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OREGRUND, SWEDEN:
'Hmmhahmmha-lalala!' Large feet pound within the mountainy forests, looking over the small town of Oregrund; each step that he takes is a thunderous quake, each hum that comes from his saliva covered lips promises of a grand meal for he and his brothers to feast upon. Token menu item for today? Longpig! Humans! In particular, merry little women who cried and remained latched upon the posts in preparation for frying.
Trees were snatched from the ground, branched snapped off with a shoring of large fingers, twigs (though large as branches) were soon created to be sharped to either poke or pick the meat from the horrible depths of their teeth.
The logs were soon smacked down with a thunderous boom, which causes the trolls to rouse up with grunts and groans and shaken clubs towards the gatherer.
'YEW MAKE TO MUCH NOISE!'
'WAKE THE MORSELS SHALL HE!'
'ME LIKE MORSELS THAT SCREAM, NIPNIPOMNOMNOM.'
The commotion does wake the three women, who look on in horror with the hopes that it was a bad dream. They were no princesses, but to be fair, they resembled Asgardian women with blonde hair and blue eyes with fair skin.
Another troll comes from the depths of the wood, dangling his own latest catch. Three of the finest men, two filled with muscles and another rotund enough to give Volstagg a run for his money.
'I founds a chewy!' The latest joiner squeals out, plucking the fat man from his cache to squeeze his belly in between his fingers.
'DESSERT! YOU BRING US TASTIES!' One troll shouts out, approaching the fat man to *POKEPOKEPOKE*
'SQUISHYSQUISHSQUISHSQUISH!'
'AUGHRHGHRHG!' The fat man hollars out!
'LETS GET HIM TO POP!'
Meanwhile, in Westchester..:
Lady Sif remained in the backyard for the duration of the afternoon; day leading into night as she works at putting together blocks of wood that was delivered from the local finery. The wood itself would be heavy to the normal woman, but she manages just fine by stacking the long pieces into the corner of the barn for the creation of wooden weaponry.
A raven flutters down, delivering a message into her hands as she unravels the tiny piece of paper, and with a slight roll of her eyes, she drops everything that she does and begins to march off to the manor.
"Thor! Heimdall sends word. A Vanir noblewoman is in trouble!" There was a slight pause in consideration, then a merry little smile that touches her lips. "At least he did not transport us away in the bluff.. or is it buff.."
Preparations, there were hardly any. Gear was assembled and weapons holstered, the BiFrost called down and up, rerouted as Heimdall would and dropped right into the middle of the forest.
The Merry Band of Assholes have arrived, right in the thick of it, surrounded by overgrowth and the stink of Troll Musk, loud laughter as well as screams and cries intermingling to create such a horrid sound.
Was the light of the bifrost that caught their attention; laughter was soon squelched with burps as the ring leader, a big leather green god-eating troll, rolls upon his hind quarters to launch himself upright with a heavy effort and a stomping of his foot.
"WHO DARES INTERRUPT MY FOOD STUFF!"
What?
Sif, her hand lifting to press her fingers against her brow, looks up towards the sky to stick her tongue out in thanks. They were placed right into the thick of it.
He knows his sister well!
*
Karnak had been visiting and meditating at Sif's when the call came. While it wasn't particularly his battle, Karnak had never been and would never become one who shied away from a worthwhile fight. Especially if he was going to get a chance to see the legendary Thor in action.
The warrior-monk strikes his fist into his palm as he takes a gauge of the world around them, his specialized abilities examining the trolls for every flaw, every weakness, their joints and pressure points laid out for him like X's on a treasure map.
And he planned to get to digging.
*
The Prince of Wolves, Hrimhari, stands in regular wolf-form at Sif's side… his head bowed and a paw covering his snout. The stench of troll likes heavy in the air and it is making the prince's eyes water.
"This one…" he starts to say, in English, "Is beginning to regret this decision." Beside him stands another wolf — mottled black and white — in a similar state. That one is Runs-in-Circles, named for… doing exactly that. Usually. And he considers himself the Denmother's (Sif's) favourite.
