Aberrations

Gorvulax - The Otyugh

They worship it. The rats, the beggars, the ones with boils on their souls. They bring it offerings — teeth, tongues, dead dreams. And in return, it whispers to them beneath the city.

Iivex - The Spectator

There’s a room in the ruined asylum where mirrors scream and water bleeds sideways. They say something’s trapped there, watching — and if you meet its gaze, you remember things that never happened.

Thrylvox- The Death Slaad

He was once a man. That much we’re sure of. Then the skin cracked, and the teeth… there were too many. He spoke in backward prayers, and what he said… it’s still in my dreams.

Skivvlex - The Red Slaad

They didn’t just die. They split — like sacks of blood and teeth. I saw it happen to Davren. And the thing that came out of him was laughing.

Xelz'thar - The Grell

The archivists sealed off the lower stacks after the air started humming and books opened themselves. They say something’s still floating down there… something that remembers every mind it’s touched.

Kruel'shekt - The Chuul

If you find the ribcage-shaped stones near the tidepools, turn around. The marsh doesn’t end there — it sinks. And he waits beneath, like a promise forgotten by time.

Zirrxilos - The Flumph

There’s a presence in the caverns that hums when you're not listening. It doesn’t speak, not with words. But the sound in your bones? That’s it trying to warn you.

Velgarith - The Green Slaad

They say there's a talking tree that moves through the bogs at night. It doesn't walk — it waits. If you hear it whisper your name... it's already too late.

Kaathrix - The Blue Slaad

There’s a rhythm in the air... a thrum like breath beneath skin. They say if you stand too long near the Shatterfen Pools, your heartbeat starts to match it — and that’s when he finds you.

Beneath the obsidian spires of the Nevermoors, whispers speak of a tyrant who sees all. Xaltheris, a Beholder whose paranoia has turned the flooded caverns into a fortress of optical illusions and deadly traps, rules from a chamber whose walls are lined with petrified “traitors.”

Druun-Stillroot - The Roper

From the stone it watches—not with rage, but with purpose. The stalagmite was not there yesterday. Now it waits, tendrils twitching with hunger and something older still: memory.

Varnyx - The Nothic

In the cobwebbed archives beneath a shattered mage’s tower in Gloomshade, something watches. Varnyx is no mindless horror but a broken, whispering thing—once a master of divination, now a creature of single-minded obsession.