Pembrick's Creaturepedia

by Andrew Peterson

  WEAKNESS: It tiptoes when with egg and is thus vulnerable to gobbling.

  TASTE: Like horned hound.

  DEMEANOR: Nonchalant.

  Huppitous Gleeze

  ICKAW

  CLASSIFICATION: flapper/hooter/dangler

  Imagine the thrill of seeing, on a winter’s morn, the rare and reclusive ickaw dangling from a barren branch, searching the snow-covered ground for yimps and flabbits. I confess that upon seeing the ickaw I wept (babylike!), then fainted. When I awoke, the creature hung but a few mengths away, eyeing me with suspicion and no small amount of—dare I say it?—concern! Had I been of rodential size, I’m certain I would have awoken with the creature feasting on my steamy innards, but since I was too large for munching, the noble creature’s thoughts were occupied with worry for my safety! I discovered after my sketch was complete that I was that very moment being hunted by a groan of dragonmoles.

  WEAKNESS: The ickaw has no known weaknesses, but its concern should be documented as a potential weakness. Should one wish to nab an ickaw, one has only to feign sickness or proninity while an accomplice captures the occupied dangler.

  TASTE: Like huppitous gleeze.

  DEMEANOR: Apprehensive.

  Ickaw

  LIMBERWOLF

  CLASSIFICATION: dragger/leaper/gnawer

  May you never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever come face to face with a limberwolf, as I did in the heat of summer in the wilds north of Bylome. Fields of tall, golden grass spread over the land, waving in the wind like a yellow sea—and like the sea, the fields there are fraught with predators (vicious!) and prey (fearful!). Picture the limberwolf’s head lifting out of the grass, listen to the sound of its triumphant howl, then feel the terror I felt when I saw it galloping straight toward me, its long legs perfectly suited to carry it swiftly over the waving wheat! Fortunately, when the beast fell upon me, it was sorely confused, for I had constructed an exact replica of my form to lure out the limberwolf and sketched it from the safety of a protective structure painted to look exactly like several blades of grass! Do not attempt this unless, like me, you are skillful with disguise and foolish in judgment.

  WEAKNESS: The limberwolf is easily duped.

  TASTE: Like ickaw.

  DEMEANOR: Arrogant. Irritable.

  Limberwolf

  MIDGEON

  CLASSIFICATION: flapper/swooper/stabber (with beak)

  Midgeons are chubby birds, easily flushed from brush and bower. They are delicious with nearly every form of food preparation, but they are dangerous with nearly every form of dangerousness when angered. I have seen the squishy birds en masse fell a diggle, pecking it with their beaks and displaying for the forgetful (me!) why they are chubby in the first place. If possible, hunt the midgeon without angering it.

  WEAKNESS: Stones. Arrows. Swords. Mouths. Chefs.

  TASTE: Like limberwolf.

  DEMEANOR: Sluggish, then flappy, then peeved.

  Midgeon

  OCTURTLE

  CLASSIFICATION: finder/blinder/crawler

  Long hours spent in the mud along the banks of the River Valinor, smeared and soaky and ever vigilant, led me to the discovery of the octurtle. Its tracks confounded me, for I believed there to be two turtles squidging along the river. My surprise was sizeable when I saw the octurtle emerge only an arm’s length from my arms! It sniffed at me disdainfully, and then it rooted about for toe nibblers and scrabs for the better part of a week while I observed it, starving and terribly uncomfortable and mud-smeared! Suddenly a snickbuzzard swooped, ended the poor egregiously legged thing, and flapped away. I ate its remains sadly, for the octurtle and I had grown somewhat familiar. If only it had retracted into its shell with more quickitude! Only later did I discover that the crawling beast was only biding its time before its blinding attack. This creature squirts an orange goo from its shell-back, blinding its prey before dining. I watched it happen as the supposed relatives of this poor, dead octurtle organized and executed an assassination of the murderous snickbuzzard.

  WEAKNESS: Snickbuzzards. Slowth.

  TASTE: Like midgeon.

  DEMEANOR: Patient. Disdainful.

