D&D Monsters: Mimics

The 1E Monster Manual includes several monsters that are essentially animate traps of one kind or another - floors that try to eat you, ceilings that try to eat you, stalactites that try to eat you, and so on. All of them with bland descriptive names rather than even an attempt at something atmospheric. The only one of these to remain consistently in the core rulebooks, however, is the mimic. Which is essentially a treasure chest that tries to eat you. It's certainly a contender for "silliest monster in D&D" (although it has some pretty stiff opposition) and it should come as no surprise that it's original to the game. Indeed, it's tailor-made for the "dungeon crawl" genre that D&D basically invented, since it makes even less sense in any other context than it does in that one.

So... yup, time for the mimic.

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1E

As originally described, the mimic is a living creature that, for no particular reason, can disguise itself as anything made from wood or stone. Or, given that the picture clearly shows one pretending to be a treasure chest with rivets and a lock in it, presumably anything made from metal as well. It's possible that the fact that they're only encountered in pitch-dark dungeons occasionally illuminated by flickering torch-light means that they don't need to be terribly effective at imitating things to get away with it, but the implication is that they're pretty skilled - there's no indication given of a potential victim having any chance at all of realising they're fake.

They're probably less convincing to the touch, given that they have a hide equivalent to tough leather, which is hardly going to trick you into thinking it's solid stone. But, of course, they don't need to be, because, by the time you touch them, it's too late. We're told that they attack by extruding a pseudopod, which is exactly what we see in the picture, so there's evidently some flexibility to their body. The mimic in the illustration also lacks any visible eyes, mouth, or other evident bodily features because that would rather defeat the disguise, but presumably, it can form them as and when it needs them. After all, if it doesn't have eyes at all, it isn't going to be frightened of light, which (like some real-world subterranean creatures) it apparently is.

We're also told that there are two different kinds of creature referred to as mimics. One is comparatively large and has about the same intelligence as a dog. The smaller one is as intelligent as a regular human, and can speak its own language. Why it bothers when it's entirely solitary and will therefore never, under any circumstances, have anyone else to speak the language with, is a bit of a mystery, as is how it manages to learn all the other languages it can supposedly converse in.

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2E

The illustration in 2E shows a more sophisticated form of pseudopod, ending in a pair of clawed tentacles, and has gone far enough into its attack mode to reveal a large mouth, lined with sharp carnivorous teeth and possessing a vertebrate-like tongue. On the other hand, it specifically lacks eyes, having photosensitive skin that can also sense body heat.

We're told that its hide is, in fact, stone-like and has a natural grey colour (this implies it must have a natural, resting, shape as well... but what it is we don't know). The armour class remains equivalent to tough leather, though, which may partly be because the thing can't really move about very much, but also seems to imply that the stony hide... isn't a very thick stony hide. Or perhaps it's brittle, like slate.

We're told that the non-sentient mimics are actively evil, which arguably raises some philosophical questions about the nature of evil. Oh, and mimics are immune to puddings. Which makes more sense in context than it sounds.

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3E

In 3E, the unintelligent mimics have disappeared, and the physical size stated for the creature matches that given for the smaller, brighter ones in the earlier edition. They weigh about two tons, which may sound a lot, but actually isn't when you consider that they have a volume of 150 cubic feet (4,250 litres). This works out to a density of just under 0.5 which is much less than we would expect for something made of flesh and blood... presumably, there are substantial air gaps inside it.

Their hide is tougher than before; it's hardly equivalent to plate steel, but it's on a par with mail armour, which is at least reasonably effective at warding off weapons. The text continues to describe their limbs as pseudopods, but the one in the picture is imitating humanoid arms, complete with fingers and thumbs and what appear to be claws. Indeed, the limbs look as if they have an internal skeleton... they probably don't, though, so they are likely much more flexible than they appear. Mimics are incredibly strong and physically resilient and their movement rate, while still dismal, is slightly better than it was before. They now speak Common, which at least allows some chance that somebody might be able to hold a conversation with one in its native language.

