Grular Invaders - Freeband

Multitudes of Grular roam the world in pursuit of adventure, plunder and battle. Young Grular are raised on stories of legendary Grular freebands and their adventures. Oral histories and lessons are passed through sagas to those who dream of the chance to follow in their heroes footsteps. Joining a freeband is the primary path for Grular to rise above their birth and earn a greater place among Grular society. To the Grular, to roam the world is the chance at glory and glory is the reason for living. Leadership of a freeband is usually the right of a Kor-khan and they are most often the ones to receive the call of their Khan. Freebands are the ideal opportunity for a Kor-Khan to demonstrate their leadership and prowess in battle stoking their reputation among the clans and Khans. Renowned Kor-Khans and their freebands can be hired between clans to increase the wealth and fame of their lords and people. Competition for a place among the more famous freebands serving at the side of the most notorious Kor-Khans is often a life or death selection process. It is therefore of little wonder that Grular freebands can be found ranging far and wide throughout Faelon.
Faction Assembly Rule: May not have more Demon Heroes than non-Demon Heroes. May have a third Marauder and/or Impaler if 251+ base cost. A Grular freeband containing any non-Marauder Cavalry models may not include any Demon models except Gadarl.
Flank March. In a freeband led by the Kor-Khan, the Grular player may keep one Cavalry model off table at deployment. In the Movement Phase of any turn, the model may arrive from any table edge.

Parent Organization

The Supreme Khanate of Grular

Related Professions

• Bludgeoneer
• Impaler
• Impaler (dismounted)
• Kor-Khan
• Kor-Khan (Mounted)
• Krang
• Lifetaker
• Marauder
• Marauder (dismounted)
• Pain Bringer
• Raider
• Raider (dismounted)
• Warlock

Related Ethnicities

• Symker

Related Species
Borgat
Dryad
Karbazaal
Karyad
Mokruhl
Plakhra
Skethar
Skrot
Ventarx
Vineling
Zakerlash
Zarfonax

LEADERS

Kor-Khan (Leader)

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SPD	MAR	MW	RAR	RW	DEF	AV	LP	DISC	SPECIAL	COST
6	d12	Spikedrakh d8 Deadly Morning Star d8 Shieldbreaker	*	*	4	5	3	d12	Leader, Parry[1], Taunt	39

Kor-Khan (Mounted Leader)

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SPD	MAR	MW	RAR	RW	DEF	AV	LP	DISC	SPECIAL	COST
9	d12	Spikedrakh d8 Deadly Morning Star d8 Shieldbreaker	*	*	4	5	3	d12	Leader, Parry[1], Taunt, Cavalry, Fast	43

CASTERS

Warlock (Caster)

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SPD	MAR	MW	RAR	RW	DEF	AV	LP	DISC	SPECIAL	COST
7	d6	Shadowspear d8 Summoner	*	*	4	2	2	d8	CAR [Shadow Magic] d10, 15 Power, Fear Craver , STR d4	31

Warlock (Mounted Caster)

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SPD	MAR	MW	RAR	RW	DEF	AV	LP	DISC	SPECIAL	COST
10	d7	Shadowspear d8 Summoner	*	*	4	2	2	d9	CAR [Shadow Magic] d10, 15 Power, Fear Craver , STR d4, Cavalry, Fast	35

Shadow Magic

Shadow Magic is spirit magic. This is the Freeblades spell list for the Warlock (Caster) and Warlock (Mounted Caster).

