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File: The Dark Star.png (210 KB, 1748x1214)
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You are the Dark Lord come again, the black hand that moves unseen in the shadows. The lidless eye that strips bare all secrets and commands fear with a single glance. The encroaching shadow, which shall surely grind all hope to dust beneath its weight. The master of doom and lord of all the earth. Or at least, you used to be.

You were cast down, locked away, and forgotten, but evil always finds a way. After aeons of imprisonment, your power has begun to stir once more, whispering tempting promises of power and conquest into the ears of those who would soon become your mortal followers upon this planet. Now, as you slowly regain your strength and influence, the time will come to reclaim your title as the lord of the earth and once again reign supreme over all. The world has already been touched by your might, and mortal realms will soon tremble at your return, bowing before your dark and formidable presence.

Previous threads: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=The%20Shadow%20Rises%20Anew

Above you, the greatest wedding in all the realm was happening, as young Prince Zahu-ir was to be wedded to the beautiful Lady Zahiryra, who, unbeknownst to most, was a member of the Snake Cult. Your own personal followers who had been seeping into the machinery of government for well over five decades by now. Both because it served your cause and as revenge against he who laid low your first attempt at building a puppet state. By perverting his own descendants, you would see his line ensnared and enslaved to your will, a fitting punishment for his insolence.

But you weren't at the wedding; no, you were several storeys below, in the bowels of the palace. Overseeing the 'interrogation' of the wretch Kamal, who tried to overthrow his father just a few short days before the wedding of his own brother!

Oh the scandal! You had made certain of it that all the realm had heard from it, and how this devious plot had been foiled by the heroic efforts of none other than the ever-loyal vizier and his guards. Who had arrested and incarcerated the rapscallion Kamal in the opening stages of his vile plot?
>>
File: Current political map.png (755 KB, 3370x2028)
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>>6451960

In reality, of course, things were a bit different; new servants, assassins trained by the Snake Cult, were let in via the postern gate. All the while, guards loyal to you were rotated out and replaced with those scant few who weren't under your sway; they were slaughtered to a man, framed as conspirators, and condemned by the Sultan, who was given poison to slowly kill him within the year.

And so, with that weak-willed coward soon under the thumb of his wife, the political opposition was defanged and purged. You once more had a tight grasp over the affairs of the realm, especially when the public front of the Snake Cult was about to become the largest of all the cults that were worshipped within the Mustafarids.

The naga plotted and schemed for you in the underground; your bombards were coming along well, indeed. Even the plagues, those demons you had bound to your will, were coming along well. To be used to poison wells and shorten sieges.
Speaking of demons, you had been studying the Hellhorn and found that it could summon demons bound to your will with but a blow, no rituals or sacrifices required. Small wonder that demon you killed for it wanted it; it could mean the great upset in the struggle between the demons and the crusaders. But unfortunately for them both, you had it now.

Still, the day drew nigh, the day of the final disjunction of the Azamoranids and, with them, Sinaljubal. Which would make you the master of the great desert. Still, it was only a stepping stone, for after them you would have to deal with those pesky crusader states if you wished to push west. Still, in your mind, you assessed that there were but three states truly capable of opposing your puppet state. To the west, the Azamoranids might swallow their pride and plead for aid from the crusaders. In the green lands to the northwest lay the Wlandean Empire, the apparent bulwark of Arnemirialism. What lay behind that, you didn't know. To the east lay the Shahdom of Nizar, with whom you had negotiated in the past, to keep the eastern border peaceful while you had brought war to the south.

The question of course, was what do conquer next?

