These are not your standard zombies. No, they are something far more wicked about them...an intelligence that most undead lack, A drive to make you like them. They are a wretched thing to observe! All Broken and bloody, as if tortured for days on end...their sight alone is enough to drive one into a fit of fear. Luckily for us still alive, they only seem to haunt old ruins and the like...but if someone could harness their anger, only the gods could save us. Instinct: Break the living

• Flail away with tattered limbs
• Terrify the living

" As big as a tree, and dumb as an ox...but don't let that fool you. They can hold their breath for a long time, and are more then willing to sit under the brackish water, in the muck and slime, just waiting for a tasty treat to wander by. And they are strong as Hell! I've seen one snap a gators neck like a twig...imagine what it would do to you! And even if you manage to get away from one, there's always a few more nearby...waiting to cave your head in with a club, or drown you like an ant." Pither Moore-Swamp Ranger Instinct: Hide under water, hunt and gather, protect territory

• bash with club, squash in hands, drown the puny human

" As big as a tree, and dumb as an ox...but don't let that fool you. They can hold their breath for a long time, and are more then willing to sit under the brackish water, in the muck and slime, just waiting for a tasty treat to wander by. And they are strong as Hell! I've seen one snap a gators neck like a twig...imagine what it would do to you! And even if you manage to get away from one, there's always a few more nearby...waiting to cave your head in with a club, or drown you like an ant." Pither Moore-Swamp Ranger Instinct: Hide under water, hunt and gather, protect territory

• bash with club, squash in hands, drown the puny human

Sir Kindlin was a living legend...A champion of the common man, slayer of Dragons, defender of the faith, a Paladin beyond reproach. Far and wide he traveled dispensing justice to the wicked and hope to the down trodden...but something changed. Maybe it was the bloodshed? maybe it was the hypocrisy of the church? maybe the dark places he ventured and fell forces he fought corrupted his mind and soul? No one knows for sure...but now he is a legend of a different kind. A bloodthirsty murderer, A twisted parody of his former self, bent on death and destruction. When he appears, a wake of vultures await a feast...His name is only whispered now. Instinct: Kill the good, Make them suffer, Take no prisoners

• Merciless attack
• Fight Dirty

When the fog is thick, and the tides are right, that's when they come. Seaweed wrapped about their bloated bodies, the reek of death hanging all about them...slowly they shamble from the sea, toward the lights of an unsuspecting village. They've come to add new recruits to their ranks or slaughter all who resist. By dawn all that is left are shattered doors, broken glass, carnage and drag marks toward the sea. Instinct: Drown the living, Attack coastal towns, Roll in with the fog

• deceptivly fast and strong

You find them in every city...hanging around the docks, or in some seedy tavern, or skulking around the rat haunted alley ways. They rule through fear and intimidation, a blade never far from their hand. Sometimes they are protectors of the common man, but more often then not they feed off their vices...they run the numbers, they traffic with pirates and highway men, they pimp, they steal, and they will use extreme violence to protect what's theirs...Warriors, come out and playyyy... Instinct: Fight for the sake of fighting, Prey on the weak, Defend our turf

• Quick with a blade
• hit em low, hit em high!
• Assemble the crew!

Some straw, some old cloths, a few sticks, and a pumpkin for a head...oh, and dark magic to infuse it with life. They are creepy enough standing still, but when they start stalking toward you, its terrifying! Look into their eyes too long and you will be frozen with fear...then comes the pitchfork. Instinct: Watch the fields, Stand still till the last moment, Scare them

• Spring to life with shocking speed
• fearful gaze

He lives on the end of the black swamp, or the lonely hills, or in the bowels of the Red forest...basically anywhere humans are not. Was it his solitude that drove him mad? or his madness that drove him to solitude? whatever the case, you best stay clear! He suffers no trespassers! Watch your step! His traps are everywhere! Instinct: To be left alone, Protect his/her home, Teach them a lesson, Set a trap

• ambush, hide in the shadows

After a long time at sea, almost any woman will due...but not this one! She haunts lonely shorelines, backwater creeks, and blasted, salt-marshes...Alone, because no one can stand her wretched appearance, and fishy smell. Don't get too close! if her steely claws and crooked teeth don't get you, that evil eye of hers will! If the Gods are kind, you will die quickly...If not, you will be dragged back to her lair to serve as a mate, a father for her wretched spawn! Instinct: Inflict pain, Destroy beauty, Find a mate

• Rend flesh
• hide in the shadows
• evil eye