Halloween Monster Entries 2023

Contest Details

It's that time of year again! Time to send in your entries for this years Halloween Monster contest! This year's theme is Creepy Cryptids!

Tell Us...

What is the cryptid's name?
What does it look like?
Where can it be found?
Any other information you can think of! (Example: What it eats, if there are any legends about it, etc)

Prizes

You will be allowed 1 entry and will earn 3,000 gold for that entry. The winner will get 10,000 gold and their cryptid turned into an in-game mob!

Deadline

Hmails must be submitted to Meri, Valrae, Khitti & Kanna by October 20th at 11:59 PM.

Entries

Muddy Bog written by Juno

What is the cryptid's name?
- Muddy Bog
What does it look like?
- It looks like if you made mud into a sentient humanoid slime with half still a puddle, with glowing yellow eyes
Where can it be found?
- Near bogs that are close to villages
Any other information you can think of!
- There's a tale of muddy bogs that anyone can remember, it starts of where a young lady was walking through a bog to visit her family. She saw smoke coming from her house and rushed before noticing her house was set on fire. She noticed it was thieves who started this, and she wanted her revenge. She tracked down the thieves with her body becoming more and more bog like. Her form would be changed into a weird creature. Then the thieves would suddenly vanish for a few days and come to the station with big grins on their faces. Some mud would fall out of their nose and eyes. Suddenly afterwards the whole village would be with big grins. Though after awhile the village vanished and all that was left was broken bones that had acidic slime near them. No one knows what really happened there but they don't try to solve things. Though don't worry we won't kill you... just yet.

The Burrows Borrower written by Iintahquohae

What is the cryptid's name? There are several:
- The Burrows Borrower, Larket Lurker, Enchantment's Echo, Gualon's Goblin, the Sage Siren, Frostmaw's Fiend, Craughmoyle's Captive (a mining camp of dwarves claim they caught the creature and have it trapped in a mining shaft somewhere in Southern Craughmoyle, but refuse to let anybody close enough to look) the Kregus Keeper.

Nearly every name the creature is called is alliterative in nature. Folks in Cenril stopped calling it the Cenril Crawler after King Macon took the throne and just call it Macon's Mistake, implying it's either some nightmarish creature conjured up in the Magic Academy's laboratory or something more sinister.

What does it look like?
- The creature (Or creatures? Hunters and scholars alike can't decide if it is one creature or several of a strange, elusive species) is tall, bipedal, and humanoid, with a larger build, especially at its midsection. Eyewitness accounts are inconsistent on its height, but the general consensus is that the creature must be half giant at least with the majority of accounts claiming that it is at least eight feet tall. It is covered from head to toe in thick, matted fur that seems to change color based on witness accounts. Frostmaw locals insist it's a pale blue, or grey like dirty snow. Halflings in the Burrows say bright yellow or orange. Sage elves say green. Despite the fact that it seems to live outside, it looks relatively clean and hunters describe its scent as surprisingly pleasant. Woody and floral. Pixies in Enchantment claim they've seen the creature washing its arm fur in the Mystical Stream and upon realization that it was being watched, waved at the pixies and went right back to bathing itself. Its mouth comprises roughly half of its round face, and seems to be permanently set in a grin. No teeth are visible, but in all accounts, witnesses describe its tongue as bright red. With the abundance of fur, it's difficult to determine whether or not it possesses a nose. The creature has two eyes that are unnaturally large, apparently without eyelids. No one knows if the it can blink. If it weren't for their size, they might be misconstrued as human eyes with large blue irises.
Where can it be found?
- All over the continent of Lithrydel. No accounts of it exist on Rynvale Island as of yet, but few have gone out of their way to brave the wilderness and dragonlands to search for it. Avians report that it has not appeared in Schezerade so it is believed that the creature cannot fly.
Any other information you can think of!
- Each name given to the creature is in essence a descriptor of its known behavior.
- In the Burrows, halflings have seen it crawl into homes through their windows to borrow cooking utensils, only to return them good as new or better than before. As such, some refer to it as the Burrows Blessing rather than the Burrows Borrower.
- The Larket Lurker does just as the name describes. It...lurks. Mostly along the Vibrance River under the cover of night, facing the direction of any passing Larketian guards. It knows what you did. It knows what you all did. You will pay for the witches' plight-
- Enchantment is the first place anyone has ever heard the creature speak. The conversation wasn't especially productive, since everything the dryad that found it said was parroted back to her in a voice eerily identical to her own, hence the name Enchantment's Echo.
- The orc tribes in Gualon don't necessarily like the creature, but treat it more as a harmless, occasionally amusing nuisance when it pays a visit to their swamps. Apparently it understands the Goblin tongue fluently and speaks it strictly to the orc tribes rather than Orcish for no discernible reason, so rumors began that it is actually part goblin and not just part giant.
- Frost giants despise the Frostmaw Fiend because it plugs up fishing holes in Lake Frysta with large blocks of ice. No one knows how the creature does this without notice, but legend says that she's (Frost Giants specifically refer to the Frostmaw Fiend as female) in league with the frost sprites, and somehow they assist her.
- Sage's Siren refers to an incident in which the creature managed to get into Kelay Tavern unnoticed and according to both Mesthak and Nancy, put on an impromptu show with a traveling bard toting a lute. The audience remarked that the creature's voice was enthralling, though it's debatable whether or not the bard's magic influenced this or not. Some swear they hear it humming in the distance when walking along forest paths throughout the months of Mithrise and Kazarkh. Some suspect it spends it summers primarily in Sage for this reason.
- It isn't uncommon to find the Cenril Crawler crawling across the sand along the coast (at least until the war began), specifically in early morning hours in spring. This seems to be some strange grooming method, as after the creature crawls across the sand it shakes it out of its shaggy fur which leaves the fur shining via some unknown means. It's often near Daedria's shrine that this occurs, so maybe it's divinity at work? Most suspect it's magic and leave it at that on the rare chance that it's seen.
- Goblins in Kregus refuse to comment on what exactly 'Kregus Keeper' means. When pressed, most goblins will cackle, flutter their fingers in front of their mouths like wisps of the creature's hair, then go on their way.

