Let’s Convert the Monster Manual: Wild Camel, Carrion Crawler, Catoblepas, Wild Cattle, Centaur, and Giant Centipede, and Cerebral Parasite

I’ve been asked to convert the original Monster Manual in a manner similar to my conversion of the Fiend Folio. I am going to do this a bit differently, though, and just try to stick to the essence of creatures without referring to the text of the original work. This is, in part, because of my plans to create a monster book in the upcoming year. In this case, we are dealing with IP that is currently held by Wizards of the Coast/Hasbro, so I can’t imagine a published version of everything here coming out!

I don’t think that I am alone in having used carrion crawlers and giant centipedes as staple monsters, but the idea of having to succeed in eight saves vs. paralysis was always a bit too daunting to make me include too many carrion crawlers. I have modified that here to make a monster I think is fairer, but also to include actual rules for what happens once you are paralyzed. If you don’t think that my version is cruel enough, give the critter more action dice: 3d20, 5d20, or even 8d20. You could even make the number of action dice a function of age.

The catoblepas is another monster lifted from actual folklore or bestiaries. While I have used it, it has not been as frequently used because the original monster’s death gaze is just too good. I have tried to retain the essence, keep or enrich their ties to their classical origins, and make them a little more useable in play.

What can I say about cerebral parasites? The original monster was tied into the AD&D 1e psionics rules, and under those rules even if you included them in encounters there was not much chance of any PC having the psionic ability to really make them even be noticed. My version is considerably more dangerous. You’re welcome.

Wild Camel: See the Cyclopedia of Common Animals for both dromedaries and Bactrian camels.

Carrion Crawler: Init +4; Atk tentacles +8 melee (paralysis); AC 16; HD 3d8; MV 30’ or climb 30’; Act 1d20; SP paralysis, deposit eggs, infravision 60’; SV Fort +4, Ref +2, Will +1; AL N.

These creatures appear similar to gigantic cutworms, 1d3+7 feet long, sprouting eight 3-foot long tentacles from around their mouthparts. Carrion crawlers feed on carrion and offal, and do not have effective bite attacks until their food has spent a while decomposing. They are feared by adventurers because their tentacles contain a potent paralytic agent (DC 16 Fort save or paralyzed for 2d6 days).

If left alone with paralyzed victims, the carrion crawler then deposits eggs on the 1d3 least lucky targets. Easy enough to remove before they hatch in 1d4 days, thereafter the carrion crawler larvae do 1d6 damage to their hosts each day until the hosts are consumed, the hosts escape when the paralysis wears off, or some outside agency intervenes. Monsters of the underworld have been known to ingest carrion crawler eggs with their intended hosts, and then become victims themselves when the larvae hatch and consume them from within.

Catoblepas: Init +0; Atk tail +6 melee (1d6 plus stun) or death gaze; AC 13; HD 6d8; MV 20’; Act 1d20; SP stun (1d5 rounds, DC 12 Fort negates), heavy head, death gaze (100’ range, 1d4 Stamina damage plus DC 15 Fort or die), immunity to poison, toxic flesh; SV Fort +4, Ref +0, Will +3; AL C.

This incredibly foul and odiferous creature resembles a large buffalo with a long, snake-like neck and tail. A catoblepas has a heavy, boar-like head which is so heavy (in comparison to its long, thin neck) that it can only lift enough to use its baleful gaze every 1d5 rounds. The rest of the time, it strikes with a bony knob at the end of its tail. Blind creatures are not affected by the creature’s death gaze, and creatures which are not surprised can avoid this attack by averting their eyes (resulting in a -1d penalty to attack rolls and preventing line of sight).

These horrid beings live in salty marshlands, where they can consume the most poisonous of vegetation without distress. Their flesh, as a result, is highly toxic, and anyone tasting the slightest morsel takes 2d4 Strength damage must succeed in a DC 20 Fort save or die immediately. Even handling, or the smoke from cooking, this flesh is harmful: 1d4 Stamina damage and a DC 15 Fort save or 1d4 permanent Stamina damage. Thieves attempting to handle this material safely have a -1d penalty to their Handle Poison checks.

Catoblepases are attracted to moonlight, and on nights of the full moon struggle to keep their heads aloft, making them even more dangerous (1 in 3 chance of using their death gaze each round).

Wild Cattle: See the Cyclopedia of Common Animals.

Centaur: See the core rulebook, page 398. This post may also be of interest.

Giant Centipede: Init +3; Atk bite +0 melee (1 plus venom); AC 14; HD 1 hp; MV 20’; Act 1d20; SP venom (DC 8 Fort or 1d3 damage); SV Fort -4, Ref +3, Will +0; AL N.

Giant centipedes are described on page 398 of the core rulebook. These statistics are a little closer to a natural giant centipede such as that found in the Monster Manual. The venom of these giant centipedes cannot generally be extracted, and is so weak that few thieves or assassins would find attempting it to be worthwhile.

