Almost always the pleem are solitary creatures.
"...At last we found the abandoned temple which the mad hermit spoke of and its silent guardians. At first we thought the creatures were statues, tucked up vertically in rows along the shadowy walls, motionless. Then we realized they were simply weird-looking starving cats and proceeded to ignore them. They likewise ignored us, not even a single meow escaping their weird little heads, as we looted. The ransacking of the temple was going quite well. When the cats got in our way we would simply shoo them off (granted, we kicked a few as well), and the timid things would leap away to safety. This proceeded for some time when suddenly to our surprise, several of the cats began to "scream".**
The whole temple seemed to shake from the unimaginable sound. I watched in horror, as Yokpo our thief, grabbed at his head with his hands in agony. Blood burst forth from his ears, and only the incessant howl of the devil-cats drowned out his own pathetic screaming. Gargan, our fighter, merely stood in place, seemingly paralyzed, his eyes glazed over. Blood flowed freely from his ears as well. Disoriented, and likewise suffering from mind-numbing sonic pain, our wizard Maphael staggered and fell down a staircase, snapping his neck like a twig.
Only I escaped that day, and am still permanently deaf from the experience, haunted by nightmares and those ear-piercing, demonic howls.
But I have not forgotten the temple and its "silent guardians". And as soon as I can gather a group of like-minded individuals again, I plan on returning to avenge my comrades, put those devil-cats to the torch, finish looting that forsaken place, and maybe find the mad hermit who first told us about the temple, to put him to the torch as well!"
~Tywas the (angry) deaf bard
**The pleem were not attacking or defending the temple. It just so happened that five (of thirty) pleem were "due" for a howl that very day, and simply synchronized their screams.Go to Comment
A few facts on these creatures, usually left out of anecdotal tales...
--the pleem sense of hearing is unmatched in the animal kingdom. The pleem can hear a mouse fart from a mile away, their rabbit-like ears twitching like antennae at all times.
--it is these hare-like ears that are perhaps the least understood and most powerful of the creatures organs. Sound magnets, they somehow absorb all the noise harmlessly, allowing the pleem to let out its one concentrated scream every two fortnights.
--the pleem are immune to the sound of their own intense, sonic eruptions, or those of other pleem.
--the tongues of pleem are disproportionately long, like their torsos. A typical pleem tongue can spring out from the creature's mouth like a chameleon's, where it sits coiled, extending an impressive sixteen to twenty inches. The pseudo-feline uses this spectacular tongue to get to its favorites, honey and nectar.
--pleem mating habits are poorly understood. Almost always these faux-felines are solitary. Gestation lasts a surprisingly long time, considering their lifespan and size. A pleem carries a pup for almost eighteen months before giving live birth.
--It is always assumed that like cats the pleem are nocturnal at heart. The opposite is (weirdly) true. They are active by day, and slumber by night (usually vertically against some hard surface.) Their narrow eyes are bizarrely human-like and in fact identical to the human eye, apart from the intense, queer topaz color.
--true cats despise the pleem for some reason not yet understood. They will avoid or sometimes even attack the imposters known as "Stretchers" on sight.
--pleem make for desired familiars. They are low on maintenance, while high on self-preservation, and somewhat attuned to magic.
--the habitat of the pleem is like that of any real cat. They can be found everywhere, though they are generally rare in any environment. The rule of thumb suggests that one pleem exists for every six hundred mundane house-cats.Go to Comment
Alright, how about this: of course the skin-pants hold great power ... if they're properly cured, with the necessary rituals to bind the magic properly to them, and keep undesirable properties leaking out.
Gezel didn't, obviously, have time to finish those preparations. Without the binding rituals, the raw force of the Infinite poured into Hamrog's stolid, ill-educated soul. Part of the spirit of Barkok is in him, now, and part of the malice and cruelty that belonged to his demon assassin also. What is left of Hamrog's mind and soul are just tatters, and he is certainly not in control of the result ... or of anything else, either.
The resulting entity -- insane if anyone ever was -- wanders the world, the slaughtered corpses of his comrades forgotten as he left the tower. The skin-pants, uncontrolled and uncontrollable, manifest the magical equivalent of Tourette's: at random points (but never more than an hour or so apart), a random spell that Barkok knew fires, at an eligible target within the standard range for such spells. Sometimes the spells are trivial, sometimes not harmful ... a "Shape Metal" spell cast on a tree will have no effect, obviously, and the "Housekeeping" spell Barkok used to keep his sanctum tidy won't do a tavern harm.
But some of the spells are the most horribly destructive the sorcerer knew, and the "Laughing One" is a feared terror throughout the land. For if he is attacked ... then the skin-pants have been known to fire a salvo of ALL the spells Barkok commanded. Seldom has anyone survived the resulting holocaust.Go to Comment