Come with me as we delve into the feral fauna of lustrous Lamplight!
Greetings and salutations, I am Varys Matthau, Orchard’s Parazoologist Premiere! Heh, no, I don’t mean that with certainty, but as you well know, I am a studied and avid researcher in the biota that call the curious corners of this vast Verse home! From the Singing Snailwings of Orchard’s Horsehead Nebula to the emergent fauna of the Resurge-Verdance Sector. Yet, all of that is fairly close to home, isn’t it? That is why my next sojourn takes me further afield than ever before.
We return to glorious Lamplight! The city on the edge of Everis! Again, much has been said of the people and arts of this place, and the mysteries abounding beyond.
For this entry, we dare the near-familiarity for many of my fine watchers/readers of Giotto, before venturing to the near-wilderness of Nomad! Let us begin!
The Giotto District:
I must admit, I am not a fan of Sol. I suppose that comment requires a bit of elaboration. This, of course, does not come close to accounting for the entire system; that is a gross oversimplification, I speak of Sol’s Earth, and truly not even the entirety of its temporal footprint.
I quite enjoyed documenting fauna during the Three Theocracy Period and the preceding Yeren Dynasty. Still, it must be said that Sol is a world of scarcity compared to Earths such as Orchard, Salome, and especially the Verdens Cluster!
Purposefully so. A certain apathetic obliviousness consumed the leaders of Sol’s Earth for quite some time, leading to the extinction and decimation of various species, both mundane and of a more magical mien, some more than once.
With that said, I must give my utmost respect and admiration to the environmentalists and conservationists of Sol, who fought tooth and nail to protect what they could. While it did seem for some time a shift to a multiversal ark system of conservation would become the only recourse as the megaplexes spread further and further, a light burst onto the scene through the tragedy of the Namibian Crisis, the very same movement that sent the first patch of Sol settlers racing towards Lamplight.
The Giotto District is perhaps the most colorful of the five, with painted glass on the various Gothic-esque buildings that paint the streets in a cavalcade of shades. Those who settled Giotto were members of, and possibly founders of, a movement on Sol that took off with reckless abandon. The “Abandonment”, a tiered cultural rejection of the modern world, which saw many push and in many cases succeed in a more pastoral, medieval even, manner of living, while others led Sol entirely, for a number of intraversal and extraversal locales. This mindset, as noted, defined the original Sol settlers, leading to an inordinate amount of farmland still resting within the district, though the humble cottages have been converted to retreats and tourist traps, with the families who work the farms residing in tenement buildings, but a short ride away.
While the cultural shift was fairly short-lived on Lamplight, back on Sol, many nations that had once extolled their natural environs have entered a fused state of existence, melding pastoralism and high-tech advancement in an effort to “Bloom Back” what was lost. While this included a great deal of environmental engineering, it also necessitated the reintegration of numerous species, many of whom had been living in captivity for a generation, or were kept extant in name alone, with their population stored in vials.
Enter Promethean Wonder Laboratories. A biotech firm with an interest in recapturing the natural wonder of Sol, they are eager to aid in the “Bloom Back” movements, and it is common opinion that without their assistance, most of the rewilding efforts would have been left uncompleted or heavily mismanaged.
With that said, their efforts were rather… haphazard. They rebuild biomes as desired, but not congruently with their designer beasts being pulled from all over Sol-Earth’s past, and occasionally crafting entirely new species for the sake of meeting quota. While many who opposed the movement remain vocal about the trouble their actions have caused for nations not taking part in the initiative, it's rather hard to browbeat the organization that regrew the Amazon and the Great Barrier Reef. What does it matter that Purusaurus was millennia dead before the former even became a delta, or that there is no such thing as a Sea Hippo?
I only mention these designer beasts because a number of them have found their way to Lamplight, notably unlike many of the other settlers, very few animals were brought with the initial Sol wave, excluding a handful of house pets, namely cats and dogs, and one guinea pig that has been entered into district infamy. However, I have been unable to account for why.
However, PWL began as a designer pet business, and continued their work to this day, with many being quite popular amidst the Giotto denizens, for while much of the aestheticism has faded away, rejection of modernity can still be seen in their art and community events, and additionally in the ways they “accessorize”. Several of their more favored creations found their way to Lamplight and proceeded to shake their leashes, and while some are still largely contained to Giotto, others can be found across the entire breadth of Lamplight.
