Beasts

Ramidrejus are snake-bodied weasels with a talent for digging pit traps and sniffing out gold. Most ramidrejus have green fur, often patterned with darker and lighter shades of green and brown suggestive of a poisonous snake’s scales. Though not venomous, ramidrejus are fully capable of crushing small prey or biting and draining the blood from larger foes.  Ramidrejus are sometimes born into the litters of normal or giant weasel families who live near wild areas touched by fey magic. Belligerent and feisty, they are usually killed or driven off by their birth mothers, who are unnerved by their otherworldly nature. Ramidrejus that survive their infancy grow quickly to adulthood in the space of a week and live solitary lives sometimes lasting 300 years or more.  Due to their fey inf luence, all ramidrejus instinctively understand a small amount of Sylvan and can respond through facial expressions or tapping their feet, if not actual words.  Ramidrejus are unnaturally attracted to gold and often decorate their burrows with gold nuggets, gold coins, and stolen gold jewelry, which they protect with a savage ferocity. Unscrupulous gold miners have been known to capture ramidrejus and force them to sniff out and dig up caches of gold, though the creatures’ unpredictable tempers often cause this arrangement to end in bloodshed. Kinder souls who bribe a ramidreju with gold rather than force it into captivity find that the creatures will occasionally form a powerful lifelong friendship with such a benefactor, though the ramidreju’s desire for gold can mean that its ally makes little profit from this arrangement.  Ramidrejus average around 5-1/2 feet in length and weigh 100 pounds.   

A darkmantle’s tentacle-span measures just under 5 feet—when attached to a cave roof and disguised as a stalactite, its length varies from 2 to 3 feet. A typical darkmantle weighs 40 pounds. The creatures’ heads and bodies are usually the color of basalt or dark granite, but their webbed tentacles can change color to match their surroundings. The darkmantle isn’t a particularly good climber, but it can cling to a cave roof like a bat, hanging by the hooks at the ends of its tentacles so that its dangling body looks nearly indistinguishable from a stalactite. In this hidden position, the darkmantle waits for prey to pass beneath, at which point it drops and swoops down to attack its victim, slamming its body against the foe and attempting to wrap its webbed tentacles around the target. If the darkmantle misses its prey, it swoops back up and drops again until its prey is vanquished or the darkmantle is grievously injured (in which case the creature flutters back up to the roof to hide and hope its “prey” leaves it alone). The darkmantle’s inborn ability to cloak the area around it in magical darkness gives it an additional advantage over foes that rely upon light to see. Darkmantles prefer to dwell and hunt in the caves and passageways that are closest to the surface, as these tend to possess more traffic for the monsters to feed upon. Yet they do not confine themselves to these dark caverns, and can sometimes be found dwelling in ruined fortresses or even in the sewers of bustling cities. Anywhere food is plentiful and there’s a ceiling to cling to is a possible den for a darkmantle. A darkmantle’s life cycle is swift—young grow to maturity in a matter of months, and most die of old age after only a few years. As a result, generations of darkmantles quickly accrue, and over the years the evolution of these creatures is similarly swift. In this manner, a cavern’s ecosystem can have a significant effect on a group of darkmantles’ appearance, abilities, and tactics. Aquatic caverns might develop darkmantles that can swim, while those beset with volcanism might generate darkmantles with a resistance to fire. Other darkmantle variants might develop much stonier hides, and instead of swooping down to crush prey might simply drop and pierce them through with their stalactite-like lengths. The deepest, darkest caverns are rumored to host darkmantles of incredible size, capable of smothering multiple human-sized foes at once in their leathery folds.

