What folks don't tell ya, 'cause most don't know, is that the Stiganoy used to be water breathers, what lived in the great salt lake, 'fore'n it dried up and they run off t'the caves.
They was like mollusks, barnacles, sea cucumbers - but smarter. The weren't the smartest critters in the world, but they was smart enough to be stupid and to fall in with the gods. Them ropers didn't move around no more then than they do now. Just lay there in the inky depths o' the lake, feedin' on whatever fish as came by. Feedin' and turnin they attention in to what the old men up at the temple calls "The Hungry Darkenss."
Next thing they knew, the lake started dryin' up, and they was all of a panic. They prayed and they prayed to their god to let 'em stay where they was. See, that was the dumb part. They never asked keep the lake from dryin' up or to go somewheres else - to a lake that weren't dryin' up or out to the ocean where they coulda been happy, cause they didn't know nothin' beyond their own lake.
They didn't wish for what they needed. They wished for what they thought they wanted. Well, that's just what they got, too. When the lake dried up so as all them ropers was stickin' up out the water, their god made up be able to breath air like you and me, 'stead o' water like they did. So, there they sat in the mud, as the lake got lower and saltier all the time.
Well, I expect most gods is like whatever gives 'em homage, or else what gives 'em homage is like the gods theyselves, but the ropers' god weren't too much smarter than them as worshipped it. They started dyin' either from too much sun, or too much salt, or too many birds got too smart to fly where the ropers'd catch 'em. They started dyin' and their god started eatin their souls and they got desperate and started prayin' e'en more and their god just had hisself a feast for a while and started lordin' out over the other gods, how much worship his critters was given 'im.
Then, it got less. Too many of 'em died, and too many quit prayin when they didn't get no answers, and then the Hungry Darkness started dyin', too, and started noticin' the gods of night and the gods of famine and feasting and the gods of the fishes and clams start to close in on 'im like a vulture on a dyin' man.
It was too lake to make the lake right. It was already dead, god or no god. Istal knew he weren't long fer this world or any other if he didn't do somefing, so he gave his critters legs. Not great legs, mind you. He didn't make giraffes, but he gave legs enough that that night, they all crawled their way up to the caves. Rained all night that night, and some say the Hungry Darkness still owes a favor to Magroth the Storm Bringer for that. All I know is that I wouldn't go in those caves for all the gold in the kingdom, boy. Give me the sea an' the open sky, but best as I know, ain't nobody been up in them caves for five generations, and ain't nobody come back since longer still.
