Time for another installment in the occasional "Trick Monster" series of monsters.
Some monsters have a limited-shot attack that is substantially better than normal. Their baseline attack might be strong enough, but their limited-shot attack will be much more powerful. Generally such an attack will have 1-5 uses. More than that and it's just an attack to be parsed out over a fight as needed. The lower the number of those attacks, the more like "trick" it will feel.
AD&D Dragons are a classic example of this "trick monster" - they have a 3-shot high-damage breath weapon (at least the evil ones do.) From my own Felltower campaign the Lord of Spite falls into this category (along with others) - he has a shout attack that he can't deploy that often, seemingly once per combat, but it's especially devastating.
Monsters which generally have a single ranged attack - a thrown weapon, say, or a crossbow they don't tend to reload - don't quite fit the bill. Nor do ones that have an attack with a cooldown or a pool of energy that can be deployed for other things. It's more like a low-maximum-use attack that does something out of the ordinary for the creature.
The fun of deploying these, to me, is that there is a short window in which you can kill or incapacitate them before they launch their best attack. After that, they're reduced threats. Do you let them get off the "nuke" and then leave them aside? Do you try to get them to run out their attacks in a wasteful manner, such as goading a dragon into breathing onto a well-protected isolated target to spare the rest of the group the damage? It makes for an interesting tactical choice once the PCs recognize these creatures for what they are.
I personally need to put a few more of these in to my campaign . . .
Showing posts with label tricks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tricks. Show all posts
Saturday, February 15, 2020
Saturday, August 16, 2014
Dungeon Trick Features: Spinners
Here is another one in a series on trick features from dungeons. Spinners are a trick feature I remember from video games, mostly, not face-to-face tabletop dungeons. But still, they're on my mind today.
Spinners turn you around, either in a specific direction (one facing change when you step on it) or randomly (1-4 facing changes when you step on it). Usually, in game, it would be accompanied by a second extra flicker of the vision box, letting you know something was up.
Wizardry: Proving Ground of the Mad Overlord had these in spades on one of the deeper levels. I explored only a tiny bit of that level once before I gave up. Some annoying spinners in Ultima IV are why I haven't really gone and finished the game. Well, that and not being able to save in dungeons, which is another issue unrelated to tabletop play.
Spinners seem to me to work as a map-confuser in a video game context. In other words, only where:
- all the corridors really look exactly alike. Not "all alike" but exactly alike.
- you have no recourse to chalk, string, remote observation (except from a mapping spell or (P)eering at a Gem)
- your whole party always fits in a 10' x 10' space - no stragglers or rear guards or scouts.
In a face-to-face game, what can a sudden physical or magical facing change do to you?
I'm thinking, not a lot.
Detection
Spinners would be fairly easy to detect, unless it's a total secret change with zero distortion or disorientation. In games with dwarven direction finding, Absolute Direction, and/or a party with a little bit of sense about markings and spacing out the marching order, the spinners will be pretty obvious even if they're no-disorientation magical turnings.
Usage
As map-confusers, spinners are probably not useful in the way video games used them. Spinning rooms - ones that magically/divinely turn around so Door A leads to Room B when you come in, but to Room C when you go out - are potentially much more useful and challenging. Those can confuse mapping and act as disorientation devices pretty easily, especially if they only activate once the doors are closed to prevent easy detection.
One possible use of spinners is tactical. For example, you can use spinning floor sections as part of a trick room, where the spin is totally obvious, potentially fatal (you lose balance and fall during combat), and/or combined with any of:
- flying monsters
- pit traps full of fatal stuff
- dangerous patches of nastiness.
In other words, reducing "spinner" to "unstable floor with facing change" would make it a useful challenge.
Overall
As a mapping confuser, outside of video games, I think spinners don't work. They assume too much about your limited choice of actions and your orientation and the sameness of the dungeon. If you want confused mapping, there are better ways to do it. For example, the direction-confusion from the Caves of Chaos works brilliantly in actual play.)
As potentially larger spinning rooms, they could work. As smaller tactical difficulties (fly or die rooms), they've got some real usage. As they existed back in video games, no, I don't think they work.
An entirely spinning dungeon is something else entirely, of course. That's a mapping challenge and a solving challenge, but it's not the same as those little spinner squares I'm talking about here. Not all that spins are spinners . . .
Spinners turn you around, either in a specific direction (one facing change when you step on it) or randomly (1-4 facing changes when you step on it). Usually, in game, it would be accompanied by a second extra flicker of the vision box, letting you know something was up.
Wizardry: Proving Ground of the Mad Overlord had these in spades on one of the deeper levels. I explored only a tiny bit of that level once before I gave up. Some annoying spinners in Ultima IV are why I haven't really gone and finished the game. Well, that and not being able to save in dungeons, which is another issue unrelated to tabletop play.
Spinners seem to me to work as a map-confuser in a video game context. In other words, only where:
- all the corridors really look exactly alike. Not "all alike" but exactly alike.
- you have no recourse to chalk, string, remote observation (except from a mapping spell or (P)eering at a Gem)
- your whole party always fits in a 10' x 10' space - no stragglers or rear guards or scouts.
In a face-to-face game, what can a sudden physical or magical facing change do to you?
I'm thinking, not a lot.
Detection
Spinners would be fairly easy to detect, unless it's a total secret change with zero distortion or disorientation. In games with dwarven direction finding, Absolute Direction, and/or a party with a little bit of sense about markings and spacing out the marching order, the spinners will be pretty obvious even if they're no-disorientation magical turnings.
Usage
As map-confusers, spinners are probably not useful in the way video games used them. Spinning rooms - ones that magically/divinely turn around so Door A leads to Room B when you come in, but to Room C when you go out - are potentially much more useful and challenging. Those can confuse mapping and act as disorientation devices pretty easily, especially if they only activate once the doors are closed to prevent easy detection.
