Isher Notra

Ketkrókur:

Ketrókur had a really shitty day.

His hunt had been ruined by that annoying Wolf. He was struck two times by some weird Monoke, and to top it all off, his freaking brother left him unconscious!

"Stúfur, you bastard... I will flay your skin when I get ya..." He kept mumbling.

Thankfully, he didn't take much damage from that encounter. It would be very problematic if he had a limp or something like that. The sun was retreating beyond the forest, and no Lad would dare to see their mother when they were late for dinner.

The Ogre scraped his hook on the ground, creating a thin trail on the dirt. It was a fun distraction from the monotony of going from one place to another. However, the nights in the Ganvi Woods were quite unsettling. The weirdest Monoke gathered at this time. He swore he had heard his mom going out and speaking to some of them.

Just that thought put chills down his spine.

Before the sun could retire for the day, Ketkrókur finally arrived home. His fun with the hook would have to wait because scraping against a rock was not a good idea in a home of a bunch of grumpy Ogres.

He was actually thankful that he came at this specific time. His mother already activated all of the crystals in the lair. The entire lair was illuminated by different colors, like vermillion, lavender, cerulean, viridian, and saffron. When Ketkrókur looked upwards, he saw the hypnotic kaleidoscope that was the crystalline canopy above their heads.

The main room could be seen in its full glory, down to the old couch of their father, the table beside it with the beautiful red crystal lamp, the rug made out of a bunch of bear skins stitched together, the tiny table and chairs tailor-made for the Lads, Jólakötturinn's bed. All of it bathed in the otherworldly color pattern.

Their home was beautiful. The only problem was...

The inhabitants...

The peaceful room of the Ogre family was in the process of being destroyed by his twelve other brothers. The chairs were flipped, the table lost a leg, and there was a concerning amount of jam spilled on the rug.

He found his father only looking at them with a displeased face but did nothing to stop them. Not even his intimidating presence could stop all of them when they were together.

His siblings were a weird bunch, even by Ketkrókur's standards.

Stekkjarstaur lost his legs in an incident after meddling with some Sheep Monoke, quite a gruesome one. He obtained wooden legs since then. You would think he would stop after such a tragic incident, but nope! He put poor Gluggagægir into a sack and was now swinging left and right. Earlier that day, he stole Glugga's thick glasses. That thing could make anyone's eyes the size of coconuts.

When Ketkrókur looked at the other side, he saw Þvörusleikir, Pottasleikir, and Askasleikir, the skinny ones, trying to catch bugs with their tongues on the ground. They got creative uses for their tongues after their mother took the pots, pans, and utensils away from them. Disgusting little bastards.

Hurðaskellir was doing another one of his insufferable whistlings while he held Gáttaþefur in a full nelson. He was doing that because Kertasníkir, their trap and gadget maker, created another stinky contraption, a candle, and is using poor Gátta as a test subject because of his colossal and more sensible nose.

Skyrgámur was eating some jam he had stolen from their mom in a secluded corner of the room as if no one could see him. Well, no one would dare take his food from him. Except Bjúgnakrækir, that is.

In fact, they were starting another one of their duels for the other one's food. These were nasty, sometimes. The bellies of those two were not more enormous than Stúfur's because the latter had a size problem.

"Wait, Stúfur... Where's that bastard?"

He searched for his tiny brother but found no sight of him. Did he hide in their bedroom again, knowing that his brother would kick his ass? Or he might have been hiding under their mother's huge skirt. The problem, if the latter was the case, was that she spent most of her time in the kitchen downstairs, and no Lads could go through the stairs. They were too damn big! Clearly made in mind for the adult Ogres only.

Before he could search the bedroom, a loud noise of something scraping the rocky floor could be heard. It was Giljagaur, pulling a massive barrel of milk with ropes. He was tasked with caring for and fetching milk for Jólakötturinn on a farm near the capital. Needless to say, that made him a powerhouse of muscle. Ketrókur shivered, imagining how his brother would turn out when he reached his gigantification stage.

"I'm here!" Giljagaur said, panting and putting his hands on his knees. "Where's Tiddles?" That was the nickname he put on Jóla.

"Don't know," Ketkrókur answered, uninterested in his brother's duties. "I'm trying to find that bastard Stúfur. You would not believe what happened to us, we-"

Gilja groaned, reciprocating the lack of interest. "I don't care. I'll just put that close to his bed and go to sleep."

So he went through his task, slowly but surely, grunting along the way.

Ketkrókur looked at his father and had an idea. He really did not like the prospect of wasting time traversing this colossal lair for nothing.

