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(Flashback to my first experience with a Starbuck)
"Oh cool! A deer!"

headbutt headbutt headbutt

\yell One down NE field...

The trool. Currently indistinguishable from the much weaker orc, these shambling fellows take a lot of killing.

The starbuck. Currently the Puddleby headbutt king, these fellows pack a bigger punch than you'd think.

The giant vermine. Six feet of tail, teeth and attitude. I tend to mistake them for their less well-toothed cousins, the large vermine.

The warrior myrm. Currently indistinguishable from the protector. These red fellows take a lickin' and keep on tickin'.

The arachnoid. Like other bugs around Puddleby, these tend to grow a lot bigger than you're used to. They also bite a lot harder. There are places where you can find LOTS of these.

These friendly little fellows are hooded corpses. They tend to travel in packs and, since they're already dead, they're a little hard to kill. They're slow but they hit HARD.

The feral. This insane mutt chases its tail all over the place, then comes over and mauls you. Very annoying.

The artak cougar is a bad kitty, but the bolok cougar (similar in appearance but darker colored) is a lot worse.

A detached spirit. Cute little guy, but—like all undine—he packs a whallop. The big ones are more common but are still hard to see.

A mottled meshra. Mostly mouth, as you can see. Lives in swampy places with its various relatives, all of whom have large appetites.

The giant skeletal. A skinny fellow, as you can see, but to kill it you have to break it into little itty-bitty pieces. That takes a lot of breaking.

The corpse warrior. You see that axe it's carrying? And do you remember the song about Lizzy Borden giving her folks 40 whacks? Well, that's Lizzy, in a baaaad mood.

The royal myrm. It's exactly what it looks like—the warrior myrm's bigger, badder brother. It's twice as big, bites twice as hard, and—fortunately—runs at the same speed.

A death vermine. They're, well, death vermine. 'Nuff said.

Ah, the wendecka. Affectionately known as "wendy", they come in two flavors: regular (white) and night (blue).

The maha ruknee. A bad, bad kitty—as mean as it is pretty. They do make great shirts, though.

The giant rockodile. Along with its smaller relatives, this over-sized set of luggage packs a nasty chomp. Fortunately, he takes a long time to recover from a swing.

The orga berserk. This buff fellow makes all too frequent stops in the fields and forests around Puddleby, inevitably leaving piles of bodies wherever he visits.

The Queen Myrm. She takes great delight in munching the heck out of entire parties of exiles. Since she and her court are pretty deep in the hive, don't go looking for her until you're eating coal and farting ethanol.

This is the bad boy of the ski slopes—the frost giant. Together with his friend the tree giant, this over-sized ball of snow makes life a trifle flat for curious exiles (myself) or those not fleet of foot.

I sincerely hope this never happens to you.