One possible use of spinners is tactical. For example, you can use spinning floor sections as part of a trick room, where the spin is totally obvious, potentially fatal (you lose balance and fall during combat), and/or combined with any of:
- flying monsters
- pit traps full of fatal stuff
- dangerous patches of nastiness.
In other words, reducing "spinner" to "unstable floor with facing change" would make it a useful challenge.
Overall
As a mapping confuser, outside of video games, I think spinners don't work. They assume too much about your limited choice of actions and your orientation and the sameness of the dungeon. If you want confused mapping, there are better ways to do it. For example, the direction-confusion from the Caves of Chaos works brilliantly in actual play.)
As potentially larger spinning rooms, they could work. As smaller tactical difficulties (fly or die rooms), they've got some real usage. As they existed back in video games, no, I don't think they work.
An entirely spinning dungeon is something else entirely, of course. That's a mapping challenge and a solving challenge, but it's not the same as those little spinner squares I'm talking about here. Not all that spins are spinners . . .
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Dungeon Trick Features: Sloping Passages
One running joke in Erik Tenkar's running of the Castle of the Mad Archmage is "Is it a 5% slope?" The dungeon features some sloping passages, the kind that take you down levels of the dungeon. The use seems predicated on the old AD&D/white box D&D assumption that sloping passages are undetectable, and can lead players to accidentally go deeper than they think they are.
We run them as obvious to detect, something I agree with, and we cheerfully use them to go deeper and deeper into the dungeon.
So, sloping passages are a staple of dungeons going to back to the earliest days.
"Passage south "D" is a slanting corridor which will take them at least one level deeper, and if the slope is gentle enough even dwarves won't recognize it." - The Underworld & Wilderness Adventures, p. 5.
Detection
Is it hard to detect them?
AD&D and white-box D&D say yes - you need a dwarf, with their special sense for underground direction and depth, to detect them.
"Detect grade or slope in passage, upwards or downwards 75% probability (d4, score 1-3)" - Players Handbook, p. 16
I'd personally say no, it's pretty easy to notice a significant slope.
A wheelchair ramp maximum slope is 1:12, so it drops 1 foot vertically every 12 feet horizontally. A more slight 1 foot drop every 20 feet (1:20, or 5%) is still pretty significant. Less steep than an ADA-compliant wheelchair ramp, but not terribly so.
But if you've ever walked down a slightly sloped street or sidewalk, or stepped from a flat grade to a sloping grade, it's pretty easy to notice. Setting a treadmill to a 5% grade is really noticeble (more so down, than up, although it's a rare treadmill that'll let you do that.) You have to not be paying attention to really miss a sloping passage dropping down or going up. And if you're not sure, any liquid or a marble will prove it to you. One joke in my Dungeon Fantasy game is Gort, the dwarf, demonstrating the secrets of AD&D-ish dwarven special abilities. Sloping passage detector? He always has a clay marble and/or a plumb line. It's even easier to detect them if you're pushing or dragging something - it'll suddenly feel heavier.
So the old "so slight you don't notice" thing is tough, because you need a downslope so slight that the passage goes on for a very, very long distance. Take a very slight drop, say a 1 foot drop every 100 feet. To drop from a series of 10' tall rooms to a series 15' below it (giving a 5' thick ceiling) takes 1500 feet of tunnel.
Usage
If they're detectable, how do you use them?
You can use them like any stairs, really.
Pretty much, you need to give people a reason to go deeper. Harder challenges, more loot, or whatever. A lure is better than a trick, here.
You can also get cute and give out enough treasure that the PCs need wagons or sledges or wheelbarrows to move it. Valuable statues are a good choice. Carrying is a lot rougher than, say, taking a sloped passage. If that statue on level 1 actually fits on the pedestal on level 3, you'll get players eager to find and take sloping passages.
Using sloping passages makes it possible for rolling juggernauts, boulder traps, daleks, and slithering snakes to get around the dungeon. It's wheelchair accessible, so wheeled or rolling critters will get around better.
You can also get cute and make them chute-like: slick, low-friction, etc. This makes them more of an obstacle or decision point, since going down safely might be difficult, and getting back up is no longer a trivial act of turning around and going back.
Effect
Mostly, they act in practice as just a different way to change levels.
They do make for some mapping issues, of course, because it's not always clear when the "level change" occurs. That alone can make them a bit of fun - you know what to put down on paper, but it makes it a bit of a worry if you get all meta with "which level are we on, and what does that mean for monster level?"
Overall
I think sloping passages make a terrible trick, but they make perfect sense within a dungeon. They allow for some different monsters and gives an alternative to stairs, pits, and ladders for getting around.
We run them as obvious to detect, something I agree with, and we cheerfully use them to go deeper and deeper into the dungeon.
So, sloping passages are a staple of dungeons going to back to the earliest days.
"Passage south "D" is a slanting corridor which will take them at least one level deeper, and if the slope is gentle enough even dwarves won't recognize it." - The Underworld & Wilderness Adventures, p. 5.
Detection
Is it hard to detect them?
AD&D and white-box D&D say yes - you need a dwarf, with their special sense for underground direction and depth, to detect them.
"Detect grade or slope in passage, upwards or downwards 75% probability (d4, score 1-3)" - Players Handbook, p. 16
I'd personally say no, it's pretty easy to notice a significant slope.
A wheelchair ramp maximum slope is 1:12, so it drops 1 foot vertically every 12 feet horizontally. A more slight 1 foot drop every 20 feet (1:20, or 5%) is still pretty significant. Less steep than an ADA-compliant wheelchair ramp, but not terribly so.
