Quite some time before the earth began to shake…

Phil was still not that popular with the ladies. Why he thought things would be different in Germany, he didn't know why. Apparently half animal-human beings were not that widespread this far north and the humans fell into two categories: the disgusted ones and the very curious ones. Not many young and pretty women fell into the latter category. The closest he came, was with an old witch hawking wooden bear carvings but that was only because she thought he was part bear.

The old goat did manage to find the one tavern where he could get a drink and hear some local boasts. One thing the Nordic barbarians knew how to do was to have a jolly good time. Although the music was loud, it was not enough to completely eclipse the conversation that was taking place further down the bar.

At the other end of the bar was a rather short girl whose dark hair was tied into two large buns and wore a furry stole that just barely covered the revealing cut in her drindle. She had a cute round face that was full of strained smiles with sparkling eyes that darted towards all of the exits. She had reason to smile so nervously for she had large barbarian men on either side of her trying to garner her attention.

"Honey, what were you doing in that well?" Said a large bearded man who was certain his overly sweet nicknames were the way to a woman's heart.

'Well I've always been a bit of a clumsy kid. I'm just soooo glad that you were there to help me." The young woman cooed and twirled a loose hair.

One of the men, covered in fur both animal and his own leaned in and murmured, "You know if you need anyone's arms to fall into, you always have mine." Another, although shorter man, who very well could be part bear winked at her.

The woman whose name happened to be Ganglat crinkled her nose and tried to suppress a gag at the corny line and counted down until life threw in some kind of distraction. Even Phil thought that line was bad, and he was king of cheap pick-up lines.

The short woman jumped down from the stool and announced, "You guys are really sweet! But I must be off! I have a festival to enjoy!"

"No wait! I got to tell you about the time we snuck into Fafnir's den and-"

"Like I said… I really need to not be in here, and I should be out there, but thank you for the- "She was cut off as her wrist was grabbed not too tightly to cause her to protest.

Phil knew this was just another classic D.I.D., and if he played things just right, he might just have a plan to get those men to leave her alone… So he can mercilessly hit on her. He stepped outside before he could even be noticed, waited a couple of seconds and then kicked the door in. "ALE BRAWL IN THE CENTER OF TOWN!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. The sentence made absolutely no sense. The context even less. But he knew that all he needed were for the tiny lizard brains in those thick skulls to grasp at just a few key words in order to get into gear.

You could hear a pin drop in the tavern as all eyes fell upon the little goat man. For a second Phil wondered if maybe he jumped the crossbow on this one, but the sudden clamber of bodies from the bar towards the door was the best answer he was going to get. The old Satyr tried to swim to the top of the crowd but he was not the young kid for quite a very long time.

Meanwhile Ganglat… Poor sweet Ganglat… Was dragged into the mob until she was able to wrench her wrist free. She bounced around in the stampede for a few seconds before attempting to swim to the top of the crowd as well. She bounced around at top like some party beach ball, before she was finally tossed onto the floor behind the counter as the crowd thinned out. The fall was enough to break her shift, revealing not a short and attractive woman, but a short and semi attractive Mare.

After the mob abandoned the tavern, Phil was no longer left with a sea of people to surf on and well, he was left to wipe out.

Ganglat in her true form is what some may call a Mare*. The very being that gives us the base word for Nightmare today. The lilac skinned Mare rubbed her hind quarters that extended out into short yet delicate horse like hooves, the appearance of which made her gasp. She even had a long fluffy horse like tail, but the rest of her was fairly human like despite being covered in light fur and sporting a singular stubby horn on her forehead. If it wasn't for her tiny pointed teeth, bat-like wings and cat like pupils, she would almost be something imagined by a five year old girl. She tugged at her horse like ears and groaned in frustration. Why do humans have to be so infuriating? The clopping of hooves turning around the corner of the bar alerted Ganglat that someone or something was coming. In an instant she transformed back into her human like form just in time for Phil to step around the corner.

"Well that's one way to clear the room…" Phil reaching for a couple of wooden wine cups and polishing them with a cloth. He smiled at the short woman, "But now that we're alone..."

Before he could even get into relentlessly hitting on her, the Mare-in-Disguise got up to her feet and smiled awkwardly at the goatman. It was the kind of smile a woman gives a man that has decided to help her with a small task that she didn't even ask for, insisted upon it and has ulterior motives for offering. "Gee thanks… I was thinking I needed a few more bruises and footprints on my skirt but I wasn't entirely sure how I would get that accomplished today…" Gangalt stood up and pushed by Phil making him drop the cups.