Cerebral Parasite: These are microscopic organisms which exist non-corporeally, and which are transmitted via psionic contact, such as through telepathy, mind-affecting spells, or even psychic attacks. When experiencing some form of mental contact with an infected creature, a DC 15 Will save is required to prevent infection. Although there is no immediate effect, in 1d5 days there are a sufficient number of parasites to cause 1 point of Intelligence or Personality damage (equal chance of each). Every day thereafter, the number of parasites doubles. On the next day, they do 1d3 Intelligence or Personality damage (randomly determine for each point), then 1d4, then 1d5, and so on up the dice chain until they reach 1d30. Once Intelligence or Personality is reduced to 0, any further damage to that statistic caused by the cerebral parasites is permanent, until the host is reduced to a vegetative state.

When first contracted, they can be cured with 1 HD healing via lay on hands, but as the infection grows, it gets more difficult to destroy: 2 HD healing when infection reaches the 1d5 points of attribute damage per day, 3 HD healing at 1d10 points, 4 HD healing at 1d20 points, and 5 HD healing at 1d30 points or when permanent damage has been taken.

For those capable of seeing auras or the invisible, a cerebral parasite infection appears as a spreading miasmal discoloration.

Let’s Convert the Monster Manual: Boar, Brain Mole, Brownie, Buffalo, Bugbear, Bulette, and Bull

I’ve been asked to convert the original Monster Manual in a manner similar to my conversion of the Fiend Folio. I am going to do this a bit differently, though, and just try to stick to the essence of creatures without referring to the text of the original work. This is, in part, because of my plans to create a monster book in the upcoming year. In this case, we are dealing with IP that is currently held by Wizards of the Coast/Hasbro, so I can’t imagine a published version of everything here coming out!

Of the creatures we are looking at today, a number are covered by the Cyclopedia of Common Animals, and I intentionally waited for Volume U-V-W to be completed before tackling this portion, as the three entries under “Boar” are all part of that volume.

I have never actually used a brain mole in an adventure, and the psionic system in AD&D was complex enough that I seldom used psionic-specific creatures. My version retains the general idea of a psychic attack, but makes leaving the area the best response. Dealing with an infestation of brain moles in the vicinity of a shrine, treasure vault, or other area the PCs want to spend time in could make for an interesting challenge.

Bulettes are another monster that I have seldom used, although I once owned the toy they were based on. These rubber monsters came out of vending machines, and I had several different ones, some of which were inspirational to the authors of the game. Two years ago, one of my players tracked a couple of these down, and gave them to me, which was lovely. I had no idea what bulettes were before acquiring the Monster Manual…I do recall some “silver bulettes won’t slow you down” jokes, and I am sorry that I couldn’t find a fun way to work that into the entry.

The write-up for brownies was very much based on an earlier blog post, which was itself based on work I had done when I was writing my own fantasy hearbreaker. One of the misfortunate things about various versions of D&D, in my opinion, has been making almost every creature into a combat challenge. I was working to bring faerie folk back to their original (often eerie and menacing) aspects. For some, this definitely includes violence, but for others avoiding combat is part of the creature’s character.

Boar: The original listing included wild boars, giant boars, and warthogs. See the Cyclopedia of Common Animals for all of these.

Brain Mole: This creature is similar enough to the thought mole in the Cyclopedia of Common Animals that it doesn't require alternative statistics.

Brownie: Init +4; Atk miniature tool +4 melee (1d3+4); AC 16; HD 2d5; MV 20’; Act 1d20; SP stealth +12, attach to household, work of 10 people, easily offended, curse, turn boggart; SV Fort +0, Ref +8, Will +5; AL N.

A brownie appears to be a three-foot tall, hairy man, frequently with only nasal slits instead of a nose.  They are shy and retiring, preferring not to be seen by those of mortal races. Despite their size they are fantastically strong. 

Brownies attach themselves to individuals or households, performing work in exchange for a bit of bread and a small bowl of the best cream. Like many fey, brownies are easy to offend, so that gifts (including food) left for a brownie must be placed for the brownie to find – they should not be obviously gifts.  Some few (10%) brownies have been known to accept other gifts without offence, such as a linen shirt once a year, but this practice is perilous because, should the value of the gift diminish or grow, the brownie will certainly take offence.                             

A brownie that is happy with its household can do the work of ten people, and will help with such tasks as harvesting, reaping, threshing, cleaning, keeping animals safe, spinning wool into thread, making shoes, baking bread, brewing, or any of a thousand other tasks that can be done while the household is asleep or is busy elsewhere.  Brownies do not like to be observed at their work, and intentionally watching them can cause them to be offended (50% chance). 

Most brownies stay hidden during the day, and most households with brownies know – and avoid – the spot where their brownie likes to hide.  This may be a dark corner of the house, a cellar or attic, somewhere in the barn, or even in a nearby hollow tree or ruined building.   A brownie who is disturbed in its hiding spot is 75% likely to take offence.

