Temple Critter

Priests of a frontier coast shape these little constructs from rock or hard clay, always gray or black, to serve their temples as spies, servants and guards. They are gargoyle-like and about 1 foot tall, but few take a true gargoyle's shape; most copy familiar sacred images such as cherubs or imps, or local folk such as manscorpions and winged bull-folk, often with oversized hands, feet or ears. Many have wings, but none can fly.

They dart about in quick bursts and can leap 4 feet straight up onto tables or shelves, or dig their claws into doors and walls to cling there.

Temple critters avoid fights whatever their morale, and except in large groups they are little more than pests. Ordered to attack by their creator, though, one turns astonishingly vicious. It lets out a piercing shriek, leaps onto its foe and scrambles around to any exposed spot to claw and bite. It may also use a handy dagger or knife for normal weapon damage. Once engaged, it fights until destroyed or called off by its master.

Though highly intelligent, a critter is wholly under its maker's control. It has no family or society, and critters get along only because their master demands it. They lurk in the dim corners of temples, cathedrals and crypts, restless and wandering. While spying they try to pose as statues, but none can stay perfectly still for more than a few minutes. They watch for intruders in forbidden areas and for troublemakers, and priests of several coastal faiths post them over valuable relics. Their combat shriek doubles as a loud, effective alarm.

As constructs they stand outside nature. They enjoy food but need none, and were made to enjoy existence and serve faithfully.