There is a legend whispered around campfires about a horrid thing that stalks the lands at night.
Some say it is a thing born form the blackest abyss; others say it is one of Karma's nightmares given form; but none know the true origins of this creature.

Stalking the lands is a thing more horrible than anything else; a thing that scares its victims so much they can only babble incoherently, should they even be able to talk after encountering it.
The tales refer to it by many names, but most prefer to call it "The Hollow Drinker", a name given by the victims it leaves in its wake.
All those it prays upon end the same way: their bodies drained of almost all their fluids. Left only as a weak old sack of flabby skin upon shriveled muscles and bones, victims are drained dry. All victims share the same tale-tell signs of the attack: breasts left as milk-less flabby pouches, penises shriveled, testicles left like deflated balloons, and skin hanging off the body like sheets draped over a frame of sticks. Each victim also has a singular, circular bite mark somewhere on their bodies.

Many of the tales surrounding this horror tell of conflicting descriptions as the truth and fiction blend together. Beyond the lies, however, lies an unspeakable horror. The real form of this creature is one that stands as tall as a horse on eight, stumpy, elephant-like legs with a body long and twisted like a serpent. Six empty sacks of flesh, the size of deflated beach balls, hang limply between each set of legs. Its tail is long and flexible, tipped with a bulbous, flour-like nub. Sitting upon it's stretchy neck is a head like a tapered cone. Three slitted eyes are nestled equidistantly upon it, placed directly above it's sucker-like mouth. With hide like tanned and stretched flesh-colored leather, it sports a long, tapered, blood red canine-like cock between it's most rear legs, directly in front of it's firm purple slit.

Fearsome as the creature looks, the real horror is that it makes no noise when it walks. In fact, it generates a magical aura that suspends all sound ten feet around it. Thus, no one ever knows where it comes from, until it pushed them down and thrusts its member deep into an orifice. Victims can't even scream as the Drinker thrusts into them and knots them, injecting a mana-based digestive fluid that will keep the victim alive as it clamps down with's it's circular mouth, greedily sucking almost all vital fluids of the prey into it's sacks. Worse still, the Drinker will sometimes engulf its drained prey by using the flour-like sphincter, converting drained fluids onto transformative enzymes that change flesh and merge any who have been engulfed into blobs of flesh, often sporting the eyes of the victims staring unblinkingly in horror and lust. Sometimes transformed victims are lucky and retain mouthes or other orifices, but those are the rare exceptions.

Beware, for if you should ever be in a place where no birds chirp and no leaves rustle, the Drinker may not be far behind. And if it is, may the gods have mercy upon your soul.