Gorynych

 Few outside the dark environs of the dungeon are aware that the warlocks of that realm hold a magic tournament every fifth year. The best and brightest warlocks and overlords compete, demonstrating their prowess in the four elemental schools of magic, their abilities to develop new potions and to create new creatures to serve the dungeon hierarchy. In each category, only one contestant is awarded the coveted Pendant of the Black Dragon--a badge of both prestige and power within the warlock world.

One of the most renowned warlocks of this (or any) age, Alamar, was the recipient of five such pendants--one each for earth, air, water and fire magic expertise, and one more for his Potion of Paralyzation, which he had distilled from the venom of a scorpicore. Yet, the sixth and final Pendant of the Black Dragon, for the best new creature, eluded him for many years.

One year, his carefully bred mushroom-detecting troglodytes were beaten by Agar's de-odorized harpies, while at the next contest, his porcupine/medusa mix took second to Gunnar's manure-free manticores. So it went--always his creatures were widely applauded but never quite good enough for the coveted pendant.

Finally, Alamar determined to expand his horizons--to blend non-native dungeon creatures to create something truly unique. He traveled far, through the lands of the elves, where he dabbled briefly with a dwarf/harpy mix (too heavy to fly), and the lands of the barbarians where he had a brief success with crossing evil eyes and cyclops until the other cyclops destroyed his prototype as an abomination (Ugh! Many eyes! Ugh!), before finally reaching the sulfurous swamps of the beastmasters. There he captured a young hydra before returning to his dungeon lair to begin preparations. A grand design--the speed of a dragon, with the many heads of the hydra. Multiple breathe attacks, and the ability to fly--truly a beast to strike fear in the heart of the stoutest kanniggit.

Unfortunately for Alamar, crossbreeding dragons and hydras proved to be much more difficult than he had imagined. His first attempt burned itself to death when one head tried to talk to another, while his second smashed to the ground when it was unable to fly and attack at the same time. The contest loomed and Alamar finally settled on a compromise: the gorynych—a multi-headed beast that attacked without retaliation, yet could fly and moved at least a little faster than a chaos hydra. Alas, his run of bad luck continued--the gorynych was showcased the same year that Jeddite developed his self-veiling medusas, and once again the Pendant he so coveted was denied to Alamar. Out of frustration and spite, Alamar released his prototype gorynyches into the wild, to snack on the unsuspecting and those who are foolish enough to attempt to wrap their tongues around the beasts' wholly unpronounceable name.

War Zealot

For long years, these zealots isolate themselves in remote monasteries where the only visitors they have are travelers who have lost their way, and even these seldom more than once a year. During this time of isolation, the zealots practice their fighting skills and train their minds to repel all magic.

Arctic Sharpshooter

The sharpshooters, originally trained by Gelu, were so popular because of their combat skills that all heroes desired to have them as part of their army. And the prestige of being a sharpshooter was so strong that the skills and training were passed on from father to son and mother to daughter.

In due course, it was possible to find sharpshooters in almost every part of Erathia, and as you can expect, they tried to adapt to local conditions. So the arctic sharpshooters have appeared. They have an improved attack and are also able to hide in snow-covered places, which allows them to be better protected from missile fire..

Lava Sharpshooter

Another type of sharpshooter - the lava sharpshooter. Their house is a vault. Their hard lives have tempered them, resulting in their increased defensive ability. Lava sharpshooters get their name from the bottles of fiery lava in which they dip the tips of the arrows. In close combat they are able to use these flaming lava arrows to burn their assailants.

Nightmare

Necromancers aren't the most social of heroes. The lack of living flesh and blood might be the problem, or maybe the weird clothes they tend to wear. It could be the strange cackling they tend to emit when they laugh, or perhaps it's just the constant stink of death that seems to surround them. Whatever the reason, they generally aren't invited out to the most fashionable of parties. Actually, they generally aren't invited out to ANY parties--fashionable or not. So, they have a lot of time on their bony old hands.

Especially since they don't sleep. They know of dreams and they know of nightmares, remembering vaguely as they do their time before undeath, though they no longer have either. Not surprisingly, they prefer nightmares--especially for other people.

Thus it was that Sandro, in a fit of jealousy over the livies ability to dream, took a few of the undead steeds that were normally used by the black knights and began "working" with them. He trained them to move on their own, without the guidance of a rider, and he changed their appearance to make them fiercer to gaze upon. Sandro also added his own personal scent of death to the new creatures and concentrated it in their "breath".

No amount of air freshener will help the hero who faces Sandro's nightmares, as he so cleverly called them, as the strength of their breath rivals that of the mighty gorgon, often bringing death instantly to even the mightiest of beasts. Indeed, so strong is the stench that sometimes even those standing behind the initial creature will be struck down, and no amount of breath mints will allay the damage done.

Sandro finds this all to be a fine joke, of course, and he loves to regale his acquaintances with his tale of creation. Not at parties, since the invites keep not coming for those, but at the local necromancer's guild meetings, or, better yet, at the Annual Deadies banquet. Everyone cackles with glee and tries not to lose his or her jaw bone in the process, as that can be quite embarrassing, even for one who already has no life, social or otherwise.