Still More Monsters of the Manual

Even without comparing it to subsequent editions, the very first Monster Manual for what was then called Advanced Dungeons & Dragons was simply not a very good book. There are some typos and formatting issues and such, but the biggest reason is the art. 

Much of it is just not very good, drawn by seemingly whomever TSR could get to sketch something up by the deadline for the first-ever hardcover D&D book. There are exceptions (nearly everything by David Trampier, for instance), and a lot of entries have no art whatsoever, which is probably (?) worse.

But how many nerds like me did that 1977 book draw in and then never let go? Many of those images are still conjured up behind my eyes by the mere mention of the names of these esoteric creations, regardless of their quality.

And over the four decades I've played D&D, I have always sought to fill in the corners with some of the more iconic monsters and some other personal favourites, many times just because of the evocative memories of the art that accompanied them.

Most recently I added a displacer beast (mentioned in my 2020 post about iconic monsters in miniature) as well as a pair of perytons - harpy-like stags that not only consume human hearts, but whose shadows reveal the silhouette of a man and not a beast (tragically irreproducible in miniature form).

It's been six years now since that monster post, and I have been filling out the corners of my Monster Manual collection:

There are a number of things preventing me from having a truly comprehensive index of MM miniatures (lack of funds, time, storage space and interest to name but a few), but adding a few classics like these has been pretty rewarding - even for someon who only plays D&D in person perhaps a dozen times a year!

IntroD&Duction

Some time ago, a friend at church told me that her nephew had expressed an interest in Dungeons & Dragons, and this aunt expressed shock that her relative was unaware of my longtime interest in and passion for this game. I told the aunt I would be only too happy to talk to them about it and perhaps even play a game if the opportunity presented itself. Maybe we could even have it a rainy day event at our annual May Long Weekend Family Camp at Rundle's Mission. 

The planning for an event like that never came to pass but I told the aunt I would bring along some of my stuff just in case, and she and her mother could perhaps make our subject aware of this, as I didn't want him to feel any pressure from me, just opportunity. I was a teenaged boy myself once, after all, and am keenly aware of the variety of dynamics at play here.

Saturday was a pretty grey day indeed, so I spent part of the afternoon upstairs in the lodge by a window cleaning and assembling a unit of Greatswords for my Warhammer army. An entirely different nephew approached me and asked if the models I was working on were for D&D. I explained they were more for wargaming, but coincidentally, had brought some D&D items along and would be happy to show him if he was interested. He thanked me and went about his day while I completed my task (deliriously happy to find myself using these models after they languished unpainted for nearly two decades!).

The next day I got up early to help with preparations for the traditional Sunday breakfast, and helped with serving following a lovely outdoor service. When I was relieved from my duties, I enjoyed a hearty serving of pancakes and sausages with my family, and had just pushed away my empty plate and was cotemplating some horizontal self-care when this same curious individual from the day before tapped me on the shoulder.

I turned and saw that he had brought three other teenaged and teen-adjacent individuals with him, and he informed me, "Hey, so we're ready to play D&D whenever you are."

"Uh...yeah!" I stammered. "Sure thing! Give me a minute to grab my stuff and let's do it." I headed to the stairs so I could retrieve my D&D bag from my bunk, and apparently more than one person was moved to remark how I resembled either a parade marshal or the Pied Piper leading a cohort of teens to the upper floor. 

We quickly pulled a couple of tables together by the window, and I set up my DM screen at one end of it, then started laying out the rest of what I'd need. I was not completely prepared for four players by any stretch of the imagination, but not completely unprepared either. I had printed off five character sheets from the Phandelver starter set, having used them before and appreciated how much helpful info they contained beyond raw stats, including sample character names, a common stumbling block. I'd brought along some appropriate miniatures, including a couple of female iterations, which proved fortunate, as there was a female player present. She got first pick because of this, and the three fellows rolled off for first pick of the remaining characters. I handed out figures after they chose.

Tragically, I had only brought two sets of dice, which was not ideal, and had also forgotten that while the sheets did list some suggested spells, they did not contain any real details like ranges or damage and such, which was a real hold up for the wizard and cleric players. 

Instead of the bulky vinyl Chessex mat with a 1" grid I normally favour, I had brought along a set of dungeon tiles. These are great for improvising an environment on the fly, but much less useful for following an established dungeon, which I happened to be doing. Well, noted for next time, let's get at it, I thought.

I began by going over the character sheet, explaining classes, scores and saving throws (another note: next time, start by going over the array of dice - most people haven't worked with a full set of polyhedral randomizers before!).