Blindheims are grotesque, frog-like creatures that dwell beneath the surface, subsisting on meals of fungi, rodents, and other underground creatures. They live in the darkest, dampest regions of cavernous sprawls, particularly enjoying underground bogs, lakes, rivers, and swamps. Although not aquatic, blindheims are excellent swimmers. They prefer to latch onto branches or rock outcroppings, where they maintain the high ground while in pursuit of food. They use the light from their eyes to attract prey, but go dark when larger creatures approach. A blindheim uses its blinding gaze to disorient both prey and possible threats, then deactivates its gaze to scuttle away in the dark if the threat is too great. In very large caverns inhabited by blindheims, distant areas often flicker from brightly lit to absolutely dark as the creatures feed and flee. Though of animal-level intelligence, blindheims are cunning enough to coordinate their hunting tactics with others of their kind, using one creature to act as a lookout and make hit-and-run attacks with its gaze until its fellows can arrive to help finish off the prey. Blindheims can convey simple information through gestures and flashes of their lights, and tend to be rather silent in combat, adding an eerie element to battles with them. They cannot be taught to perform humanoid-appropriate labors and thus make poor slaves, though the duergar and drow sometimes use them as bait or distractions when raiding. Other races have been known to train these creatures as mobile light sources when going on long underground expeditions. Stout and thick-skinned, a blindheim is just under 4 feet in height and weighs 150 pounds. A blindheim gives birth to small litters of three or four young. Though gestation can last up to a full year, it only takes about 4 years for a blindheim to mature and become self-reliant, at which point the creatures generally form broods that stick together, only striking out on their own if their brethren have perished. Blindheims can live for up to 25 years.

A pipefox is a foot-long, furry, magical snake with the head of a fox. Often found either climbing in trees or snaking around pipes, these curious and stealthy creatures prefer to skulk about to observe and learn. Neither malicious nor particularly beneficial, pipefoxes love to gather knowledge and sometimes disseminate what they’ve acquired to those they find worthy. Desirous of knowledge, no matter how obscure, these creatures only see other like-minded creatures worthy of their interaction. Though they might become curious about a tribe of barbarians, take sudden interest in learning the cant of a local group of thieves, or even study the method of distribution for the local brewery, they watch such things from a distance, never interacting with such “lesser minds.” But if a pipefox finds a creature that loves knowledge as much as it does, it becomes intrigued, and after spending a period of time observing such a creature, will eventually muster up the courage to make the relationship more personal. Many pipefoxes are especially intrigued by spellcasters, and sometimes they offer to serve them as either familiars or confidants. Pipefoxes are secretive by nature, and even when they make themselves known, they can be shy and evasive, both physically and intellectually. They often see knowledge as a type of spiritual currency, and are hesitant to give their knowledge away unless they gain something in return. Some believe pipefoxes are the spirits of legendary scribes and lore masters given new form. Others believe the creatures are related to kami, and serve to preserve the world’s knowledge. A spellcaster of at least 7th level who has the Improved Familiar feat may select the pipefox as a familiar, but only after the pipefox has agreed to pledge its services to the spellcaster.

Slurks are frog-like creatures, the descendants of the failed result of a dwarven attempt to domesticate and breed subterranean frogs as food and labor animals. Though the dwarves failed to create suitable livestock, the sticky frog-beasts are often befriended by other underground races. Slurks are carnivores and have a formidable bite, thanks to their massive tusks. Their true strength, however, lies in their foul-smelling and unnatural secretions. The mucus exuded from the slurk’s back is incredibly sticky and quickly hardens into a powerful resin, a quality the creature turns to its advantage by squirting it at intruders and then waiting for it to harden before closing for the kill. At the same time, the liquid excreted by glands on a slurk’s stomach is incredible slippery, allowing the slurk to keep from being immobilized by its own back slime and also making it extremely hard to grapple or maneuver without its consent. Combined with slurks’ natural ability to climb walls and hang from ceilings with ease, these abilities make the foul-smelling creatures extremely desirable to kobolds, who domesticate and train the frog-beasts as powerful mounts and guardians.

Mobats are magical giant bats with wolfish grins and immense wingspans. Survivors of a lost era, they are rarely seen beyond the dark forests and deep caves they haunt. Although mobats are omnivores, they vastly prefer the flavor of fresh meat over that of other prey. Mobats’ fur varies in coloration, from deep auburn to almost black, and their skin is black. A mobat’s wingspan is 15 feet across, and it weighs 250 pounds.

