In the steppes of a strange world, a measly goat herder lives an unfulfilling pastoralist lifestyle. Despite his name, Nergüi Ganbaatar, meant to deter bad spirits, he has on record been more unlucky than most. Forced to flee his homeland and beloved blue sky after an intense dispute, for the past few years, he has been stuck living in a much harsher environment that he is hardly used to.

While he stops at a local hotspot and prepares to trade off some of his sheep, he encounters a caravan of odd men who seem to speak his language, and is offered all the riches and things he could dream of, in exchange for his company in their travels. Acknowledging that he has nothing to lose, he blindly accepts and winds up finding himself on the outskirts of a large yet incompetent empire.

With his luck, it turns out that he is the spitting image of a former tyrant Khan. Now facing hostility in every corner of this foreign mystical land, Nergüi is forced to fend for his own. Without the use of his lame arm or his herd for food, and only a saber to his name.
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Please consider that this is the first story that I have written. I couldn't figure out a title so give me one in the comment section along with your criticism.