Plants, Possessors, & People
Amadans: In the fields and forests that surround the Institute, many dangers await the intrepid traveler. One such creature is the amadan, small in stature and grotesque to behold, the amadan stands no more than nine inches tall and resembles a lump of moss and dirt. They seem to be cast from the same mold as gnomes, their beady green eyes and gaping mouths the only indication of life until they move. While toothless and clawless, they should not be underestimated. One touch of their moss-like bodies against bare skin causes instant paralysis, lasting from a few moments to hours depending on the length of contact.
Once it has been immobilized, amadans will gather around and lick their prey, coating it in a layer of saliva. The saliva contains a powerful digestive enzyme that begins breaking down skin on contact, allowing the toothless amadans to feed on the liquefied tissue. It takes several hours for even a group of several amadans to finish feeding on a single human, but as they prefer to start on limbs, their prey can remain aware and paralyzed for some time during the process.
Lurchers: Like things spawned from the depths of a mad scientist's imagination, these beasts look as though they are the missing link between man and ape. They stand upright on two legs, but their backs are hunched and twisted. Their bodies are covered in thick black hair, wiry and matted and clumped. Their heads hang low between their massive shoulders, their eyes are yellow and their lipless mouths hide jagged, yellowed fangs. Beware the meaty fists, thick as a man's head and carrying behind them the creature's full weight.
Lurchers are best left to skilled fighters in groups of three or more. Anyone else should try to outrun them before they can stampede you or throw you off a high balcony. But should one find themselves facing off against these creatures, a good strategy is to distract with light or to go for the eyes. While a lurcher's hide is tough and covered in hair, their eyes and ears are very sensitive, used to living in darkness for so long.
Will 'o' Wisps: The dangers of the hospital extend into the surrounding wilderness. Should a clever patient escape the outer walls, the dangers have not ended. If one hears the sound of a town and lights in the distance, they will find themselves at the hospital's doors if they pursue it. Will’o’wisps lead escaped patients astray with hints and promises of civilization, safety, or sometimes even a person in need of aid. While they are prone to leading patients into worse situations - such as luring them far from a path and then disappearing, leaving them to find their own way out through the dangerous surroundings - some have also been known to lead their followers to favourable areas or hidden prizes, making encounters with them something of a gamble.
Up close, these creatures are nothing more than blurry balls of light. They do no harm and have no substance.
Cowage: In the forest, nestled between innocuous plants and flowers, something evil lurks. Tall, narrow stalks covered in fine spikes rise up from a bed of pointed fronds. They're topped with angry looking red flowers. By day, these are but harmless plants. By night, they feast for meat. Fronds turn to gripping limbs, their spikes laced with a mild poison that weakens their prey. The poison they release through their spikes is topical, and the effects are mild. A slight woozy sensation and the feeling as though arms and legs are falling asleep accompany the poison. They cannot cut or tear, but the can crush and weaken.
Luckily, they are rooted to one place.
Wendigo: Unseen, heralded only by a sudden increase in storm-like winds, the wendigo is a dangerous foe. In its intangible form, it is impossible to defeat. It possesses the unwary, turning them to ravenous, cannibalistic beasts. They can be driven from the afflicted by the simple act of calling the possessed’s name, and when driven revert to their true form.
Their true form is that of an emaciated human, skin grayed and stretched to the point of near tearing. Their eyes are black, they have no lips, and their limbs are skeletal and brittle. Their skin tears easily and their bones break with little effort, but they are stubborn and will not cease attacking until dead.
In this form, they attempt to feast themselves. They seek to grab their prey and tear them apart with their teeth.
Huntsmen: Truly the most dangerous of the creatures that threaten beyond the walls of the institute are the Huntsmen. Monstrous beasts of men, like undead Gladiators of ancient Rome, seated upon skeletal steeds. Unlike other creatures in the Institute, the huntsmen are smart, strong, and skilled in both weapons and hand-to-hand combat techniques. They wear leather armor, blackened with age and dried blood, and have either bow and arrow or a short sword at their disposal. At their belts hang the pelts and skins of things they have hunted before and, for the more experienced huntsmen, there are occasionally human heads, although the faces are unrecognizable to anyone. Their skin is tanned and their eyes are black and red, their muscled bodies show little deterioration, but their nails are yellowed, pointed and cracked. The huntsmen cannot speak in human tongues, but in what sounds like an old demonic language, garbled and indistinguishable even to the most talented of linguists. Those who listen close may hear snippets of Latin, but most is unrecognizable as language.
Before them goes a brace of demonic hounds, baying and screaming on the trail of escaped patients. When the huntsmen rides, the nightmare spreads horrors and illusions designed to confuse the prey while the hounds take them down or pin them for the huntsman to come and kill. These creatures exist to capture and return, or kill if necessary, those lucky enough to have made it beyond the walls. They can be killed, but it is difficult, and man, horse and hounds are all separate creatures that must be dealt with.