Rakshasa

Made up of smoke, blood, and gold, raktavarnas are the least of the rakshasas—they are born not from humanoids, but from the souls of rakshasas who failed utterly in their previous incarnation and who are thus reborn from a serpent’s egg. These terrors drift through society, passing from hand to hand as weapons or strange tokens from foreign lands, curiosities brought home by traders and emissaries and given to leaders as tribute. In this manner the raktavarnas gain entry into corridors of power throughout the world, and what they see, their foul masters know. A raktavarna’s servitude to a master ends only when its master decrees, or (more commonly) upon the master’s death. Little disconcerts raktavarnas more than having no master, and when they are cast adrift in this manner, they seek a replacement as soon as they can. A 7th-level lawful evil spellcaster with the Improved Familiar feat can gain a raktavarna rakshasa as a familiar.

Dandasukas, also known as “biters” among rakshasas, serve as spies and assassins. They often appear as part of a rakshasa’s retinue or secret network. Born to manipulate and murder, they revel in their work and delight in the sight of blood. Thus, dandasukas go about their work cheerfully, laughing as they manipulate foes and butcher victims. All dandasukas are restless and energetic. They crave activity and entertainment, preferring the sick and cruel to conventional fare. Dandasuka pranks are rarely amusing for the victim. Monstrous hunger gnaws at the hyperactive dandasuka’s body, making the creature crave humanoid flesh and blood. When such blood is spilled, a dandasuka is often not able to contain its fiendish appetite. It might lick a bloody blade, lap up fallen drops, or even take a bite out of a fallen foe at the expense of a more tactically sound option in a fight. A dandasuka settles for other meat when it must, but it always prefers humanoid flesh. Murder and mayhem are not the only duties of a dandasuka. Stronger rakshasas dispatch dandasukas as emissaries and servants to allies. Despite their usual disorderly habits, they bargain good-naturedly and in good faith, only implying dire consequences for noncompliance. Dandasuka negotiators efficiently take care of impasses if no favorable resolution can be reached. Similarly, dandasuka retainers serving rakshasa allies curb their fiendish ways as best they can, though their employers would still do well to keep them amused and fed. One has to be careful of keeping dandasukas too pleased, however, since they are known to take unwanted initiative because of off-hand remarks, such as idle wishes that a certain person were dead. Dandasuka greed extends from amusements and food to wealth. All dandasukas love comfort, fine clothing, and shiny baubles. Most of them wear as much jewelry as they possibly can without looking ridiculous, and some cross that line. A dandasuka is 3 feet tall and weighs 55 pounds.

Marai are deviant spellcasters first and fiendish corruptors second. If allowed to indulge in their desire for perverse mystical study, most marai are content to serve as part of another rakshasa’s cabal. A solitary marai might pose as a neophyte magician to infiltrate another spellcaster’s abode. If the marai is successful, the master soon becomes either the servant or a corpse. The possibility of new magical discoveries drives a marai. Morality and compassion never constrain the fiend’s experiments. A marai prefers to torment and exploit mortals who have no idea of the rakshasa’s true nature, and it takes great pleasure in using magical might to bring would-be heroes, especially those who invade its lair, to their knees. Such a game offers a marai enjoyment, however, only if subjects are unaware of the danger or at least unable to oppose it. A marai is 6 feet tall and weighs 160 pounds. Its serpentine arms render fine manipulation or wielding weapons unfeasible, and so it typically assumes humanoid form when working on experiments that require manual dexterity. A marai unable to do so must rely upon cantrips like mage hand for such tasks—or perhaps the aid of a slave or charmed ally.

The rakshasa is an evil spirit that cloaks itself in the guise of a humanoid creature that it might walk unseen among its prey. They embody what is taboo among most societies, and in the shape of those it seeks to defile, a rakshasa gorges itself on these hideous acts. Were they human, these acts of cannibalism, blasphemy, and worse would mark them as criminals condemned to the cruelest of hells. When not disguised as a humanoid, the otherwise humanoid rakshasa has the head of an animal. Often, they possess the heads of great cats (such as a tiger or panther) or a snake (like a cobra or viper), yet other heads are not unknown—apes, jackals, vultures, elephants, mantises, lizards, rhinos, boars, and more are possible. In most cases, the type of head a rakshasa possesses speaks in some way to its personality—a tiger-headed rakshasa is stealthy and ravenous, while a boar-headed one might be gluttonous and crude. These changes rarely impact the rakshasa’s base statistics, although there are more powerful variants of the standard rakshasa that possess multiple heads, more potent spellcasting powers, and additional deadly and unusual special abilities. Rakshasas scoff at religion— they understand the power of the divine, but see themselves as the only thing worthy of worship from the mortal races. Rakshasa clerics are thus quite rare. Although rakshasas are outsiders, they are also very much creatures of the Material Plane, and many believe the first rakshasas chose this exile over some other role offered them by a long-forgotten god. Although they usually work alone, it isn’t unheard of to find extended families of rakshasas working together to ruin a mortal civilization from the inside out over the course of many generations. A rakshasa is 6 feet tall and weighs 180 lbs.

