Natives of the Elemental Plane of Fire, salamanders are sinuous, snake-like beings with glowing yellow eyes and beaked faces. On their home plane, they are stern mercenaries and joyless crafters, but salamanders let loose on the Material Plane become giddy and playful.

Size Equals Status. Salamanders increase in size as the age, with the largest ruling as domineering tyrants. They relish wielding power over creatures smaller than them, and serve larger creatures resentfully. Salamanders begin life as two-foot-diameter, obsidian-shelled eggs, which their parents abandon in magma pools to gestate. Salamander nymphs, also known as fire snakes, are wild and independent of salamander society. If a nymph survives its first year, it matures into an adult, and finally joins the lowest ranks of salamander society.

Living Forges. Salamanders generate intense heat, burning anything within close proximity. Salamanders are able to heat and shape metal with their bare hands, and those that dedicate themselves to metalcraft count themselves among the finest smiths in the multiverse.

Sahuagin are aquatic humanoids with a strong resemblance to—and affinity for—sharks. They  cannot survive long out of water, but in their native environment they are formidable indeed. Those who travel the world’s oceans ignore sahuagin at their peril.

Undersea Marvels. Sahuagin have overcome technological obstacles that some of their undersea neighbors have found insurmountable. They learned of metalsmithing from surface-dwellers centuries ago and have since established their own forges in undersea caves and on islands in waters they control. They have also developed a written language, which they carve into tablets of soft stone. With writing has come cartography, history, and magical traditions. Their religion is focused around a well-developed pantheon of undersea deities, with the shark god most revered of all.

Always Moving. Sahuagin typically follow sea currents, demanding tribute from ships and seaside communities along their route. Those who do not pay can count on being raided, but those who do find that the shark-folk may come to their aid in a crisis.

Consistent as the Tide. Sahuagin believe they own the seas, and disagreeing with them is dangerous. They are loyal, disciplined warriors, and they keep careful records of anyone who gives them trouble. They take umbrage with those who would magically alter the currents they follow, which occasionally brings them into conflict with storm giants and other powerful magical beings. However, those who work with the sahuagin, rather than against them, find them dependable. Sahuagin place considerable value on upholding one’s end of a deal, be it an employment contract, a trade agreement, or a personal promise.

Oozes thrive in the deep, dark, and dank places of the world. Shapeless blobs capable of squeezing through even the narrowest spaces, they are mindless scavengers that dissolve metal and organic matter to fuel their strange metabolisms.

Multipliers. Oozes have no organs or internal structure of any kind. Split in half, each piece of an ooze can grow into an independent organism. Even a bit of ooze stuck to an adventurer’s boot can eventually grow into a new ooze, devouring the boot and the adventurer as well. Scorching an ooze’s remains with fire, or exposing it to sunlight, are the surest ways of wiping it out permanently.

Thrive in Darkness. Oozes need little to survive. Unlike plants, they don’t require air, and sunlight shrivels them. They don’t need water to grow, although they can swim through it as easily as they crawl over dry land. All an ooze needs is organic matter or ferrous metal, and it can survive without much of either. When trapped in a pit or passageway it can’t escape from, an ooze can serve as a tireless custodian and watchdog. Immaculately clean stone passageways are a sure sign that an ooze is nearby, and hungry.

Standing some 10 feet tall and weighing nearly 1,000 pounds, ogres look like massive, barrelchested humanoids with wide, fanged jaws.

Lost Greatness. Ogres are the descendants of giants forced out of their elementally-infused homes. Though now far removed from their giant ancestors, ogre tribes still remember the calamitous fall of the giants’ empire, and their stories warn against venturing too much or building too high.

Subsistence and Service. Ogres do not boast great craftspeople amongst them: they do not need to, since trees and rocks make serviceable weapons, and their skin is as tough as armor. However, promises of wealth and luxury can coax an ogre into service. For enough gold, an ogre will fight for a master far smaller or weaker than itself.

In remote corners across the world, nagas guard repositories of arcane knowledge and religious wisdom. Though the culture that created them is lost to time, nagas refuse to abandon the ancient libraries, temples, and tombs entrusted to them millennia ago.

Eternally Bound. Every naga was created as a custodian for a site of scholarly or spiritual significance. Powerful magic binds a naga to the place it was meant to protect, preventing it from forsaking its duty. Even if a naga dies, its spirit eventually returns to the mortal world in a new body. If the site it is bound to protect is ever destroyed, the naga is driven mad by its failure.