This didn't take too long at all, and soon I found myself setting the scene for an Adventurer's League episode called The Dead at Highsun. Accepting a cleric's invitation to investigate a crypt in an ironically immaculate graveyard, Tim the Swordsman, Jim the Dwarven Cleric, Erich the Halfling Rogue and Navara the Elven Wizard (who actually played with a school group) very quickly found themselves trapped in a gas-filled chamber, but very quickly figured out the puzzle needed to not only save themselves, but also reveal a secret entrance to the unknown catacombs below!

Descending (mostly) boldly into the depths, they soon bested a trio of skeleton warriors, but the second room contained an unexpected challenge. In a lab-like setting with a cauldron, shelves of books and a table full of beakers, burners and bottles, a note read: "Raaxil. I have figured out how to complete the process. When you are ready, simply pour the contents of this blue pot into the cauldron and stir. The effects should be instantaneous, but DO NOT DRINK THE RESULTING POTION."

Reading this note prompted some wary glances amongst many of the group, but Jim's immediate question was, "Can I sip it?"

I blinked rapidly and shook my head. "Uh... well, yes, you can." I skimmed the room entry and noted that this would require a DC 20 Constitution save (ambitious even for a Dwarf with +3 Con, requiring a natural 17 or higher on a twenty-sided die) or Jim would take 6d6 poison damage. "Do you think you should though?"

From the other end of the table, two players expressed vehement opposition to this plan."Why would you do that?!" Navara's bewildered player asked. But not everyone was so opposed.

"He totally should," asserted Tim (Jim's player's brother). "Do it," he urged. "Do it!"

Erich spoke up. "Why don't we check out the rest of the room and these bookshelves first?" he suggested helpfully. Tim tried to indicate he can't read, but I explained all cleric roles require literacy, which I think he found a little disappointing.

They found a few more clues that eventually dissuaded the cleric from drinking a mysterious but undoubtedly malevolent liquid, but by that point Tim's curiosity was insatiable, so he grabbed the blue pot and headed towards the cauldron to pour it in to "see what would happen." I asked the other players what they were doing, and spent the next ten minutes improvising rules for a game of liquid keep-away, that saw Navara try to grab the pot from Tim and fail, but Erich managing to not only succeed, but also keep it away from Jim, whose inquisitiveness was similarly peaked and was grasping for it. 

When Tim stated his own intention to reclaim the pot, I looked at Erich and silently mouthed "smash it."

"Um, I smash the jar on the ground," he said.

"Aw," replied Tim.

I was so grateful that weapons hadn't been drawn that I completely overlooked an epic opportunity to reference Lonely Island's "Threw It On the Ground", but that was probably for he best anyhow. 

At any rate, the party advanced on to the final room, complete with a mock dragon hoard, teleportation circle and a number of inert bodies with a variety of dragon parts attached to them, which of course animated as zombies shortly after the adventurers began examining things.

The final fight scratched a lot of itches; the cleric got to heal the wizard after she dropped to a single hit point, the rogue got to sneak attack, magic missiles saved the day and Tim's greatsword was relentless. Zombies are a dramatic opponent as they actually get a saving throw against being taken out of action, so reducing them to zero hp is not enough on its own.  

There was a critical hit but also an important Death Save (following a failure), and as Erich's player wound up to roll my largest d20, the apprehension on his face was palpable, despite the fact that 1) this character hadn't exited three hours prior and 2) he might never actually play him again.

Truly, I was delighted to witness it, but even more delighted at the cheers around the table when he rolled a 17 (and not a natural 1), so that Jim could use his last spell slot to heal Erich and get him back into the game.

After the fight, they finished their examinations, destroyed the circle and reported back to Brother Keefe for their reward (25 gp each!) as well as levelling up.

Following the game, my four young charges expressed earnest appreciation for our game (more than once, in fact, over the next day or so), but I was just as grateful. 

Jim's player told me he was going to a D7D camp that summer with a friend, and was grateful for a chance to see what it was all about before being stuck all the way in. And as we were leaving today, Erich's player came over as I was loading the Lander to thank me again, and said he was already looking at starting a campaign with some of his friends. 

Hard to think of an outcome more satisfying than that!

The Greatswords that kind of caused the whole thing

Ancient Lead I: The Half-Orc and Other Specialists

Watching the fifth season of Stranger Things last week, there is obviously lots of room for nostalgia if you were a nerd who came of age in the 1980s, as the main characters are. The one that jumped out to me in the first episode though is where Mike shows the minature of his D&D character, a paladin, to his younger sister Holly. When he did, I blurted out, "Holy shit, I think I still have that figure."

