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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!

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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.

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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.

>>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.

>>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.

>>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.

>>6458963
>South it is; the warmer climate suits me well.
>I don't believe we can destroy the Tsardom, not yet; we must go south.
QM, what is the difference between these options?

>>6459374
If you south you engage in bit more steppe warfare to subjugate more tribes into the horde.

Going southwest gives you get the opportunity to explore the Ovurnand, and raid both Sarmaska and Minatyr

>>6459376
I pick the subjugation one, still not clear which one is which for me

>>6459376
they're both "south", neither is "southwest"

you could just read the 3 lines above the options
and then come to the conclusion that the 3 options correspond in order to the lines above
thats what i did

Ah, I see what the problem was, I wrote south, instead of southwest for the second option. If you will excuse, I going to stub my toe against a door.

>>6458963
>>South it is; the warmer climate suits me well.
I look forward to seeing what's in the ovurnand

File: Steppe Battle.png (520 KB, 1211x1006)

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Southwest then, to the great lake which broke up the steppe somewhat, being the main recipient of those rivers unable to reach the sea. You wouldn't go to the utmost west, for then the lake and the great forested dale known as the Ovurnand would act as a pincer with only the wider steppe as a way out.

The Ovurnand is obviously no place to lead a nomadic horde; the underbrush wouldn't make it the sort of terrain conducive to easy travel for such a group. The mountains would likewise act as a barrier to movement, forcing the Khan to go west for raiding if he wished for bounty from the fertile lands beyond.

"Going south? Preposterous! The harsh climate is what makes us strong! Without it, we will all become milksops. No, the cold breeds strong warriors!" exclaimed a more traditionalist member of the Kurultai. He was old, and while his skin showed he was once a respected and great warrior, his influence was on the wane. Your time with the younger warriors of the war has awoken something more mundane than high ideals about strong breeding and how harsh times build character.

They, the Khan included, wanted what all men wanted: wealth, women, and land. Vassals to extract tribute from, enemies to be trampled under the hooves of one's horse, to make the kings of the west prostate themselves before Khan, before he knocks their crowns off their heads with his feet, as per custom. You therefore stepped in; you were wise men, and your counsel would be most valued.

"Perhaps so, honoured elder, but I have gazed into the heavens and consulted the great tapestry of the sky-lord; the stars are clear. We must set upon this course and relentlessly push toward it until he bids us to stop." You proclaimed, making small illusions of stars dance around your fingertips to drive the point home. The rest of the Kurultai quietly hovered to your position, and the Khan likewise decided that yours was the most prudent path to follow.

There was, of course, one minor hurdle before your lord could take over the southwestern steppe, and that was the fact that there already were nomads established in that region. Most of them were small fry, the occasional minor tribe or herders who could easily be cowed into surrendering tribute to the Khan. But there was one larger tribe, the Thulgan; it was, of course, smaller than the horde you were manipulating into coming here. But they would offer battle, and your whims deemed it time for bloodshed.

The grasslands would flow red, the corpses of horses and men alike would be reaped, the carrions would feast richly, and you would grow in power. You would also bring this horde closer to your other puppet state in the sultanate, which you telepathically made sure didn't fall into decay or infighting while you were away.

But of course, aside from a few skirmishes and rearguard actions, the Thulgan made no attempt to halt your advance, at least, not until you finally caught up with them.

And it became clear they weren't here to flee but to converge, a large host, almost enough to match the one the Khan had brought to bear. They stood upon a ridge, their horse archers prepared to rain down arrows upon your forces. In between their ridge and the ridge your army was on lay a swallow dale to get in range. Obviously, the direct route would be dangerous, but perhaps that might make it unexpected enough to catch the Thulgan off guard.

>Split the host and harass them before drawing them apart
>Keep the army united and circle around them
>Charge directly into their ranks

>>6460162
>Charge directly into their ranks

>>6460162
>Split the host and harass them before drawing them apart

>>6460162
>Charge directly into their ranks

>>6460162
>>Split the host and harass them before drawing them apart

Rolled 2 (1d2)

1: Split and harass

2: Charge

File: Steppe Battle 2.png (513 KB, 1211x1006)

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You rode up beside your Khan, surveying the battlefield before you. The enemy wouldn't budge now; no, they would stand here and fight. These Thulgan were making their first and final stand here. All or nothing, for them, it would be a fight to the death. It was either this, a chance to withstand the encroachment, or flee west, and be crushed against the castle walls of the lords who ruled over those lands.

No, they wouldn't flee, which explained why they still had that camp set up; the woman and children would stand alongside the warriors, ready to defend their pastures and way of life. The Khan peered over the battlefield, though not an arrow had been loosed yet.

"And what do you think of it, sorcerer? A quick charge to send them reeling and routing before they even realise what's happening?" he asked, turning to you, stroking his moustache.

"A bold plan, lord, but you need to speed through that dale before climbing a hill. I am not saying it is doomed, but you should consider the risks in such a hasty manoeuvre," you responded, eyeing the terrain thoughtfully.