The Ballyhoozle written by Fiadh

EXCERPTED FROM

Scholar Eladithas Ergella’s Encyclopedic Bestiary of Lithrydel’s Northern Fables, Gleaned from his travels through the mountain ranges of Xalious, the region now known as Frostmaw, and Kelay.

Published originally on the 1776th year of Kafzhash, Xalious
Translated by Provost Ky’Lyria Lightfoot, 2023rd year of Kafzhash

… Perhaps the most peculiar and more enduring legend among the serf villages outside of Xalious is that of the so-called “Bally Beast”. What might be the most telling of the terror that this imaginary creature has enduringly stricken in the hearts of these commonfolk is that it took a hefty sum of gold in order for a man to even utter the true name of this monster: Ballyhoozle.

The Ballyhoozle is said to have the body of a great wyrm and two back legs that resemble a lions, capable of stopping a man’s heart with a single look from it’s solitary eye (said to be the most foul and sickly yellow and not unlike that of a goats with a wide and rectangular-shaped pupil - though one must wonder how this detailed description has been passed through generations if a single look can strike a man dead), and wings that are said to be a great expanse of black - leathery and membranous. It has often been said that the “Bally Beast” can be identified by the foul odor it seems to excrete from its large and porous maw, described as both decaying flesh and sulfuric in nature. Other extraordinary abilities have also been reported, such as an ability to appear from dense fog, breathe a foul and black tar like substance that is capable of melting flesh from bone, and the strength of dragons.

Tales of the Ballyhoozle range wildly from region to region, with some claiming that it creates terror and mayhem by swooping over villages to devour livestock, small children, and sometimes even women who have ventured too far from fathers or husbands. Other areas, particularly those with a high population of Halflings, seem to regard the Ballyhoozle as a herald or omen, a benevolent creature that arrives to darken the skies as a warning of danger to come.

Researching archives, though scarce they may be in these rural and often highly illiterate areas, have uncovered a handful of newspaper articles that seemingly report sightings of Ballyhoozle in earnest. Comparing these dates with historical records of great turmoil surrounding the Halflings and small folk, this could be a clue as to how some of them have come to believe the Ballyhoozle is not a monster to be feared but instead a portened to disaster and great suffering.

Still, the legend of Ballyhoozle endures, passed from hearth to hearth with hushed whispers of dread, awe, scorn and sometimes the most peculiar adoration and respect, but no matter the home the one thing that remains constant with these simple folk is the utmost sincerity of belief. In fact, the higher the elevation of these humble villages, the more likely you will find doors and homes shuttering swiftly with the approaching sunset and even more who refuse to turn their eyes skyward without crossing their fingers above their temples in effort to ward away the evil eye of the “Bally Beast”.

