Wandering Monsters: Wandering Monster-ception

Rather than talk about monsters, this week’s Wandering Monsters column talks about the qualities of a good encounter, the purpose of random encounters, and asks how—or even if—you use either in your games.

The article states that a great encounter has history, a clear objective, and a meaningful outcome. I guess I can agree with these standards; I do not think that every great encounter has to have all of them, but it probably does not hurt. I would add that a great encounter should also be interesting and fun, which due to varied gamer tastes are harder standards to quantify but likely benefit from the previous factors.

An interesting encounter, to me, is one that goes above and beyond a handful of orcs in a corridor or a goblin ambush on a road. In a lot of earlier-edition combat encounters you pretty much just stood next to a monster and rolled dice until someone fell over. That is not really interesting, especially if the only “consequences” are you having to take a minute to tell the Dungeon Master that you are going back to town for the night.

4th Edition combat encounters are almost always more dynamic than in previous editions, and while I do not think that the game necessarily needs that level of tactical intricacy for every fight—especially not with “trash fights”, which I will get to in a bit—having some way to mix things up would go a long way to making them more engaging. Like, fighting an orc should not be fundamentally the same as an ogre; the ogre should be able to knock the characters around, or even throw them at each other.

Both Dungeon World and Numenera (and other games) solve this pretty easily with moves and complications respectively. In Dungeon World if a character rolls within a certain range the GM can just respond with a narratively appropriate move. No back and forth, no hard mechanics, it just happens. In Numenera the GM can impose a complication in exchange for a few points of XP, or at any time a character rolls a natural 1.

These sorts of complications can also be derived from the environment; a character or enemy could get knocked into a fire pit, trampled by a horse, slip on some rubble, stuck in a bog, entangled in vines, have their axe get stuck in a door, thrown through a window, blasted by steam, and so on. The point is that these elements can really liven up an encounter, and they do not need to be incredibly complicated or require numerous dice rolls.

Another thing that makes for a great encounter is purpose. I cannot think of a book or movie where the characters go into a room, beat up some henchmen, go into another room, beat up some more, then go into yet another room and beat up even more because that sounds incredibly boring. I have played a lot of action games and some of the worse parts are when you just fight waves of faceless, unnamed enemies. Yeah, it can be fun now and then, but eventually it gets to a point where I just want it to end.

In Dungeons & Dragons these are trash fights. They are just there to pad out the adventure or get the characters some more XP, because for some reason Dungeons & Dragons is using a XP system analogous to console games and extra lives. Seriously, 4th Edition became so, so much more fun when I stopped tracking XP and leveled up the characters when I felt it was appropriate. It also made it a lot easier to plan and pace the game when I did not have to worry about cramming 10+ encounters into a single adventure.

I am not saying to ditch XP altogether—though that is perfectly viable and should at least be a supported option—but there are plenty of games out there with far, far better systems for tracking character advancement.

Speaking of things that could stand to be ditched, how about random encounters? Some argue that they convey a sense of “realism” or emphasize how the game does not just revolve around the characters and their actions (though it can and often does). I disagree with this because there are other, better ways to demonstrate that an imaginary world featuring dragons, elves, and a nonsensical magic system keeps turning when you are not paying attention:

• A history, even a brief or implied one.
• A world map, or even mentioning locations that exist beyond the confines of a local map.
• NPCs with personalities, motivations, and goals.
• Actions with far-reaching rewards and/or consequences.
• Events that occur outside their immediate sphere of influence.

To me any one of these adds more realism to a fantasy world than running into a brown bear in a forest ever could.

A more baffling claim is that without them you might as well just be pushing your players through a script. Like, if you decide ahead of time that your players run into 2d6 + 1 wolves instead of 10d10 bats (or worse, decide the number of wolves and bats ahead of time) instead of deferring to a table that they have no capacity for choice, and that you might as well just back up your books and go write a novel.

By that logic why have a Dungeon Master determine anything? WotC could just make a big book with thousands of tables for you to work through in order to generate a world, history, dominant races, cosmology, gods, etc. You could even take it a step further and just have players roll on tables to determine their race, class, skill selection, and, why not, actions taken during the game.

I think that random encounters are largely a waste of time. In some cases they might be useful, but most of the time like older-edition traps they end up being a cheap way to try and shoehorn tension and urgency into the game. If the characters are trekking through a forest trying to find a ruin, unless I think of something interesting for them to deal with on the way I am probably just going to tell them that they get to their destination after x days.

