0832 5th June, 1329

Location: Unknown.

Liam blinked. The soft light of the sun filtered through golden leaves to strike his face, playing gently across his eyelids and causing him to awaken from his comfortable slumber. The soft loam beneath him was gentler upon his body than even the bed he’d slept in at the keep.

He sat up, stretching. His mail clinked as he moved, making him wonder why he’d been wearing it. As he rubbed his eyes, his memory returned, and he looked around. He was no longer in the desolated Hamlet of Ferniegair. The Lord and Lady were no longer before him, and his friends gone.

He pulled out the harp, staring at it in amazement, recalling the last message he’s seen. I need to find Bragi and get his blessing. Maybe then he can transport me back!

As Liam got to his feet, he noticed that the sleep had done wonders for his body. Stretching his limbs, he let out a mighty yawn and looked about.

Liam stood atop a tall hill at the end of a Fjord. Below, the sill of the Fjord formed a wide bay surrounded by high snow-capped peaks that warmed as they descended to craggy woods and cliffs that entered the bay. The entire landscape was wondrous. He’d never imagined in his wildest dreams a wilderness as beautiful as the one before him.

It appeared to be autumn. The evergreens stood proud as usual but mixed with their dark green leaves were golden and brown hues as trees shed their leaves. The patterns created by nature filling him with a sense of awe. In the sky above, strange flickers of light danced magically, giving the illusion that the sky itself was alive as light played in twisting greens and blues.

On one side of the fjord, a river flowed into the bay, having cut its path through the surrounding hills eons ago. Liam could see where currents of a golden-brown hue showed the line between the saltwater of the bay and the freshwater of the river.

Trees covered those places not conquered by rocky outcroppings, and grass lay deep and green across the hills, stretching nearly to the edge of the water to where he stood.

If he had known that paradise like this existed, he would have thought this a heaven.

In the near distance, he spied a large hall. It glinted in the light, a gold filigree covering the intricately carved ridges of wood. The details were barely visible from where Liam stood, but the gold was making it glow brightly in the sunlight. Finely carved sections of blended woods lay bare, offering an amazing contrast to the golden sections. The different colors of woods creating colorful scenes with the designs wrought upon them.

The display would have sent Liam’s old Master Colm into a frenzy of excitement and envy. Liam had never seen work as finely imagined in his life. No human carpenter could ever have made it.

Two great doors stood open, and Liam could see a bright flame of light emanating from within. The welcoming spectacle made Liam wonder if this hall may be the home of Bragi.

He noticed suddenly that he could feel a weight of wood still in his hand. He looked down in sharp surprise, remembering his purpose as his eyes locked on the harp.

This truly is a wonder beyond mortal ken. Liam thought. The harp itself was just as intricate, flecked with the remains of a golden leaf work, but age and misuse had eroded much of the precious material. As he inspected the harp, he became lost in thought, unaware of the clatter of hooves approaching behind him.

“Hail!” a voice boomed. “Who might you be, mortal? And by what right do you trespass my fields?” The man’s accent was strange and clipped, as if the man was biting each vowel. The consonants were exaggerated as though the man was yawning, Rs rolling like thunder, and the Ts cracking like a whip.

Liam spun to see a handsome man riding a horse - well, a horse-thing - towards him. Liam found himself frozen in the man’s presence.

No.

To call him a man was to call a king a pauper. He was something beyond human. Liam tried to speak, but his tongue tied itself in a knot.

The horse-thing came up to Liam, clattering swiftly on eight legs. It appeared to be a horse, but its legs divided below the knee, forming two legs such that one of its feet on each leg always remained in contact with the ground. It sniffed at him tentatively and then, surprising Liam, it licked his face. The slobber from the horse caused Liam to sputter and yelp.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, pushing the beast’s muzzle away. It ignored him, delivering another lick that plastered Liam’s hair across his forehead, a drool coating him.