Undying Bonds. Nagas are solitary creatures, but they possess a supernatural sense of the comings and goings of their kin. They recognize each other by name and know the locations they safeguard. Over the centuries, affections or rivalries may develop between nagas, even if they never meet each other face to face. When a naga dies or stumbles in its duty, all nagas weep—or rejoice, depending on their relationship with the naga in question.

Immortal Nature. A naga doesn’t require air, sustenance, or sleep.

Aquatic humanoids with the torsos of humans and the tails of fish, merfolk build societies beneath the waves that few land-dwellers ever encounter. Most merfolk keep to the shallows, where light still filters through the water to mark the passage of time. Others, braver or stranger than their coastal cousins, venture into the ocean’s lightless depths.

Far-Flung Kingdoms. Merfolk kingdoms span the globe, and their citizens are as varied in culture and appearance as other humanoids. Their skin can be as many colors as a tropical fish.

Although they sometimes salvage metal from shipwrecks, merfolk rarely use metal in their clothing, jewelry, or tools. Instead, they clothe themselves in seaweed, fish scales, and shells, and use bones, carved coral, and sand-glass for tools. Similarly, they have little use for the writing implements of land-dwellers, relying instead on a capacious oral tradition that extends farther back than most written histories.

A lycanthrope is a humanoid who transforms into an animal during the full moon. In animal form, a lycanthrope (also called a were) appears to be simply a large, powerful example of its species. Its eyes, however, betray its humanoid intelligence.

Viewed separately as a disease, a curse, a blessing, or a bloodline, lycanthropy is spread through the bites of lycanthropes or from a parent to child at birth. The most common varieties of lycanthropes are werebears , wereboars , wererats , weretigers , and werewolves .

The Curse of Lycanthropy. Any humanoid bitten by a lycanthrope in its animal or hybrid form can contract lycanthropy. Lycanthropy inflicted in this way can be cured with a remove curse spell, but a person born a lycanthrope is one by nature, and only a wish spell can remove the curse.

On the night of the first full moon after being bitten (or, for a natural lycanthrope, upon reaching young adulthood), a person involuntarily changes into an animal. This transformation is painful and draining, leaving the afflicted hungry, unable to speak, and often confused and frightened. During the transformation, a lycanthrope’s thoughts are filled with predatory instincts. Many newly changed lycanthropes attack others out of hunger or fear. Others surrender to their bestial natures, reveling in the hunt and the kill.

Mastering the Affliction. As with any skill, mastering lycanthropy takes practice. A new lycanthrope must first learn to control their actions while in animal form. With work, they eventually develop the ability to transform at will, except during the dark of the new moon. Experienced lycanthropes can take a half-humanoid, half-animal form, and rumors exist of alpha lycanthropes who have developed their talents even further.

Some weres shun their curse rather than seeking to master it. Fearing the harm they may do to others, they lock themselves away or lose themselves in the wilderness, especially during the full moon.

Whether a blessing or a curse, lycanthropy comes to dominate a creature’s life. Even in humanoid form, a lycanthrope’s mind is prey to bestial thoughts. A lycanthrope is defined by whether they resist or succumb to these temptations.

Wolfsbane. Lycanthropes are repelled by the wolfsbane flower. A lycanthrope in hybrid or beast form is poisoned while within 10 feet of a living or dried wolfsbane flower that it can smell. If wolfsbane is applied to a weapon or ammunition, lycanthropes are damaged by the weapon as if it were silver. An application of wolfsbane lasts for 1 hour.

Kobolds are small, reptilian humanoids that blend the features of large dogs and tiny, wingless dragons. While many live in the lairs of the dragons they revere, others dwell in trap-ridden warrens far underground.

Draconic Servitors. Kobolds feel both an awe of and kinship with dragons. Many dragons extend protection to their distant kobold cousins, accepting in return the flattery, adulation, and service they believe all creatures owe them. Kobold servitors resent a dragon’s other minions, fearful of the day the dragon no longer values their devotion.

Kobolds share many characteristics with dragons. They hatch from eggs with an instinct to hoard treasures and trinkets. Like dragons, kobolds enjoy long lifespans. With all the dangers that assail them, though, few kobolds see the natural end of their 100- to 150-year lifespans.

Proud and Territorial. Smaller and weaker than most sentient species, individual kobolds make easy prey for predators. A kobold community without a dragon patron must rely on stealth, traps, and sheer numbers to survive.

Most kobolds live in underground warrens far from the sunlight. Often, these warrens are extensions of existing structures such as dungeons, sewers, and natural caverns. As skilled miners with a dragon-like fondness for shiny things, kobolds often move into abandoned mines (or chase the miners out of working ones). Kobolds modify their lairs to their advantage, using low ceilings, cunning traps, and narrow passages to hinder the movement of invaders. Kobolds prefer to fight from a distance and with overwhelming numbers.

