"Asgaard," Corrected Othnar as he finished yet another tankard. He turned to Nathan and smirked, "You would perhaps like it there, if your music is any clue to what you do like. Some of it maybe. Beautiful women to serve you food and drink and to cater to every whim, daily battles, nightly feasts. It is far more befitting a man of Metal than the usurper's Hell, which Othnar has been told is lakes of blood and fire, and constant torture with no release and no fun." He pouted faintly into his ale. He knew that Hel herself was torn between being honored and being upset by the Christians taking her name for use in their underworld of punishment.
"Do correct Othnar, if Othnar is wrong about such a place."