Quote from Gh0styy>>Displacer beasts are fun as far as beasts go, manticore are fun, but rarely get roleplay. They can actually talk, which makes them really fun and scary villains, added to their human faces. any fun little abandoned settlement, cave, or ruins in the woods can be a fun mini encounter. Maybe an abandoned druid temple occupied by vine zombies and undead. gnolls are also cool, and If you run them they deserve a little prep. gnolls are very wild and territorrial, travel in bands of 20 to 30 like in the Two Towers movie. a gnoll band encountered probably shows some carnage in its wake, and signs of their movement. they fight dirty and savagely, and destroy basically everything in their wake. trolls are a good encounter for level 3, and beyond that fun in a small group. a pack of werewolves or wearboars would be fun, extorting travelers and biting and killing those who don't comply. a yeti or abominable yeti is fun in a winter forest environment.
I just used the abandoned temple idea- I flavored it to be a abandoned temple of Tyr taken over by a Druid of Solarus, the main evil god in my campaign. One of my characters worships Tyr, which made it even more interesting! These suggestions have all been helpful.
Quote from Gh0styy>>Displacer beasts are fun as far as beasts go, manticore are fun, but rarely get roleplay. They can actually talk, which makes them really fun and scary villains, added to their human faces. any fun little abandoned settlement, cave, or ruins in the woods can be a fun mini encounter. Maybe an abandoned druid temple occupied by vine zombies and undead. gnolls are also cool, and If you run them they deserve a little prep. gnolls are very wild and territorrial, travel in bands of 20 to 30 like in the Two Towers movie. a gnoll band encountered probably shows some carnage in its wake, and signs of their movement. they fight dirty and savagely, and destroy basically everything in their wake. trolls are a good encounter for level 3, and beyond that fun in a small group. a pack of werewolves or wearboars would be fun, extorting travelers and biting and killing those who don't comply. a yeti or abominable yeti is fun in a winter forest environment.
I just used the abandoned temple idea- I flavored it to be a abandoned temple of Tyr taken over by a Druid of Solarus, the main evil god in my campaign. One of my characters worships Tyr, which made it even more interesting! These suggestions have all been helpful.
Awesome! Glad you all like it! Ive taken a christmas break but now that the holidays are over I can get back to writing. I know I've been saying "new articles soon" for a while but they are coming. There will be one for the mimic and one for spectators. Any other suggestions are welcome.
"Sometimes a chest is just a chest, but don't bet on it..."
-X the Mystic's 3rd rule of dungeon survival
It's a stool! It's a chest! It's... eating your hand? It's a mimic! Mimic's are iconic D&D creatures known for their ability to shapeshift into any object around their size for a frightening and sticky surprise to the one who picks it up. Mimics have the basic ambush attacker profile, with high strength and constitution, the grappler feat, which comes in handy when added onto their pseudopod attack, and high stealth. So, they can sneak up on you, and once they grab on, they don't let go. However, you can only pull the old "chest you wanted to open to loot the dungeon is really a mimic" trick so many times before it gets old. So how to spruce up these squishy shapeshifters? Let's dive in.
The Mimic Problem
As I mentioned in the ooze article, mimics and oozes both share a bit of nostalgic tendency among D&D players, especially those who remember the dungeon crawl days. And, as I also mentioned, this nostalgia might lead DM's to neglect or forfeit use of these creatures altogether. However, I think forgetting these creatures entirely is a huge mistake. As I've often said, the key to making a creature fun and enjoyable lies not in the statblock alone, but how you use the tools you are given, plus your own creative spin, to make them as fun for your players as possible. And, especially if you have new and young players who remember not the dungeon crawl days but have only played D&D in the critical role era, it might be fun to shock them with a little dungeon crawl action now and then. And speaking of shocks, mimics are perfect if you need to jumpscare the willies out of your players. After all, they can shapeshift into any object. That already gives them stellar opportunity in your game. But first, let's think about how these monstrosities operate. Mimics do have low intelligence, a solid 5 (-3). This is bestial intelligence, which assumes that, while they may not be advanced enough to talk or express complicated thought, they do have a certain level of instinct and bestial cunning. They are hunters after all. They are also monstrosities which is the 5e categorization for a thing that can't be categorized anywhere else. This usually involves creatures of uncertain magical origins, such as a manticore or an owlbear. Although based on how most of those backstories go, we can theorize that mimics were most likely born when a transmuter sneezed into a polymorph potion, creating the shapeshifting purple boogers we all know and fear today. Their nature as a monstrosity doesn't particularly come into play when trying to run mimics, although it does provide interesting story opportunities for a way in which you choose to use mimics in your campaign. Just take the idea of an experimenting transmuter perhaps in a world where mimics don't even exist yet, meddling with polymporph potions, and creates these creatures as living polymorphs. However, the mimics are loosed in his lab, and he hires the party to go and find them. You could play it with a very serious horror undertone, playing up their shapeshifting abilities with jumpscares, or play it as a very lighthearted comical short, where the mimics are still chaotic and weird, but not as malicious as they seem. The possibilities are endless. And while their statblock isn't the most detailed one ever, mimics are still open to versatility and creativity. Just look at the variations already released. Everything from giant mimics, like the actual giant mimic, to the spitting mimic. Fizban's even features the Hoard mimic, a go big or go home spin on the class disguised-as-a-magical-item trope. After all, what's more tempting than a single magical sword? An entire trove of treasure! Imagine your players surprise when they infiltrate the vault or dragon's layer only to discover that the hoard itself is the danger. This bit reminds me of Gringot's from Harry Potter, in which the treasure taken by potential thieves is cursed in unique ways that keep it safe. There's definitely no shortage of mimics in the known world. So what to do with the vanilla mimic? Well, I think it's easy to overlook the shapechanger ability as simply another one of it's features, but when you consider all of it's abilities together, a mimic can be a terrifying foe. They are slow, true, and vulnerable, but they also latch onto you, and don't let go easily. Mimics also don't really need to move fast when they can just disguise themselves as whatever they want. The video game Prey, which is a sci-fi survival horror fps, features mimics primarily as a main enemy. In Prey, mimics are small, fast, black four legged creatures which scuttle around and kill by shoving their tentacles down the throat. These mimics are speedy, but rely on hit and run tactics, by attacking and then scurrying away, then disguising themselves as an object in a room. These mimics are devious, and will turn into the most tempting objects when you least expect it. In one scene, a mimic turns itself into a medkit, a brilliant reversal of turning into a sword, instead mimicking the one thing the player needs to gain health, and forcing them into another battle. I highly recommend watching play-throughs of Prey if you want to up your mimic game.
Invasion of the Shapeshifters!
Mimics in 5e possess a shapeshift ability that is pretty much unique to them, in the sense of how they use it. Mimics are true shapeshifters, with the ability to turn into basically any object, although I would rule that the object has to be within it's size boundaries (medium, large, etc) otherwise there's no point to having a giant mimic. Because I could see some potential confusion here, let's go over how the shapeshifting ability functions. Obviously mimics are creatures of low Intelligence, and thus retain little in the sense of memorization, so how do they know what to transform into? Well, I personally would rule that a mimic can transform into anything it has seen, and has the instinct to know when to use what object form. After all, creatures like dolphins and rats are adept at memorization of patterns and certain colors, so it's not unreasonable that these magical monstrosities don't have significant instincts to pull it off. After all, mimics probably wouldn't survive very long if their escape reaction in a crowded town square was to turn into a rubber duck on the spot. All joking aside, it does bring up a good point: are mimics predators, or prey? Both types of creatures in nature can possess some form of camouflage or disguise. Many insects in nature have some way of blending in with their surroundings, or a bright color pattern that warns predators that they are poisonous (although a lot of predators go for it anyway. Darn predators). Likewise, many hunter creatures have an innocent appearance or camouflage that is betrayed by a deadly attack, such as a venus fly trap. As such, I would rule that mimics are pretty obviously predators, for one, because it's more exciting, but also because of their tactics. Why would prey be so slow and vulnerable and live so long, and possess the ability to stick itself to a predator? After all, prey are usually trying to escape their predator, not stick to it. As such, a mimics usually MO is to get as close as possible with it's movement speed, sticking to the shadows (Darkvision 60 ft!) and shapeshifting when it must. Since the stat block doesn't specify that a mimic can't move in object form, I would rule that it still can, although it's movement may be varied. For example, if it turns into a wine bottle, it might have to roll around. If it turns into a box or a ball, it might have to hop, causing a bit of noise (maybe an eerie squeaking sound if it's a rubber ball.... hmmmm). In addition, the mimics statistics are the same in each form. Thus the object is mostly appearance, and serves as the mimics shell in which to sneak around in. This could be a giveaway in which an object that might normally break or behave differently stays entirely intact or moves in a strange way. Going back to the wine bottle example, perhaps it rolls off a high table without breaking, or maybe a sword in a pool of acid is completely untarnished (immunity to acid damage, remember?). The point overall is, mimics know how to use their shapeshifted forms to their advantage, and take all opportunities in their area to do so. Some examples of good mimic lairs are a library, where there are plenty of books to turn into, a bar or wine cellar, where the bottles literally fly off the shelves at unsuspecting party members, a potions lab, and really any location with a lot of small objects and hiding places for the mimic. The mimic knows to hide in places like this, as it sees plenty of potential targets, and makes a sort of lair out of them. It's not unreasonable to call mimics pack hunters, and a group of these creatures in an abandoned library or factory would be a terrifying encounter indeed!
Running a Mimic
We've already looked extensively at mimic behavior, as well as some sample ideas and encounters, but let's now tie it all together and look at a mimic's tactics. The mimic in 5e has the standard ambusher profile, with a little help from it's shapeshifting ability. High Strength and Constitution, lower AC but decent hit points for level 2, and a pseudopod and bite attack. With these factors, a mimic's goal is to sneak up on you, then grab and sink into you with it's acid bite attack. It latches on, and doesn't retreat easily. The Monster Manual describes mimics as evolved creatures, which, as we've already seen, means they can learn and adapt, and will do so over time. This explains why a mimic knows what to turn in to to attract steady sources of prey. However, this also means that they have a decent amount of cunning in their package, at least enough to know when to run. Mimic's also have above average stealth on top of their dex. So, putting it all together:
- Mimics have high strength and a decent bite attack, although they lack a sufficient multiattack. However, their per-round damage combined with their grappler feat, and their adhesive feature make them formidable in melee.
- Mimics are slow, and somewhat weak at level 2, with only a 12 in AC. They are however immune to acid damage.
- Mimics have above average stealth, and the shapechanger ability, which makes it easier for them to get in close. They also have the adhesive feature, which means once a player has grabbed on, it's tough to let go.
So how does a mimic start combat? Well, it starts in it's polymorphed form if it can help it. The mimics moving speed is only 15 feet, and really serves more purpose out of combat as a way of getting around. If the players don't take the bait and grab it, the mimic attempts to sneak up on them (+5 stealth), and makes a surprise attack. I would rule that a mimic that attacks in object form with a melee attack can choose to adhere to a creature with that attack, as long as it stays in that form. On that subject, a mimic never really needs to go back to it's true form in combat. It's statistics are the same in each form, and it gains nothing by turning back. It seems like the true form is kind of up to the DM, although all illustrations seem to agree that mimics have some kind of oozy purple body, rows of yellow teeth in a gaping mouth, and orange eyes somewhere on it. Beyond this, there's really no specifications, and those factors could be easily changed (although I would recommend keeping a mouth on it and some kind of pseudopod to match the statblock). The body isn't really important, but it does make an interesting reveal for that jump scare moment. What mimics can turn into is really what often makes them interesting, especially when that thing is unexpected. As I mentioned earlier, many new players don't have experience with the dungeon crawl mimic, and so even the classic chest trick is worth a go once in a while. I find it more fun to fake them out, scaring them with a mimic initially, and introducing the threat, but then leaving the rest of the dungeon alone for a time. After all, people and pc's alike are afraid of what they can't see, so just the threat that every object they see just might be a mimic will keep them on their toes and asking "what's in this room?" At this moment, I like to leave a big obvious chest in the middle of the room, making it perfectly normal, just to psyche my players out, and then drop a mimic in the door exiting the room. A mimic's form is extremely versatile, only bound by your imagination, so have fun with it! Now, the jumpscare concept only works so many times, so what's better than one mimic but two! After all, it's conceivable that a swarm of mimics would come together to hunt and blanket an area. Like I mentioned before, areas with plenty of reach, good hiding spots, and objects to turn into make fine spaces for a swarm of mimics. Think about the implications in combat! Picture, a swarm of books flying off the shelves and sticking to the paladin's plate armor as he swings at them, only to discover that they stick to his sword too! The purple goo begins to envelop him, lashing out with bites and pseudopods, causing a scene almost like Mr Incredible's capture with the black blobs in The Incredibles. Another fun twist is to make the mimics bigger. Although the monster manual doesn't specify, I would rule that a mimic can only turn into an object the same size as it's true form or smaller. So if it's medium, only something about the size of a chair or small table, even a book or a lantern. This makes larger mimics like the giant mimic and the hoard mimic much more engaging. It's one thing to be attacked by a little goo blob with fangs, it's another entirely for a whole bookshelf to come to life and smack down on them. The hoard mimic is my personal favorite of these, because players may be expecting traps going into the treasure room, but they'll never expect the treasure itself to come to life and attack! This is an especially scary variant in any enclosed space, like the Gringot's vault I mentioned before. In older editions of D&D there was even a House Mimic, a gargantuan mimic that could imitate objects of enormous size, and trap victims within itself. This would be an amazing once-off trick to pull on your players to really make them never underestimate mimics again. Say there's a house that always seems to shift strangely, with furniture changing around and even whole rooms moving around each other at times. The players would be sent to investigate, only realizing once they're in that they've been trapped inside of a giant mimic house! Even better to populate the house with objects inside that are actual mimics! If your players didn't hate you before, they will now. And of course, any mimic in combat will flee once it's taken significant damage, reducing it to half or fewer, or whenever it sees that it won't be able to grapple or inflict enough damage on it's target. Mimics don't really "flee" with a movement speed of 15 feet, and a dashing speed of 30 feet, and instead try to get as far away as fast as possible, then shapeshift into a different object until the threat leaves.
In conclusion, the mimic, despite it's under-usage, is still by far one of the most interesting low level creatures out there. It's shapeshifting ability is so much fun to play around with, and is well worth the reveal to your players. Mimics are one of the most nuanced and customizable monsters out there, so have fun using and reusing them in different ways. Thanks for reading
Interesting; I might have to consider how to incorporate one into my campaign. So, question I have: where are these most commonly found? Abandoned dungeons and keeps?
Interesting; I might have to consider how to incorporate one into my campaign. So, question I have: where are these most commonly found? Abandoned dungeons and keeps?
Wherever you want to put them! It just depends on the scenario and the setting. Like I said, mimics are hunters, and evolved creatures, so they hunt in areas with good hiding spaces and areas with plenty of potential "targets" which to them are objects to shapeshift in to. Abandoned factories, libraries, and dungeons, or even occupied dungeons work. As long as there's not a major threat to their hunting patterns. Mimics can shapeshift, and have high stealth, so they're extremely good at hiding. They haven't survived this long because they've gotten caught by dungeon guards. Anywhere old with plenty of hiding spots for the most part. Knowing the style of the campaign helps, but these can really be put anywhere, even a crowded bar! A mimic infestation can happen anywhere! In the bar example, they might be killing patrons at the inn by night, and hiding by day as bottles and other small items.
The wraith's bone sunk, now truly lifeless, to the stone ground as Theron sheathed his longsword. "Well," he remarked, "that went better than I expected."
The halfling rogue scoffed, lying on the stone floor near a bed. "Easy for you to say," she said dusting herself off. "I feel like I've been trampled by a stampede of hill giants. Although no worse than that one hangover in Durnan's place. I don't guess you have any healing left in you Jeska?" she said gesturing to the kobold, huddled behind a bed.
"Y-y-yes," the little dragon stammered. "But I REALLY don't like undead. And we've already had to fight a pack of ghouls and a wraith! The Spell Forge better be around the corner!" the kobold made her way over to the rogue, and muttered an incantation while waving her hands over the withered halfling's abdomen, restoring life to the frail body. "There," Jeska said. "But that's all you're getting!" she harumphed and padded off to the doorway. "Now can someone please open this?"
"Come now Jeska," said the half elf wizard in a high voice, bent over his staff. "There's no need to hurry through! This is a place of magic thousands of years old! I mean, just think of all the secrets locked up in here, just waiting to be discovered! Now if I can just get through the door..." he trailed off, examining it. "I don't see any runes, but it does look ancient, and made of iron no less! Although it's a bit worn and burnt-" he was cut off as Theron smashed through the door with the hilt of his blade, knocking it clean off the hinges.
"Well now!" the wizard said. "I suppose the element of surprise is... is.."
He looked stunned, at the room before him. Tattered walls and burnt floors, scattered with debris and ancient blood. The room appeared to be extremely ancient, with several dwarvish carvings matched alongside magical runes on the sections of wall not desecrated. In the middle of the room sat an ornate brazier, seemingly unharmed by whatever had happened to the rest of the room. An arcane fire blazed atop it, casting eerie shadows on the room, and illuminating a strange shape toward the back.
A green orb, with four stalks shooting off of it, suspended seemingly by magic in the air. As it drew closer, a large, eerie eye framed in the middle of it's face over a fanged mouth was revealed. "Name yourselves, and declare you business!" boomed a voice in their heads, seemingly from the strange floating creature.
"My name is Jeska!" the little kobold declared, "And I'm gonna give YOU the business if you don't-"
"Alright, that's enough," said Theron putting a hand on her shoulder. "Look, we don't want trouble," he said. "My name is Theron, and we're here for the Spell Forge, which I take to be this room."
The creature eyed them inquisitively, casting it's gaze seemingly on the whole room at once. "I am the guardian of this place. I am bound to protect this chamber, and all that lies in it. Trespassers are forbidden! I must demand that you leave the way you came. I shall let you go unharmed if you do."
The wizard stumbled forward, taking place behind Theron. "I don't think this is a good idea," He whispered. "This thing was put here for a reason. Maybe we should do as it asks.."
Theron shook his head, then turned to address the floating Spectator. "If you wish us to leave, I'm sad to report that we can't. We were sent here on a mission, and frankly, there may be forces at play here that you don't understand. Please let us pass, we promise not to harm your domain."
The spectator huffed, and turned aside, almost thoughtfully. "Well that is unfortunate," it echoed in a deep voice, it's eyes beginning to glow. "I have been charged with guarding this domain, and for many years I have done so."
You have been issued warnings," it said as the door behind them slammed. "And have not heeded. Prepare for you banishment!" the creature yelled as it loosed a beam of dark energy from it's eye, twinned by another ray that shot at Theron, leaving him stunned and disoriented. The kobold cleric pulled her mace and dashed forward at the orb, yelling a high pitched battle cry, as the rogue's crossbow bolt flew past her head, making a gash in one of the eye stalks. The wizard's hands crackled with lightning as he paced toward the Spectator, grinning.
"You hide knowledge, instead of making use of it," he said, hands sparking with power. "But I'm willing to share a little."
