Monstrous and ordinary

Let's talk about how to make a new type of monster out of an ordinary creature.

Monster is a fuzzy concept, but for now, we could do worse than assuming a monster is:

• an animal — A virus or an earthquake might be scary, but they don't feel like monsters.
• somewhat intelligent — If you can ascribe malice to a creature's actions, its deeds become villainous, not merely dangerous.
• feared for a reason — It has to actually be harmful to people for it to be a monster, something that's dangerous and hard to defeat.

I like starting with a creature people are already familiar with; not something fantastical, but something completely mundane, something you might have experience with yourself.  Instead of starting with an orc or a dragon, let's start with something simple: a crow.  (I'm assuming you have crows where you live.)

(Sue Coleman)

(You might also enjoy an earlier post on generating random creatures.)

Theme

What are crows associated with?  What do they feel like?  What kinds of stories do people tell about them?

Monstrous versions of regular creatures should probably stick to the same theme, amplifying and extending what those creatures feel like.  Using theme from the real world lets you build on your audience's preconceptions, on stories they've heard and ideas in the culture around them.

So what theme do crows go with?  Night, death, and trickery come to mind.  If you know stories about a creature, use them when you make a monstrous version of it.

crow from Resident Evil concept art

Characteristics

Crows have two out of the three monstrous characteristics already: they're fairly intelligent animals, but they aren't really feared by anyone.  Let's take a look at characteristics of crows and see what we find:

• intelligent, good at solving problems and making simple tools
• raucous, noisy, calling out to each other
• collect trinkets and shiny things
• daring, stealing tail feathers from eagles just to show off
• skittish, quick to flee from unexpected danger
• feed on just about everything, from carrion to small animals to grain

 

Haida raven (Bill Reid)

For each one of these bullet points, let's dial it up until we get something scary.

• The monstrous crow is intelligent, more so than any other animal.  They know how to make tools, pick locks, get into doors and closed rooms.

Not too scary by itself, but if these crow-like creatures are dangerous, you certainly wouldn't want them picking locks.

• They make noise to call for their friends and coordinate their actions.  They call for other dangerous creatures to arrive.  Things that gnaw bone and sip blood show up when monstrous crows cry out.
• They collect...how is collecting things supposed to be scary?  Maybe it's what they collect: skulls of creatures they've killed, deadly poisons, sharp blades.  Maybe it's how they collect them: taken from their living victims, mementos of people they've killed.  Maybe it's what they do with their trinkets: bait to lure in children, valuables to trade for...murderous stuff?

Using trinkets as bait fits well with their theme of trickery.

• They're not afraid of anyone.  Make some noise and throw things, and they'll fly off for a while.  But they're only tempted and angered when you chase them away.  Throw rocks at them and they'll come back for you one day.  Monstrous crows live for the daring assault on a prideful victim.
• They're always watchful.  It's very hard to sneak up on them, as they're always looking over their shoulders and stopping to listen for sounds.  At the first sign of danger, they flee to watch from a safe distance.  (This isn't scary yet, so let's dial it up a bit further.)  They listen for every sound, knowing when your heart is beating a bit faster, when you've cocked the hammer back on your gun.  They pay attention to everything around and are constantly thinking about plans for escaping danger.
• They eat everything, but most importantly they eat people.  Individual crows are pretty small and weak to take down a person, but we know these ones work as a team and use tools, so if they're hungry, they can certainly take down a human.

It sounds like we're getting to something scary here.  Glossy black birds that watch from the trees at night, watching for lone people to kill.  They call out for their cohort when they find a target, and by the time you know they're around, they've already been watching you, observing every move you make.  And when they decide to strike, they'll come at you from all around, eat your flesh, then each take a little trinket of you as they fly away.

Signs

The best monsters don't just pop up out of nowhere.  Tension and fear build up as protagonists stumble across signs of the monster's presence, signs that they too could become its prey.