<This one feels wrong inside…> Circles moans in the tongue of wolves. Hrimhari glances at his offsider, then shifts into wolfman, if only to spare his nose a fraction of the stench. He looks at Sif.
"There are truly some things that one cannot… un-smell," says he, blinking tears away. "We are ready, notwithstanding, Denmother."
*
And Thor… seems to be the only one not at Sif's residence at the moment, though the comment regarding being transported 'in the bluff' does get caught as he does appear there, beside her. Heimdall does have a sense of humor after all; particularly at the possible 'brother in law's expense, Prince though he may be. Thor looks up in the direction most would to search for celestial beings, and he actually chuckles, "I would rather he avert his eyes in such a scene," as he casts another glance towards the raven-haired Sif.
Now, however, the others are also appeared- there is one that is unknown to him, and then, the Wolf Prince. "Nephew.." is given, coupled with a nod before Thor stands forward, his hammer pulled from his side.
"I know not what is about, but I am certain we will discover it in time."
Foodstuffs?
*
The scene is as follows; a kindling fire was built high and large enough to house a few humans. Boulders lining the outside, metal rods meant for turning which is held by a troll each upon either side as to where the humans were to be placed. A little cage was also fashioned upon that metal rod, which would sit upon the middle above the high rising flames to cook the tender human meat while they turn the rod and sing songs of merriment.
To the back of the trolls and in cages, three men and women each; two men, burly, fittest of the fit while another chunky one hangs in the back horrified. The women huddle around that poor soul, for he seemed to get picked on by the trolls the most. Yet the hidden vanir noblewoman smiles as soon as she sees the bifrost touch the ground, knowing that help has arrived and she wouldn't have to suffer a roasted fate.
Hopefully.
That was a glimmer of hope, right?
But even still, the captives remained huddled, whimpering and grieving, the two burly men attacking the cages with their shoulders to try to get it to fall to pieces but there was no give.
While two trolls stand and laugh at their plight, ignoring the transport of the bifrost, the four others stand and rise with as much struggle as their leader.
And they were large.
Angels regard themselves as titans, taller than the tallest skyscrapers in their human form. It is so rumored, that Asgardian Gods wear the same seeming when upon Asgard. Rumor, yes.. but here, the younger trolls stand close to twenty feet in height; tough and greasy hides with middle parts and thighs full of squish. Teeth hang from their maws as they speak, their noses pushed up to show boogs, there was even a troll who looked as if he were ill and dumb yet still had the moxy to fight the trio of jerks that invaded their luncheon.
Wooden clubs the size of Sif were smacked into their four fingered hand, as one bold one, a mouthy one takes a step forward in challenge.
'I AM GOING TO EAT YOUS ALL!' He shouts out, even letting off a roar in a threat. This..
This..
I mean this display was just -sad-!
Lady Sif leans just a touch to her side to bump shoulder to arm with Thor, a slight little grin touching upon her lips as she murmurs. "I think it may be too late for that.." And yet, Hrimhari's words causes a little shudder. "Think of fresh grass in the spring, misted by dew as the sun rises." Karnak, was given a nod. Introductions would have to come later.
For now, Sif does not draw her swords. She only reaches up to clasp Thor upon the shoulder. "I'll be back."
Ill fated words, no doubt, that has her taking a step forward, approaching the troll SO close, that she could feel the wash of breath that he heaves in her direction. Where one would think that she may challenge him to a dance off; she simply just looks up towards him. Her fingers curling into a fist as she suddenly crouches and launches herself into the air with a draw back of a fist that sends a crushing uppercut to the troll that has him sailing.
'AIIIIYEEEEEEEE!'
It's on like donkey kong!
*
Karnak never minds presenting his credentials, standing still as another troll charges directly at him, hefting up a massive club over his head, "I Am Karnak Mander-Azur, Royal Blood of Attilan, Magister of the Tower of Wisdom, Master of the Black Abbey, called The Shatterer! Surrender and the beating will be brief!"
Not really expecting a response, he waits to move at the last second, stepping calmly just to the right to evade a blow from the troll's club and then throwing a spinning palm strike that draws a howl of pain as he casually snaps the troll's wrist with a precisely aimed blow, leaving its massive hand limp and useless.
