Nous poursuivons avec les animations de Harryhausen – dans le désordre – avec Sinbad (1958). Et puis… C’est pas un grand film, disons-le… Avec probablement le pire accent (du magicien Sokurah) arabe (?) fake de l’histoire du cinéma! Ish… Mais tout de même, c’est du bon divertissement, les enfants ont aimé, et que dire d’un duel épique d’un dragon contre un cyclope?!
My 6 y-o son is too young for D&D but hey, look at this!
I don’t think I’ve ever used myconids, but that’s something I want to remediate soon enough. However, if I were to stick to D&D canon lore (which I won’t), myconids are supposed to be found exclusively in the underdark, the subterranean world home to the iconic drow. This was set in stone, so to speak, by Gary Gigax’s D1-2 Descent into the Depths of the Earth (1e), which of course, borrowed heavily on established hollow earth fiction (Jules Verne’s Voyage au centre de la Terre). More to the point, Gigax also borrowed the myconids, which were created in the earlier module A4 In the Dungeons of the Slave Lords, which was an subteranean adventure (mostly) but in no way deep in the bowels of the earth-subteranean.
They belong on the surface!
Leaving the myconids out of most of the more typical (surface) encounters is both sad and needless, in my opinion. Put in any setting, the potential is just mind-blowing…
MToF doesn’t add a whole lot of monsters to my Chult campaign. That was predictable. Nonetheless, there is some I may use such as: allip, sword wraith, vampiric mist and stone cursed.
And there’s one I will definitely use:
This warms my cold, dead heart. Truly, a thing of beauty!
I’ve read some of Clark Ashton Smith recently to see if could steal some ideas for my D&D Ruins of Chult campaign. I don’t know if I’ll be using any of it but here’s some cool stuff nonetheless:
The demon flower sprang from a bulb so encrusted with the growth of ages that it resembled a stone urn. Above this there rose the gnarled and mighty stalk that had displayed in earlier times the bifurcation of a mandrake, but whose halves had now grown together into a scaly, furrowed thing like the tail of some mythic sea-monster. The stalk was variegated with hues of greening bronze, of antique copper, with the livid blues and purples of fleshly corruption. It ended in a crown of stiff, blackish leaves, banded and spotted with poisonous, metallic white, and edged with sharp serrations as of savage weapons. From below the crown issued a long, sinuous arm, scaled like the main stem, and serpentining downward and outward to terminate in the huge upright bowl of a bizarre blossom — as if the arm, in sardonic fashion, should hold out a hellish beggar’s cup.
The Demon of the Flower by Clark Ashton Smith
An immortal demon-possessed plant/flower, the Voorqual has its own priesthood tasked of bringing it human sacrifices. Killing a Voorqual is seemingly impossible, the only way is with a rare poison and even then, the demon-spirit inhabiting the plant can jump on another being that, in time, will be transformed in another Voorqual (in the meanwhile a possessed human looks like a corrupted dryad, isn’t that cool?).
D&D use: A high level Boss fight. And the poison, necessary to have any kind of hope of defeating it, is a quest in itself, of course.
Maal Dweb approached the flower-women with a certain caution; for he knew that they were vampires. Their arms ended in long tendrils, pale as ivory, swifter and more supple than the coils of darting serpents, with which they were wont to secure the unwary victims drawn by their singing. Of course, knowing in his wisdom the inexorable laws of nature, he felt no disapproval of such vampirism; but, on the other hand, he did not care to be its object.
The Flower-Women by Clark Ashton Smith
A strange mix of siren, plant and vampire, the Flower-Women, interestingly, are victims in the tale that presents them. Indeed, the pterodactylesque Ispazars capture and mash the poor bloodsucking Flower-Women to use as ingredients for their fell sorcery.
D&D use: They have a lurid song as the harpies but stronger (even the very powerful Maal Dweb has a tough time resisting it), they can grapple and they should have regenerate but they’re not very mobile and have the other usual plant vulnerabilities (fire at least, perhaps necrotic).
The depredators were certain reptilian beings, colossal in size and winged like pterodactyls, who came down from their new-built citadel among the mountains at the valley’s upper extreme. These beings, known as the Ispazars, seven in number, had become formidable sorcerers and had developed an intellection beyond that of their kind, together with many esoteric faculties. Preserving the cold and evilly cryptic nature of reptiles, they had made themselves the masters of an abhuman science.
The Flower-Women by Clark Ashton Smith
I wish WotC had used some of that for Tomb of Annihilation…
They came toward him among the crowded vessels, walking erect in the fashion of men on their short lizard legs, their ribbed and sabled wings retracted behind them, and their eyes glaring redly in the gloom. Two of them were armed with long, sinuous-bladed knives; and others were equipped with enormous adamantine pestles, to be employed, no doubt, in bruising the flesh of the floral vampire.
