An incarnation of Laserbeak, and condor/cyborgs for the Cosmic Era
Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards... -- Gildor, via J R R Tolkien
The first sign of the Army of the Lost are the legs. Blown off legs, hopping along wearing their military boots. And not long afterwards, the rest of the Army arrives, and the horizon from left to right is filled with the decomposing bodies, many of which carry weapons. Unless you can outrun them or fortify your position, you will soon be joining this army of the Undead.
The ochre sands stretch for miles around. Something kicks up the dust. It's a yak. A desert-yak. It ambles slowly, nuzzling the ground for the low-growing shrubs. The ranger freezes. "Stay very still," he warns. "Don't move at all."
"What is it?" you ask, breathlessly.
"It's the most dangerous creature in the whole Ocadian desert. And it's about to eat that yak..."