"Your choice. Now you shall suffer."
*
"Sire," Hrimhari says to Thor in response, giving a respectful bow of his head. At the challenge of the trolls, both the prince and his wolf-escort turn, and bare their teeth.
<This one is almost embarrassed for them…> Circles notes as he snarls. <Almost.> The prince glances aside at him and waits for Sif's attack before joining in with his own. <Harry the Stench-Legs,> he orders his companion. <This one shall go for the prisoners.>
Then, a silver streak of fur (Hrimhari) flies at the face of the nearest Troll, while the mottled wolf aims for its legs. There's a scream — loud, inhuman, bloodcurdling — as Circles' fangs close around something between the troll's legs, beneath its loincloth.
<Fenris' mane…> the prince exclaims, raking at the troll's eyes.
*
Now, those words Thor has heard before. For a long moment, he stares at his Sword Maid as she sets her hand upon his shoulder and goes off to do battle. Brows rise at the gesture, and he grins lopsidedly. This… this is a game played upon the battlefield between himself and Sif. The Prince gestures with a sweeping hand, "By all means.." and he is more than happy to watch, more than expecting that he'll be tagged in when one or more falter at the fight.
Still, that doesn't keep Thor from beginning to watch for others that may be coming, that may reach and press an attack that is unexpected.
*
'YOU HIT COOKIE!' One of the trolls cry out! That meant it was time for a fight. And there was no delay in this battle; proclimations were made and war cries sung out into the night amist the men banging against the bars and the vanir noblewoman screaming in delight.
The troll that was knocked into the air crashes into the side of the mountain, creating a terrible tremble that draws boulders to fall from the top. It was a long, long ways up, so there was still time for the battle to continue, but the cave hole that his ass was implanted into was nearly broken and crumbling soon.. yet whatever was inside, created a terrible war of discontent at being awoken.
But nevermind that!
The troll was no match for Karnak's deftness. The snap of his wrist has him dropping to a knee, but one could give weight to the ferocity of the trolls. They took a licking and kept on kicking (until one of them wet themselves in embarrassment)! The club was dropped upon the ground with a loud thud; the other good hand rising with a fist clenched to try to smash Karnak upon the head. Mince meat with you, Shatterer!
Hrimhari's target was caught unawares, however.. a sickly, chuckled-like scream drawing from his lips as he begins to bat and flail at the air, his steps faltering, stumbling over the makeshift spit-roaster that his crew of brothers made, kicking ember, rock and fire all over the place, setting a tiny fire to a brush and even flames towards the two trolls that stood awatch and on guard!
'HO NO! HO NO!' One of the 'guards' cry out, hopping upon his feet, stamping at the fire. 'OW OW OW!'
'EEE! I RATHER FIGHT!' The troll cried out, even grasping the top of the cage to try to pick and move their food out the way. Cooking humans was a process, goddamn it! They cannot be crispy!
And while Thor stands a-watch, the Leader does so in turn. His big, massive arms wrapped about his chest, looking upon his people as they slowly lose their fight one by one. He would sigh, if he felt a little bit of emotion towards this entire debacle. But the only thing that is currently pissing him off is that he cannot eat!
Sif, however, was having the time of her life. She took the whole 'Look Thor! No swords!' approach, the one that was knocked upon his bottom tries to struggle with a stand, but with a run and a jump into the air, the Lady soars feet first to plant both of her boots into the belly of the troll, widening the cave entrance and tumbling herself and the thing into the depths of darkness.
And if anyone is worried about Sif? They would be glad to hear the hearty cackle of the woman and a few choice words..
« THESE COMMENTS ARE RATED NC-17! »
*
Karnak steps aside to evade the blow that comes his way, this time causing the troll to strike the ground harmlessly. He's done with speech for the moment, having made his introduction and his offer. Now, he is all action.
He leaps up and runs up the troll's arm, springing from its bicep to drive his knee into the bridge of its nose, likely breaking it before driving a fist into each of the enormous threat's eyes.
