Scorpion-tailed Manticore FTW

In a previous post about The Arduin Grimoires, I mentioned my affection for scorpion-tailed Manticores.

I was pleased to see a scorpion-tailed Manticore featured on the front cover of one of my recently-acquired Appendix N books, A Spell For Chameleon, by Piers Anthony.

The idea of a poisonous sting is far more interesting than mere iron spikes flung from the Manticore's tail.

The illustration on the front cover of A Spell For Chameleon almost suggests a sphinx-like role for the Manticore, acting as the gate-keeper into another area of the megadungeon.

The important role of riddle-master has been largely discarded from recent versions of DnD. Players of modern versions of DnD want atmosphere and menace, and monsters that are meant to be vanquished and robbed.

As I mentioned in my earlier post about the Displacer Beast, i'd love to see monster placements that were intended to elicit role-playing, rather than experience point and treasure acquisition.

Scorpion-tailed Manticore FTW

In a previous post about The Arduin Grimoires, I mentioned my affection for scorpion-tailed Manticores.

I was pleased to see a scorpion-tailed Manticore featured on the front cover of one of my recently-acquired Appendix N books, A Spell For Chameleon, by Piers Anthony.

The idea of a poisonous sting is far more interesting than mere iron spikes flung from the Manticore's tail.

The illustration on the front cover of A Spell For Chameleon almost suggests a sphinx-like role for the Manticore, acting as the gate-keeper into another area of the megadungeon.

The important role of riddle-master has been largely discarded from recent versions of DnD. Players of modern versions of DnD want atmosphere and menace, and monsters that are meant to be vanquished and robbed.

As I mentioned in my earlier post about the Displacer Beast, i'd love to see monster placements that were intended to elicit role-playing, rather than experience point and treasure acquisition.

David Trampier And The Giant Spider

Here is another black and white David Trampier illustration, a full page treatment of an adventuring party and a Giant Spider. This illustration appears in the 1977 Advanced Dungeons and Dragons Monster Manual.

I love the off-camera character, on the right side of the illustration, pointing at the giant spider, with the halfling beside him displaying a stunned or horrified look.

The rest of the party is clearly oblivious to their imminent doom, instead focused on some other off-camera dungeon feature, and only vaguely interested in the sticky web barring their way, with the fighter lazily attempting to cut through the strands. Or perhaps the magic user and dwarf are cautioning the fighter against or encouraging him into using the torch on the web.

Note that the fighter is not your buff, plated superhero, but looks to be rather modestly furnished with a backpack, sword and scale or chainmail armor. The dwarf seems to be wearing splint mail and has a shield strapped to his back. I think its also interesting that the fighter is the party member carrying the torch. Did it get passed to him just before the events depicted in this picture?

Another fine example of implied narrative from Tramp. How will this scene resolve itself? Will the party be surprised, and the fighter felled by the poison of the Giant Spider? Or will they notice the spider lurking above, and succeed in defeating it and collecting its treasure?

David Trampier And The Giant Spider

Here is another black and white David Trampier illustration, a full page treatment of an adventuring party and a Giant Spider. This illustration appears in the 1977 Advanced Dungeons and Dragons Monster Manual.

I love the off-camera character, on the right side of the illustration, pointing at the giant spider, with the halfling beside him displaying a stunned or horrified look.

The rest of the party is clearly oblivious to their imminent doom, instead focused on some other off-camera dungeon feature, and only vaguely interested in the sticky web barring their way, with the fighter lazily attempting to cut through the strands. Or perhaps the magic user and dwarf are cautioning the fighter against or encouraging him into using the torch on the web.

Note that the fighter is not your buff, plated superhero, but looks to be rather modestly furnished with a backpack, sword and scale or chainmail armor. The dwarf seems to be wearing splint mail and has a shield strapped to his back. I think its also interesting that the fighter is the party member carrying the torch. Did it get passed to him just before the events depicted in this picture?