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Power Cost	Spell Name	Effect	Duration
(1)	Choke	d8 damage ranged attack. Those hit by this attack pass an END test or are -2dl DISC. Missile Spell.	I
(1)	Curse	Target is -2dl MAR or RAR, your choice	C
(2)	Intimidate	Target may not be Charged.	C
(1)	Nightmare	Target becomes Reluctant.	C
(2)	Prey of Uhltarx	Target is -3 SPD.	C
(2)	Shadowmind	Target unengaged enemy takes a SPR test 6 and if it fails, immediately makes all of its melee attack(s) against itself. None of the target's abilities may be applied to the attack, just its MAR, MW, DEF and AV.	I
(3)	Soul Rip	Target model takes a SPR test 4. Pass with a TH 2: No effect. Pass: Model is placed 6" away using the rules for Scatter. Fail: Model is placed 6" away using the rules for Scatter and it loses 1 LP. Target stops at Impassable terrain, table edges, and friends or 1” from any enemy or engaged model. May be cast on an engaged model, and the movement of the target does not trigger a reaction attack.	I
(3)	Summon Zakerlash	A Zakerlash Creature is placed within 6" of Caster and at least 6" from any enemy. Spell is Target Number 4 to cast.	C
(1)	Twisted Image	Target becomes Fearsome.	C

Zakerlash

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SPD	MAR	MW	DEF	AV	LP	DISC	SPECIAL
5	d10	Fist d10	4	6	2	d4	Fearsome, Bonecrusher, Tireless, Mountaineer, Summoned, Demon

Mokruhl

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SPD	MAR	MW	RAR	RW	DEF	AV	LP	DISC	SPECIAL	COST
7	d10	Claw d8+1	*	*	4	4	2	d8	CAR [Shadow Sorcery [Mokruhl]] d8, 10 power, Wraith [2], Float, Demon, SPR d12, STR d10	40

Shadow Sorcery [Mokruhl]

Shadow Sorcery is sorcery magic. This is the Freeblades spell list for the Mokruhl.

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Power Cost	Spell Name	Effect	Duration
(2)	Blur	All attacks against target are -1dl.	C
(1)	Choke	d8 damage ranged attack. Those hit by this attack pass an END test or are -2dl DISC. Missile Spell.	I
(1)	Cloak	Target friend gains a Stealth Token.	I
(2)	Gloom	The conditions of Gloom exist within 12” of you, including during and after any of your movement.	C
(1)	Illusionary Blades	Melee attacks by the target cannot be Parried or Dodged unless the model attempting to Parry or Dodge passes a KNW test 7 for each Parry or Dodge attempt.	C
(1)	Leader's Voice	Target gains the Sergeant [follower type] talent. The target gains +1dl DISC for any Fear or Morale tests it or models using its DISC are required to take.	C
(2)	Misdirection	Ready, unengaged target may make a 3” Free Move.	C
(2)	Prey of Uhltarx	Target is -3 SPD.	C
(2)	Shadowmind	Target unengaged enemy takes a SPR test 6 and if it fails, immediately makes all of its melee attack(s) against itself. None of the target's abilities may be applied to the attack, just its MAR, MW, DEF and AV.	C

HEROES

Marauder

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SPD	MAR	MW	RAR	RW	DEF	AV	LP	DISC	SPECIAL	COST
10	d8	Morning Star d8 Shieldbreaker	d10	Comp Bow d8 10"-20"-30"	4	4	2	d8	Cavalry, Light Cavalry, Scout, Harasser, Fast	29

Marauder (Dismounted)

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SPD	MAR	MW	RAR	RW	DEF	AV	LP	DISC	SPECIAL	COST
6	d10	Morning Star d8 Shieldbreaker	d10	Comp Bow d8 10"-20"-30"	5	4	2	d8	Scout, Harasser, Elusive[1], Dodge [1], AGL d10	29

Impaler

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SPD	MAR	MW	RAR	RW	DEF	AV	LP	DISC	SPECIAL	COST
10	d10	Impaler d8+1 Impact	*	*	6s	4	2	d10	Assault , Hit and Run, Nimble [1], Cavalry, Fast, AGL d10	32

Impaler (Dismounted)

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SPD	MAR	MW	RAR	RW	DEF	AV	LP	DISC	SPECIAL	COST
6	d10	Impaler d8+1 Impact	*	*	6s	4	2	d10	Assault , Backstep, Dodge [1], AGL d10	27

