A skeleton raised with a bow in its hands and left to shoot at whoever crosses the tent line outside Thalorion. It feels nothing and fears nothing, and it fights exactly as well…
A skeleton warrior, raised from whatever the last war left in the ground: cheap, obedient, in rusted mail that used to belong to someone. Under the rust it is good mail, cut for a…
A man of the old road, put back under the turf and risen again. The split crown is cut into what armour is left, and he keeps to the road he was posted on.
The thing that comes over the wall when the dead have done their work: a dragon's skeleton, strung with glowing threads at every joint, made to fly by a will that is not its own…
The ancient tree's guardian, faceless, standing in the stone circle and keeping it. It knows everyone who comes near it, and what it was set to keep is not a thing it will give…
One armoured dead man at the broken King's Gate, saying the old ballad's line to every traveller: in the name of my King you shall not pass. He is not cruel about it; he only does…
Straw, rope and a post, set up in Wardenrest so a newcomer can learn the swing without a farmer's complaint. It does not hit back, and it never tires of being hit.
Wolf
The vale's own hunters. One is a nuisance; a pack is a plan.
A wolf not yet grown, testing the edges of the farms at dusk. It is among the first things a newcomer fights, and the first thing that teaches them to look behind themselves.
A wolf of the vale. Lean, grey, patient, and never alone for long: a wolf that fights calls its kin, and a wolf's kin come. Young ones test the edges of the farms at dusk; the…
A wolf of the Hollow's north-east plateau that learned the sound of the chapel bell. It comes down the ramp in a pack and goes back up it with a grudge.
A crocodile of the river mud, still as driftwood until the moment it is not. Its first lunge is the one to survive; after that it is slow, and it knows it.
A crocodile of the river mud, still as driftwood until the moment it is not. Its first lunge is the one to survive; after that it is slow, and it knows it.
A crocodile of the river mud, still as driftwood until the moment it is not. Its first lunge is the one to survive; after that it is slow, and it knows it. This one is an elite of…
Night-brood
The night-brood: the dead that kept their hunger. They are pale, quick and hard to look at for long.
Someone's neighbour, once. The bite took the rest, and what is left is pale, quick and hungry. Thralls run ahead of the bones when the siege comes over Thalorion's walls, faster…
A spider of the deep woods, broad as a shield, that does not move until you are close enough. Then the first strike is everything it has, and the web does the rest.
A spider of the deep woods, broad as a shield, that does not move until you are close enough. Then the first strike is everything it has, and the web does the rest. This one is an…
An ash-grey spider of the Hollow's west woods, spinning where the trees died. Its silk is tough enough to be worth the climb, and the weaver is tougher.
Viper
They wait. Then the first bite is the worst of it.
A hobgoblin with soot to the elbows and a satchel of clay pots that burst into fire. The dead do not need engines; someone is paying the hobgoblins to run them anyway.
A hobgoblin, the goblin's bigger, slower, better-organised cousin. It trades blows rather than skipping away, and it is the one working the siege engine.
A hobgoblin, the goblins' larger, slower, better-organised cousin. It stands and trades blows, and in a siege it is the one working the engine. This one is an elite of its kind…
A kobold, one of a warren. Alone it is nothing much; it is never alone. A kobold in trouble shrieks, and the shriek is answered. This one is an elite of its kind: hardier, with…
A bear. It would rather be left alone, and it is wise to let it be: a hurt bear fights harder than a whole one, and a bear is never quick to decide it is hurt enough to stop.
A bear. It would rather be left alone, and it is wise to let it be: a hurt bear fights harder than a whole one, and a bear is never quick to decide it is hurt enough to stop.
A bear. It would rather be left alone, and it is wise to let it be: a hurt bear fights harder than a whole one, and a bear is never quick to decide it is hurt enough to stop.
A dragon of the mountain, old enough to have a name you will not learn. It holds its ground and breaks what comes to it; it does not need to chase. This one is an elite of its…
An elder dragon of the high mountain, with a name you will not learn and a memory longer than the city's. It does not chase. It does not need to. It stands where it stands, and…
A dragon of the mountain, old enough to have a name you will not learn. It holds its ground and breaks what comes to it; it does not need to chase. This one is an elite of its…
A druid of the groves who took up a mace and a shield and put the old gentleness down. It holds its ground and hits hard, and it does not answer when you speak.
