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Post by Insano-Man on Sept 21, 2018 15:36:58 GMT -5
This topic is partnered with Creatures: Monsters.ALMOST MAKES SENSESet is home to a great many flora, fauna, and fiendish abominations of science. While improbability and unlikelihood are common themes in the planet's biosphere, there are still a great many plants and animals living in thriving, straightforward ecosystems. Many are predators, prey, or something in between, chained together by logical interdependencies and relationships. Many are natural, plausible creatures, adapted to their surroundings and ecological niche. Some are even familiar; snakes, birds, insects, and fish straight from Earth have all found their way into food chains across Set. The following is a list, likely not exhaustive, of known plants and animals that fulfill coherent purposes in their food chains. These are separate from monsters, who do not fit any niche in their environments or exist without any explanation. This is an open topic.
If you'd like to invent a new animal type, feel free to post it here! Since Erf is a big, wide-open place, just about anything's possible. Go nuts!
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Post by Insano-Man on Sept 21, 2018 15:37:09 GMT -5
PSEUDOCRUSTACEANSPrevalence: High Dispersion: Everywhere Diet: Variable Reproduction: Variable Prominent Traits:- Warm-blooded - Hardened exoskeleton - High strength - Pincers - Large amount of legs - Fast birth rate, most reproduce via egg clutches - Preference for humid or aquatic environments - Often carnivorous or omnivorous Across Set, one of the most common forms of life is, to quote official stance by most Looney facilities, "an awful little crab monster that refuses to die." Crabs, lobsters, pinchers, scuttlebugs - they have many names, but only the formal title of "pseudocrustacean" has held on across the ages. Pseudocrustaceans exist in virtually every ecological niche across Set. They range from strikingly crab-like and plausible, to bear-sized flying scorpions that exist for no apparent reason other than sheer malice. Some even attain sentience - much to the detriment of everyone around them - and go on to rank among Set's intelligent species. The most common form of pseudocrustacean is the appropriately-named common snowcrab, a widely-dispersed genus mostly found in arctic regions. The common snowcrab is a low-lying creature loosely resemblant of a lobster, with a long, segmented body, six legs, and two prominent pincers at its front. Two additional, largely-vestigial pincers are present at the snowcrab's rear, near its reinforced tail segments. The snowcrab's eyes and mandibles rest inside of an armored hood at its front, along the sides of its long, recessed head. Six retractable antennae wrap around the snowcrab's mouthparts and extend past its hood, where they serve as its primary means of sensing its environment. The common snowcrab feeds on a variety of smaller animals or low-lying vegetation. Many are known to inhabit caves in small colonies, where they prey on mixtures of subterranean and surface animals. Hunting is often a communal effort undertaken by several snowcrabs in the same region. During a hunt, anywhere from two to forty-six will locate a food source for use as bait, then lie in wait around it by camouflaging themselves in the snow. When the bait is approached by a creature the crabs could overwhelm, they attack together. Smaller groups will attack with their pincers, while larger groups will use their combined weight to ram and crush their prey. Similar behavior, anatomy, and food selection are common in many other forms of pseudocrustaceans. Be it in sand, mud, gravel, or even rolls of fat in the meatscapes, Set's crabs are cosmopolitan life at its most extreme. Some even inhabit the depths of the Scuttler Slice, living in vacuum environments with limited food sources. Many forms of pseudocrustaceans share common ancestral roots to one or more major branches. Their hardy carapace, immense strength, and enormous reproductive cycles have all helped contribute to an incredible range across - and over - the planet. In many places on Set, the crab is king.
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Post by Insano-Man on Sept 21, 2018 15:37:25 GMT -5
LOGSTER CRABS
Prevalence: Low
Dispersion: Ventannen, Darimesa; Forests, Jungles, Meatscapes
Diet: Carnivorous
Reproduction: Live Birth
Prominent Traits:
- Pseudocrustacean.
- Chainsaw pincers.
- Attracted to loud noises.
