POV: Gorm Sinfjǫtlisonr, the Clan Leader.
Date: Mörsugur 11th, 999. (Alt: 24rd Dec, 999 AD.) Location: Götaland (Ancient Sweden.)
'. . . Waking up in this field should not be as comfortable as it is, I slept on such fine grass. Heath does not 'pull any punches,' as he would say.' Gorm smiles while seeing the views.
A nice sunrise that is punctuated by the visible, yet fading stars. A wide range of colours that picture itself with great prismatic hues upon their blades. There is a rich, yet calming smell that permeates throughout the flower patches nearby. Gorm is at peace with himself.
"It reminds me much of the afterlife Heath told me of the Egyptians, what was it again. . . A'aru, the Field of Reeds. That's right." Gorm comments to nobody in particular. Gorm soon goes through the portal to Heath's last location, which is by the farms. He fades through it again, handling the vertigo better after the fourth time trying. And as his senses kick in, he hears a quaint, sonorous humming from a deep baritone voice. With a musical instrument he has never seen before, looking like a lyre with its strings touching a rolling piece of wood.
It was masterfully made of a mix of wood types and copper for accentuation with runic patterns on its surface, with the strings appearing taught, he plays it with a turning lever and buttons below it. A simple, yet wistful tune starts with playful metal clinks in concordance.
A song that captured Heath's emotions was played near Hervor, who is raptured by his voice. Beside her, the person he expected to appear from their talks was there and alive. Hugging Hervor, appearing happy, his copper skin glinting with the added warmth of emotion.
They feel the vibes of Heath. Unwritten emotions is sung to them in an ariose, cacophonous ditty, played upon an exquisite instrument that could be heard from many ells away. The air coursed around him during this process, as if empowered by the majesty in his musical act. And. . . It felt like they could make out a duo to his strumming. An ethereal beating of a small drum which grew louder as Heath reached the crescendo of this stentorian song. It shifted to other songs of the same maker through seamless transitions that were hard to perform.
Even though Agnarr was made of pure copper, he broke this 'limit' and still shed a green-tinted tear while spectating Heath upon the low, flowing grass. He moved his head towards Hervor, and Hervor did the same. His soft copper hair flattened realistically against her own.
Heath's final note reverberated into their bodies, they shook as if standing in the middle of a colossal yell of a crowd in a packed stadium. Their expressions were full of passion and enjoyment. Agnarr, after unfreezing himself could not help but clap for Heath's preformance. Heath bowed theatrically, saying "Thank yous" a few times over before beginning the start of a new song, however. Before that, he coughed into his hand, acting as if something went into his throat before suddenly pulling out some appetizer sweets before the main course arrived.
They were similar in appearance and texture to Turkish delights, but they weren't as sweet and matched the Norse standards closer. It was a wide success and Heath began working on a plan ahead of time, splitting the instrument to make 2 new ones in its place.
"You are a man of many talents, Heath. What can you not do!" Agnarr cheered loudly, honouring Heath's capabilities. "Thank you, it was hard to achieve while learning it (a few hours ago.)" Heath soon looked towards Gorm with a gentle expression. "How was your sleep, Gorm?" In Gorm's opinion, Heath showed too much worry for a single night under a higher-quality case, but he waved it off. "I slept better than I did in my bed back then. Yet I had the best one in the Clan, that shows what a new god can do." Gorm responds jokingly.
Heath did a low chuckle. "Do not assume it is because I am god-like. The way I designed the grass makes them quite self-sustaining when they need to be. And about sustenance, are any of you hungry?" Heath flew off through the portal and back with prepared food in hand.
The food wasn't of Völsung Clan make, it had many shades and appeared luxurious to their standards. They could tell it was venison, but it was covered with many of their vegetables but of much higher quality and was topped with two seeded bread pieces, staked through with garnish on top. It was large enough to feed someone of Heath's size. "I made this for the whole clan last night. It will be a big day today with your son arriving tomorrow, after all." Heath says, placing the plates upon the vibrant grass. The enticing smell brought them in.
"What type of meal is this?" Hervor asks with obvious want in her eyes. "I call it a 'longer (said in English)' based off of a foot-long from my world. Offtopic, your crops took to the magic of the farm very well. It became almost too large throughout." Heath mused loudly.
"That is the usual with you, after all." Agnarr says tiredly. He may have only returned last night, but he could tell the type of man Heath was. "And it is nice to see you again, Clan Head. You have aged very well since we last saw each other." Agnarr expresses flatteringly.
"Thank Heath for that, he gave me that procedure that is making me young again, after all." Gorm says, shifting the attention to Heath. "Do not focus on me, eat. That procedure you went through will make you very hungry after all." Heath lifts the plates and gifts them.