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5E

The mimic in the picture here is still pretending to be a treasure chest (we're assured they can disguise themselves as other things, but pictures of them doing so are comparatively rare). It still has pseudopods, although it isn't extruding them in the illustration, unless that's what the incredibly long tongue is supposed to be. It has far more teeth than in 2E, although, given that the form is mutable, that may not mean much. Oddly, though, it does have eyes - they must be concealed when they're closed, but that they're there at all is a change from 2E. 

The hide has dropped down to being equivalent to thick leather again, and the speed has significantly increased, even if it still can't catch a running human. (Not having legs can't be a boon there). More importantly, the intelligence rating has dropped down to somewhere close to that of a gorilla - higher than the dog-like rating of the larger mimics in the first two editions, but well below that of the smart ones. There are apparently a few exceptions that are just about able to speak with humans, but they're rare, implying quite a downturn in the braininess stakes.

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While it's just about possible to speculate as to what, say, a roper might be, a mimic, as described, is too weird to make any real stab at it. It's pretty clear that it doesn't resemble, even loosely, and real-world creature. Yet it is clearly meant to be a biological being of some kind, rather than a construct or demonic entity or whatever. In 5E, it isn't even an aberration, but merely a "monstrosity", a general term for living beings that aren't exceptionally alien.

In 2E, we're told that mimics have identifiable internal organs, so they aren't simply amorphous blobs that can take on other shapes. The fact that they're so mutable, and that their limbs are "pseudopods" counts strongly against the idea that they have an internal skeleton, and, in most editions, their outer hide isn't hard enough to be the short chitinous exoskeleton of an arthropod or calcareous shell of a mollusc, either. Not all molluscs have a shell, of course, and there are many other kinds of invertebrate in existence, some of which do, indeed, have a sort of leathery outer surface - although they don't have a habit of morphing into treasure chests or otherwise easily changing their shape.

The fact is, however, that we have nothing much to go on when considering what those internal organs might be, let alone how they might be arranged. There's a mouth, with teeth and a tongue, so there's going to be a digestive tube of some kind, although the mouth is so large that a stomach seems unnecessary. By the same logic, in addition to the orifices we know of, there must surely be an anus concealed somewhere on the body. This also implies excretory organs of some kind, although they don't necessarily need a separate opening.

The thing must breathe, and its size suggests lungs and a circulatory system with some kind of pump - although neither would have to look like the vertebrate versions. The nostrils appear to be concealed, so it's likely that the animal can hold its breath for extensive periods of time while it's inactive - something that's quite plausible when you consider that whales can do so for hours on end while swimming and actively searching for food, rather than just sitting motionless waiting for it come past.

The mimic's intelligence may vary, but it's high enough for it to require a brain and a nervous system, whether or not it also has eyes. Other organs are certainly possible, but the arrangement and/or shape may be alien enough to make some of them hard to identify.

Much of the internal body is likely composed of muscle, in addition to any air spaces to lighten its body as the 3E weight implies. But one of the things that's most notable about the mimic is its ability to change its shape, so whatever organs it possesses must be able to be compressed and re-arranged to suit its needs. There must be some limitations on a mimic's ability to, well, mimic, but we know that it can't change its overall volume or body mass, and this is significant when we consider that, supposedly, its favourite form other than a treasure chest is as a door.

Since the door doesn't need to actually open, it's probably much thicker than an actual door, extruding itself into whichever space it assumes potential prey won't be advancing from. But even so, it's surely flatter than a trunk, meaning that it can squeeze its organs into a new shape and arrangement when it needs to. Quite how far it can do isn't stated in the core rules, although something like a very long and narrow rope is probably beyond it without giving itself the equivalent of a hernia.

Mimics are said to be completely solitary - even in 1E, which often has creatures living in small groups. So they're probably asexual. 2E confirms this, and says that they reproduce by fission, which is a bit unlikely for anything so large and internally complex. However, some kind of asexual budding is a possibility, with the offspring being concealed inside the body until it is large enough to be extruded and wander off on its own.

