Ducks!

Sometime in the late fall or early winter of 1976, my 10-year-old self was sifting through the magazine shelves of Open Pantry, the convenience store at the top of my street. The cover below caught my attention. This was no Disney duck, though the resemblance was strong; this was a duck living in a world of superheroes. I was hooked.

Art: Frank Brunner, pencils; Steve Leiahola, inks; Marie Severin, color

Howard the Duck was a comic unlike any I'd ever read before. There was an atmosphere of dark lunacy running as an undercurrent, though I would never have been able to articulate it like that back then. There was just something off about it, a weirdness that set it apart from both the superhero comics I usually saw from Marvel and DC, and worlds away from the more stylized and silly Disney fare. Howard was, as the cover says, "trapped in a world he never made." Grumbling and caustic, yet possessing an inherent goodness about him, Howard tried to find his place in a world of insane "hairless apes." His sanity slowly crumbled as each issue appeared; it was bad enough to find himself in such a skewed version of the world he'd come from, but this was a world in which costumed beings did their level best to bring him low. Yet Howard persevered. Each opponent and obstacle he surmounted seemed to bring him at least a small sense of control over his own fate - though he never quite managed to get his equilibrium.

When I finally became a D&D player, Howard had made an indelible impression on me. As the years went by, the idea of adventuring ducks became even more intriguing to me. It was with more than a bit of surprise that I discovered the RuneQuest, via its iconic setting, Glorantha, offered ducks as a sapient player character race. It seemed natural to me, though, due to Howard's early adventures hopping across the planes, fighting vampires and giant frogs, taking on the mantle of the Sorcerer Supreme for a while, and, in the first issue of his eponymous comic, being thrust into a rather Conan-esque/Heavy Metal-ish swords and sorcery adventure.

From Howard the Duck #1; Frank Brunner, pencils and color; Steve Leiahola, inks; written by Steve Gerber

I often see the idea of ducks in RPGs as player characters, or as just intelligent creatures with their own society, dismissed with derision, scoffed at as being too silly. On one hand, I understand what is meant, but on the other is the fact that fantasy RPGs like D&D are filled will silliness. Goblins, centaurs, lizard men, dragons, and even D&D-invented critters like the beholder seem no less silly or oddball when you really look at them. I'm sure Disney has a lot to do with this. Donald, Daisy, Huey, Dewy, Louie, and Uncle Scrooge have left an indelible mark on the concept of intelligent ducks. But the comics of Donald and Uncle Scrooge are filled with adventure, ranging across the world, as colorful as any pulp character like Tarzan, or more recent pastiches of the pulps, like Indiana Jones. So the precedent is there, in spades.

All of that was meant as introduction for my own take on ducks as a player character race in D&D, specifically 5th edition. So here goes:


DUCKS!

I’m hearkening back to the days of yore when something like a duck could make it into a campaign world as a viable choice for a PC.

The sapient race of ducks is descended from ducks awakened by the legendary adventuring swamp druid, Dahnold the Everstrange. Dahnold loved the wetlands he protected, but knew that he needed companions who could also defend them in his absence. He awakened the intelligence of numerous pairs of ducks of varying species, transmuting their wings into human-like arms and hands - they lost the ability to fly, but gained the ability to manipulate the world around them. Hoping to ensure that they would breed true and produce a whole race of intelligent avians, Dahnold spent much of his adventuring career questing for Daphee’s Bill, an artifact from beyond this dimension. His success in locating this item is commemorated by the Ducks themselves, in a weeklong festival they call “Duck Season.” Unfortunately, early on this festival conflicted with the more locally common “Time of the Lepus;” oddly, this mix-up has caused a neverending cycle of tension and strife between the Ducks and just about everyone else.

Ducks, in general, are irascible and hot-tempered. Although small in stature, they are often spoiling for a fight and unwilling to back down when threatened. They can be charming and lovable, but can also quickly become annoying with their often mercurial moods. Ducks generally keep to their marshes, content to occasionally foray forth to the lands of Men for wealth and adventure.

Duck Traits

Ability Score Increase. Their small size, hollow bones, and avian origin have resulted in ducks being surprisingly nimble, and gain +2 to their Dexterity score. They are also tough, and gain a +1 to Constitution.

Age. Sapient ducks mature and age like humans.

Alignment. Sapient ducks are as varied in their approach to life as humans. Although this means they can be of any alignment, they do show a tendency towards leading orderly, peaceful lives, though with a good deal of personal freedom; thus, neutral good is a common alignment for ducks.