I might have them make skill checks to reduce the time if I think that supplies are even an issue (which thanks to magic in some editions it is usually not), but I do not see a point in rolling to see if they run into something, especially when there is only about a 15% chance of that happening at all, the encounter is not even relevant, and any hit to resources can just be slept off. I actually did use random encounters for about the first half of my Epiro campaign, but they so rarely came up that I decided to just start pre-planning encounters.

That is actually the closest I get to random encounters; I write encounter “cliff notes” that I keep on tap as a fall back in case the players do something expected, I think of a good spot to add them, or if there is just enough time to include them. My group only gets a handful of hours each week to get together and game, so I try to make sure that they are getting the most bang for their time, and random encounters-as-written just have a horrible return on investment.

In the end I think that great encounters should be entertaining, have a meaningful outcome (by which I mean contribute to more than the XP grind or exist just to pad out an adventure’s length), and do not always have to be immediately related to the adventure, though it certainly helps. I get that not every encounter is going to be great, but most should at least be good, and making them random is probably not going to contribute to the fun-factor. I also think that both the older XP and random encounter conventions should be thrown out.

So, what do you think makes a great encounter? Do you think that the game still needs random encounters, or players to track thousands of XP for character advancement?

Wandering Monsters: Riddle of the Sphinx

This is admittedly not a bad start for sphinx flavor and lore. Mind you it still needs some adjustments, but it is much better than many of the previous Wandering Monsters columns. First, the good.

Despite kind of treading on the angel’s concept, I do not mind the divine origin: they look different, are more grounded in the natural world, and not every god has to have angels on tap. I really like the description of various tests, from withstanding an androsphinx’s roar, to escaping a gynosphinx’s imagination zone, to fighting against a grossly unfair friend-to-foe ratio. This not only makes it easy to use them, but allows you to use them in some really inventive and memorable ways.

And now the bad, or at least the parts that I disagree with.

Being created by divine power is fine. I have nothing wrong with gods making things, especially since they are, ya know, gods. What I am less keen on is making them transformed priests and monarchs. Having to sit in one place for who knows how long just to test people would quickly become tiresome to someone with a human’s (or human-like) mind, and I cannot think of many faithful that would be doing divine backflips over the prospect of being told that, in exchange for a life of devotion and service, to stay in one spot, repeat the same test over and over for anyone that happens to drop by, and kill them if they fail.

Given a lack of mortal needs, and to a point capabilities, I see no reason to assume that they think like humans, or even mortals in general. Why would they shirk their duties? They apparently were not created with the need to eat or sleep, so why would you give them the ability become bored? I liken this to Eberron angels and demons, who are eternally locked in a never ending symbolic war against each other. They do not get bored of the fight because they are not capable of becoming bored, or even realizing the futility of it all; it is an intrinsic part of their nature.

This is a reason why I am largely against “free-range” sphinxes (or glorified hippogriffs), but I guess if I had to include them I would have them serve dead or forgotten gods. I mean they do not need to eat or sleep, so what else are they going to do with their eternity?

Another issue are the types of sphinxes. Yes, 2nd and 3rd Edition had a variety of sphinxes with random heads, capabilities, and alignments, but I am going to do something unprecedented and suggest a break from tradition: instead of establishing a quartet of sphinxes, each with a specific appearance and suite of capabilities just so you can introduce more down the road in the Next Desert Supplement, why not get rid of sphinx presets entirely and…wait for it…give us a toolbox of sphinx parts, powers, and tests?

There are a lot of gods. They have their own portfolios, and many have an animal associated with them: Ares has his boars, Horus has falcons, and so on. So while some might go with the standard male-lion package, a female god of war might want a female-lion, or even female-wolf, to test someone’s valor. What about a god that creates a kind of skeletal, bat-winged sphinx that tests fear? I get that yeah, you can homebrew your own sphinxes and change the flavor, but I think it would be a lot better if they made things more inclusive and easier from the start, instead of doing what anyone can do and swap faces and spell-like abilities.

Speaking of spell-like abilities, given the lists that some of them had in 3rd Edition I am surprised that they each seem to only have one defining trait. 4th Edition proved that you can have quality over quantity (both in terms of spells and monsters), so hopefully they do something unique and interesting instead of just referring you to the spell chapter in the Player’s Handbook.

What I am also hoping is that if an androsphinx decides to test your valor by having you withstand its roar, or you have to escape from a gynosphinxes maze-effect that it boils down to more than just making a saving throw and calling it good. Really the other, more complex tests are the best part of the article, so rather than directing us to a dimensional pocket spell, or citing hard rules and restrictions for building extraplanar testing grounds, it would be nice if all we got were some examples and advice on making a fun, memorable encounter.

