Jorri

Jorries look a great deal like otters: long bodies 2 to 4 feet in length on stubby legs, covered in short, oily, dark gray fur with black spots. Their big rear feet have long webbed toes that fan out for powerful strokes, and these feet push together with a crescent-shaped tail in single strong kicks that shoot the animal through the water. Long, sharp front claws pry food from shells, and stiff white whiskers help them feel their way in the dark.

Fairly clever, a jorri speaks a broken form of the common tongue peppered with seafaring words and salty language, plainly picked up from sailors.

Jorries prefer to avoid fights but will defend themselves, and sometimes leap in to help others. A jorri rushes in biting, while its forepaws rake furiously, each front claw attacking twice. When the bite hits, the jaws lock on; the jorri deals no more bite damage but clings tight, cancelling the victim's Dexterity bonus to AC while its claws keep tearing. Prying it loose requires a bend bars success, if anyone can get a grip on its jaws at all. Jorries are smart enough to aim for places a foe cannot easily guard, like a horse's belly.

These animals live along the shores and in the waters of a frontier coast, traveling in family groups. A pair may raise up to three young a year for several years, in a seaside den lined with dry rushes or flat grasses. They eat small fish and shellfish, and like their otter cousins many crack tough shells with stones.

They love surfing the waves, basking on the sand, and above all playing in storms where the sea is wildest and reefs make diving thrilling. Knowing how deadly such water is to others, they try to warn approaching ships of hazards and will rescue struggling swimmers and shipwreck survivors when they can. Some even recognize the deceptions of the sea hermit and alert its intended victims. Occasionally a jorri asks some small favor of someone it has saved, and anyone who treats them kindly may find them full of useful information and remarkably helpful in a crisis.

Jorries are a boon to their coastal waters, helping those in distress and eating only abundant prey. Giant sea worms and a few other big marine predators keep their numbers in check. Their pelts are lovely, but hunting them is considered deeply shameful, and sailors will actively protect jorries from hunters.