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Lifeforms of Caradesance

The lifeforms of Caradesance – Humans

Silence.

An empty page.

The absence of words.

The sound of someone being slapped. A trivial muffled argument began between two comrades. Which was followed by yet another slap. Both goblin and fourth dimensional butcher had been forced together by circumstance-

[Get out of the chair and stop writing!]

{No!}

[I’ve had enough of you.]

The goblin slapped the butcher once more. The hand collided with his face, leaving behind a dull ache. The goblin flexed his physique, as he prepared to lash out once more-

[Stop writing and step out of the chair.]

The goblin whacked the defenceless butcher. Vin tried to rip both submerged hands from the red crystalline goop.

{Which forms the words you’re reading, by a means of goblin magical technology, and some heavy amounts of thick black builders-tape.}

Mister Roge struggled-

[I am Vin Attorn, and I was once a hob-goblin of the slowest order. Now I am but a humble goblin watcher of time and space. As we travel together through the multi-dimensional universe, I once more return to the most backwards planet in the whole cosmos.]

Pause. The sound of rustling as something metallic is thrown away. The crunching sound of fried potato slices.

[Sorry. I hadn’t yet eaten my breakfast.]

Pausing once again.

Complaining in the background.

I lash out for the sake of quietness. Glad that I did so.

[Today, we are going to start our journey on the continent of Britstana. Where life is a little less primitive, and has been roughly moving forward at the pace of a giant space turtle. So I would like you to sit back and relax. As I take you on a tour of the so-called intelligent races of Caradesance, with me Vin Attorn.]

[In what I’m calling the lifeforms of Caradesance.]

We are beginning our journey at the seaside. A beach that is between two large cliffs of volcanic stone. Ocean worn pebbles and rocks, scatter the half a mile long local resort in large round or ragged black stone. Whilst a bank which leads up to the village has the most splendid summer flowers. Causing those walking down to the rocks to sneeze.

The mid-day sun is high in the sky. Which is bringing the almost hairless homo sapiens out of their crude round stone buildings. Like many intelligent beings across the multi-verse, these hairless apes tend to live in family groups. Finding a strange comfort in conforming to hierarchal obligations, that they tend not to share around.

[In the animal kingdom an important factor to life is would be predators. Forming large packs or herds discourages these hunters. Keeping not only kin alive but allows larger amounts genetic information to be past along, and allows for greater numbers of sustenance to be found.]

[Humanity has over the course of its evolution developed away from the herd mentality. Forming a stronger family bond than others of the animal kingdom. Although their bond only keeps its own members safe, whilst ignoring those outside the group, unless it’s to their obligations.]

[This animal desire to stay safe is what holds the Thatcher family together subconsciously. As they live along the north-eastern coastline in the small village of Nix. Their names for the record are Mic and Debra Thatcher. Both mother and father Thatcher have three children by the names of, Derk, Din, and Darren. Other than that, nothing else about them is in fact important. They’re but a grain of sand amongst billions.]

Their children, like every other red-haired child on the rocks, are throwing small stones into the water. Deb, screaming at them all to stop behaving like fools, is still standing on the costal walkway off the rocks just before the bank amongst a collection of mothers. Unpacking food from a straw basket, Mr. Thatcher, with a smile on his face, took a sip of local ale from his tankard whilst sat on the pier laughing with the other fathers.

[As we watch the beachgoers, I must note that while nothing can hurt our humans whilst they are on land. There are things which lurk in the water that shouldn’t be so easily forgotten about. And I am not just on about the undercurrents.]

Laying beyond the rocky beaches out in deeper water are four large manic prandial fish. Swimming around their children, the adults are following the vibrations in the water. Slow-moving underwater patterns which allow them to find their food, and are given off by anything in the water.

[Named after their sweet, tasty, highly sugared flesh, and their obsessive collective nature. These fish are more related to the lobster than a tuna. Although thanks to the magic of Caradesance you would think they were five-foot-long fish. Armoured, and armed with pincers where some fish might have a neck fin, an adult prandial is the deadliest hunter of the ocean.]

