Barracuda

These warm-water saltwater fish grow up to 12 feet long and are slim as an arrow. A jutting lower jaw and a mouth rimmed with fangs give them a vicious, cruel look.

From a dead stop a barracuda reaches top speed within one round, flashing in to bite and darting away just as fast. They bully anything injured, helpless or small, which includes most human swimmers. Each bite deals 2d4 and tears away a mouthful of flesh, so a swimmer need not be killed to feed them.

Schools number as many as 12, and the fish take turns striking. A lone, unarmored swimmer facing even two or three has little hope, since while he fends off one, the others bite. A barracuda will hover about 20 feet off, its ugly eyes fixed on its target, waiting for a sign of weakness, and a school may shadow a swimmer for hours with feints and nips until he gives out. Often the first drop of blood draws sharks, which may steal the prize.

Shiny things attract them, and pale skin that wiggles just right counts. The first warning may be a sudden pain as a passing fish takes a few toes, and covering up only makes whatever remains bare more tempting. Spellcasters below the waves should take care: one unlucky mage visiting a sea elf city wore a ring of swimming whose glint drew a school. The first bite took the ring and the finger under it, and unable to cast or reach the surface, he drowned.

Most live in small schools in tropical seas, though some species range into temperate waters. Mermen have learned to tame them, and a large school of 3d6 of the bigger kind often guards a merman settlement.

Alongside the other big hunters of the sea, barracuda sit at the summit of the ocean food web, preying on smaller fish and on sea mammals that seem sick or hurt. Anglers prize them as fast, fierce game fish that readily strike a lure. Use heavy line and tie yourself into the boat: being dragged overboard into an angry school makes a better story only if you live to tell it.