Boisterous laughing came in response, "So you fancy yourself a strategist as well as a wizard, do you now? Hahahaha, come, leave the war to me, the warlord. I know what to do, and I have fought worse odds." And he rode to the front, seething his sabre and fetching a heavy lance. As heavy, metal-clad riders came to the front.
"Forth warriors, to glory or doom!" Cheering and warchants filled the air; the hooves began to thunder against the ground. Down they went, into the dale, arrows flinging. For the enemy part, they tried to keep some distance between them and the approaching cavalry. But wether or not the vigour of the Khan's horses would win out over the speed of the enemies' steeds was yet to be seen.

>Base DC of 60
>Charging over disadvantageous terrain -20DC
>DC40

To see the effect of the charge, roll a 1d100 (DC40). The lower, the better. The more successes you roll, the more effect the charge will have.

Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>6461438
If this fool khan gets himself killed, that too may be to our advantage.

Rolled 20 (1d100)

>>6461438

Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>6461438

>>6461480
>>6461482
Who needs strategy when you've got steeds like these?

File: Steppe Battle 3.png (515 KB, 1211x1006)

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You hung out back; it would be unseemly to reveal your true prowess, all thought you a sorcerer and wizard, not a warrior, and while you did shoot the occasional fireball and other magic missiles, you weren't going to get up close and stuck in. That would reveal your true potential too early. If your hand was forced.

You weren't going to use the dragon form here; that the sultan had a giant black-scaled dragon in his employ was one thing, but that the Khan somehow had one as well would raise eyebrows in courts elsewhere.
To their credit, they slowly descended into the dale, taking the losses incurred from enemy arrow fire with grim determination. As they began to climb, they picked up the speed, quickly closing the distance even as their horse archers provided counterfire.

Then it came, whether through grit, better equipment or the superior vigour of the Khan's horse. You would find out soon, but the two great hordes soon slammed into each other, the cries of horses nearly outclassing those of fighting warriors themselves.
The fighting would be intense, bloody and with no room for retreat, if your horse was killed under you, you would almost certainly be trampled to death in the chaos of battle. Sabres clashed, lances broke, armour was pierced and blood stained the ground as the two armies clashed in a brutal and gruelling melee.

But the sheer mass, the brutality, and above all the audacity of it. You don't charge your horse from one hill into a dale before climbing another. It defied all convention; it would always end in disaster, and you would most certainly be slaughtered.

If they reacted accordingly, that was, for the enemy certainly wasn't expecting it; it was too risky to do. No one would be stupid enough to do it, unless, of course, you knew exactly how to execute such a bold manoeuvre.

Suprised they were, and their lines broke, soon enough, the Khan's men would be at the camp where the remaining civilians had huddled themselves in. But you made use of the bloodbond to keep them from indulging themselves, first victory, then the spoils could be claimed.
>Drive forth, split them in twain, and defeat them in detail.
>Fan out, surround them, then tighten and squeeze.
>Feint and draw them out to exhaust and lure them.

>>6462111
>Drive forth, split them in twain, and defeat them in detail.

>Fan out, surround them, then tighten and squeeze

>>6462111
>Drive forth, split them in twain, and defeat them in detail.

>Fan out, surround them, then tighten and squeeze.

>>6462111
>Drive forth, split them in twain, and defeat them in detail.

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The enemy was broken; their lines was disarray, not even their horses could help them escape the fate which would now inevitably befall them.

Victory would now most certainly be the Khan's, but there was one thing you would ensure before that. The steppe was a large, empty place, where one could just as easily disappear and reappear again, especially if your troops didn't finish the job. You had a schedule you liked to keep to, and you weren't one for delays or distractions.

So instead, amidst the trampled and destroyed tents of the enemy, where the woman and children were now being rounded up for either integration or sale into slavery, you 'suggested' to the Khan that he split his force in two, both to pursue and destroy the remains of this enemy horde. To make certain there was no other player on this part of the steppe but the Khan, and that there would be a clear rear for you to fall back to.

And so, as they went, more thousands of hooves pounded the earth as they rode off in pursuit of their fleeing enemies. It was getting late in the midday now, for while you had come late in the morning, you had expected it to last well into the afternoon.

The sun still beat down harshly, the yellow-green grass stained red with the blood and entrails of the fallen. Strewn in-between were arrows, swords, pieces of armour and barding. All of it would most certainly be looted if it came from the enemy or recovered if it came from your side.

The scent was rich as well, blood already consisting partly of iron, and the metallic tang was strong, dried and wet. Above, the first of the carrion had already begun to circle, their dark forms casting rare shadows on what has otherwise been a clear day. They would eat richly this day and the days thereafter, until the wolves would come as well, and then finally, the worms would have their turn.

But first, you would give death an offering, as in the olden times.

>Base DC of 50
>Numerical advantage: +10
>Enemy lines broken: +15
>DC: 75

To fully defeat the enemy, roll a 2d100 (2d100 instead of a 1d100 to represent the two different areas of fighting).

