You won't believe these 10 WEIRD FACTS about carrion crawlers!

Adventurers that aren't already paralyzed HATE him!

1. Carrion crawlers were bred by the vivitheurges of a long-dead empire to consume the effluvia of their magical research and refine it into more useful chemicals and narcotics. The strains of grub producing heroin, aqua regia, and other such miracles have all died out, but one breed has survived, adapting to feed on carrion instead of rarified plasma and excreting its "milk", a potent anesthetic, from its tentacle-udders to incapacitate prey.
2. If left on their own carrion crawlers will metamorphose into regular ol' giant psychic boring beetles before they reach two feet in length. Larger specimens are uniformly the result of goblin meddling, with intricate runes of chaos branded on their leathery backs by skilled warp-witches to prevent the final molt. Crawler breeding is a proud tradition among goblin-kind, with frequent "cattle raids" between clans to capture prized specimens, and the most talented breeders command great respect amongst their peers. All agree on the importance of clearing the grubs' droppings, and that while the crawlers will eat most anything, a diet rich in domesticated cat helps promote a long and healthy life.
3. Drow priestesses ride carrion crawlers in their great undulating feast-palanquins, the sedia gustatoria. The priestesses' movements are limited to small gestures and condescending sneers, so weighed down are they by jewelry and towering headpieces, while the crawlers, pampered and bloated, move less than a mile per day. Idleness is the virtue of their station, and the priestesses take great joy in testing others' patience.
4. The paralytic effects of a carrion crawler's touch are not from any natural venom or toxin. Rather, carrion crawlers are psychics, though their minds are too primitive to project any thoughts or emotions beyond a vague sense of revulsion. (This is why maggots are so unsettling despite not posing any physical threat. It's a defense mechanism.) Direct tentacle-to-skin contact amplifies the emotional response a thousandfold, drowning out the brain's own signals in a wave of vermiphobic horror. The implications of elves being immune to this mental paralysis are left to the reader, as are any links between carrion crawlers and those other betentacled psychics, mind flayers.
5. Derro harvest carrion crawler paralytic fluid to use in their gaslighting experiments. Subjects the derro wish to drive mad are restrained, blindfolded, and starved while the fluid, thinned enough to cause only local anesthesia, is painted on their extremities. These extremities are then cut off and fed to the ravenous prisoners in thin slices. When their blindfolds are removed, revealing a bloody plate and a sewn-up stump, subjects are left in a state of mind much more susceptible to further treatments.
6. The Sisterhood of the White Worm is a monastic order inspired by the carrion crawler, which its nuns believe is the most compassionate creature in existence. The Sisterhood believes in a god of infinite mercy and forgiveness who wants to free all living things from the suffering of mortal life - the carrion crawler, likewise, grants the liberation of death without pain. Only after completing enough good works (bloodless assassinations of doctors and midwives) will the nuns go willingly into the White Worm's embrace.
7. Carrion crawlers eat carrion, naturally, but only to breed. The faint glow that surrounds crawlers living in the deepest tunnels of the underworld comes from the grubs feeding off darkness itself - darkness, of course, being not just the absence of light but a living force with will and (apparently) caloric value. This makes carrion crawlers a vital link in the underworld food chain (crawler steaks taste acrid and rubbery, but it beats starving), as well as a natural defense against invading shadows.
8. The touch of a carrion crawler doesn't just freeze you in place - it freezes you in time. The effects usually don't last long enough to make a difference (plus, y'know, you can still get eaten), but while paralyzed the body is suspended between moments - you don't need to breathe, you'll never starve, and any poisons in the body won't take effect until the paralysis ends. In some underworld cultures, hunters and soldiers feed carrion crawler venom to their families in lean times so they'll "rest" for days and avoid the pangs of hunger. The legend of the Sleeping Prince tells of a young boy stricken with fever, whose father had the court wizards design a bed that would drip carrion crawler venom onto his body and keep him frozen in slumber until a cure was found. That was millenia ago - the king and, indeed, the entire kingdom has gone to dust, but the machine still functions, and the boy still sleeps.
9. Due to their great appetites it is sometimes said that carrion crawlers have bottomless stomachs. This is true. Carrion crawlers were created by a mad wizard (of course) who believed in a prophecy: that his soul was doomed to an eternity of torment unless he could recover an artifact buried with a certain corpse. Unfortunately he had no idea which corpse or even what the artifact was. He made the carrion crawlers to feast on the dead, and he put a small portal in each one's stomach to sent indigestible materials to his palace of trash and filth. The carrion crawlers have spread to a thousand worlds and eaten countless bodies, but the wizard is still searching.
10. Maggots grow spontaneously from the flesh of men and beasts, gifts from the nameless god of filth and vermin that waits at the end of time. Carrion crawlers grow from the flesh of slain immortals - dragons, titans, and the most noble of fey. Some day the gods will die too, and from their flesh will grow the nameless god to remake the universe in its own image.

omnomnom

On Hybrid Freaks and Questing Beasts

For today's entry in my slow but relentless zombie march through the Monster Manual we have the catoblepas and chimera - plus a special guest appearance by THE MIMEOPLASM!

