Post by Harkovast on Jan 28, 2016 3:42:39 GMT
The Foshtor
"What is a boy who completes the rituals but knows nothing of their meanings? He is like a man with a thousand monmuls but no clue how to milk them.
I will tell you the story, from which all other tales must grow, so you will know what it is that you do this day.
In the ancient times, The One To Whom None Are Higher created great herds of Monmul and gave them to Shakala, the wise and brave leader of the Foshtor.
Unfortunately, Batatu, the greedy drunkard king of the Kumaru, was filled with envy and coveted the monmul and attempted to murder Shakala to steal the herds.
The two fought fiercely, and this angered Him That Is Over All Men, who blamed them both for this disrespect.
Foshtor and Kumaru were cast out onto the Savannah, but the Batatu and his sons did not learn their lesson and persisted with their envy. To this day, the Kumaru seek to steal the Monmul from us.
With this ritual you take up the mantle of Shakala, to defend our herds, to seek out any animals that have been stolen and regain the favour of It That Looks Down, to bring glory to the Foshtor again."
The Foshtor live in numerous small tribes across the Great Savannah.
They are ruled by male tribal elders, who achieve this rank through raising through various rituals at different stages of life. These leaders will gather in council to discuss matter of importance. From amongst their ranks they select overall leaders from amongst their most senior members, with age and the amount of Monmuls a candidate owns being the main factors in this choice.
The primary duty of a Foshtor warrior is to defend the monmul herds. Foshtor believe all the monmul in the world were given to them by The Sky God and view the Kumaru as thieves. Both sides engage in raids and attacks to acquire the animals from each other and their ownership is a constantly source of tension for the two races.
The idea of passing tests to advance in rank is central to the Foshtor society.
As males age they go through a variety of rituals, advancing from a child, to a young man, to a warrior, to a senior warrior, to a chief, to a great chief.
To refuse to undertake these trials would be unthinkable, as these are the very foundations of what it means to be a Foshtor.
The first ritual, taken around age 16, marks a Foshtor entering Manhood and involves sleeping out in the wilds, away from their tribe, under the watch of The One That Is Above. Having completed this ritual, a Foshtor man may take a bride.
The ritual to become warriors can only be carried out by a married foshtor. It involves suffering harsh beatings in front of the tribe, from which they are expected to not cry in pain. This is carried out by warriors who have already achieved this rank.
The ritual to become a senior warrior can only be undertaken by one who has successfully stolen Monmul back from the Kumaru. It involves performing a series of dances and performances and well as various formalised mock combats with existing senior warriors.
To undergo the ritual to become a chief, a man must own at least 100 monmul in his herd. This ritual is easier for the participants (as they are older at this point), and is mainly a series of ceremonial pledges and involves the washing of the new chiefs hooves by women of the tribe.
The ritual to become a great chief involves pledges of loyalty from existing chiefs and the reciting of the new great chiefs many deeds and the number of Monmul he has accumulated.
Throughout all these rituals, the Foshtor drink the sweet nectar of the Monmul, to remind themselves of their duties and what they fight for.
Should a Foshtor fail in the completion of a ritual, he is exiled and never permitted to return, having shamed their people before The One We Look Up To. His herd would be divided up amongst tribe members of superior rank and his wives would be expected to remarry other warriors.
Having completed a ritual, the Foshtor male receives different jewellery to mark their new social rank, with his wives receiving equivalent jewellery to show their new position.
Foshtor society has a clear gender divide, with men responsible for tending the herds, decision making and fighting with the Kumaru, while women are responsible for caring for the home, raising children and milking the Monmul when the men return with their herds. Women do not undertake these rituals, as their status and rank is based on that of their husbands.
Foshtor are exceptionally tall and strong, but their strength is less than that of the mighty Kumaru and their thin bodies are easily broken if a Kumaru gets close enough to them. The Foshtor always try to fight their enemies at a distance, using speed and agility to evade them and only closing in to finish wounded or disabled Kumaru with war clubs.
For this reason, Foshtor favour thrown spears, using wooden holders to fit their javelins into, increasing their already long arms and allowing them to hurl projectiles great distances.
By calling on the power of their thunder magic, skilled Foshtor can call down the wrath of He That Looks Down to cause lighting to strike as their spears impact, causing devastating damage.
The Foshtor also uses large bolas', which they ignite with magic as they twirl them. These can be used to entangle a charging Kumaru, with the flames causing painful injuries.
It should be noted that while the Foshtor might seem fragile next to a Kumaru, an adult male stands over eight feet tall and compared to most races is a terrifying prospect in hand to hand combat, able to cave in a warriors helmet with a single powerful kick.