Rolled 28, 4 = 32 (2d100)

>>6463229

Rolled 43, 9 = 52 (2d100)

>>6463229

Rolled 28, 65 = 93 (2d100)

>>6463229
We've got this.

As the sun crept ever slowly to the horizon, the battle was finally won; the last of the enemy riders was cut down, riddled with arrows, or dragged from their saddles by the victorious horde, eagerly taking their new prizes before the khan.

With the victory now complete, and the field in the hands of the khan, time had come for the general looting and plundering of the enemy camp, ensuring that the spoils of war were distributed among the victorious warriors. The horses of the enemy leader would be the spoils of the Khan. The jewels other trinkets would be given to his favourite concubines. Likewise, the nobles of the kurultai and common warriors were given leave to hoard and salvage as much armour, arms, jewels, horses, and other loot as they could carry on their horses back.

It took about five days in total for them to strip the corpses and prisoners of all valuable possessions, leaving nothing behind but the remains of a tribe which would soon cease to exist. Indeed, you had kept to the background for now, you cared little for material things, and those horsemen would be well served by satiating their greed, proof that your providence in coming here was not in vain.

But that, of course, begged the question of what to do with the remaining prisoners, men, women, and children all. Their mounts had been taken from them, their possessions likewise, tents burnt, and kin slain. All they had left were the clothes on their backs and eyes with which to weep. As you surveyed the desolation around you, you allowed yourself a moment of stoic delight, knowing that, for the time being, this part of the steppe was yours. Operations to raid, pillage and depopulate would soon be planned, wells would need to be poisoned, fields salted, cattle stolen, and the remaining survivors either enslaved or slaughtered.

Speaking of which, it was a matter of debate within the kurultai. Ordinarily, prisoners would either be integrated into the wider horde, sold into slavery, sacrificed to the gods, or simply killed. But you had gotten a rich haul this time, and opinions were divided about what to do with them. The shamans and conservative horselords wished to sacrifice, to give praise to the sky lord and spirits for their victory. The merchants wished to sell, and some among the younger warriors believed that integrating them into the horde would help grow it even further.

The final decision, of course, lay with the Khan, but a few well-placed words whispered into his ear would likely sway his decision one way or another. You had given him no cause to distrust you, nor were you to dispose of him, yet. Of course, the factions of his court saw you in a different light, and while none of them saw you as the true enemy, throwing them a bone every now and then would keep them off your back.

>>6464538
>Give praise to the spirits, host a grand sacrifice
>Sell them all; gold is needed for more and better material.
>Assimilate and integrate them.
>Arrange a compromise; due to the great number of captives, some were sold, some sacrificed, and the best and brightest were integrated.

>>6464539
>Arrange a compromise; due to the great number of captives, some were sold, some sacrificed, and the best and brightest were integrated.

>>6464539
>Give praise to the spirits, host a grand sacrifice
we literally pretend to be a messenger of their sky god
if we keep their faith strong we can later have them make sacrifices to us instead

>>6464538
>Give praise to the spirits, host a grand sacrifice

>>6464608
+1

>>6464539
>>Arrange a compromise; due to the great number of captives, some were sold, some sacrificed, and the best and brightest were integrated.

>>6464539
>Give praise to the spirits, host a grand sacrifice
I, same anon as gwgu8/hL, agree that we need to maintain our faux-spiritual backing.

Such a great victory must be celebrated, and not by getting drunk or wasting time in revelry and excess. You were of the opinion that such a victory could only be attributed to the spirits, and the the sky-lord, the greatest and most powerful spirit of all. From what you could gather, the worship of this figure slowly emerged from shamanic traditions which cross-pollinated between various nomadic tribes. While the details and various lesser patron gods and spirits differ, the main agreement is the primacy of the Sky Lord, who made the wide steppes open and fertile for the tribes to thrive. He encouraged nomadism and bravery, both in battle and in hunting, and while burning horsemeat is considered the traditional method of sacrificing, human sacrifice was not unheard of.

Sacrificing these prisoners to the Sky Lord would most certainly show devotion and piety, even if you yourself didn't really believe in the Sky Lord. You would hold this sacrifice, and you would steer yourself into a position of religious authority. Above and beyond the petty shamans, who didn't have much of an organisation to their services and could thus not muster an effective resistance if you made your move. The Khan still saw you as his advisory wizard and counsellor whose advice always proved valuable. But it was time he and the rest saw you were so, so much more.

And so, as twilight began, you herded the remaining prisoners together, upon a dull incline, closely packed, and began the ritual of sacrifice to the Sky Lord. First, you drew a circle of fire surrounding them; there would be no escape, and all would meet a fiery death. All the horde gathered around to watch, for it would be both a great moment and a gruesome sight. Not only the men would be sacrificed, but the woman and the children too.
As the minutes passed, the flames grew higher and higher. The glow made the faces of the bystanders flicker in a macabre dance of shadows, as warped screams echoed and wailed, until nothing but the crackling fire remained. The smell of burning flesh spread through the air, causing some horses to go wild with fear. But above it all you kept order; you made certain your voice would reverberate throughout the horde so all would hear.

