Thursday 23 May 2019

D&D Monsters: Harpies

Harpies are one of a number of D&D monsters that owe their origins to Greek myth. However, the story is not quite as simple as that, since they actually combine two different Greek monsters into a single being: the harpies themselves, and sirens. Both were said to be creatures that were part bird, part woman, but beyond that, there is little similarity between the two in the original sources.

Although very early descriptions of mythic harpies portray them as beautiful, the great majority show them as monstrous. As is often the case, there isn't complete consistency in the descriptions of which parts are avian and which parts humanoid, although something at least resembling the D&D form is the most common. Sirens were even more variable, and some early Greek artwork shows male examples as well as females. In essence, though, it is really only the signature attack - the siren call - that copies over to the D&D 'harpy', which in other respects, is more closely based on its namesake.

Why the two were combined into one monster is unclear, although the 1st edition Monster Manual states that, in the D&D universe, 'siren' and 'harpy' are just two different names for the same creature.

1E

The original version of the harpy shows a being with humanoid head, arms, and chest and with facial features that resemble those of a wild and unkempt elf. They have the abdomen, legs, and tail of a vulture, and large wings sprouting from somewhere behind their shoulders. They are relatively unintelligent, although clearly sentient, creatures and speak to one another in a unique language essentially unknown to the outside world. 

Flocks can number up to a dozen, although given their 'chaotic evil' descriptor, they are perhaps better described as aggressive mobs. They seem to lack any meaningful social structure, and they have no material culture either, picking up only what has been discarded by others. They are apparently pure carnivores and, like their original namesakes, defecate on whatever food they cannot consume. Like many such creatures, their only pastime seems to be torturing their living prey before they eat it. 

2E

The 2E version lacks the elongated elf-like ears of the original, and the boundary between the human and bird parts lies at the hips rather than the base of the ribcage. The legs also look less obviously vulture-like, with the feathers extending only to the knees rather than the ankles - a more humanoid overall shape also means that the knees are positioned differently than they would be on a bird (and seemingly are in the 1E version). However, the shape of the face is strongly reminiscent of that in the original drawing.

There is, as usual in this edition, more information on harpy society (or the lack of it). Much of this plays up the description of harpies from myth as particularly foul and filthy creatures. On the other hand, picking up the 'siren' theme, they now live primarily along coastlines. As with many monsters, they prefer the flesh of the "good guy" humanoid races over animals or (presumably) orcs. This is also the only edition to explain where new harpies come from, given that they are all female; it turns out that they are parthenogenetic, laying eggs without the need for a male.

3E

The appearance of the harpy changes dramatically in 3E, with a peculiar decision to making it now reptilian, rather than avian. The wings are batlike, with the hips and legs scaled and (allowing for the bipedal stance) lizard-like. There is also a very short, scaled, tail, emphasising the reptilian ancestry. While the pointed ears are back, the face is more angular and inhuman, and the neck is remarkably long. The fingers are clawed, although, as in earlier versions, the talons on the feet seem to be the creature's primary natural weapon.

Harpies, which were always moderately skilled at combat, are rather more so here and are noticeably more dangerous as a result. The more detailed stats indicate that they are agile, but not physically stronger than humans, and that they have an acute sense of hearing (as well as being able to see without light, which most things can in D&D). Another change, however, is that they now speak Common, rather than their own language, perhaps to allow them to make better use of their stated skills in deception.

5E

Another edition, another dramatic change in the look. Harpies returned to being avian in 4E, and regained their elven looks. In that edition, their legs were avian from the knee down, but the arms are scaled and vaguely reptilian below the elbows; they were also less hideous than in previous versions. In 5E, however, the avian elements are really only limited to the wings sprouting from behind and below the shoulders. Other than that, they appear as degenerate elves, but with reptilian legs from the knee down (that is, they are featherless, and the feet appear to lack the distinctive avian form). Or, at least, that's what the picture shows, since the text still describes the 1E/2E version, with a partially bird-like torso.

Unusually, 5E harpies have no more hit points than the 3E version, making them relatively less of a threat - although really only down to the sort of level they were in the first two editions. This time around, we are also told that they are, indeed, descendants of cursed elves... which makes the fact that they speak Common, not Elvish, even more of a surprise.

