The Most Fortunate Khatun

Bo Jing led a triumphant but weary, slow march back to Banua. Alert as always, but relaxed, he let his horse choose its pace, with the others following. The air was fresh with the hint of coming spring.

Towards evening, the party noticed the glow of campfires among a large cluster of yurts. Approaching, they heard singing and laughter and smiled at each other, wondering if the people of the Bolad horde knew what good reason they had to celebrate. Zhang was wary but Batzorig urged his companions onwards. “I know the song they are singing from my earliest days. These are not howling beastmen, but good people, enjoying their birthright. And with our news, we will be most welcome surprise guests!”

But it was the guests who were most surprised. The feast was sumptuous, the music unending, the hosts most richly arrayed and the guests fully expected. The high host was a man in bright green clothes. He accompanied the musicians on a fiddle, danced with all the women, and joked with all the men. He was the King of the East. This feast was to celebrate his daughter Narantsetseg and perhaps to honor Bo-Jing as his son-in-law?

Bo-Jing married Narantsetseg and the feast continued over several nights and days. Each night, the King of the East asked one of Bo-Jing’s companions to re-tell the story of how they had come to the lands of the Cradle of Humanity (“that is the old name of what you call the Valley of Fires, four, five, six, how many fires?”) and their campaign against the Beastmen and defeat of their evil leader. And one evening, when he was talking to Bo-Jing next to a low fire, he asked, “I think you have something that belongs to me?”

And so Bo-Jing gave up another of the four coins, this time to one whose face matched that of the coin and the King responded with deep gratitude. “You have shown me that you are brave, honorable, and generous. All who meet you will see this in your face.”

The King restored Narantsetseg’s hearing and gave his blessing to Batzorig, thanking him for his kindness as her elder brother, and forgiving him for any unfortunate incidents along the way. He gave gifts of gold, fine new clothes and a suit of armor for Bo-Jing’s flying steed.

And so the heroes returned to Banua, coming from a feast instead of a battle. The attacks on the city had ended, and scouting parties had found no signs of bestmen for several days. And so the people of Banua, accepted Bo-Jing’s good news with satisfaction and also prepared to celebrate. There were several days of joyful gatherings, but the songs were bittersweet for the losses had been great.

Gaansukh opened the palace and set Bo-Jing upon his council chair. He was ready to retire. He had done his best to protect his people, but his failures were many and the rain of forgiveness does not fall inside a palace. He would go with a few of his closest advisors to the shrine at Sum Sakhius.

The people would select their Khan, but Bo-Jing had loved them as a tax collector, he had re-united the Naran horde, he had defeated their enemy. “Do you know I was once suspicious of you? But you are a man of bravery, honor, and generosity. And now I see it on your very face!”

And so the people of Bolad and Nergui, reunited as the Naran horde, called on Bo-Jing to be their Khan. The Emperor summoned Bo-Jing to Khanbaliq to recognize his khanship. He asked Bo-Jing to pledge his loyalty and named him protector of the Barrier Peaks. As long as Bo-Jing and the Naran would protect the Empire’s border, they would pay no Imperial taxes.

The Most Unfortunate Khatun: Part 3

Bo-Jing was an expert tracker, and the beastmen who had taken Narantsetseg made little effort to conceal their passage. For three days the companions and their warbands followed them northward, until the trail entered a dense, swampy thicket at the northern edge of the Naran horde's domain, where the lands of the recently reunited Bolad and Nergui hordes gave way to wilderness.

It was a place ill suited to an army. Thorny hedges tore at clothing and flesh, the mud stank of decay, and a thick reddish mist hung over the stagnant ground. The allied horsemen could go no farther. Bo-Jing and Tetsukichi therefore left the warbands behind to secure their retreat and entered the thicket with together with the powerful sorcerers Bangqiu, Hyamsam, and Salt and a small company of trusted companions. Salt, the young shaman whose magical powers had already grown considerably, was accompanied by Nekhil, her bodyguard, always ready to stand between the shaman and enemies who came too close. Mustapha, one of Tetsukichi's trusted retainers and a skilled illusionist, also joined the company.

The swampy thicket resisted them at every turn. They fought several small bands of beastmen before finally reaching its fetid heart. There they discovered the purpose for which Narantsetseg had been taken.

More than a hundred beastmen and other corrupted creatures crowded around a clearing. At its center Narantsetseg lay chained upon a black altar. Above her stood the Beast Master, one of the Master's lieutenants who had led the siege against Banua, dressed in black robes and holding a ritual knife above her body. Three witches chanted beside him. Around them the beastmen took up the chant until the entire thicket seemed to pulse with their voices.