*
Thor laughs as he watches Sif's battle prowess without her sword. It is a game they play; to create small challenges where there may be little to concern them within the battle proper. He's not concerned that his Sword Maid will do anything of the sort that she had done before. They'd mended their ways, and it was looking more and more certain that Sif would be the next to sit upon Asgard's Golden throne.
Karnak's words are recalled, however. Attilan. A name he's obviously heard before, and a promise is recalled.
But later.
There is one that echoe's his posture and bearing, and Thor watches him, a broad smile still sitting upon his face. Clearly he is enjoying battle far more than the giant is… and with grand reason.
"Call your army off and release your prisoners and we shall not kill you!" is called out. "Do this before more of your lives are lost!"
*
Whatever Runs-in-Circles has in his maw in the troll's loincloth… he doesn't let go. The troll continues flailing about maniacally, its arm coming down hard on the sharp iron rod being used as a spit-roaster.
The impact on one side causes the rod to flip end over end sideways… until embedding itself in the chest of another troll.
It… might be too late for that one.
Hrimhari, meanwhile, leaps away from the troll's head and toward the back where the prisoners are kept, landing on his feet between the humans and their captors. Snarling.
"These are not for you," he tells the trolls in a horrid snarl, one worthy of Fenris himself.
One of the humans pales. "Is-is… the talking wolf going to eat us instead??"
Hrimhari tries not to roll his eyes, but gives the human (the corpulent male) a flat stare. "You stink of junk-food. This one is dieting." Midgardian humour! …ish.
*
Harmlessly? It wasn't harmless. That hard punch was meant to pulverize Karnak and instead, he manages to hurt his own hand with the force of the blows. There was a deafening crackle, another howl as he leans to the side, his arm used as an anchor for his nose to be crushed and cracked, his head snapping back which throws a line of green blood that sails over Karnak's head to wet the fires of the brush behind him.
He was teetering, he still had a little give, even if he were to flail his lame arms at his attacker, he -will- try to eat him! He still had teeth!
Keen ears could hear it, the way Sif's fist punch into the troll; the sound of fist smacking against flesh echoing upon the cave, caressing the already sounds of battle outside, along with a few spittled words of.. 'Do.. not.. eat.. people!' She wasn't going for the kill yet. The Crowned Prince did not give word. She already knows that negotiations and threats were being passed, but this was time for play.
*THWACK!* 'YOU!'
*CLOMP!* "OW!" Sif yells out. "That was your last.."
And then the howl of the troll. Someone probably got kicked in the jimmies.
The ringleader watches on, rocking back and forth upon his heels. There seemed to be a modicum of intelligence there as he settles his eyes upon the Prince. "I don't care." He booms out. Surely, he had his merry band of assholes too, though renamed to idiots. This was going to be a fight for the ages. "Take up arms, Prince Thor Odinson of Asgard! I KNOW WHO YOU ARE!" And with those words said, his long reach extends to the back of him, reaching for the cave mouth, his grip curling up to extend the entrance with a snatch of a rock and a throw towards Thor. This serves one of two purposes.. distraction, and an awakening..
Hrimhari's wolf companion sought purchase against the low and hanging dangles, the troll was flailing still, his knees grown weak, his hands slapping against the ground in a tantrum! He was done! He was so done! Eating people wasn't worth it! He shall be a fisherman and lame before the night is out!
Make it stop! For the love of all that is high and holy and beloved! PLEASE!
The trolls near Hrimhari himself cringe, seeing the fright that their companion is suffering due to bitage of the jimmies. One hand lifts to back away, the other with the cage shakes it threateningly towards the wolf.
'I'LL THROW THEM! SMOOSH THEM ON YOUR HEAD! GET AWAY!'
*
ROLL: Thor +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 3
*
Karnak corrects the mistake of leaving the troll his teeth as he slides down, gripping at an oversized whisker and kicking into the troll's mouth, knocking a couple of teeth down his throat. When they catch there and choke him, the troll rears his head back and allows Karnak to throw a final blow right into the hollow of its throat, crushing its larynx around its own teeth and silencing it as it finally tumbles down and leaves the philosopher-monk dusting off his hands.
"Next."
*
ROLL: Sif +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 80
*
Thor doesn't see them giving up anytime soon, and Thor looks to his counterpart briefly before he calls out to Sif without removing his gaze from the large troll. "None will be spared."