Spectators are cousins to beholders, far less powerful, but still possessing the classic floating eye and accompanying eye stalks. They are summoned by a ritual that, upon completion, binds them to a location or service for 101 years, under their summoner. Spectators during this period are completely loyal to the summoner, and guard the item or location from all but their master with fierce determination. The flavor text also mentions that a spectator can be freed if it has fulfilled the time of service (although with the amount of adventurers pillaging around these days it's unlikely for these guys to survive long). With a bit of backstory in mind, let's take a look at how to roleplay these quirky beholderkin, then move on to their defense and combat tactics.
Ancient Guardians
Spectators are creature's of another plane, aberrations summoned to our word by a ritual involving four beholder eyestalks. The ritual consumes these stalks, and, appropriately, spectators have four additional eyes. Whoever completes the ritual becomes the spectator's master, and can choose to bind it to a location or an item for it's time of servitude. Generally this means that a spectator guards a chamber or certain magical location in a ruin like the one in Lost Mine of Phandelver, although a spectator bound to an item technically has the freedom to go wherever the item goes as part of it's contract. Whatever the case may be, a spectator doesn't part from the item, and furthermore, doesn't allow anyone other than it's master to go near it or enter the location it's guarding. This is pretty much the standard write up for conflict between adventurers and spectators, although there are plenty of ways to make it more interesting. For example, the item or location may be subject to change, or planar shifting, causing more spectators to appear, or trapping the spectator eternally, driving it mad. The text says that, despite a spectator's lawful neutral alignment, it despises other spectators, and seeks to destroy them on sight, something it shares with it's beholder cousins. This is an interesting twist, and can provide for some potential fun encounters if two spectator's territories overlap, or if one is summoned and is confronted by another. Spectators are interesting when compared to Beholders, as they tend to be more maniacal and devious, even unpredictable in their paranoia. However, spectators maintain a Lawful Neutral alignment (I've always felt that beholders, especially ones like the Xanathar, felt more chaotic than lawful, but maybe that's just me), and they stick to it! It's difficult not to when they're bound to a contract, but it is interesting how different the two really are. Spectators are certainly creatures bound by law and rules, not their own scheming or plans, while beholders are mad geniuses that would never let another creature rule them or tell them what to do. An interesting hook here might be for a beholder to invade spectator domains, convincing them to abandon their posts and serve it. This beholder might receive some pushback, depending on your ruling, but a creature as intelligent as it can surely come up with a plan on to trick or convince these beings to serve it instead (for more beholder advice, I recommend Volo's guide to monsters, as well as James Haeck's article How to Play a Beholder like a Paranoid Mastermind). On that note, is there really any way to convince a spectator to abandon it's duty? I mean, after all, they seem pretty honor bound to do it, and that 101-year time stamp doesn't hurt either! However, these are CR 3 monsters, and with no real resistance to being charmed and above average mental scores at best, I would say there are plenty of ways to distract, convince, and confuse spectators. Their natural state is to protect the object or location their master has ordered them to, but that can be changed. What it would be changed to is the interesting part. You see, spectators are very much creatures of work and habit. Without a job to do or a task to complete, they really are a shell of their true selves. They might turn to madness, seeking out magic items and locations with a crazed fascination, or even stalking (hehe) and seeking out magical creatures. The flavor text mentions that 101 years spent, generally, alone can have some weird effects on these creature's minds, and without even a job to do, they go even more mad. This could be a possible way beholders are created, an adult spectator that seeks out a way to perform the ritual again, but this time adding the additional eye stalks to itself, seeking the power beholder's possess, with a little bit of the madness already. That could be a fun plot hook for a group of adventurers, especially low level ones, tasked with stopping a spectator gone rogue from becoming a beholder.
Alien Minds
Spectators are aberrations, creatures that defy normal standards of biology, physics, and even time and space. As such, any spectator your player encounter on the material plane will be a visitor, a creature bound here by duty, but a visitor nonetheless. An alien, if you will. And despite being visitors, Spectators still have to work the mother of all night shifts, all in the same spot. The flavor text mentions that, due to the nature of their duty, many spectators develop quirks and oddities about their personalities. After all, 101 years spent alone probably produces some small glimmer of madness in any spectator's mind, despite still serving it's time. Being lawful neutral, spectators have a compulsion to their duty, and to fulfill it, but this feels more like a magical compulsion produced by a ritual rather than spectators just being natural servants (if so, could we maybe write that into demonic summoning rituals as well? cause those guys make terrible employees!). A spectator summoned to guard a room might develop multiple personalities by talking to itself, perhaps referring to itself in the third person! The flavor text also likens spectators to beholders in that they view themselves as the epitome of their kind, making them haughty and giving this sort of "holier-than-thou" feel to spectators, which makes for some fun roleplay with the players. Most spectators will probably come across as respectful, if not a little bit stern, and very blunt in regards to their duties. The spectator probably won't engage the players in prolonged conversation, although a crazed one might (After all, it's got no one to talk to for 101 years! Cut the thing a break!). Imagine how fun conversation with a mad spectator, albeit one still bound to guard it's location, would be! For a bit of extra comedy, I'd roleplay it like a disgruntled employee, a begrudging worker bound for a 101 year shift, who does their job out of compulsion, but still longs for freedom. A potential plot hook could be for the players to free the spectator, or to get rid of its master somehow. One thing that makes spectators interesting so often is what they are guarding, or why. Especially if it's master is dead or missing! That leaves all sorts of questions open to the party, especially as to the purpose of the object or chamber it's guarding. The object could seem meaningless, and the party may have to interrogate or investigate with the spectator to learn command words or ways to unlock the object. The only limit here is what your able to dream up for the spectator to guard.
Fighting like a Sentinel
Spectators are special in terms of combat, in that, 90% of the time, they don't get to choose their battle field, and they will usually fight to the death, unless instructed otherwise. After all, they've got a job to do! So let's break down what makes spectators interesting, and how they handle combat.
The Spectator as presented has across the board slightly above average stats, with an 8 in strength (cause it's a floating ball), but nothing too special otherwise. Spectators have an armor class of 14, about average for a level 3 monster, and decent hp to back it up. Spectators also have very high perception, as a creature with an enormous eyeball should, and telepathy out to 120 feet. Where the spectator really shines is in it's combat actions. It has 4 eye rays, of which it can fire up to two on a turn, two of which affect Wisdom, and two of which affect Constitution (this is a pretty good split, as most in the party are bound to have one or the other dumped). It also has the interesting Spell Reflection ability, which I'll cover in a minute. Let's see how it all fits together.
First of all, know that a spectator is most likely confined to one or two rooms. This is important, as most monsters either get to choose or at least leave their battlefield. However, a spectator knows it's territory well, and a smart (as any wizard capable of creating a spectator should be!) summoner will give it plenty of room and strategic advantage to work with. After all, a spectator isn't much use if it's confined to a 20x20 foot room. What does strategic advantage look like? A height advantage isn't bad to start with. A spectator can hover, but a ledge and maybe some pillars for half cover above the rest of the room help. A buffer magic item, that gives it better defense or chance to save on spells (you can choose or homebrew here) also wouldn't be bad. Traps are also extremely useful in a room with spectators, as anyone looking to hire a guard for a hundred years is likely taking some other steps to secure his stuff as well. The advantage for the spectator here is that it hovers, so pit traps and any traps activated by walking over it can simply glide above. Beyond that, the most important advantage you can give is knowing how to play a spectator in combat, so now let's move on to it's specific actions.
The Spectators Eye Ray actions are the star of the show so I'll cover that first. Bite is a plus one to hit and does minimal damage, and isn't worth even considering unless the target is already in melee and the eye rays aren't working. The Eye rays have a range out to 90 feet, and the spectator can move 30, so the room preferably has plenty of space for it to move in already. It wants to avoid melee as much as possible, because of it's weak defense and mediocre bite attack. The eye rays can be used two at a time, targeting up to two creatures, although I don't see why you couldn't target one creature twice. As I mentioned before, it has two rays that affect Constitution, and two that affect Wisdom, both scores that one member of the party at least is bound to have low. And at third level, their saves won't be all that high anyway. The constitution rays are a paralyzing ray, and a wounding ray, which, by the name, is the only one that does real damage. The paralyzing ray is a good combo attack, but you may need to sit on it until the spectator's second turn, which I'll explain in a minute. The other two rays are confusion and fear. Confusion can force a target to attack another nearby creature, and fear, well, makes them frightened. So let's take a look at some combos. It's generally best to mix and match with the ability score rays, targeting a low con creature, and a low wisdom creature. A good combo to try right at the beginning of combat is the confusion ray on a low wisdom fighter or barbarian, and then the paralyzing ray on a spellcaster, most likely a sorcerer or wizard. If it pays off, you can potentially force an attack on the wizard by the brute fighter, then scoring a crit because of paralyzed. Even if not, these rays will discombobulate the battlefield, and opens up a good attack for wounding ray, and then either another go with the first two rays, or a use of the fear ray. Fear is useful especially when the melee fighter is getting in too close for comfort (within 30 feet or more), and needs to be sent back to his place. As far as the annoying party spellcasters go, spectators have the quite fun Spell Reflect ability. Spell Reflect basically states that any time the spectator saves against a spell or a spell misses it, it can redirect the spell, forcing another creature to make the save or take the attack roll. This is a really fun ability, and shouldn't be neglected just because it's defensive. fire bolt coming you way? Throw it back at 'em! Pesky wizards need to learn not to mess with other people's stuff! As covered above, the vanilla spectator isn't that powerful against a party of level 3 or higher, but is a great boss for a level one or two party. After all, combat is not about killing your players, but adjusting the encounter so that everyone gets the most out of it (CR is really a suggestion, and a rough one at that). As I mentioned, a spectator doesn't flee combat, and fights to the death, but I suppose there are ways to bargain with it if it was completely overpowered by your players.
Spectators, although they may be the redheaded step-cousins to beholders, are still worth a play through once in a while, and are plenty of fun for a CR 3 monster. Enjoy, and also check out the other articles on this thread for more tips and tactics. Coming soon will be an article on Ghosts and the Mummy Lord. Take care!
The Mummy Lord article will be releasing soon. Beyond that I have a few other ideas but please let me know anything you all would like to see in upcoming articles and series. Npc's, monsters, creatures from any source. Thanks!
What about gnolls? They will be raiding a tabaxi village in my campaign soon.
Sure! I'll give it a go. Gnolls definitely have an established place in D&D lore, and a very established backstory. It'll be interesting but I'll get working on it soon!
How to Play a Mummy Lord like a God of the Ancient Desert
The wizard archeologist drew closer to the tomb door, eyeing the inscription on the wall. His rogue companion stood by readily, glancing about nervously as if expecting the shadows to jump out and grab him. "The tomb of Seknet, god of the sands and storms," the wizard read aloud, tracing the words with his fingers.
"Jeez," the rogue muttered. "They really worshiped these guys as gods? He's dead right in there," he said pointing at the tomb door.
"Well, for one thing, I wouldn't be too sure about the dead part," the archeologist said, as he ran his hands over the door, searching for a point of access. "Additionally, the Hisaqq people believed in death merely as a stepping off point. The bodies of those honored were preserved in linen wrappings, sometimes marked with magical runes or placed with their most treasured belongings to take into the afterlife." he grunted, pushing against the door. "Steren, give me a hand with this," he gestured to their paladin escort, who stood, hand on his axe by the entry hall.
Steren stepped over and placed his hands over the door. "Very well," he said "But I'm not too keen on discovering what's on the other side of this thing."
The wizard sighed, and placed his hands by Sterens's. "Just push alright? On three, one... two.... THREE!" the two shoved, and the door gave, the stone slab slowly sliding open. Steren steadied Petrin, the archeologist as he almost fell over, carried by his momentum. "You alright there?" he asked. Petrin brushed the sand off his clothes, and gestured into the dungeon pass. "Fine. Shall we?"
Steren shrugged, and walked forward, his axe glowing to illuminate the chamber. Petrin raised an eyebrow at the rogue, who scoffed, but soon followed in. Inside was an enormous stone chamber, circular in shape, with walls covered in detailed paintings and hieroglyphics, depicting gods and mortals and animal headed creatures fighting brutally. In the center portrait was a depiction of a man, a pharaoh, with the gods on his left and the animal headed creatures on his right, with hands glowing white with energy. "Well well well," the rogue said, running his hands through his sandy hair. "Mr Pharaoh here certainly had a very high opinion of himself," gesturing to the middle portrait.
Steren stood, gazing at the display before him. "Most men in power, especially of his status do. Not too keen on meeting him, at any rate. Hopefully that bit about the afterlife didn't apply this time. What's the next step, Petrin?"
Petrin gazed at the floor, and began wiping away sand, revealing carved stone underneath, with hieroglyphs spiraling all around the room. "The next step, I believe," he said slowly, "is to utter the incantation, which will hopefully reveal the tomb." he began reading from his translation book, studying the floor carefully as he went.
"Wonderful," the rogue said with a roll of his eye, as he slouched in the sand. "Let's just grab the heart and get out of here, yeah?"
The floor began to shake and rumble as soon as he spoke, with Petrin finishing the final command word. The middle of the floor rumbled, and opened. Sand tumbled down into the opening, as a sarcophagus rose into the middle of the room. The coffin was ornately decorated in a similar fashion as the walls, but with gold and silver trimmings, and precious stones inlaid about it's rim. The face, presumably of the pharaoh Seknet, was molded where the corpses' face would be.
"That was... dramatic," said Steren, staring wide-eyed at the coffin. Petrin began to circle the box, searching for more runes or points of access. his hands began to glow as attempted to cast a divination spell on the tomb. He stopped short as the magic on his hands fizzled out, ending the spell. "What in the-'' he stopped as the sarcophagus burst open with an explosion of sand, and the sands in the room began to swirl in a whirlwind. A body lifted out of the tomb, a mummy wrapped in fine linens and golden armor. It raised its hands, and the sands began to swirl more violently, knocking the trio to their feet.
"YOU DISTURB MY REST!" the mummy lord bellowed, his voice echoing around the room seemingly from everywhere at once. The sands glowed with a golden energy as Seknet's eyes did. "I SHALL NOT LET MORTALS INTERFERE IN THE BUSINESS OF THE GODS, IN MY DIVINE WILL!!!" he roared as the room began to fill with more sand. Steren attempted to raise his glowing axe, but the mummy lord turned his dreadful gaze on the paladin, causing him to drop his weapon and cower on his knees, almost at instinct. Gold light exploded from the lord's chest, streaking towards the trio and pulling the life essence from their bodies. "THE DESERT BELONGS TO ME!" the Lord said, swirling the sands with the waving of his arms. "AND YOU SHALL BOW DOWN, OR FACE THE MIGHT OF A TRUE GOD!"
Mummy Lords are one of the most powerful creatures of their type in the Monster Manual, alongside the vampire warrior and spellcaster, and approaching the level of the Lich and the Death Knight, which I've already covered (see page 2 of this thread). Mummies and Mummy Lord's in DnD are unique in their creation based largely on cultural views of death and the afterlife, largely drawn (obviously) from Egyptian culture. However, you don't need to be an archeologist or even a historian to run a mummy lord, thankfully, but I'm also here to help with any backstory or roleplay issues you may have with these guys. As far as tactics go, mummy lords are true gods of the desert, possessing similar traits to the vanilla mummy, with plentiful additions, including magic resistance, high level spellcasting, and (in my opinion), some of the most fun and unique legendary actions in the game. So without further ado, let's unearth this tomb to uncover the secrets of the mummy lord!
Pharaohs from Times Past
Before I get too into the tactics and roleplay, I want to give a rundown of how mummies function in DnD, with a little bit of an Egyptian history lesson to give some context and explanation for their tactics. You might be tempted to skip this section, and of course you can read whatever you want, but I think this will provide some clarity as to how mummies function, give you some necessary backstory elements, and provide a good read and grasp of the culture that birthed mummies.
Mummies, especially those in Egyptian culture, were traditionally bodies preserved with chemicals, then wrapped with linens to cover and enhance the embalming process. The mummies in D&D are most obviously based on Egyptian mummies, especially in the way their flavor text describes. The Egyptian culture believed that death was merely a stepping-off point for the afterlife, and how you were prepared for death was thus very important. They would make sure the bodies were well-preserved for years in the afterlife, and would sometimes go as far to decorate or embalm them in special ways, such as inscribing hieroglyphics or other art on their linens. Some mummies were buried with prized possessions or other artifacts with the thought that they could carry them into the afterlife. The embalming process was, in the long term, supposed to prevent the body from rotting greatly, and those in charge of the process even went so far as to pickle the organs of the person they were embalming. Mummies in D&D are created when a dark priest (like a Death Cleric) or evil wizard imbues one of the embalmed corpses with necromantic energy, causing it to rise as an undead guardian under their control. The flavor text says that a mummy will "rest" staying around the area it was brought to undeath in, unless that area or an artifact in the area is disturbed. In D&D, the process of mummification seems more like a punishment, a seal that the person cursed as a mummy will never know true rest, even in death. The mummy's curse can be ended, in certain circumstances, although some are more difficult than others. Mummies make for fascinating backstory, and the curse that keeps them in undeath can be a great plot hook for adventurers to undo. Perhaps a desert explorer who crossed the wrong tomb at the wrong time hires the party to help him undo the curse or destroy the mummies that now seek to kill him. Undoing the curse can be a long process, and gives plenty of ideas for story and dungeons the players might have to delve to find an item or steal one. Mummies themselves are such interesting creatures in 5e, especially among undead, since they do have the rare ability to speak, which not many undead possess. As described in the flavor text, a mummy could be a rare repository of knowledge that the players could seek out, not necessarily just another obstacle in their way. Using a mummy as an NPC this way could be very interesting in a campaign, and would definitely serve to provoke some more interesting roleplay interactions. In roleplay, all mummies should feel as ancient as their bones, creatures cursed to be forever in between death and life. If the players can get one to talk, it's probably angry, and difficult to reason with, but might parley if they offer to help it.
The mummy Lord, on the other hand, is in a different league altogether. A mummy lord is an undead boss, created from the shriveled body of an ancient king or pharaoh in life, who returns in undeath by a similar ritual to the mummy, only enhanced. The body of a mummy lord, being that of a pharaoh or other ancient king, is adorned more conspicuously than that of a mummy. It's linens may be finer, more ornately decorated, and it's body is likely still coated in whatever armor or robes it wore around the time of it's death. The ritual required to raise a mummified body to that of a mummy lord takes on a darker form. Whatever undead priest or servant of the dark gods who undergoes the ritual must remove the shriveled heart from the mummy lord's body, preserving it in a limestone jar marked with hieroglyphics and symbols of power. Once the ritual is complete, this body rises as a Mummy Lord, an undead being far more capable and intelligent than a mummy, and with a temper to boot. Conclusion, you do not want to be the guy who woke Lord Pharaoh Ramses III from his eternal map.
