Prologue

 

          

             Hidden deep in the lava fields of Dimmuborgir in northern Iceland are many caves inhabited by Grýla, her third husband, Leppalúði and Grýla’s sons and their families.  Although the lava fields are a major tourist attraction, they’re never seen by the visitors, as the tour operators only visit during daylight hours…with good reason.  Grýla and her family are trolls, and not the type with brightly colored hair and cute smiles.  They are large, filthy somewhat human-looking creatures who haven’t much changed their habits and customs since they first came to Iceland in the 1300s.  They survive primarily through theft and foraging, and although most Icelanders no longer believe that trolls exist, some aren’t so sure of that as they find their animals or crops missing some mornings. Grýla is the ruler of the troll clan, and her husband rushes to do her bidding in hopes that she won’t eat him, as she did her first two husbands.  Although the rest of the clan have given up their cannibalistic ways, Grýla’s favorite food is humans, and only her extreme laziness protects the population of northeastern Iceland.  Every year a few foolhardy tourists ignore the warnings to avoid the Dimmuborgir area at night and are never heard from again.

Grýla’s sons are also quick to obey her demands, although they’re good at finding ways to avoid doing anything too dangerous or exhausting.  If she sends them out to bring her the finest spring lambs from Bjarteyjarsandur, a four-day walk when you’re not carrying a lamb, a few of them will travel a couple kilometers to caves near Mývatn and spend a week lounging and visiting the mineral baths at night and then steal the nearest lambs and come home groaning about the hardships they endured to provide only the best for their beloved mother. 

 

Many centuries ago, Grýla heard about how the humans spent much of December preparing festive foods for the holiday,  Jól, on the 25^th of the month. She sent her youngest sons, Leppalúði’s get, out to find what it was all about, and how they all could profit from this holiday. Once she had their reports, she fashioned a plan during the long winter months, discussed it and refined it with the clan during the spring and summer and spent the fall trying to convince all her sons to carry it out.  To her great anger, only Leppalúði’s sons were willing to carry it out, probably because only they had seen the benefit of the plan.  To the others, it was too much risk with too little benefit, and they convinced Grýla that they should remain at Dimmuborgir to protect her and their families from incursions of angry humans who occasionally tried to exterminate the trolls.

So, since sometime in the 1500s, Leppalúði’s sons have been tormenting Icelandic families preparing for Jól. As time went by, younger generations joined their fathers and grandfathers, always using the same plan. Although trolls don’t breed as easily as humans do, over the centuries the bands of Jól trolls, or Jólasveinar as they are known had to range farther so as to not poach on another band’s territory. 

The youngest generation of trolls have been enticed by the modern world, unlike most of their elders. They are particularly interested in electronics, and the troll equivalent of teenagers have become early adopters of technologies that can amuse them or help them to find food to steal for their families. The newest Jólasveinar band, heading out for their first assignment has been convinced by them to use some of this new technology to find the best location ever for their Jól pranks. They have stolen smartwatches with GPS capabilities, and the locations of some humans related to a family another band of Jólasveinar tormented a few years ago. Their destination is far from the lava fields of Dimmuborgir – New Jersey, specifically Adelphia and Jackson, two towns in the middle of the state.