Bigger and stronger creatures often find kobolds contemptible at best, and raid and slaughter them at worst. When the tables are turned, kobolds rarely forgive those who have bullied them, though sometimes flattering words or glittering offerings appease them. Any slight to their dignity enrages them. Kobolds believe that even the smallest relative of a dragon has royal blood coursing through its veins.

Khalkoi, more commonly known as mind wasps, are parasitic predators that feed on the cosmic principles of good and evil, law and chaos. They conquer reality after reality, leaving behind deserted heavens and dead gods as they rob worlds of divine magic.

A khalkos is humanoid in shape with an inexpressive wasp face. It is able to disguise itself psionically in order to infiltrate sacred or profane places, dooming them to destruction.

Parasitic Life Cycle. Khalkoi implant their larvae into the brains of intelligent creatures. A parasitized victim comes to see every khalkos as an ally to be trusted, and may even help a khalkos implant its eggs in other victims. When khalkos larvae are ready to be born, they burst from the skull of their host. As the headless victim collapses to the ground, the khalkos larvae—now independent khalkos spawn—fly away to search for new victims.

Although khalkos larvae can infect any intelligent creature, they prefer hosts that are cosmically aligned: archpriests and saints, angels and devils, and even gods. Khalkoi spawned from an aligned creature begin growing into adult khalkoi immediately, reaching maturity in a few days. Khalkoi that hatch from unaligned creatures must consume many humanoid victims, over a period of months or years, before they mature.

Existential Threat. A khalkos can sense cosmic power as a spider senses a tremor in its webs. The battles of warring pantheons, or mighty deeds performed by celestial or fiendish champions, can attract their attention to a heretofore-overlooked planar realm.

Usually, only a single khalkos travels to a newly discovered world. With mastermind intelligence and mind-clouding psionic powers, it infiltrates a temple or cult. Finally, it targets a divinely-empowered priest or minor fiend, hijacking its body to serve as the breeding ground for its eggs. Soon, one khalkos becomes a swarm of khalkoi that immediately set their sights on bigger game.

Fight or Flight. A few worlds have successfully fought off a khalkos invasion. To win such a war, powerful cosmic entities must be aided by unaligned heroes: warriors, spellcasters, and other adventurers who don’t inherit their power from cosmic principles but who are willing to fight for them nonetheless.

Other worlds have survived the khalkos threat by avoiding detection. Some dimensions have constructed vast psychic barriers or concluded divine treaties to limit the power of deities and fiends. If these magical protections are violated, such worlds risk unwelcome attention.

The history of hobgoblins is that of the rise and fall of empires. Time and again, hobgoblin armies have ridden forth to subjugate weaker civilizations beyond their borders. Only the collective opposition of rival nations (efforts usually led by elves) has prevented hobgoblins from conquering the world. The ruins of great hobgoblin empires now litter the landscape, with each new generation struggling to reclaim the glory of its predecessors.

Physically, hobgoblins resemble tall, brawny humanoids with pointed ears and fanged teeth. Hobgoblin noses are often more brightly colored than their other features. Hobgoblins with brilliant red or blue noses typically hold positions of authority in hobgoblin society.

Excellence in Everything. Hobgoblins consider excellence the highest virtue. They prize hard-earned experience as much as innate talent, selecting leaders from those who have proven themselves most fit to rule. Because their culture is militaristic, hobgoblins value martial prowess, although aptitude in the arcane arts, religious devotion, or mastery of a trade are also respected to some degree. Even hobgoblins who pursue poetry or music might be admired, but only if their works celebrate the accomplishments of the culture as a whole.

Legion Above All. Hobgoblins divide their society into ancestral clans known as legions. Although superficially similar to military regiments, hobgoblin legions inspire even greater
loyalty from their members. A hobgoblin family might identify with the same legion for a dozen generations or more. Those who betray or fail their legion are either humiliated and exiled or publicly tortured and killed.

Monster Tamers. Hobgoblins believe that discipline sharpens passion into unwavering purpose. Nowhere is this conviction more evident than in the hobgoblin tradition of taming wild beasts. Hobgoblin beast-masters raise wolves, messenger birds, and even more exotic creatures, like mammoths or dinosaurs , to support their legions on the battlefield. Hobgoblins armies also incorporate bugbears and goblins into their ranks. These “lesser” goblinoids are often treated as only slightly cleverer than beasts. Nevertheless, a hobgoblin warlord can mold a mob of squabbling goblinoids into a cohesive fighting force.