Learn From My Mistakes!

Cross-posted from this thread on Reddit. This was a thread on judging tricks for people new to Dungeon Crawl Classics, but it touched upon both why I love this game and my GMing philosophy in general. I thought it might be worth sharing to a wider audience.

I posted this advice:

(1) Roll your dice in the open. This is a big part of tension in a role-playing game.

(2) Lean into the Dice Chain. Instead of tracking niggling modifiers, pop attack rolls, damage, whatever, up or down on the Dice Chain.

(3) Start with a funnel. It sets the expectation that life is cheap and balance is an illusion.

(4) Have fun. This is so much more important than people might realize, but if you don't have fun running a game, what is the point of running it?

(5) Things will go south. This game is swingy. Spell checks (good or bad), crits, and fumbles call all cause the narrative to turn on a dime. Embrace the chaos. It isn't your job to know how it is all going to end, just to determine what happens now because the entire thing has shifted sideways.

Which is all fine, as far as it goes. Then a post was made about the 1^st level cleric spell, blessing. The author of the post seemed to think that it needed serious nerfing, and I disagreed. I wrote:

I wouldn't nerf it, personally. Sooner or later the cleric will roll in their disapproval range and you are going to really enjoy that.

Remember that every failed spell check increases disapproval range by 1, and you cannot Luck yourself out of disapproval.

Also, there are natural consequences to clustering around the cleric and waiting for a blessing. You need at least a 28 to get a 30' aura, because the PCs are unlikely to remain within 5' or 10' and be effective. Opponents will not wait for the spell to go off, and will eventually start targeting the cleric if they are intelligent. Theater of the mind (which I use) should not make this difficult; the warrior who charges forward is no longer 5 feet away from the cleric. And if 6 PCs try to stay within 5 feet of one of their number, the judge is 100% correct to deny non-ranged attacks, or even penalize attacks and damage as they get in each other's way like the Six Stooges.

This also requires the cleric to cast the spell on themselves, and whether you are blessing an ally, an object, or yourself should be determined before the dice are rolled. An ally gets a max 20' radius at 32+.

A 6th level cleric with an 18 Personality has a +9 bonus to spell checks, and would have to roll a 19 or better to get a 30' aura blessing. The same cleric at 1st level needs to roll a natural 20 to double their spell check bonus. If this is happening during every combat, the problem is not in the rules.

Also, read the rules about Sinful Use of Divine Power. If the cleric treats their god disrespectfully, there are consequences. Standing outside a door, casting the same spell again and again until you get what you want certainly counts.

As the evening progressed, my thoughts kept circling around to this:

I've been thinking more about this

The biggest mistake you can make when judging DCC is thinking that some particular outcome should occur. The fight should be easy. The fight should be tough. The PCs should find the treasure, or negotiate with the hermit, or have to run from the dragon.

But DCC is its own thing, and it is swingy, and you are far, far better off just letting what happens...happen. Some games want to force the outcome that the writer/GM envisioned. Or that the players envisioned. DCC is not one of those games.

Distance, spell check requirements, and disapproval already put limits on Blessing. I've had a similar discussion regarding the spell Enlarge, where the judge allowed the player to gain all the bonuses of being 12 feet tall with none of the obvious drawbacks (like door size and ceiling height). If you allow all the benefits, but none of the drawbacks, it isn't the rules that are broken.

In a way, DCC is like gambling. Every class has a trap built into it, where yes, you have this really cool class power (be it Luck Die, spells, Mighty Deeds, etc.), but if you push it too far sooner or later you are going to have to pay the piper. Using that Luck Die (or Lucky Halfling ability) can do amazing things, but it means that your Luck is now lower, and a Luck check may be just around the corner. Spellcasting risks disapproval (for clerics), and patron taint, corruption, or misfire for wizards and elves. That shield bash for the dwarf looks great - but it is also a 1 in 14 chance of a fumble. Those Mighty Deeds put you at the forefront of combat where, sooner or later, something is going to roll a critical against you.

Let them laugh and play while the dice are hot and on their side. You might as well enjoy it. It won't last. Revel with them when they are victorious. It won't last. Roll your dice in the open. Don't pull punches. Don't nerf their clever ideas. The Wheel of Fate is always in motion.

This isn’t what you’d do in, say, Dungeons & Dragons, and is the most important lesson Dungeon Crawl Classics taught me. I didn’t learn it right away. I resisted. But I am glad it got through my thick skull eventually.

Learn from my mistakes!

Let’s Convert the Fiend Folio: Caterwaul and CIFAL

Early this afternoon, I paid the shipping invoice for all of the Weird Frontiers goodies that are coming my way. It is appropriate, then, that the monsters from the Fiend Folio in this post would work particularly well in a Weird Frontiers game. The Caterwaul practically screams “American West!” while the CIFAL would be at home in almost any setting.

The CIFAL is actually an unusual creature, in that it was called out by earlier reviewers for its science fiction name, but it is a creature one could see in almost any fantasy setting. The CIFAL is at home in Mutant Crawl Classics, Umerica, Crawljammer, or lurking around the town of Portsmouth. It is as close to a universally usable monster as there ever was.

My versions of each of these monsters vary somewhat from the source material. I have eliminated the need for a table to determine the Caterwaul’s uncanny Agility, hopefully making the creature easier to include in random encounter tables. Back in the day, I didn’t want to transcribe the table into my notes, and I didn’t want to have to carry more books with me than I had to. Here, there is a die roll involved, but it is hopefully not to onerous to cut and paste into your adventure.

