Ythéra Remnant

Medium Aberration (Extraplanar, Shadow)

Hit Dice: 8d8+8 (44 hp)
Initiative: +6
Speed: 30 ft. (6 squares), glide 20 ft. (perfect)
Armor Class: 18 (+2 Dex, +6 deflection), touch 18, flat-footed 16
Base Attack/Grapple: +6/+6
Attack: Touch of Reduction +8 melee touch (see text)
Full Attack: Touch of Reduction +8 melee touch
Space/Reach: 5 ft./5 ft.
Special Attacks: touch of reduction, partial phasing, unraveling gaze, shadow genesis
Special Qualities: damage reduction 5/magic, incorporeal instability, shadow affinity, reduction resilience, spell resistance 16
Saves: Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +9
Abilities: Str —, Dex 15, Con 12, Int 14, Wis 17, Cha 18
Skills: Concentration +12, Hide +17, Knowledge (the planes) +13, Listen +14, Move Silently +17, Spot +14
Feats: Ability Focus (touch of reduction), Improved Initiative, Weapon Finesse
Environment: Shadow Plane or Ythéra ruins (particularly eastern bayous)
Organization: Solitary or pair
Challenge Rating: 6
Treasure: None
Alignment: Usually neutral
Advancement: 9–12 HD (Medium)
Level Adjustment: —

A Ythéra Remnant appears as a vaguely humanoid silhouette whose edges refuse to remain fixed. Its form seems to thin and thicken depending on the angle of observation, as though portions of it are being quietly removed and then imperfectly restored. Its shadow does not remain bound beneath it, but instead drifts with subtle independence, occasionally lagging behind or anticipating movement in ways that unsettle even experienced observers.

These beings are not undead, though they are often mistaken for such by those encountering them for the first time. They are the incomplete result of the Ythéra’s final transformation, entities that have undergone significant reduction without fully passing beyond material existence. They exist in a state of tension, partially anchored to reality while simultaneously drawn toward Shadow, and this instability defines both their abilities and their presence.

Touch of Reduction (Su): A Ythéra Remnant’s touch does not deal conventional damage. Instead, a successful melee touch attack forces the target to succeed on a DC 16 Fortitude save or suffer 1d4 points of ability damage to Strength or Dexterity (chosen by the Remnant). If a creature is reduced to 0 Strength by this effect, it collapses into a thin, unmoving silhouette and dies at the end of its next turn. In addition, the target takes a –1 penalty on attack rolls and skill checks for 1 minute as portions of their physical capability are subtly removed. This is a supernatural effect. The save DC is Charisma-based.

Shadow Genesis (Su): Any living creature slain by a Ythéra Remnant rises as a standard Shadow (MM p. 221) in 1d4 rounds. The newly created Shadow is not under the Remnant’s control, but it remains within the area, drawn to the same subtle currents of reduction that birthed it. These Shadows often behave erratically, as though influenced by something beyond simple hunger.

Partial Phasing (Su): As a move action, a Ythéra Remnant may partially shift into Shadow, gaining a 20% miss chance against all attacks for 3 rounds. During this time, its form becomes indistinct and blurred, as though parts of it no longer fully occupy the same space as the attacker.

Unraveling Gaze (Su): Once every 1d4 rounds, the Remnant may fix its attention upon a single creature within 30 feet. The target must succeed on a DC 17 Will save or take a –2 penalty to Will saves and Concentration checks for 5 rounds as their thoughts are subtly diminished and simplified. Creatures that fail this save twice within 24 hours also suffer mild perceptual erosion, taking a –1 penalty on Spot and Listen checks for the same duration.

Incorporeal Instability (Ex): A Ythéra Remnant is not fully incorporeal, but its body is partially reduced. It takes only half damage from nonmagical weapons, and magical weapons deal full damage. Force effects and ghost touch weapons affect it normally. It cannot pass through solid objects, but may move across surfaces with unnatural ease, as though friction itself has been diminished.

Shadow Affinity (Ex): Within areas of dim light or shadowy illumination, a Ythéra Remnant gains a +2 bonus to AC and saving throws. In bright light, it takes a –1 penalty on attack rolls and saving throws, as its form becomes more defined and less stable.

Reduction Resilience (Ex): The Remnant is immune to ability drain and death effects. It has already lost too much of itself for such effects to fully apply.

A Ythéra Remnant does not behave like a predator in the traditional sense. It does not hunt for sustenance, nor does it display overt aggression unless disturbed. Instead, it drifts through environments touched by Shadow, interacting with the world in subtle and often unsettling ways. Objects may feel lighter or less substantial after its passing, and those who encounter it frequently report a lingering sense that something has been taken, though they cannot identify what.