  Octurtle

  OIPLE

  CLASSIFICATION: lifter/leaper/poisoner/baiter

  I stood on a sunny hilltop on a summer day and made the terrible (horrible!) mistake of bending to pluck but a single orangeish flower blooming betwixt my feet. Indeed, had I not intended to give the beplucked blossom to a fair maiden of Firfy (near the coast!), I likely would have gathered the flower anyway, such was its beckoning beauty. I tugged the sprout. I heaved the sprout. And then, with a grumpy groaning, the very ground beneath my feet stood up and toppled me headlong down the sunny summery hill! When I had gathered my accoutrements and looked from whence I had tumbled, I beheld (ecstasy!) the long-sought oiple. It glared at me, nonplussed and fidgeting, tilting this way and that as if I had not been merely tugging at a flower but at a sensitive whisker! Only then did I realize that my hand was tingling with the oiple’s flowerstalk poison. As it crept down the hill toward me, I ran, thinking not of the maiden for whom I had been oiple-duped but only of the sad and terrible truth that oiple poison is well known not only to enswell the tugger’s hand but also to attract many other gobbling beasts. I lost my hand that afternoon to the…I cannot bear to repeat it. Take care, reader, to gauge an orangeish flower’s subtle odor before plucking it to win a maiden’s affections, lest you be oipled.

  WEAKNESS: Hoes. Aerators. Stakes. Grazers. Smitten suitors.

  TASTE: Like heartbreak.

  DEMEANOR: Crafty. Cautious. Hunkering.

  Oiple

  PLONKFISH

  CLASSIFICATION: swimmer/skimmer

  The easiest fish to catch in all of Skree, the sightless plonkfish skims the surface of the water to eat whatever bugs are foolish enough to frolic there. One needs no fishing line or pole or net to capture the foolish fish; he needs only to reach into the water and snatch it up before tossing it whole into a pot of boiling water. Plonkfish stew is a staple dinner among Stranders, who are often too lazy to bother with any other fare. The only problem with plonkfish as a meal is that they taste exactly like fingerjam and sweat sauce. Beware, traveler, for where there’s a school of plonkfish, there’s usually a Strander nearby, ready to snatch you up like that foolish fish. It happened to me, and I narrowly escaped a fortnight later.

  WEAKNESS: Everything.

  TASTE: Like the worst thing ever, only worse.

  DEMEANOR: Dumb.

  Plonkfish

  RAGGANT (Eight-Eyed)

  CLASSIFICATION: flapper/smiler/human-helper

  Something is surely amiss. Of all the odd creatures I have discovered, some rumor existed of each. But this raggant (a name that came to me the moment I set my eyes upon it) has no precedent, no mention in the volumes of Aerwiar’s history. I see no flash of recognition on the faces of the Skreeans to whom I mention this small, gray, single-horned, eight-eyed, leather-skinned, flying creature. I saw it flapping circles in beams of spring sunlight in the southern reaches of the Linnard Woodlands, squeaking with a startling cuteness and quite aware of my observance. Indeed, it seemed to enjoy my company. My suspicion is that the little creature came here (think me not mad!) from another world (through a doorway or portal, perhaps?). There are rumors of such passageways, and it is the Maker’s good pleasure to plant such mysteries around us. The sight of this raggant woke something in my heart that refuses to sleep, and for that I am grateful.

  WEAKNESS: Unknown.

  TASTE: Unknown.

  DEMEANOR: Jubilant.

  Eight-Eyed Raggant

  RIDGERUNNER

  CLASSIFICATION: stealer/scrambler/sneaker

  One might think it strange to include a ridgerunner in this Skreean volume of the Creatu
repedia, since it is commonly known that the little race inhabits the foothills of the Killridge Mountains. However, ridgerunners do travel. There are many delectable fruits available in Skree that are nowhere to be found in Dang, and I happen to know that there are official ridgerunner delegations sent to the corners of the world (and beyond!) to scout for new and squishy delights. Should you, in your travels, encounter a ridgerunner, you shall now be prepared to the fullest measure of preparedness. Most importantly, if you have fruit of any kind on your person that is not locked in an un-unlockable chest, you might as well hand it over. The ridgerunner will have it whether you give it to him (or her!) or not, and if you don’t, the little sneak will irritate and harass you until you do. Better to get it over with. Secondly, do not trust the ridgerunner. His loyalty extends only to his own people and—on rare occasions—to humans with a deep and greedy desire for fruit. Beware. I sketched this one for the price of the apple he holds in his hand. His name was Zazzit.

  WEAKNESS: Fruit. They’re fast, but once captured, they’re not the best or most courageous fighters.