The CIFAL I made both easier to deal with in the short term (reduced its Hit Dice by half), but more potentially dangerous in the long term (it might collapse into insect swarms). I prefer published adventures to have all the stats in their text, but understand why some adventures refer you back to the core rulebook. I am still traveling away from home to run games, and still prefer to carry as little as possible. I would recommend including insect swarm stats in any adventure where you use a CIFAL…possibly because there are insect swarm encounters leading up to it.

And this seems to be a good time to address the elephant in the room: Most of the Fiend Folio creatures are OGC, but I am working here directly from the Fiend Folio. That means that, if I wanted to publish this content, I would first have to revise to remove any text coming directly from the Fiend Folio. It also means that, should you ask and receive permission to use my conversions in a published adventure, you would be well advised to do the same. It shouldn’t be too difficult, but protect yourselves out there!

Likewise, if you are a publisher, and you are thinking “Raven Crowking Monster Book!”,  yes, I have already done enough material to fill it, and yes, I would be interested.  Just make sure you have talked to Goodman Games first, because I believe a monster book kickstarter is coming out soon, and I am not sure how open they would be to the idea.

 

 

 

Caterwaul

Caterwaul: Init +2 (or better); Atk Claw +3 melee (1d4) or bite +1 melee (1d6) or screech; AC 14 (or better); HD 4d8; MV 30’ or sprint 90’ or climb 20’; Act 2d20; SP: Screech, sprint, uncanny Agility, stealth +8, keen senses; SV Fort +2; Ref +2 (or better); Will +3; AL C.

The caterwaul is an unusual bipedal feline, similar to an evil mountain lion, which can drop to all fours to sprint for up to 2 rounds each turn. Their fur is midnight blue, and their eyes yellow. They have an uncanny Agility, which is variable by specimen, and which potentially adds a bonus to Initiative, Armor Class, and Reflex Saves. When encountered (or when preparing an encounter), roll 1d7: (1-2) No additional bonus, (3) +1 bonus, (4) +1d3 bonus, (5) +1d4 bonus, (6) +1d5 bonus, or (7) +1d6 bonus, and the creature gains an extra Action Die.

It can screech once per combat, and is usually part of its initial attack. This does 1d8 damage to all that can hear it within 60’ (Fort DC 10 for half). Deaf creatures are immune. Its keen senses mean that it is seldom surprised, while its stealth allows it to often surprise others.

A caterwaul pelt in good condition can fetch 50 gp or more from those with the means to pay.

 

 

CIFAL

CIFAL: Init +0; Atk contact +4 melee (1d12); AC 14; HD 5d12; MV 20’ or fly 20’; Act 1d20; SP Damaging touch, break apart at 0 hp; SV Fort +8; Ref +4; Will +2; AL N.

A CIFAL is a Colonial Insect-Formed Artificial Lifeform, comprised of several insect swarms that have come together as a single amorphous creature. Its contact attack does damage through thousands of tiny bites and stings; and this damage is sustained by any creature touching the CIFAL through a natural attack, attempt to grapple, and so on.

When a CIFAL is reduced to 0 hp, the insects which form it lose cohesion. The individual who caused the final damage must make a Luck check. If this succeeds, the insect components simply flee, crawling or flying as their nature dictates. If the Luck check is failed, they instead form 1d3 insect swarms (see the core rulebook, page 419, which then attack.

Let’s Convert the Fiend Folio: Carbuncle and Caryatid Column

I cannot tell you how sad I was when I checked the Fiend Folio and discovered that there are eight monsters whose names begin with “C”. I really wanted to talk about converting the seven “C”s, but the Clubnek got in the way. I am going to say that it was the Clubnek because, really, it’s just a variation of the Axebeak from the Monster Manual that doesn’t really bring anything new to the table. On the other hand, we don’t have an Axebeak in Dungeon Crawl Classics, and a creature very much like it does appear in at least one Robert E. Howard story, The Gods of Bal-Sagoth, so I’ll be glad to convert it when the time comes.

As a side note, unrelated to the Fiend Folio, many thanks to those who came to the Sword & Board for DCC Day and many thanks to the Sword & Board for hosting!  We had nine people participate in Dissolution in the Cradle of Nightmares, the first playtest of a tournament funnel I am writing. Following that we had something like a dozen folks for Chanters in the Dark. The store ran out of materials, and, sadly, they only got in the single instance of the Blue Dice.

Anyway, on to the monsters!

 

 

Carbuncle

Carbuncle: Init +1; Atk none; AC 18; HD 1d3; MV 15’; Act 1d20; SP: Empathy, telepathy, prophecy, stealth +10; SV Fort +4; Ref +1; Will +5; AL N.

The carbuncle is a small creature, similar to an armadillo, with a large ruby set in its head. This jewel is part of the animal, and shatters into worthless dust should the carbuncle die. However, it is possible to coax the creature into giving up its gem, which is worth 3d50 x 10 gp if obtained in this way. A carbuncle which voluntarily releases its ruby regrows a new one at a rate of 1d3 gp per day, to its maximum value, starting 1d7 weeks after the previous gem is released.

Charming the creature might get it to release its jewel, but the more common method of enticing a carbuncle to enrich a would-be ruby owner is through camaraderie. Every day spent in a carbuncle’s company grants a cumulative percentage chance (equal to 5 + Personality modifier) that the creature will surrender its gem. No matter how large the group, this chance is only given to one individual, and it comes with its own perils.

