In the eleventh month of the Twelfth Year of Enduring Peace, the Mumsassim Khagan, having faced reversals in his war against Sunshtasgus, sent a war party raised from fifteen tribes comprising nearly seventeen thousand riders under the command of his younger brother Simumsanind to the gates of Summugigus. The Kharal general demanded a massive levy of armor and weapons and further ordered that every mercenary in the city must be dispatched, at the prince’s expense, to fight for the Khagan over the course of the winter.

This was, it must be reckoned, a truly brutal demand, one sure to cripple the commerce of the city for several years, perhaps even a decade. I know the full value of this tribute exactly, for the prince called upon me to translate between himself and General Simumsanind as they negotiated regarding precise sums. Both sides accepted me, as a citizen and representative of the Sanid Empire, as an impartial third party. I made every effort to avoid influencing the negotiations in this capacity and to translate with due accuracy. Following four days of excruciating, lengthy discourse that left my throat parched and voice cracking, the prince agreed to a sum that was perhaps four-fifths of the Khagan’s initial demand.

The prince thereafter returned to his palace, laid the agreement before his court, and was promptly stabbed to death by his younger sister on a charge of cowardice. Blades were draw in the audience chamber and the Nikkad nobles and their servants fell upon each other in a rush. The sister, Dubayim, prevailed and claimed the royal title. She unilaterally rejected the agreement made by her brother and refused to consider attempting a second round of negotiations. Instead, she called out the militia and ordered the city prepared for battle.

I was ordered to take the scroll bearing the rescinded agreement, which was now covered in the former prince’s blood, out of the city to the camp of General Simumsanind. The scroll had been, during the time it was out of my hands, for I had been tasked with recording the agreement in both languages, painted with poison. I believe it was Dubayim’s intention that the poison would afflict one of the General’s bodyguards, and that I would be blamed for this, thereby sowing confusion among the Kharal. To this end, the poison in question was not one of the typical scorpion-derived venoms commonly used by the Nikkad, but instead an imported compound derived from powdered yew bark. By mere happenstance this was a toxin common in the Vale of Rydus and one the dryads had taught me to recognize by scent. As such, I handled the scroll solely by gripping it with my drafting tools and carried it out without escort. One of the Silversheen Mercenaries, who stood vigil near the gate, was kind enough to agree to carry word to the Lady Indili at the chapter house as I stopped there during my departure.

Upon arriving at the general’s camp, I told him the parchment was poisoned and that it should be burned with no one nearby to even breathe in the smoke. Simumsanind, testing my words, had the scroll burned in a small tent with a goat tethered to the brazier. The animal vomited for over an hour and then leaked black blood from the mouth, nose, and eyes before dying in the night. This proof more than satisfied the Kharal warlord. The general thanked me for the honorable warning and swore that he would make good on the late prince’s offer to facilitate my return to the Sanid Empire, just as soon as he’d finished with his khagan’s command. In the same hour as the goat expired in misery, Kharal warriors rode down to the river, captured the piers from the handful of workers who had not evacuated to the city, and burned the docks to the waterline. They then rounded up everyone still outside the walls, mostly a number of charcoal burners, and pressed them into the army’s service as laborers. The siege began in earnest at dawn.

Having previously observed battle between Kharal factions, this siege offered me the chance to observe the nature of conflict between Kharal and Nikkad, a chance that had not occurred previously. I was in little personal danger. General Simumsanind confined me to his camp and appointed an elderly warrior who spoke little to escort me about, but the camp was sufficiently vast that this barely felt like imprisonment. Truthfully the cold, for it had turned brutal by this point in the year, was a far better jailer and greater danger than any weaponry. Yurts, when properly pitched and maintained, remain quite comfortable even in the depths of Shdustu’s winter. Unfortunately, when venturing outdoors such protection vanishes, and warmth flees the limbs swiftly. Such exterior efforts occur quite regularly, especially for soldiers dedicated to the many tasks demanded by warfare. As much as I would have happily remained in the yurt to which I was assigned, composing my notes and consuming the broadly tasteless mutton stew the old soldier cooked each day, I knew this would appear cowardly and so made the effort to walk about the camp daily and spent time observing the siege and speaking to Kharal officers regarding their approach. While partially I hoped to provide the impression that the Sairn are not a weak people, the most important reason for such acts was to ensure that I remained a presence in the mind of the warband and the general, so that he would not forget my existence and the promise he had made.