>I shall finish what I started and finally rid myself of the Azamoranids.
>Bah, to go west is to invite coalition; no, I shall turn my gaze eastward.
>I must have more than one weapon in my arsenal; the Mustafarids shall do the desert, but I need other vassals too.
>>
>>6451961
>Bah, to go west is to invite coalition; no, I shall turn my gaze eastward.
Let us be subtle- let us lull the accursed Azamoranids into a false sense of security. If our sultan can sign mutual pacts of peace and prosperity, it will be no trouble at all to infiltrate and subvert them. This should be simplicity itself.
>>
>>6451961
Also, welcome back AdleQM! I hope all is well.
>>
>>6451961
>Bah, to go west is to invite coalition; no, I shall turn my gaze eastward.
Lizard elite
>>
>>6451961
>Bah, to go west is to invite coalition; no, I shall turn my gaze eastward.
>>
>>6451961
>Bah, to go west is to invite coalition; no, I shall turn my gaze eastward.
>>
>>6451961
>>I must have more than one weapon in my arsenal; the Mustafarids shall do the desert, but I need other vassals too.
Was just catching up last week! Thought I had missed all the fun!
>>
File: The Steppe.png (1.28 MB, 3233x3188)
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Until now, your gaze had been turned to the west and south. To your north lay the demon-infested mountain range, which could only be accessed from even further north. By conquering the south, you had secured a monopoly on the slave trade as well as the trade in hardwood and ivory. Tribute kings down south paid for their protection in slaves, gold, ivory and wood. All of which were of great value in fuelling the sultanate's expansion. But you knew better than to relentlessly push west.

The Mustafarids had become infamous to their remaining neighbours. And you knew that the West would most certainly send some aid if it deemed you a grave threat. The Azamoranids are docile, mercantile, and peaceful. The Mustafarids are aggressive, militaristic, and expansionist. In the south there was nought to conquer but endless jungles, filled with creatures and diseases capable of eating your armies from the inside out. To the west, the apparentness of your might was clear enough that they might make common cause were you to strike.
The north and south were geographically inaccessible; the west, politically so. Which, of course, left you with the east.

There was a reason you had not bothered with it; to your immediate east lay the Shahdom of Nizar. Where the great Shahenshah reigned from his peacock throne. They dominated trade in the bay of the Blughus. In consort with their satraps. The great middlemen in the game of caravanserei, whenever the steppes became unruly or dangerous, even doubled their income. Direct conquest might take years and would be expensive, though you might work your 'magic' from the inside. Nothing was decided yet, but you did decide to map out your new field of operations.

So, in dragon form, you flew at night, taking care to avoid detection. And memorising all the important towns and landmarks for future reference. The moonlight glistened on the rivers and lakes; the lights of towns and camps shone dimly far beneath your scaled majesty. This too would one day be brought under heel.

In the centre lay the steppe, where nomadic tribesmen raided and fought. A khan or khagan would occasionally arise, conquer and unite the tribes, only to fall back into chaos once again. Horseman without compare, master horse archer. Fearsome warriors who struck fear into the hearts of their enemies. They would raid as far west as the Khuzalin mountains and as far east as the Sublime Celestial Empire of Jade.

The Khuzalin Mountains were your reference for what separated the centre of the continent from the west. Hugging these mountains on the east side were two states. The kingdom of Sarmarska and the Tsardom of Druzahna, both of these formed the main settled peoples east of the Khuzalin. There was a third one there as well, the Khazad-Gathol, the realm of the kings under the mountains.
>>
Though they most certainly came from the same cultural group. Samarska was closer to the men of the west in both structure, architecture and society. While Druzhana was a hard land, where the tsar held autocratic power over the land, a grim necessity, in light of the always volatile eastern border.

Dwarves, that industrious but distrustful folk, had their greatest homes there. They had some land on the surface, but they had their greatest works under the ground. Where they warred with the orcs and occasional dragons from even further north.

To the southeast lay the land of the Rajas. Where great princes lorded over their subjects from the backs of elephants and fed those who displeased them to the tigers. In great palaces surrounded by greater gardens, they lived in opulence. Their armies often made use of war elephants in battle, mostly against each other.

Exploration concluded; you withdrew to your office to plan out your next steps. The east had fewer states among them, but great were these empires. Especially the great wall at the easternmost edge of the steppe. Beyond which lay an empire you knew would be an equal or surpassing of that Wlandean one.

>The steppe must be mine; I shall break Nizar at the head of hordes unnumbered
>Those settled men must be driven off over the mountains; for this, the nomads shall serve me well
>The dwarves are the real threat; they must be smoked out.
>The steppes must be tamed; nomads are terribly inefficient. I will make for Druzhana.
>These rajas would do well to have a unifying hand to guide them.
>>
>>6452260
Hmm...

Our relations with the Shahdom are positive and they pose no threat, for now. They are also directly contiguous to the Sultanate, so conquering them may make the westerners wary. This would improve our income by a wide margin.

The nomads are prolific raiders and infamously prone to infighting. They would be a challenge to conquer head-on, but that might not be necessary. This would give us access to seasoned horse archers and isolate the Shahdom for easier occupation.

