Salamanders are, of course, real creatures - long-tailed amphibians with a vaguely lizard-like appearance. The Ancient Greeks and Romans attributed a number of magical abilities to them, some of them related to fire, but it's clear that they were describing the real animal when they did so. In the Middle Ages, however, there's more of a split between the amphibian and the fantastic creature, with the latter taking on more exotic forms and powers. This culminates in the 16th century with Paracelsus adopting the name for what he termed "fire elementals" and it's this that's most likely the inspiration for the D&D monster.
1E
The salamander in 1E is roughly humanoid from the waist up, with the legs replaced by a single tail that keeps the creature in broadly human proportions. A series of narrow frills extends along the back, and also down each of the arms; these are partially erect, but whether they are buoyed aloft by hot air or are self-animated tendrils isn't something we can determine from the picture. The head has a flattened cranium and a triangular jaw with sharp carnivorous teeth. The ears are significantly elongated, with further frills on them and a pair of branching tendrils project out from either side of the nose, which we might suppose to be sensory. The creature has a partly striped and partly mottled pattern, with the background colouration shading from yellow to red along the length of the body.
The salamander is very difficult to injure without the use of magic, being invulnerable to regular weapons (unless wielded by someone with 'great strength', which isn't clarified). Assuming that an attacker can get past this admittedly significant obstacle, the tail of the salamander has the equivalent of plate armour on it, presumably in the form of resilient scales, and even the rest of the body is as tough as mail. Salamanders are more intelligent than humans, although there's not much indication of any society. This could well be explained by their chaotic alignments, although it's notable that, in this edition, they are never encountered alone, always travelling as at least a pair. Sociable then, but not hierarchical or inclined to follow any social rules. On the other hand, it's also possible that their inhospitable native environment has prevented anyone from finding out much about how they live their lives.
And inhospitable it certainly is. Salamanders become uncomfortable below 150°C (300°F) although it does take a few hours for temperatures too low for the inside of an oven to actually kill them. Even this level of heat isn't their preference, however, because what they really like is a steady 260°C (500°F). That's hot enough to melt tin, although admittedly it's well short of, say, making iron glow red. But it's impressive for something that at least superficially appears to be organic.
The 2E version has semi-rigid spines instead of the mobile frills and has a pair of large antlers sprouting from its scalp. The tendrils on the face are more bushy than branched and may be more hair-like than anything else, since this salamander also has a beard. The ventral surface of the tail and abdomen have especially heavy scales, not apparent in the earlier version, but suitable for crawling along rough ground like a snake. We're told the creature is seven feet long (215 cm) which, since the tail now makes up about three-quarters of that length, would make the upper body closer in size to a halfling than a human...
3E
The tail is even longer in proportion to the body 3E, despite the fact that the overall creature doesn't seem to have become any larger. The frills are now jagged claw-like projections, sticking out of the lower body more or less at random with far fewer on the arms than before. There is some form of head ornamentation, although it is more palmate than before and doesn't seem to be paired. There's an actual burst of flame where the beard was previously, but otherwise, the salamander is duller in colour, tending more towards brown than orange, and with a black, rather than coppery, face.
There is more information given on salamander society in this edition and it turns out to be fairly sophisticated. That may partly be because they're no longer automatically "chaotic", although they are always cruel to other lifeforms. Having said which, they aren't normally encountered in large groups, and power seems to be based on physical strength and the ability to work magic. The magic they use is, of course, all flame-based, which, when you think about it, must be almost totally useless on their home plane... if probably easy to learn.
The exact temperature range that salamanders prefer is no longer given in this edition. However, it does imply that the salamander's own body heat is sufficient to make their spears glow red, which would put it at at least 460°C (900°F) and implies that their natural habitat is at least somewhere in that ballpark.
5E
The 5E salamander is closer to the original 1E version in some respects, although the colour is comparatively uniform, and the tail is about 90% of the body length. Salamanders are now larger than humans, however, so this doesn't have quite the same implications for how large the humanoid part of the body is. They now have just four fingers on each hand, but it's their head that has changed the most. This is now more reptilian than humanoid, lacking the prominent nose of earlier editions, and with a pair of long, mobile and unbranching tendrils projecting backwards from it. There are no antlers, just a profusion of fleshy frills rising from the top of the head. The text describes these, and the other projections on the body as "spines", which would fit with 2E and 3E, but the illustration shows something much closer to the flexible wafting flaps of skin apparent in 1E.
