A mated pair of massive oxen. Huge stamping feet and short, but no less dangerous, horns. Hide that looks like bronze brigandine. Heat radiating in waves from their bodies warping the air. A sudden snort unleashes a gout of fire that scorches the plants around them, except for the wine-colored leafy shrubs they were eating, deadly poison to humans. An overlarge insect bursts from the fire. The popping sound seems to delight the bull, an uncanny grin forming as stray flamelets wreathe his head. Instinct: to delight in torching things

• Exude waves of debiitating heat
• Snort a gout of spreading flame
• Pin them with a hoof for proper charring

The Man-Trap waits for a solitary victim, perhaps an expeditionary party's scout, searching ahead for danger. But here lies not danger, but opportunity: a respite, a treasure, a lost child, companionship. The Man-Trap cannot offer details like speech or coin, but it is canny enough to search out the desires of those it preys upon, and once they have entered its maw, which is often camoflauged with the landscape surrounding, then the Man-Trap reveals its nature, as the ground moves and folds over upon itself, trapping the victim within. The body of the Man-Trap is root-like, though it can burrow to escape if endangered in the course of its meal, dragging the trap pod behind it through the earth. Instinct: to devour and collect treasure

• Entrap someone in a spiny pod
• Lure them in according to their desires and self-image

A disgusting chimera formed by the changing rains that sweep across the lands. Somehow, this chimera seems to be stable enough to breed true, creating a new and disturbing species. The cranium, snout, back, and tail of this small, climbing mammal have been completely replaced with a spongy fungus that billows out from the animal, with a few fluted protrusions at the front and a lattice-like structure at the back. Spore-filled slime drips from the flutes and occasionally is projected by sneeze-like spasms. Infection with spores is fast acting and can range from a disgusting skin condition to a fatal organ corruption. These creatures are mysterious in nature and can be found engaging in a variety of activities with an unpredictable disposition to intruders. Instinct: to reproduce and spread

• Shed a spore-filled slime onto the ground
• Invade a slime-coated body with virulent fungal spores

These nordfolk are the most common of their ilk. Farmers at home, they have traveled with their captains to raid other lands. They have some training with blade and shield, though, especially with forming a shield wall and taking opportunistic jabs through it. In Far Abscissa, they protect the slaver parties and the caravans bringing loot to the shores for return to the north. Instinct: to get their share

• Stun someone with a blow to the head
• Regroup and cover allies with shields

The wardens of the scarps were made by the magic of Qirtaj before a disaster destroyed that land. These beings are intelligent chimeric centaurs. They once inhabited Ma'Azili Enclave and patrolled the banks of the rivers to protect Qirtaj from monsters without. They have long since lost their Enclave and their purpose, but they wander the scarps still, warning travelers away from the cursed Qirtaj highlands to protect them from the secrets that sleep there. This one has the head of a cockatoo, an armored torso, a camel's hindbody, salamander-like forelimbs, a pair of goat's hindlegs, a boar's forelegs, and an iguana's tail. Instinct: to prevent passage into cursed lands

• block a bottleneck with its body and armaments
• create mirror images of itself to confound foes

A rocky tor juts up from the bottom of a depression, still and straight, brush and vines radiating out from its base. The vines are feelers waiting to awaken the enormous monster that lies hibernating and disguised. The creature is the mature form of a being that spends the rest of its life stages deep beneath the earth in hidden magma caverns. It wants only to sleep and eat, and has crawled its way up to the surface of the chasm to do so. Instinct: to wake and feed

• Swallow creatures whole
• Disguise its sleeping body as a rocky tor
• Create illusory rock formations to block escape

Out in the scarps, somehow, this thing was left. Possibly dropped from a devastating height onto sharp rocks, exploding in a shower of gore, bone, and organs. Each scattered piece yet remains unliving, with a will to add to itself by rending apart the living. Few living things of appreciable size ever venture into the region. Perhaps this was the reason it was left here. Whatever accursed oil permeates the fats and tissues of this thing is able to spread into other dead flesh, animating it and passing along its terrible properties. Instinct: to add to itself

• Ensnare with ropes of sinew and organs
• Appear to be nothing more than a pile of gore
• Ruin a piece of gear with acid

The Silver Plains are so named for the glittering, metallic pollen that often covers the grains and grasses of the wide fields. The effect is most pronounced when the cycles of life are exaggerated by succession of wildfires and flash floods. Sometimes villagers even report sightings of strand-like clouds drifting across an otherwise clear sky, glowing as though filled with silver-hued sunlight. Both of these phenomena are the product of rare elemental beings drawn to the place due to the astounding lifecycle of the area. These beings formed of the raw energies of creation are an amorphous web of strands of shining silver light, with dozens of malleable heads and limbs. They settle over the grasses to bask, and are quick to discharge their potential on those that disturb them. Though they do not seem to harm, their alien perspective gives them little regard for the will of others. (Use their moves in escalating sequence) Instinct: to revel undisturbed in cycles and growth

• Heal their wounds and debilities with a gentle touch
• Clasp them and pour overwhelming, unnerving energy into their form
• Bond with them, overriding their being with glorious light
• Wield the bonded living as joyful puppets

These man-sized, stubby-headed, six-legged lizards may be found in one of two states: lazily basking, or in a cannibalistic frenzy. For much of the time, they eat and drink very little, and may be confused for strange rocks. The antenna ridges on their backs collect energy from their surroundings to feed their growing brains. But when they reach a plateau of mental maturity, they must feast on brains to continue to develop. Commonly, this is done via cannibalism. It takes a lot of work for them to crack open the protective casing surrounding the brains ensconced in each other's backs. Luckily, they are able to wield rocks in their forelimbs. It is said that ancient brainy lizards may outstrip human beings in intelligence if they are not first devoured by pteranodon. And rumors exist of lizards with strange powers, perhaps gained by devouring the brains of sorcerers! Instinct: to consume brains

• Cannibalize its fellows to evolve its intellect
• Understand and thwart enemy tactics
• Wield a discarded weapon

It is impossibly large for an avian. Its shoulders are on par with that of an elephant, but it's upright posture carries it's head several feet higher, allowing it to plunge it's long, bony beak forward an alarming distance. It walks on short legs that end in gripping talons and on bony wings, thin body arching up above. It is adorned with quill-like feathers of multi-hued radiance, with a large comb atop its skull. It seems unable to launch itself from the ground, requiring a height to glide down from and pick up speed, but is unhindered once aloft and prefers not to land for this reason. Instinct: to feed its young

• Swoop down from the sky and pluck up a morsel
• Drop them from an astounding height