Chapter 10: Building an Army

Loki faced the two rock trolls and said, "I'm here to see the Enchantress."

The rock trolls were stationed at their post, a wide, vaulted doorway that was the private entrance to their boss's headquarters, a large castle in the farther reaches of Asgard, only accessible by routes no longer traveled. They fixed their beady eyes on Loki and looked him over.

Loki wore his Asgardian robes as usual, the coat pushed back to reveal a long golden staff strapped to his thigh, and he carried an old leather satchel in his right hand. Neither troll seemed impressed by the sight of the Norse god of mischief or his weapons, but Loki saw them shift their bulk forms slightly, getting ready to swing their heavy axes at him if he made a wrong move.

Slowly, carefully, Loki lowered the satchel to the stone floor, leaving it beside his right boot. Rising to his full height, he dipped his fingers into a coat pocket and removed two chips of precious metal. He placed one in each hand, then slowly extended his arms so the trolls could see the chips that rested in his palms.

The nearest troll glanced at the offered chips while the other kept his own gaze fixed on Loki. The nearest troll shifted his ax to his right hand, then snatched the two metal chips with his left. He lifted both chips up to his eyes. With a grunt of approval, he handed one chip to his partner, who took it greedily.

Loki smiled politely, waiting for the guards to step aside and let him pass through the doorway. Neither guard budged. The nearest guard held up his newly acquired metal chip and grunted what sounded like a question.

Loki's brow wrinkled upward. "You want . . . more?" The troll nodded. Loki's brown eyes flickered to the other troll, whose jowls twisted back into a stupid grin that revealed yellow teeth. "Very well." Loki sighed. "If it's more you want . . ."

Neither troll saw the air behind them shimmering as the real Loki (for the one talking to the guards had been only an apparition) appeared behind them or the golden staff appear in his waiting hands. With surprising speed Loki ran the point of the staff through one of the trolls' foreheads as he simultaneously clobbered the other one over the head. The trolls teetered, then collapsed dead upon the floor.

The other Loki vanished as the real Loki dropped to a crouch and pried the trolls' fingers back, recovering the valuable metal chips that he had never meant for them to keep. Pocketing the chips, he grabbed his leather satchel, then rose and stepped over the bodies, moving fast through the vaulted doorway to enter a dark corridor.

Loki held his satchel as he strode forward through the corridor. As he neared the corridor's end, his nose perceived a strange sweet and drowsy smellCthe distinctive smell of incense blazing on a fire. The corridor emptied into a cavernous, shadowy chamber. A bright blazing fire sat in the middle of the chamber, with two trolls continuously throwing baskets of green powder into it. Smoke curled from the fire, along with the sound of a steady, monotonous thrumming sound coming from a musical instrument. The thrumming was easily unnoticed, but quickly got into your brain, making it hard to think. The smell of incense became stronger.

Loki had expected to encounter more guards, so he was not surprised as a dozen rushed at him from the shadows. "I don't want trouble," he said, keeping his grip on the satchel while he raised his free hand. "I just need to see your boss."

The thrumming suddenly stopped. A feminine voice called from beyond the pit, "An intruder? Let me see him before I have him skewered."

The guards removed Loki's staff while another took his satchel. Loki slowly raised both hands in the air as the cluster of guards nudged him towards the edge of the pit.

On the throne behind the pit sat a lovely lady, who wore a long, fluttering dress of dazzling green and held a musical instrument similar to a mandolin. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, with flowing blond hair and brown eyes the color of chocolate. Swas Amora, the Enchantress, who had begun learning magic as an apprentice of Karnilla, Queen of the Norns, but was eventually banished. She continued learning magic on her own, notably by seducing others well versed in magic and learning their secrets. In time, Amora became one of the more powerful magic-wielders in Asgard, with her magical arsenal focused on (but not limited to) charming and mind-controlling people. Her by-then well-renowned beauty did not hinder in this.

"Oh, Loki, Loki," she said, shaking her head sadly. "After all this time, why do you still not trust me? Can you not appear before me yourself, without these apparitions?"

Loki sighed, having been caught. He shimmered and disappeared. Now the real Loki (the real Loki, not the real-but-really-fake Loki) teleported into existence at the very foot of Amora's throne. "I'm sorry, dearest Amora," he said, "but one can never be too careful, you know."