Combat with a Ythéra Remnant is disorienting rather than overtly lethal. It favors brief engagements, applying its reduction effects before withdrawing, often slipping partially into Shadow to avoid retaliation. It rarely fights to the death, not out of self-preservation in the usual sense, but because its existence is already tenuous, and prolonged conflict risks further destabilization.

Scholars who have studied these entities believe them to be the remnants of individuals who advanced far along the Ythéra path but failed to complete the final transition. They are neither alive nor dead, neither fully present nor entirely gone, and in their incomplete state they embody the central tragedy of their kind: the attempt to refine existence beyond the point at which anything meaningful remains.

—

Greater Ythéra Remnant
Medium Aberration (Extraplanar, Shadow)
Hit Dice: 10d8+20 (65 hp)
Initiative: +7
Speed: 30 ft. (6 squares), glide 30 ft. (perfect)
Armor Class: 20 (+3 Dex, +7 deflection), touch 20, flat-footed 17
Base Attack/Grapple: +7/+7
Attack: Touch of Reduction +10 melee touch
Full Attack: Touch of Reduction +10 melee touch
Space/Reach: 5 ft./5 ft.
Special Attacks: touch of reduction, partial phasing, unraveling gaze, subtractive field, shadow genesis
Special Qualities: damage reduction 10/magic, incorporeal instability, shadow affinity, reduction resilience, spell resistance 18
Saves: Fort +5, Ref +6, Will +11
Abilities: Str —, Dex 17, Con 14, Int 15, Wis 18, Cha 20
Skills: Concentration +15, Hide +19, Knowledge (the planes) +15, Listen +16, Move Silently +19, Spot +16
Feats: Ability Focus (touch of reduction), Improved Initiative, Weapon Finesse, Dodge
Environment: Shadow Plane or Ythéra ruins
Organization: Solitary
Challenge Rating: 8
Treasure: None
Alignment: Usually neutral
Advancement: 11–14 HD (Medium)
Level Adjustment: —

Subtractive Field (Su): A Greater Ythéra Remnant constantly emits a 10-foot-radius aura in which reality is subtly diminished. Creatures within the area take a –1 penalty on all rolls, and light sources are reduced in effectiveness by half. This is a continuous supernatural effect.

Shadow Genesis (Su): Any living creature slain by a Greater Ythéra Remnant rises as a standard Shadow (MM p. 221) in 1d4 rounds. These Shadows manifest more coherently than those created by lesser Remnants and gain a +2 bonus on attack rolls for 1 minute after forming, as though briefly aligned with the reducing force that created them.

The Greater Remnants represent those who came closest to completing the Ythéra transformation without fully disappearing. Their presence is more pronounced, and the distortion of reality around them is correspondingly stronger. In their proximity, the world feels thinner, quieter, and less certain, as though it were on the verge of yielding to something that cannot be seen but is nonetheless present.

These entities rarely move with purpose in any conventional sense, yet their presence is often felt before they are seen, and their passing leaves behind an impression that is difficult to articulate but impossible to ignore. In them, one glimpses not merely the fate of a people, but the consequence of a truth pursued beyond the limits of what can be endured.

L’Attrape-Sang - The Blood Catcher

L’Attrape-Sang (Opabinia Rexalis)

Medium Aberration
Hit Dice: 4d8+8 (26 hp)
Initiative: +3
Speed: 20 ft. (4 squares), swim 40 ft.
AC: 16 (+3 Dex, +3 natural), touch 13, flat-footed 13
Base Attack/Grapple: +3/+5
Attack: Proboscis claw +6 melee (1d6+2 plus blood drain)
Full Attack: Proboscis claw +6 melee (1d6+2 plus blood drain)
Space/Reach: 5 ft./10 ft. (proboscis)
Special Attacks: Blood drain, improved grab
Special Qualities: Amphibious, low-light vision, chameleon submersion, all-around vision
Saves: Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +5
Abilities: Str 14, Dex 17, Con 14, Int 2, Wis 13, Cha 6
Skills: Hide +11 (+15 underwater), Listen +6, Spot +10, Swim +10
Feats: Weapon Finesse, Alertness
Environment: Warm marshes and bayous
Organization: Solitary, pair, or cluster (3–6)
Challenge Rating: 3
Treasure: None
Alignment: Always neutral
Advancement: 5–8 HD (Medium); 9–12 HD (Large)
Level Adjustment: —

An Opabinia Rexalis is a sinuous, three-foot-long aberration whose segmented body undulates with a soft, almost petal-like rhythm beneath the water’s surface. Its most striking feature is the cluster of five glossy, bead-like eyes arranged across its head, each moving independently, granting it a constant awareness of its surroundings. Extending from beneath these eyes is a long, flexible proboscis ending in a small but vicious grasping claw, capable of snapping shut with unsettling precision. Along its sides, soft lateral lobes ripple gently, aiding in its eerie, silent locomotion through still water.

