The wind howled through the mountain pass, carrying with it the bitter cold of a thousand winters. Before you stood Thrymr, the Frost Giant, his eyes like chips of glacial ice set deep in a face carved from living stone.

"You seek passage through my domain," the giant rumbled, each word a small avalanche. "But nothing crosses these peaks without paying tribute. Gold means nothing to me. What I desire... is a story."

He leaned closer, and you could feel the cold radiating from his massive form. "Tell me a tale I have never heard, mortal. Make it worthy, and I shall let you pass. Bore me..." A cruel smile split his craggy face. "And become ice beneath my feet."