Behind the altar stood a grotesque blue-black image of a horned demon, glowing faintly from within. Above it all, thick clouds have been drawn into the rite: clouds twisted into a vast blood-red vortex, while the reddish vapor rose ever thicker from the swamp.

The companions remained concealed at the edge of the clearing and quickly devised a plan. Bangqiu and the others rendered Bo-Jing and Tetsukichi invisible. Mustapha then conjured the appearance of a large attacking force emerging from the opposite side of the thicket.

The deception worked. Scores of beastmen rushed away from the altar to meet enemies who did not exist, while Bo-Jing's retainers sent arrows into their confused ranks. Yet the Beast Master and his witches did not abandon the ceremony. Their chanting continued.

Invisible, Bo-Jing crossed the clearing and struck the Beast Master without warning, wounding him grievously. Tetsukichi appeared beside him and held the three witches at bay while Bo-Jing pressed his attack. Even under the flashing strokes of Bo-Jing's swords, the Beast Master struggled desperately to continue the rite.

He received little aid from his witches. Salt, Bangqiu, and Hyamsam unleashed their magic upon them from the edge of the clearing. When two of the witches fell, Tetsukichi turned from the last of them and joined Bo-Jing against the Beast Master. Caught between two of the finest swordsmen of their generation, the Master's lieutenant finally fell beneath a flurry of blows.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then something happened that none of the companions understood.

A green-golden wind swept suddenly across the thicket. The blood-red clouds tore apart above them. The foul mist vanished. Wherever the wind passed, the beastmen and the other creatures gathered for the sacrifice disappeared in a blinding flash of fire, leaving neither pursuit nor battle behind them.

Bo-Jing remembered little of what followed. When his senses returned, the red sky was gone, the thicket had fallen strangely quiet, and Narantsetseg's chains no longer bound her.

She was alive.

And somehow, he found her safe in his arms.

The Most Unfortunate Khatun Part 2 - Naransetseng's decision

The following day, Bo-Jing, Tetsukichi, Salt, and Bangqiu met with the surviving leaders of the Eagle Clan and learned the full measure of the disaster that had befallen their people. During the Master's invasion, a large war band of beastmen, accompanied by giants, had broken away from the main host to ravage the Eagle lands. They stormed the clan's ancestral hall, slew the khan and many of his household, and drove the survivors into exile. Though the stronghold itself held little military value, it had become the center from which the raiders continued to terrorize the surrounding countryside.

The companions concluded that they could not safely continue toward Khanbaliq while such a threat remained at their backs. Together with the Eagle Clan, they devised a plan. The combined horsemen of the Bolad Horde, the Sansar Horde, and the Eagle Clan would protect one another while a small company of trusted warriors infiltrated the occupied hall, struck down its leaders, and freed whatever captives could still be saved. Naransetseng remained with her brother Batzorig under the protection of the allied camp.

Guided by Eagle Clan scouts, the companions reached the occupied stronghold without raising the alarm. They silently dispatched the sentries at the gate before slipping deeper into the hall. Concealed by magic, Bangqiu and Bo-Jing entered the great feast hall, where the giants celebrated amid the plunder of the Eagle lands. There Bo-Jing employed the Coin of the East to sow confusion among their enemies while Bangqiu imprisoned the gathering within a ring of fire. As the giants turned upon one another in panic and rage, Tetsukichi led the remaining warriors in a swift assault that shattered their resistance.

The companions then pressed into the council chamber, where the giant chieftain and his captains were making plans for further raids. Once again, deception, sorcery, and disciplined swordsmanship proved decisive. Before the night had ended, the chieftain lay dead, his household destroyed, and the dungeons beneath the hall had been opened. Several dozen prisoners, long believed lost, were restored to freedom.

Believing the danger past, the companions escorted the rescued captives to safety and made camp a short distance from the ruined hall. At first light they rejoined the Eagle Clan, expecting to celebrate a hard-won victory.

Instead they found tragedy.

Two nights after the companions had departed on their assault, the allied camp had been discovered by one of the Master's sinister flying deer. 

Before dawn, hundreds of beastmen descended upon the camp. Batzorig and the warriors of the Bolad Horde prepared to die defending Naransetseng, but she refused to purchase her own safety with the lives of others. While the fighting raged around her brother's tent, she slipped away unnoticed and surrendered herself to the beastmen.