The ecology of the mimic is, of course, completely bonkers given its extreme artificial specificity. 2E states that mimics were originally created by wizards and so were specifically designed as organic traps to place in the subterranean complexes that such people always feel the need to construct. What the heck they created them from is a bit of a mystery, but that they aren't constructs even to the extent that a flesh golem is implies that it must have been something (or several somethings merged). 

If we're willing to accept that wizards go around building dungeons and that they assume that treasure-seekers will break into them at some point and be distracted by a fake chest then... sure, making one that eats people isn't totally unreasonable. You can imagine that the Ancient Egyptians who put traps in their tombs to stop robbers might have done something like this if they thought they could get away with it... and if they could supply enough food for the mimic to survive on during the long waits between break-ins. (5E says that, looking as they do, mimics can be assured of  "a steady stream of prey". Dude, if your home is getting broken into that frequently, you should move to a lower-crime neighbourhood. We know you can afford it).

But how do mimics get from one dungeon to another? They don't seem to have the ability to pretend to be anything other than furniture, which is decidedly limiting as a form of camouflage. Yet if the things live worldwide, and aren't being created all the time, as golems and undead are (and even 5E, which is normally quite keen on this sort of explanation, doesn't go there for mimics) then travel they must. And know where to go.

Perhaps some dungeons-are-us delivery service is shipping them across the world to their clients.

D&D Monsters: Couatls

The couatl has its basis in Mesoamerican mythology, although it's arguable how much it resembles the original. The name is apparently inspired by that of the Aztec god Quetzalcoatl the "feathered serpent". In reality, coatl simply means "snake" so it doesn't refer to any specific mythic creature taken on its own. Having said that, snakes were important to the Mesoamerican people, and associated with many of their gods. In particular, several of them were feathered, magically merging the features of a flying creature with one that crawls along the ground. They seem to have been regarded as divine beings, which fits with the original 1E description of their habitat and relationship with humans.

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1E

As originally seen, the couatl has a head and body that closely resemble those of a regular snake. While the presence of an extra set of teeth between the fangs is unusual, in other respects, the arrangement of the teeth resembles those of snakes such as cobras, kraits, and mambas, rather than say, rattlesnakes or boomslangs. While the head is at least partially covered with scales like that of a normal snake, the couatl's body is feathered, with longer feathers along the back and what appear to be softer, downy, ones on the underside. 

D&D Monsters: Ropers

The roper is another of the "does what it says on the tin" monsters that are original to D&D. Alongside such creatures as trappers and piercers, it's clearly intended to disguise itself as part of the background and attack unexpectedly but does have a more distinctive look and an unusual method of attack that make it more memorable than they are, with the result that it consistently appears in the core Monster Manual books of each edition.

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1E

In the original Monster Manual, the roper is a tapered pillar-like creature with a single large eye above the mouth near the top of the body - there are no apparent nostrils or ears. The eye has an odd brow-like structure that seems to partially cover the upper surface; this might be a ridge to protect it from falling debris, since it lives in caves and there's plausibly a lid that flips down from it as well. The mouth opens horizontally and has pointed isodont teeth in both jaws, although it seems unlikely that the creature has much of an internal skeleton to attach them to. The base is limbless and flat to the ground, while a vertically arranged row of three apparent tentacles arise from each side.

D&D Monsters: Umber Hulks

The origins of the D&D umber hulk are not clear. It predates what we'd now call 1E, first appearing in the Greyhawk supplement, and it has been proposed that it may be based on one of the same set of plastic toys that inspired the owlbear, rust monster, and bulette. If so, it doesn't closely resemble any of them, while the other three are very clearly drawn to resemble the toys in the 1E Monster Manual. So, if it's inspired by them at all, the connection is still vague enough that, to all intents and purposes, it's an original creation. Certainly, its signature power is original, doubtless intended to be related to its unusual appearance and, while evil sorcerers might be able to do something similar in myth, the same is not generally true of monsters.