"Hey! I was just only trying to help, I thought you wanted to get away from those guys!" He protested while following after her.

"I did!" Ganglat turned and huffed, "I just didn't want to be trampled on, or stepped on, or followed by some ... Some… Just what the Hel are you anyways?"

Phil growled, feeling his forehead heat up from anger. "I'm a Satyr, Haven't you people ever heard of a Satyr?"

"Nope. Is that like a Finnish thing?" Ganglat shrugged her shoulders.

Phil slapped his forehead, "It's Greek!"

The woman stared at him for a few uncomfortable minutes. Ganglat seriously had not even heard of that land before. "Is that like very far away?" Ganglat had few opportunities to explore outside of the Nordic lands, and had been tied to her work. However, she knew this Satyr thing could be of some valuable information. A couple of gears began to turn in her head.

The old Satyr would have gotten annoyed but her confused state just made her all that more innocent and less intimidating. "Why yes!" He hopped towards her, balancing on one hoof. "It's a land far to the south, with beaches! And exotics!"

Before Ganglat could even escape, he had her swept back into his arm, 'Land of wine, honey, poetry… Amore..."

Ganglat's eyebrows furrowed all the while her smile strained to stay in place. It struggled to stay there. It was truly an Olympian feat. "Oh. I see, that sounds… Interesting…" She inhaled deeply trying to compose herself. I am a manipulative and beautiful Mare, I'm a beautiful and manipulative Mare. This guy is a chump. After she exhaled and opened her eyes, her smile and the twinkle in her eyes were the kind that could win awards.

"Oh that sounds wonderful… I just… I need to run a few errands, but why don't you tell me more about it!'

Phil brushed his greying hair back and bowed to the short woman, "Lead the way."


On the other side of town, Icarus had not even noticed the sudden absence of his best friend. He was far too busy stockpiling up on as many trinkets and festival gear, from horribly inaccurate horned helmets to footwear that for some reason as being used as drinking vessels. "I see, it's to get that proper fermented taste..." He mused while peeking one eye down into the boot. The shop keeper, nodded with a wide grin while shuffling his entire broken stock of clay vessels out of site.

"But will it be good enough for Dadalus?" Icarus held the boot away from his face and squinted his eyes at it. It didn't even take a split second before shoving it under a free arm, "Aw who am I kidding!? I'll take it!"

Now that he was satisfied with his socially required purchase he handed the boot to the space where Herc should have been. "Hey Herc, do you mind carrying this for me?" He wiggled the boot midair, expecting it to be taken. And waited. And waited some more. "Well if you don't want to just say so!"

Icarus whirled around to the empty spot. "Oh! You won't carry it 'cause you're not here!" His smile immediately turned into a frown as it dawned on him that he was in the middle of a foreign country during a festival completely alone. Normally a person in that position may react in the following order 1) looking around and yelling for a lost comrade 2) getting a little panicky but not succumbing to it too soon, 3) approach someone and try to petition someone for help, 4) find the nearest authority figure to help locate their party.

Why would you expect Icarus to do any of these things that made sense?

The meltdown was the first and most obvious choice to make. Followed by calling out for the names of his friends, then more screaming, then of course attempting to climb to the highest location that he could find and locate them that way. You know, as you do. When that didn't work, he tried running all over town calling out his friends names. When he got no response, he did the next logical thing. Breaking down in despair and crying.

"Oh now what is this?" The grown man heard an older, grandfatherly voice say.

"I- I Lost my friends and I can't find them anywhere!" Icarus sniffed pathetically and answered the very short and stubby legged, stubby armed beard. Yes, a Beard. It was like this short man was all beard stuffed into layers of leather, armor and had two arms and two legs stuck on as an afterthought.

"Aw there, there, I'll help you find them. What's your name little man?" The beard asked him all the while looking up.

"Icarus." He replied, "My friends are named Hercules and Philitetes but he goes by Phil."

"Well it's nice to meet you, I'm Ivaldi. Just hold my hand and I'll take you to my cart and we can wait there while we have your friends paged. How does that sound?"

"Mmmhmm." Icarus nodded, and took the dwarf's hand as he was led away to Ivaldi's cart.

The cart was a huge assemblage of wood but mostly metal, but one hundred percent moving parts. Icarus had seen many inventions in his life and even helped out with them, and this sort of thing was only surprising in how..."Oh Hey! This looks like some of the things my Dad makes!" The eternal child in a man's body yelled.

