Black Craft Worm

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Artwork by unknown Black Craft Worm Note: This creature can only be played by Event Team-Members.

History

Whilst meandering through Aeroch’Nor I came across a small gathering of villagefolk who publicly mourned the disappearance of two youngsters and their mother. They claimed that upon their victory over the Shrek and his Orcs they had began a celebration. In their hype the children had ran off into the moors outside the walls to play wherein their mother followed after learning of their linen-ruining adventure. The villagers wrapped up their story with an ominous quiet the moment I had asked them why they hadn’t been searching for them that very moment. And to my dismay, I had received an even shorter story that was even more disturbing. “We don’t go into the swamp at night, and it’s always night,” said a boy of meager stature. We all silently glanced up to the ash-clotted sky and gave a unanimous frown.

As the mildly adventurous, albeit scholarly type I am, I had awaited their dispersal and promptly hiked into those fetid depths out back with my journal and pen in my satchel -- and might I add a fair share of luck, too -- and some defensive tools. I probably shouldn’t have, however had I not then I’d be lacking this entry altogether.

After a slow trudge through the sooty hell of dark water and mud, I came to a declining hill that sloped down into a murky valley, pockets of stagnant water splattering the view with their dank odor taking to the air with an accompanying glaze of mist. Although having made a decent way into the swamp, the fields outside Aeroch’Nor were still in sight. And with that sight came a galloping doe and two fawns. I have to admit I was a bit worn of from the march and decided to rest, watching the three make their way towards the swamp through a trail of swept tallgrass. In their swift prancing it took no time for them to dip into the fog and disappear, one by one consumed by the wall of white that permeated the waters and all went quiet. Moments passed before I heard a few splashes of water; ‘shpshp-shpshp’, one deer. ‘Shpshp-shpshp’, two deer. And that was it. There were a few more noises of hooves dislodging from deep mud, and then more splashes. ‘Shpshp-shp…’ It went short. With my eyes locked on the exiting edge of the cloud, nothing came. I rocked up to a stand while jotting down notes, intrigued by the deer’s apparent disappearance. I figured it best to wait and observe, and as fate -- or Eshtael -- may have it, it began to rain. With the downpour so too came down with the fog and the white blots fell. At the time I was quite absorbed with what may show itself from the mysterious, pearly mist but was horrified with the results and later even more absorbed.

From the clearing stretch of swampland below, disrupted and ‘cleaned’ by the deluge, showed something I’m still not sure I’d like to see again. In one pond laid a fallen doe, its legs twisted in terrible directions with protruding bones and ripped, bleeding muscles. Just a few paces down the way were the two fawns, each bloodied and contorted in awful ways. Hunched over the two fawns stood a gnarled shape, a frame composed of humanoid bones strewn with waterlogged flesh and muddy vines. Putrefied parts of other critters were mashed into the collection, including deer antlers and a crushed sheep skull. The creature’s posture was the most disturbing of all; its limbs were majorly limp, although thick, pale tentacle arms of flesh wrapped around the body, directing the motion of its extremities. Whatever central mass controlled the beast was obscured within the ribcage, as all of its vile tendrils fed out from it. Nonetheless, for such a visually unsettling and weak-seeming being, its movement was vicious and cruel. The monstrosity dove onto the nearest fawn, the beast’s chest flaring open to reveal a grizzly display of tentacles and teeth. It clashed with the body to submerged it into the waters. Moments after its dive, two new figures popped out from the waters, each dredging themselves out from the mud and murky pits. With dripping bodies they hurled themselves onto the mangled deer, sinking them into the deep.

While captivated with the strange creatures’ antics I hadn’t noticed the faint footsteps behind me, only taking to a sudden stand after a very low hiss. I leaped up from my seated position and span, tugging my sword from my side in turn. In place of where I sat laid a thick, sharp thigh bone of a troll. It was attached to a pearly, drenched skeleton made out an assortment of animals and swamp vegetation. I stared at it, sword held high and ready to strike, whilst the sluggish being retracted its limb. A pale tentacle caused the motion, it wound around the skeletal arm with a manner of might. Having not wanting to risk damage to myself, I sharply brought my blade down upon the arm of the slow beast. It wasn’t much of a challenge to cleave off the limb, rending it from its socket as with the tendril which controlled it. A shrill scream erupted deep from within the chest cavity of the monstrosity and it whipped around, shambling down the hill and making a quick path towards the nearest deep pond. It dove in without grace and disappeared into the water. I was stunned at the lack of determination by the creature. Maybe it was part of its behavior? Potentially it was an animal that set traps or ambushed rather than battled. Nonetheless it was gone without great effort, its sundry arm of marrow ditched at my feet.

I was in disbelief; not for finding such a rancid-wreathed beast in a swamp, it is expected, but for the nature of its being. This was no feat of Necromancy but some form of parasite that rode a carriage of its kills. Had these creatures never been encountered before? Native to Vailor and unforeseen? I must find more about this Black Craft Worm and hopefully with my life intact.

Habitat

Near mucky mires, miserable moors, muddy meadows, and marooned monadnocks. (In other words they live in the watery world of prose -- praise alliteration! I’m so funny please laugh.)

Description

A mass of three (larva) or five (adult) thick, fleshy, muscular tentacles that merge together at a single multi purposed orifice which resembles a crab’s mouth and a spider’s underbelly. The transformation from three to five arms is a form of metamorphosis taken place in the pupa stage; the auctor entombs itself inside a fresh corpse, submerges it into water where it sticks itself down with mud, and secretes a pasty gel from its mouth that hardens into a shell which protects it while evolving.

The auctor is capable of expelling a series of other substances, including:

• a glue-like adhesive which it uses to bind together its carriages

• a venom that will progressively paralyze its victim

• a pale mist which closely resembles fog, however it lingers longer and feels heavier

Its life cycle and behavior proceed as follows:

• The auctor hatches from a thin-skinned egg among a potential brood of one to four, each egg laid within its own corpse.

• The auctor feeds off of the corpse and continues to eat at least two more, being provided bodies by its mother.

• Once fully fed, the auctor ventures out of the water for the first time with its own carriage and finds a fresh body to inhabit.

• After locating a corpse to hijack, the auctor brings it into the water and sinks it. It sticks the body down with mud and crawls into its center to pupate.

• The auctor sheds its shell and host to reveal its adult form.

• It proceeds to devour more corpses and once of appropriate size and age the auctor creates a valley of cadavers underwater and lays eggs in the bodies it has collected.

• The known lifespan of adult auctors is around 100 years at the very most.