Flail snails are intelligent gastropods that subsist on fungus, mold, and vermin, though they may attack larger creatures in self-defense. Known for their magic-warping shells and club-like tentacles, flail snails roam slowly through subterranean caverns writing great epics in their slime trails.

Savage creatures of nightmare, perytons combine the features of stags, wolves, and great birds of prey. Though vicious beasts, perytons possess all the intelligence of a human. Perytons hunt any creature weaker than themselves, but prefer humanoid prey, as they particularly relish the taste of such creatures’ still-beating hearts. Perytons loathe all other creatures, even their own kind, and adult male perytons often attack one another on sight. However, strong females sometimes lead small family flocks composed of the alpha female, two or three weaker females, and up to six fledglings. The flock drives off males when they come of age, but females are allowed to join the pack when they mature, provided they swear allegiance to the alpha female. Unpaired males frequently attack such flocks in the hope of making off with a mate; failing that, they approach more peacefully, with offers of warm humanoid hearts (or even still-living victims) to attract females. Perytons mate once per year. The mating ritual is short, brutal, and in the end often fatal for the male. Afterward, the female lays a single, foot-tall black egg, which hatches 7 months later. A peryton is 4 feet in length with a wingspan of 11 feet. It weighs 250 pounds.

The basilisk, often called the “King of Serpents,” is in fact not a serpent at all, but rather an eight-legged reptile with a nasty disposition and the ability to turn creatures to stone with its gaze. Folklore holds that, much like the cockatrice, the first basilisks hatched from eggs laid by snakes and incubated by roosters, but little in the basilisk’s physiology lends any credence to this claim. Basilisks live in nearly any terrestrial environment, from forest to desert, and their hides tend to match and reflect their surroundings—a desert-dwelling basilisk might be tan or brown, while one that lives in a forest could be bright green. They tend to make their lairs in caves, burrows, or other sheltered areas, and these dens are often marked by statues of people and animals in lifelike poses—the petrified remains of those unfortunate enough to stumble across the basilisk. Basilisks have the ability to consume the creatures they petrify, their churning stomach acid dissolving and extracting nutrients from the stone, but the process is slow and inefficient, making them lazy and sluggish. As a result, basilisks rarely stalk prey or chase those who avoid their gaze, counting on their stealth and the element of surprise to keep them safe and fed. When not lying in wait for the small mammals, birds, and reptiles that normally make up their diet, basilisks spend their time sleeping in their lairs, and those brave enough to capture basilisks or hide treasure near them find that they make natural guardians and watchdogs. An adult basilisk is 13 feet long, with fully half of that made up by its long tail, and weighs 300 pounds. Some breeds have short, curved horns on their noses or small crests of bony growths topping their heads like crowns. Though normally solitary creatures, coming together only to mate and lay eggs, in particularly dangerous areas small groups may band together for protection and attack intruders en masse. For unknown reasons, weasels and ferrets are immune to the basilisk’s stare, and sometimes sneak into basilisk lairs while a parent is hunting in order to consume its young. Some legends suggest that a basilisk’s blood can transmute common stones into other material, but this is likely a case of witnesses misinterpreting the magical restoration of previously petrified creatures or body parts.

Derros have long used other creatures in their experiments with alchemical and magical augmentation. For the most part, these experiments don’t have the results the derros had in mind, and can be considered qualified successes at best. However, on rare occasions derros actually get it right and come up with a powerful and obedient creature they can train and use.  The cytillipede arose from one of those rare triumphs. Derro alchemists adapted the diet of a species of albino centipede to eat nothing but cytillesh fungus. After these centipedes had endured years of exposure to the fungus and certain magical augmentations, the result was an entirely new species that the derros named the cytillipede.  A cytillipede has a gray segmented body covered in chitin. Patches of cytillesh fungus grow along its back, giving the creature an eerie blue glow. Because of its constant radiance, a cytillipede in the open is fairly easy to spot. Most of the time, a cytillipede is encountered in the company of derros, who use their creations as mounts or to guard their lairs.  In combat, a cytillipede simply rushes at its opponent and makes bite attacks, relying on its cytillesh venom to stun its enemies so it can bite them repeatedly while they deal with the disorientation of sudden short-term memory loss. A cytillipede normally uses its cytillesh flash ability only when it has been seriously wounded or threatened by multiple opponents. A trained cytillipede can also be commanded to use this ability by its rider. Because of their long exposure to cytillesh, derros are unaffected by the cytillesh-based attacks of cytillipedes, and delight in directing them against their foes.  Cytillipedes are most often encountered as part of a derro patrol around a derro lair, usually as mounts. A typical cytillipede is a little over 10 feet long and 3-1/2 feet high, and weighs about 600 pounds.

