Mendean

Deep in the bowels of time, in the chthonian depths of the Underworld where man has not tread for eons, The Black Mother of the Thousand Goats does sleep. She is a huge, monstrous she-goat, with horns like sharpened spires and wicked, silver teeth. Her eyes glow bright in the darkness of the ethereal caverns, her wool shaggy and musty with time. Her hooves are like obsidian, and she snorts a hot, sulfurous breath as poisonous as serpent's venom. She sits at the right hand of Ereshkigal, The Great Lady of the Earth, who guards the doorway between the Underworld and What Lies Beyond. To the Mendeans, they are the two sacred patronesses of all weregoat kind, and in Mendean lore, it was Ereshkigal who helped begin the end of Pangaea.

The Mother Goat
The Black Mother's name is Uzthuka — her full title is Sharathuh Uzthuka-Ama, Mother Uzthuka of the Thousand Goats. Before her dark descent to Yrgal'ha, the First Tongue word for the domain of Ereshkigal and the Underworld in general, she was a fertility and wisdom Incarna. Among the humans of Father Wolf's time, she taught farming and reading, writing and the healing arts. She suckled orphan babes with her own milk, their parents taken in the night by monsters even more powerful than Uzthuka. But she was fearless, and tore at the monsters with her own hooves and teeth, ramming them with enough force to shatter bone. The Cult of the Goat was well-known for its wisdom, and they were often scholars and teachers to others of their kind. Some even became the first chieftains of humankind.

But the Uratha, children of Father Wolf, were furious. Uzthuka knew of many things that man should not have, and she freely gave away the knowledge like it was food or water. The "apes", ever growing smarter, began not to fear the wolves that coralled them like sheep. Women used as brood-slaves stabbed their "lovers" in the hearts with great spears; the men set fiery traps to keep the wolves from hunting their cattle in the fields. Urfarah, tyrant that he was, approached Uzthuka one day and said:

"Feed not these clever apes your words and influences! You are to make their fields grow and their pups to grow fat. We the Wolf-Kin rule this realm, and the Great Moon, my mate, rules all of the Shadow. Cease your dark workings, black goat."

To say Uzthuka was offended would be putting it mildly. The Firstborn that followed Urfarah sneered and snapped, calling the Mother Goat weak and soft. She stomped a mighty hoof into the ground, cracking the Earth and shaking it like a dusty pelt. With rage in her voice, Mother Uzthuka said:

"Return to the Moon-Bitch you service so, whelp! Your children run rampant while you are whipped into submission by the Mad Lady. There is no king of the Shadow; you're no more than her concubine. Leave me in peace and flaunt not the authority you do not have!"

It was Father Wolf's turn to be offended. He roared, enraged, and sought to take the Mother Goat in his teeth; his children followed suite. The closest, young Silver Wolf, lunged for Uzthuka; she turned and kick him with such force, she broke open his jaw. As he yowled in pain, Father Wolf's teeth scored open her side. She responded by nearly bashing his head in and spitting in his face, but as he was more powerful, he quickly shrugged it off. Together he and his children chased her down, tearing at her hindquarters until they were ribbons, hamstringing her until she bounded along only on two legs.

Despite her injuries, Uzthuka-Ama would not fall so easily. She ran and ran and ran, scrambling up steep slopes and over mountains sharp enough to slice through Urfarah’s paws. When every twist and turn through the peaks failed her, she dove into a cave in a last-ditch effort, slipping and sliding all the way down. Her great stamina brought her deeper and deeper into the Earth, where she could no longer see where she was going. She couldn't even tell if it was day or night, and there were fewer places to hide from her wolven pursuers. They finally cornered her before a great, underground ravine, their eyes glinting in the dark with hunter's Essence.

"Surrender yourself, goat," snarled Urfarah, his sons and daughters licking and growling hungrily. "Give yourself a chance to die with dignity. Give yourself up, and your children will be pardoned; they shall be the husbands and wives of my own grandchildren. They will serve faithfully, and your kin will be redeemed if you bow to me."

"Never, wolf!" said our Mother, glaring at him and his pack with hateful eyes. Her furious bleat was like a bellow as it echoed among the caves. "With my last breath I spit at you!"

And with that, she threw herself into the ravine, weakness overcoming her. Urfarah, too proud to lose such defiant prey, ordered his children to go after her. The only one who refused was Silver Wolf, who was in so much pain and so frightened by our mother's ferocity, that he tucked tail and ran for the surface. The others dared to plunge deeper into the bowels of the Earth, only to become lost among the myriad tunnels. Urfarah continued alone.

The Plunge Into the Deep
We do not know how long our Mother fell. When she did, almost every bone in her body was broken, and nearly gone were the rich stores of Essence, built up from years of faithful followings and her strong influence over humanity. In agony, she dragged herself along, the Wolf-King not far behind. The air grew colder and staler, and she found it harder to breathe; soon after, she could drag herself no more. With despair in her heart, she knew death was certain.

