[hider=The Hogtusk Tribe] Nation/Clan/Kingdom/Tribe Name: The Hogtusk Tribe Represented Color: [colour=peru]Peru.[/colour] Race: Ogres Breed: Furskins Capital: Big Rock Ruler: Rog-mohog the Brainy Type of Government: Chiefdom. The Hogtusks are led by a chieftain whose position usually is legitimised through strength, skill or herd size. In addition to the chieftain, the clan shaman holds considerable power as a spiritual figurehead. Religion: The Hogtusks practice a form of animism where the nature around them is inhabited by several spirits. These potentially number the millions, but due to a lacking affinity for counting, the Hogtusks primarily stick to five Great Spirits. These are routinely honoured through sacrifice and prayer. The five spirits are, [b]The Owl Spirit[/b]: The sneaky hunter - an aspiration for all who walk the woods in search of game. The Owl Spirit teaches the Hogtusks to be mindful of their steps and their grunts when sneaking up on prey, something that can be quite difficult for such menacing humanoids. Still, they try their very best. [b]The Boar Spirit[/b]: The meaty meal - the Great Boar Spirit is the most important one to the Hogtusks, being a symbol of wealth and prosperity. The Boar Spirit teaches the Hogtusks to savour every meal and to treat their livestock properly so that it one day may feed many mouths. [b]The Dog Spirit[/b]: The barking mutt - the Dog Spirit is a symbol of war to the Hogtusks. Few beasts can be as rabid as a wild wolf, and when vicious sentiment oozes through the camps like a plague, the Hogtusks know only one solution. When the dogs howl and bark in the night, the Hogtusks prepare for war. [b]The Ancestor Spirit[/b]: The old folks - in Hogtusk mythology, the soul departs the body after death and becomes a star in the sky. The whole starscape is known as the ‘ancestor spirit’. They teach the Hogtusks the knowledge of old and tell them over and over again to remember it properly this time. Crafters often seek their advice when they wish to pursue old and new skills. [b]The Wild Spirit[/b]: The lotsa things - as the name implies, the wild spirit in the untameable aspect of nature. It incorporates all the other spirits into itself and becomes a representation of nature itself and manifests itself in everything from stones to animals to ogres. It’s a tricky spirit, and is often described as an antagonistic force. Death and disease are often attributed to the wild spirit. Geographical Location: The Hogtusk Tribe is in large part nomadic - they live primarily alongside great boars, oxen and goats, and decide where to settle based on where the livestock decide to graze. The only permanent settlement that is manned all year round is Big Rock, a large number of tents surrounding the spiritual centre of Hogtusk society - the Big Rock. It is single tall peak in the middle of the Steppy, also known as the Big Empty Place. The peak overlooks several pig- and oxskin tipis and lean-tos. [hider=Location of Preference] [img]https://i.imgur.com/R1Svehj.jpg[/img] [/hider] History: For centuries, ogres have roamed the Ard Tops, a mountain range to the south-west of the Big Rock, making life a pain for everyone and everything around. Largely primitive and reliant on instinct to survive, these ogres quickly learned that picking fruit off trees and roots out of the ground could probably feed one or two mouths, but were but scraps to the whole family. It didn’t take a genius to realise there were bigger boars in the wood, and it was, in fact, not a genius who took up the first club and set her eyes on a small swine from the lower parts of the mountains. The news of these juicy beasts quickly spread, and it didn’t take long for the ogres to hunt every single boar around the Ard Tops. During this time, the ogres grew numerous and powerful, and their large forms necessitated large meals; therefore, as the large drop of pig’s blood soaked into the forest soil, the ogres faced a terrible problem: What on earth were they going to eat? A massive die-off ensued, with ten-foot-tall giants clad in thick, brown fur dropped to the ground like flies. The ogres flocked to their primitive shrines, begging every spirit their limited minds could think of to help them out of this predicament. The spirits sadly didn’t oblige. In the end, the ogres were reduced to a mere shadow of the menace they had been before. Slowly, but surely, the evidence of their rampage across the land began to fade as life returned to the hills. Seeing the animals return sent the ogres into a frenzy. Spears were made; arrows, fletched. After such suffering and such hunger, the ogres would eat again. However, history would not pass as so. One group of ogres, known to the Hogtusk nowadays as the Proffyts, recalled the lessons of the Ancestor Spirit and halted the ogre hunt. They reasoned instead that they should beseech the Wild Spirit, apologise