Cold Desert

Death dogs are disease-ridden nocturnal pack hunters. Said to be the risen corpses of dogs or hyenas animated by monster-worshiping cultists, they are actually living creatures infested with symbiotic worms. Capable of tracking their prey for miles across barren terrain, death dogs surround stronger creatures, attacking and retreating, allowing their infected bites to wear down an opponent until it is too weak to fight. A pack’s territory may overlap with others of its kind without competition, though in lean times packs may skirmish over live prey or carrion. A death dog’s saliva contains hundreds of tiny eggs that grow into flesh-devouring worms. The worms don’t harm the death dog, but consume any creatures they come into contact with. A death dog’s corpse is contagious for several days after its demise and may infect creatures that touch or eat it. Remove disease can kill a death dog’s worms and remove its disease ability, but if allowed to associate with others of its kind, its quickly becomes reinfected. A typical death dog is 7 feet long, stands 4 feet tall at the shoulder, and weighs about 500 pounds. Death dogs may ally with hobgoblins and bugbears, though the goblinoids are not immune to the dogs’ disease. Thus these alliances are often temporary.

DEATH WORG
In the scrub borders between forests and deserts or plains and badlands, worgs and death dogs may mix. If a worg pack is resistant to disease, or an outcast worg takes control of a death dog pack, crossbreeding may occur. Most of these two-headed pups die before reaching adulthood, but those that survive are larger, tougher, smarter, and able to speak as well as a worg can (add the advanced creature simple template). These “death worgs” have worms infecting their brains, driving them mad with rage. Death worgs bully their packs into submission, raid caravans and humanoid settlements, and kill more than they can eat. Most death worgs live only a year or two into adulthood, slain in needless fights for dominance or dropping dead as their worm-ravaged brains stop working.

While some reptiles bask in the sun’s warm embrace to raise their body temperatures, a shasalqu is ravenous in its search of warmth. Even in equatorial deserts, it never seems to have enough heat. Instead of just relying on the sun, a shasalqu gathers energy by sapping the heat from the air around it. It then uses the intense cold generated from this heat absorption to trap its prey. A shasalqu is 3 feet tall at the shoulder and weighs about 40 pounds.  Most desert scholars believe the strange biology that fuels a shasalqu’s heat absorption is the same as that of brown mold, and some even claim that the creatures carry brown mold spores in their bodies. This could account for shasalqus’ ability to sap heat from their surroundings even after they die. Because of their sandy environs and the drops of water that melt off their icy ridges, shasalqus’ bodies are often caked in a layer of gritty mud. Motionless shasalqus are often mistaken for rocks or small muddy clumps from a distance—a mistake desert travelers quickly come to regret.  Shasalqus who settle near oases make their lairs far enough away to escape immediate notice, allowing them to sneak up on drinking or bathing creatures and then retreat to their lairs with little risk. Shasalqus that find a trade route within their territory also digs lairs far enough away to prey on travelers without betraying their presence.  Regardless of their locations, shasalqu lairs are often extremely damp since the desert’s heat melts the accumulated ice that crusts on the creatures’ hides. This makes shasalqu lairs breeding grounds for a variety of mosses and plants, especially those that can withstand colder temperatures. These tiny oases rapidly become too mossy and cool for shasalqus, forcing them to leave in search of new dens. Shasalqus frequently keep multiple dens within their territory and rotate between them.

Servants of the dark gods of the wastes, shas stalk the deepest deserts, skirting the edges of civilization. Villagers whisper that a sha nears when they spot faint red lights in the distance, believing those lights to be the creatures’ menacing eyes. Many times, these sightings are only imagined, but shas do prowl near settlements and keep an eye on humankind. Shas’ urge to hunt people who have ceased to remember and honor their patrons drives them to attack caravans, harass remote villages, and prowl isolated oases to slaughter humanoids.  Shas possess a distinctly canine appearance, and are often mistaken at night for common jackals whose eyes are illuminated by firelight. Black fur, tinted with the dust and sand of the desert, covers a sha’s body. The creature’s spiral-ended eyes glow a dull red. Explorers report that seeing a sha’s eyes glowing in the dark night is often the only indication of an impending attack. A sha’s strong jaw, lined with razor-sharp teeth, allows the creature to drag down larger prey in a fashion similar to that of a wolf. Standing at chest height to most humans, shas weigh between 100 and 150 pounds.  When alone, a sha spends its days trekking the vast wastelands of the desert, prowling among lost monuments of ancient times. While wandering the deserts, shas attack small convoys or groups of nomads along the desert fringes. Using their innate ability to conjure sandstorms, shas close in on the unsuspecting groups and try to bite as many different enemies as possible, then retreat before their foes can regroup. By doing this, the shas ensure that survivors return to civilization mad with disease and then spread the sickness to others or act on their insane urges.  When packs of shas come together, they usually do so because a number of their kind happen upon each other in pursuit of a caravan or some other nomadic prey, then decide to continue hunting together once they feed. Packs quickly dissolve as prey grows scarce.

SACRED SHA (CR 6)  
A sacred sha is a sha with both the advanced simple template and the fiendish simple template. It also gains the ability to speak and knows one additional language. Closely tied to its patron’s portfolio of storms, a sacred sha also deals an additional 1d6 points of electricity damage with its bite attack.

The largest of the known solifugids in the entire world, the duneshaker has a fearsome reputation for dealing death and destruction to caravans and other travelers in the deep desert. Beyond its reputation for carnage, the beast also is known for its extreme toxicity.