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

"It was a massacre," he says. "The Black Wolves' horde seemed to fill the horizon, and they fought as if possessed by destructive and terrible spirits. Then there was the sorcerer himself. He killed those who came near him with no more than a glance!" He looks away, for a moment, as if ashamed. "What can mere flesh and blood do against such magic? We fought bravely—all the tribes did—but we were doomed from the beginning. Your father was the bravest of us all. He led a charge against Zhan-Ukhel himself, but I did not see what became of him. When all seemed lost, I fled. I had to get the news to you before the Tribe of the Black Wolf arrived here themselves. They are likely already on the move."


Javor is consumed by a fit of coughing, and blood bubbles up from his mouth. You begin to stand up, but his hand grips your wrist tightly and his eyes turn to you. "It's hopeless, Basileios. If you only saw what I saw. Zhan-Ukhel truly is a conqueror. The Great Steppe will be his, and our tribe along with it. He will come for us soon. Even now, I feel it—our doom, carried on the wind." His grip relaxes then, and his eyes close, his hand dropping from your wrist and falling to the ground.


You look up to see that many tribespeople have gathered around, and now they stand looking despondently at the body of Javor, considering the grave news he has just given you.


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