3920/War comes to Niffleheim

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War comes to Niffleheim
Date of Scene: 24 October 2020
Location: The gates of Hel
Synopsis: Ares goes to Hel's entrance to check on Hela.
Cast of Characters: Hela, Ares




Hela has posed:
Nifleheim, the land of ice and mists. Stark mountains rising up into the fog which shrouds Asgard above, cold winds through freezing valleys. Dragons, goblins, trolls, if you go looking for them.

And if you know where to go, the Gnipa Cave, the entrance to Helheim itself. Hela has a soul with her who she deemed worthy of handling herself - a human soul, somewhat unusually for around here. Not exactly many who follow the old ways in Midgard any more, but there are a few. Those few get unusual care an attention, this one - a young man, wearing an old pattern US Army uniform though with the addition of a UN blue helmet following her.

A huge hound's glowing red eyes can be seen from the depths of the cave, though he's quiet, aside from the occasional snort or yawn. He senses the presence of his mistress after all.

The cold winds blowing between the icy crags seem to form a funereal lament, a faint noise of solemn chanting and a soft beat in time with Hela's slow steps.

Ares has posed:
Hela has been active.

...and busy.

All the same, to ensure Hela isn't about to unleash Hel on earth and endanger his son in the process, Ares makes a trip to Niflheim, marching up to the entrance of the great cave, Gnipa. Dressed in his finest armor for the occasion with multiple weapons on his person, namely a large battleaxe, some handguns along his waist, and a sword in his offhand. Mystical in nature, as they were created via magic.

"Hela!" He roars with a voice that is greater than the fiercrest of battle drums.

Hela has posed:
Hela actually /ignores/ him! at least for a moment. She walks the soul to the mouth of the cave, whereupon she whispers something to the great hound there, tilting her head, the antlers making the the slightest head motion obvious. The hound, panting, nudges the soul into the dark cavern with it's nose. The soul seems to know where it's going, and doesn't resist or anything.

Then Hela turns around, and strides more purposefully towards Ares, crunching through the snow, coming to a halt perhaps 20 paces apart. Despite Ares' appearance, and the fact she recognises him, she's not that impressed. Her hands go to to her hips.

"A soft and foolish Olympian dares brave the realm of Death. That soul is mine, Ares. By right.". Her first though, her souls. "And now he will be deprived being led into Helheim by the Queen of the Dead. Because of you, seeking an audience.". She scowls.

"What do you want, God of War?".

Ares has posed:
Ares takes a glance at Hela, narrowing his eyes at her. She may appear healthy, but he knows that death is seen as beautiful to the mortals. Makes sense. "Hnnnh. No wonder no one wants to die."

Ares retorts his own insult when Hela insults him with her assumed observations. "I'm not here for that soul. You've been busy, and I've felt your eyes shift to Midgard more prevalently than in past millenias. What do you seek with that world? Answer me, or you will feel the sting of my blade."

Hela has posed:
"Maybe veiled insults are a respected form of combat atop Mount Olympus." Hela mocks back.

"But to answer your question, I have neglected my duties in Midgard for too long. Death touches all the realms, after all. Including Midgard. And some still follow the Asgardian ways in Midgard, in their hearts.".

Maybe if this was neutral territory, she would be more respectful, or at least more guarded. But this is HER realm. She takes a step forward, foot crunching on the ice. "I would have thought a God of War would understand such things.". And then shakes a hand dismissively at Ares. "The audience is concluded." she declares, turning to walk towards the cave, with a final wave of her hand ... more of a beckoning, actually.

The ice trembles beneath their feet, and then there's a terrible cracking noise that echoes across the mournful valleys of Nifleheim. One enormous winged claw, and then another, drags the huge skeletal body out of the ice - a dragon, though a very dead one it seems.

"Show him out." Hela says coldly.

Ares has posed:
"All conflict gives me strength, Hela."

Ares replies to her, though unfortunately, he realizes this is her realm and many would assume he has no right to demand anything of the Goddess of Death. Thankfully, the God of War does not seem to care. He looks at the enormas maw of a necro dragon as it marches through the ice.

He gets to kill something twice as he smirks at it. "This conversation is not concluded Hela. The only thing you've done if lead a lamb to slaughter."

Ares leaps into the air suddenly, attempting to bring his axe down upon the skull of the dead dragon, as if to shatter it with his mighty strike. Granted, it is still a dragon...but what is a dragon to a God?"

Hela has posed:
"So it IS. Why am I not surprised.".

The dragons rears up surprisingly fast, fast enough for the axe to miss the head and shatter a few bones on the dragon's chest. Well, actually a LOT of bones, like half of it's ribs. One claw flaps impotently as an odd angle, the joints missing, while the other attempts to rake across Ares's face. He'll probably have to smash it into little bits.

Hela has at least turned again. "How will you defeat death, Ares? By killing it?" she laughs. "Not even Thor can best me in my own realm.".

Ares has posed:
Ares axe misses and he growls through his teeth as he gets the chest instead. The bones shatter in his swing. The claw that swings misses him as he evades in mid-air and lands on his feet, a growl touching his features as he reads his blade again.

"Because Thor is a fool. You forget that while death is strong, it can be bested even then. You forget Hela, I am WAR!"

And War is conflict and conflict is eternal. Ares leaps at the dragon, swinging both of his weapons and aiming for the wings of the dragon to keep it from flying.

Hela has posed:
"Wars end when there is no one left alive to fight them." Hela points out with a smile, watching as the unfortunate dragons bony wing is rent asunder by that axe. Minus a wing and a half, it loses it's balance and crashes into the ice, skidding along its surface and its sharp bones tearing at the snow, exposing the raw ice beneath the snowy crust atop it.

It lashes with its bony tail at its assailant, as the dragon tries to raise itself up off the ice and turn around at the same time, to ready its mighty jaws.

Ares has posed:
Ares retorts. "Life and death is conflict, the mere concept of conflict is my strength. War ends when all life is exterminated." Ares growls before he charges at the downed animal, intending to use his axe and sword to shatter its spine and skull to hopefully rid it of mobility and end it.

"Even your war beasts are a pestilence easily disposed of."

Hela has posed:
The dragon is shattered into pieces. "When all life is exterminated, I will be at my fullest power. Soul by soul, my dominion grows.", Hela retorts.

"Enough games, Ares, you're making me sound like one of you Olympian talkers. Maybe you're made of sterner stuff than that whimperer Aphrodite after all.". She walks over to him, as the dragon sinks back down into the ice with a wave of her hand.

"I'd enjoy seeing you fight Thor one day... But another time. In any case I am not lying to you. I'm not Loki." she points out with a sneer. "My business in Midgard is simply that. Discharging my duties. The only invasion being planned is the one on Asgard, and it's been planned for centuries.".