Wrath of the Pharaoh
A Mummy Lord is a boss undead on the level of a vampire spellcaster or warrior, death tyrant, and approaching the CR of a Lich and death knight, which we've already covered (personally, it seems like the undeads are hogging all the high-CR boss monsters. Come on guys, spread the love around a little!). With that profile, the mummy lord has a big reputation, and a statblock to match, as we'll see in a minute. However, convincing your players that the mummy lord is a being on its way to godhood is more than just casting a 4th level guiding bolt at them (although that helps). The mummy lord shows its power in its presence. As demonstrated already, a mummy lord is an ancient being, not just an embalmed body, but the preserved legacy of an ancient king, returned to display its wrath and power once more. Mummy lords are summoned by a slightly more powerful ritual, which makes them stronger, badder, and more dangerous than the average mummy. That comes with an attitude, and 4000 years spent in a coffin doesn't help 'em either! At first glance, you need to primarily figure out what your mummy lord has returned to do, or who helped it return. It may be that it has been animated for some time, and is locked away in a dungeon deep beneath a desert waiting for its rest to be disturbed. It also may be that there is a death cult or dark god trying to raise a mummy lord for their own purposes. Whichever the case, I think it helps to have a bit of backstory to give your mummy lord some, well, backbone. This will help you develop the mummy lord as a creature with ambitions, desires, and goals, keys to making any good villain, and showing that it's not just another undead for your paladin to smack down on. A mummy lord's primary goal may vary depend on who raised it, but know that it still retains personality from its life as a pharaoh (or whatever role it served) for the most part. It's primarily used to being served, even in mortal life, having pretty much everyone around it bow to its every whim. In Egyptain culture, the pharaohs were actually thought to be gods, or at the very least, representatives of them. With a mummy lord as a former pharaoh, play into that aspect of it being very haughty and high and mighty around mortals. This overlord attitude still fuels the lord's ambition even more. If it's goal in returning is to complete a task or search out an item, it follows that goal with tenacity and ferocious might. It doesn't stop throwing minions or it's own might at a problem until it is destroyed. In that way, a mummy lord is very committed. Similar to what we talked about in the death knight article, a mummy lord is also extremely wrathful. After all, how would you feel if you returned to power after thousands of years only to find your kingdom is reduced to ashes and your followers are dead? A mummy lord sees all mortals as completely beneath it as a result, and gives no time or thought to their needs. Even if a cult raised it or seeks it's patronage, a mummy lord only accepts worship and total subservience from those who would follow it. It's the boss, and darn it, the pesky mortals better bow down, or else. Unlike the death knight, a mummy lord is always the top of the food chain, at least in its own view. The fact that it believes its a god and thus totally immortal is only reinforced by its rejuvenation feature. In all circumstances, the mummy lord is an angry boss. It's existence is fueled by rage and the sheer power it wields, and those two combined is a terrifying experience for any mortal in it's way.
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Mummy Lord Interaction
Many high level undead present a terrifying presence wherever they go, and the Mummy Lord is no exception. A mummy lord has power, servants (mummies hanging around, zombies or other low level undead don't really fit the bill), and probably a great deal of wealth depending on where you put it. They've got power, and they're not afraid to flaunt it, and use it when necessary. A mummy lord's first impression of your party is most likely unimpressed. It is simply disconnected from the idea that any mortal is strong enough or great enough to beat it, or even challenge it. I'll talk about how this affects tactics in a minute, but know that your average (if you can call it that) mummy lord is not afraid of your party. It's bearing and nature as an ancient god causes it to speak in a haughty tone, arrogant and harsh, talking down to all who challenge it, and issuing commands to everyone it sees. Every sentence is an order, every reprimand, a death sentence. The mummy lord does not tolerate the foolishness of mortals, nor their incompetence. It has no moral issue with dealing out death as it sees fit, as it does believe itself to be final judge, jury, and executioner. It's attention and temporary mercy might be bought with frequent gifts and worship as well as faithful service and devotion to its cause. A mummy lord that seeks to rebuild its empire and promote its power might adorn servants who perform faithfully with extravagant wear such as gold and precious stones. As a being with a repository of knowledge lasting thousands of years, the mummy lord knows any caches or ancient sites where wealth or riches from its former empire might be stored, and seeks to restore the power of its empire in this way, even if wealth might be meaningless to it. The mummy lord's goal is still most likely to restore itself and its empire or seat of power to its former glory. However, these guys do tend to brag a bit. Remember that while its Wisdom and Charisma scores are quite high, the mummy Lord only has an 11 in intelligence, certainly more than a regular mummy, but not exactly what you think of for king-boss material. So its shrewd, with a lot of presence, and has a very intimidating persona, but it's not exactly the most tactical or patient when it comes to mortal affairs. It's still able to make mistakes, and bad judgements, and its flaw is that it refuses to see any other kind of reason. Characters can exploit this and use the mummy lord's ego and arrogance to their advantage, especially in making it underestimate them. And, once again, it only has an intelligence 11, so it can be tricked and confused and outmaneuvered. However, try too hard to sweet-talk the pharaoh, and you might find a swarm of locusts or the mummy's curse coming down on you like a flash of lightning in the desert.
Divine Destruction
A Mummy Lord, as we've discussed, is a being of supreme power, a god in it's own right, that lords its power over others, using it to submit mortals to its will. A Mummy Lord has some strong features already at first glance. It's an 11th level Cleric (the Monster Manual says 10th level, but Clerics don't gain a 6th level spell slot until level 11), it has, as I've already said, some of the most fun legendary actions in the game, a straight-up immunity to physical damage, as well as necrotic, and on top of that, a resistance to magical effects. It also has the rejuvenation feature because of the magical nature of it's heart, so you can't even kill the dang thing without some hefty fire damage. Conclusion? The mummy lord is not at all intimidated at first glance at your party. It believes itself to be the greatest of all beings, even in undeath, and lords that power over them. It takes a lot to frighten a mummy lord, or even to make it consider mortals a worthy threat. However, the mummy lord does have one fear that it shares with the vanilla mummy, and that fear is fire damage, in high quantities and in steady streams. The mummy lord may be a boss, but it is a glass cannon, perhaps the glassiest glass cannon for it's level. Remember that it does have an AC 17, decent for the level, but a staggeringly low 97 hp! Added to it's vulnerability to fire damage, the mummy lord requires a careful play style and some intelligent DM work to make all these features work together. And while it does have something to fear from pc's like paladins and wild fire druids, it also has the necessary toolkit to remove these divine pests from it's presence. It may have a regular 17 AC, but the mummy lord is equipped with a powerful legendary action toolkit that allows it to attack, blind, stun, and even negate healing in it's foes. It has the spellcaster starter toolkit to go toe-to-toe with some frontliners, and it's dreadful glare and rotting fist are nothing to sneeze at. Let's take a look at those spells first:
-For cantrips the mummy lord has [Tooltip Not Found] (only worthwhile to make it sound scarier or create another sensory effect to enforce it's presence), and sacred flame (meh).
-At first level the mummy lord has 4 slots with which to cast command, a Wisdom save with a charming effect, guiding bolt, a spell with solid damage for it's level that can be upcast (more on that in a minute), and shield of faith, a bonus action concentration spell that grants a temporary AC bonus.
-At second level we have hold person, which I've covered in a few articles now, a Wisdom saving throw spell that can also be upcast, silence, a concentration spell useful against verbal spellcasting (bards), and spiritual weapon, a bonus action damage spell.
-At third level the mummy lord can cast animate dead, fun, but not really combat applicable, and dispel magic, which I'll talk about in a minute.
-At fourth level we have divination, which is not combat useful, and guardian of faith, which deals some hefty damage on a Dex save. Keep in mind the mummy lord has three slots at this level.
-At 5th level we have the ever-annoying contagion, which can impose a number of crippling affects on a player, and uses an attack roll and a Con save to poison. The mummy Lord can also cast insect plague, a sphere that require concentration and imposes damage and difficult terrain.
-At 6th level we have the not at all generically named Harm, which deals MEGA necrotic damage on a failed or even successful save, and imposes another juicy affect.
Let's take a deeper look at those spells first, then move on to it's lair and legendary actions. Among the bosses in 5E, the mummy lord has a pretty solid spell list. As far as spells being non-combat-applicable, the only one that strikes me right away is divination, which I already mentioned. Animate dead is the only other throwaway, which I say only because it summons a CR 1/4 zombie or skeleton, which, based on the damage output of either, is not worth wasting one of the mummy lord's precious actions. Besides, if we're going thematically here, any mummy lord with its salt should have a few mummys hanging around it's lair (plus, they're also higher CR, so more appropriate for a 15th level boss). With that out of the way, let's talk about spiritual weapon, shield of faith and guiding bolt. Guiding bolt is a first level spell that deals 4d6 radiant damage, and grants the next attack roll against the hit creature advantage. While it's not worth upcasting super high, keep in mind that the mummy lord has a total of three third level spell slots, and has two of them pretty much open, assuming we're throwing animate dead out the window. At 3rd level, that's 6d6 radiant damage, not super high, but not half bad either. It doesn't upcast it beyond this, because, for one, the damage scaling in d6's ain't really worth it, and two, because it needs those higher level spell slots. With it's range and damage type, guiding bolt is pretty good for dealing with a flying spellcaster, or someone annoyingly out of the mummy lord's reach, like a dhampir with spider climb, or a monk that can dash around and avoid opportunity attacks. Not a spell to rely on, but don't forget it either. Spiritual weapon and Shield of faith are both bonus action spells dealing with some sort of illusory enhancement. Shield of faith provides a shimmering shield around you, granting a +2 to AC, but is concentration, so keep that in mind when casting a different spell like hold person. Spiritual weapon, on the other hand, is not concentration, is a bonus action, and can be moved up to 20 feet on a turn as a bonus action attack. Lower damage, but not bad, and the bonus action is nice. This is on you'll be using in combo with the mummy lord's multiattack feature, if you do. I mention these two together because the mummy Lord can have both going at once. I'll mention how it works in order, but since only shield of faith is concentration, this is a worthy combo if the mummy decides to go on the offensive a little bit. Up next worth mentioning are the almighty hold person and silence, both concentration (which means neither can be going at the same time, nor in tandem with shield of faith), and both imposing different crippling effects. I've covered hold person before in the death knight article (page 2), and here it is, again, highly worth upcasting, up to fourth level at the least, to tag three creatures. The more you target, the less likely they are to succeed the save, collectively that is. Silence is worth using to cast against a group of spellcasters that are annoying it, up to three at least, and most helpfully a bard, all within the 40 foot range. Dispel magic is useful when dealing with an ongoing or annoying spell affect, and the mummy lord keeps at least one slot for this at all times. Two is preferable, and it most likely won't be upcasting any of it's lower level spells (save maybe guiding bolt) to three. The mummy lord has three 4th level slots, two of which are open due to divination, but it keeps the one for guardian of faith! This is a very interesting spell that requires some careful reading and play style to use to it's full potential. When, cast, the spell summons an unmoving guardian that occupies a 10x10 foot space (being large) and imposes a Dex save on any creature that moves within the space, dealing out a flat 20 radiant damage on a fail, or half on a success. It poofs after dealing a total of 60, but know that that doesn't necessarily mean three straight attacks. Whatever damage it deals is subtracted from the 60 total, so even if it deals out 10 to a pc who succeeds the Dex save, it still has 50 left (if it deals three more attack, and they all miraculously succeed, drop 10 off one of them to even out the total). Just know that the guardian does not have hit points or ac, it simply stays until the job is done. What's more, there's technically no reason the spell can't stack, so you could theoretically cast it twice to get two guardians (although one slot is reserved for hold person, and thats a lot of actions to burn on these guys. You could have one already in the lair, guarding an entrance, since the duration is 8 hours). It's also not concentration, so it can be going at the same time as hold person or spiritual weapon. Next (I promise I'll finish) the mummy lord has contagion and insect plague. Contagion is a very weirdly worded spell, that seems somewhat underpowered to me (it is 5th level, it just takes 3 rounds to come into affect). If the mummy lord succeeds on a melee attack (with a +9, likely) the target will end up poisoned for 3 rounds, and suffer another crippling affect after. If combat has drug on for more than 4 rounds, and the mummy lord hasn't utterly smoted (past tense, see smite for more details) it's enemies, then it needs to rethink it's life (or death, rather). All in all not a bad spell, but should be cast immediately for the full effect. The mummy lord also has insect plague, which fills a 20 foot radius (just say 40 feet wide) sphere with biting insects, with a Con save. Not bad to blanket an area and stop those pesky monks from moving around too much, as it also causes difficult terrain in the radius. Finally, we come to HARM! the mummy lord's nuclear bang-bang 'hey I'm the boss' spell, which deals a whopping 14d6 necrotic damage, which is around 50 damage on average! And, if that wasn't enough for you, the targets hp maximum on a failed con save reduces by the damage taken! That's almost a 50 point reduction to your hp! I mean, sure it can be restored, but that forces one of the spellcasters to waste an action, and in the meantime, that's pretty brutal! But hey, that's how a mummy lord be. Whew! alright. now on to the proper order of combat.
A mummy lord in combat is similar to a lich in some ways, high level spellcasting, a decent melee attack, a wealth of legendary actions, and even a means of rejuvenating. Unlike a lich, a mummy lord is a bit more versatile in its action economy, in the sense of bonus actions and legendary actions. It also has the fine multiattack feature with it's dreadful glare and rotting fist, both of which impose some pretty crippling affects. Dreadful glare is an especially scary one if you have other mummies to back it up, making it harder to succeed on multiple saves. I like to flavor it with the linens wrapping the face dropping, like this: (You see the ancient linens around the mummy's face open, falling down to reveal, the harsh, rotted gaze of the undead creature. A crippling fear enshrouds you, draining all your feelings of calmness and safety. All you can think is to escape that horrible gaze... ). Along with the multiattack, spiritual weapon is a useful spell, to be used as a bonus action if you choose melee. There are three things to keep in mind for this combat. 1) the mummy lord is a glass cannon, and will get easily smashed by a paladin or wildfire druid (trust me I play a paladin). 2) the mummy lord punishes spellcasters pretty hard. Between its magic resistance, high saving throws in all of the big three except dex, but still with con and wisdom, which are incredibly useful, and its lair action, which might stop them from casting for a round altogether. 3) the mummy lord has a very versatile group of weapons at it's display, but using them can be difficult. To organize, think: what is bothering me? Is it a frontliner, with high ac and hit points, a spellcaster plinking me with fire damage from far away, or is it a monk or rogue avoiding my spell saves and dealing hit and run damage? If the frontliner, you're going to want to use spells like shield of faith and guardian of faith to defend yourself, and try to get 'em with you multiattack combo. Insect plague or hold person upcast is good for dealing with a group of spellcasters or just a large group in general, especially ones that will hurt from difficult terrain. Silence is also valid for dealing with spellcasters, and if there's one in particular bothering you, use harm. The best way to deal with a glass cannon is to smash it, and the mummy lord may be one, but it can deal with others as well. If you know one particular spellcaster is going to bother you, try going for contagion, as they are unlikely to make the Con save and will be weaker to affects like dreadful glare and rotting fist if they're poisoned. Starting in combat otherwise, Hold person (4th level), insect plague, and contagion are good openers, and convey the mummy lord's power and lordship very well. From there, depending on your problem, a Dreadful glare/Rotting fist multiattack ain't half bad, and hey, why not throw spiritual weapon into the mix? This multiattack will be more effective as you drop spell effects and other disabling conditions on your party, making them easier to hit and making it harder for them to save, so use discretion. Also keep in mind the mummy lord's defensive capabilites. Straight up immunity to non-magical physical damage, as well as necrotic and poison, immunity to a few conditions, noteworthy being charmed, frightened, and poisoned, which players are likely to impose with spells and affects (its also immune to paralyzed, which makes it basically immune to hold person). Let's now take a brief look at those legendary actions, and how they fit in to this madness. The mummy lord has 3 legendary action points, and has a wealth of very fun actions. I'll trust you to look up the statblock here, as I'll just give the names. Attack is useful for an extra bit of damage if someone is in range, or to cripple with its Glare. Blinding dust is situational but useful in melee with some more tanky players. Blasphemous word is also melee situational, but is very nice to stun some melee fighters with the bad word you just said. Channel negative energy is insane, but make use of it on the turns you have it. This is a nasty one to combo with harm, effectively stopping one creature from healing. Whirlwind of sand comes in handy in a tough spot, so use it wisely. How you combo these is up to you, they're all fairly situational, but work really well. Honestly, these are some of the best legendary actions in the game, and the mummy lord is a thoroughly well designed statblock. One final note, the mummy lord does have the Rejuvenation feature, similar to the lich's phylactery. So does it run away if stuff goes downhill? Well, the mummy lord does not have the lich's level of cunning or mastermind, and if this article should have taught you anything, it's that these guys are angry. The mummy lord doesn't back down until it destroys you, or until you destroy it.
In conclusion, thank you for reading. I know this one was veeeeeeery long, but I hope you enjoyed the rundown of the mummy lord, and that it makes you a better DM. Please enjoy, and comment with future ideas. Articles on Ghost and Gnoll coming soon. Have a good one!
How to Play Gnolls like Rampaging Forces of Hunger
Tristan gazed intensely into the campfire, as howls and demonic shrieks pierced the night air to his back. Despite his human urge to display fear, and run into the cold night, far away from the camp and the all-consuming hunger, he stayed, his mind still slightly tainted by the ritual. He scarcely remembered the event now. It hung in the back of his mind, almost able to be grasped, and yet, always so far away. He remembered the link between his mind and the beasts, the onset of it's savage, raw emotions, and the feeling of savagery transferring to his mind. And... a hunger. A deep, all-devouring need to destroy and eat and kill. A pit, that, despite how often you filled it, would never be satiated. He shuddered at the thought of the dark presence, yet also felt strangely comforted at the same time. The ritual was beginning to affect him, as undoubtedly was his time in the gnoll camp. As he gazed at the fire, deep in thought, he heard the sound of footfalls in the snow, ones that didn't crunch as loud as those a human made, portraying a predatory nature. He turned to see one of the pack creatures, a short one, about five and a half feet tall, with matted grey fur and bones tied into its hair around its head and neck. The beasts claws and facial fur were caked with old blood, and it carried a small bone necklace in its right claw. The beast gestured at Tristan with it's paw, beckoning him to stand, and growling and grunting in words that were somehow both familiar and unfamiliar. The ritual again, linking his mind in the oddest of ways. Tristan pointed to himself then to the necklace, asking, "you want me to.." the creature nodded and shoved the necklace in his hand. Tristan observed the necklace, the brutal craftsmanship portraying gnoll hands at work. The necklace was a simple piece of leather, bound up with what looked like many finger bones, and with one piece of skin from a cow or goat, with a strange symbol on it. A maw of teeth, painted in red sigils, almost appearing to open and close before his eyes, despite being drawn on the piece. He donned the necklace then turned to the gnoll, which gestured with a paw for him to follow. Tristan tentatively followed the beast, wrapped in his cloak to beat off the snow that fell perpetually. As they trudged through the camp they passed groups of gnolls gathered around more fire, howling and fighting amongst themselves, some for food, others for sport. In his days at the gnoll camp, Tristan had been almost shocked at the complete lack of warning leading up to the gnoll's brutality, especially against each other. The beasts would attack and kill without any provocation, sparking fights all around the camp. Whichever gnoll won the brief melee seemed to gain a certain amount of respect from the others. At first Tristan was put off, and somewhat confused as to why the demon lord allowed them to fight so. As he had grown with them, he realized the necessity that only the strongest could truly survive to feed the greater hunger. The shrieks and howls of fights and the spoils being devoured echoed throughout the camp. Tristan started as he realized they were headed for the pack lord's tent. He spied several more cultists of his order gathered around the entrance, chanting in the guttural gnoll language praises to Yeenoghu. He stared straight ahead as he strode determinedly into the tent. He pulled up the canvas to enter under the crude leather tent, and inside found the pack lord, on a bed of furs, and next to him, Vieren, the cult leader. The gnoll lord gazed at Tristan, with an intense glare, it's mouth still open and panting like an animal, yet it's eyes portraying a bestial instinct and intelligence. Vieren presented a covered bowl to Tristan from behind himself, setting it between them. "What's in the bowl?" Tristan asked. Vieren shook his head, and gestured to it once more. "Eat," he said, "And your ritual will be complete." the words seemed to echo off at the end, and Tristan grabbed his head as a pounding noise, like tribal drums, pounded his brain. The chanting outside seemed to grow louder, and more guttural, mixing with the howls and growlings from outside. "Eat," Vieren commanded once again. Tristan came back into focus, and all he saw was red. His eyes locked on Vieren, his gaze turning dark. Vieren's eyes widened as he saw Tristan, and began to back up, but it was too late. Tristan fell on him, pounding him with his fists and nails. Vieren's screams echoed into the night, mixing with the hyena howls of the camp. The pack lord shrugged, and took the bowl, chewing on the contents. "The lord is fed once more," it said in the gnoll language. "Long live his hunger."
