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D&D MONSTERS, PART I
![[Displacer Beast]](/img/dndmonster-displacerbeast.jpg) |
As far as I know, the idea of a six-legged
panther with squid tentacles that looks like it's somewhere other
than it really is originated in the mind of D&D creator
E. Gary Gygax, possibly as the result of blunt trauma. Not that
I'm complaining. The displacer beast is an excellent example of
synergy; a panther with squid parts is considerably more intimidating
than a squid strapped to a panther. My main complaint with the
name. Not only is it alarmingly prosaic, shouldn't it be called
a "displacing beast"? We don't call flying fish "flyer fish." We
don't refer to the Ukrainian burrowing elk as a "Ukrainian burrower elk." On the other
hand we do have leafcutter ants and nipple-kisser voles, but it
just sounds wrong to me.
B+
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![[Beholder]](/img/dndmonster-beholder.jpg) |
The biggest disappointment in the
D&D movie (a phrase equivalent to "the dustiest end table in Pompeii")
was the five seconds of CGI beholder action in which this eleven hit-die
aberration is fooled by the old "throw a pebble" trick. Ooh, I'm angry.
Beholders are much cooler than that. Their array of eyes is
a veritable snack machine of doom, provided said snack machine was
stocked with deadly magic rays. And Funyuns. Gotta have Funyuns.
Add to that skin that made "chitinous plates" a household name, the
ability to fly, and a standard-issue toothy maw and you've got experience
points that you've got to earn the fuck out of.
A+
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![[Rust Monster]](/img/dndmonster-rustmonster.jpg) |
I have to admit, this is pretty funny. Anything
that can render an adventurer's +3 agnostic sword of oozebane into
so much mucus-coagulating dust is good for a laugh or two. The problem
is that the thing is pretty distinctive what with the propeller tail
and the antennae and all, so the adventurer in question just pulls out
a bow and keeps his distance. Yeah, you could argue that the characters
shouldn't act on player knowledge, but I find it hard to imagine
that the paladin's wise mentor never mentioned that if you come up
against a big propeller-bug thing, it's time to hand your page a
big stick and send him in. Seems like that'd be high on the curriculum.
C
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![[Blink Dog]](/img/dndmonster-blinkdog.jpg) |
These intelligent, teleporting, other-dimensional
fox terriers are the natural enemies of displacer beasts. I love that
Gygax had this whole magic-spewing ecosystem going on. Of course
blink dogs are the natural enemies of displacer beasts! And esophagus
monsters feed on the tender leaves of the rare-but-majestic elf ficus!
It all fits together! Anyhow, blink dogs are chaotic good,
which means that they're one of the few creatures in the Monster Manual
that don't exist solely to guard treasure and draw blood. Instead they
can aid the party, provide information, and look really surprised when
you kill them to search their spleen for emeralds.
C-
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![[Githyanki]](/img/dndmonster-githyanki.jpg) |
I complain about the boring descriptive names
of D&D monsters, but if this is the alternative, it's just as well.
"Githyanki" sounds like one of those midwestern lake names that means
"the place those white people keep asking about" in Pawnee. The
githyanki (plural, "whole bunch of githyanki") live on the Astral Plane,
which is a place adventurers can go when they've completely wrecked
the economy of their home world by flooding it with gold and portable
holes. They often have silver swords that can cut the magical cord
binding astrally projected creatures to their home dimensions, which
I'm led to understand in badass. This is entirely mitigated by the
fact that they look like angry, emaciated Smurfs.
D+
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