The dwarves are a nightmare to siege and little better to subvert, but they are rich and powerful. Conquering them would alarm our neighbors but might be worth it for the sheer wealth they have on offer.

The Tsardom seems a bit isolated and would give us more of what we already have. That is, troops and gold. It's a comfortable choice that shouldn't be too extreme, both in gains and backlash. It also gives us passage to the demon-infested north, which could be useful.

The Rajahs are fractious and far away. Their wealth is substantial, their war elephants are strong, and they would open routes to go farther south and recruit more exotic troops. The biggest problem is the logistics, as we don't have control over the bay of Blughus and transporting armies to assist us would be rather difficult. It is also a far enough target that conquering them would, if anything, inspire some suspicion.

>Those settled men must be driven off over the mountains; for this, the nomads shall serve me well
I think the horse archers will serve us best. They are nearby, immediately useful at war, and will make the future conquest of the otherwise formidable Shahdom much easier. It could be worth vassalizing them for plausible deniability, but that's arguably less useful than integrating the horse archers into our forces. What do you guys think?
>>
>>6452260
>Those settled men must be driven off over the mountains; for this, the nomads shall serve me well.

The dwarves are the real threat. We must save them for last, when no hope remains.
>>
>>6452292
>Those settled men must be driven off over the mountains; for this, the nomads shall serve me well
>>
>>6452260
>The dwarves are the real threat
instead of smoking them out, though, I'd prefer to infiltrate them. We have the means to do it (we can shapeshift) and it would be good to see what sort of tech they have.
>>
>>6452260
>Those settled men must be driven off over the mountains; for this, the nomads shall serve me well.
>>
Great, empty, and vast, the steppe was home to formidable horsemen who would be the vechicle for your next campaign.

All things east of the Khuzalin Mountains would need to be brought under your dominion, up to everything west of the great bastion. The herds of horses and other livestock would be brought under your control; you would rouse the local warlords from their nomadic infighting and bring them conquering westward.

Samarska and Druzhana would need to be destroyed so that the centre of the world would cut off the east from the west and vice versa. Choking out the caravanserei would bring great wealth, and those pesky eastern bulwarks gave the west the potential to project power into the steppe if they so wished. And you would have none of that. Besides that, those two states formed the perfect buffer for those pesky midgets. You weren't certain about their intentions yet, but dwarves were known to stand by those whom they considered a friend.

No, you would drive those men westward, close off the east to the men of the west, and permanently close the gates of the east-facing mountainholds once and for all.

But for that to happen, you would need to engineer the coming of a great khan, one who could unite the disparate tribes into a greater horde, which could then be pushed westward. You could, of course, arm them with some of your more advanced tools if the matter came to it. Some gunpowder to blow open some more stubborn fortresses, though you would need to produce it here.

As such, you carefully prepared your departure; you stacked your vizier's office with loyal members of the Snake Cult, who would oversee the sultanate for you in your absence, keeping things normal and together, with no excesses, keeping the more unsavoury rituals behind closed doors, and generally lulling the neighbouring nations into a sense of peace. You left Erassyl in charge of your laboratory, making certain that your experiments continued at a pace and the stocks of gunpowder were replenished and expended.

You also decided to let Malidwa off the leash. The vampire was young and not advanced enough to turn others yet, but her simmering hatred of you was by now working to your advantage. The singular drop of blood she received from you not only formed a magical blood bond, but it also exaggerated her more…negative qualities, turning elegance into a deadly charm that would draw in unsuspecting victims. She had thankfully outgrown her more savage phase of life, and with the centuries, she would slowly fade from view as an object of hate. Her weakness to sunlight made her a poor choice for the steppe anyway. And sometimes, you just need to do things alone.

So you went off in the middle of the night, soaring through the night sky northward-bound, away from the desert and over the mountains, unto seas of yellowish-green grass and horselords.
>>
For a while, you travelled around, gaining intelligence and information about who the great players were on the steppe and which warlord was the most powerful. Sometimes, you listened from afar in the shadows; sometimes, you posed as a merchant or slave to gain even more insight.
And so you sat before the nearly forgotten cairn of a great khan of the past, somewhere in the northeast of the steppe, one who made both the celestial empire to the east and the kingdoms of the west tremble at his name. Tribute was paid in gold, livestock, and women to keep his hordes at bay. Only the stacked rocks and various flags fluttering in the wind remained as a reminder of his once mighty reign.