Gnolls are the hyena spawn of the Demon Lord Yeenoghu, the Beast of Butchery. Gnolls live up to that title as creatures born out of slaughter and chaos that live only to kill and eat. Gnolls are ruthless predators and raiders, and will destroy entire villages and feast for days on their spoils. Their endless appetite and rampaging reflect the nature of their master in the Abyss, and his never-ending hunger. Gnolls are simple minded creatures, and as creations of a demon lord, lack complicated tactics and intrigue. However, there's plenty of interesting lore and content surrounding gnolls in D&D, and still plenty worth examining and using in your campaign.
The Endless Hunger
The Demon Lord Yeenoghu is the lord of the gnoll species, having created them by causing the hyena's who fed on the wake of his carnage in the material plane to transform into humanoid hyena monstrosities that live to carry out his dark mission. Under Yeenoghu, gnolls ultimately seek to overrun the world with slaughter and chaos, eventually destroying it to sate the demon lord's hunger. All gnolls in life carry no other mission or desire besides their craving for destruction and violence. Gnolls are addicted to the bloodshed in a way, and become bloated and overcome with powerful, violent desires, which they can only sate by causing more carnage. Gnolls are not creatures of organized territory or settlement. Similar to orcs, they don't form functioning societies within traditional borders. Instead, they travel in war bands ( see also War Band, noun: a group of bards devoted to the college of heavy metal), a mobile force of destruction made up of gnolls and their armies that sweeps through an area of land, carving out carnage in it's wake. Unlike orcs, gnolls cannot change their inherent disposition towards death and violence, nor do they feel the need to. They are purely creature dominated by the desire to feed their greater master. Gnolls are constantly wandering, in a state of war with all outsiders, always ready for the fight they live for. Gnolls don't find value in possessions or objects of external value, such as gold, gems, or even complex tools. Everything external to a gnoll is measured in warlike terms. Can it be used as a weapon? To gnolls, most of their weapons are improvised anyway, so it's likely that they will simply take any tools they find and fashion them into weapon or take pieces to make weapon later. If it's something they don't understand how to use, or can't easily transport (like a ballista or a gun if your campaign uses them) then gnolls leave it to burn with everything else in their wake. Gnolls most likely find magic strange and terrifying, as it is a weapon they cannot use nor comprehend. Therefore, they fear and hate magic users, and magic items are just as likely to get burned with the rest of their spoils. Another question to ask when gnolls come across a human is "is this person an enemy?" Gnolls measure people either as food or fellow servants of Yeenoghu. Some cultists in desperation and a state of utter nihilism do turn to Yeenoghu, which I'll talk about more later. Otherwise, unless instructed by the pack lord, gnolls kill and eat those they come across. In any raid they perform, they leave no survivors behind, primarily to sate their hunger, but also to prevent word of their attacks from spreading. Especially in the moments after a successful attack, most gnolls are too caught up in the violence and adrenaline of the moment to recognize friend from foe, and may attack any humans on sight. You can illustrate the gnoll's extreme bloodlust and the carnage they leave by showing players the aftermath of a gnoll battle first. The leftovers alone are a sobering sight, even to a seasoned adventurer. The idea of a foe so forcibly committed to an idea that it doesn't even care if it dies, and lives to slaughter, only enhances the fear of your players. I like to remember Michael Caine's speech in the Dark Knight, speaking of the Joker.Like the Joker, Gnolls can't be bought, bullied, or reasoned with. They just want to watch the world burn (or get devoured, more likely). The hunger of yeenoghu reflects a gnolls motivation, and makes them even more terrifying, and seemingly unstoppable. Gnolls live off these ideals of strength and fear, using their intimidating presence as tools to make for easier prey. Remember, to a hammer, everything looks like a nail. To a gnoll, life is a constant state of war. All tools are weapons, all food is Yeenoghu's, all life is food.
Entering the Mind of a Gnoll
Inherently, Gnolls aren't complex creatures. While they are, for sure, a terrifying, intimidating force to be reckoned with, the intelligence of your average gnoll is only 6. They aren't complex, and they don't have overly complex techniques. Think very animalistic in your approach to these creatures. They may not have high intelligence, but their Wisdom is about average, and they do have that bestial instinct and cunning for sure. Gnolls attack like predators, albeit more savage ones motivated by intense fear and devotion to a demon lord. They always attack those weakest, oldest and sickest in a group first, as well as the wounded, and try to weaken as many in the group as they can before that. An easier target is a better target to a gnoll. After all, they may be stronger than the average human, but their real strength relies on their enemies weakness and fear of them. Gnoll society (if you can call it that) revolves a lot around this interplay between fear, strength, and devotion through hunger. In the same way gnolls consume food and the carnage of their battles with supernatural ferocity, the overpowering hunger and presence of Yeenoghu consumes their minds day by day. There really is no individual gnoll, not as they see it. Everything they eat is part of a collective, a great devouring by the conscious of Yeenoghu. And while they lack military coordination, all their actions are, in a bizarre way, linked inseparably by this hunger. A common complaint with gnolls is that, if they have an intelligence of 6, how on earth do they fashion armor and weapons? Especially when compared to creatures of equal lesser intelligence who haven't? Well for one thing, know that Gnolls are unique in the fact that their society is wholly devoted to violence, the ideal of causing harm to others (and then some). Like I said with the hammer-nail analogy, gnolls are so based on warfare that they can't help but make weapons out of the thing they see. If you think about it, this making weapons actually is a sign of a less advanced society rather than more advanced, in this case. Instead of using complex tools for their true purpose, a gnoll only sees fit to bash someones' head in with it. Their whole life is violence, so they think in terms of violence. The bow question is a little more warranted, that is, why can gnolls, very un-complex creatures, use bows? After all, it doesn't really seem like their style. Well, as I'll show in their tactics (and as graciously provided in Volo's guide) gnolls actually use bows a little bit strategically, firing from a distance first, to weaken and soften up their targets, then swiftly sending in the gnoll flesh gnawers and ground troops to overwhelm their enemies. I would rule that gnolls in my campaign can use bows, especially when enemies are far away, and there is no direct, easy path to them. You can rule it at your discretion though. On that note, gnolls are otherwise straightforward thinkers. Their plans of attack don't have to be complicated, as they almost always have the advantages of surprise, numbers, and fear on their side. What little intelligence they have grants that gnolls wouldn't attack a large, strong group directly (such as a well fortified city or a military convoy with large numbers and armaments). The territories and places they are more likely to hunt by a villages and tows out near wilderness and planes, where the war band can easily navigate and maneuver to attack, then flee to a new source of prey. Remember, the life of a gnoll is a constant cycle of violence. Attack, consume, replenish, rest, repeat.
Sidenote: Good gnolls?
The Gnolls I'm basing this article off of are, obviously, the classic D&D gnolls (at least the ones in 5E), those beasts that serve the demon lord and are dominated by evil. However, especially in homebrew and in your own circle, that's not to say there can't be good gnolls. For example, in my campaign I'm currently working on, gnolls are split about 70/30 good to evil. Yeenoghu was partly defeated long ago, and is now known as the Starving One, the demon lord who languishes in the pit, pining for the days when his hunger was daily filled. The remaining gnolls are either recluses, creatures now blessed with intelligence and good intentions, who stay away from most of society due to extreme stigma against their kind, or wild refugees, creatures with no purpose who only remember the days of slaughter under Yeenoghu, and who now wander purposeless, slaughtering without a cause or hunger to sate. You can do it any way, but know that gnolls who have deviated from the dark path of Yeenoghu (or who had no Yeenoghu in the first place) can be just as interesting.
Cult of Yeenoghu
As already mentioned already, the demon lord Yeenoghu plays quite a key role in gnoll society and culture, as well as in their everyday lives. Gnolls are devoted to Yeenoghu with a cultic, religious reverence, but also a fear. Although he has less of a presence on the material plane then he once did, the demon lord still spreads chaos to this day through his servants. One key belief and superstition of gnoll kind is that he communicates through omens and signs, especially those surrounding events of violence, and their aftermath. He might portray his will through a spattering of blood on a wall after a raid, perhaps translated by the band's pack lord or a gnoll fang of Yeenoghu. Yeenoghu manipulates and controls his followers in omens such as this, and maintains a startling presence on the material plane, despite his current prison. Many gods who are not physically present in the material world maintain their connection through dreams or telepathy, and Yeenoghu is certainly no exception to the rule. His presence in the mind of his cultists is perhaps the strongest of any demon lord. Yeenoghu loves to manipulate through fear, by seeping violent imagery and visions of destruction and bloodlust into the minds of those he seeks to draw to him. As with any demon-worshiping cult, those who flock to Yeenoghu are individuals already troubled of mind, those outcasts or pariahs of society who find solace only in what they believe to be a greater cause, serving the hunger of the demon lord. Those banished from large cities for heinous crimes (especially violent ones), those living in maybe already cannibalistic societies on the outskirts of the world, or even just those who struggle to find a place anywhere in society might join the service of the Hungering One. Human cultists here are more likely less concerned with gaining followers through the usual means of deception, corruption, and bribery, and are more likely to take what they can, mostly spreading their numbers wide and thin in outskirts villages, seeking to draw the weakest and most depraved away from the greater parts of civilization. These cultists are far less concerned with their own needs and with making a profit, and instead will manipulate through violent threat or even plain admittance as to their cause, then forcing others to comply. The manner of these cultists is often strange, as they walk the line between humanoid intelligence and the all-consuming urge of the demon lord to devour, kill, and resort to basic savagery. Their bearing is not too off-putting at first, almost unsettlingly calm, given the deeds they commit. These cultists fear no death, and there are no pretenders among their ranks. Those who join the cult of Yeenoghu live to feed and die.
Gnoll Battle Tactics
Despite their apparent savagery and lack of martial cunning, Gnolls do possess a certain level of strategy as the brutal predators that they are. They may be lacking in Intelligence, but they do have a bestial element to them and a motivation of hunger that, when combined with their complete lack of fear of death and uncompromising morals, makes for a terrifying force to oppose. Gnolls function on a battlefield similar to predator animals. They attack the weakest, oldest, and most vulnerable members of a large group first, trying to draw off those stronger into defense, then ganging up on them with superior numbers. Those targets that have been incapacitated or wounded critically the gnolls begin feasting on, eliminating the weakest prey automatically. Gnolls don't typically enter a battle where their enemie's numbers match or supersede their own, unless they are incredibly desperate, and haven't fed sufficiently in weeks. Gnolls always prefer the advantages of surprise, stealth, the cover of darkness if possible, and numbers. Their most likely targets of attack are small villages and towns that don't have a significant routine defense force, or slow moving convoys or wagon trains. They first try to position their gnoll hunters on high ground, with a good view of the area. They most likely disregard cover, not accounting for advanced spellcasters or trained enemy archers. They then surge around, spreading wide, but still clumping together to retain the advantage of numbers. They send gnoll flesh gnawers in, to weaken and speedily cripple their enemies, right after the archers have fired their first barrage. The arrows of gnoll hunters have a crippling affect that disables a hit creature's movement for a round. I like to flavor this as their arrows being so crude and having bits of jagged, sharp metal on the end, almost like a fish hook, to cause more pain to their targets. Then the war band swoops in, attacking and raiding left and right, swooping on the most obvious undefended targets, and ganging up on or shooting any guards they see from a distance. Gnolls use their bite attack often, giving the appearance of feasting mid-battle. If you wanted to highlight the fear of this technique, you can use this optional rule for any gnoll statblock, borrowed from the Bheur Hag:
Maddening Feast.3 or more Gnolls feast on the corpse of an enemy within 5 feet of them that died within the past minute. Each creature within 30 feet of them must succeed on a DC 14 Wisdom saving throw or be frightened for 1 minute. A creature can repeat the saving throw at the end of each of it's turns, ending the effect on itself on a success.
If the battle becomes too fierce for the gnolls or they encounter obvious, overwhelming resistance (such as a group of trained archers, firing from a distance, spellcasters out of reach, or heavily armored tanking enemies) then they flee reluctantly, some taking the spoils of their battle with them in a desperate attempt to sate their hunger. Now I want to take a bit of a closer look at how gnolls individually perform in a battle.
Basic Gnoll. The Gnoll statblock as provided in the Monster Manual is a pretty basic skirmisher. High Strength and Dexterity, slightly above average Constitution, and low everything else, but Intelligence especially. They have a 15 AC, not bad for CR 1/2, and about average hit points. Their outstanding feature is Rampage, which works well with another large group of gnolls, and is less useful against PC's, where they are unlikely to be dropping left and right, and more useful against a large group of commoners that they can slaughter (it's a jerk move, but that's how gnolls do). If they are facing creatures like commoners, who have no visible armor or defense weapons (other than maybe a frying pan or a club), they go straight for the bite at close range, using the Rampage to their advantage. At a range, the common gnoll can use a bow and will likely serve as backup in the archery brigade of the war band. The spear attack, which the gnoll uses with two hands, is used to cripple and maim targets who look a bit stronger and more likely to survive the first hit. Any enemy like a Knight or other heavily armored foe the gnolls count on their hunters to disable with long bows (which, interestingly enough, is what longbows were originally used for in medieval times. The large, heavy arrow shafts were ideal for piercing the heavy armor of the knights on horseback at long range). If they have no skilled archers and a tough opponent gives them a lot of trouble, the gnolls swarm and attack that opponent, circling with their spears.
Gnoll Hunter. A Gnoll Hunter is a more stealthy, more perceptive gnoll with a crippling longbow. These gnolls have slightly higher intelligence, and use what little thye have to stay out of melee (due to their lower Ac) as much as they can, sniping with their longbows against the targets that look the most likely to hurt more gnolls in melee (unless they've already cast a spell, gnolls in general don't typically target the unarmored spellcaster like a heavy target. They assume he's a commoner and fight him like one until he casts something that screams "woah, back off" to them). A gnoll hunter will most likely enter melee when it runs out of arrows, or when they don't appear to be needed up top anymore, and their buddies are starting the feast without them.
Gnoll Flesh Gnawer. A Gnoll flesh gnawer is a speedy, stabby gnoll with abit higher Dex than the average gnoll, and wielding two shortswords in the place of a hunter's bow (I like the small thematic differences in the elements of a war band, which shows the players some diversity among even the average gnoll, even something as simple as wielding different weapons). These gnolls have a triple multiattack, which can be quite crippling to some low level pc's, and the ability to dash without provoking opportunity attacks. When combined with the Rampage feature, this gives the gnolls a sense of speedy destruction, a wave of demonic hyena surging through a camp, cutting down all those in their way. Flesh gnawers attack with a crazed brutality, and don't retreat unless something shakes them out of their bloodlust. This pretty much goes for all gnolls, as they believe they always have the advantage, and nothing to fear from their opponents. Those caught up in a battle that have already started feasting don't stop until they die or until all their enemies are defeated.
Gnoll Fang of Yeenoghu. The gnoll fang of Yeenoghu are exceptional fighters, blessed with a dark gift from Yeenoghu that gives them extra power, and the ability to create other gnolls (spooky!). They have lower AC than the typical gnoll (just barely), and much higher hit points, with a triple multiattack tacked on. They are actually classified as fiends, demonic spirits that come over a gnoll as a special gift from the demon lord himself. They purely use their bite and claws, giving them a sense of extra savagery and brutality from Yeenoghu. These guys are much smarter than your average gnoll, even than the pack lord, and use their cunning (and by that I mean flat average intelligence) to assess targets a little better, maybe directing the archers, and running with a small "honor guard" of gnolls around it, to shield it from enemy bows, and increase their numerical advantage. Gnoll Fangs of Yeenoghu have enough intelligence to know to Disengage when they retreat, instead of just Dashing away. A way to control a gnoll population is to destroy the source of new gnolls being created, that is, the Fangs. Players wanting to target those specifically might be rewarded by a good Insight or Perception check to see that these a maybe a bit bigger and taller than the average gnoll, with thicker arm muscles and more trophies to decorate them. Their claws and teeth also might appear longer and sharper.
Gnoll Pack Lord. Finally, we come to the gnoll pack lord. These are the boss gnolls, less powerful than a Fang of Yeenoghu, but still able to pack a punch. The punch they pack is a glaive, which functions in it's multiattack alongside the traditional bite and longbow (don't bother with the longbow). The pack lord has higher AC and hit points than the average gnoll, and the very interesting Incite Rampage feature, which allows it to give a gnoll that it can see a bonus attack reaction. Pretty cool! This gives the pack lord a sort of "director" position in the pack, a gnoll who can coordinate it's attacks with others. Other than that, these guys fight like a standard gnoll. They aren't likely to retreat, but if the pack's numbers have been reduced by a quarter or more, or they are facing some big armor or spellcasters, the pack lord leads the retreat away.
I hope you guys all enjoyed this article, I certainly did. Please share thoughts and maybe your own tactics as well as some monsters you'd like to see in this series. Thanks for reading, have a good one!
Quick update, there will be an article on ghosts soon (there's your gnoll article @Undaunted :). After that, I plan to do some monsters from sources outside the Monster Manual. Let me know your favorites from Volo's guide, Van Richten's guide, Fizbans, or other books and I'll put my best spin on them. I've also thought about doing a series with brief encounter scenarios to put some of these tactics in context. Let me know your interest, and maybe some ways you'd like to see that done. It's a new year, and there's still plenty of content to cover..
Gho0styy - thank you for this series, it is really insightful and hopefully, as my campaigns develop, useful.
These are really well written, and I don't know if anyone at dndbeyond is watching this thread, but if they are...feel free to recommend that they get published as guides, or that you look to give Gho0styy a freelance role to add content for you :)
Gho0styy - thank you for this series, it is really insightful and hopefully, as my campaigns develop, useful.
