I am travelling for a conference next week, so my posting rate will be slower as my schedule is completely packed, and sandwiched between 11-hour flights.
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Erika breathes easier as Schmitty agrees to come over to their side and be of help. She squeezes his shoulder in gratitude and stays at his side for most of the rest of the day, trying to make him feel accepted and included. Should the dwarves protest or question his addition to the group, she will speak quiet words to them.
As Chloe rallies the dwarves to their cause, her determination inspires Erika as well and she starts drafting lists of potential allies - who can be trusted, what degree of truth should they reveal to each, what plausible cover stories can they make up otherwise. Her participation in the celebration is reserved - she is on the edges, partaking of the food and drink in moderation between bouts of furious typing on her laptop. Among other things, she drafts up an email to her mother, explaining the situation and asking for her advice.
"Help us." Erika responds, simply. "We need to recover the Heart of Winter. Come with us and help us do that."
Chloe was right, this wasn't a case that you could bring before the court. But what were they to do with the motocentaur? Kill him? Imprison him? They certainly couldn't let him roam free after what he had done. The nature of justice is something that Erika has spent a great deal of time thinking about. When someone breaks the law, we have to also examine the nature of the law, and the nature of the circumstances that led that person to break it. We also have to consider the degree of harm that they have inflicted upon others by doing so. Should we also judge intent when we weigh a transgression? Yet, good and evil can exist independently of any laws. And the nature of punishment is another complex topic. Many legal systems intend punishment as a mix of deterrent and as means of offering the victims some satisfaction. Yet, she had been reading a lot about the incarceration systems in nordic countries like Sweden and Norway, where the focus is on rehabilitation, and not punishment. Somehow, that seems fitting here. "You cannot undo the pain and loss that you have caused. But perhaps you can atone for it, by changing your heart and your ways. We fight a desperate fight to save the world; nothing less. Now is your chance to be on the right side of history, on the right side of humanity."
Erika looks up from her screen as Chloe approaches. She frowns at the other woman's words, not because she dislikes the request, but because... well, this is a very difficult topic. "I am not a judge, Chloe. I just make sure that the bad people are punished. But is our justice system the best it could be? I don't know. And I don't know enough about... about Schmitty and what he's done to even start making a decision." She closes her laptop and slides it in its sleeve, then turns to look at the motocentaur surrounded by the others. Squaring her shoulders, she strides over, stopping in front of Schmitty and seeking his gaze. "Schmitty, you have done some bad things."
"Hold on, I have my laptop in my car. Faster to type on that." says Erika. A look at the mototaur assures her that he's not going anywhere for now. What a sweet person Chloe was, so empathetic! She cannot say that she has sympathy for the creature, not when he resorted to kidnapping and associated himself with known miscreants. Understanding criminal motivations is one thing, forgiving people based on that... no, she doesn't have it in her.
Erika peeks over Chase's shoulder as he does the search. "Can you check if these Fornjot Power people are connected to Krieger Munitions?" It was, perhaps, a long shot, but who knew? While battling mythological creatures and chasing powerful artifacts was all well and good, she hadn't forgotten about her case. Some of her companions may be able to shrug off a bullet wound or three, or ignore a body's biological needs, but the same could not be said of those who did not have the fortune (or misfortune) of having a deity as their parent. Las Vegas had been a massacre. And if her intuition was right, it was somehow connected to this.
Erika's expression becomes suddenly thoughtful as she remembers something. She looks the motocentaur straight in the eye. "Ixion?"
Erika inches closer, studying the motocentaur. "And? Did your boss find what he was looking for? As for help, what is it that you want? What could you desire that you would consort with kidnappers and thugs?" Her tone and voice are deceptively gentle; they whisper 'trust me, I can help you'. After all the explosive violence of a few moments ago, Erika thinks a soft touch might help.
