Saturday 14 March 2020

D&D Monsters: Medusae

While the exact details of the myth evolved over time, in the best-known version of the Greek original, Medusa was one of three monstrous sisters known as the gorgons. As the only one of the three who was mortal, she was eventually killed and her severed head used as a magical charm. As a consequence, she is far better known than her sisters, who have no independent myths. In D&D, for some reason, the word "gorgon" is used for an entirely different type of creature, and "medusa" becomes the generic term for the type of being, rather than a specific individual. This has since caught on in other fictional contexts.

(I am going to use the plural "medusae" here, because that was the way I learned it as a zoologist, so I find it more natural than the form usually used in fantasy games).

The earliest depictions of gorgons in Greek art only show the head; when the rest of the body was added later on, there was some degree of variation. The body was always that of a human woman, but she almost always had wings sprouting from her back and shoulders, and often other monstrous features such as tusks, brass clawed hands, and so on. While she is typically described as hideous to behold, even some of the original myths apparently refer to as being physically beautiful - hair aside, obviously.


1E

Rather like the original Greek art, that in the 1E Monster Manual only shows the medusa's head. We can see that she is ugly (although largely because she's drawn grimacing), with teeth resembling those of a reptile or shark. In other respects, however, she appears human aside from the whole snakes-for-hair thing. The text confirms this, stating that it's easy to mistake a medusa for a human if you can't see the hair - which also implies a human skin-tone. Their eyes are said to be "red-rimmed", and their body shapely and feminine; they evidently don't have the wings of the mythical gorgons.

Medusae live in small groups of, appropriately enough, up to three. Surprisingly, given this, and what's presumably a lack of any organisational culture, they are described as "lawful evil". They're roughly as intelligent as humans, and (since there's no indication they wear armour) apparently have skin as tough as chainmail. Petrifying gaze aside, their only attack seems to be a minor snakebite, although they're physically harder to kill than, say, an ogre, which implies either a remarkably resilient physicality or a high combat skill. 

We don't really learn anything else about them other than the fact that they live in caves, rather than on a remote island as the gorgons do in the myth.


2E

The text description is similar to that of 1E, with the addition of the fact that their eyes are now wholly red and actually glow in the dark (which you'd think would be problematic). The illustration, however, shows the eyes as dead white, and, while we can't see the medusa's teeth, she now has elven, rather than human ears. Her face is more attractive, too, although that might well be a trait of this particular individual - or perhaps she's just younger. While the original version had twelve snake-heads that we could see, and presumably many more that we couldn't, this one seems quite clearly to only have six in total, interspersed with real hair on her scalp.

There's considerably more information on how medusae breed and some on what they do with those they petrify, but no significant changes to what's said in 1E.


3E

As so often, the look of the medusa changes radically in 3E. Now they are much more clearly monstrous creatures, that no one could reasonably mistake for humans even without seeing the hair - although the text still says that this happens a lot. They have a thick scaled skin matching that of their snakes in colour, a bestial face with a flat nose and no visible ears. These features, along with the absence of a navel, imply a reptilian nature, but their slightly tusked teeth and obvious mammary glands both look mammalian. Their eyes are again said to glow red, but are a uniform green in the illustration. The snakes are at least as numerous as in the 1E illustration, but much longer, as they are in 2E.

Medusae turn out to be more agile than humans, but no stronger, and have a high charisma that presumably reflects an aptitude for deception rather than anything else. They are also skilled with bows now, something not excluded by the earlier descriptions, but not directly stated, either. Their natural habitat is described as being swamps, which rather rules out the caves of the earlier versions, although they can adapt to hiding in human cities. We also discover that they no longer have a native language, as they did in 1E. Instead, they speak whatever the local humans speak, which makes sense for something so isolated from others of its kind and that relies heavily on deception.


5E

The appearance shifts again in 5E, back to something that appears closer to the 1E version, but with a few key differences. Firstly, the skin is a dead grey, rather than being a more human tone. The red-rimmed - or red-glowing - eyes have gone, being replaced with ones of a blank blue (although, of course, the colour might vary between individuals). Finally, the medusa here is explicitly stated to be physically attractive, which is evidently meant to include the facial features as well as the bodily form.

Medusae are now entirely solitary, and they reproduce in an entirely different way than they did in 2E. They retain at least some of the weapon skills from 3E, and in most respects do seem to be quite similar.



