Long story short, in the Caucasus Mountains on the territory of Avaristan there was one highland village - Khunzakh, the capital of Sarir. Medieval Caucasus. There was beautiful nature and views - the majestic Caucasus Mountains, soaring eagles, springs with emerald water, waterfalls, clean mountain air and blue sky. In general, the nature here was definitely not poor and anyone could envy the everyday views. However, the residents did not have time to enjoy. Times were hard, constant wars. Dzhigits were constantly leaving for fights and battles, defending or, on the contrary, capturing lands in the name of their nation. Real warriors grew up here, real men in papakhas and burkas, who were not afraid to meet death face to face and die in the name of honor. Mountain adats were above all. A mixture of honor, dignity, beauty and blood was the life of the local people.One of such horsemen was Asad. A man who was brave (it is hard to find a coward here), strong and worthy. He had already been in many battles, although he was 23 years old. He was tall, broad-shouldered and muscular, with chestnut hair and green eyes. His face had rough features. Adats and traditions were above any laws for him. He did not tolerate weakness and despised cowards. He was almost always serious and a little gloomy, it was hard to make him laugh.