The creature’s dorsal surface is lined with delicate gill structures that fan outward like pale fronds, filtering oxygen even in stagnant, low-quality water. Its coloration is naturally mottled - pale pinks, muted reds, and swampy greens - but when submerged, its flesh subtly shifts hue and opacity, blending almost perfectly with the murky environment. When still, it becomes nearly impossible to detect, appearing as nothing more than a distortion in the water or a trick of the light.

Opabinia Rexalis are ambush predators. They prefer to remain motionless just beneath the surface, their bodies aligned with submerged roots or driftwood. When prey approaches - whether a fish, animal, or unwary humanoid - the creature lashes out with its proboscis, seizing flesh and anchoring itself with surprising strength. Once attached, it begins to feed, drawing blood through a specialized channel within its appendage while maintaining its grip with the clawed tip.

Despite their alien anatomy, these creatures are not overtly aggressive unless provoked or hungry. They rely on patience rather than pursuit, often allowing potential prey to pass if the risk is deemed too high. However, in areas where they gather in clusters, their behavior becomes more opportunistic, and multiple individuals may converge on a single target, creating a sudden and horrifying feeding frenzy beneath otherwise calm waters.

Lore

Little is recorded of Opabinia Rexalis in formal scholarship, largely because early accounts were dismissed outright. Initial sketches, often produced by isolated naturalists or delirious explorers, were ridiculed for their implausibility - five eyes, a grasping feeding limb, a body plan that defied accepted anatomical logic. These reports were quietly shelved or outright destroyed, labeled as exaggeration or madness.

It was only when physical specimens were recovered - some preserved, others violently alive - that the academic world was forced to reconsider. Even then, acceptance came grudgingly. Many scholars attempted to reinterpret the creature within known biological frameworks, often downplaying or ignoring its more unsettling features. A few, however, recognized it for what it represented: a living contradiction to the assumed boundaries of natural design.

In the bayous and lowlands, local populations have long known of the creature, though under different names. It is sometimes called the “Stillwater Clutch” or “Five-Eyed Leech,” and is associated with disappearances in shallow waters. Stories describe it as a patient watcher, something that sees from all directions at once, waiting for the moment when movement betrays the living.

More troubling are the rarer accounts suggesting that Opabinia Rexalis may not be entirely natural to the current age. Some believe it to be a remnant of an older world, a creature whose design predates the modern order of life. Others whisper that it emerges more frequently in places where reality is thin - where the boundaries between what is and what was begin to blur.

Kelwyn’s Notes

Ah… yes. This one. I recall, with uncomfortable clarity, the first time I encountered its likeness - not in the flesh, you understand, but inked hastily across a page that bore all the hallmarks of a mind under quiet siege. Five eyes, a reaching limb, a creature assembled as though nature had briefly forgotten her own rules. I confess, I dismissed it. Not out of arrogance, I think - but out of necessity. One cannot afford to believe everything one sees in ink.

And yet, here it is. Not merely real, but consistent. The same structure, the same absurdities, repeated across accounts separated by geography, culture, and time. This is not invention - it is persistence. I have since uncovered references to such organisms in documents that should not exist, attributed to expeditions into places that are now… conspicuously absent. Entire bodies of study, orphaned of origin. It leads one to an unsettling hypothesis: that this creature does not belong to our world in the way we assume most life does, but is instead a survivor - or perhaps an exile - from a place that no longer exists at all.

Among those few who have encountered it and lived, there is a peculiar commonality in their accounts. Not merely fear - though there is plenty of that - but a deeper disturbance, a quiet unraveling. They speak of it as something that remembers being elsewhere, as though its presence alone carries the weight of a place that should no longer be. Those who study it too closely tend toward obsession, and in time, a certain resignation - as though they have glimpsed a truth they cannot comfortably return from.

I do not believe this species is native to our reality. There are whispers - fragments, scattered and half-erased - suggesting that an entire dimension was deliberately unmade in an effort to eradicate organisms of this design. If that is so, then this creature represents not merely a curiosity, but a failure. A remnant that slipped through whatever curtain was drawn to end its kind. That it is now unbelievably rare offers little comfort. Rarity, after all, is not the same as safety.

It is tempting to call such a thing an error. I would advise against it. Errors do not survive the death of their own world. Errors do not endure, adapt, and wait in silence beneath still water. No… this is something that was meant to exist - somewhere. And now, quite inconveniently… it exists here.

Gullet of the Blackwater

“When the water swallows sound, it has already chosen you.”

