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Behold!!! The Pigbat
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Disordered Thoughts and Curmudgeonly Ramblings
Wyrms resemble muscular snakes about two metres long with trilateral body symmetry. They have three nostrils on top of their heads, three eyes, three mouths (although two are vestigial) and three finger like organs at the end of their tails. They have a substantially higher level of metaphysical (psionic) potential than humans.
Making things weirder they can shape-shift at will into a humanoid form that could probably pass as human on a dark night. When they shift they start out completely hairless, with no toe or finger nails, and with fish-belly pale skin and lips. Hair (including eyebrows and eyelashes) and nails grow in at a normal rate, but their skin (including their lips) darkens rapidly based on how much UV exposure they get. A humanoid Wyrm can jump three places on the Monk Skin Tone Scale in the course of one sunny day.
Wyrms in humanoid form have no external genitals, and no secondary sexual characteristics. Their skeletons are completely different to those of humans, resulting in their movement appearing ‘wrong’ to humans. A Wyrm visiting Earth typically uses a combination of prosthetics, makeup, specialised movement training and a lot of sunscreen to blend in.
The origin of the wyrm shape-shifting ability is disputed. Most researchers consider it to have been present prior to the Cataclysm (c4,800 BCE), but a vocal minority theorise that it developed as a mutation in the post-Cataclysm environment. A further minority theory posits that it was created via genetic engineering during the wars that led up to the Cataclysm.
Conversely a number of stories and folktales that can be dated back as far as 1,300 BCE claim that shape-shifting was taught to the Wyrms by a race of “pig-bats”, although no information is provided on exactly what a pig-bat may be. It has been pointed out that the phrase “pig that is like a bat” in ancient Aɞrwɓ̥1 (a post-Cataclysm language spoken on the Northern Continent) is pronounced similarly to another phrase that can be interpreted as “dimensional exile”, although this is considered nothing more than a coincidence by most linguists and historians.
Herein follows a list of strange and random phrases that my brain has accumulated from sources both common and obscure over the many years it has been operating in this, the most irritating of all worlds.
At any given time it’s a fair bet that at least one of these rubrics is bouncing around inside my skull, getting in the way of my pretense of being any kind of normal or functional human being (and if it’s not one of these it’s likely a quote from The Simpsons).
Shall we duel with death machines?
That’s as may be, but it’s still a frog.
God. It is Danzig!
Stick. Your ass. Up. A pole. Today!
GO you big red fire engine!
I HATE CWAZY PEOPLE!
May I beg the thanks of Birmingham?
As a goat releases milk!
DROOM! DROOM! DROOM! DROOM!
Bread is good for you.
Oh, what a simply ghastly place!
Teenagers with automatic weapons and boundless love.
Lamb-in-a-basket!
Tanned Legs.
Soup! Soup! Soup! Soup!
Why do you do it? POWAH!
Tabouleh no good for me!
Like a TIGHA!
I just didn’t think you were ready!
He promised me marriage!
My hypothesis is gone to the devil!
Excuse me ladies. You’re scantily clad and have nothing to do with the narrative. Therefore it’s sexist.
Morgan Morgan founded Morgantown.
Minnehaha has been checking her urine!
You. Accuse. Me?
Bloody wolves chasing me through some blue inferno!
Corn! Rich! Luscious! Nauseating Corn!
Predator bird!
I’m MC Horse and I’m here to say, my two main lines are rope and hay.
Why would a cephalopod have a skeleton?
I’m a horse, I’m a horse, I’m a grumpy old horse.
Doom! Doom! Take us all!
Obviously!
GHOST!!!!!! GHOST!!!!!! GHOST!!!!!! .?
Give me liberty or give me death or feed me!
There are many excellent skin products you can use.
I’m a bat-pire,
Turn into a rat-pire,
Drink blood till I’m fat-pire,
Lioncourt Lestat-pire,
I’m a fang-pire,
Nosferatu clan-pire,
From the rafters hang-pire,
Classic monster gang-pire,
I’m a Vaaaaaaampire
BLEH!
