Gnasher

A gnasher looks like a lean dog at first, but the snout is a wolf's and it is crammed with far more needle-sharp teeth than any hound carries. A stiff crest of bristles rises between its shoulder blades. Coats run to black, slate gray and dark brown, and the eyes give the game away: they smolder with an open, eager hunger to wound and kill.

An ancient master sorcerer bred the first of them, and for generations people took them for ordinary wild dogs. The mistake ended once folk noticed that gnashers never shy away from pain. If anything, they seem to enjoy it.

Killing is what a gnasher lives for. A pack rings its quarry, darting in and out with feints and quick snaps, a bite dealing 1d6 points of damage, often aimed at the throat. Once the target is bleeding and slowing, every gnasher rushes in together and bears it to the ground from all sides. A victim pinned under the pack fights at a 4-point Armor Class penalty, and each gnasher bite against it gains +2 damage. Few who go down ever get up.

The best escape is to climb where the dogs cannot follow. Even then a pack may simply wait at the bottom, keeping watch until the stranded prey dies of thirst or risks a run for it.

Each pack follows a leader that won its rank through violence and has 1 extra Hit Die. Younger bullies watch for the leader to weaken with age; once it is ousted, the remaining contenders brawl for the top spot, though these fights seldom end in death. Barks, snarls and posture carry simple messages between packmates.

Gnashers bicker constantly over meat, mates and status, yet they close ranks the moment an enemy appears. The only gnashers they will actually kill belong to rival packs, which they treat as competitors for food. They generally keep away from towns and prey on whoever strays into the wild, but small farming villages sometimes lose sheep, cattle and the occasional lone herder to them.

These are pure carnivores that will chase rabbits, travelers and low-flying birds alike. Gnasher territory is unnaturally quiet because the pack has eaten everything else, and wildlife takes close to a year to creep back after the pack moves on to richer hunting.

Mating happens each spring. A female whelps 1d4+1 cubs that stay with her for a year before being driven off to fend for themselves. The elven dog, or cooshee, is the gnasher's sworn foe: the two attack each other on sight, and neither accepts the usual canine show of submission. No mercy passes between them.