"This sacrifice we make in service and praise to the Sky Lord, he who has given us horses to ride and the steppe to roam. We give this offering not only in thanks, but also ask for blessings in conquests and battles to come!"

Tomorrow, when the fire had died down, the lowest of the low would collect the charred skulls of the enemy to stack them up into a pyramid of skulls, a macabre monument both to the Khan and the Sky Lord, reminding all of what had occurred here. Striking fear into the hearts of any who dared to pass here.

But that was tomorrow; tonight, you would proclaim yourself something great, something significant in their culture.

>>6465849
>Harken unto my words, for the Sky Lord hath chosen me to be his wordly representative upon this earth, and his mandate is mine to grant unto those who follow me. I care not for temporal power, but
>I was born long ago, long before any of you can or will remember. I was, however, not born to parents, nor was I born of this land at all, but from the sky itself, a gift from the heavens to guide and protect those who seek my wisdom.
>Now I can feel the power of the Sky Lord coursing true me! He is most pleased with this offering! He has chosen! And we must obey! For I am now his instrument!

>>6465850
>Now I can feel the power of the Sky Lord coursing true me! He is most pleased with this offering! He has chosen! And we must obey! For I am now his instrument!

>>6465850
>Now I can feel the power of the Sky Lord coursing true me! He is most pleased with this offering! He has chosen! And we must obey! For I am now his instrument!

>>6465850
>>Now I can feel the power of the Sky Lord coursing true me! He is most pleased with this offering! He has chosen! And we must obey! For I am now his instrument!

>>6465850
>>Now I can feel the power of the Sky Lord coursing true me! He is most pleased with this offering! He has chosen! And we must obey! For I am now his instrument!

>>6465850
>Now I can feel the power of the Sky Lord coursing true me! He is most pleased with this offering! He has chosen! And we must obey! For I am now his instrument!

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"Now I can feel the power of the Sky Lord coursing true me! He is most pleased with this offering! He has chosen! And we must obey! For I am now his instrument!" You proclaimed to the assembled warriors of the steppe, floating your body up to add to the point. Let there be no doubt, you were the chosen one, he who shall bring the wrath of the Sky Lord unto the weakling parochialists, that his will and your ambitions were aligned was, of course, only coincidence.

To drive the point home, you shot out some lightning from your hands, signalling heaven's wrath was now in your hands, then you made the dark twilight a bit lighter by driving away the clouds. And all cheered and adored their saviour, their lord, their master. At least in the spiritual sense.

Long ago you had learned that you best leave the day-to-day affairs of vassals in their own hands, keep them distracted and give them a sense of autonomy and fear, for if they slipped up, you would most certainly be displeased. The Khan, for that matter, could keep his mastery of his horde; it mattered little in the grand scheme of things. He already followed your every direction, and now that you were a chosen figure of his god, his loyalty was unwavering.

In the medium term you would use your newfound spiritual and religious status to perhaps unite more of the steppe under your dominion, but for now regional dominance would content you.

The next morning, after a rowdy evening full of drink, food, and song, they did as promised, and a great skull pyramid was constructed out of the charred remains of the captives. It would collapse under its own weight eventually, as time, weather, and the wind gnawed away at its structure, but for now it stood. More permanently were the poles supported by stacked stones and pebbles. Each one kept up by chords with flags on them that represented various clans that were united in the horde.

With your authority unisable, the steppe docile and passive, and the horde ready for more glory, loot and captives, the time had come for the next steps. Obviously conquest would be the desirable end result, but rushing in without knowing your enemy was a fool's errand.

To the direct south lies the Ovarnand, a vale tightly packed with trees, unsuitable terrain for most horse-based nomads, and little of note is to be gained there aside from lumber, or at least that's how it appears on paper; you had a hunch there was more here than you could see from the outside.

To your southwest lies the order state of Minatyr. Where you had been once before, most of their forces should be hunkered down, tying up the lingering remains of the demons, although their many fortresses probably mean they have the manpower to keep other forces at bay if necessary.

>>6466994
And then there's Samarska, an unknown quality as far as you are concerned; its open plains should make it easy terrain for easy raiding parties. But the strength of their arms remains both unknown and unchallenged.

For now there wouldn't be invasion, not yet, you would suggest that the Khan should send scouts to get a lay of the land followed by some quick raids to gauge their reaction. If that worked out, you would invade in full.

For now, what should the primary target for raids and exploration be?
>Minatyr
>Samarska
The Ovarnand

Would you like to independently explore one of the area's?
>Yes, I shall investigate the Overnand
>I want to get the measure of Samarska
>Has Minatyr changed much, or are the knights still stagnant?
>No, I must continue my work here.