for their senseless rampage in the past and instead offer to live alongside the boar - learn from it, care for it. The message took a long time to sink in, during which the Proffyts feared the boars would be hunted to extinction again. Turmoil spurred; brawls and skirmishes between the different clans sent many into exile. In the end, the Proffyts were defeated, forced to leave their ancestral home in the hills around the Ard Tops and cross into the endless sea of grass known as the Big Empty Place. Leading the exiles was one named Mohog, and as the sun peeked over the horizon one day weeks after their exodus, the ogre found his eyes locking onto a familiar form on the horizon. It was a boar - one larger and fatter than he had ever seen. Water filled his mouth and he reached for his spear. With the teachings of the Owl Spirit echoing in his mind, the ogre began to sneak in on the boar. The distance became just right; the ogre flattened against the ground as silently as he could as the hog turned around. It scanned the tall grass, but found nothing and went back to eating some mushrooms. Mohog seized his chance. The ogre rose into a crouch, pulled back his arm and aimed-- Then he dropped the spear. The clack as it struck the ground caught the boar’s attention again and it set off into a sprint. Before long, it had vanished from his view. Mohog swallowed the disappointed spittle in his mouth. The Wild Spirit had possessed him, surely, he thought - not even an ogre was stupid enough to let such a juicy boar simply bugger off. Yet there he knelt, the spear no longer in his hand, and his eyes locked on the mushrooms the boar had been eating. He plucked one and gave it a sniff. It smelled of dirt. He took a bite. It tasted like dirt, only juicier. While not overjoyed at the flavour, it was a considerably large mushroom, he had to admit, and as he dug around in the earth some more, he found that it grew deep - and had siblings. He collected as many as he could and carried them back to his clan. That night, they ate properly for the first time in weeks. The next day, Mohog and some others found more mushrooms and began chasing boars with offers of food in exchange for a haunch of meat. Needless to say, the boars were not interested. The next day, Mohog and even more found additional mushrooms and laid them in a pile. Then they hid some distance away to observe. Sure enough, eventually there came a boar - then some more. After a time, a large pack were gnawing happily on the mushrooms the ogres had gathered for them. The ogres were content and gave each other proud pats on the back. Then, when the mushrooms had been finished, the boars left. The ogres sat in the grass with empty expressions, staring at the pile of mushroom crumbs. The next day, Mohog and the whole clan lined up into one great wall, covering a sizeable amount of ground. Each ogre had a handful of mushrooms in their hand and a bucketload of patience in their heart. And so, they waited. Dawn became midday; midday became evening. Ogres began to sit down and mumble to each other. Out of all the plans, this had to be the silliest one yet. They all looked exactly like the type of creature any sensible smaller animal would instinctively avoid. Thinking anything would approach them was utterly-- A roar of surprise had sounded from the end of the line. An ogre waved his free hand while the other was feeding an increasingly frightened boar. The others slowly gathered around to witness the miracle - a boar had willingly approached them. The following weeks were spent much in the same way, and as weeks became months, more and more boars flocked to the ogres. A small herd accumulated, and the herd soon began to birth young. The old were killed and eaten, and the breeding population were protected and fed. The ever increasing need for mushrooms took the ogres further and further out on the Big Empty Place and along the way, they encountered oxen, which were tamed in much the same manner, albeit with fewer trial attempts. After many years of wandering the large plains, the ogres came upon a single giant peak in the middle of the Big Empty Place - or rather, they had seen it miles away and walked towards it. They had found it mesmerising from a distance, and around and atop the peak they grew familiar with the local goat populations. These were tamed in much the same way. Then, on his way up to the summit of the mountain, Mohog suffered a terrible accident and was killed during a fall. The ogres grieved for him, for he had been their salvation from the vicious cycle of hunting and dying. However, as the legends say, Mohog was carried up to the night sky by the Ancestor Spirit themself, and enshrined forever as the great Norf Star. Now, his son, Rog-mohog, must take up the mantle as chieftain and ensure the continuation of this young herder civilisation, starting by making them a home. [/hider]