Observations and Comments of the Somfa'Ken Clan
Goals/Traits
-Nervejack Tail
	Seemingly the end product of a long line of evolution that began with the simple random mutation of a third arm on the back, between the shoulder blades. This awkward mutation actually proved to be rather advantageous in the exceedingly rough terrain of the Somfa'Ken's shattered jungle homeground, allowing them much greater ability to climb the local megafoliage and cliffsides. There are, in fact, several other mutants that still reside in the jungle proper that would seem to have stemmed from that simple but powerful line. It was only because of my extensive training in novo-anthropological studies and some preserved samples acquired through a great deal of effort and stupendous luck that I was able to deduce this origin though, because the current adaptation adorning any given Somfa'Ker is remarkably divorced from that origin.
	While all of the Somfa'Ken related groups have developed in their own various ways, their modern 'tail' adaptation shares a few traits across all strains. It is more akin to an elongated third arm than a tail, with 6 joints in total (2 shoulder-analogous, 2 elbow analogous, 1 'wrist', 1 'knuckle') and several long marrow-bearing bones that are anomalously light for their tremendous strength [suspect natural reinforcement by exotic matter, but could just be 1 another miracle of biological design]. This combination of joints and musculature gives a distinct advantage over normal vertebrate tails in terms of both leverage and strength, and allows all of the morphological group to outperform even the most specially designed mechanical adaptations in their natural terrain. In the specific case of the Somfa'Ken their tail is covered in strange bony plates and tipped with a vicious split spike of bone covering either side of the 'finger'. The whole assemblage is an eery, slick black color that almost seems to shine when light catches it, which caused me no end of consternation as I would observe a Somfa'Ker climb a sheer volcanic cliff as if it were child's play. It wasn't until I was able to view it under powerful magnification that I saw the plates are in fact quite porous, and it accomplishes its absurd feats of traction and grip by selectively allowing microscopic hairlike bones to emerge from the pores at the will of the individual Somfa'Ker. It is a truly remarkable adaptation that takes amplifies the effectiveness of the entire limb, but I was left puzzled by why the hairs were not continually deployed. Of course during the act of climbing one must alternate the strength of ones grip freely, and at different places in complicated sequence, but surely there was a static structure that could have accomplished this with much less metabolic cost than this dynamic system. The answer to that simple question was a much greater task than I ever would've expected (or indeed challenged myself to if I'd known how much it would require).
	I had been studying the Somfa'Ken from afar for no less than 6 months, when serendipidity struck. Now studying this particular breed of mutant had already been more difficult than most. It was literally impossible to approach them without them scattering, and nearly so to attain observation from afar, given the absolutely horrific volcanic crater in the middle of a shattered jungle that they inhabit (to be fair plenty of water always poured in from the rivers that routed into/near it, to be turned into steam and render the whole place ungodly humid atop being ungodly hot, and occasionally spark terrifyingly potent thunderstorms the electromagnetic effects of which rendered all of my electronics dead within the first two months). This terrain only compounded the difficulties that the Somfa'Ken's proclivities towards the use of stealth, poison, ambushes, and traps (elaborate to basic, both the passive and active kinds) had already presented, and rendered my progress on gathering information herculean in difficulty and exceedingly slow in pace. Furthermore usually my extensive psionic abilities that would normally assist me served only to hinder me. I could detect nothing from the Somfa'Ker, and a surprising number of the monsters in the caldera in general also possessed Psy-Locked traits (a strange mystery and one that I never expected to solve, as I simply attributed it to a quirk of the Fall and perhaps some trace exotic elements in the local environment). But I must digress.
