Osquip [Rat]

This dog-sized rodent is a distant relative of the beaver. It is hairless, with an oversized head and broad, spade-shaped teeth. Six legs is normal, though 25% have eight and a rare 5% have ten. The hide is soft, leathery and so pale yellow it is nearly colorless. Tiny brown eyes sit close together behind protective ridges of bone, and the jaws thrust several inches beyond the flesh of the face. Osquips have animal intelligence but more cunning than most beasts.

An osquip attacks without fear, and inside its own tunnel network it can pop out so suddenly that opponents take -5 on surprise rolls. Its powerful jaws deal 2d6 per bite, and its quickness gives it AC 9. A losing osquip retreats into its tunnels, and if cornered it simply bores an escape route with teeth that cut through stone. It sometimes hisses a warning at intruders but strikes silently when it has a good chance at surprise.

Fire does not frighten them, but water does: half drown, while the others manage a feeble paddle at movement 1.

Their lair lies amid a sprawling warren beneath basements and dungeons. The entrances are too small for a human to pass comfortably and are as hard to locate as a secret door. Osquips travel in large groups (24 is the largest on record) and, like packrats, hoard bright, shiny things as treasure.

They defend their tunnels ferociously. If their digging breaks into unfamiliar passages, they grow very aggressive, searching every corner and attacking anything they find, especially giant rats and jermlaine. They are warier of human-sized beings but attack those who press too deep.

Osquips hunt mice, rats and similar small rodents, and sometimes on rival osquip packs. Litters hold three to five young, and they can live nine years. Their supple leather resists cold and rain and is prized for purses and coats, and their teeth serve as components in digging magic.

Taming them is difficult. Some wizards have done it with magic, and jermlaine have had a 10% chance of controlling them with food bribes, but osquips hate parting with their treasures and turn angry if anyone tries to take them. A few wizards have even turned trained packs loose against stone fortresses under siege, with poor results: the tunnels were nearly always too narrow, and the osquips seldom went where they were pointed.