| abstract
| - Kasputin Yar is strange among life-bearing worlds in that it has no molten core, no moving tectonic plates, and thus no volcanic activity. There are no mountains, its seas are very shallow, and it lacks a protective magnetic field to ward off the harsher wavelengths of its sunlight. In addition, the planet's seasonal cycle is made more complex through its interactions with two of the gas giants in the Yariz system, failed stars that nonetheless throw out considerable quantities of energy in the form of ionized particles and radiation that serve to feed Kasputin Yar's ecosystem. Indeed, it is doubtful that the world would be warm enough to support life without their contribution. Life on Kasputin Yar began as it does nearly everywhere, in the seas. Self-replicating amino acids in that morass of organic chemicals gave rise to larger proteins and through them, eventually cellular biology. This was a lengthy process, as it ever is. As the levels of available free-floating materials diminished, microbes developed that would produce their own parts, by deriving energy from the more unusual molecules produced as the ion-heavy and radiation-rich sunlight met the seawater and the various waste chemicals floating in it. Methane and carbon dioxide produced by this process filled the once mostly nitrogen atmosphere, and this sparked a growth of microbial life on land, as the now thicker atmosphere afforded some protection against the sun's rays and gave the radiation more chemicals to blast and alter into new and sometimes energy-rich forms. These microbial growths rapidly expanded into thick mats of slime, some of which began drawing energy directly from sunlight and absorbing carbon dioxide to give off oxygen and still more methane. Multicellular life stumblingly arose, and in arising sparked an evolutionary explosion. The shallow seas were soon filled with all manner of swimming things, and eventually, the increasingly elaborate plantlife, and methane-feeding fungi that had claimed the land found itself being eaten by slow-moving creatures best described as highly ambitious jawless eels. Around most of the equatorial regions of the planet, a sort of hybrid lifeform developed, using the hot, humid weather and thick atmosphere to full advantage. A widely varied genus of tall stalks tipped with thick clusters of photosynthetic globules: their upper reaches produced methane, and their lower reaches consumed it, all while growing into the sandy soil and leeching out minerals to fortify their ever-thickening stalks. Advanced strains ultimately began employing weak electrical currents to transmit energy from the top of the stalk to the bottom, allowing for truly monstrous heights to be reached by these symbiont composites. In the upper and lower reaches of the ecosystem, colder weather did not allow for those same gigantic stalks to form. In their place, a sort of five-fronded form of animal life slowly crept along the shores, jockeying for the best combination of root-footing in moisture and fronds fully exposed to light. Many and varied predators and parasites developed to feed on the stalks, which themselves were forced into a smaller form by plants who were able to apply their energy more efficiently, and animals that were inclined to eat them. Currently, the stalk-creatures live mainly in the upper branches of broad trees, and are very efficient and effective parasites. While relatively little of the Kasputin Yar surface is covered in water, and what there is is quite shallow these days(owed in large part to the quantity bound up in the huge bulk of the Rofalssa stalks), these swampy areas do play host to life still. Thick tangles of weedy plantlife matt the surfaces of most water bodies, and invertebrates with beaks and sets of six boneless arms hide there, feeding on the free-swimming creatures that gnaw at the plants. Most of the life that employs these shallow, salty places is amphibious, often partially arboreal, to take advantage of the bounties of the Rofalssa. Hard-shelled crustaceans breed in the water, and clinb down to refresh the moisture their gills demand, but otherwise operate as fairly efficient stalk-climbing scavenger-predators. The largest sea-creature of Kasputin Yar, known by outsiders as the Arboreal Walrus, also lives such a life. They escape airborne threats in the water, and feast upon the large, tough fruits that grow upon many of the Rofalssa, opening them easily with their huge tusks and fangs. The curious Singing Fish is a species with such extreme sexual dimorphism that the females spend their lives in the swamps, and the males spend theirs on the wing, capturing smaller creatures or taking bites of larger ones and often sharing their food with the females, who earned the species its common name through their means of calling to their mates. In the increasingly vast Rofalssa stalk forests arose the most diverse and largest selection of animal life to be found on Kasputin Yar. Literally millions of varieties of small flying creatures feed on the stalks, the other creatures that live on the stalks, and each other. In addition to these, a great number of fruit-bearing symbionts cling to the stalks, tempting mobile lifeforms with the promise of food, to get their seeds carried far away from their home trees in the digestive systems of animals. Such growths soon sparked a rise in the number of climbing lifeforms, and among these arose the creatures known to offworlders as the Yari. Relatively slow moving, in comparison to many other creatures of their homeworld, their primary defenses take the form of sheer bulk, numbers, good eyesight, hooked claws and intelligence. Evolving from small canopy omnivores, available food and the benefits of pack living encouraged their species to great size, strength, and mental capacity. Their first important technological steps were agriculture and the domestication of several stalk parasites, which were initially used simply for food and materials but later and in larger numbers to manipulate the growth patterns of the Rofalssa stalks. Tool use arose after construction, in no small part because of the sheer usefulness of Yari claws, but experienced something of an explosion when it was found that fallen Rofalssa stalks tended to tear up a large section of land, and expose otherwise unavailable minerals. The stalks fell often at the northern and southern borders of their range, as climate fluctuations made territory first suitable and then unsuitable for them. Fire and the use of the gathered ores gave the Yari access to metals, which were soon used to create more precise tools. The naturally electrical nature of a Rofalssa stalk meant that the Yari had small electrical appliances and were working with precise glass lenses by the time their species was discovered by offworld civilizations.
|
![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)