The anatomical form of the harpy is therefore variable between the different editions (as it is in mythology), but one feature that remains constant is the six-limbed form, with a pair of wings arising from the back. In both mammals and birds, the upper limbs are attached to the rest of the skeleton through an arrangement called the pectoral girdle. Since the arms and wings can evidently move independently of one another, it seems logical that harpies (and griffons, etc.) must have two separate such girdles.

The human arms are usually shown as having a higher point of attachment than the wings, and its apparent that the girdle here would resemble the human form, with scapulae (shoulder blades) and clavicles (collar bones). The shape of the torso, however, makes it difficult to see how the bones of the avian girdle would all fit inside the body. However, it can just about be achieved with a second set of narrow, bird-like scapulae below the 'human' set, attached to the sternum (breast bone) by an additional bone running between or just above the upper ribs.

What you lose with this arrangement is the furcula (wishbone), something rather helpful to bird flight. But then, it's obvious that the chest lacks the powerful muscles necessary for flight. This is somewhat easier to justify with griffons, with their bulky torso and covering of fur that might hide some of the details, but we're left with the conclusion that, if a harpy were a real creature, it would have to look somewhat different from the way mythology portrays it. (And, this, of course, ignores the aerodynamic impossibility of supporting a body so large and heavy with wings of a plausible size).

The other anatomical question concerns the fusion between the mammalian and avian parts of the body, but this is less of an issue, since most of the internal organs are pretty similar between the two types of animal. The exception is the genitourinary system, which in this case is presumably avian, but this could fit alongside the mammalian organs without any real difficulty.

Speaking of which, where do baby harpies come from? This wasn't a question in the mythological version, where harpies were the children of the gods, and there were probably no more than about five of them in total. But, if they're a race, they do need to reproduce.

The 2E explanation that they are parthenogenetic makes the most sense, although a 1E publication had previously stated that male harpies do exist, but are indistinguishable from the females without the sort of intimate examination that nobody human wishes to make. In which case, presumably, the males suckle their young as well as the females... which is a bit odd, but not technically impossible. At any rate, since it's the lower part of the body that's avian, we would assume (as 2E states) that harpies lay eggs, even if they are otherwise mammalian.

Hey, if a platypus can do it...

The signature attack of the harpy is its 'siren call' (the actual term used varies) that attracts willing victims towards it and limits their ability to defend themselves. The exact details differ between editions, partly due to simple changes in the rule systems, but two key alterations do stand out, in that they would be noticeable to people living in the world.

Firstly, there is the range of creatures that can be affected by call. In 1E and 3E, the call affects anything with a sense of hearing, allowing the harpy to (say) attract deer for it to eat. This implies that the call works directly on the auditory centres of the brain and is simply a magical attack transmitted through sound.

In 2E it affects only humans, dwarves, gnomes, and halflings, with elves being naturally resistant to this sort of thing anyway. The implication is that it's the exact nature of the sound that's relevant and that creatures without a natural appreciation of melody (such as orcs, apparently) are unaffected. 5E seems to interpret the musical tastes of hobgoblins and the like rather more broadly, and the song now affects all humanoids and giants, but not such things as wild animals. Strongly magical races, such as the fey, are also unaffected, but that's hardly surprising given their natures.

The second difference is that, in the earlier editions, harpies could also charm people simply by touching them. This appears to be a straight-up magical attack, since no other explanation for how it would work is given. It's gone by 3E, which helps make the harpy less deadly.

Harpies as described in D&D are more agile than humans, and at least passably skilled in combat, but otherwise aren't particularly remarkable. In systems with hit locations, you would need to reflect the wings as an additional pair of limbs, but that's not an unusual arrangement in most such fantasy systems. There is, of course, the song, and it doesn't help that the effectiveness of that varies significantly between editions. In 5E it's unlikely to last more than a round or two, whereas in 3E it lasts as long as the harpy sings (and there's nothing much to stop it short of death) and is quite hard to shrug off even if the victim is placed in immediate danger as a result. 

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