Gadarl

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SPD	MAR	MW	RAR	RW	DEF	AV	LP	DISC	SPECIAL	COST
7	d10	any	d8	any	5	3	2	d10	Weapon Morph, Disguise, Demon, Dodge[1], AGL d10, SPR d10	27

Skethar

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SPD	MAR	MW	RAR	RW	DEF	AV	LP	DISC	SPECIAL	COST
7	d10	2 x Claws d8	*	*	5	3	2	d8	Chameleon, Stealth d8, Demon, Parry [2], AGL d10, SPR d10	34

Ventarx

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SPD	MAR	MW	RAR	RW	DEF	AV	LP	DISC	SPECIAL	COST
5	d10	2 x Claws d8	*	*	5	3	2	d8	Fly Low [SPD X] [SPD 10], Hit and Run,Nimble [2], Scout, AGL d10, SPR d10, Demon	36

Saryad

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SPD	MAR	MW	RAR	RW	DEF	AV	LP	DISC	SPECIAL	COST
7	d10	Claw d8	d10	Thorny Vines d6Entangle, Thrown 3"-6"-9"	5	3	2	d10	Dodge [2], Beguile [d12], Disguise, Sergeant [Dryad], AGL d12, SPR d12, Arboreal, Demon	41

FOLLOWERS

Bludgeoneer

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SPD	MAR	MW	RAR	RW	DEF	AV	LP	DISC	SPECIAL	COST
7	d8	Flail d10 Shieldbreaker	*	*	4	3	1	d4	*	11

Krang

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SPD	MAR	MW	RAR	RW	DEF	AV	LP	DISC	SPECIAL	COST
7	d6	Spikedrakh d8 Deadly, Morning Star d8 Shieldbreaker	*	*	5an	3	1	d6	Flurry, Wild Charge	13

Lifetaker

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SPD	MAR	MW	RAR	RW	DEF	AV	LP	DISC	SPECIAL	COST
7	d6	Dagger d4	d6	Bow d6 8"-16"-24"	4	3	1	d6	Ambush	12

Raider

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SPD	MAR	MW	RAR	RW	DEF	AV	LP	DISC	SPECIAL	COST
10	d6	Javelin d6	d6	Javelin d6 Thrown 4"-8"-12"	5s	3	1	d6	Cavalry, Light Cavalry, Elusive [1], Harasser, Fast	18

Raider (Dismounted)

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SPD	MAR	MW	RAR	RW	DEF	AV	LP	DISC	SPECIAL	COST
7	d6	Javelin d6	d6	Javelin d6 Thrown 4"-8"-12"	5s	3	1	d6	Elusive [1], Harasser	14

Dryad

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SPD	MAR	MW	RAR	RW	DEF	AV	LP	DISC	SPECIAL	COST
7	d8	Claw d8	d8	Thorny Vines d8 Entangle, Thrown 3"-6"-9"	5	3	1	d6	Dodge[1], Beguile[d10], Disguise, Arboreal, Demon, AGL d10, SPR d10	28

