Elder Vasshari Thrall

Vasshari thralls are humans warped into reptilian slaves by an elixir the serpent folk force down their throats. Necromancers of a dragon-worshiping cult have found a way to raise them as undead. The result is hairless, its skin a blotchy dark gray, with green or yellow mold sprouting from old unhealed wounds. A small fin crowns its skull and continues as a ridge down the spine to a stubby tail. Black emptiness fills its eye sockets, a scaly tongue darts between broken teeth to taste air it no longer needs, and it gives off a faint reek of rust, acid and rot. It only grunts and hisses but understands commands given in Common or the serpent tongue.

It goes after any non-reptile it senses, and despite having no eyes it perceives as well as a living thrall, with 90-foot infravision. Nearly mindless, it simply rushes in with claws and teeth. Up to three times per 24 hours it can fly into a berserk rage, but only when a non-reptile wounds it directly: a dagger thrust sets it off, a magic missile does not. Raging, it gains +2 to attack and damage rolls and 2 points of Armor Class for 3d4 rounds. Sleep, charm, hold, death magic, poison and cold spells have no effect, holy water burns it for 2d4, and it is turned as a shadow.

The known specimens all serve one cult cell hidden beneath a serpent-ruled port city. Since they need neither food nor air, the cult and its vasshari allies post them at hidden caches, secret gatherings, sealed tombs and buried vaults. A few have been teleported into an enemy's home or court, where the guards inevitably enrage them, serving as undead killers or as distractions. Making them takes one to three days of murder, foul rites and costly oils poured over the bodies, and the strain on the chief necromancer caps each batch at eight. Their rages burn them out quickly; few last a year and none has endured past five.

Though they need no food, old instincts make them chew carrion, vermin and their masters' leftovers. Unlike most mindless undead they mutter and hiss endlessly unless told to stop. The serpent folk find this maddening and keep them at a distance, and they never let them near brood chambers for fear they would devour the young.