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1E

As originally depicted, the umber hulk is an upright bipedal creature with a powerful, squat build. Allegedly, it's similar enough in form to a human to be mistaken for one from a distance in dim light; this seems a bit of a stretch even if you can't see the head, but perhaps the writers were thinking of something like ogres. The skin looks smooth, although it could have fine scales or sparse hair for all we know, and lacks such features as a navel or teats. The legs end in three-toed feet, with one toe a small claw to the rear that may help to grip onto rock, and the others broader and supporting the body weight. The hands have four clawed digits, notably including an opposable thumb, although there is no other indication of tool use.

The head is obviously the most distinctive feature. It's broad with a very short neck and has a wide mouth with reptilian-looking teeth and no apparent nostrils. More significantly, a pair of large serrated pincers, reminiscent of the mandibles of a stag beetle, project from the cheek region. These are stated to be used in attack, and could also grab and manipulate food as it is being eaten or bitten, but a pair of shorter curved tusks positioned medially to the pincers have a less obvious function. They don't even come close to meeting in the middle, so they can't be used in chewing or tearing at anything that could easily fit inside the mouth making it hard to see how they would be used. Finally, there are the eyes, with a close-set pair of vertebrate-like eyes in the middle and a pair of compound eyes positioned on the periphery.

Oddly, the umber hulk is not, in fact, umber, but is black over most of its body with a yellowish-grey patch on what's anatomically the venter. Since their heavy build makes it unlikely that they are agile, and they are certainly very slow-moving, the hide must be as tough as plate steel to give them the stated armour rating. They have their own language and are said to be as intelligent as humans. They live in what appear to be small family groups implying some degree of sociality.

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2E

In 2E, the appearance of the umber hulk changes significantly. They are said to be 'scaly', but the picture only shows a thick hide with sparse hair (there may, of course, be scales too small to see). Heavy plates of what could be either bone or chitin surround the upper arms and thighs and the outer parts of the lower arms - those on the shins may, or may not, wrap around the back. There is an additional armoured nodule over the patella, and what look like scutes on the hands and fingers. Further plates cover the shoulders, the pectorals and the front of the abdomen - the latter including a depression that might contain a navel. All of this goes some way to explaining the armour rating, but it's also worth noting that the unarmoured parts seem to show vertebrate like musculature under the skin, and there's a suggestion of ribs on the chest.

While the hands have the same number of digits as before, including the thumb, the feet have six short claw-like toes that look like they'd have difficulty supporting the creature's weight - the posture shown and the length of the arms suggests that it might knuckle-walk like an ape to compensate for this. The head is entirely enclosed in armour, with the main pincers smoother than before, and the overall shape much narrower. Although we're told the eyes are all small, this only seems to be true of the central pair, which are, in fact, too small to make out whether or not they are vertebrate-like in form. The creature does, however, clearly have antennae, increasing its insectile look.

We're told that they give birth to litters of one to three young and that there is some degree of parental care by the mother. Although they retain humanoid levels of intelligence, there's still no indication of language or even tool use, let alone a meaningful culture.

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3E

In a break with previous interpretations, the 3E umber hulk is now umber coloured. It is also considerably more insectile, with chitinous plates covering almost the whole of the body. Nonetheless, it still has ape-like hands and, of course, remains four-limbed. The limbs are oddly shaped, with massive lower portions and more spindly upper ones, something that would surely cause something of its size and weight difficulties in moving about. We're back to three toes on the feet, all of them short, clawed, and forward-pointing, giving the feet an appearance between those of the two previous editions.

There is more of a neck now, and the head has shifted to a globular shape with a much narrower mouth that makes it possible to use those inner mandibles to help it tear at and eat flesh. There are still no visible nostrils, although there is a row of what could be spiracles along the sides of the chest. The antennae are more prominent and the arrangement of the eyes is different, with the compound ones below and only slightly lateral to the smaller vertebrate-style ones.