Enter the Wondopteryx (Sinosauropteryx domesticus). If the gyrfoxes are to be considered Lamplight’s “seagulls,” then the Wondopteryx are its raccoons with a dash of corvid tossed in.
Indeed, they were some of the first of the city’s fauna that I came across, a pair greeting me with curious sniffs after they hopped down from their looting of a nearby waste bin. They stood no higher than my shin, and scampered off when I bent down to get a better look at them. The natives largely ignore them anymore, throwing them scraps on occasion, and they have become so numerous and common that many of the breakfasts I took to be chicken eggs were revealed to me to be theirs instead, “Collected fresh this morning,” the revealing proprietor had proudly announced.
As with all of PWL’s creations, they are fully fertile, perhaps more so than the original templates, which is one criticism I agree with, as their creations, without monitoring, could risk overpopulation and resource strain. On Lamplight, that does not appear to be the issue, with the little dinos being at a fairly low rung on Lamplight’s cobbled-together food web.
They are derived from a species of Compsognathidae, meaning they have a slight build, small, pointed heads, long necks, and a theropod stance. Their foreclaws have adapted for grasping and holding onto objects, though hunting and finer manipulation are entrusted to their delicate jaws. They are covered in a pelt of fine downy feathers that follows expected organic patterning, excluding a patch in the exact center of their shoulder blades, where the fur forms into a pattern exactly replicating a barcode. Their most striking feature, notably, is their long plumed tails, which extend nearly the same length as the rest of their body. My observations inform that they use it to signal others towards items of interest or to convey their moods, akin to canines and felines.
Notably, their coloration is distinctly monochrome, with all specimens I observed being a mixture of white, black, and grey feathers, eyes, skin, and even their teeth. When combined with their twitching yet fluid movements, it brings to mind depictions of ancient cartoons. This appears to be an adaptation of the Lamplight feral stowaways, as specimens freshly arrived from Sol or remaining in captivity have markedly brighter coloration, often in clashing shades.
As I mentioned, there is something about that that reminds me of corvids, namely their attraction to shiny objects, which they snatch at the first opportunity, ferreting them away to their burrows or hideaways. As the natives have grown accustomed to this behavior, it is not uncommon to see street merchants leave small bowls filled with small coins, metallic buttons, and bits of aluminum to distract the Wondopteryx from their more valuable wares. Despite this, I witnessed no fewer than a dozen visitors stolen by the cackling creatures, their laughter like calls seeming almost purposeful, though any attempts to stop or harm them came to an immediate halt due to native intervention. The animals, like the Gyrfox, take care of the more destructive invasive and native “vermin” in the city, with insects, rodents, and smaller reptiles making up the majority of their diets, and as such, harming one is considered taboo. Indeed, some treat it as egregious as ignoring a visitor with void-drunk eyes.
Wondopteryx, while eagerly congregating in large groups when hunger or curiosity speaks to them, from what I observed, tend to live solo or in mated pairs. They are skittish and fearful animals, choosing to run from larger or even similarly sized dangers, except when defending their nests. I learned that lesson personally, when I intruded upon a brooding pair on an early morning walk. The cock’s fangs went through three layers of clothing and still smarts as I write this. Luckily, rumors of venom seem largely farcical.
Curiosity Turns to Fury
Indeed, when it comes to their nests, I observed them making a puffed-up stand to all inhabitants of Lamplight, excluding one.
The Spiderhound (Galeodecanis celeritas) is a bit of a mystery for me personally; it's a mystery for most zoologists and xenobiologists with an interest in Sol, because its origin remains a muddled mess to this day.
Firstly, it should be noted that this animal is not of Earth, at least, not in the most general sense; its phylogeny is difficult to ascertain. Instead, it has come to Lamplight from Sol’s Mars. Now, again, I am not a historian, no, the Martian population of Giotto is quite small, but I do know that in the context of Sol, any native Martian sophonts died while the dinosaurs were still in their infancy.
The terraforming and settlement of Mars became increasingly important due to the Namibian Crisis, as I noted, with an influx of settlers seeking a fresh start under alien skies. It was slow-going and dangerous work, but it bore fruit surprisingly fast. Some argue that external, paranormal influence aided the startlingly fast terraforming process, and I am not one to disagree, but with that speedy alteration came not only fresh hope for the disillusioned but also fresh tragedy.
