May War Spare No Soul; Pity No Family

“Show yourself coward!” Thor shouted into the open temple room.
“You call me a coward,” the beast snarled, “yet you are the one who attacks our temple. Kills our priests and priestess on sacred grounds. Attacks a child and threatens him. You want your sorcerer, well here I am.”
Thor tightened his grip on Mjolnir. His gaze shifted to his fallen comrades, before looking back at the man responsible for taking each of them down.
“They will live,” the sorcerer snarled at him. “Unlike you, I do not wish to spill any more blood on these sacred grounds. Jotunheim has had enough blood spilled on her soil.”
“It will not be enough until every Jotun has bleed into the ice.” Thor’s grip on his hammer tightened even further. He could feel Mjolnir vibrating with his rage. “You brought this one yourself when you stole the Casket.”
The Jotun laughed darkly. “Stole? Tell me, Prince Thor, how does one steal something that already belongs to them. If anyone is the thief, it is you and your All-Father.”
“You know my name, why not tell me yours.”