeans at the moment. To be fair he did have a breastplate covering his large chest and it was strapped securely. He also had a nice shield, albeit a training one primarily ironwood and with a robust rim. The sword in his hand was a practice blade though only dulled. It still had the weight and strength of a suitable weapon.
    Out he strolled, swirling the blade a few times, then bringing it into line with her to point at her as if she were just another gladiator out in the arena whom he challenged. "Courageous of you, Sif."
    He lightly thumped the flat of his blade against his shield, "Putting yourself out so, facing such universal condemnation and deep deep embarrassment when you find yourself defeated by my complete knowledge of the martial sphere."

Sif has posed:
Sif made a show of bringing up her free hand and waving it back and forth in front of her face like one would if they smelled somethnig unpleasant. "Good Storri, is it my imagination or is there much blustering wind coming from his direction with nothing of substance carried upon it? Other than the stench of whatever he ate for breakfast."

Storri knew better and stepped out of the way of the pair, grinning but saying not a word.

Sif took a few steps to the side, facing the Prince of Asgard with a smirk on her lips. "You are starting to show your age, My Prince," she said with a wicked grin. "You talk talk talk instead of letting your actions speak for themselves."

Thor has posed:
    "Alas," Thor steps up to stand opposite Sif, his blade coming up to lightly tap the tip against hers, the subtle difference in reach telling to them both as they settle into stance. His lip curls roguishly as he shakes his head, "I do at times find myself pining for good conversation. Even laconic Hogun speaks with me more often than some of my older friends and comrades. Shame upon them."
    As he utters those impugning words the sword flicks out and thumps against her shield, keying in the first series of blows as he advances on her with a rhythmic quartet of strikes that urge her backwards and sound loud and fine off the surface of her shield.
    Yet she knows it for what it is. What some would call theaterwork for he's attacking the shield less the warrior. A show for the soldiers.

Sif has posed:
It was easy to fall into the pattern. In truth, it was a training method that had been presented when they were children. To get used to the weight of the sword, the feel of it striking against a shield, developing that muscle memory of how to use the impact or your own movements to reserve strength for those battles that lasted for extended timeframes. Though this was the flashier version, the ones that were used as kids grew up and got bored so they made a show of it.

Though they were good at it. It wasn't obvious to outsiders. Unlike much Midgardian cinema where one could see the sword swing would never touch the other person,even if they hadn't blocked. Swords flailing in the air with no actual target that would be struck. This seemed more believable at least.

"I think I like this new blade length. It allows me to fight with one hand still but gives me something to compensate for the reach of a larger opponent," she murmured as she brought her own blade to attack. She too making sure that the blade would be met by shield, though not /aiming/ for the shield. Just knowing that it could and would be blocked by putting the attack in a spot easily defended in that manner.

"You'll have to try it."

Thor has posed:
    "Swords always make me feel I should be more formal," Thor says in that firm tone of voice he has while fighting, yet there's that casual familiarity there as they match against each other, their form perfect and their stance precise. At times now his blade flicks to the side, testing her guard, pressing steadily, letting her lead him back along the circuitous route around the courtyard.
    "By the bye." He brings his shield up and now it's time for her to truly test that new blade as he begins to shift more to the defensive, easing onto his back foot and letting her set the pace.
    "You still have that ranch here on Midgard, yes?"

Sif has posed:
And with that change in stance, Sif picked up the signal and began to attack more strenuously. The intent was mainly to test the new blade, to see if it could withstand the punishment that would be meted out on the battlefield. It wasn't exactly standard drills that they were doing but the pair of them had trained and sparred so many times in their long lives, they had their own rhythm, flowing naturally together.

The question surprised her but she answered easily enough, though she was starting to put more power behind her swings so there would be a pause here or there if she was performing a strong swing. "Yes. I do. I believe I have all the livestock I want for now and wish to start breeding. The speed of Midgardian equines combined with the hardiness and strength of our own should make for quite the beasts. Why do you ask?"

Thor has posed:
    There are times when one is in battle and they have a sweeping view of what passes around them, but then there are other times when one just has to hunker down and hang on. When Sif sets herself to work your guard, that is one such a time. Thor finds a nice little home behind the circular wooden board with its metal supports. The Asgardian noblewoman hammers his shield steadily, working the quarters and trying to play upon Thor's guard.
    She is quick and good, but for now... he maintains. Only at times offering a quick riposte as his blade slips into the rhythm, his wrist twisting sharply, the point of his weapon lashing out only to be deflected. The two of them merely work that into the latticework of their interplay.
    "A curious message came to me, and it made me think of you." His brow furrowed as they worked back and forth, each lunging at times, retreating, then lunging again, a seesaw back and forth. Then he's retreating again. "Were you aware that the Svartalfar... have horses of their own?"

Sif has posed:
A lesser fighter might have faltered at that moment so much was her surprise. But Sif had fought for centuries in true battles, not just sparring matches with old friends. Thus, she didn't allow it to interfere with her movements.

