We made it. All the way to the end of the book, two years later. 98 Fantastic Beasts turned into D&D monsters.
Some have been unique, weird and wonderful monsters that were a challenge to convert, some were a new version of a pre-existing critter, sometimes less impressive because the description in the book lacks the outlandish abilities in the original’s stats. It’s a slight downer, that the last beast falls into the latter category, but the result is, I think, a different brute of a yeti from what Dungeons & Dragons already has.
This post is for anyone who has ever thought something like “I can’t play Dark Souls, it’s too hard”, or “there’s no way I can ‘git gud’ at these games” or “Dark Souls takes patience and skill”. There’s some truth to this, but I’m here to prove that you are good enough to beat it.
If I can do it, the way I did it, then you can do it to…
One of the aspects that intrigues me about a Megadungeon is how they can feel so ‘lived in’. A standard dungeon might be completely barren of life – just ancient traps and treasures left behind – or it might still be occupied by a big bad monster or evil villain. If you greatly expand the limits of the rooms and landscape within, suddenly theirs room to add whole ecosystems, small pockets of civilisation, clans, potential allies and enemies.
I have an overall idea that several of the layers of my Dungeon23 creation will have humanoid groups living within. Remnants of a bygone age, or people seeking refuge from the calamities outside. As outlined in earlier blog posts, this ‘dungeon’ was a high-tech complex trying to save the world. Whilst it failed, and has since given way to the chaos, collapse and corruption, some pockets of the dungeon still support life.
If nothing else, offering a party potential companions/nemesis that are just trying to survive amongst the aging machinery and monstrous abominations, has the potential to create interesting scenarios and problems for the players to overcome. Unless they blast through human and monster alike without a second thought… that’s okay too.
I was recently looking at a friends Lego Harry Potter set when I observed the Lego Thestral and thought: “Have I missed a monster? I’m half a dozen Fantastic Beasts from completely D&D-ifying the whole book, but I don’t remember seeing the Thestral in it.”
The reason turned out to be that Thestral are a type of Winged Horse, and are mentioned in a single half-sentence. Which is an odd way round in my opinion; in a world of griffons and hippogriffs and dragons and pixies, choosing to define a creatures by the fact that they can fly and not by its ability to be invisible to anyone who has not had a specific trauma is more than slightly odd.
What this does also mean, as I round on the penultimate entry in Fantastic Beast and Where to Find Them,that I actually need to create three different stat Blocks for the Winged Horse.
Fancy a new adventure? What about a ‘choose your own adventure‘, where what happens next is decided by the comments section? This is Comment Quest.
You see a Goblin
PART 1 – You See a Goblin
It has only been a few months since you left home to seek fame and fortune as an adventurer. To slay monsters, rescue villagers, to become a true hero praised and respected everywhere you go. To see what this strange and mysterious world has in store for the intrepid traveller.
When I saw the Transformers: Rise of the Beasts trailer, I was excited. If you have only seen one or two (or all five) of the Bay movies, you would be forgiven for not sharing in my enthusiasm. On the other hand, if you’ve seen Bumblebee, you should be very hopeful. In my opinion.
This is not a mini-blog to gush about that movie though. I could. The first five minute action sequence shames the first five movies all on its own with its awesomeness. I’m not here to do that though. I’m here to point out a really specific moment.
When the very first Transformers movie was announced, I had a very VERY specific hope:
I wanted to see a Transformer perform a handbrake turn into a transforming, flying punch like the intro of the original cartoon. (Like I say, very specific)
Six movies later, it happened:
Beautiful reality
I went back and watched this scene multiple times, with childhood glee. It just has to be deliberate. Someone working on this show was such a massive fan of the cartoon, that they wanted to same thing as I did. I can’t believe for a moment that this choreography is a coincidence.
I also had a very selfish thought: This was clearly made just for me.
That’s how little moments like this feel. A very specific want from a movie, song, game, play… and that need is met. A lot about Bumblebee did this for the child in me.
How about you? Was something made just for you? In part or completely tailored to your demands and desires? Too perfect to be an accident?
Gamer Peak 