Carbuncles have empathic abilities, can communicate telepathically, and have minor powers of prophesy over immediate future events. Although carbuncles have limited sentience, their empathic powers give them a fair understanding of individual character. They often seek to accompany adventuring parties, and will communicate this telepathically. Whether due to a morbid interest in death (as some sages suppose) or because they feed in some manner on nearby deaths (although they typically subsist on leaves and insects), carbuncles also use their telepathic abilities to cause disruption within a group, using selective prophecies, true and false, to breed hostility, suspicion and even fighting between party members. Carbuncles may even communicate secretly with nearby monsters, goading them into attacking the party.

Having achieved its objective, a carbuncle watches the events in morbid fascination and then, choosing an opportune moment, it quietly slips away.

 

 

 

 

Caryatid Column

Caryatid Column: Init +0; Atk Longsword +5 melee (1d8); AC 15; HD 3d12; MV 20’; Act 1d20; SP Construct, break weapons; SV Fort +12; Ref +2; Will +8; AL N.

Similar to stone golems or living statues, caryatid columns are constructed beings that follow specific commands – guard a treasure chest, prevent intrusion into a particular area, and so on. It becomes animate as soon as its programming is triggered. If its creator is nearby when it animates, a caryatid column can be controlled by simple verbal commands. Occasionally, a caryatid column may be linked to an object (such as a bracelet), allowing the wearer to avoid triggering it, or even to command it if it becomes animate in the wearer’s presence. Caryatid columns are almost always placed as guardians, performing some defensive function.

When a mundane weapon strikes a caryatid column, the bearer must succeed in a Luck check, or the weapon is destroyed. Magical weapons are immune to this ability. Particularly large, power, and/or solid non-magical weapons may also be immune, at the judge’s discretion.

For another interpretation of the caryatid column, see here.

Caryatid Columns in the Real World

It is well known that caryatid columns were crafted by the ancient Greeks, where they were especially employed as defenders of the temple of Artemis Karyatis. There are also male versions, known as atlases or telamons. Later sculptures were made in imitation of these early caryatids, but the later ones were not generally imbued with the psuché which differentiates an ornamental sculpture from a deadly magical guardian.

The triggering conditions for many of these ancient guardians has never been met, and they remain in place even now, awaiting a call to animation that may never come. When a caryatid completes her task, she returns to her place, so that some of the ancient caryatids may have succeeded in whatever protection they are charged with, and again await the call to action. Missing caryatids were presumably destroyed in the attempt.

Although their magic may have long ago faded – no one alive now is an expert on their creation, or how long the psuché which empowers them may last – archaeologists have wisely removed the arms from most of the remaining ancient caryatids, thus reducing their effectiveness should they awaken. At least two caryatids were instructed to defend against this very precaution, and were destroyed with no small difficulties by agents of the British Museum, shortly before the outbreak of World War II.

Let’s Convert the Fiend Folio: Bullywug and Bunyip

This is another post converting creatures from the Fiend Folio, and will probably be the last post before DCC Day on Saturday (16 June 2022). I don’t have a lot to say about the Fiend Folio this time, but I do have a bit to say about DCC Day.

First off, on Monday night I was on the Maw of Mike talking about the DCC Day releases, including The Book of Fallen Gods and the dice sets linked to it. Then on Wednesday, I was on Picks From the Print Mine going up against Emogoth about Chanters in the Dark. One wonders whether or not I should try statting up Emogoth…..? Or should I just let the mystery remain……? In any event, when Dieter made the joke about using octopus-people in his desert campaign, he should know that it happened once on Aridius.

 

 

Bullywug

Bullywug: Init +2; Atk bite +0 melee (1d3) or crude spear +0 melee (1d6); AC 14; HD 1d6; MV 10’ or hop 40’ or swim 60’; Act 1d20; SP: Infravision 30’, hopping charge, camouflage (+5); SV Fort +1; Ref +3; Will +0; AL C.

Among the many servants of Bobugbubilz, the hoping hordes of the bullywug tribes are neither the strongest nor the best, but they are numerous. These batrachians humanoids dwell in wet places – rainforests, marshes, damp caves, and so on – because as true amphibians they need to keep their skin moist.  

Bullywugs can hop up to 40’ once every other round, and can combine this with an attack to gain a +4 bonus to hit. After such a hopping charge, their AC takes a -4 penalty until their next action. Their skin, which is normally a grayish-green hue, has a chameleon-like quality, helping them to blend in with their surroundings and making it easier to hide.

Some tribal groups are intelligent enough to use shields, gaining a +1 bonus to their AC for doing so. Any group might have priests dedicated to the God of Evil Amphibians, with various levels of spellcasting ability (the judge is encouraged to use the Acolyte and Friar as a baseline, but advanced bullywug groups might even possess members capable of casting clerical spells or invoke patron). These individuals may have a +1d5 bonus to hit points, at the judge’s discretion.

Likewise, tribal bands may have larger individuals with +1d4 hit points and a +1d3-1 bonus to attack rolls (minimum +0). Great chiefs have 3 Hit Dice, a +4 bonus to attack rolls, and a +2 bonus to all saving throws.

 

 

Bunyip

Bunyip: Init +2; Atk Bite +4 melee (1d5); AC 10; HD 5d8; MV 20’ or swim 60’; Act 1d20; SP Crit range 19-20, special crits; SV Fort +3; Ref +5; Will +2; AL C.