A stone's throw away, over a small stream sat a small nomadic camp, allegedly moving away within a few days to join up with another tribe in search of greener pastures. Winter was coming, and the grass here was becoming scarce, prompting the nomads to seek new lands for their herds. These goat herders would most certainly go before their khan for refuge. The only question of course, was how you should approach them.

>I shall go in my natural form, a fair elf of pale skin and golden hair.
>I shall be as the khans of old, powerfully built, tall and moustached.
>The guise of a wizard, or shaman, shall serve me well.
>Write-in
>>
>>6452564
>The guise of a wizard, or shaman, shall serve me well.
>>
>>6452564
>The guise of a wizard, or shaman, shall serve me well.
Nyeheheheh. No would-be warlord would spurn the services of a potent wizard, unless he himself be wise.
>>
>>6452564
>The guise of a wizard, or shaman, shall serve me well.
>>
File: Wizard disguise.png (280 KB, 861x1113)
280 KB PNG
You took a step back; you breathed in and out. You closed your eyes, and bright golden hair turned a dull grey; fair skin became old and withered, fingers long and gnarly. You retained your height, but your body turned frail and old, or at least that was the impression that you wanted to give.

A long beard now hung from your face, and your piercing gaze now lay buried in their caskets, obscured by fuzzy eyebrows. Out of wood, you conjured a staff to support you, an illusion as much as anything else, but one that would serve you well.


Transformation complete, you slowly made your way over to the nomadic camp, just as it was beginning to break up.

"It's best we left this place; it is getting colder, and from what I heard from Tuzar's camp, there used to be some disease that spread through here," one shepherd said to another.

"A pity that we should leave this place, especially so close to the cairn of our great Algadai Khan," the other replied, a tinge of sadness in his voice. Their conversation cut off when you came into view, slowly walking toward the centre of the camp.

"Hey you! Old man! Who are you and what brings you here?" They called out on horseback, their eyes narrowing suspiciously as they observed you. The shepherds tightened their grips on their reins and brought their bows closer to their bodies.

"That matters little; I must speak with your lord, for I bring him important tidings," you replied calmly, clamping onto your staff. Before moving on, unsatisfied, one of them moved on with their herd of sheep, while the other rode up beside you. You gave no answer as you walked into the centre of the tents. Where the elders of this tribe sat in council.

Your coming had been unexpected, and your appearance, while strange, seemed to intrigue them. Not for nothing had you chosen to drape yourself in sky-blue cloth. Colours of their sky god, the deity they worshipped above all others.

"Greetings, stranger. I know not how you came here without a horse, or who you are, but we bid you welcome to our camp," one of the elders spoke, his voice concerned and brooding. "I must ask of you that you don't ask for our hospitality, for our stocks are scarce, and the winter is upon us."

>Worry not, I eat very little, or nothing at all.
>I shall be off, but first I must know, where is the Khan? I must speak to him about a great many things.
>Fool! Do you not know a wizard when you see one? I am on a mission! Your lord the Khan, I must treat with him!
>>
>>6452930
>Worry not, I eat very little, or nothing at all.
First, we convince them of our veracity as a wizard, or perhaps the herald of a god. Also, that art is awesome. Brings to mind a grungier Saruman.
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>>6452930
>>Worry not, I eat very little, or nothing at all.
>>
>>6452930
>Fool! Do you not know a wizard when you see one? I am on a mission! Your lord the Khan, I must treat with him!
>>
>>6452930
>Fool! Do you not know a wizard when you see one? I am on a mission! Your lord the Khan, I must treat with him!
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

1: Worry not

2: Fool!
>>
"Worry not, I eat very little, or nothing at all." Which was very much true; you didn't need to eat, or drink, or sleep, or relieve yourself. Matter of fact, you didn't even need to wash yourself to look clean. You could, of course, still eat or drink for pleasure's sake, but it wouldn't give you nutrition, nor would it have an effect on you.
Still, the elders in the camp seemed a bit confused at your statement, especially as you were in the guise of a frail old man, leaning on a stick for support.

