The Skeletons of Stableedpoison Swamp

This here is the largest tribe of skeletons, living out in stabblledpoison swamp, where they are left alone by the Flesh dwellers

Here we see a friendly warforged, a living construct, attempt to to make contact. Detecting him as a living being they chatter their teeth in an intimidation tactic, brandishing scimitars. However, as their serrated poisoned tipped spears have little effect they realize he has no flesh and he is accepted into the tribe. There will be celebration tonight.

The full moon draws near, the skeletons of the Stabbleedpoison swamp tribe adorn themselves in ceremonial poisonous barbed armour. Spear and scimitar in hand they make sacrifices to their fertility gods for a large bounty. Under the light of the full moon they march out, tonight there will be a flesh reaping.

The skeletons return as the sun rises, their bounty contains in cocoons of grass and mud. The harvest bore much fruit this year, but it was not without loss, the bodies of the fallen skeletons carried home by family in sacks on their back, to never forget the burden of continuing their tribe.

As night settles in the grass cocoons are submerged in the ichorous pond in the centre of the village and large ceremonial pyres are lit. They will dance until midday, returning the dead to the ash we all come from, as they greet in open arms the youngest of their tribe as they emerge from the sacred waters.

The winter comes to Stableedpoison swamp, and it is time for the young to become adults. Each hopeful is given a ritual rusted scimitar and ramshackle wooden shield and is to set out for a cave or dungeon to find and slay an adventurer or traveller. Once returned with proof of their kill they will be accepted as adults. Not all will return from this journey, but those who do will help strengthen the tribe.

This winter is particularly harsh for the Stableedpoison tribe. A record cold season has frozen their ichorous pond of spawning, and wilted the plant life from which they craft their armour. As well hunters encroach on their lands. Clerics of the Golden Fist Church stalk the frozen swamps. Not content to merely destroy the members of the Stableedpoison tribe they adorn themselves in the flesh of animals to further infuriate them.

The noble hunters of the swamp must use all their cunning to defeat these flesh laden intruders.

The Golden First Clerics prove to be cunning but fallible quarries. Their initial underhanded tactic of smothering their flesh in metals proves at first to be difficult to overcome, in time however the poisons of the swamp prove to be too much. However this bleed shed does not sit well with the clan's adviser, Metalbones, who argues for peace. Eventually they set out on their own to meet with the Golden Fists to come to an agreement, hoping their position as neither fleshbearer nor bonekin will give them leverage.

The tribe itself prepares for war.

Talks reveal that the Golden Fist Church is here to stop the moonthly Flesh Reaping, a hallowed night for the tribe members of Stableedpoison Swamp. Metal-bones purposes an agreement where every full moon local villages bring out those no longer using their bones as tribute to the bonekin. Neither side is too pleased with the propitiation, but it gives the two sides pause to think and plan their next move.

It is the Golden Fist Church to first reveal their treachery. Summoning a being from beyond this world, what few clerics remain able to walk march on the Stableedpoison village. Fortunately the tribe elder was prepared, and calls forth their great protector, a gigantic bone dragon. The battle rages on for some time, but in the end the Stableedpoison tribe is victorious, but there is no celebration. Heavy losses, and the destruction of their ancient guardian alone would be enough to mourn but with the Spawning Pools still frozen none may join the tribe until this winter is over.

The aftermath of the attack continues to affect the tribe, their previous elder slain in combat its second in command takes lead and proves to be a paranoid traditionalist. Accusing the construct Metal-Bones of betraying them to its fellow 'Livings' they administer the worst punishment they could reasonably carry out on Metal-Bones: Exile. Striped of all markings the warforged is sent out into the frozen swamp lands, where it will likely continue to not require food or sleep and will reach the other side with no real hardship.

Back at the village the new elder sets about to thaw the ichorous pond through their own means, for the full moon draws close and this will be a flesh reaping for the ages.

As the full moon rises the entire tribe prepares for the harvest, none shall remain behind to prepare. Splitting into different groups the Stableedpoison tribe intends to regain numbers lost from the last attack. As they set out into the lit night it is not long until smoke and screams fill the air outside of the swamp, this will not be a night soon forgotten. As dawn falls onto the land the bonekin return home, carrying a bounty not seen in generations. their permanent smiles well deserved today as much greater numbers than normal also return home.

They will work tirelessly to prepare their birthing rituals, the pool finally liquid enough to use. The new tribe Elder receives much praise this day, as his reign promises much prosperity.

Once again, the young burst forth from the ichorous pond inside the Stableedpoison Village but the celebration has a dark cloud over it. while the next day is typically a day of celebration of new life this time instead to settle down to the tireless task of rebuilding. Fortunate that they can not tire as it will take them several days to simply restore the buildings to their formal glory, let alone new lodging for the young.