Size/Type: Huge Aberration (Aquatic)
Hit Dice: 12d8+60 (114 hp)
Initiative: +2
Speed: 20 ft., swim 40 ft.
Armor Class: 21 (-2 size, +2 Dex, +11 natural); touch 10; flat-footed 19
Base Attack/Grapple: +9 / +21
Attack: Bite +16 melee (2d8+8 plus improved grab)
Full Attack: Bite +16 melee (2d8+8 plus improved grab) and tail slap +11 melee (2d6+4)
Space/Reach: 15 ft. / 10 ft.
Special Attacks: Death Roll (Ex), Drowning Grasp (Ex), Maddening Chitter (Su), Ambush Predator (Ex)
Special Qualities: Darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, amphibious, scent, Aberrant Mind (Ex), Swamp Camouflage (Ex)
Saves: Fort +9, Ref +6, Will +11
Abilities: Str 26, Dex 14, Con 20, Int 5, Wis 16, Cha 12
Skills: Hide +6 (+14 swamp), Listen +12, Spot +12, Swim +16
Feats: Alertness, Improved Initiative, Power Attack, Multiattack, Skill Focus (Hide)
Environment: Warm marshes and blackwater swamps
Organization: Solitary or pair
Challenge Rating: 10
Treasure: Standard (in lair or submerged remains)
Alignment: Usually neutral evil
Advancement: 13–18 HD (Huge); 19–24 HD (Gargantuan)
Level Adjustment: —

Special Attacks

Death Roll (Ex): When the Gullet of the Blackwater successfully establishes a grapple after a bite, it may violently twist its body, dealing an additional 2d8+12 points of damage. The victim must succeed on a DC 21 Fortitude save or be stunned for 1 round as bones wrench and joints tear under the force.

Drowning Grasp (Ex): In water or deep mud, the creature instinctively drags grappled prey downward. Victims must hold their breath or begin drowning and take a –4 penalty on grapple checks while submerged in the creature’s crushing hold.

Maddening Chitter (Su): The Gullet emits a wet, rapid chittering - part rodent, part something profoundly unnatural. All creatures within 30 feet must succeed on a DC 17 Will save or become shaken for 1d6 rounds. Creatures already shaken instead become confused for 1 round. This is a mind-affecting fear effect.

Ambush Predator (Ex): When submerged in murky water, mud, or dense swamp vegetation, the Gullet of the Blackwater gains total concealment until it attacks. A DC 20 Spot check is required to notice it before it strikes.

Special Qualities

Aberrant Mind (Ex): The creature’s warped instincts make it immune to charm and compulsion effects, but its fractured perception leaves it vulnerable to deception, imposing a –2 penalty on saving throws against illusions.

Swamp Camouflage (Ex): The Gullet gains a +8 racial bonus on Hide checks in swamp terrain and may attempt to hide even while being observed, provided it has some form of natural cover such as reeds, floating debris, or mud.

Description

The Gullet of the Blackwater is not a simple fusion of creatures - it is a grotesque reconciliation of prey and predator into a single, deeply unnatural form. Its massive body stretches between twelve and fifteen feet in length, thick with sinewy muscle beneath a patchwork of coarse, waterlogged fur and ridged, armored scales that run along its spine and tail.

Its head is the most disturbing aspect of its form. The blunt, whiskered snout of a swamp rodent splits far wider than nature should allow, revealing layered rows of jagged, interlocking teeth. Prominent yellow incisors jut forward at uneven angles, cracked and worn from gnawing through bone as easily as root. Its small, glistening eyes never seem to focus properly, twitching and shifting as though tracking movements beyond mortal perception.

Its tail is long and muscular, capable of explosive bursts of motion, while its forelimbs retain a disturbing degree of dexterity - almost grasping, almost deliberate. The rear limbs remain splayed and powerful, perfectly suited for sudden lunges through water or sucking mud.

When still, it is nearly indistinguishable from the swamp itself - a mound of debris, a half-sunken carcass, or a tangle of roots. When it moves, it does so with shocking speed and absolute violence.

Lore

The origins of the Gullet of the Blackwater are unknown, and those who claim certainty are rarely trusted. Some scholars insist it is the byproduct of swamp magic left to rot - rituals meant to bind opposing forces of nature that instead birthed something that embodies both hunger and fear.

Others believe it to be an answer from the swamp itself. Where invasive creatures spread unchecked and apex predators grow too dominant, the land reshapes them into a single, terrible correction. The Gullet does not merely hunt to feed - it consumes as if driven by a deeper, balancing instinct.

Among the people who live near blackwater marshes, the creature is rarely named outright. Instead, warnings are passed in quiet phrases: to never trust still water, to leave when the insects fall silent, to avoid places where the surface seems too thick, too unmoving. Survivors often describe a single shared sensation before an attack - a suffocating stillness, as if the swamp itself has drawn a breath and refuses to release it.

More unsettling are the stories that speak of those who are taken and returned. Broken, waterlogged, and alive, they wander in delirium for days before disappearing back into the marsh. Whether this is some instinctual behavior, territorial marking, or a sign of something more deliberate is a question no one has answered - and few are willing to ask twice.