The great isle of Aglirium, despite its proximity to the mainland, is still a different world from the rest of Apterra. More than a thousand lizard species are extant, along with endemic birds, plants, and bugs of many clades. Rats are only beginning to make landfall, with a handful of Abelithere populations along the southern coast. But Aglirium is no longer a land of small, defenseless reptiles that don't stand a chance against mammalian threats. Today, it's the geckos that strike terror into their prey. The predatory gecko family, Varanogekkonidae, consists of about twenty species of monitor geckos and a handful of vampire geckos. Some are the top predators of the island, while others are smaller, with more specialized niches. Every environment has at least one species, from the towering eastern rainforest to the swamps of the southwest to the central seasonal grassland. Though none reach sizes comparable to the avian carnivores of Panapterra, the Varanogekkonids are fearsome in an entirely different way.

The genus Exsanguisaurus, a blood-drinking lizard that reaches up to half a meter long, is the most common representative of the Haematogekkonine subfamily. It can be found mostly in open environments where large herbivores are common. Exsanguisaurs, like their vampire gecko ancestors, generally don't kill, drinking just enough to fill their stomachs while ensuring their targets survive to provide many more meals. Slow, grazing reptiles often end up with dozens of scars along their flanks, reminders of numerous non-fatal Exsanguisaur attacks. 

Though most vampire geckos wait for their victims to fall asleep before taking a bite, one species is equipped to handle conscious prey. Feeding mostly on gannetgrouse and other grassland-dwelling seawis, the Draculeaper (E. saltatorius) hides among the tall basket-grasses, often remaining motionless for days until it senses an opportunity to lunge out. The smallest member of its genus, this 20-centimeter gecko is adapted to cling fast, using its thin, sharp claws to hook into flesh. It begins feeding, using its serrated teeth to carve open a hole that it can stick its entire head into. The entire assault takes about a minute, and the bird typically walks away missing a sizeable chunk of its flank. 

The other branch of vampire geckos, comprising just a single species, is the Venulator (Surculosaurus arcidens). This lizard lives in the northern rainforest, which has a smaller area than the jungle to its west, but is also denser because it receives greater rainfall. These storms arrive from the central Medithalassic, which the northwestern tip of Aglirium juts into. The dark, wet, barely-navigable interior of this forest is inhospitable to larger Varanogekkonids, giving the quarter-meter venulator free reign over the canopy. This species is an adept climber, perching high in the palm-grass treetops until prey - usually a downling or climbing gecko - strays into the area. The same claws that kept it rooted to its branch then grasp at scales or feathers, keeping the small animal restrained as the venulator lines up its strike. It aims for a small vein or artery, from which it can drain blood while dealing minimal physical damage. A pair of curved, solid fangs probe until they find a blood vessel, and the hunter drinks the blood that seeps out until it feels its victim stop struggling. Unlike the large-prey-specialist exsanguisaurs, the venulator consumes its prey after draining it of its blood. It is no longer specialized to digest a mainly blood-based diet, and it only drains its victims as a means of subduing them so it can eat in peace.

The monitor geckos, otherwise known as the subfamily Varanogekkoninae, are mostly ground-dwelling hypercarnivores, though young of most species spend part of their time in the trees and may supplement their diets with fruit. Adults, though, are much too heavy and clumsy to climb effectively. As they age, their claws change from flexible and grasping to thick, strong, and blade-like, perfect for gouging and goring. They also have a powerful bite force and short, muscular jaws studded with triangular, ziphodont teeth. These features are not conducive to the grabbing-and-stabbing techniques of vampire geckos, but they can inflict deep wounds quickly, slicing cleanly through muscles, arteries, and vital organs. 

The largest of the monitor geckos, Ferogekko coronatus, uses this ability masterfully. This species - whose common name is the Monarch Monitor - can reach three meters long and sprint at 20 kilometers per hour. Little is safe from its jaws, as it patrols nearly the whole subcontinent, avoiding only the beaches and impassible jungles. Its crest, a feature inherited from its much smaller ancestors, shades it from the equatorial sun, allowing it to see clearly into the distance when crossing the savanna. The twin-lobed structure also serves thermoregulatory and display purposes. The monarch hunts large game and can take down prey twice its size. Even a well-placed bite or swipe of the claw may not kill immediately, and many of its targets flee the scene of the assault as they bleed out. Walking steadily, the monarch follows the trail of blood until it reaches the carcass at its end. These slow-paced chases can last hours, and the killer often find another of its species has beaten it to the prize. This rarely leads to confrontation, as monarchs are wary of each other's weapons, against which they have few defenses. In fact, if a fight were to occur, both combatants would probably end up bleeding to death, so monarchs simply avoid each other when feeding, positioning themselves on opposite sides of the carcass to signal their peaceful intentions.

Smaller Varanogekkonines, like the Monitunneler (Fodiogekko), engage in more chaotic frenzies at feeding sites. Several five-kilogram individuals may work together to bring down prey that outweighs all of them put together, though these teams are temporary and this genus forms no long-term bonds. Monitunnelers have a scoop-shaped upper jaw, which females use when digging nests to protect their eggs. This skull shape makes the monitunneler appear as if it's smiling, and it also allows both sexes to inflict long, shallow gashes, causing prey to die by a thousand cuts. All adults of this genus also dig permanent dens for shelter. The loose, sandy soil that covers much of Aglirium makes this a risky business, and many a careless monitunneler has found itself crushed under tons of earth. To hone their skills, adolescents (especially those who've just begun shifting from an arboreal to a ground-dwelling niche) often kill a small burrowing animal, steal its home, and use the preexisting tunnel as the foundation of their own.