Intelligent nocturnal undead driven by their thirst for blood, vampires are obsessed with and pained by the memories of their sunlit mortal days. Most vampires are burned by sunlight, though others have different weaknesses.

Twisted Hunters. It’s said that the first vampires were nobles cursed for their cruelty to their subjects, and indeed vampirism is often an affliction of the upper class. Vampires’ former dalliances and elegant pastimes become twisted obsessions tainted by their constant hunger for blood. A vampire may stalk the empty halls of the castle it once ruled, or hunt the mortal it once loved, seeking shreds of the emotions it once felt. A very few vampires resist their urge to prey on mortals and become stern protectors of the world that fears them.

Blood Bonds. True vampires are intensely aware of the blood bond that links them with the vampire that created them, an undead lineage that may stretch back centuries.

Resting Place. Every vampire’s lair contains a resting place, usually a coffin or sarcophagus, where the vampire must rest for at least an hour each day to recuperate its powers. This resting place is sprinkled with soil from its mortal homeland. If this soil is scattered or is subjected to a bless , hallow , or similar spell, the vampire is destroyed when reduced to 0 hit points.

Titans are towering demigods with divine blood coursing through their veins. Whereas titanic creatures like the kraken and tarrasque were employed as weapons by the gods, true titans are the scions of the gods: semi-divine figures often disavowed for the parts they played in ancient tragedies.

Relics of the Past. Mortal history does not record what happened in the days when titans walked the earth, but clues can be found in ancient myths. In some stories, titans ruled the Material Plane with the gods’ favor. In others, the titans’ feuds and betrayals embroiled the gods in catastrophic wars that threatened the divine order. In any case, titans have all but vanished from the mortal world. A few still govern astral fiefdoms on behalf of their divine parents. Others are imprisoned in the mythical palaces they once ruled, now sunk beneath the sea or swallowed by immense dungeon complexes.

Dangerous Prisoners. Sometimes ancient prisons are breached by earthquakes or the reckless interference of adventurers, and a titan awakens and walks the earth again. Many titans have no ambition beyond destruction. Others wish to take up their crowns and rule, sweeping aside the works of mortals and ushering in a new age of titans.

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

Skeletons are fleshless corpses imbued by necromantic energies with a mockery of life. Most often, spellcasters create skeletons to act as guards and servants, but it’s not unheard of for skeletons to arise from cursed grounds where the living are outnumbered by the unburied dead.

Following Orders. Skeletons follow their creators’ instructions to the best of their limited ability. They understand language and can follow detailed instructions, but their ability to think independently is limited. If ordered to cross a dangerous river, a skeleton may take a detour to use a bridge. In the absence of a bridge, however, it will risk a dangerous swim rather than build a raft or search for a safe place to cross.

Shreds of Memory. If left to its own devices, a skeleton without orders may mimic habitual activities from its previous life. A skeleton will abandon such pursuits to attack living creatures, unless it has been specifically ordered otherwise.

Undead Nature. A skeleton doesn’t require air, sustenance, or sleep.

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.