-The Over Grunk-
There are many strange beasts in this world. Many take the form of animals, alive and moving with intent, and their threat is readily perceived. But our world has always been home to living things that defy simple classification. Not all are a result of the cataclysmic release of magical energy from the Collapse. Many have existed since the War of the Magi, and yes, even before magic itself changed our world forever. The Over Grunk is one of these oddities.
Is it a plant? An animal? Or some hybrid? At first glance, it certainly seems like a plant - long green vines connected together by a thick stalk rooted in place, small orange buds of growth, tipped with poisonous thorns, and no apparent way to move or feed or see or feel. This is all a ruse, however, and if one watches the Over Grunk long enough, you will see that it can move, and move quite fast, when there is a need. And it certainly does feed and feel, for it is a pure carnivore, feeding only on meat. The barbed orange growths both paralyze its prey, poison them, and drain them of their blood. It should be noted that it feeds on the carrion left by other predators more than living flesh, though, and is not quite as malevolent as its potent capabilities would suggest.
The name "Over Grunk" may seem a bit odd to the uninformed, and is actually just a slang term invented by locals. Its proper name is the Paraladia, but it is almost universally known as the Over Grunk due to the immense popularity of the alcohol, which is also called Over Grunk, distilled from the thick juices that flow in its veins. Quite poisonous in its pure state, when properly prepared it is considered a delicacy of the Kohlingen region. Not being one to drink anything besides tea myself, I have asked Setzer how such a fiendish substance can be fit for human consumption. The Gabbianni ancestral home has always been one of the great centers of wine and spirit production, and Setzer himself has prepared the Over Grunk on numerous occasions. I quote him here, for his words explain the allure of this foul drink more than mine ever could:
"There is nothing quite like Over Grunk. The texture, the flair, and yes, the danger. Half the pleasure of this drink is knowing that you take your life into your hands every time you drink it. Did the winemaster properly distill it? Is it really as safe as they say? What if I drink too much? What if it's actually Mandrake blood? These questions are for cowards. Let them stick to their childish drinks of juice and milk. For a drinking man, and for a Gabbianni, there is only one remedy for our ills. And that is Over Grunk, and more Over Grunk! As green as a Malboro's heart and as hot as a Bomb's behind! If you weren't a brave man before taking a sip of this elixir, you will be afterwards. Now then, where's that barmaid...another round for everyone!"
I must admit, the creature has its fans. And therein lies half the danger of the Over Grunk. There have been more deaths due to foolish drunkards wandering into their domain in hopes of gathering their vital fluids than all other Over Grunk attacks combined. Being mostly sessile by nature, the Over Grunk prefers to hide in the shadows of the deeper forests, waiting for its prey to come to it. I have never seen an Over Grunk venture into a single ray of sunlight if it could help it, and I have never in all my years seen one outside of their secluded forest homes. Like many beasts, the Over Grunk is only a real threat to the ignorant or overly brave. Or to the inebriated, as the case may be.
When the creature is threatened and it has no recourse but to fight, a wondrous transformation takes place in its behavior. Where its normal state is that of an innocuous plant, waiting patiently for a meal to stumble close by, when agitated it moves with lightning speed and animal like ferocity. There have been reports of Over Grunk vines extending almost one hundred feet to either dissuade a predator or pursue an unusually swift meal. If you are unlucky enough to venture into the murky heart of some of the largest, oldest forests on the Kohlingen continent you may find yourself surrounded by an entire army of crawling, creeping Over Grunk vines. I have personally witnessed a single specimen of unusual proportions grab a Harpiai right out of the night sky and drag it down into its forest lair. But such occurrences are rare, and the loss of magic has seen an end to the more aggressive strains of Over Grunk.
Many avid drinkers have mourned the loss of the more magnificent examples of the Over Grunk since the loss of magic, claiming only the largest, most violent samples make the best wine. I am not one of those types. If I could, I would rid the world of all Over Grunk, even if it meant ridding the world of one of the few pleasures its people still have from the old days before the world fell. I know my opinion is an unpopular one, and perhaps I am showing my age by sharing it with my readers. My granddaughter, who has also taken a liking to the drink since coming of age, would no doubt call me a "fuddy-duddy" at this juncture. Nonetheless, I have always been adamantly against the pointless problems caused both by alcohol and the methods used to make it. Setzer and I have had many arguments about this in the past, and they will probably continue straight to my deathbed.
But, I digress. If there is one thing my readers should take from this entry, it is that the Over Grunk is a harmless, albeit unusual, creature that only exists in the places humans never travel. They are only a threat to thrill seekers and drunkards who invade their remote territories with the express purpose of hunting them. Just stay far away from Over Grunk, and you will have nothing to fear. That goes for the drink, too.