Following the Battle of Horncurl Hill, Tugun Khagan seemed quite satisfied with the impression his forces had made upon his foreign guests, and rightly so. Having displayed the capability of Kharal cavalry in war, he no longer had any interest in us and dismissed the expedition from his company. In truth, it might well have been better for the Kharal that these events never occurred. Erun Nassah, having seen the steppe riders in combat, soon became obsessed with finding ways for imperial forces to counter their capabilities. He spent much of his time during the remainder of the winter consulting with every Nikkad warrior and independent mercenary he could find in Inukudish and produced a treatise compiling his findings and offering no less than twelve different potential strategies to allow the armies of the Sanid Empire to compete with the Kharal in desert and steppe combat. Though this work was never fully completed, Erun continued to add to it subsequently and his draft notes were eventually presented to the Emperor and the Imperial Guard. An anti-horse archery formation called the Falcon's Broken Wing was ultimately developed based upon these observations.

Upon our departure from his company the Khagan did not offer an escort. He simply stated that the stamp he'd provided authorized unmolested travel through the territory of Sunshtasgus. While this offered no protection from bandits, it was a sufficiently generous grant that Erun dared not press for more. The steppe warlord did, additionally, provide mundane gifts that loaded up our bags with food and provided jewels easily sold to secure provisions at a later time. Tugun Khagan did add one admonishment, that if the expedition did successfully locate or subdue the dragon, he was to be notified immediately. This warning was, I believe, given in good faith. The Kharal make little use of complex mystical arts, relying on the simplified knowledge of their shamans instead, and their general lack of interest in the dragon seemed to be genuine. It is possible that rather than attempting to seize the prize from the expedition, as many other surely would have done, Tugun Khagan truly would have authorized an escort across his lands in return for a generous gift from the Emperor. He seemed, against all expectation, to be a generally jovial sort of ruler.

We were not accosted by man or beast on the return to Inukudish, but the weather turned against us halfway there and we were obligated to take refuge against the howling winds and bitter cold for three days as in the whiteout blast it was impossible to see more than a few steps forward. A small Kharal clan whose shields were emblazoned with a black shrike symbol kindly acted to shelter us during this interval. They made space in their tents for a handful of travelers easily. As such, this represents an appropriate point to speak of the life found inside those round felt-walled tents.

To begin, it is essential to consider the yurt itself. At its core each one is a round tent with a sloped, shallow, conical cap centered around a smoke-release hole. There is only a single entrance, which is always placed facing southeast, in the opposite direction of the prevailing winds. A framework of poles and an expandable support lattice forms the core of the tent, rather like the skeletal veins of a leaf. Thick blankets of felt are draped over this base to form an overlapping cover, with a minimum of two layers. There are usually different types of felt blanket used in combination, varied in thickness, with additional layers used in winter compared to summer. Ropes are used to tie these coverings in place and hold open the ceiling hole. Each yurt has a door frame formed of wood and, when possible, a wooden door, though the poorest families may lack this feature and will hang felt screens instead. These doors are prized possessions, often kept for many generations. They are always bright and elaborately painted, usually in bird motifs. During the summer these doors are displayed openly, but in the winter will be covered with a rug or blanket to seal warmth within.

The Kharal greatly prefer to erect their yurts above bare ground. This is easily obtained by allowing camels and goats to graze a circular area down to essentially nothing. They then place down blankets, or carpets if they can afford them, to fully coat the interior save for the small stove or firepit kept in the center. Rich families have treasured stoves of iron or bronze, while the poor make do with hybrid structures combining metal plates, ceramics, and bricks. Each family generally possesses a single large pot, which is used both to heat water and for cooking atop the little stove. In addition to blankets, cushions, spare clothing, and furs will be used for additional warmth. Yurts contain all the tools necessary for life on the steppe, carefully stored in light racks made using rope or leather. These include looms, sharpening stones, fletching gear, and the various knives, staves, and bags used in the production of cheese and yogurt. Pets, including hunting birds, cats, and the small dogs kept by some Kharal matrons, will be allowed to move about in the yurt, but they are kept carefully removed from food storage. These animals tend to be very well trained, with even the normally uncontrollable cats remarkably well-behaved. I suspect recalcitrant animals do not last long.

During summer, when the felt blankets are thin and light, yurts can be quite bright and spacious, but during the winter they inevitably feel quite dark even during the height of day. The stove gives off little light, and such candles or rushlights as a family might utilize are lit sparingly. They also tend to be rather smoky and filled with the scent of animal flesh due to the materials utilized to produce light and heat. Despite this shortcoming, they are very warm within, and even though the wind howled and even the briefest trip outdoors, such as the necessary journeys to relieve oneself, left the body frigid and shivering, it was possible to move about inside in light clothing.