With those words, Thor reaches back in order to throw Mjolnir to stay the large creature's hand, to keep him from throwing, but the dirt, rock and gravel do fly through the air, and the Prince … proceeds to be buried under the debris thrown at him. Just not fast enough, or aware enough, perhaps.. or he's simply too distracted by the Prince protecting those in the cage from being eaten by the trolls.
Regardless… that thrown rock and dirt hit the Thunderer squarely.
*
A flailing fist connects with Runs-in-Circles' back, eliciting a yelp from the wolf and causing him to let go. Fortunately for the lovable lupine, he is not seriously injured and manages to scoot between the troll's legs — making for Hrimhari's position.
The Prince meanwhile stares back the troll threatening to toss the cage full of intended meals-to-go at him. "There will be no 'smooshing'," he tells the troll, just as Circles' teeth sink into the troll's Achilles-tendon.
Hrimhari makes his move.
The Wolf-Prince leaps as the troll arches backward, and goes for the creature's wrist-tendons with both his claws at the same time. With luck, the cage will simply fall… rather than get tossed like a salad…
*
Troll down. Two of them. One rocking back and forth over the fire that was once roaring, cooking, crisping.. stinking up the entire area. It was a horrible thing Circles' had done to the beast, but it was done. Karnak's went down gruesome as well. And even though the other near Hrimhari was already running for the hills; the last remaning one yelps out in a sheer cry as he whips around and drops the cage with a half-hearted toss. Thankfully, the cage goes no where, but the metal, flimsy as it was, bends. It bends enough for one of the burly men to pry the bar open, chivarly first, with a hand towards a maiden to allow her freedom first. But wisely? They stay behind, there were trolls still around!
Thor's words were a godsend, for as soon as the decree was heard.. there was a loud crack from the depths of the darkness. Perhaps that itself went unheard, for the snapping of the cavemouth and the throwing of the rock had Sif's eyes lifting in shock. "THOR!" She cries out, bloodied and green as she was, preparing to head out of the cave to lend aid..
Perhaps Karnak could sense it. Perhaps they all. For something that lurked within the darkness begins it's rumbling war cry as the ground begins to shake.
One trounce..
Two trounce..
Three..
Sif turns towards the darkness and widens her eyes as she sees..
NOPE!
She comes running out the cave, full blast. There was -no- way in hell she would take such a monstrosity down! "ALL YOURS THO—.." Fuck, epic words lost because he was trapped under rocks! Not to mention, the snatch by the waist of Sif by the ring-leader who tosses her high into the air with a gleeful cry of victory!
*
Karnak moves swiftly to try and free Thor as the rocks rain down. He moves with startling efficiency, his unique skills letting him shatter rock after rock, almost burrowing with the ferocity of his attack. He doesn't fear the troll on his own, no, but freeing the God of Thunder will make their task more efficient. As for Sif, he can do little for her situation, but, then, the Warrior Goddess has a habit of landing on her feet. He learned that all too well when they sparred.
*
When Hrimhari smells the ogre, he turns around — standing on the face of a troll just after ripping out its throat. Tensing, his claws dig into the dead creature's nose and cheek, distorting its face and drawing more blood, and he growls at Runs-in-Circles.
<Out. You are injured.>
The other wolf obeys instantly.
Hrimhari hops down to the ground and lets his paws sink into the thin soil. Calling upon the magic of the Seidr — for the first time in… millennia — he summons roots to crack the earth around Thor, pushing between boulders and slowly nudging some of them aside.
It is not much, but it is something. Turning to the humans, the prince growls in English: "It is time to leave. Those who can run, run; those who cannot… ride upon me." And he shifts into a much larger wolf to help the prisoners escape.
*
'THOR!'
He can hear his name from under the pile, and he pushes Mjolnir through the rubble first before he, too appears with Karnak's aid. Dirty but seemingly unharmed. This has put him behind in the battle, but it is of no—
The ground begins to shake with each pounding… footstep? Thrum? "My pleasure!" sounds from the Crown Prince. Of course he's cocksure; even after having to get dirt and rubble from his hair later.