The trolls advanced, weapons ready, but Amora raised her hand. "Leave us," she commanded.

The trolls warily backed out of the room, unhappy with leaving their boss alone.

Amora leaned forward to kiss Loki, but he backed away. "Now, now," he said, clucking his tongue. He knew Amora could enchant her lips so that by kissing virtually any man she could make him her slave for about a week, unless she renews the treatment. "None of that, darling."

"Why have you come, love?" she asked.

"Regrettably, on this trip I am not your lover," he said. "I am a courier. Hired to bring a satchel of gemstones for Amora the Enchantress." He tossed the satchel at her feet.

Amora picked it up and rifled through its contents. "Is that how you got in here? By bribing my trolls?"

Loki shrugged. "Good help is hard to find."

"Who hired you?" Amora asked him. "And what exactly does your employer want from me?"

"My client wishes to remain anonymous, for the time being," Loki said. Extending his fingers to gesture at the walls and ceiling, he continued, "He wants to purchase your services, along with your army of trolls, for use in his campaign against the Earth."

"Midgard." Amora sniffed in disdain. "Consider myself and my forces at your disposal. The men of that place are so weak-minded. They have so little stamina." She looked at Loki seductively. "Not at all like a certain Norse god of mischief I know."

Loki smiled.

His next stop was Svartalfheim, the realm of the Dark Elves. They lived under the rocks, in caves and underground. He sought an audience with Kurse. Kurse had originally been the most powerful of the Dark Elves and was coerced by the Dark Elf ruler Malekith the Accursed to fight Thor. Malekith, however, betrayed Kurse while he was fighting Thor, and in a bid to destroy the Thunder God ordered that a pitfall beneath the two be opened. Thor saves himself courtesy of his mystical hammer Mjolnir, while Kurse fell into lava. Kurse's enchanted armor saved his life, and he later overthrew Malekith in a bloody coup d'état and took control of Svartalfheim.

Now at the throne of Kurse, he kneeled respectfully as Dark Elves wielding spears surrounded him. Kurse sat on a throne at the end of the hallway, his towering height and wide shoulders almost blocking the throne from view. Dark Elves swarmed around him, their armor clicking like the exoskeletons of insects. Kurse's armor, flowing cape, and helmet were dark, painted here-and-there with a red the color of blood.

Loki kept his hands raised. "I am a courier," he drawled, using the same lines he'd used on Amora. "Hired to bring one thousand gemstones to Kurse, the ruler of the Dark Elves. The money is in the satchel that your henchman took from me."

"Gemstones?" Kurse's eyes flickered. "Inspect the satchel!"

Loki heard a shuffling sound from behind, and then the captain Dark Elf moved up beside him at the edge of the throne. Facing Kurse, he said, "The bag's full of gemstones, Lord."

Kurse leaned down, staring into Loki's face. "One does not simply bring Kurse gifts," he said. "There is always a catch."

Loki shrugged, trying not to inhale Kurse's foul breath. "I was sent to bring you the money in exchange for your pledge of service to the great Army of the Realms," he said. "My employer wishes to have you on our side in the battle against Midgard."

Kurse laughed. "My services are worth more than one thousand gemstones. Much more."

"My employer is very determined . . . and very generous. If you name your price, I am sure he will-"

"Your employer means nothing to me. My army is not for sale."

"I see," Loki said. "In that case, I shall take my satchel and leave you in peace.

Kurse sighed. "You may leave, but with an empty satchel. The gemstones stay with me."

"Hmm." Loki grimaced. "I don't think my employer will like that very much."

"He doesn't really have a choice. Nor do you. Consider yourself lucky that I don't order my men to flay you alive from here to the realm of Helheim, and then do something really awful to you."

Kurse's guards had a good laugh at this. Loki wondered if they laughed out of fear or loyalty to their master. Returning his gaze to Kurse, he said, "Perhaps there is another possibility. Perhaps I might . . ."

"Yes?" Kurse said impatiently. "You might what?"

"Kill everyone in the room."

Suddenly the room was filled with Amora's trolls. These were only a few of the vast soldiers now united under Loki's command. They immediately began to fight the dark elves in the throne room. Loki stepped back and watched his soldiers mow down the guards. The dark elves fought valiantly, but the trolls were too many. Loki found the captain elve, slain by a troll spear, and grabbed the satchel from the dead captain's grip. tossing it to the throne of Kurse.

