"Good morning," the Thing in the Well calls, "And how are we doing this morning Mrs. Westmen?" -- "Just wonderfully. How have you been keeping, Thing?" -- "Fine, fine. A little peckish, a bit in the mood for, you know, a nibble, a bite to eat. But don't worry yourself, perfectly fine." -- "It's quite alright Thing, I was just thinking I should bring by some lunch. How does a ham sound?" -- "You are too kind Mrs. Westmen, just too kind..." -- The Thing in the Well has lived in the village for longer than anyone can remember. It is traditional to fix regular meals for the Thing, and to present it with a sheep or pig on special occasions. Years ago a boy went down the well on a dare. He never returned. The subject has not been broached in the presence of the Thing. Instinct: To devour

• Politely collect tribute
• Leverage townspeople through secrets
• Purify water
• Hide in darkened waters

"The Old Ones, they knew much. Not the alchemy of man nor the sorcery of warlocks and the like. No, this is the magic of gears and pulleys, the sorcery of science. Watch your every step in the tower: be wary or you may call to life the ancient defense systems. You'll know the Defenders have awoken long before you face them, that's for sure; they're louder than a stomping giant and their hulls scrape the stone walls. You'll hear them coming, I'm sure you can avoid them, go on in the tower. Me? I... I'll stay out here. Got to have a lookout post, right?"

Instinct: Destroy all Intruders! *click* Defend the domain!

• Display immense and uncaring strength
• Soldier on, ignoring all damage until the last
• Reveal a hidden function from the depths of its gearworks

The mating call of the otyugh is a horrible, blaring cry that sounds like a cross between an elephant dying and an over-eager vulture. The otyugh spends much of its time partly submerged in filthy water and prefers eating garbage over any other food. As a result, it often grows fat and strong on the offal of orcs, goblins and other cave-dwelling sub-humans. Get too close, however, and you’ll have one of its barbed tentacles dragging you into that soggy, razor-toothed maw. If you get away with your life, best get to a doctor, or your victory may be short lived. Instinct: To befoul

• Infect someone with filth fever
• Fling someone or something

Each individual shadow is actually a swarm of tiny, dust-sized demons. No one is quite sure where they come from, or how to kill them, but it is known that children of every species on every plane of existence know to fear the darkness . . . Instinct: To spread

• Devour flesh
• Impersonate voices
• Absorb knowledge from those it kills

Scarabaeus pyractomena! What a delightful creature—see how its carapace glitters in the light of our torches? Not too close now, they’re temperamental, you see. The fire in their belly isn’t just metaphorical, no. Watch as I goad the beast. Aha! A spout of flame! Unexpected, isn’t it? One of these creatures alone, if it comes up from below, can be a hellish nuisance to a farmstead or village. A whole swarm? There’s a reason they call it a conflagration of fire beetles. Instinct: To enflame

• Undermine the ground
• Burst from the earth
• Spray forth flames

An ogre from the far east. He serves as the third general of the Gilded Chain mercenaries. His intellect is matched only by his cruelty. Instinct: Weave dark sorcery

• Lead the third warband of the Gilded Chain
• Control the weather
• Face of Your Father

A giant who was enslaved by the sorcerer Raigen. No one knows how he bound the beast, but his hatred for mankind has only grown since his captivity. Instinct: Overturn the puny works of mortals

• Serve the sorcerer Raigen

Great beasts of the savannah, trained for combat. Instinct: Crush and destroy

• Charge into battle

The chimera is what happens when nature makes a mistake it refuses to correct. Built like a bear but low and aggressive, dark fur over dense muscle that simply endures. The head is pure mountain lion — wide and flat with amber eyes that carry no hesitation, flanked by two heavy curved goat horns that sweep back like something carved from rock. The claws are enormous, each capable of splitting stone. Across its back sits a thick tortoise shell, plated and ancient, dark green-grey like lichen covered stone — attacking from above or behind is an answer that gets people killed. The scorpion tail rises from beneath the shell's rear edge, segmented and heavy, curling upward with the stinger positioned like a second head waiting for its turn. There is no good side to stand on. Instinct: Protect territory

• Attack with tail

War alchemists from the Gold Coast. Their wisdom is matched only by their cruelty. Instinct: Release chaos on the battlefield

• Melt hinges, locks, or gate reinforcements
• Smoke bombs
• Ignite something valuable