Translator’s Notes

Scholar Ergella’s Encyclopedic Bestiary of Lithrydel’s Northern Fables, while filled with the hubris and pretentiousness that is telling of a High Elven look at the still developing world of the Xalious ranges, does contain a wealth of information regarding the superstition of the region. The only known original is preserved with great care in the great Mage’s Library, though it does seem that other copies of this short work have been translated and republished with several inaccuracies and mistranslations.

However, the most interesting detail of Lithrydel’s Northern Fables is not found within the haughty work itself but rather the details of its discovery. While Scholar Ergella seems to have intended on further work across Lithrydel, the entry of the “Bally Beast” was fated to be his last. His body was never recovered, the journal in which he recorded his work was found abandoned upon a narrow pass covered in blood and reeking of sulfur.

The Atrocious Fright written by Lefty

Many Darkiln tales drift up the trails to mar the paths in the night, but none are as ominous told by the anonymous, of the Shadow Gnome’s Atrocious Fright. Now, I dearly pray, though I cannot say whether this tale is true, but the man who passed on the tale was quite fearful and pale, an unhealthy and traumatized hue.

When he was small, he saw his dad fall after sipping his morning brew. When his mother mourned, the son felt quite torn between what he felt and what he knew. He covered his head and hid in his bed, for he knew that come the night… his mother would be at risk from another, the shadowed Atrocious Fright. It wanders the halls of Darkiln’s walls, or so the legends claim. No one is sure, save the hearts of the pure, how to avoid its ravenous aim. With limbs that stretch with a grasp and a wrench, into the guiltiest minds, the creature unearths, reshapes and gives birth to the worst thing it can find. Now a boy with no dad, more scared than he’s sad is too tasty for the Fright to pass up. Arm under the door, creeping cross the floor and finding a sinful brown cup. Yes, that’s what it needs to grow the seeds of a most inglorious feast. Time moves on, and the child grows calm believing himself to be safe. After many grief-stricken days, the mother changes her ways for her black garb had begun to chafe. The mother and son after a day of good fun sit down for a family dinner. The son holds the brown cup, and lifts his gaze up to his mother, the sinner. “What did your hands do, to my dear father’s brew?” the son asks his mother that night. “A few drops that kill?” his voice harsh and chill, luring back the Atrocious Fright. It watched and it waited as the mother was baited, exposed and tricked. For that’s how it feeds, by recounting dark deeds, to feed on the shame of the wicked. By possessing the son, the Fright can have fun. The mother won’t harm her child. The black creature sinks in, beneath clear youthful skin, and whispers more of the mother’s crimes. Theft, murder, and greed, unforgivable deeds repeated a dozen times. It confirms the boy’s fears and his eyes fill with tears, as all of the sins come to light. The mother grows pale, her face sunken and frail. She cannot escape her plight. Her guilt uncontested, she’s easily bested by the creature that feeds on her sin, but once she’s devoured, the son’s stomach turns sour and he ejects the Fright from within. The boy runs to the surface, feeling quite worthless, away from the treacherous depths. For if he was truthful, despite being youthful, he’d handed his father his death.

The unnamed nomad, now grown from a lad didn’t stay to give further detail. He sprinted into the night, still on the run from the Fright he’d no doubt was still on his trail. Here my recounting would end, if not for his lost friend who arrived but an hour behind. She carried quite snug at her side a brown mug, and her bearing was naught but most kind. “Where he went, I can’t say, but I think ‘twas that way.” And I pointed out into the night. She snarled and charged (on legs much too large), and that’s the Atrocious Fright.

The Ananasa written by Quintessa

In the very depths of our nightmares, in the sleepless hours where our minds struggle to make sense of the encroaching darkness, where things exist which should not ever exist. Shapeless things, with a thousand eyes and even more legs, crawling, creeping from our tortured slumber to terrorize the waking world. One such creature that should have remained in the abyss of our nightmares is the Ananasa, the proclaimed orphaned child of the Weaver in the Sky, a being so twisted and corrupted that the material world struggles to give it a form. Some claim that it appears as a massive arachnid, resembling other giant spiders but noticeably off, something primal in the back of your mind telling you to be wary. Others claim that the Ananasa is instead a swarm of much smaller spiders, moving together to form some sort of hivemind, a colossal wave of toxic predators acting as one. Those who have claimed to have encountered the Ananasa, however, say these explanations do not do the creature justice. They say that the Ananasa has no true form, that it is a shapeshifter, a werespider able to transform into many different shapes to escape prying eyes. It becomes something almost humanoid, enough that people don’t pay attention, enough that it can slip by unnoticed as it continues to prey on the unsuspecting. Half-human, half-spider it catches you alone, traps you in its web, and carries you off never to be seen again… But don’t let these stories keep you up at night. Contemporary scholars dismiss the reports of the Ananasa as mere myth. Alas, no documented sightings of the monster have ever been verified, and any evidence relating to it has been circumstantial at best. Comforting lies, the so-called experts, the cryptozoologists will tell you, comforts that will do nothing to save you if the Ananasa decides to visit you tonight.

