Tyrg

A tyrg blends the alertness of a hound with the stealth of a great cat. It stands about three feet at the shoulder and measures six to nine feet long. Its white coat is blotched with gray, black and tan. When hunting it moves with a feline, low-slung grace, but its heavy, many-fanged jaws clearly belong to the dog side of the family.

At the start of melee, tyrgs let loose savage howls that leave their victims mildly stunned for the next three rounds, suffering a +2 penalty to initiative and -2 to attack rolls. No saving throw applies. The effect does not stack, and a creature can be stunned again only after the first three rounds have passed.

The pack then charges. Each bite of those massive teeth deals 1d12 damage. A foe who is overborne or otherwise lying on the ground can also be raked by both forepaws for 1d4 points apiece.

Tyrgs have a 75% chance to move silently, and thanks to their sharp senses only a roll of 1 surprises them.

Tyrgs were discovered only recently, and what little is known comes from thoroughly untrustworthy observers, namely adventurers. Reports of roaming packs hint that the wild dog ancestry dominates, yet the few lairs explored suggest females do most of the hunting, which sounds more like a pride of lions or tigers.

One tentative explanation reconciles the two. Tyrgs may wander the wilds as almost nomadic packs, abandoning their lair every few seasons or years to follow the lead male. When they settle into a suitable den, the pack reshapes itself into a pride. Mothers go out foraging after giving birth, while males stay to guard the den and the young and to test one another, sorting out the pecking order anew.

A lair, usually a cave or deep pit, holds 1d4 young that are 20-70% grown. They join the adults in defending it. Everything else in the den is an adult.

With so little known, nobody can yet tell males from females at a distance, though coloring or behavior might eventually offer a clue. Beyond that, tyrgs are simple carnivorous hunters. Only monsters meaner and hungrier than they are threaten them, and they have no allies. Even their kin, wild dogs and tigers, may be greeted one day and attacked the next, with no pattern anyone has spotted.