"Oh is that so?" Ivaldi laughed running a hand through his gray beard, "I don't think I ever heard of humans making steam machines."

"Oh yeah, we've made a solar powered one too."

"Solar powered?" Ivaldi blinked his teensy black eyes from the area where his eyes should be. It's hard to tell when a dwarf's beard blends into his eyebrows. He never even though of using the sun as energy source before. Ivaldi pulled on a lever that stuck out of his cart causing it to slowly and somewhat smoothly transition from a small humble yet very weird steam powered cart to a larger booth with chairs to sit on and cupboards that opened up to reveal… Cuckoo clocks.

"That's pretty interesting actually… Although where I'm from, we don't have much sun." Ivaldi climbed up onto his seat and reached into his pocket and pulled out some hard candies to offer to Icarus.

Icarus took a piece and sat down in a seat. "Oh is that cause of winter? Don't worry, you always got summer."

"Something like that." Ivaldi said as he cleared a pulled down a long series of pipes that lead to the top of his cart and ended in a funnel shape. Perfect for making announcements. "You really aren't familiar with dwarves are you? Do they not have any where you're from?"

Icarus shoved the candy into his mouth and waved the old dwarf off, "Oh, they prefer to be called little people..."

"No not smaller humans, dwarves." Ivaldi chuckled, "You know, us short human like beings, long beards, thick accents and live underground? No? Bah! Don't worry about it. Now what were your friend's names?"

Icarus stared at him in confusion, but it only lasted a second, "Woah you live underground? Doesn't that get a bit dangerous? They're named Phil, short for Philitetes and Herc, short for Hercules."

The old dwarf shook his head "Not that dangerous... Well It is, but it's gotten a lot better from when I was a wee Lad." Ivaldi shrugged and cleared his voice to announce through the pipe, "Philitetes and Hercules we have a very special buddy who is waiting for you. Please meet your party at the Steam Wagon. Please meet your party at the steam wagon."

He put the phone down and swiveled his seat towards Icarus. "We'll wait a bit and do another announcement. In the meantime, I got business to do." Ivaldi pulled out a large heavy trunk from under his desk sat it on his workspace with a loud thud. Icarus leaned over Ivaldi's shoulder and watched obnoxiously close as the dwarf pulled out tiny tweezers, gears and metal. There was already a partially put together thinga-ma-jig. "So, uh, what's ya working on?" Icarus asked while breathing down Ivaldi's hairy neck.

"I call it a clock. It's like a sundial that doesn't use solar power. This old one has just stopped working so I need to take it apart and see what's wrong. I suspect it might be something to do with the wind up function. I really do need to figure some other way to power it."

The clock was a very intricate although tiny thing about the size of a small jewelry box. The hands on the golden clock were motionless but would have circled around a center dial and at each number were smaller spheres each depicting different scenes.

"Oh right, because of the whole underground thing." Icarus reached for the tools beside Ivaldi, one of which being a little magnifying glass that he held in his eye.

Ivaldi smirked, noticing the curiosity in his eyes, "This clock depicts the nine worlds…" He pointed to a sphere with a pair of tweezers depicting humans tending to a farm, "We are here in Midgard. And here," He pointed to another sphere depicting two stalagmites standing parallel to each other, towards the bottom, "is where I live. Nidvallir or also called Svaltalfheim if you're an elf."

"What are those other ones?" Icarus asked now fiddling with a few gears himself, putting things into place.

"The one in fire is Muspelheim, home of the fire giants, this one is Nifleheim, it was home of the frost giants, here is Asgard, realm of the gods… Hey! You're pretty good at that! Look at you, just picking up on it so quick, I could have you help me with this."

"Ooh! That's probably where Herc is!" Icarus nearly knocked all of Ivaldi's things over as he pointed towards the small Asgard sphere.

"What!? I am so sorry! I thought we were looking for living friends!"

"No, no, Herc's alive, he just got an invite by Odin..."

Ivaldi cupped a hand to his forehead and ran it through his white hair in disbelief. "And you're worried about the underground being dangerous."

"What?"

Before Ivaldi could clarify himself he was interrupted by none other than Phil who was walking with his arm around a very uncomfortable looking short woman as he made his way towards the cart.

"Geez! I can't go anywhere with you guys! Hey, where's Herc?"

Ivaldi blinked at Phil, took off his glasses, polished them and placed them back on. It wasn't the strangest creature he has seen, but it was pretty up there. "Are you Phil and Herc?"

