7262/Matters of life, death, and afterwards.

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Matters of life, death, and afterwards.
Date of Scene: 07 August 2021
Location: Oblivion Bar
Synopsis: Vintridr informs Sif about the problems with the afterlife, and delivers a cautionary warning.
Cast of Characters: Vintridr, Sif




Vintridr has posed:
    It isn't odd for Sif to receive invitations; it seems a great many denizens of Midgard would gladly treat her to drinks or take her dancing or various other things mentioned. It's a bit less common, however, for her to receive one written in formal Asgardian runes. It appears Vintridr needs to discuss something important at a discreet location -- and when it comes to discretion and privacy, there are few places more so than Oblivion.

    When Sif arrives, Vintridr is already sitting at one of the booth tables, wearing proper Asgardian clothes for once rather than the Midgardian fashions she seems to favour when walking among mortals.

Sif has posed:
It doesn't get a whole lot more Asgardian than the clothing Sif is wearing now. She's kitted for battle like she might be were she appearing at Court: subtly emphasizing both her station (high) and her disdain for courtiers (even higher). As she steps in and takes in the embiance she briefly makes a face before stepping deeper in and scanning for Vin. Spotting her she navigates through to where the retired Valkyrior sits.

"No need to stand," she says automatically, as if granting a personal favour before slipping in across from Vin. "Vintridr. It is good to see you again. We have both been busy. I have only just heard of what transpired at the festival of minstrels. Are you hale? Were you present for the event?"

A short pause ensues.

"Or is this a social invitation?"

Vintridr has posed:
    Vintridr shakes her head with a smile. "Not that your presence isn't always a welcome one, Lady Sif, but sadly this is not merely a social invitation... And no, I wasn't present at the festival, but I suspect this is related."

    She takes a sip from her drink, then regards Sif levelly, all levity gone from her features. "I must ask you to at least temporarily table your plans for the Young Queen. It will not work."

    She holds out one hand, and a glowing gem appears in a shimmering of rainbow light. Sif recognizes it as part of a Valkyrior's formal armour - a crystal meant to temporarily house gathered souls until they can be conveyed to Valhalla. It also appears to be occupied.

    "I discovered this recently when a death god attempted to assault New York. Valhalla is... Not available, right now. There is something /dreadfully/ wrong with the pathways to the afterlives. If she were to die, even in my presence, no matter how heroically her struggle, I could not say where her soul would end up. So until matters change, until I tell you that the halls of Valhalla once again welcome the victorious fallen... Postpone your plans."

Sif has posed:
"..."

Sif seems about to say something. Then stops. The service arrives and provides a distraction as she sorts out her unsettled thoughts.

"Plan?" she asks as casually as she can. Which, given she plays the game of Court, is very casual. "I have no plan for anything involving Valhalla."

The lie is smooth, but it is to Sif's credit that she's an uncomfortable liar. She's not Loki.

"But it troubles me to hear that the pathways are muddled. What has caused this and why?"

That part is true. This troubles her.

The bit about plans is a lie. She's no Loki.

Vintridr has posed:
    Vin's return gaze is - somehow - equal parts deferential, respectful, and /profoundly unimpressed/. "... Lady Sif. Your name is spoken with respect throughout the Realm. Your exploits are the stuff of song and legend; your courage, honor and prowess are unquestioned. Your subtlety... Is not."

    She sighs. "Honesty compels me to - reluctantly - acknowledge that your scheme seems to be the exact blend of far-fetched, outside of context and flat out unlikely that you and the Warriors Three are so well known for bringing to fruition despite all probability, which is why I haven't raised any objections earlier. But right now it will. Not. Work -- and if you persist you may well doom her to a fate worse than death."

Sif has posed:
"I shall, of course," Sif says, after sipping her drink. (A sign of her discombobulation at the news: she's sipping!) "Listen to the expert. I have your training. Have trained you and your sisters. I have the honorary status of Valkyrior, but I am not one who has flown over the fields to Choose."

