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[color=red][b][h3]#0[/h3][h2]W O R T H Y[/h2][/b][/color][/center]
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[center][h3][color=gray][b]"WHOSOEVER HOLDS THIS HAMMER IF HE BE WORTHY SHALL POSSESS THE POWER OF THOR"[/b][/color][/h3][/center]

So read the inscription on the Mjölnir, inscribed in the runes of the World-Tree by the Allfather's own hand. Prince Thor stared at it, squatting in front of the plinth in the royal armory upon which the hammer rested. He frowned as he read the inscription again, for what was very likely the literal millionth time. He hated this hammer. It was ugly, for starters. A square, grey brick with a stunted handle, it bore no resemblance to the elegant golden spear Gungnir that the Dwarved had forged for his father, despite both being forged from precious uru. Furthermore, the inscription was ludicrous; "the power of Thor?" He already was Thor, and already had his own power. What would happen if someone else picked it up, would they get his power? It didn't make any sense.

Prince Thor rocked back on his haunches, taking up a sitting position as he continued to stare miserably at Mjölnir. He hated this hammer, he thought again. He didn't need it, but it had hung over him like impending doom since he was old enough to read. Its inscription was a challenge, he knew, and it was the only challenge that he had ever failed to measure up to. Whether it was hunting, fighting, wrestling, eating, drinking, wenching, sailing, or singing, there was only a single soul in all of Asgard that could hope to best Prince Thor. Somehow, despite all of that, he was still not "worthy." It felt almost like a joke, as though this were all a ruse meant to keep him unhappy. Thor snorted to himself mirthlessly, thinking that his brother Loki would struggle to come up with a more infuriating trick.

Pulling himself back onto his feet, Thor stared down at the hammer, this time with fury crackling in his eyes. "[color=red]Who is unworthy?[/color]" He challenged Mjölnir. He grabbed its handle, wrapped in the tanned skins of star-drakes, and the hammer did not budge. He pulled, first with one hand, and then with both, straining fruitlessly against the infinite weight of Mjölnir's enchantment. He let go, pausing for a moment to rub his hands together, static electricity sparking between his palms, and grabbed Mjölnir's handle again in a fierce grip. He heaved with all of his strength, eyes and veins glowing furiously with all of his divine might. Against strength that could shatter mountains or bury civilizations, the hammer did not even tilt. Lightning arced across Prince Thor's body, leaping from him to Mjölnir, other weapons in the armory, and eventually the walls and floors as he willed the power of the storm into his body. As his power reached its peak, Prince Thor cried aloud in rage before his strength gave out, releasing the hammer's grip. In that instant he was flung across the room as though tossed by a giant, and smacked loudly against the far wall.

The young god groaned, rising back onto his feet, and after parting his golden hair from in front of his eyes, he saw that the hammer had not moved at all, still mocking him from its place on the plinth. He also saw that he was not alone. A raven was perched on a suit of armor, staring at Thor with its beady black eyes. The prince eyed the bird coldly; his father's envoy. The King of Asgard did not often send for his eldest natural son and heir, and when he did the tidings were usually not good.

"[color=red]Well? Out with it.[/color]" He commanded the raven.

"[color=black]Prince Thor,[/color]" the bird croaked, "[color=black]Lord Odin summons you to Valhalla.[/color]"

"[color=ed1c24]Did my lord father give a reason for summoning me?[/color]" Thor attempted to inquire.

"[color=black]Lord Odin summons you.[/color]" The bird repeated.

Thor sighed, looking at the mess he made of the royal armory. Weapons had been flung about or burned with electricity, and lightning strikes had left huge singe-marks in the walls and floors. "[color=ed1c24]I have a bit of goat meat I was saving. I'll give it to you if you don't tell my father about what I was doing in here.[/color]"

"[color=black]Meat! Meat![/color]" The bird crowed, and Thor gave it the scrap of jerky he had in his pocket.

Thor emerged from the armory, the guards posted at the door saluting him as he exited. Drums were beating, not far off. War drums, the young god recognized them in an instant. Sól, the daystar of Asgard, shone brightly overhead, and Thor shielded his eyes to get a better look around. Everywhere he looked, men and women were scurrying, carrying weapons and provisions. Horses and goats carried huge carts loaded with supplies, and dozens of Valkyries flitted overhead, either overseeing whatever preparations were underway or carrying out some other errand for the Allfather. The prince began to have an idea for the reason his father had sent for him, and picked up his pace, running energetically to Valhalla.

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The divine longhall of Valhalla loomed over all of Asgard from its perch atop the mountain Glaðsheimr. The hall was huge, golden, and imperious. Rather than shingles, its roof was shod with the shields of enemies the Allfather had slain, and its beams and rafters were carved from the spears of slain giants. Thor approached from the west, barreling up the winding mountain path that led to Valhalla's doors. It was easiest to reach the sacred hall when borne on a Valkyrie's wings, but Prince Thor made do. During his ascent he had seen the longships docked on the sea of stars, preparing to depart and wage war on Asgard's enemies. The sight had made Thor clench his fists with excitement, sparks dancing across his knuckles in anticipation of glorious battle.

Thor strode in through Valhalla's western doors, paying no mind to the carving of Fenris that hung over the doorway. Inside, the Einherjar, Odin's companions and warriors from across the Nine Realms, were not feasting and drinking as was their typical pursuit, but making ready for battle. Thor could hardly contain himself as he strode down the length of the massive hall toward his father's throne at the feasting table's head. Many of the Einherjar offered friendly greetings and other salutations to the God of Thunder as he passed, and Thor answered their regards warmly. Thor counted many friends and comrades among his father's army, and was eager to fight at their sides again.

