"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

Instinct: Atacar e assustar invasores do seu 'reino'

• Mostrar o pior lado da Ambição
• Conduz ratazanas a sua defesa
• Afoga o heroi em ratazanas

Wildlife upon the alien shores of the moon itself are strange indeed. Condors have their own representatives in the lunar courts it is said, and although they maintain quite the resemblance to terrestrial condors, their time spent up above has elevated them both literally and figuratively. Supposedly taken back to the moon by some traveller or another, the exact origin matters not. What matters more is how their power has grown, and so has their intellect. Arrogant and predatory, they are a threat if any weakness is shown. So try not to do that. Instinct: To fly free

• Strike fast from upon high
• Retreat to upon high
• Call forth to more of your avian brethren
• Fascinate peons with a rain of your silvery feathers

Sealife on the moon? It's more likely than you think. After all, the moon is the tides and the tides are the moon. It stands to reason that what lies within the seas is reflected on and in the moon as well. It's just on the moon lobsters can grow to sizes far beyond imagining, and be girded in silvery shells. And also are incredibly aggressive, especially towards lycanthropes - after all it's hard to stay fed if you're so big, unless your prey can regenerate of course. Some even talk of them arriving on our world on moonbeams just to hunt werewolves or similar that prowl on nights of the full moon - but that might just be fanciful thinking... Instinct: To feed

• Smash through everything in a rush of incredible momentum
• Spit a stream of super high-pressure moon-walter

Life is good, is it not? Except some would say it is merely a chance to suffer. Giant Lucants are evidence of this. Ant-like creatures, gigantic in size - but that is not their only danger. They are infused with the life-giving positive energy of their origin place, and so is their venom. Those afflicted with this venom find their senses overwhelmed, and their minds unable to keep up with their bodies, and other such failings - perhaps one could adapt to this and become stronger, but Lucants generally do not allow this to happen. Those dragged off to this so-called Brighter Place should hope that its alien atmosphere destroys them swiftly, and that they don't simply spend the rest of eternity being feasted upon and never dying. Cheery stuff, life. Instinct: To feed

• Inject victims with positive energy-laced venom
• Draw upon positive energy-based magic
• Manipulate things infused with positive energy with unerring ease
• Split into rapidly growing sibling-children at an alarming rate
• Move to or from the Brighter Place on a whim

Heal Fire Breath & Dark Breath Break weapon Provoke Dragon Fear Instinct: Acaparar, robar y destruir

• Aliento de fuego
• Tormenta de meteoros