A bloody battlefield... And the results of success.

The dawn sun illuminates the flat terrain south of Fred's Hangar.

The hours-long battle is coming to an end...

The remnants of numerous armed detachments of babilians were **** to retreat.

An unexpected defeat for them - after all, they had almost broken through the fortifications on the southern side of the settlement.

The shootouts were already taking place inside the walls of Fred's Hangar...

But the appearance of two hundred windrider warriors dramatically changed the balance of forces.

Hundreds of bloody corpses lie on the ground among the steppe grasses...

Among these corpses there are few bodies of windriders. Probably no more than a dozen.

Screams and groans of the wounded...

The stench from the stumps of bodies...

And you stand in the midst of all this horror, realizing that you yourself were and remain a part of all this.

You are a participant in a bloody battle that lasts for many hours.

A participant in the battle who was lucky to survive...

A bloody veil of battle rage clouded your consciousness for many hours...

Images of fierce battle still flash before your mind's eye: you fly through the dark sky, giving commands to a dozen of your warriors; your squad among hundreds of other windriders; a swift attack from the sky on numerous enemy units; babilians noticed you too late - shooting from rifles and guns kills only a few windriders; you dodge bullets; your spear flies towards the target, piercing right through the throat of a muscular green-skinned mutant with an iron collar around his neck and a large sledgehammer in his hands; you shoot with a crossbow at several humans who are armed with rifles; flapping wings, powerful evasive turns, bullets flying in your direction; you feel pain due to a superficial minor wound; despite the pain you continue to participate in the battle...

What happened just an hour ago was the largest and bloodiest battle in your life...

But now the battle is over.

You are breathing heavily.

Sweat drips from your forehead.

The muscles in your arms feel very tired and tense.

Blood is oozing from several superficial wounds on your body. You were lucky that you were fast enough and that you managed to maneuver in time in flight. Enemy bullets only grazed your left arm (near the shoulder) and your right thigh.

These are minor injuries.

It is enough to treat the wounds with a healing herbal infusion and bandage these wounds.

You slowly, limping slightly, walk across the battlefield towards the place where the main forces of the windriders are located.

A small field military camp near the walls of the Fred's Hangar settlement.

One of your subordinate warriors helps you treat and bandage your wounds.

While dressing the wounds continues, you look at the corpses lying on the ground.

Lifeless bodies are piled in a heap...

The bodies of the attackers and the bodies of the defenders...

Severed limbs...

Bloody and stinking pieces of meat, which until recently were the bodies of living and sentient creatures.

Bodies with obvious traces of being hit by grenade fragments or with traces of damage from elements of homemade throwing bombs.

You think: “Grenades and homemade throwing bombs... Rare weapons... But they are very effective weapons. Especially when used suddenly and when attacking in flight..."

Now it becomes clear to you why war chief Satlon over the past years has insisted on a thorough exploration of as many ancient ruins as possible.

He wanted to find as many powerful weapons as possible.

For example, grenades...

Satlon has been preparing for war for a long time...

Indeed, grenades and homemade throwing bombs (that were made from parts of old mechanisms and a combustible mixture) are powerful weapons. However, these weapons are extremely rare - only a few windrider warriors possess such weapons. Grenades are a legacy of ancient technology. The tribes of windriders do not know how to make such technologically complex weapons. There is a small chance of finding grenades only when exploring the dangerous ruins of ancient buildings. More primitive weapons are homemade bombs made from small metal parts, explosives and flammable mixtures. But only very skilled persons can make such homemade bombs. Among the tribes of windriders there are very few such “bomb makers” (in most cases, tribal shamans have a negative and suspicious attitude towards research and attempts to reproduce ancient mechanisms and technologies). To make such weapons, you must have knowledge, skills and the ability to find the necessary materials.

After bandaging your wounds, you walk through a noisy military camp and look for your friend Ben.

Fortunately, Ben is alive. His forehead is bandaged with cloth. However, he assures you that it is only a minor wound: several bullets flew very close and grazed the skin on his forehead and tore off a small piece of his ear.

Ben tells you with a smile and enthusiasm what happened to him during the battle.

You listen to him with conflicting feelings. You are glad that he survived (probably due to a combination of luck and the skills that Ben acquired through regular participation in reconnaissance expeditions under your leadership). But you are concerned about his youthful enthusiasm and recklessness.

You think, "Ben is too casual about taking risks. He is filled with a desire for glory and reckless courage. So far he's lucky. But what will he have in the future?"

In addition, you notice that some windriders are walking around the battlefield and carefully inspecting the corpses.

Taking a closer look, you notice that most of these windriders belong to the tribe of Nightwings.

Blued black wing plumage. Thick eyebrows. The looks of yellowish eyes.

These guys are noticeable...

You see that they are trying to take everything valuable from the corpses: weapons, ammunition, even some elements of uniform...

