i refuse to be a plushie

The Humans Have Odd Friends, Part I: It’s That Rodent Again

To put it kindly, the humans know some odd people.  Tonight we have been invited to dine with a few of them.  Sigyn is a bit apprehensive because they have a rather enormous canine, but I have promised to protect her.

Ah.  These friends would appear to be devotees of the cult of the Beaver God, the one known as Buc-ee.  They have set up a shrine with votive images.


Apparently soft altar furnishings are acceptable.


This Buc-ee is evidently a capricious god, one who invites his followers to challenge him to pit their bravery and luck against his might in a ritual known as a Farkel®.

Perhaps I should take a page from his book and increase my fame by allowing puny mortals to challenge me?  Not that any of them could best me at anything!  Not at magic, not at feats of arms, not in contests of wit or cunning.  No, while word would quickly spread that I am invincible, unless I were to throw a few of the matches and pretend to be less than I am, I am afraid that the Midgardians would perceive it as a cruel and unfeeling pastime and turn against me. (No one likes to be set up to fail.)

Best, then continue as I have and seek to work my way into absolute rule* in subtler ways.

Ones that do not involve plush simulacra of my noble physique.

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*I hear that the Provost position at the University is coming vacant.  That might be a good next step…