“ Arkths or Ravagers: These are large landbound crablike creatures about the size of Grizzly Bears. They live partially in the astreal plane. Their food is magic. They can sense it at huge distances. Since spells and such are hard to eat (being in motion) and magical places are the equivalent of a sea of krill to them, they are looking for magic stashed in concrete places. Their primary food source is magic items, alchemical potions, and enchantments. They do a pretty good job of mangling/ eating the physical aspect of said items in the process of chowing down. These things will be the bane of dungeons everywhere, as they will slowly eat away much of the treasure (and the magical traps... so it can be advantagous to follow these things). Note: They will attack people with highly magical natures (i.e. high magic powers). They will probably kill the person in the process of sucking out the power.”
“ A wild species, vinus homophagus, more akin to sea-grape rather than the terrestrial variety, is not a monster despite its fanciful name. The grapes, a deep purple color when in bloom, and oozing dewdrops of perspiration, like the most prized and delectable of drinking wine grapes, do however deserve their moniker. Wine made from this fruit, is deadly to most humanoids, as is the raw berry if plucked and eaten from the vine. It is the unnatural chemical concoction found within the fruit's tart skin, which gives the man-eating grape its name. The chemical stew found inside each berry, functions as a necrotic agent, the same as found in some species of venomous snakes.
The grapes literally eat their victims from the inside out, via cell death, melting and destroying the organs in quick succession.
The tribes of Pra-Oohk Crater, of the jungles of Ghlush are known to sell the fermented 'wine' of this grape to merchants of distant lands. Sadly, the taste of the concoction is divine when first quaffed, and even worse, the man-eating grape wine will never detect as poisonous via mundane means, its horrid natures somehow masking all attempts. Luckily the man-eating grapes are extremely rare, and endemic to humid jungles.”
“ The village sits on the edge of the deep fjord, often engulfed in mist or rain. Its people are fishermen, who work even through the sea-ravaging winter. And they pray to the gods of the deep.
At the beginning of every winter they hold a summoning ceremony. Three boats are taken out into the fjord, a hornsman on each. The mournful horns are blown in the language of the whales, the gods of the deep. The whales sometimes appear in answer to these calls, and it is taken as a good omen when they do.
To a party of PCs wandering the misty hills and valleys nearby however, the doleful whalesong of the horns can be disturbing and misinterpreted...”
