NonstopGarbage6

(novel library)

Your people roam the Great Steppe, chased and challenged by the fearsome Tribe of the Black Wolf. Their leader, the shaman Zhan-Ukhel, calls forth savage magic from Chernobog, the god who rules their tribe. Your tribe must have a leader who can call down protection from the gods. That leader is you, and this is your saga.

Rule your tribe as an iron-fisted chieftain or as a benevolent guardian. Will your allies support you on the field of battle? Will the gods come when you need them most? Do you even need the gods to smite your enemies, or will you seize divine power for yourself?

Horses in the Falcon

"Lower your spear, you imbecile," you say, "at least until you have a real enemy to point it at."


The sentry does indeed lower his spear, looking suitably abashed. You don't deign to give him another glance as you ride past him into the settlement.


The Tribe of the Red Bear pitched their tents here months ago, and the time has almost come to move on once more. As you ride slowly down the worn track that leads to the clear central area of the encampment, you glance about you at the clusters of yurts that lie to either side. While some of your tribespeople raise a hand in greeting as you pass, others look at you hopefully, even warily, their wishes for the return of their loved ones safely from the battle unvoiced but plain to see all the same.


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