Some signs of these monstrous crows: trinkets of the dead used to lure people in, cawing to call for the others once you're already alone and deep in the woods, footprints of scavengers that take the bones from crow kills, leftovers from previous prey (bones cracked open, possessions with all the shiny pieces stripped off).

Consider signs of a monster from its footprints, voice, remnants of its food, things it plays with.

Monsters also end up with rumors about them.  The local people tell stories that are mostly true, or at least based on a kernel of truth, but with exaggerations and shortcomings.  Rumors about a monster should probably stick to the themes of the creature.

Inaccurate rumors about monstrous crows: that they can see in the dark, that they're afraid of light, that the sound of creaking branches is actually them, that any small discarded item you find is bait by the crows.

Vulnerability

Every monster is vulnerable in some way.  It could be a single spot, like Smaug's missing scale (or Achilles' heel, I guess), or it could be something less substantial, like greed or self-loathing.

My favorite method is to draw the monster's vulnerability from the same characteristics that make it scary.  Considering attributes of the crow, let's pick one or two as vulnerabilities:

• collect trinkets
• daring

These crows are intelligent and cautious, but they can be lured into making mistakes if the trinket is alluring enough.  So what do they like enough to risk their lives for?  I'm guessing shiny, round objects, tools that help them get food, unobtainable mementos of dangerous creatures. 

More monsters!

Here are a few more monstrous versions of ordinary creatures you might enjoy:

• Raccoons — They grab their prey with their dexterous hands, then drown their prey in streams.  They're much larger than ordinary raccoons, strong enough to grab a person and hold them under the water.  They ought to be more concerned by the presence of other creatures, but they're not.
• Skunks — They spray a terrible noxious fluid that causes sickness and death, and also stains your skin.  They seem like they'd be cute and friendly, but they'll spray you, wait for you to die, then nibble on your corpse.  They're overly reliant on their spray for defense, so any creature that's immune to it has a major advantage.
• Porcupines — They can shoot their barbed quills quite some distance.  They can climb just about anywhere, waiting patiently to strike when people come too close.  Their bellies are soft and vulnerable.
• Buffalo — Thundering giants of muscle and horn, they get together as a group and run through buildings and fields, trampling people to death and destroying their livelihood.  They flatten whole villages that encroach on their territory.  They're prone to panic, though, if too many buffalo in the group become frightened.

 

raccoon washing cell phone

The Dead-Faces; or, how legendary Creatures drive adventure

Tall, shadowy figures that peer out of the woods at night, snatch up children, and stamp out fires.  Just a local legend or a real danger of the North?

(Michael Morris, Watcher of the Forest)

Dead-Faces (or yagira-skot) are one of the many rumored creatures of the Northern Lands.  In any given campaign, they might exist or they might not.  Spread rumors, but keep the truth lurking just out of sight.

Semi-legendary creatures like these are good for a number of reasons.

• journey
• discovery
• danger
• superstition

Journey

Signs in the Wilderness is about a great wilderness to explore, a poorly-charted land to travel through.  But to make travel feel meaningful, different lands have to actually feel different.  Local legends like the Loch Ness monster or the Jersey devil are particular to their own regions.  If this country here is said to be safe for travel, yet that country there has eyes in the woods, here and there are two very different places.

The Dead-Faces are only said to exist in the oak forests in the country west of the Flint Hills.  It's a region of winding creeks and plenty of deer, a good place for hunting and traveling.  The humans and goblins of the region believe in Dead-Faces and are careful not to cross them.

Down by the coast, the elves have recorded hundreds of rumors from the people indigenous to the North, but they don't believe most of them.  The elves are sure that these creatures are just a story made up to frighten children and foolish travelers.

(Romi Volentino, Forest Ghost)

Discovery

Legendary creatures can also lead to the thrill of discovery, if you manage to find them.  The moment the party first finds proof that these creatures exist, they've been granted entry into a sanctum of secret knowledge, becoming more accomplished explorers, more knowledgable of the world they dwell in.  Discovery is one of the many kinds of fun roleplaying games can provide.

