H Monsters at the Opera

A B C D Demon Dragon E F G1 G2 G3 H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Credit: my sister, again

No, I haven't forgotten this series. It's a backburner project, remember? Opera-goers have been eating pretty good this year. But alas, we still have half a manual of monsters to get through.

Hag

Another monster I've used many, many times. Like goblins, they seem to just effortlessly generate fun at the table. Do a hag voice, instant joy. Yet they also aren't generic. Each one is unique and weird and mysterious and threatening. I've used them as villains a few times, but also as sources of information or shelter or magical aid that the PCs can bargain with. I enjoy the strange tension of the PCs forming an evil ally despite being ostensibly good guys. On the flipside, if a player ever does raise doubts about a hag villain being truly villainous, there's one trait you can pretty easily invoke to end any debate: they eat children.

While they obviously have no shortage of surface-level appeal, I also find the creative premise of the hag to be itself really intriguing. Belief in witchcraft is extremely common throughout history, although what "witchcraft" even means is quite broad. Obviously, nearly all human cultures in the past believed in some kind of magic. But what makes magic into witchcraft is usually either 1) that it's malevolent and harmful, 2) that it's feminine, or 3) that it's both. 

Is there room for such a thing in D&D? Female characters cast the same magic as everyone else, and basically all magic has the capacity to be used for evil, so special categories of magic based on one or both of these traits doesn't make much sense. Yet the idea of witchcraft, as a complex tradition with its own distinct history and politics and aesthetic trappings, formed a very real part of the medieval worldview. So much of the culture from which D&D draws its core milieu revolves around witches and witchcraft that it would be basically impossible to avoid touching those tropes somehow. 

D&D offers a weird solution: what if "witch" were a species?

Meg Mucklebones from 1985's Legend

Voila! You get to play with all the tropes of witchcraft without assigning them to any character who's, y'know, a person. It is the classic D&D solution of applying a species-based framework to anything and everything, especially taking advantage of that most-convenient of imaginary categories for anything thorny: "monster."

But it's not as though the idea is without precedent. On the contrary, many fantasy works feature a "spellcasting species." Gandalf wasn't a human who studied magic. He was a wizard, a divine being, a different sort of thing altogether. Merlin wasn't a human, either. He was a cambion, a magical creature. Surely when you saw Spirited Away, you didn't think Yubaba was a human, right?

Of course, the "all-female species" is itself a strange fantasy trope that doesn't always work for everyone. If you can't find a satisfactory way to answer the questions it raises, I long ago had a realization of my own that deals with this: hags are just female trolls.

This works surprisingly well. Two iconic monsters primarily defined by their ugliness. One is basically always depicted male and the other is basically always depicted female. They often even look alike. And they pair well together in combat, in adventure design, and in roleplaying. Behind every hungry and rending Grendel, there's a sorcerous mother with cunning plans.

Credit: Mike Mignola, from The Troll Witch

So how about those D&D subtypes?

Green hag. The classic one is also my most-frequently used. While D&D also sometimes has a type called an "annis hag," this is the one where I stick all the Celtic tropes. Strongly associated with goblins, obviously.

Night hag. Sure, sure, "witchcraft" is just a way of framing Pagan religion and magic and whatnot. Fill it with Celtic tropes or whatever. But also, uh, Christian Hell is also a great flavor. The fiendish hag who deals with the Devil, who inflicts nightmares, who trades souls in the form of maggots, is a very good hag to have. One more point in favor of my argument that all the best fiends in D&D are the ones which are neither demons nor devils nor yugoloths.

Sea hag. Probably the weakest? I don't think I've ever used one of these, somehow. I mean, I like the idea of horrible ocean women like Jenny Greenteeth or Ursula or the Bog Roosh. But I haven't run a lot of water-centric adventures in my life. In 5E they get a "death glare" ability:

The hag targets one frightened creature she can see within 30 feet of her. If the target can see the hag, it must succeed on a DC 11 Wisdom saving throw against this magic or drop to 0 hit points.

That's pretty gnarly. I like it a lot.

Credit: Blanca Martinez de Rituerto, from Dungeons & Drawings

Harpy

Speaking of female monsters, harpies are a classic that I often forget about. I have many times throughout this series been critical of D&D's use of "uhhh it's a type of elemental" for every monster they aren't creative enough to have a hook for. But in this case it's actually true to the source material. Harpies as a personification of storms is totally Greek, and honestly pretty metal and cool and exactly the kind of "elemental" I can get behind. But also, y'know... they could be a type of demon instead.

Hippocampus

It's a pretty solid image. It sure is practically useful. "Underwater horses, for underwater humanoids." Makes sense! But the name bothers me. It sounds stupid and weird, and on top of that it's also now a part of the brain. I would rename it a "capricorn," I think.

Hippogriff

Thanks to Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, there's an entire generation who grew up completely in love with this monster. They occupy a space in my childhood that I can only compare to how little girls feel about unicorns. Deeper than in the heart, somehow. A total, obsessive enchantment that fueled countless hours daydreaming and drawing cool pictures on the margins of your homework.