The sound of wolves in the distance grew closer and closer. Uzthuka sought to make peace with herself, but she was afraid – the fate of spirits after they are destroyed is unknown. Urfarah would not see it fit to let her fall into slumber, and she dreaded what he would do to her if he found her. Her heart raced faster and faster, her panic growing, until the wolves stopped dead in their tracks; they were still far from where she lay.

It was then that the mighty presence of Lady Ereshkigal made itself known. All around the caves, a furious demand sounded:

“Who dares enter my sacred dark?”

“It is I, Urfarah, Mate of Lady Iduth and King of the Shadow!” announced Urfarah proudly. Puffing out his chest, raising his tail and hackles, he said, “I seek a traitorous goat-bitch who dares question my royal right! Let me pass, spirit, and see to her demise!”

“You have no power here, Urfarah of the Shadow,” said Ereshkigal, cloaked in darkness and watching from all sides. To the beings from above, she was but a great, heavy pressure in the air. “I am the judge of anyone who enters my domain. Your laws are not mine, and you are not my own. Submit to the ruler of this world, and leave respectfully.”

Urfarah snarled with indignant anger. “How dare you, dirt-suckling mote!” he howled into the dark, stepping forward. “How dare you challenge the King of the Shadow! If you are so quick to tempt your own doom into visiting you, then come out so I might see your ugly face! Only the truly hideous to stand the light of the Moon above!”

The cave shook with an ominous roar. It wasn’t like a sound the above-dwellers had ever heard; thunder did not exist in this realm, and many of the burrowing beasts Urfarah had never seen, for not all that lives in the rock comes to the surface. A great wind pummelled into him, smelling of decay and sickness, and a force he couldn’t see ripped his chest open. He gurgled, howled in agony as all the sicknesses of the world assaulted him, his wounds infecting and his organs ravaged by things no mortal or spirit could survive. And yet, because of his massive power, he did; his broken body was flung back with a single command.

“LEAVE!”

The Firstborn, having heard their father's cries and the fury of Ereshkigal, grabbed their father and fled to the surface. To add insult to injury, Ereshkigal turned the caves behind him into the sharpest, slickest obsidian, tearing them to near-pieces as they had torn up our Mother. Urfarah dragged himself away, never to be seen again in the depths of the Underworld. As their yelps faded into the distance, Ereshkigal turned to our mother, who was on the last dregs of her Essence. Wearily, Uzthuka gazed up at the goddess.

“And who might you be?” Ereshkigal asked, irritated. Uzthuka took a shaking breath.

“I…am the Mother Goat,” said Uzthuka. “I feed and suckle…and bring new life…into those that are called ‘humans’. I…teach them…of many things….”

“And what are you doing in my realm?” Ereshkigal asked.

“I…was chased here,” said Uzthuka. “Urfarah…felt I told them too much. He wishes…to keep them afraid…by denying them knowledge. But to survive…they must know…of words and tools…of songs and stories…and that for every life born, it ends in death….”

“Death?” said Ereshkigal, curious. As this was the time of Pangaea, death was very uncommon; human ghosts did not yet roam the underworld. The only beings Ereshkigal ruled were the dead of burrowing animals and a few scavenger spirits, as well as anything else that lay underground.

“Yes…death,” said Uzthuka. “They are prey…for the many things above. Hundreds of hunters and no place to hide…even their shades can be fed upon. They are such humble creatures…they know very little, they are but children compared to you and I – MY children….”

Ereshkigal cocked her head to one side. “Are they humble?”

“Very…” wheezed Uzthuka.

“Are they loyal?”

“Of course….” It was now that Uzthuka couldn’t even lift her head. “They…only fight Urfarah…because he forces them to be the slaves and mates of his own children…. So that there may be more of them….”

Ereshkigal was angered. “That insolent brat has more than one litter?”

Uzthuka weakly nodded. Ereshkigal paused, deep in thought. The Mother Goat closed her eyes, the last of her breaths shallow and pained. Feeling began to slip away, Ereshkigal turned from Uzthuka’s battered body. Yet, there was enough of it left that Uzthuka felt many hands, slowly lifting her up as consciousness drained from her….

In the Service of Ereshkigal
Ereshkigal knew a slumbering spirit would be of no use to her. Insanely curious, the Lady Beneath wondered how she might revive Ereshkigal, and hear more about that which was called "human". To her, all the creatures of the Overworld were arrogant, spoiled by the light of the sun, never knowing what true survival was. Down there in the dark, food was limited to roots, grubs and other smaller animals, and if one got lost in the Underworld, the tunnels meant few could get out. But she had never talked to a creature of the above world, other than a few insults and dealing with creatures like Urfarah....

As Uzthuka-Ama continued to fade, Ereshkigal set her upon a table of obsidian. Ereshkigal took the webs of spiders, and used them to stitch up the wounds in Uzthuka's side, using an obsidian needle. She replaced the back legs of the Mother with those of a rabbit, giving them hooves of obsidian that were as strong as the hardest rock. Two great stalactites, gouged with knife-marks to make them ribbed, were sown onto the Mother's head. As gouges of flesh had been torn from the Mother's face as she fell across sharp stones, Ereshkigal patched it back together with flesh from corpses below. Then finally, the Lady Below gave Uzthuka teeth from a jackal's skull, as she had knocked them out in her fall from the world above.

