The hills have arms (and they're beating your ass)

Elementals

Certain ideas are on their face kind of lame or frustratingly executed, but have a kernel of something resonant that keeps bringing you back. It's like the flaws are there to taunt you, challenging you to fix them. 

Old school D&D is like that. BX is a terrific game with enough tremendous flops and oversights that designing house rules and derivative systems has essentially become a hobby in and of itself.

D&D elementals also fall in this category. People have been providing new rules, alternative interpretations, and added texture for decades. Chris Hogan has a good writeup on why elementals are boring and what can be done about them, and it's from way back in the day when people started their posts with a Captain Planet reference (it's good though and you should read it. No one posts like that anymore). 

A lot of people go in the direction of adding layers nuance to elementals and changing the baseline assumptions. This post from Scrap Princess has been knocking around my brain for years, and even though I haven't found a use for it in my game it's a welcome addition to my mental ecosystem. "Gravity fire" is a good example of the kind of radical direction people take the elemental concept.

I like this approach a lot, but when you change elementals too much it requires a lot more buy-in from the players. The baseline concept for elementals is so easy to grasp it almost feels too straightforward, but hear me out: An wildfire is scary, but a sentient wildfire that's trying to kill you, specifically, is terrifying, exhilarating, and somewhat absurd—perfect for a D&D game. Living tornados and walking earthquakes might not be the most glamorous (certainly underserved by the official art) but damn it they can be fun too. They're like those OSR-style challenges we all go crazy for but with hit points. 

The problem is, nothing about this is reflected in the stats. We're led to believe elementals are living  flames/winds/water/earth but you can walk right up to one and whack it with a sword? And the only risk you run is being targeted by its one attack per round? Something's not right here.

This is just a side-note before I move on, but a point I've never seen mentioned before is the monster listing for elementals in both O and AD&D imply they are only the stats for conjured elementals (either by staff, spell, or device). The AD&D Monster Manual even goes so far as to specify more sophisticated elementals exist "than can be summoned." Over time, these "conjured elementals" became the standard all-purpose elemental, leading to the uncomfortable middle ground we have today where they're kind of mindless bag-of-hitpoint monsters but are also supposed to be the dominant lifeform on their respective plane, which supposedly all have their own cultures and civilizations.   

What D&D does well

Conjured elementals map neatly to things high-level characters will do, namely aerial adventures, seafaring adventures, domain-level stronghold sieges, and messing around with large quantities of fire.

When a magic-user conjures an elemental it requires their full concentration to maintain control. This implies elementals are like bound spirits held against their will, which is very on-theme. Elementals summoned by druids don't turn on their masters, probably because they asked nicely. 

Little details about how elementals’ size changes based on their power and how fire and earth elementals are obstructed by channels of water are nice and lend some tactical depth for keen parties to leverage. 

Treating elementals as extraplanar entities instead of constructs gives elementals an appropriately numinous quality, even if their statblocks don’t measure up. 

In AD&D, certain spells require the presence of an elemental or become stronger if an elemental is used in their casting. This is only true for earth and air elementals (distance distortion and move earth for earth, call lightning for air) but there’s a lot of potential for this to be expanded. Magic-users conjuring planar beings to aid their spellcasting is exceptionally evocative and I’ll most definitely steal that idea. 

This is how elementals work now

Elementals are formed when essence from the planetary lifestream is sequestered in base matter—in the D&D world, this means fire, water, earth, and air, instead of like atoms or whatever. 

Digression: There's no elemental plane of air/fire etc. There is only one elemental plane, and it surrounds and touches this one at all points. The elemental plane—wizards call it the Plane of Elemental Anima, capitalized—is where the world's living essence exists in tangible form. It's also the place where beings like animistic nature spirits, djinns, and all those weird elemental monsters from the Rules Cyclopedia like helions and the kryst reside. Barbarians call the elemental plane the "Godrealm," as that is where their many heathen deities originate. 

Conjured elementals, generally, should not be dealt with as typical monsters. Mundane weapons are useless, and magical weapons only deal minimal damage unless specifically designed to harm enchanted or extraplanar creatures. Damage to an elemental's corporeal form is just reconstituted from the surrounding element.

