Werejaguar [Ravenloft]

These werejaguars haunt the deepest jungles, usually around ancient ruins the locals forgot long ago, emerging from their hidden homes solely for hunting or patrolling. They have a single shape, a jaguar-humanoid hybrid that walks upright or runs on all fours. A spotted pelt covers everything but face and palms. Their dress looks exotic to most folk of the misty dread realm: bright loincloths and wraps across one shoulder and the chest. They often carry obsidian tools but would rather fight with tooth and claw. Besides the local human tongue, they have their own snarling, hissing language.

They glide through dense undergrowth almost soundlessly and strike without warning. In jungle or similar terrain, their victims suffer -3 on surprise checks, and their sharp smell, hearing and sight mean they cannot be surprised at all without some magical help. They slash with two claws for 1d4 each and bite for 1d6, but since they are not true cats they do not rake.

Weapons of less than +1 cannot harm them, and silver holds no terror; their bane is ebony, and weapons carved from that hard wood strike them even without enchantment. Fire is a real weakness, adding 1 point of damage per die, and they dread it. Faced with a torch or similar flame, one must save vs. paralyzation in order to attack, at -4 against large or multiple fires; failure keeps it at least 10 feet away. If burned, it makes an immediate morale check at -4 or flees for 5d4 rounds.

They live in close, well-hidden communities. Normally they do not hunt thinking beings, even evil ones, but anyone who threatens the pack is killed without pity. Trespassers are another matter: werejaguars often hunt them for fun, letting the victim glimpse only flickering shapes darting through the foliage for hours or days, depending on how frightened it gets. When the cats grow bored, the end comes swiftly and brutally.

A pack of 10 or more always has a 6-Hit-Die leader, and 20% of these leaders are lawful evil. Such a pack ranges far beyond its home, hunting every intelligent species it finds.

They eat meat taken from their dense jungle home. Many actually dislike sentient flesh, claiming it tastes bitter and unwholesome. For all their territoriality, they act as guardians of their jungles, much like a druid or ranger watching over a forest, striking swiftly at anything that threatens the natural balance.