The Last Inn on the Long Road The weary traveler rested in a dark corner of the inn. He’d ventured this far north and west a few times during his travels through the Khanate of Grular, but could not recall the name of the place. The rattle of the shutters beneath the assault of the keening wind and icy rain beat an unsettling staccato rhythm. The whole building seemed to sway a little with every gust. Traveller’s Lament, that’s what this place should be called. No wonder he was the only patron.
A curl of smoke trailed up from his pipe. He’d picked up the habit on the road, in Thormenal maybe?He downed another swig of fholyag, another habit drawn from travel. The brown fermented root drink cut a burning trail down his throat next to the tobacco, easing his mind, despite the harsh night and the sense that something was not quite right.
An old stooped greybeard, more weather-beaten than the inn, limped around behind the bar. The codger puttered with a greasy rag and grimy wooden cups. A knotted mass of wrinkles masked any expression that might grace the wind-scoured face bunched beneath his bald head and single black, bushy eyebrow. A stained burlap apron hung threadbare from his scrawny neck down to his rough goatskin shoes.
Across the room a dim smoldering fireplace gave off an occasional breath of heat. Smooth boulders piled erratically atop each other formed an arch over a sooty black pit, filled with ash nearly to the rim. The flames struggled, fed by too little wood and too much dung. The odor was unpleasant, but brought with it the faint warmth, making it tolerable. The sputtering firelight twitched the room’s shadows in a jerking dance.
A girl huddled on the hearth, wrapped in a ragged cloak, patches sewn over patches beyond count. Only a few dirty brown tufts of fur clung to the lining, and she shivered more than she sat still. Dirt caked the mouse brown hair that hung over uneven features. Greenish snot dribbled from her nose and hung above her lip until wiped onto her crusted sleeve. Red-rimmed eyes sticky with yellow pus peeled openslowly with each blink. He doubted even the most desperate man would approach her for anything more than a drink.
The silence was shattered when the front door slammed open, yielding to rain, wind, and two men. They shut the door, then stomped their muddy boots. From the look of the pair, they’d come down fromthe hills to the west. Both wore thick coats of grey mountain goat skin, suggesting they hailed from Varkraal. Each carried a bow, unstrung due to the weather, and a quiver of arrows. Unadorned andwell- worn hilts of weapons poked out from beneath their furs. Hard dark eyes scanned the room above thick scarves. As they walked to a table near the fireplace, they unwound the wrappings and paused to study him. He nodded politely in return. The men removed their cloaks, revealing that the hilts topped narrow, curved scimitars, and hung them on a row of pegs beside the fireplace. Chairs scraped more grooves in the battered floorboards. One man sat facing him and the door, while the other watched the barman and girl.
One of the strangers spoke Symkish with a western accent. “Girl! Bring us two large hot arraghs quick.”
The sniffling girl shuffled to the bar and snatched two plain, round wooden cups then shuffled backto the fire. She used the edge of her cloak to lift a kettle resting in the coals and pour out two servings of a steaming thick ivory liquid, which she then delivered to the men. They wrapped hands around the cups and inhaled deeply of the rich aroma. Through all of this, they never stopped scanning the room,
The Varkraalan who had ordered the drink spoke to the barman, “We settled our horses in the stable.”
Broken crooked teeth appeared between knotted lips as the old coot grunted understanding. The Varkraalans had two more cups of arragh in the same time as the traveler finished his own drink and placed his cup upside down on the table. He put his feet up on the stool next to him and settled deeper into his furs, for all appearances drifting into a nap. Hushed whispers from the two newcomers hissed between the gusts that continued to barrage the inn.
The door crashed open again as another visitor stepped dripping into the inn. A thick cloak of purewhite bear fur hung on the newcomer’s shoulders. It looked warm, and the wet streamed off of it, puddling onto the floor. The visitor’s boots looked to be made of the same material. Just as with the firsttwo,a heavy scarf concealed all but the man’s eyes. Likewise, he also bore a bow and quiver, but instead of a scimitar, he carried a long speartipped with a wicked-looking wedge-shaped blade.The spear carrier surveyed the room, noted each occupant, then moved to the table of Varkraalans. After a whispered exchange, one of the seated men rose and left the inn. The spear carrier availedhimself of the vacant seat, lowered his spear to the floor, and took a drink from the orphaned cup of steaming arragh. Quiet returned.