All editions agree that medusae tend to wear normal human clothing, although, if so, the one illustrated in 3E seems to have suffered a catastrophic wardrobe malfunction. This does raise the question of where they get it from, along with whatever weapons or other artefacts they may be in possession of. 3E does state that some medusae live in human cities, where their powers and lawful evil natures mean that they gravitate towards leadership positions in human crime gangs. That gives them minions, which would obviously be helpful in acquiring quality frocks, but for most of their kind, it's a bit of a mystery. Perhaps they do a lot of raiding of merchant caravans, although even that won't work if they live somewhere remote enough.

A second question, as always with apparently single-sex races, is where new examples of their kind come from. There are four broad possibilities here, and the three editions that address the question all pick different ones, excluding only parthenogenicity as the explanation. 2E says that they mate with males of other humanoid species, killing their partner immediately after the sex act (have they been wearing a bag on their head up to this point?) They then lay eggs, which hatch into infants that grow at the same rate as humans and only gradually develop their powers.

In both 2E and 3E, with its more obviously reptilian look, medusae do nonetheless seem to have the organs required to feed their young with mammalian milk. The 2E version also seems to have a navel, but perhaps it's where the yolk sac was attached, rather than a placenta. This may mean that it qualifies as something like a monotreme...

Pathfinder medusae reproduce in the same way, but are clearly placental mammals, and don't lay eggs.

4E goes with the option of "male medusae do actually exist", although they look different enough that most people don't realise they are the same species. Male medusae also exist in 2E, but are extremely rare mutants that are effectively incapable of perpetuating the species. In 5E, medusae are the immortal, infertile, results of rare curses upon evil women.

Unless they do lay eggs, the internal anatomy of a medusa is likely much the same as a human. The exception, of course, are the snakes. These have venomous fangs, and the illustrations show them as looking like regular snakes - although the scale pattern doesn't match that of real snakes in the 3E picture. The snakes, therefore, have eyes, and probably other sensory organs, giving the medusa at least a limited form of 360-degree vision.

Internally, since they're attached to the medusa's skull at the base, the oesophagus must be blind-ending, and it seems plausible that their own skull contains only a ganglion rather than a full brain, perhaps connected to the rest of the nervous system via a narrow cranial opening. They may each have a lung, although, even collectively, these would likely be too small to allow the medusa to function fully if she's unable to breathe through her main nostrils - still, full suffocation would be harder to achieve. A heart would seem unlikely, as it would have to be synced to the main one, and most other organs would be in the "missing" tail end anyway.

This brings us to the medusa's signature power, which is, of course, it's petrifying gaze. It's clear that this is a magical effect, triggered when both the medusa and its victim can see one another's eyes. In 2E, it isn't even necessary for the medusa to see the victim, since the "gaze" continues to work after the creature is dead, matching the original myth where the severed head retained its potency and was eventually given to the goddess Athena to place on her shield.

A feature that doesn't match the myth is that, in most editions, a medusa that sees its own reflection in a mirror turns itself to stone. In the myth, of course, Perseus is able to fight Medusa precisely because her reflection doesn't transmit the deadly effect. Technically, it's never stated that this doesn't work in D&D, but if a reflection works on the medusa herself it's hard to see why it wouldn't work on anyone else. At least in 2E, however, this does have to be a polished metallic mirror, with something like a still water surface not having the same effect.

Unlike the D&D gorgon, which is essentially a wild animal with few natural predators, a medusa's petrifying gaze is clearly a defensive measure. In the earliest editions, it's implied that they use the power simply for the fun of it; later on, it's more something to protect themselves while they go about other nefarious activities such as stealing jewellery and luxury goods.

Having said which, the power is universally depicted as changing the victim's clothes and carried possessions into stone as well - something that makes sense aesthetically, but not logically. After all, what exactly are the limits of this? It's not just skin contact with the living victim, nor is it a more general proximity effect. If you turn to stone while touching a table, the table is unaffected, and similarly if you're standing barefoot on a wooden floor. Yet anything non-magical inside your backpack is affected, despite it not touching you, and being further away from your skin than the floorboards. Other, more convoluted, examples could be contrived but, in most cases, we instinctively know the answer; the magic works on an aesthetic/semantic level not on a reductive/analytic one.

Petrification is an all-or-nothing effect, so it can be simulated in other systems by fiat, in the unlikely event they don't already have something similar. (Although it may be worth noting that, from 4E onwards, the medusa's gaze is generally less likely to succeed than the equivalent wizard spell). Questions may arise as to how it can be reversed, and, in a technological setting, what non-magical countermeasures might be effective. For instance, while it presumably wouldn't work through a film recording (the medusa can't see the victim) if it's the result of a psychic connection triggered by mutual vision, rather than, say, beams emitted by the medusa's eyes... might a video conference be sufficient?

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