|Attention, Adept of the LEXICANUM!|
With a body as long as a grown man, a Fell Bat is a fearsome sight. They are darker than midnight and silent as death, even when in full flight. In fact, the only noises that a Fell Bat makes on the hunt are horrible gobbling slurps when it sinks its distended mouth into living flesh. In truth, a Fell Bat bears as much resemblance to an ordinary bat as a maddened lion does to a domestic cat. Those who have encountered them, and lived, tell how they hunt with unerring accuracy, swooping down to knock knights from their saddles or pick off lone warriors unawares.
Vampires view Fell Bats much as a Bretonnian Lord might his prized hunting falcons. Precious sweetmeats are offered to Fell Bats from the ramparts of the Vampire's fortress, but to harness an entire flock, a grander sacrifice must be made. A fresh victim, belly-slit and screaming, or a terrified messenger sent to run into the night with his eyes put out is more to their taste. Once they have the scent of gore, they will fall upon the enemy battle line with bloodthirsty intent.