>>6466995
>Minatyr
>Yes, I shall investigate the Overnand

>>6466995
>Minatyr
>Yes, I shall investigate the Overnand

>>6466995
>Minatyr
>Yes, I shall investigate the Overnand

>>6466995
>Minatyr
>Yes, I shall investigate the Overnand

The first raid against the west would be against the knights of Minatyr, the guardians who kept the demons at bay with their endless vigil. But how would they fare against an army of fellow humans? Figthing demons make you good at killing demons, but the world is bigger than Minatyr, and while the western kingdoms might send over knights to serve there, how well would they do against horse archers from the east?

Obviously, it wouldn't be a great raid, more of a scouting mission to test their reactions, get a lay of the land, see if there is anything of note to take, and perhaps gauge the strength of the knights of Minatyr. Once all that was done, you would perhaps see about further raids before escalating into full invasion.

But you left it in the hands of the Khan for the time being, for you had business down south. In the Ovarnand. Even from afar it looked forboding, a great vale filled with trees in-between the mountains; the trees looked old, gnarled, and dark. It obviously wasn't a nice place, nor did you expect it to be.

Still, you first did some overhead scouting in dragon form; somewhere south was a dormant or dead volcano. Which was interesting, if you could reopen the magma chamber, it could be used as a powerful forge. Timber aplenty as well, but you would hold off on building a new capital for the time being. For now you were still a ghost, your quality known only amongst those men whom had accepted you in their hearts, wether wittingly or unwittingly. There was always a man before you, while you stood behind the throne like a ghost, the time would come. But not now.

You went into the forest nearly alone, with only your horse as a companion. It didn't easily escape this dark place; though the sun was in the sky, it only pierced through the dense canopy in thin rays. Obviously, you wouldn't go in the forest as a dragon; it appeared thick and without clearing. And you wished to keep a low profile.
This was only the periphery; nothing much would await you here, and yet. You began to anticipate a multitude of things: elves, orcs, giant spiders, dormant ents and fay, both seelie and unseelie. With some you could broker a pact; the others you would do away with. Some could be corrupted, others driven off. You would greatly enjoy defiling anything scared or holy, like blessed springs, altars and sacred groves.

>>6467910
But not much was there here; you passed by the house of a woodsman whose character you found uninteresting. The real haul lay in the depths, as it always does. The deeper you went, the more the roots broke up the dirt roads, until they became little more than narrow, winding trails, barely visible under the thick canopy of trees. Not that you needed light to properly see.

You came across much that had been left behind by those who had made this forest their home. As you rode and walked, you found
>Thick webbing lined some trees in a depression, old, but the silk hadn't yet lost its shimmer.
>An axehead engraved with Dwarven runes, its shaft broken
>An arrow of elvish making, judging by the point and feathers
>The unmistakable stench of orcish excrement
>A trace of fay magic, unseeable with the naked eye

>>6467911
>A trace of fay magic, unseeable with the naked eye

>>6467911
>A trace of fay magic, unseeable with the naked eye

>>6467911
>A trace of fay magic, unseeable with the naked eye

The magic of the fairies, a trace of it at least. You leaned in close and sniffed the fairy dust, which made you cough and sneeze. Filth, fairies were never among your favourite creatures. The seelie ones sided with the forces of good each time you came, and the unseelie ones always grasped and chafed, much like demons; they never quite could accept their role of servitude.

So they were in this forest, playing their games of mischief and trickery, their endless games of mischief, pranks, and deception. Some of them were clever, you admit, magic lights in the mist, which entranced travellers to drown themselves in the swamps. Others were more direct, stealing children from their beds and replacing them with changelings, though they usually changed them back after a day or three.

Which made all the more reason to dislike them: no attempt to coerce the human, no attempt to gain leverage, and not even keeping the child in place. No, they did it for the kicks, and while you did on occasion indulge your more base instincts, you didn't care about havoc for havoc's sake, order must be built on stable foundations.

Nevertheless, you were intrigued; where the fae are, there's power to be had, even if you couldn't grasp at it directly. Knowing what valuables were hidden deep within a wood like this would go a long way in properly rebuilding your empire.

And so on, you rode deeper and deeper; the trees began to turn strange hues, and the paths became twisted and tangled, leading you further into the depths of this ancient forest. You sensed the magic growing stronger in the background, like radiation; it crept around, coming through all things.

Eventually, the path became too steep for you to ride on the horse, so you forsook your feigned frailness for the time being and walked up each and every slope and incline, sometimes more climbing than walking.

But you had found it, that which does not often wish to be found. And thankfully, they were few in number. Some pixies, a singular naiad, and a bear-spirit who guarded the hidden grove, deep in slumber. For now, you kept your distance, using your magic to hide both your presence and the darkness which they would surely sense if you didn't keep it hidden. The bear-spirit's snores echoed through the trees, but you kept your quiet. Trying to kill or capture them will most likely mean fighting it, unless you of course lured them away. But negotiating with them might at least give you some information, for as long you could keep their trust.

>I shall wait for one of them to leave, then I ambush it.
>I shall treat with them.
>I shall attack, three less fae means a weaker forest.

>>6469074
>I shall treat with them.

>>6469074
>I shall treat with them.