Another fine example of implied narrative from Tramp. How will this scene resolve itself? Will the party be surprised, and the fighter felled by the poison of the Giant Spider? Or will they notice the spider lurking above, and succeed in defeating it and collecting its treasure?

Old School Monsters: Displacer Beast

At the risk of attracting the Hentacle and cosplay crowd, i'm going to post about the tentacled Displacer Beast (apparently the pet of the Dirty Pair), a criminally underutilized Dungeons and Dragons villain.

The Displacer Beast is no ordinary old-school monster. Simply describing the Displacer Beast as a monster fails to do justice to the Displacer Beast's potential.

The Displacer Beast is a fascinating addition to the DnD universe, appearing very early in the bestiaries of the Dungeons and Dragons role playing game. The Displacer Beast dates back to the 1975 Greyhawk D&D supplement and is based on an antagonist created by A. Elton van Vogt in 1939. That creature is the Coeurl, and appears in the story "Black Destroyer". It, along with the Ixtl from van Vogt's "Discord In Scarlet", provided inspiration for the Aliens Movie cycle.

In Dungeons and Dragons, the Displacer Beast is described as a black, six-legged, puma-like creature, with at least two tentacles sprouting from its back. The original 1977 AD&D Monster Manual does not tell us how big it is. However, it has six hit dice, suggesting that it is fairly large.
In the DnD mythology, the Displacer Beast and the Blink Dog are described as mortal enemies, not surprising since Displacer Beasts are evil and Blink Dogs, good. Pictured above is a pack of Blink Dogs, chowing down on a dead Displacer Beast. This looks to be a David Trampier piece, but someone can correct me on that score. The bottom illustration from the 1977 Monster Manual is definitely Trampier.

The image below is from Tony DiTerlizzi's blog. He was the illustrator for the 1994 Monstrous Manual Displacer Beast. In the Monstrous Manual, we discover that the Displacer Beast is eight to 12 feet long. It's notable ability is that it appears to be "displaced" several feet from its actual position. A rather banal ability, which simply makes it more difficult to hit in combat. Yawn.

I say that the Displacer Beast is an underutilized villain, because the creature on which it is based makes for an interesting denizen within the first three levels of a dungeon. To give you a sense of its potential, I give you a passage from a review of Voyage of the Space Beagle, from The Quill & The Keyboard:

"Coeurl (the Displacer Beast) tries to pass himself off to the Earthmen as an animal worthy of study, but his insatiable hunger, criminal nature, and contempt for the primitive visitors exposes him to suspicion after he murders one of the crew. Soon it is a battle of wits as Coeurl keeps the Earthmen guessing while the explorers try to determine the alien's guilt and the extent of its incredible powers."

Not all dungeon denizens are meant to be fought, at least not initially. In the case of the Displacer Beast, this creature is better utilized as a source of adventure hooks.

In Voyage of the Space Beagle, the Coeurl needs to feed off the id of its' prey. What if the id is analogous to hit dice, and the Displacer Beast gets more bang-for-the-buck from those with higher hit dice?

To use a mathematical analogy, suppose that the satisfaction the Displacer Beast derives from feeding is the square of the hit dice. So a player, or monster that the Displacer Beast feeds on, that is 3rd level or three hit dice, provides nine times as much satisfaction to the Displacer Beast as a 1st level or one hit dice monster. He needs to eat nine first-level players to get the same satisfaction as one 3rd level monster.

The Displacer Beast then, rather than killing a party, encourages them to capture high hit dice monsters (say, a couple of Ogres that "stole and item from him") and bring them to him. The Players need not know that the Displacer Beast is using the party to feed his evil hunger.

The Displacer Beast may promise them rewards for doing so, and may be a reliable source of information, so the players acquiesce to the Displacer Beast's requests that they capture and deliver monsters to him. Eventually, however, the players should discover why the Displacer Beast is doing that, or they get to a sufficiently high level that the Displacer Beast views them as a tasty meal.