It does not remain bleak for long however, as new adults begin to return to the tribe in record droves. Free of the bitterness left from the Golden Fist Church attack the tribe has a chance to heal at long last.

There appears to be a rift forming within the tribe of Stableedpoison Swamp, as the young adults returning home are having difficulty to the changes that have gone on since the attacks. Many are unsure that is such a large reaping was a good idea, while others are not able to simply grieve over their losses due to the rest having moved on already. Tension is on the raise these days, as spectral blood metaphorically boils, it is only a matter of time before one of the young adults challenges the elder's right to rule.

One of the young adults seems to cultivating a following as they begin to openly challenge the Elder's rule. Adorning themselves in face paint to show their displeasure and calling for a new way forward. They have since abandoned the traditional rusted scimitar in favour for a weapon resembling a bulawa as a symbol of defiance, and is openly encouraging others to join them. The Elder of the Stableedpoison Tribe has taken note of this, but in the light of Angryface's popularity their choices of handling the situation are limited. Excile might start a rival tribe, and execution would could start open revolt.

After much conflict the one called Angryface has finally issued challenge. Surprisingly thereis not a lot of tradtion around such an event and they are forced to improvise. The terms are agreed to be a fight until deanimation with the winner serving as the new tribe leader. Both prepare themselves for a fight to the end while the Stableedpoison tribe prepares for possibly having the youngest Elder of all time.

The duel started at moonrise, in a stage above the spawning pool. The current Elder armed with shield and scimitar, while e young upstart Angry face is armed with buckler and bulawa. The fight is unexpectedly brutal, Angryface losing his shield arm just moments in but the advantage of his crushing weapon proves to be enough as the former Elder's head and chest easily cave in.

Drunk on victory the elder once known as Angryface dives into the ichorus pool wi the corpse of the form and emerges a changed being.

From the ancestral spawning pools rises an entirely new being. The one formally known as Angryface returns triumphantly now bear four arms and appears to be taller than before. At first they are greeted with apprehnension but soon the tribe accepts the rule of Four-Arms the Tyrant Slayer.

 As a new Flesh Reaping draws near, the new leader of the Stableedpoison Tribe orders restraint. The last reaping has produced so many juveniles that despite the larger numbers helping to rebuild, training for hunting, gathering, and spookery have slowed to a crawl. Instead, those who will go out for the harvest are ordered to follow restraint. Though some understand the wisdom in this, those who once backed the previous Elder claim it is a sign of weakness. None would would openly defy this new Elder, being an eight foot tall four armed monstrosity, but a new season of distrust is brewing.

Luckily as spring comes to Stableedpoison Swamp, the fear of the Golden First Church is finally dying down. Perhaps with external threats removed time can smooth over the bumpy past.

The spring remains peaceful for the Stableedpoison Tribe as they fall back into their normal cycle of training, hunting, and birth. Though not fully recovered, many feel safe once more. The search for a new guardian is a point of frustration however, as the once large lizards of the area have died off ages ago, and the creatures that replaced them are not nearly an impressive. As they resign themselves to thoughts of a small horde of bone crocodiles instead of their once proud bone dragon, a hunter in training comes running into the village square claiming to have found the perfect replacement. Lead back to a cave just outside of the swamp, looking to have been untouched by any being for an insurmountable time they discover what the young hunter spoke of. Bones of beasts none alive or otherwise have ever laid as on. Something so old, they don't even have words for them.

Four-Arms calls out in celebration, a new village guardian has been found.

The retrieval of the new guardian is slow moving. Despite the tribe's excitement, the task is proving more difficult than originally thought. The bones of such an ancient being requires them to be a level of delicate they are not accustomed to, as well as they are working outside of the swamp they much be careful while moving its bones typically only moving in the dark of night. Luckily things are otherwise quiet for a time.

When the new Flesh reaping comes, the tribe elder sends the hunters out to one of the flesh settlements reaped hardest. It is their hope that that will ensure another small harvest. Four-arms doesn't realize how small until none of the young hunters return the next day. 

The next night Four-Arms sends out a veteran band of hunters to discover the location of the previous party. Though some don't see the point of the search, assuming they have just failed in the harvest something does not sit right with their leader. It is not until the next day they begint o gt a glimpse of what is happening. One of the hunters returns, half mad, raving about a flesh bound shaman stealing the minds of the others. Through the flapping of his meat face and a have of his hands the other hunters turn one one another in a terrible fight.

A necromancer now sits outside of Stableedpoison Swamp. 

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