This time when the door reopened, three men entered. The first was the man who had left moments before. Behind him came two more goatskin-clad figures. Each bore a bow and quiver like the others. As they swept back their hoods and opened their cloaks, they revealed long knives strapped to their belts. A muddy track had formed at the doorway and a wet trail led over to the visitors’ table: Five armed men drinking heavily of arragh. It looked to be a regular Varkraalan party brewing. More drinks were ordered. The men’s hands never strayed far from their weapons, but the party seemed to remain relaxed.
At some unseen prompt, the spear carrier sat up and spun his index finger through the air. The other four sat their drinks down and moved toward the various doors and stairs of the inn. “Inn keeper,” the spear carrier said, “these men are going to search your establishment. Don’t hinder them.” One of the men grunted.
“Ah. Yes. And bring us food.”
The inn was small, so the search took very little time. The men checked the balcony that hung over the common room and searched the guest rooms. Doors opened and closed. Footsteps rapped on theceiling. Apparently satisfied with what they found, or did not find, they returned to their table, each giving an obvious “all clear” sign. When they’d finished off the meager fare the girl had delivered during the search, the spear carrier instructed one of the original two newcomers to fetch their gear from the horses. The man grabbed his cloak, and left through the front door.
“Girl,” the spear carrier called, “bring more food. Twice as much. And more cups. Bring that kettle overhere and start another one. Throw more logs on that fire, as well.”The girl blinked a dozen sticky blinks as she seemed to struggle to remember all of the man’s commands. A snot bubble ballooned below her nose as she shuffled off in compliance, starting with the woodpile on the other side of the fireplace.
A short time later, the door banged open again, bringing the cold watery wind with it. The first man toenter glided smoothly into the room without a scrape of his boots. A pair of hilts thrust up out of his hoodlesswhite bear cloak’s collar, each within easy overhand reach. Light strides carried him over to the bar, where he slid down its length to stand at the corner. From this position, he would have the entire room in view. Next entered a figure leaning on a staff polished so smooth it reflected the firelight on its deep brownwood. A heavy blue and white fabric cloak covered the figure entirely. Even his hands – for it looked to be a man – were covered in fine blue leather gloves. Only a tuft of blonde beard protruding from the dark hood suggested a real person lurked beneath the clothing. Black boots scuffed the floor as the odd figure stamped off the road filth, muttering. This was definitely no Varkraalan mountaineer.
Next through the door came an avalanche. A massive bulk of a man filled the doorway so completelyeven the weather failed to swirl past. The mountain did not pause, but stomped over to the table to join his band. The man who had been sent to the barn followed last, shutting the door quickly.
The Varkraalan leader pulled his massive white cloak off and threw it to one of the bowmen to hang up. A large and very functional-looking scimitar was strapped to the leader’s back. The weapon’s size alone was frightening, but more terrifying yet was that, given the size of his hands, the warrior clearly wielded it one-handed.
Sweat dripped from the girl’s forehead as she fetched drink and food to replenish the quickly emptied platters and cups. The heat from the stoked fire started to push some of the chill from the room. In her second pass around the table the spear carrier ordered a round of fholyag.
The girl wheezed slightly as she brought new cups, unwell and unused as she undoubtedly was to this level of effort. As she came back around with the kettle to serve the blue cloaked fellow, he put his paring knife over the top to block her pour. She paused and tilted her head in apparent puzzlement. She pointed at the pitcher, then at him. His paring knife clattered to the table as his grip relaxed, his hood falling back as his shoulders slumped. The girl’s finger had grown, extending forward into the blue hood. Her flesh-colored hand faded to metallic grey where it disappeared into the man’s eye. She straightened her arm, punching a blade-like appendage through the back of his skull, sending a gush of pulpy red onto the floor. A moment passed as the Varkraalans registered something amiss. In this moment, the girl withdrew her finger and stepped back. She changed. She straightened. Her hair floated around her head becoming long, thick, writhing grey strands. Her body shifted into its true Gadarl form, and she became an only vaguely female mass of ashen grey rope-like sinews wrapped and twisted around each other. She reached back, readying a swing aimed at the next Varkraalan, her right arm forming a large flail as she moved. The barman completed a chant and straightened up, grinning . No longer stooped or mumbling, the codger’s eyes shone bright with gathered energy. Wisps of shadow danced around his head and hands as he finished his ethereal summoning.
