When the banners of war cast Bohemia into chaos, whispers spread of treasures hidden by noble houses unwilling to see them plundered. Among them was the famed dagger of Brunswick, said to have ended more lives in silence than in battle cries.
Guided by the Lion’s Crest, Henry was led to Scribe Gaibl in Troskowitz. From the old man’s lips came a riddle: seek the “Chapel in the Rocks,” north of Trosky Castle, where stone and forest guard forgotten secrets. After a long search, Henry stood before a weathered cross carved into the cliffside. Beneath it, the earth hid a chest bound in iron.
With spade in hand, he unearthed the relic. Within lay Brunswick’s Bollock Dagger — slender, balanced, and wickedly precise. Unlike the greatswords of the field, this blade was forged for close work: slipping between plates, finding the flesh where armor failed. Once a knight’s sidearm, it had become the favored tool of assassins and spies, its name carried in hushed tones through taverns and courts alike.
Thus did Henry claim the dagger, not through conquest, but through wit, patience, and the unraveling of secrets — a weapon born for shadows, yet worthy of a knight.