Belabra
This CR 3 Aberration is, to put it simply, weird. It is a floating jellyfish with an Intelligence rank in between a troll and orc, barbed tentacles, and acidic blood. Piercing one threatens a blast of caustic acid in the face, while struggling in one's grasp means you have twelve tentacles scraping you with their barbed length; in other words, it's not a creature you want to wrestle with by any measure. Strangely enough, there's no effort put into having an interesting society for these sapient but alien beings; they're simple intelligent forest-dwelling predators. I imagine them spending most of their time either finding food or resting...until the deepest parts of the night. Then, the normally solitary belabra gather to worship whatever arcane aberration god they follow. At the very least, I'd give them some eldritch abomination-style maddening alien thought processes.



Bhuta
I'm sure this description will get some people happy. The bhuta, a CR 6 Undead of the corporeal persuasion, is a walking corpse who seeks both vengeance on its murderer and living flesh to feed its voracious appetite, particularly the flesh of elves (See? I told you some of y'all'd like this). Another interesting thing is that the bhuta's body, save for its nails-turned-claws and deathly pale skin, mostly remains the same as when it was alive; this means that it's possible to use these creatures as a more subtle corporeal undea threat than, say, a ghoul. The bhuta can also track its killer as long as they are on the same plane and deal 1d6 points of damage each successful round of grappling an opponent as it strangles them with its powerful hands! In the Indonesian folklore they come from, bhuta are drawn to what they enjoyed in life, which makes for more interesting flavor to add on to the whose "avenging spirit" concept. Imagine, if you will, a strangely pale man in the back of the bar, wrapped in heavy clothing and heavily drinking without any apparent concern for his health; of course, as a bhuta, he won't get ill or hung over, but the drunkenness he experienced in life carries over as an addiction in undeath.



Blindheim
A strangely brilliant idea in a 4-foot tall amphibian package. Such is my praise of the Blindheim, a CR 2 Aberration of deep, moist caverns. It is a creature of animal intellect that is saved from mehness by its strange adaptation. While odd at first, the blindheim makes a lot of sense when I think about it. Many creatures of the underground regions (and even some that aren't, such as orcs) take penalties when exposed to bright lights, and this aberrant little critter's high beams are actually quite the appropriate mechanism for a predator of the deeps as a result. Just think of what a pack of hunting blindheims might be like; four hefty, bloated frogs circling in the shadows, their fetid mouths coated in the fungi they supplement their diet with, eyes aglow as the lurk in the shadows...waiting...watching. In a flash, nictitating membranes flick away, revealing blindingly bright beams of light from their eyes.



Blood Hawk
A CR 1/2 Magical Beast, the blood hawk is essentially just a stronger-than-average hawk with "a taste for human flesh". Bleh, don't really care. Moving forward!



Bloody Bones
This blood- and mucus-drenched skeleton is certainly a creature built for horror campaigns. Bloody Bones, CR 4 Undead, are brutal combatants whose fluid exterior protects them from both fire and restraint, have claws that rend and tear at flesh, and can fire 30-foot long tendrils from their bodies to reel in ranged opponents. While there's a tacked-on "theory" about how Bloody Bones are desecrators of evil temples cursed by evil gods, I prefer the local lore we have here in Louisiana about the folkloric Bloody Bones. He's treated as a bogeyman of the deep waters, snatching those foolish enough to swim in dangerous areas You could expand that idea into various motives and modes of operation for such a being.



Boalisk
At first glance, the CR 4 Magical Beast named the boalisk seems to be a typical large constrictor snake. It constricts, it bites, it climbs and swims relatively well. You then notice a little four-letter word that propels it to whole new levels: "Gaze". Yes, dear readers, the boalisk's name does refer to our dear friend the basilisk.Unlike the basilisk, though, this marsh-dwelling serpent's gaze attack doesn't petrify; instead, it passes on a festering disease known as black rot (!). While an odd choice, I do commend the fact that its implications were thought about in the fluff, as it's stated that a boalisk that is attacked while consuming prey will use its gaze attack instead of forcefully regurgitating its meal to free its mouth to strike like a mundane python.

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Next time, I'll be back to cover a beast of the bogs, a body of the bogs, a boggart that is also from the bogs, a skeletal sculptor, a crushingly strong-jawed carnosaur, and a marrow-munching monster.