THE MIMEOPLASM! (pronounced THE MIME-O-PLASM!, as loudly and obnoxiously as you dare) is a card in Magic: The Gathering that copies the stats and abilities of other creatures. It's an ooze with a T-rex head for an arm, which is delightful.

Reading up on the chimera (what, do you not?) the myths are pretty consistent that it's a mix of goat and lion plus something reptilian - a snake, or sometimes a dragon. But the number of heads can range from one to three, it may or may not have wings, and it may or may not breathe fire. In genetics it's an organism with someone else's cells inside, in archaeology it's a fossil made from multiple species, and architecture it's an ugly statue that doesn't keep the rain away (that would be a gargoyle - thanks, Wikipedia!). So in broad usage a chimera is any sort of weird hybrid, and in the original mythology it's still kind of dodgy and inconsistent.

It could be an ooze with a T-rex arm, is what I'm saying.

I like the idea that some creatures in D&D are set species and with enough research you can learn goddamn near everything, but for others like the chimera all you can know for certain is that they're all different and weird. If we're going with the conceit that crazy wizards made these monsters because they're crazy, it doesn't make much sense that they'd all use the same stock.

Warhammer plays with this a bit:

Some kind of tiger-dragon-eagle thing maybe? Whatever it is it's pretty sweet.

So does Theros, the latest Magic card setting based on Greek myth. I like that none of the heads are quite one thing or another, but that it still looks like one creature and not a collage of parts.

But we can do better! Thanks to the limitless power of poverty imagination we can't afford don't need a specific custom miniature or image to describe our monsters. They can change from encounter to encounter or round to round:

DM: You see a gaunt, mange-covered amalgam of hyena, vulture, centipede, and - deadliest of all - MAN!
Player (rolls): I stab it in the back.
DM (resolves damage): It's still alive. It grows a serpent head from the wound and bites you. Save vs. poison.

Good times.

Back in 2010, when 4th Edition was new(ish) and Wizards still gave a damn(...ish), this article established a thematic link between the catoblepas (magical warthog with a death gaze described by Pliny the Elder, but probably just a wildebeest) and the Questing Beast (monstrous product of incest heralding doom described in Arthurian legend, but probably just a giraffe). The idea being that the catoblepas would show up, curse you or a nearby sympathetic NPC, and then wander off, and you'd have to venture out into the thrice-forsaken swamp to kill it before the foretold doom came to pass. And yeah that's pretty sweet. Having some reason to go out and slay the killer hellbeast that should by all rights be left alone is something I can get behind, even if that reason did end up being the Raven Queen yet again. (Seriously 4th Edition, are you even pretending there are other gods?)

Personally though I find most groups are willing to latch on to any plot hook you dangle in front of them with even a shred of bait, and just establishing that a creature is out there is often enough to pique someone's interest. One trick that's worked well in the past to both motivate players and make the hunt itself more interesting is to add a second competing party of adventurers to the mix - you see it all the time in dungeons, but not often enough on monster hunts. Rival parties are great.

Even more than wandering monsters, rival parties corral the natural tendency to play slow and cautious, scrutinizing every possible option and retreating whenever someone gets hurt or runs low on spells. With a group of rivals competing for the same loot or the same kill, every delay becomes a chance the other guys will get there first. At the same time the "empty" wilderness hexes or dungeon rooms become more interesting, because there's always a chance you'll be ambushed (or an opportunity to ambush someone else). Plus the inevitable monster fight has the added strategic wrinkle of needing to hold something in reserve and worry about the trip back. No one wants to relive the opening to Raiders of the Lost Arc.

"The fact you can't take the hit just makes me want to punch you even more"

To that end here are 1d12 SHADY MONSTER HUNTERS and their often sketchy motivations:

1. Whole mob of peg-parted Ahab types all after the same serial limb-gobbler. Most of time spent looking for leads, hiding leads, and spying, each hunter more grim and paranoid than the last.
2. Dandy out for a spot of adventure, accompanied by vast entourage of guides, porters, weapon caddies, battle butlers, and aides-de-camp. Armed to the teeth with the latest gadgets and a complete disregard for the well-being of underlings.
3. Devil-blooded torture artists looking for a creature tough enough to act as the canvas for their latest masterpiece. Always eager for an audience but participation is mandatory.
4. Unhinged golemancer gave up everything to finance building a great colossus that could avenge a devoured spouse. Controls the machine from inside its mechanical guts but will hop out to make repairs without regard for own life. ("Fighting Girlfriend" inscription optional but encouraged.)
5. Amoral circus folk seek photogenic beast for capture and training. Carnies include a lobotomized ogre strongman, a naga blade-dancer, and a deadly pyrokinetic midget.
6. The monster is the offspring or favored pet of some petty local deity. Clergy of another even more petty deity want to kill it to show the world their miracles are the best. Priests hunt the creature with great zeal but are slowed by all manner of onerous taboos and observances.
7. Badass mercenary company of big damn heroes with no concept of overkill or collateral damage. They don't play by the rules but they get results! (Obviously the company that hired them planted a mole to bring the creature back alive and kill the others to avoid leaving witnesses.)
8. Sweet, dimple-faced prodigy of the dark arts accompanied by a small army of threadbare taxidermied horrors. Wants to dig the bones of a beloved pet from the creature's stomach for reanimation.
9. Hunting party of dark elf royalty astride jeweled cassowaries. Suitably impressive trophies will earn their house favors and influence for some fantastically convoluted but deadly intrigue. Frequent stops along the trail for rampant debauchery including incestuous coke orgies and ritual cannibalism.
10. Cryptic extradimentional zookeeper assisted by slowly dissolving eyebrowless clones and what might conceivably be called a hunting dog. Well equipped with stasis bombs, mono-wire bolas, and shrink ray canisters for easy transport.
11. Noble scion accused of murder demands Trial by Kaiju rather than face a bribed jury. Returning with the head of the monster the only way to prove the support of the gods and avoid execution.
12. Local adventurer's guild sent initiates off to loot the monster's hoard as part of a demented hazing ritual. Lost, badly wounded, numbers depleted, the survivors will still murder you in your sleep for so much as a copper piece.

