The Crickets of Ziust resemble mundane crickets in almost every fashion. They are a mottled brown to black color, have modest leaping ability, and are nocturnal by nature. The can be differentiated from common crickets by close examination. The abdomen of a Ziustian cricket bears a mark that is commonly associated with Mathom, the god of delays.
The Crickets of Ziust are named after the fabled city of Ziust. This city was a marvel of efficiency and engineering during the age of K'ton. Of this paragon of industry, only it's name and the crickets remain. The city, by means unknown, deeply offended the God of Delays. Perhaps it was their tireless efficiency? No task was left for another day, nothing put of that could be done then. Such was the way things were in Ziust.
Then one night, the crickets came, singing their songs in the dark. A few K'tonians put off their tasks, for a little while. But they did get back to them. Then there were more crickets, nibbling at bushes and roots, all the while filling the darkness with their insectile orchestra. A few long breaks soon grew, like cracks in a stone. Procrastination blossomed, some folk preferred to listen to the insects, some took up drinking. The end effect was the same, Ziust's vaunted time-table started falling behind. Production fell, efficiency wavered, and things that should have been done weren't.
The fate of Ziust isn't precisely known. Like the rest of the K'tonian culture, it ceased to be. some scholars speculate that there was a great war, and due to the snags and delays in their infrastructure, Ziust and its allies were destroyed. So much time has passed since that fall that the location of Ziust's ruins are not even known. Some modern philosophers consider Ziust to be a metaphor or a legend and not a place that ever actually existed.
The biggest flaw in their argument is that the crickets of Ziust do indeed exist.
From a biological stand-point, these crickets are mundane in almost every fashion. They have no special immunities, no magical resistances, or any other seemingly supernatural trait. They congregate in dark moist places, forage at night, and rub their legs together to make what is called cricketsong. This is the only place where they differ from normal crickets, as the cricketson has a magical aspect to it. (More on this later).
Crickets of Ziust are asexual in nature, neither laying eggs nor having live young. Close examination reveals that the crickets are entirely artificial in origin, and bear a divine magical aura. Examinations of said crickets are excedingly difficult. Not in terms of the exam itself, but in that the process of examination will be repeatedly put off, delayed, and otherwise interrupted. Like all things that touch upon Mathom, the god of delays leaves his mark behind.
No different on an acoustic level, the Ziustian cricketsong channels the divine essence of Mathom. This constant background emission of Mathomeric energy causes all sorts of strange and very easily overlooked effects. Being a divinity of causality, these effects are very rarely ever suspected of being artificial or engineered, rather just annoying tricks of timing and changes of luck.
A magus, making notes for a spell overlooks a vital spell component because he spilled his remaining ink and couldn't finish his task at hand, let alone composing his acquisition list for spell components. When the time came for the spell, the magus in question had to stop, and backtrack and figure out which component was missing, and instead of casting the spell at the best time, instead has to opt for a less effective time a few weeks later.
The Prince of the Kingdom has several tasks to attend, including delivering a seemingly unimportant message. Along the way, he takes some liesure time in a family garden, has a roll in the grass with a pretty servant girl, and forgets to deliver one of his messages. The spymaster, waiting for word from the queen never recieves his cipher, usually delivered by the unknowing prince.
The PCs seek new gear in a productive town, only to discover that the craftsman/artisan they require isnt available at that time. Seems that he forgot about something else and is a few leagues travel away and should be back in a few days, if all goes well. (Works great for slightly absent minded folk such as oracles, scholars, magi, and the like)
The Citadel remains silent for 5 days, except for the singing of crickets in the background.