Batzorig, grievously wounded after holding the attackers at bay, believed only that the enemy had suddenly abandoned the assault. He staggered into his tent and collapsed from exhaustion. Only with the coming of morning did he discover that Naransetseng was gone, and understand the terrible choice she had made.

The Most Unfortunate Khatun Part 1 - A Daring Plan

When Bo-Jing and his war band returned to Banua, the battle had settled into an uneasy stalemate. Dead beastmen and other monsters littered the ground before the walls, but the defenders were nearing exhaustion. The archers had almost spent their last arrows, and the surviving attackers searched for ways to climb the walls and overwhelm the catwalks.

Though weary from their long ride, Bo-Jing and his companions immediately joined the defense. Charging through the gates in tight formation, they relieved the exhausted archers and methodically drove the remaining monsters from the settlement.

Bangqiu and Naransetseng reached Banua later that same day. Having crossed the mountains, they spent one final night at a small stupa outside the settlement before entering the city. Naransetseng was warmly welcomed by Ganbaatar, brother to her late husband and Khan of the Bolad Horde, and by Bo-Jing, who once again returned to her the necklace that had so recently been recovered. She accepted it with joy, grateful for his gesture of quiet heroism.

The celebration proved short-lived. By the following morning, Ganbaatar spoke the truth that everyone already understood. Whatever obligations family might impose, his first duty was to the people of Banua. With the Master's armies pressing ever closer, the Bolad Horde could not risk its survival to protect a woman who no longer belonged to its people. Naransetseng would be granted three days' refuge in Banua and might be required to depart even sooner should the beastmen return.

At the time, neither the companions nor the khans understood why the Master's servants pursued Naransetseng with such determination. They knew only that wherever she fled, the beastmen followed.

Those anxious days were brightened by the arrival of Tetsukichi, a renowned warrior of the Sansar Horde. Faithful allies of the Eagle Clan, sixty Sansar horsemen had answered the Eagle Clan's desperate call for aid. Tetsukichi himself was already a trusted companion of Bo-Jing and Bangqiu, having fought beside them in many adventures, including recent victories against the Master's advancing armies.

Together they reached a bold conclusion. The surest way to defend both the Valley of the Five Fires and the northern khans was to force the Empire itself to confront the Master. If Naransetseng were escorted toward Khanbaliq and the beastmen pursued her into the settled lands, the Emperor could no longer leave the burden of the war to his frontier vassals. And if the Master’s incursions weakened the Emperor, Bo-Jing opined that it would be a punishment not completely undeserved considering the institutions of slavery and concubinage that flourished within the Empire.

Bo-Jing and Tetsukichi therefore departed Banua with their companions at the head of two hundred mounted warriors: one hundred and forty riders of the Bolad Horde joined by sixty horsemen of the Sansar Horde. Their road to Khanbaliq led first through the neighboring lands of the Eagle Clan.

There they found devastation surpassing even that suffered by Banua. Dead men and beasts lay where they had fallen. Scores of bodies had been hung from trees or splayed upon the rocks as grisly warnings. For leagues the forests had been felled, and the scrublands burned bare. On the second evening of their march, bitter winds sweeping down from the mountains forced the company to make camp in the shelter of a shallow valley.

There, for the first time, the companions began to question whether escorting Naransetseng to Khanbaliq remained their foremost duty. If the Eagle Clan had truly been broken, pressing onward might preserve one woman while abandoning an entire people—and perhaps the Valley of the Five Fires itself—to the Master's advance.

Siege of Banua Day 4: Bangqiu rescues Naransetseg

It was easy to follow the fresh tracks of the Nergui refugees. It was also easy to note the fresher tracks of a huge number of beastmen. These tracks stayed with those of the refugees, an ominous confirmation of Bo-Jing’s theory that Naransetseg was still alive and still being pursued.

Seeing no other way to reach the Nergui refugees before the beastmen did, Bangqiu took the form of a falcon and soared into the sky.

Bangqiu quickly pulled away from Bo-Jing, Batzorig, Nar-Nuteng, Ryu, and the rest of the war band. Before long he had reached the horde of beastmen, which had half-encircled the Nergui encampment.

There was no fighting.

Instead, a group of wizened men wearing red caps and wielding long, barbed swords were parlaying with a number of Nergui warriors. Naransetseg was clearly the chief point of negotiation. She stood alone on a small mound, eyes darting and hands twitching, at once terrified and terrifying, like a small animal ready to fight for its life.