- Resilient against meat infections.
There are some things that were never meant to be. Set does not care. Realms of meat, inverted gravity, lobsters with chainsaws for hands - if there is something that has no reason to exist, it is somewhere on Set. Logster crabs are one of those things - and they exist all over the Ventannen continent. They share many of the same common traits as other pseudocrustaceans, including an all-consuming drive to eat anything they can find. Despite their dispersion - and much to good fortune - logsters are both uncommon and slow to breed.
Logster crabs are similar to most other pseudocrustaceans. They have a hardy exoskeleton, tougher than most others of their kind, and a significant level of musculature to support it. They are carnivores under most circumstances and omnivores only when food is scarce. They perceive their environment through a mix of four conventional eyes and three sensitive antennae. They feature two pincer-capped claws and rest atop six legs, standing higher than most other pseudocrustaceans. They have a short, squat, bulbous body to compensate, usually coming in at no taller or longer than 3ft (0.91m). Compared with others, logsters appear more in kind with crabs than lobsters.
What distinguishes logsters the most are a handful of alterations to their behavior and pincers. They are accomplished ambush predators, able to blend in with rocks, tree carcasses, and even tumorous growths in the meatscapes. They are strongly resilient to disease and infection, even by the meat they often feed upon, and have a wider dietary range than most other pseudocrustaceans. They are capable of swift charges on unsuspecting prey, but suffer flexibility constraints from their exoskeleton. Resultantly, their ability to maneuver around obstacles or chase after agile prey is even more limited than other pseudocrustaceans.
The claws of a logster are covered in a row of hardened, edged spines running along the outer surfaces of each pincer. The spines are rooted in a long tract of muscle tissue, enabling them to vibrate rapidly as needed. While the spines do not rotate around the claw, the appearance is decidedly similar to that of a chainsaw, particularly when the claw is closed. Functionally, a logster's claws are identical; they are able to cut through everything from human flesh to living tree trunks. Much as with other pseudocrustaceans, a logster's pincers are its primary means of killing prey and manipulating its environment.
Alone, a logster's claw does not produce a sound like that of a chainsaw. The logster instead makes the noise itself. Most crabs give out a warning cry when attacking. As a result of their exoskeleton's acoustics, the cry sounds much like that of a gasoline motor throttling. Many align their pincers together in a defensive posture that causes their spines to rattle against eachother, further producing a sound similar to a chain running. Why logsters have developed in such a way to so precisely imitate a logging tool is a question that has gone unanswered for at least three centuries.
Logsters primarily hunt alone, but are instinctually drawn to loud noises. When a logster finds prey, it lets out its warning cry, alerting others to its location. Soon after attacking, other logsters swarm the area in a feeding frenzy, giving off their own cries. The sound produced by large gatherings can sometimes be heard for kilometers around and has often been compared to that of low-flying aircraft. After an ambush, a logster will often fell trees or other large objects in order to clutter the ground and create hiding spots.
Logster crabs are believed to have been first discovered by the Loonies of Camp Escobar, in the Mendit Wall. In around 1037 OSC, Escobar Loonies were in the process of deforesting a dense thicket that had complicated patrols in the area. Chainsaw-armed agricultural specialists and miners went to work felling trees and recovering the lumber over the course of a month. During this time, the noise of the work attracted the region's population of logsters. After a series of baffling and bloody brawls, the Loonies withdrew from the forest, redrew their plans, and returned to work with armed patrolmen at the site. Word of the incident spread to other bunkers and nearby towns. Soon after, the logster was recognized as a continent-wide species.
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Post by cotofconfusion on Sept 21, 2018 15:38:44 GMT -5
HUMAYDI
Prevalence: Low-Medium
Dispersion: Baclama Desert
Diet: Nutrients in the sand/water
Reproduction: ???