This broke his reverie. He attempted a bow, harassed by the inquisitive horse-creature. “Apologies Lord, I am named Liam Lamberton.” He said. “Can you please make your mount stop licking me?” He asked, unsuccessfully dodging another expert lick.

“Skeidbrimir, hold your tongue!” The Lordly man commanded. And much to Liam’s surprise, the next lick hovered barely an inch from his face. The eight-legged horse turned its head to its master and gave a whicker of displeasure. “She said she likes you but will cease.” the mounted figure continued. “Yet that does not obviate your trespass in my lands.”

“I ask again, Liam the Mortal.” He frowned down at Liam, hand resting on a golden sword. “Why come you here?”

“I apologize, great lord.” Liam tried mimicking the pattern of speech. “I was summoned to this place to complete a quest.”

He displayed the information about his harp.

Harp of Bragi (Epic)

Class Item

Level 10

+15 Wisdom

+10 Intelligence

+10 Agility

+5 Charisma

+5 Strength

(Attributes unlock on Attunement)

The Harp of Bragi, Son of Odin. The Dwarves of Svartalfheim built this harp for Bragi in hopes it would appease Odin for a long-forgotten wrong. Gifted to his daughter, her wicked son stole it and broke its spirit binding. It now awaits a new owner.

Abilities available on pickup.

Shapeshifter: Grows or shrinks to fit the user's intent.

Weightless: This harp is made of wood, not of this realm.

Abilities on Attunement:

Locked

Attunement of this item requires quest completion.

Quest: Bragi, son of Odin, was the original owner of this harp. In order to bind the harp, you must receive his blessing, and test your Kenning.

Quest Complete 0/1

The blonde man leaned forward from his mount, and his eyes widened in shock. “Bragi’s Harp?” He exclaimed. “How did you recover such a treasure?” He demanded. “I thought this lost to the ages when Alice’s son stole it from her!”

Liam explained the circumstances which had led to the harp being recovered from the Orc War chief.

The blonde man mused on this for a moment. “So, you have slain Bragi’s grandson? I cannot say I would blame you, nor he. The boy took after his father more than his mother.”

Liam tried to gain some more information about the powerful stranger. Focusing on him, his eyes widened.

Name: ?

Race: Ascended

Level: ?

Health: 217,038/217,038

This was no mere man. This must be Bragi.

Liam bowed his head to the Aesir. “My Lord Bragi.” He said. “I seek to complete a quest to gain you blessings to bind this harp, and to learn of ‘Kennings’.”

The Blonde Aesir frowned, then burst into gales of laughter. “I am no Skald!” He managed. “Though it is good of you to think so highly of me!” The powerful being before Liam took a moment to calm his humor.

“My name is Forseti. And I oversee Asgard and Vanaheim’s Law. I see Justice done and to preside over the þing.” He smiled, and the smile warmed Liam’s very skin. He had said the last word as Liam would say “thing”, but there was a subtle difference.

“What is a þing, Lord?” Liam asked.

“Hm?” Forseti mused. “You do not have assemblies for debates and rulings in your lands?” he asked, surprised.

“We do lord, we call them councils, courts or meetings.” Liam said.

“So many words for such a tiny þing.” Forseti bellowed in laughter.

His laughter was contagious, and Liam could not help himself. He nodded, smiling at Liam’s laughter. “You do well to laugh, young mortal, for you are safe, welcomed and my guest. Few have had that honor from the mortal realm of Midgard.”

A vision flashed before Liam.

You are now a Guest of the Lord Forseti of the Aesir. You have received the Guest-right of Glitnir.

Title Gained.

Liam judged that now would be the time for his finest courtly bow. He spoke, mimicking the cadence of his host. “Thank you, Lord Forseti. Your grace and hospitality are as gladly received as a shelter in storm sky.” Liam paused for a moment, worried that if he took too long in completing the quest, Lord Douglas and the others in the destroyed hamlet would have left.

“My Lord, how can I return to my land? I wish to complete this quest quickly, as my Liege Lord makes haste to my King’s side. We were travelling north when ambushed by the Orcs. I came upon this harp and unknowingly accepted the quest. I would not have done so knowing it would bring me here!”