>>6469074
>I shall treat with them.

You didn't know their allegiance, nor did you know if they would find you out. But nevertheless, even if you didn't end up hostile or end up getting them under your sway, it was at least good enough to give you information.

And so you approached, with a neutral face and without speaking a word. The pixies danced, the naiad splashed around in her river, and the bear-spirit slept. That was, of course, until you arrived.

"Who are you, and what brings you here?" The bear, now awake, said. He lacked the natural black eyes of bears; his were bright green, and he gazed at you warily.

"I am a traveller, on my way through. I mean, you're no harm, but I am not afraid to defend myself." A sussing lie, but a necessary one. For now you wouldn't show your true colours.

"And what brings you through, oh traveller? These woods aren't safe of itsy titsy tiny feelbe humans like you, although you are not entirely human. Now are you?" The naiad, coming halfway out of the water, teased. How typical, ever the jokesters, these fay.

"Indeed I am not, but that is something for another time to discuss." You said with faked tiredness. Before continuing.

"I am afraid I have lost my way in this Ovarnand; perhaps one of you would be so kind as to point out areas of interest? And those who call these woodlands home?"
"Oh certainly!'' One of the pixies exclaimed. Naive fool.

"See, mister, in the middle of the forest is a very big scary volcano; the faerie queen ripped out its throat long ago, and now it can't threaten anybody. But the queen disappeared after that. There are the halls of the elven princes, but they bicker amongst themselves. Here is one of their old abandoned fortresses; that place is very creepy. Always to the north, those mean humans chop at the trees that can't fight back."

"Is that all?" You asked.

"No, no, close to the mountains is where those even bigger green meanies congregate, leaving their huts in the woods to get trolls from the moors. Or those little goblins who try to tame the spiders, hehehe, they nearly always fail, oh its so funny to see with their big noses sticking out of the sack, we like to sneak up and pinch them, they make the funniest noises!"

>And are there any great fae I need to be aware of?
>Any places of magic, both light and dark, interest me; light so I may study it, and dark so I can…dispel them
>I thank you, I suppose I better be on my way
>Write-in

>>6470153
>And are there any great fae I need to be aware of?

>>6470153
>And are there any great fae I need to be aware of?

"And are there any great fae I need to be aware of?" Fae often ordered themselves into courts, at the head of which usually stood either the most ancient and experienced fae or the most powerful one. Usually they led their court in banquets, celebrations, and other such nonsense. They also led them to war against each other and outsiders. Seelie and Unseelie were the big categorisations, though these two were more alignments than true courts , as fae could switch between them depending on their whims. And creatures ruled by their whimsies did not often stay aligned for long.

But whom they were aligned with ultimately mattered little; ultimately, they would align with you or persish. But the fairies soon answered your question.

"Oh, for sure! There are four of them, one for each season. And they all claim a different part of the forest; the princess of spring is the nicest, and the summer lord is haughty and noble, the autumn king is a huntsman, and the winter queen is mysterious and cold." the naiad summarised.

"Any others?" You asked.

"Well, there is the gnome king, but he is merely a faelike creature. Then there is Pongo, the great fae dragon, but he's deep in sleep. Besides them there are also the various nymphs like me and the guardian spirits like, well, him." She pointed to the bear, who was asleep again. She then whispered something into the ears of the pixies, who, giggling, bundled together a bunch of leaves, scooped up some water from the stream and dropped it onto the bear's nose, causing him to wake up with a start.

"You silly furr-roll, it isn't winter yet." The naiad giggled, and the bear shook his head, looking around in confusion. Before standing up and saying "I wish it was so you would leave me alone." The bear grumbled. "I am going fishing now, so if you don't mind, I'd like to be left in peace." And the bear spirit got on his fours and headed towards the stream with a wry look on his face. The naiad watched him go, still chuckling to herself at the bear's grumpy demeanour.

"Oh well, its time for me to go as well, cha-cha, you little wizard. I do hope you're clever enough for my more capricious kin."

And with that, the pixies, without having someone more powerful to caper with, disappeared into the forest, leaving you alone. You had wished to get more information, more about their whereabouts, but it seemed that the mischievous creatures had decided to keep some of their secrets hidden for now.

You got up and took your horse by the reins once more; indeed, this forested vale was full of interesting things. Whether you would have it chopped down for firewood or corrupted into a dark, gnarled, twisted version of itself you hadn't decided yet. If the Udirgols proved unwilling to go into this wood, you would take it yourself, or if it all collapsed, perhaps it would make for a good hideout. But for now, you would:

>Search for allies among the fae.
>Sow the seeds of corruption, to give yourself a toehold.
>You have seen the living; how about the dead?
>Return to the Udirgol camp; you had seen enough.

>>6471296
>Sow the seeds of corruption, to give yourself a toehold.

>>6471297
>Sow the seeds of corruption, to give yourself a toehold.

>>6471297
>Sow the seeds of corruption, to give yourself a toehold.

