This is what happens, I always told 'em, that ol' house Mr Potter lived in is starting to smell real bad I'd say. But would they listen, oh no, they just keep blabbering on about taxes this and tribute that, nobody has time for the renovation of the beggar district. And now it's eaten Harry. Who am I going to play chess with now? Instinct: to envelop

• Expel vile gases, consume something / someone

In the filthiest gutters and the most neglected of gardens, these almost sentient piles of meat take up home. Luring scavengers such as rats and flies they envelop and consume them, steadily growing larger over time. Rarely is one found that is larger than a small dog or potted plant, but there have been reports of abandoned houses that have been overtaken by their sickly smell, hinting at the dark fate of previous occupants. Instinct: to add to its mass

• Expel vile gases
• Cause sickness in those around it

You see 'im sometimes - out there in his dinghy, his lantern casting shadows across still water. Some say he's a spirit o' the sea, a lonely lover of the waves forever trapped by her chilly whims. Others say he's an angel, sent to rid the world o' pirates and the likes. All I say is that you best hope he just passes you by. Instinct: To fish the wicked

• Drags the unwilling to sea
• Command predators of the sea
• Pronounces secret evils

Easily confused for goblin children, if not for their elongated earlobs and arms and little pot bellies. The littlings are the simple-minded slaves of goblins, though what keeps them slaves is anyone's guess. They seem quite content with being fed a diet of mouse kebabs and rewarded with gaudy little trinkets. Quick on their feet, there have been troops of trained littling tumblers, able to twist, jump and bound with tremendous dexterity. Of course, the cute and cuddly perception all changed on the day Ramsford was overrun by a hoard of 30,000 littlings. They poured out of the tunnels into the earth, overwhelming the inhabitants. The poor souls, both the golbin masters and and the human masters of the goblins were picked and nibbled apart by 60,000 hands and 30,000 mouths. Instinct: To serve the master

• Somewhat intelligently carry out an order
• Rips out anything not bolted down
• Pour forth from nearby tunnels and holes

"They called me mad. Me! Just because I dreamed of a world made free from want! You see, if you could just feed poor people to magic boxes and turn them into gold, literally everything would work itself out . . . economics? What, no, of course I haven't studied them! I'm a wizard, not a businessman!" Instinct: To make meat into treasure

• Eat humanoids and digest them into gold coins
• It LOOKS like an ordinary treasure chest . . .

The Skull Kid was once a child lost in the forest. He will occasionally lead other children to suffer the same fate as his own: life as a faceless and undying spirit of the woods. He hates adults, and will kill them if he can. Wearing ragged clothing and possessing a dreadful void instead of a face, he enjoys music and might leave adventurers alone in exchange for a mask that could serve as a face. Instinct: To bring others into the forest

• Mislead travelers
• Play entrancing music
• Vanish and reappear elsewhere
• Slowly transform the completely lost into Skull Kids
• Summon animated puppets

This is a cat, probably someone's pet cat. Many people think they are "cute" or "affectionate," but in reality there is nothing they love more than killing (especially beginning adventurers). Instinct: To manipulate

• Lure commoners to their dooms
• Appear adorable and loving

There is some debate as to what a wampus cat is: the embodiment of a cursed soul, an earth spirit or harbinger of death. Whatever it is, adventurers should be wary when entering a wampus cat's hunting territory. A wampus cat can strike from several paces away using its four forepaws and without making a whisper of sound while doing it. Instinct: To hunt

• Pounce from the Undergrowth
• Silently Stalk
• Yowl Hauntingly

The Hoarding Dragon, also referred to as the Trash Dragon takes it's kin's attraction to great piles of wealth to unhealthy, obsessive extremes. Where other Dragons will collect hoards of precious metals and jewels, the Hoarder Dragon is not so discerning. It will collect any rubbish, trash, or miscellany it finds. A Trash Dragon's hoard is often made up of worthless items and objects that It has picked up and simply cannot part with. It clings to these things, overstuffing it's lair to the point where it can barely move without causing avalanches of rubbish. Trash Dragons are seen as pitiable, pathetic creatures, but despite the trouble they cause, very few will seek out and kill them. While most of their hoard is worthless junk, there can sometimes be rare magical or valuable items in amongst the dross. Instinct: To hoard trash and mundane items to excess

• When you feel threatened or uneasy, recede into your hoard.
• When your hoard is threatened, make weak arguments as to why you need every single item.
• When they steal something, chase them, and beg for it back
• When they kill you, pass your compulsion to them.

It's an owl, right? But it's an owl the size of a really big outhouse. Also, it lives underground and its beak can drill through rock and it frequently surfaces to snag random people and drag them back to its lair. God, pre-Freeze people were dicks. Instinct: to feed

• Drill through rock or earth
• Grab someone and drag them to its lair
• Gobble a dead person whole