They say the Dead-Faces are tall beings that sway in the wind, like robes draped over branches.  They might be twenty feet tall, or they might be fifty (6-15 m).  Their faces are blank and uniform, save for their sparkling eyes.  Everyone agrees that you never see one of the Faces at a time, but that they huddle in groups, peering out of the trees.  Then again, you never seem to find anyone who's actually seen them, but everybody seems to know someone who knows someone who has.

Dead-Faces leave footprints that are perfectly round and quite small, like the end of a staff pressed into the soil.  They never speak to people, but they can sometimes be heard whispering to each other in the night.

(Lautrec Winifred, Enoch)

Danger

The threat of danger, of course, is great at driving adventure.  To make these legendary creatures truly matter, they're going to need to affect the party, and threatening their safety is a direct way to do that.

Dead-Faces don't like noise and light, so if you think they're nearby, you should quietly put out your fire and head the other way.  People stay away from places they believe to be inhabited by them, leaving out gifts of pine nuts and acorn flour to appease them.

When people talk about how dangerous the Dead-Faces are, they don't talk of immediate danger.  Fire at the Dead-Faces and they quickly slink away into the night, vanishing somewhere in the shadows.  But their vengeance is certain (or so they say), coming when you're not watching to poison your food and watch quietly from the woods as your village starves to death.  Children and livestock alike disappear into the woods when the Dead-Faces' anger has been aroused.

(Reddit u/Carlen67)

Superstition

In many fantasy games, the players can look up all the monsters in the book and find out exactly what they're like.  And there's no question as to whether they exist — when you hear about orcs causing trouble in the hills, you don't ask yourself if orcs are even real.

That's a fine way to play, but sometimes I'm looking for a bit more mystery in the world.  Semi-legendary creatures might exist, but they might not.  Rumors and legends certainly abound, just like in our own world, of creatures that probably aren't real.  But if these creatures might actually be real, it's prudent to listen to the warnings and protect yourself the way the locals do.

The result is a bunch of superstitious PCs, tossing salt over their shoulder and closing umbrellas indoors, because even though the players know each rumor has a good chance of being false, it's better to be safe than sorry.

If the people around here tell stories of the Dead-Faces, roll for two rumors on the table below.  The first is the truth.  The second is a grave misunderstanding that's only partly true.

Rumors (d20)
1	Their appearance is a sign of hungry days ahead. They're mostly seen after the last harvest in the fall and before the snow melts in the spring.
2	They're creatures of shadow, without real bodies like yours and mine. They emerge from shadow at night and dissipate in the morning.
3	They're dead, made from the spirits of those who died alone in the woods. They can't be harmed, but they always stay near their old bones, hoping for proper funeral rites.
4	Before daylight comes they go down and fold up into holes in the ground. You do not want to wake them.
5	They won't cross human boundaries, like walls and fences, but you'd better not cross their boundaries in the woods.
6	They eat birds and bats that they pluck out of the air, crunching up their bones, but they never eat creatures from the ground.
7	They only come out on dark nights: during the new moon or under cloudy skies.
8	Their touch will leave you blind for days.
9	They leave food behind as a gift: nuts and broken birds.
10	Their eyes are glittering gems that the elves will pay handsomely for.
11-20	Dead-Faces aren't real, just misunderstood sightings of something benign.

rumors
true
grave misunderstanding

Make sure they stay dead

It's a familiar tale: live, die, get buried, crawl back out of your grave.  Just about every culture has stories of malevolent undead.

