All you need to stop a brain is a bullet.
Log: Encounter 45, London Arcoplex
Classification: Keter, magnitude 3
Type: Extradimensional Manifestation
"Alright where is the beast so that I can size it up?"
"That's the thing...you see that mountain range over there?"
"Yeah, the twin spires, what of it?"
"Well that's the beast"
This frightening creature has some rather cruel methods to torture its prey
Before Final Fantasy turned Bahamut into a dragon, it was a fish
A collection of relatively harmless Chinese Mythical Lifeforms
Two creatures, forever cycling between the phases of the 5 elements, unable to rejoin.
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.
They have no souls, but they live. They are formless, but they walked. They are unseen, but they reveals. They walk the dark plains, but they show the lights. And they were given a chance to choose side. And yet, they chose righteous. And that's the Farons. Creature that walks the void realm.
Kalraka Dzeik is a sentient lightning storm with a following of cultists. It has much in common with a natural disaster or a plague; it starts at a single point but spreads like wildfire if given the chance. It is capable of terrible destruction, and will take heroic effort to stop, if it can be stopped at all.
Ghorion was once one of the Three Troll Kings of the Cloudsteeth Mountains. Undeath has only made him crueler, and much, much more powerful.
Watcher comes now. It comes to set me free
Of its curse of dark and emptiness and endless misery.
...And 'lo, the days of Bennu drew to a close, and he built himself a pyre from which to be reborn in cleansing fire. But trickery snared his form, blackening radiant feathers to twilight...
He stood before me, a freankenstien of a man beast that towered twenty feet tall or more. Its rigor colored flesh stunk of eons of decay both sickly sweet and of putrescence beyond what the mortal mind could fathom. I tried to gag it from my throat but my stomach refused to relieve its contents and for that made me more uneasy.
Former Cult Leader who outlived his usefulness
"Bah, dere be no such thing as no 'peripheral beast'. How can their exist a creature you canno' even look at?"
Torax Shieldbreaker, Dwarven explorer
Somewhere in the endless deserts of Iuhai, Daazan the Iron Gate and Utheleii the lovelorn Earth Elemental wait for time to end.
The most fearsome creatures ever to be encountered by an adventuring party, and what to do when you do.
-Magnus Eriksson, 2nd Ranger, Queens Shadows.
Meles, the eyes in midnight bands
the plagues would see him dead
yet Meles, his brood unchained
they ate the plagues instead
Nine times out of Ten, it's the undead that do the running.
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.