Tataka rakshasas are the least subtle and largest of their kind. They are philosophers and fanatics, loyal servants of the rakshasa immortals. Their familiarity with religion and its trappings makes them excellent corruptors and blasphemers. Such rakshasas might assault sacred sites or rituals directly so as to foil good works and slay holy people. A tataka holds all religions in contempt save the worship of rakshasas, and it openly mocks and assaults any who dare believe otherwise. Tataka rakshasas are more than zealots, though, and they train from an early age in martial arts—their strikes can break bones as surely as any unarmed strike from a monk or other practitioner of such styles of combat. A typical tataka is 12 feet tall and weighs 1,300 pounds.

All rakshasas aspire to power, but there are those for whom this hunger is more than an obsession: It’s a birthright. Legends among the rakshasas tell of the maharajas—those rakshasas whose depredations and acts of cruelty have elevated them above others of their kind and allowed them to reincarnate as embodiments of every myth, fable, and cautionary tale involving the beast-headed fiends. Accorded the respect and deference of their lessers, maharajas inspire one emotion within the rakshasa race that few can: fear. A maharaja rakshasa emerges only after a rakshasa of great power and inf luence has spent several lives as a member of the samrata, the height of the rakshasa’s social-spiritual caste system. When a rakshasa ascends to maharaja status, others of its kind take notice, with rakshasas coming from far and wide to serve even a young maharaja—eager to curry its favor at an early age. The birth of a maharaja denotes that great change is imminent: The maharaja will fulfill some terrible destiny, found a lasting nation of rakshasas, undergo some manner of divine ascension, or defeat some greater foe and commandeer its domain, often splitting the region into large enough chunks for its lieutenants and servants to claim and still have room to expand. It is rare in the extreme for more than a handful of maharajas to emerge in the same century. So great is a maharaja’s power and influence and so long is its life that one can spend most of its time enjoying the luxury of its years of toil. When not manipulating armies or the machinations of lesser rakshasas, it can often be found surrounded by the most beautiful of its servitors—often charmed or dominated humanoids, or, if the maharaja is powerful enough, good-aligned outsiders—lounging in opulence. The lair of a maharaja is typically a glorious, decadent mansion. After decades or centuries of work, gold filigree decorates the columns, and great friezes embossed with rakshasa myths and folklore decorate the walls. Rather than couches or divans, luxurious pillows stuffed with exotic feathers and crafted from the hides of even rarer creatures serve for furniture, and all about hang the trophies of a centuries-long life of tyranny: the crowns of defeated rulers, the wealth of ruined countries, and the heads of failed lieutenants. A maharaja’s great experience and power, however, does not make it immune to or ignorant of threats. Disloyal servants, powerful kings, ambitious rivals, and meddling adventurers all might step forth to challenge a maharaja’s rule. To that end, a maharaja employs devious methods to ensure its own safety, with assassination, false rumors, and illusory doubles serving as useful tools to ferret out threats. Wary of attack and often with wide territories to control, most rakshasa maharajas have several secluded palaces and lavish redoubts, and travel among them endlessly.

RAKSHASA RAJADHIRAJAS
Each maharaja is unique, the process of its evolution granting it strengths and weaknesses that differentiate the being from all before it. Over its lifetimes, its path teaches it myriad lessons and grants distinctive powers. A typical maharaja is a master of divination, enchantment, and illusion. Other maharajas master various other techniques, such as necromancy or conjuration. As a maharaja continues to grow in malignant might, its powers outstrip those even of its peers. It might ultimately ascend to the rank of rajadhiraja—a king of kings. Even more so than the maharajas, the rajadhirajas are unique beings. A rajadhiraja is never lower than CR 21—most have additional racial Hit Dice beyond the standard maharaja. Each additional racial Hit Die granted increases the rakshasa’s CR by +1, but also increases its effective sorcerer caster level by +1 and grants a new spell-like ability that follows that rakshasa’s personal theme and philosophy. A rajadhiraja that fancies itself a master of space and time might gain the ability to use greater teleport three times per day or the use of time stop once per day, while one who sees itself as a master of forms might gain the ability to use shapechange once per day or polymorph at will. A master of combat might instead gain additional damaging spell-like abilities. The type of new spell-like abilities the rakshasa gains can be selected as needed—8th- and 9th-level spells should be usable once per day, 5th- through 7th-level spells usable three times per day, and spells lower than 5th level at will, though even these guidelines can be adjusted as you see fit to make a more interesting rajadhiraja. The cycle of reincarnation and the faint memories it imparts provide rajadhirajas with the distinct power to manipulate life and death according to this cycle. A rajadhiraja can use its mastery of reincarnation to alter these cycles for other creatures, and as a result, all rajadhirajas gain the following special ability in addition to their other powers.
Reincarnate (Su): Once per day as a standard action, a rajadhiraja can bring a dead creature back to life as if using the reincarnate spell, except that the target must have been dead less than 1 day and can have been killed by a death effect. As with any effect that restores life to a creature, the reincarnating creature can choose not to be reincarnated if it wishes, but if it does allow the effect to happen, it returns to life at full capacity, as if restored via true resurrection in a new form. Some rajadhirajas slay their own allies in combat, then use this ability to in order to allow the allies to continue the battle in a new body. The new form granted by this effect can be any form within one size category of the dead creature’s original size—the exact form of this new body is chosen by the rajadhiraja.