The Hawk and the Eagle
“They come. The Swadians come.” Ganbold felt his horse tremble underneath him, anxious for battle – even though he had come to report, the day was hot and sunny, the clouds having broken through a recent rain. Although it was not as dry or pleasant as the steppes themselves, it was an auspicious day for a battle. The Swadians had come to reclaim a piece of land they had long since viewed as theirs by right; it was hardly farmable or settlable by the sedentary folk of Swadia, so why did they approach? No reason, except to fight. It was fine with Ganbold – if they chose to fight for such reasons, then let them arrive on their overburdened beasts, their lords ordering forth undertrained and overworked peasants! They would be slaughtered by arrows and lances before they ever set foot in Unuzdaq Castle!... However, there was no Noyan to preside over this battle. Instead, the one in charge of this Zuut was currently surveying the hastily contracted barriers around with one hand over his eyes to blot out the bright sunlight.
Baheshtur smiled broadly, his own horse well-fed and cared for. It's mane had been knotted and many trinkets tyed into the knots, and it stomped the ground in nervous excitement. The only time he felt this alive was on the field of battle – and it seemed that good fortune had befallen them. “A noble enemy, come to take a worthless scrap of land with it's price in blood... Send a messanger to their Noyan – they call themselves Counts in Swadia. Tell him that if they surrender, we shall not raze Dhirim.” It was a bluff, built on the great conquests of their forebears and the legendary Khan who once cowed all of Calradia in fear – the Khergit had it's own lands, far to the east in the great Steppe, and cared little for the lands to the west. Even if they had, the Khanate today was fractured between children... A sad fate. But Baheshtur knew that it would come to this, and cared not. Blood and gold sang, and where their music called out, fun and frenzy were sure to follow.
And besides. He had heard of this particular host – This Count Devlian.
He was a cruel man, who viewed the Khergit as nothing but barbarians. A peculiar thought among the Swadians, Baheshtur thought, was to chronically undervalue their enemies. Devlian himself promised his overlord much, and delivered little. If this were a Khergit assault, they would have realized the weak defenses of Unuzdaq and fell upon it like a great wave – but Devlian had yet to send even a meagre force, only loitering around the villages of the few Khergit farmers and settlers who chose a life at the field to a life at the saddle. Baheshtur did not think highly of them – but nor did he think highly of a coward who chose only to fight the weak instead of engaging in an entertaining battle. Not that he should really be here, anyway-
“Baheshtur. It is not their Count who rides towards us. I came to tell you that the man who leads their host brings a great mob of Swadian rabble, riding a horse of spackled white.” Baheshtur listened closely, his smile slowly widening – Ganbold wondered if it could spread any further. “This man sings loudly to himself, often wonders on his own, and would be an easy target to charge at while he goes far astray from his unit; we cannot see or hear why his men are so loyal to him, but it is obvious he is not part of the Swadian court.” Scratching his beard, which Baheshtur felt was similar in stature to the great mane of his horse, the Khergit chuckled.
“So it seems that today is a good day, indeed!... I ride to meet this man. Prepare the Zuut to defend the castle – on my signal, pelt the army with arrows and do not stop until they lie broken or routed! Have the settlers flee east while we wait. Hugu Noyan and his armies lie in wait – they will make their journey upon their own from there. Do not expect me to stop fighting even should I fall in battle; I shall expect nothing less of any of you! Hya!” Laughing jovially, Baheshtur rode towards the front, leaving Ganbold to alert the fortress – but most of that work had already been done. Tired but proud, the Khergit began to move in a great procession, their horses leaving Unuzdaq as the commotion of the new force from Swadia grew closer in the distance.
But, as always, we are getting ahead of ourselves.
-
“Keep moving, Brothers! We have already reached our destination – now we march upon our destination, to liberate Unuzdaq from both Swadia and Khergit alike! If we rest now, the Khergit will fall upon you, gut you, and feed your bones to their horses!” Bunduk drifted from man to man whispering words of encouragement and clapping each soldier on the back – though he hadn't had a drink in sometime, he still had the ability to make every soldier feel as if they were safe among friends in a pub, instead of marching to a battle against the legendary forces of the Khergit Khanate.
