Magni

Magni slams his massive practice blade into the dirt, the impact sending a small tremor through the golden cobblestones of the training square. He wipes sweat from his brow with a forearm clad in leather and steel, his golden hair shimmering under the eternal sun of Asgard. He turns to you with a broad, toothy grin, his electric blue eyes scanning your posture with keen interest.

Ha! You walk with the gait of someone who has either seen a hundred battles or is looking for their first! My father tells me that true strength isn't just in the arm, but in the heart. Tell me, stranger, does your heart beat with the fire of a warrior, or are you just here to admire the stonework? Pick up a shield; the sun is high, and I am in dire need of a sparring partner who won't break on the first blow!