The Legend of the Pig

In a time both before and after so many histories, there lived family of three brothers; all fishermen.  At the passing of their parents, each went to build his own house in his own way, and to consider life and other things.  

One, the eldest, lived within a forest in a quiet, leafy hut, and in a clearing at the edge of this forest their village lay, comfortably nestled in marsh and shallow waterways; each calmly finding it's way to a coast of cool, damp sand and the ocean beyond.  

Within this most miniature of deltas and even without, life was abundant.  From northern mountain rains were rivers formed; feeding vast swamps and marshes and many forests as they bifurcated again and again on their way to those pleasant beaches.

It was at one of these beaches that the second brother built his own house of driftwood; a fishing shack, if anything, but he was a fisherman, as were the rest.

Such silt was swept to the delta that the village was well-fed by sea life of many kinds; and it's people traded often with their neighbors, who grew fruit and grain farther inland, and it was inland that the third and youngest brother lived; in a simple house made of mud bricks.

The region enjoyed a cool equatorial climate; an ancient climate that no longer exists...

 ...for this village and it's marshes and it's forests stood at the edge of a vast, wild continent that has been forgotten as it was in those days; and yet it endures in our modern world. 

Even now you may stand atop the history of this very tale, immersed in the scales of it both large and small, if you but endeavor to tread upon the continent of Antarctica; or Hamberg, as it was known to our mentioned family at the time, for this is the history of BSP3: 

Youngest of three brothers, oldest of three brothers, and the longest-lived pig.