Not that Klaes minded – it was a welcome edition to the group, especially with his trusted retainers
stop thinking like that stop still recovering from their wounds. Bunduk had an easiness of manner that belied his inner strength, and although Klaes didn't always approve of the foul sludge he drunk, he did approve of Bunduk's thoughts on nobility, his courtesy, and his talk of brotherhood. It would be nice to have a brother – speaking of which, didn't he have someone kind of like that..?
“Heeeey, Louve! Cheer up! I was just thinking how great a sister you are! Aren't you excited to see Khergit lands with your own eyes? I bet there'll be a lot of really interesting people we'll get to meet, kyahahahaha! Oh, don't look so down – I'm just going to pretend that's a smile!” Louve shot a deadly look at Klaes, full of venom – and a subtle amusement that would have been invisible to one who hadn't known the riders from Veidar for some time. They both chuckled, although to call that discordant laughter of Klaes' a chuckle somehow did it a disservice.
“If my wounds weren't aching, I'd strike you unconscious and urge the men back towards Dhirim. How you find good cheer after what we've just been through – is it your head?” Louve asked this quietly, the playfulness vanishing from her voice. Klaes bit his tongue and turned away. Not that he had to answer that – but Louve had asked, and he was honest to his kin.
About most things. Luckily, he was spared the pain of memories and regrets as Nizar rode up from the back of the procession. On seeing Louve, he managed to bow from horseback – an impressive feat. From afar, Aethelric noticed his example, and seemingly have gotten over his mixed feelings about the troubador, attempted to mimic his action – nearly falling off of his mount for his trouble.
Upon seeing the two, Louve smiled with slightly more warmth than her near-featureless face usually displayed, and rode to the side, quietly whispering things to soldiers in her own way of encouragement. It was unsure what she said, but whatver words she whispered, the men of Swadia heeded with a look of fear upon their faces. Her methods of encouragement were not like those of Bunduk; after all, she was a Desmarais. Nizar chortled and asked Klaes something he had been meaning to ask for some time now - “About your sister-”
“Denied. Off-limits. A crime punishable by execution!.. As a brother, er, Brother, that's my stance on things. Kyahaha!”
Klaes' laughed at his own joke – but with the smooth practice of his trade, Nizar deflected it without thought. “Come now, Klaes – as if I had come to ask something so obvious. And besides, would I not ask Louve instead of yourself? You are not your sister's keeper, as they say in Swadia-” Klaes coughed, looking somewhat surprised... And possibly hurt? Nizar hadn't expected that.
“I... Ah, that's not what I meant. I hadn't meant to say that she deferred to my opinion, or that I had a right to make decisions for her or anything - It was a joke, because I figured that you must, you know, have intentions..” Feeling very awkward, Klaes fidgeted with the saddles of his new horse – a stallion by the name of Reucharle. Nizar put his arm around Klaes' back and shook his head with a knowing smile.
“Klaes. It's fine – a joke is a joke, and given my mannerisms I suppose it's only natural for you to make that assumption – though I think a smith of words like myself is more suited for a nightengale than a wolf. Hah!.. Your sense of humor can't be helped, but never would I see you as one to control the actions of another – at least in that manner.” Calming Klaes down adeptly, Nizar asked the question he had originally intended.
“Louve, however – you realize she is quite shaken by that defeat, but more concerned for you, still? You press yourself and your friends hard, Klaes. What is your goal here? Besides a truly epic struggle, I see no point in your first goal as a mercenary being the attack of an otherwise insignificant town in the Khergit hinterlands.” Cutting straight to the point. Klaes issued with a wave for the soldiers to march on – and fell far behind them, amongst Aethelric and Nizar. Louve noticed her brother's strange expression and drifted back over, looking mildly intrigued. It wasn't often that Klaes looked guilty.