"Are you one of those fasteners?" You didn't know what that was, but you did get an idea from the name. You played along and nodded your head. The elders exchanged knowing glances and nodded, confirming for themselves their suspicions.

"We are going to the Khan; he has called together the ulus for a meeting. You wouldn't happen to have a horse, do you?"

"I don't." You stated. Your voice was now deep and commanding, fit for a wizard, instead of the velvety, crisp tone you used at the sultan's court. The elders looked at each other before one of them spoke up, "Well, we do have one horse, but it is a piece of work; it killed its last rider and threw half a dozen others."

"I will make do." You grumbled, following a youth who would guide you to this steed. Which would bend, or be broken.

You have ridden, but you prefferred flight, which was faster, but your command over the creatures of this world certainly would help.

And lo, a pale horse, though it wasn't a pure white, its coat was spotty and its eyes were wild. It snorted and pawed at the ground, clearly eager to be rid of you. It trotted over and snorted even louder, its inscrutable eyes boring into yours.

You used your powers to unravel and peer into this horse's mind; dark was its temper and violent its reaction. Memories told of fingers bitten, ribs shattered, and more than a few dead bodies in its wake. A dark mind for a blackhearted steed, you smirked; if you would mount any horse, it would be this one.

And so you let down your wardings, allowing your natural aura of malevolence to reach the stallion. Normally, animals would turn and run; dogs would bark and cats would hiss, but not all animals were so strong in their morals. No, this one would serve you well.
As they were packing up, they saw with surprise how you sat atop the animal without a saddle or bridle, guiding it with only your thoughts. The horse moved with precise steps and pacing. Knowing exatcly how to keep you comfortable and secure as you rode.

"You tamed him, but how? Half the camp tried." One of the warriors said

"I am not of your tribe, nor am I as frail as I appear." You grumpily replied, getting a bit into the wizard persona.
>>
It was a month of riding, nonstop, occasionally stopping before continuing on. You kept clear of becoming too familiar with them, but you looked, listened, and learnt. About their culture, their customs, their taboos and virtues and how best to use it. It would take another month of riding southward before you reached the camp of the Khan, secured from the blizzards now raging by a ridge of mountains.

In the middle stood the great yurt of the Khan, upon wheels as was custom. The camp was bustling with activity, the smoke from the various yurts drifting upwards and then dissolving into the cold winter air. The Khan's guards eyed you warily as you approached, an obvious stranger.

"Halt, stranger; our great Khan isn't receiving visitors when he's conferring with his noyans."

>Say nothing; walk in without saying a word.
>Then he would do well to heed what I have to say.
>Step aside, I come from far over difficult country to bring the will of the sky lord.
>>
>>6453324
An evil horse? Interesting. Maybe it would be worth experimenting with later on, but that is neither here nor there.

>>6453325
>Then he would do well to heed what I have to say.
We are acting as a wizard. The more cryptic we are, the more credence they'll give us.
>>
>>6453325
>>Then he would do well to heed what I have to say.
>>
>>6453325
>Then he would do well to heed what I have to say.
>>
>>6453325
>Then he would do well to heed what I have to say.
>>
"Then he would do well to heed what I have to say." You cryptically said, tilting your head forward to obscure your eyes. The two guards looked at each other in confusion.

"What are you babbling about, old man? Get out of here before we make you." One of them reached for his weapon, but just then someone walked out of the yurt, and the guards immediately straightened up, standing at attention. Out walked a procession of moustached men with their hair braided up in a variety of styles, though their fur hats all matched.

"Who's that?" One of them pointed at you, still feigning frailty.

"Some crazy old man who rode into camp with one of the camps; no idea why. I was about to throw him out." The leader of the grin showed a wolfish grin, revealing a set of yellow teeth.

"Is he now? Well, the khan is in need of entertainment. Someone else than the slave girls of the pleasure dome for the evening, hahahahah. He stepped over and grabbed you by the arm, dragging you into the tent where a fire crackled in the centre, casting flickering shadows on the walls. Upon a throne shaped to look like a raptor sat a figure draped in silks and furs, brows furrowed deep in thought.

Looking upward, you took a look at his face, with sharp features cut up by a scar or two and a moustache that extended down to his chin and into his beard, which was rather short. You estimated he was about mid-thirties. In his hands he held a bowl of steaming broth, eating out the last piece of meat with a satisfied expression.