	The tremendous luck that I was presented with struck unexpectedly, as such things usually do. I awoke one morning in the same way that I had for countless others before (I say "no less than 6 months" because I cannot honestly say how long I'd stayed in that hellish environment at that time) and set about tidying up the small evacuated lavatube cave I called a home of the various clutter that had fallen from my shelves due to the tremors and earthquakes that occurred nightly when my task was interrupted by the tremendous roar of one the more nasty local predators, followed almost immediately thereafter by the distinctive loud wet CRASH that is made when a man's body is thrown with force against a jagged volcanic cliff with enough force to completely undo my morning's campaign of cleaning. I immediately grabbed my trusty psyber-spear (trusty because it was the only damned weapon I brought that still worked) and rushed outside my humble abode to discover a frightful scene. On the black basalt rock of the cliffside beside the entrance to my cave was a Somfa'Ker, slumped and covered with blood. One leg bent at an unnatural angle even given mutants' liberal physiological tolerances and only tattered remnants remaining of a burst eyeball hanging from its skull, my heart nearly skipped a beat at the sight. This was the object of the quest I had pursued for so long, and at that point was the closest I'd ever seen one. I was so enraptured at my luck that I didn't even notice the encroaching predator that had rendered the poor man into his state until the bleeding mess summoned the strength to look over at the sound of my emergence with his good eye (at which point I realized 'he' was in fact simply a highly muscular 'she'), grimace in pain, and then lift her good arm to point.
	It was, as I said before, one of the nastier predators of the local area. I had taken to calling them Gigajaw-Murdertail-Scalies using my personal nomenclature system, and on account of their massive maws of razor teeth, the vicious spikes that adorned their tails, and the nearly impenetratble scales that adorned the non-violent portions of their body. I usually went to great lengths to avoid these creatures, as I lacked the anti-tank weaponry that would've been required to properly deal with them. In that moment, seeing the beast towering over and staring at the slumped figure of the adolescent girl (I had noticed her to be smaller than most of the adults I'd seen up to this point) something within me snapped. How would such a creature DARE to deprive ME, DR. WILLIAMTHOL TROMBURIUS WILLOUGHBY IV of my FIRST opportunity to interact with this culture in a meaningful fashion MERELY FOR LUNCH! A red mist descended upon my eyes, my first experience with the effect that my ancestors had often described to me. The last thing I remembered was imbuing all of my psionic energy into my spear, and screaming an inarticulate battlecry as I charged at the massive creature against all rational judgment.
	When I came to again I found myself kneeling, in an absolutely sordid state, inside what appeared to be...the emptied ribcage of the Gigajaw-Murdertale-Scalie. What was left of it anyway, with my psyber-spear across several bits of innards that I did not even want to attempt to identify at that moment and my clothes so caked in dark blood that I swear to this it must've soaked through and stained my bones red. My whole body and head ached so horribly that it took me several minutes to sufficiently collect myself to notice that just outside the ribcage were several men and women with ivory white skin crossed by tiger stripes of obsidian-black paint, wearing primitive but remarkably functional scaled hide clothing and comfortably holding assorted weapons composed of various monster components that a trained soldier in power armor might have trouble with. Upon closer examination they were not, in fact, men but rather Somfa'Ken. Their distinctive smooth tails alternatively arching over their shoulders as if looking at me with their vicious and wickedly sharp cleaved hook-tips. Directly in front of me stood a particularly large specimen...and leaning against him, broken leg righted and in a splint, tattered eye removed and replaced with a patch, but still covered in blood was the mutant girl I had charged into battle to save. The large warrior glanced from me (I do wonder what I looked like, I hadn't looked in a mirror or had a chance to perform a complete daily hygiene routine in 3 months at that point) to my spear, to the girl, cast his gaze at the corpse of my kill, then finally settled his eyes back to me before inclining his head, letting out a short snort of breath, turning around and beginning to walk away while supporting his daughter. I was only allowed a moment to watch before I felt something wet and warmer than the blood I was drenched in strike my head and my vision blackened.

Vol. 3 Chapter 11 of Dr. Willoughby's Modern Mutants Manual
Published by the esteemed College of Light, Kokaido (All Rights Reserved [XXXX] Post-Fall)


Vol. 3 Chapter 12 of Dr. Willoughby's Modern Mutants Manual
Published by the esteemed College of Light, Kokaido (All Rights Reserved [XXXX] Post-Fall)