Xill

Xill are leathery, vaguely reptilian humanoids with four arms and skin of a startling bright red. Natives of the Ethereal Plane, they are dreaded on every world and plane that borders it, namely the Prime and Inner Planes. They have no spoken language at all, communicating purely by telepathy, and can cross from the Ethereal by way of its border regions whenever they wish. Some xill call those fears unjust, but wary neighbors suspect even the cultured ones of a dark secret.

Primitive xill fight with all four claws for 1d4 points each. Those from civilized clans forge fine weapons, can wield one in every hand, and often carry at least one missile weapon.

Savage xill raid the planes and demiplanes bordering the Ethereal, slipping through from the border regions to burst out at -6 to their victims' surprise rolls. They want captives, not corpses. If two claws hit, the xill automatically gets a wrestling hold, and its other two arms then make nonlethal punches under the standard punching and wrestling rules. On the round after it secures a grapple, it bites automatically. The bite does no damage, but the target must save vs. poison or be paralyzed for 1d4 hours. It carries enough venom for two bites per six hours and can bite only a creature it holds.

If this happens away from the Ethereal, the xill then fades home with its paralyzed captive. The shift takes two rounds, during which it cannot move and loses its magic resistance, though fading makes it harder to strike, improving its Armor Class to -1 in the first round and -3 in the second. Back in its lair, it implants the victim with eggs.

High Clan xill save their venom as a last resort; having let the glands wither, they manage only one bite per day. Some become priests of up to 5th level, serving many different deities.

Every xill belongs to one of two broad divisions, the High Clans and the Lower Clans. The lower xill seldom use weapons, make nothing, and seem to live only to breed, raiding other planes for intelligent hosts. They do not call themselves Lower Clans, refuse to acknowledge the High Clans exist, and see every other race purely as prey. Met on the Ethereal, they usually flee after making sure their young and their host-captives are safe.

The High Clans craft their own tools, weapons and clothing and seldom leave the Ethereal. They do not automatically treat travelers as prey; many trade goods and news with visitors, and some hire out as guides. Their elegant cities stand on islands of solid ether in the Deep Ethereal.

Rumor says the High Clans still need living hosts, and that somewhere in the Deep Ethereal they keep a vast breeding farm where human slaves are raised like livestock to carry xill eggs. The slaves supposedly descend from captives spared long ago for this very plan, and are now mindless and rarely older than their late teens when used. Most folk prefer not to believe it. Whatever the truth, the High Clans remain evil: vengeful, selfish, treacherous and hungry for power.

A xill lives about 50 years and reproduces twice. Its eggs must be implanted in a living, intelligent host, since only a live body can feed the young. For four days the eggs incubate, and cure disease will clear them. Then the larvae hatch and eat their way out over seven more days, dealing 1d10+10 points of damage a day, and at this stage nothing short of limited wish or wish will help. Finally 2d8 young xill burst free, killing the host instantly if it is not already dead.