But tonight, when I went though my old metal miniatures, I found a lot of figures from the same period, and even most from the same set, but that paladin model was nowhere to be found.

It's strange for him to be missing when so many other figures from that period are still lurking about. It is a bit ridiculous, actually- if I ever had an encounter where the party needed to fight a dozen or more holy knights, I can probably pull it off without substitution (although the scale - as always - would be highly questionable). 

I think my friend Brent may have used that miniature for his paladin Nigel d'Artagnan, in our one-on-one campaign in high school or junior high. Nigel later on became a bard, unfairly dismissed from his order, but who gamely kept on adventuring around the City State of the Invincible Overlord. I haven't spoken to Brent since my dad's funeral a decade ago, but now I find myself hoping that figurine sits on his book shelf or in a curio cabinet somewhere, and perhaps prompts a fond reminiscence from time to time. I can't be the only one who does this, can I?

But in looking at the other miniatures I had dug up, I was struck by one in particular - the half-orc fighter in the middle of the second group.

Initially, very few people I knew wanted to play half-orc characters, having been conditioned to despise them due to multiple readings/ viewings of The Lord of the Rings. But there he was in the Grenadier Models set 2006 - Specialists, with other heroes, including a cross-wielding cleric and a skullcapped wizard clearly evoking Nicol Williamson from Excalibur.

I remember painting him when I was perhaps 13 years old and thinking, 'who'd want to play this ugly git with the sloppy armour and broken shield,' when I thought, wait - maybe the shield is a choice, reflecting his fighting style...

I imagined this fellow, whose -2 to Charisma (a dump stat to everyone besides paladins back in the day) afforded him a +1 to both his Strength and Constitution scores, cagily lurking behind his shield, watching opponents weary themselves against it, perhaps even resting his own sword against the lip of his shield, patiently waiting for an opportune moment to strike, maybe even ending the combat in a single blow.

This was largely impossible, of course - fighters in AD&D (and in many ways, the system itself) were pretty much incapable of ending most fights quickly. But something about that combination of pose and equipment spoke to me in a manner that evokes strong memories even now, four decades later.

Sadly, with miniatures increasing significantly in both quality and scale over the years, it is hard to fathom an opportunity to use this intriguing fellow in the future. 

But I am in no hurry to give him up, either!

Finding the Forge

23 months ago, I backed a Kickstarter for a D&D accessory called Stonefold Kingdoms. It was a clever idea: 3-dimensional scenery that can fold flat for storage, similar to a pop up book. I had seen this done for wargaming scenery, but there was something very evocative about using the format for a role-playing game. 

I showed them to Audrey, who agreed and greenlit the purchase as a part of my Christmas gift. The frozen mountains, port and jungle sets all looked great, but I thought the underground/dungeon pieces had the most versatility. When they finally arrived last week I hastily assembled them to show them off.

Audrey asked if I would ever bring them to D&D&D at Polyrhythm, but between set-up time and the fact they didn't really fit in the current campaign (Icewind Dale: Rime of the Frostmaiden), I said probably not, and thought it more likely I could write up a one-shot for G&G sometime.

"Well," she mused, "why not next week when the Hawkins come?"

Why not indeed?  What better way to ensure they get used?

We try to get together with our dear friends from Camrose this time each year, and had brought D&D into the picture a couple years back. It has subsequently become a key part of our shenanigans and their two sons (18 and 15 now, how time flies!) were looking forward to playing again. I am always up for some 'clickety-clackety, roll to attackety' action, and figured I could string some kind of narrative together within a week based on these new maps.

It eventually gelled together on Saturday, though it took me most of the day to write it out and add all the monster stats and such. It ended up becoming a tale I called "The Fate of the Forge", about a group of adventurers being asked to rescue an obsessed dwarf kinsman looking for the secret entrance to a long-lost forge. When they pick up his trail, they are (naturally) too late to save him from a band of goblins, but he begs them to finish his quest, find the vault of Morgurgan and re-kindle "the spirit of the forge."

Their journey leads them through the simmering smelting pits, battling both the ghosts of the ancient hearthguard and swarms of bats and ascending some dodgy stairs...

...before descending down to the forge itself, battling both a hideous troll and ferocious chimera!

