Spoiler: I haven't finished writing my critiques of the monsters, but I will most certainly get to them all. Unfortunately due to (yet another) DQ that I probably don't agree with, there's only a Top 15 this year. This has not helped me get my questionably critical ass in gear.
But that's not what this post is about. This is a preface to the monstrous art of monster creation--and it truly is an art. Sure, there's a ton of statistics for what each CR should have and how things should work and how things need to be balanced. That's not what making a creature is about, as is very clearly demonstrated with the entries in RPGSS this year. They're much more art than science, and while you can break the rules for items or maps or encounters or whatever to make them interesting, breaking the rules for your monster is ten times more important.
A monster needs to shine. Just as we do our mapping a little differently on my ship, I've got a different sort of love for monsters. In much the same vein as mapping, it's all about the cinematic value of a monster for me. I want a monster to evoke a really awesome scene, creating memories and stories shared for years after the encounter.
Obviously, not every encounter can be super-duper memorable. (That'd be a helluva lot of memories.) There's a need for random gobbos and kobolds and orcs to wade into the PCs and get slaughtered for glorious, glorious treasure. After all, the mighty dragon and his very memorable encounter would never have his hoard if he hadn't murdered countless innocents for it.
I'm also not a stickler for balance. Like, at all. I am 100% supportive of throwing entirely unfair fights at my players. Maybe I trust their experience a little too much, or maybe they trust that I'll fudge the dice behind my GM screen just a bit more than usual, or perhaps we all just enjoy seeing underdogs overcome tremendous odds in a mutual storytelling session. Whatever the reason, I've got no eye for the numbers. Overpowered, underpowered: what's the point if the fight doesn't stick in my mind as one worth remembering?
And that, dear readers, brings me to the point of this post.
The reefclaw.
I don't know who drew this, but I love you.
Yep, they're death lobsters. Murderous, poisonous, intelligent death lobsters. And they're delicious.
In my mind, this thing embodies the spirit of creature design--and not just because I can fish for them using stowaways. They take a simple concept and perfect it. "Okay, so hear me out--it's a lobster, but on some serious drugs."
So you've got this low CR monster will a thousand different cool things it can do. It's got a pair of claw attacks, because one claw is for babies. It's got grab, so you can't get away. It's poisonous, so you're not going anywhere with your 6 points of Strength damage. It's amphibious, so don't even think about being safe on the shoreline. It's got ferocity, so it doesn't actually die when it should be dead. And even when it does die, it's got death frenzy to bring you with it. Oh, and it's smart enough to understand you. Better not share your battle tactics out loud, because it might just know which one of you to murder first.
It's just a basic monster. It could be just as boring as every run-of-the-mill kobold. "Oh great, it's got claws again. Meh." But it's not. It's a toolbox of synergy between cinematic value, flavor, and mechanics. You know what's worse than a crocodile death rolling you into the water? Of course you do.
Let's just say my players are more afraid of water in my games than when playing Amnesia: The Dark Descent.
Also, did I mention they're delicious? What's better than a lobster but a giant death lobster made fat on the blood of my enemies?
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