On 21 Aug 2016 at 15:52, Freelance Traveller wrote: > It doesn't really take much to get a certain kind of person to start > "putting one over on the yokels" and telling ... exaggerated ... > stories about local fauna (and sometimes flora). So, we get the Texas > rats that chase cats, Australian 'drop bears', New York City's > alligators in the sewers, "hoop snakes", et cetera, und so weiter, and > so on. > > People being people, 37 centuries isn't going to change certain > things. > > That's where you come in. Let's have the stories that _your_ world > tells the yokels about local fauna and flora. Are they the man-eating > muddibs, desert worms that tracelessly swim through sand like eels > swim through water? The "hanging ballon", a floating creature that > unerringly makes its way toward your campfire, where the hydrogen and > methane gas that gives it its buoyancy explodes, stunning everyone > around so that the stobor can get them? Something else? C'mon, give! > I'll be taking the good ones and combining them into an article for > Freelance Traveller, so let's have some fun! This one is from a book of "state lore" I got as a kid. It's buried in storage, but I can recall the relevant bits. This one was from Colorado, as I recall. It'd fit well anyplace with steep sided mountain valleys. The slide rock grabber is a *large* lizard like creature. It's carnivorous, feeding on herbivores that graze in the mountain valleys (think sheep or goats). Let's call them "geeps" (shoertened from "goat-sheep") The grabber has an armored belly (very strong and smooth plates). It has short but strong legs and a long prehensile tail. It also has a large mouth. They lurk above the treeline up on ridges that overlook the valleys that the geeps graze in. They set themselves up on a relatively clear, steep slope. Bare rock and maybe some talus (the small broken rock that piles up at the bottoms of cliffs and steep slopes). They laboriously climb into position and use their tails to anchor themselves facing down the slope. Large boulders, rock spires, cracks, whatever they can find that gives a decent anchorage. When a group of geeps wanders into a suitable position in the valley, the grabber releases its grip on the anchor and uses its legs to push itself down the slope on its belly. Sort of like a living tobaggan. Between their legs, their weight, the hard smooth belly and the smooth rocks (or loose talus) they attain quite amazing velocities. As they reach the bottom they open their mouth and scoop up geeps. their velocity lets them get partway up the facing slope and their legs let them make it up to a new anchor. They do use a fair bit of energy in these attack, but once they reach a new anchor, the can work around to facing downslope and lie there digesting. They've got a fair bit of bodyfat both for cusioning against blows, and as insulation for cold weather. While anchored they just look like big rocks. The young ones are more mobile and hunt more conventially. The adults hunt as described above. Like alligators and many other reptiles, they just keep growing as they get older. The older ones have been known to go after groups of humans. Their hide is proof against most normal weapons. and their camouflage makes them hard to spot anyway. Even with IR, they look like just another sun-warmed rock. So the usual hunting technique involves dummies stuffed with poison or explosives. Poison is preffered for getting them intact (that incredibly tough hide is valuable). But if one has been being a real nuisance, they'll go with explosives. Fortunately they aren't that bright. Yes, this critter is unlikely for several reasons. On the other hand, it might actually be real. Picture the PCs who refused to get taken in and then get attacked. Contrawise, picture the PCs who get taken in by the tall tale. Either way much fun will ensue. -- Leonard Erickson (aka shadow) shadow at shadowgard dot com