*pipe organ solo*
The Chihuahua dogs got me! Which is to say that my very first effort to do some maintenance and upgrades has resulted in the Wyrmlog being inaccessible for large chunks of the last few days.
That particular problem has been dealt with. Please expect more problems to follow.
I’m warming up to making some much needed fixes and upgrades to the old Wyrmlog, so don’t be too alarmed if it suddenly vanishes, looks weird, or turns into a chihuahua dog appreciation site.
Well maybe that last one…
One of the strangest known sapient species of Local Probability are the beings known as Goatsuckers or (by those who find the name undignified or unpleasant) Caprisugiformes.
The body of a goatsucker resembles a sucker from an octopus or squid’s tentacle, made of a firm, white jelly, standing about a metre tall. A tail of coarse white hair, somewhat similar in form to that of a horse, extends from one side of the body, and a flexible neck of what appears to be cartilage extends from the opposite side. On the end of the neck is a head of what appears to be bone, strongly resembling an elongated goat skull with horns and prominent teeth. A blue glow is present in the eye sockets.
Goatsuckers possess prodigious metaphysical abilities, casually performing feats of telepathy and telekinesis that would tax the abilities of even the most talented practitioners of other species. While the upper limits of their abilities are unknown there is a famous instance of a single goatsucker telekinetically demolishing a four story brick building and neatly stacking its sorted components 350 metres away in under ten seconds, while apparently expending no particular effort to do so. Performing such a task in such a short period is considered impossible for even a skilled and practiced team of non-goatsucker Metaphysicians, let alone a single practitioner.
The biology and society of the goatsuckers is little known as they typically respond to enquiries about such matters with polite but firm refusal. They are not known to eat or drink and do not seem to possess the anatomy to do either. They do not appear to breathe, although some form of passive respiration cannot be ruled out. They do not possess organs of speech, but easily communicate via telepathy or telekinetic sound production. It is unknown if they are vulnerable to any weapons, as all known attempts to harm a goatsucker have been met with the instantaneous deployment of ludicrously powerful telekinetic shields.
Goatsuckers do not appear to have gender, or even a concept of gender – although some have adopted gendered pronouns to ease interaction with gendered species. The closest they seem to come to a concept of personal names is the use of adjectives – when asked for a name a goatsucker may reply with something like ‘fearsome’, ‘maximum’, ‘intelligent’ or ‘green’. This has lead to the practice of formally referring to individuals as “The [adjective] Goatsucker”, a practice the species seems to be entirely content with.
Their home world – generally referred to simply as ‘Goatsucker’ – is an arid planet of plains, deserts and salt flats with one small, saline sea. The goatsuckers live in tunnel complexes, but the social structure – if any – of these settlements is completely unknown.
Despite their overall strangeness and frankly terrifying levels of metaphysical power the goatsuckers are seen as a benign and on occasion even helpful species. There is not a single record of hostile action from a goatsucker, and all occasions of attempted harm against them have been instantly and calmly neutralised, with no attempt at retaliation. A number of goatsuckers have joined the Metaphysicians Guild, and have served on various government and private bodies throughout Local Probability, although their reasons for doing so remain completely unknown.
1: It was pretty much inevitable.
2: It will not make anything better in any way.
3: I’m ashamed to say there’s a part of me that’s sorry he missed.
4: It’s Richard Simmons I feel sorry for.
Why’d I make so many sons I called Primarchs?
And why aren’t half on my side?
Konrad has visions, and Magnus illusions,
And Corvus just likes to hide,
Guilliman’s anal, the Lion loves secrets, and Vulcan is really tall,
Someday I’ll finish my webway connection,
And then I can dump them all,
Got a migraine late on Sunday night so emailed work to say I’d be late in the morning, took a big handful of pills, switched off my alarm and went to bed.
As a result I ended up on the 10:07 Fremantle train from Perth and was privileged to witness a most impressive performance by a young man slapping out a beat on his legs while loudly snarling out rhymes in a very credible metal voice.
“…GIVING HEAD! GIVING HEAD! WANKING OFF THE MIDNIGHT DEAD! EVIL! EVIL! LAND OF MISERY!…”
Let’s face it, that’s better than anything released by Metallica in decades!