“... Ah, it's as good a time as any. Aermn... Louve. Aethelric. It's down to us three, assuming Herve is fertilizing a field somewhere with the blood of perverts and betrayers, and Mortimer has become some sort of wandering man-at-arms. And that's what I've been thinking – you don't need to come with me any more. You realize I'm quite serious about my goals – you both know the reasons why.” Louve and Aethelric were silent, and Nizar noticed the sudden hardness in their expressions – it was not something he needed to ask, he decided.
“There's a lot of good places you can live on your money, and both of you deserve independent lives. I mean, you know, it's quite possible that I'm a little, kyahahah!... What I'm trying to say is, leave. If you want.” Klaes fumbled with his words, and finally just shrugged, riding Reucharle around in circles – it would have been funny if he didn't look so frustrated.
“... Good.” Aethelric said, smiling slowly. “I've wanted to stop fighting for sometime. I'm not a warrior, Klaes. I never will be. I hate fighting – I hate this bloodshed, the needless death. Do you know, in my dreams I still -” They all fell silent. Klaes broke it with red face and tired eyes.
“Ah, well – that's good. I'll see you around, I guess? If you stop by Veidar, please tell our kin that-” Aethelric cautiously urged his horse over to the older man and glowered at him stolidly. Klaes, for once, went quiet.
“I said I wanted to stop fighting, not leave. I know you cannot read, Klaes – but you can read people, can you not? I'm not a fighter, but where would I go that would be remotely pleasant for one such as I? I can think only of the Monastries – and there are things I do not think I would find good in the halls of the Creator.” A slight smile crossed Aethelric's lips. “No. I shall stay with you, but stop sending me to the front lines. You at least need someone to serve as a quartermaster while you learn to read, and I think there might be other places I could be of use. I said I would fight alongside with you – and this is my way. Brother.” They both chuckled at Aethelric's imitation, Klaes looking more grateful than he could express with words – another rare sight.
“Well then - Louve? I take it you don't want to move to some field far in the country, settle down on a great farm and wait this whole thing over?.. Not too many draft their sisters into this sort of thing, so...” Louve simply stared at her brother with a stony face, eyes glazing over with that eerie glass-eyed look that Klaes knew she wore when lost in thought – or trying to unnerve him. It was unfair, really.
“And you think that I'd leave? Especially after even Aethelric stays alongside you? Not to bring offense.” She smiled toothily at Aethelric, who looked embarrassed and muttered something non-commital. “.. Truly, brother. This is the only time I've felt alive in my entire life. Should I leave now, would I return to being simply another laborer in the fields, to become a laborer in the home, and finally relying on the laborer of others?.. It is not a bad life, but it is not mine. You should send a courier to Veidar, though – wouldn't mother and father be amused to see how much coin we've made already..?” Neither mentioned that Herve's father should be alerted to his sons presumed passing.
Still – Klaes only beamed, and suddenly threw his arms around Louve and Aethelric – both of whom winced, still recovering from noticeable injuries. “I... You guys... Kyahaha! Great! The best friends I could possibly ask for! We'll take Unuzdaq Castle by nightfall and feast on a banquet richer than any other when we get there! The great army of Veidar marches forth! Go! Get out of my sight and tell the troops we're gonna dance in the ashes of the castle ruins!” The three threw their fists into the air, and Aethelric muttered something quietly – Louve and Klaes laughed, and his siblings – one by blood, and another by chance – rode past him. Nizar smiled to himself.
“... Satisfied? Your questions were in vain, o' poet, as it appears my allies will stand by my side even when I am a rotting corpse lining the walls of a Khergit war tower.” Klaes beamed even as Nizar chuckled to himself – perhaps at Klaes' good mood, and perhaps at something else entirely.
“Never was in doubt of that, captain!.. I asked not to test the loyalty of your friends to you, but you to them. A leader who does not give their troops regular chances to leave is not a leader – and one who asks endless loyalty from friends is barely a human. You are seemingly quite mad – but it seems you are either sane or mad enough to care for Louve and Aethelric, so I look forward to seeing how your madness plays out in this coming battle – although I must ask why you chose to take Unuzdaq Castle.”
