Daughters of War

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Introductions: Hello. I'm a long-time player and fan of the Mount and Blade series. I started playing Mount and Blade on the original version 6.5 (I think it was...). I love the random number generators in games such as these, and the random quests. Being an old fan of Daggerfall, something about the openness of a game's storyline and direction just sparks my imagination. That said, it surprises me that this is the first time I've put down one of my characters to text. I'm a little rusty, so this is as much an exercise in writing skill as a passing amusement for myself.

For the type of story I'm going to do here, it may read more dramatically than a historic account, a humorous account (not my style, though I do enjoy reading them), or a pure gameplay and non-rpish account.

Mods loaded : Diplomacy merged with Pike & Blade. Better Banner's Mod. Arena Overhaul mod. The mod that introduces all those historic castles and stuff as well.

I think I'm going to have fun writing this. If you have a mind to read it, don't be afraid to tell me what you think, good or bad.

Daughters of War: Confessional of a Sword Sister​

Forgive me, oh Father, for I have sinned.

My testimony must draw first from the start of my journey, the Vale of Devukrad, to the south and East of Calradia. My former home lies between the Eastern Khergit steppes, and the dry plains and blasted deserts of the south, which are peopled by cousins of Sarranids and Khergits alike. My own people had our own culture, nestled in a fertile flood plain between these deserts. As one would imagine, given the lack of natural barriers, we were never without conflict with neighbors. Wars were no less frequent there than they are in Calradia.

Although almost all warriors were men, our society was ruled by a series of Matriarchs. Women too learned to fight, but weren't required to serve the military, being needed more for the survival of the breed by bearing children, and administrating our City-state in the absence of the men.

For me, I was born of a privileged merchant house, that just before my departure was on the very cusp of breaking into the Council of Devukrad. My mother, Arundali, was a fourth daughter to the Matriarch herself, who'd borne me by the attentions of a master of the horse, Karolus. They'd soon married, although much of their time was spent apart, as my mother was a practicing merchant, and taught me herself much of that trade.

My life was charmed, until clouds formed in the west, and rumors of foreign armies coming to despoil our lands reached us. Apparently the birds came to us too late. Within weeks we were set upon by a horde of Calradian raiders. They even had the gall to fly their banners as they laid waste to the outlying villages, attempting to weaken our infrastructure. Unfortunately, I had no word of what became of the Vale itself, as my misfortune found me before those of the Council. My mother, along with my father and I, traveled an old route, bearing dried fish, pottery and linen, with the intention of selling them in Tulga. A great lord belonging to the Sultanate accosted us on the road, asking us where our colors had provenance, and laughing at the response. Before my father had a moment to reaction, a javelin was thrown, peircing his lamellar vest. He couldn't have died so quickly, but fell from his horse from either shock or paralyzation. I heard a scream, that of my mother as I went to hide myself beneath the wagon. I don't know what exactly happened from there, but after the sounds of battle between our caravan guards and the lord's hardened warriors, I emerged to find the men stripped of their belongings, left to rot in the sun. My mother and father were left with them, mutilated, their scalps taken, bear flesh left to the flies. I choked on sobs as I tried my best to bury them beneath piles of rocks. I didn't have time to do the same for the guards and what few Sarranids had fallen, not with the threat looming of further harassment by so-called nobles, or even brigands.

There were some few of our goods left in the wagon, which I stowed away in the saddlebags of my father's injured hunter. The beast was well enough to make the rest of the journey to Tulga, and so I went.

Two days of careful travelling took me to the gates of the town, upon which I looked with some trepidation.

The people here had a strange look and manners, and gave me odd looks as they went about their business. Thankfully, I was able to communicate my need to leave the horse at the stable to the master of horse. I checked my bags one last time, and then saw what I could make of this strange land.

 

[Nikolai II]

Good enough.
Welcome to the forums.

 

[CatKnight]

Excellent start!

 

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My first order of business, was to appropriate attire that wasn't covered in blood and stained by travel. My father's old mail chausses were riddled with rust marks and chinks, and I could do naught but improve by replacing them, if only with hardened leather boots. I found a man hawking wares that ranged from metal armors and maille, to the products of a tanner's profession. From him, I was able to trade the contents leftover from my parents' caravan for suitable protective wear.

Second order, to talk to the townspeople and see if they knew anything of the nobleman who had waylaid our caravan. They were reluctant to share much, but I did glean this piece of information...