The New Adelaide Incident became the defining moment of Martian Settlement, with the rapid alterations triggering a sudden and devastating “mars quake” which tore a rift across the rust-colored surface that consumed the entire settlement and the nearly five hundred souls that had come to call it home, dropping them into a chasm whose true depth has never been discovered.
New Adelaide had been central to biosphere production, with numerous specimens under their care that they wished to introduce to the environment once it became livable, alongside any alterations required to support the continuous propagation of the chosen animals post-introduction.
I am told that the list of on-site species was lost with the settlement, and the site was left abandoned as the other members of the initiative reevaluated their rapid expansion.
The Spiderhounds appeared on the surface in the territory surrounding the New Adelaide Rift. Genetic testing shows signs of some shared genetic ancestry with the Sol-Terran camel spiders. Yet the markers seem to hint at a very distant relation, which would not make sense given the limited timescale for descent from any specimens located within New Adelaide.
Regardless, they are well adapted for the Martian deserts, with heightened oxygen levels thanks to the ongoing terraforming and lesser gravity allowing them to get strikingly large, and that is much the same for the specimens I witnessed within Lamplight, with the largest specimen, a surprisingly sessile female who was the mascot of a tavern known as the Firefall, being over a meter tall at the shoulder.
Now, while you may be thinking of a sprawling and low-slung creature, as is common of most of the Verses’ arachnids, disabuse yourselves of that notion. Their eight legs are long and slender, positioned to give the animals a cursorial build not all that dissimilar to that of cheetahs or greyhounds. Their thoraxes are similarly slender, coming to an almost conical point. Their carapaces are patterned mixtures of rust oranges and darker browns, though I have noted at least one melanistic individual in my time here. They are solitary animals, primarily congregating only around water or in the care of “pups” that the females give birth to, and leave in a communal “nursery,” with females trading off who watches over them. The pups reach maturity in a handful of weeks, after which they all go their separate ways.
In their native habitat they hunt by chasing their prey to exhaustion, if ambush fails of course, their great speed, unidirectional lungs and adapted “hooves” that are still capable of climbing sheer surfaces means that they can keep apace of any of the Martian wilds current cadre of herbivores, including their most agile members, such as the Greater Jackalope or Martian Ostrich.
They are also the only known arachnid that can be said to fit into the “sabertoothed” category of fauna, for while all arachnids have long probing fangs, they are more akin to blades, leaving gouging cuts rife with an anticoagulant toxin that leads to their prey most commonly running themselves to death.
This is still true of the specimens found on Lamplight. However, much of their chosen prey is nowhere near as fast, leading them to be less aggressive and flighty on average. While on occasion one has attacked a sophont, no examples of man-eating have been accounted for. Indeed, at least in the Giotto district, tamed Spiderhounds are considered status pets.
Of course, not all agree with that fact, with the reason for their namesake being dubbed “disarming” by those of the neighboring Aetherium and Neoclassical districts, a chittering and breathy howl said to echo in the minds of all who hear it for hours afterwards. What is more, the natives of the Nomad districts loathe the arachnids, who target their beloved mounts, though they have come up with precautions, of which I will make note later. That said, I was somewhat shocked to find Spiderhound carapace jewelry on display at a Nomad bazaar, and the meat is occasionally eaten by the same natives in a fashion I would almost dare to dub petty.
But all of what I just mentioned requires one thing of lovers and loathers both: You need to catch them.
The Lamplight Spiderhounds were even faster than their Sol counterparts, and more than once, I was nearly knocked from my feet by a rust-covered blur bounding by me. What is more, once one gets moving, it seems like they are almost unable to stop, and I managed to tag an individual right as their “zoomy” period was about to commence. The young male managed to circle the entire region a whole ten times before coming to a stop, seeming barely phased by the experience. Mind, I do not mean just the Giotto district, that was ten times around the entire expanse of Lamplight.
Arachnid on the Run
While the beasts that have come to call the Giotto district home, at least initially in some cases, have a rather bombastic flair about them, the next district is perhaps better classified by the word: “Loyal”.