Creatures originating in native Australian folklore, there are several types of beings and water spirits which have been known by this name. The bunyip described here is a large seal- or dog-like water creature found in freshwater pools, marshes, and slow-moving rivers. They do not like fast water. Although relatively slow on land, it is swift and graceful while swimming.

Bunyips are large and strong enough to capsize small boats. They are attracted to swimmers, which they often attempt to bite. Whether they are mischievous, malevolent, or just natural predators depends very much on who you ask. In either event, while in the water, they have an extended crit range (19-20) and roll 1d8 on a unique crit table, below. Like all critical hits, the roll is modified by the target’s Luck modifier (with positive modifiers reducing the roll).

Crit Table: Bunyip

1 or lower: The creature’s razor-sharp teeth cause an additional 1d4 damage.

2: The wound continues to bleed profusely, causing 1 point of additional damage each round, until the victim receives magical healing or spends at least 1 round binding their wounds.

3: The victim is pulled under, or has their wind knocked from them. Unless they succeed in a DC 10 Fort save, they take an immediate 1d3 temporary Stamina damage. This is recovered after 10 minutes of rest with breathable air.

4: The bunyip’s teeth slice into the victim like razor blades, causing an additional 1d8 damage.

5: The attack turns the victim around in the water, disorienting them. The bunyip immediately gains a free attack with a +2 bonus and a crit range extended to 18-20.

6: The bite severs a hand or foot, causing an additional 1d5 damage. Roll 1d4: (1) right foot, (2) left foot, (3) right hand, or (4) left hand. A lost foot caused a 10’ reduction in movement speed and causes a permanent 1d3 points of Agility loss; 5’ of move can be restored with some form of prosthetic. If a hand is lost, the victim loses 1 point of Agility permanently.

7: The bite severs an arm or a leg, causing an additional 1d10 damage. Roll 1d4: (1) right leg, (2) left leg, (3) right leg, or (4) left leg. A lost leg reduces movement speed to 1’ (that is 1 foot) and causes a permanent 1d5 points of Agility loss; some speed can be restored with some form of crutch or prosthetic. If an arm is lost, the also victim permanently loses 1d3 point of Agility.

8 or higher: The bunyip bites into the torso, causing an additional 2d5 damage. The victim is stunned and unable to act for 1d3 rounds (and may begin drowning as a result). Further, the victim must succeed in a Fort save (DC equal to 10 + total damage done) or die at the end of this period.

Let’s Convert the Fiend Folio: Bonesnapper and Booka

Each of these posts has started with an image of the Fiend Folio on the left, and enough reminisces or meanderings to match the text to the size of the picture (at least, as it appears on my screen). There is some part of me that wants these posts to look good (again, at least to me), yet there is a limit to what I can say about particular monsters. This well is going to run dry long before I finished all the conversions for this book!

I don’t have any fond memories from using bonesnappers. I don’t believe that I ever did. That the creature collects bones, and particularly jawbones, does provide a good detail for creating atmosphere and context. This is especially true if the judge allows the PCs to discover scavenged corpses with bones missing, and then the scattered bones themselves. Finally, because the creature is fairly slow and well-armored, with a reasonable number of hit points, adventurers using hit-and-run tactics might gain a distinct advantage. I would imagine that bonesnappers lair in twisty caverns where missile weapons cannot be used effectively.

Conversely, depictions of fey-type creatures in early Dungeons & Dragons were pretty lousy. Brownies and leprechauns are not (generally) combat opponents. Other fey-types from the Monster Manual had a tendency to steal comely PCs away, which is folklorically accurate, it wasn’t necessarily fun. In effect, these became “save or die” monsters where death only lasted a year or so.

One thing I can honestly say is that Wizards of the Coast, and, more importantly, third-party publishers of the era like Goodman Games, did fey better than TSR did. The only real exceptions to this were to be found in the Fiend Folio, or, earlier, in the pages of White Dwarf. These faeries were more than annoyances, or monsters to be fought or avoided. They felt like they fit into the landscape of the game.

 

 

Bonesnapper

Bonesnapper: Init -2; Atk bite +3 melee (1d8); AC 16; HD 4d10+8; MV 20’; Act 1d20; SP: Infravision 60’, tail sweep (+0 melee, 1d4 damage); SV Fort +6; Ref -2; Will -2; AL N.

The bonesnapper is a slow, stupid descendent of a long-extinct carnosaur. It has an instinctive drive to collect the bones (and, most obsessively, jawbones) of various creatures, and uses these to decorate its subterranean lair. Both males and females use these bone collections to attract mates, and the larger the collection, the tougher the bonesnapper tends to be (usually in terms of hit points, but the judge may adjust attack modifiers, damage, saves, and/or hit dice to reflect a particularly strong or weak specimen.

If a bonesnapper succeeds in its bite attack, it gets a free attempt to sweep its tail at the same opponent (+0 to hit, 1d4 damage).

 

 

Booka

Booka: Init +5; Atk none; AC 13; HD 1d4; MV 30’ or fly 50’; Act 1d20; SP Invisible at will, faerie tricks; SV Fort -3; Ref +6; Will +3; AL C.