Though the Kharal are a nomadic people, their long history of conflict with the Nikkad means that they are not unschooled in siegecraft. Though they prefer to enforce their authority through tribute, which provides them wealth with a minimum of effort, they rarely hesitate to press their power when tested. General Simumsanind was, most days, a calm happy warrior given to racing horses across the steppe, he owned prime breeds from many lands including a racehorse imported all the way from the empire he displayed before me with considerable glee, but he took the defiance of Dubayim as a personal affront. Considering that even though she attempted to assassinate him, he still offered to honor the original agreement afterwards only to have his messenger sent back with a string of insults, I cannot blame him in the slightest. He railed against her in fury each night, often riding along the walls daring her to come out and face his warriors in open battle. As the Nikkad were not so foolish as to sortie to their destruction, he declared he would not depart until he had obtained Dubayim’s head and made most thorough plans to secure this prize.

The warband accordingly surrounded the city and placed each gate under constant armed watch. Riders patrolled regular circuits around the city easily overtaking anyone who attempted to climb down the walls and slog through the snow to escape into the wild. Even if they escaped notice, the warband controlled all territory for well over a day’s ride. Several fools made this attempt despite such odds and were duly pressed into work bringing down the walls that had formerly sheltered them. Combined with those found outside the city and formed into a workforce, the warband had a significant amount of conscripted labor in the form of bargemen, caravaneers, and merchants. Corvee labor was also provided by several other Nikkad towns along the river, which had no intention of defying the warband and considered Dubayim’s doom inevitable. These were not enslaved but were guarded by mercenaries.

It was not the general’s intent to starve out the city. It was well-provisioned from the fall harvest, and it was likely that the warband would exhaust grass and game far sooner than the defenders. Nor was the goal a peaceful surrender. Once tribute was refused, humiliation was demanded of those who dared defy the khagan, a price that must be paid in blood.

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To my surprise, the attackers completely ignored the city’s gates. Though these represented natural access points, they were accordingly well-guarded and possessed a complex web of defenses on their interior sides even should they be overcome. Any such assault would favor Nikkad combat methods and cost many lives to little or no gain. Instead, the method of overcoming the walls was perhaps the simplest of all, rendering them irrelevant by building earthen ramps up to match their height. This was undertaken at three points, with imprisoned laborers and captive oxen used to haul the earth, of which the steppe provides an immensely abundant supply. The Kharal warriors facilitated this through their superlative archery, allowing them to fire up at the defenders and preventing them from harassing their workers as the ramps took shape. These also constructed catapults to hurl flaming balls of straw soaked in pitch into the city. Though stone and brick masonry are highly resistant to burning in such cold temperatures, the need to fight fires further dispersed the defenders and sped up the ramp assembly.

A slow process, but one that proceeded steadily through well-organized shift work conducted day and night. Though projectiles launched by the defenders could easily injure, or through the use of deadly Nikkad poisons capable of overcoming the protective blessings of the shamans, kill, screens were put in place to defend the workers and few other counters existed. Lacking any cavalry of their own, the defenders had no means to sortie effectively. They made a single such attempt, shortly following the solstice, but it was observed and brutally crushed beneath a storm of arrows. The wounded who survived merely added to the labor force. The general was quite happy to relax as the ramps rose at a measured pace. He rotated his warriors through their duties, set them to forage widely, and kept weapons and armor in fighting shape. Morale, anticipating the assault to come, remained high. Strangely, it seemed equally high on the opposite side, with Dubayim perhaps believing she could win the street fight inside the city when it finally came.