"What in all of the green steppe have you brought this time around Bugachai? Some old man who looks like he hasn't been washed in over a year? He doesn't look like he's from here." He chuckled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before gesturing for you to come forward.

"Now then, old man? Do you have any talents? Anything to amuse me with? I could easily go to my pleasure dome, but I tire of my concubines, so go ahead. If you don't, ill have you trampled to death by my riders."

A silence fell as you narrowed your eyes and prepared for combat. But the khan then erupted into laughter. "Hahahaha, nah, just kidding! If anything, I'll make you follow us in the freezing cold to see if you survive."

You didn't laugh in response; you thought the joke crude, though the cruelty of the threat amused you.

>Use the fire in the middle to form various shapes. That will surely impress him.
>Laugh in return "Oh, but little do you realise that of the two I am the graver danger."
>Answer his 'joke' with another 'joke' by telekinetically strangling him.
>Write-in
>>
>>6453914
>Use the fire in the middle to form various shapes. That will surely impress him.
smoke rings
>>
>>6453914
>Use the fire in the middle to form various shapes. That will surely impress him.
Direct brute-force magic.
>>
>>6453914
>Use the fire in the middle to form various shapes. That will surely impress him.
>>
>>6453914
>>Answer his 'joke' with another 'joke' by telekinetically strangling him.
>>
QM is everything alright?
>>
>>6454977
Tomorrow, there was some family business.
>>
The khan wished to be entertained? Well, that was something you could oblige with, but for a moment you felt a pang of anger; you didn't serve, nor were you some court jester here to dance and sing for the entertainment of that moustached oaf. But you knew the long game; slowly you would sink your hooks into him as he would begin to see you as more of an advisor, especially once you revealed your awesome wizard powers before his court.

But for now, you bowed and declared to him. "If that be your will, lord, I shall oblige you."

You turned away from him and walked to the centre of his yurt; there, in the centre, stood the central fire which would serve as the stage for your performance for this evening. It would shock and awe these primitive horse lords into amazement and dread.

You walked around the fire, so you faced the Khan directly on his throne. You reached deep into the fire, its flames dancing around your fingertips as you practised your pyromancy. Great flashes leaped forth from the fire, blowing out all other light, illuminating the dark yurt and casting eerie shadows on the walls.

"Behold then! The power of fire and magic! Behold its beauty and greatness, for within its magnificence you shall find both providence and destruction!" you proclaimed, your voice echoing through the silence of the yurt. The Khan's eyes widened in astonishment.

The fire turned from its formlessness into a horsehead, neighing loudly and proudly before becoming a horse in full, walking slowly at first but pacing into a trot, canter and, finally, a gallop as if it were alive. Three circles it made around the tent before it leaped back into the fire.

And come out as a great raptor, screeching and awing all. From behind the fire you could see their bewilderment upon their faces, coloured yellow by the flames. But then you decided to take it one step further.

You conjured up a field, upon which thousands of tiny horses and their riders rode westward, battling, sacking and razing villages in their wake. Their Great Khan, who you made certain held an ancestral resemblance to the Khan.

"See your ancestors, look on how they, in the days look gone by, conquered and subjegated, masters of the steppes, masters of the world! Do you not wish succeed them, to reclaim that which is rightfully yours?!"

Cries of approval echoed through the crowd as they watched. Dazzled by the dancing firelight and the thundering hooves of the tiny horses, the spectators were mesmerised by this somewhat rose-tinted view of their heroic past, but you knew how to play to their ambition, their desires, and their yearning for greatness. As the hour grew late, most would withdraw, and only a select few would remain. But you had seeded it within them, the idea of empire; if they behaved, they would form a formidable force to push out the west, but small steppes. First, you must help the Khan master the steppe before he can master the world.
>>
>>6455490
And afterwards, you sat down beside him on the floor, with cushion at least, but he still towered over you on his throne.

"So you're one of those sorcerers that I've heard about over the years. The shamans say that folk like you are wanderers, and that we should not trust you, for you silence dissent with your spells and twist the minds of men to your will," the Khan said with a wary eye. "But you sought us out in the middle of the winter. And when a wizard comes in times of need, it is to advise, so tell me, stranger, what would you with us?"