This collection of manic prandial is also a family unit. As they glide through the water they’re searching for schools of tuna. Having been brought close to the shore by new vibrations in the water. The adults are still unsure about the situation. Thus mother, and father prandial, are keeping their two young close to them. Swimming circles around them whilst they sniff the water currents.

A splash happens at the edge of the water moving outwards, the pattern that reaches them only takes a few seconds for them to register. Knowing that it’s different from the inconstant vibrations they’d been following, all the members of the family unit begin to slowly move towards the shore.

They smell their dinner option as an underwater scent reaches them. This new scent to the younger members is a pleasant surprise. An opportunity for the younger prandial to eat meat that they class as rare.

[And this is something neither of them can pass on.]

The two juvenile prandial do not wait for permission. Both shoot off through the water, as fast as their immature fins let them.

[To live and to eat to the prandial are the same thing. They have permission to live, so they have the right to hunt. And hunt they will do.]

[And that internal nature of the magical not-a-fish, is what has kept them alive throughout the ages. Each armoured fish is born knowing that they must eat, need to swim, and must give-in to the urge of mating, so that they can survive.]

With a speed that would beat the extinct moor-panther, the younger two-foot-long animals begin swimming towards their prey gaining speed. Within moments, they’re close.

[No one has spotted them.]

Derk, the youngest Thatcher child, was playing in the water. Being only six-years-old, the smallest child is ignoring what the adults have always told him about the ocean.

Because he now knows his brothers are no longer paying him any attention, after glancing at them. The child walks a little further into the swallows to splash around some more. Derk’s grin widens, as he begins to enjoy his day at the beach. The small child playing didn’t understand what all the fuss was about.

[The fuss though is about to become apparent to Derk.]

He hears screaming from his mother, who is now running towards him almost tripping on the rocks. Waving back, the child continues to splash in the water. His father jumps off the pier, and begins running through the knee-high water, ignoring all danger to himself. Still, the boy, splashing in the salt water, is ignoring all the warning signs.

Both adolescent prandial could feel the secondary lighter vibrations travelling through the water. But their focus is on lunch. Because they’ve committed themselves to this hunt, nature takes over.

[It is now, hunt, or stave. That is how the animal kingdom works from their limited perspective.]

The larger of the two glides out in front, jumping at the child the first chance it gets.

[If you were to observe this in slow motion, then you would see twenty thin legs unfolding out of the very skin of the creature. Alas, there is no way to show you this. And it does happen quite fast.]

The creature, ignoring the crying defence mechanism of its prey, draws closer on its elongated, spiderlike legs. Crawling along the rocky beach, and struggling to breathe, the eldest of the two prandial is now close enough to swipe with its larger pincer.

[It barely misses the young boy, but whilst the animal knows it has used the wrong tactic. The creature knows also that it must now retreat. That is if it wants to hunt again. Every cell in its aquatic lungs is now screaming that it must hurry back into the water.]

The smaller of the two predators waits until its brother is in full retreat.

[It uses its siblings’ failed attempt. Noting distance and speed. Which is all the animal needs.]

The fish launches itself from the water with all twenty legs unfolding. One second is all it takes, for the prandial youth to begin pulling the miniature human into the ocean. As it does so, the fish knows nothing of the rocks which are bouncing off its armour. All the prandial perceives is that the prey appears to give itself over without a fight. Dragging the child deeper into the water, the fish begins to drown its food before the family shares in the hunt.

[Whilst on the shores of the beach, life is now changing for the family. They are suffering the greatest loss possible in the circle of life, and they must adjust to this new reality.]

[Next time on the lifeforms of Caradesance. We will be going to the natural home of the trolls. High in the valleys of the mountains of Mist, where these most interesting intelligent beings are forced into manual labouring roles.]

Laying beyond the rocky beaches out in deeper water are four large manic prandial fish. Swimming around their children, the adults are following the vibrations in the water. Slow-moving underwater patterns which allow them to find their food, and are given off by anything in the water.

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