"A pile of rocks that can hunt. That's not really the worst of it, mind—they don't act like proper animals going about their business. These aren't those nervous, "as likely to run off when they see you as look at you" types. No, these monsters have a tick of something vile in 'em. Whatever goes on in their damn rotted brains is stuck on making life miserable for everyone. A ragged bit of creation, if you ask me."

—Anonymous

"My knife just bounced off that shell, a mistake that should have ended me—but luck was with me. Spared to spread a word of warning to others, I guess. Never fight these things with an ego. You find yourself facing one, shoot to kill or get the hell out of there."

—Freelancer Maa

"Retger's skill with a rifle proved no match for the animal's uncanny speed, as he fired three shots that landed well wide of the target. Cursing his luck, the threw his firearm down in disgust. At that moment, two of the creatures leapt from the bush and knocked him down. Only with repeated gunshots into the air did we scare the beasts off. Retger—indeed, all of us—would never underestimate these long-eared creatures again."

—From "Signs of Life" by Garrington Wells

"Looking up from the field notes that had wholly consumed my attention, I was surprised to find myself surrounded by a collection of chirping creatures. At first, I was delighted. They were curious but cautious, keeping their distance. I set my book down and sat quietly, not wanting to alarm them. A few of the braver ones stepped forward to sniff my equipment and poke around my tent. One stepped up to me, a low trill coming from its throat. Only when the fanged mouth split wide in warning did a chill creep up my spine. Unharmed but unsettled, I remained still until the creatures moved on."

—From Field Record #453, by Utassi Hans

"The lead beast smashed through our defenses, allowing its stampeding cousins entry to our base camp. The rumble of their assault nearly shook us off our feet. We could only watch in helpless awe as they flattened our buildings and crushed our equipment. I don't know what set them off, but I hope never to stir them to action again.".

—From Field Record #337, by Utassi Hans

"Spotting the herd from my vantage point high atop the bluff, I marveled at the brutal design this world insists upon for its creatures. Large plates of bone covering a thick, rough hide, thick legs meant for bursts of charging speed, and stomachs capable of ingesting a wide range of toxic plants. If left alone, they graze in relative silence with occasional grunts or bellows to ensure their small herds remain close. When disturbed, they shift to engines of destruction."

—From "Signs of Life" by Garrington Wells

"The cursed thing snapped at my hand and left a long scratch across the metal. I blasted the horn, hoping to scare it away. That just got it mad. It hissed and jumped at me, snapping against the thick glass of the windshield. Two more bit into some of my hydraulic lines. Things were getting bad. I was losing mobility and could see more of them crawling out of the trees. I dropped the scrap metal I was carrying and made for home."

—From Sentinel incident report FT/302, Tarsis Steppe Farm

"They glided along the dirt path like a brightly colored river. Moving in shifting directions, but with unmistakable purpose. I held the arm of my child to keep him from running down to greet these colorful creatures. He did not see the bloody footprints they left."

—From "The Easy Toil: Breaking Ground in Bastion" by Ingal Bass

"I refuse to believe those vile things were conceived and shaped here. My brain conjures images of some blasted nightmare where blackened plains are home to endless hordes. A chitinous sea spreads in a poisonous wave across a dead world. The sky is dark and cracks with endless lightning and rainless storms. They call this damned place home, and pity the lost traveler that stumbles upon it."

—From "I Beckoned the Stranger" by Mentor Kurcer Attjax

"My light is failing. A cave-in has cut off my escape. Endless scratching at the stone is the only sound in this cold grave. They search for a way in."

—Author Unknown

"Humanity's struggles against the urgoth included a limited harnessing of the tesilars' inherent power generation for their basic needs. So reliant were they upon the animal's gifts that a certain fondness developed, despite the danger the creature posed. If the uprising against our oppressors had occurred a few generations later, I wager that tesilars would have been wholly domesticated."

—From "Early Days: A Reckoning of War" by Fionna Nomeri

"They appeared quite agitated at the sight of our loader—our hand was making his way across the clearing laden with generator parts. I could see only flashes of lightning and hear the crack of metal snapping. The loader stopped dead, black smoke rising from its frame. I could see our man frantically trying to urge the machine onward as the assault continued until the yellow paint had peeled back from bare metal. Satisfied the threat had passed, the hooting creatures tottered away into the jungle."

—Witness account, Tarsis Steppe Farm

"I could tell you about titans, but you would not believe me. No story, no account, no anything prepares you for that first time you see one. Destroy them where you find them, you hear me?"

—Freelancer Yarrow

"The stone monster slumbered. I've seen the jungle move with uncanny speed to overgrow and reclaim anything abandoned, soon overwhelming even the grandest structures—yet the broad back of this silent giant remained curiously bare of green. Perhaps there is a voiceless understanding that the jungle cannot master something beyond the natural world."

