A regular house cat, but with wings and flight. They have power over fate and victory, and many consider them to be excellent luck. By feeding them yummy wet food and hoping they’re in a good mood (50-50), they can ‘absorb’ a roll. Good luck (a roll or 15 or higher on a d20) nourishes them, but lower rolls hurt them and will kill them eventually. Killing them or even being near them when they die curses you – all your crits turn to fumbles.
An amphibious creature actually most closely related to caecilians, which explains the dumb look on their face. Two thin necks terminating in small heads, attached to a rotund body pushed about on small, weak limbs. Despite their lack of intelligence, hard shells, natural weaponry, or any self-preservation instincts, the twin drake manages to survive in essentially every climate and region. There is a truly dizzying array of species and subspecies which even now evade the classification efforts of natural scientists, who are also stumped by their evolutionary success.
An inverted sear urchin. The holes in its carapace are deeper than they should be – some of them have pores miles deep, but the biggest aren’t externally larger than an ox wagon. They can suddenly vacate the area around them of water, entirely, and hold this for up to a minute. Underwater, this is a very successful method of predation – most of the prey is killed by the fall or suffocation. In the deepest depths, the water rushing back once the pressure is allowed to equalize strikes the shell and ocean floor with force comparable to low-yield atom bombs. Wizards have been trying to breed one that can evacuate air.
A large tree that naturally grows hollow, with the bottom filled with bird skeletons. The temperature inside the hollow gets incredibly hot, and most of the trees seem to grow near geothermal vents. The tree’s temperature can be controlled by drilling holes in the bark, and was historically used for cooking and baking in lands where they grow. They are carnivorous, as the warmth they provide are tempting in the cold climes they habitate. Most of them just eat a portion of whatever people cook in them.
A cross between a mudskipper and a goldfish. Shits everywhere, constantly. Tries to eat things bigger than it. Dumb, dirty, useless. Prized pets for the children of the upper-upper nobility. Can barely breath water and can hardly locomote either. Even worse on land.
Might be mistaken for a fur scarf/coat that someone ironed flat. Somewhere on the flat body is a perfectly circular mouth with sharp teeth, which can swallow anything that solt’s body can enclose. Small ones like to steal goblets, dishes, silverware, etc. and run off. Larger ones swallow deer whole and use them to outrun away from natural predators – primarily humans, since solt fur is extraordinarily fine and fetches ludicrous prices.
Everyone knows panthers have a strange power over languages. Wizards used this innate ability and crossbred them with parrots, to create a servant species of messengers. The body of a panther, the beak of a parrot, the eyes of a predatory cat. When you tell a panther bird something, you forget it, immediately and completely. This doesn’t work the other way. They work for food. Bitter at their ill-begotten physiques and psyche, like most wizard creations. Phased out, because the little shits kept asking people their names, and because they have a tendency to talk if someone catches them.
Also called Eartheater fleas. Despite the scary name and fearsome appearance, these creatures are relatively peaceful, and don’t suck blood. Instead, they draw water from deep reservoirs in the earth, using their sometimes mile-long proboscides. The people of the desert they inhabit use them as mounts, and their skilled riders can practically fly across the desert, though this exhausts their mounts to the point of death.