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578. Electric Axolotl These tiny axolotl live only in brackish water, occupying saltwater swamps on the surface and in the deep seas of the Darklands. They usually have a blue and green countershaded appearance, and can sense nearby prey by their electrical fields (having otherwise poor vision). In addition, usually only once or twice per day, they can release a small electrical jolt, able to inflict at most a single point of electrical damage to someone touching them, but useful to stun the tiny fish, insects, mollusks and crustaceans that serve as their prey. They are highly sought after by Darkland races as their blood can be used as a component in healing potions, replacing the need for some of the commonly used plant components on the surface.
Rumors of vastly larger specimens, with correspondingly more powerful electrical discharges, inhabiting Azlanti ruins remain unconfirmed.
579. Spouse Spice- This garish looking pepperoncini-like plant is a popular ingredient in newlywed household meals or with shrewish partners. Once ground unto a powder and applied to a communal meal like a stew or something similar, it magically gives all who partake of it sympathetic taste buds, allowing then to "taste" what their partner is eating or drinking for about 3 hours after both ingest the meal. This allows for suspicious couples to spy upon what has been in their partners mouth by tasting it themselves even at a great distance, with all the drama and arguing that would normally follow an unpleasant(or unusually pleasant) taste in the back of one throat suddenly at off hours. Some vindictive- or paranoid- partners have been known to get a "spouse spice shot"- a combination of fires liquors and a dash of liquid hot pepper- for what is often humorously called a "cheaters copper" as the first(or last) beverage of the evening at a tavern.
580. Hush Money/Quiet Coin- These plain-looking seedpods are not particularly fuzzy and take well to dyeing, and hence are easy to slip into a pile of a few copper, silver, or gold, though not electrum or platinum- they cannot get thr sheen necessary for those. When disrupted or broken- easy to do when surrounded by metal coinage- the seedpod lets out a loud, distinctive snapping sound that is impossible to hide within a 10 foot radius- loud enough to wake up someone who is sound asleep, even someone under the effect of doze but not sleep. Best used when piles of money are in a normally quiet area, they are a favorite of poorer people who hoard coins but do not have the capital for a lockbox.
Eris reserves the right to grant cleric's hood plants turning power which detects 1-3 good, 4-6 evil determined randomly each round. Her holy symbol is of her draconequus form dancing.
583: Fauna deer
An otherwise normal deer that when it senses danger from hunters will stand and walk upright. It can even put on clothing. It cannot however speak human languages, use tools, gain class levels, ect.
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584. Sauna Deer
An otherwise normal deer that, when it senses danger, releases a cloud of steam from its pores and musk glands. This is a swift action and obscures vision as a 10-ft radius fog cloud. The cloud deals 1d6 fire damage per round to creatures entering or within it due to heat and steam (not actual fire). It is stationary like the fog cloud spell but the animal continues to emit it for a number of rounds equal to their hit dice (typically 2), even as they move. Since they typically do this before performing a run action to flee, this can lead to a long trail of steam clouds, especially if there's a family or herd startled. The cloud dissipates at a rate of 10 feet per round (meaning the trail can still be somewhat followed for observant characters waiting for it to fade). The round after they stop emitting steam, the sauna deer is fatigued and cannot emit steam again until it rests or removes the condition.Sauna deer have blindsense within steam, fog, clouds, and similar hazards and have fire resistance 10, but only to heat, steam, or other effects that deal fire damage, not to actual fire (such as the heat from being within 20 ft of a wall of fire but not from passing through it).
I like this one.
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584. Sauna Deer
Reminds me a bit of Greyhawk's Mist Wolves.
Which I will re-imagine here.
585. Mist Wolves.
These over-sized jackals (wolves is a somewhat generous name for hem...) are large and lanky, save for unusual bulges or 'humps' of fatty tissue above their shoulders, with coats in various shades of gray-white that blend in quite well with the mist they can generate once / day, if in an area with sufficient water. It takes them a round to fill a 5 ft. square with mist, and it continues to spread, adding another 5 ft. square for each round they pant heavily, with a single mist wolf being able to spread mist over up to 8 squares. This mist isn't as thick as the heavy mist of an obscuring mist or fog cloud spell, any only lingers for a single minute in areas that are not prone to them hanging around (arid, sunny, breezy, etc.). Those in the areas of mist treat all beyond 5 ft. as having partial concealment, except for mist wolves themselves, who are treated as having total concealment, thanks to the color and unusual properties of their coats. Mist wolves are also unaffected by the obscuring properties of their own mists, and treat other forms of mist as if they provided one step less concealment.
