The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: Juan the Talking Mushroom

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    Once every year on the summer solstice, a strange creature emerges from the soil of Thiefrest Island. The few locals who claim to have seen him say his name is Juan, and that he is a talking mushroom. Those who take some time to speak with Juan will find him to be quite friendly, explaining that he spends all year dormant under the soil and that the solstice is the only day of the year with the right conditions for him to rise out of the ground. Standing roughly six feet tall when grown, Juan truly seems to have no motives beyond having good conversations on the one day a year he can speak with others. To this end, Juan the Talking Mushroom will do everything in his power to attract good conversation partners and get rid of boring ones. Although before he gets to speak with anyone they need to make their way to the exact center of the island, a task made difficult by the dense forest of the island Juan lives on. 

    Juan has two magical abilities that help him in his goal. The first is that when Juan emerges, he produces a mild psychic signal that gives intelligent and well-traveled an urge to visit the exact center of the island. This compulsion gets stronger or weaker depending on how good of a conversation partner an individual be, and also based on how close they are to Juan. The second magical ability Juan has is that he is able to produce spores from his cap at will. These spores, when inhaled, have a strong hallucinatory and narcotic effect, and they are used to distract boring conversation partners and make room for the cream of the crop. Although the spores are tiny, a cloth mask can keep one safe from their effects and allow a person keep talking with Juan even after he is done. I never had to use such tactics to talk with Juan, and I actually try to visit him on the summer solstice each year to fill him in on what I have seen since we last talked.

    Although I have only brought it up once or twice, Juan seems open to the idea of allowing someone to collect his spores for recreational use, but it is unclear how long the spores would maintain potency after collection. Hallucinogens aren't really my thing, so I have chosen to leave that experiment for someone else. The mycelium that Juan emerges from every year is also of value. Juan wouldn't appreciate it since the mycelium is a part of him too, but it would be lucrative. When ingested, this mycelium increases the memorization abilities of the user. While the effect does not last for more than a few hours, it allows a person to perfectly memorize just about anything for as long as the substance stays in their system. 

The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: Jeremiah Snakehead

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    Jeremiah Snakehead has been seen by exactly one person who lived to tell the tale, me. This is because of a few things. To begin, Jeremiah is quite small, only a few feet tall, and is terrified of anything larger than himself. He also spends all of his time in the most remote areas of the Windworn Range, hiding under rocks waiting for his prey to wander by. Jeremiah will lash out at anything that walks by his hiding place, biting them with a venom that causes nearly instant death. This venom is the true reason why no living person has ever seen Jeremiah and lived, since anyone who sees him is about to be bitten. I was able to find the beast through the clever use of a lot of hiking and a rat on a leash.

    I have reason to believe that the deadliness of Jeremiah Snakehead's venom is from a magical effect. No matter which part of a creature's body he bites, the poor thing dies in the same exact amount of time, and without any apparent damage to the body beyond the initial bite wound. As it so happens, Jeremiah has a bit of a discerning palate and he despises the taste of honey. Although this was discovered by accident during breakfast one day, it may prove to be useful for anyone travelling the Windworn Range.

    I was able to follow Jeremiah to his den, a small crag in a scree pile, and investigate. Inside his den, I found it lined with many his own hairs, creating a very soft home. I was able to collect enough to make a nice coat and it is probably the softest thing I own. Furthermore, I believe one could find a way to harvest Jeremiah Snakehead's venom and use it for themselves. A poison that leaves no trace would be very valuable to the right people, although I don't encourage anyone in trying to harvest Jeremiah's venom. Catching him would be dangerous enough, but to put yourself near his fangs is quite the dangerous endeavor.

The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: The Horrible Beaver

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    Although it is in the nature of beavers to dam up rivers and flood small areas, there is one that seems to do so maliciously. The Horrible Beaver is a native of the lower Ashy Drain and is believed by many to be the ultimate cause of the wetlands surrounding the river. Why the regular flooding of the Ashy Drain is blamed on a creature, it is worth noting that no such explanation exists for any of the other rivers close to the Horrible Beaver's home. Rarely seen due to the difficulty of traversing the wetlands and the amount of time it spends in its lodge, legends say that the creature is able to build new dams and flood entire villages in a single night. Allegedly, the Horrible Beaver will then move into the flooded houses to feed on any poor souls left behind in the water. I am unsure how much of this is true, as I only ever saw the creature feed on tree bark from the ashy willows it builds with. 

    A diet of ashy willows seems to be the reason for the Horrible Beaver's condition, make it twice the size of a normal beaver, abnormally intelligent, and particularly long-lived. While certainly somewhat hostile to other living things, I would hesitate to assign malicious intent to the creature's dam construction. Its increased intelligence and size seems to allow it to build larger and faster than any known beaver, leading to the unintentional flooding of many areas at a fast rate. Residents along the Ashy Drain generally fear the Horrible Beaver and the idea of needing to move their entire community, but a small group of carpenters have begun to revere the beast. Seeing its skill in constructing dams and other things from wood, these carpenters have begun wearing beaver-shaped amulets and making prayers to the Horrible Beaver to try to channel some of its skill. Another key feature of this veneration is the belief that people can ward off the beast by clearing their immediate area of ashy willows and leaving them as a tribute to the Horrible Beaver. While I do not think it changes the beast's plans, this practice does generally mean that the Horrible Beaver has little reason to be near settlements and is less likely to flood them. This does, however, mean that even fewer people have the chance to ever see the beast.

    Given its distaste for other animals, the difficulty in encountering it seems to work just fine for the Horrible Beaver, which spends much of its time not foraging or building in its lodge in the middle of a large, shallow pond. Something interesting I noticed is that the Horrible Beaver has a habit of smearing a thick oil produced in its skin glands around its territory. This oil smells strongly of butter, is very difficult to collect, and seems to contain some of the magical powers of longevity the the Horrible Beaver gets from its diet. While it does not grant immortality, regular use of this oil can grant significant longevity and youthfulness. Not really something I have an interest in, but I imagine most people would pay quite a bit for such a commodity.