A brownie will also take offence if its work is criticized by a member of the household.  A brownie is intimately familiar with its household, however, and does not take offence against the household due to the actions of outsiders, so long as the response of the household is appropriate.  Such a brownie might well take offence against the outsider, though, and work some mischief to plague him.

A brownie that takes offence will (1d3):  (1) desert the household, (2) desert the household, and curse it at the same time, or (3) become a boggart to plague the household.  Typical brownie curses do not allow a save, causing a –1d6 penalty to all skill checks performed in a household. The curse lasts until the household somehow makes amends, it is magically lifted (remove curse, spell check 24+), or all the members of the household die.  Sometimes abandoning a household will work to avoid a boggart or a brownie’s curse, but there is a 25% chance that the boggart or curse will follow people who move to avoid them, regardless of how far, how fast, or how often they move.

Special types of brownies include:

Billy Blind:  A billy blind is a special type of brownie that usually dwells in or near the fireplace or chimney.  It is blind, but has the ability to prophesy.  Questions may be whispered up the chimney, and if the billy blind knows the answer, it will whisper it back down. 

A billy blind has a chance of knowing the answer to any question as follows:  100% if it pertains to the household (“Where did I lose my keys?”), 75% if it pertains to the area within 15 miles of the household (“Have any of my neighbours found my keys?”), 25% if it pertains to a more distant area within 100 miles (“Would my keys fit the locks in the Duke’s treasury?”), and 5% if the question pertains to an area more distant, or is truly esoteric (“Can you teach me the ritual to make a love potion?”). 

If the question concerns the future, the chance of the billy blink knowing the answer is reduced by –10% if it pertains to the immediate future (“Will I find my keys today?”), –25% if it pertains to the future within one year (“Will the weather be good this harvest time?”), and –50% if it pertains to an even more distant future than that (“Who will my youngest daughter marry when she has grown?”).

Boggart:  An offended brownie becomes a boggart.  It can be difficult to tell one from the other initially – stories tell of brownies who only reveal themselves to be boggarts when it becomes obvious that all the good luck of their household is at the expense of the (infuriated) neighbors.  In general, while brownies have only slits for nostrils, boggarts have sharply pointed noses.

Boggarts can be (1-3) mischievous, (4-5) malicious, or (6) even deadly.

A mischievous boggart performs pranks meant to annoy rather than to cause real damage.  It might hide important pieces of equipment, spook the livestock, clog the chimney, or rearrange the furniture while the household is asleep or out.  In many ways, the behaviour of such a boggart resembles that of a gentle poltergeist.  Any reasonable attempt to make amends with the boggart has a 50% chance of being successful.

A malicious boggart uses its abilities to harm the household, but isn’t seeking anyone’s death.  Such a boggart will ruin crops, lame animals, steal equipment outright (and it will seldom, if ever, be found again).  It will ruin materials, cut straps, put holes in pots, and otherwise prevent the household from prospering.  All skill checks made in the household suffer a –4 penalty due to the boggart’s sabotage.  Any reasonable attempt to make amends with the boggart has a 25% chance of downgrading it to a mischievous boggart.

A deadly boggart means to see its household dead.  It saws partly through saddle straps, balances blades over doorways, carefully places items near the top of stairways to cause falls, and so on.  In such a household, all skill checks suffer a –4 penalty due to the boggart’s sabotage, and each member of the household over the age of nine must make a Luck check each day or suffer 1d6 points of damage due to a boggart-inspired accident.  If the Luck check fails by 10 or more, the individual takes 2d6 points of damage instead.  Any reasonable attempt to make amends with the boggart has a 5% chance of downgrading it to a malicious boggart.

Brown Man:  A brown man, sometimes called a Buckawn or Bucca, is a type of brownie that protects natural regions.  Unlike most brownies, the brown men often travel in groups of 2d6 individuals and are not shy of being seen.  Often a single brown man will appear to mortals travelling in an area they protect, warning them not to harm beast or fowl in their lands, and to do no damage.  Those who attack the brown man, or violate his prohibitions, find themselves losing Luck, and possibly feathered with stone-tipped arrows sped by unseen hands.

Fenodyree:  The fenodyree is a large brownie, taller and bulkier than a man, and hideously ugly.  Like most brownies, it is shy around mortals.  The fenodyree aids in reaping, mowing, threshing, and herding during the hours between dusk and dawn. 

Killmoulis:  A killmoulis is a tiny brownie with an enormous nose, but no mouth.  It lives in mills, where it aids the miller by grinding grain during the night and keeping the mill free of mice and rats.  It attacks using a poisoned needle.  The needle does a single point of damage, plus poison (1d6 Stamina damage, Fort save DC 15 for half damage, rodents have a – 4 penalty to the save and take double damage).  Killmoulis apparently eat by stuffing grain up their noses, and can communicate by telepathy with a whispery-sounding voice at a range of 30 feet.

