Tiny, side-scuttling spiders.
A reclusive race, the Ragori live deep in the heart of the Purvis Swamp.
Some people think that the VÃƒÂ©nat are harmless, helpless, charming creatures. Despite their small size and gauzy wings, they are anything but. You underestimate them at your peril.
Beware this wizardly cadaver! His spells might not kill you, but you will wish they had…
"Oh, there goes another make-believe
Adapted to the coldest of inhabitable worlds, the stocky Snowborn are the Starkin’s frozen cousins, set to defend them from threats from outside, using their terrible world itself as a weapon.
A higly misunderstood flora.
Therianthropes? Lycanthropes? Animorphs? Homo-Zoological-Hybrid-Sapiens? Manimals? Take your pick.
The hungry great white shark closed in on the seal, wanting it’s supper, but the seal dived out of reach of the snapping jaws and then showed it’s true nature, as a hunter and killer of sharks.
Fire is the purifier, let it cleanse the taint from the flesh of the mutant
Prelate Deacon Delhomme
A completely average race, similar to humans, but with a few small differences.
Famed for the dazzling beauty of their shimmering scales, the Yogran are fish that every nobleman or powerful merchant wants to stock his pond with.
"And make sure the fruit stays dry."
- The Best Cook of Royal Navy, a book never read
The muggers cornered the little goblin against the wall, when with a hissing noise he suddenly grew to double his size. Muscles bulged out from his body and they lokked at each other, then turned and ran. The Sproggan watched them go and grinned at the thought of how well he had fooled them, and when they were gone he deflated back to his normal size and went on his way.
A plague in improverished locations, the Rot Beetle is the bane of those who are not careful about where or what they eat.
Also known as Virgin’s Rose, the Secret Flower, and the Scarlet Lady
The Zenahin Flower, Zenahin Bloom, Star Eye, Mood Flower, Little Judge, it has many names.
A flower that blooms in honor of the sun itself.
The thief looked around to make sure noone was near and then grabbed a golden jewel-studded chalice. At once two bronze effigies sat up on the tombs they lay on, their ruby-red eyes snapped upon and they spoke in a metalic voice which echoed through the nave. "Put that back and leave this holy place, or face death for your act of sacriliege."
"...I’ll be damned if I go within a league of the Girders. Death is there on eight damn legs clicking and chugging away." Ex-salvager Tim McClanny
A PC Conjurer or summoner, basically any mage whose sole purpose in life is summoning creatures to aid in battles and various situations, is cursed with a hex, and needs to find a way to undo the curse...before he goes mad, or his fellow PCs throw him out of the party, or worse.
Everything he/she summons, never goes away. So you'll have to figure out what the heck to do with that dire bear or fire elemental once it's done fighting the orcs for you. Eventually a caravan of bizarre creatures either annoyingly ends up following the summoner around, or they go off to cause mayhem elsewhere. Bad news for the poor spell-caster regardless.