Seeing as how I kind of fell out of love with Harry Potter before I even reached adulthood, I can't say there's any nostalgia remaining for the hippogriff. Whatever love I once had for it that hasn't yet been drained has instead transferred over to the griffon, a far more proper creature of medieval imagination.

I think Ben still has some of the love, though. Eagle + horse is a powerful combination, and extrapolating the template of "bird + ungulate" from it is a volatile formula for worldbuilding nerdery. One time I drew Ben a picture of a rooster + deer "hippogriff" and he cherished it for ages.

Hobgoblin

If you aren't into 5E, you may be unaware that the hobgoblin got a re-tool not very long ago: "Hobgoblin of the Feywild." It's just an Unearthed Arcana and hasn't yet found its way into a published book (I think), but it was very well-received. To many people, this is what hobgoblins obviously should have always been. Something actually rooted in mischievous fairy folklore. Think Puck from A Midsummer Night's Dream. Even more fittingly, most of their features are based entirely around being helpful to others. This is a home run.

...But I also want to say that I fucking love the traditional D&D hobgoblin. It may be an awkward fit, the odd one out, not very goblin-y feeling, etc. But as a monster in its own right, it makes a lot more sense when you understand what it really is: the true orc.

See, D&D's interpretation of the orc is very different from the Middle Earth original. Somehow, they got translated into D&D as a bunch of savage unga bungas wearing animal skins and worshipping fire and whatnot. This has retroactively warped people's understanding of Tolkien's orc in a negative and unfair way, which was actually almost the polar opposite. The defining characteristic of the black orcs of Mordor is industry. They aren't primitive! They're at the cutting edge of technology! In a bad way! That's the point! They are imperialists, invaders and conquerors, slavers and genociders. They are the colonizers, not the colonized. How did things get so backward?

Well, that idea can still be found in D&D. It's just been given the name "hobgoblin" for some reason, and I think it's one of the most worthy villains in the whole manual. A society of soldiers and slavers, of jailers and cops, of ruthless efficiency and rigid hierarchy, of industrial conquest and wasteful destruction. Their artwork has usually drawn from samurai imagery, but I've always flavored them like Eastern European warlords. More Vlad the Impaler, y'know?

Homunculus

I mentioned in the previous post that wizards should be known for constructing homunculi rather than golems. But I'll admit that the homunculus is a definitely a bit weird. Normally we picture the wizard constructing their servant either by assembling parts or by imbuing life into something already crafted. But the homunculus is the construct that you grow. It's all organic and bloody and nasty. Which I think is more fitting, anyway. Welding torches don't seem as wizard-y to me as mixing animal fluids in glass jars.

The little imp version depicted in D&D is probably inspired by The Golden Voyage of Sinbad, a movie that Ben and I were both very fond of growing up. It may detract from the idea of "artificial human grown in a tube," but it makes for a really cool-looking wizardly familiar.

Hook Horror

First let's address the visuals. Because the art has always failed to sell this thing. 

Tell me with a straight face that doesn't look dorky as hell.

Ben says to throw out the bird stuff and make them a full bug monster.

Credit: Cory Trego-Erdner

Pretty good, pretty good. On the other hand, maybe go full bird so it resembles something more like therizinosaurus.

Alright I'll admit that's some ugly paleoart. Maybe attack it from an entirely new angle.

Credit: Tony Ackland

Nice and scary. But have we gone too far astray?

Then Ben and I saw the way they look in Baldur's Gate 3.

Finally.

Okay, so now they've nailed the look. But is this thing worth anything from a gameplay standpoint?

Well, the stat block is pretty boring. They're super good at hearing and use echolocation, and they get two hook attacks per round that do 2d4+4 piercing damage. And... that's it. Surely this would lend itself to more interesting gameplay in a fight, right? Like, just by looking at the picture, you can intuit the sort of things this guy should be doing in combat. Hanging from above, swinging from the ceiling, flinging enemies around the room, hooking people and dragging them in closer. Also, y'know, a shriek attack or something from their echolocation would add a lot.

This is just a case where your common sense knows better than the stat block. Where crunch falls short of simple imagination. Now all I need is suggestions for a copyright-safe alternative name.

Hydra

Hey uh why haven't I actually run a hydra before? They're fucking brilliant. One of the original puzzle monsters, a great variant on a dragon, lots of potential for further iteration, easily describable yet self-evidently awesome and terrifying. I'd hate to dilute the idea by making them into a reoccurring "species," but I'd also hate to only ever use just one. I at least gotta use the three-headed elemental one from King of Dragons, where each head gets a different breath weapon.

On the question of body-forms, I'm preferential to "no limbs" for this one. But my sister's picture at the beginning of this post is, I think, a game changer. It definitely takes us further away from "dragon variant," but also... why don't I ever see two-headed and three-headed dragons anymore? I feel like that was a super common trope I saw in children's fantasy media growing up, but never see as an adult.

Credit: Almost positive it is Mizuho Kageyama, but I can't verify that

-Dwiz