For another take on the killmoulis, see this post.

Victorian Brownie:  Compared to the traditional brownie, the brownie of the Victorian Era was smaller (as with the killmoulis), and formed more similarly to a human or elf.  They have normal noses, pointed ears, and are not exceptionally hairy.  A Victorian brownie never becomes a boggart or curses its household.  If offended, it simply leaves.

Buffalo: See the Cyclopedia of Common Animals.

Bugbear: See the core rulebook, page 397.

Bulette: Init +0; Atk bite +6 melee (4d12) or claw +8 melee (3d6); AC 20; HD 9d8+18; MV 40’ or burrow 10’; Act 2d20; SP leap attack; SV Fort +6; Ref +3; Will +0; AL N.

These large animals, also known  as “landsharks” can reach 9 feet at the shoulder and are 1d5+10 feet long. They typically burrow underground, hunting prey by vibrations, although their armored crest has a 50% chance of breaking through the earth and warning their victims 1d3 rounds before an attack. Once surfaced, a bulette that foregoes any other action or movement that round can make a leaping attack, leaping high into the air and coming down on a single opponent within 10 feet. The bulette makes four claw attacks (+4 melee, 3d6 damage per hit), and, if any hit the opponent must succeed in a DC 10 Reflex save or take an additional 3d6 crushing damage as the monster comes down upon them.

Because bulettes are primarily predatory animals, they prefer to attack the largest game animals they can reasonably hope to take down. This means that livestock or horses are at greater risk than humanoids.

Bull: See the Cyclopedia of Common Animals.

 

Let’s Convert the Monster Manual: Beholder, Black Pudding, and Blink Dog

I’ve been asked to convert the original Monster Manual in a manner similar to my conversion of the Fiend Folio. I am going to do this a bit differently, though, and just try to stick to the essence of creatures without referring to the text of the original work. This is, in part, because of my plans to create a monster book in the upcoming year. In this case, we are dealing with IP that is currently held by Wizards of the Coast/Hasbro, so I can’t imagine a published version of everything here coming out!

Here is a bit of personal history: While I have written encounters using beholders – and one 2nd Edition megadungeon I wrote/ran in California had a whole cavern system dedicated to them and their relatives on the lowest level – I don’t believe than a beholder has ever come up for me in actual play, either as a DM or otherwise. In fact, the first level of the Dungeon of Thale was so large that no one ever made it to a lower level despite years of play.

Beholder: Init +4; Atk bite +5 melee (2d6) or eyestalk ray +5 ranged (special); AC 22; HD 1d30+45; MV fly 10’; Act 5d20; SP anti-magic field, eyestalk rays; SV Fort +7, Ref +4, Will +8; AL L.

This monster appears as a levitating globe of chitinous plates, 1d3+3 feet in diameter, with a single enormous eye and maw on its front side. From the top of the globe sprout 10 flexible eyestalks.

The forward eye of a beholder projects a cone-shaped anti-magic field 90’ long with a 90’ base. Spells fail automatically within this field, and no magic item can function. A beholder can activate or deactivate this field using an action die, but this field is 95% likely to be active when a beholder is encountered. A beholder can also shoot rays from its eyestalks at a 90’ range, although these are magical and do not function in the creature’s own anti-magic field.

When a beholder uses it eyestalk rays, it can control which rays it uses, although it can only use each ray once per round. Each ray is assigned to a specific eyestalk, and a successful Mighty Deed can sever one (as can an attack doing 6+ damage, which does not otherwise harm the creature). Severed eyestalks take 1d5 months to regrow. Likewise, if the central eye is blinded, it heals within 1d7 months. If the judge in unsure which ray to use, simply roll 1d10:

1.         Charm person ray (Will DC 15 or view the creature as a trusted friend and ally for 1d6 days; humanoids only).

2.         Charm monster ray (Will DC 15 or take orders from the creature for 1d6 minutes; any creature is affected and language is not a barrier).

3.         Sleep ray (Fort DC 15 or fall into magical slumber for 1d6 rounds).

4.         Telekinesis ray can move up to 250 pounds with a +6 Strength bonus if opposed.

5.         Petrifaction ray (Fort DC 10 or be permanently turned to stone; this can be undone with the creature’s anti-magic field for up to 1d3 months).

6.         Disintegration ray (Up to 2,000 pounds of non-living non-magical material; if the item is held or worn a DC 15 Reflex save negates).

7.         Fear ray (Will DC 15 or flee in terror for 2d6 rounds, suffering a -2d penalty on the dice chain while fleeing).

8.         Slow ray (Initiative count reduced by -4, all movement and actions halved so that a victim with a single Action Die can only act once each round).

9.         Wounding ray (3d6 damage, DC 15 Fort save for half).

10.       Death ray (DC 10 Fort or die; magical healing cannot help but recovering the body is still possible).

These creatures are malevolent and intelligent, using their powers to control a network of agents within a given region. Although they hate each other, each wishes to be the mind that rules entire kingdoms or worlds.