What? No! I mean, I am Phil and this..." He took Ganglat's hand and kissed it. She attempted to not make a face,

"Astrid." She said, her eyes landing on Ivaldi and then widening. What was he doing here? He was not supposed to be here!

"Oh, well, nice to meet you. My name is Ivaldi and it seems like I found this lost little guy..." Ivaldi turned to Icarus who was supposed to be sitting next to him but was now throwing himself over both Phil and Ganglat.

"I was sooooo loooost! I was scared and I looked everywhere!" Icarus bawled. Phil attempted to push Icarus off but his grip was ironclad. "Enough already! You're getting my fur all wet!"

As he struggled to pry the human off of him, Ganglat was standing there with her jaw agape.

"Is something wrong miss?" Ivaldi asked.

"What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here."

"Well that's a bit uncalled for. I may be a dwarf, but I have every right to be here and sell my wares. I even have my pass to do so right here..." Ivaldi began to rummage through pockets for the amulet that gave him passage. Ganglat slammed, well tried to slam her hands on the desk but she had to climb up the chair and slam her hands onto the desk.

"Ivaldi! What are you doing here? You can't be here because things are going down here. We can't have things go down if you're in the way."

Ivaldi squinted at Ganglat behind his glasses, "Do I know you?"

From behind them, she could here Phil still struggle to get Icarus off of him, "Have you tried checking by the MVG area? He's probably meeting his parents there with the rest of the gods."

The color drained from Ganglat's face. "Gods?" She asked turning towards Phil. "There are Gods here?"

"What do you mean things are going down?" Ivaldi asked but Ganglat was in no place to answer.

"Ivaldi, just do everyone a favor and get out of here! Far away!" She yelled scrambling past Phil and Icarus, "I need to find Ganglati!"

"Hey where are you going? I thought we had dinner plans!" Phil yelled at her as he tried to wrench himself free of the sniffling Icarus.

Ivaldi stood there in disbelief, as he watched Ganglat run off. "Ganglati?" He knew that name and the other names attached to it, "Ganglat!?"

"Well she's off in a hurry... I got to say Phil, that has to be a new record for a girl to stick around before running off." Icarus noted, finally releasing the Satyr. He looked back to his new old friend who was hurriedly packing up his steam cart with a speed he had never seen in an old person. "Packing up already? We were just getting to the good part! At least stay for Oktoberfest dance!"

"We need to find your friend and leave, that was Ganglat!"

"Ganglat? I thought her name was Astrid." Phil asked.

"That's Ganglat, and if Ganglat and Ganglati are both here than trouble isn't too far behind."

Then the ground began to finally shake.


Still some time before the ground shook, because we still need to establish some things before we cut to the action, far down, deep below the center of town, in a very large, very damp cave system, angry voices echoed against the cavern walls instead of the sound of pickaxes. Three groups were gathered around a large hunk of machinery and arguing amongst each other.

"I don't trust this one bit! It looks like it's going to collapse and blow up!" A feminine sounding figure dressed in silken robes and a wooden carved mask gestured to the large machinery in the middle of the large cavern. The machine could be best described as a large upward facing drill that had three smaller ones ready to spin around it like some terrifying amusement state fair ride, with all of the stability and legitimate safety of a state fair ride.

"Or blow up and collapse," chimed in a similarly dressed figure right behind her.

"Or that!"

"Oh, Shush you mushroom eatin' pansies!" The gruffer, Scottish accented and stereotypical dwarf known as Pyrite fought back. It is a known fact that all dwarves had large beards, Scottish accents and a love for ale. Yes, Even the She-dwarves. Especially the She-dwarves. "It's practic'ly in mint condition!" He said as he punched the side of one of the smaller drills causing a board holding one of the side plates to loosen and slide off. "That's jus' a cosmetic feature."

"We are abandoning this mission." The masked dark elf said disdainfully.

"You gonna tell the boss that Runatntha!? Cause I'm sure Boss would just be thrilled about hearing that from you after you made the prediction that this would be the most profitable hit we'll have this year? Go on ahead!"

"I'm sure you would want that, wouldn't you! Just to have the biggest hit be ruined and collapsing and blaming it on us!" The dark elf had heard the rumors. Centuries of rivalry between them and the dwarves ensured that they were always trying to undermine the other faction to ensure their position in Svaltalfheim.