It is believed that mist wolves first developed in desert regions, and drew moisture from morning dew, through their special fur, and stored water like camels in the fatty bulges on their shoulders, but further developed the ability to pant out excess moisture when the breed moved into more temperate climes, where water was far more abundant.
Their fur loses it's mist-blending property soon after the creature's death, but, sadly, not it's water-absorbing qualities, such that wearing a cloak of mist wolf fur in rain or fog will very quickly result in the pet weighing up to 10 lbs. more, due to the water that has wicked up into the hollow hair follicles (and will never be absorbed by the skin beneath it, as that process ends with the death of the wolf). As a result, mist wolf cloaks are only worn on arid days (and kept locked away from damper night air) by the desert tribes of the region they once exclusively inhabited, perhaps serving to explain why they are now so much more common in wetter climes, far from their original habitat...
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586. Sky Gourds. These vines grow most prolifically at higher altitudes, where they can avoid shading by other plants, and often grow near the nesting sites of high-dwelling predators, being especially common in the Barrier Wall and Napsune Mountains of northern Garund, in areas frequented by giant eagles, griffons, drakes, manticores, heiracosphinxes and similar aerial predators. The vines have rootlets all along their length, fastening to sheer walls of rock, when necessary, and produce heavy yellow gourds that even the obligate carnivores of the region sometimes greedily eat for the proteins and nutrients (as well as moisture) that they contain, spreading their seeds in their droppings far and wide across not just the mountains, but their hunting grounds south of the Barrier Wall. Small groups of mountains folk, such as the Ekujae sect called 'the High Green,' consider sky gourds a staple, and are either loosely allied with local flights of giant eagles, or bravely harvest these vines during the months when the local aerial predators (such as drakes or griffons) are not nesting.
As the most prolific fruiting seasons tend to happen when these predators *are* nesting, this can be a dangerous, but tempting time to go harvesting...
We gotta get working on this
Normal animals with minor mutations.
587: Plage Deer. At will the deer can make fake pustules appear on it's face so carnivores will not want to eat it.
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Way back in the dawn of Paizo, a lot of thorn-based stuff appeared, like fey using thorn arrows or weapons, in one of the earliest adventures, and then showing up as equipment in the first Campaign Setting book. (Thorn Bracer, Thorn Bow, Bristle Arrow, Leaf Armor, Rosewood Armor, all p. 209-210 ish). This stuff inspired me, but seemed to fall out of popularity, so Imma bringin' it back!
588: Bladeroot. These gnarled trees have thick twisting roots that spread out along the nearby surface of the ground, and from these roots, large thorns sprout, ranging in color from dark green (when young) to dark red (as they mature) to black at the tips. The thorns are sturdy and deeply integrated to the thick roots, not snapping off easily like the thorns of a rose, growing anywhere from eight to eighteen inches at full strength, and then slowly increasing to up to three feet in height, by which point they are past their prime, dried out and brittle, and no longer as dangerous, but still render the ground around their parent tree difficult terrain to cross (and a fall can leave one impaled by one of more of the stouter mature 'blades'). Woodlands natives harvest the young and mature thorns to use as daggers, arrowheads, spear and javelin-points, or even short swords, for the eighteen inch 'adult' specimens. (The longer dried out husks tend to be snapped off and used as firewood, being too brittle for use as weapons or even in most construction.) Such weapons have the fragile property, weigh 2/3rds as much as a metal weapon of the same sort, and have the hardness of wood, unless they are alchemically strengthened, in which case their cost increases to commensurate with a metal weapon of the same sort, their weight slightly increases to 3/4 that of a metal weapon of the same sort, they no longer have the fragile quality, and gain the hardness of stone. In either event, alchemically strengthened or not, ammunition (such as arrows) with bladethorn tips, are never recoverable after use, nor do such weapons keep well, as they cannot be sharpened like a metal blade, requiring frequent replacement, or something as simple as a mending cantrip weekly to 'maintain their point.'
As a result, the local folk who use such weapons in the deep forest, tend to have both adequate access to the mending cantrip, and the alchemical skills to make the thorns usable as effective weapons. Some local druids replace proficiency with the scimitar with the short sword, do to their heavy use of blade thorn stabbing implements.