—From "An Explorer's Account: The Collected Journals of Utassi Hans" by M. Chronicler

"I won't relate the grim details of my long night spent in a cargo container listening to the grunts and huffs of the lumbering creature outside. I was certain it had my scent but couldn't work out how to enter the steel box. The thundering howls of frustration shook my soul, and I shall never sleep a full night in peace again."

—From the field notes of Arcanist Sethi Guj

"The pack of wolven split into two. Half harassed the side while the rest nipped and barked at the front of the great beast. One darted in and bit deep into a leg, tearing off a sizable chunk. This emboldened the rest of the group, who took turns stealing in under the swinging arms and biting new wounds into the thick hide. It seemed the ursix was done for, but with a ground-trembling howl, it grabbed one of the closest attackers and hoisted far above it head before smashing it down into its unfortunate brethren. Seeing their advantage destroyed, the pack turned and ran. The lord of the jungle bellowed a challenge; wisely, none responded."

—From "An Explorer's Account: the collected journals of Utassi Hans" by M. Chronicler

"The first time you hear the howl followed by the answering call of its pack is the last moment you wish to be alone in the dark. The tone is both mournful and menacing, with a slight vibration of the unnatural—effective at rendering prey frozen in terror. To that end, all mortal things in the open wilds are considered prey to these merciless hunters."

—From "The Unknown Blood" by Mentor Kurcer Attjax

"I checked my rifle constantly. Cleaned as best as could be managed in the wet jungle. The pack had ambushed us—five, perhaps six, springing from the dense jungle in ruthless coordination. We lost two, Arcanist Reeve and Engineer Dahr, that first night. After that, it became a race to the fortified Sentinel base three days march from our position. The attacks continued through that first night and into the days ahead. We started the expedition with fourteen, but only three of us arrived at the gates."

—From "Lost Sun and Rain" by Lox Bergol

"It is not enough to watch the tall grass and dense vines for the flash of a predator's teeth—we too must gaze upward to search for silhouette of long wings and cruel talons."

—From "The Grindstone of Fate" by Mentor Kurcer Attjax

"A collection of steady, unblinking eyes watched from the high cliff. We were striking camp as quickly as possible, but clearly running out of time. The collection of flying predators grew by the second. We must have seemed easy prey to those merciless creatures. In truth, we were."

—From Field Record #189, by Utassi Hans

Sometimes called the Mighty Swiper, this formidable brute is fast and strong and will knock you right on your butt when you least expect it. Brutes have unique mating rituals, where clutches of males gather to duke it out over who will be the female's main squeeze. Once all comers are vanquished, the male has to go find the female, who has gotten bored halfway through the ritual. The female will then decide if the male smells acceptable, and if he does, they mate for life. If the male is rejected, he usually finds a cave to brood in for the rest of his life. Romantic!

—From "Bastion's Amazing Animals!" by Venwick Crok

"The fog was so thick, I smelled the creature before I saw it—swamp water and old blood. I felt the soft jungle earth drum with each step: Boom. Boom. Boom. It swayed as it walked, each step shifting its head crest like tall grass in an easy wind, ponderous and slow until it spotted me. The eyes sharpened, and before another heartbeat, it sprang with shocking speed and grace. That smell and a deep scar from shoulder to stomach marked that day forever."

—From "The Green Hunters" by Garrington Wells

"...the small group of creatures were foraging not a hundred steps from camp. They walked upright, with a steady, unhurried gate. Well-proportioned for hunting and capable of terrible bursts of speed, they were impressive and fascinating predators. Unnoticed, we crouched low to the jungle floor and watched their every move. Though our guardians urged us to depart, we were too rapt with discovery. These beasts were something new, perhaps thrown from their own world by unimaginable Shaper forces or newly migrated to Bastian and as yet undiscovered."

—From "An Explorer's Account: The Collected Journals of Utassi Hans" by M. Chronicler

Rare, mysterious, and legendary in size, the six-legged Swarm Tyrant prefers a dark, damp environment where it can live in relative peace. But beware! If you do stumble into a Swarm Tyrant's house, you're in for a memorable time. Boy, can these things leap! Just when you think you've run far enough away, they'll land right on top of you with their glorious bulk. Swarm tyrants earn their name from their willingness to sacrifice their young to save themselves, using them to cover their tails and other vulnerable areas. They'll even hurl their babies at you so the Tyrant can regroup. No one is more important to the Swarm Tyrant than the Swarm Tyrant. All hail!

—From "Bastion's Amazing Animals!" by Venwick Crok

"I have no desire to see the mother of these monsters. The thought alone ensures irrational dread in darkened rooms and grey nights of restless worry."

—Anonymous

Far below the green, a queen well-appointed.
Gathers souls unseen from the foolish brave.
Grim worship gathered from her anointed,
Each gray web its own black grave.

So, hush child—your wild cries invite
Her vile gaze to stray from corners dark.
Lie still, no tears, no trouble this night,
Else upon your cheek find the queen's black mark.

—Traditional