A ghoul, the fresh dead with the hunger still in them. Its keening pulls the strength from anyone already wounded, which is why the triage halls hate them most.
A dead man in a king's colours, dried by the Barrens' wind and wrapped for a post he never left. The tomb in the Big Mesa gave up a great many of them.
A mummy of the old tombs, wrapped and dry and patient. It comes on slowly and keeps coming, and what it touches does not heal clean. This one is an elite of its kind: hardier…
Orc
They come in hard and they come in angry, and at half health they come in angrier.
An orc of the warband under Sentinel Butte. It ties captives to bone-framed shields and marches them in front of the line, which works, and which is the worst of it.
The Vampire Elite is one of the vampire kind. Little is written of it yet; what the world knows, it learned the hard way. This one is an elite of its kind: hardier, with more…
The The Crypt Lord is one of the vampire kind. Little is written of it yet; what the world knows, it learned the hard way. This one is an elite of its kind: hardier, with more…
Dragonkin
What the dragons left behind, or made, or became; the scholars disagree and the dragonkin do not care.
A dragonkin captain, scaled and upright, with a dragon's blood and a soldier's temper. It guards what the dragons left, and it will not be told otherwise.
A griffin: an eagle's head and wings on a lion's body, and the temper of both. It holds back, picks its moment, and comes in with everything. This one is an elite of its kind…
A griffin: an eagle's head and wings on a lion's body, and the temper of both. It holds back, picks its moment, and comes in with everything. This one is an elite of its kind…
Manticore
A lion's body, a barbed tail, a man's spite. It strikes and withdraws and strikes again.
A manticore with a lion's weight and a tail it has used many times. Keep your distance and keep your head, because the barbs fly further than they look.
A manticore, with a lion's frame and a tail of barbs it can throw. It strikes and withdraws and strikes again, and the barbs keep working after it has gone.
A manticore, with a lion's frame and a tail of barbs it can throw. It strikes and withdraws and strikes again, and the barbs keep working after it has gone.
A manticore, with a lion's frame and a tail of barbs it can throw. It strikes and withdraws and strikes again, and the barbs keep working after it has gone. This one is an elite…
Thorn
Hounds of the blackthorn ridge, more hedge than dog. Cut one and it grows back what it lost, unless it is burning.
A Thorn-hound: wool, thorn and sap, and a howl from further back in the throat than a wolf's. What you cut from it grows back while it is not burning, and Mother Ashby's charm is…
A Briar Pup: wool, thorn and sap, and a howl from further back in the throat than a wolf's. What you cut from it grows back while it is not burning, and Mother Ashby's charm is a…
A Briar Hound: wool, thorn and sap, and a howl from further back in the throat than a wolf's. What you cut from it grows back while it is not burning, and Mother Ashby's charm is…
A The Briar Mother: wool, thorn and sap, and a howl from further back in the throat than a wolf's. What you cut from it grows back while it is not burning, and Mother Ashby's…
Werewolf
A werewolf, a wolf that the moon got into. It is quick, hardy and cruel to what it was meant to guard.
The Werewolf Elite is one of the werewolf kind. Little is written of it yet; what the world knows, it learned the hard way. This one is an elite of its kind: hardier, with more…
A Silverfang wolf that the moon came up wrong for. It was a good hunter before the frost got into its blood. Iron turns on its hide when the rage is on it; only silver keeps it…
Bandit
A raider of the roads, there for the coin and the ledger. It fights as a gang fights, together, and runs when the gang is broken.
The Waylayer Lookout is one of the bandit kind. Little is written of it yet; what the world knows, it learned the hard way. This one is an elite of its kind: hardier, with more…
The Brigand Captain is one of the bandit kind. Little is written of it yet; what the world knows, it learned the hard way. This one is an elite of its kind: hardier, with more…
A chimera: lion, goat and serpent, grown together by something that should not have been allowed to. Each head has its own idea of how to kill you. This one is an elite of its…
Ogre
What an orc wishes it were. The ground remembers where one stood.