The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: The Hidebehind

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    The dry, rocky outcrops of the Scarceness are home to many creatures small and large. Of these creatures, none seem quite so strange a the Hidebehind, a skinny, flexible creature able to contort itself to hide behind pretty much any object. The creature measures about six feet when stretched out, but it is rarely found in such an obvious posture, if it is found at all. Instead of food and water, the Hidebehind seems to gain its sustenance from the psychic energy produced by people in a state of shock. To get this energy, the beast will stalk its prey for days until just the right moment, at which point it will jump out from its hiding place, make a high-pitched, ululating shriek, and then hopefully its prey will be thoroughly surprised. After a successful hunt, the Hidebehind returns to its home in the cracks and crevices of a particularly large rocky outcrop.

    This creature appears to have some kind of magical sense for the psychic energy of surprised people because I was able to lure it for observations by drawing a crowd and telling them shocking facts about the wider world. The people of the Scarceness are few in number and very superstitious, so it is fairly easy to surprise them, which also makes them ideal victims for the Hidebehind. Local legends claim that the creature is a psychic vampire that will drain your thoughts until you become its mindless servant, but this is a falsehood. Although it is harmless, the Hidebehind seems to be allergic to cinnamon, and can be warded off by hanging dried cinnamon bark in an area.

    In order to maintain its high degree of flexibility, the Hidebehind has flexible bones that somehow provide the same strength and support as standard bones when not flexing. If this effect could somehow be studied or replicated, it would allow for the creation of much more durable machines and tools. While I am not sure how one would replicate the effect in metal, it would be one of the greatest magical and technological triumphs of all time.

The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: Gwaahrg

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    While there are many strange sounds one may come across in the wilderness, one of the strangest is Gwaahrg's bellowing scream. Able to be heard from miles around, Gwaahrg spends her days travelling the Damp Plains in search of its favorite prey, the field moose. Field moose are rather large and difficult to hunt, but the five-foot Gwaahrg is able to take them down just fine with her screaming. These screams are the only exposure most residents of her territory get, and that seems to be how Gwaahrg prefers it, doing her best to avoid people as much as possible. I was able to gain her trust be following the screams and offering some food when I got close enough for the creature to see me. I eventually followed Gwaahrg back to the burrow she sleeps in, at which point her tolerance for my presence failed and she drove me off.

    In driving me off, I almost got to be on the receiving end of Gwaahrg's deadly scream. She is able to produce a sound so powerful that only can it be heard for miles, but at close ranges the scream can stun, knock out, or even kill. Gwaahrg's horns act as magical sound amplifiers that turn what would be regular screams into the deadly waves of sound that they are. Luckily, these screams are only lethal if Gwaahrg can open her mouth or if she has clean horns. If she can't scream, Gwaahrg cannot harm anyone, and too much dirt on the horns prevents them from being able to conduct sound properly. Luckily for Gwaahrg, most creatures of the Damp Plains are unable to capitalize on this weakness, and very few people are aware of it.

    Eating nothing but field moose seems to be fine for Gwaahrg, but she does not seem to eat the antlers. Strangely, she does not leave the antlers behind when she hunts, begging the question of what happens to these antlers. My theory is that she keeps them in her burrow. While I am not sure what she does with them, I am certain that she has a small fortune in antlers, ready to be used by anyone who wants to risk the trip into Gwaahrg's burrow.

The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: Grubber

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    Sitting inside of a cave on the cliffs of Goldspire Island is a gigantic grub, known as Grubber. Grubber, although he is unknown to all but a few survivors, is able to extend the tentacles around his mouth up to a mile away while maintaining the strength needed to pick up a person and carry them back to the mouth to be consumed. Most victims never even see the tentacle before it is too late, and this tactic explains why most people are unaware that Grubber exists. The beast himself is almost forty feet long, although this is hard to observe since he never leaves his cave, and spends all of his waking hours with his tentacles extended in search of food. After carefully following a tentacle back to his cave, I was able to observe Grubber for quite some time. As it turns out, Grubber will eat virtually anything that he brings in with his tentacles, be it plant, animal, alive, or dead. All of it goes into Grubber's mouth.

    The extreme abilities of Grubber's tentacles to extend and maintain their strength over even a mile of distance is clearly the result of a magical ability. I also have reason to believe that these tentacles are even strong enough to move Grubber around, albeit slowly, should he ever need to move his massive body. Grubber does not seem to have very good eyesight despite his massive compound eyes, and so he relies on his sense of touch to catch things with his tentacles. To avoid Grubber is to always keep an eye out for his tentacles when you are nearby his cave. Although they can be hard to spot, they are mere flesh and Grubber will withdraw them if his tentacles are attacked.

    There is, however, reason to find Grubber's cave and climb the cliff face up there. Because he grabs people and other prey whole, Grubber has found himself in the possession of many rare and valuable items over the years. As far as I am aware, instead of tossing them back out into the ocean, Grubber will keep objects that give off a good shine or gleam with magical energy. Given how long Grubber has been around, there is no telling how large his hoard is, or what powerful artifacts he has.