The danger to harvesting bladeroot thorns is that the roots are not the only place the thorns grow. High up in the branches overhead, additional thorns grow, and they clatter sometimes in a strong wind, like wooden wind-chimes. At the end of the season, the tree pumps them full of fluid, and the fibers connecting them to the tree itself grow thin and brittle, causing them to plunge to the ground with some force. The exact trigger seems to be based on climactic change, temperature and time of day, but a branch of the tree will shift fluid inside of itself and 'spasm,' jerking so violently that thorns the size of short swords will go flying for many yards in whatever direction that branch faces. The thorns contain a seed, and sufficient nutrient-enriched fluid to water the ground and encourage growth of a new tree wherever the thorn lands, hopefully many yards distant from the tree itself, so that it does not have to compete for light or resources with it's own offspring.
Because these thorns are weighted down with their nutrient-cargo, and flung with some force, this can kill an unwary passer-by (1d6 damage, and a truly unlucky soul could be struck by multiple thorns!), and there are all sorts of local legends about the trees deliberately flinging their thorns to kill intruders, or engaging in malicious acts like 'dropping' thorns on those digging at their roots or harvesting the thorns at their base. This happens often enough to keep the rumors alive, even if at least some cases have nothing to do with malicious trees, and more to do with tricksome fey, druids animating the tree temporarily or permananently (through awaken) or haunting presences (or, sometimes, simple mischance).
Topping a wand of magic missiles with a bladeroot thorn will reduce the cost of making the wand.
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[running with the theme of 'plants that move defensively']
590. Twistweed.
These reedy stalks are topped with a somewhat bitter grain (that makes for sour bread, but ferments well) and grow in a distinct spiraling curve.
When the surface is disturbed, sometimes even by a hard rain or powerful gust of wind, the spiraling stalk uncoils abruptly, as if attempting to lift it's precious cargo out of the reach of predation, springing to two or three times it's height, before slowly coiling back up (as fluid drains back into the bulbous root). This sudden burst of movement causes any insects (or even larger creatures) nibbling at it to either be rapidly thrown off of it, or to shy away from the plant's sudden motion, which occurs entirely through fluid dynamics within the reed itself.
The storage of fresh, if somewhat bitter, water in the root can prove useful in an area where other water sources are tainted, but the plant doesn't grow in arid areas, so is rarely needed as such. But the stalk of the plant itself, when harvested and dried out makes for a distinctive arrow shaft, and is quite popular in that role.
A local wizard has even enchanted some via some necromantic process that remains secret for now, that causes an arrow-shaft of twistweed to 'twist' when it strikes and embeds in a target, possibly plunging the arrow head deeper into the wound, and causing an additional die of damage (d6 for shortbow, d8 for longbow) at the end of the round the arrow strikes a target, if not quickly removed before the wood 'twists.' (DC 12 Heal check as a standard action, or 17 as a move action.)
591. Shrapnel Squirrel- A horrific combination of the dust bunny and razor gull above, the Shrapnel Squirrel is similar to some myths people had about the porcupine. When chased by a predator, these animals release the hair of their tails in a 5 foot cube cloud, which is unfortunately for anything in it comprised of a dust of incredibly sharp fine particles, doing horrific internal damage. The dust only lasts for 1d2 rounds but also does 1d2 Constutition damage with a Fort save for half, minimum 1. One can recover from this damage normally, but cannot take the run action while doing so- the damage to the lungs is too great. To date they have not become a familiar to any spell caster, nor an animal companion to any ranger or barbarian- these animals are far too skittish and dangerous to have around permanently. Rogues run regular confidence games upon one another, swearing to have a per shrapnel squirrel they can sic on the authorities in a chase.
591. Shrapnel Squirrel- A horrific combination of the dust bunny and razor gull above, the Shrapnel Squirrel is similar to some myths people had about the porcupine. When chased by a predator, these animals release the hair of their tails in a 5 foot cube cloud, which is unfortunately for anything in it comprised of a dust of incredibly sharp fine particles, doing horrific internal damage. The dust only lasts for 1d2 rounds but also does 1d2 Constutition damage with a Fort save for half, minimum 1. One can recover from this damage normally, but cannot take the run action while doing so- the damage to the lungs is too great. To date they have not become a familiar to any spell caster, nor an animal companion to any ranger or barbarian- these animals are far too skittish and dangerous to have around permanently. Rogues run regular confidence games upon one another, swearing to have a per shrapnel squirrel they can sic on the authorities in a chase.