Like, if the sphinx wants to test your endurance by forcing you to climb a cliff in a storm, maybe even while fighting off flying monsters, it should not need to have control weather, summon monster y, and, I dunno, greater conjure cliffs; it can just do all of those things because that is what you need it to do. So that is where I stand. Make them somewhat alien in their thoughts and mannerisms, give them unique capabilities that not just any mid- to high-level wizard can do in a couple six seconds, and give us the tools to customize them on a god-by-god, test-by-test basis.

Wandering Monsters: Trite Trickery

Wandering Monsters takes a break from monsters this week to talk about what exploration means and various dungeon “tricks”.

Starting things on a positive note, I actually agree with the definition of what exploration is, as well as the bullet list of activities (which could be broken up into travel, problem-solving, and investigation). The only thing I would add is that more than just a category of things that can occur in the game, I think it is also important for adventure pacing.

>In other words it is not only the glue that holds your encounters together, but it is also the padding that keeps the game session from being an endless
sequence of fights and dialogue.

Kind of like how meat binders keep every bite from being cheap meat.

Where I start to disagree is when it mentions how you will “more often” rely on your wits while interacting with the Dungeon Master.

I have never liked this disparity, where it is for some reason okay to roll your Strength to scale a wall or Dexterity to balance across a narrow beam, but not when you want to use Intelligence to solve a puzzle or Charisma to fast talk your way past a guard. That is kind of the point of playing a game where you allegedly can pretend to be whatever you want, so why potentially close those doors to characters who might not be as intelligent or witty (or conversely, benefit a player who is smarter or witter than her character)?

Like pseudo-Vancian magic I cannot remember any bit of fiction where the main character sits around and fiddles with levels for awhile before continuing on with actual the story. It might amuse some Dungeon Masters to grind the game to halt for an hour or so while the players poke and push statues trying to intuit the correct combination of actions required to get on with the fun parts of the game, but that probably means that they are either bad or inexperienced. In either case advice in the DMG on how to avoid that sort of thing could be helpful.

It would also be nice if there at least guidelines, optional ones even, that inform you how a character’s mental and social strengths can help them overcome those sorts of challenges. If nothing else, I would at least like a system where characters can make ability score checks in order to gain hints. If puzzles are worth XP, then you could reduce or even waive the reward entirely if the group decides to make a check to bypass it. It would still not be equal, but at least it help prevent players from getting stuck at puzzles that their characters should not be.

When it comes to tricks I have never really maintained an “arsenal”, at least not like the fountain described in the article, which just comes across as confusing and random. I get that there is a lack of context, but the first thing that comes to my mind when I read the description is not interest or excitement, but why. Why everything. Why is it there? Why would someone go through the effort of constructing an elaborate fountain, enchant a gargoyle to ask a riddle and spray you with acid if you fail, and also enchant a nymph statue to clue you in on some treasure?

It just seems like the kind of thing that would take a long time to construct, enchant, and program, and for what purpose or payoff? To randomly spray explorers with acid, or reward them for answering a riddle? Seems kind of extreme in either case, and not the kind of thing that I would expect a wizard to do, or even something that someone would pay a wizard to do. All it does for me is pull me out of the narrative, and remind me that this is just a game, with a dungeon specifically designed to be explored and conquered.

If I had to describe my arsenal, it would be more like how you write and use Fronts, Dungeon Moves, and Custom Moves in Dungeon World; a list of contextually appropriate events–which can include bits of dungeon dressing, traps, monsters, and effects specific to the dungeon environment–and locations to draw inspiration from, add to the game session if I have the time (or remind me of stuff to use later), and fall back on if the characters go off the rails or do something else unexpected.

Barring specific circumstances I do not see myself using any of the map-muddling tricks, at least not with the express intent to “foil” the characters’ mapping endeavors. In that regard they seem cheap and silly, and like the fountain drag me right back into reality. I have heard of dungeons where if the characters step in a circle–or even an unmarked area–and it teleports them into some ridiculous death trap, or pit trap filled with oozes that closes after you fall in. I do not understand the draw of randomly killing characters, and like map tricks consider them equally cheap and silly.

I am fine with trick categories. Not sure if they are needed, but can see the use of having things better organized for reference so that if I am looking for the obstacles I know where to look.