The most common way to defeat an elemental is by depriving it of its matter. Cut off a water elemental from its source, trap a wind elemental in a vacuum, uproot an earth elemental, deny an fire elemental access to fuel. 

Smart players would go after the commanding MU to break their concentration. You'd think most MUs have contingencies in place to prevent this from happening, but evil wizards have a habit of underestimating plucky adventurers.

The easiest way to handle an elemental is by commanding another to fight it or casting a spell of banishment. The problem is, this requires collaboration with powerful MUs and/or clerics, who are rare, expensive, and hard to get along with in equal measure. 

Elementals also have utility, believe it or not, outside of combat. Their life essence can be channeled to manipulate their native element. [design note: RAW conjured elementals exist indefinitely until slain or dismissed. I like the idea of using elementals for non-combat activities but if they last forever they would be too useful and unbalance the game. Exchanging hp for more capabilities is my compromise.]

Here are the stats to make conjured elementals more like the primordial forces of nature they ought to be: 

Air

Appearance ideas

8 HD:  Airborne debris flying like a starling murmuration

12 HD: A screaming, whirling disk of silvery cloud-stuff. Whizzes around recklessly.  

16 HD: A storm cloud serpent with thunderbolt wings 

AC 2/0/-2 Att. +7/+9/+11 blow (1d8/2d8/3d8) Mv. 360'(120') flying Saves: as HD Morale: 10 Alignment: Neutral

• Must be conjured under the open sky.
• Deals an extra 1d8 damage to flying foes. 
• Creatures less than 2 HD in melee range must save vs. death each round or die from suffocation.
• In place of doing damage, hit creatures up to ogre size can be flung 1d4x10' in any direction, taking fall damage as applicable. 
• Dissipates if trapped indoors or in other enclosed spaces.

Additional powers

• Thunderclap. Costs 2d8 hp. Releases a concussive burst that can be heard for miles; creatures within 50’ must save vs. breath or take 2d12 damage and be deafened and stunned (half movement and -4 to attack rolls) for 2d6 rounds, half damage on a success.
• Tailwind. Costs 2d8 hp per hour. Allows sailboats and aerial vessels to move at 1.5x speed.

Earth 

Appearance ideas

8 HD: Upper body like a man, lower body like a giant earthen slug 

12 HD: A slouched ape figure with arms thick as tree trunks 

16 HD: A seismic wave-hill that drags itself on four giant pillar-like appendages 

AC 2/0/-2 Att. +7/+9/+11 blow (1d8/2d8/3d8) Mv. 60'(20') moves freely through unworked earth Saves: as HD Morale: 10 Alignment: Neutral

• Must be conjured from raw dirt, stone, sand, or clay.
• Deals an extra 1d8 damage to structures and foes on the ground.
• In place of attacking, can create a tremor that causes everyone in 20' to fall over and save vs. paralysis or take 1d6 damage. 
• Cannot cross a water barrier wider than their HD in feet.
• Dissipates if uprooted from the earth. Explosives harm earth elementals, as does falling, which kills them outright. Large scale excavation equipment deals normal damage—a human with a shovel won't do anything, but a giant with a giant shovel is a different story.

Additional powers

• Liquefaction. Costs 2d8 hp. The ground in a 30’ radius becomes quicksand.
• Land formation. Costs 3d8. The elemental forms itself into a shape of whoever commands its choosing (wall, pillar, small hut, etc.). Total volume of earth available to manipulate is 400/600/800 cubic feet. The elemental is inert while shaped (yet still conscious), and must lose another 3d8 hp to return to its original form. MUs still need to maintain concentration while an elemental is shaped, or else it will slip from their control and revert to its original form. 

Fire

Jon Silent

AC 2/0/-2 Att. +7/+9/+11 blow (1d8/2d8/3d8) Mv. 120'(40') Saves: as HD Morale: 10 Alignment: Neutral

Appearance ideas

8 HD: Hundreds of small flaming figures dancing and leaping, their heads like tiny stars.

12 HD: A riotous vortex of fire unfurling like a rose.

16 HD: A plasma toroid hovering ominously above the ground.

• Must be conjured from a roaring fire of at least man-height.
• Automatically damages foes in melee range. Ignites flammable material.
• Cannot cross a water barrier wider than their HD in feet.
• Loses 2 hp each round it lacks access to fuel (dry firewood, oil, etc.).

