Warp Winnower

"Beware those sharp-edged dreams that make the waking bleed."

-Old Lymantrian warning, to any who would listen.

There are dangers like nothing else in the true depths of Irrum Vath.
Hostile wildlife is nothing new in the long history of this place, but the death of magic has roused worse things. Some were peaceful before this slow tragedy robbed them of their sense.
Others were terrible then, and worse now. The creature known as the Warp Winnower is one such example.
The things appear almost like massive centipedes, skittering through the dark on their countless chattering feet. An extra set of appendages sit opposite to whichever side of body is currently handling locomotion, ready to snatch any prey that gets to close and begin passing it down to the head. At the head of the creature, an unlucky few might glimpse what happens when the massive plates of carapace armor peel back and four reaching arms emerge to drag prey into a cavernous maw.
But it is not the size, or the teeth, or the thousand skittering feet that make the Winnower dangerous.
The Winnower is deeply magical. Not the coherent ritual magic of the mortals and gods, or even the flowing and wild magic of the natural world, but a kind of magic that is a reminder. A reminder that at the creation of the universe, magic was the only thing that Death ever needed to stop by force. And with the slow decay of magic, now tearing at the edge of every thought and making every breath burn, the Warp Winnowers have grown angry.
The very presence of the Warp Winnower dissolves the bonds of normal reality. From within it's bubble of chaos, it can flicker between the course of events in multiple directions. More than that, it can drag its prey with it to these other places. As the spider spins a web of silk, the Winnower folds a trap from the fabrics of existence itself.
The effect is nearly beyond the ability of words to describe. On unlucky occasions, bands of Irra knights will encounter a Warp Winnower while tracking more manageable quarry. Those who survive speak of mad things. They tell of finding companions they saw eaten alive panting at their shoulder after escaping, or of nearly striking a miraculous killing blow before being shunted back and finding themselves the only one left alive when an instant prior all yet stood. Survivors also find subtle details in the world that are different than what they remember, perhaps realizing where they are is not where they came from.
If one is mad enough to hunt such a monster directly, preparation is needed. Irra scholars and knights theorize that the creature is not omniscient, and requires great and energy and focus to flit between a limited number of realities. Some written accounts suggest the number of linear courses of events it can track correlates to the size of the creature. A young Winnower can manage three or four, and elder as perhaps as many as twelve. The question of whether or not the beast is the same entity on all levels is left to the philosophers, as it is proven that slaying it once is enough. At least, it is from the perspective of the slayer. Hunters of a Warp Winnower must be aware of shifts between what is the foremost reality, and accomplish such a thing by bearing special crystals usually used to aid Irra elders attempting to glean prophecy through meditation and dream. The hunters must be mindful of being scattered across realities, and still be able to effectively work with the versions of their fellows dragged from other timelines. Even then, there is little guarantee the reality in which the killing blow was landed is the one you came from, or that those who survived alongside you are the same ones you first set out with. There is no guarantee that the beast was killed in the reality you came from, something especially distressing to those who sought to protect their homes and families from the beast. There is a reason the Irra legally define hunting a Warp Winnower as a death sentence.
Mercifully, Warp Winnowers are rare even in these more dangerous times. More than that, the creatures are no more than simple predators. If they were, one has trouble doubting they would rule the world. Some fringe Irra suggest that as magic dies and prophecy dries up, perhaps the Warp Winnowers could be leveraged as a new source of prophecy for the elders. These voice are ignored thoroughly.

"It is better to think the divide between real and otherwise is a firm and solid thing. If you are to tolerate one lie in your life, what better choice than the one upon which all truth depends?"

-Words written in the journal of Izshata Tcher Yek, the only Irra known to have killed two Warp Winnowers in a single lifetime.