Perhaps it was a lead, although the man's title was not Sarranid, perhaps if I ran across him in my travels I would chance to speak with him.

Next, I went to the local Inn and Tavern to see if I could set up with the borders for a few nights, and perhaps find better refreshment than the dried fish that rested in my kit.

The scene was busy in the tavern, but one man in particular caught my eye. He had the look of a Sarranid, but not one to judge one by what I've seen of another, I went to his table and gave him a short curtsey, "Ser. I wonder if I might have a seat at your table?"

Far from the attitude I'd received from those outside, he flashed a quick smile after licking his lips, and flourished with his arms to indicate that I should take the stool next to him. Wondering at his sudden friendliness, I took a seat across from him.

 

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He took a seat himself after me, and gave me a strange but not unfriendly look. For a few moments, he was silent, then looked away. "Forgive me my silence, milady. To look on such grace and beauty will surely strike me blind were I to prolong this moment." He then looked up at me with what he must've thought was a winning smile. "I am called Nizar of the sands. Serpent of the dry south. Nizar the Moonblade. I'm quite famous in these lands, perhaps you have heard of me?"

I could tell I'd have my hands full with him from then on. Clearly there was too much to him, but something about his exaggerated sense of confidence endeared Nizar to me. "Apologies, ser, but I've heard very little of 'Nizar the Moonblade'. For myself, I'm not of Calradia, a place where I'm called Ilpa Gravant."

"Ah!" His face and posture perked up all at once, a finger pointed toward the ceiling, "This place must surely be a heaven among heavens, to produce such a creature, and then cry forever more for she to become lost from it."

I shut my eyes momentarily, to hide the fact that I was rolling them. Nevertheless, I was mollified by this attention, having never met a man so bold yet courteous. The place I come from, men know not to presume much when meeting with a woman, where they are respected as heads of state and households, and not as mere objects, as they surely must be from whence Nizar hails.

"No different from any woman you've met, I'm sure," I began, opening my eyes to fix him in a hard stare, "I come from the land, a vale between the steppes and desert..."

Nizar, perhaps taking the cue, relaxed his tone a touch, and interjected, "Paradise, between the wildlings of the steppes, and the swords of the desert. Such verse is fit for song, milady. Surely our meeting..."

"I must stop you there, Nizar, though I'm sure you'll forgive me." My eyes hardened, but truthfully I was still amused by this fellow. I should have stood up and gone to another table, knowing what I do now, but nobody else was jumping to aid me in my acclimation to this new land. One cannot chose their friends when they're in a position to beg. I was only grateful that Nizar didn't allow me to do such a thing. More the fool of me. "I'm looking for a guide in this land. I don't know exactly where I'm going. I'm beginning to think that to return home isn't possible, so I will have to stay here for the moment. I need a guide..."

Nizar's hand extended, "I would follow you from one shore to the next, Milady, at free of charge!"

I smiled at him, though it was not a friendly one. Being raised among merchants and taught the tricks of the bargain, I knew for myself that there was no such deal as was given 'free of charge'. Payment only was delayed, to be stipulated and defined later, at the seller's discretion. I couldn't have it, and thanks to what supplies I scavenged from the caravan and denars leftover, I wouldn't have to. "I will pay you three hundred denars, plus a share of whatever spoils we take if we are unfortunate enough to encounter enemy swords. This is a dangerous land, as I take it?"

For the first time in that meeting, Nizar's smile faded, and then vanished. "Yes, too much so for a lonely maid. Three hundred denars is a good offer, and the share suits me as well. I swear, you will find no finer swordsman and boon companion than I will be." His smile made a small comeback. I returned the gesture, and then told him to make ready for our departure. Then I arranged for accomodations at the Inn. Separately, of course...

 

[bubell]

Very good start. Nizar will, eventually, be impressed with your bravery, just don't let him in your bed. lol

 

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Thanks for watching, reading and commenting, all

We made ready to depart from Tulga the next morning. I was putting the bridle on my mare, when I heard someone leaving from the Tavern. Nizar had a small smile on his face as he stepped lightly from the door. His face brightened when he saw me by the stables. "Good morning, Nizar."

