A common pest near cities and towns, black rats such as this one often find their ways into homes and grain storage to make a mess of things.

Normally a shy and rather docile tundra creature, the ermines in this area have been taken over by murderous intent. At first this may seem a ridiculous threat, until one realizes that being slaughtered by a pack of crazed ermines ranks up there with such ignoble deaths as drowning in a vat of butter. Something magical in this area is driving these little white furies insane.

Every desert traveler's nightmare is to find a scorpion within their bedroll. The dire scorpion is a nightmare made real terror, for it dwarfs its normal sized kin. Though known for catching lizards and the occasional large rodent, this scorpion is not above snipping a chunk of flesh from a man-sized foe with its eight inch long claws.

Practically otherworldly with their twisted mockeries of life, dybbuks infest the upper regions of the Southmount. Such are their numbers that the smaller welps are pushed over the cliffs. Those that survive the fall do not live for long, as they prove easy prey for hunters brave enough to face these foothills.

Notable for their excessively large teeth and grey-green colouring, the forest rat is not unlike its city-dwelling brethren. A hideous and potentially rabid pest, the best thing a magus could do is stomp it out of existance with his or her golem.

Though commonly referred to as weasels, these ferocious little things are more obscure in their heritage. Beneath bristly white fur is the glimpse of ruddy brown scales of reptilian likeness, and its eyes reveal a rage that is normally born of sentience. Yet these foul weasel things appear to lack entirely in intelligence; or rather if they do have conscious thoughts, they are well buried within a furious insanity.

One of the least intelligent of the kobold species, midget kobolds seem incapable of fashioning even basic weapons. Other kobold races press them into service as slaves or labourers. When not guided by other kobolds, these runts tend to suicidally throw themselves against just about any foe, armed only with dirty fingernails, as if they wished for death.

Small horrors that seem as much a random assortment of limbs as a fae, the mountain welkin has been known to descend from above with murderous screams.

Small and hideously opportunistic, mud hounds hunt the fringes of The Zaulfung for easy prey. They're not smart by any means, so what a mud hound considers 'easy prey' might be a squirrel, a stump, or a fully armed iron golem. There's just no telling.

Not nearly as large as the more notorious beasts of its ilk, the pygmy leucrotta bears an ugly badger's head and the hindlegs of a small deer. It yelps in cryptic human-like phrases, parroting words overheard from previous victims. Luckily, not as much of a threat as its more massive cousins, though it can be deadly in a pack.

Weaker than any other dybbuk species, the red variety tend to be more stable and often boast a pair or two of antlers and a mere five to six eyes. Their teeth are every bit as deadly as the more horrific dybbuk sorts, but are fortunately locked in an awkward set of jaws.

About the size and shape of a monkey, no one can say for certain what stock scavenger ghouls were when they were alive. Whatever awful method it is that their numbers increase by, they aren't sharing. What they do willingly impart are painful cries, mad gnashing of teeth, and trembling twitches of outstretched claws.

Who can guess whether a foul necromancer has been practicing his dark art on plentiful rat corpses or if the Cairnfields are naturally so repugnant that the dead can not lay still, but in any case skeletal rats seem unendingly numerous. Hideously silent but for the clattering of bone on bone, they'll swarm their target and reduce it to skeletal remains if you'll let them.

Testy and aggressive, swamp hogs fill the wetlands of The Zaulfung. They are not magical beasts, not tormented by alchemy, nor horrors from beyond the mountain barriers. No, it is mother nature alone that is to be blamed for their horrible dispositions

No one is quite sure if the alchemists and their magic are responsible for the walking mushrooms of the Ironwood. If not for their high pitched wails, they would be little threat since their crude limbs are soft and spongey. Sadly, the Ironwood often echoes with the sonic attacks of ambulatory mushrooms.

The group that call themselves the Black Stone range from the merely ne'er-do-wells to those who are outright sociopathic individuals. Many of the more disturbed individuals have taken to lying in wait in the deserts, looking to rob caravans and traders of everything precious. Since these encounters often end in the death of the merchant, few would cry if the raiders were beaten to a pulp by some magus' golems.

Packs of normal wolves are often seen in the northern regions, but more common in the Cairnfields are groups of their animated skeletons. These boney mockeries of life silently stalk the tundra, dragging down prey and feasting upon it, only to have their meals drop in bite-sized chunks through empty ribs.

Crafted in another age, dwarves assembled from bronze and iron still roam Old Forge Mountain. Likely these constructs were once used to peacefully mine for precious ore, but their behaviour is now erratic and dangerous from the passage of time. They seem capable of reassembly once destroyed, so perhaps these small golems shall outlive all modern magi as they did their original masters.

A strange malady infects goblins of various breeds on occasion, clogging up their skin with patches of tiny mushrooms. In addition to its repulsive modifications to the goblins' appearance, it also debilitates their small minds. Goblins with this sickness tend to stand around drooling until movement catches their bulging eyes and they attack.

While intelligent men become craftsmen, mages, or even respected leaders, those goblins that pass for intelligent tend to turn to lives of crime. Often these foul little creatures will shout out an ultimatum (failing to realize that few speak goblinese), quickly grow frustrated, and then rush in to attack with crude weapons. In the end, the only thing that distinguishes a goblin bandit is the black headband.

In places of great natural power, beings from other worlds tend to slip into the realm of Muelsfell. Sometimes these are ominous events, but most magi tend to accept small elementals as a fact of life and treat them as they would any wild and dangerous creature. Ice elementals are no exception.