But if you've ever walked down a slightly sloped street or sidewalk, or stepped from a flat grade to a sloping grade, it's pretty easy to notice. Setting a treadmill to a 5% grade is really noticeble (more so down, than up, although it's a rare treadmill that'll let you do that.) You have to not be paying attention to really miss a sloping passage dropping down or going up. And if you're not sure, any liquid or a marble will prove it to you. One joke in my Dungeon Fantasy game is Gort, the dwarf, demonstrating the secrets of AD&D-ish dwarven special abilities. Sloping passage detector? He always has a clay marble and/or a plumb line. It's even easier to detect them if you're pushing or dragging something - it'll suddenly feel heavier.
So the old "so slight you don't notice" thing is tough, because you need a downslope so slight that the passage goes on for a very, very long distance. Take a very slight drop, say a 1 foot drop every 100 feet. To drop from a series of 10' tall rooms to a series 15' below it (giving a 5' thick ceiling) takes 1500 feet of tunnel.
Usage
If they're detectable, how do you use them?
You can use them like any stairs, really.
Pretty much, you need to give people a reason to go deeper. Harder challenges, more loot, or whatever. A lure is better than a trick, here.
You can also get cute and give out enough treasure that the PCs need wagons or sledges or wheelbarrows to move it. Valuable statues are a good choice. Carrying is a lot rougher than, say, taking a sloped passage. If that statue on level 1 actually fits on the pedestal on level 3, you'll get players eager to find and take sloping passages.
Using sloping passages makes it possible for rolling juggernauts, boulder traps, daleks, and slithering snakes to get around the dungeon. It's wheelchair accessible, so wheeled or rolling critters will get around better.
You can also get cute and make them chute-like: slick, low-friction, etc. This makes them more of an obstacle or decision point, since going down safely might be difficult, and getting back up is no longer a trivial act of turning around and going back.
Effect
Mostly, they act in practice as just a different way to change levels.
They do make for some mapping issues, of course, because it's not always clear when the "level change" occurs. That alone can make them a bit of fun - you know what to put down on paper, but it makes it a bit of a worry if you get all meta with "which level are we on, and what does that mean for monster level?"
Overall
I think sloping passages make a terrible trick, but they make perfect sense within a dungeon. They allow for some different monsters and gives an alternative to stairs, pits, and ladders for getting around.
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
Dungeon of Signs talking Trick Monsters
I'm a big fan of "trick" monsters.
Over at Dungeon of Signs, Gus L did a nice list of special abilities that make a monster more than a straight-up fight:
Towards a Taxonomy of 'Trick' Monsters
Some of the abilities I wouldn't personally cal tricks so much as just special attacks - breath weapons are scary, for example, but don't feel like a sneaky trick to me any more than a bow and arrows is a trick weapon. Same with, say, a bear hug from an owlbear - it's just a jumped up melee follow. But it's a great list of special abilities, whether they are tricks or not.
The list is very D&D-centric, so a lot of the definitions aren't terribly generic (breath weapons as a HP-based attack, say), but even for GURPS it's a solid read and a useful resource.
Over at Dungeon of Signs, Gus L did a nice list of special abilities that make a monster more than a straight-up fight:
Towards a Taxonomy of 'Trick' Monsters
Some of the abilities I wouldn't personally cal tricks so much as just special attacks - breath weapons are scary, for example, but don't feel like a sneaky trick to me any more than a bow and arrows is a trick weapon. Same with, say, a bear hug from an owlbear - it's just a jumped up melee follow. But it's a great list of special abilities, whether they are tricks or not.
The list is very D&D-centric, so a lot of the definitions aren't terribly generic (breath weapons as a HP-based attack, say), but even for GURPS it's a solid read and a useful resource.
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Tricks: The Look Alike Monster
This is another in my series of posts looking at Trick Monsters - the ones that use some kind of interesting or surprising change that makes them a bit different than a straightforward monster encounter.
Some monsters look like other monsters.
The look-alike monster has the superficial appearance of another monster, either more dangerous or less dangerous. The goal here is to confuse the players into either underestimating a monster (and thus being taken by surprise by the threat) or overestimating the monster (and wasting resources or falling into some trap).
Usually the look-alike is paired with some other awful trait punish you for trying a tried-and-true tactic against a different monster. Sure, mummies are vulnerable to fire, but these mummies are fireproof (or worse, burn like torches for hours while they grapple you.) This looks like a normal skeleton, but it's a lich. Or even, it looks like a chest, floor, or ceiling, until you get a bit too close . . .
This is a bit different from a merely upgraded monster - a leader-type orc or a more powerful ghost or the troll king. Those usually have some defining trait to make them clearly a different monster. What I'm talking here is ones that are functionally identical; where what you see isn't what you get, and clues are an after-the-fact thing.
Some classics:
Gas Spore - looks like a Beholder, actually a flying bomb. This is a trick in two ways - if you engage it as if it was a beholder, you're probably wasting resources blasting it with everything you've got right the get-go. If you don't, you risk it getting close in and doing bad things to you. And either way, if it's too close when you successfully engage it, it will explode and possibly kill you.
Nilbog - Totally unfair monsters from the awesome-filled AD&D Fiend Folio. They look like goblins, but you can't kill them by hitting them. Oh, and you could end up losing your treasure from encountering them, too.
Shapeshifters - pretty much any shapeshifter monster falls under this, either because it's acting like it's not a monster (the Choke Brothers, Throttlers from my own game), or because it's taken the appearance of something weaker with a weakness the shapeshifter lacks (a werewolf in wolf form, say, unkillable without silver).
Reeks - from Yrth, these all look the same, but their powers range wildly from mildly caustic up to spell-casting (or possibly psionic.)
Variations
I'm not aware of any variations per se - once it doesn't look like the original monster it's not a look-alike. You do get a wide variation in what is different, though.
