I'll wirte a story here and upstae it every so often.
High above the vast expanse of the great plains perches a fortress, high walls on a towering peak. Many forts and fieilds lie below, and lords raid and plunder, and hell has come to Bletsungia.
Surviving on the plains takes a certain kind of person. Someone with no morals, values, or idea beyond surivial. Someone tough enough to surivie. Someon ewith the killer instinct, with the extra edge. And a longsword and a horse.
This is a story about those men.
They are the Warriders.
And this is their story.