Skeletons! All my life I've been hated by skeletons!

So I've stopped updating, obviously - for the usual reasons of time and other obligations but also for the unexpected reason of Blogspot hating me. Every comment posted in reply to someone else got mysteriously eaten by the void, and it didn't make sense joining a community of CLOSETCASES when I couldn't actually, y'know, say anything. I get enough "you just need to learn to communicate more" in real life without it following me onto the internet.

Plus most of the blogs I frequent have either dried up or moved onto G+ hangouts. I've been Facebook-free for almost a year now after having my identity stolen and going into full luddite hermit mode, and a more different social media account isn't really something I'm interested in. So what's left?

"Blogs appear and grow in strength from strange gaps in people’s lives.  The golden age of Noisms was when he was trapped in a Japanese office all day with nothing useful to do. Jeff got a job, James M disappeared. When the life changes the blog changes and as people move into new phases the blog either disappears or becomes much less regular or less intensely imagined. And blogs need to be regular and vibrant in order to really fulfill their potential as blogs. A blog that liveth not, is not a blog."

 Forsooth.

Beautiful thing about the internet though... every once in a while something long dead and buried will spontaneously reanimate for no damn reason. (That is not dead which can etc etc.) I would never have thought this would become a thing almost four years after I made it, but then boom, 59k hits and its own giant-ass forum thread.

It's true: writing about the nerdy minutia of a dying hobby through obsolete channels for an audience of no one is a colossal waste of time. But fuck it, I'm playing D&D anyway and I like writing about it, so let's give this another go. Maybe whatever replaces Twitter will stumble across this site in another four years and be confused.

LESS TALK MORE PLANTS THAT EAT YOU! ROLL A D30!

1. Big ole’ venus flytrap-style chompy mouth
2. Covered in thorns that break off in skin and continue injecting poison
3. Spooky tree with a gnarled bark face and lashing claw-like branches
4. Angry molesting tree with dozens of flailing tentacular limbs
5. Sticky fibers on leaves trap prey while pheromones attract other predators
6. Vines or roots pull toward a central pitcher plant ‘stomach’ in the ground
7. Bludgeons with heavy mace-headed branches
8. Stalks spring out and retract at great speed, impaling like spears
9. Lashes with sawblade-edged leaves causing massive blood loss and amputating limbs
10. Leaves conceal pit trap with sharp pungi spike roots
11. Whip-like tendril lashes out to inject mutagenic venom
12. Rolls over people like a giant tumbleweed
13. Flings heavy spike-shelled coconuts with uncanny precision
14. Seed pods open to fling thousands of poisoned flechette-style needles
15. Hurls overripe fruit which explodes on impact releasing noxious, intoxicating, or volatile fluids
16. Spits gobs of corrosive combustible pitch
17. Clouds of tiny airborne seeds released; seedlings grow rapidly in lungs if inhaled
18. Pollen clouds laced with deadly neurotoxin
19. Flowers change color in hypnotic patterns, implanting (heh) suggestions of suicidal behavior
20. Mirror-leaves reflect and amplify sunlight into burning solar deathray
21. Releases pheromones to induce homicidal rage; plant absorbs blood spilled in the resulting carnage
22. Roots manipulate soil to cause sinkholes, quicksand, or earthquakes
23. Sticky burs latch on to passers-by, then a few minutes later, explode
24. Scent of flowers causes deep slumber filled with terrible, prophetic nightmares
25. Plants bulbs in fresh corpses, reanimating them as floral zombies
26. Fruit increases the eater’s strength and inspires fanatical devotion; a sizable cult offers the plant regular sacrifice
27. Grows swarms of vicious thorn-covered piranha goblins from unfertilized seeds
28. Pods grow doppelgangers of any whose blood the plant has tasted
29. Trunk trembles to agitate enormous hornet’s nest inside
30. Whole plant grows from the back of a titanic forest creature with roots burrowing into its brain