The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: The Grass Weaver

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    The Grass Weaver is the explanation given by bog people for the woven grass huts periodically found out on the Damp Plains. Many believe these huts to be the work of pranksters, or even magic, but few actually believe that they are the work of a single creature. To the shock of many, the Grass Weaver is a very real being who lives a nomadic life out on the plains, foraging plants and hunting the occasional animal. Every night, the creature finds a large patch of grass and weaves a new hut over the course of an hour, providing them with shelter for the night. To maintain this nomadic lifestyle, the Grass Weaver tries their best to avoid people, seeing them as competition for the resources it depends on. Tracking down a creature that does not want to be found is difficult when they are also a master of their environment. The Grass Weaver is excellent at hiding their tracks and can create a magical mist to confuse followers, but I was able to get close by finding the hut they were sleeping in one night. Much to my surprise, the Grass Weaver turned out to be intelligent, and after their initial shock and suspicion ebbed, they were willing to tell me a bit about themselves.

    As they tell it, the Grass Weaver is the last of a tribe of similar creatures who were wiped out by one of the many past invaders of the Damp Plains, making them the sole person alive who remembers and continues their people's way of life. Part of this way of life is the frequent use of two spells passed down through the generations. The first is the magical mist used to get away from pursuers. This mist will actually induce a state of confusion in all who inhale it, save for the Grass Weaver, doubling its utility. The second spell is used for hunting and is called the spear of light. To cast this spell, the Grass Weaver must stand perfectly still for ten seconds before performing a complex hand motion, producing a beam of golden light that leaves a smoking hole in its target. Despite its utility, casting the spear of light leaves the Grass Weaver quite vulnerable for ten seconds, and they will almost always try to run away before they fight something.

    When I asked if I could learn the Grass Weaver's spells, they actually seemed quite happy to pass on their knowledge. They seemed so happy, in fact, that they also taught me how to weave a hut out of grass like they do, and offered to visit with me any time I was in the area. Despite the initial difficulty in getting in contact, the Grass Weaver turned out to be quite the pleasant person and I recommend anyone who meets them to send my regards, take the time to learn the Grass Weaver's spells, and maybe even take some time to travel with them and learn the ways of the plains.

The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: Gnomeater

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    It is said that a terrible beast stalks the alleys and sewers of Gnome City, devouring those unfortunate enough to run across it. Dismissed as lower class superstition, most citizens of the city are safe from the beast known as Gnomeater behind locked doors. Those unfortunate to find themselves alone in the dark places of Gnome City at night are likely to disappear, lured into Gnomeater's maw by it's hypnotic lure. After a meal, the seven foot long creature slithers back into the sewers, never to be found or even blamed for the deaths it causes. I was able to witness the beast after staking out one of the many taverns in the city. One night, I was able to follow a poor drunk who left alone and happened to stumble into a dark alley by mistake. While I was not able to save the gnome, I did get my first look at Gnomeater, and I was able to follow it to its lair in the city sewers. In so doing, I learned of one of the strangest magical properties I have ever witnessed.

    While the lure on the beast's head has an obvious magical hypnosis effect, used to lure in unwary prey, Gnomeater is covered in small scales that can be used to travel to the cosmic planes of alignment. Admittedly, discovering this was an accident, but when a person touches one of Gnomeater's scales, they are transported in both mind and body to whichever plane they are most aligned with at that moment. I returned back to where I was in the material plane after one hour, but further experimentation showed that touching multiple scales transports one for a number of hours equal to the number of scales touched. Gnomeater's lair is littered with these scales, as it is immune to the effect, which makes the lair treacherous for any person to traverse. For whatever reason, the same thing that causes the scales to transport people also makes Gnomeater incredibly sensitive to sunlight. This sensitivity has led to the belief that it is harmed by any light, and those who believe in Gnomeater are known to carry a source of light with them at all times to prevent an attack.

    I have no reason to visit the cosmic planes, but touching a scale is probably the easiest way I have ever encountered to transport to them. I am aware of several spellcasters who would love a way to travel to the planes so easily. Finding a way to do this without becoming a victim of Gnomeater, however, is easier said than done. I am not sure the potential to earn money outweighs the danger of collecting for me, but maybe there is someone out there desperate enough to trek through cramped sewers for hours to get their pay.

The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: Gigadeer

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    The Jagged Peaks of the Stormguard Mountains are said to be home to a creature twenty feet tall at the shoulder, able to jump from peak to peak without breaking a sweat, and known to transfigure attackers into deer. This beast is known as Gigadeer, and although it is commonly sighted in its home range, descriptions are too outlandish for most who have never seen it to believe. Gigadeer spends its time roaming rough mountain terrain in search of food. Generally, it prefers to eat the leaves of bushes and scrub plants, but Gigadeer will opportunistically eat meat as well. It tends to stay high up near the mountain peaks to avoid others, but Gigadeer is not usually hostile if it does come across others. When it encounters another animal, Gigadeer will try to ignore it unless the other creature proves to be hostile, at which point Gigadeer will defend itself.

    Despite having massive antlers and fangs to fight with, Gigadeer prefers to use its magical ability. Any creature that Gigadeer focuses its eyesight on for more than a moment is instantly transfigured into a baby deer. Although they maintain their original minds, these transformed fawns are incapable of bringing harm to Gigadeer and can be safely ignored. There is no way to reverse this condition that I am aware of, leaving anything transformed by Gigadeer to fend for itself. This ability relies on sight, however, so if Gigadeer cannot see something, it cannot transform it. I was able to avoid transformation by the quick use of an invisibility spell several times during my observations. 

    During this time, I could not help but think of how many rich people would pay through the nose to have a beast such as Gigadeer around. Assuming you could prevent it from jumping over any and all fences, Gigadeer would be one of the most effective guard animals in the world. Additionally, one could use Gigadeer to produce an unlimited supply of veal from whatever livestock is on hand. While I do not personally need a guard animal, unlimited veal, or large sums of money, I suspect someone out there wants those things, and all they need to do is capture Gigadeer.