To protect the Displacer Beast from harm, at least initially, I would suggest that the Displacer Beast be able to create a field of darkness around itself, from which it parlays with the adventurers. Hints as to who is speaking from the darkness may be dropped, by occasionally having a tentacle wave from the darkness, and allow the dispel magic, light or dispel darkness spells to interfere with this creature's field of darkness ability.

Old School Monsters: Displacer Beast

At the risk of attracting the Hentacle and cosplay crowd, i'm going to post about the tentacled Displacer Beast (apparently the pet of the Dirty Pair), a criminally underutilized Dungeons and Dragons villain.

The Displacer Beast is no ordinary old-school monster. Simply describing the Displacer Beast as a monster fails to do justice to the Displacer Beast's potential.

The Displacer Beast is a fascinating addition to the DnD universe, appearing very early in the bestiaries of the Dungeons and Dragons role playing game. The Displacer Beast dates back to the 1975 Greyhawk D&D supplement and is based on an antagonist created by A. Elton van Vogt in 1939. That creature is the Coeurl, and appears in the story "Black Destroyer". It, along with the Ixtl from van Vogt's "Discord In Scarlet", provided inspiration for the Aliens Movie cycle.

In Dungeons and Dragons, the Displacer Beast is described as a black, six-legged, puma-like creature, with at least two tentacles sprouting from its back. The original 1977 AD&D Monster Manual does not tell us how big it is. However, it has six hit dice, suggesting that it is fairly large.
In the DnD mythology, the Displacer Beast and the Blink Dog are described as mortal enemies, not surprising since Displacer Beasts are evil and Blink Dogs, good. Pictured above is a pack of Blink Dogs, chowing down on a dead Displacer Beast. This looks to be a David Trampier piece, but someone can correct me on that score. The bottom illustration from the 1977 Monster Manual is definitely Trampier.

The image below is from Tony DiTerlizzi's blog. He was the illustrator for the 1994 Monstrous Manual Displacer Beast. In the Monstrous Manual, we discover that the Displacer Beast is eight to 12 feet long. It's notable ability is that it appears to be "displaced" several feet from its actual position. A rather banal ability, which simply makes it more difficult to hit in combat. Yawn.

I say that the Displacer Beast is an underutilized villain, because the creature on which it is based makes for an interesting denizen within the first three levels of a dungeon. To give you a sense of its potential, I give you a passage from a review of Voyage of the Space Beagle, from The Quill & The Keyboard:

"Coeurl (the Displacer Beast) tries to pass himself off to the Earthmen as an animal worthy of study, but his insatiable hunger, criminal nature, and contempt for the primitive visitors exposes him to suspicion after he murders one of the crew. Soon it is a battle of wits as Coeurl keeps the Earthmen guessing while the explorers try to determine the alien's guilt and the extent of its incredible powers."

Not all dungeon denizens are meant to be fought, at least not initially. In the case of the Displacer Beast, this creature is better utilized as a source of adventure hooks.

In Voyage of the Space Beagle, the Coeurl needs to feed off the id of its' prey. What if the id is analogous to hit dice, and the Displacer Beast gets more bang-for-the-buck from those with higher hit dice?

To use a mathematical analogy, suppose that the satisfaction the Displacer Beast derives from feeding is the square of the hit dice. So a player, or monster that the Displacer Beast feeds on, that is 3rd level or three hit dice, provides nine times as much satisfaction to the Displacer Beast as a 1st level or one hit dice monster. He needs to eat nine first-level players to get the same satisfaction as one 3rd level monster.

The Displacer Beast then, rather than killing a party, encourages them to capture high hit dice monsters (say, a couple of Ogres that "stole and item from him") and bring them to him. The Players need not know that the Displacer Beast is using the party to feed his evil hunger.

The Displacer Beast may promise them rewards for doing so, and may be a reliable source of information, so the players acquiesce to the Displacer Beast's requests that they capture and deliver monsters to him. Eventually, however, the players should discover why the Displacer Beast is doing that, or they get to a sufficiently high level that the Displacer Beast views them as a tasty meal.