Booka are foot-high faeries which dwell in attics, in eaves, and on sunny rooftops. They hate cold, staying indoors and close to chimneys in winter months or colder climes. On  bright, sunny mornings they sweep the stairs or porch of the place they dwell in when there is nobody around to observe them. If disturbed during such tasks, booka grow angry. If the inhabitants of the home are lucky, the booka immediately remove to a new house. If they are unlucky, the booka will target them with pranks until they earn forgiveness.

Booka become invisible at will (increasing AC by +4 and causing a 50% chance for a miss even on a successful hit). They play tricks on those who anger them, and evil creatures (whom they hate), if given the opportunity. These tricks include hiding valued objects; tangling things like rope, hair, and clothing; and generally causing trouble. If a booka is captured or harmed in any way, this trouble becomes worse, resulting in situations where a DC 1d5+9 Fort or Reflex save is required to avoid 1d3 points of bodily harm.

Nor is making amends to the booka a simple matter. Freeing a captive is not enough. Bribes of gold, gems, jewelry, and even magic items may be placed as offerings on a rooftop, but their disappearance is not proof that the bookas are placated. If they remain angry, bookas will eventually arrange some sort of fatal accident, setting all manner of snares and traps for the subject(s) of their ire.

See also Brownies.

Let’s Convert the Fiend Folio: Blindheim, Blood Hawk, and Giant Bloodworm

I was in high school when the Fiend Folio came out. There were different schools of thought on the artwork then. It was very different from what we’d seen in Advanced Dungeons & Dragons before. Some thought it was amazing (myself among them), and others had a harder time wrapping their heads around it. For me, it was my first experience with Russ Nicholson’s artwork.

That was 1981. Jump ahead 35 years to 2016, and my first stand-alone title for Goodman Games is being published. On top of the amazing thrill of having Doug Kovacs produce a cover for something I wrote, imagine my immense thrill upon opening it to see that Russ Nicholson had produced illustrations for some of the creatures therein! This is a thrill that took me right back in time, and you can find the illustrations in The Dread God Al-Khazadar. Now, if I can get an Erol Otus illustration of something I write, I think my teenage self will be retroactively complete!

(None of which is to take away from any of the other fine illustrators I have had the pleasure of working with over the years. I have managed to write an adventure with a Clyde Caldwell cover, and a Ken Kelly. As of this Saturday’s DCC Day I will have a cover by Stefan Poag. But it is something else to see artist you have gushed over before you ever imagine you might be published illustrating your work. Especially those you loved as a kid. There is a kind of joy in that!)

Blindheim

Blindheim: Init +3; Atk bite +1 melee (1d5) or eyebeams +4 ranged (3d6, 2d6, or 1d6); AC 14; HD 4d8; MV 25’ or climb 15’ or swim 50’; Act 1d20; SP: Infravision 120’, eyebeams; SV Fort +2; Ref +4; Will +1; AL C.

A blindheim is a humanoid amphibian whose large, froglike eyes reflect even the smallest amount of light to devastating effect. They dwell deep underground, in damp caverns where blind fish and crustaceans provide them food. Blindheims live in small family groups, gathering together semi-annually only to spawn. How these groups know when to gather for spawning is a mystery, but is probably tied into the creature’s biology. Skin colouration and pattern varies widely by family group.

When a blindheim is exposed to light – even as little as candlelight – its eyes can absorb, focus, and transmit that light to deadly effect.  Three rounds after exposure, the blindheim can attack with a beam of cohesive light which does damage dependent upon the distance of the target. At a 40-foot range, the beams do 3d6 damage.  They begin to lose focus after this distance, doing only 2d6 damage up to a range of 50 feet, and 1d6 damage to a range of 60 feet. The creature has a nictitating membrane that allows it to withhold its eye beams if it desires to.  When not emitting eyebeams, a blindheim’s eyes glitter with a golden-yellow hue.

Young blindheims are born from a gelatinous mass of 4d20 eggs.  The strongest and first born eat the weakest until only 1d6+2 blindheims remain; at this time they become a new family group.  Newborn blindheims look rather like pale yellow fish with large, goggling, eyes.  They grow rapidly, attaining adulthood over a period of six months.  They gain the ability to use their eyebeams when they develop limbs, at about 4 months of growth – these juveniles have only 2d8 Hit Dice and bite for 1 point of damage, but their eyebeams are fully developed.

Blindheims need to survive until their eyebeams charge, after which they are still best off attacking from range.  As a result, blindheims are likely to first be seen from a distance, their eyes shining in the dark.  Once a blindheim’s eyebeams are charged, they are likely to remain charged so long as the blindheim remains in combat with light-bearing creatures. Blindheims will therefore use their ability to climb and swim to stay away from opponents. Blindheims seldom fight to the death, except in their spawning grounds.

 

 

Blood Hawk

Blood Hawk: Init +4; Atk Beak or claw +1 melee (1d3); AC 13 HD 1d4; MV 10’ or fly 60’; Act 1d20; SV Fort +0; Ref +4; Will +2; AL N.

Blood hawks are about 2 feet long, with a 6 foot wingspread. They resemble other hawks, but are particularly aggressive. Some claim that they are particularly fond of human flesh, but they are instinctively driven to line their nests with shiny pebbles and objects, and gems, buckles, and bits of other polished bits of metal worn by travelers may easily provoke an attack. 

Their nests are sometimes sought out in hopes of finding such treasures.

 

 

 

Giant Bloodworm

Giant Bloodworm:  Init +0; Atk Bite +2 melee (1d8 plus blood drain); AC 16; HD 6d8+12; MV 15’; Act 1d20; SP Camouflage (+5), blood drain, fire vulnerability (x2 damage); SV Fort +5; Ref +1; Will +0; AL N.

