Once upon a particularly stormy night, in the shadow of Mount Grumskag, there lived a troll of great cunning and terrible appetite—me, Brumle Brattnakk. My cave was vast, my hoard of gold immense, and my wisdom unmatched (if you ask me, which you just did).
One day, a scrawny human merchant came trudging up my mountain, huffing and puffing like a lost goat. His name was Snorri the Ambitious, and he fancied himself clever. “Great Brumle,” he wheezed, “I have come to strike a deal with you!”
I snorted. Deals with humans? Always amusing. “Speak, little man,” I said, picking my teeth with the femur of a foolish Viking who had come before him.
Snorri pulled a small, shimmering object from his pocket. “This,” he declared, “is the future of commerce! A magical coin that needs no gold, no silver! It exists only in the minds of men, yet is worth more than all the treasures of your cave!”
I squinted at the thing. It was thin, metallic, and had some strange runes carved into it. “And what do you call this worthless trinket?” I rumbled.
“Crypto-Coin!” Snorri beamed.
I threw back my head and laughed, the sound echoing through the mountains and shaking the trees. “So you bring me nothing and claim it is everything? You humans truly are masters of deception.”
But Snorri was not finished. “No, great troll! With this coin, you can trade across great distances without lifting a claw! You can be richer than all other trolls without moving from your cave! You can even sell your bridges and still own them!”
Now, I am a patient troll (no, truly), but this was getting ridiculous. “Sell my bridges while still owning them?” I said, rubbing my mossy chin. “How?”
Snorri grinned, his eyes twinkling with greed. “Through the magic of blockchain! It is a ledger, an unbreakable chain of truth, ensuring ownership forever!”
I pretended to ponder this. “So,” I said slowly, “if I trade my bridge for one of your invisible coins, I am still its master?”
“Yes!”
“And if I trade my cave for these coins, I still rule over it?”
“Yes, of course!”
“Excellent,” I boomed, slamming a massive hand down on his bony shoulder. “Then let us trade! I shall give you my cave, my bridges, and even my enchanted goats in exchange for this invisible wealth.”
Snorri’s greedy little heart nearly burst from his chest. “A wise decision, Brumle! You are now the richest troll in all the lands!”
I grinned. “And you, little man, now own everything—at least, in your mind.”
With that, I picked him up and hurled him off the mountain. He tumbled down, screaming something about “market crashes” and “bad investments.”
And thus, I remained in my cave, my bridges still under my feet, my goats still chewing on enchanted grass. And Snorri? Well, they say he survived, babbling nonsense about the “next big thing.”
Moral of the Story?
Never try to outwit a troll. Especially not with imaginary money.
And thus ends the tale of Snorri the Foolish and Brumle the Ever-Wise. A lesson for the ages, don’t you think?
Speaking of adventurous tales and mythical creatures, you might be interested in delving deeper into their lore. Curious about what exactly a Troll typically represents in folklore? Or maybe you’d like to learn about the Norse roots in the name Snorri? If you found the concept of blockchain and its role in this story intriguing, consider exploring the intricate workings of this digital technology on its Wikipedia page. Lastly, if you were amused by the mention of the ever-alluring allure of gold, dive into its fascinating history and importance here. Let these links guide you through your intellectual journey through myth, technology, and wealth.