Of course, even in winter the Kharal are a people of the steppe and spend much of their time outdoors. Animals must be guided to forage, dung collected and dried, water broken free from ice, and more. Such daily necessary tasks are undertaken mostly by children and old men, as the combat age men generally spend much of the winter on campaign fighting and hunting. Women aided in these duties, watching the herds kept close by the yurts, caring for infirm livestock, and cleaning clothing. Much of their time was otherwise spent in food preparation and clothing maintenance.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Of special note is the task of felt production. This is done mostly in early and late winter, on bright sunny days when the temperature rises above freezing, such that water flows freely. This is a multi-step process that will require the combined and coordinated efforts of an entire clan's women and several men on horseback. The fleece is beaten, then layered together using first water and then milk. After this the felt is gathered together and rolled behind the horses attached to a broad pole. This is done for a considerable distance at surprisingly high speeds. Once removed from the roll, the felt is straightened, stretched, cut, and sewn before it is ready as a finished product. It is not uncommon for whole tribes to roll great quantities of felt during late autumn and them process the result clan by clan throughout the core of the winter. Each step in processing is a communal task and is done in time to long-developed songs, which are sung deep in the throat but are apparently wordless. Felt is the principle textile of the steppe and is used to make yurts, robes, boots, hats, blankets, and numerous other less common commodities. It is conserved as much as possible, with worn out pieces torn apart and then sent through the process again. The result is usable but less fine, and each piece may proceed through a lengthy cycle 'from boots to blankets' in Kharal parlance.

Wordless songs and poetic invocations are a constant part of both felt production and any number of other significant and time-consuming tasks such as butchering, weaving, and the production of yogurt and jerky. These lengthy poems sound nearly nonsensical in translation, and I quickly abandoned any attempt to compile a record of such, but they contain within them embedded instructions for the task at hand, while the wordless humming guides the timing associated with various actions. This is a suitable method to teach steps and timing to essential duties among a people who almost completely lack any writing. Complex and throaty chants, many with interlaced harmonies that switch from male to female singers at rapid interchanges, are a common art among the Kharal, with impromptu contests and exhibitions an everyday affair. Unless they are on the hunt, these people are hardly ever silent. Intriguingly, for such a martial people, their music focuses little on military exploits, but instead exalts hunting, herding, riding long distances, or other everyday tasks. A legendary figure, the heroic messenger Dukumugush, features in many of the classic Kharal oral tales. In one notable tale that I heard often enough to properly grasp its meaning, he mounts upon a Lightning Falcon and out rides the coming of the dawn itself to bring an apology from Nakiet to Tippipaku lest the fury of the Lady of the Earth set the world to shake and burn. The falcon's lightning leaves the messenger severely burned, but his efforts succeed. A curious tale, and one not meant to be taken literally. Rather, it serves as a demonstration of the values of dedication, loyalty, and swiftness among these people.

Faith, among the Kharal, is not expressed in their chants, poems, or dances, but is found out among the herds or in the heart of the yurt. Prayers are offered three times each day, though the order varies from that found in the Sanid Empire. The Kharal pray to the Lady of the Earth at dawn, thanking her for warmth and forage. They invoke the Lord of the Sky to shelter their flocks and sustain the grass at midday. A logical reversal, given the lives of herders compared to those who till the soil. The passage prayer acknowledging the Lord of Death is offered in the night, of course. The morning and evening prayers are generally made within the yurt, using small tetrahedral shrines kept by each family, all members gathered around tightly. Noble or rich families who own falcons will always keep these birds in sight of the shrine, most commonly perched directly behind, as they consider the birds sacred witnesses and their prayers include verses to this effect. The midday prayer is generally said outside, usually spoken in series by a working group stranding in a loose triangle. This is most commonly done prior to the midday meal during a brief pause in the march.

Morning and midday meals are generally eaten either alone, or shared between members of a working group. The evening meal is considered the most important social event of the day and whenever possible families eat together. In winter this is common as herds are kept close in to the yurts for safety and warmth and only a few guards are needed. This meal is liable to be the only food of the day properly heated, though Kharal herding out in the field will make small cookfires to boil water and butter for tea and to soften jerky or cheese when the opportunity arises. The evening meal is most often stew, cooked in thick broth, with vegetables added somewhat clandestinely as they are a significant portion of the diet but not considered prestigious. Meat is usually mutton, though the Kharal will consume almost any available flesh, and as animals are more likely to perish in the winter months it is not uncommon for horse, camel, ox, donkey, or goat meat to make its way into the stew pot. Small amounts of harvested grain, mostly types of barley or millet that grow wild near the streams, may be added. More often, vegetables consist of the bulbs of a type of garlic or onion or the roots of dandelions. Dining is a simple affair. There are no tables and everyone sits on rugs or cushions. The Kharal use bowls only, not bothering with plates, and eat using spoons or sometimes meat directly off their knives. Any leftover scraps will be given to the dogs and the dishes are boiled afterwards to clean them.

Sleeping arrangements are simple, with everyone clustered around the central stove. Privacy, if desired, is achieved in a limited fashion using curtains. This is not especially effective, and the Kharal are not very amorous in winter when their families are gathered together in the confines of the yurts. Options are rather more open in summer, with the whole of the steppe available.