Monsters Native to Farland

Table of Contents

Aldran Giant
Bazok
Burned Dead
Drasp
Drowned Dead
Gargoyle Render
Grimmen
Gulogut
Night Giant
Oluk Orc
Plaguesap Treant
Ravenous Zombie
Remnant
Roval ún
Spywing
Wolf Spider Abomination

Aldran Giant

The sharp eyes of Thalan the Shadow Walker scanned the horizon, roving carefully over the grassy field studded with the occasional tree, but he could see nothing. Satisfied, he motioned for his two elven companions to move forward. But by then it was too late: very tall but slender creatures appeared seemingly out of nowhere, their long spears and thick clubs at the ready. The elves were surrounded. Thalan knew right away that the new-comers were Aldran Giants, notoriously rare and unpredictable creatures. He only hoped that these specimens tended toward sympathy to the cause of the elves and not that of the Wintervale...

Aldran giants are tall and slender, with skin ranging from dark grey to light tan, and hair moss green to straw yellow. They are approximately ten feet tall and weigh around 400 to 500 pounds. Their name relates to the Elven word for nature.

Aldran Giants do not necessarily follow any single ethical bent, and while they are usually neutral, they can also be good or evil. Sages believe that these giants were in fact descended from fey that personified the open fields and rocks, and indeed Aldran giants possess noteworthy magical powers as well as physical might. They generally live in remote fields near large trees or rock structures. They are most often spotted in the rolling plains of Zeland, though they have also been seen just south of the Belendale. Although they prefer sleeping in the open and have little care for furnishings, Aldran giants have at least one large box, barrel, chest, or similar container in which they store their valuables. This item is always loosely concealed (Wisdom [Perception] check DC 10 to find) and is often trapped.

Bazok (Orc-Troll)

Sir Tanarius gritted his teeth and grasped his pike tighter. He had sworn he would guard the hidden approach to the Borderhold at all costs, and he intended to do it. Plus, this attack on the fort guarding the approach was not entirely unexpected: the Far Knight scouts had warned them of the approaching orc band with ample time to spare. Having caught his breath, the knight stepped back up to the shield wall and, with an expert flick of the wrist, speared an on-rushing orc with little effort. Was this the best the Wintervale could do? Suddenly his eyes widened as he caught sight of a large force of tall, warty, muscular orc-beasts, really more trolls than orcs. Bazoks! Fiercer than any orc, and much more numerous than the dreaded trolls. The beasts tossed the smaller orcs aside like twigs as they approached the defenders, and Tanarius barely managed to duck behind the shield wall as the gigantic creatures opened their assault by casting their wicked spears. Perhaps it was time to retreat to a more defensible position, he thought desperately.

A cross between the largest Oluks and trolls, Bazoks look like gigantic (7 1/2 foot tall) orcs with thick muscles and green, warty skin. They only obey oluk orcs, whom they have been taught since birth to respect, and will destroy any other humanoid that annoys them if oluks are not present to restrain them. They even hate trolls, although they fear them. They have no culture and are generally kept locked in pens between fights. Bazoks are smart enough to resent this.

Burned Dead

A faint glow emanated from behind the small copse of trees, clearly visibly to even Darion's not-particularly-sharp eyes. Years praying in a dim temple had done nothing to improve them. "A camp fire? Out here?" he asked the mage Karin, although his question was really directed more to himself. Ever inquisitive, especially when a situation might involve the acquisition of knowledge or money, Karin replied, "What are we waiting for? Let's check it out." She strode forward, prompting Darion to jog to keep up. The cleric watched as Karin rounded the edge of the trees, stopped abruptly, and backed away. Too late. The glow brightened as a shambling corpse, charred black as if from a fire, emerged from the thicket and made a beeline straight for them. An infernal gleam leaked from beneath the cracked skin covering its torso. "Wha... what is that?" gasped the mage. "Burned Dead, I believe," said Darion, surprising himself with how calm his voice sounded. "Now I suggest we retreat."

Burned Dead are created when a humanoid burns to death in an area tainted by foul magic, or when an exceptionally evil humanoid dies by fire. They appear as charred corpses, and a hint of the fire that still burns within them can be seen in the lurid glow that shines forth from under the cracked skin of their hands and chest. Their sole desire is to inflict their suffering on living beings, and they have a blasphemous ability to sense life in a vicinity around them.

It is nearly impossible to predict where Burned Dead will appear, although fires that immolate large swaths of cities often produce one or two of these cursed creatures. They are invariably dreaded, because a simple touch from their blackened hands will light a victim on fire.