The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: The Gardener Beast

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    One of the strangest creatures of the Flatwood is the Gardener Beast, an eight foot-tall creature that spends his days caring for the plants of the forest. The Gardener Beast tends to avoid people and other animals, preferring the company of plants in the densest parts of the forest. The only times that the Gardener Beast seeks out other animals is when he is hungry, as he only ever eats meat. Plants are apparently off-limits for food, and the Gardener Beast seems to even target creatures that it sees eating plants. Using his sharp, spade-like claws and pointy horns, the creature is a formidable foe to those it hunts. While local legends speak of him, very few people have ever actually seen him and lived to tell the tale. These legends also say that he is responsible for tending all of the plants of the Flatwood, and that he keeps no permanent lair or nest because his task keeps him moving all the time.

    I observed the Gardener Beast only a few times after a year of study, but it leaves a distinct trail if one knows what to look for. The Gardener Beast causes seeds to sprout and plants to grow larger just by being near them, so I was able to find him by following the trail of young plants and thick growth that he leaves. This ability, of course, also helps keep him hidden from anyone who wishes to hurt him. When he does go hunting, the Gardener Beast also uses this ability help trap his prey. Apparently as a consequence of his love for plants, the creature seems hesitant to attack anything that uses a living plant as a shield. The few times I gained his notice, I was able to use this to distract the Gardener Beast long enough to get away.

    Although he is generally hostile to other animals, I cannot help but feel like the Gardener Beast could be made useful to others. If he could be convinced to spend time in fields of crops, or if people could bring the seeds of difficult to grow plants to him, the Gardener Beast's magical effect could do a lot of good. The issue is that I have no idea how one would convince this creature to help out people, given its diet and attitudes towards plant consumption. If his prejudices could be overcome, the Gardener Beast could be an incredible ally.

The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: The Fruit Gobbler

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    Some creatures have no ill intent towards others despite being relatively dangerous. This is not the case for the Fruit Gobbler, a nuisance of a creature that stands about five feet tall and which likes to spend her time stealing the fruit that other people picked. The Fruit Gobbler is quick, an excellent climber, and can teleport up to ten feet at a time. These three factors make the Fruit Gobbler a menace of the only area in the Damp Plains that can support large numbers of fruit trees. The beast has long, sharp claws that are useful for climbing, spearing fruits, and slashing anyone trying to stop her. Although others believe the Fruit Gobbler is something the locals made up to explain why they export so little fruit despite the size of the orchards, there is not a single orchard worker who doesn't have stories of her.

    The Fruit Gobbler seems to eat nothing but fruit, so the best way to avoid her is to not carry fruit with you. On a more serious note, the orchard workers have several superstitions about how to ward her off. Many of them believe that she hate garlic and will not come close to your fruit if you throw a few garlic cloves in your pocket. I cannot say how accurate this is, but it is the most popular method of warding off the Fruit Gobbler. It is said that she has made her nest in the very center of the orchard, in a secret location that only the Fruit Gobbler can access through the use of her teleportation power. I was unable to find her lair, so these stories may be true.

    Something odd I noticed about the Fruit Gobbler is that her claws glow for a brief moment before she teleports, leading me to believe that the claws are somehow responsible for the ability. The Fruit Gobbler regularly has the tips of her claws break off, and I was able to collect a few. Each claw tip seems to have enough magical power left in it to replicate the Fruit Gobbler's teleportation power exactly once, which I think could be useful.

The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: The Flying Badger

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    Sometimes while travelling through the bog lands of Squee, one can hear a strange droning sound in the distance. The Bog People say that it is the sound of the Flying Badger as it soars through the air. Although it is the size of a normal badger, the creature appears to have had metal wings and a tail added onto it, as well as a propeller for its nose. How such a creature came to be is anyone's guess, but the Flying Badger seems to take to its odd biology as if it has always been like this. The Flying Badger uses its ability to quickly travel from place to place. Although the creature still digs and burrows in the soil for food, it is able to range much farther than its terrestrial brethren.

    I have no doubt that the coexistence of mechanical and biological in the Flying Badger is the result of some kind of magic, though I could not tell you what. The creature is very quick both on the ground and in the air so I was only ever able to observe it for a few moments from afar before it would fly away or disappear underground. The Flying Badger does not appear to keep a permanent residence, instead choosing to dig a new burrow every night in a dryer part of the bog lands it calls home. It does not seem to have much interest in attacking anything larger than a swamp rat unless provoked, and it is quick to run away whenever anything larger than it shows up.

    Somehow, the metal parts of this creature do not rust or weather in the damp, muddy environment of Squee. I have reason to believe that the Flying Badger produces a special oil on its skin that protect the metal. If one could harvest this oil somehow, they would have a very effective method of preserving whatever metal things they own. If one were able to actually capture the Flying Badger long enough to collect oil from its skin, they may also want to take some anatomical notes, but I suppose that isn't strictly necessary.

The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: The Elephant Bird

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    Standing forty feet tall and spending its days roaming the hills of the Crusty Mountains is the Elephant Bird, one of the most voracious creatures in the world. The Elephant Bird spends its days roaming the mountains, consuming all of the fruit and foliage that seems even remotely edible. It eats more than even a creature of its size ought to, even, but it does not seem to be harmed by this constant eating. Eating is what this beast does best, however. It uses its trunk to grab and shovel food into its mouth as it walks through the hills and cliffs of the Crusty Mountains. The Elephant Bird never sleeps, only eats, and spends most of its time in the densest forests where the trees are even taller than the bird. Following its trail is difficult due to the dense forest it sticks to and the rugged mountain terrain, and the creature is quick to run away with its long legs.

    Although the creature's tusks look like they would make formidable melee weapons, they are actually used to generate magical beams of energy which the Elephant Bird Fires at aggressors. The few times I saw the creature use its magical defenses, its targets underwent strange, horrific changes that left them dead instantly. It is, however, easy to avoid the notice of such a large creature, and it does not seem to give much mind to what goes in its mouth, so I suspect that the Elephant Bird could be easily captured or given a massive dose of sleeping potion for up-close study. 