What surprises me is that the author is bold enough to even suggest that traps as depicted in older editions might not be necessarily good for the game. I do not remember how traps worked in 2nd Edition, but in 3rd Edition it used to be that if you found one and disarmed it you got XP. If you found it and failed to disarm it by a certain margin, or just blundered into it without noticing then it triggered, and the effects varied depending on if it was a dart trap, pit trap, teleporting trap, etc.

The point is that what they were usually for was just a way to deal a bit of random damage before being forgotten. I called this underwhelming method “nut-punching traps”, and like save-or-die effects they are not good for the game, but a way for the lazy DM to try and peddle tension and danger. I find 4th Edition’s way of utilizing them much more engaging because it is advised that you use them with other encounters, and almost everyone in the party can help deal with them; it does not just fall to the rogue and a single die roll.

In regards to the three pillars the only thing I would change is to add traps and hazards to the combat pillar, too, as in 4th Edition the more memorable traps were those that were so elaborate that the entire party had to deal with them, or just a piece of the bigger picture.

Wandering Monsters: Demonic Doldrums

You know I cannot think of a single column of Wanderings Monsters that I have liked, or at least not one that I have regarded in a mostly favorable light. I read them, wonder why they would try pitching something so bland, confusing, uninspired, and/or that panders to previous editions for no discernible reason, and just hope that the final draft is much, much better.

Frankly I think that the flavor I cook up as a reaction to these articles is better, and I am not a professional in this industry by any stretch. Not only have these guys been in the business for years, but they have a whole team working on it, so why are the results almost always so…bleh?

Part of the problem with summoning magic is the same problem that has plagued magic in general: it is too safe and predictable (and makes no sense).

Trying to summon something from the Nine Hells or Elemental Chaos could be a big deal–it depends on what you are going for–but really never is: just wait until you get to a certain level, take a certain spell, and voila; you will always be able to reliably summon the same creature in a couple seconds, it will always listen to you barring some specific corner-case ability or effect, and once the duration elapses it will disappear whence it came (again, barring some corner-case ability or effect).

I think that how summoning magic works should vary from class to class, and if I were in charge of design wizards would unfortunately get shafted because I see them needing to spend more time than most drawing a circle, preparing ritual components, tearing open the planar fabric so that they can either attract or draw a demon through, then either bargaining with or imposing their will upon it.

How long it takes and how hard it is to get the demon to do what you want would vary by the strength of the demon. It should be easy even for a relatively green wizard to conjure up and boss around a dretch, while a babau is going to take some convincing. I would also give a bonus for taking extra time, using exceptional materials, being skilled in certain schools of magic (like abjuration), or having people helping you out.

Conversely you could eschew these things or cut corners, but then you would take a penalty to conjuring and/or containment. If classes and subclasses were flexible and not small preset bundles then you could introduce features that made you better at it, granting bonuses so that you could take shortcuts while still retaining some measure of reliability. Of course if you could still go through the motions anyway, making it do more or getting something even better.

On the topic of sacrifices, I really do not like the notion that you have to give a demon something. For low-level lackeys it might be necessary, but what about a powerful conjurer who knows truenames and has plenty of experience bending reality? Is forcing a demon to obey her through sheer force of will any different than unleashing bolts of force, reducing a giant to a toad, controlling someone’s mind, or crossing vast distances in the blink of an eye?

In my system sacrifices would not be mandatory, but could still be used to sweeten the deal (as could places of power and certain events). This is where you get groups of cultists all working together to get a powerful demon to do their bidding, often in a corrupted temple, possibly during an eclipse or at dusk, but a particularly skilled and powerful conjurer could still do it by herself sans offerings.

Finally I do not think that demon summoners and the act of summoning demons should be an intrinsically evil act. Most people probably do it for less than altruistic reasons, but you could still have exceptions, and I think that leaving those options open makes it easier on storytelling. Kind of like how some people think that all necromancy no matter what should be evil, but then you get “official” good-aligned totally-not-undead undead in Eberron. Just do us a favor and let us decide what, if anything, has to be absolutely evil.

Well that went on quite a bit longer than expected, so let us move on to gnolls.

The backstory for gnolls is that Yeenoghu gets summoned into the world, kills the people that summoned him for absolutely no reason, destroys a bunch of stuff, kills a bunch of people, and maybe gets beaten up by a halfling god. Some of the demonic hyenas get left behind and for some reason ignored, growing up to become gnolls. Also they somehow spread to other “known worlds” in the Dungeons & Dragons multiverse, because I guess Spelljammer was right all along.

Awhile back I mentioned that it is not always necessary to explain a monster’s origins, and if this is the alternative I would rather have not known.