Prominent Traits:
-Really large
-Quadrupedal
-Looks oddly like a mushroom
-Stores water in its cap
-Appears to have no sensory organs other than a mouth
Appearing from the anomalous north 200 years ago, humaydi have been worshiped and lived on, becoming an integral part of Baclama life. The name itself comes from Suthi language, meaning traveler, which seems apt considering the humaydi never stop moving. Covering the distance of the average runner, humaydi trek endless migratory routes between Baclama's few water sources, storing the water in massive tanks above their stem.
The humaydi resemble the average mushroom, with the addition of four large, trunky legs and a 'mouth' (tentacles/roots measuring 3'-6') at its bottom. A humaydis stem generally reaches 20' in the air, while its legs give it an extra 5'. Its cap is located at the top, its diameter reaching 40' and its height being 5' directly above its stem. Its mouth skims the sand (or water, when its available) for nutrients, or to pump water to the humaydis mushroom cap, which is capable of carrying a large amount of water.
Many mysteries surround the humaydi. Does it reproduce? Where did it come from? Why doesn't it leave Baclama? Does it get enough energy from nutrients alone? None of these are completely known (if at all), and are subject to many theories and hypotheses. Over its 200 year existence, no one has seen one reproduce. No one's seen a baby, either. In the case of a humaydi dying, a few more pop up in the northern regions of Baclama. Which leads into the second question, the Suthi know the humaydi came from the north, but no one knows why it appeared there, or why there are no genetic cousins (except mushrooms, as some theorize). Food is another issue, it shouldn't be able to sustain itself off what it eats daily. This is due to, as some claim, photosynthesis or solar power, although no one has tested this theory. Lastly, the humaydi love the desert, and its not certain why. Humaydi are never seen outside Baclama, and on the rare chance that one is, it fanatically tries to get back, often times killing itself in the process.
Despite these questions, the enigmatic humaydi continue to trek across the desert in seeming unpurpose, and to the great delight of Baclama's residents who view the behemoths as either home, transportation, god, or all three.
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Post by Insano-Man on Sept 21, 2018 15:47:10 GMT -5
HARBOR SNATCHERS
Prevalence: Moderate
Dispersion: Ventannen, Patzaghd, Grusgau; Rivers, Shores, Jungles, Swamps
Diet: Carnivorous
Reproduction: Eggs
Prominent Traits:
- Pseudocrustacean.
- Small and light.
- Large pincers.
- Ambush predator; fast and agile.
- Favors shallow ponds, beaches, and river shores.
- Hoards miscellaneous items for nest material.
- Territorial; cannibalizes defeated rivals.
Set's got crocodiles and alligators all the same as Earth. That didn't stop the crabs from trying to fill their niche. Out near the docks, there's a sprightly little monster that's hungry for anklebones. They'll steal everything from loose ropes to stray toddlers. They're just about everywhere the water stays above freezing - swamps, beaches, jungles, and more. Most towns have their own nickname for them, but the one name that's stuck has been "harbor snatchers".
The name gets the idea across quickly. Harbor snatchers are ambush predators; they wait for a target, strike like lightning, and run off with whatever limbs they can wrap their claws around. They're small compared to other crustaceans, coming in at about 2'6" (76cm) tall, wide, and long - the classic crab. A puny set of four, spindly legs hardly dents the square profile. The best average at about 1' (30cm) extra. Exoskeletons stay slim, streamlined, and camouflaged to the environment. Weight usually doesn't peak over 60lbs (27kg). About half of that weight sits on their enormous, four-finger pincers - enough to grab a man by the thigh and split it clean off.
Just like any good crab, harbor snatchers will eat just about everything. Their favorite choice, as per their ecological niche, is meat. Living, squirming, still-bleeding meat. They'll eat humans, cats, crocodiles, and even other crabs, if the mood strikes them. It's not terribly unusual for them to indulge in a bit of same-species predation, either. Harbor snatchers don't like competition. If another crab encroaches on their turf, they'll enforce their authority at claw-point. No elaborate threat displays, no fighting for dominance - eat or be eaten is the crab's modus operandi.