Additional powers

• Combust. Costs 2d8 hp. Deals an amount of damage equal to hp lost to every creature within 30’, save vs. spells for half. Any amount of additional hp may be spent to bolster the effect.
• Primordial crucible. A fire elemental can be bound in order to reduce the time (but not the cost) of creating a magic item by 1 week per HD. There's a 10% chance each week the elemental escapes from it's binding and attacks it master, ruining the magic item in the process. The elemental dissipates once the magic item is created, and can be dismissed at any time—for example, an MU can decide that after shaving 8 weeks off a 6-month project they don't want to risk it any more, they can dismiss their elemental and work the remaining 4 months alone. 

Water

Appearance ideas

8 HD: Wriggling mass of transparent worms

12 HD: A broad ribbon of water, gently swaying

16 HD: A roiling black water leviathan with glassy sheen, flecked by sparks of bioluminescence

AC 2/0/-2 Att. +7/+9/+11 blow (1d8/2d8/3d8) Mv.  60’(20’) on land, instantaneously disperses and reconstitutes anywhere in a 180’ radius while in water. Saves: as HD Morale: 10 Alignment: Neutral

• Must be conjured from a body of water no smaller than a pond or creek.
• Deals an extra 1d8 damage to foes in water.
• A water elemental can attempt to surround and submerge a foe by moving into the space it occupies. Save vs. paralysis or be restrained by the elemental and unable to breathe (losing consciousness in 2 rounds). On a successful save the creature is pushed back 10’. 
• Dissipates if more than 60’ from its water source.

Additional powers

• Phase change. Costs 1d8 hp. Elemental becomes mist, ice, or turns back to water. It can freeze around submerged foes, trapping them and inflicting 1d6 damage as they get crushed by expanding ice.
• Maelstrom. Costs 1d8 hp per round. Elemental creates a giant whirlpool that sucks boats and traps aquatic creatures. Potentially surfaces submerged treasure or awakens abyssopelagic sea monsters.

Characters deserve cool mounts

Every once in a while you see something and think “I don’t care how or when but this is going in my game.” 

That happened to me recently with the early concept art of the Final Fantasy chocobo:

God AKA Yoshitaka Amano

Running birds. Wizards call them gallopedes. 

HD 5 AC 7 Att. +4 talon x 2 (1d6) or beak (2d6) Move 270' (90') Save 12 Morale 9 NA 1d6 (3d8)

They can charge into combat like a warhorse and carry as much as a draft horse. Big enough to accommodate two riders. 

Running birds aren't for sale in any town or settlement. Herds are only known to gather in hex 1512, the Gallopede Glade. There’s a 1:20 chance per visit the Brollothere is hanging out there too.

From Yūkyū no Kaze Densetsu: Final Fantasy III Yori

The glade is also home to Yulassetar, a mossy dwarf with an old gnarled pipe permanently fixed between his lips. He lives in a pleasant cottage with his pet dire ferret and welcomes friendly visitors. 

He’ll tell the PCs, as they're sure to ask, the two steps to befriending a running bird:

The first step to earn one's respect is to beat it in a race. It's not hard to initiate; running birds are highly social creatures and love contests of speed. Winning is a different story though, as a typical running bird can easily pace the swiftest riding horse.  

The second step is to have it accept a gift of food. Yulassetar recommends caecilia steak slathered in killer bee honey.

After both steps are completed the running bird will be your ally for life. It obeys simple commands, fends for itself, and like all creatures with common sense it avoids entering dungeons. If its mistreated or its owner dies, it'll return to the glade. 

When running birds sleep they curl up into a perfect sphere. 

From the first Legend of the Crystals OVA

Clerics as monster slayers

"My life... my job... my curse... is to vanquish evil."

-Van Helsing, 2004

As the story goes, clerics were introduced to the game when the players wanted a character class that could slay a vampire. Peter Cushing's Van Helsing in the Hammer horror films was the foundation, to which (Wikipedia says) Gygax later added a more knights-templar-religious-militant flavor to the class.

 

I appreciate the knights templar healer-tank cleric but in a sense they get overshadowed by paladins. Meanwhile, I love the concept of a Van Helsing-style hunter and expert of supernatural fiends. And also the Exorcist—not like Damien Karras but Lankester Merrin and Father Morning, holy men pulled by fate into conflict with the enemies of god. 

