Travelling the shifting sands at night was always a dangerous task. Freshly recruited into the Ouzquin Dremorix army, young Fallava and Moruz followed the grizzled veteran before them.  They were hunting a band of Latrani orcs, and the trail was fresh. The grey-haired Avaki raised two fingers in a sign of silence as the trio neared the top of the rise, and slowly, the man breached the top of the dune. "Aaahh," Avaki exhaled mournfully as he slung his Ouzala over his shoulders. Down the other side of the dune lay an oasis, and as Fallava and Moruz came forth they saw the reason for Avacti's sigh. The corpses of a dozen Ouzquin Dremorix lay in pieces across the bank of the water. Blood stained the sand. Without looking back to the young man and woman, Avaki spoke softly, "Vauraki has fed well this night."
A chill ran up Moruz's spine. He could have sworn he heard a wilting howl inside his head.

Feet forever on the path; smile forever on it's lips. It walks roads beaten and forgotten alike through day and night. With it's troupe of mindless puppets, it is accosted not by beast nor fiend nor monster. For they know that Terror walks past this night.

Death travels with the Gandacai.

Watcher comes now. It comes to set me free

Of its curse of dark and emptiness and endless misery.

Herein lies the story of Aurali; the ghoul of Axtrami. The Vultuin Xactaki.

Deep within the shifting sands, natives whisper of creatures trapped within ancient tombs, their insane wails audible through feet of solid stone seals.
Read, now, as I delve through the mystery and bring forth the facts about the Tah’k Mumz’kar; the Bandage Beast; The Mummy.

Storm clouds! The folk of the caravan were overjoyed! They had been moving through the hostile desert for weeks, and this was the first they had seen of any sign of precipitation. The people actually cheered when the first drops of rain hit the desert sand. But soon the cheering turned to cries of confusion as the sand beneath their feet began to move…

For many years, the Periccus vine had been considered little more than a pest; and a dangerous one at that. However, modern advances in herbalism and alchemy have proven that this weed does have some use, after all.

Faith is a powerful thing.
Belief in ones self can help you push yourself beyond the limits imagined.
Belief in others can raise spirits and make them work with greater fervor.
Belief in a religion can make people perform actions which would otherwise be unacceptable.

Once however, long ago in times forgotten, someone believed so deeply; so strongly, that in an eternity of darkness, a glass eye opened.

“You know that saying that man made god? No, of course you don’t. But we didn’t make god. We made the Devil, and god is just a word the frightened cling to, to protect them from their own creation. And you? You are my creation. You are my devil.

Forget the rickety, fragile skeletons. Remove all thoughts of the limping, weak zombies. Shrug off thoughts of blood-dependant vampires. Whereas the former are reflections of necromatic magic, the Mogrolyth is a creation derived from the pure essence of unholy power - namely pain.

The Golem moss is an amazing lifeform, and is able to survive in nearly any environment. Its evolutionary rate is far higher than any other creature on the planet, enabling them to adapt.

Found mainly in dense forests, the Charyn slug is a most irritating creature to the average adventurer. Not because it is dangerous in any way, but that it tends to disturb their sleep.

These mites fly silently and are small enough to be nearly invisible to the naked eye. If it was not for light, no one would know they were there. These creatures absorb and re-emmit light, turning dim to bright, and bright to blinding.