Snatchers don't just grab food. They'll steal whatever they can get. Leave your wallet out in the open, a crab'll swipe it. Drop a gun in a shootout, it'll disappear before you can come back for it. Candles, candy, spears, and branding irons are all fair game. If the snatcher can carry it, it'll drag it off. All that trash and garbage ends up somewhere on the shore, in a messy little mound around a stack of eggs. The males do all the work; they pile up their loot, leave a bit of fertilizer behind, and wait for a female to lay her eggs in their junk.
Harbor snatchers are dangerous for small kids and old folks, but most people come to tolerate them. As problematic as they can be, they're a useful supplement to beachside communities. They offer a source of food that's hard to overhunt. Their shells make for decent construction materials - some towns have snatchers running around docks built out of their ancestors' bones. They keep dockside pests to a minimum and clean up any litter that's left behind. Some towns even keep them as sentries, like hard-shelled guard dogs. At the end of the day, harbor snatchers are still crabs, but there isn't the same kind of frenzied loathing most others get.
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Post by Insano-Man on Sept 21, 2018 15:48:34 GMT -5
RESKER'S CLAWFISH
Prevalence: Moderate
Dispersion: Ventannen, Zuhverl, Grusgau, Sadas Vitia; Grasslands, Forests, Hellscapes
Diet: Omnivorous
Reproduction: Eggs
Prominent Traits:
- Pseudocrustacean.
- Heavy exoskeleton.
- Extreme heat tolerance.
The classic pseudocrustacean with a fiery twist. Resker's clawfish aren't much out of the norm for lobsters. They're big, hardy, heavy, and strong. They're dumb as a sack of hammers and hungry enough to eat rocks. What sets the clawfish apart is how hot they can get; clawfish have been found wandering around in superheated slurries of molten rock outside bursting volcanoes. They've been found sucking down slag on the slopes of Sadas Vitia as the only things alive for miles around. People reckon they're even down there in Set's mantle, eating the planet's heart out. If there's one kind of crab that's after something spicy, it's the clawfish.
Resker's clawfish are only just a dint different from the norm. Their exoskeletons are dense, thick, and cumbersome - part of why they're impossible to kill with fire alone. They've been reported to shrug off low-velocity railguns with only the slightest bit of concussive shock. They've got extra legs to make up for the weight, each one a bit more muscular than usual. A long, hardy tail keeps them evenly spaced in the traditional lobster format. Clever hydraulic action inside their exoskeletons helps hold up all that weight and move blood through hard-stressed joints. Tans, reds, and the occasional crimson color it for its temperature range.
Oddly enough, the clawfish doesn't have much a reason to be as fireproof as it is. Most live in ordinary places, living ordinary lives, being ordinary lobsters. Most are in forests, occasionally scrublands, eating grass, raccoons, trees, and people. They swarm around in seasonal population booms around the summer, usually eating eachother just as much as they're knocking out towns. When they're found in hot spots, it's usually in small, stubborn families. No one's seen a clawfish underground yet, but not many think Set's caves are safe. A few Looney bunkers even have a collective bounty up on the Green Angel Array. If someone ever finds a clawfish underground, soaking in magma, someone's getting paid.
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Post by Insano-Man on Sept 21, 2018 15:48:57 GMT -5
GUABO'JAZI LASHERS
Prevalence: Low
Dispersion: Ventannen, Zuhverl, Grusgau, Patzaghd; Deserts, Savannah, Jungles
Diet: Carnivorous
Reproduction: Parasitism
Prominent Traits:
- Pseudocrustacean.
- Lightweight exoskeleton.
- Winged; can fly moderate distances.
- Barbed, prehensile tail.
- Enlarged pincers.
- Apex predator in most ecosystems.
