Heinrik, a Bhal born in Guthram, was raised in his family's village inn. As the middle child among four siblings, Heinrik often felt the brunt of his father's harsh demeanor, a relationship burdened by unexplained strain. The tension in the family escalated when Heinrik's two-year-old sisters were mysteriously kidnapped, leaving a deep impact on everyone.

 
During the year his sisters were missing, further tragedy struck when Heinrik's father was fatally wounded in an altercation outside the tavern. This event plunged the family into deeper turmoil. However, the sisters returned mysteriously altered a year after their disappearance, amidst suspicions of Faerie involvement. Despite the whispers and doubts from the community, their mother chose to keep them after they passed the trial of iron, though this did little to quell the lingering suspicions.

 
Heinrik's relationship with his siblings is complex; before his father's passing he felt overshadowed by his elder brother Jakob and passed over for the twins, who were more favored by their father. Despite the favoritism, Jakob often supported Heinrik, providing some solace within the familial strife. Since the passing of Jaryk, there is a pall of unresolved guilt and shame around that dark period of their lives for which, rightly or wrongly, Heinrik cannot help but feel some blame.

 
Heinrik’s life took a new turn when he was apprenticed to the village blacksmith, a plan laid by his mother in the hope that Jakob, his older brother, would soon take over the family inn. Though Jakob’s conscription into The Borderguard cast doubt on those plans, Heinrik remained at the forge, steady in his duties. Word is, Jakob is soon to return—perhaps before the leaves fall.

 
In the spring of 878, Heinrik and a handful of Guthram’s children vanished into the Deep Mire. What began as a task for the druid’s rites ended in blood and fire. Goblins, Ogres, and the sadistic Goatman conspired to steal them away. Against all odds, Heinrik and his companions not only escaped but struck deeper into the swamp to save those taken. They came back changed—none more so than Heinrik.

 
He was greivously wounded when they carried him home. The next day the sickness took him, left him fevered, raving, between life and death. The fire wouldn’t stay cold in his room. The herbs soured in the bowl. Some say the storm that hit that night cracked the skies right above the Wolny home. But by some grace—perhaps Astra Gavrilov’s efforts, perhaps something else—he lived.

And yet...
 
Heinrik walks the village now with quiet steps and steady hands. The forge no longer bites him. Iron bends beneath his hammer in ways it shouldn't for a boy his age. Those who feared him a Changeling have mostly put the talk to rest—he works iron every day, after all. Changelings shy from cold-forged steel.

 
Still, there are whispers. That his strength is not his own. That fire listens when he speaks. That something he found in the accursed swamp wrought some change upon him.

 
Heinrik’s mother says little on the matter. She offers no protests, but her glances linger longer now when he thinks she isn’t looking. Her voice catches, sometimes, on his name.

 
Folk in Guthram know magic leaves a mark, whether it comes from fae blessing, curse, or worse. They remember the twins. They remember the swamp.

 
And now they watch to see what the boy from the forge is becoming.