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.