Floki (
gods_that_haunt_me) wrote2015-03-15 03:21 am
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Entry tags:
test drive / milliways
A tall, lanky man, seemingly made up entirely of long lines and angles, wanders into the bar through the back door.
He's been out all day, exploring the forest. Listening to the trees.
(They were quite talkative.)
The waitrats scatter as he crosses the room. They probably don't like the hatchet tucked into his belt. Or the knife. Or the sword.
He snickers at their fright. He's harmless! Really!
(No, he isn't.)
"Lady Bar, a cup of mead, if you please," he says in Old Norse. A horn cup appears, and he takes a swig.
He's been out all day, exploring the forest. Listening to the trees.
(They were quite talkative.)
The waitrats scatter as he crosses the room. They probably don't like the hatchet tucked into his belt. Or the knife. Or the sword.
He snickers at their fright. He's harmless! Really!
(No, he isn't.)
"Lady Bar, a cup of mead, if you please," he says in Old Norse. A horn cup appears, and he takes a swig.
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"So this is where you came when you died? This is your Valhalla?"
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"The gods must have sent you here for a reason. It is your fate. Perhaps in your afterlife, you were meant to have a purpose among these people here."
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