Set isn't a nice place. Out in the desert, it's downright mean. If it's not for the sand, the heat, or the ghosts, it's the bear-sized flying scorpions. That's what a guabo'jazi lasher is; a lobster with wings, a pointy tail, and a short temper. They prowl that sweet spot between sundown and midnight, scooping up everything too small, slow, and stupid to get out of the way. They're the top of the food chain everywhere they exist. Ask a human, redworlder, or even another crab, they'll tell you the same thing. If there's anything that deserves to be called a monster, it's this.
Guabo'jazi don't fit the usual pseudocrustacean mould. They're made for flight, with tight exoskeletons and skinny bodies. Six of their eight legs are bound up together along their abdomens with fleshy, bat-like webbing. The remaining two are paired with their hefty pincer arms up at the front. Landed, a lasher sits with its tail up in the air like a scorpion curled forward. On the ground, most sit about 4' (1.21m) tall at their lowest side. Width usually comes out to a broad 4'8" (1.42m), with overall length at a whopping 14' (4.26m). The gangly proportions and thin exoskeletons keep their weight down at around 320lbs (145kg).
Lashers don't have much of the usual crab face. Their heads are twisted upside-down and partially fused to their torso's carapace. Six eyes look down and forward along the bottom, underneath a jawless mouth that opens up at the front. Two bushes of sixteen spiny antennae erupt from around the sides of the mouth like whiskers. A long tail ends in a tight, hardened spike made for the express purpose of gouging holes into flesh. Three-pincered claws are the norm, with extra muscle and barbed points to grab prey, hold on, and tear them to pieces. In a way, their claws are their teeth; lashers eat by ripping chunks loose from their food and dropping them down into their mouths.
"Guabo'jazi" means something like "night terror" in Qashanish, which is about how they go about their daily business. Colors match their hunting hours. Black carapace strikes a sunset contrast with pinks, oranges, and bright yellows on their flesh. Males usually trend towards pinks, females towards yellows. Both go about their business the same way. They wake up, either at sunset or sunrise, and go flying off towards the loudest source of noise or the strongest stink. They patrol around in a neat grid until they find something they can swipe. They don't waste any time when something turns up. They go straight in with claws and tail. They tackle the target, slice and stab it into submission, and steal it off to somewhere quiet.
Hungry lashers keep this up for as long the sun's down. Daylight hours are off-limits for all but the most desperate. After they've got enough food in their stomach or too much light on their hides, lashers go off to find somewhere to nest. They dig themselves into loose soil, sand, or gravel with their tails, usually in high places. Once they've gotten themselves covered up and concealed, they go to sleep until the next twilight hour. In areas with dense populations, males usually take the early shift at sunrise and go to bed early. Females dominate the nightlife.
Being a flying scorpion wasn't evil enough for the guabo'jazi. Instead, they had to take it up a notch with a side or parasitism. Reproduction starts just as soon as a female hits breeding age. At that point, an egg starts development in her tail, near the stinger. Once it's swollen to a certain size, the female finds something tasty, jams her stinger in it, and rips it off - usually by hand. The prey usually dies in the process. Males follow after at sunset, chasing pheromone cues in the tail left behind. They find the egg, leave a sprinkle of reproductive slime on it, and go about their business. The baby hatches some time later, eats the host, and grows up as a little sandcrab until it's ready to sprout its wings.
Guabo'jazi favor deserts for the open hunting terrain. A few breeds lurk around jungles and marshlands to take advantage of the excess of prey there. Most people on Set have a different name for them, but redworlders get the most exposure with them. Down near Naza's Prong, out where grey holds the majority, lashers are just about everywhere. They're problems for everything from nomad caravans, up to Space Looney landings. Major settlements usually have to contend with massed swarms in the summer months, chasing after the stink of society. Much to everyone's good fortune, the tiny handful of sentient lashers don't like to work together.
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Post by Insano-Man on Oct 7, 2018 7:33:12 GMT -5
WARD'S PALMS
Prevalence: Moderate
Dispersion: Ventannen, Zuhverl, Grusgau; Grasslands, Forests, Jungles, Swamps, Shores
Diet: Carnivorous
Reproduction: Fragmentation
Prominent Traits:
- Motile bush with bioluminescent branches; resemblant of a sea anemone in some cases.
