"Good morning," the Thing in the Well calls, "And how are we doing this morning Mrs. Westmen?" -- "Just wonderfully. How have you been keeping, Thing?" -- "Fine, fine. A little peckish, a bit in the mood for, you know, a nibble, a bite to eat. But don't worry yourself, perfectly fine." -- "It's quite alright Thing, I was just thinking I should bring by some lunch. How does a ham sound?" -- "You are too kind Mrs. Westmen, just too kind..." -- The Thing in the Well has lived in the village for longer than anyone can remember. It is traditional to fix regular meals for the Thing, and to present it with a sheep or pig on special occasions. Years ago a boy went down the well on a dare. He never returned. The subject has not been broached in the presence of the Thing. Instinct: To devour

• Politely collect tribute
• Leverage townspeople through secrets
• Purify water
• Hide in darkened waters

"The Old Ones, they knew much. Not the alchemy of man nor the sorcery of warlocks and the like. No, this is the magic of gears and pulleys, the sorcery of science. Watch your every step in the tower: be wary or you may call to life the ancient defense systems. You'll know the Defenders have awoken long before you face them, that's for sure; they're louder than a stomping giant and their hulls scrape the stone walls. You'll hear them coming, I'm sure you can avoid them, go on in the tower. Me? I... I'll stay out here. Got to have a lookout post, right?"

Instinct: Destroy all Intruders! *click* Defend the domain!

• Display immense and uncaring strength
• Soldier on, ignoring all damage until the last
• Reveal a hidden function from the depths of its gearworks

The mating call of the otyugh is a horrible, blaring cry that sounds like a cross between an elephant dying and an over-eager vulture. The otyugh spends much of its time partly submerged in filthy water and prefers eating garbage over any other food. As a result, it often grows fat and strong on the offal of orcs, goblins and other cave-dwelling sub-humans. Get too close, however, and you’ll have one of its barbed tentacles dragging you into that soggy, razor-toothed maw. If you get away with your life, best get to a doctor, or your victory may be short lived. Instinct: To befoul

• Infect someone with filth fever
• Fling someone or something

Each individual shadow is actually a swarm of tiny, dust-sized demons. No one is quite sure where they come from, or how to kill them, but it is known that children of every species on every plane of existence know to fear the darkness . . . Instinct: To spread

• Devour flesh
• Impersonate voices
• Absorb knowledge from those it kills

Scarabaeus pyractomena! What a delightful creature—see how its carapace glitters in the light of our torches? Not too close now, they’re temperamental, you see. The fire in their belly isn’t just metaphorical, no. Watch as I goad the beast. Aha! A spout of flame! Unexpected, isn’t it? One of these creatures alone, if it comes up from below, can be a hellish nuisance to a farmstead or village. A whole swarm? There’s a reason they call it a conflagration of fire beetles. Instinct: To enflame

• Undermine the ground
• Burst from the earth
• Spray forth flames

It seems that the common diet for these creatures is something enigmatically referred to as "Green Soup" or alternatively something else known as "Blue String Pudding". It is not clear what these things are, but only these creatures seem to eat them. Likely some kind of remnant diet of their former lives. However, when these creatures get too hungry, especially from lack of these peculiar foods... sometimes a terrifying transformation takes hold and they become one of the "Soupstarved", bulking up significantly, they lose a lot of their intellect but seem to let loose terrifying howls in their musical voices, and are full of a berserker rage as they try to feed on anything that might make them feel whole once more. Instinct: To feed

• Explode into action

Despite being scavengers, clangers have some peculiar sound-based knacks. Their language is inherently musical, this is true. But a fair number of them are seemingly able to naturally or perhaps trained in being able to extract music (and moreover sound itself, although it seems music is more valuable) from their surroundings, for later storage or use in some way. If desperate, these 'musicallists' can try to shape the sounds that they've gathered on the spot in order to force out some arcane puissance. Not always a good idea, especially for them. But who knows what trick they might pull out, if threatened... Instinct: To acquire

• Harvest sound itself
• Improvise dangerous words of power on the spot

Strange, rat-like humanoids from the stars is a simple way of putting it. Technically correct but it does not describe the beauty of their language, or the ingenuity of their scavenging ways. Their scavenging ways are obvious given what they carry and the patchwork armour that they wear. Some sages maintain that they are the remnant of a star-travelling civilization that collapsed, and left its peoples scattered in remote, barren places where their foes could not find them. Now they subsist on junk that falls to their homes. Although not inherently vicious, if presented with a great enough opportunity, especially a great enough bargain they can be great allies. Instinct: To scavenge

• Unerringly find things of use or value
• Disappear in a cloud of metal scrap
• Whistle a song to call more of its tribe

An evil, four-armed windsock. That's the best way to describe these abominations. Cone-shaped, with a giant round mouth on the flat end. How they see anything is anyone's guess. Powerfully magical and extremely alien, phaerimm ("Fehrihmm" in the tongue of the Tarrakhuna) are unfortunately understandable only in the sense that they delight in inflicting pain and suffering on others. But we're in luck; their love of inflicting pain applies to others of their kind as much as to mortal-kin, which makes "society" very difficult for them. Few ever leave their prison deep within the under-earth, and those only with the help of others, usually binding them to service (as you can never trust their words). Instinct: To bend reality

• Twist the powers of the earth to its will
• Its magic never does only what you see
• Evocations, illusions, and compulsions
• Pain that lingers brings it joy
• The things of the underearth heed its call

The Queen Bee never ventures far from her hives, but will defend them voraciously. She commands near endless swarms of bees who will gladly fight to the death and defend her with their lives, so actually approaching or hitting the Queen is very difficult. Instinct: Protect the Hive

• Command the swarm