Fighting for the Foshtor is often riskier for them than their Kumaru opponents, as they are less robust and their injuries are more likely to be crippling. A broken leg or arm can be hard for a Foshtor to recover from and wounds are viewed as no excuse in the sacred rituals of a tribe.
Because of these harsh conditions, women will usually out number men in the tribe, and it is common for senior tribal members to have multiple wives, with women keen to marry those who have achieved a high rank and accumulated many monmuls.
The Foshtor's disadvantages compared to their enemies in direct combat are compensated for by their tremendous speed and agility. Though in fighting they may come off worse overall, overall they are more successful at stealing Monmul, which is the true measure of victory on the Savannah.
These differences in results are not pronounced enough to give either side an over whelming advantage. Kumaru can never be certain they will come away less wounded than their enemies and the Foshtor are not certain of taking the most monmuls from any encounter.
Foshtor social gatherings involve drum playing and dance performances by their warriors, who dance in unison while chanting, and engage in leaping into the air with their arms at their sides. The sound of their hooves hitting the hard earth produces a thunderous noise that can be heard for great distances. Practiced Foshtor men can jump very high and in this manner and create a very impressive display. As they dance the skies roll with lightning as the Foshtor magic flows freely, a sign to the Foshtor of The One Over Head's approval.
At these festivals Foshtor also drink the nectar from their Monmuls, the sweetest nectar going to those of warrior status and above, while women and lesser ranks receive nectar of lower quality, produced by younger Monmuls.
The Foshtor religion does not involve worship of Him Above. They consider their god to be powerful, but mostly indifferent and only accumulation of Monmul can earn his favour, and through this they will gain blessings that will shower all their people.
The Foshtor lack any formal priesthood, with their religious beliefs and spiritual ideas being passed on as part of the initiation rituals, with those who have attained higher rank being viewed as holding greater authority in legal and religious matters.
On some occasions, the Foshtor engage in shared religious rituals with the Kumaru, where it is forbidden for the two sides to fight.
In these the Foshtor engage in many odd practices, listing their deeds and ranks, whose significance is completely lost on the Kumaru. For their part the Kumaru watch these activities with respectful, but generally glum, silence. To quarrel under the gaze of The Master of the Skies, let alone fight, would be unthinkable to all sides.
Foshtor have no objection to homosexuality, and it is considered a normal and healthy practice while they are out guarding the herds, or amongst women waiting for their husbands to return. However, warriors are ultimately expected to take wives and produce children, though any homosexual relations are viewed as separate and not in competition with this arrangement.
Half castes are considered unacceptable by the Foshtor, mainly because their main contact with another race is with their hated rivals.
No half caste would be permitted to marry or under take any ritual and exile would be almost inevitable.
In recent years, Foshtor and Kumaru society was shaken by a tremendous scandal, in which the son of a Kumaru King fell in love with the young wife of a great chief of the Foshtor.
She eloped and married the Kumaru prince. His father did not condemn this arrangement and continued to name his son as his favoured successor.
The Foshtor were outraged and demanded that the chiefs wife be returned, but the Kumaru prince refused and his father refused to make any ruling against his beloved son.
With a shared ritual approaching, this situation threatened to cause tribes on both sides to boycott or even attack each other during the sacred event!
The situation only escalated further when the Kumaru king passed away, making his son the most obvious choice to take over leadership. With some supporting and some opposing this arrangement on both sides, there was not only the possibility for uncontrolled violence between the two races but even civil war within each culture.
Finally, the Kumaru Prince was assassinated with poisoned beer while visiting tribal chiefs to try to gather support. Killing a guest in this manner and deliberating tainting beer made with sacred Monmul nectar would normally be considered an outrage, but this was overlooked by most who were simply happy to have the tension resolved.
The Princes wife, who considered herself the rightful Princess of the Kumaru, swore vengeance and, during the shared ceremony during which she was to be returned to her aged Foshtor husband, she declared that both peoples were deluded, fighting over worthless beasts for an uncaring god. She swore that if there was anything in this world of true value she would find it, possess it and would rule over them all. This was thought to be shocking but ultimately mad ramblings...until she escaped and poisoned the Monmul herd, killing hundreds of the animals. This was an atrocity against both peoples, who were shocked that anyone could commit such deliberate and senseless sacrilege against them.
After this she disappeared, killing the war parties from both sides that were sent to find her.
The fact her ultimate fate was left unknown is a source of unease for both Kumaru and Foshtor and even now, fifty years later, the mad princess is only spoken of in hushed and fearful tones.
Foshtor society is male dominated, but the men are under tremendous expectations placed upon them. Failure is not tolerated in any aspect of their lives, placing them under great pressure not to humiliate themselves. To earn the favour of That Which Dwells Over The Clouds, nothing short of perfection will do.
