They were once a dozen tribes, but their people are now a culmination of survivors. They converged into one last large community due to the butchering of their people during the monster/tribal revolt. These survivors are a warrior, engineering, and scholarly society; culturally, everything they believe is tied to these three valued pursuits. The goatkin are a genderless hierarchy. They are taught to venerate the soil from a young age, that all things are inherently stone. As a result, they revere rocks and believe them to possess "powers and influences." Their religion is centered on the notion that people are made up of tiny pebbles; they see that the world as a round giant boulder with a magma turtle sleeping within the hollow center. These spherical earthy shells are floating in nothingness, and that the sun is a burning slab their world orbits.
The goats know of magnetism, deeming it to be rocks attracted to one another; gravity is the weight and size of the boulder pushing down on an invisible sheet that's intangible. There is a potent force in which angry rocks ingest and radiate energy and heat while sorrowful rocks repel. On the other side, a brittle force where the mass and size of the slab determines its weight and, to an extent, density. The tribe also sees magic as non-rock forces, interacting with stones that allow the pebbles and boulders to be manipulated, communed with, and even contaminated depending on the intent and influence of the one wielding it. The genesis of life is taught to have come from a racing pebble that entered our world and crashed. From this collision, the origins of being started from a pure lesser state (cobble), ultimately becoming a more complex state (boulders). The goatkin have a zest for astrology; they see stars as distant glistening crags and gems reflecting the light of their nearby burning boulders like a polished stone, tracking its journeys across the heavens, telling seasons, time, and direction. They believe the twinkling of stars to be the spinning or wobbling of these terrene masses.
They reside within cities carved into the mountain and belly of the earth; they fancy mining, studying the stones and engineering. Mastering math to count and trade rocks, building a commerce system around bartering the priceless gems they uncover. They have their language and bizarrely written dialect; few of them can read the words of the standard races. Accumulating their technological advancements, as all members swear never to disclose their existence, lest it brings the ire of more jealous races upon them. At the age of five, their kids are forced to traverse the 88-degree cliffsides; if they stumble and get hurt, they are left to deteriorate and expire. Within their mindset, it implies the crags have rejected their merit as a goat. By the age of 16-21, a goat endeavoring to contest or apply for leadership must undergo a pilgrimage. Those with the best story are deemed the most esteemable and conferred more authority and influence.