Instantly Klaes' expression hardened into something Nizar had never seen nor expected, his face lined with a canny intelligence that belied his usual carefree and chaotic manner. For some time Klaes stared at him before breaking into that familiar grin with it's sharp angles and jagged asymmetry. “... Pretty smart. I don't trust too many people, you know. It's far better to be thought a fool and a madman, and then achieve some small success, then to be thought a genius and stumble into a great trap.” Klaes scratched at his chin, and was irritated to find straw-like stubble at his fingertips. That wouldn't do at all – a nice shave would be in order, later-
“All right, I guess I'll take you into my confidence, Nizar!.. It'll be more interesting this way, anyhow. This is a feint – if we press any further into Khergit land, we'll be outnumbered and overpowered. Mostly, we – I – need prestige. If we don't have that, there is no way the nobles will trust us, and if they do not trust us, we cannot gain land or respect. If we have neither of those... Well, you see how it is. In addition, Unuzdaq castle is indefensible for Swadia – any Noyan within horn's call can ride back and take it, and we have not the manpower to secure it. It's a great win, kyahahaha! If we need to cast our lot with the Khanate, it means we haven't done much to weaken them, and they'll see it that way.”
Nizar stared at Klaes with a new respect – surely, this man
was mad. Of his mania however, there was also something else... And what an interesting puzzle it was. Already Nizar could feel the begginnings of a story brewing in his mind. It would travel quite well, and interest many fine courts – and courtly ladies – should it be spread upon the swift wind of a well-heeled voice. “A pity you weren't around during the border dispute between the Rhodok and the Sarranid, Klaes – it would have been fun to chronicle your ideas during that time. However, I must say I am honored to be taken into your confidence! When we take Unuzdaq, I shall look forward to your next plan of action. In fact, I may have a few suggestions of my own, should you care to listen.”
Smiling, Klaes nodded his head, then turned to the approaching hoofbeat of Bunduk, who was looking grim. “Brother! A man rides towards on swift horse. S'a Khergit, all right- looks to be the Noyan of these parts, at least if the Khergit left a Noyan for such a small force. Probably one of their temporary commanders... What was it.. Jurchen? No, that's not right – Jurtchi?.. Something like that. He doesn't have an honor guard – it's obvious he's here to negotiate. What should we do, Captain?”
Klaes only laughed in reply, Reucharle's iron-shod hooves beating upon the ground as he rode the courser forward. “Bunduk, my good man! Watch as we make history! Kyahahah! Brothers!” He may or may not have muttered the word 'and sister' quietly under his breath; none could hear clearly as the thunder of hooves clattered around them. “I ride to meet the enemy in parley that we may avoid bloodshed and win a swift battle! But what the enemy knows not is that our battle shall be swift in any circumstance, for we fight with the providence of the Creator, the rightness of our cause, and the fury of our kin! Kyahahaha! Prepare to storm the castle! Kill anyone who resists! Klaes of Veidar rides forth!” And so laughing with a glee that echoed throughout the steppe valley, two commanders met in the summer heat before an auspicious battle for both of them – but for reasons neither could predict.
-
Baheshtur frowned as the man rode up to him; the Swadian was no Count, nor a leader in any sense of the word. His army was unpolished, his hair like a bale of hay, and his sword unnecessarily large. Baheshtur was an observant man, and couldn't help but wonder if Swadia had simply run out of leaders and began to simply hire men from beyond the sea – it would not be an impossibility. Still, Khergit tradition demanded that the offer to surrender be given; and Baheshtur always complied with tradition, at least when it was also sound strategy.
“Greetings and well come, Swadian. I am Baheshtur, serving as protector of this place. I see you ride towards Unuzdaq. Know that the Khan sees this and you shall be summarily crushed between the hooves of our steeds should you proceed – but should you surrender, you and your men will be welcomed into the Khanate with open arms, and we shall take mare's milk at the castle!” Klaes made a thoughtful murmur and placed his fingers under his chin.