This forest had potential; its residue of magic would serve you well, and its spirits could be bound as well. But that would take time, time and subtlety. Sending the Udirgols in to conquer it would be a waste of bodies, arrows, and resources. Here corruption would need to be sown, fester and grow from within. Awakening dark spirits, while weakening those spirits who would resist your influence. As to the rest of them, you would either bring the inhabitants of this woodland to heel or drive them out.

And to do that, you would need a toehold, a bridgehead, a base where dark things could gather and multiply in relative safety. You would search for it, and you would find it, wherever the darkness lingered and wherever the forces of good wouldn't dare pry.

Options, options, options, from abandoned mines to fortresses to hidden caves deep in the forest. But where to begin?

You recalled that one of the fairies mentioned an abandoned elven fortress, most likely collapsed, and a good chunk of it in ruin. A good place to begin, though whether the elves kept a watchful eye on it or not you didn't know, you assumed they did. Those knife-ears aren't as forgetful nor as forgiving as humans. It lay next to a road long decayed, upon a hill sloped slightly to the north. You estimated that you could see the edge of the forest from atop its towers.

Then there were the moors just before the mountains, misty and forbidding, where savage orcs hunted trolls, and trolls ate orcs. Poor creatures, who might benefit from a strong hand to guide them to plunder and pillage in a more organised manner. Broken towers and forts dotted the landscape, remnants of battles long past. But none were higher than ten bricks stacked, for so thoroughly they had been ransacked and destroyed.

And then there were the caves, where the goblins lurked in the shadows, waiting to ambush any and all unsuspecting travellers to rob them blind before throwing them in the pot. While they creatures were by nature sniffling and subservient, they were also cunning, spiteful, and sadistic little creatures in their own right. Often trampled upon by their 'older' Orc brethren. While they couldn't stand up to even a halfing in a fight, there were usually a lot of them.

While one couldn't rule out the other, you desired to return to the Udirgols sooner rather than later, for as long as the shadow encroached, you cared little for its pace. Especially when it was, for now, of secondary importance. You would stake your claim in these lands, and it too would, in due time, be but a province in your wider dominion.

And so you planted your flag at:

>The abandoned fortress
>In the moors
>In the goblin caves

As for who would garrison it for you you chose

>Dark spirits
>Giant spiders
>Forest orcs

>>6472414
>In the goblin caves
>Forest orcs

>>6472414
>In the moors
>Forest orcs

Rolled 2 (1d2)

Orcs it will be, now between the caves and moors

1: Caves

2: Moors

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Though not part of the forest proper, the moors that bridge the gap between it and the mountains are vast, not in width, but certainly in length. Even without the shadow of the forest, this place felt gloomy and bleak. Forboding mountain before you, an eerie forest behind you. And around you, nothing but soggy moors stretching endlessly into the distance, shrouded in mist and misery.

Roads did not exist here. What remains of buildings there once were were covered in moss and mold. Little noise was made here, save the occasional bird making the trek from the mountains to the woods; the grass held the dew of the mist in a chilling embrace. The air was heavy with that gloom that so tightly gripped the land.

You rode on for a few days, on occasion going back into the forest and exiting it again; picking up their scent was easy, trying to find them less so. Indeed, for so-called forest orcs they did on occasion leave their woodland dwellings to raid and hunt; the moors were prime hunting for both orcs from other tribes, for their possessions and meat, and trolls for their hides and meat. Anything else had been hunted to near extinction in these lands, leaving only the hardiest of creatures to survive.

And yet the thought they were the one who had spotted you, the fools, on a clear day, on one of their underling scouts had spotted you, and whoever was their chief was apparently eager to get their hands on some manflesh. A trap, an obvious one, one which you will walk straight into. For you didn't fear some motly gang of orcs with rusted weapons.

Stupid creatures, easily cowed by shows of force and brutality, based around primitive clan systems and almost comedic duels to see who will be the chief or warlord or boss or whatever title they like to give themselves. That mattered little; it would be easy to bring them to heel. Disobienent dogs are beaten into submission, and these orcs would be no different.

Out of the mists came a greenish tint upon their ugly, tusked faces. Their grunts and snarls filled the air as they advanced, their crude weapons glinting in the dim light. "Manflesh, the chieftain will desire it, but perhaps we can take a little nibble." One of them snickered, eliciting a chorus of guttural laughter from the others, before being hit on the head by the leader.

"Quiet! That manling is going to the chief in full; he will decide who will get what to eat." The leader of this band of orcs snarled.

You, however, were of a different opinion. You hadn't even gotten off your horse, nor would you need to, for lightning crackled forth from your fingers and staff, roasting and sizzling the orcs where they stood. Burnt flesh broke up the smell of the bog and dirty water as you dismounted to interrogate the one survivor.

You grabbed him by what you supposed counted as the collar, surprising him with your strength.

>>6473450
"Where dost thy master dwell? Speak, and may let thee live." You growled. The orc, not quite roasted, scowled.

"Rot, I ams not telling you anything, Kruzglak will kill you, flithy wiza-" You put your hand on his throat. And with your other, you took a dagger from your robes.

