Vaath

Part reptile and part insect, a vaath has a long, sinewy body armored in dark scales and a head capped by a black shell, under which its slit eyes peer out. The snout is long and whiplike, and venom drips from the white fangs of its huge, lipless mouth. In a pocket just behind the jaws hides a small tentacle. Built for both sprints and endless pursuit, it talks in hisses, growls and barks that cannot be understood or imitated without magic.

Its bite does 1d8, and anyone bitten must save vs. poison or die after 1d4+1 rounds. When it has time to play, though, it withholds the venom and uses its tentacle instead. The tentacle, tipped with a puckered little mouth, darts out as far as 10 feet and bites for 1d4. Unless the victim pulls away with a Strength check, the mouth bores into his flesh, trailing the tentacle, for an automatic 1d4 per round. In 1d4+2 rounds it reaches the skull's base and cuts the spinal cord, paralyzing him below the neck. He dies 1d6+4 rounds later, numb but conscious, as the vaath rips his body apart before his eyes. During the burrowing, nothing but slaying the vaath saves him; afterward, only prompt magical healing keeps him alive, and more is needed to restore movement. Witnesses must pass a Wisdom check or stand stunned with horror for 1d3 rounds, and a rescued victim must save vs. death magic or permanently lose a point of Wisdom. Creatures with no Strength or Wisdom score save vs. paralysis at +2 instead, always failing on a 1.

Vaaths prowl the jungle of the prison plane's fourth layer, preying on its scarce residents. They are wholly evil, deaf to reason and without mercy, and even mighty fiends of the prison plane tread warily in their territory. Lesser fiends could beat one in a fight, yet dread of its methods makes all who know of it shun it. They hunt in packs but each keeps its own den, a tiny clearing under the dark undergrowth, stocked with trophies such as a victim's possessions or a saved hand, head or eye. Females, usually cleverer and more cunning than the brutish males, lead when leadership is needed, which is seldom: the pack chases prey until it drops, then tortures it to death. Vaaths eagerly answer summonings and happily serve strong fiends as guards, pets or torturers, so long as they get plenty to eat and victims to enjoy.

They almost never leave their jungle layer and reach the Prime Material only through arcane ritual. Scholars once thought vaaths fed on suffering, a hunger that would at least explain their cruelty. That hopeful idea was proven wrong a few years ago: they are simply vicious.