“Mare's... Milk? Never had it. Sounds pretty good, actually! I, Klaes, shall take you up on your offer, kyahahaha!” Baheshtur blinked twice. Wait, had the man already surrendered? Well, it was unexpected but good news – the settlers could return now. Although, he must have misunderstood- “Oh, you're calming down. Sorry, but we're still going to be taking Unuzdaq. It's not that I really want to take the castle – it's just a hunk of rock with some sharp sticks in front of it. But, you know, it was a hot summer's day and something needed to happen-”
Klaes shrugged as if apologetic. “- And amazingly, this should make Count Devlian view me as some sort of hero. My intelligence gathered maybe thirty pairs of hooves going in and out of the castle proper, and I'll place fifty more within the stables – in other words, the advantage is ours. But if you surrender, the Great Klaesian Host'll greet all of your refugee's with open arms and we'll take sweet rosewater at my new castle!” Baheshtur couldn't believe himself. Was this man actually suggesting..?
Laughing, the Khergit shook his head. “Amazing. You are truly a funny man, Klaes. Would that we were not enemies, so that I could truly appreciate your suggestion and it's possibilities!... Unfortunately, I must decline your hospitality and rain arrows upon your head – some may even impale my horse and I, but if they do, at least they shall also likely make a corpse out of you as well.” Klaes nodded as if this suggestion was quite normal.
“Oh, so you were planning on that..? Good plan, I like it. “ Klaes began to ride, Reucharle's gait slowly speeding up as Baheshtur rode alongside them – neither drew their weapons as the hot sun beat down upon them, simply watching the other and waiting for a chance to strike.
“It is a good plan, though not to my preference; were it me, a battle between the two of us would decide everything! A drinking competition, perhaps! Much better than attacking a castle you have no need for!” As they rode, Baheshtur looked towards the sun – it was unseasonally hot, and the brightness hurt his eyes, but not as much as it should have; for flying so high as to seem near the sun itself was a well-trained hawk. The Khergit smiled, waiting for the right moment.
“Drinking..? Ugh, I must admit I'm not terribly fond of the stuff – blame a lingering paranoia, would you? Anyway, you and I seem like we could work well together; a pity we have to fight today, especially since I don't want this castle, you don't want those settlers to be hurt, and neither of us want to die an arrow-filled death. Well, I don't, anyway.”
Baheshtur didn't show his surprise – perhaps he no longer was surprised by this strange commander to be caught off guard. “I'd ask how you knew I cared for the settlers at Unuzdaq; it's not as if I like the placid lifestyle of those who waste themselves instead of living, but there have been enough battles with Swadian swords here, and I am tired of it. Why do you need to be viewed as important, anyway?”
Klaes flashed the tooth-lined smile he had become famous for. “Good question! Why don't you trigger those archers you have in wait so it looks like we're fighting to the death, and I'll tell you!” Baheshtur had already raised his hand to the sky; and as the hawk cried out, the sun was covered not by it's wings but by the span of a much greater bird, it's body composed entirely of arrows; arrows that fell out of the sky in droves and pelted the ground with their quarrels.
Somehow, the two commanders had managed to avoid being skewered by their many points; the accuracy of the Khergit's had not failed them, however, and Klaes was soon holding his cavalry shield aloft, making a mental note of how even a handful of the bolts threatened to tear through the sturdy Swadian wood as if it were mere paper. “To be honest, I'm planning to take over Swadia and get rid of all this useless fighting – people like you and I aren't needed in this new world, are we? So we might as well end it all in the largest brawl the world has ever seen!” Both laughed, the clatter of their swords sounding like a reflection of that same laughter.
“A fascinating plan, Klaes! I must admit that I am interested!”
“Then call your forces at Unuzdaq off – by the time my army arrives, we shall stage a battle where only those who wish to fight and die in wonderful combat shall cross paths! Afterwords, meet me at Halmar- and we shall create history! Kyahahaha!” Klaes found his blade parried at every turn, but Baheshtur stayed his hand – and smiled.
“Very well then – I ride to Unuzdaq! We will meet again soon, Klaes of Swadia! Do not die before then!”
-
The rest of the battle drifted by quickly; most of the garrison met Klaes' army outside of Unuzdaq proper, and the battle was both swift and surprisngly non-lethal, on both sides. Prisoners were let free as opposed to captured, and Bunduk couldn't help but feel he had missed something; nevertheless, the near-lack of casualties was excellent moral for the band, and now Unuzdaq Castle flew the flag of Swadia!
