While Amethyst is taking a nap, Quasi gingerly walks up to the Uaithine. The harp is an impressive instrument, albeit a double dick-shaped one. Even so, its detail and construction are marvelous creations of love. Firm curves, veins, micro details, and a plethora of other artistic flairs make this harp one of the greatest masterpieces of sculpture Quasi has ever seen. Clearly, Phallus had talent, skill, and far too much obsession with the male genitalia.

 

Other than looks, the construction and enchantments are at a level even Quasi struggles to comprehend. Sure, he notes the [Greater Durability] enchantment covering the entire thing, but deeper enchantments lurk within, inscrutable. The complexity and subtlety remind him of Mimir’s work.

 

“Are you going to keep staring at the cock or are you going to play with it?”

 

Quasi rolls his eyes at the grinning Hreidmar. The [King], having yeeted Amethyst across the room, looks more confident, especially with his goblet in hand and the respectful gazes of the audience.

 

“Don't rush him. The Uaithine is the greatest of legendary artifacts.. An artist must appreciate the tool before wielding it.” [Smith Lord] Forad exclaims.

 

Nearly all of the dwarves immediately nod in agreement. A city so devoted to art knows how to appreciate it, especially since most dwarfs often smith in their free time.

 

Thankfully, Quasi has seen enough art that appreciation doesn't take long.

 

He reaches out and pulls the penis shaped body into his left shoulder. It molds comfortably against him. The crowd oohs in unison, impressed at such micro-detail. A servant brings him a chair and Quasi sits, the harp cradled in his arms.

 

Quasi takes a deep breath and reminisces on all the times he’d played a harp. Specifically, it was on the tenth summoning where he’d truly learned the ins and outs of the instrument. That summoning had a political cast obsessed with music, and the greatest and most respected musicians were harpists. Those that had mastered the harp were treated as royalty without having to have the lineage.

 

He checks the action of the pedals, then exhales slowly. He reaches out and plucks a string. The clear note rings through the quiet hall and the enchantments on the harp start to light up. He plays a simple octave and golden light traces along the elaborate, veiny sculpture in his arms. He starts a simple exercise, Nonnah no. 2, playing it backwards first, from high to low then back to high, as he warms up his fingers. The glow reaches the base of the shaft and the four balls light up. Then Quasi reaches forward and starts a new exercise, commanding the strings where before he caressed. The heavy chords of Nonnah no. 6 thunder through the hall, each octave in a new key. Golden light climbs the pillar thrust upward toward the heavens and when pulsing light meets glowing neck, the entire crown, that broad glans, bursts into light.

 

Quasi’s eyes go wide as the Uaithine between his hands awakens.

 

 

A rush of cold air fills Quasi’s lungs as his senses enter the harp, and then extend to the Bards’ Guild. He feels the building come to life, long dead enchantments activate as the chasm of mana connects and flows into the network. The guild building bursts like the Rapture into vibrant golden light.

 

Then it spreads, as does Quasi’s consciousness. Golden light races through the city, tracing out the ancient lines of disguised enchantments. Civilians stop in awe as the ground comes to life and the lighted cavern roof above brightens and dances in a tumult of color.

 

Quasi feels the connection solidify. He feels the city, the streets, the residents- It's as though he has instant knowledge of everything within all of Svartalfheim; Every person, their every breath, every class, every skill, and if he looks deep enough, even their history.

 

A deep hum thrums through the whole city as the most exquisite sound system in the world turns on. The lights change and flicker softly to the cosmic background. The entire city waits with bated breath.

 

Quasi grins widely at the same time as Hreidmar realizes why the harp had been locked up for so long. Thousands of former [Kings] had warned against its use, but he’d never researched why.

 

Again, Quasi plucks a single string. 440 Hz, the purest A, rings through the banquet hall, castle, and cavern. Delicate turquoise suffuses the city, light enhancing sound. He follows the now unwound enchantments, reading how they work, and realizes that the Uaithine isn’t actually only an instrument, but a very fancy soundboard.

 

Quasi shoves mana into his shadow, [Pandora's Box] activates with a thought. His shadow extends around him and the dwarfs back away to give him space.

 

From out the shadow, undead skeletons with glowing violet skulls rise up. The undead would have been immediately attacked by the [Guards] and the more combat minded nobility, if not for the instruments in their hands.

 

The undead form up behind Quasi, each according to its instrument. A skeletal violinist steps forward and plays along with the solitary note. Each section adds their harmonics in turn and the city swirls with color.