"And to you, Divinity." He bowed extravagantly, sweeping his arm under his chest while the other was raised behind him. I tightened the steed's harness, turning my face toward the work to hide the redness of my face. I didn't want him to misunderstand, afterall, given his temperament. As he came closer, I could smell the company of painted women on him, spiced perfume, liquor, and sweat. My mouth tightened, which in retrospect couldn't have helped much with the blushing.

“You had best get your horse ready. I'd like for us to be moving out before the morning dew dries.” Which, I should have known even then, was a poor choice of words in the company of Nizar.

Nizar didn't take the opening, but gave a secret laugh while a devilish gleam shone in his eyes, “Indeed!”

Shrugging, I led my horse out of its pen and climbed onto the saddle. For the first time since and ever afterward, I saw something resembling apprehension on Nizar's face. When I asked him what was the matter, he confessed that he'd mislaid his horse elsewhere in the city. Upon pressing him further, he confessed that it was stabled at a rival adventurer's estate, and he was in something of a hurry to flee. Returning to the estate to retrieve his courser was out of the question.

I sighed, “So be it. You would ride with me then, if we're to make speed.” He glanced strangely at me as I offered him my hand, but eventually shrugged and climbed onto the back of my father's mare. His arms were wiring their way across my belly before I elbowed him. “None of that, Ser. Worry not, I ride well.” To which he muttered something inaudible. Hence we made our way out of Tulga and into open country.

From there Nizar was as respectful as he ever was capable of being, and began sharing advice on how to proceed. I hadn't thought much to what my plans are, and though he asked about my motivations, I responded as politely as possible that I'd prefer to keep them to myself, for the time being. Neverminding that, he pointed out that we were few in number, if a hostile party decided to attack us. So we picked up some tribesmen from nearby encampments, and our herd of horses (or süreg aduu as the Khergits say) to around ten horses, excluding Nizar. The spoils of war kept our coffers growing, and we'd even picked up a useable desert steed for Nizar to ride. When at last we returned to Tulga, we parted ways, he to what he called the 'bird cages', and I to the tavern. With all this running around after renegades, I had received the notion of hiring a tracker, to better facilitate our manhunting.

As luck had it, I found someone who seemed to meet the description. Far better than that, she was also a woman. I hailed her where she sat, and gave her my best greeting before she halted me with a gesture. “Deshavi is my name. Oh and keep your distance.”

“Er... I'm sorry?” My face twisted in confusion. Upon which she explained to me that she was something of a bad luck charm, and went on to list the atrocious events that led her to this city. Although to hear all of that one might think her weak or self-critical, she was nothing of the sort. A woman of iron from the skin, sinews to the bone,. And as I would learn, a faithful companion. She did confess a modest degree of skill in hunting and pathfinding, and joined my company without taking so much as a finder's fee. “Glad to have found you, however, there's another in my company who might be a little too overjoyed at another female presence.” I smiled with apprehension, and warned her against the advances and person of Nizar, asking that she hold off on shooting him on her first day.

We three left with the süreg the next morning. On our way across the country, we battled various groups of ragtag brigands. From the last battle until nightfall, I received a wound by a khergit mace. I would have fallen to the ground at the blow, had Deshavi not come to my rescue while keeping the attackers at bay with her staff.

When the battle was over and our side victorious, camp was established to tend the wounded. Deshavi and I had a talk by the fire then, while the men saw to our süreg.

We chatted amiably for a while. The solemn woman even made me laugh at one point, at which I clutched the mighty bruise on my side.

“You're wounded?” She asked.

“A mere bruise.” When I showed her the bruise, she winced painfully.

“Too close to the kidney. How did that happen?”

I gave her a quick recount of the battle, at which she smiled grimly, “You know, your hair is much too long to be riding into battle. A man need only grab the hair and pull it back to give you a red smile or a caved in skull. You should think about shear it, Captain.”

My hands reached up toward my locks, frowning as I fingered the braids, “I never considered that.”

“You had best, Captain. Not only will it give your enemy one less hold to take, some may mistake you for a man, which can be both good and bad, depending.”

I took her advice. The following morning, I used my nomad blade to cut the locks down a bare two inches from my scalp. When Nizar saw me, I almost believed that he shed true tears to see my hair shorn. Deshavi and I merely laughed, and the company moved on.

 

[jonlucero]

Wow. Ilpa Gravant is quite a character. Very entertaining. Wondering how fortunes favor her after the tragic loss of her home and family. So far she's been doing great, finding Nizar and then another woman companion. I'm expecting she won't have too many pitfalls from now on.

