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

As the guard slides your bowl beneath the bars of your cell, you jump forward. Catching him by surprise, you grab his arm and wrench it backward, forcing him against the bars. Immediately, you loop an arm around his throat and squeeze. The guard thrashes about, trying to strike you or throw you off, but you keep holding on, and soon his struggles cease and he slumps to the floor.


You slip the key ring from where it's attached to his uniform, and show the keys to Drazha. "You got them!" exclaims Drazha, her eyes lighting up with the possibility of escape. "Quickly now, the other guards will discover one of their fellows is missing soon enough. They may have even heard the struggle."


"Don't worry, I'll get us out of here," you say, trying a number of keys on the stiff lock of your cell door before eventually finding the right one.


As the door to your cell swings open, you pause for a moment, listening carefully. You can just make out raised voices and footfalls from outside the passage. You might have time to open a single cell door.


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