Kuluk Khan was celebrating the best of his warriors, leading them in praises to the Gods and great roaring songs of glory and toasts to the valor of their race. A well fought victory over their neighbors the Aorsi had been achieved, blood had flowed, glory won. Even now the glory was revisited every time he rised his drinking cup, for his cup was the hollowed out skull of the Aorsi Khan Timuz. A little work, a quick copper lining, some gems in the eye sockets--presto, instant koumiss cup. The victory had pushed the Aorsi away from Cimmerian lands, all you could see for several days ride in any direction was his now.
The Aorsi would be missed, they had always fought well--a tribes greatness was measured by the valor of her enemies--plus there was nothing better than a good fight. Already he had sent men to scout the far horizons around his territories-- for rich lands, allies, resources and acourse, someone to fight!. Early reports from his expeditions up and down the river his people called the V O G L A reported little resistance from the scattered small tribes or villages--all accepted Cimmerian rule. The only thing out of the ordinary was the tale of a river so wide that it took days to cross and you could not see the other shore, the locals called it the caspian--he would have to see this to believe it.
It was time to receive ambassadors again, the great victory over the Aorsi ( and his single combat victory over their Khan ) had given his a small claim to fame. For several months the various small tribes of the region had been trying to get on his good side, indeed just last week a small tribe of 50 warriors had offered to merge with the Cimmerians, it was only 50 horsemen, but hey every bit helped. Today the riders were Cuman's, a differant story. The Cumans according to Kuluk Khan's neighbors were a growing powerful nation to the west of Cimmerians. These preliminary talks were an effort to reach an agreement of friendship between the two nations. While watching the Cuman's ride into the camp, something catch his eye, something he had noticed time and again during the week--the dress and mannerisms of the younger warriors of many of the neighboring ambassadors.
More than once he saw the younger " generation " eying him with almost hero worship, the "great khan, victor, swordsman,ect... " soon they dressed like him, wore Cimmerian style hair, decorations on their saddles, ect.... It didn't come to him till he had the dream, a version from the great God PA-PA, God of thunder and weather, chief God. The dream had shown him leading a great army, but it had been composed of warriors of many tribes, all loyal to him alone. Now he understood, he would raise a corps of warriors loyal to him from all the tribes, building his strength up and at the same time draining there's--the best of both worlds. He would approach these " hero worshipers and recruit them as the foundation of this corps. In his dream they had armoured in bronze from head to toe, horse included and armed with lances. When he had mentioned this to a macedonian merchant trader he had called such men " kataphrati " but the word was to strange, they would simply be The Ashinyi Ayui --The Khans Blood Band.