They are the ones who pay in iron and not in silver. Those who take what they want. Even things that we can’t hold on to. And they also pay for mistakes with iron. The steel of swords and your own blood, if the enemy is stronger. They are used to having death breathing down their necks. And that friends are always there. While they are alive. Because they are hird. The fighting squad of those who have won the right to walk along the narrow bridge between life and death, between Midgard and Valhalla. Those who pay in iron not because they have no silver, but because they are Vikings.