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The evolutionary history of primates is long and extremely confusing. According to the molecular clock, the last common ancestor of all primates lived between 90 and 63 million years ago, yet we have found no fossils dating from that particular window. Apparently, the dry-nosed haplorhines (tarsiers, monkeys and apes) came first, with the wet-nosed strepsirrhines (lemurs, bushbabies and lorises) diverging from the haplorhines between 90 and 55 million years ago. There is conjecture that Plesiadapiformes were archaic primates, but there is doubt as to whether modern primates actually evolved from them. Two other groups, Adapiformes and Omomyoidea, throw a monkey wrench at the case because both groups appeared suddenly in the fossil record with no physical evidence of past transitions, and they were already diverse by the Eocene. So were those two groups already around to witness the Paleocene-Eocene Thermal Maximum, much less the fall of the dinosaur empire one million decades earlier?

Well, whatever the case, as much as 1750 species of primates have been identified on Great Lakes Earth, and they occupy a wide variety of niches that, compared to mammals of back home, seem completely random. Despite this, however, you can still find monkeys here. However, while they are still haplorhines (dry-nosed primates), the "monkeys" of Great Lakes Earth are not simians. They evolved from a totally different ancestor, and so the monkeys are called "xenosimians". (Not the most creative name choice, but what can you do?)

The xenosimians debuted in North America around 53 million years ago and, while the climate was still comfortably hot and steamy, migrated both ways--westward into Asia and southward into South America. They didn't reach Africa until 30 million years ago, when a landbridge connected Africa to Europe. When Africa was eventually cut off from the rest of the world again over 25 million years ago, the African xenosimians evolved into a wide variety of monkeys and apes. By 15 million years ago alone, 25 different genera of apes ruled Africa. One million years later, they were all gone.

Yet Allopithecidae, the family in which we'd eventually find the elves and dwarves, thrived in South America. But why? Why would South America luck out whereas Africa, the preconceived cradle of humankind, didn't? The surprisingly simple answer is this--South America's apes are less specialized than Africa's apes. Whereas Africa had multiple micromanagers from the gibbon-like alkubaras to the giganto-like kikombas, South America had more omnivorous apes that could move both on the ground and in the trees.

Humanity on Great Lakes Earth deserves its own category because in many ways, its evolution parallels our own. Like us, mankind on Great Lakes Earth is one of its latest inventions.

By almost three million years ago, there were less than a dozen genera of ape-men, including the one parallel to Homo. Their similarities to humans are so much greater than their differences that it’s been difficult to come up with a scientific name for these allopithecids. Many names have been considered—Pseudopithecus, Parahomo, even Ochialthiniopithecus, which literally means “Not a True Ape”. Ultimately, it was one of our scientists’ daughter who came up with a name for us. She called the humans of Great Lakes Earth Draculodon, meaning “Dracula’s Tooth”, because of the genus’s long, razor-sharp canines, which is something we see with baboons, not apes. Indeed, it is the teeth that mark one of the differences between Homo and Draculodon. Our teeth are smaller than a chimpanzee’s, yet the teeth of a chimpanzee aren’t as thick on the enamel. But the teeth of Draculodon are really the best of both worlds—big as a chimp’s and thick as a man’s. Another difference is that they have kept the monkey brains and enlarged them—on average, to 2.7% of their body weight, higher than the two percent that our brains weigh. Whereas chimpanzees share 98% of our DNA, the last of the satyr species, Silenus aristaeus, shares 96% of its DNA with the last surviving species of Draculodon, suggesting that both genera diverged at earlier dates than our two genera, Pan and Homo. Whereas our divergence happened anywhere between five and seven million years ago, theirs might have happened between ten and 13 million years ago, right on the heels of the Miocene-Pleistocene Cold Snap. Still, there are some morphological similarities. Perhaps the most noticeable are the horns.

We don't know where the horns came from, and the question of "why" doesn't have a singular answer. They are usually pointed backwards, which could work as a deterrent against potential ambush predators. They could also be used for thermoregulation, which is a pattern often observed back home with many of our ruminants. Curiously, we have found that the horns have also created extra sinus space, which would help them filter out unsavory particles from the air they breathe and lighten themselves in weight. It's plain to see that the horns are sexually dimorphic, a pattern similar to many, many other horned mammals back home.