Time seems to be moving in slow motion as the sounds of the invasion are heard outside. Unfortunately, so does Erika; she tries to leap to her feet, getting tangled in the cushions she was sitting on, bumping into the dwarves who were all trying to rush outside. By the time she makes it into the street, it's almost over. Two Giants lie decapitated, the... what in all hells is that! ...the motorcycle-taur is crashed on its side, and Chloe seems to have disabled a third Giant. Chloe! Erika rushes at the other woman's side, past the strangely transformed Chase, pulling out her gun as she does so and aiming it into the Giant's open mouth, just in case. If it even twitches menacingly, she pulls the trigger.
Erika finds a spot on a cushion and sits cross-legged, watching the assembled dwarves in silence. Reaching into the leather pouch that she is holding in her lap, she retrieves a single stone, the rune Jór, running it through her fingers as she casts her mind back to the extraordinary events of the last day. She starts off with a quote from the Prose Edda, reciting the words in English, but letting the Icelandic accent slip in and flavor them with the weight of a language that has changed little in the last millennium. ”Odin is highest and eldest of the Aesir: he rules all things, and mighty as are the other gods, they all serve him as children obey a father. Frigg is his wife, and she knows all the fates of men, though she speaks no prophecy.” She pauses for effect, looking everyone in the eye, one by one. ”Frigg is also my mother, and I have inherited the gift of fate wisdom from her. She was wearing a blue dress the night she visited me. Revealed herself to me, and the destiny of the world. Ragnarok is coming, my friends.” She switches to Old Icelandic, reciting from Völuspá in a slow, ponderous cadence: ”Sól tér sortna,
The dwarves should know this one – it is the stanza describing the destruction of Midgard, the darkening of the sun and the burning of Yggdrasil. ”The gods are bound against the fates. The Norns have measured the thread of the world and its length is set. But us, us Scions, the offspring of gods and mortals, standing on the threshold between this world and the divine one… There is a sliver of a chance that we can still nudge the waft and weave, change the path of destruction, save some of this world. That is what we here have set out to do. Huginn and Muninn told us of an artifact called The Heart of Winter, the power of which can control the weather, and who knows what else besides. The spawns of titans also hunt this Heart of Winter, and the trail of it led to the town where we found Ola and Cybil.” She pauses again, taking a sip of water and letting her audience stew a little. ”We girded ourselves for battle and set off. The place was eerie when we got there. Cold. We descended into the bowels of the earth on rusted chains, not knowing what to expect. Creatures came at us, such as we had never seen before; a giant and three trolls. Perhaps you think our claim to divine ascendancy untrue, but if you had seen how they had fought – the son of Thor, the son of Ran, the son of Hel, the daughter of Freya, the son of Heimdall – their feats were not those of mortals, I tell you! No mortal can ram his spear clean through a troll in one blow, or dance on the walls, or fire crystal bullets in the colours of the rainbow!” Her words are ringing with passion now as she gesticulates in an attempt to illustrate the battle in the mine. ”The sword Dainsleif crashes down, wounding the giant, who swings his mighty club in retaliation and is thwarted by the earth itself! Dainsleif strikes again, hewing the giant in two. Heimdall’s son leaps on a troll’s head, putting a bullet in the skull of another! Thor’s son impales two trolls at once on his mighty sword and Hell’s Scion sinks his blade into another. The son of Ran springs on his spear, driving it into the chest of the enemy and out on the other side! Thor’s son cleaves the last foe in half, and the battle is done.” She takes a few moments to get her breath back to a more normal rhythm and to take another sip of water. ”Thus we vanquished those who had captured your kin, but alas! Our prize was out of our reach, spirited away. Cybil read the fates in the waters, and we think they hint at the new location of the Heart of Winter, but we have yet to solve that riddle.”
Are people ok with Erika telling the story?
"I visit quite often as well. Ísafjörður in the summer, Lake Myvatn in the winter. Say, do you know which Elder Ones settled here? If any?" Erika makes a vague gesture with one hand, indicating anything from the surrounding area to the entire of North America.