Black Pudding: Init -6; Atk pseudopod +2 melee (3d8); AC 10; HD 5d8; MV 20’ or climb 20’; Act 1d20; SP dissolve wood and metal, immunities (weapons, cold, and acid); SV Fort +6, Ref -8, Will -6; AL N.

A particularly dangerous form of primeval slime (see pages 423-424 of the core rulebook), black puddings are only 1d4+4 feet in diameter, but are composed of countless colonial single-celled organisms which make it incredibly fast and tough for a slime. These beings can dissolve up to 2 inches of wood in a round, and can dissolve metal with devastating speed – weapons that strike a black pudding have their damage reduced by a cumulative -1d on the dice chain and are destroyed if reduced below 1d3 damage. Armor loses 1d3 points of protection each time it is hit by a black pudding – or if the black pudding would have hit had the armor not intervened!

Blink Dog: Init +4; Atk bite +1 melee (1d4); AC 16; HD 2d6; MV 40’; Act 1d20; SP blinking, teleportation; SV Fort +3; Ref +6; Will +3; AL L.

These intelligent canines have the unusual ability to “blink”, a form of short-range teleportation taking the creature 30 feet in a random direction. Use 1d6 on a hex map, or 1d8 on a grid, to determine direction with “1” indicating the direction the creature is facing; the author has a d8 marked with cardinal directions which is useful when using theater of the mind. Blink dogs automatically “blink” whenever an attack against them misses, or when they succeed in a Reflex save. A blink dog can also intentionally teleport to any spot within 30 feet, although it must use its action die to do so.

Although aggressively territorial, blink dogs are not necessarily hostile and are willing to bargain with good-willed humanoids.

Let’s Convert the Monster Manual: Baboon, Badger, Baluchitherium, Barracuda, Basilisk, Bear, Giant Beaver, and Giant Beetle

 I’ve been asked to convert the original Monster Manual in a manner similar to my conversion of the Fiend Folio. I am going to do this a bit differently, though, and just try to stick to the essence of creatures without referring to the text of the original work. This is, in part, because of my plans to create a monster book in the upcoming year.

My plan is to give statistics for roughly three monsters per post. Obviously, merely referring you to another source, such as the core rulebook or a blog post, doesn’t count…which is why there are so many entries per post so far!

However, in this case all of the animals mentioned (and more) are fully covered in the Cyclopedia of Common Animals. In addition, mandrills, normal-sized beavers, and both normal and giant barracudas are covered. Bears are pretty comprehensively covered in the Cyclopedia, with a dozen different types of bear and 14 statblocks.

Nothing to see here. Move along.

Let’s Convert the Monster Manual: Aerial Servant, Anhkheg, Giant Ant, Ape, and Axebeak

I was not exactly wealthy growing up.

When I moved from Holmes Basic to AD&D 1e, the first book I was able to buy was the Fiend Folio, and this was after working a summer at the Youth Conservation Camp in Minong Basin, Wisconsin. The first book I could access was the Dungeon Master’s Guide, because I had players who were better off than I was. If you are wondering why “Make Monsters Mysterious” resonates so powerfully with me, in those days I was operating for about two years without a proper monster book and only sporadic access to the DMG and Player’s Handbook. I had literally copied out the material I needed like a medieval scribe, and like the scribes of yore, thing weren’t always transcribed correctly! The DMG contained an appendix of statistics from the Monster Manual. Without the Monster Manual, trying to figure out what some of these creatures were was challenging. Eventually, I was able to obtain the Monster Manual and learn that a roper was not actually a horse-like predator with lariat-like snout-tentacles!

I’ve been asked to convert the original Monster Manual in a manner similar to my conversion of the Fiend Folio. I am going to do this a bit differently, though, and just try to stick to the essence of creatures without referring to the text of the original work in some cases. This is, in part, because of my plans to create a monster book in the upcoming year. For fun, where I was wildly off on imagining some creatures before I got an actual Monster Manual, I will try to stat out my teenaged ideas as well.

My plan is to give statistics for roughly three monsters per post.

Here we go.

Aerial Servant: I feel that the invisible companion spell, on pages 173-174 of the DCC core rulebook, more than adequately covers this entry.

Anhkheg: Init +2; Atk claw +3 melee (1d6) or bite +2 melee (1d8) or spit acid; AC 16; HD 3d8; MV 40’ or climb 20’ or burrow 20’; Act 2d20; SP surprise (DC 20 Intelligence negates), grasp, spit acid; SV Fort +4; Ref +2; Will +0; AL N.

These giant arthropods are built like a nightmare cross between a centipede and a praying mantis. They burrow beneath the ground, lying in wait with only their antennae exposed. They are able to sense the subtle tremors of creatures moving upon the land, up to 500 feet away, and burst upward from their shallow tunnels when something suitably large comes near. Attacking in this way, an anhkheg almost always gains a surprise round, although a DC 20 Intelligence check negates this, as may other circumstances as determined by the judge.