When Uzthuka-Ama awoke, she was startled. It was as dark as night in the cave she was in — maybe even darker — but she could see as if it were day. She was laying on an obsidian bed, hard and stiff beneath her sore body. Very slowly, she rolled onto her stomach, trying to figure out her surroundings; she remembered little after collapsing in a heap.

(WIP)

The Weregoats of Prehistory
Mendean scholars peg The Age of Man as the beginning of the Agricultural Revolution. Their myths and legends state that farming rose shortly after the fall of Pangaea, when the wolves were preoccupied with seeking out totemic favours and learning to pass through the Gauntlet. Many claim that the basics of agriculture were a Mendean invention, passed down through oral tradition and kept secret during Uzthuka-Ama's recovery in Yrgal'ha; as with all mythologies, the truth of this is disputed. Among early civilizations, they found a place as shamans and advisors, performing death rites and overseeing matters of farming and education. Through the use of their Prophets, who had always advised during the Time of Exile, the Shadow-Teachers slowly introduced more and more concepts to humanity as their own discoveries were made. Uzthuka's children had long foretold of the explosive rise of mankind, and teaching them too much at one time would make them too quickly to swarm over the Earth.

The caste system born in Ereshkigal's underworld carried over into the living world.

The Mendeans in Historical Times
The Mendeans spread throughout Central and South Asia in the ancient and medieval eras. Most of them continued in their mission of spreading knowledge and giving aid and comfort to the poor and the oppressed. They attracted—and were attracted to—romantics, dreamers and underdogs of all sorts. They were mystics, shamans, fortune tellers. When Islam spread through Asia many Mendeans joined or founded Sufi orders. They were seekers of esoteric knowledge and leaders of secret societies. They founded schools, hospitals, orphanages and soup kitchens… Mendeans were often the last hope for society’s outcasts, but there were also a few natural predators in their ranks who instead became charlatans, crime bosses and demagogues…

The Mendeans remained a quiet presence in the region until the 19th century, when their fortunes took a serious turn for the worse. As more austere and uncompromising Islamic groups like the Wahhabis and Deobandis gained power, Sufi mystics and saints became targets for harassment and persecution. But the real trouble came from the West. In India the Mendeans and their followers resisted British authority and were frequently blamed and punished for the actions of real criminals, such as the notorious Thugs. After the failed rebellion in 1857 they suffered terribly in the ensuing purges of political dissidents, subversives and secret societies. Hundreds of full Mendeans and thousands of their blooded followers disappeared into unmarked graves… In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the remaining Mendeans were hunted mercilessly by both the British secret police and other Indian shifters, a process facilitated by a non-aggression pact between the Family of the Claw and a faction of English werewolf gentry who had migrated to India after their homeland became too soft and civilized… By Independence in 1947, the Mendeans were only memory in India.

Things went no better in Central Asia. The Mendeans led resistance to the spread of the Russian Empire and thus felt the full fury of the Tsar and his agents. Many of them actually joined the Bolsheviks after 1917… the teachings of socialism and Communism were naturally attractive to them. But as was typical for them, most affiliated themselves with the Trotskyites or other less practical factions within the Revolution… The rise of Stalin was the beginning of the end for the Mendeans in Central Asia. Under his rule the Soviets savagely stamped out any hint of opposition in their Muslim republics, killing thousands and sending millions into internal exile. As both political deviants and the embodiment of a primitive, backwards past, the Mendeans were singled out for especially harsh treatment. Many of them also fell prey to the Special Investigations Branch of the NKVD, who cared little about their politics but very much wanted to take them apart to see how they worked…

By the middle of the 20th century, Afghanistan was the last redoubt of the Mendeans, distant, isolated and neutral ground in great power conflicts. Then 1979 happened… After the Soviet invasion they joined the resistance in large numbers, and they soon felt the wrath of the KGB, the Spetsnaz and other even more secret and sinister minions of the Communist regime. The Russians were eventually driven out of Afghanistan, but the respite for the Mendeans was brief. The Taliban hunted the goat people with a vengeance, calling them abominations and an affront to Nature and Islam. (Rumors of a Pure cell within the Taliban leadership remain unconfirmed.) Even the American intervention in 2001 was a mixed blessing, as it brought the Mendeans under the scrutiny of the CIA and more esoteric groups like Task Force VALKYRIE that wanted to impose their will on supernaturals of all kinds…

By 2013 the numbers of the Mendeans have been greatly reduced. Never very numerous, they are now among the rarest shifters on Earth. A few small communities of them remain in Afghanistan and scattered around the world as part of the Afghan diaspora. A tiny handful remain in India and Pakistan, and there are rumors of Mendeans in Siberia, survivors of Stalin’s purges and the Gulag…