Watcher Serpent

A watcher serpent has a long, scaly, prehensile body like a naga's and a massive reptilian head plated with bony ridges; the nimble body and the armored head share one Armor Class. It speaks the common tongue plus a purring, hissing language of its own.

Each round a watcher bites for 2d6 and either slaps for 1-2 or tries to entangle with an attack roll. A slapped foe must pass a Strength check or fall, or sent tumbling end over end if adrift in space. Entangled victims are hit automatically by the bite and by spells. Starting when its first round in the coils ends, the captive tests Strength each round: a pass frees it for a mere 1 point of crushing damage, a miss costs 2 points and the squeeze goes on.

It may also cast one spell per round as a 7th-level wizard (spell slots 4/3/2/1). Every spell is verbal only, learned by spying invisibly on casters or by trading treasure to world-bound wizards for lessons. Gripping items in its tail and activating them by word or will, it uses potions, scrolls and any item open to both warriors and wizards, such as magic swords or most wands. It regenerates 1 hit point per four rounds. Illusions of levels 1-3 fail against it, as do scare, friends, forget, command, cause fear, hypnotism and ray of enfeeblement; it is not a person for charm and hold magic, though the monster versions affect it.

To a watcher, existence is entertainment. Most drift alone through the void, bobbing and craning for a better view and humming a pleased 'mmm-hmmm'. If attacked they defend themselves, yet warning shots usually just make them dodge and float closer. Ship battles and disasters gather calm, hovering crowds of them.

All watchers are one devoted clan. They never fight each other, always see through a kinsman's disguise, and shatter any illusion or control meant to set them against their own. Slavers such as web-eel slavers and mind reavers who bargained for captive watchers found themselves led into elven fleets or gazer tyrant flotillas. Elves are their closest partners; dwarves, gnomes and humans are trusted less but are more fun to watch. They bear live, soft-scaled young in hidden jungle enclaves on obscure worlds or in caves of drifting rogue planets, hiding or teleporting away from intruders.

Watchers cross the void unaided with a Ship Rating of 4 of their own, without any starhelm. A lone watcher can haul a vessel up to 20 tons that it touches, and groups can move up to 100 tons; two hauling a ship over 30 tons give it SR 3. They cannot boost a helm's rating but can run any helm they touch as a human caster would.

Needing little air, they treat fouled air as fresh and lethal air as merely bad, and a watcher acting as a figurehead chooses atmospheres the crew can breathe. They eat gems and refined metal, coins included, and charge about 1,000 gp for a rescue, 3,000-4,000 gp to move a ship, and 2,500-5,000 gp for help in battle, preferring payment after the job. A cheat is shunned by every watcher forever, and any group rescue including him costs at least 1,000 gp more; rarely, a lavish groveling apology, called 'kissing the snake', ends the ban.

Their 2-mile telepathic network can be joined by natural power or magic only after 1d4 rounds or more of searching. Their brains serve in inks for mind-speech spells, and their slow-rotting flesh is prized by alchemists; 10 pounds feeds an active warrior for a month.

Evil skeletal watchers, probably made by wicked humans and spellcasting gazer tyrants, seek to wipe out all other life. They keep their spells and attacks, and their bite adds 1d10 chilling, life-draining damage. Their morale is Fearless (19-20), priests turn them on the Special row, they regenerate 1 hit point per turn, and each is worth 7,000 XP.