    Given their magical nature, I have reason to believe that the Elephant Bird's tusks would regrow if removed, and while it would not be able to use its magic until then, the creature is large and powerful enough to defend itself in the mean time. The tusks, in turn, ought to maintain some of their magical properties after harvest, and could be carved into powerful weapons. I know of precious few craftspeople with the skill to work such a material without having the effect turn on them, but they would charge a hefty fee.

The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: Dwayne the Roc

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    Living on the windy coast of the Titan's Ring is a massive bird large enough to carry off an elephant known as Dwayne the Roc. Dwayne spends most of his time flying high above the clouds, so high up that he appears to be the size of a normal bird from the ground. Because of this, tales of Dwayne are often dismissed as fantasy even by the residents of the island. The Roc uses this to his advantage and makes a habit of attacking small groups of travelers who are far away from help. Baiting Dwayne for observation really was as simple as wandering into the wilderness by myself and preparing some kind of protection against his attack. As it turns out, this bird is able to talk, and he was able to go into great detail about how he uses his wings and teeth to rip prey to shreds. According to Dwayne, he spends all of his time either sleeping in his nest on the eastern coast or soaring high above the clouds, hunting for food. 

    Dwayne is able to hunt from such heights due to his supernaturally powerful eyesight. He is able to see just about every detail of the ground even at the highest altitudes, allowing Dwayne to make the best decisions when hunting. If the bird is to be believed, he is even able to see in such detail without light, making him truly difficult to hide from. One issue with this, however, is that Dwayne only ever sees things from above. If one wants to avoid him, they just have to blend in almost perfectly with the ground from above. The lizard folk of the island have developed several techniques to make themselves look like trees and bushes from above, but most people on the island are unaware of such tricks.

    For those brave enough to go looking for Dwayne's nest, there is quite the reward. Dwayne's feathers are some of the warmest in the world to keep him safe when he is flying high up in the air, and he sheds them periodically. These feathers litter the ground around the nest and there are a great deal inside the nest itself. These feathers could easily be used to create some of the warmest clothing one will ever wear, they just need to go collect it.

The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: Dreggarridgeon

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    Legends from the Ashmount Range describe a massive, bipedal cat with the horns of a ram that roams the slopes in search of hair. The beast's massive teeth act as shears, allowing Dreggarridgeon to shave a goat in just a few minutes. Dreggarridgeon, standing about twelve feet tall, is mostly ash grey with darker stripes which help him blend in and better ambush his prey. While it may seem odd, and it is, the goats the creature shaves often need special care until their fur grows back or they are at risk of freezing to death in the cold alpine nights and winters. Tracking Dreggarridgeon for observation was a difficult task because he seems to leave no footprints behind and he makes his home in the crater of a dormant volcano.

    How such a large creature can leave no trace as it moves is due to a magical ability. An oil produced by glands on Dreggarridgeon's wrists magically prevents him from leaving fur behind, making tracks, or even producing a scent trail. This helps the creature get away after an ambush and is part of the reason why most believe it to be a legend. While goat herders of the Ashmount Range must contend with Dreggarridgeon and his hunger for hair, most think that such a creature could never exist. While he is hard to spot coming and going, legends also say that Dreggarridgeon hates spicy foods, which is why Ashmount goat herders traditionally bathe their flocks with chili powder every morning.

    In order to find where Dreggaridgeon sleeps, I had to follow him closely after I caught him shaving a goat one day. He is truly difficult to follow, but with persistence I was able to follow him back to his volcano crater. The scene that would unfold before me is one that I truly did not expect. Inside the crater were some of the most beautiful woven rugs I have ever seen, all made from pure goat hair. As soon as he returned to his home, Dreggarridgeon regurgitated most of the hair he had taken and began to wash and dry it. He then moved on to hair that had already been drying and began to dye it several colors. Finally, he took colors that had finished dying and used them to make yarn, which he wove together into the aforementioned rugs. I do not know how or why this creature is able to do such a thing, but I believe his rugs must be worth more than just about any other textile I have ever seen.

Gremlins

 

   I had a random bout of inspiration, so here is a post about how gremlins work in my setting. I think it would be interesting to run a game centered around the overall concept, but for now I think they are just an interesting complication to throw at the party. Don't mind the formatting, I couldn't find a better way to include the images.

    Gremlins are magical creatures formed from negative emotions directed at lifeless objects. That is to say, when an inanimate thing attracts enough anger, annoyance, and spite from living things, a creature appears. These creatures, gremlins, have the singular goal of making their object the recipient of even more negative feelings, on which they feed. They are small, have the ability to become invisible, and they have a deep understanding of their object and how to make it as annoying as they can. Not all negative feelings directed at inanimate things produce a gremlin. Smaller objects are more likely to produce a gremlin because they cannot absorb as much negative energy before it overflows, while more complicated objects are more likely to form a gremlin for reasons that are as yet unknown. Small, complicated objects with many moving parts are highly prone to forming gremlins. The main result of these trends is that complex machinery that breaks down a lot is often infested with gremlins making all of the existing issues much worse.

    Gremlins, as magical creatures, can have almost any appearance imaginable. There are, however, a few constants. Gremlins are never larger than their associated object, but they are usually much smaller. They are usually quite small so they can have maximal access to their object, especially if it is a complex object with many nooks and crannies. As far as body plan goes, all gremlins have two arms and two legs like a human, but that is often where the similarities end. Gremlins can be furry, scaly, slimy, or just about any texture, and they can be just about any color. Their heads and bodies are often adorned with spines, horns, and antlers. Some people believe that gremlins take on different appearances based on the items they are bound to, but there is little evidence to suggest this is consistent. After their initial formation, gremlins do not grow or change unless they fail to attract enough negative energy. If this happens, the gremlin in question will become skinnier and skinnier until they cease to be.