It's a Trap! - The exploding monsters, sticky versions of monsters, etc - the ones that make it bad to kill them.
I love silver! - some have different vulnerabilities. Looks like a werewolf, but it's not, so silver doesn't affect it - you need something else to bother it. Looks like a demon, but it isn't, so all that holy symbol waving gets you no where.
I come in peace! - friendly versions of monsters are there to show the cost to shoot-first policies. You know, the whole "we look like trolls, but we're peaceful gift-bearing travelers from the dimension of ----aaagh! Not fire! Aaaaa----what we could have taught you . . . " bit.
I'm a big fan of trick monsters, but I confess I use relatively few of these. Generally I prefer to give a clue - even a weak clue - that the monster is different. Or just use a different monster. But hey, gas spores. And I'm not saying my reeks can't be spellcasters or telepathic death slimes, just because they all look alike . . .
Some monsters look like other monsters.
The look-alike monster has the superficial appearance of another monster, either more dangerous or less dangerous. The goal here is to confuse the players into either underestimating a monster (and thus being taken by surprise by the threat) or overestimating the monster (and wasting resources or falling into some trap).
Usually the look-alike is paired with some other awful trait punish you for trying a tried-and-true tactic against a different monster. Sure, mummies are vulnerable to fire, but these mummies are fireproof (or worse, burn like torches for hours while they grapple you.) This looks like a normal skeleton, but it's a lich. Or even, it looks like a chest, floor, or ceiling, until you get a bit too close . . .
This is a bit different from a merely upgraded monster - a leader-type orc or a more powerful ghost or the troll king. Those usually have some defining trait to make them clearly a different monster. What I'm talking here is ones that are functionally identical; where what you see isn't what you get, and clues are an after-the-fact thing.
Some classics:
Gas Spore - looks like a Beholder, actually a flying bomb. This is a trick in two ways - if you engage it as if it was a beholder, you're probably wasting resources blasting it with everything you've got right the get-go. If you don't, you risk it getting close in and doing bad things to you. And either way, if it's too close when you successfully engage it, it will explode and possibly kill you.
Nilbog - Totally unfair monsters from the awesome-filled AD&D Fiend Folio. They look like goblins, but you can't kill them by hitting them. Oh, and you could end up losing your treasure from encountering them, too.
Shapeshifters - pretty much any shapeshifter monster falls under this, either because it's acting like it's not a monster (the Choke Brothers, Throttlers from my own game), or because it's taken the appearance of something weaker with a weakness the shapeshifter lacks (a werewolf in wolf form, say, unkillable without silver).
Reeks - from Yrth, these all look the same, but their powers range wildly from mildly caustic up to spell-casting (or possibly psionic.)
Variations
I'm not aware of any variations per se - once it doesn't look like the original monster it's not a look-alike. You do get a wide variation in what is different, though.
It's a Trap! - The exploding monsters, sticky versions of monsters, etc - the ones that make it bad to kill them.
I love silver! - some have different vulnerabilities. Looks like a werewolf, but it's not, so silver doesn't affect it - you need something else to bother it. Looks like a demon, but it isn't, so all that holy symbol waving gets you no where.
I come in peace! - friendly versions of monsters are there to show the cost to shoot-first policies. You know, the whole "we look like trolls, but we're peaceful gift-bearing travelers from the dimension of ----aaagh! Not fire! Aaaaa----what we could have taught you . . . " bit.
I'm a big fan of trick monsters, but I confess I use relatively few of these. Generally I prefer to give a clue - even a weak clue - that the monster is different. Or just use a different monster. But hey, gas spores. And I'm not saying my reeks can't be spellcasters or telepathic death slimes, just because they all look alike . . .
Thursday, November 7, 2013
Tricks: Unkillable Monster
Another in my series on trick monsters - today, it's the ones you just can't kill off. At least, not easily.
Some monsters are tough beyond toughness. They just can't be stopped through the traditional methods of the dungeon delver and monster hunter - straight-up damage. Fire and the sword might slow these monsters down, but it won't keep them down.
Unkillable Monsters
These monsters just won't die easily. Lay in some linament, because your sword arm is going to be sore before you're through.
But unkillable doesn't necessarily mean invulnerable, although it can - some of the magic creations in Glen Cook's Dread Empire series were literally invulnerable, and could only be carried off so the weren't a proximate threat.
Literally Unkillable
These monsters can't be killed. Ever. Period. Nothing will drop them, or if it does, they instantly and immediately get better, like some monstrous version of Madcap. A good example of this is Cthulhu. Nuke Cthulhu, ram a ship into his head, whatever - you're just buying some time. They come back Phoenix-like to avenge themselves.
They may not even be able to be harmed. This might be sheer strength - a Rolemaster Black Reaver, for example - that makes damaging it difficult to the point of futility. Or simple immunity to damage.
Using these is tricky - they need be limited in some way, or at least foil-able, or they're simply not fun as well as not fair.
Limited Vulnerability
Some monsters can be killed, but only through a specific Achilles' heel.
The Sword-Spirit in Dungeon Fantasy Monsters 1 is one of these - it is both tough and only killable with a specific type of weapon. Or a specific weapon. They're cursed and thus are only vulnerable to breaking the curse.
Trolls can only be killed with fire or acid, although I know some read D&D's rules as saying if you kill them before they start regenerating they are dead, dead, dead. Where is the fun in that? Require the fire, I say.
Vampires can survive almost anything but sunlight and holy water.
And where do you even start on Demi-Liches?
The trick with these monsters is finding out what can kill them, and then using that to finish them off. It can be as simple as "magic weapons" or "fire" or as complex and fiddly as "a sword of silver, thrust into its heart under the light of a blue moon." Pretty much any monster that is unstoppable until you find its weakness is a Limited Vulnerability Unkillable Monster.