Gnolls could be a race of hyena-like humanoids that dwell in ruined cities or gather around ancient, bloody shrines dedicated to some sinister hyena god. If anyone gets too close they just kill and eat them, so no one has learned much about them, and after while I would hazard a guess that no one wants to. They would not necessarily be evil, just territorial, but still work as antagonists for basic dungeon- or hexcrawling. Simple and straightforward.

Now if you want them to all be evil you can do that too, in a much more interesting, visible way. What if gnolls ventured forth from their ruined cities to pillage, destroy, and capture prisoners. They eat some, but not all, forcing them to fight each other for survival in bloody arenas surrounded by grinning obelisks, watched over by demonic gnoll rulers. Unfortunately the “winners” of these bloody, brutal contests, those willing to do whatever it takes to survive, are transformed into gnolls. Think the Firefly episode Bushwhacked, just a much more overt physical change.

Not working for you? How about hyena-like demons that possess humans and transform them into gnolls? The gnolls gather the necessary sacrifices, open a gate to the abyss, and allow them to possess mortals. This way you get evil gnolls that you can kill without having to think about it too much, and even better you could mix up cults of Yeenoghu with hyena-like demons, gnolls, and un-transformed humans. Think about an isolated village where humans secretly eat travelers, wield flails or claw bracers, and are lead by gnolls.

Of course nothing says gnolls have to be evil. They might be strange looking, territorial, and worship one or more strange hyena gods (some good, some evil), but otherwise have a culture, history, and varying personalities and goals. This is what I would do in a campaign setting where I wanted to allow gnolls as characters.

I do not even know what to say about Orcus‘s story. It takes place in Forgotten Realms, which has become the Naruto of campaign settings because it will never end. Actually given that it just keeps getting changed over and over with each edition despite no one doing anything remotely interesting with it, a more appropriate comparison might be Nintendo, who refuses to invent new heroes within their existing properties and just continues to keep recycling everything, sometimes adding a new gimmick.

I would like to see an Orcus backstory divorced from a specific setting, or that at least takes place in an interesting one.

Wandering Monsers: The Little Guys

When and how do you use kobolds and goblins?

For the most part I agree with the article when it comes to the bulleted basic elements, though I would expand the list to include a draconic heritage and sorcerer elements for kobolds, and goblins lairing in the wilderness (not necessarily just in caves or ruins). If a setting associates goblins with fey (or just makes them fey), then I would also make them adept at illusion or “shadow” magic to further differentiate them from kobolds.

“I’ve got a case of kobolds.”
I really do not like the idea of an innkeeper comparing kobolds to rats. If kobolds manage to tunnel into a cellar and start raiding your food stores that is nothing to shrug at, while waiting for two copper-piece adventurers to show up and tackle. After all rats are not going to prepare traps and ambushes for anyone that comes after them, nor will they sneak into your home at night and eat your face off.

Most of the time.

I am also not too keen on the comic relief angle; if anything having goblins be the violent product of excessive abuse seems more tragic than anything else.

While I do not deliberately play them up as comedic, natural 1’s happen and I do not mind having them trip up, hit someone else, or cause something to explode. However I extend that possibility to every monster, as well as across the screen. It just depends on what you were trying to do and what is going on. Making this a trope for either just unnecessarily downplays the threat they pose.

The example of goblins trussing up a farmer and pelting him with apples is both confusing and pretty tame, especially for a monster that is also evil. It almost sounds like something George Lucas would do if he were to rewrite an adventure module, right up there with naming the bad guy Count Grimevildark and having the skeletons say ow as the characters bash them to pieces.

No, the goblins do not dress up a farmer like a hobgoblin and bully him; they use him for target practice, carve patterns into his flesh, or subject him to a variety of other goblin “games” before he eventually dies. When his body is discovered the characters are more likely to see a grim reminder of the destruction they can inflict, than they are to shake their fist at the sky and proclaim, “Oooh, those blasted goblins are at it again!”

I am fine with goblins riding wolves. It gives them something else to team up with and add variety to encounters, though I think it would also be cool for them to also ride Medium-sized spiders, bats, rats, and similar creatures.

Or rat creatures.

Kobolds should also have mounts, like dire weasels, giant lizards, or felldrakes. What about kobolds on a rage drake howdah?

The classic/traditional goblin and kobold gods are alright. Nothing to write home about, but I think there is the start of something interesting. James mentions that not every setting will feature them, and I think that rather than try to cram in some cliff notes in the monster entries it would be better to relegate them to specific settings where they can be properly fleshed out.