A yaoguai is a monstrosity born of unnatural magic that combines several creatures into one body, creating a deformed, mismatched monster that slays and escapes its creator as soon as possible. No two yaoguai look the same, but most have similar abilities. Invariably, the torment of its genesis and the ongoing pain of its existence leave a yaoguai violently insane and prone to attacking at the slightest provocation.

Bizarre creatures that feed on thoughts, bakus stay hidden from humanoids and feed on their creativity and dreams as well as their fears and nightmares. Bakus rarely encounter others of their kind, living largely solitary lives. Some sages speculate the creatures are not born, but rather spontaneously manifest as if spun from dreams, nightmares, and creative thoughts. Bakus are about 5 feet long and weigh 100 pounds. Bakus dislike feeding on thoughts concerning themselves, and tend to cease when their target begins thinking of the baku. For this reason, bakus keep hidden in settlements, floating in the evening air above bedrooms and boarding houses, siphoning sustenance from the dreaming populace. Bakus themselves do not sleep. Given their connection to dreams and nightmares, bakus are mortal enemies of night hags. Though usually calm and gentle creatures, bakus that encounter night hags dedicate themselves to hunting them down and ridding the world of their dark influence. A baku uses its ethereal jaunt spell-like ability to fight night hags as they inflict nightmares on their victims.

Gorgons are magical, foul-tempered creatures—while they might appear to be constructs at first glance, beneath their artifical-looking armor plates they are made of flesh and bone. Like aggressive bulls, they challenge any unfamiliar creature they encounter, often trampling their opponent’s corpse or shattering its stony remnants until the creature is unrecognizable. The females are just as dangerous as the males, and the two sexes appear identical. A typical gorgon stands 6 feet tall and 8 feet long. It weighs 4,000 pounds. Gorgons derive nutrients from the consumption of minerals, particularly the stone of their petrified victims, and any statues they create are likely to be gnawed thoroughly. They cannot digest metal or gems, so their dung (which resembles bitter-smelling gray powder) often contains small, raw crystals and nuggets of ore. Their aggression toward all other creatures means that there are few to no predators or other prey animals in their grazing grounds. Each herd is led by a dominant bull; solitary gorgons are usually adolescent bulls driven out of their herd by the lead bull. Their flesh is tough but beefy (once the armored hide is removed), and to those who acquire the taste, quite filling. Many stone giant tribes believe eating gorgon meat enhances their own natural armor. Powdered gorgon horn is worth 250gp as an alternate material component for magic items using bull’s strength, stoneskin, flesh to stone, statue, and similar magic.

Vahanas are steeds of legend, created by the gods. Deities gift vahanas to faithful servants to help them accomplish great deeds or as rewards for the same. Makaras, elephants with crocodile features, are one of the common types of vahana.  

