Threadworms: Parasites of Flesh and Rot
The Threadworms are among the Valemire’s most feared vermin: swarming, hand-length parasites that cling in dozens and drain the strength of beast and man alike. They do not roar or stalk, but writhe unseen until disturbed, at which point the very ground or water may seem to come alive beneath one’s feet. Their bite leaves a telltale crater — a central puncture flanked by four deep pits — and a numbness that lingers long after the worm has fed.
Appearance
Threadworms resemble pale, clammy centipedes with too many legs, each tipped with an adhesive pad that allows them to climb stone, bark, or even ceilings. Their heads are rounded and blunt, with two pairs of hooked mandibles for anchoring. Between them protrudes a barbed, hollow tongue used to pierce flesh and draw fluids. Once attached, they bury their heads halfway into the host, leaving only the writhing body exposed.
Their bodies give off a faint bioluminescent dust, oily to the touch. Colonies use this dust as a form of communication, leaving trails that glow for an hour or so before fading. To travelers, these glowing smears are a sign that worms are near.
Habitat
Threadworms thrive wherever dampness and decay persist. They cluster in drowned roots, hollow logs, stagnant pools, and cavern ceilings. They may cling to the undersides of bridges or rafted reeds, dropping as pale curtains onto anything that passes below. Colonies can number from a dozen to several hundred.
Behavior
These parasites feed primarily on the fluids of living creatures. Their numbing secretions dull pain and alarm, allowing them to feed unnoticed for hours. Victims often continue their tasks unaware, weakened only gradually as blood and vitality drain away. When a host dies, the worms continue feeding until little remains but hide and bone.
Though living hosts sustain them longest, they also consume carrion and fungus, breaking down whatever the Mire offers. Their swarming response is near-instant: disturb one, and dozens ripple toward the vibration, moving as though with a single will.
Victims
- Beasts of burden are frequent casualties, collapsing overnight with throats lined in pale craters.
- Deer and marsh-stalkers often stagger beneath dozens of worms, ribs hollowing as fluids are drained.
- Fisherfolk speak of numb ankles that bleed only when the worms are pulled away.
- Even larger predators carry them, too hardy to die quickly but marked by weakness.
Place in the Mire
Despised by travelers, yet not without use, Threadworms embody the Mire’s relentless accounting. They cull the weak, strip carrion clean, and recycle rot. Some healers harvest their glowing dust to brew crude salves against pain, though such work is perilous. Burning their husks produces a smoke that wards insects, but the stench is foul enough to drive away most men as well.
Oddities
- Colonies disturbed at night may glow like clusters of will-o’-wisps beneath the canopy.
- A worm torn from flesh continues to writhe for hours, mandibles grasping for phantom hosts. If not carefully removed, their body can crack off and its parasitic face still lodged inside the host.
- The numbing effect lingers for days, leaving welts that itch but do not pain.
Reflection
There is nothing noble here, nor anything personal. Threadworms are hunger given many legs, persistence spread thin as dust. They are the swamp’s quiet censors, taking what is too weak to resist, feeding on blood as readily as rot. In their persistence, I see the lesson again: life does not end, but is siphoned, shared, and passed along.
Creature Profile: Threadworm
- Size: Tiny parasite (hand-length, finger-thick)
- Temperament: Parasitic swarm; relentless, coordinated in numbers
- Diet: Blood, bodily fluids, carrion, fungus
- Habitat: Mire pools, rotting logs, cavern ceilings, drowned beasts
- Threat: Severe in swarms — a nuisance alone, deadly in dozens
- Use: Bioluminescent dust for salves; husks burned to ward insects