The writing is pretty good too, sub'd.

 

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Thanks for the compliment. There's still much to write. I played ahead of myself.

We marched our süreg across the dry steppes. I'd only been in these lands for two weeks or more after losing my family, but already made two new companions with whom I established a fine süreg aduu. The horses were in good health, food and water in enough supply. We had our battles with brigands impetuous enough to attack a band of fifteen horse, but these became easier for me as I learned to swing a weapon. Nizar's self-professed attraction for me seemed to decline in the week after I sheared my hair and looked less at me with that familiar look with every battle. I didn't care enough to ask him why exactly, but was happy for the space this provided us in between battles. At the week's end, we set up camp just southeast of Ichamur, near the chilly border of the Vaegir Kingdom. I sat myself beside Deshavi and Nizar at one of our cookfires, along with two other tribesmen.

For all our shared blood through the battles, defeats and victories, I would have thought myself faithless if I didn't now let them know more about myself at that point. There was no expectation on my part that they would reciprocate. It was simply that I needed to get the burden of those first days in Calradia out of my heart. They listened well, Nizar twirling his mustache pensively while Deshavi sat there with her usual focus and cold patience. Finally, when I came to the part where we all had assembled, Nizar gave a quick nod, and a small bit of applause. “Condolences Ilpa Khonichin.” Nizar bowed his head, his words echoed by a few others assembled. The title appended to my name there is of Khergit origin, roughly translating to flock-mistress. He may as well of said Captain, but Nizar was nothing if not a poet, which you, as a man of letters yourself, may know isn't far removed from a linguist.

“My main concern now, is how I go about this mission to discover the Emir's identity. Let alone the fact that I'm far from equipped to battle him openly.”

Deshavi was first to speak, “You need to find support with the people of the realm. Show them that you're not simply willing to raise levies, but use those levies to fight with and for them. They will repay you in droves.”

I nodded at her, then turned to Nizar, who was uncharacteristically reticent. I hadn't noticed he was staring at me until I looked him in the eyes. “Indeed, where would we be without our mighty tribesmen to ride alongside us. However, the right lies with the nobility in this land. They alone hold the right to bear arms, and confer that right to those of lower birth.” He raised his hands in apology to the tribesmen gathered around. “And more often, you'll find the lords pay in denars rather than in good will. If nothing else, this will give you the means to then run along on such tasks for the village elders.”

I nodded, then gave myself a few moments to digest the approaches. It seemed these paths, working for the lords of the Khanate as well as its peoples were entwined and interdependant. And so, “Very well, we'll see if these villages need help with anything, and go to the fortress I see on the southeast Horizon, atop that mountain passage. That is a Khergit pennant, is it not?”

Nizar looked into the distance, squinting. “By the shape of it, yes.”

“Very well, we'll make for it tomorrow, then see if we can't find work with the Noyans.” So saying, I rose from the cookfire and made for one of the makeshift yurts the men of our süreg had constructed. Deshavi and a few other tribesmen joined us, sharing watches.

On the next morning we all made ready to march. A few hours after we'd packed up the last of the yurts, Noyans and their retainers were spotted riding from the mountain pass. As courteously and discretely as a group of twenty-five can be, we hailed the first lord to cross our path. I rode ahead to parley. Tonju Noyan was courteous enough, and by what he said couldn't tell if he identified my gender. When I asked him about a job, he made mention of hiring mercenaries, at which I politely declined, and asked what else he might have for us. He did have one problem around his city, a group of steppe bandits had set up near Ichamur. Seek and destroy, basically. With our direction established, we began courting the villages surrounding that city. Our süreg traveled many miles around Ichamur before we received a task from a village elder. The herd in Bulugur had been depleted and driven away by rustlers Seven heads in thirty days. It didn't sound like much, but Deshavi assured me that it was beyond my means, given how few denars remained in our purse.

So we proceeded to screen the area around Ichamur. Deshavi was helpful in pointing out the most likely place for them to set up, a steppe to which one needed to travel at least ten miles before rounding the cliff face and up the incline. She more or less led Nizar and I up through the wooded area, leaving the süreg and many men behind to cover our approach. The fates smiled on us as we entered a clearing, where a small herd of saddlehorses were tied and left. Their hides were covered by multiple brands to show they'd been stolen once or twice, and whiplashes. Their legs were quivering from exhaustion. Feeling pity for the poor beasts, and seeing an opportunity to cut out the chance of a mounted counterattack by any survivors of our attack, we cut their bounds and chased them off, back toward our own süreg.

