An addition for the Whimsical Flora Codex (based on my Crunalan society in my Dragon Empire setting)
All you need to stop a brain is a bullet.
"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"
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 food of the Gods: specifically a bitter sappy God.
"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
A variety of bizarre but otherwise harmless insects.
Rabbit-leonine like grass dwellers, for flavour
When you want a horse, but not any horse will do. You don't want a Lord's horse, nor one fit for a King. You want a horse bred for a God.
Be careful of unearthing legends, however.
“So, you want to buy a horse?” the grizzled Catfolk horse-master said.
“Yes. I'd like to buy a battlesteed and I'll pay whatever you ask,” the human replied.
“No. We never sell the Little Brothers of the Clan. Find a regular horse instead.”
“But my Lord wants a battlesteed and ...”
It's so cute!
Wait, why is it glowing?
Mapmaker's bane, a few of these can ruin a decade of cartography!
Mind the nettles son, it's wet out.
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.
Displaced natives, the alien Kebah-Di'i have taken to the new ways of their adoptive society with surprising gusto.
Ghostchasers are small nocturnal birds that have the ability to see what normal humans and most other animals cannot.
The see the land dragons of Tevesage is to see the sharks of the land.
"And make sure the fruit stays dry."
- The Best Cook of Royal Navy, a book never read
The Zenahin Flower, Zenahin Bloom, Star Eye, Mood Flower, Little Judge, it has many names.
Jemas Lorne, the most celebrated poet of the age, was found dead, clutching a fragment of verse torn from his journal. The tantalizing fragment spoke of wealth:
Golden sands, empty and cold,
Treasure's crypt, forgotten gold.
Under stone, ancestor's doom,
Noble's prize, troubadour's tomb.
Rumours claim that the poet's father, an eccentric nobleman, had hidden much of his wealth before his death. Perhaps the missing journal has more clues?