In a world where the undead are real, people will eventually find a way to stop the dead from rising (if it can be done at all).  Choose one or two methods that work:

How to prevent the undead (d10)
1	Burn the body so no part remains.
2	Remove an essential part of the body (eyes, heart, teeth, head) so the undead can't act.
3	Stab/cut the body to release the spirit.
4	Feed the body to carrion beasts (or eat it yourselves) so its potency is divided up.
5	Have a ceremony to make sure the dead person has no reason to come back (releasing them from debts/obligations, banishing them from the community, promising to make grave offerings).
6	Bury the body under a large stone or deep in the ground to make sure it stays buried.
7	Dispose of dead bodies far from the settlement on the far side of some obstacle (river, mountains, cliff, lake) so they won't walk back.
8	Give their spirit somewhere more suitable to live (graveyard shrine, temple, offerings, carved wooden body).
9	Make a false village (or just a model, a picture, trinkets from the village) to confuse the undead and keep them away from the real one.
10	Sacrifice animals/servants at the funeral so the person who died isn't alone and angry in the afterlife.

There's a certain amount of Darwinism at play.  Like species, cultures evolve over time.  After tens of thousands of years, cultures that couldn't deal with the undead are outcompeted by cultures that found a solution.  But that's assuming the undead are actually a threat.

How correct their methods are (d8)
1	The undead are a major threat and always have been.  Correct procedure for dead bodies is part of their religion.
2	The undead haven't been a problem for many centuries.  They keep using their method for the sake of tradition, but they've made it simpler/easier.
3-4	The undead are a sporadic threat that comes and goes, based on something people haven't figured out (planetary alignment, 11-year locusts, humidity).  They use several methods at once, with more complexity than necessary.  Methods vary from culture to culture, but the correct method is included in all of them.
5-6	The undead are a new threat (a recent plague, new arrivals to the area, new planetary era) and people are still figuring out how to deal with them.  Different groups are trying different methods, prone to switching rapidly and falling for scams.
7-8	The undead are just rumors and myths.  Some cultures have a method, some don't.

The threat of undead could be the entire explanation for why a culture handles dead bodies the way they do.  Try rolling up some death culture for yourself:

death culture
How to prevent the undead
How correct their methods are

They can't both be vampires, can they?

(Max Schreck in Nosferatu)

In the process of researching folklore about death, I got a bit sidetracked by vampires.  They occupy a strange place in fiction, gaining and losing characteristics from one adaptation to another.  Nosferatu (1922) and Interview with the Vampire (1994) are both movies about vampires, but their monsters have hardly anything in common.

In RPGs, I like introducing creatures without naming them, showing signs of their activity and letting the players try to figure out what they're dealing with.  Sometimes the creature is something new that they've never heard of.  Sometimes they're already familiar with it.

So imagine if you ran across a creature that:

• is a person who died, returning to their coffin periodically to sleep
• is repelled by garlic
• does not have a reflection or cast a shadow 
• has powers of mind control 
• can fly, but cannot cross running water
• can make others into the same type of creature by biting them
• can be killed only by decapitation

You'd probably call that a vampire, right?  It certainly feels like one, though it doesn't drink blood and can act in daylight.

Let's say you and your fellow protagonists dispatch a few of these "vampires" and move on.  Then a year or two later, you run into one of these:

• a beautiful or charming person who only comes out at night
• has fangs, biting people to drink their blood
• is harmed by sunlight
• can be killed by fire or a wooden stake through the heart
• can climb on walls and ceilings
• is repelled by crucifixes
• cannot enter a house without being invited

That's...obviously a vampire too, right?  Except it isn't even undead.

(Jonathan Brugh in What We Do in the Shadows)

For a vampire species of your own, pick ten features from the list below.  If you'd prefer random results, roll a d6 and a d4 to choose, rerolling any results you've already gotten:

d6	d4	feature
1	1	has no reflection/shadow
	2	sleeps in a coffin with soil from their home / burial place
	3	turns to dust when killed
	4	cannot enter a house without being invited
2	1	is beautiful/charming
	2	can fly/hover
	3	is dead, but their bodies do not decay
	4	repelled by garlic
3	1	bites people and drinks their blood
	2	cannot cross running water
	3	can turn into a bat
	4	has superhuman senses
4	1	can make others into the same kind of creature by biting them
	2	fangs or long teeth
	3	feels compelled to count things like fallen grains
	4	can be killed by a wooden stake through the heart
5	1	is harmed by sunlight
	2	can be killed by decapitation
	3	can climb on walls and ceilings
	4	has powers of mind control / hypnotism
6	1	does not age, healing from most injuries
	2	can be killed by fire
	3	repelled by crosses/crucifixes
	4	is hideous

So what's your kind of vampire like?

