"You want to hunt lurkers? All right, then there's a few things you should know. First, they don't just live in caves. Some of the locals call them "cave lurkers," but I've seen them in the wastelands, in the marshes... really anywhere you think creatures shouldn't be able to live. Why? Because they eat almost anything and they eat rarely. When they're not hunting, they curl up in a sort of hibernation to conserve energy. If you can catch them in that state, consider yourself lucky. If not, you'll need to be on your toes. They're quiet when they want to be, you see. Hence the "lurk" part of their name. They hunt in packs. They spit poison. In fact, I've lost more than one fellow because a group of lurkers descended upon him while he took a piss in the bushes. They surround him, paralyze him, and then tear him to pieces—all without the rest of the camp knowing a single thing was going on, not twenty feet away."
—From The Most Dangerous Things To Eat by Pol Ageire Phridee
|Crafting Materials:||Craggy Skin|
Mabari war hounds are a breed of dogs magically bred by the Formari. Hostile mabaris can be found throughout the Storm Coast. A lone mabari can be found in the Canyon in the Hissing Wastes, guarding the shop of its owner.
|Location:||Hissing Wastes, The Hinterlands, Storm Coast|
|Crafting Materials:||Canine Leather|
Nugs are passive enemies in multiple locations, whose hides can be used in crafting. They are small, hairless, nearly blind creatures with pointed snouts for digging. They resemble a cross between a rabbit and a pig, or a naked mole rat or an aardvark.
|Location:||Crestwood, Emerald Graves, Exalted Plains, Frostback Mountains Forbidden Oasis, The Hinterlands, Storm Coast|
Orlesians believe the phoenix to be a herald of woe, perhaps because the creatures frequent inhospitable places where sane travelers fear to tread. It may also be because they belch a sort of sulfurous gas that reeks of rotten eggs and ancient peat bog, and flocks of the beasts have a pervasive odor of death about them. Orlesians are not always so metaphorical as they like us to believe.
— From In Pursuit of Knowledge: Travels of a Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi
|Location:||The Western Approach|
|Crafting Materials:||Pheonix Scales|
A sound from above, then legs, fangs, and poison. I do not know the number—less than my nightmares bear, but still too many. Only quick fires from our Circle apprentice allowed us to retreat. But not all. Several of our numbers were paralyzed in the instant, as must have been the case for many before. When I close my eyes, I see them—new recruits to that silent army, frozen in “praise” of a moving ceiling, waiting to be hollowed.
— Excepted from We Need Not Demons: Our Dangerous World, A Collection of Natural Horrors and Wonders, edited by Philliam, a bard
|Location:||Crestwood, Hissing Wastes, Revenant Church, Western Approach|
|Crafting Materials:||Poison Spider Glands|
“Its hooked beak describes a smile that makes mock of the laws of man and Maker, and in the sagging folds of its rough and squamous hide lies no elegant simplicity. But look upon its dorsal ridge for the proof, if logic be your refuge, for in the ebon spines that jut uncaringly from its back, no man of learning can fail to see the cold and twisted spires of the Black City itself. What Maker would give mock to our ebullient transgressions by marking his domicile into the flesh of this repugnant eater of flesh, this scavenger of wastes and deserts?”
— From An Anatomie of Various Terrible Beasts, by Baron Havard-Pierre D’Amortisan