    In the pursuit of attracting negative emotions, gremlins are quite gifted. Although they lack the ability to speak or perform any significant feats of cognition, gremlins have a perfect understanding of how their object works and the best ways to bother living things with it. In the case of simpler objects, the gremlin may move it to make people trip, or it may hide the object from its rightful owner. For a machine, the gremlin has many more options. It may clog up pipes, break gears, or disconnect cables. For particularly large, complicated machines, an initial gremlin may form for the entire machine and then focus on specific parts or areas in an attempt to have smaller gremlins form tied to those parts in particular. If this gets bad enough, it is possible for the main gremlin to start organizing teams of smaller gremlins to work together and make the machine unusable. 

    Finding and removing gremlins can be an arduous process. All gremlins have the ability to become invisible and maintain complete silence indefinitely. They are still physical beings, however, so they can be detected by other means. There are also a number of spells and magical abilities that can reveal gremlins for easier capture. The only way to actually get rid of gremlins, however, is to counteract the negative energy that created them with positive energy. Positive energy, proportional to the amount of negative energy that the object has received during its existence, must be directed at the object. For most people this means a relatively long process of being extra nice to an inanimate object, but those who follow religions that value kindness, patience, and positivity often have prayers and rituals that can speed the process up. It is also possible to use magic to direct positive energy at the object in question. Regardless of method, once sufficient positive energy has been directed at the object, the gremlin will fade away until the object collects enough negativity to reform the gremlin. Because of this, some cultures and businesses perform regular rituals to prevent gremlin formation in their communities, although some work better than others. What gremlins do form will do everything in their power to try to sabotage these rituals, however, so it really is a constant battle.

The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: The Dread Manatee

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    The Dread Manatee is, if the people of Goldspire Island are to be believed, a common hallucination of those who go on expeditions around the island without bringing enough food and water. What they describe is a massive manatee the size of a killer whale that is somehow able to float through the air, ambushing prey from high altitude. Such a beast actually does exist, and it roams the coasts of the island. It has a habit of attacking caravans, but it does not always catch everyone in the caravan, leaving the few survivors to find their own way back to food, water, and shelter. When it is not hunting, the beast rests in the upper atmosphere, making observation difficult.

    The incredible feat of flying, as far as I can tell, is the result of some kind of gas within the Dread Manatee that allows it to fly through the air as if it was water. It is unclear if this flying ability is the result of magic or a natural development, but what is magical for sure is the creature's fireproof skin. Fire cannot harm the Dread Manatee's hide, leaving no marks behind. That being said, I have reason to believe that fire is also the key to warding off this beast. Although its skin is impervious to flames, the Dread Manatee will always turn its face away from even a tiny spark. Perhaps the inside of the Dread Manatee is not quite as fireproof as the outside? Either way, I doubt the creature's reaction to inhaling flames would be more than floating away, even if rumor has it that the creature would explode.

    There is much money to be made for those who are willing to brave an encounter with the Dread Manatee. Not having much use for the goods in the caravans it attacks, the beast's hunting grounds are littered with abandoned wagons. This caravan graveyard, while directly in the sight of the creature, is filled to the brim with trade goods, and maybe even some food and water that hasn't gone bad yet. All one has to do to ensure their safety is maintain a constant shield of fire.

The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: The Dracomole

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    Rarely seen above ground is the Dracomole, the fifty-foot long mole with the scales and claws of a dragon. Although fearsome, the beast spends almost all of its time below the soil of the plains it calls home. Under the soil, the Dracomole spends its days hunting giant muck worms, using its massive claws to dig through the dirt. Not having much need for its eyes, the Dracomole has sensitive feelers around its nose that help it find things in the dark. The only times it seems to come above the ground is when it detects gold, which it covets. Anyone traversing the Damp Plains with large amounts of gold has always been said to be doomed, and while this is mostly superstition, I believe that it started out as a serious warning in the parts the Dracomole is known to inhabit. 

    Somehow, the beast is able to smell gold, and any amount larger than a pound is bound to draw the Dracomole's attention if it is nearby. This of course made observing the creature fairly easy, although expensive. This compulsion to collect gold seems difficult to ignore, but avoiding this creature is as easy as not carrying large amounts of gold. The Dracomole does not seem to use much discretion when it collects gold, leading to many other things getting dragged along after the beast attacks. 

    Where the Dracomole takes its gold is unknown. My best guess is that somewhere beneath the surface of the Damp Plains is a large, wet cavern filled with gold and whatever other trinkets the Dracomole took along with its treasure. If someone were to be brave enough to bait the beast and then follow it when it went below ground, I think they would be taken on the express route to this hoard. That said, given the Dracomole's lust for gold, taking its treasure away would probably mean a fight. For the record, this fight would probably have to happen below ground, in a damp tunnel, covered in mud, and this beast is massive.

The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: The Dire Salamander

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    One of the most mysterious creatures of the bog land of Squee is the Dire Salamander, a salamander roughly the size of an alligator. This creature spends most of its time digging in the mud of the bogs and swamps of Squee for snails and crawfish, almost never being seen by the people of the bogs. Although it may not have much interest in hunting larger prey, the Dire Salamander is well-equipped to defend itself. The spines on its back and sides are razor sharp, and it is able to whip its bladed tail around faster than the eye can follow. A few bog people and swamp merchants actually claim to have seen the Dire Salamander, and I was able to track it down based on their reports of where they saw it. The beast does little to hide its presence, so it was mostly a matter of watching the edges of the water.