I do not know much of siegecraft, but measurement and simple arithmetic are counted within my skills, and I had considerable opportunity to take measurements during the siege. The attack strategy used by the Kharal, ramps of earth, would have been forestalled simply by building the walls of the city slightly higher. In this, however, the nature of the steppe favored the attacker. Stone is rare and must be hauled long distances for use in construction at great expense. The walls of the city were built instead of dried brick, with stone used only to reinforce the gates and certain guard towers. Brick walls can be built very thick to resist smashing and undermining, which the Kharal wisely did not attempt, but not high. I believe a mere handful of additional meters would have rendered the ramp-based attack impossible, but such an undertaking would have bankrupted the city. On the steppe, the horse overcomes the mason. This was not difficult to calculate, and though many perished raising the ramps, their progress was not meaningfully halted.

Factionalism among the Nikkad also served to doom the city. The prince of Summugigus nominally commanded the allegiance of numerous towns up and down the river, perhaps upwards of a quarter of a million Nikkad in all, with strength sufficient to relieve the siege of the city should it be exerted, but no armies rallied forth from along the river and the nearest towns supported the siege instead. While even a strong relief force might have struggled to defeat the powerful warband in the field, even a minor distraction to his rear would have required the general to abandon his ramp building and potentially leave the siege as provisions ran out. At the worst, if the ramps had not been completed by the spring flood they would be obliterated by the river. Had the city managed to delay construction long enough their victory would have been certain. This did not occur. Without allies bound to the new prince, no aid came, and the fate of the people of Summugigus was doomed to be decided in battle atop its walls and in its streets.

Inevitably, the assault came to pass. On the sixth day of the third month of the Thirteenth Year of Enduring Peace, General Simumsanind set forth the balance of his strength over the walls in the north and south while simultaneously launching diversionary attacks on all gates. After a brief burst of desperate fighting atop the walls, the riders penetrated the city and all cohesion disintegrated into chaotic street fighting. As is Kharal custom, the general led his troops forward in person. I was left outside, watching from afar. This vantage revealed little save for ever increasing plumes of smoke and the very loud screams of the injured. Kharal warriors exited the city in a steady stream, heading for the tents the shamans had dedicated to healing. Screaming then became a universal symphony throughout the night.

Lady Indili observed that battle in considerably greater detail, staring out a window on the fourth floor of the chapter house tower. The sorcerers spent the whole night in vigil, alert to the possibility that in the fever of battle someone might lose thought for their declared neutrality and attempt to storm their quarters. They surrounded their compound with walls of flame periodically to make the point distinctly, though this proved unnecessary. The battle avoided their portion of the city entirely, focused instead upon the roads leading to the palace.

Bows clashed against knives and darts as the Kharal rode down the narrow streets, and in the alleys spear and blade cut and thrust in desperate fighting. The Nikkad, more comfortable in close quarters combat, possessed advantages in battles of this kind. Had they fought as one they might well have drawn the riders in, trapped them, and executed a bloody obliteration through skill and numbers. But the city, besieged for over one hundred days and controlled by a leader who had seized power through fratricide, lacked all such stability. Each resident, instead, sheltered in the fortified compounds of their patron family or guild and defended the doors, without greater coordination.

General Simumsanind, well-informed of circumstances through prisoners and spies, organized his attack accordingly. He kept his men moving through a narrow conical space, one connected as much as possible to the walls and roads where clear sight-lines and height gave the archers advantage. They pushed forward in steady formation, with only those loyal to the palace rallying to oppose them. Most of the city, including the majority of its fighters, never engaged. Battle raged for most of the day, but the Kharal triumphed shortly after noon when they breached the lines and poured into the main square before the palace. At this point most of the remaining defenders fled, seeking to reach sanctuary in temples or discarding their armor and trying to hide among the populace. The Kharal sacked the palace and surrounding buildings, plundering stores, furniture, and rugs, and anything else they could carry away. The prince was speared in her audience chamber and beheaded. The head was taken to the victorious general, while the body was left atop the dais. The original tributary demand, now imposed upon whoever rose up to claim the city, was nailed to her chest.

The Kharal withdrew by nightfall, carrying out their plunder and wounded. Their loses were not small, especially as poison and injury claimed many in the coming days. A victory, of a sort, and certainly one that drove home the relationship the khagan intended to maintain, but it seemed the sort of war that should please no ruler.