So for a while I've been sitting on this idea and I had the thought that in a lot of media focused around vampire/monster slaying, starting perhaps in Stoker's Dracula but most likely before, there's a big emphasis on stuff—the tools and weapons used in the practice of slaying. Wooden stakes, garlic, holy water, even the fanciful gadgets in later monster slayer films like Van Helsing, Blade, and Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters. 

What that led me to was this: you know the Hammer horror props like garlic and wolfsbane gathering dust on the adventuring gear list because no one buys them? Anyone can use them for their implied purpose, but a cleric's special training and covenant with god grants new capabilities, as follows: 

Wolfsbane. A dried bundle (about the size of a torch) forces lycanthropes to check morale if a character whacks them with one in melee combat. In the hands of a cleric, wolfsbane takes on the properties of a mace +1 against lycanthropes. Additionally, wolfsbane's potent medicinal properties allows clerics to treat a recently poisoned character by beating the poison out of them. The poisoned character takes 1d6 damage and is granted another saving throw with a bonus equal to the damage received. 

Holy water. Undead creatures doused in holy water take 1d8 damage for 2 turns. Clerics can sprinkle holy water on undead and demons while saying a prayer to deal 1d8 damage or remove any mundane damage immunity until the end of the turn. This counts as a close-range attack but uses the cleric's ranged attack bonus. One vial holds enough for 6 sprays.

• An Aspergillum can hold up to two vials worth of holy water and doubles as a mace. One can be purchased at a church for 500 sp by clerics of at least 3rd level.  

Wooden stake. Piercing a vampire’s heart with one will destroy it, but this typically requires hammering in the stake with a mallet. In the hands of a cleric, a successful melee attack with a stake will slay the vampire if it has 4 hp or less. At level 9 clerics can throw stakes as if they were daggers. 

Salt. A cleric can pour a line on the ground to create a barrier undead and creatures of the lower planes cannot cross. One sack has enough salt for a 30’ line. Effect lasts for one turn before the line degrades. Creatures with HD greater than the cleric are only warded for 1d4 rounds. 

Bell. A cleric can spend a round standing stationary, ringing a bell, and chanting a prayer to cause creatures possessed by chaotic entities, including constructs and animated objects, to save vs. paralysis or be unable to move or attack (cleric’s choice) until the next round. 

Garlic. Normally, a character can chew a clove of garlic to avoid being attacked by a vampire. A cleric can crush a head of garlic while uttering a blessing to prevent vampires and other creatures of chaos from using charm and mind-control abilities as well as prevent the transmission of curses and diseases within a 20’ radius. The effect lasts for 1 minute, after which the crushed garlic loses its potency.    

Is giving these extra capabilities to clerics overpowered? Maybe, but these features are limited by the fact that they require gear, meaning players still have to plan in advance based on what they are going up against, and only function against specific types of enemies. Undead are some of the most dangerous foes in the game, so granting clerics more options to engage allows the party to be more proactive. This isn't a flat buff so much as it is a retuning of certain encounters to be more puzzle-like. 

Slayer clerics

To make the cleric less templar and more slayer, the easy way would be to swap the weapon and armor restrictions such that they can wield any weapon but can't wear plate mail. That way they can use thematically appropriate weapons like crossbows and throwing knives while not wearing heavy armor, which figures in slayer media never seem to wear. 

For a more robust subclass I put this together:

SLAYERS. Clerics sworn to vanquish creatures of chaos. Everything as the base class with the following changes.

• 2:6 chance to climb, hide, move silently, and know lore about a creature of chaos, gaining 1 skill point per level.
• Ability to use firearms, crossbows, and one-handed bladed weapons except against humans and demihumans.
• Turn functions against fiends and extraplanar creatures as well as undead—however, instead of destroying such creatures, they are sent back to their plane of origin.
• Borderline heretical practices prevent slayers from benefiting from cleric services in settlements. Other clerics have a flat 50% chance of not recognizing you as legitimate.
• Slayers require mobility to fight and use their abilities and so may only wear leather armor. 
• Destined for a lifetime of conflict against the enemies of their god, slayers may not construct strongholds after reaching 9th level.
• A wide-brim hat is standard headgear. 