"Then, while we wait, let's talk a bit, get to know each other a little better. Ola, forgive my curiosity, but is that an Icelandic accent I hear on you? I was born there, always nice to meet someone from the motherland." She smiles at Ola, hopefully encouraging her to talk about herself.
"Well, there is only one record of such incident, in the Prose Edda. But it could be true, as dwarves may share the same ancestry as the jötnar, according to the Völuspá."
"Prophecy...? I, for one, do not have questions for the future at this time. We do, however, have something that we need to do here." She tilts her head at her companions, trying to hint at their mission and the Heart of Winter. No matter how earnest Cybil was, Erika could not help but feel wary towards the woman. Just too many things didn't add up and she doubted that the legendary ravens of her stepfather made many mistakes. And there was no reason for them to try and deceive herself and the other Scions, while - on the other hand - Loki was an equally legendary trickster. Perhaps not ill-intentioned, but deception was deception. Not ok, in Erika's book.
"Oh man, I love Tom Hiddleston! Huh, do you think Marvel are onto something, making all these movies with Thor and Loki and Ragnarok? Maybe on of their execs is a Scion..." Erika makes a mental note to look into that later. "Anyway, Cybil, your bike outside was all frosty when we arrived. Is that part of your... powers?"
Erika doesn't immediately answer Cybil's question about her bike, appearing to be musing instead. "This whole godspawn thing is rather new... How did you find out that you were, you know? Do you know who your, erm, divine parent is? Did they talk to you?" Once, or if, her questions are answered, she moves to help Chloe and Ulf with the computer.
Chase was being serious competition for the title of chatterbox, so Erika lets him talk while she takes some fruit and nut bars out of the pockets of her hiking pants. She herself would have been far sparser with information than the kid, but the cat was out of the bag now - all the cats, in fact. She manages to intersperse a question of her own, though. "Is that motorcycle outside yours? If so, in what condition did you last see it?" She is aware that she sounds like she is cross-questioning a witness, but she cannot trust these people just yet.
Erika turns around from her intense scrutiny of the office door and yelps. There was another giant! One second later, the giant speaks in Chase's voice, and noticing that the others were rather relaxed around it, as well as the conspicuous absence of the teenager... "Chase...? Is that you? How did you do that?" She casts a curious gaze on the things scavenged from the dead giant and the trolls, finding the gemstones very pretty. Good, so one obstacle down, time to move on. She clap her hands. "Alright, people, shall we?" One of her hands extends invitingly towards the office door.
"Oh wow, you guys, where did you all learn this stuff? That was amazing! Better than in the movies!" Erika lowers her rifle as the last of the trolls collapses in a fountain of blood. While her contribution to the just-concluded fight has been minimal, if non-existent, she doesn't feel too bad about it after witnessing the fantastic battle techniques that Dustin and Chase were employing; and Ulf's magical gun was definitely spectacular as well. Easing towards the office door, she calls out. "Anyone alive in there?" After a moment's thought she adds. "And human? Er... mostly human?"
Oh dear, feel better soon.
*boop*
The boys were pulling off some crazy stunts! This was like Crouching Tiger meets The Avengers; sadly, she felt neither Black Widow nor Yu Shu Lien. Perhaps their blessings were different, but she didn't feel capable of running up the walls and somersaulting on troll's heads. Or perhaps, not yet. Regretting that one missed opportunity to sign up for a capoeira class, Erika takes aim again at the closest of the trolls.
Wow, the guys were pulling off some crazy stunts! Wall-running, leaping, acrobatics... she felt woefully plain and boring with her rifle to her shoulder, taking aim. For a split second she considers trying to twirl the rifle like a cheerleader baton, but she supposes that someone had to keep a level head and not engage into flashy performances. Narrowing her eyes, she takes a breath, holds it and squeezes the trigger, aiming at the troll that hadn't benefited from the others' attention that much so far.
