Lillend

From the waist up a lillend is a handsome man or woman; below, a thick serpent's body, and from its back sprout broad, strong feathered wings. The human parts are ordinarily colored, but scales and feathers blaze with bright, intricate patterns unique to each individual, a point of great pride. Lillendi wear no clothes, sometimes wear jewelry, and always carry weapons and instruments.

They never mate. All reproduce by themselves, bearing daughters much like their mothers; those with male torsos are still biologically female, though they adopt men's dress and customs. Lillendi understand any intelligent communication, written or signed, have 120-foot infravision, and speak their own language plus those of giants, ram-folk and zerathi.

Each functions as a 7th-level bard, casting spells, charming with music, swaying morale, recalling the lore of legendary items and using any bard-usable magic item. Three times a day each they can cast light, knock, hallucinatory terrain and darkness; once a day each, transport via plants, speak with plants, speak with animals, polymorph self (humanlike forms only), pass plant, irresistible dance and fire charm.

They breathe water and swim swiftly, wings folded as they slither across the surface or beating slowly underwater like giant diving birds. Poison, noxious gas and normal fire cannot hurt them, nor can positive or negative planar energy, level drain and enervation included. Enchantment/charm spells fail against them, as does any musical magic, from satyr pipes to harpy song. Only +1 or better weapons hit them.

Their human halves have Strength 17 and Dexterity 16 with the usual bonuses, wielding long swords, great spears or longbows with war arrows, sometimes magical. Coils that catch a foe deal 2d6 at once and 2d6 every following round; a coiled victim suffers -3 to attack, damage and saves, while the lillend gains +1 to hit and damage against it. Especially hated enemies may be carried aloft for up to 10 rounds and dropped for as much as 20d6; a fall dealing over 50 points demands a save vs. death magic or instant death, whatever hit points remain. A lillend cannot lift more than 250 pounds or constrict while flying.

A lillend that has entered its Silent Hour fights in serene fury, always winning initiative, attacking at +4 for double damage, eager to impress its god before it dies at the hour's end.

Native to the northern warrior heaven, they also roam the plane of passion and the plane of raw chaos, and journey to the Prime by astral travel, where they prefer temperate or tropical forests. They serve the moon gods in their realm there and visit the Prime only on divine orders, keeping out of others' business more than any other servants of their plane. Peaceful lovers of song and talk, they are nonetheless dangerous: offenders are punished harshly, innocents still get pranked, and those who would tame the wilderness earn real hostility.

Legend says each can choose its time of death, the Silent Hour, when weary of life and service, a gift of the moon gods or perhaps a curse laid by the lawful powers they served long ago and then forsook. Before the end it bids farewell, then vanishes into its god's realm in a mist that works as moonbeam and chaos combined. Those killed before choosing die with faces twisted in despair, since tradition holds they will never join their deity.

Status comes from initiation into mysteries, secret societies each guarding a nugget of wisdom along with particular songs, instruments, weapons and spells, so a band of lillendi tends to share gear and magic. Totem masks, each design once belonging to a single family's lodge, still loosely mark rank and kinship.

Lillendi can live on moonbeams and the wild essence of breezes, rain, rivers and wildfire, but they prefer real food and will eat meat, grain, hay, vegetables or spell components alike. They excrete nothing; perhaps they turn matter into magic, or into the fog they sometimes exhale, for no scat or spoor is ever found in their lands. After a big meal they sink into a contented stupor for hours or days, doubling casting times, halving constriction damage and suffering -2 initiative, so they never indulge unguarded.

They clash now and then with that heaven's petitioners but mostly keep apart. They compete with asuras, devas and valkyries, easily dodge the clumsy heaven-trolls, and are mortal enemies of baatezu and the clockwork beings of the plane of perfect order.