Salamander intelligence has dropped significantly in this edition, putting them on a par with the average human, although they are physically much stronger (which is fair enough, given that they're also larger). The hide over the whole body is equivalent to mail now, rather than some of it being closer to plate steel. Perhaps to fit in better with the way creatures are described in this edition, we're back to a single alignment for salamanders, which is less chaotic than it was in 1E, although they're still hardly what you'd call companionable.
There is every indication that, unlike efreet, salamanders are physical beings composed of much the same sort of matter as those native to the material plane - for instance, they don't simply vanish in a puff of fire when they die. In this context, it's interesting to note that the Elemental Plane of Fire is usually depicted rather differently than its three regular counterparts. Those consist of an essentially infinite expanse of whatever their element may be, with the odd other thing floating or embedded in it. But the Plane of Fire is typically shown as a blasted landscape, with plains, mountains, and all the other features we'd expect... only burning. That is, the Plane of Fire seems to have substantially more earth and air than the other planes have of the equivalent elements there. Which makes it easier to see how salamanders could be composed of something at least analogous to regular matter even though fire itself is more energy than it is a physical substance. Having said which, "analogous" is about as far as we're going to get since it's clear that the basic laws of physics and chemistry can't work in the same way on the Elemental Plane of Fire as they do in the material world.
Nothing organic is going to survive temperatures that will melt tin, let alone those that will make iron red hot. Furthermore, one thing the Plane of Fire does seem to lack is water (except, conceivably, as steam) so salamander biochemistry is not a thing as we'd understand it, or uses some entirely different substrate as a solvent - liquid sulphur is a possibility here. And, at least in 3E, being outsiders, salamanders don't need to eat, perhaps getting their energy directly from the environment (where, to be fair, there's plenty of it).
Anatomically, salamanders appear to have both reptilian and amphibian features, although they're weird enough that their internal organs must at least function differently, even if they aren't in different locations. For instance, the frills of 1E and 5E are reminiscent of the crests of newts - which are, technically speaking, a specific kind of real-world salamander - but the underside of the body in the 5E illustration appears to be scaled like a snake.
The mix of reptilian and amphibian features is especially clear when it comes to reproduction. The different editions are contradictory as to how this works. 2E states that females exist, and have some humanoid feminine features, although not necessarily to the extent of having a mammalian chest. 3E, however, states that salamanders are sexless and parthenogenetic. 5E is silent on the matter, although the look of the salamander in that edition implies that it might be hard for humans to tell.
Crucially, however, salamanders are said to lay eggs with shells made of volcanic glass. The presence of the shell is reminiscent of reptile eggs (and, for that matter, birds and monotremes) and real-world amphibians are, in part, defined by its absence. It does raise the question of what, besides the embryo, is inside the egg, taking the place of yolk and albumen. Is it liquid sulphur? Some kind of plasma? Or perhaps an organic material that doesn't quite follow the physics and chemistry of our world?
While the egg may appear reptilian, the salamander that hatches out of it is notable for having a snake-like body and lacking any limbs. It is, in effect, a tadpole, although the nature of the Elemental Plane of Fire means that it isn't aquatic or anything equivalent to that. They grow up remarkably quickly, developing their arms and reaching full size in just a year although, to be fair, we don't know how long the adults live. These larval "fire snakes" are unable to speak, which is true enough for humans at that age, too, although they're apparently able to understand the language of their parents without difficulty, which is perhaps less so.
At this point, there are just seven more entries to go in this blog series. So it's as good a time as any to explain what didn't make it in. I used two basic criteria in deciding what to include. Firstly, a creature had to appear in the core Monster Manual books for 1E, 3E, and 5E. This cuts out a lot, keeping the total down. So no Gith, perytons, or tarrasque, among many others.
But there also has to be something to say once the descriptive parts of the post are out of the way. A creature could fail to meet this standard for a couple of reasons. It could be too similar to something else I had already done, so that I'd just be repeating myself. For instance, having done both gorgons and medusae, there was no reason to include cockatrices or basilisks. Others, however, failed to make the grade because there isn't anything much to say that would fit within the themes of the blog. Ogre mages, for instance, are distinctive largely because they use spells and there isn't much to say about that, so out they went. Night hags suffered a similar fate, along with such things as rakshasas and imps. Nor did I feel there was much to say about vampires that hasn't been said elsewhere.
So, seven still to go, although they'll probably slow down again for the next few months. And then we'll see what happens next.