An ogre, a wall of meat with a club. It is slow to swing and you will know when it lands, and when it is hurt enough it stops caring about anything but you.
A The Hill-Sayer: bark where the skin was, roots where the feet were. Waking a Sentinel brings them up out of the hill to stop you. This one is an elite of its kind: hardier, with…
Golem
Made things that were told to stand somewhere, and have.
A golem of fitted stone, made to stand at a doorway, and standing there still a thousand years after the door was gone. It does not chase. What reaches it is broken.
A golem of pressure-ridge ice from the frozen mere, which stands up and walks about because nobody told it not to. It does not melt, and its blows carry the cold of the Peaks.
A troll that sits on the middle hairpins of the pass and charges travellers a toll in mules. Frost has made it harder to cut and no easier to reason with.
Wyvern
A dragon's lesser cousin, all wing and venom and no conversation.
A cyclops, one-eyed and enormous, with a club made from a tree. It is slow to start and impossible to stop, and it gets angrier as it gets hurt. This one is an elite of its kind…
Rootherd
The third hill's guardian, gone wrong. It keeps the hill's roots the way a drover keeps cattle, and something is keeping it.
The Rootherd: a beast of root and stone that rises out of the Pool under the third hill. While its threads hold, blows do little; cut them, and seal the cut ends with fire or…
The Forgelord, bound to his anvil by an oath-thread older than Thalorion. He was forging links of heavy chain stamped with the old king's mark, and the hammer in his hand has not…
Ent
A tree with a grudge: bark where the temper was, roots where the feet were. It is slow, heavy and patient, and the dead forest has more of them than it should.
The Tree Ent Elite is one of the ent kind. Little is written of it yet; what the world knows, it learned the hard way. This one is an elite of its kind: hardier, with more moves…
Hydra
Cut one head and you have learned something about hydras.
A Buck. It belongs to someone, it is not afraid of you, and it will not start anything. Striking one teaches your weapon skills all the same, and the farmers know exactly who did…
A Chicken. It belongs to someone, it is not afraid of you, and it will not start anything. Striking one teaches your weapon skills all the same, and the farmers know exactly who…
A cow. The vale's farms run on them and on the goats, and a new fighter learns the swing of a sword on one more often than anyone admits. It will not fight back until struck, and…
A Crab. It belongs to someone, it is not afraid of you, and it will not start anything. Striking one teaches your weapon skills all the same, and the farmers know exactly who did…
A Doe. It belongs to someone, it is not afraid of you, and it will not start anything. Striking one teaches your weapon skills all the same, and the farmers know exactly who did…
A Frog. It belongs to someone, it is not afraid of you, and it will not start anything. Striking one teaches your weapon skills all the same, and the farmers know exactly who did…
A wild goat of the high slopes, with horns that curve back over its shoulders. It wants nothing from you; struck, it gives you a lesson in what those horns are for.
A Pig. It belongs to someone, it is not afraid of you, and it will not start anything. Striking one teaches your weapon skills all the same, and the farmers know exactly who did…
A Rabbit. It belongs to someone, it is not afraid of you, and it will not start anything. Striking one teaches your weapon skills all the same, and the farmers know exactly who…
A Rat. It belongs to someone, it is not afraid of you, and it will not start anything. Striking one teaches your weapon skills all the same, and the farmers know exactly who did…
A Snail. It belongs to someone, it is not afraid of you, and it will not start anything. Striking one teaches your weapon skills all the same, and the farmers know exactly who did…
A Stall Cow. It belongs to someone, it is not afraid of you, and it will not start anything. Striking one teaches your weapon skills all the same, and the farmers know exactly who…
A Stall Goat. It belongs to someone, it is not afraid of you, and it will not start anything. Striking one teaches your weapon skills all the same, and the farmers know exactly…
A Swan. It belongs to someone, it is not afraid of you, and it will not start anything. Striking one teaches your weapon skills all the same, and the farmers know exactly who did…
A Old Ram. It belongs to someone, it is not afraid of you, and it will not start anything. Striking one teaches your weapon skills all the same, and the farmers know exactly who…
A wild goat of the Peaks' high ledges, with horns that curve back over its shoulders. It wants nothing from you; struck, it gives you a lesson in what those horns are for.