- Strong circadian activity; different behavior depending on light level.
- Camouflages self and moves during daytime.
- Becomes luminescent and actively traps prey at night.
- Attacks large prey by ejecting parasitic insects.
Part bush, part beehive, all prankster. Out in the greener places is a patch of wandering shrubbery with a taste for flesh and an appetite for trickery. They play games at day, shuffling around while no one's looking. At night, they're pests, nuisances, and drunk traps, with a penchant for snacking on pets and stray kids. They live wherever there's damp soil and greens to blend in with. They go by plenty of names in plenty of places, but most people know them as Ward's palms.
Palms are somewhere between thornbushes and sea anemones. They're made up of a big bundle of leathery tendrils, with superficial knobbly edges to give them a branch's appearance. Most are colored in woody browns or tans, to pass themselves off as a dead shrub. At the end of each tendril is an edged thorn, used as both an antenna and a weapon. Inside each thorn's base is a small transparent bulb, filled with a bioluminescent fluid that emits a soft, greenish light. At their core is a little glob pockmarked with tiny holes, with their internal organs filling the space inside. The core is never much larger than 1' (30cm) in diameter, and their total weight averages at just 20lbs (9kg). Their tendrils usually grow to a maximum of 4' (1.21m), with around a dozen at 6' (1.82m) or longer to serve as feelers.
Inside the holes on their core is a colony of tiny, bee-like bloodsuckers, known cheekily as Ward's wards. The wards are symbionts that exist exclusively with the palms and reproduce alongside them. They nest in their cozy crevices until they're needed by their palm, occasionally slipping out for a spot of egg-laying mischief. The palm feeds on their feces, the wards get a safe place to sleep off their meals. As palms grow, so do their supply of wards, both in size and number. When the wards get too many or too big, they zip out and go hunting for a palm with better vacancies. If a palm ever runs out of wards, all it can do is pray; if others don't come to fill the void, it won't be able to produce anymore.
They're also the palms' primary means of predation. When a creature gets close enough for the bush to attack, it starts slapping with its thorns and shaking its core. The movement agitates the bugs, sending them out in a hungry swarm that's out for blood. They use the palm's waving tendrils as a target beacon and home in on whatever's got the most lights slapping at it. They stab in with tail-mounted probosci and draw in whatever bodily fluids they can get their hands on. Most eject a stew of septic slime from their gut before sucking in blood. Massed attacks can kill a small animal - or a small person - in as little as half a minute.
As soon as they've taken their fill, the wards head home to their hungry hive. The palm keeps at it until their prey stops moving or gives them the slip. If it's managed to get a kill, it wraps the fresh corpse in its tendrils. Digestive slime coating their surface starts to break down the body. Pores on the tendrils' surface absorb the nutrients and send it back to the digestive tract in the core. Insects and other finger food are typically sludged and slurped as soon as they hit the slime. Bigger bodies usually leave a nasty, half-digested mess behind.
Ambushes and feeding mostly happen at night. When night falls, the palms root themselves to the ground. They switch on their glow bulbs and gently wave their tendrils. Some palms even strobe their lights to emulate fireflies. For learned creatures, it's an obvious tell. For insects, the ignorant, and the intoxicated, it's a powerful lure. Most prey are small animals, like raccoons, snakes, and birds, with moths and other light-seeking bugs rounding out the rest of the palm's diet. Human-sized creatures usually don't end up as food, but stings and cuts are common wherever the palms are thick.
In daylight hours, the bushes change up their game. They turn off their lights and stop waving their tentacles. They hold them rigid in the air, letting the wind do the moving for them. They grab onto the ground with their strongest limbs and carefully drag themselves into a new position. Most palms are careful not to move too fast in high-traffic areas. Without watching them closely, it seems as if the local foliage is playing musical chairs every day. Likewise, palms usually follow after the strongest scent of life they can find. It doesn't always end well; smeared up against brewery walls, slathered up around outhouses, or just camped out in the middle of a road where a horse did its business.
