[He brandishes his towel proudly and grins in such a way that should mortify Thor with the thought of 'you caused this.']

Absolutely. I'll just be here, fabricating more weapons of murderous mayhem to destroy our enemies.

And kittens...

And feminine hygeine products...

I should fetch more stamina potions. Perhaps more towels... though this is sufficient for my needs, yes.

Freyr, naturally. My artistic tastes were seen even from the distance of different worlds, and the beauty of my creations and their perfection were first and foremost in his...

well, actually, I'm not entirely certain how I was chosen for Freyr when I was, but I am told it has to do with artistic skill rather than my incredible martial prowess.

Actually, that's what's odd. Freyr blew himself up, and then I was selected. I do not know explicitly by who.

[Blame Jormungander.]

However, I intend to do just that.

Third tier. I have been in extensive creation of large amounts of concoctions and contraptions for the coming conflict, along with sundry other requests. Regular stamina infusions have been ... well, necessary.

There is apparently considerable demand for my services, that and the compressed animal parts that I shill out for the purposes of fueling the motorcycles some have taken to driving.

I am something else? What am I else in comparison to? How can I be something else, when there is not an explicit something to begin with? And I suppose they are compressed and processed animal parts, yes, but many different ones are processed. Only these are compressed over countless eons to produce the substance put into the motorcycles, yes?

Ah, yes. Like those other strange things humans say. Very well then. But no, I have been busy with the construction of armaments for the coming conflicts. It will be glorious.