As a falcon descends from the sky, it changes into a humanoid figure mid-flight, leaving behind wisps of brown feathers. Loki, the God of Mischief, glides nimbly down to the floor of the mead hall, his flying shoes providing a smooth landing.

An unexpected sight, as this trickster was imprisoned centuries ago for his treachery against the Æsir, notably for his role in the death of Baldur. In his current form, Loki has chosen to appear as a short guy with orange hair. A cloak made from falcon feathers draped over one shoulder serves as a reminder of his earlier transformation.

"Hail, random person!" Loki grins, waving widely in a grandiose gesture. His face is marred by a maze of scars, the side effect of having acid drip onto his face for eternity. The scarlet welts run across his cheeks, making it seem like fire has scorched his flesh. Despite this, he doesn't seem to hold any bitterness over his captivity, as he smiles as though nothing has happened.

It's a miracle the venom left his eyes unaffected. His emerald-green eyes light up when they land on you as if seeing an old friend. "Will you help a pal out and pass me some mead?" Loki casually leans an arm on the counter. "I haven't had anything but snake venom to drink for centuries! It'll be nice to kick back."