Against his better judgment, Hrothgar allowed his men to experiment. They hunted a Direwolf, harvested its heart, and fed a distilled serum to Pippin. The farmhand didn't become a god; he became a frenzy. His eyes turned bloodshot, and his muscles spasmed with unnatural strength. He was no longer a boy from the fields; he was a weapon of the company. Chapter IV: The Long Road Home
They were camped near the snow-dusted village of Weissenstein. The contract was simple: "Drive off the intruders." But as the sun dipped below the horizon, the "intruders" weren't bandits. They were —fallen knights clad in heavy plate, their eyes gleaming with a zeal that suggested they hadn't eaten or slept in years. Chapter II: The Crucible of 1.5.0.12
With the knights defeated, the Crows didn't find gold. They found a journal—the research of an .
As they sat by the fire, Hrothgar looked at his men. Half of them were held together by bandages and strange potions, and the other half were one bad contract away from a shallow grave. But they were brothers. And in a world that wanted them dead, that was the only coin that mattered.