To protect the Displacer Beast from harm, at least initially, I would suggest that the Displacer Beast be able to create a field of darkness around itself, from which it parlays with the adventurers. Hints as to who is speaking from the darkness may be dropped, by occasionally having a tentacle wave from the darkness, and allow the dispel magic, light or dispel darkness spells to interfere with this creature's field of darkness ability.

Old-School Monsters: Catoblepas

This Dave Trampier illustration appears in the Advanced Dungeons and Dragons Players Handbook, circa 1978.

It is the Catoblepas, which makes it's first appearance in the 1977 AD&D Monster Manual. The Catoblepas is not an original creation of Gygax and Arneson, as it is referenced by such people as Pliny the Elder and Leonardo da Vinci. Both Pliny and da Vinci report that the Catoblepas is a shaggy beast with a head so heavy that the creature can barely lift it. A good thing too: it's glare turns you to stone, or it's breath poisons you, depending on which ancient or medieval source you believe.

I find this illustration of the Catoblepas notable for a couple of reasons. First, the picture it is illustrated from the viewpoint of the Catoblepas, not the characters who are battling (or fleeing) it. I think you will be hard-pressed to find many modern fantasy rpg illustrations that are framed from this perspective. Most modern fantasy illustrating focuses on the characters, not the monsters they are battling. The alternative perspective employed here diminishes the importance of the party, and puts the Catoblepas in the foreground of the picture frame, elevating it's stature and importance.

The other notable thing about this illustration is the characters look like run-of-the-mill types, not Paladins in gleaming armour, Amazons in scale-mail bikinis, and Wizards bursting with magical energies. No, these are farmers-turned-adventurers, and they are clearly outmatched by the Catoblepas. In modern heroic rpg art, the super-characters would instead be closing in for the kill, not hesitating, fleeing, or screaming non-sensically.

Perhaps i'm simply worshipping at the Altar of Tramp, but to my way of thinking, there is something far more interesting about an illustration where the outcome of a battle is in doubt, where the Mountie doesn't get his man, where the adventurers turn and run away so they can fight another day. Tramp and the other old-school artists got it right, whether it was portraying the adventurers involved in absurd and humorous situations, losing battles, or partaking in mundane adventuring activities.

Old-School Monsters: Catoblepas

This Dave Trampier illustration appears in the Advanced Dungeons and Dragons Players Handbook, circa 1978.

It is the Catoblepas, which makes it's first appearance in the 1977 AD&D Monster Manual. The Catoblepas is not an original creation of Gygax and Arneson, as it is referenced by such people as Pliny the Elder and Leonardo da Vinci. Both Pliny and da Vinci report that the Catoblepas is a shaggy beast with a head so heavy that the creature can barely lift it. A good thing too: it's glare turns you to stone, or it's breath poisons you, depending on which ancient or medieval source you believe.

I find this illustration of the Catoblepas notable for a couple of reasons. First, the picture it is illustrated from the viewpoint of the Catoblepas, not the characters who are battling (or fleeing) it. I think you will be hard-pressed to find many modern fantasy rpg illustrations that are framed from this perspective. Most modern fantasy illustrating focuses on the characters, not the monsters they are battling. The alternative perspective employed here diminishes the importance of the party, and puts the Catoblepas in the foreground of the picture frame, elevating it's stature and importance.

The other notable thing about this illustration is the characters look like run-of-the-mill types, not Paladins in gleaming armour, Amazons in scale-mail bikinis, and Wizards bursting with magical energies. No, these are farmers-turned-adventurers, and they are clearly outmatched by the Catoblepas. In modern heroic rpg art, the super-characters would instead be closing in for the kill, not hesitating, fleeing, or screaming non-sensically.

Perhaps i'm simply worshipping at the Altar of Tramp, but to my way of thinking, there is something far more interesting about an illustration where the outcome of a battle is in doubt, where the Mountie doesn't get his man, where the adventurers turn and run away so they can fight another day. Tramp and the other old-school artists got it right, whether it was portraying the adventurers involved in absurd and humorous situations, losing battles, or partaking in mundane adventuring activities.