In the roughly three million years of the genus's existence, there have been more than 13 species, most of which had never left their traditional South American homes. But one eventually broke the mold and crossed the newly formed Panamanian Landbridge, moving northward and colonizing the colder, more temperate Laurasia. About 650,000 years ago, Draculodon freibergensis appeared in North America and eventually managed to colonize the ice-free lands of Asia and Europe. The common name for this species is "dwarf", and they had come up with numerous ways of adjusting to the cold, making them an ice age success story.

Males averaged in at 48 inches in height and 200 pounds in weight, whereas the females averaged in at 43 inches in height and 168 pounds in weight. Being shorter but heavier than their Neandertal analogues may have been one of their methods of keeping warm, as a higher mass compressed into a smaller body means less heat can escape. But that may not be enough. Curiously, the dwarves grew their hairs with the seasons. In the summer, a dwarf could be as clean-shaven as a human baby. But during the winter, that same dwarf would now be wearing a dense combination of facial and androgenic hairs, as much as three inches in some places. So in dwarvish society, beards are just part of the annual winter fad. And both sexes could wear them!

Contributing to their extra weight was their bone structure. Compared to us humans, dwarves had lower, more elongated craniums; larger brow ridges; larger noses; larger shoulder joints; larger, broader rib cages; broader hips; larger elbow joints; shorter forearms; larger hip joints; larger and thicker knees, shorter and more flattened calves and larger ankle joints. This could help add more resilience to the cold.

Like all other xenosimians, dwarvish blood has such high concentrations of plasma that they could resist a certain number of deadly diseases. Indeed, there are no reports of dwarves or any Draculodon species suffering sexually transmitted infections similar to syphilis or even AIDS. But dwarvish blood had an extra twist to help them adapt to the cold. As well as high concentrations of plasma, dwarvish blood also possessed high concentrations of antifreezing compounds. They could also reduce the volume of circulation when the weather was cold enough, to reduce frostbite.

However, whereas freezing was a seasonal threat, overheating was more perennial. How could the dwarves keep themselves warm but not too warm? Perhaps that is why their noses were so large--to release excess body heat. This may sound counterintuitive, but in a frigid ice age climate, sweating would actually be a far bigger detriment.

One final method of surviving the ice age world may involve leptin, the hormone responsible for the sensation of hunger. Leptin production was at its lowest in the summer and autumn months, when food was readily abundant. In that span of time, an average dwarf would need as much as 100,000 calories of food per day. But what could they possibly eat? Being smaller and stockier than their Neandertal analogues would render them incapable of pursuing fast-moving prey, limiting them to ambushing larger, less maneuverable prey, like puaka or odontotyrannus. But the dwarvish body build might have also forced them to make some compensations, like fishing and trapping and birding and even domesticating. Yes, it turns out that it was the dwarves who domesticated the golden warg and the gnoll into the dogs and hyenas that are still around today, and it was the dwarves who invented horticulture, the art of gardening for desirable fruits, berries and roots. (Leaves and bark are so low on energy that all xenosimians tend to avoid them unless in a medical emergency, the most extreme example being the obligately carnivorous werewolves.)

Come the winter, the dwarves' caloric demands would drop to only 600 calories per day, far lower than the 1500-3000 calories we humans would need per day to survive. That was when leptin production was at its highest, most likely as a means of surviving scarcity. So the dwarves already had quite the rollercoaster of calories from season to season. But how would a pregnant female dwarf survive such a swing? Actually, she wouldn't. In her 448-day pregnancy, the rate would not change--at least 120,000 calories per day. How would she and her developing child survive that? Well, some populations lived entirely on seafood, which was very high on calories. Other populations were migratory, following the herds with the seasons. And when all else fails, the mom-to-be would simply drink the milk from her mates, which could be 13% fat.