>I am here to bring you back to greatness, nothing more
>You would do well to heed me, for I have much wisdom I wish to share
>You kind seemed like they needed aid, and I am willing to provide
>>
>>6455491
>I am here to bring you back to greatness, nothing more
>>
>>6455491
>I am here to bring you back to greatness, nothing more
>>
>>6455491
>I am here to bring you back to greatness, nothing more
>>
"I am here to bring you back to greatness, nothing more." You leaned over a bit, feigning a stoop in your back, to make him think you were weak of body but a master of magic.

The khan groaned and scratched his chin. "Greatness, you say, but for us to be great, we must first survive the winter we spend here because it guards us from the harsh winds."

"Then we shall wait out the winter, and as the thaw comes, your horses shall ride and trample, the lesser khagans and khans shall submit or be swept aside. It shall not come quickly, nor easily, great lord. But if you would accept and heed my counsel, results shall come."

The Khan pondered your words before coming to an answer. "Very well then, sorcerer, you may offer your counsel. When the time comes and we can move for greener pastures, you may reveal your plans."

"I thank your lordship for his time and shall work my utmost to prove worthy of your trust."

You didn't await the coming of the thaw to begin increasing your influence; first, you would buy your way into their hearts and minds by showing them more advanced ways of storing and conserving meat and other perishable goods. As well as better methods of distributing food to the common nomads, so there were fewer deaths by attrition.

Ordinarily you wouldn't care about that; the weak would weed themselves out, as nature intended, to keep a herd strong. You must cull it. But you weren't master of this horde yet; no, for now you kept in the background, whispering advice to the Khan which would slowly build up his strength, like coupling certain horses together for stronger breeds and various pieces of advice regarding animal husbandry. Some display of your magic came when you made the sheep bigger, meatier, and woolier.

That would mean a surplus, which would mean that when they came across whatever city, village, or caravan they usually trade with, they could earn more, which would mean they could afford more and better weapons, raise more warriors, and grow in strength. Wars are won by wealth, you knew that like no other.

But as the horses and the cart rode on, stopping only to graze or cut down wood to repair or build more wagons or carve more bows and arrows, you began looking high and low for a stratum of their horde to bring under your sway. The Khan might be the lord of the horde and you his loyal servant, but you knew you needed allies. His other advisers might be awed by you now, but you know they will soon vie with you for his ear.

>The shamans, for they are the religious and spiritual leaders of this horde, must be ensnared.
>This is a land for the strong, and only the strong might rule; the warriors must be brought under mine sway.
>The flow and control of money, even amongst these savages, is my utmost priority.
>>
>>6456211
>This is a land for the strong, and only the strong might rule; the warriors must be brought under mine sway.
>>
>>6456211
>This is a land for the strong, and only the strong might rule; the warriors must be brought under mine sway.
>>
>>6456211
>This is a land for the strong, and only the strong might rule; the warriors must be brought under mine sway.
>>
Upon such a bleak and empty land, with only rolling, endless fields of grass, only the hardiest and strongest of men and women would thrive. Born in the saddle they all were, riding tirelessly across the vast expanse, there and back again, over and over again. Hunting, riding, hunting, riding – a never-ending cycle of survival.

When war came, they would be the ones at the fore. Their men were formidable warriors. You had heard that among some steppe tribes the women were allowed to fight as well, but this particular one didn't allow that, but all the better; hardy women made hardy children.

The bow was their primary weapon, with a sabre or lance as backup. Some of the more elite units were more heavily armoured, and where used to chase enemy horse archers. But the horse archers were the primary troops, skilled in hit-and-run tactics that would draw out and divide the enemy, allowing them to defeat forces in detail.

Shoot, wheel about, and goad them into pursuing you; if they were on foot, you could repeat the trick again and again, slowly whittling them down as their numbers and energy dwindled. If they were on horseback, the heavier, armoured units would come in to finish them off in close combat.

Fortifications could be dealt with as well; they already had some black powder from the celestial empire in the east, and you could always make more, master alchemist that you were. They also threw the rotting corpses of cattle and men over the walls; they also had a penchant for terror tactics, the summary execution of captured peasants before the eyes of the defenders, and leaving heads on stakes when they withdrew.

Such lovely people! They almost reminded you of orcs, though they were more refined and much, much more reliable. Ruthlessness and brutality, backed up by a genuine sense of strategy and organisation. Yes, they would do their job well.