These are really well written, and I don't know if anyone at dndbeyond is watching this thread, but if they are...feel free to recommend that they get published as guides, or that you look to give Gho0styy a freelance role to add content for you :)
Well I don't know about all that but I appreciate the comment all the same. Glad to know there's steady readers out there. Anything interest you specifically/anything you'd like to see upcoming? Make a recommendation and I'll try to make the dream come true ;)
I know it's been a long time since i last posted, but I sincerely hope to get back to this thread in the near future, probably not with the regularity i used to, but I will still be posting content. I may be releasing some articles soon related to the new monster compendium, so keep an eye out for those, and give the posts some love. thanks
I know it's been a long time since i last posted, but I sincerely hope to get back to this thread in the near future, probably not with the regularity i used to, but I will still be posting content. I may be releasing some articles soon related to the new monster compendium, so keep an eye out for those, and give the posts some love. thanks
I just used the abandoned temple idea- I flavored it to be a abandoned temple of Tyr taken over by a Druid of Solarus, the main evil god in my campaign. One of my characters worships Tyr, which made it even more interesting! These suggestions have all been helpful.
Only spilt the party if you see something shiny.
Ariendela Sneakerson, Half-elf Rogue (8); Harmony Wolfsbane, Tiefling Bard (10); Agnomally, Gnomish Sorcerer (3); Breeze, Tabaxi Monk (8); Grace, Dragonborn Barbarian (7); DM, Homebrew- The Sequestered Lands/Underwater Explorers; Candlekeep
Awesome! Glad you all like it! Ive taken a christmas break but now that the holidays are over I can get back to writing. I know I've been saying "new articles soon" for a while but they are coming. There will be one for the mimic and one for spectators. Any other suggestions are welcome.
Updog
How to Run Mimics like Stealthy Ambush Predators
"Sometimes a chest is just a chest, but don't bet on it..."
-X the Mystic's 3rd rule of dungeon survival
It's a stool! It's a chest! It's... eating your hand? It's a mimic! Mimic's are iconic D&D creatures known for their ability to shapeshift into any object around their size for a frightening and sticky surprise to the one who picks it up. Mimics have the basic ambush attacker profile, with high strength and constitution, the grappler feat, which comes in handy when added onto their pseudopod attack, and high stealth. So, they can sneak up on you, and once they grab on, they don't let go. However, you can only pull the old "chest you wanted to open to loot the dungeon is really a mimic" trick so many times before it gets old. So how to spruce up these squishy shapeshifters? Let's dive in.
The Mimic Problem
As I mentioned in the ooze article, mimics and oozes both share a bit of nostalgic tendency among D&D players, especially those who remember the dungeon crawl days. And, as I also mentioned, this nostalgia might lead DM's to neglect or forfeit use of these creatures altogether. However, I think forgetting these creatures entirely is a huge mistake. As I've often said, the key to making a creature fun and enjoyable lies not in the statblock alone, but how you use the tools you are given, plus your own creative spin, to make them as fun for your players as possible. And, especially if you have new and young players who remember not the dungeon crawl days but have only played D&D in the critical role era, it might be fun to shock them with a little dungeon crawl action now and then. And speaking of shocks, mimics are perfect if you need to jumpscare the willies out of your players. After all, they can shapeshift into any object. That already gives them stellar opportunity in your game. But first, let's think about how these monstrosities operate. Mimics do have low intelligence, a solid 5 (-3). This is bestial intelligence, which assumes that, while they may not be advanced enough to talk or express complicated thought, they do have a certain level of instinct and bestial cunning. They are hunters after all. They are also monstrosities which is the 5e categorization for a thing that can't be categorized anywhere else. This usually involves creatures of uncertain magical origins, such as a manticore or an owlbear. Although based on how most of those backstories go, we can theorize that mimics were most likely born when a transmuter sneezed into a polymorph potion, creating the shapeshifting purple boogers we all know and fear today. Their nature as a monstrosity doesn't particularly come into play when trying to run mimics, although it does provide interesting story opportunities for a way in which you choose to use mimics in your campaign. Just take the idea of an experimenting transmuter perhaps in a world where mimics don't even exist yet, meddling with polymporph potions, and creates these creatures as living polymorphs. However, the mimics are loosed in his lab, and he hires the party to go and find them. You could play it with a very serious horror undertone, playing up their shapeshifting abilities with jumpscares, or play it as a very lighthearted comical short, where the mimics are still chaotic and weird, but not as malicious as they seem. The possibilities are endless. And while their statblock isn't the most detailed one ever, mimics are still open to versatility and creativity. Just look at the variations already released. Everything from giant mimics, like the actual giant mimic, to the spitting mimic. Fizban's even features the Hoard mimic, a go big or go home spin on the class disguised-as-a-magical-item trope. After all, what's more tempting than a single magical sword? An entire trove of treasure! Imagine your players surprise when they infiltrate the vault or dragon's layer only to discover that the hoard itself is the danger. This bit reminds me of Gringot's from Harry Potter, in which the treasure taken by potential thieves is cursed in unique ways that keep it safe. There's definitely no shortage of mimics in the known world. So what to do with the vanilla mimic? Well, I think it's easy to overlook the shapechanger ability as simply another one of it's features, but when you consider all of it's abilities together, a mimic can be a terrifying foe. They are slow, true, and vulnerable, but they also latch onto you, and don't let go easily. Mimics also don't really need to move fast when they can just disguise themselves as whatever they want. The video game Prey, which is a sci-fi survival horror fps, features mimics primarily as a main enemy. In Prey, mimics are small, fast, black four legged creatures which scuttle around and kill by shoving their tentacles down the throat. These mimics are speedy, but rely on hit and run tactics, by attacking and then scurrying away, then disguising themselves as an object in a room. These mimics are devious, and will turn into the most tempting objects when you least expect it. In one scene, a mimic turns itself into a medkit, a brilliant reversal of turning into a sword, instead mimicking the one thing the player needs to gain health, and forcing them into another battle. I highly recommend watching play-throughs of Prey if you want to up your mimic game.
Invasion of the Shapeshifters!
Mimics in 5e possess a shapeshift ability that is pretty much unique to them, in the sense of how they use it. Mimics are true shapeshifters, with the ability to turn into basically any object, although I would rule that the object has to be within it's size boundaries (medium, large, etc) otherwise there's no point to having a giant mimic. Because I could see some potential confusion here, let's go over how the shapeshifting ability functions. Obviously mimics are creatures of low Intelligence, and thus retain little in the sense of memorization, so how do they know what to transform into? Well, I personally would rule that a mimic can transform into anything it has seen, and has the instinct to know when to use what object form. After all, creatures like dolphins and rats are adept at memorization of patterns and certain colors, so it's not unreasonable that these magical monstrosities don't have significant instincts to pull it off. After all, mimics probably wouldn't survive very long if their escape reaction in a crowded town square was to turn into a rubber duck on the spot. All joking aside, it does bring up a good point: are mimics predators, or prey? Both types of creatures in nature can possess some form of camouflage or disguise. Many insects in nature have some way of blending in with their surroundings, or a bright color pattern that warns predators that they are poisonous (although a lot of predators go for it anyway. Darn predators). Likewise, many hunter creatures have an innocent appearance or camouflage that is betrayed by a deadly attack, such as a venus fly trap. As such, I would rule that mimics are pretty obviously predators, for one, because it's more exciting, but also because of their tactics. Why would prey be so slow and vulnerable and live so long, and possess the ability to stick itself to a predator? After all, prey are usually trying to escape their predator, not stick to it. As such, a mimics usually MO is to get as close as possible with it's movement speed, sticking to the shadows (Darkvision 60 ft!) and shapeshifting when it must. Since the stat block doesn't specify that a mimic can't move in object form, I would rule that it still can, although it's movement may be varied. For example, if it turns into a wine bottle, it might have to roll around. If it turns into a box or a ball, it might have to hop, causing a bit of noise (maybe an eerie squeaking sound if it's a rubber ball.... hmmmm). In addition, the mimics statistics are the same in each form. Thus the object is mostly appearance, and serves as the mimics shell in which to sneak around in. This could be a giveaway in which an object that might normally break or behave differently stays entirely intact or moves in a strange way. Going back to the wine bottle example, perhaps it rolls off a high table without breaking, or maybe a sword in a pool of acid is completely untarnished (immunity to acid damage, remember?). The point overall is, mimics know how to use their shapeshifted forms to their advantage, and take all opportunities in their area to do so. Some examples of good mimic lairs are a library, where there are plenty of books to turn into, a bar or wine cellar, where the bottles literally fly off the shelves at unsuspecting party members, a potions lab, and really any location with a lot of small objects and hiding places for the mimic. The mimic knows to hide in places like this, as it sees plenty of potential targets, and makes a sort of lair out of them. It's not unreasonable to call mimics pack hunters, and a group of these creatures in an abandoned library or factory would be a terrifying encounter indeed!
Running a Mimic
We've already looked extensively at mimic behavior, as well as some sample ideas and encounters, but let's now tie it all together and look at a mimic's tactics. The mimic in 5e has the standard ambusher profile, with a little help from it's shapeshifting ability. High Strength and Constitution, lower AC but decent hit points for level 2, and a pseudopod and bite attack. With these factors, a mimic's goal is to sneak up on you, then grab and sink into you with it's acid bite attack. It latches on, and doesn't retreat easily. The Monster Manual describes mimics as evolved creatures, which, as we've already seen, means they can learn and adapt, and will do so over time. This explains why a mimic knows what to turn in to to attract steady sources of prey. However, this also means that they have a decent amount of cunning in their package, at least enough to know when to run. Mimic's also have above average stealth on top of their dex. So, putting it all together:
- Mimics have high strength and a decent bite attack, although they lack a sufficient multiattack. However, their per-round damage combined with their grappler feat, and their adhesive feature make them formidable in melee.
- Mimics are slow, and somewhat weak at level 2, with only a 12 in AC. They are however immune to acid damage.
- Mimics have above average stealth, and the shapechanger ability, which makes it easier for them to get in close. They also have the adhesive feature, which means once a player has grabbed on, it's tough to let go.
So how does a mimic start combat? Well, it starts in it's polymorphed form if it can help it. The mimics moving speed is only 15 feet, and really serves more purpose out of combat as a way of getting around. If the players don't take the bait and grab it, the mimic attempts to sneak up on them (+5 stealth), and makes a surprise attack. I would rule that a mimic that attacks in object form with a melee attack can choose to adhere to a creature with that attack, as long as it stays in that form. On that subject, a mimic never really needs to go back to it's true form in combat. It's statistics are the same in each form, and it gains nothing by turning back. It seems like the true form is kind of up to the DM, although all illustrations seem to agree that mimics have some kind of oozy purple body, rows of yellow teeth in a gaping mouth, and orange eyes somewhere on it. Beyond this, there's really no specifications, and those factors could be easily changed (although I would recommend keeping a mouth on it and some kind of pseudopod to match the statblock). The body isn't really important, but it does make an interesting reveal for that jump scare moment. What mimics can turn into is really what often makes them interesting, especially when that thing is unexpected. As I mentioned earlier, many new players don't have experience with the dungeon crawl mimic, and so even the classic chest trick is worth a go once in a while. I find it more fun to fake them out, scaring them with a mimic initially, and introducing the threat, but then leaving the rest of the dungeon alone for a time. After all, people and pc's alike are afraid of what they can't see, so just the threat that every object they see just might be a mimic will keep them on their toes and asking "what's in this room?" At this moment, I like to leave a big obvious chest in the middle of the room, making it perfectly normal, just to psyche my players out, and then drop a mimic in the door exiting the room. A mimic's form is extremely versatile, only bound by your imagination, so have fun with it! Now, the jumpscare concept only works so many times, so what's better than one mimic but two! After all, it's conceivable that a swarm of mimics would come together to hunt and blanket an area. Like I mentioned before, areas with plenty of reach, good hiding spots, and objects to turn into make fine spaces for a swarm of mimics. Think about the implications in combat! Picture, a swarm of books flying off the shelves and sticking to the paladin's plate armor as he swings at them, only to discover that they stick to his sword too! The purple goo begins to envelop him, lashing out with bites and pseudopods, causing a scene almost like Mr Incredible's capture with the black blobs in The Incredibles. Another fun twist is to make the mimics bigger. Although the monster manual doesn't specify, I would rule that a mimic can only turn into an object the same size as it's true form or smaller. So if it's medium, only something about the size of a chair or small table, even a book or a lantern. This makes larger mimics like the giant mimic and the hoard mimic much more engaging. It's one thing to be attacked by a little goo blob with fangs, it's another entirely for a whole bookshelf to come to life and smack down on them. The hoard mimic is my personal favorite of these, because players may be expecting traps going into the treasure room, but they'll never expect the treasure itself to come to life and attack! This is an especially scary variant in any enclosed space, like the Gringot's vault I mentioned before. In older editions of D&D there was even a House Mimic, a gargantuan mimic that could imitate objects of enormous size, and trap victims within itself. This would be an amazing once-off trick to pull on your players to really make them never underestimate mimics again. Say there's a house that always seems to shift strangely, with furniture changing around and even whole rooms moving around each other at times. The players would be sent to investigate, only realizing once they're in that they've been trapped inside of a giant mimic house! Even better to populate the house with objects inside that are actual mimics! If your players didn't hate you before, they will now. And of course, any mimic in combat will flee once it's taken significant damage, reducing it to half or fewer, or whenever it sees that it won't be able to grapple or inflict enough damage on it's target. Mimics don't really "flee" with a movement speed of 15 feet, and a dashing speed of 30 feet, and instead try to get as far away as fast as possible, then shapeshift into a different object until the threat leaves.
In conclusion, the mimic, despite it's under-usage, is still by far one of the most interesting low level creatures out there. It's shapeshifting ability is so much fun to play around with, and is well worth the reveal to your players. Mimics are one of the most nuanced and customizable monsters out there, so have fun using and reusing them in different ways. Thanks for reading
Updog
Interesting; I might have to consider how to incorporate one into my campaign. So, question I have: where are these most commonly found? Abandoned dungeons and keeps?
Wherever you want to put them! It just depends on the scenario and the setting. Like I said, mimics are hunters, and evolved creatures, so they hunt in areas with good hiding spaces and areas with plenty of potential "targets" which to them are objects to shapeshift in to. Abandoned factories, libraries, and dungeons, or even occupied dungeons work. As long as there's not a major threat to their hunting patterns. Mimics can shapeshift, and have high stealth, so they're extremely good at hiding. They haven't survived this long because they've gotten caught by dungeon guards. Anywhere old with plenty of hiding spots for the most part. Knowing the style of the campaign helps, but these can really be put anywhere, even a crowded bar! A mimic infestation can happen anywhere! In the bar example, they might be killing patrons at the inn by night, and hiding by day as bottles and other small items.
Updog
How to Play Spectators like Alien Sentinels
The wraith's bone sunk, now truly lifeless, to the stone ground as Theron sheathed his longsword. "Well," he remarked, "that went better than I expected."
The halfling rogue scoffed, lying on the stone floor near a bed. "Easy for you to say," she said dusting herself off. "I feel like I've been trampled by a stampede of hill giants. Although no worse than that one hangover in Durnan's place. I don't guess you have any healing left in you Jeska?" she said gesturing to the kobold, huddled behind a bed.
"Y-y-yes," the little dragon stammered. "But I REALLY don't like undead. And we've already had to fight a pack of ghouls and a wraith! The Spell Forge better be around the corner!" the kobold made her way over to the rogue, and muttered an incantation while waving her hands over the withered halfling's abdomen, restoring life to the frail body. "There," Jeska said. "But that's all you're getting!" she harumphed and padded off to the doorway. "Now can someone please open this?"
"Come now Jeska," said the half elf wizard in a high voice, bent over his staff. "There's no need to hurry through! This is a place of magic thousands of years old! I mean, just think of all the secrets locked up in here, just waiting to be discovered! Now if I can just get through the door..." he trailed off, examining it. "I don't see any runes, but it does look ancient, and made of iron no less! Although it's a bit worn and burnt-" he was cut off as Theron smashed through the door with the hilt of his blade, knocking it clean off the hinges.
"Well now!" the wizard said. "I suppose the element of surprise is... is.."
He looked stunned, at the room before him. Tattered walls and burnt floors, scattered with debris and ancient blood. The room appeared to be extremely ancient, with several dwarvish carvings matched alongside magical runes on the sections of wall not desecrated. In the middle of the room sat an ornate brazier, seemingly unharmed by whatever had happened to the rest of the room. An arcane fire blazed atop it, casting eerie shadows on the room, and illuminating a strange shape toward the back.
A green orb, with four stalks shooting off of it, suspended seemingly by magic in the air. As it drew closer, a large, eerie eye framed in the middle of it's face over a fanged mouth was revealed. "Name yourselves, and declare you business!" boomed a voice in their heads, seemingly from the strange floating creature.
"My name is Jeska!" the little kobold declared, "And I'm gonna give YOU the business if you don't-"
"Alright, that's enough," said Theron putting a hand on her shoulder. "Look, we don't want trouble," he said. "My name is Theron, and we're here for the Spell Forge, which I take to be this room."
The creature eyed them inquisitively, casting it's gaze seemingly on the whole room at once. "I am the guardian of this place. I am bound to protect this chamber, and all that lies in it. Trespassers are forbidden! I must demand that you leave the way you came. I shall let you go unharmed if you do."
The wizard stumbled forward, taking place behind Theron. "I don't think this is a good idea," He whispered. "This thing was put here for a reason. Maybe we should do as it asks.."
Theron shook his head, then turned to address the floating Spectator. "If you wish us to leave, I'm sad to report that we can't. We were sent here on a mission, and frankly, there may be forces at play here that you don't understand. Please let us pass, we promise not to harm your domain."
The spectator huffed, and turned aside, almost thoughtfully. "Well that is unfortunate," it echoed in a deep voice, it's eyes beginning to glow. "I have been charged with guarding this domain, and for many years I have done so."
You have been issued warnings," it said as the door behind them slammed. "And have not heeded. Prepare for you banishment!" the creature yelled as it loosed a beam of dark energy from it's eye, twinned by another ray that shot at Theron, leaving him stunned and disoriented. The kobold cleric pulled her mace and dashed forward at the orb, yelling a high pitched battle cry, as the rogue's crossbow bolt flew past her head, making a gash in one of the eye stalks. The wizard's hands crackled with lightning as he paced toward the Spectator, grinning.
"You hide knowledge, instead of making use of it," he said, hands sparking with power. "But I'm willing to share a little."
Spectators are cousins to beholders, far less powerful, but still possessing the classic floating eye and accompanying eye stalks. They are summoned by a ritual that, upon completion, binds them to a location or service for 101 years, under their summoner. Spectators during this period are completely loyal to the summoner, and guard the item or location from all but their master with fierce determination. The flavor text also mentions that a spectator can be freed if it has fulfilled the time of service (although with the amount of adventurers pillaging around these days it's unlikely for these guys to survive long). With a bit of backstory in mind, let's take a look at how to roleplay these quirky beholderkin, then move on to their defense and combat tactics.
