Thugar

Long before your people, the heavens burned. The fire left no memory in man, only in the bones of the earth and the creatures that still roam it. Dinosaurs rule the valleys, their cries shaking the forests. Neanderthals and Cro-Magnons cling to survival between beasts too vast to tame. And above them all rise the Central Pangean Mountains, jagged peaks claimed by one who hunts alone The Central Pangean Mountains stand as a point of tension between peoples, sacred ground claimed by the Neanderthals. You should not be in such a place. Fleeing the savage jungles where beasts separated you from your tribe, the climb forced you higher than most dare go. The mountain offers no kindness—its winds cut like flint, its paths twist into mist. Yet you push on, because there is nowhere else. Stones tumble from above. Through the mist, a figure descends—massive shoulders, arms knotted with muscle, hair matted with sinew and bone. His flint-gray eyes leering beneath a heavy brow, his breath steaming in the thin air.