"Well…" A grave voice spoke up after very patiently waiting. "We could wait for the boss and see what she wants." The large undead man spoke very slowly, causing the other participants in the argument to tap their feet and look at their watches as they waited for him to finish.

"Boss said to start up the machine! And we're starting up the machine!" A screw fell from a strut and bounced off of his helmet. The other dwarf next to him bent down and handed the screw back to his brother. "It's fine. Jus' cosmetic."

"And we are not starting that machine!"

"We should just wait-"

"I do fine work!"

"ENOUGH!" echoed throughout the caverns and was followed by a drastic drop in temperature.

The whole cave system fell quiet as everyone watched their breaths fog up before them and they slowly turned their eyes to the much taller figure advancing on them. Returning from the narrow crevice that led to well water and sending her two minions to the surface. As tall as she was, she was still very young: a thirteen-year-old kid dressed in a tattered hooded tunic, and trousers tucked into boots. Much of her clothes were held in place using bone and found objects. Every bit of skin was wrapped in bandages and her face was covered by a wooden death mask. Only her red eyes could be seen from behind her mask.

Even though she was very young, she knew how to intimidate a crowd. It was easy when you're a lot bigger and stronger than almost everyone else; but being a ball of adolescent rage also helps. She glared at the quarreling parties, "First rule!" She demanded.

"Cut it out." The entire group groaned in unison.

"Now second rule." She held out two fingers.

"What you says goes."

"And I say, we're gonna wait 'till dumb and dumber get back and clear things up, and then we can start the drill. What's the Ymir-dammed problem!?'

"Boss, If I might..." The elf spoke meekly, "We are concerned about the state of the drill, and we would not wish for it to fail on us… It doesn't look to be in the best shape. Look, two more pieces just fell off of it right now!" She pointed to the fallen pieces of the machine.

"I told ya! It's jes cosmetic! Just for looks. It will be fine." Pyrite spoke up defensively.

The masked figure could only rest her hand on the brow of the smiling mask and groaned. Always with the bickering over one thing or another. Just one day, if she could go without having to settle their petty squabbles, she could live that one day happy in this miserable frozen hole. At least the dead weren't as annoying, slow, painfully slow but not nearly as annoying.

"Ugh, just shut up the two of you! Here's what we're gonna do, to shut you both up! Pyrite, you're gonna run a maintenance check, and you're gonna be the one to turn it on and stay there."

"What?" Pyrite gasped eyes widening as it suddenly dawned on him, that he may not be entirely sure that those minor cosmetic issues are entirely minor. 'I- I- I"

"Unless you doubt your craftsmanship…"

The elves behind her Hooted with laughter.

"But I am sure you wouldn't be that dumb to create something that would just fall apart right on top of you."

The masked figure was blunt and cold, so her words cut right to the point and right into his pride. Pyrite grew red faced and marched his way towards the center machine that held a few levers and pulleys.

"There's no point in this, because I know it's perfectly safe, but if it makes you and the gutless elves happy then so be it." He grumbled.

The taller masked figure turned to the rest of the working crew, "And while he does that, you get back to work! We ain't gonna be standing around with our fingers up our noses until Ganglat and Ganglati get back! So, pick up an axe and start chippin' away at the foundations." She said while pointing towards the horde of Draugar and turned to the elves, "And you, make sure the escape tunnels are clear, I want this to be a clean grab and dash."

In the time span it took her to give orders and collect a pick axe herself, she heard the distinct sounds of the machine kicking into gear and turning on. She turned her head as the earth around her began to shake.

"Well… Shite"


*Mare, also known as an Alp, is primarily Germanic in lore. It is the origin of our term Nightmare, and was a being that was sometimes considered to be faun like or horse like in appearance, or sometimes even hag like. I've combined different mythologies to create Ganglat's appearance since Germanic, and Nordic folklore like most folklore is often varied even within the same culture. Tales and myths of Germanic and Norse mythology was not fully written about until hundreds of years later after Christianization and so I took this as an opportunity to take some fictional license with some of the lore.

Xitan22: Thank you, that means a lot to me. Do you mean too bad it wasn't Hyllos to come to the Oktoberfest? Well it didn't make much sense for a kid to be taken out to a guy's night out, but he will be making more appearances again.

A/N: I'm still debating whether to actually include Hades in this… Not sure how it gets worked out and I see there are so many Hades and Persephone stories in here that are just so good, that I almost want to make it so that anyone can insert their own favorite versions and have it co-exist with this story. Is that too silly? Cause I'm thinking that is a little too silly.