The Nomad District
The Nomad District, in many ways, is the region of the city most closely tied to the natural world, though an artifice. Hundreds of vast yurts and tents sit amongst carefully crafted false plains and fields, where clusters of domesticated fauna mill about. While originally settled by the survivors of Salome, the Tribes of the Many Steppes, united in name and culture, are in fact a multifaceted pseudo-empire spanning various clusters across the West. As such, while those of Salome fled to Lamplight, their kin have spread across the Verse, as refugees and defenders both, yet the district remains a cultural touchstone for all these disparate factions, meaning that as far from their original path they have walked, a sense of unity remains, as signified by the various subcultures continued belief in their peaceable crimson deity.
The preferred mounts and companions of the various clans can be found within the district, alongside numerous other beasts brought by refugees from dozens of different cultures, who have formed small hubs amidst the sprawl. While many would think that the “wilds” would integrate seamlessly with this district, that would be a mistake, as the nomads are very careful to mark where their lands begin and what is left for their admittedly minute herds and hunting. While I noted that most in Lamplight are vegetarians, in the Nomad district, things are a fair bit more varied, and their hunting grounds are carefully monitored and curated, with any undesired fauna removed in one manner or another. With that said, you are more likely to find natives of the Nomad district in the “wilds” than any other, and I came across a half a dozen encampments, lived in or otherwise, that were of Nomad design.
These camps see those of the district marked deeply by their people’s ancient wanderlust, which carried them across the Verse through paths long forgotten, as visitors, as they move in circuit around the exterior of the city, attempting to capture an iota of the lives their people were forced to leave behind.
The Nomad district was full of more unique fauna than any other, and I could go on for hours with all the species I saw. Indeed, most are the last known specimens in existence! From the portly Scarlet Sheep(Ovis aries salome) of the Salome universe, to the black-furred Great Tarpan (Equus feras gigantus), whose powerful limbs carried the armies of the Salka Khan to forgotten shores. I could talk of their new discoveries as well, the fire-obsessed Cinder Kite(Milvus ignisatus) or the Kumaghords(Ceratotherium spinosagulo) cursorial, alien-visaged rhinoceri of the Trackless Sands.
But instead, I will speak of an animal whose outlandish appearance, combined with their usefulness, has seen them rise in prominence not only amongst the nomads, but the rest of Lamplight as well! More importantly, this is a beast I have never seen before!
The Adaraak(Ammolestodon camelus), which, despite all appearances, is a heavily derived species of ground sloth! Indeed, my first observations lead me to believe the animal to be a curiously proportioned camelid, due to its incredibly similar profile. It took clarification from my trusty scanner and the words of the natives to really hammer home the point.
So yes, a sloth whose body plan near perfectly mimics that of the camelid species commonly found in the deserts of both Orchard and Sol. According to natives, that is because they fill that exact niche in the world they were drawn from, being sizable migrating beasts that have become foundational to the nomads and traders of the region. They are larger than those camelids still extant on the above-mentioned Earth and more closely aligned with varied extinct specimens, with the largest specimens standing near six meters tall.
There are distinctions, of course; their tails are thicker and more heavily furred, they have pronounced canines that extend past their lower jaw, used for portioning food and as grooming implements, and, most notably, six limbs.
Four gangly legs matching those of camelids, and two arms, ending in thick spade-like claws hanging down before their forelegs. These appear to be their main form of defense, swinging at anything that annoys them with striking strength.
The nomads informed me that the configuration of limbs was typical among those drawn from the Trackless Sands. I am eager to see more of this Verse, but when asked if Lampeter had an outpost, they laughed, saying that if it had, the sand had swallowed its tracks just as readily as anything else. Assuredly an adventure to come, I can only hope.
Notably, the Adaraak of Lamplight are among the most recent transplants, appearing only about ten years ago. Still, they have adapted quite well to the climate; their fur is thicker, their build heartier, and, if my observations are to be believed, a pseudo-trunk like those of Saiga antelope and litopterns is already beginning to develop amongst the latest calves, alongside more monochromatic coloration, excluding a curiously common silver-piebald patterning. Additionally, the fraying common to most long-term fauna is already present in all individuals I observed.
Additionally, they have spread across the city, mainly for cargo transport and pulling “taxis”, replacing many of the more traditional forms of motorized locomotion. However, many of the natives claim the slower speed is better than the constant need for repairs necessitated by the nonmatter’s presence.