Repeat Performance
Some monsters can be killed, often with anything that would kill a normal creature, but get well afterward.
Typically the threat isn't that the monster is unkillable so much as requires multiple killings.
Some might have Extra Life and just get back up. Liches might have spare bodies to move to, gods might only have material forms you can mess with - but you're merely pushing the problem to another day.
Dungeon Fantasy Monsters 1 also introduces the "Psycho Killer" prefix, which pretty much makes killing the monster an exile in deja vue. The Golem-Armor Swordsman from DF is the same - you have to kill them more than once to keep them from killing you.
The Lord of the Maze in my own version of the Caves of Chaos is an Unkillable Monster. You can put him down, and the PCs have done so, but he keeps coming back. They have theorized his magic spear and armor are cursed and keep bringing him back. Whatever the truth, simply applying damage to him until he stops coming isn't the answer.
Death Transformation
One nasty version of this kind of monster isn't a monster that refuses to die or just returns, but rather turns into something else. These monsters essentially use death as a morphing trigger to come back, usually in a stronger form.
This can be return as undead, physical transformation, or ascension into some higher form. While monsters can die and come back weaker, that risks them being irrelevant - if you could kill their "tough" form, who cares about the weak form? Having them come back stronger means that there is a resource-crunch. You need to kill them, but have enough in the tank to kill them again once they're tougher.
If they transform unless killed, you have a time-crunch instead.
I had some of these in my last campaign. Inspired by a the GURPS Knack Tattoo rules, I had a group of nasty orc assassin who were inscribed with a zombie ritual - so they'd come back from the dead, immediately, as a form of super-zombie. If the zombie was slain, well, they had a Skull Spirit tattoo, as well - and a ghostly assassin would come to avenge them on their slayer 24 hours later. Killing them ultimately was the solution, but their original form was perhaps their weakest one.
Unkillable monsters can be fun, although they can equally be frustrating. Some players won't spend a lot of time trying to find their vulnerability or seeing is a second crack will finish them off. They'll simply try to find some clever non-death solution (Entombment, say, or walling them into a room). Keep that in mind when you use them - they invite an indirect solution. This in and of itself can be pretty cool!
Okay folks, what Unkillable nuances and tricks did I miss? Many, I'm sure!
Some monsters are tough beyond toughness. They just can't be stopped through the traditional methods of the dungeon delver and monster hunter - straight-up damage. Fire and the sword might slow these monsters down, but it won't keep them down.
Unkillable Monsters
These monsters just won't die easily. Lay in some linament, because your sword arm is going to be sore before you're through.
But unkillable doesn't necessarily mean invulnerable, although it can - some of the magic creations in Glen Cook's Dread Empire series were literally invulnerable, and could only be carried off so the weren't a proximate threat.
Literally Unkillable
These monsters can't be killed. Ever. Period. Nothing will drop them, or if it does, they instantly and immediately get better, like some monstrous version of Madcap. A good example of this is Cthulhu. Nuke Cthulhu, ram a ship into his head, whatever - you're just buying some time. They come back Phoenix-like to avenge themselves.
They may not even be able to be harmed. This might be sheer strength - a Rolemaster Black Reaver, for example - that makes damaging it difficult to the point of futility. Or simple immunity to damage.
Using these is tricky - they need be limited in some way, or at least foil-able, or they're simply not fun as well as not fair.
Limited Vulnerability
Some monsters can be killed, but only through a specific Achilles' heel.
The Sword-Spirit in Dungeon Fantasy Monsters 1 is one of these - it is both tough and only killable with a specific type of weapon. Or a specific weapon. They're cursed and thus are only vulnerable to breaking the curse.
Trolls can only be killed with fire or acid, although I know some read D&D's rules as saying if you kill them before they start regenerating they are dead, dead, dead. Where is the fun in that? Require the fire, I say.
Vampires can survive almost anything but sunlight and holy water.
And where do you even start on Demi-Liches?
The trick with these monsters is finding out what can kill them, and then using that to finish them off. It can be as simple as "magic weapons" or "fire" or as complex and fiddly as "a sword of silver, thrust into its heart under the light of a blue moon." Pretty much any monster that is unstoppable until you find its weakness is a Limited Vulnerability Unkillable Monster.
Repeat Performance
Some monsters can be killed, often with anything that would kill a normal creature, but get well afterward.
Typically the threat isn't that the monster is unkillable so much as requires multiple killings.
Some might have Extra Life and just get back up. Liches might have spare bodies to move to, gods might only have material forms you can mess with - but you're merely pushing the problem to another day.
Dungeon Fantasy Monsters 1 also introduces the "Psycho Killer" prefix, which pretty much makes killing the monster an exile in deja vue. The Golem-Armor Swordsman from DF is the same - you have to kill them more than once to keep them from killing you.
The Lord of the Maze in my own version of the Caves of Chaos is an Unkillable Monster. You can put him down, and the PCs have done so, but he keeps coming back. They have theorized his magic spear and armor are cursed and keep bringing him back. Whatever the truth, simply applying damage to him until he stops coming isn't the answer.
Death Transformation
One nasty version of this kind of monster isn't a monster that refuses to die or just returns, but rather turns into something else. These monsters essentially use death as a morphing trigger to come back, usually in a stronger form.
This can be return as undead, physical transformation, or ascension into some higher form. While monsters can die and come back weaker, that risks them being irrelevant - if you could kill their "tough" form, who cares about the weak form? Having them come back stronger means that there is a resource-crunch. You need to kill them, but have enough in the tank to kill them again once they're tougher.
If they transform unless killed, you have a time-crunch instead.
