Slayer Genie [Tasked]

Slayer genies are huge, winged, and four-armed, bare-chested, with dark skin polished to a sheen. One pair of hands is human; the second pair are lion paws ending in ivory talons. Red eyes glitter with fire, and a third eye, green and catlike like a panther's, sits on the brow between a pair of horns. Their hair is as coarse as a horse's tail.

Murder is the slayer's sole purpose, and it prefers to commit it unseen. Because killing draws attention, slayers keep their rage leashed out of fear of being caught and punished, but once discovered they explode into berserk violence.

Its spell-like arsenal suits an assassin: improved invisibility, darkness, silence 15' radius, blindness, misdirection, ventriloquism, polymorph self, dimension door, and gaseous form. Revealing its true shape frightens any creature of up to 3 Hit Dice.

Up close it rakes with its claws or swings a weapon in either human hand without penalty, and its tremendous Strength adds +9 to weapon damage. Favored arms include axes, maces, morning stars, scimitars, and polearms that cleave. It seldom uses missile weapons but suffers no penalty when it does.

Undead puzzle slayers, which cannot decide whether something already dead is worth killing. Given a choice they save undead for last, and if discovery is at all likely they leave them alone entirely. The result is that undead often take the blame, and the hunters, for a slayer's crimes.

Legend holds that slayers were first made to terrify the genie lords' enemies and later became assassins in the scheming of noble genies. They are always servants, whether of humans, demihumans, or other genies, and every master keeps a close watch. Left unsupervised, a slayer may start butchering its own master's people. The rare free slayer enjoys only a brief reign of terror.

They delight in the company of warriors and will lecture for hours on weapons, anatomy, stealth, tactics, armor, and dirty tricks. Their interest is far from professional. They dwell lovingly on how a victim looked while dying, how each blade performed, and the charms of different fighting styles. They long for their own death in battle as a crowning moment, and nothing sours one faster than the idea of dying any other way.

A slayer feels neither pride nor shame about its jobs, only the drive to finish them and brag afterward. No method is too vicious and no assignment too vile.

Slayers are tasked genies that cracked after too long at a single job. They seek relief in bloodshed and keep only a narrow cunning. To them every other creature is a bundle of traits to defeat, existing only to die at the slayer's hands. A slayer may scold its prey for refusing that purpose, and denying that one wishes to die by its hand only angers it more. Few living things survive an encounter, let alone gain from one.