Kopru

A kopru is man-sized, with a humanlike torso, smooth head, big eyes and a puckered mouth ringed with tentacles. Its webbed hands bear claws, and its sinuous lower body divides into three prehensile, flukelike tails, each ending in a sharp hook. Hatchlings are light tan, adults olive, elders a sickly brown.

It scorns weapons, biting and clawing for 1d4 each, while its three tails strike together as one attack for 3d4 as the hooks bite in. Next round it hauls the victim close and coils around him, crushing automatically for 3d6 each round, or simply holding without harm if it prefers; it can also bite a held victim automatically. It rarely claws someone it holds, needing its arms to steady itself or fight others, but gets +4 if it does. A held victim can only struggle; a bend bars roll frees him. On land the kopru walks on its arms and can use its tails only against foes behind it.

Its most dangerous weapon is a charm, used in place of physical attacks against one target within 30 feet. A failed save vs. death magic leaves the victim wholly obedient to its mental commands. One success makes that character immune to charms from the whole pack for the rest of the encounter. Unlike charm person, the victim behaves normally day to day but obeys at once when compelled, then carries on unaware. The kopru gains instant access to his memories and thoughts, range no longer matters, only one kopru may control a person at a time, and the hold can last indefinitely. Only dispel magic (treat koprus as 9th-level casters), wish or the kopru's death ends it. Their magical affinity gives them +2 to saves vs. magic.

Every intelligent air breather is hateful to them, elves above all for resisting charm; whatever cannot be controlled, they reason, should die.

They lair in hot, wet places such as quiet grottoes and submerged caves, in packs of 3-24 (3d8) ruled by a dominant female, the only one who lays. She produces a clutch of 2d6 eggs twice a year, from which only 1d4 young reach hatching.

Their once-great undersea civilization, versed in magic and psionics, has been sinking into barbarism ever since climate shifts or rival sea races undermined it. Explorers report sunken kopru cities full of exotic treasure and nightmarish sea life. Their thought-reading charm may be the last echo of that psionic past. They see humans as dumb beasts to play with and command, stalking intruders and striking when they are weakest. Their war with the knas never ends. Some sages think koprus are to mind reavers what mermen are to humans.