The fight was becoming a confused jumble. With three or four of 'us' engaged in close quarters combat with the 'them', Erika doesn't want to risk hitting unintended targets. Teeth gritted, she steps to the side, shoulder to the wall, and takes careful aim. The giant was down, but those pesky trolls were still a threat.
"Farðu til helvítis, kúkalabbi!" shouts Erika as she points her rifle at the third troll, snarling. She never cursed in English, it was unprofessional. But Icelandic, ooohh boy. What a treasure trove of creative insults there. This one is fairly mild as profanities go, but still not something you'd utter in front of your grandma.
Icelandic: "Go to hell, walking piece of s+#%!"
Ooooh, godsdamned trolls! Erika hated trolls. For most people, they were just a creature from video games, or from D&D - or the nickname given to a certain category of human scum on the internet. But in Iceland, they were more real than that. People living in remote areas didn't let their children play outside after dark. Why? Trolls. Shepherds had big, fluffy dogs to guard their sheep - not from any natural predators, since Iceland doesn't have anything bigger than foxes - but from trolls. And the Yuletide! You know, most countries have nice, friendly winter holidays traditions. But Iceland... thirteen of the bastard trolls coming to make trouble for people - slam doors, harass the sheep, steal food - damn antisocials, the lot of them.
How does speaking work in the context of ticks and such? If it's not Erika's turn, can she say something?
Erika had explored plenty of volcanic cave complexes on her visits to Iceland, so being underground didn't phase her one bit. She has a headlamp as well, one that can switch between white light and red light, in case they needed to be a bit subtle. Hah! Nothing subtle about kicking the front door down. As the creatures emerge, she takes an involuntary step back. What are these things?
I would like to swap out my Perfect Memory for something else then, if that is OK.
"Giant is probably accurate. Well, I'll let you have your fun with that fence." Erika takes a step back, unslinging the rifle from her shoulder and pointing it towards the building, in case something big and mean would charge out of it.
For my clarity: can we take stuff from Demigod at Legend 3? I see some Epic Intelligence Knacks that I rather like.
"That's, um..." Erika trails off as she looks up at Dustin, trying to picture someone so much bigger than him. "Human? How big was that werewolf... but no, I guess a werewolf wouldn't wear boots. Wow, ok. Let me think a moment." She runs through the list of mythological creatures that would fit this, admittedly sparse, profile - big, but human-shaped enough for footwear.
"This is not a ghost town, there aren't even ghosts around. It just feels so empty..." Erika whispers as they move around the deserted streets. She is not sure why she is whispering, it just seems... appropriate. She really hopes that whatever befell that motorcycle will not also affect their vehicles. Just to be safe, she moves her SUV a bit farther away from the town limits, rejoining the others on foot. She really likes this car; it is big and black and impressive. Says 'don't mess with me'. Or so she hopes.
Distracted by the concern over her car, and the cold, and wondering whether or not Sibyll will be ok without her for a few days, she seems startled by whatever it is that Dustin is pointing out.
The Paizo die roller is woefully inadequate for d10 systems. =/ I made a Discord server for peeps, if anyone wants to chat about game stuff. The picture is Mew Mew Mjölnir, which is a thing I have on my desk at work.
Gear and car ride:
Erika has no experience of shopping for weapons, so she follows Dustin's lead and picks up a combat knife (she's never used one before, but it looks wicked impressive) and a Remington - at least rifles she knows how to shoot, if only at skits. She stuffs the gym bag with spare clothes, solid hiking boots, toiletries, a couple of towels, another first aid kit and pre-packaged food that can keep a while without being refrigerated, as well as some fresh fruit that doesn't bruise easily.
