“Who are you?” Thrym demanded, not for the first time. I had remained silent ever since we’d entered his throne room. Council chamber?

I had spent the time watching as the room expanded, growing larger and larger as more and more people entered. It was a neat trick, one I would have considered integrating into my own council chambers if I thought there was any chance I would remain King once my quests in this Universe were completed.

Once those entering the room had petered out, and it looked like the last Jotunn had arrived, I decided it was time to answer Thrym’s question. In a manner that would keep my secrets.

“Who,” I replied, using illusion to make me appear to be Loki.

“Do,” I said, my form shifting to the visage of Hel.

“You want,” I continued shifting into my actual appearance.

“Me too,” another shift, this time into Athena.

“Be,” finally shifting into Thrym himself as I finished speaking.

The shift in form had included a change in the aura released. A glamour that allowed me to reproduce the [Domain] of each person I shifted into. The auric signatures weren’t perfect, a pale reflection of what each God was capable of, but I made it appear as if I was distorting the divine energies to mask most of my presence.

“You won’t reveal who you really are?” Thrym asked, the stirring of anger lacing the world around him. The ice cracked, and snow formed and blew as his rage was unleashed.

“No,” I replied succinctly. I was not afraid or worried about Thrym’s power over ice and snow. I was a son of Cyronax and was as immune to the ravages of Winter as my celestial father.

“He’s not much for patience, is he?” Draioct muttered.

My only concession to the killing intent I felt was to change to the Jotunn form I’d arrived in, cloaking myself once again in Draioct’s aura. Draioct’s comment and observation only accentuated the partnership between us; his remarks drew Thrym’s focus.

“You’ve asked. Utgard-Loki has asked. The answer remains the same,” I said, ignoring Draioct’s comment and deflecting Thrym’s anger.

“Perhaps we can move past that question and ask why they are here and what they want?” A Jotunn that was introduced as Krampus asked.

Krampus was an interesting character. The son of Hel and grandson of Loki, he would become associated with Christmas as the companion to Santa Clause. If that Pantheon formed in this Universe, Krampus would be known for punishing misbehaving children. He was widely feared and would become known for stealing the souls of children and escorting them to Hel.

His appearance would borrow heavily from Satyrs and Devils. His body would be covered in red fur, helpful to obscure any lingering bloodstains. Horns, hooves, forked tongue, and glowing yellow eyes would complete the ensemble.

His appearance would be well suited for a God that ferried the souls of stolen children for Hel to Hela. For now? His appearance was not much different from any other Jotunn.

“That I will answer. I had thought to use deceit and illusion to trick the Jotunn into attacking Asgard. I needed Odin, and the Asgardians focused on the Jotunn, long enough for me to steal something,” I replied honestly.

“Unfortunately, I only realized once I had assumed this form and entered Utgard that the perpetual war between Jotunn and Asgard was a lie. It is a well-orchestrated and staged play that had become little more than theatre. A game the Gods play to stir the blood and fight boredom.”

“You think the war between Jotunn and Asgard is a game?” Thrym roared.

“There are no penalties and no true death,” I pointed out. “Once the battle is over, everything is restored, those that died alive once more, and the city of Utgard or Asgard made whole. How is that anything other than a game?”

“What are you hoping to steal?” Krampus asked, forestalling Thrym from leaping from his throne to attack me at my honesty.

Krampus’ relationship with Thrym was interesting. I hadn’t known a connection between the two existed. At least not a connection so deep that Krampus was able to control Thrym and his emotions. But I wasn’t as well versed in the minutia of the Asgardian Pantheon as I was in Olympus.

“Another question I won’t answer. It would be too risky, the very air carrying my words to Odin the moment they were uttered. He sees far, and his cursed ravens collect information as adeptly as any shiny trinket that might catch their interest,” I replied.

“You think the Jotunn would inform the Asgardians of your words?” Krampus wondered.

“Maybe not directly,” I conceded, “but rumor and gossip are the lifeblood of Loki and other Asgardians. An overheard conversation between Jotunn would be all that was needed for Odin to get wind of my goal.

“He will most certainly be appraised of my intent, now that we’ve spoken, even if he has no idea what I’m after.”

Thrym and Krampus failed to respond to my claim, both refusing to meet my eyes. Instead, their eyes flickered around the room, trying to discern who else was in attendance. This meeting hadn’t been private. Thrym was so angered by my use of illusion to pass as a Jotunn to consider that discretion might be advised.

“No matter,” I said. “I’ll find another way to enter Asgard and complete my goal.”

“He thinks he is going to just leave?” One of the voices in the crowd snickered loudly enough that everyone in the room heard his words and understood his disdain.

“Bergfinnr!” A voice hissed in warning.

“Do you have something to say, Bergfinnr, son of Thrym?” Krampus said, identifying the voice and forcing the young Jotunn to explain his comment.

“He gives no name and asks us to believe his purpose is to steal something from Odin All-father? Why would we believe him? What reason could there be for him to risk Odin’s wrath and attention?”

“Odin and Asgard have interfered in events on the mortal plane. They have acted with deliberation and cruelty, believing that it is their right to recreate the mortal realm in a manner that serves their purpose,” I answered.

The young man was not wrong, and his question of motive was prescient and, although an inquiry made in anger, one that certainly deserved an answer. One I was happy to give.

“He has schemed against those that I have claimed as mine, embroiled the mortal realm in a war that may yet release Ragnarok, and conspired with Zeus and the Gods of Olympus.

“I would see his plans thwarted, the Asgardians humbled, and the race of Man reminded that the Gods are fickle. They care little for those that they guide, only really interested in the fleeting life of humanity as long as it serves a purpose.”

“The Gods do not respect man; they use them.

“And I have to wonder why a son of the King of the Jotunn would name Odin as All-Father? Have the Jotunn surrendered to the Asgardian, and this game of wars that rages between Asgardian and Jotunn is window dressing?

“Have you sworn to Odin and the battles and wars between you nothing more than misdirection and illusion to confuse those who might be scrying and interested in the workings of the Asgardian plane?”