  TASTE: Unknown, but probably something like an apple.

  DEMEANOR: Wary. Fidgety. Obsessive.

  Ridgerunner

  SEA DRAGON

  CLASSIFICATION: swimmer/singer/leaper/gobbler

  Sea dragons, of course, are not strictly Skreean, but their annual appearance at the foot of the cliffs near the Glipwood Township justifies their inclusion here. Little is known about the sea dragons, except that they sunk the mountains, that they sing songs that make one feel either terribly sad or terribly happy, and usually both at once. For years the hides, bones, teeth, and oils of young sea dragons (calves!) have been the most highly valued goods in all of Skree. Pirates attack and outsmart the dragons, and then they separate the parents from their young. The practice is despicable. There is hope, however, because rumors swirl that some dragons have learned to fight back. And not only that, many of the nonpirate humans of Skree and Dang have repented of their thoughtless and wretched ways. If you are unfortunate enough to happen upon a sea dragon, I have little to suggest. Full-grown sea dragons are all but impossible to kill, and the beasts are so beautiful, I can’t imagine why one would want to.

  WEAKNESS: Unknown.

  TASTE: The young taste like quill diggle, according to accounts of both pirates and wealthy curs who are heartless enough to eat them. I shudder to think of it.

  DEMEANOR: Mysterious. Sorrowful.

  Sea Dragon

  SELBRIL

  CLASSIFICATION: floater/nibbler/skitterer

  What was that strange thing floating above me as I belly crawled over mossy stone and humus in a huppitous gleeze costume? A selbril! Few have ever seen one, and fewer (none!) have sketched one! The thwappish rodent’s tail is its most fascinating feature, appearing at first to be quite ordinary. However, when the sleek, graceful, twitching-of-the-nose animal leaps (sleekly! gracefully! nose-twitchingly!) from the tippity tops of the trees—fwop! goes its tail like an umbrella, and the thing floats with an enviable smugness.

  WEAKNESS: Acorns. Knives.

  TASTE: Like henmeat.

  DEMEANOR: Superior. Intense until floating.

  Selbril

  SKONK

  CLASSIFICATION: sprayer/slayer/wobbler

  Handless, toeless (in part!), and possessing many insectile pock-scars, I thought myself too damaged to ever attract a maiden. But in Dugtown (of all places!) I met and befriended the most wonderful woman I had ever met (and befriended!). She saw past my wounds, my gobbledness. She even admired me for my tireless pursuit of my quest (this book!). One day, along the East Bend of the Blapp, where some unruly characters pursued me for some time, I ducked behind an old well to rest and sat directly on top of a family entire of skonks. They squealed and wobbled out of the brush, to my shock (delight!). I took out my sketchbook and proceeded with my study of the skonks. Only then did I realize my folly. The mother skonk sprayed me from her squirty face gland with the famous skonkish-reek. I returned to Dugtown, paid a steep price for a bath, and met for dinner with my lovely maiden. But even a hot bath was not enough to rid my skinnish flesh of the skonkish stench. She tried. She really did. But in the end, the sweet maiden rejected me because of my odor, and because of the probability that I would again encounter an animal with a stench gland and carry the smell home. I didn’t blame her, to be honest. Avoid skonks if it’s love you want.

  WEAKNESS: Only have sprayers in the front.

  TASTE: Rejection.

  DEMEANOR: Wobbly. Insecure. Splenetic.

  Skonk

  SNICKBUZZARD

  CLASSIFICATION: snicker/flapper/dragger/slicer

  “Of all the mysteries of Aerwiar which I seek to solve,” I once told a Kimeran maiden, “the chiefest of them is the birthing of the snickbuzzard.” She seemed quite impressed, so I continued with gusto. “The snickbuzzard’s paunchy gut, ornamented with that crusty navelous eye, defies explanation. It beckons me bravely into the wild,” said I, “and into the wild I must go.” I struck a manly pose with the sole intention of demonstrating to the maiden the conflictedness of a heart torn between the lonesome call of adventurous mystery and the yearning for a wife to love. “It pains me, my dear,” I said with a distinct emotional warble in my throat, “to be forced to choose between you and the quest for the buzzard’s belly button.” I calculated my words to demonstrate the depth of my affection and the full weight of my courage. I hung my head dramatically (but sincerely!) and said, “I choose the crusty navel.” Truly, her heart broke to see me go. And my heart was later broken to concede defeat. While I was able to observe many snickbuzzards unsliced, undragged, and unsnicked, I came no closer to understanding the meaning of an eggborn bird with an umbilical implication.

