The Spiderlord has many ways to influence the forest's weaker denizens. The promise of power, for instance. To impart some lowly goblins a sliver of the Spiderlord's prowess is enough to guarantee a tribe's fealty. Now armed with arachnid appendages sprouting from their backs and a six new eyes, these goblins become vessels of the Spiderlord's bidding. Their goblin-speak is gargled by the frothing of venom, and their bloodlust has been given new purpose. They are no longer goblins -- they are Spidergraft. Instinct: To frenzy for its lord

• Pounce onto prey and poison it
• Charge with the horde

The outer spheres are places beyond understanding. More vivid and more intense than mortals can truly appreciate. Some things have powers that rival perhaps even the gods... but possess a very limited understanding of existence or motivation when applying these things. Dissolving rapidly into many smaller versions of itself, or turning things into crackers when none present themselves are but a few things such a creature can be capable of. But... why a parrot? Instinct: To fondly regard creation

• Unerringly determine the proximity and location of sustenance, especially crackers
• Warp reality to your whims
• Beckon forth an impossible number of duplicates
• Reveal the delusion that is space

Born of the earth. Rock-chewers, iron-spitters, ancient smiths. When the first Dwarf struck a mallet to metal, the Cyclopes emerged from the depths to facilitate the birth of a new iron age. Their forges are the subject of worship, and the eye of the Cyclops is an ancient Dwarven symbol that denotes perfect craftsmanship. To seek out the teachings of a Cyclops is to venture below the realm of the Dwarves -- to a place where the distinction between our world, the underworld, and the plane of earth is no longer obvious. If you can make it there, you will have already proven yourself worthy to be taught an ancient Cyclopean technique. Instinct: to forge underground

• Create something legendary
• Teach ancient metallurgy

"Great Phoenix, I plead to you! Renew the life of my stillborn son! Shed a single feather from the noonday sky, and the royal family shall be indebted to you as you once were to our ancestor! I beg to you as a humble descendent of your ancient master, Apyrion, grant me this favor to soothe our family's aching heart!" Instinct: to embody rebirth

• Arise from ashes after centuries
• Envelop the unworthy in flame
• Renew a person from death

Silken are the undead husks of those whose bodies were forgotten by a giant spider. As time went on, the victim's corpse, embalmed in webs, began to ferment with sickly poisons. Eventually the soul surrenders itself to its fate; to one day be eaten. So the Silken remains dormant. But Spiderlords have discovered a new use for them. In addition to being a reserve food source, the Silken can be commanded by their captor, and slow the advance of those encroaching into the Spiderlord's lair. Instinct: to protect its killer

• Enmesh in webbing
• Explode into poison
• Sense a disturbance in the web

A Wocket in the pocket is a nuisance for any adventurer. They are fickle creatures, and live in the cluttered spaces of the world. Leave too much random junk in your backpack and a Wocket might find its way in. The realm they live in isn't our own -- it's an interdimensional space that links every container in the world. Only a few creatures can exist, let alone perceive this place. Wockets are one of them. They're chatty folk too, and they love to bargain. If they take a liking to the knick-knacks in your bag, you'll have to convince them to lend you their newfound furniture. Instinct: to inhabit a pocket or bag

• Withhold an item for a price
• Vanish inside a pocket
• Weigh down its carrier

Sculpted to capture the essence of a great warrior, these stone or marble soldiers guard the halls of monarchs. They make great decorations too. Instinct: To guard

• Follow orders implacably
• Dent armor, crush bone
• Become still and blend in

When a wicked immolator has their brand ripped from their body, their soul burns eternally. What's left is a silhouette wreathed in flame, with two glaring eyes and the ability to torch its surroundings at will. It is unclear which is a worse fate: to burn to a crisp at the hands of the Cinderspawn, or to escape with memory of its searing gaze. Those who survive an encounter with such a creature find themselves plagued with night sweats and a burning sensation that disrupts one's thoughts. This affliction is known as Smoldermind, and when left untreated can be fatal -- with the victim being melted from the inside out. Instinct: to burn

• Afflict someone with a gaze
• Manipulate flames
• Toss a fireball

It was once a proud knight of a seafaring kingdom. It now is a bleeding savage, just swinging its blade wildly. It has a blue starfish clamped over its face. The starfish oozes a rotting poison that is deadly if not treated. Instinct: release poison

• Swing its sword wildly

The monstrous gibbering mouthers have many sources, some come from beyond; the edge of the world holding strange beings that form into horrific mounds of flesh. Others are made, foul necromancers who mold flesh together to create a horrifying being of nightmares. Instinct: to Consume

• Speak the many secrets it knows
• Reach into the minds of those nearby
• Call upon a necromancers magic
• Peirce minds with its screams