An anhkheg which hits the same target with both mantis-like claws grasps the target, doing an automatic 2d4 damage each round and gaining a +4 bonus to bite the grasped target. A successful DC q5 Strength check or Mighty Deed can free the victim.

An anhkheg can spit a glob of powerful stomach acid once every 1d4 rounds. This targets a single creature, which must succeed in a DC 12 Reflex save or suffer 4d4 damage. There is a 1 in 4 chance that a single dose of this acid can be taken from a slain anhkheg’s stomach with a successful Handle Poison check. Alchemists and similar characters are considered trained in this check, and a glass container must be available to store the acid in.

Giant Ant: Giant ants are covered on pages 294-395 of the core rulebook. 1 in 7 groups of giant ants has a special ability, as indicated below (roll 1d4):

(1) Jumping:  Some ants are capable of using their two rear sets of legs together in order to jump.  A giant ant with this quality can jump up to 20 feet forward and 10 feet upward.

(2) Spraying:  These ants can spray a stream of formic acid from their abdomens.  Giant ants can make a ranged attack roll, spraying up to 30 feet, with a +2 bonus to hit for 116 damage.

(3) Trap-Jaws:  These ants do not let go once they bite, automatically doing normal bite damage each round after the initial bite.  In addition to the damage, characters bit by these ants are considered to be grappling with them (a DC 15 Strength check can force the jaws apart).  The jaws remain clamped fast (and the character remains grappled) even after the ant is killed.

(4) Venom:  These ants are poisonous.  In addition to damage, the bites require a DC 15 Fort save to avoid suffering 1d6 points of Stamina damage for 1d4 rounds.

This entry uses material from this post. You will note that I toned down the original.

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Ape: The Cyclopedia of Common Animals covers a plethora of ape types.

If you are a regular reader of this blog, and not a member of my Patreon, you may be forgiven for wondering just what the Cyclopedia of Common Animals is. It is just what it says on the tin, with over 500 statblocks for everything from areas infested by gnats or mosquitoes to the largest of dinosaurs. Domesticated animals of all types are included, lots of venomous critters (like spiders and snaked), game stats for illnesses transmitted by ticks and mosquitoes, stats for rabies, and the like.

Whether you are looking for a giant banana spider, a honey badger, a giant shrew, or that chicken your 0-level farmer is carrying around, there is a good chance that you can find it in the Cyclopedia.

Axebeak: Init +2; Atk beak +5 melee (1d8) or claw +2 melee (1d10); AC 14; HD 5d6; MV 40’; Act 1d20; SV Fort +4; Ref +3; Will +0; AL N.

This horrifying flightless bird has a thick, sharp beak which it can wield with deadly force as well as sharp-clawed legs which can eviscerate opponents. They are large enough to be ridden by humanoids wearing nothing heavier than chaimail, and have been domesticated in some dark corners of the world.

From the Frozen North

Mammoti: Init +3; Atk giant warhammer +15 melee (3d10+10) or giant knife +10 melee (3d4+10) or trunk +8 melee (3d6+10 plus grab) or or tusks +8 melee (4d6+10) or stomp +6 melee (5d10); CRIT 1d6/G; AC 17; HD 12d10; MV 40’; Act 2d24; SP grab (automatic damage each round without using an action die until an opposed Strength check vs. +10 or Mighty Deed of 6+ succeeds), immunity to cold, crit on 20-24; SV Fort +4; Ref +2; Will +3; AL C.

Passing up the coast from warmer climes, one eventually reaches frozen icefields and tundra. Here dwell the giant mammoti – humanoid mammoth elephants with four arms and a warlike attitude. With a height of 15-18 feet, the mammoti (singular and plural) shepherd herds of mammoths in the cold reaches, feeding off their milk and flesh.

Because the mammoti are few, humanoid raiders sometimes seek to cull their herds and escape before being noticed. It is said that, in the enormous dwelling places and feasthalls of the mammoti, a fortune in mammoth ivory awaits those brave, skilled, and cunning enough to obtain it.

(With thanks once again to Noble Hardesty for the artwork!)

 

More Fun at the Seaside

Once more, thanks to the generous art contributions of Noble Hardesty, your PCs can fear the waves even more than they already do!

Giant ARMnemone: Init +0; Atk weapon +4 melee (1d6+2) or weapon +2 ranged (1d4) or bite +1 melee (2d6); AC 14; HD 6d8; MV 20’; Act 6d20; SV Fort +6; Ref -2; Will +4; AL C.

Related to the common anemones of tidal pools and coral reefs, these monstrous creatures have replaced the normal anemones’ tendrils with a multitude of arms which can wield a plethora of weapons. Most of an ARMnemone’s weapons are simple melee ones scavenged from shipwrecks and victims, but sometimes an ARMnemone uses single-handed ranged weapons as well. Rather than the simple maw of their lesser kin, giant ARMnemones have huge mouths filled with gigantic teeth.

