Part 1: The First Day
The great hall is a warm place, a vast room with golden walls, polished wooden tables, and carved marble pillars. The vast space is illuminated overhead by seidr candles, which never seem to burn down. The drinks are plentiful, and the food is in abundance. Delicacies from every realm are easily within reach. There are roasted meats, grainy bread, and fruits or cheeses from Vanaheim. Bowls are piled high with candies, and there are champagnes bottled from Alfheim's bubbly rivers. Asgardia's honeyed mead flows freely, and everyone sits at long tables in the spirit of sharing the assembled bounty.
There is talk of trade between factions and artisans, and it's plain to see that everyone is wearing attire according to the realm they hail from. There's no strict dress code. It's just as likely to see an Elf clad in a veiled dress and jeweled tiara as it is to see a warrior in furs and leather armor.
Despite the festive air, there is a vague undercurrent of tension between each faction, as if they have learned to grudgingly tolerate one another over time...but only barely. The only glue holding everything and everyone together seems to be the Asgardians.
For now, everyone is already deep in their cups, and the food from the palace kitchens is plentiful. It's one last celebration before the cold months of winter set in. Bards sing tales of summer hunts, and in between songs, the musicians play sweeping Asgardian waltzes as dancers take to the floor.