Ratatosk

Ratatosk are humanoid flying squirrels with furred gliding membranes from wrist to ankle and a broad, flat steering tail. They wear only gear harnesses and protective hats. Their thick fur, black, gray, brown or red but uniform within a pack, shrugs off all but the worst cold, and the darker tail usually matches the local bark. They speak their own tongue, birdsong as a true language, and the common speech of the northern warrior heaven.

Nervous fighters, ratatosk prefer mobbing to dueling, and they lash out in panic, not bloodlust, when their young are threatened. Claws deal 1d4 each, and a diving attack from high branches doubles that damage before the ratatosk scrambles back up to dive again.

Every ratatosk is a gifted curser. Its insults work as a taunt spell against any foe of low Intelligence or better who fails a save vs. spell, and the target need not share a language with it.

Some carry stolen or imported iron weapons, since they cannot forge. A typical group is 30% unarmed, 20% with slings, 5% with staff slings, 10% with spears, 20% with hand axes and 15% with whatever they have scavenged. A gliding ratatosk that is struck by a missile may twist aside: if 1d20 comes up equal to or under its current hit points, the shot misses, and this works against magical missiles that need an attack roll, such as acid arrow or minute meteors.

The squirrel-folk act as the World Tree's couriers, and for a suitable bribe, usually one of the tree's huge, sterile seed pods, they will carry word to or from any plane its branches reach. Selfish thieves, they steal offerings left for gods and spirits and resent most outsiders, especially tieflings, dwarves and zerathi, barely tolerating elves, ram-folk and natives of the warrior heaven.

Each pack answers to a ruling male and female, the fireholders. They have 3 Hit Dice and 1d6 claws, and a failed challenger is exiled or sinks to the lowest rank. Only the fireholders breed; the exceptions are the priests of the World Tree, found in one pack in four, who can reach 7th level, gain an extra Hit Die past 5th level, and are always consulted on major decisions.

Every member mimics its leaders, so a pack may be playful or grave, and leaders sometimes adopt an admired stranger, who is then shadowed and copied by dozens of ratatosk for weeks.

Fearing for the tree, they keep one firepot, held by the fireholders, for light and winter warmth, and eat most food cold. Burning her wood is a sacred matter, and careless campers wake to loose mounts, scattered food and a fallen tent.

Grown males are cast out to steal brides from other packs or live on as lowly hangers-on, while young females stay, closely guarded against raiders. Ratatosk worship the World Tree as a female deity, believe they hatched from a great nut at her crown, and fight to the death for her. Tales of the serpent at her roots or her eagles will not shake their belief, and arguing the point can turn bloody.

A few packs wander the tree, weaving nightly nests too flimsy for heavier creatures and wintering in a milder upper plane. Most gnaw small burrows, each holding one adult and one young and plugged by a tail during sleep. Some tribes carve deep hibernation dens ringed by nut caches.

They badger travelers with riddles, about nuts, leaves, forest shadows or the tree herself, and clever riddlers have won their aid.

Their diet is nuts, roots, berries, fruit, insects, bark, leaves and spring shoots, plus eagle eggs, one of the few things they cook. Packs that have wandered into the ancient forests of other planes fall prey to giants and to giant owls, wolves and eagles, which roast them like rabbits without realizing they are thinking beings.