Tabi

Imagine a stocky little ape with paper-thin leathery wings and long golden fur. A grown tabi is about as big as a house cat, weighing around 15 pounds, and smells of spoiled meat; in still air the stink carries 100 feet. Tabi are clever and speak Common plus their own tongue.

Tabi strike from ambush, settling downwind so their odor does not warn the prey. Each has a 40% chance to hide in shadows, move silently or pick pockets.

Their claws drip crystal-blue poison. A scratched victim must save vs. poison or turn deluded for 2d6 turns, at once attacking whatever creature stands nearest. The deluded keep using any weapon already in hand (otherwise they brawl barehanded) and cannot cast spells, use spell-like abilities or call on psionics. Neutralize poison ends it.

Like rats, tabi go wherever there is food to scavenge or steal. They are compulsive gossips, hungry for news of every sort, and any rumor one tabi hears soon reaches all its neighbors. They gladly sell local lore and legend for good food or fresh news, though their honesty is poor. Certain powerful wizards have a spell that binds one tabi as a spy or informant.

Tabi mature at six and may reach 150 years, yet in the wild most die before half that age. A female bears one baby after roughly seven months. It flies by three months old but needs its mother for about 18 months.