Ward's palms reproduce through simple fragmentation. Their life cycle is just as simple. When a limb drops off, it starts growing a new core. It's not unusual for hedge-trimmers to come back the next day to find their shrubs sprouting little meat hunks. Once the core's finished growing, it starts sprouting more tendrils and secreting pheromones to draw in wards. Once it hits maturity, the core starts dropping off chunks of itself, at a rate of about once every three months. Under these circumstances, the core chunks usually have a small starter package of wards waiting with them.
Palms were supposedly named for a mythical character by the name of Ward, but every other detail of their identity has been lost to legend. Full name, hometown, gender, species - all anyone knows these days is the story. Ward was, as the story claims, their town's drunk, lost every night from their teen years and onwards in an alcoholic coma. Somewhere outside the town's walls, a glass siren was watching, learning every step of Ward's behavior. The siren took on Ward's slack face, their lack of balance, and their pungent vocabulary. Over the years, it came to emulate Ward perfectly.
When it finally tried to infiltrate the town, it fell into a rosebush and died trying to escape - too deep into the act to do anything more than flail. As the legend goes, the siren's remains poisoned the soil. The siren's soul infused itself into the bush - and it realized just what had happened to it. It wanted revenge. It corrupted the bush into something new. It tuned itself to the stink of the drink. It gave birth to more wicked things still, filled with its own lust for vengeance. Not many stories say whether the siren bush caught up with Ward. All that matters to most listeners is how familiar the villain sounds. Too much alcohol in your system and Ward's nemesis might just come looking for you - if you don't find it first.
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Post by Insano-Man on Oct 29, 2018 13:12:03 GMT -5
SAWCOONS
Prevalence: Low
Dispersion: Darimesa, Ventannen, Zuhverl, Grusgau; Plains, Grasslands, Forests, Mountains, Husklands
Diet: Carnivorous
Reproduction: Live Birth
Prominent Traits:
- Mammalian; furred, warm-blooded, and tetrapodal body plan.
- Long, spindly body, neck, and limbs.
- Firm webbing spanning gaps between limbs and head.
- Sharp talons on forelimbs.
- Solitary predator with limited sociability.
- Attacks prey by lunging and gliding from trees and other tall objects.
Somewhere down the road, Set decided it needed to put together a flying squirrel and a honey badger. No one's exactly sure why, and not a single person on the planet was happy with it, but the idea stuck. Since then, there's been a fuzzy monster terrorizing cattle, people, and passing trucks from the air. It's earned such a vicious reputation that most people think it's a myth. The rest know them by a small dictionary of spits and swears, but the one name that's gotten around best is the sawcoon.
The sawcoon was named for its resemblance to two things; raccoons and buzzsaws. Long limbs, a longer body, and an unbelievable neck length give it more the proportions of a bowl of pasta, but coloration is what sets it apart. The same colors and eye mask as Set's favorite scavenger sit over a pair of tiny eyes with a wide field of view. A mouth full of jagged teeth usually hangs open while the coon's at rest. Leathery webbing spans the space between their limbs and fuzzy tail. Black can-opener claws end each limb in sets of four, with the claws on the forelimbs being the most pronounced. Fully extended, most measure up to around 3' (91cm) long, with a 2' (61cm) wide wingspan. Average adult weight comes to 70lbs (32kg) in males and 85lbs (38kg) in females.
The visual comparison to a sawblade comes from the coon's teeth and its appearance while flying. The functional comparison goes a step further. Sawcoons hunt by climbing trees, houses, cliffs, or anything else they can find. They wait for prey to come in gliding distance, then hurl themselves off into the sky. Once airborne, they extend their limbs and glide in just the same as a flying squirrel. They aim for their target's neck on most strikes, but less confident coons might aim for their backs to make sure they can stick their landing. Most coons latch a claw on for their initial grip, then sink their teeth in for a tighter hold. After that, it's nothing but stabbing and slashing at everything in sight.