Ultimately a lot of the defining features are fine, but both creatures need more depth beyond being evil for evil’s sake (without a compelling reason), living underground, and just existing to be killed. I do not think that goblins should exist to be bullied, and neither deserves to be the assumed butt of jokes.

Wandering Monsters: Easy Answers

The focus of this week’s Wandering Monsters is less monsters and more questions that can all be answered with the following statement: it depends entirely on the Dungeon Master and her setting.

Is it okay to kill orc babies? Do orcs even have babies? Both depend on the setting. In a lot of settings they seem to be used as a convenient monster that players can kill and rob without having to think about it too hard. Kind of like zombies, just stronger, faster, and technically smarter. Simple and straightforward, and there is nothing necessarily wrong with that because…

…you do not have to explain what they are or where they come from.

Orcs can just be destructive humanoids that randomly surge from beyond the mountains to plague “civilized” lands. Do they have babies? Who knows. Maybe they are corrupted elves, grow from Gruumsh’s lost eye, were cursed by a fiend (or angel), or worship a god of destruction. The point is if your players are never going to go over those mountains and try to put a stop to them once and for all, then why bother thinking about it too hard?

Well for one there are plenty of monsters that can already fill the role of guiltlessly-slayable humanoids, and do it better: most undead, fiends, and constructs come to mind. Lumping in orcs—and goblins, drow, gnolls, kobolds, etc—with them seems pretty boring and lazy. One of the many, many reasons I enjoy Eberron is because it made monsters more interesting, giving them a culture and involving them in the lives of the “civilized” races beyond ugly Medium-size humanoid bag o’ XP and cash.

My other gripe concerns D&D’s laughable alignment system: how does an “often Chaotic Evil” society even operate? There are plenty of parents in our society ill-suited for rearing children, but I cannot imagine that they would regularly perform worse than your average orc. If I wanted to throw orc babies into the mix and I had to use alignment (which I thankfully do not) I would make them Neutral/Unaligned; there are more creative ways to bring them into conflict than “because Evil!”.

I was unaware that in any Dungeons & Dragons source ever that someone tried to pitch the idea that dragons evolved from dinosaurs (which I prefer just being called behemoths, or something else). While I think there is a very good reason that both 3rd nor 4th Edition omitted that even as a potential theory (it sounds really stupid), does it really matter if dragons are reptiles, mammals, or something in between? Is it going to change anything? Who gains from either answer?

As with orcs, perhaps even more so because they are dragons, you do not have to determine where they come from. Their origins—and motivations, goals, capabilities, etc—could be a complete mystery, especially since it is very unlikely that a campaign is going to explore them: dragons just are, always have been, and will always be. Of course if I make the effort to establish an origin, you can bet that I am going to err on the fantastic side of things, having them born from gods, if not created around the same time that gods came into existence.

I really do not get the hangup on dragonborn. I have no problem with “dragonboobs” because like dragons—and really D&D things in general—they do not have to abide by real-world classifications. Again, does it really matter? Does anyone really care? My only issue with them is that they “officially” all look the same. In my campaigns Bahamut and Tiamat created their own race, which have scale colors, crests, horns, tails, etc similar to those of true dragons.

When it comes to combined monsters I am kind of on the fence. I have nothing against wizards doing weird experiments with weird results, I just find it hard to believe that a wizard created enough owlbears to make a self-sustaining species, though I would love to have a kind of chimeric toolbox to make it easy for Dungeon Masters to build one-off monsters to throw at their players.

Most of the time I see combined monsters as not combined at all, but just as “natural” as the animals that we expect to see in real life: griffons, hippogriffs, sealions, displacer beasts, owlbears, etc. If you had to create an origin, I would run with “naturally occuring”, nature spirit, god, or extraplanar transient before checking out the “wizard did it” angle. Maybe a magical event merged a bunch of stuff, but that might be stretching it.

Finally, races. The more the merrier. Make as many as you want, touch on their personality, appearance, and culture, but do not try to tell me which ones are common or unusual. In an upcoming setting I am working on dragonborn and devas are a pretty big deal, while halflings and dwarves are right out. Group them up thematically or whatever, but ditch the rarity system/unusual label; it serves absolutely no purpose except to potentially throttle the creativity of new DMs.

Wandering Monsters: You Don’t Know Drake

Felldrakes were originally featured in 3rd Edition’s Monster Manual II, where they were created by Bahamut to protect some elves after they helped beat back a demonic invasion. Hey, some gods give you a pat on the head, a glowing commendation (maybe even literally), or a magic sword, while others create an entire species.

