HP: 29
AC: 12
DR: 0
Attack: 1d8+1
A living mass of corrosive ooze that dissolves anything it touches. It reacts to movement and heat, sliding toward prey without thought or fear. Its acid quickly damages metal, burns flesh, and can ruin weapons and armor if they strike too deep. Chalk, mud, water, and milk can neutralize the acid.
HP: 21
AC: 14
DR: 0
Attack: 1d6+1
A kennel-drake that waits in shadow and snaps when a foot falters.
HP: 31
AC: 14
DR: 1
Attack: 1d10+2
A moth-winged trickster that knows when stances falter and presses them.
HP: 36
AC: 14
DR: 2
Attack: 1d10+2
A low-slung predator that hunts armor like it's got a personal vendetta against blacksmiths. It circles, probing for weak spots with those jagged teeth, then locks on and grinds. Doesn't matter how thick your plate is - this thing's patient enough to find where it buckles, and mean enough to make you regret every rivet […]
HP: 32
AC: 13
DR: 0
Attack: 1d4+1, 1d4+1
A slack-jawed eater that drools black venom and grins when knees buckle. This rotting scavenger shuffles forward with a perpetual grin plastered across its corpse-face, like it knows something you don't. What it knows is that you're about to smell it - and that reek alone will drop you to one knee. Then comes the […]
HP: 41
AC: 14
DR: 0
Attack: 1d4+1, 1d4+1
Mocks divine invocations with cackling disdain. Where lesser undead might falter at holy words, this creature grows more vicious, as if sacred songs feed its spite. It remembers enough of mortality to hate the living with calculated malice.
HP: 40
AC: 12
DR: 2
Attack: 1d10+2
A cruel forest witch wrapped in thorn and vine, her skin bark-gray and her hair full of briars. She lives where the woods grow thickest, luring wanderers off the path with a faint humming voice. When she attacks, the ground itself turns hostile - brambles lash at ankles, and her curse strikes like invisible thorns […]
HP: 43
AC: 14
DR: 0
Attack: 1d10+2
A silent killer formed of seawater and spite, able to wear the shape of those it drowns. Its skin shimmers with a thin film of brine, and its voice echoes like speech through water. When it strikes, its limbs lose shape - crashing and reforming as waves of flesh that drag prey toward unseen depths. […]
HP: 28
AC: 14
DR: 0
Attack: 1d8+2
A squat, copper-skinned dwarf with arms like cables and eyes dulled by the forge. Its weapon is a hooked pole meant for dragging prey back into reach, leaving trails of sparks when it strikes stone. Once it locks on, the Hookguard fights with grim patience, reeling its victims in until nothing moves but the chain.