Inspiration:

From top to bottom: Gabriel Van Helsing from Van Helsing, D from Vampire Hunter D, Solomon Kane, Grégoire de Fronsac and Mani from Brotherhood of the Wolf

How I'm doing thieves' cant from now on

Jasper, this month, is the Word. 

Jasper is the pass/code/warning that the Singers of the Cities (who, last month, sang “Opal” from their divine injuries; and on Mars I’d heard the Word and used it thrice, along with devious imitations, to fix possession of what was not rightfully my own; and even there I pondered Singers and their wounds) relay by word of mouth for that loose and roguish fraternity with which I have been involved (in various guises) these nine years. It goes out new every thirty days; and within hours every brother knows it, throughout six worlds and worldlets. Usually it’s grunted at you by some blood-soaked bastard staggering into your arms from a dark doorway; hissed at you as you pass a shadowed alley; scrawled on a paper scrap pressed into your palm by some nasty-grimy moving too fast through the crowd. And this month, it was: Jasper. 

Here are some alternate translations: 

Help! 

or 

I need help! 

or 

I can help you! 

or 

You are being watched! 

or 

They’re not watching now, so move! 

Final point of syntax: If the Word is used properly, you should never have to think twice about what it means in a given situation. Fine point of usage: Never trust anyone who uses it improperly.

From "Time Considered as a Helix of Semi-Precious Stones" by Samuel Delany

Some dungeon fauna

Add these to the list of troublesome resource-consuming creatures like rust monsters, oozes, and the like.

Tongue crab

Ornery crustaceans that come to about mid-thigh with a dull teal shell and big slimy purple tongue.

HD 2+1 AC 5 Att. +2 Pincer (1d4) x 2 or tongue (1d6 + special) Mv. 60’(20’) Save 14 ML 8 Xp 50 NA 2d8 (4d6)

• Anklegrabber: if a pincer attack hits for full damage, target is knocked prone.
• Tongue: Leaves fast-drying gluey slime on hit, subject gets a cumulative -1 to attacks and AC until PC spends a turn cleaning off. Stains terribly. 
• Slime from their tongue can be harvested and used as an adhesive. Must be stored in an airtight container. 

Festerling

Scrawny dingo-creatures with pale greenish fur and equally pale fishy eyes. The bloated sacs beneath their chins lets them breath a gas that rapidly decays organic matter, which they have a rabid appetite for. 

HD 3 AC 6 Att. +2 bite (1d4+1) or rotting breath Mv. 120’(40’)  Save 14 ML 7 Xp 50 NA 2d6 (3d8)

• Appetite: First priority will always be to rot and eat organic matter. 
• Rotting breath: save vs. breath or take 1d6 damage. Destroys leather armor and held rations.
• Gas sac can be harvested; contains 1 attack-worth of rotting breath.  

Rune-eater

Serpentine reptiles with iridescent scales and too many legs. Their head exists fully within the Weird—to mundane viewers, it appears their body terminates at the neck, above which is a shimmery nimbus through which the outline of a wedge-shaped lizard head is visible in certain light. 

HD 4+1 AC 6 Att. +3 claw x 2 (1d6) and bite (2d4) Ml. 7 Mv. 150’(50’) NA 1d6 (2d12) 

• Only harmed by mundane attacks. 
• Target spellcasters. Attacks always disrupt spells, even if they miss. A successful bite attack against a foe with prepared spells causes them to lose a spell at random. 
• Devours the dweomer within magic symbols and glyphs, depowering them. 
• During the pursuit/evasion sequence, rune-eaters will be distracted by dropped spell books and scrolls.
• Their intestinal tract can be excised and unraveled to serve as a magic scroll with 1d4 random spells

Tar men

Bloated goopy bog bodies filled with pitch and tar. Drawn to flame like a moth; their hatred of the living is matched only by their desire to burn. 

HD 2 AC 9 Att. +1 slam (1d4 on a 4 target is stuck and automatically damaged next round) Ml. 12 Mv. 60’(20’) NA 1d8 (3d6) 

• Highly flammable. If damaged by fire, a tar man takes 2 damage every round and its attacks deal +2 damage.
• Can be damaged by mundane weapons but can only be killed by magic or fire.
• Weapons get stuck, requiring a full round of effort to dislodge. 
• Immune to poison and mind control.

