Long time ago, far away, in the ancient lands of Norrvald, nestled between shadowed mountains and sprawling frost-laden forests, there were whispered tales of a tree said to hold divine power. This was the
Ygglysian, the Sacred Tree of Lost Myths. Its roots were believed to extend across realms, nourishing both the visible and hidden worlds, binding the fates of all beings. The tree's sap could heal wounds, its bark could ward off curses, and the faintest touch of its leaves was said to grant wisdom to those pure of heart. The journey to find it was one of unimaginable peril, for no mortal knew its true location; it lay cloaked in enchantments and guarded by beasts ancient and unforgiving.
Skoll, the troll of the Northwood Caves, had little interest in divine quests or the troubles of men. He was large, as trolls tend to be, with skin the color of storm-clouds and eyes as pale as moonlight reflected in icy pools. His hands were like boulders, powerful but rough and scarred from years of solitude and survival. Yet Skoll was no mere brute. Beneath his gruff exterior was a being of quiet wisdom, a creature who had spent many nights under starry skies, pondering mysteries and wondering what lay beyond his small domain.

A spirited group of adventurers, united by their unique costumes and the mysterious Brakk they carry, ready to tackle whatever comes their way.
It was by pure chance, or perhaps fate, that a wandering storyteller crossed paths with Skoll one frost-ridden evening. The human was lost, shivering in the cold, and when Skoll found him, the troll's usual instinct to turn away from such encounters faded. He offered the stranger shelter within his cave and listened as the traveler spun tales of distant lands and fabled wonders. Among these tales was the legend of the Sacred Tree, which piqued Skoll's curiosity in ways he could not ignore.
The storyteller mentioned a clue:
"Follow the river of stars," he said,
"and the tree will reveal itself." Before dawn broke, the stranger was gone, leaving Skoll to ponder whether the tale had been a dream or reality. But the idea lingered, settling in Skoll's mind like the last ember of a fire refusing to die.
And so began Skoll's journey.
The first step was leaving the Northwood Caves, a home he had known for centuries. He lumbered through ancient forests and forded icy rivers, guided by an inner pull stronger than anything he had felt before. Days bled into weeks, and his provisions of wild berries and root vegetables soon dwindled, yet Skoll pressed on, sleeping beneath starlit skies and growing leaner with each passing night.
After many weary miles, Skoll arrived at the River of Stars, a tributary that sparkled in the moonlight, carrying fragments of stardust in its swift currents. For the first time, he understood the storyteller's clue. He trudged alongside the river, feeling its strange warmth radiate up through his bare feet, as if the waters carried life itself. The journey became harder with each step as the land turned treacherous and unfamiliar. Winds howled through jagged cliffs, snowstorms descended without warning, and shadows seemed to twist and move with a mind of their own.
One night, as he rested by the riverbank, Skoll was beset by a monstrous creature - a serpent with scales of pure obsidian and fangs like spears. The serpent was ancient, guarding the paths to the Sacred Tree, and its eyes gleamed with malice as it hissed,
"Turn back, troll! You are unworthy of the Ygglysian's blessing."
But Skoll, though exhausted and cold, rose to his feet and clenched his fists. He roared back at the serpent, his voice echoing through the ravine.
"I seek not power or blessing but discovery! I will not falter!"

In this hidden cave, Norv embraces the wild with an undeniable strength. Water trickles behind him, and the aged stones reveal secrets of the earth, while his intense expression hints at untold adventures waiting within this mystical domain.
A fierce battle ensued. The serpent struck with venomous fury, but Skoll dodged and countered with the force of an avalanche. He grappled with the beast, ignoring the sting of its poisoned fangs. Finally, with a mighty heave, Skoll hurled the serpent into the river, watching as the current swept it away into the depths.
Battered and bleeding, Skoll stumbled forward, every step a testament to his resolve. He could feel the tree's presence drawing nearer, a hum that resonated in his bones, guiding him through forests darker than midnight and over cliffs so steep they seemed to touch the edge of the world. Hunger gnawed at him, and exhaustion was a constant companion, yet he found strength in the memory of the tales he had heard, and in the realization that he was more than a simple troll - he was a seeker of truths.
After many trials, he came upon a hidden valley bathed in ethereal light. At its center, the Ygglysian stood in its magnificent glory. The tree was massive, its trunk twisting upwards like a column of ancient wisdom, and its leaves shimmered with a thousand hues, each one a fragment of pure magic. The roots pulsed with life, stretching into the earth like veins of a living, breathing being.
Skoll approached cautiously, his heart pounding. He reached out and placed his rough hand upon the bark, feeling a warmth and peace that flowed through him, melting the fatigue and pain of his journey. The tree spoke to him, though it had no voice, sharing visions of the ancient world, of countless travelers who had come seeking its wisdom, and of realms beyond mortal sight.
In that moment, Skoll felt his spirit expand, filling with the essence of the Ygglysian. The tree's wisdom coursed through him, revealing truths that had eluded even the wisest sages. He understood now that strength was not in brute force alone, but in the courage to seek, to question, and to endure hardship in the name of discovery.
Skoll knelt before the Ygglysian and bowed his head, humbled and grateful. Though he yearned to stay, he knew he could not keep this place for himself; he was merely a part of its ancient story, a fleeting moment in its vast existence. The tree blessed him with a single leaf, golden and luminous, which would never wither. With it, he would carry a piece of the tree's wisdom wherever he went, a reminder of his journey and the courage that had brought him there.

In a breathtaking rocky realm, the enigmatic figure of Zog captivates with its formidable horns and regal presence, illuminated by a brilliance that pierces through the misty atmosphere.
As Skoll made his way back to the Northwood Caves, he felt changed. His step was lighter, his gaze sharper, and his spirit aglow with a quiet resolve. Tales of his adventure soon spread, and the troll who once shunned company became a legend among those who valued knowledge and bravery.
Thus, the story of Skoll, the troll who sought the Sacred Tree, passed into legend. His leaf became a symbol among travelers and wanderers, a reminder that even the most unexpected souls might find greatness in the pursuit of truth.
And so ends the
Chronicle of Skoll, the Seeker of the Ygglysian.