Giant ARMnemomes possess an evil intelligence that grows throughout their long lives. After several centuries, a giant ARMnemone can spontaneously grow into an ARMageddon (see below).

ARMageddon: Init +0; Atk claw +8 melee (2d6+6) or tail fist +10 melee (3d6+6) or bite +6 melee (3d6) or spell; AC 24; HD 8d20+16; MV 20’; Act 8d20; SP channel phlogiston, death throes, spellcasting; SV Fort +16; Ref -10; Will +20; AL C.

Its mouth sprouting into an enormous head, as two of its arms thicken to become monstrous, an ARMageddon sprouts bat-like wings too small for flight. Where once it fastened to the sea bed, rocks, or coral, it grows another colossal fist. Over a matter of pain-filled hours, the creature takes in raw energy from the phlogiston itself, growing to a towering size in the process. Its malevolent intelligence entirely bent to hatred of land-dwellers, the ARMageddon goes on a rampage until the coast is decimated or it is slain itself.

The smaller arms of an ARMageddon no longer wield weapons. Instead, they channel raw phlogistonic energy into spellcasting. An ARMageddon gains the ability to cast 1d7 random 1st level, 1d5 2nd level, and 1d3 3rd level wizard spells. They cannot spellburn, but they are absolutely able to enter into spellduels. Because of variables in the phlogistonic flow, when it casts a spell an ARMageddon rolls 2d6 to determine its bonus to the spell check.

When reduced to 0 hp, the ARMageddon explodes in a blast of raw phlogiston, doing 3d10 damage to everything within 200 feet. Living creatures within 60 feet must roll 1d20, modified by their current Luck modifier, and consult the following: (5 or less) Creature suffers greater corruption, (6-10) Creature suffers major corruption, (11-19) Creature suffers minor corruption, or (20+) Creature suffers no additional effect. At the judge’s discretion, a creature rolling 25 or higher may gain a random mutation from the Mutant Crawl Classics tome.

There is a 20% chance that a unique organ within the ARMageddon’s brain survives the explosion. A wizard or elf can use this is a power component to fuel a single spell, granting a +2d6 bonus to the spell check but requiring a Will save (DC equal to the bonus) or suffer major corruption as the spell is released. Using the organ in this way consumes it utterly.

Another Seaside Encounter

Thanks to the generous art contributions of Noble Hardesty, your PCs now have a few more reasons to avoid the oceans! Port cities provide opportunities for those on land, but they also provide opportunities for bold raiders riding the waves….

Captain John “Ironsides” Jellico: Init +2; Atk canon slam +5 melee (1d8+6) or fist +5 melee (1d6+6) or iron canon +4 ranged (60’range increment, 3d10); AC 16; HD 5d8+5 (35 hp); MV 20’or swim 20’; Act 1d20; SV Fort +4; Ref +2; Will +3; AL C.

Ogres are stupid, crass creatures overall, but Captain John Jellico, called “Cap’n Ironsides” by his crew, is a cut above his kin. Crass and cunning, Captain Jellico is far from the brightest on his crew, but none is so eager for command that they will fight the Captain one-on-one per the Pirate’s Code. And it is true that the ogre buccaneer has led them to some serious booty on daring raids along the sea lanes.

Captain John Jellico uses a canon that he is strong enough to carry and fire himself. He carries a pouch of a dozen three-pound iron balls for ammunition. Although it takes him a full minute to reload between shots, he is more than happy to use the canon as a melee weapon or strike opponents with a massive fist.

Since coming aboard, and more so since killing the previous Captain Spiner in a pirate’s duel, John Jellico has made the Catspaw feared and hated wherever it goes.

Cheater’s Ring

This cursed ring is made of gold and silver. With pleasing decorations making the whole seem to be worth 80 gp. However, when acquired in any manner other than as a gift, the bearer must make a DC 20 Will save or immediately become convinced that it is a perfect gift for a loved one, or, barring that, some worthy they wish to influence, such as a powerful noble or wealthy merchant.

However, the ring never fits the person it is given to.

If received as a gift, the recipient must make a DC 20 Will save or feel slighted by the gift, and seek to get rid of it by whatever means seem feasible (such as selling the ring). While the gifter may be able to salvage the relationship, the magic of this pernicious band is long-lasting, and some special quest (or series of quests) might be required to prove the gifter’s fidelity.

 

Based off this Facebook post.

Evil Alien Jellyfish

Quivering Jelly: Init +0; Atk psionic vibrations; AC 7; HD 1d7; MV swim 20’; Act 1d20; SP psionic vibrations (60’ range, 1d6, Fort DC 15 for half), liquefy victims, teleportation, telepathy; SV Fort -4; Ref +0; Will +6; AL L.