I had some of these in my last campaign. Inspired by a the GURPS Knack Tattoo rules, I had a group of nasty orc assassin who were inscribed with a zombie ritual - so they'd come back from the dead, immediately, as a form of super-zombie. If the zombie was slain, well, they had a Skull Spirit tattoo, as well - and a ghostly assassin would come to avenge them on their slayer 24 hours later. Killing them ultimately was the solution, but their original form was perhaps their weakest one.
Unkillable monsters can be fun, although they can equally be frustrating. Some players won't spend a lot of time trying to find their vulnerability or seeing is a second crack will finish them off. They'll simply try to find some clever non-death solution (Entombment, say, or walling them into a room). Keep that in mind when you use them - they invite an indirect solution. This in and of itself can be pretty cool!
Okay folks, what Unkillable nuances and tricks did I miss? Many, I'm sure!
Monday, November 4, 2013
Tricks: The Exploding Monster
Bombs are bad enough.
Francois: Do you know what kind of a bomb it was?
Clouseau: The exploding kind.
- from The Pink Panther Strikes Again
It's even worse when it's the exploding kind of monster.
Deadly Death Throes
While I refer to them as "exploding monsters" not all of them explode. Some melt in puddles of acid and take your weapon with them, some turn to stone, some do some kind of death blossom when finished off. In any case, it makes dealing a death blow to the monster potentially fatal, even if non-fatal blows don't otherwise harm you.
These kind of monsters are pretty straightforward - attacking them is fine, but killing them causes them to death a horrible backlash against their killer, or at least against those that surround them. Usually this takes the form of blowing up like the monster was made of thermite and nitroglycerine instead of flesh and blood.
Fans of Hardcore Diablo II will think about beloved characters who hit the wrong Stygian Doll at the wrong time and then had to stare at the screen showing their dead character.
Why do they explode?
There are broadly two types of excuses for a monster that blows up - physiology, and magic.
Physiology is the old "it's a big ball of toxic/noxious/explosive/flammable gas" monster, or "it's made of unstable negative energy," or the old "its blood is combustible upon exposure to air."
Magic explains the rest. The demon explodes because, well, f--- you guys for killing it. The witch has a dying curse. The draconians dissolve into acid for no reason you can tell. More technologically you have "it has a self-destruct device inside of it" or "we've got explosives!" - which for all practical purposes will work exactly like magic.
Variations
Most of the variations of this I've seen, used, or thought up vary the death throes, and include:
- Exploding
- Exploding additional effects (napalm, fragmentation, cold)
- Curse - either as bad luck ("It's bad luck to kill a wizard." - Malak), a disease, or a straight-up supernatural unhappy but temporary doom.
- Pool of Acid/Slime/Puke/whatever
- Death Blossom/Retributive Strike (basically, attacks everyone in an area for a few turns before dying)
- Poison gas
You get a split between fratricidal and non-fratricidal death throes, too. Some exploding monsters set off their friend's death throes, causing a huge series of explosions. This can be handy if you get one and kill off the rest, but equally it can be disastrous if you're caught in the overlapping explosions.
Non-fratricidal monsters have a more limited damage range. On one hand, you won't get the overlapping explosions bit. On the other hand, you can't use clever tactics and positioning to dispose of a bunch of them at once. The GM can get more mileage out of fratricidal explosions than out of, say, fratricidal curses or turning into pools of dangerous acid or poison gas clouds.
Using Exploding Monsters
The decision between fratricidal and non-fratricidal, as well as the nature of the death throes/explosion, is critical.
For a GM, the difference affects how dangerous the monsters will be. If each and every Giant Gas Bladder Monster explodes and kills all that surround it, it'll be a quick encounter either way if the monsters all hang out in each other's blast radius. If they attack with more spacing, they might not be a big of a threat. PCs will benefit from tactics and ranged detonation tactics. On the other hand, monster might deliberately deploy exploding monsters to soften up the enemy - send in the Poppers and then follow them with your normal troopers. Hard on the exploding monsters, but their lifespan is short, anyway.
On the other hand, with non-fratricidal monsters (say, mummies with death curses), the GM doesn't need to worry about how they deploy beyond any normal tactics. They simply won't bother each other with their deaths. But the PCs might need to worry more - 10 mummies means 10 curses. Is it better to space that out, or have one guy deal 10 finishing blows and hope it's easier to de-curse him 10 times (if he lives . . . ) than spread out the effects? Or if it's damage, do you sacrifice one to save many, or try to spread out the damage?
In my personal experience, exploding monsters are a lot of fun - they add a lot of tension to encounters. Equally, players will moan about them but monsters that explode feel more fragile (and often are more fragile), since so much of the threat is tied up in their death throes. In GURPS, they're much less hardy (explode at -1xHP, instead of a chance of death and automatic death at -5xHP). You get that "fighting a glass cannon" deals it/can't take it feeling. It makes for a shorter but high-tension encounter.
Francois: Do you know what kind of a bomb it was?
Clouseau: The exploding kind.
- from The Pink Panther Strikes Again
It's even worse when it's the exploding kind of monster.
Deadly Death Throes
While I refer to them as "exploding monsters" not all of them explode. Some melt in puddles of acid and take your weapon with them, some turn to stone, some do some kind of death blossom when finished off. In any case, it makes dealing a death blow to the monster potentially fatal, even if non-fatal blows don't otherwise harm you.
These kind of monsters are pretty straightforward - attacking them is fine, but killing them causes them to death a horrible backlash against their killer, or at least against those that surround them. Usually this takes the form of blowing up like the monster was made of thermite and nitroglycerine instead of flesh and blood.
Fans of Hardcore Diablo II will think about beloved characters who hit the wrong Stygian Doll at the wrong time and then had to stare at the screen showing their dead character.
Why do they explode?
There are broadly two types of excuses for a monster that blows up - physiology, and magic.
Physiology is the old "it's a big ball of toxic/noxious/explosive/flammable gas" monster, or "it's made of unstable negative energy," or the old "its blood is combustible upon exposure to air."