A pregnancy lasting 448 days would ultimately mean giving birth to a more developed baby. Indeed, from birth, a dwarf's brain would only be 35% the size of the adult's. (Which would be anywhere between 1.6 and 1.89 pounds.) By contrast, the human baby has a brain 28% the size of the adult's. It doesn't sound like much of a difference, but you'd be surprised. It would take the baby as much as six months to stand up without assistance. Because they wouldn't have the same degree of insulation, the children would be furry 24/7 until growing out of their "baby hairs" at the age of 12. At the age of 15, they would become sexually mature. At this point, a dwarf's growth stage started to become a bit peculiar. To adjust to the high-stress life they lived in, they seemed to forego the middle age phase and could reach old age with the body of a young adult. That is because, unique among xenosimians, dwarves lacked oxidising agents, the chemicals in the body that build up and break down to create the noticeable symptoms of old age, like arthritis and senility. As a result of this, the average dwarvish lifespan would be up to 220 years. (Ironically, the elves, long boasted to be immortal, do have oxidising agents and have an average lifespan of 150 years.)

Because the majority of dwarvish fat was concentrated on both the buttocks beneath the skin and inside the mammary glands, dwarves were natural-born six-packs and even eight-packs.

Dwarves had a limit of hair colors. They could be yellow, orange, white (contrary to popular belief, not due to leucism), yellow-white (not to be confused with yellow dwarves or white dwarves), brown and red. Red is the most common hair color, seen in 73% of the species. The black dwarves were just the recessive variants of the white dwarves. If the blue dwarves really existed beyond mere anecdote, then they'd be recessive variants of the red dwarves.

In East Asia, Central Asia and Russia, 24 to 60 percent of the dwarvish genetics within those regions were revealed to come from an unknown species of Draculodon, an equivalent of the Denisovans of back home. Since we have found no bones of that mystery species, we have no idea as to what the Great Lakes Earth equivalents of the Denisovans would be. Goblins? Orcs? Giants? Trolls? Ogres? Cyclopes? ¿Klingons?

What is better known is that the dwarves had coexisted with the elves far longer than we had with the Neandertals. Whereas the species that gestated the cliche of the caveman became extinct roughly 30,000 years ago back home, the dwarves held on all over the temperate portions of North America, Asia and Europe until as recently as 3,000 years before the present day. Since then, 90% of the dwarvish genome has survived in the elvish genome. East Asia, Central Asia and Russia has the highest concentration of dwarf genes, with 90% of the genome still alive in 44% of those regions' elvish populations.

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Description

Art by

The evolutionary history of primates is long and extremely confusing. According to the molecular clock, the last common ancestor of all primates lived between 90 and 63 million years ago, yet we have found no fossils dating from that particular window. Apparently, the dry-nosed haplorhines (tarsiers, monkeys and apes) came first, with the wet-nosed strepsirrhines (lemurs, bushbabies and lorises) diverging from the haplorhines between 90 and 55 million years ago. There is conjecture that Plesiadapiformes were archaic primates, but there is doubt as to whether modern primates actually evolved from them. Two other groups, Adapiformes and Omomyoidea, throw a monkey wrench at the case because both groups appeared suddenly in the fossil record with no physical evidence of past transitions, and they were already diverse by the Eocene. So were those two groups already around to witness the Paleocene-Eocene Thermal Maximum, much less the fall of the dinosaur empire one million decades earlier?

Well, whatever the case, as much as 1750 species of primates have been identified on Great Lakes Earth, and they occupy a wide variety of niches that, compared to mammals of back home, seem completely random. Despite this, however, you can still find monkeys here. However, while they are still haplorhines (dry-nosed primates), the "monkeys" of Great Lakes Earth are not simians. They evolved from a totally different ancestor, and so the monkeys are called "xenosimians". (Not the most creative name choice, but what can you do?)

The xenosimians debuted in North America around 53 million years ago and, while the climate was still comfortably hot and steamy, migrated both ways--westward into Asia and southward into South America. They didn't reach Africa until 30 million years ago, when a landbridge connected Africa to Europe. When Africa was eventually cut off from the rest of the world again over 25 million years ago, the African xenosimians evolved into a wide variety of monkeys and apes. By 15 million years ago alone, 25 different genera of apes ruled Africa. One million years later, they were all gone.

Yet Allopithecidae, the family in which we'd eventually find the elves and dwarves, thrived in South America. But why? Why would South America luck out whereas Africa, the preconceived cradle of humankind, didn't? The surprisingly simple answer is this--South America's apes are less specialized than Africa's apes. Whereas Africa had multiple micromanagers from the gibbon-like alkubaras to the giganto-like kikombas, South America had more omnivorous apes that could move both on the ground and in the trees.

