[b][color=white]There was a time before the peoples of the Mihtal Steppe knew the herder's life they celebrate today. A time when they struggled against the harsh climate, subsisting on the rodents and thorny plants that seemed the only things alive in the harsh, rocky wastes. Every day a fight for survival against the scorching sun and the barren earth, with no time for revelry or joy.

Then a traveler came from the Northern Seas, a land the people of Mihtal dreaded more than all else. It could only be seen from the highest mountaintops, and no Mihtali who departed for it was ever heard from again. But this traveler was plainly no ordinary man. He came surrounded by white beasts, and below his waist he very much resembled them. These beasts ascended the steep slopes of the steppe with ease, grazing upon the needled scourges that lined the rocky hills as if they were soft breads. When this beast-legged stranger returned from the mountainside, having finished feeding his flock, he taught the Mihtali how to keep them close at hand, for the beasts he called goats would provide nourishing milk.

The traveler was hailed as a hero; nay, a god for bringing such a blessing. Shrines were built for him, and the offerings of slaughtered lambs and fermented milk seemed paltry compared to what the goats had to offer. Women considered it an honor to bear his sons and daughters-- a good thing, too, as his passion was also befitting a god. Even the offerings of young women in their prime were hardly enough to slake his lusts, as he would steal away from his temple to find yet another lover. He may be able to disguise himself, but the size of his manhood was always the sign of Kozel Maeritori, Father of Herders.[/color][/b]

[collapse=In His Own Words][color=white]"It's all an accident, really. Wound up chasing a dryad further south than I knew they could go, and before I knew it I was down in the wastes. It's a good thing my herd was loyal, or else I probably would've been shit outta luck. As it stands, though, things could be a lot worse. You get a lot of people believing you [i]are[/i] some kind of god, and after a while it becomes a little more true. Besides, I've taken such a liking to them I don't know if I could go back to chasing nymphs into ponds and near drowning every time.

Sure could use something different to drink, though. Koumiss is fine, but I'd give quite a lot to go back to drinking wine neat from the skin. Can't grow grapes worth a damn here."[/color][/collapse]