Bad news! The dwarf tumbling troupe I hired as the entertainment for the harvest festival just backed out. Would you mind performing instead?
No problem! I've just written a new comic piece about Thor's turn as a beautiful bride… maybe I can set it to music in time for the festival.
That would be awesome. You're the best!
My lord, I am having some major writers' block. My king, Harald Halfdane, wants me to write a commemorative piece about his battle exploits in Frisia, but I can't figure out where to start! Any advice?
Take a long walk to clear your head. That's what I always do. Oh, and make an offering to me. Honey mead is my favorite.
Inspiration has struck at last! Everyone, be on the lookout for my next great composition, which I plan to call the "Ballad of the Brising." It's the story of how Freya got her necklace from the dwarves.
Oh no, Bragi, I hope you're not too honest.
Why, Freya? Got something to hide?
A poet is never more honest than he needs to be. Truth is poetry, and poetry is truth! (I'm deep, I know.)
Hey Bragi! Thanks for the explanation of poetic terms at the feast last night! But the mead was soooo strong that I can't remember what you said, LOL. What would you say to writing it all down?
Well, I'm really busy with my compositions. I still haven't finished the "Walling of Asgard," which I started ages ago. But maybe if I had help?
I'll help! I've been meaning to write a book about poetry for a while now. I'm planning to call it Skáldskaparmál. Maybe we could work together.
Awesome! I'd also like to include my story about the mead of poetry.
I agree—I loved that one! It was also kind of gross, though. Who knew that poetry all started with the gods' spit?
Thought you'd keep me out of Aegir's feast last night, did you? Too bad for you Odin is my half-brother!
Loki, I've already apologized nine times, plus offered you my sword, horse, and arm-ring as a peace gift. What more do you want?
Just some respect, Bragster. To think that a wimpy ninny like you would actually attempt to prevent me from entering Aegir's hall boggles the mind.
You're calling Bragi a wimp? That's ridiculous! You're lucky that he's so patient, Loki, otherwise you'd be in a corner with your tail between your legs, nursing your wounds.
Now, now, calm down everyone. Let's just all try to get along, OK?
Really, Idunn, I can't believe you're defending the man who killed your brother. What a traitor you are!
That's never been proven!
Great lord of poetry, what should I do? I've fallen out of favor with my patron. King Björn won't even let me sit at his table anymore! What can I do? Help!
Simple: devote your next composition to praising his battle skills and listing his winnings. He'll realize right away how valuable your services are to him. And if not, you can always offer them to another king—one more generous with the mead and gold, you know…
Ah, so that's how it is, Bragi. Now I know what to do to keep you satisfied. Ha!