We made the approach to their camp, spotting their cookfires from well away. Deshavi climbed to the top of the defile, to mark any stragglers. Nizar went with her at my signal, while the rest of the force, a band of warriors now quite capable in their own right, accompanied me. The wretched robbers were for the most part dozing, many of them unarmed and without armor. Those who did carry their weapons were too absorbed in the scent of burnt horse flesh to take much notice of the pair of shadows crossing over the high steppe, or the soft but noisesome footfalls of mail clad warriors. The proceeding violence was hard to account for. In the sudden elevation of battle cries and flight of javelins, I could just barely account for the motions of my sword arm. I held it aloft, a battered shield covering my midsection, poised for a strike from the outside. The first to accost me was a half-naked barbarian, wielding a heavy cleaving sword. His arm crossed his body, as if to backhand me. My sword came down on him then, simultaneously deflecting his own blow while slicing into the flesh between his left shoulder and neck. In an instant, his left arm went limp, as if paralyzed. I kicked him back before he could counter attack, and drew a vertical slash across his neck. He fell dead.

I have noted, in being the Khonichin of a predominantly Khergit warband, that my contributions to the battles have been of little consequence when compared to my fellow warriors. In a tourney and in duels, when the matches have been roughly even, I often taste victory to the plaintive cries of my opponents. But on a battlefield, I'm far overshadowed by the speed with which these Khergits deal death. Even worse, they do so on faster mounts, from a distance, with no formation or sense of group cohesion whatsoever. Their warfare was explicitly designed for battlefield skirmishes.

As it stands now, I have fought with armies comprised of mixed troops, such as the Vaegirs, and the footmen of the Nords. Yet in none of those armies, have I felt the same bond with my fellow warriors as I do with the Khergits. In no other warband, is there such a degree of adaptive synchronicity, or needing each other, or working together on a moment. In many battles I have seen this in progress, a pattern forming. The lancer rescues the archer, only to have his own pursuers dispatched at a distance by another horseman holding a quiver of war darts. And always on the move, looking for another brother or sister who can be helped. I've visited the courts of the northern lands and western, where my Khergits are dubbed barbaric, callous, ugly. The hypocrisy of man is all-consuming. There's little of moment I could say other than that, lest I start throwing stones at my own foot.

If my diatribe is anything to go by, you would guess the attack was easily successful. So it was. And a bounty was had at the expense of whoever they'd robbed. But nevermind that. We'd have the money necessary to fill Bulugur's cattle fields. So the deed was reported to Tonju Noyan. We were rewarded even more richly than the spoils we'd earned, to the tune of fifteen hundred denars.

 

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For a time, after we made good on our promise to the elder of the village, we decided to test our süreg against the Northern lands. The same routine was performed, this time on a hideout of the sea raiders. They were better equipped to fight when unhorsed, yet still unprepared as Deshavi rained arrows on them and our swords battered against their mail. Meriga, who didn't seem to notice I was a woman anymore than Tonju did, was discourteous at first, but warmed considerably when I reported the demise of his bandits. We then conducted a complimentary extermination of roving bands of the raiders, making off with a good bounty in equipment, which was doled out to my companions in turn.

With a small fortune amassed in our war chest, we turned our focus back toward the lands of the Khergits.

The Khanate was at war with the Sarranids at the time. For me, I saw this as an opportunity to gather information about my unknown enemy, and the kingdom he belonged to. After almost a week of travel, we return to Tulga, greater in sinew and in number than when we left her. For myself, I make for the court of Tulga while my companions amused themselves with whatever diversions the city offered.

A modest number of Noyan and the Khan himself are assembled at the hall. As is proper, I kneeled before crossing the threshold, then stepped slowly into the room, tracing the periphery of my vision and trying to find someone who was willing to meet eyes with me. One of the Noyans standing by the table. Beside him stood a well-dressed woman, possibly his lady. I knelt, not too low, to each of them in turn, and then met eyes with the man.

For the first time, a noble lord recognized me as a woman, and greeted me with all chivalric deference he is capable of. I was mollified. Some small talk was had between he, his lady and I, until I came to the matter of the war.