That, however, has to be put in abeyance as Sif is grabbed and tossed high. If she is thrown, and is left alone, yes.. she could easily land once again, but he's not certain he wants to leave that to chance. It would have been a more difficult maneuver without Karnak's and Hrim's aid, but thus freed, he's given the time needed to take to the air in order to reach out to catch Sif and get her away from any who might take the opportunity of her falling.
*
ROLL: Sif +rolls 1d50 for a result of: 45
*
Hrimhari seemed to be the star of this show; the humans and the vanir noble watched in awe as he easily dispatched the remaining 'guard', and even though they were afraid of his seeming, they still eagerly obeyed his words. The women took to running, one of the men hoisting them up upon his shoulders, cutting the path through the woods as the larger man attempts to step forward towards Hrimhari. Gosh, and he was big!
Mr. Tubs attempts to latch onto his mane, even attempts to hoist himself up with a grunt. He slides down again and tries one more time, even attempting to heft himself with a hop and a belly flop against Hrim's ribs, but he slides off and tumbles to the ground.
'I'll.. I'll walk.'
Mr. Tubs gets up, and wanders towards the path that the others took, shamed. But there was inspiration there, he was muskles like Thor and Karnak. And thus begins a life changing endeavor..
As for the leader, he beats his chest in a warcry, his club taken up, a gnarled thing with jagged and rusted spikes upon the body. It was a weapon meant for distruction, hardily built, and not easily broken. (He hasn't, obviously, met Mjolnir and the Shatterer. Even the teeth of Hrimhari!) And it was lifted into the air to herald the arrival of a new foe..
..a pet..
..a beastial thing that emerges from the darkness; red eyes first, large fists upon the ground, knees dug into the dirt. Made lame, made dumb, made killing machine and eater of Gods and men alike.
It was a fucking ogre!
It lets out a roar, and whilst Sif was in the air, content with her fate of becoming one with the highest tree in the valley, she was caught! In an embrace that has her latching onto her love with a grand smile of relief and a glance downward. So he heard her cry. Her words hadn't gone unmissed, and with a lean and a kiss against his cheek, she gestures towards the bestial thing as if to grant a wish of a battle to fill the ages.
"Let me go. You have work to do."
The leader was waiting. The Shatterer and Hrimhari will be put to the test, he was going to leave an insufferable fate to the Thunderer.
*
Karnak shakes his head, "And they call my kind Inhuman," he says. He picks up a rock from those he's shattered, holding it in his hand, the piece of stone easily the size of a fist. On impulse, he sees the incoming warbeast, then looks down at the stone in his hand.
And then he spins, plants a foot and throws a palm strike, releasing that stone at striking point, projecting that rock like a bullet right towards the head of the ogre, a sniper-shot of Asgardian slate.
*
The Prince of Wolves stands there patiently while one Two-Leg He tries and fails, tries and fails… and tries and fails to climb on top of him. Were it not for Hrimhari's naturally meek personality, he might have marched out and left the human Two-Leg…
Still, he waits it out — and does not leave until the other Two-Legs are safely astride him. "Hold on tightly," he warns them — and then leaps toward (hopeful) freedom, where his companion-wolf, Runs-in-Circles, sits waiting.
Hrimhari does not turn back for the fight until each Two-Leg is safely away.
*
Thor lands with his Lady Sif, and sets her gently by before he's ready to enter the fray for real. A laugh exits the Thunderer, something low and deep before he inclines his head in a bow after her kiss, "As you wish, my Lady. There is work to do."
Turning about now, he examines the battle 'field', such as it is, and when Karnak tosses his stone towards the ogre, Thor throws his hammer directly after it. Nail. Hammer. If the bit of rock wasn't to find any depth, having Mjolnir push it further could only aid their cause.
"We grow weary of these games!"
*
ROLL: Sif +rolls 1d50 for a result of: 31
*
ROLL: Thor +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 33
*
'Wow, you are strong!' One of the women croons against the man who has her.
'Incredibly strong!' The other one muses, her hand striking down the mans chest.
'Lady, we were almost eaten!' The man retorts.