Shrapnel Squirrels can only do this once a week, and are not considered some sort of apex rodent because they are not immune to the effects of their own ability, and are as much of a threat to themselves as they are to their predators, keeping their numbers low.
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592. Footworms. Cheekily nicknamed 'footworms' by a bored student of nature who remarked that they were 'inchworms, but a foot long,' these giant inchworms are usually not quite a foot long, but can reach that size. They appear in spring and autumn, for about a month each time, squirming through the undergrowth (generally too big and too heavy to climb any significant distance) making an unholy racket of crunching as they voraciously devour every ground plant they can, and smaller slower stupider insects, and a fair amount of dirt in the process. These worms will even bite someone that picks up their heavy sausage tube length, inflicting only a single point of nonlethal damage, generally enough to discourage most smaller creatures from coming anywhere near them. They are bitter to the taste, and not a popular source of food for any animal that is not itself voracious, such as bears getting ready to hibernate in autumn, or just waking up from a long hibernation, in the spring, who will handily devour them in turn, finding them to be a timely food source in their annual times of need. It is for the best that they are consumed so readily by some larger predators, as a single footworm can noisily munch through several times it's weight in plant matter in a day, and leaves behind a trail of devastation, with many hundreds of them appearing in an area where the adults of their species have laid eggs. Fortunately, they cannot devour hardier matter, like trees, and tend to strip away undergrowth, while leaving the forest itself mostly intact (although they will devour softer bark, such as that of birch, or strip saplings, killing them utterly), but if one gets into a vegetable or herb garden, it will be a complete loss, making these creatures a kill-on-sight target for farmers.
The 'footworm' is the larval stage of a kind of giant luna moth, with a wingspan anywhere from eighteen to twenty-four inches across, and beautiful grey and green (sometimes with design elements in white or yellow) wings in a dozen distinctive patterns. During the spring spawning, the worms themselves are countershaded green and grey, and produce the most colorful moths. The autumn 'crop' is brown and grey, and produce moths with similarly muted coloration on their wings, shunned by the collectors who will pay hundreds of gold pieces or more for an undamaged spring moth in a pattern that they don't already have to add to their collection. The moths themselves only live for about a month, and their is no sign of the creatures, or their voracious larval stage, throughout the next season, until changing weather signals their eggs to hatch a new brood of larva, hundreds more than eventually turn into moths (as so many different creatures prove willing to devour the fat 'footworms' despite their bitter taste).
593. Sleep Slug- These unsettling gastropod-like creatures(in truth a type of diminutive fae) feed on the mana-rich drool of sleeping creatures, usually humanoids. Unlike most fae, they are incredibly unintelligent(3-4 Int, 5-7 Wis and Cha), and usually live in the wild, where they are named for their ability to "sniff out" any sleeping wanderers or vagrants- adventurers usually. They are sometimes cultivated by isolation ist elves, more intelligent fae, and similar beings who wish to know who have come into their territory. That said they are a terrible watchdog as it were, as they move incredibly slowly- they are sluglike, after all. They are far more useful as sources of amusement- more playful fae encourage the creatures to congreate on the most squeamish looking member of an adventuring party during the nights rest.
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594. Faerie Golems. These miniscule humanoid figures are lumpy and ill-formed caricatures made of mud, sticks, dried grass and other natural materials. They only exist temporarily, a mere thirty days, and contain the least of elemental spirits, having an intelligence barely more than that of an animal, and a Strength score of 2, making them only marginally useful to even the laziest fey crafter. Still, they get made from time to time, and can be seen trudging around a sprite encampment vainly attempting to clean up after the boisterous fey. They have damage reduction 5, which is bypassed by cold iron, but only a single hit point, so that even a hard poke by a cold iron dagger will cause one to fall apart, it's diminutive elemental spirit released like wine from a tipped mug. They have no effective attacks, and seem to be the fey equivalent to a long-lasting, but significantly weaker and less useful, unseen servant.
Some fey absolutely adore them, particularly mites and some gremlins, who seem to compete to make their diminutive 'trash golems' as ugly and ill-formed as possible (or even odiferous, with some substituting dung instead of mud...). These fey tend to resent their more beautiful, magical and 'popular' fey cousins, and enjoy lording it over sad but obedient lumpy minions demonstrably weaker, slower, dumber and less lovely than themselves.
[Yeah, it's not an animal or a plant, but it's certainly inconsequential!]