The 'longer' looked to be able to feed three people once shared. And its tantalizing aroma makes them all express themselves hungrily, even causing Hervor's stomach to growl. Meanwhile, Agnarr who does not need to eat, could tell it was the best meal one could have.
"We usually have stewed vegetables in the morning. This 'beats it by a longshot.'" Hervor says, picking it up with two hands, one in the middle and one in the back and chomps into it. "Nice use of the phrase. Getting used to it, then." Heath says in a joyful chatter, then quieting to pick up the violin again. The air around him stills, as if waiting for his command. He begins to hum while playing soothing, periodic noises of differing patterns, veering around him in a soft breeze. His voice turns introspective and resolute.
A tune that sounded medieval yet fantastical played out, and the new instruments fit the new verbosity of this song. Heath's voice turned echoey and multiplicative, sounding like 3 people of similar moods sang in synced cadence within a cathedral or cave of similar make.
"♪Udlag b'iklalu Urâd Bundul
Ana tebud~zahar ra ganâd gamil
Zamâmari zai, agnânu nu-(uh)rt
D'agrub ubrazimâ sigin-manathr. . . ♪"
The music takes them to a world not their own below the earth. Their imaginations run wild with what these lyrics could mean, eating a food unknown to them further puts them in this mindset, some picture the deep tones to be those one could hear through a cave, to note extra steps beyond those above in a show of power and tradition. Like they could gather from a choir in a cathedral's acoustic design (from what they could gather.) Even if they were in open grass, it felt like it was directly pointed at them, rather than it being spread around.
"Where do you think he knows these songs, they sound. . . Unique, do you think they were from the 'Villagers' or 'Piglins?'" Agnarr whispers to Hervor, who only shrugs slightly. They have good food and song, but Gorm feels like they're missing something.
"♪Furkhîn ata azmur ai-mâu
Ulfat ata adbur ni zann
Urus ata baraz, arrâsihu yamara
Kâmin, resar, rasara zai lukhud. . . ♪"
"Right, we need drinks." Gorm says, which causes Heath to pause suddenly. "Was meant to be on its way. Some of the golems were carrying them to pass around the people." Heath is embarrassed they are late, but he continues unflinchingly with his song. Soon stringing the end of the tune that would make anyone feel warm as if they were by a home's hearth. Then, the violin morphed, becoming rounder and less conical in shape, altering the sound holes to make one singular circle in the middle. A new sequence began playing through a solo.
"And just in time too." Heath whispers, though it was still loud enough for others to hear. They look behind themselves, seeing 25 Autos (Auto-76 to Auto-100) carrying them in, they were swift and graceful, yet emotionless in their movements, carrying them on metal trays.
"What flavour is it?" Hervor asks, knowing it may be something they don't expect, seeing in these new glass stein mugs a multitude of colours, from red, yellow red (orange,) yellow, black yellow (auric,) to green red (brown.) They could only imagine the flavours that awaited them. "These are a surprise, you will try and I will describe. There are some drinks from my home realm, such as 'Absinthe,' 'Brandy,' 'Gin,' 'Lagers' or stone-sealed ale, 'Whiskies' that have separated tastes (Whisky / Whiskey difference,) Ales, Beers, Wines. . ." Heath surmises.
"There is also clean water, both regular and 'sparkling.' You could add fruit 'cordials' if you wish to flavour it." Auto-81 to Auto-85 brought them in hand-in glass bottles that are designed and sophisticated in look. The options swamped them, yet again.)
"Why does your world have so many options?" Gorm asks while grabbing a mixed berry cordial and looking at it admiringly. "There are so many more that are both in my home realm and currently existing here. Like 'Tequila' from Abya Yala (America,) Vodka from Państwo Gnieźnieńskie (Ancient Poland) or 'Sake' from Oyashima (Japan.)" Heath knew they tried Vodka before as they saw a small stash in one of their storage houses. "Want me to bring out that drink of rich alcohol that reminds me of vodka from your stash?" Heath questions Gorm.
"No thank you, we're saving that as a commemoration for fallen soldiers, we pour it upon the pyre due to its strong nature to make it measure the burn for the funeral rights if necessary." Gorm said with a sudden sombre look to him. "Understood." Heath let go of it quickly.
"I noticed you're wondering how to open it, to do that. Just turn the metal cap on top by twisting your hand." Heath put down the guitar and showed with a citrus cordial nearby. "Now you try it, though you need to put some strength onto it." Heath sat, pouring a glass.
Gorm soon twisted the cap, its gripped surface made it easier, but it still made his hands vein in the struggle. "I don't think it needed to be that tight." Agnarr said in the background, eyeing an absinthe bottle. "On the contrary, it does. While this area is clean. I was worried it could still spoil. It is non-alcoholic and only flavouring after all." Heath stated in part-worry. "And you are made of copper, you use magic to sense but you couldn't get drunk. Unless your soul caused greater 'changes' than I expected." Heath watched Agnarr open it easily.
