-The Harpiai-
Flying high over the area between Figaro and Kohlingen is the dreaded Harpiai, also known as the Marchosias. These enormous, violet-hued and violent-minded birds have always been striking examples of the monstrous animals that inhabit some of the more inhospitable regions of the world. They look like eagles, but their size, nearly ten feet tall with a thirty-foot wingspan, is so out of proportion with the everyday bird of prey as to make the comparison almost laughable.
Before the world fell, these giant birds inhabited the highest peaks of the Karnak mountain range that once separated Figaro from Kohlingen. They only rarely came down from their mountain perches, and sightings of them at all were almost non-existent. Those halcyon days of peaceful traveling ended when the world's landmasses shifted. Mountains fell, oceans rose, and many habitats were changed or lost forever. People tend to think the Collapse mainly affected the lives of us humans, but its effects were acutely felt by every living thing on the face of the earth.
The Harpiai was one such victim of the shift. The Karnak mountains sank into the sea on the day the world fell, and the Harpiai that survived the cataclysm were forced to flee to the lowlands of the newly formed Kohlingen continent. Where these magnificent birds were once stuff of legends, now they posed a very real threat to the populace of that region. Countless lives were lost as the Harpiai struggled to find new prey for their endless gullets.
Unfortunately for us, the Harpiai was more than happy, and more than capable of, feeding on humans. The sheer size of the bird makes a human being the perfect meal for them, and a man can be as easily snatched off the ground by their huge talons as a Leafer would by an ordinary avian predator. And a normal human is as defenseless against this monster as Leafer. The best course of action to take if you spot the all-too-familiar shadow of a Harpiai circling towards you is to run for cover and crouch down, and pray your decreased size makes you a less-appetizing morsel. For make no mistake, if you see a Harpiai it has surely seen you, and total escape is no longer an option.
The best plan is to simply not cross the plains of Kohlingen without a well-armed guide either from Figaro Castle or if you're lucky, a traveling mercenary visiting the Dragon's Neck Coliseum. Small arms are still only a minor deterrent to the thick-skinned creatures, but a heavy-grade Figaro-brand crossbow or one of the remaining machine guns or missile launchers of the defunct Imperial army will suffice to scare the birds into looking elsewhere for their dinner.
Wind-based magic was also once quite effective at disorienting and defeating the Harpiai, but with the loss of magic, mages like myself have found themselves in a sad state against the birds. It is disheartening to feel the acute lack of power my loss of magic has caused me, especially since it hasn't seemed to bother the Harpiai nearly as much. These birds were once masters of wind themselves, capable of conjuring massive whirlwinds with their wings, and even proficient in limited curative wind magic on the rare occasions they were injured. I once took pride in being able to mimic their abilities through the spells I called Aero and White Wind, but those days are behind me now. At least I can take solace in the fact that the loss of wind-power has made it more difficult for the Harpiai to flush out prey, and now at least the thick forests and high-grass plains of Kohlingen are safe from their raids.
A strange facet of the tale of the Harpiai is the history of its very name and the controversy it has caused in academic circles. We have always known the birds as Harpiai. Where the name came from no one knows and it is not of particular interest to scholars. Perhaps it shares its origins with a similarly named bird of prey, called the Harpy, which haunts my homeland isle of Thamasa. What is of interest to scholars, though, are several texts found in the Figaro library, where the name "Marchosias" was used by hunters of the time. We had seen the name before, but it was only until more records were unearthed in the ancient castle of Karnak that we realized the Marchosias and Harpiai were one and the same.
This may seem like a trivial quibble, but for scholars who's noses never rise from their books, these things matter. As more archaic names for modern creatures came to light, a schism began to form between those who thought we should drop our names and use the "proper" original names for the beasts, and those who felt the old names were obsolete and the modern names worked just fine. I admit, being an old man and more versed in ancient lore than most, I was one of the former, and we had many heated arguments between "Harpiaists" and "Marchosians". It all seems silly looking back, but we were men trying to make sense of a disorganized, broken world, and every semblance of order we could hold onto we did with a vengeance. Silly people, scholars...but our hearts are in the right place and our intent is harmless enough, I'm sure you'll agree.
In the end, Harpiai stuck with the common folk, and scholars mostly went with Marchosias. I write this book for all people, commoners and scholars alike, and so I give proper attention to both names here, as I usually do when multiple names exist for the same monster. Regardless of what scholars may decide is important, the true fact remains - these birds are a menace and extreme caution must be taken whenever traversing the Kohlingen plains on foot. Harpiaist or Marchosian, the bird itself does not care which you are. It devours all with impunity.