Drasp

Gogdor paused, relief registering in his limited brain. He had managed to slip away from the ambush when the cursed dark elves had slain his brothers, and his years in the Dark Deeps had taught him the skills he needed to disguise his trail so that even those cursed, sharp-eyed drow could not track him. His yellowed, broken fangs jutted out as he smiled, gloating at his escape. Now, where was he? The orc's musings were cut short, however, by the sound of scales rasping on rock as something... nightmarish slithered from the side tunnel. It was a terrifying thing, with the lower body of a serpent and the head of a feral drow elf. As the creature swayed toward him, Gogdor could feel his sanity slipping away...

Drasps are horrid abominations with the upper bodies of drow elves and the lower bodies of giant snakes. Their drow features are bloated and twisted, and their speech is distorted by dripping fangs, although they speak Mordularian, a dialect of Dark Speech, and Undercommon. They are formed when their dark goddess notices and chooses to test an above average drow who has reached mid-level; failing such a test means becoming a drasp.

Drowned Dead

The spraying waves slashed Aidan's eyes like knives. The paladin squinted into the storm, bracing his legs against the heaving deck. "We'll be lucky to weather this storm in one piece!" he bellowed to the hard-eyed halfling maiden who clung to the rail nearby, but he wasn't sure if she could hear him over the storm. Still, he tried to continue the conversation, as much for his benefit as hers. "But with the grace of Reeanan on our...." His words trailed off as he watched a pair of sickly, bloated hands appear out of the waves and grasp the railing. The green hands were as waterlogged as the bottom of the ocean from which they came. As the horrid undead thing pulled itself onto the deck, its jaws dropped open and a torrent of brackish water poured from the gaping hole that had been its mouth. "Drowned Dead!" screamed the paladin, fear rising within him. "The storm is the least of our problems...."

Drowned Dead are undead creatures sometimes created when pirates or other evil humanoids perish at sea. Certain areas of the ocean may harbor powerful malevolent beings or dark magic that make them unholy; drowning in such an area is almost certain to result in one becoming a drowned dead. But whether a victim of drowning will become an undead or not is unpredictable; sometimes evil sailors drown and do not become one of the undead abominations, and other times blameless mariners die in normal, open water and come back as Drowned Dead.

The foul creatures can be found in most large bodies of water, although thankfully, they aren't common. They are incredibly feared, however, for they attack living beings viciously, and a mere touch from these abominations can bring about a horrible death, as the victim's lungs fill with water.

Gargoyle Render

Salazar was none too happy about being on dry land. "Arrr, all these buildings towering overhead. Can barely see the sun, much less find me way to an inn. And what are those hulking, ugly statues, all covered in spines? Blimey, why is one moving?" He couldn't get his sword out fast enough as the huge stone monstrosity glided down from the ledge of the cathedral, surprisingly floating on air with no more difficulty than a feather. "Looks like I'll be earning that ale," murmured the young pirate.

Gargoyles are creatures summoned from the maelstrom and personified as ugly creatures made of stone. Legends say that demons summoned the first gargoyles, but evil mages have always made use of the terrible guardians. Gargoyles perch on ledges or stand in statue-like poses, motionless for days or weeks, simply waiting for prey to come so that they can wreak havoc upon it.

Gargoyle renders are just like their lesser brethren but worse. Their skin is equally difficult to penetrate, and they are larger, stronger, and uglier, towering some eight or nine feet tall; since they are made of stone they weigh more than half a ton. They always have spines jutting from their backs as if they were carved by some insane artist. Also like their lesser brothers, they want nothing more than to ruin and kill... preferably filling their enemies with spines in the process. When they shoot their spines, the barbs tend to grow back within minutes.

Grimmen

The Slayer knelt down and examined the dead body closely, looking especially at the teeth marks and the large white patches that surrounded them. He mused on the story of the villagers-- having met a creature they described as yellow-skinned, shifty eyed, cloaked. It had been slain, dispatched after a difficult fight, the villagers said. That had been several days ago. Yet a few nights later those villagers involved in the fight had begun disappearing one by one, their bodies nowhere to be found. Last night the last villager had been slain, but this time someone had stumbled upon the scene, frightening off the shifty-eyed, cloaked creature that this time smelled of death. Thus the Slayer was able to examine the body, and there was no question in his mind-- they were dealing with a Grimmen. He cursed silently.

Grimmen resemble thin humanoids with pale skin, grayish hair, fanged, sharp teeth, and sulphur-yellow eyes. Legends said that they were summoned ages ago by the Dweller itself to manipulate and wreak havoc in human societies.