Hobgoblin warband generator

To live is to be at war. Some liken the world to a vast wilderness, where dangers silently roam the forests and hills beyond the safe confines of civilization. This is false. The world is like an open ocean filled with creatures that exist solely to destroy one another. There is nowhere to hide, nowhere to flee to escape the world of slaughter. All one can do to survive is kill as much as they can before they in turn meet their demise. 

That is life for a hobgoblin. Everything is a threat. Every other living being wants to subjugate or enslave or kill you and if they say they aren’t they’re lying or too weak to survive.

Their warbands aren't merely tactical formations, but survival mechanisms in a reality where isolation means death. By combining strength, hobgoblins create islands of relative stability in an endless sea of enemies. 

Though amenable to diplomacy when practicality demands, their fundamental worldview prevents true trust or alliance. The warband represents the only viable response to their existential condition: the means to survive amid the unceasing slaughter they believe defines all existence.

Mythic origins

Long ago, when the many heads of Idnach were at war with one another, the most vengeful bit off her right hand in an act of spite. From the red stump blood flowed profusely, and from each drop a hobgoblin was born. 

Hobgoblins spawn in pools of blood where trace amounts of Idnach’s blood remain. The pools are fed with the blood of other creatures, which is consumed by the great demon's blood so that it may grow. 

Locating and securing these blood pools is of utmost interest to hobgoblins. There are 39 active pools in the known lands, 22 controlled by the empire and the rest by rival legions. Many have been lost or destroyed; many due to inter-hobgoblin wars, and some from dwarven campaigns, which explains the bone-deep racial animus the hobgoblins have toward them. 

The hobgoblin emperor currently plots to send an army to Idnach's domain and reopen her ancient wound so that fresh blood might flow once more. 

Civilization

The basic unit of hobgoblin society is the warband. Smaller groups are nomadic and subsist mostly on raids and pillaging, Larger groups occupy castles or fortresses and slowly conquer the territory surrounding them. An orc horde might plunder a town and move on to the next, but hobgoblins have much more perspective. Captured villages are occupied and converted to closely monitored labor camps that fuel the hobgoblins' conquest. 

Warbands rarely subsume one another. Instead, defeated warbands simply fall under the others command, keeping their name and iconography. The mightiest hobgoblin legions are made up of dozens if not hundreds of warbands.

The only other thing that can be said to shape hobgoblin society as much as the military is the bureaucracy, though in truth no clear distinction can be made. The bureaucracy is an atavistically convoluted, dizzying nightmare of overlapping authority and nonsensical priorities. Extreme compartmentalization between departments and incompatible coding systems, layers and layers of mandatory verification conducted by mutually hostile agencies, betrayal officers with the sole purpose of sabotaging incomplete processes, ranks within ranks where authority is both absolute and constantly undermined; no hobgoblin administration would be complete without all this and more.

The paradox is that despite—or because of—this brutal inefficiency, hobgoblin bureaucracies function staggeringly well. Hobgoblins simply operate on an alien logic; their reality bends and tumbles into a shape that lets their systems work, while they find human organizing structures as ghastly and we find theirs. 

This bizarre logic extends to their design sensibility. Everything not covered in spikes is adorned with anguished gargoyles, severed limbs, vulgar blasphemies, barbed wire, and the like. Warband camps are like carnivals of horror and fortresses like disorienting cathedrals, every surface a riot of maddening ornamentation.

Hobgoblins & magic

Hobgoblins, like all children of Idnach, exist partially in the Weird. As other races must channel the etheric potencies of the Weird through precise ritual and craft, for hobgoblins it behaves like soft mud, where manipulating it is as straightforward as picking up a clod and molded it as one fancies. It can be said that hobgoblin warlocks have a “study” of magic as do magic-users of other races, but their practice is far more impressionistic, associated more with the honing of instinctive behaviors and bizarre compulsions than the application of formula. 

Hobgoblin magic items typically involve subverting a tool's conventional purpose. A lantern that spews occluding smoke. A whetstone that leaves any blade it passes over as malleable as soft clay. A hammer that pulls apart structures, freeing nails and fasteners with every swing. 

Warband generator

Roll 5d6. That's the number of basic grunts in the squad. 