The Nergui spearmen surrounding her—at a distance—were guarding her in both senses of the word, protecting her while preventing her escape.

Bangqiu soared higher into the sky until he was directly above Naransetseg. Then he resumed human form, using his enchanted levitation boots to break the impact his free fall. He gave her a secret sign to persuade her that he meant no harm. Then he swept her up, cloaked them both in a thick cloud, and used his boots to carry them back into the gloomy sky.

Enraged, the beastmen attacked the Nergui spearmen and refugees.

That evening and deep into the night, Bangqiu summoned all his natural athleticism simply to hold onto Naransetseg while his boots kept them suspended high in the thin air. Naransetseg clung tightly to him with her arms and legs, her tears mixing with the stinging rain on both their faces.

Below them came the terrible sounds of battle and slaughter.

A steady wind from the east carried them toward the mountains guarding the Valley of the Five Fires. When Bangqiu was certain they were far from the battle and the marauding beastmen, he lowered them toward a grassy mountain slope.

Reaching solid ground, they collapsed into exhausted sleep.

By the time Bo-Jing and the war band reached the remains of the Nergui camp, the few survivors they encountered were too traumatized to explain much of what had happened. The “deaf witch” had disappeared, and the beastmen had taken vengeance by killing everyone they could before scattering to the four winds.

Batzorig searched among the survivors for any word of his sister, but none could tell him what had become of her.

Bo-Jing thanked the survivors and urged them to return with him to Banua. Many had little desire to return to the town they had so recently fled, but Bo-Jing promised them his personal protection and convinced a number of them to come with him.

As Bo-Jing would learn later, one of the four winds brought a group of beastmen, yeti, and fanged flying stags north to Banua.

They attacked in a series of poorly organized, desperate raids.

Ganbaatar invited all noncombatants to take refuge within the inner walls. Archers lined the outer walls and targeted the beastmen as they charged through the broken gate.

The beastmen destroyed property and killed animals, but found few human victims in the outer town. Nor could they reach the inner town.

Although the gates had been destroyed by the giant demon-badger during the siege, the pit it had created was nearly impassable. A line of brave warriors armed with spears waited on the far side, turning the ruined gateway into a death trap for the attacking beastmen and yeti.

Most dangerous to Banua were the flying stags. They simply passed over the ruined defenses and descended from the sky.

Fortunately for Banua, Ganbaatar had one defender he had not counted upon.

From whatever shadows had lately occupied him, the mercurial magician Hyamsam emerged to defend his adopted home.

Magic missiles streaked into the flying monsters.

A ball of fire exploded among them.

Then Hyamsam engulfed another group in a cloud of scalding steam.

Several of the flying beasts fell dead into Banua.

The rest fled.

By the time Bo-Jing had returned to the battered city, Banua had survived yet another assault.

And somewhere in the mountains overlooking the Valley of the Five Fires, Bangqiu and Naransetseg slept exhausted on the wet grass, separated from their companions and unaware of what their escape had set in motion.

Siege of Banua Day 3

Banua After the Siege

As later recounted in the Chronicles of the Northern Frontier

Bo-Jing rose early, his breath misting in the cold air as he stood atop the ramparts of shattered Banua. The fires had been stamped out, the beasts driven off. Victory, of a kind, had been won.

The warriors of the Bolad horde honored him with raised voices and lifted blades. They had seen him stand against horrors not born of nature — war machines vomiting flame, beastmen with the eyes of demons. Under his command, they had not broken. His companions, strangers just weeks ago, had shielded the innocent, destroyed siege weapons, and carved paths through the worst of the enemy.

But even as those cheers echoed in the narrow alleys, another sound rose — bitter, sharp, and raw. Grief.

It came from the Nergui.

They had buried their best beneath the rubble. Fathers, sons, daughters. The elders said they had been lured here, promised protection — and instead corralled into a slaughterhouse. Bo-Jing met their words with reason. You came of your own choice, he reminded them. But truth, in that hour, was no salve. Only salt in the wound.

And so the Nergui answered not with words, but with action.
“If we are to die,” they said, “we will die standing — not as shields for Ganbaatar and the Bolad.”

They did not speak again. They simply packed what was left: battered tools, limping beasts, orphans in tow. They left their dead where they fell, to be buried by the Bolad.
And then, they turned not west — not home. But southeast. Toward the lands of the Eagle Horde.

All save one.