Back in the car, she chats with Chloé and whoever else might join them - about her work as a prosecutor, her cat, her mother, her holidays in Iceland, the books she reads, the games she plays, the movies she enjoys. She tells Chloé of her admiration for her work - not just turning Red Sonja into a feminist icon, but her other work as well - at the clinic and at Planned Parenthood. If given the occasion, she goes on a bit of a rant about women's rights, comparing the situation in the US with the one in Iceland, talking about the pay gap, gender roles and so on. She does listen as well, and she is a very good listener, curious without being intrusive, sympathetic, open-minded. As they get closer to Bodie, Erika becomes quiet, running mental checklists over and over. Once they stop, she checks her pistol and her new rifle, making sure they are loaded and tucking spare ammo in the pockets of the utility belt she's picked up at one of the stores. Her bulletproof vest stays on, now covered by a T-shirt and hoodie rather than the immaculate white dress shirt. Her purse is securely tied to her belt. Leaving the rest in the car and locking it, she looks around.
"No, not at all, I don't mind at all, you're welcome to ride with me... in my car, I mean." Wow, that was very eloquent, Erika - well done. She digs into her purse for her car keys to try and hide her embarrassment. "Dustin, can I grab some water for our car?" Uh, 'our' car, what the hells are you doing? Stay focused.
"Is there a cape store nearby as well? I want mine in purple. Ok, ok, no more joking. This is, after all, serious. But hey, humour as a coping mechanism and all that, perfectly normal and allowed." Erika gets to her feet, ready to head out, as she remembers the one thing she still has to do. For some reason, she has a pet-sitting service on speed dial. Walking a few paces away to allow the others to continue their conversation undisturbed, she dials it. "Hey, Tiffany? Oh, hi, how's things? Uh-huh. Great. Listen, Tiffany, I have an emergency I need to attend to, and I need you to take care of Sibyll for me. Uh-huh. I don't know how many days, sorry. Yep. Yes, that's fine, we'll settle it when I get back. Listen, if it goes on beyond a week or so, take her to my mother, you have her address, right? Yes, of course, I'll ring her and give her a heads-up. You still have my key, right? Great, perfect! Give her a good hug from me, will you? Thanks a ton, you're a sweetheart! Alright, byyeee!" Turning back to the others, she picks up her unfinished soda to toast to this fantastic new chapter in her life. "As Icelanders say... Skál!'"
Erika grins back. "Perfect. I'll take you up on a gym bag, easier to carry around than a suitcase. I have a list of things I need to get, anyone else who needs to pick up essentials?" She looks around at the assembled others. She cannot help but feel excited and a little bit daring. "And how shall we call ourselves? I mean, there's The Avengers, The Fantastic Four, The Magnificent Seven, SHIELD, X-Men, Global Frequency, Doom Patrol..." she lists, with a wink at Dustin. See, geeks of a feather. "Oh, Doom Patrol, that's quite fitting, actually. Maybe we can expand on that theme."
"Well, mine is pretty spacious and I am rather attached to it, so if anyone wants to ride along... It's parked down the street." She taps on her phone some more, searching for a 24/7 store that would sell at least a few of the items she needs - toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, hydrating face cream, towels... She lifts one foot, contemplating her stiletto heels. Definitely a change of clothes and of shoes, she cannot imagine herself running from werewolves in those heels. Some sneakers, jeans, a T-shirt, a hoodie like Dustin mentioned, hair ties - this was turning out quite the shopping list. And of course, they could not forget bottled water, some sandwiches, some... wait a minute. "Dustin, do you have some bottled water in your house and some pre-packaged food we could take with us? Energy bars, maybe? Oh, and a first-aid kit, I would say. Just in case. I have one in my car, but it's pretty basic."
