#rivervale_lodge

But eyes are not enough, as it does enough damage to the passage to nearly bury the heroine! And it's tongue slips out and tastes the air. It smells her! It looms ready to take her while she's separated from her axe by the rubble!

And.. this happens, of course, at the bottom of the page. Like a mini cliff hanger until you turn to see she died or not!

She won't!

(Dag turns the page)

Thrud reaches for the flask at her side, with the strong Nordic mead that her father likes! And she splashes it along the nose and tongue! It whips around reelling confused, for it has lost it's tracking scent AND its eyes

"Ha!"

"You can still hear, beast, so hear this" Thrud cries extending her axe and taking it into her two hands, "I am Thrud! Daughter of Thor! No more will you hurt the innocent, nor befoul the land! This is for the damage you did my brother Magni!" She gouged its neck, "This is for the harm done my brother Modi! " And yet another gash! "And this one? Well, GUESS!" and she severed the head from the great venomous thing entirely!

"BOOM."

Oh it thrashes even in death, and THrud does not walk away unwounded, she's even a bit sick from the venom (which she washes out with what's left in the flask though it does burn so) but walk she does, dragging the great monster's head behind her. And when she came to Asgard, she put it in front of her father's house on a great pike. And her brothers praised her when Thor returned, much more contrite- and never again did they dismiss her as 'just a goddess'. And that was the greatest prize of ..ah who was she kidding? The axe was the greatest prize. I mean, it was a Magic Big Damn Axe! But the brothers learning a little was nice.

Thrud went on, the short story says, to have many other tales. One might even hear a few more.. if they want to.

And Torrin coughs "Might want to read the other side of the first page"

"Oh?" She checks.

"Did he write this? Like, make it up?"

"Well, he does write novels for a living, so I'm inclined to say yes. But he also borrows a lot from myths and bits and.. ahem, real people. Ask the Chief about Silverhand"

"So... so this isn't real?"

He tilts his head "Just because it came from a skald or writer doesn't mean it isn't real. We're born of dreams, my girl. For us? Believing can be seeing. The more you believe in Thrud? Somewhere in the Dreaming, the more it is so."

"Oh.."

"That's.. well, that's alright, I guess."

"For that matter, there are those who believe that tales and songs that seem original are the Dreaming trying to rebirth what was lost. Perhaps, Gods help us, Vali is playing the part of a Godar.. a priest, carrying Thrud's word to you. THough I wouldn't tell Vali that. He's got a swelled head at times, and it's not THrud's fault she's got to work with people with a sense of humor" deadpan

A snerk.

"You should tell him thank you, for the kind words if nothing else. And let him know if you really would like to read more like that."

"Well, okay. I can do that. Even if he did call me Samantha."

"mmph… probably in case it fell into mortal hands."

"Yeah, but the Antha."

"The Antha?"

"Oh" he nods "Right. Should have been just Sam"

"Well, it's okay though. He might not know"

"I'll tell him" a nod "This is probably not a final draft. So correctable"

"No.. no, it's okay. It'd be different if he re-did it."

"I do believe you're a touch of a purist, my dear girl, not that that's a wrong thing to be"

"I am?"