Fish Gods

As blatantly stolen from an idea of Kusch's

• Deep in the trench of Atlan vast Kombacha wades knee-deep in the tall kelp forests, bubbly thoughts aswirl, as natural to all around it as is the forest itself. Nothing knows it from a mountain, no, not the very whales that venture to its depths, nor the landmen watching through their magic eyes in the upper air: and who amongst these oblivious, hurried beings, tiny as krill if yet whale they be, knows aught but that a mountain should walk? Its ponderous treads beget earthquakes.
  
• Implacable, regular as the tides, Shom-Nahak hunts the hot mountains of the East Pacific. Its knife-form clouded by a court of sharks, wheresoever it raids hot tears are wept, small, slowly falling orbs of sweet water staining the buoyant salt. Sharp as jagged coral is the scaly skin of Shom-Nahak.
• Speaking the name is a curse. It feeds, you see, on sense. Its visage, its gaze are endless thrashing madness. Its home is secret. Who knows what streams it swims? Nothing that ever saw it could tell you so. But....one can guess. There are places in the ocean where nothing goes. There are waters that have lain empty longer than the continents have been separated — and no wonder, when even a minnow's feeble mind suffices to cower in terror at it; when even the name is a curse so fierce that even thinking it is forbidden: and that horrid name is Hrou.
  
• Bagro-Hem sleeps, glorious in comfort. The Aleutian Trench is his home, a soon-volcano is his bed: when it erupts, it will not harm him. It will be too small. Clouds of bubbles rise from his myriad vents, intoxicating all the schooling swimmers small and large: hallucinogenerated prophet-fish who speak to no-one of their visions.
  
• Limpugi Gan is the Blessing of the Deep Places. All the life of the Indian Sea gathers about Limpugi Gan. It radiates constant, gentle heat; a soft, moonish light; a soothing current. Constantly it sheds its skin, sloughing it off in large, vitalizing globs: the multitudes about it consume them and are remade, renewed, the same but stronger, larger. When the new skin is peeled forth it has already begun to curl up. There is no other being that suffers as Limpugi Gan suffers, endlessly wasting away.