Although it still moves slowly, it is slightly more agile than one might expect and its intelligence rating has increased slightly (although still close to the human average). It turns out to be about as strong as a troll, which makes sense for its stated size if not, perhaps, the lack of upper arm musculature.

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5E

After the two previous changes in appearance, the umber hulk remains broadly similar in form in 5E. This version has more solidly built thighs and upper arms than that in 3E and there is more of a suggestion of ribs on the chest (these could, however, just be ridging on the chitinous plates). The head, does, however, shift towards a slightly more insectile look. Specifically, the umber hulk has labial palps beneath the jaw, although quite what they would be used for is unclear. Furthermore, the inner set of eyes, while retaining the position they had in 3E appear to be arthropod-style ocelli rather than vertebrate-like, with no evident pupils, eyelids, or canthi. 

The statistics have, as usual in 5E, been toned down a little, but even so, the umber hulk is now stronger than a troll, and only just short of a hill giant. The intelligence has also dropped back to the original level. Umber hulks were specifically stated to be unable to speak in 4E, but they can in both 3E and 5E, regaining their own unique language in the latter. One oddity is that the tunnels they dig are eight feet tall but only five feet in width (2.4x1.5 metres), implying that they walk upright through them - one would have thought that they would just burrow them head-first, which would surely be quicker, but apparently not.

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The umber hulk then, has become progressively more like an arthropod as its depiction has evolved through the editions. But, even if we ignore the earlier illustrations, this doesn't necessarily mean that it is one, since it obviously has some features that don't fit. The four-limbed form suggests a tetrapod, and the overall shape of the body is closer to that of a tetrapod vertebrate than is that of the similarly quadrupedal rust monster.

The forelimbs, for example, are divided into two segments, separated by an elbow joint. This contrasts with the four segments of an insect leg. The hindlegs are less clearcut, since they appear to have three segments, but its entirely possible that this is a digitigrade stance, with the metacarpals forming the third segment, as they do in dogs and other such animals. The arrangement of the digits on the extremities, especially the hands, support this since, again, they don't look at all insect-like and have same number of phalangeal joints as tetrapod digits. There is also no clear abdomen in the arthropod sense of the word, with the legs being attached at the hips, rather than further forward as they would be on an insect or spider.

If this is correct, it implies that most of the internal anatomy of the umber hulk follows the vertebrate form. There are lungs and a heart in the chest and liver, kidneys, bowels, and so on in the (tetrapod) abdomen. Furthermore, we would expect an internal skeleton that is merely supplemented by the external armour, much as it is in turtles or even armadillos. From a physics perspective, this makes sense, since a pure exoskeleton isn't likely to be strong enough to support the weight of something so large - of course, the existence of ankhegs and the like in the D&D universe implies that things might be different there, so it's not a guarantee.

It's with the head that this most seems to break down. Even so, it's notable that the jaws hinge horizontally, as they do in vertebrates, and each possesses triangular teeth, something they don't do in insects and the like. Countering this we have the "mandibles" which have no clear counterpart in any real-world vertebrate - they don't seem to be tusks like those of an elephant, for example. Thus, while it's plausible that there is a bony skull underneath the chitinous head-sheild, and one complete with a lower jaw, there must also be some major modifications.

Perhaps there are additional bony plates in the angle of the jaw, jointed to the temporal and/or zygomatic bones, to which the mandibles are attached. Or maybe these are dermal plates of chitin, anchored by ligaments to the underlying skull, but not part of its bony structure. There must also be extra openings in the skull, to allow for the additional eyes and for the nerves and blood vessels that supply the antennae.

Attaching compound eyes to a vertebrate nervous system isn't a problem, anatomically speaking, since they still have an optic nerve that works in essentially the same way. Nor is it an issue that the umber hulk must have a double set of optic nerves, since these could attach to the brain close by one another. Similarly, the third, fourth, and sixth cranial nerves, responsible for eye movement, could also be duplicated, although they might not be if the compound eyes, in particular, are fixed in position.