While other animals have been used, Adaraak are reported to be strikingly loyal once their trust is gained and seem to have just as keen an instant for when a visitor has become void-blind as the natives. I was told of a dozen cases of Adaraaks chasing down said individuals and carrying them back to their owners like a mother cat with her kitten, huffing and chirping in distress.
While this paints them as loving caretakers, I was told they can be painfully stubborn and, when riled, quite a sight: rearing up on their hind legs, spit flying, all four front limbs flailing. Indeed, a growing saying amongst Nomad youth seems to be “Angry as an Adaraak, oft used to describe someone who makes a show of their negative feelings, often in public.
Most of the Adaraak I was able to interact with were cows and their calves moving about the tents or working about the city, eagerly picking over any offered scraps. As omnivores of the desert, their diet is a wide one indeed. Their fur is now used in textiles, and their milk has become something of a niche delight at some eateries in the district. The flavor is… curious. Bulls, meanwhile, I observed, as solitary sentinels at the edge of the district or watching me amidst the “wilds”. A few nomads had male mounts, but allowed them to come and go as they pleased, saying they seemed to enjoy the solitude more than most beasts they knew. One claimed that they were looking for something, though what he could not say, considering they shunned both Light and Void so readily.
A Bull at Rest
Now, while the Adaraak is the newest arrival, the next beast has been here since those first settlers of Salome.
The Hatchet Cat(Homotherium domesticus) is the Salome nomads' oldest companion; indeed, in Salome, the concept of a “dog” is an alien one, and the word instead most closely matches the big cat’s Saloman name: “Bankhat”.
They are a domesticated form of Homotherium, derived from populations that lived alongside Salomen humans during their extended Ice Age, which saw the continued spread and fertility of the vast Mammoth Steppe, thereby originating the titular Many Steppes that came to define the Salomen people and all their descendants across their multiversal territory.
As stated, they slotted into the domesticated niche commonly given over to canines across the wider Verse. However, the Salomans allowed their domesticated populations to breed with feral populations, keeping the species strong and avoiding many of the diseases and physical alterations that can occur thanks to long-term domestication. In short, don’t expect to find a “Hatcher Pug” in their kennels.
That said, there is some variation: some specimens have been bred for battle, others raised for hunting, and eventually for shepherding, livestock guardianship, and guiding. Temperament and build were selected for each group, though, again, interbreeding was encouraged, so while their size, patterning, and build can vary, there are no unique “breeds” of Hatchet Cat; it is better to say there are differing professions.
On average though, they stand around a meter tall, with spotted coats that run a gambit of colors, with a dark auburn red being the most common, their fangs are flatter and wider than most saber toothed cats, earning their name, yet their bite force is event stronger, meaning that their bites are capable, even amongst this long domesticated variety of breaking bone.
One of the nomads told me that the Hatchet Cats cooperation had been a gift to the Saloman’s from their crimson god, for their hefty fangs were expert at swift death, lessening the suffering of prey, as close to peace as a predator can seek in its life, and that he wished the Salomans to take on such an adage when it came to their own hunts and during times of war. To be fleet of foot, keen of instant, and swift of strike.
Because of their legacy within the Nomad district, the natives are hesitant to the point of near hostility at the thought of anyone not of the district owning a Hatcher Cat, or interfering with those few feral individuals that can be found in the “wilds”. I was required to take a guide with me at all times when I went to observe said felines, and I noted that they had formed a pride structure similar to that of lions. Domesticates, while kennelled communally, do seem more attached to their owners than their fellow specimens.
The last thing I will say about the Hatchet Cats is that, the nonmatter, or Lamplight, perhaps both have caused some manner of alteration or creation of distinct and alien abilities in most fauna. Yet, outside the fraying of their forms, the Hatchet Cats remain much the same as they did in the records recovered from the Many Steppes. I have a theory that the zeitgeist and faith tied to the beasts by the Nomads has kept them in a sort of stasis, unchanging as long as their owners remain anchored to their lost past, but to prove such a thing, I would need more magic than my brief skill set can provide. It is a curious thought, though.
A Sentinel on Watch
For most, I would only have one more stop remaining, the dour domain of the Neoclassical District, but they would be wrong; greater and perhaps worrying possibilities lie just beneath our feet. Yet, I leave that for the next entry, as I guide you one last time through the streets of Lamplight. As ever, I am Varys Matthau, bidding you all a temporary adieu!