As the fifth member of this would-be gathering appears, Erika's eyes become huge, her mouth falls open and she surges to her feet. "Oh. My. Oh, wow. Oh. WOW." She doesn't get much coherent than that, her gaze riveted on the woman who just entered, her hand frantically searching in her purse for something, oh wow, she has to get her autograph, this is unbelievable, her icon, her idol... when the surfer kid jumps the line and does exactly that! Erika feels a stab of irrational jealousy, but his puppy-like behaviour returns her to her senses. She is a mature woman and a professional, by damn. She will not act all giggly in front of all these people, I mean, there is a place and a time for fangirling, but this is definitely not it. She retakes her seat with what dignity she can muster, but cannot help her gaze travelling frequently to the red-haired woman, and a faint blush is fairly evident on her Nordic complexion. ____________________________________
At Dustin's mention of her, Erika starts as out of a reverie. "What I do? I'm a prosecutor for the state of California. It's how Ulf and I know each other. He catches the bad people, I put them into prison." Her expression darkens for a moment. "Well, most of them." She does not elaborate further. Then the sixth person appear and everything becomes even more surreal. Talking ravens. Erika knew that corvids are exceptionally smart, but this was way beyond that. And what they were saying... this was starting to feel like something out of a high fantasy novel. The band of heroes assembles and are given a task, their ultimate goal to save the world. And the others were just rolling with it, cool as you please - well! she could hardly do less. She pulls out her own phone, already assembling a mental list of tasks. "I only need to hire a cat-sitter for Sibyll, but for the most part I'm good to go. Will probably need to stop somewhere to buy a change of clothes and a travel bag, some toiletries... But I have the essentials on me." She taps her purse where the runestones and credit cards are residing, the bulletproof vest under her shirt and the pistol in its holster at her back.
Welcome Chloe and Nick! I love Chloe's background and I think Nick could tie in neatly with Ulf and I professionally. Added the explanations for my knacks and spells in my profile. Also, waking up to 40 new posts in gameplay thread... -.-
Norse myth is so very, gloriously weird.
"Oh, it's the Icelandic glíma championship, has been going on for over a hundred years. It's a pretty big thing over there." Her eyes unfocus for a moment. "You know, I am starting to realize how much of the old ways are still kept there. I didn't pay it much mind when I was visiting, but now the pieces are starting to add together. Many people over there still believe in elves and trolls, you know that the Ministry of Public Works actually diverted the construction of a road so as not to disturb some elves living in a rock? True story. And the old gods, you know, the Norse pantheon is still worshipped there by some people, they have blót feasts and a temple and everything." She lets out a short laugh. "A woman I dated over a summer even tried to convert me." She shakes her head and grows serious again as she reaches into her purse and withdraws a worn leather bag that emits muted clunks. "And then there's these. Many people have them, use them to cast fortunes and whatnot. But these, these are the real thing." She pours out a handful of smoothly polished flat stones, each inscribed with a different rune. "My mother blessed them. My other mother... you know, Frigg." She looks at Dustin with a half-grin on her face. "I guess that makes me your step-aunt or something."
Erika's brows rise as Dustin tells his story. A gym for nerds, eh? That would explain the various geeky posters and paraphernalia around his house. Huh. Hidden depths and all that. "Glíma? I have a second cousin who does that - Pétur. He even competed in Grettisbelti, but never won. Goes to a gym called Mjölnir, of all things. Huh."
"Oh, you know. Work, mostly. The usual routine, until... this." Erika smiles again, something that lights up her features in a way that belies her general serious demeanour. She turns to the door as the bell rings. "This is turning out to be quite a gathering, isn't it? I had no idea that this was even possible, and now it turns out there's... quite a few of, well, us. Huh. Still feels very strange." Her hand drifts to her tiny purse, hanging by a chain worn diagonally across her torso. She wasn't in the habit of carrying a lot of things with her, so it had been an exercise in efficient packing to fit the bag of runes into that compact purse, but Frigg... her mother, oh gods, it was so unspeakably strange to think of her like this! had said to carry it with her at all times, so she was doing exactly that, even sleeping with it under her pillow. As the newcomer enters, Erika gets to her feet, starting to feel a little nervous. Ulf's presence was reassuring, but here were two others that she didn't know - and didn't know what they could do. She had never been much into physical things - a bit of swimming, a bit of hiking, but that was all - and she could imagine all too vividly the kind of superpowers that other scions might have. Thanks, Marvel movies.
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