“It's a right pity you can't ask for it though, Brother. You'd do a damn sight better at administrating it than whatever foul-brained depraved son of inbred revelry gets his dirty hands on it. Still, I imagine that you've made quite the name for yourself – what next? Are you going to go further into Khergit land?” In reality, Bunduk had wanted to ask exactly why the battle had been so easy; the Khergit were not weak foes, and Unuzdaq had seemed almost empty when they arrived; of the enemy commander, there had been no sign.
“Nope- well, we're gonna stop at Halmar so we can pick up that Baheshtur. Good Brothers are a boon to the cause of us common folk, am I right?... It seems like the Khan had forgotten about this place and it's settlers long ago, Bunduk. Nobles are pretty much the same no matter where you go.” The bitterness was obvious in Klaes' words – but so was the subtly-edged optimism.
“Ah, so you're poaching enemy commanders now..? Quite the diplomat, Captain. Well – let's at least set up the shell of a garrison and leave it nicely tied for the Swadian folks to take home. No offense meant, but it doesn't seem like they would've been able to take it otherwise-” And nor they wouldn't, for when Count Devlian cautiously arrived, the shock shown on his face was unmistakable. Aethelric mentined drily that it looked as if he might have fallen off of his steed in shock, had he not been firmly stirruped to it.
After the obligatory thanks and payments from Swadia's treasury, Klaes urged his men rest – and with his inner circle, rode stealthily towards Halmar. Bidding them set up a covert camp outside the city walls, he stealthily made his way inside as a mendicant looking for a relic of the city when it had been ruled by the Vaegir; and indeed, Halmar was a beautiful city that combined elements of architecture from the Ger of the Khergit to the domed chapels so common among the icy lands the Vaegir called home.
His first stop was not the tavern, however; as Klaes found himself surprised and enticed by the beauty of the town; perhaps it was the same wanderlust that had gripped him as a youth, or the simmering madness that he believed to dwell upon his mind; perhaps it was the welcoming gates of the castle, one welcoming and friendly, unlike the closed fortresses of Swadia. Whatever the cause, he found himself sneaking inside, the brown hood of his robe doing little to hide the straw-like mess of his hair.
Neither guard nor courtier – if the men and women of the Khergit Khanate could be called that, seeming as they did to eschew titles when possible – payed him much heed. Even as a foreigner, he did not seem dangerous; and so he was welcome here. Fine foods lay on the tables, and the sound of music drifted from a large waiting hall – the music was being played by Khergit musicians, but the tune was unmistakeably Swadian.
He looked into the antechamber, and saw the reflection of sharp eyes – and quickly left, unsure of why he felt led here, and why he had so suddenly felt the need to leave before the lady whose outfit of fine orange and red bore the symbol of the Swadian eagle noticed him with that stare which seemed so forlorn and yet so piercing all at the same time. Not long after he left, the lady bade the music stop, and wandered into the foyer of Halmar castle – but of the agape mendicant who had seemed so shocked, there was no sign.
-
“So you decided to come, Klaes. Do we ride to to find great battles and do greater deeds? It would not do my ancestors proud to spend time waiting and defending plots of land, when the sky itself cries out in pain.” It was hard to tell if Baheshtur was joking or being serious; perhaps he was both, honoring tradition while viewing it with a gentle skepticism. The man opposite him, however, bore none of his usual confidence – and kept staring over his shoulder, if expecting someone.
“Uh, yes. If you woud like, we'll gladly take you! Kyahaha, the more the merrier, I always say – it'll probably get bloody, so I'll be counting on you to cause plenty of disorder!... Uhmn. This might take away whatever respect I've earned from you, but-”
“Five hundred denarii. That's my fee for your help – the money goes to those whom you forcibly ejected from their farms. And another five hundred for my services.” Klaes laughed loudly and slapped the table several times – this drew no unwanted eyes, as spasming seekers of religious guidance were not uncommon in Calradia. Then, there was the same clatter of gold that seemed to be following Klaes like a plague, and after a brief count, Baheshtur smiled.
