Rakshasa

Standing 6 to 7 feet, a rakshasa weighs 250 to 300 pounds. No two look quite alike, but all are humanoid with features of animals, tigers and apes most often. Many have hands whose palms curl the wrong way, outward, and the mightiest sometimes have several heads. Every one dresses in the finest human clothing. They are malevolent spirits wrapped in bodies; their true origin is unknown, and some believe they are nightmares made flesh.

Rakshasas crave fresh human flesh and hunt it with illusion. A limited ESP reveals someone the victim trusts, and the rakshasa takes that person's appearance as bait, striking when its prey is least ready. The disguise falls away when it attacks.

Its spells can include up to four wizard spells of 1st level, three of 2nd and a pair of 3rd, plus a trio of 1st-level priest spells, all cast at 7th level. Spells below 8th level cannot affect it. A weapon must be at least +1 to harm it, and anything less than +3 does only half damage, yet a single hit from a blessed crossbow bolt slays it instantly.

About 15% are greater rakshasas, the knights called ruhks, who guard their communities. Only +2 or better weapons hit them, anything under +4 deals half damage, and they cast at 9th level. Roughly 15% of ruhks are rajahs, clan patriarchs with a ruhk's powers who also cast as both an 8th-level wizard and a 6th-level priest, with their spells working at 11th-level ability. About 5% of rajahs are maharajahs, dukes with a ruhk's abilities, 13+39 Hit Dice, and spellcasting equal to a 9th-level priest and 13th-level wizard.

Rakshasa society is a rigid caste system; each is born to a station it can never rise above. Females, called rakshasi, outnumber males 1-3 to one and serve as consorts, valued only for their loyalty and the fighting skill of their offspring. A rajah or maharajah commands absolute obedience. Maharajahs, who head either one mighty clan or a cluster of smaller kindred ones, live on the Outer Planes ruling island communities of hundreds and serving still greater powers.

They war endlessly on humanity, both for food and because they believe battle is the only path to honor, and they become unbearably arrogant when humans see through their disguises. Their lives swing between lavish indulgence in good times and austere fasting and self-denial in hard times or before war. They are honorable, yet bend the wording of any bargain to their benefit, and while they prefer deceiving humans through illusion, they fight bravely and openly.

Being spirits, rakshasas are all but immortal, producing a new generation once a century to replace those fallen in battle. Nothing hunts them except those seeking revenge for their victims. Their essence can go into a potion of delusion.