Honestly, this is in no way a fair fight for third level characters...unless the players are clever enough to make sense of the clues, read the book near the throne and summon a fire elemental with the supplied brazier!

Even then, Galendan the wizard was hard-pressed and ended up needing to use his potion of gaseous form to escape the chimera, while Thoradin the cleric got knocked out covering the elf's escape. Z'baltazar the archer, Blessing Asmodeus the Bard, the knight Lady Marina, Thayna Silverbrew the fighter and Red Robbing Hood the rogue all acquitted themselves well. 

The chimera soon fell to their combined might, and the bard's dissonant whispers spell drove the maddened troll directly into the elemental for a thrilling finale!

It went a little longer than I had intended, and we had to break for a bit when our Chinese food (another great tradition!) arrived, but there was a strong enough narrative to keep everyone engaged, and enough spectacle to keep folks from noticing now contrived much of my scenario was...I mean, a troll and a chimera? Really?

But it had a beginning middle and an end, and nobody felt it was too easy. Honestly, it will be a hard act to follow next year!

Split D&Decision

The first Thursday of each month, a group of us play Dungeons & Dragons at Polyrhythm Brewing. A couple weeks back, my four players found themselves in the center of a ring of ghostly frost giant chieftains on their stone thrones, fighting a giant skeleton summoned up by the ancient king, Reggaryarva. 

The fighter, monk, bard and druid squared off against the undead creature, who, though not fast, packed a significant wallop. In fact, a natural 20 took the gnomish druid out on the very first turn (and on that poor player's first opportunity to play in months, to boot).

No idea why I didn't snap a pic of the actual fight...

The remaining adventurers managed to eventually drop the frost giant skeleton, but were then assailed by an invisible stalker, and before too long, all the party members save one were laying unconscious. Worse still, their mummified companion Sahnar had been tragically destroyed by the stalker! 

At least the sole member on his feet was able to stabilize his living comrades and drag them to safety, as the spectral king dismissed his summoned monster with a wave while wiping mirthful tears from his eyes.

The next morning, the debate revolved around whether the Ice Pack (as they are sometimes known) should have another go at the gauntlet, or move on to sooething a little less challenging.

The monk argued that the challenge was proof that something valuable was at stake, if they could just prove their worth. The fighter challenged this, saying they had followed a rumour lacking in details far out on the tundra away from Ten Towns. The druid mused that there might be further challenges after the stalker, while the bard lamented that a rematch would not include Sahnar, one of their heaviest hitters.

As a Dungeon Master, it is great to sit back and watch your players interact in a way that requires little to no input from yourself. I did throw in the occasional tidbit like, "yeah tough to beat an invisible foe without something like faerie fire to even the field," prompting the druid's player to reply, "hmm, I actually have that spell..."

The debate went back and forth, with the monk being most insistent on trying again, since the ghostly council supposedly only appeared under the light of the full moon. The other players were more hesitant, arguing there were other rumours to explore, but also hating the idea of relinquishing potential loot.

Watching the monk player emphatically trying to make his case, I jokingly said, "Roll Persuasion!" He dutifully picked up a d20 and let fly, ended up with an imprssive result of 19.

"That isn't binding, is it?" asked the fighter player.

"No," I confirmed, "Player characters have agency, they get to make up their own minds."

The bard player finished his current beer and said, "Well, I'm convinced."

I blinked. "What? Really?"

"Not totally," he replied. "I, the player, think this is dumb idea that will likely result in some or all of us getting killed." Looking the monk player square in the eye, he continued with a grin. "But Yorrick Grondson, half-orc bard and adventurer, is completely on-board thanks to the effective arguments made by Fardun Glinthammer!"

Grinning, the monk player looked at his teammate running the gnomish druid, Merrick Frostbottom. "Well," he mused, "if we can keep me out of the scrum a bit longer, it could work..."

All eyes turned to the player running Ivar Ango, human bounty hunter, who stared back impassively for a long moment before finally sighing, "well, it's not like I am going to let you idiots do this without me, am I? So I guess I'm in too."

And so the next night, the adventurers set themselves up far more strategically, and when the frost giant skeleton was summoned this time, it was hard pressed to deal with the hit and run attacks of the nimble monk. Ivar darted between the massive stone thrones, forcing the undead thing to clamber over them in pursuit while spells shot forth from Yorrick and Merrick.

With the martial arts attacks of Fardun doing double damage to the brittle bones of the skeleton (and with it not rolling any critical hits this time!), they made short work of the first challenge in surprisingly little time.

