#riftwitch

[thesilkenlair]

(Casey Here!)

As much D&D as I play, you'd imagine I would eventually get around to illustrating some of their most iconic monsters! Which is to say, the ones that I personally find the most iconic. Which is to say, the ones I memorized when I was reading my dad's monster manual at age nine. Purple worm - Sandworms never go out of style. I've seen a lot of rad designs for this bugger over the editions, but I favor the slightly less reptilian older takes for this particular critter. It's kinda basic, but sometimes that's what you want. It's like a shark or a crocodile: Just flat out unchanged across the ages. Hook horror - I've heard it rumored that Gygax used a small Gigan figure to represent this monster. I can't verify that, but it definitely sounds right. Hook horrors are one of the very first things you meet when you play around in the caves, and they kind of remind me of the Father Deep monsters of the Hork Bajir homeworld that way. Mind flayer - Mind flayers! Basically, take all of your Dracula conventions and dip them in a fresh coat of Lovecraft. There's that old "decadent aristocratic upper caste system who literally eats the poor, but still somehow comes across as less evil than the actual real life 1%" setup that will never stop being relevant. Though personally, I see mind flayers as the first alternative for folks who want to play that monster-who-feels-the-urge-to-eat-their-friends-but-refuses-to-do-it shtick but don't want to deal with vampire baggage. You know, the furry option! ... Slimy? Rubbery? Do we have a word for anthro-cephalopods? I'm only a casual furry. Gelatinous cube - I'm not apologizing for giving this one a slot. Froghemoth - So, back when I participated in my very first long-term campaign, I played a druid. You've met Talia before. Naturally, I was chomping at the bit for the day I finally got to turn her into a froghemoth, and celebrated the day my wish was finally granted and she was allowed to chug human-supremacist-cultists like popcorn. Yeah, okay, the froghemoth is one of the classic vore-monsters. But it's a charming design in its own right. Kind of a freaky Hanna Barbara critter, like you'd see Space Ghost fighting. No matter how many artists draw it, they can never shake that inherent goofiness that third edition tried so hard to purge. I would probably cram them somewhere onto Fronterra if I was sure they were public domain. As is, I'm 99% certain that this is what Visser Three turned into when he ate Elfangor. Tarrasque - D&D's original kaiju! Kind of just takes the name and nothing else when it comes to its mythological origins, but I don't mind. The Tarrasque is that endgame "let's test the players" final boss monster... Or at least it's supposed to be. My DM reskinned it for our final Pathfinder session, and one of the PCs still nearly killed it in a single turn. Also, he let Talia turn into one, so maybe Pathfinder is just bullshit? Regardless, the Tarrasque has one of those simple, iconic designs. I've heard rumors it was based on the concept art for Fallout's deathclaws, and like the Gigan-figure, I can't verify this in any way. With its reptilian features, twin horns, spiny carapace and grabby fingies, it has an undeniable lizardlike quality that I can't help but find charming. Kinda feels like a more refined version of Zilla? Though for an insatiable eating machine, I notice a lot of artists give it very little belly to work with. Come on, this guy eats entire cities! Give him somewhere to put it! Rust monster - An icon of icons, the rust monster! Drawing its origin from a bizarre Chinese "dinosaur" toy, later designs have made it more insectoid in appearance, but never feeling QUITE like anything Earthly. It's the four limbs. Between the four limbs and the tail, it's hard to tell if it's an arthropod mimicking a vertebrate or the other way around. I'm pretty sure this is part of what inspired my ossaderm creatures for Fronterra. Also, Ryla can turn into one in our campaign. I have no shortage of havoc to wreak when the opportunity comes. Behir - Dragons in D&D are kind of... extra. Godlike beings, paragons of whatever personality trait they represent. Whenever there's something uber powerful in D&D, it gets compared to dragons. It makes them kind of unapproachable. Behirs provide all the essentials of a dragon - Serpentine body, scaly skin, horns, sapience, breath weapon, taste for human flesh - wrapped up in a smaller, weirder, IMO cooler package. You know, your Lambton Worms. A lot easier to port in and out of adventures, a lot less of an event when they show up, but still a formidable force in their own right. I like the behir. The behir knows how to taunt me just the right amount. Bulette - Another Chinese "dinosaur" figure monster, the bulette is actually another one I associate with Talia. Whenever we faced a problem that didn't have a glaringly and immediately obvious solution, she would turn into a bulette, whether it was for beating up robots, digging through obstacles, trampling smurfs, navigating labyrinths, distracting slashers with cute dog tricks... it was kind of her signature form. But shenanigans aside, the bulette is just an excellent monster. While the "land shark" shtick may be common, there's a lot more going on with the bulette's design. It's rumored to be a mad wizard's creation, as he combined a snapping turtle with an armadillo and mixed in a helping of demon blood to taste. Personally, I always considered that to be a neat little rumor to flesh out the world, but never assumed it to be true. The bulette just feels too naturalistic for that. Like some kind of protomammal or crocodylomorph, or weird triassic monstrosity. Magic and demons and dragons and so on DO affect the ecosystem. I always figured the bulette was just something that evolved to compete in this new biosphere. Owlbear - This one, on the other hand, I fully believe the "mad wizard was bored" explanation. Another chinasaur critter, the owlbear is frequently made fun of. What makes it scarier than a regular bear? It can't fly, so why have owl