Grimmen are a race of fiend-like creatures that prefer to mingle and dwell among humanoids. By blending in amongst them they can usually do more damage and gain more trust to betray them. They possess magical powers that aid them in deceit and battle, and they possess a unique ability to rise from the grave when slain in combat.

Gulogut

Brokk counted off the minutes in his head, giving Cawlis as much time as they had deemed necessary to get into position. Then he gave the signal and followed Aidan and Isolde as they moved around the last bend. As he turned the corner, he gathered his energies and spoke a short incantation, gesturing in the general direction of the ceiling. A sphere of light burst into existence, illuminating the contents of the cavern and, more importantly, the monstrosity waiting in the pit at its heart. All three adventurers immediately bit back cries of disgust. A dozen bloated, suppurating eyes sitting in pairs atop six snake-like heads swiveled to look at the trio, the bulbous mass to which they were attached heaving itself about in indescribable filth. The creature almost looked like some sort of hydra or dragon-thing, but it had two hideous appendages sprouting from its flanks. It was the stuff of nightmares. Corpses of all kinds lay about it in various states of decay, channels carved into the floor directing the liquid putrefaction into the pit. Worse, Brokk felt sucker-tipped fingers prying at his thoughts, transmitting foul images into his mind....

A rare hybrid monstrosity long believed extinct, much to the relief of even the most stalwart of monster hunters, the gulogut was recently spotted again in the western reaches of Daven, the ghastly result of breeding between a hydra and an otyugh. Gulogut means "filth-hungerer" in Mordularian, the dark language of the drow elves, who first encountered the creature (or perhaps who first bred it).

Unlike true hydras, these creatures will readily devour plant life, although they do prefer softer meats, ideally bloated and rotten. A gulogut is six thousand pounds of muscle and hunger, covered with a layer of slime nearly a foot thick and a pair of grasping tentacles on its flanks similar to those of its otyugh parent. Also unlike true hydras, their ability to regenerate heads is significantly more limited, thankfully.

Guloguts are not known for subtlety. They will move through a forested area, snapping down bushes and saplings with their six heads, whilst snatching at mobile prey with their tentacles. When dealing with prey that can fight back, a gulogut will typically seek to crush it beneath its body, smothering it in putrescence, or slam it against rocks or trees, or simply bite it to death with its sharp fangs.

Night Giant

Being new to Old Cadez, the orcs did not realise their mistake in refusing to share their plaything with the strange giant that had heard the miserable cries. The crowd, originally gathered to witness the punishment of one who defied a direct order from an oluk, now steeled themselves for the screams that came as the sphere of utter, impenetrable blackness rose up around the foolish dark folk. One of them broke free and was promptly hurled back into it by the crowd. They knew well that angering a noctician was far worse than upsetting a few petty orcs...

Night giants, also known as nocticians, are one of the rarest servants of the Wintervale in the Occupied Kingdoms but also one of the most feared, for even the other dark folk tread warily around them. The vast majority live in the exhausted copper mines just west of the city of Old Cadez in Orland, which have been greatly expanded so as to be suitably habitable for them. A typical noctician stands about 15 feet tall and can weigh upwards of 4,500 pounds, with a thick leathery skin the color of starless night. Unlike many giants, nocticians shave their heads with almost religious dedication, exposing bony ridges along their skull that are nearly as good as an actual helmet for protection.

Though unknown on the continent of Farland, there are female night giants who dwell almost exclusively in the Wintervale itself or in the westernmost parts of Yrrkune. They are usually both a foot or two taller than the males and heavier by multiple hundred pounds, and their greater size is seen by the males as particularly alluring. Since only 1 in 10 nocticians are female, and they mate for life, they are extremely selective about their mates, and competition among the males to be chosen has a tendency to end in bloodshed. Male night giants are CR 8, with 11 hit dice and a -1 to skills and attack rolls compared to female Night Giants, given below.

Oluk Orc

The Woodsman smiled as he traced the spore of the orc band. "A few orcs, probably looking for some easy pickings. This should be short work," he murmured to himself. As he cleared the trees, the motley band of orcs came into view. But as the ranger nocked an arrow, something else caught his sharp gaze. On the other side of the creatures was a taller orc. This beast was not stooped like the others, and even if they had stood upright, he would have towered over them by more than a head. The gray skin clinched it. "Damn," he cursed. "An oluk! This won't be as easy as I thought."

Oluks are smarter and stronger than their lesser brethren, serving as captains in orcish armies and leaders in orcish societies. These great orcs are much more homogenous in appearance than normal orcs: they usually have black or gray skin, small fangs, and an upright appearance. Oluks are not bothered by sunlight. They are fierce fighters and sometimes even become clerics and spell casters. An adult male oluk orc is 6 to 6 and a half feet tall and weighs about 200 to 225 pounds. Females are slightly smaller.