From what I could find in Monster Vault, 4th Edition did not associate them with any race or even Bahamut, depicting them as beasts that fulfilled similar roles as other animals like wolves and dogs. Just, you know, “dragon-y”.

Is that awesome? Boring? Somewhere in between? What about the name? Inquiring minds would like to know.

Ultimately I like felldrakes. I think they are neat and used properly can better evoke the feeling of a fantasy world. I am not saying that they should replace more mundane fauna like dogs and wolves, but that including them as another option can enhance the setting, much like owlbears, displacer beasts, iron defenders, Medium-sized conveniently evil races, Small conveniently evil races, two-bladed weapons, and so on and so forth.

Plus they look awesome.

3rd Edition’s elven association seems kind of lazy and extreme; I just cannot fathom Bahamut whipping up an entire monster category just for them. If you wanted to associate them with dragons—which is not necessary given a lack of draconic traits aside from kind of their appearance—then I would just have them spring from the blood of Bahamut and/or Tiamat during a spat countless eons ago, or maybe the creations of a lesser draconic deity.

Oh, and I would just change the name to drake. Appending fell would make more sense if they were evil, which I would not expect them to be unless for some reason Tiamat was the only one in the business of populating the world with her terrible spawn. You know, like her…

Dragonspawn are both very strange and very forgetful. I vaguely recall the spider one, and the only reason I can think of the halfling-sized white ones, one of the green ones (razor-something), and the big blue ones with swords is because I have loads of minis (not by conscious effort).

The first thing I would change is the Tiamat-only aspect. I see no reason why she has the monopoly on unleashing dragon-ish monstrosities upon the world. Actually thinking back to 3rd Edition’s felldrakes, why would she create a variety of dragonspawn (some that are Huge and packing appropriately-sized swords) and Bahamut stick with felldrakes?

Because good is dumb?

The second thing is how they are made. I would have them be the byproduct of “legendary creature” effects; after all dragons can effect the terrain, so why not living things, too? If nothing else this provides yet another angle for doling out draconic traits to critters other than mad experiments and breeding, at least for things that you would not expect a dragon to breed with.

In this scenario you could, say, have a giant spider dwelling in the same swamp as an ancient black dragon slowly mutate over time into a…gloomspawn gloom gloomer or whatever. This could be easily handled by making a dragonspawn entry with lists of color-specific traits that you could attach to a creature, as well as some examples on how to alter its physical appearance.

Wandering Monsters: Basic Beasties

This week takes a brief look at some classics; the bulette (aka landshark), manticore, owlbear, and pseudodragon.

I could not find any stats for the bulette in Next, but if the manticore and owlbear are any indication I am guessing that it is going to be about as…straightforward as it was in 3rd Edition, where it could bite and claw you, or jump and for some reason only claw you a bunch of times. These are all pretty good examples of what I dislike about many monsters in Next: they just kind of stand there and trade blows until someone dies/runs away.

The manticore barely deviates from the formula by having a fly speed and ranged attack, so it can stay out of reach of the fighter and just annoy everyone with tail spikes until it runs out. One thing that gets me is, in a game where so many things are for some reason based on a per-day refresh, why they regrow at a rate of 1/hour (a rate that I would prescribe for many things, like hit points and spells). At any rate the most compelling out of the bunch goes to the owlbear, because if it hits you twice you are grabbed, and grabbed actually does something.

I am not surprised that there is nothing fresh about them, but given the existence of 4th Edition, Dungeon World, and 13th Age I am disappointed that this is what we are getting (especially after a year and a half). Oh, it is a bulette, it will bite you, or claw you, or maybe leap on you and claw you four times because for some reason it can leap really high.

4th Edition’s bulette could dig tunnels, causing characters to fall (and dealt bonus damage against prone characters), or burst from the ground and attack everyone nearby. These two moves go a long way to evoke feeling that you are fighting something that can quickly burrow underground, suddenly surfacing to strike. These are not even things that “need” a grid; if a bulette burrows underground everyone nearby has to make a saving throw to avoid falling, and when it pops out it gets to make an attack against everyone nearby. Of course if characters split up then it might just go for the squishies, which forces them to make a choice.

Wandering Monsters: Deceitful Devils (Or Is It Demons?)

Dungeons & Dragons does not exactly have the best track record when it comes to translating critters from real-world mythology into the game, so it does not bother me much if the succubus ends up being a devil, demon, or something else entirely. What does bug me is when someone argues that it should be a demon “because that is what is was before” and/or that the wikipedia article cites it as a demon.