"What is a boy who completes the rituals but knows nothing of their meanings? He is like a man with a thousand monmuls but no clue how to milk them.
I will tell you the story, from which all other tales must grow, so you will know what it is that you do this day.
In the ancient times, The One To Whom None Are Higher created great herds of Monmul and gave them to Shakala, the wise and brave leader of the Foshtor.
Unfortunately, Batatu, the greedy drunkard king of the Kumaru, was filled with envy and coveted the monmul and attempted to murder Shakala to steal the herds.
The two fought fiercely, and this angered Him That Is Over All Men, who blamed them both for this disrespect.
Foshtor and Kumaru were cast out onto the Savannah, but the Batatu and his sons did not learn their lesson and persisted with their envy. To this day, the Kumaru seek to steal the Monmul from us.
With this ritual you take up the mantle of Shakala, to defend our herds, to seek out any animals that have been stolen and regain the favour of It That Looks Down, to bring glory to the Foshtor again."
The Foshtor live in numerous small tribes across the Great Savannah.
They are ruled by male tribal elders, who achieve this rank through raising through various rituals at different stages of life. These leaders will gather in council to discuss matter of importance. From amongst their ranks they select overall leaders from amongst their most senior members, with age and the amount of Monmuls a candidate owns being the main factors in this choice.
The primary duty of a Foshtor warrior is to defend the monmul herds. Foshtor believe all the monmul in the world were given to them by The Sky God and view the Kumaru as thieves. Both sides engage in raids and attacks to acquire the animals from each other and their ownership is a constantly source of tension for the two races.
The idea of passing tests to advance in rank is central to the Foshtor society.
As males age they go through a variety of rituals, advancing from a child, to a young man, to a warrior, to a senior warrior, to a chief, to a great chief.
To refuse to undertake these trials would be unthinkable, as these are the very foundations of what it means to be a Foshtor.
The first ritual, taken around age 16, marks a Foshtor entering Manhood and involves sleeping out in the wilds, away from their tribe, under the watch of The One That Is Above. Having completed this ritual, a Foshtor man may take a bride.
The ritual to become warriors can only be carried out by a married foshtor. It involves suffering harsh beatings in front of the tribe, from which they are expected to not cry in pain. This is carried out by warriors who have already achieved this rank.
The ritual to become a senior warrior can only be undertaken by one who has successfully stolen Monmul back from the Kumaru. It involves performing a series of dances and performances and well as various formalised mock combats with existing senior warriors.
To undergo the ritual to become a chief, a man must own at least 100 monmul in his herd. This ritual is easier for the participants (as they are older at this point), and is mainly a series of ceremonial pledges and involves the washing of the new chiefs hooves by women of the tribe.
The ritual to become a great chief involves pledges of loyalty from existing chiefs and the reciting of the new great chiefs many deeds and the number of Monmul he has accumulated.
Throughout all these rituals, the Foshtor drink the sweet nectar of the Monmul, to remind themselves of their duties and what they fight for.
Should a Foshtor fail in the completion of a ritual, he is exiled and never permitted to return, having shamed their people before The One We Look Up To. His herd would be divided up amongst tribe members of superior rank and his wives would be expected to remarry other warriors.
Having completed a ritual, the Foshtor male receives different jewellery to mark their new social rank, with his wives receiving equivalent jewellery to show their new position.
Foshtor society has a clear gender divide, with men responsible for tending the herds, decision making and fighting with the Kumaru, while women are responsible for caring for the home, raising children and milking the Monmul when the men return with their herds. Women do not undertake these rituals, as their status and rank is based on that of their husbands.
Foshtor are exceptionally tall and strong, but their strength is less than that of the mighty Kumaru and their thin bodies are easily broken if a Kumaru gets close enough to them. The Foshtor always try to fight their enemies at a distance, using speed and agility to evade them and only closing in to finish wounded or disabled Kumaru with war clubs.
For this reason, Foshtor favour thrown spears, using wooden holders to fit their javelins into, increasing their already long arms and allowing them to hurl projectiles great distances.
By calling on the power of their thunder magic, skilled Foshtor can call down the wrath of He That Looks Down to cause lighting to strike as their spears impact, causing devastating damage.
The Foshtor also uses large bolas', which they ignite with magic as they twirl them. These can be used to entangle a charging Kumaru, with the flames causing painful injuries.
It should be noted that while the Foshtor might seem fragile next to a Kumaru, an adult male stands over eight feet tall and compared to most races is a terrifying prospect in hand to hand combat, able to cave in a warriors helmet with a single powerful kick.
