Murska

In its true form a murska is a huge, hard-shelled beetle, but it is seldom seen that way. Each time it feeds it takes on the outward traits of what it ate. After devouring a horse, its shell slowly molts away to reveal dappled gray horsehide, with a lumpy, stretched mockery of mane and head pulled over the insect body. Over time the stolen skin peels and the beetle shows through again, so a murska is a grotesque parody of whatever it last ate. Its armor shifts with this cycle: AC 2 in pure beetle form, but only AC 4 while soft with molting skin.

Imagine a voice at the inn window on a windy night, claiming to be the friend who went out to check the stables, asking to be let in, insisting the buzz in its words is only the wind. That is how many murska stories begin.

Murskas hunt in groups of three or four, rarely alone. One blocks the prey's path while the others circle to hit the flanks. They are gathering food, not killing for sport, so an attack ends once a victim is seized and hauled off to be eaten later.

A murska grabs with its crushing mandibles for 2d12, then holds the victim without further attack rolls, gnawing with small razor teeth for 2d6 each later round. Escape takes the victim's entire effort and a successful open doors roll to pry the jaws apart. Others may help as with a stuck door, but each helper automatically takes 1d6 as the beast thrashes, and the victim still suffers 2d12 that round whether or not the attempt works. Instead of struggling, a captive may call on a mental or innate ability; spells, weapons and magic items are out of the question.

Though they absorb wit and memories, murskas always count as mindless and cannot be charmed or mentally dominated. They ignore gases (rarely useful in that plane's winds anyway), take half damage from fire, and save at -2 against cold.

Murskas keep no nest or territory and follow their prey, which is nearly anything man-sized or larger except howlers, probably because of their painful quills. In famine they eat each other. They gorge and then rest until hunger returns, and their skin shows how hungry they are: one cloaked almost entirely in stolen hide is well fed, more shell means more hunger, and a pure beetle is starving and most dangerous.

Along with the hide, a murska soaks up part of its victim's mind, memory and temperament, which fade as the skin does. A murska that ate a horse may trail the party and lurk in their stable. One that eats an intelligent being becomes intelligent, gaining no spells, class, proficiencies or psionics but all its native cunning. It can speak, uses stolen memories to lure others, and may stock a larder of living victims instead of simply gorging. Rumor speaks of murskas that, having tasted intellect, crave it constantly and use other minds to sustain their new selves, though this may be just a madman's howling on the wind.

Nobody knows what part murskas play in the planes. Revolutionary legend calls them the lost spirits of fallen comrades, forever taking on other identities, and desperate rebels sometimes bring their troubles to these 'revolutionaries who have been', hoping the god-beetles will help.