Magic explains the rest. The demon explodes because, well, f--- you guys for killing it. The witch has a dying curse. The draconians dissolve into acid for no reason you can tell. More technologically you have "it has a self-destruct device inside of it" or "we've got explosives!" - which for all practical purposes will work exactly like magic.
Variations
Most of the variations of this I've seen, used, or thought up vary the death throes, and include:
- Exploding
- Exploding additional effects (napalm, fragmentation, cold)
- Curse - either as bad luck ("It's bad luck to kill a wizard." - Malak), a disease, or a straight-up supernatural unhappy but temporary doom.
- Pool of Acid/Slime/Puke/whatever
- Death Blossom/Retributive Strike (basically, attacks everyone in an area for a few turns before dying)
- Poison gas
You get a split between fratricidal and non-fratricidal death throes, too. Some exploding monsters set off their friend's death throes, causing a huge series of explosions. This can be handy if you get one and kill off the rest, but equally it can be disastrous if you're caught in the overlapping explosions.
Non-fratricidal monsters have a more limited damage range. On one hand, you won't get the overlapping explosions bit. On the other hand, you can't use clever tactics and positioning to dispose of a bunch of them at once. The GM can get more mileage out of fratricidal explosions than out of, say, fratricidal curses or turning into pools of dangerous acid or poison gas clouds.
Using Exploding Monsters
The decision between fratricidal and non-fratricidal, as well as the nature of the death throes/explosion, is critical.
For a GM, the difference affects how dangerous the monsters will be. If each and every Giant Gas Bladder Monster explodes and kills all that surround it, it'll be a quick encounter either way if the monsters all hang out in each other's blast radius. If they attack with more spacing, they might not be a big of a threat. PCs will benefit from tactics and ranged detonation tactics. On the other hand, monster might deliberately deploy exploding monsters to soften up the enemy - send in the Poppers and then follow them with your normal troopers. Hard on the exploding monsters, but their lifespan is short, anyway.
On the other hand, with non-fratricidal monsters (say, mummies with death curses), the GM doesn't need to worry about how they deploy beyond any normal tactics. They simply won't bother each other with their deaths. But the PCs might need to worry more - 10 mummies means 10 curses. Is it better to space that out, or have one guy deal 10 finishing blows and hope it's easier to de-curse him 10 times (if he lives . . . ) than spread out the effects? Or if it's damage, do you sacrifice one to save many, or try to spread out the damage?
In my personal experience, exploding monsters are a lot of fun - they add a lot of tension to encounters. Equally, players will moan about them but monsters that explode feel more fragile (and often are more fragile), since so much of the threat is tied up in their death throes. In GURPS, they're much less hardy (explode at -1xHP, instead of a chance of death and automatic death at -5xHP). You get that "fighting a glass cannon" deals it/can't take it feeling. It makes for a shorter but high-tension encounter.
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Tricks: The Load-Bearing Monster
This will be the first in what I expect will be a short series of posts dealing with "trick" encounters - monsters, treasures, and other things. The ones that have something up their sleeve that makes them a bit different than a normal monster encounter. Usually, because there is some clever unknown that preys on the expectations of the players and forces them into different decisions to deal with the monster.
There is an old trope of the movies - kill the boss, his fort falls. Why? Seems silly, and sometimes it clearly is the product of "it's in the script" but with no explanation. But it doesn't have to be silly. You can use this - with some different trappings - for a real treat in your own games.
Careful, That's A Load-Bearing Monster
The basic idea is, the health of the monsters holds up the dungeon. Dead monster, and the dungeon (or dungeon level, or sub-level, or section) collapses. The collapse can be gradual - like in the movies - or sudden and complete.
A dirty, rotten and pretty unfair trick is to do this with no warning. It's also not so productive - it's more gotcha than clever trick -"You acted like I've rewarded you for acting in this game, and now I'm punishing you for acting that way!" On the potentially lethal scale of "drop the world down around you" that's a bit much of a surprise.
Better, and more entertaining, is to let the PCs know that killing the monster will drop the dungeon down around them. The signal can be a shake every time the monster is injured in any way (or one of them is killed, if it's a group of monsters.) You could provide the information in the form of rumors, or Hidden Lore knowledge, of Area Knowledge. It might be written on the nearby dungeon walls. Or perhaps the monster itself will tell them ("Bwahaha! You cannot slay me or the tunnels will collapse and seal your dooooooooom!") It's a great time for a monologue, and they might even listen a little bit if they hear "Let me finish talking or you'll kill your own PCs with your lack of knowledge." Sometimes they won't care, but at least the information was out there.
You could use this concept to create monsters better foiled or avoided than destroyed, in order to get at their loot. If killing the monsters starts a countdown clock, it's better to loot first or you might have no chance to loot later. Putting a tempting bit of loot, protected by a load-bearing monster, presents a choice - take the risk for the loot, or the safer option of just killing it?
While you could do this with very tough monsters, it could provide a violent way out - beat it up, even really unload on it, as long as it doesn't die. A twist on it is a very fragile monster - one that's dangerous to the PCs but which is also extremely vulnerable to the PCs attacks. That makes any aggressive action against the monster(s) risky.
Why does it collapse? - Good question. Magic is the key here - something magical is keeping the level intact. This can be magic-magic ("a mad wizard did it!") or holy magic (the monster is a divine being, tasked with guarding something).
It can occur due to a specific Wish (when I drop, drop my freaking castle on the bastards that killed me!) or because the boss has built a who castle from magic held together with Wishes that won't last after you're gone - or that are sustained due to its personal magical power. These make great sense for mad wizards, mystic wish-granting creatures like djinni, or the like.
