At the north-western end of the continent lies another nation, the Khanate of Tharun'kai. And in its very centre was its capital.
The heart of the Khanate of Tharun'kai was not a place built for beauty. It was crude and ugly, but very strong.
Massive stone walls rose from the earth like jagged cliffs. Towers crowned with banners overlooked the endless plains beyond, their shadows stretching across courtyards large enough to host entire tribes.
The fortress had little gold and even less decoration. Its pride lay elsewhere.
Mounted upon the walls were the skulls of cursed beasts.
A serpent skull the size of a carriage hung above one gate. The ribs of some forgotten monstrosity arched over a corridor.
Faded banners stained with old blood fluttered beside trophies taken from enemies long dead.
Every stone seemed to proclaim the same message: this nation had survived.
A servant hurried through those ancient halls, his sandals slapping against stone.
