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.
The party has found the source of the strange creatures roaming the countryside. The rift in this reality glows with a silver hue, rippling with the wind but never moving. They step through and are immediately assaulted with the scent of rotting meat, some have to muster all their strength not to vomit. Strange cries similar to the beasts the party had faced before can be heard in the distance. Looking around, they see they are in a forest of grey and red rather than the normal brown and green. The trees are sticky to the touch and writhe, perhaps to get away or perhaps as a warning.
The deeper the party goes, the more the forest seems to slither and move underfoot. The cries get closer and more numerous. Creatures lurk in the shadows, all the same color of their surroundings. Whatever the party came in here for, they had better do it fast.
The forest of flesh is waking up, and it is so very hungry.