The language an orc speaks varies slightly from tribe to tribe, but any orc is understandable by someone else who speaks Dark Speech. Some oluk orcs know a human language or other dialects of Dark Speech as well.

Plaguesap Treant

Balthinal of House Neldiril stopped suddenly, one hand going to the hilt of his elven longsword. Though he had made less sound than a leaf on the breeze as he passed through the forest, he yet got the impression that something was watching him... something nearby. The druid scanned the tree line, his sharp elven eyes alert for any sign of danger. All he saw was the twisted trees of the dark wood that he was traversing. He had been tempted to go around, but since when had an elven druid been deterred by a forest, even one filled with such blighted trees as this? After all, blighted or not, they were still trees, agelong friends of the elven race. Suddenly just behind his left shoulder, one of those twisted trees moved! He whirled to behold a hideous, diseased tree actually lurching toward him, stinking sap leaking from its diseased boughs. He began to reach inside himself to summon the power to change his form into that of a great wolf, but then he hesitated. Something told him sinking teeth into that pestilent thing might not be the wisest plan...

Some dark power, perhaps one of the Lords of Sin, long ago began blasphemous experiments using captured treants, pouring infusions of dark energies into their unfortunate trunks and subjecting them to diseases both horrible and malignant. The abominations that resulted from these experiments were visibly different from their pure treant cousins elsewhere in the world, as twisted and blasted as the heart of the dark lord that spawned them. This evil power then released the blighted treants into the world.

Though few in number, the plaguesap treants are difficult to eradicate. Wherever they go, their diseased touch turns plants into more plaguesap treants. These diseased trees are also a grave threat to other creatures, for they seem to take pleasure in exterminating all life that they find in their way.

Ravenous Zombie

Garus tossed the small coin purse into the air and caught it, smiling to himself. This next job should be a breeze, he thought. Just a few zombies in the local hamlet, nothing he hadn't faced before. They could take a hit, but they were slow and clumsy, and any warrior worth his salt should be able to dispatch them with little issue.

But when he rounded the corner, his brows rose in confusion. Was that zombie... eating... that villager? And why was the obviously dead villager starting to move?

Ravenous zombies look like normal zombies to the untrained eye, but they are far more dangerous, for they hunger for living flesh. Though they lack a functioning digestive system, they will bite and devour as much flesh as they can, often until their guts are swollen and distended. When their prey dies, though, they lose interest, because they do not eat dead meat. But the real danger is the contagion they spread, for those bitten by ravenous zombies slowly sicken and die... and then rise again to seek the flesh of the living.

Remnant

Sarra looked around warily as she entered the tomb. Her torch guttered in a subterranean breeze, casting dancing shadows on the wall. "Something about this place... those shadows... this tomb is thick with memories," she whispered to herself. Fragments and remnants of half forgotten retrospections rose to her mind unbidden. Immediately and inexplicably her mind wandered back to her most painful moment, the day she was torn from her mother's arms as the orcs took her mother away to work in the salt mines. Before she knew it, the tears were streaming down her face, and the pain was almost palpable. Almost palpable... then she saw the shadowy wraith-like figure in the recesses of the mausoleum, and the pain from her memories became completely palpable...

Remnants, or memory wraiths as they are also called, are formed when a creature dies but its traumatic memories won't let it rest. A Remnant looks like a shadowy ghost that still bears some of the features it had in life, although it can never quite be seen clearly. It takes unholy pleasure in draining memory from its victims and replacing them with its own terrible, painful recollections.

Roval ún

Payn scanned the approaching line of the orc army. Though the force the ranger led was barely half the size of the dark folk army, the ranger wasn't worried. His men were seasoned warriors, plus they had the terrain on their side. A small but deep river separated the two armies, and the stupid orcs seemed intent on marching right up to the edge, well within bowshot of his expert archers. Very well, then, let the foolish dark folk throw their lives away, he thought. It will make this even easier. But as the enemy approached the river, their ranks split, and from the new rent in their line dashed a small strike force of vaguely insectile creatures. Wings fluttered on their back, blurring with the speed of their flapping, and the sun glinted from the edge of their chitinous claws. The creatures ran right up to and then right across the river! "What in Malor...!" yelled Payn. "Form ranks!" Now across the water, the creatures dashed towards them with sickening speed. He only hoped his line would come together in time to meet their charge....

