Rich land owner, Grimwald, once leisurely spending his time hunting and practicing with a sword, with nary a worry in the world, all of a sudden became riches to rags after a painful familial betrayal.
With no one there to protect him from a cruel technicality, and only able to take what he can carry from his land; he sets out with little more than clothes on his back, provisions and bitterness. His life turned into a monotony of dealing with low-lives, greedy merchants and shady characters.
Like in a mad unending loop, he resentfully struggles to find a way to make enough coin for day-by-day life.
After taking out his pent-up anger on a couple belligerent drunks, a mysterious man sat next to him.
"Wouldn't you rather do something that matters? With a band of loyal brothers?" He asked.
"Oh yeah? Like what? You've got something better to do?" With a gulp from his tankard, Grimwald dismissed the man.
"Things you can't ever tell anyone." The man, unbothered by his attitude, continued.
A brief exchange occurred, after all. Grimwald questioned, and the man answered.
"The Empire's good people can sleep, because our enemies are afraid to."
"Afraid of what?" Grimwald asked, his interest now captured.

"Do you want to find out?"