Purple worms are giant scavengers that inhabit the deepest regions of the world, consuming any organic material that they encounter. They are notorious for swallowing their prey whole. It is not uncommon to hear of a group of adventurers vanishing down the ravenous maw of a purple worm, screaming as they disappear one by one. Although they seek to consume living creatures, purple worms also consume vast amounts of dirt and minerals as they burrow underground. The insides of a purple worm may contain a considerable number of gemstones and other items able to withstand the corrosive acid inside its gullet. In areas filled with valuable minerals, such as those near dwarven mines, the natural tunnels created by burrowing purple worms are often filled with vast amounts of unrefined ores. A purple worm usually claims a large underground cavern as its den, and while it returns here to rest and digest food, it spends the majority of its time on the prowl, burrowing through the endless dark or slithering along established tunnels in the constant drive to feed its immense hunger. Although not completely mindless, purple worms are rather stupid. They make popular guardians for those who have the magic to control them or a chamber in their lair large enough to hold one captive. Although the deep-dwelling purple worm is the most common of its ilk, variant immense worms of differing colors dwell in other remote wildernesses. A sleek, mottled blue-and-green variant of the giant worm dwells in deep underground lakes or tropical seas (this variant loses its burrow speed but increases its swim speed to 40 feet). A deep crimson variant of even greater size dwells in remote badlands and rocky deserts (this variant is never less than Colossal in size). Other species doubtless remain to be discovered in the far corners of the world.

Though rare, goezspalls have been observed living in extremely varied locations. From the frozen north to the depths of the deepest caverns, these bizarre, segmented creatures thrive in any environment, including the depths of the sea, boiling hot springs, and even, some claim, the void of space. Though not typically hostile, these omnivores hunt aggressively when hungry, especially after months or years in hibernation. A goezspall is 14 feet long and weighs 3,500 pounds, though some lore describes smaller and larger specimens.

A xanthos is a strange creature, part equine, part reptile. Bred as mounts by a long-dead race of alien plane-jumping explorers, xanthoi have a remarkable intelligence and the ability to teleport themselves and their riders over long distances. The race that created xanthoi has since died off or left for remote destinations, and the remaining xanthoi have lost many of their former powers, but they still have a driving need to explore worlds and planes. Xanthoi are omnivores but can survive on vegetable matter. A xanthos memorizes geography, flora, and fauna in case its lost masters ever return. In its travels, it may seek out powerful adventurers to form a mutual alliance of curiosity and friendship, and continue its explorations in their company. Each xanthos has a specif ic interest, and its desire to examine and catalog might be inconvenient or irrelevant to an adventurer’s desires. Xanthoi avoid using their abilities to interfere or help with wars, planar invasions, and natural disasters, as they believe doing so violates an ancient code limiting their actions to observation and memorization rather than influencing events. They are more likely to flee than to fight unless fleeing would leave their friends stranded or in danger. A xanthos is 13 feet tall at the shoulder and weighs 15,000 pounds. Its sloping, armored back is not particularly comfortable for humanoids to sit on, but is well suited for bearing a howdah that can hold up to four Medium or Small creatures. It may accept a howdah, but doesn’t tolerate being treated as a beast of burden.

Known on some worlds as dholes, bholes are among the largest of living creatures, wormlike leviathans of such size that few can claim to have seen one wholly from head to tail, and those who do suffer from madness or other aff lictions that cause others to doubt these tales. The coloration of these creature ranges widely, from dark blues and purples to pale grays, yellows, or white. A bhole’s cavernous mouth consists of long, bony jaws that extend and unfold from the creature’s head when it feeds. Bholes are incredibly long-lived— those that exist in remote worlds or in other dimensions have done so for countless eons. The bholes themselves seem to have no interest in their history, perhaps as a result of their limited intellect, but they can live forever, barring death by violence. Regions inhabited by bholes are always wastelands. Bholes seem able to eat and digest anything and everything, and in time can reduce a huge area to just a honeycombed network of immense tunnels. These regions swiftly collapse in on themselves, leaving rubble-filled pits of terrifying size.

Thunder behemoths walk the land as little more than roving appetites, driven by an all-consuming hunger to devour every animal, plant, and even building in sight. They indiscriminately gorge their five seemingly bottomless stomachs on forests and jungles, collapse mine and mountain alike in search of ore, and raze settlements and strongholds for the cowering morsels within. Thunder behemoths are sent by the gods to destroy wicked cities, raze great temples or monuments that offend divine eyes, and otherwise act as instruments of divine wrath on the surface of a world or just below it. The days before a thunder behemoth arrives are fraught with minor but unnerving earthquakes, mass exoduses of burrowing animals to the surface, and an increase in fallen trees and sinkholes.