A look of consternation passed over Forseti’s face. “Realm travels would be difficult for a mortal to achieve. That you arrived here is because of the magic of the system. As a mortal, you could not hope to use our methods of travel. It would crush your body and spirit beyond recognition. It is likely that you will need to discover a way to return yourself, or to get the system to return you.”

Liam felt disappointed by the news. But an idea occurred to him. He asked.

“Will the system return me after I complete or cancel the quest?” He questioned the Aesir hopefully.

The Aesir nodded, “It may do so, but with the system, there are no guarantees. All you can be sure of is that a disciplined mind matched with growing power gives glorious rewards. Perhaps your reward for completing the quest will be a return to Midgardr, perhaps not, only success will give you your answer.”

“Thank you Lord Forseti, your kindness does you justice.” Liam said as he bowed low in a formal courtly pose.

“No wonder it was you who came across my Uncle’s harp. Few are words more fairly spoken, for I am justice.” The Aesir said, now entirely recovered from his bouts of humor. “He will be glad to see it once again!” Forseti turned towards the hall.

“You are in luck. My uncle is here. He will be glad to meet the mortal who recovered his daughter’s stolen harp.” The Aesir beckoned Liam to follow, dismounting his beast.

“Skeidbrimir, go play.” he ordered, and the steed whickered happily. Giving Liam a last lick, she turned nuzzled at her master. Forseti chuckled. “Go!” he ordered. “I shall walk!”

With a whirl of legs, the steed charged down the hill towards the frolicking deer.

The Aesir turned to Liam and sighed. “She’s a good beast, but sometimes I think she wishes she was born a deer. Far too flighty for a Lokijor.” He shook his head and strode towards his golden hall.

Although it appeared Forseti walked slowly, he was forcing Liam to run to keep up. Liam could not understand how the Aesir moved at such a rapid pace. He looked at the man’s feet, trying to understand how he ate up the distance. With each step, his grounded foot seemed to slide across the grassland, bearing him forward as if the grasses carried him onwards of their own will.

Fortunately, the hall was not too far away. Soon arriving, and out of breath, Liam tried to take in the building's magnificence.

The hall was massive. Easily tall enough to fit the entire Bailey and Keep at Douglas with room to spare. He thought it may also encompass the curtain wall! The doors stood open, their finely wrought carvings tracing spider-web thin ridges, describing the great deeds of those who lived within.

The building appeared to be a sleek-hulled longship, upturned, so that its keel faced the sky. A central spine of wood anchored the roof, much as a ship keel anchored the strakes and planking, stretching for over a hundred yards. From where he stood, Liam could see it was a single log. He felt sure no such trees existed on Earth.

Where the prow would stand on a ship, a large dragon head carved from fine silver rested. Liam saw its eyes move, quickly assessing him. Then it saw the lord of the hall and bellowed a roar that shook Liam to the core as it spoke. “WELCOME, LORD!”

He chuckled. “Hail, Glitnir. Is my uncle Bragi still within?”

“YES, LORD!” the dragon’s head replied. “HE SINGS MOST PLEASINGLY!”

As the Aesir and mortal entered the hall, a servant appeared, greeting the lord with a sweeping bow and taking his sword and cloak. They provided water and salt to Liam, and he looked at the items in surprise. Was he supposed to do something with them?

“You no longer have this custom where you are from?” Forseti asked, curious.

“No Lord,” Liam said. “Am I to mix them?” He asked.

The Aesir laughed. “You eat the salt and drink the water.” he said as he calmed down. “It grants you guest rights under the ancient laws of hospitality. All who enter my halls in peace receive this gift.

Liam nodded and pinched from the bowl of salt, placing it on his tongue. He chewed at the larger crystals and swallowed the biting brine as it mixed with his saliva. Then he took up a goblet and drank until the taste of the salt faded.