A quarter of the basic grunts will be mounted, riding... (1d6)

1. Wolves
2. Boars
3. Axebeaks
4. Giant spiders 
5. Giant bats
6. Perytons

For every 8 basic grunts, the warband will be accompanied by a... (1d20)

1. Ogre
2. Troll
3. Ettin
4. Cyclops
5. Manticore
6. Hag
7. Tirapheg
8. Minotaur
9. Evil treant carrying 1d4 hobgoblin sharpshooters in its branches
10. Morningstar scorpion
11. Otyugh
12. Squad of 1d4+1 harpies carrying barbed nets and flaming oil
13. Catoblepas
14. Chimera
15. Wyvern
16. Squad of 1d6+1  bugbear shock troopers
17. Flaywheel (like one of those circus wheel things covered in spikes and blades; moves 50'/round and anyone in its path must save vs. paralysis or takes 2d6 damage) piloted by 2 hobgoblin acrobats
18. Giant crab w/ howdah carrying 1d4 hobgoblin grenadiers
19. Rhagodessa
20. Giant horned lizard

The warband will be led by a hobgoblin with 1d3+2 HD accompanied by 2 lieutenants with 1 fewer HD. 

There is a 50% chance that 1d4 of the basic grunts are hobgoblin warlocks—3 HD magic-users capable of doing one of the following every other round (choose or roll randomly):

1. Cause a mundane man-sized or smaller object within 60' to break (if it's held or worn by someone they get a save to resist).
2. Create a 30' radius cloud of thick, choking smoke anywhere within 120'.
3. Throw a fireball up to 90' away that deals 3d6 damage in a 15' radius (save vs. spells for half).
4. Levitate up to 20'.
5. Create an illusion that causes supernatural fear in up to 8 Hit Dice of creatures of 4 HD or lower.
6. Undo the last damage suffered by an ally within 30'.

This post would be incomplete without the much-beloved Hayami Rasenjin hobgoblin, which I learned he submitted to a D&D monster drawing contest organized by the great Tony DiTerlizzi. 

DiTerlizzi's own take on the hobgoblin, which he said was inspired by the Tolmekians from Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind. 

And now, time for passive abilities

After discussing active abilities a little while ago I've been thinking more about passive features and ways to make them interesting. 

Many mischaracterize passive abilities as being boring or forgettable and then use an example like "the players aren't going to care if they find a ring that grants +1 to a single save." But using something like that as an example like saying active abilities are boring or forgettable because no one cares if they acquire a feature that lets them mimic the sound of a cow 1/day. Actually I know some people that would totally get a kick out of that, but the point both active and passive features can be engaging if they have some consequential impact on how a player approaches the game. Here are three thoughts I have on giving passive features more consequence:

1. Conditions

A condition that must be satisfied before a passive feature is applied lends it a bit of dynamism. "You can travel 3x as fast in complete darkness," "You never have to rest when below half health," "you get +5 to attacks and damage while on fire" — on its own a feature might be bland, but building in a necessary condition allows you to play with tradeoffs, flavor, and scale. 

+2 to using an undead as an improvised weapon when standing naked in a field

2. Capabilities, not statistics

If your players find a feather that lets them jump 20' into the air and land safely I guarantee they won't forget about it—even though it's technically a passive, numerical bonus. Why? Because it effects the PC's capacity to explore and interact with the game world. 

There are undoubtably many exceptions to this but the conclusion I've come to is that the aspects that have the most bearing on how PCs exist and interact with the game world have greater capacity to promote different approaches than the aspects of characters that deal in abstractions, like saving throws and ability scores.   

3. Distinction through specificity

I don't like features that just amount to tacking on modifiers to a roll. An easy way around this is to just use dice modifiers (+d4) instead of flat numbers (+2), but that doesn't really get to the root of the problem, which is the lack of some resonance to make the feature stand out. This resonance can be approximated through adding specific details that add thematic heft. Being able to smell all magic is kind of vanilla, but being able to smell magic cast by elves, or magic cast by those with positive intentions, or being able to tell what someone fears based on how their magic smells, all add a dimension of particularity to the feature. Adding these kinds of details takes a bit more thought, but they also allow you to convey more of whatever theme the feature was meant to embody.