Sometimes wizards get creative. Most of the time, this is a bad thing. The serpopard is a kind of chimera. It's made from the body of a leopard and has two heads sprouting from its body, vicious and serpentine. If left unchecked, such a volatile creature would eventually fight with itself and tear off its own heads. To prevent this, most Serpopards are magically bound to an enchanted amulet. It is also a ward against the Serpopard itself; wield it, and the savage beast will obey. Lose it, and you will be its next gruesome plaything. Instinct: to hunt

• Tear something in twain
• Paralyze them with venom
• Obey the amulet-bearer

A feathery head with a mosquito's proboscis, fleshy wings, and four sickly claws, the Stirge is one of the grossest pests Dungeon World has to offer. They gather in swarms under the blood moon, draining the blood of livestock and farmers alike. If you hear their dissonant chirping, hide. Instinct: to suck blood

• Latch onto them
• Fatigue the bitten
• Chirp for the swarm

"The first of our kind were born from the whims of a foul warlock, Girtablilu. In a way, she is like the very desert we roam: cruel and punishing, yet within this strife lay life and bounty. Our ancestors tore her to shreds and fed her to our young. Savage, isn't it? To you, maybe. But to us, that was food for the night. The dunes we call home are rough, hence why we are your guides on this journey. But if next time we meet our tribe bears the red paint of the hunt, do not show us mercy. We won't to you, for the desert is harsh and we need food. Now rest, we must continue our travel at dawn." Instinct: to survive

• Guide others through the desert
• Paralyze with a stinger
• Toss a javelin

Palimpsest -- a word referring to a scroll that has since been reused, its original text scratched off to save parchment. Harmless enough, just be careful what you write. If the parchment of a magic scroll is reused too often it will come alive. The text of its previous authors, faded but not gone, merges together. Now alive and hungry for more magic, the Palimpsest floats between bookshelves, masquerading as something mundane. When the time is right, it will pull an unsuspecting reader into its form. With each victim the Palimpsest grows stronger, able to invoke the magic of those it consumes. Wizards beware. Instinct: to absorb living magic

• Slowly absorb them
• Hide on bookshelves
• Invoke the magic of its victims
• Summon an inky fog

The Spiderlord has many ways to influence the forest's weaker denizens. The promise of power, for instance. To impart some lowly goblins a sliver of the Spiderlord's prowess is enough to guarantee a tribe's fealty. Now armed with arachnid appendages sprouting from their backs and a six new eyes, these goblins become vessels of the Spiderlord's bidding. Their goblin-speak is gargled by the frothing of venom, and their bloodlust has been given new purpose. They are no longer goblins -- they are Spidergraft. Instinct: To frenzy for its lord

• Pounce onto prey and poison it
• Charge with the horde

Born of the earth. Rock-chewers, iron-spitters, ancient smiths. When the first Dwarf struck a mallet to metal, the Cyclopes emerged from the depths to facilitate the birth of a new iron age. Their forges are the subject of worship, and the eye of the Cyclops is an ancient Dwarven symbol that denotes perfect craftsmanship. To seek out the teachings of a Cyclops is to venture below the realm of the Dwarves -- to a place where the distinction between our world, the underworld, and the plane of earth is no longer obvious. If you can make it there, you will have already proven yourself worthy to be taught an ancient Cyclopean technique. Instinct: to forge underground

• Create something legendary
• Teach ancient metallurgy

"Great Phoenix, I plead to you! Renew the life of my stillborn son! Shed a single feather from the noonday sky, and the royal family shall be indebted to you as you once were to our ancestor! I beg to you as a humble descendent of your ancient master, Apyrion, grant me this favor to soothe our family's aching heart!" Instinct: to embody rebirth

• Arise from ashes after centuries
• Envelop the unworthy in flame
• Renew a person from death

Silken are the undead husks of those whose bodies were forgotten by a giant spider. As time went on, the victim's corpse, embalmed in webs, began to ferment with sickly poisons. Eventually the soul surrenders itself to its fate; to one day be eaten. So the Silken remains dormant. But Spiderlords have discovered a new use for them. In addition to being a reserve food source, the Silken can be commanded by their captor, and slow the advance of those encroaching into the Spiderlord's lair. Instinct: to protect its killer

• Enmesh in webbing
• Explode into poison
• Sense a disturbance in the web

A Wocket in the pocket is a nuisance for any adventurer. They are fickle creatures, and live in the cluttered spaces of the world. Leave too much random junk in your backpack and a Wocket might find its way in. The realm they live in isn't our own -- it's an interdimensional space that links every container in the world. Only a few creatures can exist, let alone perceive this place. Wockets are one of them. They're chatty folk too, and they love to bargain. If they take a liking to the knick-knacks in your bag, you'll have to convince them to lend you their newfound furniture. Instinct: to inhabit a pocket or bag

• Withhold an item for a price
• Vanish inside a pocket
• Weigh down its carrier

Sculpted to capture the essence of a great warrior, these stone or marble soldiers guard the halls of monarchs. They make great decorations too. Instinct: To guard

• Follow orders implacably
• Dent armor, crush bone
• Become still and blend in