Whether the antennae also need extra nerves depends on what they are for, since this differs in real-world arthropods. The umber hulk has no visible ears, so the antennae could be for sensing sound, in which case, given their position on the head in the 5E illustration, they may simply co-opt the usual auditory nerves. But then again, it has no nostrils, either, so they might smell the air, using, or replacing the usual olfactory nerves. It's also not impossible that the antennae both hear and smell, in which case, either set of cranial nerves is an option.

The lack of nostrils does, however, raise the obvious question of how the creature breathes, especially if we assume that the lungs are in the chest. Here, we must assume a significant departure from the tetrapod norm. There are basically two possibilities, one of which is that the umber hulk breathes only through its mouth, entirely lacking a nasopharynx and nasal cavities, but otherwise with a typical respiratory layout. The other is that the spiracles visible on the sides of the body in 3E and (less clearly) 5E are respiratory openings, implying that multiple short tubes run to the lateral surface of each of the lungs. This would have some advantages, since the animal couldn't choke, and would be rather hard to suffocate by physical action alone - there are a lot of openings to cover up. 

If, on other hand, the spiracles aren't respiratory, they could still be sensory organs, since there's no reason that the organs of smell have to be attached to the breathing apparatus, as we see in a number of non-mammalian animals in the real world.

While the 2E illustration includes what appears to be a navel, implying that umber hulks are mammalian - a primate-like body with an insectile head - the later images do not. Thus, while they are tetrapods, umber hulks probably don't fit within any of the real world tetrapod classes; they're perhaps more like reptiles than anything else, but they aren't literally reptilian. For instance, living underground, in a stable thermal environment with insulating rock above them, they may well be cold-blooded and almost certainly won't have much need to regulate their internal body temperature. 

It seems most likely that umber hulks lay eggs, or perhaps are ovoviviparous, holding the egg inside their body until it hatches but lacking a placenta or umbilical cord. None of the pictures show anything that's identifiable as external genitalia, but, even assuming the pictures aren't of females, they could well retract any intromittent organs into their bodies when not in use, so we can't assume that they aren't there, or in the usual place.

There isn't much to say about the umber hulk's signature power since it's so obviously pure magic. Early descriptions imply that it might have something to do with the odd-looking appearance of the creature confusing those who look at it, but it's not as if it's non-Euclidean, and, anyway, the effect is more potent than mere befuddlement (although less so 5E than it was in 1E). It's also notable that the creature needs to be conscious to use the power, which it is implied is under conscious control and can be turned off if necessary.

D&D Monsters: Bulettes

The bulette is a creature original to D&D. Like the owlbear, it's based on a plastic toy from Hong Kong, in its case probably meant to represent some sort of kaiju, although it's hard to know for sure. It's one of a minority of original monsters to have an actual name right from the start, rather than a descriptive term ('mind flayer', 'carrion crawler', 'trapper'). 

Incidentally, Gygax originally intended the word to be pronounced as "boo-lay", and official material from WoTC, and TSR before them, used to insist on this - and maybe still does. This raises a question, often seen in fantasy literature more generally, of "then why didn't you spell it that way?" In this case, I'll note that both the spelling and the supposed pronunciation appear vaguely French, which may be intentional - although, obviously, they don't match up with one another in that language either...

D&D Monsters: Stirges

The strige is a creature of Roman myth, derived from the earlier Greek strix. It was said to be a nocturnal bird, albeit one that hung upside down like a bat, which drank the blood of infants and possibly even ate the remains. The Greek version of the name has since been adopted as a scientific name for a genus of owl, and, blood-drinking aside, the general description does seem to match owls more than anything else that might exist in the real world. The name later also became associated with witches and with a more humanoid form of vampire, the strigoi. 

In D&D, of course, the name mutates again to the form "stirge". While it looks even less owl-like than the mythic creature, it's still clearly based on it... but is more inclined to attack adults than babies.

