The large body of knowledge about the breed of horse men, known as
Centaurs, is largely incomplete. To the best of my knowledge, they survive
in small villages, which are easily transported from place to place upon
their own backs, as they search for food during the harder months of the
winter. Nomads, truly, with their own ability to travel great distances
built into their hybrid bodies. A wonder of nature, I am sure you will
agree.
During my time with them, only after having earned their trust over a period
of several months, they often spoke in terms of reverence towards anything
related to ordinary magic. The mystic, has certainly claimed their
imagination, as they told me their oral history around fires on the plains
during the night. As with all such simple tribes, they included the stars
in their mystical dreams, speaking often of the time to come and that which
lies ahead. Although, I was given a place to sleep and succor as they
traveled, even given leave to sit astride one (which rarely happens, a fact
we shall come to in a moment) they would not speak to me of that which lies
ahead. Only saying, that it would come as well things do, when it was its
time.
The Centaur themselves are fearless and often taciturn, saying much with
only a few words. Often stubborn and rarely cooperative with other races,
if you have their trust they are loyal to a fault. In my own case, I was
able to save a few foals with some barely remember knowledge of calving from
my youth. A memory well used, I should say, as they immediately took me
into their fold. It was this moment that allowed me the great pleasure of
being granted a ride atop one of these majestic animals, who I must say, are
far easier to ride then their distant cousins, the horse, who they look upon
with disdain. I viewed this as somewhat odd, considering their own
physiological construction. Upon questioning though, they would only say
that the pack beasts had not viewed the stars.
Excerpt from the beasts of Thera, Scribed by Trikokenon Usuron the
Historian
