Gravetalon Stalker
- Adversary
- Skulk
- Tier 3
Appears in: Boss Fights, Wilderness and Survival
Gravetalon Stalker
- HP
- 6
- Stress
- 4
- Difficulty
- 17
- Attack
- +3
Hooked Talons: 2d8+3 phy
Stooping Pounce. Spend a Fear. The Gravetalon Stalker drops from a high perch onto a target within Close range and makes a Hooked Talons attack with advantage. On a hit, the target takes an extra 2d6 phy damage and is knocked Vulnerable until they Mark a Stress to right themselves.
Snatch Aloft. Spend a Fear. Make a Hooked Talons attack against one target within Very Close range. On a hit, the target is Restrained in the stalker's claws. At the start of its next turn the stalker may climb to a high perch, carrying the Restrained target out of reach of its allies until it is freed.
Vanish to the Heights. When the Gravetalon Stalker takes damage from a Melee attack, it may immediately scramble to a perch within Far range. Attacks against it have disadvantage until the start of its next turn.
Cull the Straggler. The first attack the stalker makes each turn against a creature with no allies within Very Close range deals an extra 1d8 phy damage.
How to run Gravetalon Stalker
Gravetalon Stalker is a tier 3 skulk for Daggerheart. Drop it into any fitting scene; the statblock above is free to add to your compendium in the app, and the one-shot below gives you somewhere to run it.
Where it begins
- 1
A supply column's rear guard vanished one by one over three nights, and each man's bedroll was found empty beside a single deep claw-furrow dragged off toward the ridge.
- 2
Crows no longer land on the old battlefield, and at dawn fresh-stripped bones hang wedged in the high branches of the lone dead oak above it.
- 3
A wounded courier crawled into camp swearing that something long-horned watched from the broken siege tower and plucked his escort off the road from above.
Picked From Above
A horned devil has claimed a corpse-strewn battlefield as its hunting ground and is dragging travelers off the road one at a time. The party must follow the kill-trail to its high roost, draw it down from the wreckage, and put it down before it carries off one of their own.
The Picked-Over Field
The road cuts straight across a field still littered with the wreck of an old battle: snapped spears, a toppled cart, rib cages gone gray in the mud. A boot sits upright in the ruts with the leg still in it and nothing else around. Above, a single deep furrow of torn earth runs from the roadside off toward a black ridge of broken timber.
The lone survivor of the last caravan is wedged under the toppled cart and will not come out until the party blocks his sightline to the sky. He can describe the long horns and the way it took the others without a sound, and point toward the ridge. The party can press up the drag-furrow directly, or circle wide to approach the roost from its blind side and trade a faster fight for a stealthier one.