And these guys absolutely don’t care who the corpse belongs to - an ally or an enemy...

You tell Ben that you need to leave for a while to explore the center of the settlement.

As you walk towards a large building with old metal rusty walls, you see something else...

A small group of warrior-windriders, with bluish-purple tinged feathers. On their faces you see strange grayish growths in the forehead area. These growths are somewhat reminiscent of scales.

These are windrider warriors from tribe of Stormhunters

These warriors escort prisoners.

There were few prisoners taken after the battle.

Having recovered from the surprise attack from the rear, the armed detachments of babilians were able to retreat in an orderly manner. They fired powerful barrage fire from long-range firearms. Therefore, pursuing a retreating enemy would be too risky. Satlon ordered not to take risks and allow the remnants of the enemy forces to retreat.

Now you see that the prisoners are being led towards a small hill...

Your keen vision allows you to see the details of the situation: on the hill there are spears stuck into the ground. About a dozen spears in a limited space.

A group of surrounded prisoners.

One by one, the captured enemies are picked up by the arms of two windrider warriors.

Powerful flapping of wings.

Flight to the skies.

Two windrider warriors hold the prisoner's body, allowing him to experience the sensation of flying in the sky.

Then they let go of his body and fly in different directions...

The heart-rending screams of horror of the prisoners...

The body of the prisoner, from a height of about fifty meters, falls straight onto the spears...

In addition to the screams of horror and pleas for mercy from the prisoners still remaining on the ground, you hear prayers and ritual phrases from the group of Stormhunters: “Spirits of the Mountain Peaks, accept this sacrifice! Let the blood and fear of the wingless wicked groundwalkers be shed!”

The ritual practices of the tribe of Stormhunters are clearly more sophisticated than those of your tribe. You have only heard about something like this in the stories of old people...

Shuddered by what you see, you go inside a large building. Old and rusty metal walls were broken in several places. Judging by the appearance of the breaches, the enemy used explosives.

You are walking among the dwellings of local inhabitants. There are many wounded among the locals. Groans of pain can be heard from almost everywhere.

When you go inside the home of Fred the One-Eyed Seeker, you see that war chief Satlon is already inside. Next to him are several windrider warriors who are armed with rifles (probably captured weapons).

You manage to hear the end of the phrase of war chief Satlon: “Your settlement is obliged to ensure regular supplies of food to nest of Skyblooded. The supply size for now will be equal to half of your production. But this size should not be less than a certain predetermined quantity. To monitor compliance with the terms of the agreement, a small garrison of windriders remains in your settlement. Any trade with anyone other than windriders is prohibited for your settlement from now on.”

Fred's appearance clearly demonstrates that the recent battle was much more difficult for him than for you. This tall man with many scars on his face and a bandage over one eye looks like a man exhausted by injuries. Bruises on the face, bandaged wounds on the head, arms and right leg.

He responds to the words of Satlon: “We are **** to accept these... conditions. Too many people have died..."

War chief Satlon smiles contentedly and leaves the room, telling you in passing: “We have achieved success, Captain Dar! Thanks to you finding this settlement, our tribe has gained a outpost on the plains. But it’s too early for us to relax - the war with the enemy will still be long!”

When you and Fred are alone in a room, you feel a certain awkwardness...

Fred the One-Eyed Seeker looks at you with a tired and exhausted look with a hint of gloomy doom.

You are trying to defuse the oppressive atmosphere and you say: “I kept my promise. Windriders have come to the aid of your village..."

Fred the One-Eyed Seeker looks into your eyes.

He then spits a glob of saliva and blood onto the floor and says, “Yes... you kept your promise. Now the inhabitants of this settlement are **** to work for the windriders. We already have few people left... But now we will have to strain every effort to achieve the required volume of food supplies. Some people will probably have to starve a little... However, we managed to survive. This is the main thing. You could say that we were even lucky. For example: among the so-called “conditions” there were no clauses about mandatory and regular sucking of windrider’s dicks.”

The words of Fred are filled with dark sarcasm.

You feel an oppressive feeling of guilt.

You have been very generous with your promises in the past.

But you did not take into account that you were not the one who determines the conditions of war and the conditions of peaceful life.

You were not a ruler.

Therefore, you could not predict the full range of consequences...

You shyly hide your gaze and leave the room.

You go to a temporary military camp of windriders.

The day had to be spent resting and preparing for further actions.

You tried to distract yourself from sad thoughts by taking care of the needs of your small squad.

Ben looked at your darkened face with incomprehension.

After some time, war chief Satlon called you.

He gave you orders regarding the activities of your detachment. While the main forces of windriders will rest and collect trophies, you and your squad should conduct reconnaissance of the area. The task is not to engage in military clashes, to learn about the movement of enemy forces in the nearest area, to learn about potentially advantageous or inconvenient areas of the terrain.

Tomorrow morning you and your squad will set off on this mission.