Gelatinous Icosahedron

 Here's another "monster" that is wildly underappreciated and underutilized: the insect swarm, from the Basic Rules. I don't think I've ever used one myself, neither back in the day nor more recently, which is kind of a shame. Let's get into it and see what sort of possibilities such an unconventional monster entry lends itself to. According to the book, an insect swarm may be comprised of various types of insects (or other arthropods such as spiders), either crawling, flying, or both. (Presumably a single swarm is composed of a single type of creature, though.) The swarm has an Armor Class of 7, which is mediocre but still better than an unarmed human, perhaps because of the decentralized nature of the swarm. There's just not a coherent "body" to strike against. In fact, because of the other curious mechanics of the insect swarm, this number is completely, entirely irrelevant; it will never be used in play. The swarm effectively has 2-4 Hit Dice...

 From the second installment in the B series of modules to the penultimate one: B11: King's Festival, by Carl Sargent. Though it was not packaged with a rule set, B11 was billed as an introductory module, complete with DM advice and background information on the wider setting beyond the immediate environs of the module itself. While not a "bad" adventure, it lacks many of the greatest strengths of the earlier modules like B2, and leans on a lot of trends that deviate strongly from the earlier ethos of the game, making it a good module to contrast with the classic Keep on the Borderlands.  Nowhere are these differences in ethos more evident than in the DM advice with which the book opens. To be sure, there are some good bits, but a great deal of it is geared toward running "scripted" adventures, including advice on how to keep players on the rails and how to get them back on if they insist on deviating from the path. That's a stark contrast to Gary's wisd...

 TSR-era D&D produced a plethora of published adventure modules. Some are beloved, some reviled. Some exemplify the modern "old school" ethos and some started D&D down some very dubious paths, which old schoolers today by and large disavow. Some of them made for engaging, fascinating reads, but were problematic at the game table.  In this series, I plan to take a look at some of these old modules for Classic (that is, non-"Advanced") D&D, not necessarily as a reviewer, but really digging into the specifics of what I like, what I don't like, what works and what doesn't, and most importantly, what DMs and authors of today might learn from them. It seems appropriate to kick it off with the module that introduced me to the game, that is still considered a classic among classics, so without further ado, I give you may take on... Module B2: The Keep on the Borderlands, by E. Gary Gygax himself (Spoilers to follow, on the off chance you're not famil...

 The hydra is a monster with deep roots in Greek myth. Like many D&D creatures portrayed as whole types or species, the hydra, too was once unique. It was a many-headed serpent, reputed to have poisonous breath and blood so toxic even the scent of it was deadly, with later incarnations of the myth adding the regeneration of two heads for each one severed. The slaying of the hydra served as the second of the mythic Labors of Hercules.  The standard D&D hydra is toned down a bit from the myth. Though it's a tough beast to be sure, it can be slain by heroes of less than demigod status. The book describes it as having a dragon-like body (minus wings) and 5 to 12 snake-like heads.  The hydra is a bit of an odd duck, mechanically. Its AC of 5 is decent. It has 1d8+4 heads, with 1 HD and 8 hit points for each one. That makes it quite a bit tougher than other monsters of the same HD, on average, since it always has maximum hp. Compare a 10-headed hydra with 80 hp to a typ...

 Horses are one of those entries in the B/X bestiary that exists not because they're interesting as monsters, but because they're creatures that are useful to characters. They're essentially living pieces of equipment, but as such, they need stats like monsters. The book breaks them down into three broad categories: riding, draft, and war. All three have a base AC of 7, which is pretty standard for most animals with no predatory inclinations or particular affinity for combat. Everything else is different among them. Riding horses are the standard we're most familiar with in our modern world. Their purpose is to be sat on and take their riders places. They're capable of a very brisk pace of 240' (80'), or twice the speed of an unencumbered human, and can maintain that speed while carrying up to 3,000 coin weight (300 pounds), including the rider. They can carry up to 600 pounds at half speed, which is still a very respectable 120' (40'). (More on this...

 Well, it's been a few seconds since I last felt inspired to write and post here, but here I am again. An A to Z Monster post feels like a good way to ease back into the flow. We come now to another perennial staple of low-level play: the hobgoblin.  Hobgoblins are described as bigger and meaner relatives of goblins, presumably with a similar appearance (e.g. chalky tan to livid grey complexion, red eyes, etc.) though that is not explicitly stated. Though they live underground, they are able to function in full daylight without penalty, unlike goblins. Mechanically, hobgoblins are exactly what it says on the tin. Their AC of 6 is equal to a goblin, while their 1+1 HD give them an extra couple of hp on average. They are slightly faster at 90' (30') (compared to 60' (20') for goblins), and a bit braver with a Morale score of 8 (vs. the goblin's 7). Their damage is listed as "1-8 or by weapon," so it's implied that they wield swords or perhaps battle ...