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Note: Heimdall, the watcher of Asgard, is played by Rogue.
The basement of the Baxter Building has been converted into a mini-Nidavellir workshop slash living area for a certain dvergr prince who has things to do. But between doing things, he tinkers. And apparently he doesn't always finish: there's various chunks of metal carefully shaped and etched with runes *all over*. Its like he has Runesmith-ADHD. At the moment, there's two Anduvins. There's the Anduvin the dwarf, with the beard split into a pair of gem-encased braids, and then there's the modern Anduvin who is tall and human sized. That last one is working on forging something: clank, clank, clank, goes his hammer into the forge way on the corner. The whole space has been carefully designed to provide everything a dwarf prince might need to craft while keeping it covert— so the clanking oddly doesn't carry, as the hammer is rune lined. The heat from the forge doesnt' carry, as the forge is rune lined. Over at another desk the dwarf Anduvin is carefully etching a line of runes in a copper… well, really, it looks like a small cat sized version of Ratatosk.
Clank, clank, clank.
The dwarf prince might only have concerns about his work. Beating away on metal and cutting gems, shaping things together, are more important than other distractions. Are dwarves even genetically disposed to distraction? Their brain structure may not allow for it.
Some things cannot be ignored. Not when the magnitude of their being starts on the ground with a blackening shape of interlocking, chained knotwork. Not a permanent change, appropriately, but the winding pattern belongs to a common culture. Golden Asgard loves its patterns as much as their favourite craftsmen. Smoke rises up from the slight charry pattern, smoke in a distinctly copper hue tilting to gold, shot by bits of chartreuse in the building circle. It's the nearest thing to a knock that a man who controls a multidimensional passageway can achieve.
Security protocols writ in ancient runes come alive in several constructs around the room— primarily the large one that is semi-sentient and looks like a non-dwarf Anduvin. But also a pair of hummingbirds and dragon flies. Anduvin blinks, looking up from his runework, but it doesn't take long for the prince to recognize the pattern of the Bifrost.
And so, setting aside what he's working on, Anduvin rises up to his full (not very impressive) height, and approaches the pattern — careful to stay well away even while he approaches. "Security, off." he announces, and the constructs go into a passive state— except the suit that goes back to forging. Clank, clank, clan.
"Anduvin Eitrison recognizes the call of Asgard and acknowledges." he says in formal tones.
The Bifrost spins around him, and the torrential burst of the spectrum blocks all sight of the dwarf's laboratory. Brilliant colour shoots upwards and brings the faint smell of good ores and clean foundries. Then gravity simply ceases to be as he's shuttled immediately up. Whatever up means when linking the dimensions of Yggdrasil.
The disorienting effect cannot be helped for those not carrying favour of Heimdall or the royal blood. But the landing comes softly rather than harsh. A celestial observatory greets him, constantly churning discs moving in their own harmonies to the cosmic beyond. No hint of the external cosmos greets Anduvin, only a vast platform where a very tall man with skin singed the richest mahogany stands eternally on guard. A horn at his belt is legendary; it will sing Ragnarok and the worlds' ends. His gauntlets grip a sword pushed pointdown into the floor, a place slotted to the very rainbow itself.
"Be thou welcome to Asgard, prince of Nidavellir." Resonant tones permeate the formal tenor. Turning his head, Heimdall gives the faintest inclination of his head. His eerily illuminated eyes probably don't need the metal housing of the building to prevent him seeing all there is to see.
The dvergr prince has never himself been to Asgard, though he knows of the realm: still, he looks about warily for a moment. He's not sure if its day or night in the gods realm, but assumes at least he's safe from the deadly rays of the sun here in the chamber of the bridge. He gives a slight bow to Heimdall, "Greetings, Heimdall of Asgard. Am I to be summoned before the High King for some purpose? I note, my lord, that I do not have diplomatic authority from my father and can not speak for Stoneborn or their King."