Kurse growled and stood up. Now at his full seven foot height, his yellow eyes blazing, he said, "Perhaps I was hasty. I will join you, Asgardian. We will make the Midgardians our slaves, and the Dark Elves will become a name in the universe once again! And let us not forget the score we must settle with Thor Odinson!"

Loki smiled.

My, but it's hot in here, Loki thought as he entered the palace of Surtur in the realm of Muspelheim. Muspelheim was created far to the south of the world. It was a burning hot place, filled with lava, flames, sparks and soot. Muspelheim was the home the of fire giants, fire demons and ruled by the giant demon Surtur. He was a sworn enemy of Odin, which Loki hoped to use to his advantage.

The satchel-of-gemstones trick was not to be used today; Loki knew that no amount of bribery would convince Surtur, nor would a show of force like the troll army. He'd have to do this one on his own, demonstrated after he'd opened the palace doors with a short spell.

Now in the hallways of Surtur's palace, Loki was not surprised as two fire demons advanced on him, their axes blocking his path. Loki stood before them, arms spread disarmingly, and they failed to notice the staff that materialized in his hand until it was too late. The first fire demon was impaled, and as the second prepared to strike Loki fired a blast of energy from the staff's tip, disintegrating the demon.

Loki continued on, striding casually to the entrance of Surtur's throne room. Surtur's chief fire demon approached, muttering incomprehensibly. Loki raised the staff to the demon's heart, employing a mind-control spell he had used once before on several members of the Avengers.

It worked; the light drained from the fire demon's eyes, only to return a blazing blue. "I will speak with Surtur," Loki said. "Tell him."

The fire demon scurried off. Entering Surtur's palace throne room, Loki stood face-to-face with the fiery villain himself. Surtur was an immense and malevolent elemental fire demon whose power was of apocalyptic proportions. Standing over 1,000 feet in height, he sat on his blazing throne, surrounded by fire demons. In his hand he held the giant sword Twilight, also known as the Sword of Doom, composed of a metal known as Scabrite which could only be found in the mines of Surtur's realm. The sword was magical, capable of manipulating vast amounts of mystical energy, such as shattering dimensional barriers and inhibiting Odin's powers. Loki had once temporarily tapped into the power of the sword to change Thor into a frog. That had been fun.

"He's here!" the fire demon chief said, running to the foot of Surtur's throne. "Wake! Master, wake! He's butchered the guards! He's-"

The rest of the demon's sentence was left unfinished as Surtur swatted him aside like an insect. He tilted his flaming head forward and gazed at Loki. "You arrive a day early, kill two of my guards and expect me to deal with you?"

"I have only killed two," Loki replied. "Do not make me consider my generosity."

"What can I do for Asgard, Loki Laufeyson?" Surtur asked.

Loki gestured at the crowd of fire demons behind him, watching his every move. "Dismiss the audience, demon."

Surtur raised a hand, and the demons left, clearly unhappy with leaving their king alone with Loki. Surtur leaned forward even more, hands on his knees now, his face several meters from Loki's "What can I do now for Asgard, Loki Laufeyson?"

"Not Asgard," Loki replied, feeling the heat from Surtur's proximity. "For me. I will return here tomorrow in my official capacity. This is a personal issue, and will end to my satisfaction."

Surtur chuckled. "Heh. Do not even think to try to perform a mind control spell. They do not work on the great Surtur."

"I was not, demon," Loki said. "That is not my way. You haven't dealt with frost giants in a long time. The reason why stands before you. Step carefully."

"Do you know the bounty the Asgardians have for that head of yours?" Surtur asked. "What the . . . darker factions alone offer should be a compliment to you, Loki. The king's son, alone, in secret . . . if you disappeared, no one would know. I see you know enough to step carefully. But tell me, are you brave or foolish?"

"That is not the question, Surtur," Loki said. "The question is: are you?"

Surtur leaned back on his throne. "Oh, Asgardian, always making everything so difficult."

Loki half-turned to see a large group of armed fire demons attempting to surround him. He shrugged and conjured up his staff. If they wanted a fight, then so be it.

He moved so fast he cut down the first fire demon before the latter had a chance to draw his sword. The others wised up and gave him a berth. The second guard he shoved bodily into the wall so hard it left cracks, in both the wall and the demon's bone structure.