Old School Monsters: Giant Slug

"The sucking sound increased to an indescribable slithering, gurgling hiss. Even Conan's iron nerves were shaken by the strain of waiting for the unknown source of the sound to appear.

At last, around the corner poured a huge, slimy leprous gray mass. From its front end rose a pair of hornlike projections, at least ten feet long, with a shorter pair below. The long horns bent this way and that, and Conan saw that they bore eyes on their ends.

Momentarily paralysed with astonishment, Conan stared at the vast mass of rubbery flesh bearing down upon him. The slug emitted a sound like that of a man spitting, but magnified many times over.

Galvanized into action at last, the Cimmerian leaped sideways. As he did so, a jet of liquid flashed through the air, right where he had stood. A tiny droplet struck his shoulder and burned like a coal of fire."

(from "Hall of the Dead", by Howard & deCamp, 1966)

Most of us old grognards understand that original Dungeons & Dragons was designed as a swords and sorcery literature emulator. Modern versions of D&D have lost touch with this fundamental fact, and as Chevski has pointed out, have become self-referential. As I venture into the fantastic fiction referenced in Appendix N of the 1979 AD&D Dungeon Masters Guide, I can't help but grin at passages such as the one above, revealing the roots of so many of the game elements that appear in D&D.

Take the Giant Slug (picture above from Otherworld Miniatures). Like the giant slug in the above Conan tale, the D&D version of the giant slug is gray, with a white underbelly, and spits acid with great accuracy. No one should shy away from using giant slugs in their old school D&D games, knowing that this is a bona fide old school monster.

Old School Monsters: Giant Slug

"The sucking sound increased to an indescribable slithering, gurgling hiss. Even Conan's iron nerves were shaken by the strain of waiting for the unknown source of the sound to appear.

At last, around the corner poured a huge, slimy leprous gray mass. From its front end rose a pair of hornlike projections, at least ten feet long, with a shorter pair below. The long horns bent this way and that, and Conan saw that they bore eyes on their ends.

Momentarily paralysed with astonishment, Conan stared at the vast mass of rubbery flesh bearing down upon him. The slug emitted a sound like that of a man spitting, but magnified many times over.

Galvanized into action at last, the Cimmerian leaped sideways. As he did so, a jet of liquid flashed through the air, right where he had stood. A tiny droplet struck his shoulder and burned like a coal of fire."

(from "Hall of the Dead", by Howard & deCamp, 1966)

Most of us old grognards understand that original Dungeons & Dragons was designed as a swords and sorcery literature emulator. Modern versions of D&D have lost touch with this fundamental fact, and as Chevski has pointed out, have become self-referential. As I venture into the fantastic fiction referenced in Appendix N of the 1979 AD&D Dungeon Masters Guide, I can't help but grin at passages such as the one above, revealing the roots of so many of the game elements that appear in D&D.

Take the Giant Slug (picture above from Otherworld Miniatures). Like the giant slug in the above Conan tale, the D&D version of the giant slug is gray, with a white underbelly, and spits acid with great accuracy. No one should shy away from using giant slugs in their old school D&D games, knowing that this is a bona fide old school monster.

The Original Erol Otus Remorhaz

This Erol Otus Remorhaz illustration appears to be signed in 1976. You can find it, and a reminiscence of the development of the Remorhaz here, at the Lord of the Green Dragons blog. It took a little digging to find this image, as the retrospective was posted WAY BACK on March 4, 2009!

Assuming you have a wealth of time on your hands (and who doesn't), or even if you don't, it is worthwhile reading through some of the back posts at Lord of the Green Dragons.

The Original Erol Otus Remorhaz

This Erol Otus Remorhaz illustration appears to be signed in 1976. You can find it, and a reminiscence of the development of the Remorhaz here, at the Lord of the Green Dragons blog. It took a little digging to find this image, as the retrospective was posted WAY BACK on March 4, 2009!

Assuming you have a wealth of time on your hands (and who doesn't), or even if you don't, it is worthwhile reading through some of the back posts at Lord of the Green Dragons.

