"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

Ah, so, you would be the adventurers then. Come to collect on the bounty I set? Well... about that bounty... You see, the kingdom has been rather short in the way of gold, you see. And you, you disgusting murder hobos, aren't getting any. Now, I'm sure you understand, to assure my safety, you're going to have to be locked away, maybe even executed. We can't be having angry bounty hunters running amok round the castle, can we? Goodbye now, it was so nice to meet you... Guards! Instinct: To dictate

• Call the Guards!
• Trick someone into performing a service
• Betray someone

You want to know about the Sand Mother? Aye, I'll tell you. No, of course I've never seen her! Think I'd be here if I had!? She's half as big as a castle, A giant worm, that eats everything in its way! Don't you go looking for her now, you'd be a fool to try. How do you kill something that big? You can't even run. All you can do is pray to the maker... Instinct: To devour

• Burst from the ground, consuming all above it

Don't go wandering about the desert, Lad. You might have brought plenty of water, have suitable clothes, and a heat proof tent. But no one prepares for the sandworms. There are some areas, way out in the blistering heat, if you so much as touch the sand, dozens of the buggers will burst out of the ground, tear you up, and drag you down. Even if you somehow manage to kill them all, you never know if they've called their mother! But that's another story... Instinct: To consume

• Burst from the sand and attach to a foe
• Escape, back into the sand
• Return, in greater numbers
• Call for the mother

The towering giant moves slowly out of the fog with a whirring of mechanisms. You look up and see two unblinking lights in its iron skull. It's followed you across hill and dale, through swamp and over mountain, and it is finally here. There can be no negotiation. The automaton raises its arms, and shining blades whiz into action. This is a creature of destruction. You can run, but it will find you. There can be no rest, and only one possible end... Instinct: Kill without hesitation

• Move inexorably towards a foe, decimating everything in its path
• Raise a giant arm to prevent attack
• Crush a smaller enemy with its weight

"They stared into the void beyond and became what they saw: nothing. They gave into their primal nature and all that was civilized was discarded... If they find us, they'll rape us to death, eat our flesh, and sew our skins into their clothing. And, if we're very, very lucky, they'll do it in that order." Instinct: To ruin

• Torture to unimaginable pain
• Desecrate a place of worth
• Eat flesh from the living
• Push their bodies past the limit of human endurance

"Right there, in the bush!" "I don't see nothing..." "Tha's cause it's gone now" "You're pulling my leg, you are" "I never! I swear, I saw something! Look, right there, the bush looks different! Don't you see Randall? Randall?!" But Randall was gone... Instinct: To cause chaos

• Escape through telportation
• Blink someone to a nearby danger
• Strike quickly from a hidden location

You awake by the embers of the flickering campfire, the crypt's misty darkness encroaching all around you. The, last log went hours ago, and the precious light is dwindling. You quickly light a torch, but it's too late, the old ones have found you! It's fight or flight. You scramble to your feet and look around. There is a chilling gust of wind and your torch flickers out. You turn to run but they draw in closer. Backed into a corner, your only hope is slashing at darkness. Your breath is sucked from your lungs, as living darkness presses against you. There is a sudden stab of pain, deep, deep inside... And then nothing at all. Instinct: To snuff out light and life

• Drag a foe into the shadows of death
• Let mortal steel pass through its shadowy form
• Use death to bring another from the shadows
• Create darkness where there once was light