The flames in the fireplace briefly flashed from orange and red to brilliant blue and pitch black. The room blinked into a surreal flickering moonlit hue as a bulky silhouette expanded upright from out of the otherworld’s shadowy flames. A blast of numbing cold washed across the room. The flames in the fireplace returned to red and orange heat. Outlined in the glow was a huge figure made of obsidian and shadow. Its eyes glowed amethyst in a demonic grimace that revealed fearsome dagger-sized fangs. Hulking over the nearest Varkraalan, the enormous man-shaped horror raised a faceted fist. Across the room, wood brown chameleon skin rippled to an ashen blue as a creature emerged from its camouflaged hiding place beside the bar. Quick as a snake, it pounced onto the warped bar top, clawed feet tearing the wood as a twisted tail gripped the rusted bar rail for balance. Four arms swung talon-tipped fingers as the Skethar’s razor-toothed maw snapped forward. The smooth Varkraalan at the corner of the bar flinched and a pair of scimitars appeared in his hands.
The ambush churned toward a climax. The traveler had watched his freeband execute the attack perfectly, and now it was his turn to do his part.
Standing easily, he pulled his morningstar from his pack and drew his spikedrakh from behind his chair. The blade slid gracefully forward, recognizable by the abrupt vicious, backward right angle at its tip So armed, he started toward the massive Varkraalan leader, relishing the chance to get in on the fight. To their credit, the Varkraalans rose, weapons drawn, even in the face of such a fearsome onslaught. Two of the Varkraalan bowmen fell, arrows from the balcony piercing their throats.
Excellent! His Lifetakers had fired from their concealed positions on cue.
With a savage grunt, the Varkraalan spear carrier ripped an arrow from his shoulder and thrashed in anger. He howled and leveled his spear at the Gadarl’s ropy form.
“You call that a weapon?” the traveler called to a Varkraalan bowmen as the helpless man waved a knife at the obsidian Zakerlesh. The creature ignored the knife and smashed the man’s head to a pulp. A scimitar fell from the lifeless fingers of a nearby bowman whose skull had been crushed by the Gadarl’s flail arm.
The traveler launched his opening attack.
The huge Varkraalan leader turned to meet the downward swing of the spikedrakh, recognition blooming his eyes. The giant apparently knew the Grular Kor-Khan by sight. Sparks and squeals grated as the two blades slammed together.
Without hesitation, the Kor-khan swung his morningstar in follow-up to the spikedrakh. The Varkraalan moved like lightning and parried a second time. The initiative only briefly remained his. A twist and a slash from the spikedrakh went awry in the gore-muddled footing and cost him the opportunity to use the morning star.
With a furious bellow, the Varkraalan leader took the advantage. The massive warrior dropped all pretense of defense and swung his scimitar in an all-out attack.
A desperate reflex sent the morningstar to block.
The scimitar’s blow glanced off the morningstar, slammed through his leather armor, and cut deep into his side. His vision blurred, and he staggered in pain.
The Varkraalan reversed his weapon and swung for the throat.
The Kor-khan fought to regain his footing, but was unable to recover completely. The scimitar slashed a crimson line across his neck as he leaned away from the razor sharp edge. He swung the Morningstar back-handed, missing the Varkraalan’s shoulder.
The Varkraalan easily parried a low follow-up cut from the spikedrakh, but tripped over a dead bowman as he sidestepped around the table. Initiative returned to the Kor-khan. He swung his spikedrakh and circled the morningstar behind.
The spikedrakh scraped along the scimitar, parried again. The morningstar swept pass the second parry and smacked solidly into the giant’s knee.
The Varkraalan grunted as he slashed with the scimitar in reply. This time the spikedrakh successfully stopped the attack. The Varkraalan whipped the scimitar around, roaring with strength.
The Kor-khan ducked the powerful swing and countered with both weapons. Overcommited to a block on the morningstar, the Varkraalan momentarily acted as though the spikedrakh had missed. With a shout, the Kor-khan pulled the deadly curved tip of the spikedrakh toward himself, hard. Thereversed edge cut cleanly through the giant’s neck. The head fell backward, followed by the body. The crash of the massive corpse as it slammed to the floor brought the inn back to focus.
The fight was over. The Gadarl stood, a brackish liquid oozing from a gash in her shoulder. The Skethar gnawed on a hunk of dripping reddish brown . . . something, though, one of its four arms hung limp. The Lifetakers maintained their vigilance from the balcony. The Zakerlash had departed in an inky, sulfurous cloud.
The Warlock smiled from behind the bar. “Great Kor-khan, it seems the Varkraalan plan to intercept our freeband worked perfectly. For us.”