And when the invisible stalked first attacked one of them, Merrick illuminated it with faerie fire, negating its primary defense. This allowed the rest of the party to flank it and take it down in again, a surprisingly quick fashion.

This prompted cheers around the table and a respectful nod from the ghost of King Reggaryarva, who raised his hand and...whoa, almost put more spoilers in there than I'd intended... Needless to say, the Ice Pack was elated, and the adventure will continue in early November.

From a coin check earlier in the evening; Sahnar (RIP) at the bottom

More Calling Nerds - Xmas 2025

 We did all the wonderfully mundane things a family is expected to do at Christmas - we opened our gifts and stockings as a group:

...we enjoyed a massive dinner together on Christmas day:

 ...and in fact, we are still enjoying the leftovers from what I called Merry Briskmas four days later (even better than turkey!):

... and maybe overdid it a little on the potatoes:

Photo, caption and potatoes: G. F.

We drank a significant number of Tom & Jerrys too, both here and at Auntie Betty's.

And I feel we earned all those indulgences fivefold (at least) since there was a non-zero chance of Fenya or Bobby being stranded in Toronto.

Oh why? Because there was no one available to look after their dog Skye, who has anxiety issues and cannot be left alone, and you are not permitted to check animals at this time of year because the baggage area is not heated. 

They got the largest under-seat kennel they could find and Skye (who could quite possibly be passed off as a large stoat) could turn around in it easily enough, but not fully stand up, as is required. They reconnoitered Pearson Airport the night before their flight and were told by the gate manager that he would allow it, but at the end of the day, it is the agents at check-in and the gate who would make the call, and can indeed turn a person away.

Which means if that individual is having a bad day, it is highly likely that you are going to have a bad day.

When the lady at check in said to Skye, "oh, you poor crushed thing," there were a fair number of dismayed expressions passing between my daughter and her husband. Without prompting, the dog demonstrated her ability to turn around within the carrier, and after some consideration, the agent begrudgingly allowed them to proceed. But not before needlessly reminding them that they could still be turned away at the gate.

So they kept their distance from the other passengers and vluntarily checked a carry-on when the agents asked for volunteers. This was in hopes of ingratiating themselves, but it also allowed them to board earlier than expected, and perhaps because the flight was so busy, nothing at all was said as they boarded and stuffed Skye's carrier beneath the seat in front of them. Of course, no real relief was had until they pushed away from the gate - unless you count the dog relieving herself in the carrier while perched on Bobby's lap and saturating the both of them.

Regardless, though, we were so grateful to have them both with us (Bobby had planned to stay in TO with Skye if it had come to that) that an unscheduled dog bath and shower for my son-in-law felt like a small price to pay.

The nerdiness truly began when they (all three, actually) were both able to join us in Rocky Mountain House where the three cousins played a Christmas D&D one-shot with my nephew Mark using some old characters of theirs. It is a dandy called "In the Black Midwinter" and features a ton of goofy references as well as a showdown with both the Krampus and Jülbocken!

But it really peaked for me when we arranged to play a session of our ongoing family campaign (or "fampaign", if you will) two nights ago with all eight players in a chapter-concluding boss fight!

Family time is obivously pretty crucial to me at Christmas, but playing D&D, in person, with my wife, two daughters, son-in-law, my wife's son as well as his own wife, sister and sister's fiance? From a scheduling perspective alone this was truly a mighty undertaking, and I am amazed and grateful we could pull it off!

We play the fampaign online around twice a month on average, across three (sometimes four!) timezones, but being together in the same kitchen for dinner and same basement for snacks and clickety clack math rocks and laughs was simply the best. We laughed more often and harder than we ever do over Google Meet, especially after I gave players the option of eating a random pull from the Jelly Belly "Fiery Five" collection to earn a re-roll. 

Two players drew the dreaded Carolina Reaper, which was almost debilitating. Poor Glory drew a habanero (the second hottest) to save her clerid Anja Stormdottir after rolling a 1 on her Death Save - only to have the reroll turn up as a 1 as well! 

Eherleschkeit kommt wieder I suppose...luckily the other cleric, Armida Plum, correctly assessed the seriousness of the mission and had thoughtfully prepared a Revivify spell which got her back on her feet.

At any rate, it was a tough battle that took several hours to play through and weapped up a little after one in the morning, but with no player casualties, and a lot of fun.

Sure, I also got a tremendous assortment of nerdy gifts, but the peak Christmas moment for me was playing a game I have loved for most of my life with people I love, at a time of year that our four households love.