A heavy mist hung over the fjord as Eirik, Liv and Torvald stood on the deck of the longboat, its dragon's head gliding through the water. Despite the September chill, all three were ablaze with impatience. It was today that their first expedition as full-fledged members of the Thunder Wolves clan was to take place. They had already rowed for a long time, heading towards an island that was spoken of in whispers in the village. It was called the Isle of Mist - not because it was often hidden in the vapour, but because many warriors had disappeared on it, and those who returned spoke of strange voices and footprints larger than a bear's. Torvald, the largest of them and the bravest, squeezed his paddle. "These are just tales to keep the children from wandering about at night," he hissed, but a note of uncertainty sounded in his voice. Liv, always calm and focused, looked through the fog with anticipation. She had her father's old horn with her, inherited from the first loot voyage. Eirik, on the other hand, did not take his eyes off the shore, where dark rocks rose directly from the sea as if they were made of black ice. When the boat touched the shoal, they pulled it quietly onto the beach. There was silence all around, broken only by the cawing of crows nesting on a lone pine tree. "A circle of crows," whispered Eirik. "Father said they always gather where something important is happening." They moved deeper into the island. The fog was thicker here than anywhere else. The stones underfoot seemed to move, shadows danced between the trees. Suddenly Liv stopped and pointed a finger. In front of them, among the mossy boulders, rose an ancient runic stone. Its surface was covered with engraved symbols that not even the oldest storytellers knew. Torvald leaned over, trying to decipher them, and then a dragging sound came from the mist - as if someone was blowing a horn ten times larger than the one Liv was holding. All three of them froze. Crows rose from the tree with a deafening squawk and circled above their heads. A huge silhouette emerged from the mist, just a few steps away. It was not a human figure, but something that had the shape of a warrior... and at the same time was not one at all. Eirik, Liv and Torvald stood still before they had time to decide whether to run away or face what they had just seen....