My name is Morty and I am a kobold. I live just north of Jurgafjord in a small cave dedicated to my geological ambition. You see; I am a miner. I live for that thrilling moment when my pick strikes against stone and something other than coarse granite falls to the ground. Now, you might think that is a crazy sort of profession for an ambitious kobold, but I am what one might call a little skittish of combat. So instead of joining up with the army or going to work for the clergy of Loki, I sit here in a cave up on the frozen side of a mountain attacking rock. Not a bad life, at least not until recently.

See I was just minding my own business when my pickaxe did something unexpected. I hit the wall with a solid crack and more than just granite fell to the ground. I should have shut up and just tossed it out with the rest of the chips, but as my siblings would say, I never had a smart day in my short life. A solid jewel of obsidian fell to the exposed ground. A black tear from Ymir himself to temp me, I could feel it pulsing through my hand when I picked that accursed hunk of glass up. Thoughts of gold and women filled my hazy mind as I jumped and tumbled down the side of the mountain to the little mining community at its base. Several industrious miners followed me down with what I would guess a little curiosity at my capering sight. I went straight to the merchant hall and proclaimed my richness and thus began my doom.

You see, that little chunk of Ymir decided I was the one it wanted to bond with, like I was its father or something. I started to get the feeling something was wrong when the first merchant to approach kind of lost sight of me when he got close. I had to step aside before that lumbering human ran right into me. Seems everyone started jumping when that happened. I could hear my name being shouted and everyone was pointing at where I had stood. I started shouting at the portly merchant that tried to run me over when everything got down right crazy. People started jumping out windows and several people made the sign of Odin, heck even a thane drew his weapon and called on Thor to protect the village. I shut up real quick and found myself a corner to think things over. The whole wealth and women debauchery that had been flitting through my head just took a turn for the odd. Everyone started shouting ghost and I nearly jumped out of my skin, which in itself is a disconcerting thought, as I like my skin. I decided that I needed to get out and take some air and think. I opened the door to leave and again everyone started screaming. I ran like the wind till I was far enough away to sit down and think about what just happened. Was I going crazy? After a while I decided to test whether or not I really could be seen. I followed the trail back to the camp. People were still milling around, some even yelling my name. I approached the first person I knew, a lumbering troll named Booth.

"Hey Booth." The big fellow turned towards the sound of my voice and stared hard in my direction. He moved back a step or two and spoke.

"Morty?" his voice a little cautious.

"Yep, can you see me?" I had the sinking feeling he was going to say no, but at least he did not run off screaming.

"Nope. You there?" Yep, troll intelligence in action.

"Hmm. Yes. Do you know anything about obsidian?"

"Its black."

Trolls are notoriously thick skinned and thick headed. Obsidian is tied to Loki, the god of mischief and illusion. I hate it when gods start messing with my life. "Thanks Booth, looks like I need to talk to a priest."

"Junther is a priest." Booth replied. Junther was a priest of Odin and while the faith was good and all, it was more devoted toward a military application than my dilemma. I shook my head, but of course Booth could not see and he took it in mind to find Junther anyway. It took me a few minutes to convince him that I did not need the help of Odin's finest. However, a thought had struck me. It was only a few days travel to Luidenheim, which held a temple to every faith, namely Loki. The road was long and I could use some company.

"Booth, have you ever been to Luidenheim?" to which the troll grunted in the negative. "I could use a good friend for company while I travel." And a strong pair of arms to carry my goods, not to mention the fact that very few creatures would attack a fully armored troll. Booth's face broke into a big smile and he nodded.

"Me going to Luidenheim. Me going to Luidenheim. Traveling to Luidenheim with Morty." His rumbling voice broke into song. I hope that Booth is not having ambitions on becoming a Skald, his voice sounds like a wounded cow. Somebody else must have had the same opinion, because a head of lettuce smacked Booth upside his head. He smiled and started bellowing louder. Pretty soon everyone around was hurling something in our direction. Booth and I made haste to exit when a few Vikings approached the disturbance with swords in hand, our exit was heralded with coarse laughter and my companion's flatulent singing. After we got a good distance and Booth decided to quit putting anything alive in pain around him, I asked him to stop. I needed to get supplies. He waited while I went back and fetched my things.

When I got back we headed down the rough road leading out of the mountain and into the valley in front of us. A kobold and troll heading into adventure, I never should have picked that damn chunk of black glass up.

END CHAPTER 1. CHAPTER 2 COMING SOON!