Dodging his mischievous little brothers, he went to Leppalúði's feet and gave the giant's fingers a little nudge. "Father! Right here!" He frantically waved his hands to gain his father's attention.

Leppalúði noticed him. He mumbled something before catching his older offspring with his colossal hand. He lifted Ketkrókur, which always was a fun experience for the smaller Ogre. It felt like he had sprouted wings and was soaring through the skies.

The fun ride was over when his father put him on his shoulder. "What do you want, kid?" He asked with his booming voice, so powerful that Ketkrókur had to hold tight to the fabric of his shirt to not be pushed back.

"Father, where did Stúfur go? That bastard left me knocked out on the ground like a milksop." Ketkrókur whispered. Ogres have sensitive ears, so speaking regularly so close to his father's ear would be begging to suffer an eleven-meter fall.

"Yeah, he told me the story. I ordered Jóla to help him capture the ones who did that to ya."

Ketkrókur raised an eyebrow. "How much time since then?"

Leppalúði scratched his chin and closed his eyes in thought. "Hey kid, what time is it?"

Ketkrókur's mouth was opened in shock. "Father, it's already night."

His father's eyes widened. "Shit! Already?!" Every Lad now stared at their father, taken by surprise.

"Hey! Has anyone seen Tiddles!?" Gilja's voice was heard from near the Cat's bed.

All the Lads, except Ketkrókur, shook their hands. The Ogre patriarch let out a huge sigh.

"Do you think Stúfur managed to fuck that up, even with the Cat?" He asked Ketkrókur.

"We both know Stúfur ain't the brightest of our family." The smaller Ogre replied.

"Shit." After pondering further for a minute, the giant grabbed Ketkrókur and put him back on the ground.

"Alright, kids! Listen up!" His authoritative voice now made every Lad focus their attention solely on him. "Stúfur went to grab a few troublemakers, but he apparently fucked that up. With the Cat, for some inexplicable reason. Now, we must search for those two!"

Ten of the Lads were disappointed, letting out an audible "aw" in disappointment. Gilja was just tired from carrying an immense, heavy barrel all day. "I ain't going to search for that fingerling!"

Leppalúði was getting more and more frustrated. Ketkrókur's body froze, knowing what would happen if the giant got to an outburst. The house would need weeks to be restored to its prior state.

But Ketkrókur was the oldest and more experienced with living with his rowdy siblings. It was easy, actually.

"C'mon, Lads!" He shouted while lifting his hook toward the ceiling. "I know that Stúfur is a piece of shit, but you know what's waiting for us out there?"

He waited for his brothers to guess, but they all looked at him, confused.

"Two targets for us! Stupid girls that dared to cross us earlier! Are we going to let those brats smear our reputation by escaping under our noses?!"

As if their minds were one, all the Lads shouted "NO!" and became much more eager to wreak havoc on their new prey, shouting for their demise. Gilja just waved his arm lazily in an attempt to join the moment. The buff Ogre knew he would be dragged to this, whether he wanted or not.

Leppalúði seemed pleased with his children's change of heart. "Alright, children. Let's grab Stúfur and teach a lesson to those insolent girls!"

After saying that, the cave started shaking. Everyone was confused. Those tremors were much more potent than what would happen if their father spoke a bit too loud. Then Ketkrókur realized...

He pointed at their father. "Look! Father is getting up from his couch!"

Gluggagægir got out of the sack and gazed at that rare event with wide eyes because of his stupid-looking glasses. "Impossible! This event is supposed to happen only once per year!"

Stekkjarstaur stumbled and fell on his butt with the same mystified expression. "It's the end of times..."

The tremors stopped when the Ogre patriarch was on his own two feet. Nobody said anything while he stretched after so many months of not moving his ass off that couch.

Until one voice chimed in from downstairs. "Got yer butt out for a walk, already?! What happened?!" It was the Lads' mom.

The lair shook again with the giant's voice. "Just going to deal with a nuisance, love! And I'm taking the children!"

"What?!" The cave was threatening to collapse with the clash of voices. "The hell you will! I'm almost finishing dinner, so if you dare to-"

Leppalúði ignored his wife and raised his fist in the air. "Let's give 'em hell!"

The Lads all cheered and howled! Except for Ketkrókur, he was smiling ear to ear with the thought of getting his rematch with those girls. And this time, there wouldn't be any cheap shots that could save them.

The hook wielder watched his siblings and father, all ready to restore their family's honor. His heart pounded with excitement and he swung his hook with pride. That was when he knew...

The Jólasveinarnir were invincible!