These are our lands, as far as the hawk flies, as wide as our auroch roam.
Jensox was born in the Shoanti Hawk clan, growing up with the migrating herds. While the larger part of the clan has been pushed up to the Storval Plains, his family unit tended to stay more southerly, in the Curchain Hills, increasing contact with more "civilized" folks. Life was still very Shoanti however: animals and movement, hunting and scraping from the land.
In the herd is life, but there is more to life than the herd.
Jensox became a shepherd, and built a Shoanti life following his growing sheep and aurochs. Marrying, and starting a more personal flock. His life, like a healthy new calf, was growing and bright.
Eventually a new chieftain. Strife. Flock lost, Jensox and his animals left the tribe.
Shame on the Shepard who runs when the wolves howl.
After years of solitude, Jensox and his herd found balance. Jensox grew old in a comfortable routine, if one lacking in culture or conversation. But he and his canine companion kept the sheep safe, and the sheep in turn provided enough. Jensox was the itinerant Shepard, known of by a few and friendly with fewer. Sleeping in the trees near the animals, chasing away opportunistic predators, and slowly, mostly through necessity, picking up the basic skills of a druid, while the skills of society crumbled from dis-use.
As his sheep most recently returned to their southern grazing grove, however, the greater society reared its unfortunate head. There were signs posted claiming his wood! A woodsmen, felling trees, fled Jensox's displeasure, but not before droning on about... about a pett...mission?, and a, ... herring? Travel where? Gozreh drown them all, it seems like Jensox must head to town and sort out... whatever the hell is going on.