For reference: https://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/marvelmovies/images/5/5f/Heimdall%27s_Observatory.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20131018141851
Heimdall is a man of bearing in the classic golden armour of Asgard, perpetually girded for trouble. With both princes on Midgard, understandably so. His posture has a martial bearing, precise to the point of stick-up-the rumours being commonplace in taverns the realms round. "I am bound by honour to the High King," he says gravely. "No summons or command comes from on high to deliver you or dictate his will upon you. I act for another purpose." No sun shines here in the sparkling gates of Asgard's far outpost, no threat. "You dwell upon Midgard. Have you encountered either of the High King's sons in your journeys?"
Anduvin looks more relaxed, at that. He's not precisely *afraid* of the All-Father for he's done nothing to earn his wrath, but only a fool isn't a little it, anyways. And the dvergr prince is no fool. Still, he relaxes. But he does clarify somewhat carefully, "I am on a mission for my father, and at present that mission finds me on Midgard, but I would be careful to point out this is temporary." He nods his head then, "But yes, I have encountered the Crown Prince and his brother." He hesitates, "In fact, it… ahh." He hesitates, uncertain, "My lord Heimdall, are you aware that the Lady Hela has designs upon Prince Loki's life? She has bent the ljosalfar Kai to her purposes and intends to use him to take the prince before it is her due. I have become… involved… in this situation."
For a time, he is silent up there on the podium. His hands leave the crossguard of the sword and the Watcher descends the steps. Their height difference, Vanir and dvergr, is patently unfair and the horned helm only accentuates it. Still, his stiffness in proper parade rest is not meant to be intimidating or unkind. "Good," Heimdall nods upon hearing Anduvin knows of the two Aesir princes. "The princes have their own difficulties. They do not go unwatched upon my vigil." His unblinking citrine eyes scour the space along the gleaming walls, gears turning so slowly in harmony with his own thoughts. "The Queen of Hel has not violated her oaths. I am not her judge. It is upon me to see the princes' safety. Both of them. Have you not told the Crown Prince of what was told to you?"
"Not as of yet, though it is what I intended to do as soon as I could pin him down. I am crafting a device to give Kai the ability to technically fulfill his obligation to the Lady Hela without, in fact, fulfilling it." Dwarven tricks. They never quite play fair, the dwarves. But they have their honor. Anduvin nods his head slowly, "As a delaying tactic; it is my hope that the Crown Prince and the others will find a way around the… situation."
"Much that is seen, prince, is not truly there." Heimdall walks a broad circuit to face the dvergr. "A custom your people know as well as mine. We rely upon our enemies failing to notice. We seldom look within our own houses at the crooked frame or the absent book."
The runesmith prince crosses his arms over his chest, giving a nod to the Guardian of Asgard. "There is wisdom to your words, Heimdall of Asgard. Still, though, I would know this other purpose for which you summoned me. If it is to aide the princes? I will gladly do so, as I can— my mission is of importance to all of the Nine Realms and can not be set aside— but neither does that mission consume me entirely. The alliance between the Nidavellir and Asgard is important to my people, though."
A certain pause follows. Whatever he is, the Watcher of the Bifrost is not a hasty man. He does not speak impulsively… most of the time. The Warriors Three and Thor probably have a different view, and Sif his sister beyond that. "No power breaks the All-Father's peace," Heimdall says. "What is claimed by Alfheim is not confirmed. Until such proofs are found, hands and swords are stayed. Asgard does not interfere freely with the lower realms." Or the higher, which leaves only two. He works his jaw from side to side. "I caution you to see to your own house. Look true around you. The Aesir are mighty and courageous. Our Crown Prince — and his brother — have many enemies, not all plainly so. Nidavellir's sons are known for their clarity."
Anduvin stares at Heimdall for a long moment, and he inclines his head, "I will do as you say, Heimdall. I am born of the Mountain and the Mountain is, in all ways, steady and a reliable place to set your foot along a path."