"That is fine, the taste is what I like. Let's see if I enjoy absinthe then. . ." Agnarr poured a glass-sized portion into his mouth, it sloshed loudly, sounding as if it echoed out of a hollow reverberator. He closed his mouth and let it sit in his mouth for a bit, testing its flavour.
"Tastes a bit like mild liquorice or tarragon, it's a nice flavour. Its bitter aftertaste works to make a nice contrasting system with. . . Mugwort?" Agnarr described in surprising detail. "Parts are made from 'cousins' to these plants, so you are close to perfectly correct. Were you a beverage taster in the past, by any chance?" Heath asked in delight. Hoping another person like himself is part of the group now. One thing he enjoyed in the past was trying and learning the recipes to many different types of drink, an enthusiast you could say.
"No, just learnt a thing or two while being sorted through to Fólkvangr (Freyja's hall, the same size as Óðinn's Valhalla. Where warriors from lower-born classes are sorted through.)" Agnarr described to Gorm what he said to Hervor about going to Freyja's part of the realm.
He went through a prominent, lush landscape and incredible farms of unknown size. Warriors were working to supply all of these different plants he had never known about under Njörðr's leadership. And with the help of horse and goat-like beings, were drawn across large wooden sleighs to disappear beyond a thick mist intertwined from large and ghostly, vine-like tendrils. Besides them, Freyr's blessing works to help all aspects of their undying work.
The food was abundant like Valhalla's, and they did much during the day. Additionally, if allowed and accepted by Freyja, one could meet others from the selected halls. It was unlikely though, as she was always busy with her affairs in study and in teaching Óðinn.
"Sounds like a paradise straight from our stories. And how was your meeting when you came to the land of the living?" Gorm asks Agnarr, he has an amused expression that is partially masked to give respect to Agnarr. "As you'd expect, Clan Head. Got slapped across the face at first." Agnarr pointed to his left cheek at the same time as Gorm broke his expression and gave a light huff of enjoyment. "If you'd come back again alive as promised, that wouldn't have happened." Hervor gave a 'light' tone. Causing Agnarr's head to shift back into his neck.
"Yes, love." Agnarr's eyes shifted down before moving up to settle on a golem breaking rank and moving towards Heath. "Is your golem meant to do that?" Agnarr asks Heath, who looks in the same direction. A very confused expression formed on his face.
"No, I asked them to report to me if they needed to borrow more magic during the creation of the flight suits (The next step to the hoverboard.) I can see through my vision they still have magic. . ." Heath tilted his head slightly, seeing Bus-2 get closer. A behemoth of a construction strolling in a human-like fashion, with expressivity to its steps, its body language showed excitement and obeisance. Heath realised what may have transpired, now scanning deeper within to see if it 'developed,' finding a small but perceivable orb of a soul!
"It seems this golem has begun forming the start of a personality, this one was following my instruction of reporting themselves if they noticed internal changes from yesterday." Heath watched Bus-2 with pride and expectation while they continued striding forward.
"Mhm, and as well. I like mugwort, pass it to me." Hervor asked and took the bottle at the same time. "Do not drink too much absinthe, it is stronger than many of your previous ales, after all." Heath was unnecessarily worried again, Gorm knew Hervor was a heavy drinker. "I will be fine." Hervor waved him off, then took one of the glass mugs and poured it until it reached the top, swinging it down quickly. Glugging to reach for another swig. "Nice flavour." Hervor said during the second pouring. Heath frowned but didn't voice anything at this point.
"To be honest, I'm surprised it already gained a soul. In the myth, it took Gullinbursti about a week to develop its personality." Heath then remembered that Brokkr and Eitri weren't magically focused, soon realising it was his doing that led to the golem's sudden growth.
Heath sat down upon the grass and had his glass of citrus cordial, running a hand through the soft veldt below him while watching Bus-2 curiously walk closer to him. Once Bus-2 was close enough, it sat beside Heath and eyed him like a toddler with innocent wonder. Heath patted them on the shoulder while drinking his juice. "So 'biggun,' want to be able to speak?" Heath asks, knowing he forgot to apply this magic, Gorm watches with intrigue between them. It almost appears like an innocent father-and-child duo. The golem nodded hastily.
Gorm put on a helpless smile while nobody watched him as they were attentively scanning the newly created runic combination like many others he had seen form. 'I wish I could do what he does, there is a difference between a friend of ours doing it and the leader doing it.'
Heath gave a clear signal, and a voice spoke from the golem. Gorm expected it to be deeper, but it sounded young, even feminine. "Hello, pappa." Others flinched and turned wide-eyed.