The different species of Carrion are typically grouped under the single heading, however distinct physiology is present. While these have been colloquially termed ‘organs’
of the Carrion parasite, they are in fact separate species. Putting my academic mind to the task of categorising these has been difficult, given that living hosts are hard to come by, yet I believe I have gathered enough evidence
to present a complete list of such species.
The common thread between each species is two fold. They all have a certain compatibility between one another, each able to interconnect, and execute movement collectively if need be,
and each is able to swell to grand proportions. None would shy from the suggestion that the smallest examples of Carrion may be beyond the sight of mortals, and yet, at its greatest mass, even the ancient and mighty Eiks,
can be completely encased by a colony, organs are large as a person.
Reproduction is unclear, but I am swayed by the argument that Carrion is a fungi, and thus would do so through spores. These spores mature quickly once interred, quickly forming the
recognisable organ provided ample nutrition is available. Once associated with the host, the organs do not leave, and unless treated will consume anything they can sustain themselves on. Many have theorised Carrion will consume
any organic material, which would mean complete consumption, although I have not witnessed such a feat. Observing dead hosts, remnants of bark, bones, teeth and hair or fur alongside the deceased colony suggest that this would
be a falsehood.
The first and most iconic of the Carrion species is that of Pungea. Aptly named, it produces the aromatic
scent of rot that is so frequently associated with the parasite. I maintain however, that this is not the same fragrance as the cadaver. The Pungea organ’s excretion can also provide an excellent base for many perfumes,
once distilled and mixed, adding a robustness and longevity to the fragrance. The Pungea organ is generally not found in living hosts, as the unrefined fumes it produces are toxic to inspire. Reports of such are to be treated
with scepticism, and are often the result of those who fail to follow principles of basic hygiene or, in other words, simply smell bad.
The Pungea organ often presents as a red, irregularly shaped oval. It visibly glistens with its excretions
and, if touched, will depress before returning to its original form, akin to sponge. The smell is said to attract other Carrion species to affix to the colony.
Another well known member of the Carrion family, the Vulcanus gets its name for its ability to detonate.
While many know of this for the infamous old wives tale of an unfortunate infected with a Vulcanus under the cranium, and subsequently had their head explode, it is unlikely that one would survive with such a large organ internally
present. While the detonation is certainly spectacular, the true danger comes from the fluid that this spreads, that being incredibly acidic, to the point of causing burning to those who handle it unwarily. Likewise with above,
this organ is extremely rare in living hosts, although can appear externally on the body.
Vulcanus organs present as pseudo muscular soft tissues, often with globules of what, had it been
an autopsy, would appear to be yellow-white fat. This of course is not the case, with the ‘fat’ restricting the growth of the ‘muscle’. Once the pressure has suitably built up, the fat ruptures, unleashing
the acid into the surroundings. If need be, a colony can trigger this response quickly as a result of danger.
The Labefact is the most uncommon species and the most little known. The oily chemicals produced in
the Labefact act as a clotting agent for blood and a depressant for other bodily functions, giving it practical application in medicine. eIn my experience however, one should refrain from informing the subject as to the origin
of the medication as adverse reactions to this knowledge are frequent.
The Labefact presents as an orange, sometimes dark red, and softly pulsating organ. When on the exterior
of a host, the pores at which the chemical is excreted from tend to crust over, forming ‘thorns’. When utilised in conjunction with the Vulcanus eruptions, these can be particularly hazardous.
The Paralyctus, leads to both numbness and relaxation of the muscles in living hosts and is the most
common organ to humanoid infections. Often, patients present with limpness in the arm, leg, or other body part.
Confusingly, the Paralyctus looks very similar to the Pungea organ, the primary difference being that
the Paralyctus has faint rings across its surface. Without the feedback from a living host, the best advice one can give to distinguish between the two, is to gauge the intensity of smell when approaching the organ. If one
is unable to approach more than a few metres without severe discomfort, then it is a Pungea organ.
Another rare organ, the obscura is known to emit a fine grey misted liquid from various pores upon
its surface. It does not follow the normal conventions of typical Carrion appearance, which potentially has led to its under-reporting in witness accounts. It does not appear damp, unlike the others, instead almost akin to
dung, stippled with holes that are often puce or orange in colour. In my experience, I have never come across an Obscura affixed to a living host.
The Amentia organ is another favourite of the legends surrounding the Carrion parasite. The tale suggests
that those who ingest the potent concoction that this organ harbours are liable to become overwhelmed with lust. In truth, the chemical induces a relaxed mindset, lowering inhibitions and calming the subject, akin to alcohol
intoxication. It can function as a minor aphrodisiac too, but only if one is desperate as reports suggest the taste to be unpalatable.
The organ shares the theme in appearing to be spheres of humanoid soft tissues. Often these vary between
muscle, fat, and, in cases where part of the colony has died, a fanciful viewer may perceive bone.