In the oldest and proudest of the dwarven kingdoms ruled the greatest king that race had ever known. But as age crept upon the old king, he began to obsess about what would happen to his kingdom after his death, a bone-deep fear of the black gates. He started to take long walks through the catacombs of his ancestors, alone in the silent hall of urns where their ashes lay in state. On one of these trips, the kind heard a whisper, asking him what he would do to stave off death. The king's old bones cried out that he would do anything to keep out of Death's cold grasp. And the voice told the old king a ritual to perform. In a wash of blood the old king sacrificed his entire court, with each death feeling the strength that had fled his bones return. In his hunger for this new strength, none of his people were spared. The remaining dwarven nations allied and sealed away his halls. But he still waits, as do the riches of his ancient kingdom: In the Halls of the Mountain King. Instinct: Gain strength through death.

• Call the spirits of the dead to his side.
• Send the weak to their knees.
• Take the strength of the dying.
• Use one of the ancient treasures of his kingdom.
• Destroy something they treasure.

The Hoplite Snail is a giant carnivorous mollusk, about the size of a large horse. While slow moving, it has developed a horrifying method of hunting prey. When some unlucky creature passes by, the Hoplite Snail fires a poison filled harpoon (believed to be a modified radular tooth) into the prey. Once the target is paralyzed, the snail draws it in close, engulfing its victim in a mouth that bears more resemblance to an distended elephant's trunk than anything else. The snail may have up to five mouths, and can fire volleys of harpoons out of each one, in any direction. While the snail's flesh is leathery and tough, and it can quickly bury itself in loose soil or mud, the Hoplite Snail's real protection is its shell, which cannot be broken save through magic or alchemy. Instinct: To hunt from ambush

• Fire a toxic harpoon into prey
• Burrow into the mud
• Engulf paralyzed victim
• Hide within impenetrable shell

Built on an iron skeleton, covered in horse's hide, filled with herb-stuffed organs wired together with veins of lead, and crowned with a human head and brain, this monstrosity was brought to life with a bolt of lightning, and animated by an invisible plasmic entity from the void beyond the stars. Its lead veins now pulse with gold and yellow light, and the plasmid can copy any magical effect whose energy it has the opportunity to digest. Instinct: Thirst for elemental power

• Tear off an enemy's appendage, or rip a weak or injured enemy in half
• Absorb and memorize any spell cast upon it
• Draw power from elemental forces
• Call down lightnight from heaven

The Velour Wyrm is an enormous, centipede-like carnivore that attacks by using a pair of glands on either side of its head to spray jets of thick, sticky snot at targets up to 50 feet away, then tearing them apart at leisure. It has poor eyesight, but long antennae that detect minute vibrations and while it does not have particularly good aim, it launches the slime-ropes in patterns that are hard to avoid. It may subdue dangerous prey by dousing them again at short range before feeding. While dangerous, the Velour Wyrm is hunted by the brave for its skin, which is soft and waterproof, and its mucus glands, which can be used to make powerful alchemical adhesives. Instinct: To feed

• Spray thick ropes of immobilizing slime
• Skitter across the ceiling

"The being once known as Teth-Adam was chosen by a cabal of mighty wizards thousands of years ago to be the champion of ancient gods. But the champion abused the Word of Power, declared himself a god in his own right, and killed the wizards who bestowed the Word. He conquered the kingdom he was sworn to defend and crushed any who dared to oppose him. And he saw that it was good. Until his beloved wife and queen was assassinated and cursed. The so-called god could not overcome death. He spent many lifetimes seeking a way to resurrect her, but his hope turned to despair, and then to madness. No one knows what happened to the Word-bearer after he deserted his people. Some say he left this world to seek an answer among other planes of reality. Some say a wise man tricked and imprisoned him. The nomad tribes of the Vast Desert whisper that he broods within the ruins of Kahndaq, lost beneath the sands. In each version of the legend, the warning remains the same: fear the return of Black Adam." Instinct: to dominate - even death itself.

• Contemptuously crush resistance
• Use lightning to force them close.
• Divide and conquer.
• Speak the Word.

The spiderwolves lurk in the lonely desert, haunting the tiny, insular, peculiar communities that cling to existence at the periphery of the civilized lands. They dwell in the shadowed valleys, and partake of the most discommodious attributes of the lupine and arachnid races - eight scrabbling, setaceous legs matched with eight glaring, blood-mad citrine eyes. Their peculiarly extensible chelicerae-jaws are fulminant with noxious and novel toxins. The daemonical vocalizations and ululations that ring from the beasts' non-Euclidean throats, shrill and insensible, speak to their doomed prey: and the sentiment intrinsic to that baleful, monstrous cantata is understood thus - "Good night, listener; good night." Instinct: to feast on the unwary

• Appear without warning
• Inject a paralyzing poison

The plague has a face, and it's a petty, hungry, leper one. They live underneath, in our homes' foundations, and they feed on what we waste. Few could stand by them without feeling nauseous and sick. Them, whose curse is been long forgotten, servants of Pestilence. Instinct: to infect.

• Spread the disease
• Ambush from the sludge
• Call on the gnawing swarm

yada yada Instinct: to rule

• Command his army to do his will
• summon his undead army to fight

These undead warriors are the fallen army of Radam Otana who spent the last several decades buried under soot and rock. When the volcano ended their lives, their souls lingered on awaiting Otana's spirit to rise again. Once he has risen these undead will follow his every command with undying loyalty. Instinct: to kill anyone its master commands

• Charge fearlessly into battle
• there are hundreds of them and they will not flee from a fight
• screeches out into the sky to summon additional undead fighters

Mutated by some strange arcane force, the giant baloth is like a freight train with teeth, claws, and a 10ft. wide plated crest growing from its skull. A normal baloth is very dangerous, but can be avoided if left alone and its territory is not disturbed. The giant baloth is much more aggressive and a smarter hunter. You don't want on this one's bad side. Instinct: to protect its territory

• Charge at an enemy