Thor just nods, leaning back in his chair and topping up his glass as he looks contemplatively at the hammer. He's not quite sober enough to speculate too deeply on the implications of what it might mean if Tamrielic magic can overcome the Odinforce, but not knowing if it'll work at all makes him nervous. Maybe it's a little petty of him to worry about such things, but knowing that he's still worthy to lift Mjolnir despite his failures means more than he can articulate even when he's not drunk.

But dammit, now he kind of needs to know too. This'll haunt him forever otherwise.

He waves a little to the newcomer, a stranger he's seen in passing here and there, but nothing more. "A test of magic," he says, summoning his usual bluster with the ease of the inebriated, and probably booming a little louder than is really called for. "A hammer enchanted so that only the worthy may lift it!"