“Welcome to Glitnir.” Forseti proclaimed, and the servant bowed to Liam. “Borik, take Liam the mortal to my uncle Bragi! He has found something that once belonged to him and seeks to return it.” He commanded. “Also, let him know that of the sounding of the Horns. As per the messengers, I have checked the runes. Vanaheim remains warded as is God’s will.”

With a bow to the Lord of Glitnir, the servant beckoned Liam to follow him. He was just as tall as his lord, a good eight feet in height and built far larger than any man Liam had ever seen. His muscular body flowed like water as he led Liam from the entrance.

As they progressed into the hall, Liam looked about in wonder. Great pillars of living trees held up the ceiling. As Liam looked up, he gasped in awe. Branches stirred gently in the hall’s breeze, occasionally shedding leaves to fall softly to the floor. The ceiling shone with golden light, like the sun from the reflection of the lanterns and fires illuminating the hall.

Amongst the trees which supported the roof were several large tables. Around them sat powerfully built men in fine clothes and the lithe forms of graceful women. All were beautiful beyond compare to any mortal he’d seen on earth. Only Lady Tatania may have rivalled them for grace.

Near a large central fire, a cloaked figure with a thick black beard sat gently strumming a harp. The revelers in the hall listening carefully as a voice rang out, weaving a song of time long past, and of hope still to come.

As Liam followed Boric, he saw the mirth radiating from the figure’s eyes, but not of a wicked sort. This was the joy of wit and pure fun, of riddles and joking tongues.

Their eyes locked for a moment, and Liam saw substantial power, passion and a joyful intent within them. He knew who this powerful figure was.

Bragi.

“Ah, Lord Bragi.” Borik greeted. “It seems the news is true. God has sounded the Horns, and our God has begun the Tribulations once more. My lord Forseti has taken steps to ensure Vanaheim will remain unmarred by conflict.” He smiled sadly. “At least for now.”

Bragi nodded solemnly. “The All-Blesser sounds the bringers of woe. For out of Tribulations, great things grow.” He looked at Liam as he spoke. The rhyme was deep and full of a prophetic meaning that made Liam’s eyelids droop tiredly, seeking sleep to absorb the sudden mental fatigue.

“Please, enough of that, Lord Bragi!” Borik pleaded. “The mortal cannot cope with kennings of such power. He has my Lord’s guest right. For the sake of the love you bear my Lord, I beg you not to harm him!”

“My nephew brings mortals to his hall?” Bragi asked. “And as the Tribulation begins? But why?” The Aesir seemed genuinely surprised.

“I dare not speak for my Lord, Great Skald. But it seems he returns something you lost long ago.” Borik bowed low, gesturing at the harp Liam held.

Bragi waved for Liam to sit at a nearby fur covered bench. As Liam sat, sinking into the fur, he ran his fingers inquisitively through the softest and most pristine pelt he’d ever touched.

Before Borik left, he offered Liam a last piece of advice. “Try not to consume the meat or mead of this world. The energies held within are too densely concentrated for an unevolved mortal to consume. Know that if you risk this act, guest right will not protect you from a folly you inflict on yourself!”

Bragi nodded as Borik left to complete his duties in another part of the hall, catching goblets and plates thrown at him by the revelers as he deftly proceeded through the tables.

Turning to face Liam, the cheerful Aesir brought his eyes to Liam’s level. The young page felt like he was being drowned in a deep lake as he looked into those eyes. They had seen ages beyond measure.

The Aesir looked at the harp in Liam's hands. His face cracking into the most genuine smile Liam had ever seen. It was as though Bragi had spotted a long-lost brother, and not wanting to prevent the reunion, Liam raised the Harp towards Bragi.

“Oh no.” Bragi protested. “I am glad to see my dear Harp once more, but I have another now that fits my ability.” He said. “It is good to see it is unbroken, although it appears much battered. I assume you found it in this condition?” Liam nodded.

“I would be glad to hear you play something for me!” He waited expectantly, but Liam was at a loss.

