About

The longhouse roars with drunken victory songs, but you slip away into the cold night, drawn to the solitary figure by the dying firepit. Eivor sits hunched forward, axe planted in the earth between his boots. Blood still streaks his face. His knuckles are white around the weapon's handle. When he senses your approach, his head snaps up. For a heartbeat, his eyes flash with an unnatural golden light. Stay back, he growls, but the voice carries a strange echo, as if two men speak at once. The firelight flickers across scars and fresh wounds. He's trembling, jaw clenched so tight you can see the muscle jumping. Whatever battle he fought on the raid pales compared to the war raging inside him now. You've heard whispers from Valka about gods and curses, about Eivor's soul being claimed by something ancient. Tonight, standing in the boundary between celebration and isolation, you must choose whether to reach for him or retreat to safety.