Archaeology Journal, Day Five.
Professor Artill Dougris
Moon: Waxing Cresent
Wind: 8 mph, eastwesternly (*1)
Sky: Green Tinted
Time: 19th mark of the Imperial Sundial
Several days after discovering the remains of these creatures, Jorrings has still not reconstructed a single specimen. Though much, and somewhat heated debate has ensued during his meandering process. Some see these creatures as savages, I among them. I think the evidence to that is rather clear from the teethmarks on the bones, which as previously described match the teeth of the humanoid specimens discovered. Though inconclusive, the evidence points to cannibalism. Which as pointed out by a colleague is perhaps not enough to call these creatures twisted barbarians. On the other hand however, given how their bones seemed to have been reshaped and, in fact, twisted literally by some process, and cannibalism is indeed barbarous, until more is learned, I shall maintain my position. It just now occurred to me that this is also the likely cause behind the slow progress on reconstructing a skeleton. Perhaps I will lend Jorrings a hand next dawn.
Archaeology Journal, Day Six.
Professor Artill Dougris
Moon: Waxing Cresent
Wind: 0 mph
Sky: Green Tinted, light fog
Time: 8th mark of the Imperial Sundial
I decided not to help Jorrings after all. I was swiftly reminded how insufferable the process of reconstructing altered skeletons can be and I was rather reminded of the Bone Wars of my younger years (*2), let the young and enthusiastic, and Jorrings, handle this task. I myself have a more interesting task at hand. Earlier this morn there was a small rockslide on a nearby cliff face, and some of the hardy vegetation clinging to the rocks above has cascaded down, and I have been tasked with cataloging the rather unusual plants. Though I do fear, given the manner in which they became available to study, little of note could be discovered.
Time: 14th mark of the Imperial Sundial
I do indeed find myself in a most deplorable and pitiable state. While several species were located among the rubble, near all have been battered to bits. And so too I have come to join Jorrings in what is now, oh so lovingly being referred to by my most esteemed colleagues, as the "shit job tent." Though crass the title may be, it is woefully accurate. To see these once hardy plants reduced to but woodchips and green mush, well, it saddens my heart most solemnly. Which is further compounded by my proximity to Jorrings, who while nice enough, tends to whistle insufferably as he works. And, as mentioned previously, I have in my many years hence my birth, come to know the power of bones all too well. I shall commence and complete my task as quickly as possible, lest the shakes begin to return to these old hands.
Species One: Bonsai Cliff Hanger (Scientific Name Pending)
While it is certain that this species has no direct familial relationships to any found upon the Old World, perhaps some similarities could be drawn from the Isles of Iskravarak, a small yonwild island in the hinterseas of the Empire. It is hardly a place any would wish to visit, and I only had the misfortune of going there once on a similar expedition into the swampy mountains of that wretched isle. And while my task now is unrelated to the swampmuggins we studied hence, the vegetation of the craggy mountains, if one could call those lumpy protrusions from the soupy muck of the lowlands "mountains", did indeed display similar adaptations to the specimens brought before me now. Though I doubt anything more than convergent evolution as a result of similar conditions is at work here, the texture of the curving bark does inspire some connections. The cliff hanger has smooth gray brown bark, which seems in itself rather flexible and provides absolutely zil footholds for insects or dust to take refuge from the wind which seems to blow harder at the altitude of which this species is indicative. However, that is where the similarities between this species and the Northern Mountain Pine of Iskravarak end. The root system of this species was only partially recovered, and the long tears in the squat truck leads me to hypothesize that the rest of the root system stayed firmly planted as the majority of the plant tore away. This is further supported by the strange barbs upon the roots, which, judging from the packed soil around them, lends itself to the hypothesis that the root system of this plant is quite tenacious. The branches of the plant do not protrude horizontally from the truck, as would be the case of most species, but instead the truck splits and the branches continue upon the same line above the plant. This gives it rather a similar typology to broccoli and other cultivars of the Brassica genus. Though it's foliage, and I use that term specifically as these could not be confused with a leaf, are rather quite different than any I've previously seen. They are bulbous round things of a tough light green skin, which is unyeildy to the touch. To liken it to another species would do it injustice, as the only species which may have any passing similarity are of the Cactaceae line. In this specimen, where the differential bulbs do come to rest upon eachother, small bridges have grown between them, until the two form a lumpy connection, growing into eachother and becoming one. Further dissection will be needed in order to determine if this is simply a quirk of the species, or if it is meant to minimize the surface area that is unsuited to photosynthesis. Or perhaps even to allow for redistribution of resources among the foliage. Still, a healthy specimen will be required for any further analysis, and while I intend to nurse this one back to health, I do doubt my druidic influences will be well met by this devastated plant.