“My apologies Lord, but I do not know how to play any instrument, let alone the Harp.” Liam explained, apologizing for his shortcoming to the Aesir.

“Oh, I can teach that if you wish, but I would very much like to hear it play once more.” The Aesir concentrated on his own harp a moment. “Now, follow what I do.” he said, and his fingers danced in such an intricate fashion that Liam’s jawbone clicked as it fell open in awe.

Liam managed the first note just fine, and Bragi frowned. “Is that...” He paused. “I have not been in the presence of a mortal for a very long time.” he said. “You have my apology for expecting too much. A significant flaw in a teacher, I am told.”

Liam shook his head. “Not so, Lord Bragi. My old master told me it was the student who should learn at the speed of the master, lest the work suffer.”

“And was your master of the Aesir or Vanir?” Bragi asked.

“No, Lord Bragi.” Liam answered. “His name was Colm, a master carpenter in my…”

Liam’s eyes bugged, realizing he’d just contradicted the Aesir. He apologized, hoping he had not given offense by suggesting that Bragi was wrong.

“Apologies, Lord!” Liam said quickly, as he stood and bowed in apology.

“It is of no matter, young mortal.” Bragi said. “In music there is no right or wrong, there is only the discordant and the harmonious. If I played a harmony too quickly for ears to hear or tempo to flow, it would be discordant. Just as when a random assortment reaches a pattern and becomes harmonious.”

Bragi smiled. “Please forgive this Aesir for forsaking the word of Master Carpenter Colm, but he is no Aesir, nor was he teaching faster than mortals can think.”

Bragi plucked the strings of his harp this time, taking a great deal of time on each note.

Liam copied the gestures, occasionally missing a string. Bragi, however, looked upset with the effort. “The Harp is out of tune.” He sighed and taught Liam the method of tuning the instrument. Finally satisfied, he conceded the instrument was ready. Over what seemed like hours, the two sat and played, Bragi ever patient and Liam focusing his intent on learning.

After some time, Bragi excused himself and came back with two full flagons. Liam was about to sip his when he recalled the words of Borik.

“Don’t worry lad.” Bragi said. “I filled it with water. There should be no harm in it for you.”

Liam raised the flagon to his parched lips and gulped down the water. As it hit his body, his body became radiant, but not in the same way as when he levelled up. This radiance was a shimmering and ever moving rainbow of colors.

He tried to scream as pain wracked his mind, but he could not remove the flagon from his lips. He gulped again. Nothing had ever tasted half as good in his entire life, but the pain was not from the taste. It was the familiar feeling of attribute increases.

Large attribute increases!

A vision appeared before his eyes. Even the sip of wine he’d tasted from Lord Douglas’s cellars when cleaning the cups tasted like rancid water compared to this.

You have imbibed Strongly Diluted Mead of the Aesir (Divine).

For the next 24 hours, you gain a +20 increase in intelligence, wisdom, and charisma.

He forced another gulp down his throat, and he found he could not stop. His eyes were bugging out, as he could no longer breathe. His health decreased rapidly.

“Ah, apologies mortal. Perhaps a few drops of the mead mixed with the water. Had you tasted even a hundredth part of our feast mead and the rest being water, you may have broken your mind. It is fortunate that I wiped the flagon thoroughly before filling it.”

The drink was killing him, and Bragi did not even seem to notice. He hoped he could finish the flagon before his health dropped to zero, desperately chugging the mug, but it seemed endless!

“How many attributes did it add?” The skald paused, looking at Liam intensely for a moment, assessing him as Liam continued to chug the flagon.“ He chuckled. "I remember when my statistics were as low! I can see you still have several unassigned attributes. Did you find my old harp after a battle mayhaps?”

Liam tried to force himself to stop drinking but couldn’t even move. His head swimming in a haze of overloaded sensory inputs. His taste buds felt like someone had poured the sweetest honey over them, and no matter how much he swallowed, more glorious tastes were with the next gulp.

Trying to stop drinking was like trying to stop his heart from beating.

