Someone has to keep replacing, repairing and resetting those traps that adventurers disarm or set off! Goblin Mechanics love traps, since Goblins aren't all that tough physically. When they can, they will lure larger opponents onto a trap and set it off. Sometimes they hire out as mercenaries to maintain someone else's traps. Instinct: Defend their territory.

• Repair a trap
• Trigger a trap at a distance
• Attract other monsters

Small, orange-skinned goblins from some far-off land, Umpas have made their lair in the dark backrooms and hidden spaces of the Factory. Psychic predators who feed off shame and regret, they find the hunting easy here -- after all, the Candy Man is always inviting fresh souls to take his test. Umpas are roughly the size of halflings, with rough orange skin and a shock of unkempt green hair. A race of androgenes, they exhibit no sexual dimorphism -- or any secondary sexual characteristics anyone has ever seen. Scholars currently believe they reproduce by exuding a tumorous bud, around which they spin a sticky web woven from candy and the pulped bodies of their victims. Infant Umpas consume flesh, slowly graduating to emotion as thier minds (and sadism) develop. The creatures hunt carefully, first studying their prey for any weaknesses they can exploit. When ready, they use this knowledge to weave a beguiling song: a song devised to first draw these character flaws to the surface, then lure their victim into an appropriate trap selected from the Factory's nigh-infinite inventory. As the victim is castigated by the trap, the Umpas gather close, their song turning fevered and cruel, and consume the emotions generated. If they are directly threatened, Umpas will fight as a pack, defending one another with their claws or the rows of pointed teeth in their overly-large mouths. Instinct: to lay bare the follies of their prey

• Beguile through song
• Lure prey into ironic traps
• their song can bring your flaws to light

Imagine an enormous mound of sharks with a single motive force, a single malign intelligence directing the whole thing. Now imagine it's hungry, and you look tasty. Instinct: To devour.

• Swallow them whole.
• Spawn lesser shark-spirits

Weird as strange, weird as supernatural, weird as destiny. Is it a sentinel set here by sorcery, or sea-spawn seeking supper? We only know this worm of water waits unseen within pools, lurking until it can lash out, entwine around a victim, and drag them down to their destiny, a watery death. And how does one fight it? Do the waves fear swords? Can hammers crush currents? You can beat it back for a time, but it'll rise again from its pool as if unharmed; sages say only sorcery or spiritual powers suffice to slay it. Supernatural serpent, indeed. Instinct: To drown

• Drag others into its pool and drown them
• Meld unseen with water
• Grapple victims in coils
• Regenerate mundane damage

The aptly-named King is the only one of it's kind, and thank the gods for that. Shaped like a man, but much bigger, he's like a dragon, covered in scales, with claws, fangs, horns, the works. His wings are too small to fly, so he wears them like a cloak. Three faces -not three heads, mind you, just three faces- each one with a different magical roar; the one on the left summons Vermin and commands other monsters. The one on the right lets him fly. How? By scaring gravity away, that's how. And the one in the center freaks you out so bad you mostly just stand there. Did I mention he can throw fire around like a toy? Instinct: To destroy anyone who sees him

• Wield formidable magics
• Urthadar's Paralyzing Aspect
• Aliaga's Beastial Command

A strange creature, like a white monkey with the wings, tail, and talons of a blue parrot. They're found in libraries and laboratories and anywhere magic is researched. Their wings are too small and weak for true flight, but they're able to leap and climb up walls and across ceilings with great agility. They bear the face of a beautiful woman, and a voice to match. Often they repeat words or phrases they've heard before, and because they're drawn to magic many of them have picked up an incantation or two. However, they don't seem to understand the meaning of the words, just repeating sounds, although some say they're more likely to say incantations when they're angry or afraid. The subject is hotly contested among mages given to such debates, although a creature that can accidentally use magic isn't exactly safe to run tests on... Instinct: To babble nonsense

• Mimic voices
• Repeat a spell it's heard

Damn Kites. Just last week a band of the rogues took half a dozen bushels of my corn. They swoop in like locusts and take anything they can. Instinct: to loot and steal

• Prey on the weak or unsuspecting
• Take to the skies

Instinct: to murder children

• Demand sacrifice
• Fool into disbelief.

Bethany is the most vicious of the Spearwives and the one sent most often on raids. She survived when the duke's men burnt her village and wants to burn his city in return. Instinct: To unseat the duke

• Sing the trolls a song of violence

These are the best fed common folk in Danbury, the duke sees to that. Most of the taxes that do not go right into the duke's own coffers go into the pockets of the city guard. Because of that they are very loyal. Instinct: To serve the duke

• Sound the alarm