The third guard gave a cry of "Nnnnaaahhh!" as an energy beam from Loki's staff turned his body to flaming cinders. A second sweep of the staff felled two more guards and knocked the last one down. Loki advanced, stabbing downward with the point of his staff and killing the demon.

Now alone in the room, save for Surtur, Loki tilted his head back and gazed upwards. Surtur smiled. "Loki Laufeyson, let us not be hasty," he said.

"You called me an Asgardian. You know nothing," Loki said, filling his voice with mock anger, though it was not difficult. His own birthage had been hidden from him, and therefore made it easier to hate being called an Asgardian. "Mind tricks are not of the Frost Giants. We prefer force."

As he spoke he muttered a spell, choking the air from Surtur's lungs. The fire demon lord gasped and brought his hand to his chest as if he had just taken a spear to the heart. He slumped in his throne in obvious agony, his breath caught in his throat and blood vessels in his head beginning to rupture.

"Do you understand?" Loki asked.

"Yes," gasped Surtur.

Loki released his enchanted grip on Surtur, and the fire demon lord began to breath again. He eyed Loki. "You drive a . . . hard bargain," he said. "It is difficult not to respect that."

Loki smiled.

Loki sat somewhere near the Equator at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean on Earth, surrounded by a sphere of air from which he could breathe. It wasn't important; he could just as easily mutter a spell to give him gills, but that would ruin his good looks. And he wanted to look his best for the Jormungand, the Midgard Serpent.

Technically, Jormungand was his son, which made this meeting a little awkward. He was the child of Loki and the sorceress Angerboda, along with the Fenris Wolf. Realizing that Jormungand was potentially a danger to the gods of Asgard, Odin the Allfather had banished him to the depths of the ocean of Earth. Jormungand, however, not only survived in the oceans but grew to an incredible size. He was long enough to encircle the Earth, hence the name Midgard Serpent.

"Jormungand, I need your help," Loki said. It was sort of strange sitting here talking to a giant snake's head underwater, but then again, he'd done stranger things.

"Ahhh," said the Midgard Serpent. He spoke in a deep, rich voice, with a growling undertone. "This time, the story's roles are reversed. This time, the prodigal father returns to the son." A hissing laugh came from his throat.

"Wait just a minute now," Loki said, growing defensive. "I haven't been here for you? You never call me, not even on Father's Day."

"It's a little hard to get from realm to realm when one is banished to the oceans of Earth," Jormungand hissed.

"You're getting tired of constantly biting your tail, aren't you?" asked Loki. To fully encircle the Earth, Jormungand had to clamp onto his tail with his teeth.

Jormungand winced. "Yes, is does hurt from time to time."

"Well, then, that's a reason," Loki said. "The other reason is this; if our army takes over the Earth, you won't have to hide under the oceans anymore. I promise you will be free, to go wherever in the nine realms you please. That is, as soon as we take down Asgard in order to break that dreadful curse Odin put on you."

Jormungand's eyes glittered. "Then it's a deal," he said.

"Good," Loki said. "And I promise this year I'll send you a card on your birthday." He smiled.

"The army is ready," Loki said. He knelt at the base of Shredder's throne room; well, not him exactly. It was another projection of him, his conscience calling from through the realms. The real Loki was in another realm.

"You have done well, Asgardian," said Shredder. With his head facing the apparition, he was seated in his secret lair in an industrial district in New York. As the flickering projection of Loki returned his gaze, he continued, "I trust you left no evidence of your hand."

"I never leave a mess unless I'm paid to leave a mess," Loki replied curtly. "I'm a professional."

"Payment will be discussed upon your return. Give us your location so we can tune the portal to your energy signatures and let the army through."

Loki nodded, and vanished. His real form sat relaxing under the tree of life, Yggdrasil, an eternal green ash tree. The branches stretched out over all of the nine worlds, and extended up and above the heavens. Yggdrasil was carried by three enormous roots, the first root in Asgard, the second root going all the way down to Jotunheim, and the third stretching down to Niflheim. Loki was chomping on a golden apple, one of the apples that granted youth to its consumer. They tasted really good, so much better than the apples on Midgard.

As he ate, Loki did what he did best: he schemed. Those foolish humans believed that the army would help them conquer Midgard. But in reality, they had no idea what cunning schemes Loki was dreaming up. After all, he was the god of mischief.

Loki smiled.