D&D Monsters: Griffons and Hippogriffs

The mythic origins of griffons lie in Ancient Greece, if not earlier - a combination of the king of the beasts and the king of the birds. The specific form of that combination was largely cemented by the late Middle Ages into the one we are currently familiar with, and griffons ('griffin' and 'gryphon' are equally valid spellings) are common features in modern fantasy, especially in RPGs. 

The hippogriff, however, is much more modern; it first appears in a poetic work of fiction written in 1516, where it is described as the offspring of a male griffon and a female horse (which, since griffons were thought to kill and eat horses on sight was intended as something miraculous). Although the existence of one may well imply the other, it's possibly more common than the griffon itself in fantasy fiction, with the most famous modern example being that in the Harry Potter books.

Some Thoughts on Gorgons

In Greek mythology, the gorgons were three monstrous sisters whose visage turned people to stone. Detailed descriptions vary, although they typically had snakes for hair. In D&D, however, these beings are known as "medusas", from the name of the specific gorgon slain by Perseus. The creature known as a gorgon in D&D is therefore, something else entirely, an essentially original creation, albeit still with the power of petrifaction, and perhaps partially inspired by the bronze bulls from the story of Jason and the Argonauts.

Some Thoughts on Displacer Beasts

Actually a photoshopped jaguar...

Like their supposed enemies, the blink dogs, displacer beasts have been present in every version of the Dungeon & Dragons game. Apparently based, at least in terms of their physical appearance, on an alien creature featuring in the works of early science fiction writer A.E. van Vogt, their signature power is nonetheless original to the game. They are among the few standard D&D creatures not to be included in the Open Game Licence, so that they are distinct to that game and not to any of its clones/adaptations, such as Pathfinder. But we're not restricted by that here, since we're just providing a review of the thing. So what can we say about them?

Some Thoughts on Blink Dogs

In Basic Edition, blink dogs were said to resemble dingos

Blink dogs are a relatively well-known creature for the D&D game, being entirely original to it, and having been present in every edition since the very beginning. Compared with some other signature creatures, though, there doesn't seem to be much written about them. So let's see what sort of a take I can make on them.

As always, let's begin by seeing what the primary source material has to say about the creatures, using an admittedly incomplete sampling of various editions:

Some Thoughts on Owlbears

No, I'm not very good with Photoshop...

Owlbears are arguably the most distinctive of the "mundane" animals of the standard D&D menagerie. Of course, that's taking a very broad definition of "mundane", referring solely to the fact that they possess no magical powers or particularly unusual abilities. To the people of the world they live in, they're presumably no stranger or more to be feared than tigers, alligators, or rhinoceroses are to us.

In our reality, though, they couldn't exist, since they mix and match mammalian and avian features in a way that doesn't happen in natural evolution. Even in the world of D&D they're usually said to be the creation of some long-dead wizard, rather than something natural - although it's worth noting that other hybrid creatures, such as griffons, aren't regarded in the same way. Still, it's at least interesting, for someone like me who writes a lot about real world animals, to consider how such a creature would work if, somehow, it really existed.

Some Thoughts on Dire Wolves

Yesterday, after watching some early episodes of season six of Game of Thrones, my thoughts turned to dire wolves. Clearly the dire wolves in that show are not the same as the animals of the same name portrayed in the classic RPG Dungeons & Dragons.

But this set me to wondering what the dire wolves of D&D would be like if they actually existed. It's an easier question to consider than what, say, a griffon might be like, since we do at least have real wolves to compare them to. A griffon, by contrast, may have radically different interpretations in different games, novels, or even real-world legends.

But even dire wolves, close though they are to real animals, vary noticeably between different interpretations. Those in GoT appear to be larger, slightly more intelligent versions of real wolves,which doesn't quite fit their depiction in D&D, despite the obviously similar source material. So what could we reasonably say about D&D-style dire wolves?

Let's begin by defining the animal we're talking about. I'll look at the versions in three different editions of the Monster Manual, not using other sources that may have expanded on them (of which there are doubtless many, official and otherwise).