In regards to the first argument I was one of those who preferred them as devils, both because a Lawful alignment seemed better suited for a being trying to use deceit and subterfuge to corrupt a soul, and devils in general had a strong theme of corruption (as opposed to Chaotic demons,
who favored the route of destruction).

Additionally I am of the opinion that repeating material from past editions just for the sake of repeating it is a terrible idea. This is why we have attacks and some spells determining success in different ways (except for magic missile, which is the only spell that automatically hits), a heavy reliance on magical healing, rigid classes, magic systems that make no sense at all, per-day resources, angels that just look like winged humans with different skin colors, curses with benefits, and more.

As for the second one, why stop there? Previous depictions of the succubus described them as monstrous rather than attractive, but even later representations made it so that close inspection could reveal features like bird-like claws or tails. They would also collect semen from men, then an incubus would use it to impregnate women, though I am not sure if they just give it to an incubus or change their gender. Interestingly the Arabian version could only be seen by certain people, and even then they would just see a cat, dog, or similar animal.

All of this sounds a lot more interesting than a woman wearing a devil costume that can make out with you and use a souped-up version of charm person as a spell-like ability. I would make them monstrous (or at least be unable to hide specific features), gender neutral (but able to change their shape and/or gender), and also tack on illusions so that they could at least pretend to give creatures whatever the desire most. It would also be cool to have a variant power set that would render them invisible to most people, or make them just see an animal.

But we will most certainly get a succubus that is female and sexy and will totally make out with you because that is how it was before.

I am also not too keen on the idea of making cambions specific to succubi. I get that that is how it works in mythology, but where does that leave tieflings, who will apparently have randomized physical traits? Are we going to have a unique name for each kind of half-fiend? Is there any reason that draegloths are specific to Lolth, or that durzagon are the result of an infernal bargain? Why not just make a set of half-fiend powers for each type of fiend that Dungeon Masters can attach and justify as they see fit?

That sounds a lot better and more useful than books filled with arbitrary race-fiend-flavor combinations.

Wandering Monsters: Dragons Revisited

The last time I recall dragons coming up there was mention of a “legendary” status that could, among other things, allow them to manipulate their environment in interesting, flavorful ways. It had a lot of promise, and so I find it disappointing that all of the dragons in the bestiary still look like 3rd Edition dragons (ie, the same but with different breath weapons).

Well, that is not entirely true; they do not have a big list of spell-like abilities, which is a plus in my book.

Personality-wise this article does not bring anything new to the table: green dragons are masters of manipulation and misdirection, and black dragons are acidic avatars that define decay. I actually like this about them, as both aspects are solid cornerstones for very diverse foundations. What I like even more is that unlike many of the previous Wandering Monsters articles, this one brings more interesting flavor to help get your creative juices flowing.

Green dragons and forests have gone hand-in-hand for awhile, though barring other factors these forests were pretty typical for Dungeons & Dragons (with “typical” being defined as “infested with more monsters than could be reasonably supported”). For now at least the Next generation of green dragons will not only be able to transform forests into fog-shrouded, hallucination-inducing mazes, but can even bend the animals to serve as its eyes and ears.

That…sounds pretty damned cool.

I like how 4th Edition provides recommendations for populating encounters with multiple types of creatures, so it is nice to see something similar here in the servants section (and I especially like the bit about how a servants mind can influence the hallucinatory sounds and images within the fog).

The section on hoards is not very long, and rather than defined items provides some themes to work with. Kind of a “teach a DM to fish” approach, which is more useful to me than a smattering of specific things, so I approve.

Finally, lairs. I guess the stated goal is to present the lair as an entire dungeon, which is pretty much how I have always seen it done in the past. To be fair it at least reads like it is going to be more interesting and extensive, benefiting from whatever legendary effects/moves are going to be called, like the disorienting fog (which can be souped up to slow or weaken the mind) and entangling roots.

The black dragon gets a similar treatment, just with pools filled with acid and/or food (ie, dead people), venomous vermin, lizardfolk minions, evil(?) shambling mounds and druids, and even kobolds get a shout out.

Lots of good stuff, which sucks that Next has been so unsatisfactory for me recently (though these ideas could be cribbed in other games). I can see a case for the green dragon’s effects being ported over to various fey denizens (even forest spirits), so I hope that instead of tying them to specific monsters that they just give individual effects or thematic packages for you to attach to whatever you feel is appropriate for your game.

You know, another toolbox thing.