    After several weeks of observation, I witnessed several creatures try to pick a fight with the Dire Salamander. Inevitably, these foolish animals were torn to shreds, but they would usually get a few good hits in before their passing. Incredibly, the Dire Salamander seems to be able to heal most wounds in moments, as even the deepest slashes would seal up before blood could spill. It seems like this ability is a response to the razor sharp spines, but it is hard to say. Regardless of its origin, this magical ability makes the Dire Salamander a dangerous opponent. Should one ever be on its bad side, they will need some way to avoid being slashed to pieces, after which it becomes a battle of endurance. I assume that since it is not violent by nature, the Dire Salamander will attempt to flee when it sees its blades are ineffectual.

    While I do not believe it would do so willingly, the healing abilities of the Dire Salamander lead me to believe that one could harvest its spines without doing any long-term damage. Such sharp blades would be useful to most people, and with a near-unlimited supply, many people could have one. I also have reason to believe that the blood of the Dire Salamander can be used to reproduce its healing effect in others, but I was unable to restrain the creature for sample collection. Thinking back on it, restraining such a beast to harvest its spines and blood sounds like a fool's errand, and I would caution anyone foolish enough to try against it.

The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: Crocodillox the Great

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    Although a creature resembling a bipedal crocodile may not seem like the most bizarre thing in the world, Crocodillox the Great has been a fixture of bog person folklore for generations. The bog people speak of a twenty foot tall beast who is able to swim through mud and dirt as easily as through water, jumping up out of the soil to ambush unwary travelers. Given its ability to swim through dirt, finding Crocodillox took many years of searching the bog lands of Squee. Eventually, I discovered its nest, a massive pile of rotting leave, damp grass, and discarded bits of its last meal. Crocodillox is an obligate carnivore, preferring to hunt the largest prey it can handle to have something to feed on for several days before it must hunt again. Crocodillox, despite its size, will very rarely stand and fight, preferring to dive into the ground and wait for the perfect moment to attack. 

    The source of this magical ability to swim through the ground seems to be Crocodillox' claws, which have a strange sparkle to them. When using its ability, Crocodillox is able to treat dirt, sand, clay, and thick mud as if it was regular water. While the creature is able to hold its breath for long periods of time, it must still come up to breathe from time to time. Crocodillox seems to have no issues returning to the surface and using the soil to walk on again, making it a particularly dangerous foe. The beast is unable to use its abilities on rocks, oddly enough. Although there are very few rocks in Crocodillox' territory to take advantage of this weakness with, it is the only way I am aware of to be truly safe from the creature's ambushes.

    Crocodillox the Great has caused the end of many travelers through the years, including hunters, merchants, and even wealthy folks. All of the inedible parts of the beast's meals can be found inside its nest. Although finding the nest and having time to rummage through it without being attacked by Crocodillox may be difficult, the reward would be great. Crocodillox has been around for a very long time and I assume it has created quite the collection of items. I could see several weapons and pieces of jewelry on observation of the nest from a distance, so it stands to reason that there is quite a bit there. 

The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: Clip-clop the Deathbringer

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    There is a creature that roams the coastal plains of the Planar Peninsula, known for being one of the most deadly creatures alive. Known almost exclusively from the trail of dead grass and animals rather than eyewitness accounts, Clip-clop the Deathbringer truly seems to earn her title. Although no larger than a pony, it seems that everything the beast touches dies within moments. This is apparently no problem for Clip-clop, who will gladly consume anything that was once alive. Whenever confronted by an adversary, she will lower her horns and charge, clearly used to the protection her magical effect provides.

    How Clip-clop gained her deadly powers is unknown, but any physical contact between her and another living thing will cause the other thing to die a few moments later. This effect does not seem to transfer through any kind of barrier, and even clothing is enough to save one's life, however the beast is very aggressive and her horns can easily break most forms of protection. That said, Clip-clop relies heavily on her magic to win in a fight, so anything that can be used to prevent physical contact will help one stay alive long enough to get away.

    After a few days of study, I noticed that the Clip-clop's deadly effect seems to be strongest when one touches her horns. Although the difference is small, organisms that touched one of her six horns died sooner than if they had touched any other part of her body. It is my belief that the creature's deadly power could be nullified if her horns were removed. While doing so would be quite a trick, I believe that the horns would retain some of their magic, making for some of the most deadly weapons in the world.

The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: Bugaboo

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    Despite his great strength, Bugaboo is one of the kindest and most timid creatures I have had the pleasure of meeting. This ten-foot tall creature spends most of his time foraging in the forests of the lower Joinder Valley in my home of the Cephalus Mountains. Bugaboo's fearsome claws and antlers are only ever used for defense, as he is an herbivore and detests violence. Legends of Bugaboo and his hospitality to travelers have long circulated among the kobolds of the Cephalus Mountains, but very few have ever found his lair and had the opportunity to meet Bugaboo in the flesh. When I was able to meet Bugaboo, he invited me into his cave and offered me a cup of tea and some snacks, assuming I was tired and looking for a place to rest up. Taking him up on his offer, he also agreed to tell me a bit about himself. Bugaboo is one of an extremely long-lived species can only ever have one living member at a time. He hatched from an egg that his predecessor laid shortly before his death, emerging from the shell the moment the old one passed. 

    Although he is tough and capable of defending himself, Bugaboo has no magical powers outside of his intelligence and specific knowledge he hatched with. Bugaboo places great value in maintaining a good reputation so that if anyone ever wished him harm, there will be others to help him defend himself. Knowledge of medicine and preservation techniques, as well as how to create and maintain enchanted coolers, has made him useful to many travelers outside of his offers of tea and snacks. Despite all of this, it seems that Bugaboo views himself as quite vulnerable in this world, having anxieties over the chance that someone could hurt him and end the Bugaboo line or harm the seed under his lair.

