A quick note to my loyal readers: This summer and fall have been a whirlwind, thanks to work on other projects and preparation for a new little monster that will be coming to inhabit our dungeon very soon. As a result, I’ve fallen way behind on responding to e-mail messages and acknowledging reader requests. Today I’ve gone through all my outstanding e-mail and put together a queue of 18 different monster types to look at in the coming weeks. If there’s a monster you requested that I look at and I haven’t gotten to it yet, don’t despair: I’ll get to it soon! (I’ll also try to improve my posting rate, which has gone from mediocre to dismal. Such are the demands of life.)
Fomorians are yet another manifestation of the “evil ≡ ugly” essentialist trope, which I wish would go away. Once a noble and beautiful strain of giantkind, they were cursed with a warped and hideous appearance for their hubristic crimes against the Feywild. Not only was their pulchritude taken from them, they lost their intellectual brilliance as well: the average fomorian has an Intelligence of only 9.
Extremely strong and tough brutes, with a hefty reservoir of hit points, fomorians barrel directly into the fray. Their Evil Eye feature works out to a range of 60 feet, but they use it from the midst of melee. Long-range darkvision suggests that they dwell in darkness—either underground, where they’re most commonly found, or in the densest and gloomiest of forests—and don’t attack when there’s a bright light source present.
Their low Intelligence and high Wisdom are an interesting juxtaposition. By my reckoning, Intelligence represents logical assessment, while Wisdom represents judgment as well as perception. Fomorians’ situational awareness is a mixed bag: They’re pretty good at assessing whether or not a fight is winnable, and they refrain from engaging when it’s not, but they lack tactical breadth and target selection savvy. Once they’ve committed to a fight, their behavior is relatively simple, and their decisions arbitrary. Continue reading Fomorian Tactics
Maurezhi, according to Mordenkainen’s Tome of Foes, are demons formed from the corrupted souls of elves to lead packs of ghouls and ghasts. The connection to elves is interesting, because as I note in my article on ghoul and ghast tactics, whether or not their claw attacks have an effect on elves is a key feature distinguishing ghouls from ghasts. (Ghouls’ claw attacks have no paralyzing effect on elves; ghasts’ claw attacks do.)
Upon consuming the corpse of a humanoid it’s slain, a maurezhi has a brief window of opportunity during which it assumes his or her appearance and can convincingly pass as that person, with the help of its proficiency in the Deception skill. Almost immediately, however, this body begins to rot away, and after just a day, something is clearly not right; by a few days later, the maurezhi sheds it, like a skin it’s outgrown. The ideal maurezhi encounter therefore takes place very soon after it’s assumed a new appearance, and any delay is going to have an effect on its strategy.
Maurezhi have high Charisma, but this doesn’t figure into any of their attacks, only their deception skill. Combat-wise, they’re shock attackers, with exceptional Dexterity that functions as their primary ability for both defense and offense. Since ghouls and ghasts are also shock attackers, and since maurezhi will typically be encountered leading packs of them, there should be enough baddies to go around for an entire group of protagonists; the ghouls and ghasts go straight for the ones they want to eat, while the maurezhi zeroes in on any other opponent who might present an obstacle to that and tries to take him or her out in a round or two. Continue reading Demon Tactics: Maurezhi and Dybbuks
Eidolons are intriguing creatures, because despite being undead, they’re not necessarily evil—they may even be good. Spirits honored by the gods for their zealous devotion, eidolons spend their afterlives guarding those gods’ sacred places and protecting them from defilers. Their compulsion—which every undead creature must have—is to protect. Not necessarily a bad thing!
Even more intriguing is that eidolons can hop into inanimate objects and animate them for the purpose of carrying out their eternal mission. Mordenkainen’s Tome of Foes offers, as an example, a stat block for an animated statue.
But first, let’s look at what an eidolon can do on its own. The flavor text says, “An eidolon has few methods for protecting itself beyond its ability to awaken its sacred vessels.” How true is this? Continue reading Eidolon Tactics
What if you’re a wizard with the ego, ambition and power to pursue immortality through self-enlichment, and you start the grueling process but fail to pace yourself properly? You could end up as a boneclaw, the powerful undead servant of a random individual who certainly didn’t ask for one and may or may not have any use for it.
Figuring that only the most brilliant mages even have a chance at becoming liches, the boneclaw’s Intelligence of 13 is surprisingly low, and I ascribe this to the trauma of failure. Something about the process of becoming a boneclaw damages the erstwhile wizard’s intellect, surely a sore spot. It’s not stupid by any stretch, just unable to soar to its previous heights of brilliance. Its Intelligence is now outshone by its extraordinary Strength and very high Dexterity, Constitution and Wisdom.
Those latter three high stats are accompanied by proficiencies in their respective saving throws, meaning that the boneclaw possesses exceptional resistance to the vast majority of attacks that require saving throws to resist. It may not be able to perform the kind of magic it once did, but your magic isn’t going to impress it one bit. Continue reading Boneclaw Tactics