Ancient Guardians
Spectators are creature's of another plane, aberrations summoned to our word by a ritual involving four beholder eyestalks. The ritual consumes these stalks, and, appropriately, spectators have four additional eyes. Whoever completes the ritual becomes the spectator's master, and can choose to bind it to a location or an item for it's time of servitude. Generally this means that a spectator guards a chamber or certain magical location in a ruin like the one in Lost Mine of Phandelver, although a spectator bound to an item technically has the freedom to go wherever the item goes as part of it's contract. Whatever the case may be, a spectator doesn't part from the item, and furthermore, doesn't allow anyone other than it's master to go near it or enter the location it's guarding. This is pretty much the standard write up for conflict between adventurers and spectators, although there are plenty of ways to make it more interesting. For example, the item or location may be subject to change, or planar shifting, causing more spectators to appear, or trapping the spectator eternally, driving it mad. The text says that, despite a spectator's lawful neutral alignment, it despises other spectators, and seeks to destroy them on sight, something it shares with it's beholder cousins. This is an interesting twist, and can provide for some potential fun encounters if two spectator's territories overlap, or if one is summoned and is confronted by another. Spectators are interesting when compared to Beholders, as they tend to be more maniacal and devious, even unpredictable in their paranoia. However, spectators maintain a Lawful Neutral alignment (I've always felt that beholders, especially ones like the Xanathar, felt more chaotic than lawful, but maybe that's just me), and they stick to it! It's difficult not to when they're bound to a contract, but it is interesting how different the two really are. Spectators are certainly creatures bound by law and rules, not their own scheming or plans, while beholders are mad geniuses that would never let another creature rule them or tell them what to do. An interesting hook here might be for a beholder to invade spectator domains, convincing them to abandon their posts and serve it. This beholder might receive some pushback, depending on your ruling, but a creature as intelligent as it can surely come up with a plan on to trick or convince these beings to serve it instead (for more beholder advice, I recommend Volo's guide to monsters, as well as James Haeck's article How to Play a Beholder like a Paranoid Mastermind). On that note, is there really any way to convince a spectator to abandon it's duty? I mean, after all, they seem pretty honor bound to do it, and that 101-year time stamp doesn't hurt either! However, these are CR 3 monsters, and with no real resistance to being charmed and above average mental scores at best, I would say there are plenty of ways to distract, convince, and confuse spectators. Their natural state is to protect the object or location their master has ordered them to, but that can be changed. What it would be changed to is the interesting part. You see, spectators are very much creatures of work and habit. Without a job to do or a task to complete, they really are a shell of their true selves. They might turn to madness, seeking out magic items and locations with a crazed fascination, or even stalking (hehe) and seeking out magical creatures. The flavor text mentions that 101 years spent, generally, alone can have some weird effects on these creature's minds, and without even a job to do, they go even more mad. This could be a possible way beholders are created, an adult spectator that seeks out a way to perform the ritual again, but this time adding the additional eye stalks to itself, seeking the power beholder's possess, with a little bit of the madness already. That could be a fun plot hook for a group of adventurers, especially low level ones, tasked with stopping a spectator gone rogue from becoming a beholder.
Alien Minds
Spectators are aberrations, creatures that defy normal standards of biology, physics, and even time and space. As such, any spectator your player encounter on the material plane will be a visitor, a creature bound here by duty, but a visitor nonetheless. An alien, if you will. And despite being visitors, Spectators still have to work the mother of all night shifts, all in the same spot. The flavor text mentions that, due to the nature of their duty, many spectators develop quirks and oddities about their personalities. After all, 101 years spent alone probably produces some small glimmer of madness in any spectator's mind, despite still serving it's time. Being lawful neutral, spectators have a compulsion to their duty, and to fulfill it, but this feels more like a magical compulsion produced by a ritual rather than spectators just being natural servants (if so, could we maybe write that into demonic summoning rituals as well? cause those guys make terrible employees!). A spectator summoned to guard a room might develop multiple personalities by talking to itself, perhaps referring to itself in the third person! The flavor text also likens spectators to beholders in that they view themselves as the epitome of their kind, making them haughty and giving this sort of "holier-than-thou" feel to spectators, which makes for some fun roleplay with the players. Most spectators will probably come across as respectful, if not a little bit stern, and very blunt in regards to their duties. The spectator probably won't engage the players in prolonged conversation, although a crazed one might (After all, it's got no one to talk to for 101 years! Cut the thing a break!). Imagine how fun conversation with a mad spectator, albeit one still bound to guard it's location, would be! For a bit of extra comedy, I'd roleplay it like a disgruntled employee, a begrudging worker bound for a 101 year shift, who does their job out of compulsion, but still longs for freedom. A potential plot hook could be for the players to free the spectator, or to get rid of its master somehow. One thing that makes spectators interesting so often is what they are guarding, or why. Especially if it's master is dead or missing! That leaves all sorts of questions open to the party, especially as to the purpose of the object or chamber it's guarding. The object could seem meaningless, and the party may have to interrogate or investigate with the spectator to learn command words or ways to unlock the object. The only limit here is what your able to dream up for the spectator to guard.
Fighting like a Sentinel
Spectators are special in terms of combat, in that, 90% of the time, they don't get to choose their battle field, and they will usually fight to the death, unless instructed otherwise. After all, they've got a job to do! So let's break down what makes spectators interesting, and how they handle combat.
The Spectator as presented has across the board slightly above average stats, with an 8 in strength (cause it's a floating ball), but nothing too special otherwise. Spectators have an armor class of 14, about average for a level 3 monster, and decent hp to back it up. Spectators also have very high perception, as a creature with an enormous eyeball should, and telepathy out to 120 feet. Where the spectator really shines is in it's combat actions. It has 4 eye rays, of which it can fire up to two on a turn, two of which affect Wisdom, and two of which affect Constitution (this is a pretty good split, as most in the party are bound to have one or the other dumped). It also has the interesting Spell Reflection ability, which I'll cover in a minute. Let's see how it all fits together.
First of all, know that a spectator is most likely confined to one or two rooms. This is important, as most monsters either get to choose or at least leave their battlefield. However, a spectator knows it's territory well, and a smart (as any wizard capable of creating a spectator should be!) summoner will give it plenty of room and strategic advantage to work with. After all, a spectator isn't much use if it's confined to a 20x20 foot room. What does strategic advantage look like? A height advantage isn't bad to start with. A spectator can hover, but a ledge and maybe some pillars for half cover above the rest of the room help. A buffer magic item, that gives it better defense or chance to save on spells (you can choose or homebrew here) also wouldn't be bad. Traps are also extremely useful in a room with spectators, as anyone looking to hire a guard for a hundred years is likely taking some other steps to secure his stuff as well. The advantage for the spectator here is that it hovers, so pit traps and any traps activated by walking over it can simply glide above. Beyond that, the most important advantage you can give is knowing how to play a spectator in combat, so now let's move on to it's specific actions.
The Spectators Eye Ray actions are the star of the show so I'll cover that first. Bite is a plus one to hit and does minimal damage, and isn't worth even considering unless the target is already in melee and the eye rays aren't working. The Eye rays have a range out to 90 feet, and the spectator can move 30, so the room preferably has plenty of space for it to move in already. It wants to avoid melee as much as possible, because of it's weak defense and mediocre bite attack. The eye rays can be used two at a time, targeting up to two creatures, although I don't see why you couldn't target one creature twice. As I mentioned before, it has two rays that affect Constitution, and two that affect Wisdom, both scores that one member of the party at least is bound to have low. And at third level, their saves won't be all that high anyway. The constitution rays are a paralyzing ray, and a wounding ray, which, by the name, is the only one that does real damage. The paralyzing ray is a good combo attack, but you may need to sit on it until the spectator's second turn, which I'll explain in a minute. The other two rays are confusion and fear. Confusion can force a target to attack another nearby creature, and fear, well, makes them frightened. So let's take a look at some combos. It's generally best to mix and match with the ability score rays, targeting a low con creature, and a low wisdom creature. A good combo to try right at the beginning of combat is the confusion ray on a low wisdom fighter or barbarian, and then the paralyzing ray on a spellcaster, most likely a sorcerer or wizard. If it pays off, you can potentially force an attack on the wizard by the brute fighter, then scoring a crit because of paralyzed. Even if not, these rays will discombobulate the battlefield, and opens up a good attack for wounding ray, and then either another go with the first two rays, or a use of the fear ray. Fear is useful especially when the melee fighter is getting in too close for comfort (within 30 feet or more), and needs to be sent back to his place. As far as the annoying party spellcasters go, spectators have the quite fun Spell Reflect ability. Spell Reflect basically states that any time the spectator saves against a spell or a spell misses it, it can redirect the spell, forcing another creature to make the save or take the attack roll. This is a really fun ability, and shouldn't be neglected just because it's defensive. fire bolt coming you way? Throw it back at 'em! Pesky wizards need to learn not to mess with other people's stuff! As covered above, the vanilla spectator isn't that powerful against a party of level 3 or higher, but is a great boss for a level one or two party. After all, combat is not about killing your players, but adjusting the encounter so that everyone gets the most out of it (CR is really a suggestion, and a rough one at that). As I mentioned, a spectator doesn't flee combat, and fights to the death, but I suppose there are ways to bargain with it if it was completely overpowered by your players.
Spectators, although they may be the redheaded step-cousins to beholders, are still worth a play through once in a while, and are plenty of fun for a CR 3 monster. Enjoy, and also check out the other articles on this thread for more tips and tactics. Coming soon will be an article on Ghosts and the Mummy Lord. Take care!
Updog
The Mummy Lord article will be releasing soon. Beyond that I have a few other ideas but please let me know anything you all would like to see in upcoming articles and series. Npc's, monsters, creatures from any source. Thanks!
Updog
What about gnolls? They will be raiding a tabaxi village in my campaign soon.
Only spilt the party if you see something shiny.
Ariendela Sneakerson, Half-elf Rogue (8); Harmony Wolfsbane, Tiefling Bard (10); Agnomally, Gnomish Sorcerer (3); Breeze, Tabaxi Monk (8); Grace, Dragonborn Barbarian (7); DM, Homebrew- The Sequestered Lands/Underwater Explorers; Candlekeep
Sure! I'll give it a go. Gnolls definitely have an established place in D&D lore, and a very established backstory. It'll be interesting but I'll get working on it soon!
Updog
How to Play a Mummy Lord like a God of the Ancient Desert
The wizard archeologist drew closer to the tomb door, eyeing the inscription on the wall. His rogue companion stood by readily, glancing about nervously as if expecting the shadows to jump out and grab him. "The tomb of Seknet, god of the sands and storms," the wizard read aloud, tracing the words with his fingers.
"Jeez," the rogue muttered. "They really worshiped these guys as gods? He's dead right in there," he said pointing at the tomb door.
"Well, for one thing, I wouldn't be too sure about the dead part," the archeologist said, as he ran his hands over the door, searching for a point of access. "Additionally, the Hisaqq people believed in death merely as a stepping off point. The bodies of those honored were preserved in linen wrappings, sometimes marked with magical runes or placed with their most treasured belongings to take into the afterlife." he grunted, pushing against the door. "Steren, give me a hand with this," he gestured to their paladin escort, who stood, hand on his axe by the entry hall.
Steren stepped over and placed his hands over the door. "Very well," he said "But I'm not too keen on discovering what's on the other side of this thing."
The wizard sighed, and placed his hands by Sterens's. "Just push alright? On three, one... two.... THREE!" the two shoved, and the door gave, the stone slab slowly sliding open. Steren steadied Petrin, the archeologist as he almost fell over, carried by his momentum. "You alright there?" he asked. Petrin brushed the sand off his clothes, and gestured into the dungeon pass. "Fine. Shall we?"
Steren shrugged, and walked forward, his axe glowing to illuminate the chamber. Petrin raised an eyebrow at the rogue, who scoffed, but soon followed in. Inside was an enormous stone chamber, circular in shape, with walls covered in detailed paintings and hieroglyphics, depicting gods and mortals and animal headed creatures fighting brutally. In the center portrait was a depiction of a man, a pharaoh, with the gods on his left and the animal headed creatures on his right, with hands glowing white with energy. "Well well well," the rogue said, running his hands through his sandy hair. "Mr Pharaoh here certainly had a very high opinion of himself," gesturing to the middle portrait.
Steren stood, gazing at the display before him. "Most men in power, especially of his status do. Not too keen on meeting him, at any rate. Hopefully that bit about the afterlife didn't apply this time. What's the next step, Petrin?"
Petrin gazed at the floor, and began wiping away sand, revealing carved stone underneath, with hieroglyphs spiraling all around the room. "The next step, I believe," he said slowly, "is to utter the incantation, which will hopefully reveal the tomb." he began reading from his translation book, studying the floor carefully as he went.
"Wonderful," the rogue said with a roll of his eye, as he slouched in the sand. "Let's just grab the heart and get out of here, yeah?"
The floor began to shake and rumble as soon as he spoke, with Petrin finishing the final command word. The middle of the floor rumbled, and opened. Sand tumbled down into the opening, as a sarcophagus rose into the middle of the room. The coffin was ornately decorated in a similar fashion as the walls, but with gold and silver trimmings, and precious stones inlaid about it's rim. The face, presumably of the pharaoh Seknet, was molded where the corpses' face would be.
"That was... dramatic," said Steren, staring wide-eyed at the coffin. Petrin began to circle the box, searching for more runes or points of access. his hands began to glow as attempted to cast a divination spell on the tomb. He stopped short as the magic on his hands fizzled out, ending the spell. "What in the-'' he stopped as the sarcophagus burst open with an explosion of sand, and the sands in the room began to swirl in a whirlwind. A body lifted out of the tomb, a mummy wrapped in fine linens and golden armor. It raised its hands, and the sands began to swirl more violently, knocking the trio to their feet.
"YOU DISTURB MY REST!" the mummy lord bellowed, his voice echoing around the room seemingly from everywhere at once. The sands glowed with a golden energy as Seknet's eyes did. "I SHALL NOT LET MORTALS INTERFERE IN THE BUSINESS OF THE GODS, IN MY DIVINE WILL!!!" he roared as the room began to fill with more sand. Steren attempted to raise his glowing axe, but the mummy lord turned his dreadful gaze on the paladin, causing him to drop his weapon and cower on his knees, almost at instinct. Gold light exploded from the lord's chest, streaking towards the trio and pulling the life essence from their bodies. "THE DESERT BELONGS TO ME!" the Lord said, swirling the sands with the waving of his arms. "AND YOU SHALL BOW DOWN, OR FACE THE MIGHT OF A TRUE GOD!"
Mummy Lords are one of the most powerful creatures of their type in the Monster Manual, alongside the vampire warrior and spellcaster, and approaching the level of the Lich and the Death Knight, which I've already covered (see page 2 of this thread). Mummies and Mummy Lord's in DnD are unique in their creation based largely on cultural views of death and the afterlife, largely drawn (obviously) from Egyptian culture. However, you don't need to be an archeologist or even a historian to run a mummy lord, thankfully, but I'm also here to help with any backstory or roleplay issues you may have with these guys. As far as tactics go, mummy lords are true gods of the desert, possessing similar traits to the vanilla mummy, with plentiful additions, including magic resistance, high level spellcasting, and (in my opinion), some of the most fun and unique legendary actions in the game. So without further ado, let's unearth this tomb to uncover the secrets of the mummy lord!
Pharaohs from Times Past
Before I get too into the tactics and roleplay, I want to give a rundown of how mummies function in DnD, with a little bit of an Egyptian history lesson to give some context and explanation for their tactics. You might be tempted to skip this section, and of course you can read whatever you want, but I think this will provide some clarity as to how mummies function, give you some necessary backstory elements, and provide a good read and grasp of the culture that birthed mummies.
Mummies, especially those in Egyptian culture, were traditionally bodies preserved with chemicals, then wrapped with linens to cover and enhance the embalming process. The mummies in D&D are most obviously based on Egyptian mummies, especially in the way their flavor text describes. The Egyptian culture believed that death was merely a stepping-off point for the afterlife, and how you were prepared for death was thus very important. They would make sure the bodies were well-preserved for years in the afterlife, and would sometimes go as far to decorate or embalm them in special ways, such as inscribing hieroglyphics or other art on their linens. Some mummies were buried with prized possessions or other artifacts with the thought that they could carry them into the afterlife. The embalming process was, in the long term, supposed to prevent the body from rotting greatly, and those in charge of the process even went so far as to pickle the organs of the person they were embalming. Mummies in D&D are created when a dark priest (like a Death Cleric) or evil wizard imbues one of the embalmed corpses with necromantic energy, causing it to rise as an undead guardian under their control. The flavor text says that a mummy will "rest" staying around the area it was brought to undeath in, unless that area or an artifact in the area is disturbed. In D&D, the process of mummification seems more like a punishment, a seal that the person cursed as a mummy will never know true rest, even in death. The mummy's curse can be ended, in certain circumstances, although some are more difficult than others. Mummies make for fascinating backstory, and the curse that keeps them in undeath can be a great plot hook for adventurers to undo. Perhaps a desert explorer who crossed the wrong tomb at the wrong time hires the party to help him undo the curse or destroy the mummies that now seek to kill him. Undoing the curse can be a long process, and gives plenty of ideas for story and dungeons the players might have to delve to find an item or steal one. Mummies themselves are such interesting creatures in 5e, especially among undead, since they do have the rare ability to speak, which not many undead possess. As described in the flavor text, a mummy could be a rare repository of knowledge that the players could seek out, not necessarily just another obstacle in their way. Using a mummy as an NPC this way could be very interesting in a campaign, and would definitely serve to provoke some more interesting roleplay interactions. In roleplay, all mummies should feel as ancient as their bones, creatures cursed to be forever in between death and life. If the players can get one to talk, it's probably angry, and difficult to reason with, but might parley if they offer to help it.
The mummy Lord, on the other hand, is in a different league altogether. A mummy lord is an undead boss, created from the shriveled body of an ancient king or pharaoh in life, who returns in undeath by a similar ritual to the mummy, only enhanced. The body of a mummy lord, being that of a pharaoh or other ancient king, is adorned more conspicuously than that of a mummy. It's linens may be finer, more ornately decorated, and it's body is likely still coated in whatever armor or robes it wore around the time of it's death. The ritual required to raise a mummified body to that of a mummy lord takes on a darker form. Whatever undead priest or servant of the dark gods who undergoes the ritual must remove the shriveled heart from the mummy lord's body, preserving it in a limestone jar marked with hieroglyphics and symbols of power. Once the ritual is complete, this body rises as a Mummy Lord, an undead being far more capable and intelligent than a mummy, and with a temper to boot. Conclusion, you do not want to be the guy who woke Lord Pharaoh Ramses III from his eternal map.