Fighting for the Foshtor is often riskier for them than their Kumaru opponents, as they are less robust and their injuries are more likely to be crippling. A broken leg or arm can be hard for a Foshtor to recover from and wounds are viewed as no excuse in the sacred rituals of a tribe.
Because of these harsh conditions, women will usually out number men in the tribe, and it is common for senior tribal members to have multiple wives, with women keen to marry those who have achieved a high rank and accumulated many monmuls.
The Foshtor's disadvantages compared to their enemies in direct combat are compensated for by their tremendous speed and agility. Though in fighting they may come off worse overall, overall they are more successful at stealing Monmul, which is the true measure of victory on the Savannah.
These differences in results are not pronounced enough to give either side an over whelming advantage. Kumaru can never be certain they will come away less wounded than their enemies and the Foshtor are not certain of taking the most monmuls from any encounter.
Foshtor social gatherings involve drum playing and dance performances by their warriors, who dance in unison while chanting, and engage in leaping into the air with their arms at their sides. The sound of their hooves hitting the hard earth produces a thunderous noise that can be heard for great distances. Practiced Foshtor men can jump very high and in this manner and create a very impressive display. As they dance the skies roll with lightning as the Foshtor magic flows freely, a sign to the Foshtor of The One Over Head's approval.
At these festivals Foshtor also drink the nectar from their Monmuls, the sweetest nectar going to those of warrior status and above, while women and lesser ranks receive nectar of lower quality, produced by younger Monmuls.
The Foshtor religion does not involve worship of Him Above. They consider their god to be powerful, but mostly indifferent and only accumulation of Monmul can earn his favour, and through this they will gain blessings that will shower all their people.
The Foshtor lack any formal priesthood, with their religious beliefs and spiritual ideas being passed on as part of the initiation rituals, with those who have attained higher rank being viewed as holding greater authority in legal and religious matters.
On some occasions, the Foshtor engage in shared religious rituals with the Kumaru, where it is forbidden for the two sides to fight.
In these the Foshtor engage in many odd practices, listing their deeds and ranks, whose significance is completely lost on the Kumaru. For their part the Kumaru watch these activities with respectful, but generally glum, silence. To quarrel under the gaze of The Master of the Skies, let alone fight, would be unthinkable to all sides.
Foshtor have no objection to homosexuality, and it is considered a normal and healthy practice while they are out guarding the herds, or amongst women waiting for their husbands to return. However, warriors are ultimately expected to take wives and produce children, though any homosexual relations are viewed as separate and not in competition with this arrangement.
Half castes are considered unacceptable by the Foshtor, mainly because their main contact with another race is with their hated rivals.
No half caste would be permitted to marry or under take any ritual and exile would be almost inevitable.
In recent years, Foshtor and Kumaru society was shaken by a tremendous scandal, in which the son of a Kumaru King fell in love with the young wife of a great chief of the Foshtor.
She eloped and married the Kumaru prince. His father did not condemn this arrangement and continued to name his son as his favoured successor.
The Foshtor were outraged and demanded that the chiefs wife be returned, but the Kumaru prince refused and his father refused to make any ruling against his beloved son.
With a shared ritual approaching, this situation threatened to cause tribes on both sides to boycott or even attack each other during the sacred event!
The situation only escalated further when the Kumaru king passed away, making his son the most obvious choice to take over leadership. With some supporting and some opposing this arrangement on both sides, there was not only the possibility for uncontrolled violence between the two races but even civil war within each culture.
Finally, the Kumaru Prince was assassinated with poisoned beer while visiting tribal chiefs to try to gather support. Killing a guest in this manner and deliberating tainting beer made with sacred Monmul nectar would normally be considered an outrage, but this was overlooked by most who were simply happy to have the tension resolved.
The Princes wife, who considered herself the rightful Princess of the Kumaru, swore vengeance and, during the shared ceremony during which she was to be returned to her aged Foshtor husband, she declared that both peoples were deluded, fighting over worthless beasts for an uncaring god. She swore that if there was anything in this world of true value she would find it, possess it and would rule over them all. This was thought to be shocking but ultimately mad ramblings...until she escaped and poisoned the Monmul herd, killing hundreds of the animals. This was an atrocity against both peoples, who were shocked that anyone could commit such deliberate and senseless sacrilege against them.
After this she disappeared, killing the war parties from both sides that were sent to find her.
The fact her ultimate fate was left unknown is a source of unease for both Kumaru and Foshtor and even now, fifty years later, the mad princess is only spoken of in hushed and fearful tones.
Foshtor society is male dominated, but the men are under tremendous expectations placed upon them. Failure is not tolerated in any aspect of their lives, placing them under great pressure not to humiliate themselves. To earn the favour of That Which Dwells Over The Clouds, nothing short of perfection will do.
