Every strike is deliberate, every step is honed over decades. A martial master doesn’t overpower foes—they dismantle them, turning speed, balance, and flawless technique into an inescapable lesson in discipline.
When stars collapse into black holes, not even light can escape the surface. But occasionally, very rarely when there is not a single pair of eyes in the universe even flitting towards the newly birthed black hole, something else can escape. Something that inherits the churning, black darkness and the intense gravity of its birthplace, and speeds away faster from that sinkhole of death than anyone can follow it.
Black holes incarnate. Many people ask questions about the origins of the horizon mongrels, the creatures called after the black boundary of certain death and crushing gravity near an imploded star. Very few people have answers that aren’t an overactive imagination. Where the mongrels really come from, no one is quite certain, but it’s clear that the patch of space that spits them out is darker and emptier than any other.
Flashing nightmares. Mongrels are solitary creatures that seem to be either completely uninterested in their own kind of entirely unaware of them. Rather, a mongrel seeks out places where the flow of spacetime is warped in some way, or even broken. Powerful graviturges often find themselves hunted by a mongrel, which is capable of great destruction should it ever arrive at its unfortunate victim’s doorstep. And as fast as it appears, it is gone - since they are often not much more than a flash of jaws and choking, crushing gravity, leaving nothing behind.
Slowing down time. The mongrels that have been studied seem to live at a faster pace than most creatures, slowing down their internal clock and allowing them to attain lifetimes of aeons. The only true weapon anyone has against a mongrel is to attempt to slow it, forcing it to experience time at a different speed, which seems to draw out some of its few weaknesses. Stopping a mongrel in its tracks entirely, well... it might just kill it.
It was a Seaharvest Festival like any other. Adolescents from nearby towns and villages were cavorting, imbibing, and generally enjoying the festivies as they celebrated the successes of a bountiful fishing season. The bonfires were lit, the music was lively, the heat of the sand encouraged lively dancing, and the cool oceans provided refreshing relief from the midday sun. The harvesters knew nothing of the dangers that lurked in the shallows, waiting for a swimmer to veer from the crowds, waiting to strike and tear them to shreds under the cover of the waves.
The locals couldn't have known that, for many months prior, the waters off the coast were being used as arcane dumping grounds. A reclusive mage had been engaging in strange experiments, trying to discover new means of increasing his magical prowess. The tests were fruitful, but resulted in large amounts of waste material. Rather than finding a means of safely destroying or securing the sludge, he instead left it to his assistants to dispose of them out at sea. These waste products accumulated in the waters and interacted with the local fish and sea anemone population, mutating and corrupting their forms to the point of unrecognizability. The resulting abominations were newly awakened and compelled with an unquenchable rage that drove them to attack any living creature they came across and consume their blood to empower their mutated forms.
The attacks started as isolated incidents, a body washing up on the shore, a beloved pet disappearing in the night, a carriage found abandoned on the road with tracks leading off into a nearby quarry. Survivors had mixed visual reports but consistently noted the smell of dead fish marking the arrival of these horrors. Although they appeared somewhat humanoid, their composite nature left them largely impervious to normal physical attacks, and attempting to sever a head or limb would only result in having to deal with multiple smaller creatures, as each part could operate independently.
Ultimately, their aquatic origin proved the key to discovering their demise. Their bodies were particularly susceptible to desiccation, and could be burned away with the introduction of a sufficient supply of salts or by removing them from the sea for long periods of time. The community rallied their efforts and pushed back against the horrors, systematically burning away their bodies and salting the ponds in which they hid until none remained. The mage was condemned and banished for his experiments, and by the next year the Seaharvest Festival returned in full force.
Over time, people forgot the details of the horrors that terrorized their little beach party, but the lessons stuck well: respect the seas and the natural order, and dont leave reclusive wizards to their experiments unattended.
Attributes
Medium aberration, chaotic evil
Armor Class: 17 (natural armor)
Hit Points: 237 (25d8 + 125)
Speed: 25 ft., swim 40 ft.
STR: 19 (+4)
DEX: 10 (+0)
CON: 20 (+5)
INT: 6 (-2)
WIS: 16 (+3)
CHA: 3 (-4)
Saving Throws: CON +9, WIS +7
Skills Athletics +8, Perception +7
Damage Immunities necrotic, poison; bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing from nonmagical attacks that aren't silvered
Condition Immunities poisoned, stunned
Senses darkvision 60 ft., blindsight 60 ft. while underwater, passive Perception 17
Languages —
Challenge 12 (8,400 XP)
Proficency Bonus +4
Special Traits
Amphibious. The seaharvest horror can breathe air and water.
Magic Weapons. The seaharvest horror's melee weapon attacks are magical.
Pack Tactics. The seaharvest horror has advantage on attack rolls against a creature if at least one of the horror's allies is within 5 feet of the creature and the ally isn't incapacitated.
Regeneration. The seaharvest horror regains 25 hit points (or 10 hit points if Small) at the start of its turn if it has at least 1 hit point. If the horror is desiccated or takes damage from salt (see Weaknesses), this trait doesn’t function at the start of the horror's next turn.
Split. When a seaharvest horror is subjected to slashing damage, a body part falls off and splits into a new horror if the original horror has at least 10 hit points. The new seaharvest horror has 10 hit points, it is size Small, its speed is halved, and it cannot take the Multiattack or Rotting Cloud actions. If a Small seaharvest horror reaches at least 50 hit points, it grows to Medium size and regains all its actions and speeds.
Weaknesses. The seaharvest horror has the following flaws:
Salt. If salt is thrown at the seaharvest horror, it takes 28 (8d6) fire damage. Water Dependency. The seaharvest horror becomes desiccated if it isn't immersed in water for at least one hour each day. While desiccated, it has disadvantage on all attacks, ability checks, and saving throws.
Actions
Multiattack. The seaharvest horror makes up to two melee attacks.
Vampiric Claws. Melee Weapon Attack: +8 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 17 (3d8 + 4) slashing damage. The target’s hit point maximum is reduced by an amount equal to the damage taken, and the seaharvest horror regains hit points equal to that amount. The reduction lasts until the target finishes a long rest. The target dies if this effect reduces its hit point maximum to 0.
Rotting Cloud (Recharge 5-6). The seaharvest horror emits a putrid cloud of death and decay in a 10-foot radius sphere centered on the horror. All other creatures within the cloud must make a DC 17 Constitution saving throw. On a failed save, a creature takes 22 (4d10) poison damage and is poisoned for 1 hour. On a successful save, the damage is halved and the creature is not poisoned.
[id: monster stat block for seaharvest horror, depicting a monster based on the antagonist from the movie "The Horror of Party Beach" emerging from the water, its body covered in dripping scales, each arm ending in three sharp claws, its head has a beak full of sea anemone-like teeth and fins]
As requested, more hag related homebrews!
A death hag is a fearsome opponent, capable of dealing vast swathes of damage through her innate spellcasting and undead minions. Combine that with a rapidly regenerating form and hardly resistances, and you have yourselves a very nasty piece of work.
Art by Eva Widermann
Like my stuff? Consider checking me out on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Patreon and the Dmsguild!
This monstrous eel clouds the seas with venomous plumes, its blood as lethal as its fangs. Sailors say the water itself turns against you when it is wounded, a drifting poison tide from which there is no escape.
💬 If this beast bled into the depths around you, would you flee—or risk the poisoned waters?
Missed spells don’t fade—they charge. Each arcane failure fuels this rune-etched sentinel, storing raw power like a storm in a bottle. And when the sigils flare? Then may already be to late for another one.