Roval ún, named by the dwarves who first spotted them, are giant insectoid creatures that in distant ages past soared the skies in northern Eruna and the southern Grand Peaks. Enemies and prey of the Thri-Kreen, they were hunted to near extinction, leaving only the largest and strongest specimens. This caused something of a forced evolution, for the ones that survived were big and fierce, and had abnormally long claws, allowing them to to fight off the hunters. These creatures bred, increasing the size of the race as a whole and ending the predation of the Thri-Kreen, but at the cost of their flight, for their bodies were now too large and heavy for their wings to bear them aloft. Still, their wings and strong legs provide them with incredible speed, especially when dashing past their enemies, and their curved claws can quickly cut up a soft target.

Recently, evil warlords among the dark folk have begun to use them as soldiers, paying them with food and shiny objects, which they find fascinating. In this capacity, they serve as excellent shock troops, their wings even allowing them to dash across short distances of water to surprise their enemies or dart past their front lines. They are still not a numerous race, though, and their use in war is driving them once more toward extinction.

Spywing

As it became apparent that the wispy, dark shape was not a cloud, Glorin Deephammer's eyes narrowed in worry. "Quick, dwarves, take cover!" he barked, diving for a rock outcropping, and wrapping his dark cloak about him. "Ready your crossbows. These foul beasts are the eyes of our enemy. If we don't take them all down, our quest is lost." He cocked his own trusty piece, and as the small flying lizards swooped down over the remnants of their campfire, he released a bolt that skewered one of them. As it crashed to the ground, he heard the twang of his companion's bows, and several other lizards plummeted from the air. The remaining creatures, with raucous cries, turned suddenly in the air and headed back to the north. The Dwarves eyed each other with apprehension. "The Dragon knows we are coming," intoned Glorin. "It is time we turned back; this scouting mission to Wawmar will have to wait."

Spywings look like a cross between tiny, deformed red dragons and common lizards. They were created by the draconic Lord of Greed to be his spies and scouts in the wastelands around his kingdoms, as well as the vast caverns within his home of Wawmar. They have since appeared in the service of other Lords of Sin as well. They are nearly perfect spies. A Spywing's body is about 1 foot long, with a wingspan of about 2 feet. They weigh about 1 pound.

Wolf Spider Abomination

His breath came in quick panting gasps, revealing the terror that clutched his heart like a cold hand. Batair knew he was a doomed man--any slave that killed an Orcish Hoth would be--but as he had left Thetak and fled North towards the Great River, he had entertained hopes that he would be able to make it. It would be a long, arduous journey to the liberated kingdom of Kelerak-over 100 miles-but a man with hope in his heart could overcome almost any hardship to be free. But then he had heard the gurgling howls, and all hope died. That meant the Hounds were on his track, and with them always came those scuttling, monstrous horrors they called Slave Hunters. The thought made him shudder uncontrollably. Still, what could he do but push on, forcing himself to put one foot in front of the next? Suddenly, however, even that became impossible: he had stumbled into a nearly invisible mesh of webbing covering the ground! The abominations with their accursed speed had gotten in front of him. He began to struggle frantically, hacking at the webbing with the Hoth's stolen scimitar. No good. Motion from the trees to his left caught his eye, and out of the shadows clambered one of the beasts, moving easily over its web. It had the huge, bloated body of a spider but a ferocious wolf-head replaced the insectile head one expected. The wolf-jaws of the beast opened in slavering anticipation as it leaped towards him, and the sword dropped from his nerveless grasp...

Created in the deep delvings and hideous pits below the palace of the Lord of Envy in Orland City, these abominations against nature are the result of crossing a dire wolf with a monstrously large hunting spider. The Drow Lord, jealous of any freedom and desiring to maintain an iron grasp over his populace, gave these horrors to his special ranger contingent, the Hounds. The primary use of the Blood Hounds is to hunt slaves attempting to escape from the kingdom of Orland, and these new creatures were particularly suited to this purpose. They are trainable to a certain extent, and their quick speed, debilitating poison, and lethal cunning make them perfect servants to the Hounds. Thus these creatures are also called Slave Hunters, and a pack of them are often unleashed upon the trail of a troublesome slave, leaving their Hound masters to follow along behind and collect the helpless victim-if the Wolf Spider Abominations have restrained themselves from eating him. Wolf Spiders Abominations are 10 feet long and weigh 1000 pounds. They have the body of a large spider, albeit covered with a shaggy gray or black hair, but they have the heads of dire wolves. A green ichor drips from their slavering jaws, and perhaps most horribly, their eyes, set in their wolfs' heads, are those of spiders.