Greyfyrd

The Greyfyrd are the most far-flung of the great lodges, a grim and pragmatic brotherhood out of metal-veined Chamon whose oaths are scattered across every Mortal Realm at once. Where other lodges muster as a single fyrd from a single magmahold, the Greyfyrd hire out their heroes piecemeal (a Runeson here, a knot of Hearthguard there) so that at any moment the lodge is fighting a hundred wars it will never see the end of.

This is cold economics as much as pride. A Greyfyrd axe commands a king's ransom because the lodge has calculated, to the ingot, precisely what its warriors are worth, and it does not discount devotion. Every contract fulfilled is another shard of ur-gold reclaimed toward the day their shattered god is made whole, and a Greyfyrd champion counts his campaigns the way a miser counts coin, never quite satisfied.

The lodge's scattered veterans are, in consequence, the most worldly of Fyreslayers, having fought beside and against nearly every people in the realms. A Greyfyrd hero arrives already knowing his employer's enemies, his weaknesses, and the precise moment the contract ends, for the Greyfyrd keep faith absolutely until the last clause is met, and not one heartbeat longer than the gold has bought.