Impossible.

“Oh, you’re still…” Bragi said. He strummed his harp gently, smiling as he whispered something. “That should help.”

Liam found himself back in control. He dragged the flagon away from his face and dropped it in horror. Coughing and gasping for air.

As he recovered, he asked. “What just happened?”

“The reactions of mortals in this realm never cease to amaze me. You entered a stunned condition from consuming the tiniest portion of the Mead of Vanaheim, although you likely gained some Available Attributes from it too. The mead of our realm is far more powerful than anything you may have encountered from your home.”

Liam recalled the stun effect he’d felt when fighting the half-orc war chief. “I have felt something like that before, when fighting the half-orc I bested to gain this harp.” He paused, remembering that same giant monster was Bragi’s grandson. “I’m sorry that I slew your kin…” He trailed off after the awkward apology.

“Oh, do not mind that. I have thousands of grandsons.” Bragi said, waving his hand dismissively. “Few of them are as much of a turd as that boy turned out to be. He took after his father.”

Bragi shrugged. “Few could compete with him for brutality, but none of them would so stupid as to steal from my daughter. He knew the price was a violent death. I’m just glad I didn’t need to waste my time hunting him myself!”

“Why would God design the system for creatures like him too?” Liam asked, remembering what Aidan had said about the villagers, and recalling the death of the young girl in the hamlet. “He was not human, and not of Earth.”

“It was not God who designed the system.” Bragi answered. “Something… else created it. God never let us know who or what it was, and so it either is not important, or it is dangerous.”

Seeing Liam was still curious, the Aesir continued. “The system becomes active throughout the ages at different times for each realm’s Tribulation.”

“Each time a few champions do battle with champions of a different realm. The first Tribulation was when my father and his brothers of the Aesir went forth to Vanaheim and there defeated the Vanir.”

Liam thought he understood. “So, each realm goes through a Tribulation, and the Vanir were your opponents?”

“They were, but they were not from our realm of Asgardr. They were from this realm. Vanaheim.” Bragi said.

“Once, long ago, the Vanir were minions of a different God from a far-off cluster of stars. It was only after we conquered them and took this world that we could have a lasting peace in Asgardr. Through our conquest, the system transported their world close to ours, allowing us to travel between the realms with ease. We found we had a great deal in common with the surviving Vanir and after conquering them, we became one people of two tribes. They were a far more peaceful tribe, focused on nature, love, and crafting. They stood no chance against us, as we have always been proud of our martial prowess. Eventually they faced their own Tribulation. When it came, we gave them the aid of our warriors.”

“They also had a Tribulation?” Liam asked, shocked. “I thought they went through one against you. Why did they suffer a second?”

“Each God must prove their realm's value to the System. If the realm fails its Tribulation, the God will lose it to another who then bends it to their will. Some Gods are good, some are viciously evil. We believe the System is trying to find the path to the greatest civilization, but do not know why it seeks this. All we know is that the Tribulations continue, world after world.”

Liam, confused by so many new ideas, tried to reset his thinking by going back to what he knew. None of this was even close to what he’d heard of God from the sermons, or from what he’d heard of the Bible and revelations. “But what of the Devil, what of the Bible?” he asked. “Surely if God planned this, He would have allowed us time to prepare?”

“Plans change! The Bible is only a book written by mortals. God speaks through prophets and seers, not through books.” Bragi shrugged. “If you think God has time to worry about all the mortals of his realms, you have not thought enough about what God is.”

“God is all powerful, all prescient, and all knowing. But he is not decisive. If he were, do you think he would have created Lucifer?” Liam shook his head, crossing himself at hearing the name of the Star of the Morning.

Bragi continued. “God saw an opportunity to raise the stakes for this Tribulation. Now your realm is to fight for all the worlds God has conquered since he created Heaven. Should you win, we claim nine new realms from the Demon-God. Should you fail, Ragnarok arrives and we all die.”