    Bugaboo and his line are charged with protecting a seed vault older than any known civilization, magically possessing the knowledge of how to maintain what Bugaboo described as the largest collection of seeds on the planet. Bugaboo has no knowledge of who created the seed bank or why, but he knows that much of his collection is made up of plants that are otherwise extinct. Bugaboo believes that his work is important not just because he has a magical imperative to believe so, but because he now recognizes that should some disaster ever befall the world, his job will then become to help distribute the seeds in his vault and help rebuild.

The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: The Bone Dragon

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    Entirely unknown even to the residents of the nearby islands is the Bone Dragon of the Amethyst. This highly secretive creature makes its home in the tangled maze of bleached coral known as the Amethyst, making a meal of anyone unfortunate enough to find their way to the island. Although it appears to be undead, this abnormally large dragon is a living thing that must eat the poor souls it kills to survive. Its appearance, while terrifying, seems to be the result of selective invisibility, not necromancy. Oddly, this dragon lacks the intelligence that most of its kin possess and it is highly aggressive. After just half a day on its island, I had nearly been eaten several times and decided to give up any plans for a longer observation in order to save my own life. I think this makes me the only living witness to the Bone Dragon.

    I do not know by what means the Bone Dragon came to be the way it is, but it appears to be able to briefly extend its selective invisibility to complete invisibility. While it cannot do so for long, the labyrinthine nature of its home makes the ability to disappear for even a moment a valuable tool. This dragon does not hoard items of any type, not even the bones of its victims, and its only motive is to eat. I was able to use its lesser intelligence to my advantage and escape, but its sheer brute force made it difficult.

    It is a shame that the creature is unintelligent, for if it were more like its intelligent relatives I would love to trade for some invisible dragon scales. Such a material would be of incredible use, but I can think of no way to get them off of the Bone Dragon without serious risk to myself or others. It is my hope that no one is ever foolish enough to attempt to retrieve scales from this beast, for they are guaranteeing themselves a painful death at the claws of a truly terrifying creature.

The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: The Blue Man

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    There is an island in the Sea of Treasure that is said to be covered in plants that are blue instead of green. Home to many blue animals as well, the strangest inhabitant is a creature that appears to be made of living sapphire, the Blue Man. While it is unclear if he actually requires food to survive, he periodically leaves his giant crystal home with a retinue of crystalline animals to hunt down pretty much anything that moves. His victims are dragged back to his home, after which what the Blue Man does with them is entirely unknown. Standing about ten feet tall, the Blue Man is able to alter his shape to better match his needs, making him a formidable foe to the poor creatures in his path. Despite all this, the Blue Man and his retinue blend in with the foliage very well and frequently surprise their prey. Incidentally, this made finding them for observation nearly impossible. Most visitors to the Sapphire are lucky enough to never even hear of the Blue Man, which is for the best.

    The Blue Man has an obvious magical nature that seems to only be limited by the amount of crystal in his body. While he is able to change his shape, he never creates or destroys crystal. He also appears to be limited to a relatively humanoid form. While I have certainly witnessed him taking extreme liberties with his shape, I have never witnessed him take on a non-humanoid shape. The Blue Man's behavior is often inscrutable, but one consistent thing I noticed was that he goes out of his way to pick up any chunk of himself or his posse of crystal animals that happens to fall off, but he seems unable to reattach these pieces outside of his crystal home.

    Of course, if the larger world was more aware of the Blue Man, he would probably start to see many visitors trying to take parts of him or his home to sell. I believe that in addition to their value as gemstones, these sapphires would have value in amplifying the strength of transmuting magics, or even be able to perform some small feats of transformation with their own magic. The Blue Man is very protective of these fragments that fall off of it, so I have not had much opportunity to test these theories.

 

The Immortal Naturalist's Guide to Cryptic Creatures: Blorgon of the Desert

This post is part of the Immortal Naturalist's Guide series. The explanation for that series can be found in this post.

    It is said that in the very center of the Sea of Dust there is a place so dry that not even the hardiest of plants can grow. Legends say that all who try to cross this stretch are doomed to die for no matter how much water they bring, it will dry up when they are farthest from being able to get more. Birds that attempt to fly over the area fall out of the sky, fully dehydrated. This wasteland is known as Blorgon's Waste, after the supposed cause of the dryness, Blorgon of the Desert, a massive predator the size of a giraffe. While most believe the legends to be nothing more than stories, savvy desert wanderers know that he is far too real. A voracious carnivore, the beast, apparently unbothered by the lack of water, wanders around scavenging the carcasses of whatever poor creatures happened to perish there. The dryness is an effective preservative, so Blorgon is rarely in a rush to get to the next meal. 

    Legends, surviving witnesses, and personal experience all agree that something about Blorgon is the cause for the dryness of his wasteland. When he is nearby, the effect becomes noticeably stronger, making the cause clear. Blorgon is no slouch in a fight, however, as he is able to stand up on his hind legs and swing with his clawed forepaws and his bladed tail. Blorgon does not need to rely on his desiccating aura to catch prey, but it seems to make things much easier. Despite this apparent strength, Blorgon seems to avoid water as much as possible, leading me to believe that his effect is just as much defensive as offensive. I would not dare try to get close enough to test this theory, but I doubt Blorgon can handle water very well.

    In my observations, I noticed that Blorgon seems to regularly shed and regrow his teeth. They seem to retain some of his desiccating magic, and I have started using them to quickly dry out rations for later use. Blorgon does not seem to care about where his teeth are left, but following him long enough to get even one was dangerous. I had to withstand his aura at almost full strength for two days before he shed a tooth and at that point hanging around for more could have been fatal. Although it was worth it, I would not wish that experience upon anyone else.