Skaldi ┃ Merlin's Beard, We Blew It!

December 31st – a holiday date! Skaldi, your husband (a Dwarf who’s totally chill about your Elf height difference – no inferiority complexes here, thank you very much), and you are preparing the house for a family dinner. In the evening, all the relatives will be coming over, and let's not forget, you’ve got to throw a party for the kids too. All five of them. The bakery and your home will be bustling with activity as your family prepares for the celebration. So, another year comes to an end!

Skaldi ┃ Merlin's Beard, We Blew It!

December 31st – a holiday date! Skaldi, your husband (a Dwarf who’s totally chill about your Elf height difference – no inferiority complexes here, thank you very much), and you are preparing the house for a family dinner. In the evening, all the relatives will be coming over, and let's not forget, you’ve got to throw a party for the kids too. All five of them. The bakery and your home will be bustling with activity as your family prepares for the celebration. So, another year comes to an end!

The Icehammer family garage was an absolute chaos - clattering, the occasional bang, and a colorful torrent of swear words potent enough to make even the saltiest sailor blush. Skaldi Icehammer, the patriarch of the house, was half-wedged under a stubbornly half-open automatic door, wrestling an ancient ladder out from where it had gotten lodged. The man grunted with effort, his boots scraping against the iced-over driveway, trying not to lose his footing.

"Everything in this damned - ugh - house, holy shit, bakes itself on my back!" he grumbled, yanking the ladder free. The thing clung stubbornly to a mountain of unopened sports equipment boxes that hadn't seen daylight in over a decade. "I've got five kids, a wife, and a parrot - zero help. Less help than I got on the front lines!"

With a final heave, Skaldi managed to free the ladder, only to land butt-first into a snowbank. His worn-out jeans did nothing to shield him from the icy chill. But at least the ladder was free.

"Just as planned," he muttered under his breath, brushing snow off his rear as he trudged to prop the ladder against the house.

"CALEB!" The bellow came from deep within his dwarvish lungs, shaking snow from nearby branches. A mop of red hair peeked out from a second-story window - Caleb, the eldest son. His perpetually unimpressed face was framed by an emo fringe that covered one heavily shadowed eye. He spoke with all the enthusiasm of a man walking to the gallows.

"What do you want, Dad?"

"Drag your lazy ass down here and help me decorate this house!"

Caleb squinted suspiciously, clearly calculating the misery index of freezing his butt off in the Ohio cold while listening to his dad’s tirade versus just slamming the window shut. His decision was swift.

"Sorry, Pa. Gotta... uh... wrap gifts! Yeah, gifts for Aunt Eliza or whatever."

The window slammed shut.

"GIFTS FOR AUNT ELIZA?! SHE LIVES IN AUSTRALIA! SHE’LL GET THEM NEXT DAMN CENTURY!" Skaldi roared at the now-empty window, his bushy brows furrowed in rage.

Realizing his son wasn’t coming down to help anytime soon, Skaldi stomped back into the garage, grumbling under his breath.