Wrath of the Pharaoh
A Mummy Lord is a boss undead on the level of a vampire spellcaster or warrior, death tyrant, and approaching the CR of a Lich and death knight, which we've already covered (personally, it seems like the undeads are hogging all the high-CR boss monsters. Come on guys, spread the love around a little!). With that profile, the mummy lord has a big reputation, and a statblock to match, as we'll see in a minute. However, convincing your players that the mummy lord is a being on its way to godhood is more than just casting a 4th level guiding bolt at them (although that helps). The mummy lord shows its power in its presence. As demonstrated already, a mummy lord is an ancient being, not just an embalmed body, but the preserved legacy of an ancient king, returned to display its wrath and power once more. Mummy lords are summoned by a slightly more powerful ritual, which makes them stronger, badder, and more dangerous than the average mummy. That comes with an attitude, and 4000 years spent in a coffin doesn't help 'em either! At first glance, you need to primarily figure out what your mummy lord has returned to do, or who helped it return. It may be that it has been animated for some time, and is locked away in a dungeon deep beneath a desert waiting for its rest to be disturbed. It also may be that there is a death cult or dark god trying to raise a mummy lord for their own purposes. Whichever the case, I think it helps to have a bit of backstory to give your mummy lord some, well, backbone. This will help you develop the mummy lord as a creature with ambitions, desires, and goals, keys to making any good villain, and showing that it's not just another undead for your paladin to smack down on. A mummy lord's primary goal may vary depend on who raised it, but know that it still retains personality from its life as a pharaoh (or whatever role it served) for the most part. It's primarily used to being served, even in mortal life, having pretty much everyone around it bow to its every whim. In Egyptain culture, the pharaohs were actually thought to be gods, or at the very least, representatives of them. With a mummy lord as a former pharaoh, play into that aspect of it being very haughty and high and mighty around mortals. This overlord attitude still fuels the lord's ambition even more. If it's goal in returning is to complete a task or search out an item, it follows that goal with tenacity and ferocious might. It doesn't stop throwing minions or it's own might at a problem until it is destroyed. In that way, a mummy lord is very committed. Similar to what we talked about in the death knight article, a mummy lord is also extremely wrathful. After all, how would you feel if you returned to power after thousands of years only to find your kingdom is reduced to ashes and your followers are dead? A mummy lord sees all mortals as completely beneath it as a result, and gives no time or thought to their needs. Even if a cult raised it or seeks it's patronage, a mummy lord only accepts worship and total subservience from those who would follow it. It's the boss, and darn it, the pesky mortals better bow down, or else. Unlike the death knight, a mummy lord is always the top of the food chain, at least in its own view. The fact that it believes its a god and thus totally immortal is only reinforced by its rejuvenation feature. In all circumstances, the mummy lord is an angry boss. It's existence is fueled by rage and the sheer power it wields, and those two combined is a terrifying experience for any mortal in it's way.
[Tooltip Not Found]
Mummy Lord Interaction
Many high level undead present a terrifying presence wherever they go, and the Mummy Lord is no exception. A mummy lord has power, servants (mummies hanging around, zombies or other low level undead don't really fit the bill), and probably a great deal of wealth depending on where you put it. They've got power, and they're not afraid to flaunt it, and use it when necessary. A mummy lord's first impression of your party is most likely unimpressed. It is simply disconnected from the idea that any mortal is strong enough or great enough to beat it, or even challenge it. I'll talk about how this affects tactics in a minute, but know that your average (if you can call it that) mummy lord is not afraid of your party. It's bearing and nature as an ancient god causes it to speak in a haughty tone, arrogant and harsh, talking down to all who challenge it, and issuing commands to everyone it sees. Every sentence is an order, every reprimand, a death sentence. The mummy lord does not tolerate the foolishness of mortals, nor their incompetence. It has no moral issue with dealing out death as it sees fit, as it does believe itself to be final judge, jury, and executioner. It's attention and temporary mercy might be bought with frequent gifts and worship as well as faithful service and devotion to its cause. A mummy lord that seeks to rebuild its empire and promote its power might adorn servants who perform faithfully with extravagant wear such as gold and precious stones. As a being with a repository of knowledge lasting thousands of years, the mummy lord knows any caches or ancient sites where wealth or riches from its former empire might be stored, and seeks to restore the power of its empire in this way, even if wealth might be meaningless to it. The mummy lord's goal is still most likely to restore itself and its empire or seat of power to its former glory. However, these guys do tend to brag a bit. Remember that while its Wisdom and Charisma scores are quite high, the mummy Lord only has an 11 in intelligence, certainly more than a regular mummy, but not exactly what you think of for king-boss material. So its shrewd, with a lot of presence, and has a very intimidating persona, but it's not exactly the most tactical or patient when it comes to mortal affairs. It's still able to make mistakes, and bad judgements, and its flaw is that it refuses to see any other kind of reason. Characters can exploit this and use the mummy lord's ego and arrogance to their advantage, especially in making it underestimate them. And, once again, it only has an intelligence 11, so it can be tricked and confused and outmaneuvered. However, try too hard to sweet-talk the pharaoh, and you might find a swarm of locusts or the mummy's curse coming down on you like a flash of lightning in the desert.
Divine Destruction
A Mummy Lord, as we've discussed, is a being of supreme power, a god in it's own right, that lords its power over others, using it to submit mortals to its will. A Mummy Lord has some strong features already at first glance. It's an 11th level Cleric (the Monster Manual says 10th level, but Clerics don't gain a 6th level spell slot until level 11), it has, as I've already said, some of the most fun legendary actions in the game, a straight-up immunity to physical damage, as well as necrotic, and on top of that, a resistance to magical effects. It also has the rejuvenation feature because of the magical nature of it's heart, so you can't even kill the dang thing without some hefty fire damage. Conclusion? The mummy lord is not at all intimidated at first glance at your party. It believes itself to be the greatest of all beings, even in undeath, and lords that power over them. It takes a lot to frighten a mummy lord, or even to make it consider mortals a worthy threat. However, the mummy lord does have one fear that it shares with the vanilla mummy, and that fear is fire damage, in high quantities and in steady streams. The mummy lord may be a boss, but it is a glass cannon, perhaps the glassiest glass cannon for it's level. Remember that it does have an AC 17, decent for the level, but a staggeringly low 97 hp! Added to it's vulnerability to fire damage, the mummy lord requires a careful play style and some intelligent DM work to make all these features work together. And while it does have something to fear from pc's like paladins and wild fire druids, it also has the necessary toolkit to remove these divine pests from it's presence. It may have a regular 17 AC, but the mummy lord is equipped with a powerful legendary action toolkit that allows it to attack, blind, stun, and even negate healing in it's foes. It has the spellcaster starter toolkit to go toe-to-toe with some frontliners, and it's dreadful glare and rotting fist are nothing to sneeze at. Let's take a look at those spells first:
-For cantrips the mummy lord has [Tooltip Not Found] (only worthwhile to make it sound scarier or create another sensory effect to enforce it's presence), and sacred flame (meh).
-At first level the mummy lord has 4 slots with which to cast command, a Wisdom save with a charming effect, guiding bolt, a spell with solid damage for it's level that can be upcast (more on that in a minute), and shield of faith, a bonus action concentration spell that grants a temporary AC bonus.
-At second level we have hold person, which I've covered in a few articles now, a Wisdom saving throw spell that can also be upcast, silence, a concentration spell useful against verbal spellcasting (bards), and spiritual weapon, a bonus action damage spell.
-At third level the mummy lord can cast animate dead, fun, but not really combat applicable, and dispel magic, which I'll talk about in a minute.
-At fourth level we have divination, which is not combat useful, and guardian of faith, which deals some hefty damage on a Dex save. Keep in mind the mummy lord has three slots at this level.
-At 5th level we have the ever-annoying contagion, which can impose a number of crippling affects on a player, and uses an attack roll and a Con save to poison. The mummy Lord can also cast insect plague, a sphere that require concentration and imposes damage and difficult terrain.
-At 6th level we have the not at all generically named Harm, which deals MEGA necrotic damage on a failed or even successful save, and imposes another juicy affect.
Let's take a deeper look at those spells first, then move on to it's lair and legendary actions. Among the bosses in 5E, the mummy lord has a pretty solid spell list. As far as spells being non-combat-applicable, the only one that strikes me right away is divination, which I already mentioned. Animate dead is the only other throwaway, which I say only because it summons a CR 1/4 zombie or skeleton, which, based on the damage output of either, is not worth wasting one of the mummy lord's precious actions. Besides, if we're going thematically here, any mummy lord with its salt should have a few mummys hanging around it's lair (plus, they're also higher CR, so more appropriate for a 15th level boss). With that out of the way, let's talk about spiritual weapon, shield of faith and guiding bolt. Guiding bolt is a first level spell that deals 4d6 radiant damage, and grants the next attack roll against the hit creature advantage. While it's not worth upcasting super high, keep in mind that the mummy lord has a total of three third level spell slots, and has two of them pretty much open, assuming we're throwing animate dead out the window. At 3rd level, that's 6d6 radiant damage, not super high, but not half bad either. It doesn't upcast it beyond this, because, for one, the damage scaling in d6's ain't really worth it, and two, because it needs those higher level spell slots. With it's range and damage type, guiding bolt is pretty good for dealing with a flying spellcaster, or someone annoyingly out of the mummy lord's reach, like a dhampir with spider climb, or a monk that can dash around and avoid opportunity attacks. Not a spell to rely on, but don't forget it either. Spiritual weapon and Shield of faith are both bonus action spells dealing with some sort of illusory enhancement. Shield of faith provides a shimmering shield around you, granting a +2 to AC, but is concentration, so keep that in mind when casting a different spell like hold person. Spiritual weapon, on the other hand, is not concentration, is a bonus action, and can be moved up to 20 feet on a turn as a bonus action attack. Lower damage, but not bad, and the bonus action is nice. This is on you'll be using in combo with the mummy lord's multiattack feature, if you do. I mention these two together because the mummy Lord can have both going at once. I'll mention how it works in order, but since only shield of faith is concentration, this is a worthy combo if the mummy decides to go on the offensive a little bit. Up next worth mentioning are the almighty hold person and silence, both concentration (which means neither can be going at the same time, nor in tandem with shield of faith), and both imposing different crippling effects. I've covered hold person before in the death knight article (page 2), and here it is, again, highly worth upcasting, up to fourth level at the least, to tag three creatures. The more you target, the less likely they are to succeed the save, collectively that is. Silence is worth using to cast against a group of spellcasters that are annoying it, up to three at least, and most helpfully a bard, all within the 40 foot range. Dispel magic is useful when dealing with an ongoing or annoying spell affect, and the mummy lord keeps at least one slot for this at all times. Two is preferable, and it most likely won't be upcasting any of it's lower level spells (save maybe guiding bolt) to three. The mummy lord has three 4th level slots, two of which are open due to divination, but it keeps the one for guardian of faith! This is a very interesting spell that requires some careful reading and play style to use to it's full potential. When, cast, the spell summons an unmoving guardian that occupies a 10x10 foot space (being large) and imposes a Dex save on any creature that moves within the space, dealing out a flat 20 radiant damage on a fail, or half on a success. It poofs after dealing a total of 60, but know that that doesn't necessarily mean three straight attacks. Whatever damage it deals is subtracted from the 60 total, so even if it deals out 10 to a pc who succeeds the Dex save, it still has 50 left (if it deals three more attack, and they all miraculously succeed, drop 10 off one of them to even out the total). Just know that the guardian does not have hit points or ac, it simply stays until the job is done. What's more, there's technically no reason the spell can't stack, so you could theoretically cast it twice to get two guardians (although one slot is reserved for hold person, and thats a lot of actions to burn on these guys. You could have one already in the lair, guarding an entrance, since the duration is 8 hours). It's also not concentration, so it can be going at the same time as hold person or spiritual weapon. Next (I promise I'll finish) the mummy lord has contagion and insect plague. Contagion is a very weirdly worded spell, that seems somewhat underpowered to me (it is 5th level, it just takes 3 rounds to come into affect). If the mummy lord succeeds on a melee attack (with a +9, likely) the target will end up poisoned for 3 rounds, and suffer another crippling affect after. If combat has drug on for more than 4 rounds, and the mummy lord hasn't utterly smoted (past tense, see smite for more details) it's enemies, then it needs to rethink it's life (or death, rather). All in all not a bad spell, but should be cast immediately for the full effect. The mummy lord also has insect plague, which fills a 20 foot radius (just say 40 feet wide) sphere with biting insects, with a Con save. Not bad to blanket an area and stop those pesky monks from moving around too much, as it also causes difficult terrain in the radius. Finally, we come to HARM! the mummy lord's nuclear bang-bang 'hey I'm the boss' spell, which deals a whopping 14d6 necrotic damage, which is around 50 damage on average! And, if that wasn't enough for you, the targets hp maximum on a failed con save reduces by the damage taken! That's almost a 50 point reduction to your hp! I mean, sure it can be restored, but that forces one of the spellcasters to waste an action, and in the meantime, that's pretty brutal! But hey, that's how a mummy lord be. Whew! alright. now on to the proper order of combat.
A mummy lord in combat is similar to a lich in some ways, high level spellcasting, a decent melee attack, a wealth of legendary actions, and even a means of rejuvenating. Unlike a lich, a mummy lord is a bit more versatile in its action economy, in the sense of bonus actions and legendary actions. It also has the fine multiattack feature with it's dreadful glare and rotting fist, both of which impose some pretty crippling affects. Dreadful glare is an especially scary one if you have other mummies to back it up, making it harder to succeed on multiple saves. I like to flavor it with the linens wrapping the face dropping, like this: (You see the ancient linens around the mummy's face open, falling down to reveal, the harsh, rotted gaze of the undead creature. A crippling fear enshrouds you, draining all your feelings of calmness and safety. All you can think is to escape that horrible gaze... ). Along with the multiattack, spiritual weapon is a useful spell, to be used as a bonus action if you choose melee. There are three things to keep in mind for this combat. 1) the mummy lord is a glass cannon, and will get easily smashed by a paladin or wildfire druid (trust me I play a paladin). 2) the mummy lord punishes spellcasters pretty hard. Between its magic resistance, high saving throws in all of the big three except dex, but still with con and wisdom, which are incredibly useful, and its lair action, which might stop them from casting for a round altogether. 3) the mummy lord has a very versatile group of weapons at it's display, but using them can be difficult. To organize, think: what is bothering me? Is it a frontliner, with high ac and hit points, a spellcaster plinking me with fire damage from far away, or is it a monk or rogue avoiding my spell saves and dealing hit and run damage? If the frontliner, you're going to want to use spells like shield of faith and guardian of faith to defend yourself, and try to get 'em with you multiattack combo. Insect plague or hold person upcast is good for dealing with a group of spellcasters or just a large group in general, especially ones that will hurt from difficult terrain. Silence is also valid for dealing with spellcasters, and if there's one in particular bothering you, use harm. The best way to deal with a glass cannon is to smash it, and the mummy lord may be one, but it can deal with others as well. If you know one particular spellcaster is going to bother you, try going for contagion, as they are unlikely to make the Con save and will be weaker to affects like dreadful glare and rotting fist if they're poisoned. Starting in combat otherwise, Hold person (4th level), insect plague, and contagion are good openers, and convey the mummy lord's power and lordship very well. From there, depending on your problem, a Dreadful glare/Rotting fist multiattack ain't half bad, and hey, why not throw spiritual weapon into the mix? This multiattack will be more effective as you drop spell effects and other disabling conditions on your party, making them easier to hit and making it harder for them to save, so use discretion. Also keep in mind the mummy lord's defensive capabilites. Straight up immunity to non-magical physical damage, as well as necrotic and poison, immunity to a few conditions, noteworthy being charmed, frightened, and poisoned, which players are likely to impose with spells and affects (its also immune to paralyzed, which makes it basically immune to hold person). Let's now take a brief look at those legendary actions, and how they fit in to this madness. The mummy lord has 3 legendary action points, and has a wealth of very fun actions. I'll trust you to look up the statblock here, as I'll just give the names. Attack is useful for an extra bit of damage if someone is in range, or to cripple with its Glare. Blinding dust is situational but useful in melee with some more tanky players. Blasphemous word is also melee situational, but is very nice to stun some melee fighters with the bad word you just said. Channel negative energy is insane, but make use of it on the turns you have it. This is a nasty one to combo with harm, effectively stopping one creature from healing. Whirlwind of sand comes in handy in a tough spot, so use it wisely. How you combo these is up to you, they're all fairly situational, but work really well. Honestly, these are some of the best legendary actions in the game, and the mummy lord is a thoroughly well designed statblock. One final note, the mummy lord does have the Rejuvenation feature, similar to the lich's phylactery. So does it run away if stuff goes downhill? Well, the mummy lord does not have the lich's level of cunning or mastermind, and if this article should have taught you anything, it's that these guys are angry. The mummy lord doesn't back down until it destroys you, or until you destroy it.
In conclusion, thank you for reading. I know this one was veeeeeeery long, but I hope you enjoyed the rundown of the mummy lord, and that it makes you a better DM. Please enjoy, and comment with future ideas. Articles on Ghost and Gnoll coming soon. Have a good one!
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How to Play Gnolls like Rampaging Forces of Hunger
Tristan gazed intensely into the campfire, as howls and demonic shrieks pierced the night air to his back. Despite his human urge to display fear, and run into the cold night, far away from the camp and the all-consuming hunger, he stayed, his mind still slightly tainted by the ritual. He scarcely remembered the event now. It hung in the back of his mind, almost able to be grasped, and yet, always so far away. He remembered the link between his mind and the beasts, the onset of it's savage, raw emotions, and the feeling of savagery transferring to his mind. And... a hunger. A deep, all-devouring need to destroy and eat and kill. A pit, that, despite how often you filled it, would never be satiated. He shuddered at the thought of the dark presence, yet also felt strangely comforted at the same time. The ritual was beginning to affect him, as undoubtedly was his time in the gnoll camp. As he gazed at the fire, deep in thought, he heard the sound of footfalls in the snow, ones that didn't crunch as loud as those a human made, portraying a predatory nature. He turned to see one of the pack creatures, a short one, about five and a half feet tall, with matted grey fur and bones tied into its hair around its head and neck. The beasts claws and facial fur were caked with old blood, and it carried a small bone necklace in its right claw. The beast gestured at Tristan with it's paw, beckoning him to stand, and growling and grunting in words that were somehow both familiar and unfamiliar. The ritual again, linking his mind in the oddest of ways. Tristan pointed to himself then to the necklace, asking, "you want me to.." the creature nodded and shoved the necklace in his hand. Tristan observed the necklace, the brutal craftsmanship portraying gnoll hands at work. The necklace was a simple piece of leather, bound up with what looked like many finger bones, and with one piece of skin from a cow or goat, with a strange symbol on it. A maw of teeth, painted in red sigils, almost appearing to open and close before his eyes, despite being drawn on the piece. He donned the necklace then turned to the gnoll, which gestured with a paw for him to follow. Tristan tentatively followed the beast, wrapped in his cloak to beat off the snow that fell perpetually. As they trudged through the camp they passed groups of gnolls gathered around more fire, howling and fighting amongst themselves, some for food, others for sport. In his days at the gnoll camp, Tristan had been almost shocked at the complete lack of warning leading up to the gnoll's brutality, especially against each other. The beasts would attack and kill without any provocation, sparking fights all around the camp. Whichever gnoll won the brief melee seemed to gain a certain amount of respect from the others. At first Tristan was put off, and somewhat confused as to why the demon lord allowed them to fight so. As he had grown with them, he realized the necessity that only the strongest could truly survive to feed the greater hunger. The shrieks and howls of fights and the spoils being devoured echoed throughout the camp. Tristan started as he realized they were headed for the pack lord's tent. He spied several more cultists of his order gathered around the entrance, chanting in the guttural gnoll language praises to Yeenoghu. He stared straight ahead as he strode determinedly into the tent. He pulled up the canvas to enter under the crude leather tent, and inside found the pack lord, on a bed of furs, and next to him, Vieren, the cult leader. The gnoll lord gazed at Tristan, with an intense glare, it's mouth still open and panting like an animal, yet it's eyes portraying a bestial instinct and intelligence. Vieren presented a covered bowl to Tristan from behind himself, setting it between them. "What's in the bowl?" Tristan asked. Vieren shook his head, and gestured to it once more. "Eat," he said, "And your ritual will be complete." the words seemed to echo off at the end, and Tristan grabbed his head as a pounding noise, like tribal drums, pounded his brain. The chanting outside seemed to grow louder, and more guttural, mixing with the howls and growlings from outside. "Eat," Vieren commanded once again. Tristan came back into focus, and all he saw was red. His eyes locked on Vieren, his gaze turning dark. Vieren's eyes widened as he saw Tristan, and began to back up, but it was too late. Tristan fell on him, pounding him with his fists and nails. Vieren's screams echoed into the night, mixing with the hyena howls of the camp. The pack lord shrugged, and took the bowl, chewing on the contents. "The lord is fed once more," it said in the gnoll language. "Long live his hunger."