Finally at the heart of Valhalla, there he waited. The Hooded God, the God of the Gallows, the Lord of Ravens, the Master of Runes, the Wise One, the King of Asgard and the Lord of the Aesir. Spear-Shaker, Lie-Teller, War-Maker, Hel-Binder, and countless other names, all of them and none of them true. Odin Allfather. He was dressed in his full panoply of war, his storm-grey beard hanging over his raiment of golden uru mail, the holy spear Gungnir clutched in his gnarled hand. At his heels two massive wolves sat attentively, staring at Prince Thor as he approached. Freki and Geri most commonly greeted Thor by pouncing on his chest and licking his face, and so he wondered what held them back. Ravens crowed overhead in the spear-rafters of Valhalla, occasionally swooping down to land on Odin's shoulder and whisper secrets in his ear. The two largest birds in the hall, a pair of grim-looking ravens with blood on their beaks and talons, perched on the back of the Allfather's throne. They too watched the approaching prince warily. Last of all did Odin himself turn to acknowledge his son, his single grey eye regarding him much the same way a wolf regards a deer.

As Odin continued to keep his silence as Thor stood before his throne, the prince bent down on one knee and greeted his father and king, "[color=ed1c24]Hail, Lord Odin Allfather,[/color]" said the smiling prince, loud enough for the Einherjar to hear, "[color=ed1c24]I, your loyal son and vassal, have answered your summons.[/color]"

Odin continued to stare down at his son where he knelt, his grim expression unchanging. Thor noticed only now that his mother, Frigga, Queen of the Aesir, stood at the side of Odin's throne. He was about to greet his lady mother, when he saw her face and noticed that she had been crying. Before Thor could ask what troubled her, Odin's voice boomed across the great hall. "[color=gray][b]Einherjar, leave us. I must take council with my son.[/b][/color]" The sound of his voice was like steel striking bone, the whisper of magic through the leaves of Yggdrasil, and the taut snap of a hangman's rope, all at once. At his command, the soldiers in the hall packed up their weapons and armor, and gradually shuffled out of Valhalla's many doors. Thor rose to his feet to watch them depart, turning back to his father once the last of them was gone.

"[color=gray][b]I hear you have been making trouble in my private armory, Prince Thor.[/b][/color]" These were the first words Odin spoke to his son once the hall was empty save for the Gods and their familiars.

"[color=ed1c24]Do not believe all you hear from these birds, father.[/color]" Thor replied, his roguish smile returned. "[color=ed1c24]They are very easily bribed.[/color]"

Odin ignored his son's jest, continuing, "[color=gray][b]That place is reserved for the relics and weapons of the mightiest heroes in Asgard. The crowns of my father, and his father before him rest there, and you think to make it your personal playpen.[/b][/color]"

Quickly realizing that this meeting was not going how he thought it would, Thor tried to plead his case, "[color=ed1c24]Father, I-[/color]"

"[b][color=gray]You will be SILENT![/color][/b]" Odin cut him off, banging his spear against the floor. Outside the hall, thunder rumbled, and the sun seemed to momentarily dim. The brief flash of rage in his eye gave way to bitterness and resignation as Odin continued, "[color=gray][b]I have tolerated your childish antics for much too long. You play at war, and think of kingship as a game. You squander your birthright with frivolities, and fill your bed with whores, unworthy to carry the royal bloodline of Asgard.[/b][/color]" At that last criticism, Thor spared an embarrassed glance toward his mother, but she only looked back at him with tears welling in her eyes. Suddenly flushing with shame, Thor's attention returned to his father. "[color=gray][b]I am as much to blame as you, as I have failed you by not providing the firm hand that you clearly needed. No more. If you are to be my heir, you shall learn what makes a God, and what makes a King.[/b][/color]"

"[color=ed1c24]I know these things, father![/color]" Prince Thor retorted, angry tears in his eyes. "[color=ed1c24]I shall prove it to you![/color]"

Odin scoffed, a sound like the creak of a burdened tree branch. "[color=gray][b]You know many ways to make battle and slay foes, but not how to lead men with courage and honor. You know how to wield your strength and privilege to cow others, but not of the duty they confer upon you. You know of the might and majesty of our ancient kingdom, but not the sacrifice it took to build it. Until you learn these things... Until you are worthy of your birthright, you have no place in these halls, Prince Thor.[/b][/color]"

Thor could scarcely believe what he was hearing. Banishment? Exile? The idea seemed ludicrous; he felt like he was stuck in a bad dream that he couldn't wake up from. He looked to his mother with desperation in his eyes, only to see that she had turned away from him to sob quietly into her hands. Frigga would clearly be no help in this matter.

Looking back to his father, Thor asked, "[color=ed1c24]Is that why all of Asgard prepares for war? Are you sending me to lead a war in your honor and prove my worth?[/color]"

"[color=gray][b]No, my son. You will have no part in the battle that is to come, but you will prove your worth all the same. I am sending you away to Midgard, the Middle-Earth. You have some affection for those people, as I recall. Go there, and learn to rule with justice and wisdom. You may return to us, Prince Thor, once you have proved you are worthy.[/b][/color]"