But first, you must lend them a hand, slowly ensnare them and bring them under your sway. Easier said than done. You could overwhelm their minds, but that had a tendency to leave victims with their faculties impaired, remaining nothing more than literal meat shields.

It would have to be subtle; they had no reason to distrust you, even if they did, for you had done no wrong to them. They would accept gifts and boons, for when a wizard gave you something, would you turn it down?

>Lead them to a large cairn, where you will bind the spirits of the dead into their weapons and to you.
>Offer a select few high-quality arms and armour; in exchange, they would form a bodyguard for yourself.
>Use their tradition of bloodbonding by offering your own blood; all your bloodbrothers would slowly be infected with but a drop and fall one by one.
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>>6457317
>Use their tradition of bloodbonding by offering your own blood; all your bloodbrothers would slowly be infected with but a drop and fall one by one.
>>
>>6457317
>Use their tradition of bloodbonding by offering your own blood
>>
>>6457317
>Use their tradition of bloodbonding by offering your own blood; all your bloodbrothers would slowly be infected with but a drop and fall one by one.
>>
>>6457317
>>Use their tradition of bloodbonding by offering your own blood; all your bloodbrothers would slowly be infected with but a drop and fall one by one.
>>
File: The Steppe-2.png (1.34 MB, 3233x3188)
1.34 MB PNG
There is an old tradition among the warriors of the steppe; by blood-bonding with their comrades, they believe they can work together as one entity on the battlefield. It's something done to create a bond deeper than spoken friendship, so many true friends take one on.Indeed, it is also used to create bonds of friendship between the tribes, fostering unity and loyalty; after all, blood's thicker than water.

And let your blood be…special; in many ways, it dragged Malidwa into death and out again into undeath. It was a vile thing, sour to the taste with a bitterly sweet aftertaste. You wouldn't turn them into vampires; that would be to the detriment of them fighting in the day, nor would you take over their minds completely; that would leave you managing a bunch of flesh puppets in detail. And you weren't going to make them all eat, sleep, and drink; that would be too much micromanagement, even for you. Instead, it would create an impulse in their minds, a natural inclination to agree with you whenever an argument was to be had.

In exchange, they would become stronger, durable, and quicker, being able to take wounds which would kill most men, to a limit of course; there's not much that can recover from decapitation.

It is through them that you would build up your own power base in the horde, independent of the Khan, and make certain that, if the time came, you would have enough fingers in the pie to dictate the enthronement of the next Khan.

Finding willing candidates was a bit tedious; most common warriors distrusted you, being both an outsider and a wizard from far off. But you managed to find a few, intrigued by your sorcerous powers and mysterious air, which you cultivated with utmost care. These select few would become your first proper followers within the horde, but they would form more bloodbonds and so spread the 'gift' further and further.

But that's not to say that that was all you kept busy with, you were given your own yurt, though it remained mostly empty, and a concubine, though you found her presence more of a nuisance than anything else. So instead you made her fetch you ingredients from the fields and traders whenever they passed by.

You spend your days studying, using your gifts to further ingratiate yourself, extending your network of bloodbonds, and vying for influence at the council of the Khan. With the thaw and spring coming, it was time for the horde to move to greener pastures.

Which you pondered as you peered over a map; indeed, you had kept out of the votes for now so you could position yourself as the tiebreaker at the opportune moment when the Khan's council faced a deadlock.

Indeed, they could go directly west, right next to the Tsardom, which would leave you in direct contact with at least one of your targets and allow you to do exploratory raids and scouting before retreating and coming back, or perhaps launching a direct invasion.
>>
>>6458962
You could also go southward, between the great lake and a great forested vale known only as the Ovurnand. Most who go in there never return, and it is said that in the centre lies a dormant volcano, kept silent by ancient magic.

Thirdly, you could go south to crush the lesser tribes and hordes to assimilate them into the Khan's great horde and build up his, and so your, strength for the campaigns out west. It would take longer to properly get around to going westward. But the horde would be all the stronger for it.

>We must go westward. To get the measure of these men and see if they are in league with the Dwarves
>South it is; the warmer climate suits me well.
>I don't believe we can destroy the Tsardom, not yet; we must go south.
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>>6458963
>South it is; the warmer climate suits me well.
>>
>>6458962
>South it is; the warmer climate suits me well.
>>
>>6458963
>South it is; the warmer climate suits me well.



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