Humanity on Great Lakes Earth deserves its own category because in many ways, its evolution parallels our own. Like us, mankind on Great Lakes Earth is one of its latest inventions.

By almost three million years ago, there were less than a dozen genera of ape-men, including the one parallel to Homo. Their similarities to humans are so much greater than their differences that it’s been difficult to come up with a scientific name for these allopithecids. Many names have been considered—Pseudopithecus, Parahomo, even Ochialthiniopithecus, which literally means “Not a True Ape”. Ultimately, it was one of our scientists’ daughter who came up with a name for us. She called the humans of Great Lakes Earth Draculodon, meaning “Dracula’s Tooth”, because of the genus’s long, razor-sharp canines, which is something we see with baboons, not apes. Indeed, it is the teeth that mark one of the differences between Homo and Draculodon. Our teeth are smaller than a chimpanzee’s, yet the teeth of a chimpanzee aren’t as thick on the enamel. But the teeth of Draculodon are really the best of both worlds—big as a chimp’s and thick as a man’s. Another difference is that they have kept the monkey brains and enlarged them—on average, to 2.7% of their body weight, higher than the two percent that our brains weigh. Whereas chimpanzees share 98% of our DNA, the last of the satyr species, Silenus aristaeus, shares 96% of its DNA with the last surviving species of Draculodon, suggesting that both genera diverged at earlier dates than our two genera, Pan and Homo. Whereas our divergence happened anywhere between five and seven million years ago, theirs might have happened between ten and 13 million years ago, right on the heels of the Miocene-Pleistocene Cold Snap. Still, there are some morphological similarities. Perhaps the most noticeable are the horns.

We don't know where the horns came from, and the question of "why" doesn't have a singular answer. They are usually pointed backwards, which could work as a deterrent against potential ambush predators. They could also be used for thermoregulation, which is a pattern often observed back home with many of our ruminants. Curiously, we have found that the horns have also created extra sinus space, which would help them filter out unsavory particles from the air they breathe and lighten themselves in weight. It's plain to see that the horns are sexually dimorphic, a pattern similar to many, many other horned mammals back home.

In the roughly three million years of the genus's existence, there have been more than 13 species, most of which had never left their traditional South American homes. But one eventually broke the mold and crossed the newly formed Panamanian Landbridge, moving northward and colonizing the colder, more temperate Laurasia. About 650,000 years ago, Draculodon freibergensis appeared in North America and eventually managed to colonize the ice-free lands of Asia and Europe. The common name for this species is "dwarf", and they had come up with numerous ways of adjusting to the cold, making them an ice age success story.

Males averaged in at 48 inches in height and 200 pounds in weight, whereas the females averaged in at 43 inches in height and 168 pounds in weight. Being shorter but heavier than their Neandertal analogues may have been one of their methods of keeping warm, as a higher mass compressed into a smaller body means less heat can escape. But that may not be enough. Curiously, the dwarves grew their hairs with the seasons. In the summer, a dwarf could be as clean-shaven as a human baby. But during the winter, that same dwarf would now be wearing a dense combination of facial and androgenic hairs, as much as three inches in some places. So in dwarvish society, beards are just part of the annual winter fad. And both sexes could wear them!

Contributing to their extra weight was their bone structure. Compared to us humans, dwarves had lower, more elongated craniums; larger brow ridges; larger noses; larger shoulder joints; larger, broader rib cages; broader hips; larger elbow joints; shorter forearms; larger hip joints; larger and thicker knees, shorter and more flattened calves and larger ankle joints. This could help add more resilience to the cold.

Like all other xenosimians, dwarvish blood has such high concentrations of plasma that they could resist a certain number of deadly diseases. Indeed, there are no reports of dwarves or any Draculodon species suffering sexually transmitted infections similar to syphilis or even AIDS. But dwarvish blood had an extra twist to help them adapt to the cold. As well as high concentrations of plasma, dwarvish blood also possessed high concentrations of antifreezing compounds. They could also reduce the volume of circulation when the weather was cold enough, to reduce frostbite.