parts at all? Why trade fangs for a beak in what is at best a latural move? Well, first of all, fuck you, owls are creepy motherfuckers, and that alone is enough to justify it. But secondly, that's part of its charm. Besides some improved vision, the owl DOESN'T make it more dangerous. What makes the owlbear dangerous is that it's an insane, Frankensteinian monstrosity roaming uncontrolled through the wilderness! It doesn't need weaponry, its sheer temperament is enough to make it a worthy opponent. Sure, the practical threat might not be hugely above that of a bear, but storytelling isn't about numbers. Any asshole can go outside and get eaten by a bear. The owlbear is part of this world. The owlbear is a reminder of what magic can do. Someone somewhere actually made this thing, for whatever reason, and now the world is irrevocably changed because of it. Owlbears go beyond practicality. They bring the lore! Also, bears don't have very good eyesight, so the big owl eyes probably make them better hunters. Flumph - Is that a Japanese-style martian? Do we just have aliens in D&D? Dear lord, I love them! Okay, the flumph has got a sizable hatedom. And that hatedom can eat my ass, because the flumph is precious and perfect just the way it is! Flumphs are designed as a sort of sidekick-type creature. They're not very good fighters, but they bring knowledge and lore to the table. Whether they're aliens from some far off star, seeking your aid to prevent catastrophe, or psionic natives of the Underdark eager to bask in your positivity and hopefully stick it to the tyrants they're forced to share real estate with. My group generally treats them as straight up aliens, benevolent but strange. Course, we're all pretty strange, so we get along just fine. Otyugh - Okay so, the aberration creature type implies that this is something from another world that doesn't belong. And yet otyughs, which are aberrations, are an essential part of this world's ecosystem? Okay, I can buy the idea that an alien organism adapted to our world and is now a key part of it. Fronterra's got a TON of that. It just feels like after a point, the otyugh would be considered a beast? Otyughs are great. Every ecosystem needs a decomposer, and every fantasy story needs at least one dive into the sewers. Otyughs provide both, and are intelligent enough to keep the plot moving if it hits a snag. There's always going to be garbage, refuse, carrion, decay, things that need to be broken down and processed. Carrion crawler - The carrion crawler is pretty similar to the otyugh in that it's technically not considered a beast, and therefor must have its origins elsewhere, but feels so integrated into the ecosystem that it just feels like it belongs. They usually can't talk, so they're not just reskinned otyughs, but I still consider them pretty essential. Otyughs find a singular spot where waste is dumped and shovel it down at their leisure, while carrion crawlers skulk through the tunnels, actively seeking their food. The crawler got one of the most radical redesigns on the transition from second to third edition, but I can't really choose a single favorite. The oldschool tentacle-faced cutworm looks like it could be a real animal, while the googly-eyed Halloween decoration feels like it could be from another world, merely having set up shop here. Could there name apply to two wholly different creatures? If so, then I'm not sure which one mine would be considered. I kinda mashed them together into something that doesn't quite feel like either. But I like it for what it is. Maybe I'll sneak it onto Fronterra. Aboleth - Tentacled, telepathic sea creatures who turn humans into slimy minions, who remember everything their race has ever seen, and who are always plotting something behind the scenes. Yeah, the aboleths really crank up the Lovecraft elements. Actually, between the mind flayers, the flumphs and the aboleths, even the most oldschool D&D covered quite a few essential Lovecraftian bases. The flayers are your corrupt yet still recognizable humanoids who can be considered truly evil, the flumphs are benevolent-yet-bizarre guardians who know more than you, and the aboleths are the truly unknowable, sinister intellects. The fact that they can barely function on land honestly only adds to that, IMO. They're inherently difficult for a party to reach, and they offer some nice underwater adventure seeds. Not enough adventures go underwater. There's this perception that the ocean is bad for storytelling because so many writers lack the creativity to make it work. I wanna run an underwater adventure now. Beholder - Icon of icons! THE D&D monster! The beholder! Paranoid, jumpy, always five steps ahead and twenty steps perpendicular! Beholds are fun in just about every way. Between their wacky, diverse designs, their elaborate lairs, their eccentric personalities, their bizarre powers, you're never gonna run out of fun with beholders. Remorhaz - It's always been a thing that bothered me with environment-based monsters. Why does the ice monster who lives in the cold use ice as a weapon? Aren't most of the things it encounters going to be resistant to the cold? Sure, a cone of cold will still kill a polar bear, but a lot of the monsters in the tundra are outright immune to cold. A while dragon's not going to get much use out of its breath weapon fighting frost worms and frost giants. That's one reason the remorhaz sticks out to be. We have an icy tundra beast whose insides are a scorching furnace, which it can intensify and weaponize as it sees fit. Which also conveniently explains why its design - a sort of cobra-esque centipede - invokes warm-weather creatures, despite its icy environment. It's a nice subversion of the usual tropes, plus it's just a memorable, cool looking critter to begin with. On a smaller note, the remorhaz feels like a good loophole for Ryla's "no cold weather morphs" rule. Turning into something elementally affiliated with ice is no good, but a non-magical monster that survives the cold by superheating its insides? That seems perfectly viable to me!

