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Answers in Far-Off Places, Part III
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Clan Irtsus war party, southern Sharuhnkar

The air was choked by the smoke of fires and the wailing of widows. War hounds patrolled the edges of the settlement, keeping any would-be stragglers from escaping and scaring off any who attempting to return after fleeing. Porters were making their lines into the granaries and storerooms of the village, of which there were many, while clan-guards marched in tandem, keeping a close eye on any survivors who thought to challenge their victory. At the center of the hamlet was the statue of a proud-looking hyena, surrounded by the crushed remains of votive candles. One of the Sharunki's animal gods, it seemed likely. Whatever pride it instilled in its people was extinguished as the stone beast was draped over by a banner bearing the twin sabers of Clan Irtsus.

Amidst the organized chaos of the looting, a man stood out from the crowd. With a broad figure garbed in decorated leather armor and the carved skull of a goat mounted upon his long-haired head, he cut an imposing presence. He marched through the remnants of the village. Once a proud bastion of the southern Sharuhnki, this sprawling settlement was now little more than another symbol of his clan's unwavering might. He turned to the woman beside him as he strolled, a rather tall and well-armed warrior. "And the other clans thought it couldn't be done," he said. "Even Clan Mochgol dared not attempt to conquer this place. Likely fearful of the walls and the numbered souls inside."

"Never mind them, my dove," the woman responded. "Why discuss cowards when we're surrounded by our own triumph? Or perhaps, your own triumph? I daresay your strategies were quite impressive to have even breached the walls, let alone won the settlement."

"Bah, cycle-talk [1]. This is the clan's victory. Iron wills, yes?"

The woman nodded with a smile. "Iron wills."

Their stroll was interrupted by a clan outrider, who pulled his camel beside the duo with a bow. "Beg pardon, chieftain, clanmother [2]. I would have words, if it pleases you."

Chieftain Harun gestured with a free hand. "Speak freely, brother."

"Firstly, I...or the clan, I suppose...thank you for your leadership and your discipline. You truly won the day, chieftain."

"Thank you, brother. And I would thank you for you and your comrades' work routing the defenders."

"A thousand pardons, chieftain, but my men and I merely followed your command. Regardless, we've found something of interest. You know the groves growing by the river side? The ones inside the walls? My men and I were looking over them and the storerooms and we think the Sharuhnki may have been up to something."

"What sort of something? Were they planning some sort of counter-strategy?"

"Oh, no, I doubt it. They don't have the willpower or the skill. But I think they may have been concocting something in the grove for their own benefit." The outrider reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of grain. "Their stores were filled with this. Grain and others. Plenty of it. They're gatherers, we know this much, but the bounties they've pulled in far exceed anything one would expect a reasonable grove to provide without whittling it down to nothing."

Clanmother Sikar spoke up, "River groves tend to provide far more than those out in the brush, brother. It's nothing surprising. And this means the bounty is now ours."

"A hundred apologies, clanmother, but we think this is more than just a grove." The outrider poured the grain back into his satchel. "The Sharuhnki managed to fill not just one, but three storerooms with this bounty. Three! And the grove is still alive! They must be doing something to the grove. Some of my men suggested sorcery. After all, we also discovered half-buried carrion in the grove. Some of my men even found strange implements in a nearby shed. They look like weapons, but for some weapon, the villagers never armed themselves with them. So perhaps they're not weapons? I can't be sure, but my men are questioning the new-made thralls. No one's spoken up, however."

"The villagers are acting tight-lipped around their betters, hm?" The chieftain nudged his partner. "Sounds like the outriders could use a hand with the questioning, dove."

The clanmother nodded and looked at the outrider inquisitively. "Take me to the grove. Perhaps I can make sense of this Cycle-caught sorcery. If not, then I'll see if we can't make the thralls talk. Let's move out."
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[1] nonsense
[2] wife of the chieftain, typically plays a central spiritual role, though responsibilities vary depending on the clan