However, whereas freezing was a seasonal threat, overheating was more perennial. How could the dwarves keep themselves warm but not too warm? Perhaps that is why their noses were so large--to release excess body heat. This may sound counterintuitive, but in a frigid ice age climate, sweating would actually be a far bigger detriment.

One final method of surviving the ice age world may involve leptin, the hormone responsible for the sensation of hunger. Leptin production was at its lowest in the summer and autumn months, when food was readily abundant. In that span of time, an average dwarf would need as much as 100,000 calories of food per day. But what could they possibly eat? Being smaller and stockier than their Neandertal analogues would render them incapable of pursuing fast-moving prey, limiting them to ambushing larger, less maneuverable prey, like puaka or odontotyrannus. But the dwarvish body build might have also forced them to make some compensations, like fishing and trapping and birding and even domesticating. Yes, it turns out that it was the dwarves who domesticated the golden warg and the gnoll into the dogs and hyenas that are still around today, and it was the dwarves who invented horticulture, the art of gardening for desirable fruits, berries and roots. (Leaves and bark are so low on energy that all xenosimians tend to avoid them unless in a medical emergency, the most extreme example being the obligately carnivorous werewolves.)

Come the winter, the dwarves' caloric demands would drop to only 600 calories per day, far lower than the 1500-3000 calories we humans would need per day to survive. That was when leptin production was at its highest, most likely as a means of surviving scarcity. So the dwarves already had quite the rollercoaster of calories from season to season. But how would a pregnant female dwarf survive such a swing? Actually, she wouldn't. In her 448-day pregnancy, the rate would not change--at least 120,000 calories per day. How would she and her developing child survive that? Well, some populations lived entirely on seafood, which was very high on calories. Other populations were migratory, following the herds with the seasons. And when all else fails, the mom-to-be would simply drink the milk from her mates, which could be 13% fat.

A pregnancy lasting 448 days would ultimately mean giving birth to a more developed baby. Indeed, from birth, a dwarf's brain would only be 35% the size of the adult's. (Which would be anywhere between 1.6 and 1.89 pounds.) By contrast, the human baby has a brain 28% the size of the adult's. It doesn't sound like much of a difference, but you'd be surprised. It would take the baby as much as six months to stand up without assistance. Because they wouldn't have the same degree of insulation, the children would be furry 24/7 until growing out of their "baby hairs" at the age of 12. At the age of 15, they would become sexually mature. At this point, a dwarf's growth stage started to become a bit peculiar. To adjust to the high-stress life they lived in, they seemed to forego the middle age phase and could reach old age with the body of a young adult. That is because, unique among xenosimians, dwarves lacked oxidising agents, the chemicals in the body that build up and break down to create the noticeable symptoms of old age, like arthritis and senility. As a result of this, the average dwarvish lifespan would be up to 220 years. (Ironically, the elves, long boasted to be immortal, do have oxidising agents and have an average lifespan of 150 years.)

Because the majority of dwarvish fat was concentrated on both the buttocks beneath the skin and inside the mammary glands, dwarves were natural-born six-packs and even eight-packs.

Dwarves had a limit of hair colors. They could be yellow, orange, white (contrary to popular belief, not due to leucism), yellow-white (not to be confused with yellow dwarves or white dwarves), brown and red. Red is the most common hair color, seen in 73% of the species. The black dwarves were just the recessive variants of the white dwarves. If the blue dwarves really existed beyond mere anecdote, then they'd be recessive variants of the red dwarves.

In East Asia, Central Asia and Russia, 24 to 60 percent of the dwarvish genetics within those regions were revealed to come from an unknown species of Draculodon, an equivalent of the Denisovans of back home. Since we have found no bones of that mystery species, we have no idea as to what the Great Lakes Earth equivalents of the Denisovans would be. Goblins? Orcs? Giants? Trolls? Ogres? Cyclopes? ¿Klingons?

What is better known is that the dwarves had coexisted with the elves far longer than we had with the Neandertals. Whereas the species that gestated the cliche of the caveman became extinct roughly 30,000 years ago back home, the dwarves held on all over the temperate portions of North America, Asia and Europe until as recently as 3,000 years before the present day. Since then, 90% of the dwarvish genome has survived in the elvish genome. East Asia, Central Asia and Russia has the highest concentration of dwarf genes, with 90% of the genome still alive in 44% of those regions' elvish populations.

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