Ten Paths to Glory Drakkal rolled up the lengthy scroll uttering a curse while shaking his head in amazement. If he hadn’t seen the dead man personally, Drakkal would have thought the scroll recanted some orator’s fable. The scroll itself was part of the proof of the truth it explained. The writing on the parchment had been neat and crisp at the start of its tale. By the end, it had been barely legible; blotched, scrawling and obscured by droplets of dried blood, sweat and other drippings. Dust and dirt further compromised the document and its script. It was evident that the scroll captured the writer’s travels while physically reflecting the man’s deteriorating state. With the scroll, Drakkal’s marauders had found artifacts too disparate to comprehend. Ivory tusks of a great seal of the Glatsha Ashzarsing, the skin of a great ursine of the Glat Shindanar, dried meat from a fish known to only swim in Doxiss Fondtor, the skeleton of a rodent from Kandorax Gruliss, eggshells from a roc from Chonpazax Plakh, a snake molting from the Ashfonax Exarulsha, red sand beetle shells from the southern wastes, horns from the leaping gazelle’s found on the open plains west of Durlashhang Ashsingiss, and an insect carapace from the marsh glades at the mouth of the great southern river. Most remarkable was an ebon pearl from the great southern sea. Drakkal remembered the passage in the scroll that described how the author had climbed to the top of a sheer cliff losing skin, fingernails and blood along the torturous ascent. Two great rocs had harried and clawed the climber until he finally killed them in their nest. Drakkal recalled the man writing sardonically about giving one eye for two eggs. Drakkal also remembered discovering the scroll under the tunic of the one-eyed dead man. The body of the poor soul validated the truth of the scroll.
The scroll told the dead man’s story from his desire to wed his Khan’s daughter, the Khan’s rebuke, and the man’s boast in front of the clan that he’d travel to the ends of the world for her beauty. With derision the Khan accepted the man’s pledge. The Khan charged the suitor with bringing ten things from across the harsh far flung lands of Grular within one cycle of the sun. In exchange the Khan would grant the man’s wish believing it a promise that would never be fulfilled. No man could survive such a trial.
Each of the items came from the most unforgiving terrain in the Khanate of Grular. These godsforsaken places were the harshest lands in Isarshael. Extremes of cold, heat or storm combined with water bare deserts, wind crushed plains, miasmic swamps, staggering mountains or treacherous forests.
The hardiest Grular traveled these lands of necessity or seeking glory or treasure. Weaker men simply died and left their bones to rot. The dead man had travelled them all and done something truly foolhardy and monumental. Drakkal sighed. At least his daughter would be consoled that her suitor had given his life for her in a fashion truly worthy of a Grular hero. Perhaps he’d let her read the scroll as comfort. Thinking beyond his domestic challenge, Drakkal, Khan of Tribe Garbalakah, knew he was honor bound to commemorate the dead suitor’s accomplishment. Drakkal knew exactly how. He would host a greatrace; a race for bold Grular from across the Khanate to repeat the dead man’s sojourn. Drakkal would call the competition Gal Onaf Pa’Zaarl ax Dexon - The Ten Paths to Glory