The Flower-Women by Clark Ashton Smith
D&D use: Yes! Some of the pterafolks of Chult will be admantine-pestles-brandishing magic-users…
They’re street cleaners, removing offal, dejections, basically any organic waste. Sometimes they get a little less discriminatory about the unmoving quality of their sweepings.
That’s something I came up with while reading Jeff Vandermeer’s book:
What I’m stealing for my setting is only the cruder idea of the Gray Caps of Vandermeer, who aren’t even mushroom creatures as such, but are fuzzily described as smaller humanoids with a weird civilization based on advanced fungi technology.
The total creepiness and sinister threat of the Gray Caps I leave out, only because it won’t do thematically for my setting, but it was a very good read!
Far from the primeval forest of its youth, amidst the housings and the bustling urban activity, lives a strange creature: a cosmopolitan dryad. The most surprising thing? It chose to be there…
Of course, it could have had a better tree in the wild. But the crazyness of the crowd, the thousands of overheard tidbits of gossip, even the occasional surge of violence, this dryad loves it all!
Sometimes an unfolding event catch its fancy so much that it overcomes its usual shyness and asks a friendly-looking passerby about it. It rewards interesting information with some of its tree’s deliciously invigorating oranges.
Ogres are anabolic steroids (ogrenabol) users, of course. Humanoids taking ( by ingestion) ogrenabol gain tremendous strength but it has a terrible side-effect: intense deformity. Ogrenabol was synthetized by hobgoblin chemists almost a century ago. It’s not illegal but it’s costly.
Now, I like this concept… But I haven’t the faintest idea what I’m gonna do if a player wants to test ogrenabol for his PC… Oh well, let’s cross the bridge when we’ll come to it, I guess…
Cockatrice pit fighting.
Now, let’s assume that the cockatrices are, somehow, evolved(1) creatures and as such, likely to fight each other if left to their own devices, shouldn’t they be resistant (at least) to each other’s petrifying bite? Let’s say, to keep it simple, that they have advantage vs petrification (2).
- their owners have thick leather gloves
- their wings are clipped so they don’t fly away
- champion cockatrices may have a little bonus to their attack or save or both
Freshwater Dragon Turtle
The freshwater dragon turtle is a lot smaller than its oceanic cousin. Many of these beasts have found their way in the canals of the City where they seem satisfied to operate as living rafts, transporting both people and merchandises, for a fee. Being as intelligent (int: 10) as their gargantuan relatives, these dragon turtles accept partnerships with a “pilot” (that don’t have any piloting to do) who will negociate fees and seek clients, for everyone’s convenience.
Approaching their nesting sites, at the bottom of the Sacred Lake, is a sure way to be attacked by these otherwise peaceful creatures.
The freshwater dragon turtle is of huge size, is CR 6 (compared to 17) and steam breath is very rarely exhibited amongst them.
A Galeb Duhr typically come into existence, however briefly, in the aftermath of a brutal street fight that saw a lot of brick/pavement throwing. It’s supposed that the creature’s existence – formed from the very stuff that litters the street – is a defense mechanism set in motion by the ambient angst and the City’s magic.
Most of the time, the Galeb Dhur brutalize some of the nearby offenders and then simply resume its inert state. Sometimes though, it lingers and endangers until forcefully put to rest…
As if the numerous troublesome gangs weren’t enough, outside parties often invite themselves to the woe of the inhabitants.
Gargoyles from the Folly
There’s many clutches of gargoyles living among the Folly’s dizzying heights. They’re very territorial and constantly at each other’s throats. They mostly keep to their high above ground perches but recently, the Covellites gargoyles, under pressure by an alliance of Realgars and Pyrites, have started making forays into the Harlequin.
Thrill-seeking Enclave Elves
Boredom can be a powerful driving force, suffer a couple of centuries of it and I’m sure you’ll agree. A manifestation of this is expressed by those elven interlopers going for a stroll in the “bad neighborhood”. Most of the time, such a group is escorted by hired arms and the elves themselves are comically clad with antique (and mostly useless) armors. Less often, these Enclave Elves want to really test themselves and get some action. Some are actually quite good at it.
Kwaggers from… the Kwag
Be they of any races, kwaggers are kwaggers. Crazy, violent slum people who don’t even seem to want to better their lives. But then, the Kwag is literally a nexus of bad energy. Folks who live there don’t stay sane very long. Sometimes things spill out, a gate gets destroyed or a levy-bridge breaks, slamming down, and the Kwaggers swarm over, howling and clawing like madmen.