“Then you can help, just like you did with the Vanir?” Liam asked hopefully. If beings like the Aesir can bring their power to Earth, we would surely win!

“Angels from God have commanded us not to interfere. We, and the other realms, are not to travel to Midgardr for the duration of your Tribulation.”

Liam felt disappointed. He recalled what Lady Tatania had said about Bragi being one of the Norse Gods. “Can you truly not help? I thought you were also a God?”

Bragi cut him off angrily. “We never claimed to be Gods! We have always told you Midgardr fools we were Ascended. Like you, the Lord God made us in his image. We are human! But we have ascended to immortality! That is the only difference between us!”

He calmed, seeing that Liam had not wished to offend him, but had simply asked out of a lack of knowledge. The boy now shook before him. Others in the hall had looked over and Bragi realized he’d been yelling.

“I apologize Liam. The All-father Odin has been alive for almost one hundred thousand of your earth years, but his power is but a drop in the ocean compared to the Lord God. We have never wanted to usurp the Lord God’s power.”

“After the conquest of Midgardr, we all visited, eager to explore a new realm. It was a wondrous sight! But then we met the first of God’s creations.” Bragi’s face screwed up in disgust. “Humans, who looked just like us.”

“You should have tried talking to the idiots! Your people had barely discovered farming, but on discovering our power, they worshipped us. Next thing we knew, they were concocting stories about how we wanted them to live! Some of us even believed in our own power, which only made things worse! Then we spread stories. Mostly they were lies, but all of them exaggerated our deeds.”

“The next thing we knew, priests turned us into a religion. Mostly so they could have sex and gain power.”

He made a disgusted noise.

“It’s probably why Thor got along with them so well.”

“As time passed, we kept visiting. Eventually, we became the progenitors of the tribes of the Ingaevones, Istvaeones and Irminones. Some of them even accessed the system, developing their levels and spirit. Those become immortal and joined us. Over time, though, we all grew bored and left for Asgardr and Vanaheim. Some, like Forseti, returned to Midgardr from time to time, but many have refused to go back.”

Liam was listening with rapt attention. He couldn’t believe that these beings had created entire religions out of boredom!

“We all found it hilarious when we heard that immortals from the realms of Alfheim, Svartalfheim, Muspelheim and Niflheim had done the same. Some intentionally seeking power. Eventually, each of the realms had their own tribes of worshippers spreading throughout Midgardr. You mortals not understanding the difference between an immortal and a God.”

“So, you are not Gods, but immortals?” Liam asked.

“Exactly!” Bragi grinned. “Asgardr is full of mortals, but we few immortals of the Aesir and Vanir stand apart, as champions of our realms. The other great houses all do the same, or at least try to. Some, like the Ennead, are more interested in their idea of the afterlife. The Olympians are much more like us but dislike visitors.” He sighed in discontent.

“There is and always has been only one God. The God. We are merely at the pinnacle of what humanity can achieve without crossing into the realms of Divine. Eventually, God grew tired with the stupid games we’d been playing in Midgardr and sent his son to earth to stop the nonsense.”

“You mean Jesus?” Liam said, awed at this history that was falling into place piece by piece.

Bragi smiled. “So, you’ve heard of Him? Yes. Although we called Him by a much older name. He is far wiser and kinder than most aspects of His Father.”

Liam grew silent for a while, contemplating what he’d discovered. Finally, he broke the silence.

“How many other worlds are there?” Liam asked, curious.

“There are eight controlled by our God. We don’t know how many there are in the universe, but we suspect that there are as many worlds as there are stars in the sky.” He paused, thinking. “Of those we are certain of, there are eight realms within God’s domain: Asgardr, Alfheim, Svartalfheim, Midgardr, Jotunheim, Vanaheim, Niflheim, and Muspelheim. All except Midgardr have gone through their Tribulations and conquered a new world.”

“The world you call ‘Earth’ is the realm most recently conquered in the Tribulation of Muspelheim. You may have heard of their champions. They pretended to the Godhood of the Greek tribes.”