 

Then silence and dark.

 

It starts with deep drums, deep flashes of red, a constant rumble that causes the entire city to shake, a startling rhythm that grows faster and faster. As the beat accelerates, Quasi activates the other mechanic of the Uaithine. The Uaithine, as a harp, is only in its unactivated form. Quasi raises his arms and the metal of the harp shifts and morphs. Like nanites, the harp turns into the musician’s instrument of choice. It accesses his memories and ideas, then reforms into an electric piano, connected headset included.

 

Grinning like an idiot, Quasi removes his tophat and puts on the headset. The undead behind him start to play other instruments, adding to the thunderous beat.

 

Like a man possessed, his hands land on the keys, and the rumbling beat is drowned out by sounds no normal instrument can ever produce. Foreign sounds from a foreign world. The melody passes from the orchestra, to his right hand, then his left, then the beats. As he plays, heads begin to bounce, feet start to tap, the lights flicker to the music, and the bass quakes through bones.

 

He can feel the population of Svartalfheim stand up. Their bodies start to move and shake. They feel the rumbling, the beats, and see the flashing light. Without thought or reason, they start to dance in sync.

 

The entire population of Svartalfheim, whether it be young, old, man or woman, all dance to the hypnotic rhythm.

 

Even the [Dwarven Archking], the leader of Svartalfheim, is forced to join in alongside everyone else.

 

_________________________________________________________________________

 

While an ancient city suffers the first rave party of its existence, the gods of Aesir commune in the re-creation of Asgard.

 

Odin watches from his throne as Thor, Frigg, Tyr, Balder, Heimdall, Idun, and Bragi arrive. Frigg, Odin's wife, makes her way to the smaller throne next to Odin. When she finally seats herself, Odin clears his throat.

 

“I called this meeting to inform all of you that circumstances have deviated significantly from my intended plans, as I’m sure some of you are aware.”

 

“The demons are coming.” Balder announces with an infectious grin, brimming with charisma, “but I see no reason to be distressed by such enemies.”

 

Odin nods, “I’ve already ordered Thor to recall his Champion and told the nearby kingdoms to raise an army to repel the demonic threat.” Odin pauses, his one eye glancing at the other gods. ”I have also awakened the Titans.”

 

“Madness!” Tyr yells, “Can those monsters even be controlled?”

 

Odin silences Tyr with a hard look that sends shivers down every divine spine. “Fusing their bodies with innumerable angels has given us the ability to control and target their aggression.”

 

“Still, their power is enormous. If even one goes out of control, kingdoms will fall.”

 

“Son,” Frigg intones, ever the strict and heartless mother, “Your father does this out of necessity, not choice. They are roused and needed for the upcoming trials.”

 

Thor sighs. “I agree with Tyr. They are too dangerous, especially against mere demons. My champion, alongside an army, are more than enough.”

 

“Alone, the demons are not a threat, and I would not awaken the Titans for them, but the world has shifted since the beginning of our war against the Olympians.” Odin takes a deep breath. “In the East, we have lost our ability to summon named angels- the reason is still unclear, but the tides of war are shifting. On the seas, the [Pirate Archqueen] confounds our navy and has completely disrupted our shipping. In the West, Muspelheim has risen and awakened along with the long-dead Egyption gods. But, none of it compares to what is coming from the South. A [Necromancer] [Emperor] has arisen with a host of monsters and undead.”

 

“Again?” Heimdall asks in growing exasperation, “The last one devoured nearly a quarter of the continent before he was stopped. Why are we only hearing of this now?”

 

“Because it was merely a [Necromancer] [King] before. Now that he is an [Emperor], he is a threat. So too, now is Camelot.” Odin explains.

 

“Isn't Camelot an Ally?” Tyr asks, confused.

 

“They were trading partners until they gave succor to our foes. Now they are enemies and must be quelled.”

 

“Strife and Chaos!” Bragi lilts, interrupting all the other gods, “I feel a fitting story coming.” he plucks a note upon a glowing lyre, “Enemies from all sides gather to overtake Asgard, only to find the hunt not a rabbit, but a dragon!”

 

The gods ignore him as he starts dancing.

 

“And what are we supposed to do?” Thor asks the major question.

 

“Raise armies. I require larger and greater armies. Tell all your kingdoms, [Paladins], [Priests]- raise your armies. The war will be won!”