A Trip to the World Tree (AQ)

GM: Adam
Players: Adam, Lars
Synopsis: Adam and Lars head to the Plane of Yggdrasil for some edumication. It is a very brief trip!
Date: 07/06/2070


The silver-blue haired mage of Haven ruffles his daughter's hair once before mentioning to her that there will likely be a visitor. Adam gives her instructions on how to direct the person to Roosevelt and that he will meet up on the Threshold.
After this, the mage descends into his Aquatic Obsevatory. Sitting at the center pool, with water running all around him, he slips out of his body and projects to the Threshold. The Threshold is a vast abyss of darkness— with a single distant star that glimmers with hope and guidance.

Lars makes his way to Haven Island, after having spoken to Adam the other night and dug around. Just as he's arriving, he watches Rush's form wisked off into the portal. The auburn haired viking blinks a little, and progresses slowly up to the spirit. "Hey. That's.. quite the trick! I haven't been off on the planes since Odin… well recruited me, I guess would be the word. I don't suppose you have a fancy for mead?" Lars starts dipping into his pockets rummaging around for alternate things to offer.

And the spirit does assist those that require a gate. "He" is rather wordless— directing Rush to the bonfire pit on the Haven islet and entering a pact with him. With that— a rift emerges which allows the forms to pass through.

After some time floating in the abyss with other mages, there is a booming voice in the distance. It is distinctly Nordic sounding and possibly drunken. "Aha— whelps! Who dares thinks ye can simply enter the domain of the strong and the mighty?"
There is a pause as the voice continues. "Well well. Mayhap you do have the mettle here. Amongst you is a murderer and an accountant." There is a loud guffaw, "Two of the worst types of people."
Suddenly a large rock appears before the group, "A simple feat of strength shall confirm what it is I know."

"Feet of strength? But I bring no troll!" Lars guffaws slightly as he floats in the void, looking around semi-confusedly. He makes as though he's swimming, trying to get either a sense of direction or place.

Adam's astral form is that of a blue-white persona. It radiates a soft light as it hovers there. Looking over towards Lars, the man chuckles, "No. I believe he means personal feats." The mage is familiar with these quests. Motioning a hand to the boulder, Adam flies over and begins to push, "As for getting your 'footing' you just have to imagine yourself standing."

The boulder keeps rolling as the ground beneath where it lays gives way to actual ground. The more the two push on it, the more the surrounding fades from some darkness to an actual, substancial location. Dirt finds it's place at thier feet and suddenly there is a gust of fresh air. Sun peeks over the top of the rock as the sound of birds chirping are heard.
Behind them now is simply a cave, and they stand outside of it. Not a great thing as they pushed a rock right into the middle of a village of very angry, very stocky clansmen. They clang thier axes together and charge at the intruders.
Sensing the suggestions given him by the other mage here, Lars focuses, and his feet find purchase on the ethereal terrain. He then moves over to a smaller rock, sensing it to be designated for him. He blinks as he bends down, picking it up, and looks from it to the other mage, to the vague direction of the voice. "Really? Well, okay I guess. Going easy on a first timer?" He smirks. His own form is that of a warrior, clad in chain linked mail, a bear skin laid over his shoulders. On his left hip is a hammer, and strapped to his back is an axe.

On a physical plane, Adam looks more like— well— Adam. He seems rather keen on his original appearance, if the Illusionist really has that as his appearance. "Its more in my nature to seek and trade knowledge," explains the man as he turns from Lars to the inhabitants. Popping out a handblade from a seemingly natural hand, he notes, "The Metaplanes pose a series of tests to those seeking something from it. This, for example, is one of it. If I had to 'guess', I would say this is battle— or spirit."

Unpredictable indeed. The boar and party itself sit extremely close to the World Tree, Yggdrasil. Man sages live here along with great warriors willing to impart wisdom of strength and of soul.
"Aye. Scandanavia, is the old country in question." He inclines his head to one side. "Although, I think the custom carried here, to the states, with some of the exploratory Scandanavians. I found a hunting lodge up in the mountains. Hoping I can make it an aquisition, but waiting on zoning and regulations and all that." The viking looking image snorts, causing rather disturbing sounds, then hawks and spits something green and phlegmy off to one side, as if showing his disdain for paperwork of any sort. "I'm looking to broaden my magical horizens. I guess they refer to it as Initiation usually." His crimson colored brow furrows over his nose. "Something like that. But, I thought it might be interesting to glimpse the home of the Aesir again." He shrugs haphazardly.

"Initiation," Adam says with a bit of a nod, "is a very noble goal. And it would appear your brethren agree with that." He motions a hand to the 'Citadel' in the form it takes here. Entering with some caution (as traps suck balls), the hermetic mage finds solice amongst the wise men here. "Then this is likely your home plane. Very rustic. I'd imagine there will be many ancient secrets to decypher here."

Amidst jeers of "Back so soon?" and "You didn't die already, did you pup?" not to mention a few wolf whistles and catcalls of "Look't, the pretty lady warrior grew a beard!" Lars grins impishly and scratches the back of his head as he approaches the same sages and wise men, glancing towards Adam. "Well, don't be so quick to judge. I imagine the first secret you'll learn will be just how potent mead is. You turned mine down, but I think they'd be mightily offended if you did that here." He looks serious for once, briefly. "You don't want to offend them. Believe me." Then chuckles. "How fares, Northmen? Is the All Father about, or off galivanting amongst the world of men, trying to spread his seed as with Thor and myself?"

Adam offers Lars a light grin before disappearing to let the man go back to bonding with his kin. As for himself? It may just be mead he ends up in. Drunken wisdom indeed.

Looking about, Lars frowns. "I never did find out what YOU were here for?" Then shrugs and spends time bonding with his ancestors and far removed kinfolk.

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