Before Final Fantasy turned Bahamut into a dragon, it was a fish
Vastids - man-maimers who live in contaminated water areas and Balrin Algae.
In the dark one morning, the Bloated Black Beast slowly rose to the water's surface. Whence it crested, great gouts of flame erupted from its Misshapen Form and were hurled hundreds of feet in all directions. It dove again, and appeared as nothing more than an Inky Shadow of Malice. With no purpose, It swam on; occasionally cresting and flaming, but still without purpose.
This sea monster seeks to devour more than just mere flesh..
"Greetings, Mortal," Said the bubbly, hissing voice in his head… What the hell was that, he thought. "Not hell, the Ocean. Walk into the surf, my child. I will protect you."
She rose from the waters and cast her eyes across us. I dropped my spear, and the man who was moments before intent on my death did the same, letting his sword and shield fall to the sand at our feet. Let it not be said that the gods do not care for the deeds of men, nay they do care. And in our bloody case, they dissapproved.
Canst thou draw out leviathan with an hook?
Canst thou fill his skin with barbed irons?
or his head with fish spears?
Have a family that is ever at odds with each other? Beware lest the Slurran comes for you..
The Flowing Death is one of the most feared monsters in all of Vallermoore’s rivers and ocean, not because of the numbers of people it has killed directly, but because of the semi-starvation it’s visits bring, and because it cannot be seen until it attacks it’s prey.
These magical boots empower the wearer with several abilities at once. Wondrous leaping, water-walking, and even flying! Yet the boots possess an insidious curse upon them as well. A deep and almost unfathomable (by others) feeling of listlessness, boredom, and even apathy affects the boots' wearer at all times whenever they are donned. Magic will not dispel the effects.
And so while the wearer of the boots can perform great feats of action during combat or at other opportune times and key moments, they'll never really want to do so, complaining "Meh, what's the point of it all anyway?" or "I would fly up and save us all guys, but sigh, maybe uhm, soonish, mkay? Bit bored by this whole burning tower at the moment."
Naturally the boots wearer's fellow PCs will grow quickly frustrated with this arrangement. There have been numerous occasions when one angry PC literally tears off the boots from his companion's feet in anger, and dons them in turn, only to immediately suffer from the same effects.
The solution lies in constantly "motivating" the boots' wearer with successful rolls, involving threats, flattery, fiery speeches, or even bribery.