Lightning WhalesGiant beasts are washed onto the beaches of Monsoon Point with remarkable regularity- and since each one has easily enough meat on it to feed a large tribe for a week, it makes perfect sense to settle in the area to harvest this bounty.
The whales are drawn to Monsoon Point, despite the risk of beaching by a storm, precisely because of said storms. You can tell if a pod of Lightning Whales is lurking off the coast, since lightning strikes will be clustered in that area.
Neolithic people do not question how or why Lightning Whales attract lightning strikes to themselves. They do sort of understand that it is related to the fact that even a dead whale can be dangerous, since cutting into the blubber will sometimes cause an electrical discharge that can easily shock someone to death. But the food is worth it.
What potential do the Lightning Whales have? For a neolithic people, they may just be a convenient source of food- and a lesson in handling electrical hazards safely. But in the future, more curious people might want to investigate the non-conformity of Lightning Whales- though obviously all the same species, individuals can have any number of mutations ranging from larger fins to extra eyes. Or maybe they will be more interested in what can be done with the blubber, or the remarkably shiny bones. Regardless, harvesting the beached whales forms a cornerstone of our prehistory.
It seems implausible that we heard the whalesong from hundreds of miles away, and that that is what drew us north. But then again, Lightning Whales aren't normal beasts, so maybe it's true.
We... were not ready for the north. The plants that grow here are different. The animals that graze in the forests are different. The lashing rain gave us the chills even as the heatwaves made us faint. Our tribe was on its last legs when we reached the shoreline. We begged the sea itself for aid.
And the sea answered.
We heard the beast before we saw it, its haunting cries louder than the roar of rain and sea. But we spotted it soon after, approaching the sound- the beast thrashing in the shallows, trying desperately to return to its natural home. We watched as one last massive wave pushed it far onto the beach- the sea and storm cooperating to deliver us from our peril.
Oh, sure, when we approached the beast with spears in hand, intending to finish it off, it shocked several of us to death. But we were patient, and once it grew weak, in we went with our handaxes to carve up our divine gift.
Its flesh relieved our hunger.
Its blubber burned when wood would not.
Its massive bones formed the framework of our shelters, while others were carved into tools.
Praise the sea. Praise the storm. Praise the whale.
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Topic: Bay12 v. Black Pants Legion Great War Arms Race (Prelim 5 Design) (Read 15114 times)