"Mayhaps thou thinkest that I am going to kill thee regardless; mayhaps I am, but I might do it slowly. Shall we begin with thy ears?"
"No, no! Kruzglak is in the camp; go into the forests straight south, then turn left by the old birch, and then take a right at the fork in the path. You'll find him there; please spare me!" The orc pleaded, fear evident in his eyes. Satisfied, you plunged the dagger into his throat.
You took the route the orc had laid out for you, down the path, up the fork, and finally, you arrived as a dismally built palisade. You broke in, what accounted for the garrison was already shocked by the fact you had approached them before attacking.

Kruzglak was indeed there, in front of his hovel, if you had to guess. Large he was, a double-headed axe in his hand, teeth gnashing, and a malevolent red glint in sickly green eyes.

"You, your that filthy humie I ordered Gnugrak and the others to kill or capture, imbeciles, I suppose I must deal with you myself."

>Indeed I am, and thou shalt perish.
>I give thee one last chance to submit or die.
>Say nothing and blast him with magic
>Write-in

>>6473451
>I give thee one last chance to submit or die.

>>6473451
>I give thee one last chance to submit or die.

>>6473451
>Say nothing and blast him with magic

>>6473451
>>Say nothing and blast him with magic

Rolled 2 (1d2)

1: Submit or die

2: Blast magic

With orcs there is but one universal, and that is that they only respect strength and power. Physical prowess above all, for only the strongest of the strong may lead the tribe in battle; he is the supreme chief of his tribe in all matters legal and otherwise. Insofar as an orc has a concept of law. But at heart, the orc remains a weak creature, easily manipulated and intimidated by one with more power. They might talk about how they value honour and consider magic to be a sign of weakness, but ultimately it is strength that they truly worship. Raw strength, not physical strength, was ultimately a greater arbitrator. He who can kill the chieftain ultimately becomes the chieftain.

And though you were an outsider, cowing these wretches into obedience would be childs play for the likes of you; keeping them that way might prove more difficult. But for now you would jostle them into line, asserting your dominance over them. And for that, the little warrior would have to die.

From atop your horse, you smiled a wicked smile and levelled your staff at the orc chieftain. The chief roared in anger, raised up his great axe and rushed towards you with great and terrible rage. It would all be for naught, however, for from your staff sparked great bolts of lightning that struck the chieftain down before he could reach you. The metal of the axe melted, he collapsed onto the ground and convulsed in pain as the electricity coursed. That wasn't enough for you, however, and you upped the intensity of the attack. For you wished not simply for to die, but for his corpse to be erased from the face of the earth. His body disintegrated into ashes, which you swiftly scattered by conjuring up a gust of wind.

Satisfied, you rode into the centre of this village of hovels and set alight his hovel as well. This chieftain's hall would burn. Whoever was inside had enough time to come out, and the rest of the orcs quietly and fearfully gathered around you.

"I am thy master now, or are there others whom wouldst deny my that which is mine?" You declared loudly and clearly. None came, and for the time being, you were their lord.

"W-what are your demands, master?" One of the younger and scrawnier orcs whimpered. You peered into his soul, a weakling who chafed under his betters. Oh, but there were many of those: The bullied, the craftsman, the female, the cripple and the coward.

"My design requires ye lot to uproot from this forest and move to the moors; there thou shalt establish thyself and await mine instructions. Thy may use this wood for timber and fuel for thy fires, and thou shalt mine the earth as well. Fail me not, or ye shall face the consequences," you commanded with a voice that echoed through the trees.

"The moors? With all those dirty troll things? In the mists? I'd rather—" One of the other orcs started to object, but you cut him off by making your eyes glow.

>>6474592
With not another word spoken, they began packing, crude trinkets and weapons being hastily thrown into bags. A ragtag band which looked more like a convoy of refugees strumpled out of the forest into the moors. They would scavenge for anything salvageable among the ruins, even the stones, to be built into an ad hoc fort from which hunting parties could hunt and capture trolls and other creatures. The mists would hide it from enemies, and the vantage point upon which it was built would hand them the advantage in any conflict for it.

There was only one thing you would do before you returned to your other vassals. You needed a captain, or would 'lieutenant' be a more accurate word, someone who could keep this scum in line in your absence and would ensure that operations in this area ran smoothly and efficiently.

>Simply pick the biggest and the strongest one, bind him to your will, and put him in charge.
>Turn this crude society upside down, the strong shall serve the weak, and the oppressed shall be handed the whip.
>Find whatever goes around for a priest or mage, a shaman most likely, put them in charge, and offer him or her knowledge for servitude.

>>6474594
>Find whatever goes around for a priest or mage, a shaman most likely, put them in charge, and offer him or her knowledge for servitude.

>>6474594
>>Turn this crude society upside down, the strong shall serve the weak, and the oppressed shall be handed the whip.

>>6474594
>Turn this crude society upside down, the strong shall serve the weak, and the oppressed shall be handed the whip.