Gnolls are the hyena spawn of the Demon Lord Yeenoghu, the Beast of Butchery. Gnolls live up to that title as creatures born out of slaughter and chaos that live only to kill and eat. Gnolls are ruthless predators and raiders, and will destroy entire villages and feast for days on their spoils. Their endless appetite and rampaging reflect the nature of their master in the Abyss, and his never-ending hunger. Gnolls are simple minded creatures, and as creations of a demon lord, lack complicated tactics and intrigue. However, there's plenty of interesting lore and content surrounding gnolls in D&D, and still plenty worth examining and using in your campaign.
The Endless Hunger
The Demon Lord Yeenoghu is the lord of the gnoll species, having created them by causing the hyena's who fed on the wake of his carnage in the material plane to transform into humanoid hyena monstrosities that live to carry out his dark mission. Under Yeenoghu, gnolls ultimately seek to overrun the world with slaughter and chaos, eventually destroying it to sate the demon lord's hunger. All gnolls in life carry no other mission or desire besides their craving for destruction and violence. Gnolls are addicted to the bloodshed in a way, and become bloated and overcome with powerful, violent desires, which they can only sate by causing more carnage. Gnolls are not creatures of organized territory or settlement. Similar to orcs, they don't form functioning societies within traditional borders. Instead, they travel in war bands ( see also War Band, noun: a group of bards devoted to the college of heavy metal), a mobile force of destruction made up of gnolls and their armies that sweeps through an area of land, carving out carnage in it's wake. Unlike orcs, gnolls cannot change their inherent disposition towards death and violence, nor do they feel the need to. They are purely creature dominated by the desire to feed their greater master. Gnolls are constantly wandering, in a state of war with all outsiders, always ready for the fight they live for. Gnolls don't find value in possessions or objects of external value, such as gold, gems, or even complex tools. Everything external to a gnoll is measured in warlike terms. Can it be used as a weapon? To gnolls, most of their weapons are improvised anyway, so it's likely that they will simply take any tools they find and fashion them into weapon or take pieces to make weapon later. If it's something they don't understand how to use, or can't easily transport (like a ballista or a gun if your campaign uses them) then gnolls leave it to burn with everything else in their wake. Gnolls most likely find magic strange and terrifying, as it is a weapon they cannot use nor comprehend. Therefore, they fear and hate magic users, and magic items are just as likely to get burned with the rest of their spoils. Another question to ask when gnolls come across a human is "is this person an enemy?" Gnolls measure people either as food or fellow servants of Yeenoghu. Some cultists in desperation and a state of utter nihilism do turn to Yeenoghu, which I'll talk about more later. Otherwise, unless instructed by the pack lord, gnolls kill and eat those they come across. In any raid they perform, they leave no survivors behind, primarily to sate their hunger, but also to prevent word of their attacks from spreading. Especially in the moments after a successful attack, most gnolls are too caught up in the violence and adrenaline of the moment to recognize friend from foe, and may attack any humans on sight. You can illustrate the gnoll's extreme bloodlust and the carnage they leave by showing players the aftermath of a gnoll battle first. The leftovers alone are a sobering sight, even to a seasoned adventurer. The idea of a foe so forcibly committed to an idea that it doesn't even care if it dies, and lives to slaughter, only enhances the fear of your players. I like to remember Michael Caine's speech in the Dark Knight, speaking of the Joker.Like the Joker, Gnolls can't be bought, bullied, or reasoned with. They just want to watch the world burn (or get devoured, more likely). The hunger of yeenoghu reflects a gnolls motivation, and makes them even more terrifying, and seemingly unstoppable. Gnolls live off these ideals of strength and fear, using their intimidating presence as tools to make for easier prey. Remember, to a hammer, everything looks like a nail. To a gnoll, life is a constant state of war. All tools are weapons, all food is Yeenoghu's, all life is food.
Entering the Mind of a Gnoll
Inherently, Gnolls aren't complex creatures. While they are, for sure, a terrifying, intimidating force to be reckoned with, the intelligence of your average gnoll is only 6. They aren't complex, and they don't have overly complex techniques. Think very animalistic in your approach to these creatures. They may not have high intelligence, but their Wisdom is about average, and they do have that bestial instinct and cunning for sure. Gnolls attack like predators, albeit more savage ones motivated by intense fear and devotion to a demon lord. They always attack those weakest, oldest and sickest in a group first, as well as the wounded, and try to weaken as many in the group as they can before that. An easier target is a better target to a gnoll. After all, they may be stronger than the average human, but their real strength relies on their enemies weakness and fear of them. Gnoll society (if you can call it that) revolves a lot around this interplay between fear, strength, and devotion through hunger. In the same way gnolls consume food and the carnage of their battles with supernatural ferocity, the overpowering hunger and presence of Yeenoghu consumes their minds day by day. There really is no individual gnoll, not as they see it. Everything they eat is part of a collective, a great devouring by the conscious of Yeenoghu. And while they lack military coordination, all their actions are, in a bizarre way, linked inseparably by this hunger. A common complaint with gnolls is that, if they have an intelligence of 6, how on earth do they fashion armor and weapons? Especially when compared to creatures of equal lesser intelligence who haven't? Well for one thing, know that Gnolls are unique in the fact that their society is wholly devoted to violence, the ideal of causing harm to others (and then some). Like I said with the hammer-nail analogy, gnolls are so based on warfare that they can't help but make weapons out of the thing they see. If you think about it, this making weapons actually is a sign of a less advanced society rather than more advanced, in this case. Instead of using complex tools for their true purpose, a gnoll only sees fit to bash someones' head in with it. Their whole life is violence, so they think in terms of violence. The bow question is a little more warranted, that is, why can gnolls, very un-complex creatures, use bows? After all, it doesn't really seem like their style. Well, as I'll show in their tactics (and as graciously provided in Volo's guide) gnolls actually use bows a little bit strategically, firing from a distance first, to weaken and soften up their targets, then swiftly sending in the gnoll flesh gnawers and ground troops to overwhelm their enemies. I would rule that gnolls in my campaign can use bows, especially when enemies are far away, and there is no direct, easy path to them. You can rule it at your discretion though. On that note, gnolls are otherwise straightforward thinkers. Their plans of attack don't have to be complicated, as they almost always have the advantages of surprise, numbers, and fear on their side. What little intelligence they have grants that gnolls wouldn't attack a large, strong group directly (such as a well fortified city or a military convoy with large numbers and armaments). The territories and places they are more likely to hunt by a villages and tows out near wilderness and planes, where the war band can easily navigate and maneuver to attack, then flee to a new source of prey. Remember, the life of a gnoll is a constant cycle of violence. Attack, consume, replenish, rest, repeat.
Sidenote: Good gnolls?
The Gnolls I'm basing this article off of are, obviously, the classic D&D gnolls (at least the ones in 5E), those beasts that serve the demon lord and are dominated by evil. However, especially in homebrew and in your own circle, that's not to say there can't be good gnolls. For example, in my campaign I'm currently working on, gnolls are split about 70/30 good to evil. Yeenoghu was partly defeated long ago, and is now known as the Starving One, the demon lord who languishes in the pit, pining for the days when his hunger was daily filled. The remaining gnolls are either recluses, creatures now blessed with intelligence and good intentions, who stay away from most of society due to extreme stigma against their kind, or wild refugees, creatures with no purpose who only remember the days of slaughter under Yeenoghu, and who now wander purposeless, slaughtering without a cause or hunger to sate. You can do it any way, but know that gnolls who have deviated from the dark path of Yeenoghu (or who had no Yeenoghu in the first place) can be just as interesting.
Cult of Yeenoghu
As already mentioned already, the demon lord Yeenoghu plays quite a key role in gnoll society and culture, as well as in their everyday lives. Gnolls are devoted to Yeenoghu with a cultic, religious reverence, but also a fear. Although he has less of a presence on the material plane then he once did, the demon lord still spreads chaos to this day through his servants. One key belief and superstition of gnoll kind is that he communicates through omens and signs, especially those surrounding events of violence, and their aftermath. He might portray his will through a spattering of blood on a wall after a raid, perhaps translated by the band's pack lord or a gnoll fang of Yeenoghu. Yeenoghu manipulates and controls his followers in omens such as this, and maintains a startling presence on the material plane, despite his current prison. Many gods who are not physically present in the material world maintain their connection through dreams or telepathy, and Yeenoghu is certainly no exception to the rule. His presence in the mind of his cultists is perhaps the strongest of any demon lord. Yeenoghu loves to manipulate through fear, by seeping violent imagery and visions of destruction and bloodlust into the minds of those he seeks to draw to him. As with any demon-worshiping cult, those who flock to Yeenoghu are individuals already troubled of mind, those outcasts or pariahs of society who find solace only in what they believe to be a greater cause, serving the hunger of the demon lord. Those banished from large cities for heinous crimes (especially violent ones), those living in maybe already cannibalistic societies on the outskirts of the world, or even just those who struggle to find a place anywhere in society might join the service of the Hungering One. Human cultists here are more likely less concerned with gaining followers through the usual means of deception, corruption, and bribery, and are more likely to take what they can, mostly spreading their numbers wide and thin in outskirts villages, seeking to draw the weakest and most depraved away from the greater parts of civilization. These cultists are far less concerned with their own needs and with making a profit, and instead will manipulate through violent threat or even plain admittance as to their cause, then forcing others to comply. The manner of these cultists is often strange, as they walk the line between humanoid intelligence and the all-consuming urge of the demon lord to devour, kill, and resort to basic savagery. Their bearing is not too off-putting at first, almost unsettlingly calm, given the deeds they commit. These cultists fear no death, and there are no pretenders among their ranks. Those who join the cult of Yeenoghu live to feed and die.
Gnoll Battle Tactics
Despite their apparent savagery and lack of martial cunning, Gnolls do possess a certain level of strategy as the brutal predators that they are. They may be lacking in Intelligence, but they do have a bestial element to them and a motivation of hunger that, when combined with their complete lack of fear of death and uncompromising morals, makes for a terrifying force to oppose. Gnolls function on a battlefield similar to predator animals. They attack the weakest, oldest, and most vulnerable members of a large group first, trying to draw off those stronger into defense, then ganging up on them with superior numbers. Those targets that have been incapacitated or wounded critically the gnolls begin feasting on, eliminating the weakest prey automatically. Gnolls don't typically enter a battle where their enemie's numbers match or supersede their own, unless they are incredibly desperate, and haven't fed sufficiently in weeks. Gnolls always prefer the advantages of surprise, stealth, the cover of darkness if possible, and numbers. Their most likely targets of attack are small villages and towns that don't have a significant routine defense force, or slow moving convoys or wagon trains. They first try to position their gnoll hunters on high ground, with a good view of the area. They most likely disregard cover, not accounting for advanced spellcasters or trained enemy archers. They then surge around, spreading wide, but still clumping together to retain the advantage of numbers. They send gnoll flesh gnawers in, to weaken and speedily cripple their enemies, right after the archers have fired their first barrage. The arrows of gnoll hunters have a crippling affect that disables a hit creature's movement for a round. I like to flavor this as their arrows being so crude and having bits of jagged, sharp metal on the end, almost like a fish hook, to cause more pain to their targets. Then the war band swoops in, attacking and raiding left and right, swooping on the most obvious undefended targets, and ganging up on or shooting any guards they see from a distance. Gnolls use their bite attack often, giving the appearance of feasting mid-battle. If you wanted to highlight the fear of this technique, you can use this optional rule for any gnoll statblock, borrowed from the Bheur Hag:
Maddening Feast. 3 or more Gnolls feast on the corpse of an enemy within 5 feet of them that died within the past minute. Each creature within 30 feet of them must succeed on a DC 14 Wisdom saving throw or be frightened for 1 minute. A creature can repeat the saving throw at the end of each of it's turns, ending the effect on itself on a success.
If the battle becomes too fierce for the gnolls or they encounter obvious, overwhelming resistance (such as a group of trained archers, firing from a distance, spellcasters out of reach, or heavily armored tanking enemies) then they flee reluctantly, some taking the spoils of their battle with them in a desperate attempt to sate their hunger. Now I want to take a bit of a closer look at how gnolls individually perform in a battle.
Basic Gnoll. The Gnoll statblock as provided in the Monster Manual is a pretty basic skirmisher. High Strength and Dexterity, slightly above average Constitution, and low everything else, but Intelligence especially. They have a 15 AC, not bad for CR 1/2, and about average hit points. Their outstanding feature is Rampage, which works well with another large group of gnolls, and is less useful against PC's, where they are unlikely to be dropping left and right, and more useful against a large group of commoners that they can slaughter (it's a jerk move, but that's how gnolls do). If they are facing creatures like commoners, who have no visible armor or defense weapons (other than maybe a frying pan or a club), they go straight for the bite at close range, using the Rampage to their advantage. At a range, the common gnoll can use a bow and will likely serve as backup in the archery brigade of the war band. The spear attack, which the gnoll uses with two hands, is used to cripple and maim targets who look a bit stronger and more likely to survive the first hit. Any enemy like a Knight or other heavily armored foe the gnolls count on their hunters to disable with long bows (which, interestingly enough, is what longbows were originally used for in medieval times. The large, heavy arrow shafts were ideal for piercing the heavy armor of the knights on horseback at long range). If they have no skilled archers and a tough opponent gives them a lot of trouble, the gnolls swarm and attack that opponent, circling with their spears.
Gnoll Hunter. A Gnoll Hunter is a more stealthy, more perceptive gnoll with a crippling longbow. These gnolls have slightly higher intelligence, and use what little thye have to stay out of melee (due to their lower Ac) as much as they can, sniping with their longbows against the targets that look the most likely to hurt more gnolls in melee (unless they've already cast a spell, gnolls in general don't typically target the unarmored spellcaster like a heavy target. They assume he's a commoner and fight him like one until he casts something that screams "woah, back off" to them). A gnoll hunter will most likely enter melee when it runs out of arrows, or when they don't appear to be needed up top anymore, and their buddies are starting the feast without them.
Gnoll Flesh Gnawer. A Gnoll flesh gnawer is a speedy, stabby gnoll with abit higher Dex than the average gnoll, and wielding two shortswords in the place of a hunter's bow (I like the small thematic differences in the elements of a war band, which shows the players some diversity among even the average gnoll, even something as simple as wielding different weapons). These gnolls have a triple multiattack, which can be quite crippling to some low level pc's, and the ability to dash without provoking opportunity attacks. When combined with the Rampage feature, this gives the gnolls a sense of speedy destruction, a wave of demonic hyena surging through a camp, cutting down all those in their way. Flesh gnawers attack with a crazed brutality, and don't retreat unless something shakes them out of their bloodlust. This pretty much goes for all gnolls, as they believe they always have the advantage, and nothing to fear from their opponents. Those caught up in a battle that have already started feasting don't stop until they die or until all their enemies are defeated.
Gnoll Fang of Yeenoghu. The gnoll fang of Yeenoghu are exceptional fighters, blessed with a dark gift from Yeenoghu that gives them extra power, and the ability to create other gnolls (spooky!). They have lower AC than the typical gnoll (just barely), and much higher hit points, with a triple multiattack tacked on. They are actually classified as fiends, demonic spirits that come over a gnoll as a special gift from the demon lord himself. They purely use their bite and claws, giving them a sense of extra savagery and brutality from Yeenoghu. These guys are much smarter than your average gnoll, even than the pack lord, and use their cunning (and by that I mean flat average intelligence) to assess targets a little better, maybe directing the archers, and running with a small "honor guard" of gnolls around it, to shield it from enemy bows, and increase their numerical advantage. Gnoll Fangs of Yeenoghu have enough intelligence to know to Disengage when they retreat, instead of just Dashing away. A way to control a gnoll population is to destroy the source of new gnolls being created, that is, the Fangs. Players wanting to target those specifically might be rewarded by a good Insight or Perception check to see that these a maybe a bit bigger and taller than the average gnoll, with thicker arm muscles and more trophies to decorate them. Their claws and teeth also might appear longer and sharper.
Gnoll Pack Lord. Finally, we come to the gnoll pack lord. These are the boss gnolls, less powerful than a Fang of Yeenoghu, but still able to pack a punch. The punch they pack is a glaive, which functions in it's multiattack alongside the traditional bite and longbow (don't bother with the longbow). The pack lord has higher AC and hit points than the average gnoll, and the very interesting Incite Rampage feature, which allows it to give a gnoll that it can see a bonus attack reaction. Pretty cool! This gives the pack lord a sort of "director" position in the pack, a gnoll who can coordinate it's attacks with others. Other than that, these guys fight like a standard gnoll. They aren't likely to retreat, but if the pack's numbers have been reduced by a quarter or more, or they are facing some big armor or spellcasters, the pack lord leads the retreat away.
I hope you guys all enjoyed this article, I certainly did. Please share thoughts and maybe your own tactics as well as some monsters you'd like to see in this series. Thanks for reading, have a good one!
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Quick update, there will be an article on ghosts soon (there's your gnoll article @Undaunted :). After that, I plan to do some monsters from sources outside the Monster Manual. Let me know your favorites from Volo's guide, Van Richten's guide, Fizbans, or other books and I'll put my best spin on them. I've also thought about doing a series with brief encounter scenarios to put some of these tactics in context. Let me know your interest, and maybe some ways you'd like to see that done. It's a new year, and there's still plenty of content to cover..
Updog
Gho0styy - thank you for this series, it is really insightful and hopefully, as my campaigns develop, useful.
These are really well written, and I don't know if anyone at dndbeyond is watching this thread, but if they are...feel free to recommend that they get published as guides, or that you look to give Gho0styy a freelance role to add content for you :)
Well I don't know about all that but I appreciate the comment all the same. Glad to know there's steady readers out there. Anything interest you specifically/anything you'd like to see upcoming? Make a recommendation and I'll try to make the dream come true ;)
Updog
Thanks! First session with gnolls just went well!
Only spilt the party if you see something shiny.
Ariendela Sneakerson, Half-elf Rogue (8); Harmony Wolfsbane, Tiefling Bard (10); Agnomally, Gnomish Sorcerer (3); Breeze, Tabaxi Monk (8); Grace, Dragonborn Barbarian (7); DM, Homebrew- The Sequestered Lands/Underwater Explorers; Candlekeep
good! Gnolls are very fun to run
Updog
I know it's been a long time since i last posted, but I sincerely hope to get back to this thread in the near future, probably not with the regularity i used to, but I will still be posting content. I may be releasing some articles soon related to the new monster compendium, so keep an eye out for those, and give the posts some love. thanks
;)
Updog
Yay for more content!
Only spilt the party if you see something shiny.
Ariendela Sneakerson, Half-elf Rogue (8); Harmony Wolfsbane, Tiefling Bard (10); Agnomally, Gnomish Sorcerer (3); Breeze, Tabaxi Monk (8); Grace, Dragonborn Barbarian (7); DM, Homebrew- The Sequestered Lands/Underwater Explorers; Candlekeep