“You are an honorable man, Klaes. It shall be fun to fight alongside you, as opposed to against you. Let us ride!”
“Uh, no – I mean, yes! But, you see, there was something else. I hadn't meant to ask about the cost, you see, that was what was so funny. Ah – how to began..? There was... There's a woman, at Halmar castle... I liked her eyes.” Baheshtur chuckled, but waited patiently – Klaes said no more.
“That isn't much to go on, my friend – is that all?”
“... That's all. I guess there was nothing else. Shall we go?”
So they left, and Baheshtur was introduced summarily to the group. But no one missed that Klaes seemed distracted by something, even as they rode back towards Dhirim, where a large feast and a tournament had been organized in their honor – the first victory against one faction that the kingdom of Swadia had won on either front.
And for once, no matter the jokes or cheers of his companions, Klaes was silent.
-
Companion Spotlight: Baheshtur
Baheshtur~ He's amazing. A good sense of humor, fine with the pillaging and the raiding, a great guy to have around and a GREAT HORSE ARCHER YOU KNOW I THINK THAT'S A GOOD CLASS nuff said, anyway. He was the first person I recruited when I played Warband, so I have to use him every time. It's just a given. What? That makes no sense? Sssh. I like how he talks about tradition and then charges you an exorbitant fee – one foot in the old world, one in the new; my kind of ally! Not that I'm a fan of money myself, but in a world like Calradia, it seems he'll do quite well. Seems the group is growing nicely-
Nation Spotlight: Khergit Khanate
A land steeped in tradition and new to the subcontinent of Calradia, yet whose mighty horses and skilled archers bring terror to the mired kingdoms of the realm, the Khergit are not a single people but many, who have banded together into the great Host known as the Khanate. Founded by a legendary leader who came from a land far to the east, the Khanate seemed unstoppable until a battle upon the fields of the southern Vaegir lands. It was not a military defeat that stopped them, but the news of the death of their Great Khan's successor; and ever since, infighting and the growth of sedentary lifestyles among the Western Host has led to their decline.
That being said, they are still strong in the east, where it is said they rule a great land; and the silks and culture of this land regularly grace the trade of the wealthiest of Burghers and Nobles in Swadia. Most of the Khergit practice a form of Shamanism and sky-worship that blends animism and a love of nature; but the Sarranids have began to introduce their version of Creator-worship and it's monotheism into their lands, while in the east, a religion preaching non-violence and and worldly detatchment, stillness and non-emotion is supposedly taking hold. But these religions are still marginal in Khergit lands, which practices a tolerance of all faiths unequaled in Calradia. They share good relations with the Nords of Nordland, for their cultural and religious practices are the only ones left that openly venerate the old ways and the natural world; and perhaps those two shall soon be gone.
Militarily, the Khergit Khanate is the most feared force in Calradia. While this is perhaps not very accurately modeled in-game, a horse in Calradia is akin to a tank in our time; and every Khergit owns their own horse, whether man, woman, or child. In addition, while women must disguise themselves to serve militarily in every other culture save that of the Nords, it is not uncommon for some of the constituent tribes of the Khanate to raise banners of women soldiers. Thus, their forces are not only huge, but well-equipped; and their tactics inspire fear wherever they go.
Yet, the Khergit do not fight out of a desire to own land, but because it brings with it peace to move indepdently, as they like – only time will tell if this expansion has unintentionally doomed the freedoms they hold so dear, as three nations greedily look towards their over-extended lines of supply and see wealth and unclaimed pasture...
-
Кстати, я люблю Монголию, и все страны. мирy мир! <3
I still vote that we terraform sweet Selene first, if nothing else to get things rolling. Even if it takes a long (long, long, long) time, the investment in our future would be well worth it. Of course, with the withdrawl of a certain country from the cool kids space club, it might take a little longer - sigh.
And thank you so much for your compliments; everyone is so nice here... Thank you! I hope you'll stick around and keep enjoying this. 
Oh, and viciously maul people with shears, but that's not really a tournament weapon, so I'll just place bets-