  WEAKNESS: Daggers. Arrows. Most vulnerable in the tummy region.

  TASTE: Like snapping diggle.

  DEMEANOR: Lethargic (when roosting). Nefarious (when attacking).

  Snickbuzzard

  SNIDGE

  CLASSIFICATION: stinger/biter/buzzer/gloater

  The snidge, the snidge, the snidge. Gnats are bad. Flies are worse. But no annoyish insect is as vicious or malefic as the snidge. They bite, yes. They sting, yes. But it is the gloating that hurts the most. Swarms of ordinary insects feast on flesh at certain times of the day (dusk!), and the normal human response is to try to smack the bug (if one still has one’s smacking hand!). The bug either dies or flies, then proceeds with its business. But the snidge, the snidge, the snidge. The snidge! After it bites or stings you, it distinguishes itself from its fellow biter bugs by buzzing up close to your face, sneering with unspeakable arrogance, then pointing at you as it laughs in a high-pitched and insolent voice. All through the epochs, the snidge has tormented humankind—until now. In a fit of desperation (since my smacking hand had been gobbled!), I thrust my ungobbled hand at the gloating snidge and laughed back. I mocked it with abandon. The snidge pouted, I tell you. It pouted and buzzed away dejectedly. If one is not afraid of the odd glance from a passerby, retributive gloating is the surest defense against snidgery.

  WEAKNESS: Feelings.

  TASTE: Well-seasoned and boiled for several weeks, snidge gruel is at least as delectable as a snickbuzzard sandwich.

  DEMEANOR: Pugnacious. Affronted. Self-pitying.

  Snidge

  SNOTTAMUS

  CLASSIFICATION: snorter/biter

  See the snottamus. Repeat its name aloud. Give thanks. Aerwiar is host to such an array of creatures that the existence of this creature is an embarrassment of boons to a cataloguer/adventurer/sketcher such as myself. I descended into Dolgrannon Canyon, which lies north of North Glipwood Forest and just south of the Witch’s Nose (Mog-Balgrik!) in the Stony Mountains, unaware that I would encounter anything but bomnubbles, snickbuzzards, diggles, and the like. I scarcely dared to hope tha
t I might lay my eye (one eye!) on the glorious oddness (the inexplicable singularity!) of the snottamus. There along the dusty canyon rim, I slipped in its secretion, landed hard on my back, and looked up into the runny, oozy visage of absolute peculiarity! I’m certain it would have eaten me whole if I had not shown it sympathy, for a nose so perpetually runny must have driven it on many occasions to despair. “You must feel terrible,” I muttered to myself. The snottamus’s face softened. The beast smiled (or so I suspect!) and left me in my sticky state.

  WEAKNESS: Sympathy.

  TASTE: Salty.

  DEMEANOR: Lachrymose, then appreciative.

  Snottamus

  SPIKE-EARED VARGAX (Skreean)

  CLASSIFICATION: gazer/finder/muncher/hearer

  Listen closely, for the vargax (spike-eared!) is listening to you. Probably. The vargax heard me coming for days before my arrival in Fithyhoop, where the spike-eared muncher assaulted me. It hid near a fence near a barn near a house near a tree, and with a growlulous charge, it charged. “How did it know I would be passing that very fence near that very barn on that very day?” I asked myself as I recovered from my wounds in the Fithyhoop Infirmary. The question vexed me, for I had told no one—especially not a vargax!—of my plans to travel that way; besides, a wanderer am I, and “plans” do not fit into my plans! On the fifth day, as a Fithyhoopian nurse (beautiful!) changed my arm bandage, and as I wondered if she might be my future wife, I recalled the spiky way the vargax’s ears had twitched as it charged. The only possible solution is that it had been listening to my movements for days. This is the best explanation for how difficult it is to capture or kill or even spot a vargax, for they know of any such plots the moment they are spoken. I was only able to achieve this sketch because, aware that some distant vargax was listening, I loudly and vociferously told the nurse that I hoped to one day sketch (and not to harm!) one of the beasts. I repeated the wish aloud for days, and as I suspected (hoped!), the vargax emerged near the road north to Torto and struck the following pose.