Batzorig, son of Nergui, stood by the gate and watched them go. He did not weep. But he did not hide the tremble in his hands.

When they were gone, he turned to the ruins. His sister, Naransetseng, had been in Banua. She had not walked out with the others. No body had been claimed for burial. Her ger had burned.

He searched the rubble with Bo-Jing beside him, neither speaking much. Salt stood nearby, head bowed. Even Bangqiu — ever aloof — seemed touched by the loss. It was Bo-Jing who found it, beneath the blackened remains of the ger wall: Naransetseng’s necklace, unbroken, untouched by flame.

Batzorig fell to his knees. Clutched it like it might still be warm from her skin.

Bo-Jing looked to the smoke curling toward the eastern sky.

“She was not killed here,” he said. “I think she fled. Cast the necklace as a decoy. The beasts did not attack Banua — they passed it by. They’re still hunting her.”

Batzorig lifted his head, eyes red with dust and hope.
“Then I go after her,” he said. “Alone, if I must. Or with all the brave men who love what is beautiful and good.”

Bo-Jing clasped his arm. “You won’t go alone.”

And by dusk, the host rode out again. One hundred warriors, led by Bo-Jing, Bangqiu, Nar-Nuteng, and a man with hope clenched in his fist like a blade — chasing smoke trails and the memory of a woman who might still be alive.

Siege of Banua Day 2

At dawn, watchers on Banua’s towers saw the enemy encampments stirring. Beastmen began withdrawing, marching westward toward a long ridge. Despite their rout the night before, they still outnumbered the defenders three to one. Strangely quiet and efficient in their movements, they no longer resembled an undisciplined horde. It was as if an alien intelligence had assumed command.

Sensing deception, Bangqiu and Salt cloaked themselves in invisibility and set off to scout. Skirting around yetis scavenging the battlefield, the two magicians crept to the ridge’s crest—where they beheld a disturbing sight: the beastmen were clustered around a deep pit, excavating with inhuman speed. Lines of them marched out carrying dirt. Something was tunneling toward Banua—fast.

Among the monstrous laborers stood a solitary human in black armor. Without hesitation, Bangqiu and Salt unleashed a barrage of magic missiles, driving him into his tent. To compound the chaos, Bangqiu summoned a stone wall and dropped it across the mouth of the tunnel. Then, taking the form of an owl, he flew back to Banua. Salt, cloaked and cautious, made her way back on foot.

That night, few slept. Red flashes lit the sky. The ground trembled. Rumors raced: the well water tasted wrong. People heard screams beyond the ridge.

Before dawn, watchmen saw movement: beastmen advancing again—this time with giants and juggernauts.

Ganbaatar organized the defense. Armed soldiers manned the battlements. Citizens were herded into the inner barracks.

Then, the earth split.

Right beneath the inner gate, a colossal claw burst through the ground, ripping stone and earth apart. The gate crumbled. Up rose a monstrous, red-eyed badger—taller than two men, its snout dripping with hunger. It lunged. A slash of its claws cleaved a soldier in half. Its jaws snapped a horse’s spine.

Soldiers fled. The beast pursued, killing, devouring.

Then came Bo-Jing. With him stood his henchmen, also Nar-Nuteng, and all of the bravest warriors of Banua. Long spears drove into the beast’s flanks. Arrows peppered its back. At first, it seemed unstoppable. But a spear found its underbelly. It halted. Bo-Jing leapt forward, slashing deep into its face. Nar-Nuteng struck beneath its foreleg. Surrounded and bleeding from every side, the beast collapsed—its death shaking the earth again.

But chaos reigned.

Beastmen had scattered into Banua, setting fires, slaying unarmed townsfolk, killing livestock. The juggernauts arrived next—three immense engines of war—rolling toward the outer gate. With the city’s defenders drawn inward, the gates fell. The juggernauts rolled into Banua.

But the magicians were ready.

Bangqiu, Hyamsam, and Salt struck the wheels of the lead juggernaut with fireballs and magic missiles. Flames erupted. The behemoth veered, tumbling into the pit torn open by the badger. The others crashed in behind.

Still, the beastmen pressed toward the marketplace—toward the tents of the Nergui refugees. Arrows rained down from the rooftops, but the monsters moved from tent to tent, slaughtering the defenseless.

Then Bo-Jing and Nar-Nuteng returned.

Rallying Banua’s remaining warriors, they charged. This time, the beastmen broke. Driven into a corner of the marketplace, they were caught, surrounded, and destroyed.