Another David Trampier Remorhaz

Trey described the Remorhaz as possessing a fu-manchu mustache. A very apt description of this monster's facial appendages.

This is another David Trampier illustration, based on the original Erol Otus concept. While Otus may have conceived of the original design for the Remorhaz, Trampier has added all sorts of layers of interest. This picture appears in G2, The Glacial Rift of The Frost Giant Jarl, published as an AD&D adventure module in 1978.

Check out the back of the Remorhaz: it almost appears to be suckers or anemones sprouting from it.

A nice additional touch to this illustration that simply screams Trampier: look closely inside the mouth, and you'll see the feet of an adventurer, recently swallowed by the beast.

Another David Trampier Remorhaz

Trey described the Remorhaz as possessing a fu-manchu mustache. A very apt description of this monster's facial appendages.

This is another David Trampier illustration, based on the original Erol Otus concept. While Otus may have conceived of the original design for the Remorhaz, Trampier has added all sorts of layers of interest. This picture appears in G2, The Glacial Rift of The Frost Giant Jarl, published as an AD&D adventure module in 1978.

Check out the back of the Remorhaz: it almost appears to be suckers or anemones sprouting from it.

A nice additional touch to this illustration that simply screams Trampier: look closely inside the mouth, and you'll see the feet of an adventurer, recently swallowed by the beast.

Trampier's Frost Giants

I was surprised to discover two things, as I went hunting for more David Trampier illustrations:

(1) Trampier illustrated the cover of module G2, The Glacial Rift of The Frost Giant Jarl; and

(2) Trampier was not terribly prolific when it came to Dungeons and Dragons module covers.

Trampier did very few module covers: the only one I can recall, other than G2, is T1, The Village of Hommlet.

While Trampier is strongly associated with the AD&D Players Handbook, the Monster Manual, the Dungeon Masters Screen, module T1, The Village of Hommlet and module S1, Tomb of Horrors, Tramp is relegated to back-up and interior artist in many of the other early books and adventures. David Sutherland enjoys more artistic exposure in the AD&D modules, while Erol Otus' art is similarly synonymous with Basic D&D.

I'm saddened by this, since Tramp's style really appeals to me. I wish there was more of his art to appreciate.

There's something special about the cover of module G2. Partly, it's the absolutely non-descript adventurers racing to engage the Frost Giants; this speaks to my image of PCs as average folk, adventuring out of necessity, greed or yearning. And speaking of implied narrative, this is no band of bold and impervious adventurers: we've already got one adventurer down, laying on the ground beside the farthest Frost Giant.

The other thing that I love about this cover is that the Frost Giants appear to be making snowballs: I know it's probably rocks they're preparing to toss, but I laugh that the nearer Frost Giant has a perfectly good sword at his hip. Do the Frost Giants consider mere humans to be pushovers, and are prepared to break into a playful and old-fashioned snowball fight?

Trampier's Frost Giants

I was surprised to discover two things, as I went hunting for more David Trampier illustrations:

(1) Trampier illustrated the cover of module G2, The Glacial Rift of The Frost Giant Jarl; and

(2) Trampier was not terribly prolific when it came to Dungeons and Dragons module covers.

Trampier did very few module covers: the only one I can recall, other than G2, is T1, The Village of Hommlet.

While Trampier is strongly associated with the AD&D Players Handbook, the Monster Manual, the Dungeon Masters Screen, module T1, The Village of Hommlet and module S1, Tomb of Horrors, Tramp is relegated to back-up and interior artist in many of the other early books and adventures. David Sutherland enjoys more artistic exposure in the AD&D modules, while Erol Otus' art is similarly synonymous with Basic D&D.

I'm saddened by this, since Tramp's style really appeals to me. I wish there was more of his art to appreciate.

There's something special about the cover of module G2. Partly, it's the absolutely non-descript adventurers racing to engage the Frost Giants; this speaks to my image of PCs as average folk, adventuring out of necessity, greed or yearning. And speaking of implied narrative, this is no band of bold and impervious adventurers: we've already got one adventurer down, laying on the ground beside the farthest Frost Giant.