This can work very well with clearly magical levels - glowing hallways of pure force with a great treasure at the center, say, or magical dreamscapes inside the very mind of the monster (careful, damage the scenery too much trying to escape/find the loot and the monster dies, and you collapse with the dream), or shadow castles inhabited by shadow beings.
Variations:
There are a few ways to play this.
Speed of Collapse: The speed is important. A gradual drop means the PCs can flee, movie hero style, after defeating the bad guy. A quick drop means they're just crushed or trapped or killed if they push the monster too far and kill it.
Single Vs. Groups: Is it one monster you need to kill to drop it, or a group that must all be killed? Does each monster in the group drop a different section of the area in question?
Higher Stakes: One of the tidbits I like about the ancient Egyptians, besides signing the insides of the pyramids, is the concept/god of Ma'at - a sort of universal stability. Pharoah needs to be protected or this stability will be damaged - guarding the tomb is important because the stability of the universe is at stake. It's hard to imagine Valhalla holding up well if you whacked the gods, either. It doesn't need to be the question of a single level, it can be the question of an entire dungeon, entire region, or entire world.
It's rough to make a monster hold up the world and expect the PCs to deal with it without violence. But it can be the basis of an interesting reversal:
Save the Load-Bearing Monster! This is just a classic video game mission - protect the hapless NPC/captured enemy spaceship/base from waves of monsters. This just turns turns the MacGuffin into either a Local Load-Bearing Monster (dungeon falls on you!) or a Universal Load-Bearer (reality falls on you!) and the Universe is where the PCs keep all of their stuff.
Have you ever used a load-bearing monster? I haven't, yet, although I've placed a LBM in my dungeon. Either way, I see all sorts of possibilities . . .
There is an old trope of the movies - kill the boss, his fort falls. Why? Seems silly, and sometimes it clearly is the product of "it's in the script" but with no explanation. But it doesn't have to be silly. You can use this - with some different trappings - for a real treat in your own games.
Careful, That's A Load-Bearing Monster
The basic idea is, the health of the monsters holds up the dungeon. Dead monster, and the dungeon (or dungeon level, or sub-level, or section) collapses. The collapse can be gradual - like in the movies - or sudden and complete.
A dirty, rotten and pretty unfair trick is to do this with no warning. It's also not so productive - it's more gotcha than clever trick -"You acted like I've rewarded you for acting in this game, and now I'm punishing you for acting that way!" On the potentially lethal scale of "drop the world down around you" that's a bit much of a surprise.
Better, and more entertaining, is to let the PCs know that killing the monster will drop the dungeon down around them. The signal can be a shake every time the monster is injured in any way (or one of them is killed, if it's a group of monsters.) You could provide the information in the form of rumors, or Hidden Lore knowledge, of Area Knowledge. It might be written on the nearby dungeon walls. Or perhaps the monster itself will tell them ("Bwahaha! You cannot slay me or the tunnels will collapse and seal your dooooooooom!") It's a great time for a monologue, and they might even listen a little bit if they hear "Let me finish talking or you'll kill your own PCs with your lack of knowledge." Sometimes they won't care, but at least the information was out there.
You could use this concept to create monsters better foiled or avoided than destroyed, in order to get at their loot. If killing the monsters starts a countdown clock, it's better to loot first or you might have no chance to loot later. Putting a tempting bit of loot, protected by a load-bearing monster, presents a choice - take the risk for the loot, or the safer option of just killing it?
While you could do this with very tough monsters, it could provide a violent way out - beat it up, even really unload on it, as long as it doesn't die. A twist on it is a very fragile monster - one that's dangerous to the PCs but which is also extremely vulnerable to the PCs attacks. That makes any aggressive action against the monster(s) risky.
Why does it collapse? - Good question. Magic is the key here - something magical is keeping the level intact. This can be magic-magic ("a mad wizard did it!") or holy magic (the monster is a divine being, tasked with guarding something).
It can occur due to a specific Wish (when I drop, drop my freaking castle on the bastards that killed me!) or because the boss has built a who castle from magic held together with Wishes that won't last after you're gone - or that are sustained due to its personal magical power. These make great sense for mad wizards, mystic wish-granting creatures like djinni, or the like.
This can work very well with clearly magical levels - glowing hallways of pure force with a great treasure at the center, say, or magical dreamscapes inside the very mind of the monster (careful, damage the scenery too much trying to escape/find the loot and the monster dies, and you collapse with the dream), or shadow castles inhabited by shadow beings.
Variations:
There are a few ways to play this.
Speed of Collapse: The speed is important. A gradual drop means the PCs can flee, movie hero style, after defeating the bad guy. A quick drop means they're just crushed or trapped or killed if they push the monster too far and kill it.
Single Vs. Groups: Is it one monster you need to kill to drop it, or a group that must all be killed? Does each monster in the group drop a different section of the area in question?
Higher Stakes: One of the tidbits I like about the ancient Egyptians, besides signing the insides of the pyramids, is the concept/god of Ma'at - a sort of universal stability. Pharoah needs to be protected or this stability will be damaged - guarding the tomb is important because the stability of the universe is at stake. It's hard to imagine Valhalla holding up well if you whacked the gods, either. It doesn't need to be the question of a single level, it can be the question of an entire dungeon, entire region, or entire world.
It's rough to make a monster hold up the world and expect the PCs to deal with it without violence. But it can be the basis of an interesting reversal:
Save the Load-Bearing Monster! This is just a classic video game mission - protect the hapless NPC/captured enemy spaceship/base from waves of monsters. This just turns turns the MacGuffin into either a Local Load-Bearing Monster (dungeon falls on you!) or a Universal Load-Bearer (reality falls on you!) and the Universe is where the PCs keep all of their stuff.
Have you ever used a load-bearing monster? I haven't, yet, although I've placed a LBM in my dungeon. Either way, I see all sorts of possibilities . . .
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