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

"So the gods, magic, the spirits…is any of it real?" you ask


"Of course," says Svarog, as he lifts the sword from the furnace and begins to hammer it upon the anvil, small splinters of blackening metal flying off it to land on the ground nearby. "It exists because people believe it exists, but they believe it exists because they have seen its effects—you talking to me right now, for example. Times are changing, and you, Basileios, may have a part to play in what the future holds for the Tribe of the Red Bear, for the Great Steppe, and for the gods and traditions of your people."


He thrusts the sword back into the fire and gestures for you to come forward. "Come, Basileios. Look into the flames…."


You step closer to the forge and feel the heat upon your face. It's comforting to step away from the cool air. You look for a while at the dancing flames, watching small filaments of coke and soot lifting up into the air. Eventually you pull your eyes away and find that you've moved.


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