Outside the colony, scouting (3-5) and hunting (5-10) bands pick their way through the forest or plains. They work in a seasonal pattern, clearing a swath of land of all other animals and then leaving it for the rest of the year to repopulate. Woe to the party of adventurers caught unaware when a wave of clicking mandibles and rock-hard chitin pours into their camp because these waist-height ants can shred cloth and leather and crush metal in their jaws. More than once, a soldier has fended off an attack but later lost a limb to rot because he could not extract himself from his crushed gauntlet or boot. Instinct: Scour the Forest

• Hunt. Kill. Repeat.
• Group Mind - nearby ants act as if one entity

Endlessly skittering through the tunnels of the behemoth ant colony, drones are the most numerous caste. They are not actively hostile but if it becomes clear that intruders are disturbing or endangering the colony they will team up to remove the intruders. Quite possibly in several mangled pieces. Instinct: Remove unwanted things from the hive

• All chitin and mandibles and OCD
• Panic Pheromones

The First Mage, Lukan, learned the secrets of arcane energy not from books -- for who would have written them? His desperation for power called forth trange and terrible messengers whose very presence tore and strained and frayed reality. Lukan gleaned that these incarnations of the Beyond had just one goal -- to unify the Starry Beyond's arcane maelstrom with our world. In a terrible fight, he sought to banish them, and teach men to learn how to harness the Starry Beyond by discipline alone. But these creatures of terrible, bright, starlight still remain to tempt, scourge, burn, and transform the unwary - and your old friend was, it seem, more than ready to be tempted. Instinct: To bring the Starry Beyond into this world.

• Scour with the sizzling energies of the Starry Beyond
• Shimmering multicolored tendrils of energy speed out from its hovering mass and...
• Guide or force others to unleash the Starry Beyond.
• Take a humanoid form
• Teach maddening secrets.
• Strain the fabric of reality.

Let me tell you the tale of Joaquin -- a young man as cocksure as you are now. He came too near to the Wizard's Well, besting its guardian sprite, and dared to read the incantations inscribed on its edges. I caught up with him as he mouthed the last words, his eyes full of defiance and joy. Then, his bones lengthened, his eyes multiplied, and a great mound of fleshy mouths grew from his belly -- few men can master the Starry Beyond, said a wizard I later asked about it. Horrified, I charged, and pushed him into the well. I know not what happened to him after that, but I still have nightmares. Instinct: To twist and break what remains natural and beautiful

• Impale those who resist
• Tear those who offend it
• Rip the hapless apart
• Leap upon the unaware.

The wumpus likes to hide in close environments, like dungeon mazes or dense forests. It's very introverted, and really it just wants to be left alone. Unfortunately for those who happen upon the wumpus, it has learned that the fastest way to be alone again is to eat whoever found it, which it does with shocking efficiency and even glee. It has also developed a stench that is at once distinctive and nauseating. Sadly, the hunting a wumpus is considered a right of passage in some cultures. Instinct: to be left alone.

• Swallow whole.
• Hide abruptly.
• Nauseate with a stinky cloud.

The Grey Prison is full of caretakers, large crab-like clockwork constructs with large claws. When it finds a person (living or in their afterlife) in the Prison that is not connected to one of the soul-draining chambers, it grabs that person in its claw and carries it to an empty chamber, hooking it up to the Prison's power system. The more despair the captive experienced in its life, the more power it gives, so a caretaker prioritizes these targets above living people who have found their way into the Prison. Like all things in the Grey Prison, it is powered by the energy torn from its inmates. Tubes that feed the entire Prison with the cold energy of despair hang down from the various tunnels and chambers. Small claws on the caretaker's back continuously connect and disconnect it from various tubes as the caretaker patrols the Prison. Instinct: To maintain the Grey Prison.

• Feed the Grey Prison.
• Get a power boost from the Grey Prison.

Thin, faceless, vaguely humanoid, the Child of the Grey is a servant of something beyond the gods - raw nihilism made flesh. Most of the Children were trapped away from the world at its creation, sealed away from reality by the Divine. A spellcaster of appropriate bent or a crack in their prison can occasionally let one or more into the world. They have a fluid shape (but generally stay humanoid - two arms, two legs, and the occasional set of wings), and, upon destruction, explode into a cloud of grey ash that settles to earth. They do not personify death, but rather nonexistence - things destroyed by the Child's annihilation abilities are permanently gone, reduced to a sort of greasy dust that bears not even the mystical memory of what it once was, and is useless for... well.. anything. The Children are not so stupid as to indulge in wanton destruction, however. A single or small group of children will work to free their brethren, hoping to release a wave of nonexistence that will destroy all of reality. To this end, they will often work through cults or other agents of destruction, even coopting some of the followers of evil gods for that purpose. Instinct: To erase existence

• Attack with an ash- or dust-like construct, at any visible range. This construct can appear from any surface.
• Once, when the child is threatened by attack, it may alter reality in a subtle, destructive way to negate that attack for the duration of the conflict. (e.g., arrows no longer fire, a particular sword no longer swings correctly, an environmental hazard is negated or created.)
• Create tentacle construct - the Child can create a long-lasting, independent construct of dust or ash that consists of many tentacles apparently sprouting from the ground, water, or other equivalent source. This is an environmental hazard that can hurt (4dmg), rip away weapons, and more. Corrosion - The Child can annhialate a non-alive object it can touch, reducing it to a fine, grey powder.
• The child may change shape to add advantageous attributes - say, sprout wings, extend claws or reach, or more. Its body seems fluid.

It's simple enough really. First you build a body from petrified wood, about half again as tall as a man. Then you summon the spirit and persuade or compel it to aid you. Stick the spirit in the body, and send it out to track down the valuable lost things you're too busy to go get yourself. Heroes will find it tough to kill and be frustrated when it cuts open a pack and takes a spellbook or other precious item and strides away. Instinct: Collect valuable things

• Snatch away a treasure
• Stride quickly
• Abandon the body
• Hide the treasure

Named by the villagers for the first victim they ever saw, Umbilical Jenkens is actually a form of intelligent parasite that has been on the planet for a long time. It requires a warm blooded host to survive, and very slowly eats the host alive, thus requiring a new one after some time. While some Umbilical Jenkens are fine with sticking to animals like deer and bears and living alone, some prefer the bodies of humans. Infected humans lose their personality within 24 hours of the arm sized worm-like creature burrowing into their chest. From that point on, the Umbilical Jenkens is in control. The human no longer speaks, and appears almost zombielike in movement. When the monster is ready for a new host, a thick tentacle like appendage up to 9' long bursts from the stomach and captures the new host, hence the creature's name. Instinct: To strangle

• Shoot a thick, ropy appendage out of its abdomen and entangle

Instinct: To cause hangovers

• It manages to locate booze within a radius of itself.
• Obscene strength