One of his attempts came far too close for her liking and she turned the attacks up a notch, beginning to move more freely to the left or right, trying to get past that guard. Though he didn't often use a shield, Thor was more skilled than one might realize. He kept her at bay easily enough.

"I...was not." An admission she didn't like making. "What manner of beasts are they?"

Thor has posed:
    "I had no idea either. We never saw them in battle." Thor says reflecting her surprise in the sympathy of his own features. His one good eye tightens as she continues with focus, his blade fliicking up and back then out again, the Asgardian steel sparking blue as blade slid along blade. He executed a smooth stop-thrust trying to break the rhythm and put Sif on her back foot, but she had no gap nor need of recovery to exploit.
    "I have never seen them. I asked Horgrim the Elder what he knew of them and he said the only tale that had been told was one of a race between nobles."
    It was at that moment that he caught her eye and silently, just with the lift of his eyebrows he asked her a silent question that he had asked her many of those thousands of times they had trained together. A wordless query of a pause. And should she agree he lowers his blade and shield, gesturing to one of the hovering servants nearby for refreshment.
    The pageboy on hand rushed forward with a pitcher of ice water and started to pour some into glass cups, one for each of them, ice clinking within.
    "This came to my attention as several of the... clans? Families?" For they still knew so little about the Dark Elves. "Several of them have offered some steeds to solidify the peace between us."

Sif has posed:
For a moment, she had continued to attack but then it was as though it sank in and she quickly withdrew a step, lowering her weapon as she gave a quick nod to show her agreement. A pause for a drink and conversation was fine. They had given the new blade a very good test already for it to survive the strength of such blows.

She set it aside for a moment then accepted the glass with a quick, "Thank you." Since it was never difficult to be polite to pages. They were just eager to help and hoping to someday be the ones on the field, in truth.

At mention of the offer, Thor would know that look. Her eyes flashed with interest but then just as quickly hooded slightly in suspicion. "Is that a price we are willing to pay? And in befriending some through a peace, will that have others becoming our enemies? For enemies we have had so long, we truly know so little about them outside of battle."

Thor has posed:
    "It is not something that wins or loses the politics of the moment." Thor says, taking a sip of the water and then crunching one of the ice cubes between his molars. "It is viewed as any number of items that are being sent our way from their... factions. Gifts. Though we reject them all the required there times. They insist the needed fourth time. But already some of the gifts have arrived. Snori, of all people, spoke of interest he had in some of their weapons. He is trying to ferret out their blacksmithing techniques. Baldur also had interest in their histories."
    Thor steps to the side then, walking toward the edge of the training field. Seeing them ceding control of it, some of the other guards and soldiers who were scheduled to train moved onto the area slowly, making sure the royal and his colleague had given up the use of the place so they could resume their efforts.
    With the soldiers starting their exercises behind them, Thor continues. "We are going to have these horses, and after the sages consider these gifts for possible... detrimental effects, there is no reason that you should not be given oversight for one of the stallions. Or a mare?"

Sif has posed:
That got a little grin from her as she gave him a brief side eye. "Perhaps one of each?" The humor was there in her tone as well, matching the sparkle in her eyes. Though she continued more seriously a moment after as they stepped further from the practice field.

"As they are a complete unknown, one would be wonderful so I can learn more about them. I would like information on their physiology, records that they might have if any. So I can learn if they will be compatible with Asgardian or Midgardian breeds at all. Or if they even have traits that we would want to combine to make for a better beast. Considering that we have not heard of them, I suspect they are unlikely to be able to add to the traits already inherent. Though I still would love to have one..."

And her voice trailed off before she smiled, "Just for bragging rights if nothing else."

Thor has posed:
    "When they arrive," He takes another sip of water, then another ice cube meets its fate as he crunches it. "I will be sure to let you know. It is... strange to be interacting with the Svartalfar, even at this removed level." He sets the shield down upon the back of one of the chairs. Then he rests the practice blade through its grips, mating the pair.
    "They still use diplomatic rites and... use the old ways. Yet we haven't had discourse with them in thousands of years."
    He then shakes his head, "In any case, when I learned of this, I thought of you."

Sif has posed:
"It is strange. And our guest altered our plans with his talk of being controlled." This had Sif frowning anew as she thought about it. She did pass the new sword back to the man who had created it, giving him a nod and saying they would discuss later though it obviously had performed well.

Then Sif's attention was back to Thor. "If nothing else, even if I cannot have one, I will be glad to put them through their paces. Give you an idea of if it was a good bargain or gift. Or if it was more an insult to give them to us."

She took another sip of the water, the ice clinking on the glass it was held within as they little blocks were shifted by the movement and liquid within. "Do we have books on the etiquette of the old ways to fall back on? I would hate to start the war over again by not bowing properly. Unless they prefer a curtsey."

Thor has posed:
    "No, Sif. At this point..." And for the first time in a while when speaking about... politics, he smiled. He lifts his chin, "They must adapt to us." And with that he takes another swallow of ice water, then sets it aside.