This news did not greet me well. If the war ended, I would not be as well positioned to take the battle to them. In a fit of impetuousity, I dropped to one knee, bowing my head.

“Good Noyan, I lead a süreg of mercenaries.” I swept my arm beneath me as I bowed, “I wonder how I might be of some service to you and your kin in this conflict?”

I lifted my head from the gesture, to see Urubay Noyan's brows arch. Seemingly embarrassed, but far from disarmed, he motioned his hand to bid me rise. He proceeded on to nod and explain his situation.

Immediately, and I admit without very much thought, I accept the terms of employment continuing with him to discuss our tactics. At this point his lady excuses herself from our company, and went to mingle with the other wives of Noyans. After she left, Urubay made a suggestion to me of befriending nearby villages, who could then create a diversion to draw the garrison, weakening it. I bowed again, not so low as before, and promise to see his father freed from chains.

I didn't want to waste any time before hitting the trail to cross into Sarranid territory. One of my best scouts was waiting outside the castle gates. To him I bid collect our companions post haste, or at the very least give them directions to our destination if they couldn't avail themselves at that time. Within two hours, most of our süreg had assembled outside the gates. We couldn't afford to wait for the rest, but I was assured they'd find their way.

We rode at a trot until deep into the night. Finally, all exhausted, we set up camp in the shadow of the mountain overlooking the eastern appraoch to a mountain pass into Sarranid lands. In the distance, we could see the sandstone walls of our destination, and a small village beneath it. The positioning was perfect, and I felt more than confident that if I befriended those village folk, it wouldn't be difficult to assure success.

Deshavi and Nizar joined me in the head yurt, to discuss our tactics. “Well it seems there are two approaches we can make here. One, we can enlist the aid of villagers to create a distraction drawing the garrison. Or two we could proceed directly to the fortress, and hope my swordarm doesn't fail against the gaoler. On the one hand, we have greater chance of success. On the other, there stands a chance that the war will end, and Alagur Noyan will be freed without any interference from us. I did receive word from Urubay that Sanjar Khan was on the verge of suing for peace...”

“We must act quickly, Khonichin.” Nizar spoke quickly. “As you say, it's all or nothing. We cannot bank on the possibility that these villagers will even want something from us, enough to reciprocate by conspiring against their own landlords.”

“Deshavi?” I turned to our head scout.

“I wouldn't pass up any opportunity to raise the goodwill of smallfolk. I think you know where I stand on that, and it's on the way to the Castle itself. Who knows what we'll find if we call on them?”

I nodded. As usual I withheld my judgement until it was necessary to reveal.

Exhausted for our long travels, we slept through the morning into noon, then upon waking made ready for the ride to the base of the pass, beyond which the village of Mazigh . Deshavi went ahead of us before the süreg got a move on. An hour later, she returned to us with a thin smile on her lips. “Mountain bandits in Mazigh. What are we to do, Khonichin?”

A token question, to which we replied by doubling the pace of the süreg. We arrived there just past sundown. The mountain bandits, unhorsed as they were on relatively flat terrain, were easily wiped out, to the raucous cheers and professions of adoration from the villagers themselves. It seemed our hopes were answered then. Now, knowing Calradia and her ways better, I should've known otherwise. Stormclouds gathered on the Eastern horizon, it seemed, which turned to thundering of many hooves upon the sands and the elevation of so much dust that could mean only one thing, Khergits on the move.

I could do aught else but intercept the force with what few men dared get in the way. The Noyan at the head of their charge reined his steed in, and fixed his eyes on me with a hard stare. “What's this? Who dares intercept an agent of the Khan?”

“I humbly do, Noyan. Ilpa Gravant of Devukrad. I'm on an errand on behalf of Urubay Noyan, who requires the assistance of these villagers. Could you not be pursuaded to turn your force elsewhere?”

“Away with you wench, no requests out of you. Stand aside or be trampled along with the rest of the rabble.” Nizar had galloped to my side at that point, and laid a hand on my arm to brace me, and lead me away. I could only close my eyes to the dust that was kicked up in the ensuing chaos. When all was said and done, those in my süreg were all accounted for, but the village was looted and plundered mercilessly by that hard-nosed Noyan. For the first time since losing my parents, I wept. Yet on we rode, to Jameyyed.

 

[bubell]

Dare I say, spectacular.