The sheer savagery a sawcoon can sling out in a strike is impressive. It's usually kept short and sweet, as well. If a coon can't bring its prey down within around five seconds of ripping and tearing, most jump off and run for cover. If they did enough damage in their attack, they'll follow their target until it bleeds out. Favorite targets are usually large animals with trouble defending themselves, such as cattle, sheep, and snoozing caravaneers. Some coons might grow up specializing in smaller prey, where the velocity of an airborne strike can be enough to decapitate hares in a single swoop.
Humans aren't preferred prey for sawcoons, but most travellers in northern Ventannen have at least one story of someone being attacked. As tall, conspicuous targets, sawcoons are naturally obliged to take a swipe at humans, redworlders, and similarly-statured sapient species. Most coons realize their mistake as soon as their claws sink in, and most victims are left more shocked than bloodied. Likewise, coons avoid stalking people they've savaged, even in the case of a serious neck wound. To date, there has yet to be a documented case of a sawcoon eating a human corpse, whether killed or scavenged.
Despite all that, sawcoons are feared and hated by traders and travellers of all walks. Most see cars, trucks, and wagons as prey. They glide in, usually pointed at the driver's seat or anyone else that's convenient, and take a swipe at the unsuspecting occupant before running off. Some dive off cliffs and fly straight through windshields. When they're not attacking the people in the vehicle, they're attacking just about anything else. For wagons and carriages pulled by horses or otherwise, sawcoons are the scourge of the skies. Regions with a heavy reliance on beast-drawn transportation sometimes have a small mercenary caste dedicated to fending off coon strikes.
Sawcoons prefer areas with wide plains and tall objects to scale. Forests beside plains and prairies are favorite locations. Cliffsides overlooking wide vistas are regular nesting grounds. Husklands and abandoned towns are occasional roosts, particularly free-standing ruins with long sightlines on flat land. Some coons are even bold enough to nest in the attics and roofs of inhabited towns. Some are even tolerated as pest hunters. As per their height-inclined nature, sawcoons are natural climbers, thanks much to their sharp claws. In much the same way, sawcoons are talented diggers, and usually nest in cliffside burrows or hollowed-out trees. Most make their homes alone, with large territorial coverage that excludes all others.
Reproduction for sawcoons isn't much different from other mammals of their stature. One of the curious qualities of it is their leapfrog mating dance. Males will swoop over females in heat, leaving a little pheromone trail behind. If the female takes interest, she'll clamber up to the nearest high point and do the same. This usually goes on for around two or three flights, occasionally with competing males trying to mix things up by making their own passes.
Sawcoon litters are born in batches of around 5-8 pups, after a pregnancy period of around ten weeks. Pups are born blind, deaf, and helpless. They're raised exclusively by their mother for around another ten weeks. After that, they either leave the nest or turn up as their mother's breakfast. Average lifespan for sawcoons is usually around five years in the wild, shorter in areas with heavy vehicle traffic or paranormal activity. Major pseudocrustacean populations can cause serious drops in sawcoon survivability, mostly related to hard landings on crab carapace.
Sawcoons were first documented by the Pioneer Network as far back as 300 OSC. Records suggest their population and dispersion were tiny footnotes compared to what they are today. A few small studies have suggested their numbers are still growing, but verified facts are tricky to come by. Their origins are an absolute mystery. Townies and drifters hold to a myth that's as daft as it is plausible. Out in the Knobbled Cutters, deep in a terrorscape, a raccoon was flattened by a Looney tank. Death being what it is in terrorscapes, the coon got back up and went back about its business. Soon enough, it learned to put its newfound status as mammalian paper to use, and started flying at passing trucks for revenge. It fostered a fresh generation of little two-dimensional coons to expand its operations. Eventually, the family started taking over Ventannen. The rest was history.
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