Liam had not heard of them but had heard of the Greeks. Colm had once spoken of their woodworking techniques being the finest in the world.

“Now there is a new realm. The realm you are to fight during this Tribulation. We have known of it for over two thousand years. Surely you have heard of it?”

Liam shook his head.

“Hel.” came the response, and Liam crossed himself, nodding his understanding.

The increases in intelligence and wisdom allowing him to piece together the ancient history of his world and its relationships with the realms of God. It all made sense from a logical perspective, but was still a lot to absorb. Liam was struggling with the emotional turmoil brought about by his own cognitive dissonance. A lifetime of sermons and the certainty of truth from the Holy Mother Church warring with the logical sequence presented by Bragi.

“Even now, your world is being invaded by the Hosts of the Damned.” Bragi said. “You must gain levels quickly and gather power to you if you hope to stand against them.”

The idea of the Hosts of Damned upon Earth made Liam shudder. He recalled a conversation he overheard long ago, when accompanying Colm to the monastery for salves and medicaments. His enhanced wisdom aiding his memory.

While the armies of Christendom were powerful, they lacked unity, while the Church had little experience in military matters. He’d heard of what happened to the Templars, the Soldiers of Christ, who would have fought this war. While the Hospitallers remained a powerful force, they were all stationed in far-off lands, or else growing fat in monasteries and Temples.

“Can you tell me what we can expect from this Tribulation?” He asked. Hoping for some profound answer that might allow him some guidance.

Bragi smiled and shook his head. “Who can say? This Tribulation is different. Angels have visited all the realms, bringing word of this Tribulation. It is unlike anything we have seen before. No longer are only champions being brought into the Tribulation System, but your entire world’s population!”

“We have been told not to involve ourselves.” Bragi said. “There has been an agreement made between God and the enemy that the higher tier realms will not interfere with the battles for Midgardr or for Hel.”

Bragi looked sadly at Liam. “For now, you would be best assigning your attributes as you see fit and finding the paths to rapid growth. If you can, develop a solid foundation for your Spirit nexus too.”

He looked intently at Liam. “You are level 10 now. You should have unlocked a class to choose from, but I cannot see it.”

“A class?” Liam asked.

Bragi’s eyebrow rose. “Are you telling me, since you reached level ten, you have yet to open your Statistics screen?”

Liam looked down in embarrassment. “Well, there was so much to do after the battle, and then with my appearance in this realm…” He trailed off.

“It would appear you have some things yet to assign.” The ever patient Aesir hinted.

Liam pulled up his Statistics, yet instead of the Statistics, he saw a new vision.

Spiritual Heritage: 1/3.

You have fulfilled multiple actions to unlock your Spiritual Heritage.

God creates in his own image, some closer than others. Your Spiritual Heritage is an aspect of godly will passed down through your bloodline. May your ancestors guide your path.

1. Have slain an enemy of God guided by your Intent. 1/1 complete

2. Have slain an enemy over 3 times your level and twice your size. 1/1 complete

3. Learned to play a musical instrument. 1/1 complete

4. Have risen from anonymity to a position of honor in a Lord’s court.1/1 complete

5. Have manifested a Locked Spirit Nexus. 1/1 Complete.

The notification closed, being replaced with another.

Unique Spiritual Heritage Available:

Davidic Scion

You are a descendant of King David of Israel. His spirit has been called forth to guide you in your Tribulations.

David’s line is the line of Kings. Few are his descendants, and fewer can unlock his Heritage. Unique options will become available to you in the future.

+5 to all statistics. +50% to speed of learning Spells.

Unique Abilities Unlocked.

Spirit Guardian (passive): The spirit of your great ancestor can now enter your dreams and guide your spiritual formation.

Magic Sense (passive): You can now feel the flow of magic around and through you.

Heritage Skills:

Prescient Intent: For a short time, you can use your magic to discern opportunity around you. Magic Cost 10/second.

In Liam’s head, a voice whispered.

Hail Liam, Scion of my House!