She gestures at the gem.

"I have never before wielded one of those beyond in admiration."

Another sip. She must be very troubled.

"So if you tell me the pathways have been corrupted, I will naturally believe you. And any plans I may or may not have once had I will put immediately on hold, of course. If they existed."

Now a gulp. And a grin filled with mischief.

"Which, naturally, they don't."

She positively dares Vintridr to disagree, those eyes flashing and dancing in the light.

Vintridr has posed:
    Vintridr smiles /very/ diplomatically. "Naturally," she replies. Then her face falls. "As to what's causing this... I can only speculate, and even that not very well. At first I thought it was because of the direct interference of the death god that was attacking the area, but the effect persisted even after it was vanquished -- now I suspect that it wasn't the cause, but rather taking advantage of the situation..."

    She trails off with a sigh. "As to the how, the why or the whence... Your guess would be as good as mine. Unfortunately, I haven't met many people who could give me a clear answer, or even point me in a direction to look. Until I do, the best we can do is try to deal with the immediate problems it causes, and keep our eyes open for clues."

Sif has posed:
"I think this needs to be brought up with the younger Prince." If he isn't the cause. That thought isn't voiced, but it is loudly absent. "I lack knowledge of the subtle ways of sorcery. As do you. If this is something we can settle on the fields of battle, it is my domain. This is ... not my bailiwick."

She leans back and relaxes. Dismissing something as unavailable to her to solve is liberating: the wisdom of the battlefield warrior.

"So I will take it up with him and then figure out what to do."

Beat.

"Did you see my interview?"

Vintridr has posed:
    Vintridr chuckles. "I think at this point there isn't a soul on Midgard who hasn't seen it," she replies. "Out of curiosity, how badly did embassy staff yell at you afterwards? You did... Reasonably well, for one not versed in diplomacy, but I suspect there will have been any number of rather pointed calls from various government officials requesting clarification..."

    She sets her empty glass down on the table. "For once, Loki Lie-Smith is /not/ among my list of suspects; this just doesn't strike me as his style..."

Sif has posed:
"There are none who would dare yell at me on the staff," Sif says smoothly, with an amused face. "There was SOME hand-wringing, however, and I gather that people misunderstood what I meant when I referred to barbaric splendour, even after I carefully explained it."

What can you say. Some people look for reasons to get offende, right? It couldn't possibly be HER fault!

"I believe you mispronounced, 'Prince Loki, Scion of the House of Asgard', Vintridr," she then says, desperately trying (and failing) to keep a straight face. "But I agree. This does not feel like one of his plots. This seems ... darker than he usually tries for. I will be seeking his counsel."

Vintridr has posed:
    Vintridr smiles thinly. "I respect the younger prince, but I /know/ him," she replies. "It's not in my nature to shy away from the truth of things... But yes. His skills and wit may well be of more use than mine in uncovering the source of these events. At the very least, he should be able to tell us where to look... And since this does threaten Asgard, if indirectly, I think he can be.. Relied upon."

Sif has posed:
"You are speaking," Sif says, voice haughty and overwrought. Joking, in short. "Of my future husband. Should he become Crown Prince, I mean."

Sif laughs then and drains her tankard.

"It was good to see you, Vintridr. I have been so busy with all of this Midgard matter surrounding me that I have not been able to keep up with my friends. This is a tragedy I must see if I cannot stop in its tracks."

Sif rises to her feet.

"Thank you for the warning, and I will keep you informed as to anything I learn of this matter. We must open that door to Valhalla again. We will, my friend and companion in battle."

The farewell clasp is a strong one. Between equals.

Vintridr has posed:
    Vintridr returns the clasp with a strength that only an Asgardian could bring to bear. "We will. This aberration will not be permitted to continue. The honored dead /will/ receive their just reward. We shall see to it."