Giant bloodworms are usually found in the shallow pools of underground caverns. They cannot swim, but propel themselves along the bottom of such pools or on nearby firm ground. Their underbelly is a dark slimy brown while their upper surface is mottled green. Lying half in, half out of a pool, a giant bloodworm is easily mistaken in dim light for a moss-covered boulder (+5 bonus to opposed rolls to recognize it as alive).

A giant bloodworm only attacks when hungry (and they need only eat once weekly) or if trodden on. When it successfully bites a victim, it holds on until dead, or until a Mighty Deed of 5+ or opposed Strength check (vs. +5) has dislodged it. A successful attack with a flaming brand (or other source of fire) will also make it release its grip. A bitten victim suffers an automatic 1d6 damage per round until released. It takes only one human-sized victim to satisfy a giant bloodworm, but this includes the creature subsequently swallowing the body, making recovery difficult or impossible.

Let’s Convert the Fiend Folio: Babbler, Giant Bat, and Berbalang

While there is a lot I like about the Fiend Folio, not every monster is equally cool. It is completely okay to have utilitarian monsters. This book has a few monsters which are either completely utilitarian, or relatively uninteresting. Sometimes there is a good monster lurking in the shadows, but the author failed to get their intent across adequately.

Other times, as is the case with giant bats, the monsters are so obviously useful that they already appear in Dungeon Crawl Classics. There are going to be times when I simply refer you to the core rulebook, an adventure, or some other published source. In other cases, I might re-imagine or expand upon already published work. There is no reason that every goblin needs to use the same statistics, and a lot of good reasons (Make Monsters Mysterious!) why they should not!

This time, though, we are also converting the Berbalang, a creature from Filipino folklore, and one of the most interesting (to my mind) monsters in the Fiend Folio. The original writing was by Albie Fiore, who also wrote the Carbuncle, the Dragonfish, the Fire Newt, the Giant Strider, the Grimlock, the Quipper, the Susurrus, and the Vodyanoi. I am not prepared to say that these are all great monsters, but I have used more than half of them!

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Babbler

Babbler: Init +3; Atk bite +3 melee (1d8) or claw +1 melee (1d6); AC 14; HD 5d8+5; MV 20’ or slither 40’; Act 3d20; SP: Camouflage +6, scent, slither; SV Fort +4; Ref +2; Will +2; AL C.

Sometimes called marsh-gibberers, babblers are wetland-dwelling, 8-foot-long reptiles which resemble small carnosaurs when upright. While slow upright, they can slither along on their bellies at twice their walking speed. When prone, they are hard to see, gaining a +6 bonus to stealth checks. A prone babbler can only attack with its bite, and has only one Action Die. When upright, it gains two additional Action Dice to make claw attacks.

Babblers give off an odor which animals find disturbing. Animals detect this scent from a considerable distance, so that those travelling with animals are forewarned of a marsh-gibberer attack.

These creatures are named for the sound they create, which is perhaps a language, but which has defied non-magical analysis thus far. They are cunning enough to work with lizardmen, and some sages believe that babblers are a weird offshoot, or mutation, of the more common lizardman strains.

 

Giant Bat

See Core Rulebook, pp. 396-397

 

 

Berbalang

Berbalang (Astral Form): Init +2; Atk Bite +0 melee (1d6) or claw +2 melee (1d4); AC 14; HD 1d6+1; MV 20’ or fly 60’; Act 2d20; SP Infravision 120’, astral projection; SV Fort +1; Ref +2; Will +6; AL C.

Berbalang (Material Form): Init +2; Atk By weapon +2 melee (by weapon); AC 12; HD 1d6+1; MV 30’; Act 1d20; SP Infravision 120’, astral projection; SV Fort +1; Ref +2; Will +6; AL C.

The dread berbalang, when hunting, appears to be a humanoid with leathery skin and bat-like wings, but this is the form of its ghoulish soul, sent forth from its body as a solidified form of astral projection. Berbalangs walking in their daytime bodies appear like normal human beings, save their pupils are slitted like a cat’s. Berbalangs are said to be solitary, but this is merely wishful thinking. Whole villages of the hateful creatures exist, posing as human. In other cases, human villages may protect one or more berbalangs, under the hopes that the ghoulish monsters will prey on neighbors and rivals instead of the host village.

Berbalangs spend most of the month hibernating in a well-protected or well-hidden location, while its astral form is projected forth, hunting and killing creatures weaker than itself. Berbalangs only eat in their astral form, which is another way to identify them, but they are driven to consume human flesh at least once a month. It is believed that their astral form also consumes the soul, and that it is this which sustains them.

It takes a berbalang a mere 1d20 rounds to enter into a trance and project its solidified astral form. However, a roaming berbalang takes 1d100 rounds to return to its material body if that is discovered. If the material body is slain, the bereft astral form is also slain 75% of the time. Otherwise, it becomes an astral searcher.

If its astral body is damaged, the berbalang immediately attempts to return to its material body. If it is able to merge, the material form is undamaged, and the astral body is completely healed. If the astral body is slain, the material body dies with it.