From birth, each kobold is given a path, whether that be warrior, miner, or mage, and expected to excel (by kobold standards) in that profession. Those that take up the mantle of archer have been known to hit rather small targets and sometimes even remember to bring enough ammunition to last a entire battle. Usually these are murdered in their sleep out of jealousy, and their bows taken by less adept kobolds.

Firedrakes are brilliant red and orange spotted lizards that exhale small gouts of fiery breath. Not directly a result of alchemical experiments, it's been postulated that normal drakes acquired a flame affinity after drinking from poisoned lakes and became the first firedrakes.

Like ocean squid that fishermen sometimes bring back or find washed upon a shore, the rock squid has multiple tentacles and wide saucer-like eyes. The similarity ends there, however, for this is a beast from some other place and does just fine breathing air. Its grey rubbery skin is dusty rather than moist and slick, and seems capable of nesting in the most unsettling places.

In places of great natural power, beings from other worlds tend to slip into the realm of Muelsfell. Sometimes these are ominous events, but most magi tend to accept small elementals as a fact of life and treat them as they would any wild and dangerous creature. Rock elementals are no exception.

Infesting the Zaulfung in awful numbers, amphisbaena - commonly known as two-headed serpents - have long been rumoured to be related to the Cataclysm. Though no proof of such a connection can be found, their very nature seems to imply a magical origin. A favoured tactic of these bizarre and temperamental snakes is to wait in the trees and drop upon passing creatures.

Prized for their thick, woolly coats, these mastiffs are not the easiest to hunt. They tend to lurk in somewhat inaccessible areas of the mountains, though their considerable bites are not to be ignored.

Though predominately natural creatures, cougars have fallen victim to the alchemical disasters that sully the natural splendors of Kern. In exchange for the pain of scarred skin and flesh, they are all but immune to flame of any sort. Never predictable before, acid-borne cougars are as likely to flee as they are to vent their alchemical-induced pain on anything or anyone.

Coated in thick ice of a greenish tint, the frostwights are slightly less common than the snowfield wights. It's likely they are spawned from the same group of people as those lesser undead, but they give no further clues as to their shared origins. Sometimes the sun will glint just right through the frostwight's icy covering, however, hinting at bracelets and necklaces, rings and finery -- the attire of a nobleman.

Though much like the terrible little things that often scurry in the night, this spider is massive in size and could probably drag down a large dog or small pony.

Iridescent blues and green mottle the waxy shell of this tremendous roach, a visitor one would find most unwelcome in a wood or open field, nevermind the kitchen. Voracious and almost impossible to stamp out, the blight roaches might forever plaque magi the world over.

Drawn to death like buzzards, death scavenger beetles are massive insects around the size of a large dog. Normally they're merely annoying opportunists, but feeding on the undead has caused them to be more aggressive toward living prey. Some researches feel that the corrupting energies of the undead here in western Muelsfell are especially virulent and will continue to have unexpected effects on local fauna and flora.

Generally thought of as 'touched' even by their fellows, some kobolds decide to wear strips of black clothing and use exotic weapons like nunchuku. Despite taking the influence of certain human cultures too far, they can sometimes prove surprisingly adept in combat.

Stitched, sewn, and wrapped in leather bandages, the zombified alligators are no native to the area of Graynsfell Ruins. Someone cared for them, doted on them, and then released them into the wild for reasons and purposes disguised. Needing not for water, the alligators are a menace to would-be salvagers in the woodlands. Though perished, they seem to retain some hint of their prior lives, being often found drying like slabs of spoiled meat upon the hot copper surfaces of wartime wreckage.

Wrapped in funerary dressings with bits of archaic jewelry visible underneath, the dust mummy is an unsubtle combatant. Many an unfortunate caravan has encountered one of these simple-minded undead and been forced to flee while the monster vents its fury upon a single wagon and team of horses left behind. It's unclear which is more unsettling -- the coarse cry of a mummy somewhere out in the desert or the silent, sand-coated remains of a ruined wagon and slain horses.

An ambush predator if ever there was one, the six-eyed lurker waits out of sight until prey nears, then launches itself forward in a stunningly swift attack.

There have been tales since before the Cataclysm of intelligent spellcasting snakes known as Nauga. None have ever been spotted alive or dead. An all too real alternative are the beastial things known as the draconauga, a half-breed combination of massive serpent and crocodilian jaws, but lacking any intellect or magic. Living fossils from another age, they tend to nest in ruins and feed on monkeys.

Legends speak of an ancient, sprawling empire that once ruled all of Askari and enslaved all manner of foul monster. Though silent, animated remains offer tantalizing clues to the truth: undead trolls, their slave collars still worn, prowl the sands eternal.

Foul and brutish, a variety of troll dwells in the wetlands of southern Kern and Dimitra. They are unsubtle creatures, simply charging up to prey and striking it as hard as they can with a large club. Rumours claim that they were once dominated by the armies of an ancient empire.

For as long as anyone can recall, the mountain giants were the undisputed rulers of the Southmount. Something unspeakable has been driving them down into the valleys, and even their matrons and womenfolk have taken to desperate raids and violent combat as a result.

In the eldest parts of the Necropolis prowl chthonic evils known as the runic bonewalkers. Whatever necromancer created these skeletal things was (or still is) a powerful being. His creations bear the detailed etchings of obscene magic and use massive flanged swords.