Random wild creature

The vast wilderness of the North is home to many strange creatures, some of which haven't even been described in print yet.  Here are some tables to help you roll up an unusual creature of your own.

Jackalopes are real, I tell you.  (cryptidz.wikia.com)

Start with a Base, a real-world creature to base this strange one on.  It should be something from this climate's wildlife list (a topic for a future post), but the table also has a few suggestions.  (If you roll up a plant, be ready to get really creative.)

Base (d20)		examples
1-4	large land animal	wolf, alligator, mountain lion, moose, bear, caribou
5-8	small land mammal	jackrabbit, skunk, otter, raccoon, beaver, porcupine
9-11	flying creature	vulture, heron, bat, crow, chickadee, parrot
12-13	bug / crawly thing	leech, ant, bee, lightning bug, scorpion, tarantula
14-16	reptile/amphibian	bullfrog, snapping turtle, rattlesnake, salamander, lizard, poison dart frog
17-19	water creature	orca, catfish, eel, crawdad, jellyfish, sea turtle
20	plant	poison ivy, venus flytrap, redwood tree, sunflower, spanish moss, coconut palm

Let's roll up a new creature for a rugged mountain range (oaks and chestnuts in the lower parts, aspen higher up): 7, so it's a small land mammal.  A jackrabbit sounds good.

Roll twice for its Physical Features:

Physical Features (d20)
1-3	unusual size	(d8) 1-3: half the usual size, 4-7: larger than usual, 8: far larger
4-5	drawing attention	(d8) 1-2: brightly colored, 3-4: patterned appearance, 5-6: dance, movement, threatening display, 7-8: loud call
6-8	camouflage	(d8) 1-3: color/pattern matches background, 4-5: silent/stealthy movement, 6-7: changing color seasonally, 8: changing color quickly
9-10	poison	(d8) 1-2: venomous bite, 3-4: venomous stinger/claw, 5-6: poisonous to eat, 7: toxic/dangerous to touch, 8: tends to live/nest among poisonous/dangerous plants
11-13	unusual features	(d8) 1-2: porcupine quills, 3: glow like lightning bugs, 4: rattlesnake rattles, 5-6: antlers, 7: horns, 8: skunk spray
14-16	movement	(d8) 1: very fast-moving, 2-3: better swimmer/diver, 4-5: can leap high/far, 6-7: good at climbing, 8: can glide/fly
17-19	senses	(d8) 1-2: heat vision, 3-4: echolocation, 5-6: excellent sense of smell, 7-8: excellent hearing
20	useful	(d8) 1-3: excellent fur/hide, 4-5: made of tasty meat/food, 6-7: good for medicine, 8: can be tamed

The first roll is a 19 followed by a 1: this jackrabbit-like creature has heat vision, allowing it to see predators in the dark.  Next we have a 3 and a 2: it's tiny, half the usual size.  Sounds like they'll be hard to catch.

Roll at least twice for its Behavior:

Behavior (d20)
1	impressive lair	builds structures, dams, nests, mounds, tunnels that are especially large, complex, deep
2	collects things	long-term food storage, valuable local resource, stealing parts, decorations/toys, tools
3	unexpected reach	go unexpected places: get into containers, climb trees, sneak into settlements, squeeze through tight spaces
4	understanding	recognize labels to know where food is stored, knows enough words to get some idea what people are up to
5	learning	has learned how to avoid traps, take cover from gunfire, avoid food that might be poisoned
6	deception	false lairs to confuse attackers, luring into a trap or away from their young, deceptive call
7	tool use	bait to attract prey, tools to reach food, making use of existing machinery
8	coordination	act as a team/pack, communicate information about threats to each other
9	defensive attitude	patiently waits for opportunity, pursues over long distances, holds a grudge
10	charm	cute, good at begging, can herd livestock, act like pets
11	aggressive	eager to attack, more violent than necessary, kills people for fun
12	kidnapper	steals/lures away children, carries off small livestock
13	playful	toys with its victims, steals things to play with, teases creatures for fun
14	kind	tends to the needs of lost/injured people as best it can, especially children
15	unusual food	drinks blood, chews on trees and wooden buildings, hunts/eats some even rarer special creature
16	symbiotic	points out prey for predators to get some of the reward, immune to some plant's poison so it can eat the fruit, obtains food that it can't open for a large creature that can't reach it
17	fearful	afraid of people, attacks and then runs away quickly, afraid of something particular without a clear reason
18	territorial	claims a territory as its own, attacking anyone threatening who enters it
19	mimicry (despite earlier rolls)	looks/sounds almost exactly like some other Base creature, unusual footprints look like they're leading the other way
20	strange	has a strange power, if such things exist in this world (a topic for a future post)

The first roll is an 8: these tiny rabbits coordinate their actions in some way.  Communicating information about threats sounds useful, especially for such tiny creatures.

Next is a 15: they eat some unusual food.  Blood sounds nice and creepy.  They're interesting, but let's make them a little more so and roll again.

It's a 6: they're good at deception.  They've evolved or learned some behavior that helps them deceive creatures around them.  Let's say they've learned to put shiny objects in the entrances of their lairs, or in hollows of trees, or sticking out from under rocks with hiding places.  People reach down to pick up the shiny thing, and a dozen little bloodsucking rabbits spring out to get a taste.

Blood-hares sounds like a perfect name.  Nasty little creatures.

That's no ordinary jackrabbit.  (Morag Gunson)

They're not a major threat (unless acting in large numbers) but they're definitely not friendly.  If you find little jackrabbit footprints or see a shiny coin tucked somewhere suspicious, this is a very bad place to sleep.

random creature
base
physical features
behavior

Rolling up a few more random creatures:

• Jar-rattlers are a type of rattlesnake that shed their skins a few times a year, changing color to match the season.  They're good at biting, slithering, and squeezing their way into containers you wouldn't expect.  And they've even learned how to recognize the label on a popular elven brand of food.  They say that jar-rattlers never bite children, so the local people always have kids check the pantry first.
• Water panthers are a fearsome predator.  With very little fur, you can see their skin, but the skin changes color quickly to match their surroundings.  Water panthers are very good swimmers and divers, sleeping up on high outcroppings or tree branches over water for a quick getaway.  They've been known to drag away small livestock and possibly even children.
• Five-toed turkeys thrive in these woods.  They're bright orange in color, with feathers that are greatly desired by the goblins a few valleys over.  Their call sounds nothing like a regular turkey, making a haunting, plaintive sound.  Turkeys like to eat snails, but some snails are too big and tough for them to get at the tasty meat inside.  Five-toed turkeys have learned to toss tough snails into the workings of elven machinery to crack them open.  (The elves are not amused.)  When flushed out by dogs, these turkeys have learned to scatter for cover and fly through the trees, avoiding the open sky where a hunter can get a clean shot.

(Bob Zeller)

And just for fun, let's roll up a plant, making more creative use of the results.  I'll choose a mountain fern as a starting point.  Rolling it up, these ferns: change color over the long term, are poisonous to eat, have some kind of understanding, and are in a symbiotic relationship.  Let's see...

• Copper ferns grow in shady places in mountain gullies.  They're normally a sort of coppery color, making them easy to identify.  That's good, because they're also quite poisonous.  But if their growing conditions ever become poor (usually too sunny or too dry) they use the last of their energy to turn the same green shade as the edible ferns around them, losing their poison in the process.  Creatures eat the ferns when they're green, helping propagate the species through their droppings, hopefully in shadier or wetter places.

Apparently there's already a plant called a copper fern.  (Stauden Wichmann)

Try out the tables and see what you think.  Let me know if you roll up something interesting.