[nazrigar]

My friend @riftwitch drew this fan-art of my main characters in my comic, Disaster Dog!

Excuse me while I squee in delight.

For those outta the loop, the Elf girl’s name is Gwynna, whose responsible for taking care of and watching over a magical, disaster prone doggo, as part of her college course. He’s the titular Disaster Dog.

[tyrantisterror]

The Monsterverse seems to be going in a very Showa-esque direction right now, and one of the Showa series' most endearing aspects was how the movies were about people from ALL walks of life, and how they get involved in kaiju shenanigans. A few years ago, I'd have thought the possibility of getting more of that was nil, but after what we've had so far? I feel like anything's possible!

It’s gonna be hard to top a group of partying youths stowing away on a master thief’s boat and crashing on an island that’s been taken over by a diabolical organization of James Bond style supervillain terrorists, but I’d love to see them try.

[mmmskulljuice]

I uh- Oh DREAM yeah right ahahaha of course it was just a not real thing that didn’t happen!! (winks into camera while oozing)

[tyrantisterrorart]

This is @riftwitch‘s OC Ryla!  This commission really helped me out of a jam, so check her out!  If you’d like to commission me to draw your OC, my info his here.

[julienbrightside]

A colored sketch featuring a certain someone going for a walk with their pet kaiju.

http://riftwitch.tumblr.com/

[theload]

Riftwitch’s Prize

@riftwitch here is your prize for entering the contest.

Have you heard the legend of the Evening Phantom? Come, sit by the fire, and I will tell you about her.

On nights such as this, when the sky is clear, and the air is crisp, if you look up at the stars you may see a figure pass over them. That is the Phantom, flying through the skies.

No one is sure what the Phantom is. Some say she is a demon, come to steal the souls of the damned, come to rip children from their mothers' arms, and spirit them away to her feed her own monstrous brood. Some say she is a goddess, not unkind but fickle. If you please her, she will bless your family for a thousand lifetimes. If you enrage her, she will reduce all you know and love to ash.

No one knows which is true, though I have heard it told that she has stolen children before. Not to eat, nor to feed to her own clutch, but to make her own clutch. When men rise up against her people, when too many dragons die, and not enough are born, the Phantom will appear in the sky, to cart away the sons and daughters of man, and change them, sculpt them new bodies of fire and scales, so that dragons may know the joys of raising them. Let it be known, this happens rarely, and only to those who deserve it. The Phantom had her first son stolen from her, and knows the pain of loosing a child. It is not a pain she would lightly inflict upon others.

Some say that the Phantom has scales forged from moonlight, and horns molded from the inky black which lies between the stars. She certainly shines in the night sky, when the moon is round and fat, if you see her fly you will notice her scales are not black, but rather a pale color, white from this distance. Whether the story about her horns is true as well, I cannot tell you.  I have never seen her up close, and only know the stories. But they do seem black, just as her scales seem white, so I see no reason to doubt the tales. Black is as noble a color as any, for a dragon's horns and claws.

Her eyes, on the other hand, are a different story. No one can seem to agree on what color they are. Some believe them to be red, two balls of fury glowing in her skull, like the embers of hell themselves. Others tell that they are a cool, gentle green, like the color of fresh grass, or an unripened fruit. The color of life, many say, which would certainly fit some of the stories. The Phantom is said to wield a tremendous amount of power over the elements of nature, though to say she is one with life itself, that I think is a folly. She is strong, yes, powerful, yes, wise, yes, but she is not life, anymore than you or I am.

How do I know all these things? My, how curious you are. But it is getting late, the moon is rising, and it is almost time for the Phantom to fly. It it time for children to be tucked away in bed, not out about asking questions. Perhaps, if you behave yourself tonight, I will answer your questions tomorrow. Perhaps tomorrow your parents will allow you to stay up later, to watch as the Phantom takes flight. If you are lucky, and if you look hard, you may see her wide wide wings cross over the stars, see her shadow over the moon. If the light is right, and you look carefully, perhaps you'll even see her eyes. If you do, you'll have to tell me if they are red or green.

The story teller smiled as her tale finished, and the children of the village were carted off to bed. She looked up at the sky, saw a star streak by, and wordlessly the story teller was gone, replaced by a pale scaled dragon soaring high overhead.

[thesilkenlair]

I love the pteranodon in the opening credits for Jonny Quest - and its pallet swap, Turu the Terrible - because they explicitly ARE pteranodons, but they have those jagged jack-o-lantern beaks. Like, the artists know that “pteranodon” means “winged and toothless” so they just decided to keep the menacing silhouette of a tooth-filled beak, but changed it just enough that it’s not technically a contradiction.

Of the two color schemes, I definitely prefer the one from the opening. The soft blues look like they would be good for camouflaging against the sky, and that wonderful bone-white beak is just delightfully gruesome. But that’s not to knock the “black-hatted fiend” vibe that Turu himself gives off.