The Pallid Parasite written by Khitti

Deep within the areas of basements that most people fear to tread lurks a being quite unlike any other. The Pallid Leech, at times, looks like a person, but other times it may look like a pile of blankets and pillows, leaving regular folk to wonder why there's a pile of blankets and pillows in the corner of the basement because surely they didn't leave them there? Most would shrug it off, but those that try to investigate further will be met with a meek voice that says "Please don't perceive me." before it shuffles around a bit and melds into the shadows. And if somehow that doesn't get you to go away, the Pallid Leech will pull itself up to its full height of 5 foot 2 inches, its back and joints popping and cracking loudly as it goes, before just staring sadly at you. "I just want to sleep," it says, "Why can't you let me sleep?" It's raspy voice will cling to the air, clawing at it like gnarled tree limbs on windows in the fall.

A candle's light shined in its direction will reveal its ghastly pale flesh and color-changing hair (the colors favoring darker shades of red, purple, and blue), though it will also reveal the creature's sensitivity to light. For a moment, this will stun the creature, its eyes--like two great gaping blue maws--filling with dirty tears, giving the Pallid Leech the appearance of smeared black eye makeup. It's then that you, investigating what had been just a pile of blankets and pillows, will likely start to wonder how long this creature's been here? Where did it come from? Why is it shredding their face off with its freshly-clipped, jagged nails? From there it's an eternal downward spiral of continued questioning, confusion, and loneliness as the person lays bleeding out on the basement floor, the Pallid Leech left to look for another basement to continue its 16 hour sleep cycle before it finally feats on pumpkin spice or mint-flavored treats.

The Feymorphed Leech written by Penelope

Legend: Long ago, in the heart of a forest lived a compassionate, wise druid. Legend tells that this druid had unyielding dedication to healing both creatures and the nature around them. On one day, sorrow befell the druid as upon wandering the forest, they came across a rare white stag with a mysterious ailment that they had never seen before. It is said this druid vowed to find a cure to heal the noble creature.

To extract the disease or poison, the druid read ancient texts and practiced different healing anecdotes and spiritual rituals, but defeat came upon this forest nomad and desperation filled the druid’s core. In order to cast out the sickness of the stag, the druid decided to use dark magic to enchant a leech to extract the poison from the buck. It is said the druid placed the leech upon the stag and corruption took over causing a dark, twisted fate of the beautiful large beast. After a few days the druid went to check in on the stag and night had fallen and the nomad walked by the light of the moon. In the shadows of the forest, echoes of what would have been soft grunts and bleats of a deer were replaced with groans and clicking that attempted to mimic the sounds of a deer the best it could. Out of the darkness, it was said that the animal turned into a nightmare of a creature as the stag began to decay and holes began to form in the carcass of the elk. From the holes sprouted long probosci with sharp teeth, and the stag’s fur turned to gray. The stag was feeding and latching itself onto a bear that thought of the creature as prey. Story has it that this leech bounces from hosts of different living creatures and still wanders the forests until this very day.

One account has said that the creature managed to attach itself to a person, where once detached and left for dead, the person recounted that they could feel everything that was happening to them and what the parasite was doing. Almost like a state of sleep paralysis as the creature fed on them inside out. It took over the person’s body, but word has it, the person could only repeat fractured words and not complete sentences with long groans and clicking in between.

Features: This single parasite takes the form of a living creature. Once transferred from a host to a different host, new host begins to decay while drawing the color and life out of the animal. Long probosci begin to take over the body of the animal before the parasite begins to mimic the sounds of the creature (normally trying to form the sounds that were imprinted before the original creature died). The noises that it makes tries to draw more creatures in, like prey, to select a new host to continue living on for survival. It latches on via its proboscis, but can also draw unsuspecting creatures by using its magic to draw out appendages of its previous hosts. In order for capture, its prey needs to be in close proximity for these appendages to hold the living until the leech can get in close for its new home.

Weak Against: Legend has it, if one comes across this cryptid, that it is weakened by fire.