Alien, intelligent jellyfish native to the planet Madkeen, those beings now known as “quivering jellies” migrated en masse to another world when their planet’s oceans began to die. Peaceful and indolent on their own world when the salt waters carried the nutrients needed to sustain them, these creatures were forced to adapt or die upon relocation. Unfortunately, they relocated to the campaign world and have had centuries to adapt.

Unlike most terrestrial jellyfish, quivering jellies cannot sting. Instead, their tendrils are used for swimming, manipulating objects, and filter feeding nutrients from the water. On Madkeen, they defended themselves by psionically setting up vibrations in living tissue. Lightly “buzzing” predators was usually enough to warn them from approaching further.

Now, this same power is used to supply much-needed nutrients. A quivering jelly can target a single living creature within 60 feet, who takes 1d6 points of vibrational damage as the jelly’s psionic power begins to shake it apart (Fort DC 15 for half). When reduced to 0 hp, a target can take further damage until it reaches -20 hp, at which point the body is liquefied and can be neither healed nor recovered. Attempts to heal a fallen creature must also heal any negative hit point damage, as it is real damage happening to the body. Once a creature is liquefied, it can be slowly consumed if the jellies involved do not feel threatened.

Note that this is an exception to the rule that normally hit points in DCC do not go lower than 0, but then again, monsters do not need to play by the rules.

Quivering jellies can use an action die to psychically teleport up to 10 feet, which they can use to leave combat without provoking free attacks. Very large groups of quivering jellies can use this ability to teleport even farther – even interstellar distances – but this is time consuming and leaves the quivering jellies exhausted and helpless for 2d6 hours. This is, indeed, how they came to the campaign world.

Although quivering jellies are telepathic and can communicate with other intelligent creatures to a range of 200 feet, having to use their formerly defensive power to obtain food has changed them. From being wise, philosophical beings revered for their wisdom, they have become thoroughly twisted until they see empathy for other beings as a weakness.

Quivering jellies are found in warm saline waters, in tropical or sub-tropical areas. Although lawful, their communities only number 4d6 individuals as larger groups have difficulty finding enough prey. These communities maintain contact with each other, though, and individuals work together with frightening intelligence to ensure a constant supply of nutrients.

Based on this Facebook post.

Brain Spiders

Brain Spider: Init +2; Atk bite (venom); AC 8; HD 1 hp; MV 10’ or climb 10’; Act 1d14; SP venom (Fort DC 12, 1 Personality on a success, 1d3 Personality on a failure), daze (30’ range, DC 5 Will to act); SV Fort -10; Ref +2; Will +2; AL C.

Brain Spider Swarm: Init +2; Atk swarming bite +1 melee (1 plus venom); AC 9; HD 4d8; MV 10’ or climb 10'; Act special; SP bite all targets within 20’ x 20’ space, half damage from non-area attacks, venom (Fort DC 15, 1d3 Personality on a success, 1d6 Personality on a failure); daze (30’ range, DC 10 Will to act); SV Fort +0, Ref +10, Will -2; AL N.

Monstrous Brain Spider: Init +2; Atk bite +0 melee (1d3 plus venom); AC 12; HD 1d3; MV 20’ or climb 20’; Act 1d20; SP venom (Fort DC 12, 1d3 Personality on a success, 1d6 Personality on a failure), attraction (50’ range, DC 10 Will or move toward spider and lose all actions); SV Fort -4; Ref +3; Will +2; AL C.

Giant Brain Spider: Init +3; Atk +4 melee (1d6 plus venom); AC 14; HD 2d8; MV 30’ or climb 30’; Act 1d20; SP venom (Fort DC 20, 1d4 Personality on a success, 3d4 Personality on a failure), attraction (100’ range, DC 15 Will or move toward spider and lose all actions); SV Fort +3; Ref +3; Will +6; AL C.

Brain spiders are intelligent creatures which are capable of working together in swarms. A normal-sized brain spider is only about the size of a human hand. Singularly or in swarms, they emanate a psychic field that dazes other (non-brain spider) creatures in their vicinity, and makes it difficult for those creatures to act. Brain spiders can choose not to daze creatures, but need not use an action die to turn this power on or off. Their venom affects the victim’s Personality, eventually rendering them catatonic and helpless.

Monstrous and giant brain spiders are even larger. Monstrous brain spiders are cat-sized, while giant brain spiders are slightly smaller than a human. These brain spiders do not simply daze creatures in their vicinity, but their emanations can make creatures take no other action but move toward the brain spider at their normal Move.

Brain spider venom heals normally. A thief may extract 1d4 doses of venom from a giant brain spider with a successful Handle Poison check, but other versions of this spider are too small to yield adequate doses. If a PC speaks the language of spiders, they may be able to convince the creature to supply venom willingly, granting a +1d bonus to the Handle Poison check.

Based on this Facebook post.

Gary Con 2025

 

This has been tough the last couple of years, due to health and finances. I hope to do this for many more years to come, but I am not sure how that will go. I hope to see you there! Silver badge event registration is this Saturday.