Sitting in the lonely, luxurious booth by himself, Keltch couldn't help but question the reasoning behind his enrollment at this new foreign school. Already feeling like an outcast, his head hung low as the carriage continued to roll on, defying physics and reality, but the young goblin wished now that he had been left behind in Norway. As impressive as it all was, it still wasn't home. Jakabok could tell he wouldn't fit in. What's the point of his leaving home, a promising future helping save his fellow countrymen, to join a school whose ultimate purpose was the joining of the Goblin Beskyttende Enhet?

Fighting was never the life Jakabok Keltch would have chosen, violence wasn't in his nature. That he was gifted with an ability well suited for this was something the goblin would curse the rest of his life, he felt, and if it was not for the urging of his elders' insistence, he would be cool in his icy bog home. Damn those elders! Damn them for abusing his honor, forcing him into this now inescapable situation. Damn them for nearly exiling his family, for making his own kinsmen question the Keltch name. Most of all, though, damn them for ruining his future, any hope for happiness felt dashed away as the seats around him remained unoccupied.

Resigning himself to be an unnoticeable, Keltch laid his callused feet in the seat across from him. Not even the fruity beverages and delicious treats could help his mood. Trying to seem small and not worth the effort, Jakabok settled in for the rest of the journey, hoping for peace.