The other thing that I love about this cover is that the Frost Giants appear to be making snowballs: I know it's probably rocks they're preparing to toss, but I laugh that the nearer Frost Giant has a perfectly good sword at his hip. Do the Frost Giants consider mere humans to be pushovers, and are prepared to break into a playful and old-fashioned snowball fight?

David Trampier's Remorhaz

Erol Otus was not the only early Dungeons and Dragons illustrator who was capturing the creepy, unworldly feel of the monsters and situations that so many of us consider representative of the old-school D&D game.

David Trampier drew this picture of the Remorhaz. While the Remorhaz never made an appearance in any of the games I refereed, I was a player in a D&D session of Module G2, Glacial Rift of the Frost Giant Jarl. As my son would say ... interesting anecdote: in my younger days, I thought Jarl was the name of the Chief of the Frost Giants, rather than his title. His name was actually Grugnur.

Who knew.

David Trampier's Remorhaz

Erol Otus was not the only early Dungeons and Dragons illustrator who was capturing the creepy, unworldly feel of the monsters and situations that so many of us consider representative of the old-school D&D game.

David Trampier drew this picture of the Remorhaz. While the Remorhaz never made an appearance in any of the games I refereed, I was a player in a D&D session of Module G2, Glacial Rift of the Frost Giant Jarl. As my son would say ... interesting anecdote: in my younger days, I thought Jarl was the name of the Chief of the Frost Giants, rather than his title. His name was actually Grugnur.

Who knew.

Old School Monsters: Manticore

Here is another illustration from the Arduin Grimoire, this one by Bradley W. Schenck, otherwise know as Morno back in the day. This illustration, of the dreaded Manticore surprising an adventuring party in the depths of Skull Tower, appears on the back cover of Welcome To Skull Tower, the second Arduin rulebook. It is one of 14 black & white illustrations that appear in this book. I love the look on the face of the thief, wielding his dagger and a set of keys, as the Manticore leaps over him, knocking down the axe-armed Dwarf.

The 1977 AD&D Monster Manual describes the Manticore as possessing a tail of iron spikes, which are volleyed at its opponents prior to combat. The above, alternate Arduin Manticore, has a scorpion's tail, which I find far more interesting (and deadly). I also prefer this illustration to the one by Sutherland in the Monster Manual: both are black & white, yet the in medi res nature of this combat scene adds far more tension and excitement to the monster illustration.

Which brings me to another thing I love about the old approach to role-playing fantasy art: the use of multiple artists, and art styles, allowed for a heterogeneous depiction of adventurers, scenes, and monsters. That encouraged a flowering of imagination. My scorpion-tailed Manticore was just as permissible as your iron-spike-tailed version.

Old School Monsters: Manticore

Here is another illustration from the Arduin Grimoire, this one by Bradley W. Schenck, otherwise know as Morno back in the day. This illustration, of the dreaded Manticore surprising an adventuring party in the depths of Skull Tower, appears on the back cover of Welcome To Skull Tower, the second Arduin rulebook. It is one of 14 black & white illustrations that appear in this book. I love the look on the face of the thief, wielding his dagger and a set of keys, as the Manticore leaps over him, knocking down the axe-armed Dwarf.

The 1977 AD&D Monster Manual describes the Manticore as possessing a tail of iron spikes, which are volleyed at its opponents prior to combat. The above, alternate Arduin Manticore, has a scorpion's tail, which I find far more interesting (and deadly). I also prefer this illustration to the one by Sutherland in the Monster Manual: both are black & white, yet the in medi res nature of this combat scene adds far more tension and excitement to the monster illustration.

Which brings me to another thing I love about the old approach to role-playing fantasy art: the use of multiple artists, and art styles, allowed for a heterogeneous depiction of adventurers, scenes, and monsters. That encouraged a flowering of imagination. My scorpion-tailed Manticore was just as permissible as your iron-spike-tailed version.