Locations: Word travels that this creature wanders damp forests.

Pestilence written by Kanna

Pestilence is a plague that strikes when communities become too complacent. This is a sentiment that worshippers of any deity in Praemia have memorized and taken to heart. Do the gods themselves come down to deliver that punishment, though? Of course not. They leave that to Pestilence herself. Throughout the Western Plains, one would be hard-pressed to not know the legend. The byrgs all abide by these unspoken rules so as not to let Pestilence know where they are: Turn off all the lights at sundown. The light of the moons will be enough to guide your way, but dim enough that Pestilence cannot see her way though the Dead Woods. If you spot the silhouette of a dryad outside of the byrg at night, hide. Do not touch the mushrooms that appear around the homes. Do not open the gates. Do not enter the Dead Woods for any reason, for it is Pestilence’s domain. If you have found yourself in the domain of Pestilence and see the mushrooms growing from the footprints you leave behind, you may prefer to give yourself a quick death to avoid what is about to happen to you.

Spearfinger Hag written by Joan

What is the cryptid's name?
- Spearfinger Hag

What does it look like?
- Spearfinger Hag's mostly can be seen as a kindly harmless older woman in old ragged dress and robe about her thin shoulders, her hair is wild and wispy, mostly uncombed with the hair color between grey and snowy white, her skin a brownish color, her smile from afar seems kindly if only missing a few teeth like any normal elder, tho her mouth and lips upon closer inpection are stained with the blood of her vicitms. Her skin is made of rock. Most of note is her left hand, at the end of her index finger is a obsidian spear in place of a normal figer. This she uses to harm and murder her vicitms.

Where can it be found?
- Spearfinger Hag can be found roaming mostly around the mountain range area of Xalious Mountains, using the mountain paths to travel about looking for her vicitms.

What does it eats?
- Livers of her children vicitms.

Legends about it?
- Spearfinger Hag was a recent 'creature' that surfaced after the fall of Alithyk Caluss. Seems this creature was created in hopes to add to the ever growing undead ranks by going out and hunting down children, adding their poor little corpses to the ranks.

Powers?
- Spearfinger hag has power over stone, such that she can easily carry and lift immense blouders. She can cement these together by merely sticking one against the other. Spearfinger hag can also shapeshift into family members of her child victims. Once she makes herself a part of her victim's world, she lacks the ability to change her form while still in anyone else's sight. Since she is made from stone, arrows cannot pierce her skin. They shatter when they hit her.

How dos she lure her vicitms?
- Most times in the guise of an old woman the spearfinger hag would approach along the trail where the children were picking strawberries or playing near a village, and would say to them coaxingly, "Come, my grandchildren, come to your granny and let granny dress your hair." When some little child ran up and laid their head in the old woman's lap to be petted and combed the old hag would gently run her fingers through the child's hair until it went to sleep, then she would stab the little one through the heart or back of the neck with the long spear finger, which she had kept hidden under her robe. Then she would take out the liver and eat it.

Attacks look like?
- Spearfinger Hag is a creature of stealth. She leaves no scars, even as she used her spear finger to draw out the livers. It often takes days for her victims to perish.

How can it be defeated?
- Aiming for her double fisted right hand around the wrist or palm area, there is her heart hidden away.

Fortune Howler written by Kreekitaka

Every so often, a diviner will be exactly right about some prediction of a disastrous future. In rare occasions, even a previously unreliable scrivener will record an extremely detailed portent found to be so precise and accurate that they gain some measure of renown for its success, only to fall out of the limelight again as they're unable to replicate their previous results. Some diviners who find success this way attribute it to a creature referred to as the Fortune Howler. Reports made by these diviners--who claim to have seen it once and never again after that--seem to describe it as a vast multiheaded entity mostly obscured by a red fog, and when it appears to them in whatever divination spell they cast, it screams out a breathless, polyphonic, continuous howling. Droning underneath the howl comes a chant, they claim, which comes from a head that stares directly into the seer's eyes as it sings, and its words describe a coming catastrophe that cannot be averted. Of course, nobody has been able to confirm these reports. No physical traces of such a creature have ever been found, and no diviners attempting to contact it have ever been successful. Some say it's a shame that these diviners have to invent an excuse for their perfect foretellings and can't simply accept that they got lucky or have a talent that needs more training. Others, however, have looked into the nature of reports that mention the Howler, and there is a fascinating correlation between diviners who claim to have seen the Fortune Howler and got it wrong... and an early retirement age.

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