The other follows jealously, eye-rolling completely as he takes his perch atop of Hrimhari and assisting the others upon his back. Sure, Mr. Tub's was going to walk it out, but he too felt a little pang of jealousy there..
'Thank god I'm married to Helga..' Those words, make him break out into tears.
(Helga was a manly woman, who had more muscles than Thor. And she often worked him like a horse and fed him like an oversized baby. He was miserable.)
With Sif upon the ground then, her hand draws up to clasp above her heart as the Prince bows. And she watches the warriors with awe, her fight done. And the blood, getting rather smelly and thick. There was a thought to bathe in bleach after this fight..
And yet, the Ogre, large as he was, gnashed his teeth at the air. The steele collar about his neck hugged the thick stump tightly. The lock upon it jangled like a ghost in the night as he drug his knuckles against the ground, preparing for the attack. It roars once..
..rears back..
Karnak's pitch with the rock lands dead upon the middle of his forehead..
But it was all too quick! To add insult to injury, Mjolnir follows swiftly like a steadfast, thunderous fist, piledriving that rock home! The Ogre's mouth hangs slack; a slow crawling motion that sends a loud snappling crack into the air! First, there was the crack of his skull with the hardy pitch. Then, with the /binking/ of the hammer against his forehead, his neck collapses into his chest cavity, head flattened!
The leader of the trolls looks on; his mouth hung slack in shock. His meaty hand stretched out to point towards the ogre, a complete and total loss for words!
"HUUURRRH!" The troll leader practically belts out, gesturing towards the ogre, and then towards Thor and Karnak! "HURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRH!" (Trollspeak: What the F—!?)
And there was a sound, a sound behind the two men and not too far from Hrimhari, Lady Sif giving a slow clap, as if moved by the display. And yet? That slow clap leads into a bellow of a laughter because Sif? She was cracking the -hell- up!
*
Karnak slowly approaches, his strides even and measured. He sees no need to rush - the Troll Leader is broken in some way, his ego fracturing underneath the weight of his favorite pet's death. Karnak could see it crumbling, just as easily as he could see the slight catch in the troll's knee or the remnants of a bruise at his temple which signified a weak spot in his skull.
"You may crush him now, Thunderer, or show mercy. He is not worthy of my fists."
*
<This one will rip out your throat, Stench-Leg — ,> Hrimhari goes to tell the troll leader… only to turn and gape, open-mawed and everything, at Lady Sif — known affectionately among the wolves as 'Denmother'.
Also: 'The She Who Never Laughs'.
That moniker isn't entirely true — an exaggeration — still, hearing Sif's laughter is enough to elicit a joined 'huh?' from both wolves who then exchange glances.
"The point of this jest is lost on Hrimhari," the prince tells Sif in English. "Are we going to remove its throat or not? This one defers to thee… and needs a bath."
<No bath shall save poor Runs-in-Circles from the taste in his mouth,> says the other wolf forlornly; Circles is busy pawing at his tongue, and making hacking noises that eventually lead to his throwing up all over the ground.
Troll's Ballsack is not for consumption.
Also: Keep Away From Eyes.
If retching persists, please consult your Healer.
*
The push home of the stone into the forehead is beyond measure. It shows that the Thunderer can well think upon his feet in the midst of battle, making one attack that may look ineffectual ultimately successful in the end.
Brows rise at Karnak's words, but they're passed upon with no rejoinder. Instead, he grins lopsidedly at Sif, and when she begins that slow clap, his hand balls into a fist and his arm crosses his chest in salute to her before he looks back to the poor mourning troll leader.
"Speak now of your surrender and depart these lands, Troll!" Or, well… there is that underlying 'or else'. But never let it be said that the Crown Prince of Asgard isn't fair! Ish. Mostly.
Glancing back to the Prince of Wolves, Thor shakes his head. "We shall wait for the answer, nephew. I am certain that due consideration will be given and they will depart. If they do not, well.."
*
The laughter in battle; Karnak and Thor would know it well. Whether it was during Thor's time, with Sif fighting at her side, or Karnak and his own moments of battle where he bore witness to irony and pleasure. That is all in Sif's laugh, victory. With a quick and well timed blow; blows that seemed so simple and yet so effective. A strike that could quell enemy armies into kneeling out of pure shock and all. They had done it.