Let’s Convert the Fiend Folio: Assassin Bug and Astral Searcher

The Fiend Folio might well be known as the book of monsters that want to lay eggs in you! The Monster Manual came out in 1977, and the Fiend Folio in 1981, but smack dab between them in 1979, Alien made its first appearance on the big screen. And late 1979 was when the Fiend Folio was first slated to come out. Of course, this might be coincidence, and the monsters were selected from the Fiend Factory column in White Dwarf, but it is hard to imagine that Alien had no effect, if not on the creatures themselves, then on their selection.

In effect, it is as though Gary Gygax said, “This dungeon delving is serious stuff! It could kill you!” Then Don Turnbull came along and said, “If you’re lucky!” There is a certain lesson in cruelty here, taking different forms with different monsters, but always reminding the participants that monsters can target more than your hit points. More even than your hard-won experience points and levels. Dying a clean death is not every unsuccessful adventurer’s fate.

If you wonder whether or not I learned this lesson, take a look at Bone Hoard of the Dancing Horror, Mermaids from Yuggoth, or The Imperishable Sorceress. If you ever wonder where I learned the lesson, crack open the original Fiend Folio. It wasn’t the last place I learned from, and I had started devising my own monsters going back to Holmes Basic, but it was the first lesson in just how far the judge could go.

 

Assassin Bug

Assassin Bug: Init +3; Atk bite +1 melee (1d4 plus paralysis) or implant eggs; AC 14; HD 1d8+1; MV 20’ or fly 50’; Act 1d20; SP: Paralysis (Fort DC 12, 1d3 turns), implant eggs; SV Fort +2; Ref +5; Will +0; AL N.

Resembling nothing so much as humanoid bluebottle flies standing no more than two feet high, these creatures are predominantly scavengers which avoid larger beings, including humans. While either gender can deliver a powerful bite in extremis, they are only truly dangerous during their mating season, when the females become gravid with eggs (roughly one day in every two months). During this time, males develop a paralyzing saliva (Fort DC 12 or paralysis for 1d3 turns), and mated pairs fly in search of a host for their offspring.

Males always attack first, attacking until destroyed. As soon as a victim is paralyzed, the female (detecting the scent of the activated male saliva) attacks the affected area, implanting 1d6+6 eggs if successful. The female dies as soon as her eggs are implanted.

Eggs hatch 1d12+12 hours after they are implanted, and the newly-hatched larvae cause 1 hp damage per hour per larvae as the consume the host’s internal organs. After two weeks, the larvae leave the host, burrowing out through the area where the eggs were originally implanted. If the host still survives, this causes 1d4+4 damage. The larvae are then fully formed assassin bugs, although they are small and have only 2 hp each.

Nothing short of Divine Aid or similar magic can remove the eggs once implanted, without killing the victim, but 1d6 hatched larvae can be killed per HD with a successful clerical Lay on Hands for this purpose. Unfortunately, assassin bug eggs are regarded as great delicacies by trolls, troglodytes, and bugbears, all of which can smell them up to 200 feet away, and none of which are at all troubled by killing the victim to get at them.

 

Astral Searcher

Astral Searcher: Init +0; Atk Special (2d5); AC 10; HD 2d6; MV fly 30’; Act 1d20; SP Ignore armor, illusory damage, possession, magic resistance (50%); SV Fort +0; Ref +0; Will +0; AL Varies.

Mindless shells of nebulous humanoid shape, astral searchers are created by concentrated human thoughts, trauma, violent death, and travelers involved in violence or lost upon the astral plane. Some people, whether through magic, psionics, or training, can learn to leave their bodies so that their souls can travel on the astral plane; it something happens to their bodies, they may become astral searchers. Driven by their past connection with material beings, astral searchers seek material bodies with complete singleness of purpose, seeking weak points in the fabric of the planes, and clustering at such points, waiting for stresses to create enough of a tear that they can pass from the astral into the material plane.

Astral searchers attacks ignore all protection from armor. They inflict illusory damage, which faded in 3d4 rounds once the astral searchers' attack ends. A victim reduced to 0 hp has its mind and personality destroyed. The astral searcher possesses the body, acquiring the victim's physical abilities and hit points (with all damage from the astral searcher's attack disappearing immediately). The alignment, personality, and purpose of the now-embodied searcher depends upon how the astral searcher was first created, as determined by the judge. If desired, the judge may even allow the original player to play the new character, but most astral searchers become mindless embodiments of rage, grief, or violence, even when they have managed to possess another.

Astral searchers can be ejected from a body with a successful exorcise spell but the original victim must succeed in a Luck check, or its psyche was completely destroyed and cannot be restored. The empty corpus will then be an open invitation to possession by a demon or other similar creature (at the discretion of the judge) .

The strange nature of astral searchers means that spells and similar magics are 50% likely to ignore them entirely, as though the creatures did not exist.

Let’s Convert the Fiend Folio: Algoid, Al-Mi’raj, and Apparition

I am covering three monsters with this post, because I have already done a conversion of one of them. That also means that, with the next post, the letter A will be finished. I really hope that my love for the Fiend Folio is shining through!

Of the three creatures we are doing on this post, the Al-Mi’raj is the closest to my heart. I have used both of the others, but teleporting blink bunnies just have a certain appeal to me. The Apparition is a variant of the ghost, which was required in a system where monsters were not mysterious. I will be building my version of the Apparition largely from the Ghost entry in the Core Rulebook. I think it is useful to see how specific monsters can be built from the materials supplied therein.

The Algoid offers a challenge in that it can control trees. Neither animated trees nor treants are included in the core, but I did create animated tree statistics for Creeping Beauties of the Wood, and they are useful in this context.

