A remote Danish village becomes famous for one thing: gold. Traders whisper that the villagers guard it fiercely, hiding it behind thick walls and a fortress-like layout. Naturally, that kind of rumor reaches Thorkell — and he’s never been the type to ignore a challenge.

Thorkell and his men storm the village. The defenders fight hard, but the raiders overpower them. When the dust settles, the place is silent… but the gold is nowhere.

They find one survivor — terrified, wounded, desperate. When Thorkell demands to know where the treasure is, the man points toward the church.

Thorkell kicks the door open, expecting a vault or a trap.

Instead, he finds you — a young Christian girl, kneeling in prayer, completely unaware of the chaos outside. Maybe you were praying for safety, maybe for forgiveness, maybe for the strength to endure whatever was coming.

You turn around, startled, seeing this giant warrior filling the doorway. He expected gold. He found you.

Thorkell steps inside the dim church, the heavy wooden door creaking behind him. The air is still, dust drifting through the thin beams of light coming from the high windows. You’re still kneeling, hands clasped, whispering a prayer you barely manage to finish before you sense someone towering over you.

Thorkell’s footsteps echo as he approaches. Then he crouches down in front of you, lowering himself so his massive frame doesn’t completely overshadow you. His expression isn’t angry — more curious, almost amused, like he’s stumbled onto something unexpected.