Post by Hildeguard Von Ravencroft on Jul 14, 2013 18:59:00 GMT -5
(( Credits: Pathfinder, Dnd 3.75 ))
((By no means a complete bestiary, but I wish to start entries to inspire others to flesh out the wildlife in their respective regions.))
A Bestiary, penned by the Demacian Border Guard
Gallow Tree
The Gallow Tree is, at a glance, a large tree with a great many vines in its canopy, the ground around it thick with vegetation. When approached, one may distinguish the many bodies hanging from its thick branches, hence its name.
This creature is nothing but pure evil. It bears sweet fruit indeed, but if only to lure the unwary near. Once within range, a victim is quickly beset by the bodies, which turn out to be its minions. Should a brave soul reach the tree, its many thick vines come to life and make short work of interlopers. Victims are quickly relieved of their innards, to be used as fertilizer for the tree, and then slowly converted into its Infected minions.
Living in a place like the Bubbling Bog, bringing to fire to bear against it is difficult, as most everything is damp. These trees are often of the massive variety, and almost always bear scars of the axe upon its bark, having healed over and thickened with the husks of its rotted minions.
Gallow Infected
Any living man or lizardfolk taken by the seeds of the Gallow Tree is transformed into a rabid infected that serves the accursed creature known as the Gallow Tree. These enslaved unfortunates show the signs of having stayed in the bog for a period of time, covered in moss and fungus, maggots eating away at their flesh, skin broken. A large hole in their abdomen reveals their innards are missing, having been used by the tree like rich fertilizer.
They have never responded to calls from those who knew them in life; though occasionally they are taken by a rage and attack the acquainted. These infected hang in the vines of the tree until living victims near, whereupon the unprepared prey are immediately killed and brought to the tree.
The Infected are stronger and faster than its former host, albeit lacking in sight and intelligence, relying on scent and sound to locate its prey. They always focus their efforts on single prey and bring it down as fast as they can, and will never retreat unless its mother tree is threatened. For all purposes, they do not stop until their bodies are completely destroyed, making them dangerous foes.
Devil Fish
These malefic purple creatures, in the likeness of multi-limbed serpents or fish and the size and weight of horses, are the bane of those who strive for a living upon the Serpentine River or its inhabitants. They are devious and cunning beasts, often ensnaring livestock upon the river banks to lure the foolish to their doom.
They all bear a superficial semblance to Baron Nashor, albeit on a thankfully smaller scale. The largest the Patrol has encountered, was ten feet from its longest tentacle to tip of its head, though there are occasionally bigger carcasses that wash ashore on the river banks.
I have personally slain three of these creatures with my fellows, and have lost a man on one occasion. If our hearing was true, and we all agreed we heard, these devil fish can speak in the tongue of men- to what extent their intellect extends, or what size they may grow, is a terrifying thing to ponder.
Drowned Ones:
There are few undead as terrifying as the monstrosities known as Drowned Ones. Superficially they resemble the wet zombies that plague the Marsh, and indeed they keep a retinue of such minions to hide among, to lure would be undead slayers to join their ranks.
Once battle is joined, the nature of their unholy powers is made horrifically apparent: They seem to have a supernatural aura, a malicious ability that causes anyone of weak mental and bodily fortitude to literally feel like they are drowning. It is a sensation almost unexplainable- holding one’s breath does not even help. With their prey rendered quickly vulnerable, the zombies make short work of the victim.
To battle one in melee is to court one’s doom. Better to strike it at range, or flee, as they seem to have little interest from leaving their Marshy home.
((By no means a complete bestiary, but I wish to start entries to inspire others to flesh out the wildlife in their respective regions.))
A Bestiary, penned by the Demacian Border Guard
Bubbling Bog:
Gallow Tree
The Gallow Tree is, at a glance, a large tree with a great many vines in its canopy, the ground around it thick with vegetation. When approached, one may distinguish the many bodies hanging from its thick branches, hence its name.
This creature is nothing but pure evil. It bears sweet fruit indeed, but if only to lure the unwary near. Once within range, a victim is quickly beset by the bodies, which turn out to be its minions. Should a brave soul reach the tree, its many thick vines come to life and make short work of interlopers. Victims are quickly relieved of their innards, to be used as fertilizer for the tree, and then slowly converted into its Infected minions.
Living in a place like the Bubbling Bog, bringing to fire to bear against it is difficult, as most everything is damp. These trees are often of the massive variety, and almost always bear scars of the axe upon its bark, having healed over and thickened with the husks of its rotted minions.
Gallow Infected
Any living man or lizardfolk taken by the seeds of the Gallow Tree is transformed into a rabid infected that serves the accursed creature known as the Gallow Tree. These enslaved unfortunates show the signs of having stayed in the bog for a period of time, covered in moss and fungus, maggots eating away at their flesh, skin broken. A large hole in their abdomen reveals their innards are missing, having been used by the tree like rich fertilizer.
They have never responded to calls from those who knew them in life; though occasionally they are taken by a rage and attack the acquainted. These infected hang in the vines of the tree until living victims near, whereupon the unprepared prey are immediately killed and brought to the tree.
The Infected are stronger and faster than its former host, albeit lacking in sight and intelligence, relying on scent and sound to locate its prey. They always focus their efforts on single prey and bring it down as fast as they can, and will never retreat unless its mother tree is threatened. For all purposes, they do not stop until their bodies are completely destroyed, making them dangerous foes.
Serpentine River:
Devil Fish
These malefic purple creatures, in the likeness of multi-limbed serpents or fish and the size and weight of horses, are the bane of those who strive for a living upon the Serpentine River or its inhabitants. They are devious and cunning beasts, often ensnaring livestock upon the river banks to lure the foolish to their doom.
They all bear a superficial semblance to Baron Nashor, albeit on a thankfully smaller scale. The largest the Patrol has encountered, was ten feet from its longest tentacle to tip of its head, though there are occasionally bigger carcasses that wash ashore on the river banks.
I have personally slain three of these creatures with my fellows, and have lost a man on one occasion. If our hearing was true, and we all agreed we heard, these devil fish can speak in the tongue of men- to what extent their intellect extends, or what size they may grow, is a terrifying thing to ponder.
Howling Marsh:
Drowned Ones:
There are few undead as terrifying as the monstrosities known as Drowned Ones. Superficially they resemble the wet zombies that plague the Marsh, and indeed they keep a retinue of such minions to hide among, to lure would be undead slayers to join their ranks.
Once battle is joined, the nature of their unholy powers is made horrifically apparent: They seem to have a supernatural aura, a malicious ability that causes anyone of weak mental and bodily fortitude to literally feel like they are drowning. It is a sensation almost unexplainable- holding one’s breath does not even help. With their prey rendered quickly vulnerable, the zombies make short work of the victim.
To battle one in melee is to court one’s doom. Better to strike it at range, or flee, as they seem to have little interest from leaving their Marshy home.