As always, the intent is to convert these monsters into creatures which would fit within a Dungeon Crawl Classics adventure!

 

Algoid

Algoid: Init +2; Atk fists +3 melee (1d10) or mind blast; AC 15; HD 5d8; MV 20’; Act 2d20; SP: Mind blast, control trees, immunity to mind-affecting, immunity to piercing weapons, half damage from non-magical edged weapons, half damage from fire-based attacks; SV Fort +3; Ref +4; Will +4; AL C.

Although an algoid appears to be a green humanoid with coarse, rough features, it is actually a colony of algae which has taken on this form to develop mobility and rudimentary intelligence. Its form is only of a temporary nature, and if reduced to 0 hp, an algoid collapses again into undifferentiated algae.

Non-magical edged weapons can pass through an algoid doing little harm (half damage), but blunt weapons do full damage. Piercing weapons – including arrows and spears – do no damage at all, even if magical.

Once per day, an algoid can produce a mind blast, which affects all animals within a 30’ radius. These must succeed in a DC 15 Will save, or be stunned and able to take no action for 1d3 rounds. Algoids can also control trees native to their habitat, spending 1 round to establish control over 1d6 trees for up to 1 turn. These trees become animate while under an algoid’s control. No algoid can control more than 6 trees at a time. Controlling trees requires that the algoid uses one Action Die for this purpose each round; if it does not, the trees become inanimate after 1d3 rounds.

Sample Animated Tree: Willow

Animated willow tree: Init +2; Atk lashing branch +2 melee (1d3); AC 14; HD 4d12; MV 20’; Act 2d20; SP 10’ reach, immune to piercing, half damage from bludgeoning, +4 vs. fire, twice normal damage from axes; SV Fort +15; Ref –4; Will +2; AL N.

An animated willow tree attacks with long, thin branches that strike like lashes. They can strike a target up to 10 feet away. Their trunk splits into rudimentary legs to allow locomotion. 

An animated willow takes no damage from piercing weapons, and half damage from bludgeoning ones.  Their plentiful watery sap grants them a +4 bonus to saves against fire and heat. They take double damage from any type of axe. 

 

 

Al-Mi’raj

Al-mi'raj:  Init +4; Atk impale +0 melee (1d3); AC 12; HD 1d4; MV 20’ plus teleport; Act 1d16; SP teleport; SV Fort -2, Ref +8, Will +0; AL N.

This is a conversion previously posted on my blog. Check out the original post, and you will see my drawing of the critter!

An al-mi’raj appears to be a large rabbit, often with yellowish, blue, or black fur.  It has a one-foot-long pearly horn rising from its forehead.  Al-mi’raj have a natural ability to sense open spaces within 15 feet of them, as well as a limited ability to teleport.  They live in warrens, often built around abandoned burrows, sealed tombs, and other spaces without any obvious entrance or egress.  They are not aggressive, unless their warrens are breached.  Even then, al-mi’raj tend to flee rather than fight.  To many treasure-seekers, al-mi’raj are less of a challenge than an indication that a hidden tomb might exist nearby. Any treasure thus found is incidental, being part of the al-mi’raj lair rather than something intentionally collected by the creatures.

Al-mi’raj can teleport up to a distance of 20 feet as part of their movement each round.  They can also do so when, gaining a Reflex (DC equal to attack roll total) to avoid the attack.  An al-mi’raj who makes this save may automatically places itself into a position where it gains a +2 bonus to its own attack roll.

Whenever possible, al-mi'raj flee via teleportation, teleporting into any hidden open space within 15 feet.  Since al-mi’raj burrows tend to be rabbit-like warrens, there is almost always such a space available.  In their lair, however, al-mi’raj stand to fight.  In this case, they gain a +2 bonus on their attack rolls anytime they successfully teleport away from an attack.

Attempts to domesticate these creatures have, thus far, been utter failures.  Indeed, with their ability to teleport, even managing to keep them captive is nearly impossible.

 

Apparition

Apparition: Init +2; Atk Special (see below); AC 10; HD 3d12; MV fly 60’; Act 1d20; SP Un-dead traits, immune to non-magical or silver weapons, sense living up to 100’ away, surprise, spectral strangling attack, create spawn; SV Fort +2; Ref +4; Will +6; AL C.

An apparition is a form of powerful, non-corporeal ghost (see the core rulebook, pp. 413-414). Because it can be harmed by silver, it is reluctant to approach mirrors, or anything else made of that metal. Otherwise, the apparition has a 5 in 6 chance of surprising victims due to its uncanny appearance from a wall, floor, or ceiling. It appears  as an Insubstantial  skeletal being In a thin white robe.

An apparition is unable to physically attack. Its chosen victim feels bony, claw-like fingers at their throat (even through armor), and must succeed in a DC 15 Will save or be overcome with horror, unable to act for the next 1d3 rounds. Worse, for each round a creature is overcome, it must succeed in a DC 12 Fort save or take 1d8 temporary damage. A creature who succeeds in its Will save is thereafter immune to that apparition’s attacks. A creature who survives discovers that all the damage caused by the spectral choking was illusory (and is healed). A creature who is slain by this choking suffers a massive, and fatal, heart attack.

A slain victim which is not blessed by a cleric rises as a new apparition 2d4 hours later, 50% of the time. Such an apparition immediately seeks out its former companions if they are still within 100’.