The troll leader stood ashamed. Terrified. Surely he heard of Thor, who hasn't in their world? The Thunderer who flies through the air, the mighty hammer, Mjolnir, He Who Cries to the Heavens and summons down the striking light that smites!
You add in the Shatterer, guard of Atillan, nobleman. And they were a force to be reckoned with!
And let us not forget Hrimhari and his companions, who willingly put themselves in the danger to the point they ended the bloodline of terror. Berries chewed and mawled, and burnt to a crisp. He who thinks of the Two-Legs first and not of himself. Honorable.
However, the Troll Leader does not kneel in the face of all of their mights. He could only stumble back, thrown. He was being shown mercy, though.. this was no mercy to him. It was like a death. A death..
The large club drops to the ground, his meaty shoulders hang in defeat, the clear look of shock still upon his features as he rumbles a quiet apology and turns. There was no looking back. He was humiliated, done. Over.. and it was a sad sight to see..
..if it wasn't for Sif's uproarous laughter at his back. One that makes him turn-tail to run into the thick of the trees to make plans to lea—-..
"Oh, my Frigga.. I wish you could see this!" Sif cries out, clapping her hands still, bending at the waist to plant her hands upon her knees to breathe it out.
*
Karnak doesn't seem particularly moved by the Troll's sad sack routine. The beast should be humiliated, after all. He was pathetic and his people were pathetic and they were beaten senseless for being pathetic.
"Pathetic," Karnak murmurs as he makes his way over towards the other, quirking an eyebrow at Sif's laughter. Strange woman.
*
The Wolf-Prince stands up.
As silver-furred werewolf, carrying himself with the nobility of stance and attitude one might expect of royalty. He looks disappointed — at the troll-chief — but swivels a single ear in Sif's direction.
Followed by an arched eyebrow over a golden eye.
Then he looks at Karnak.
"This one agrees. Thou hast the gratitude of Hrimhari and all wolves for thine aid in this matter… by what name art thou known, Two-Leg?"
<Is the He's head meant to be so… like an — ,> the other wolf begins to say, before Hrimhari cuts him off with a glare.
<We are not calling the He 'Egg-Head'. Silence. That one is royalty also — you will show him due respect.>
Runs-in-Circles hangs his head, contemplating eating his own vomit… and then turns away, absolutely adamant that doing so would be a very, very bad idea. Hrimhari looks back at Karnak.
"You fight as one who Sees."
*
Thor watches the display, knowing full well that there would be no more fighting this day, and his smile broadens until he, too, begins to laugh. Striding towards the Sword Maid, he elbows her playfully and it's most definitely in that grin there will be stories in the hall of this fight.
"Come, Master Karnak. I invite you back to the Lady Sif's homestead where we will have food and drink prepared!" is boomed. "Nephew.. return with us as well and we shall speak of the things that have captured your attention. I have learned some things of Midgard and would seek your aid on a small matter or two."
*
Sure, Sif was a very strange woman. But she's had her moments. And a moment was now. At showing true happiness after a battle has been won. It was won before the Troll Leader even decided to retreat just by the look of his face alone. Hrimhari's words draw her to quiet however, yet Thor's laughter picks it up again. The nudge was met with a false stumble of a step, and a lash out to grip his vambrace within her own hands to steady herself.
"Aye. I have already summoned Hilda in preparation for our victory. She shall have stores of meat and mead prepared and ready!" Jovial, good moods. It was destined to be a feast that would make all of Asgard look on in jealousy. And only to be shared by four! (Unless Frick and Frack join the fray.)
"Little Paw, bring my babies. All of them. There shall be boar for them to hunt and feast upon. I shall lead the charge while you, the Prince, and the Shatterer discuss business." Granted, Sif would love to stay and listen, but she'd rather tend to the wolves, the horses, and her own need to draw bow.
"Come close. I shall deliver us home." Her hand reaches behind herself to withdraw her favored blade, in preparation to wisk them away from such a.. smelly canvas.
*