Species Two: Unnamed Black Frond
While this second species was discovered as we picked through the rubble, there is simply too little here to learn much. Before me lays a small black frond of some yet to be discovered fern. Its exterior is fleshy to the touch, and it leaks a strange purplish liquid from where the subject split from the body of the main plant. It does have leaves of a sort, a charcoal color with little sheen. Perhaps this specimen was already dead before it fell down the rocky slopes, for I doubt anything of this color could photosynthesize enough to support itself. I'll have another more skilled in the druidic arts examine the plant, for while I have gained a trick or two in my time, it is not my area of practice and there is no substitute for proper training in the green magics.
Species Three: Jorring's Monkey Crab (Scientific Name Pending)
I do find myself quite enraged by the following account and how it lead to the first true cataloging of a new species of this strange land. After the rockslide, a great deal of rubble and dirt was brought into the tent I now find myself sharing with that most deplorable lackey Jorrings. And while I was otherwise occupied with the floura that had been sifted from the piles as of yet, Jorrings and his incessant whistling chose to lackadaisically examine the pile. This is despite his arduous and lengthy task at hand, one which he has made astoundingly little headway into. Which, upon watching him work for only but a single mark of the imperial sundial, is clearly a result of his own lack of drive and diligence. It is due to that lackluster work ethic and an abundance of stupidity, that Jorrings pulled a rock which suited his plebeian sensibilities, from the bottom of my pile. And as if one rock slide had not been enough, the pile of stone and rubble collapsed and rolled into his pile of bones, as the two had been stacked right by eachother. Of course, this set him back several hours of work in cataloging the various bones he had piled herewith, and likely would have been devastating to any further samples I may have had awaiting discovery. While this was infuriating, Jorrings, who I remind you is not an indecent man, despite his shortfalls, offered to repile my stones and his bones while I took a meal and offered his most sincere apologies. Struck by his honest attempt to make amends for what was simply an oaflike blunder, I agreed that seemed fair and that all would be forgiven. I set out to took my meal as Jorrings let out an audible sigh of relief at being spared my wrath, which to be fair to him, I'm sure my face had turned a most murderous shade of red during the debacle. One mark of the sundial later, I returned to find Jorrings most enthusiastically whirring about, grabbing all sorts of supplies and furiously taking notes. It warmed my heart to see his transformation, and I was so glad to see that his blunder had awoken his diligence and enthusiasm. It wasn't until he showed me what he had discovered in my pile that I understood he cared little for his own task. He had discovered a small crab taking refuge in a skull, one of the few he had managed to catalog in the several days he had been working on his assignment. As a result, there was little chance that it had been hiding within previously and had crawled inside when the two piles had mixed. The creature was no larger than a pebble at first glance, but when shook from it's home into a specimen container I had prepared for the flying insects, it unfurled long spindly legs, two of which ended in rather imposing claws for a creature of that size. I would liken it to the genus Xanthidae, if it's legs did not more closely resemble that of the Inachidae . Despite his newfound excitement, when he told me he had named it for himself, I could feel that murderous redness return to my face. I no longer work in the same tent as Jorrings and have begun the paperwork for officially naming the creature something less deplorable than "Jorrings Monkey Crab".
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Topic: An Archaeologist in a Dead Land (experimental cooperative worldbuilding) (Read 901 times)