Size. Sapient ducks average just over 2 1/2 feet tall and weigh around 30 pounds. They are Small for game purposes.

Speed. Ducks have a base walking speed of 25 feet.

Lucky. Like halflings, ducks are unusually lucky. When they roll a 1 on a d20 for an attack roll, ability check, or saving throw, they may reroll the die, but must take the new roll.

Brave. Also like halflings, ducks have advantage on saving throws against being frightened.

Strong-minded. Ducks are obstinate and quick to argue, with a strong sense of being right in most circumstances; this results in them also having advantage on saving throws against enchantments.

Natural swimmers. Ducks have a Swim speed of 30, and have advantage on Strength (Athletics) checks for swimming.

Languages. Ducks speak, read, and write Common.

Hobgoblins and the Book of Clear Fighting

Way back in the 1st edition AD&D era, the Monster Manual was filled with bizarre critters that fired the imagination. Among the most fascinating to me were the hobgoblins. Tougher than orcs, prone to wearing samurai-like armor, and with an implied organization greater than that of their fellow goblin-types, hobgoblins always struck me as having among the most potential as fantasy-world-threatening foes.

Hobgoblins on the move, from the 1st edition Monster Manual, with art by iconic D&D artist, the late David C. Sutherland III

With each successive edition of D&D, it became clearer that I wasn't the only one with this concept of the strong, organized hobgoblins floating around in my head. 5th edition D&D continues that "civilizing" of the hobgoblins.

The "modern" hobgoblin, from the 5th edition D&D Monster Manual.

Over the years, I worked out an idea of what hobgoblins were like in my campaign worlds. I figured I'd dust off those notes and toss 'em here on the blog.

Hobgoblins of Callexerna

Cool. Efficient. Professional. Three words that epitomize the hobgoblins.

Hatred against them is born of fear fostered by their discipline.

When hobgoblins are on the move, they are not a mob, they are not a tribe - they are an army. They have a rigid chain of command, they take orders readily, and they are not subject to the kind of infighting that tears apart most goblinoid armies before they can really do damage.

Even the doughtiest dwarf grinds his teeth and grips his axe more tightly at the news the hobgoblins are on the move.

Hobgoblins have structure, they have discipline, they have strength; what they don't have is mercy. They put town populations to the sword in order to make sure no uprisings occur. Perhaps most unnerving of all is that they do not revel in the slaughter, not letting it go to their heads and distracting them into making a mistake. No, the hobgoblins destroy simply and efficiently, like everything else they do. They cannot be bribed, they cannot be begged, they cannot be intimidated. They only care about what will benefit the hobgoblin nation - everything else is simply irrelevant, at worst an impediment to be destroyed.

Hobgoblins are trained to act as a team, drilled to regard their shields as protecting their shield brother, not themselves. Hobgoblins get to learn from their experiences, unlike most goblinoids, because their discipline and loyalty to each other ensures the survival of even grievously wounded soldiers. Hobgoblin armies have a proportionately high number of experienced soldiers because of this.

Hobgoblins are cooperative amongst themselves. They are organized into clearly defined units. The rivalries that exist between units are fierce but disciplined, serving to keep the hobgoblin nation in fighting form, but rarely devolve into actual bloodshed.

Hobgoblins are prized as mercenary units due to their prowess, reliability, and willingness to follow the orders of their employers. Once they have undertaken a contract, they will not break it. Should an employer betray one hobgoblin mercenary unit, they will have effectively betrayed them all, in hobgoblin eyes. From that point on, the betrayer is the focus of the wrath of all hobgoblins.

Hobgoblins find other goblinoids distastefully barbaric and unprincipled. Goblins try to emulate the structure and discipline of the hobgoblins, but are generally unsuccessful at this. In fact, goblin tribes seem to be almost a parody of hobgoblin organization and discipline – hobgoblin equipment shines and functions; goblin equipment is rusted and, more often than not, almost non-functional. The ubiquitous and more numerous orcs have clashed often with hobgoblins, though the discipline of hobgoblins has meant that even greatly outnumbered forces easily shrug off orc attacks. Hobgoblins will serve as mercenaries for an employer who also hires orcs, but will never be subordinate to orcs under any circumstances.

Although hobgoblins have no compunction against killing, they do have an unnerving calm about them.  When they are not drilling, they meditate. This meditation helps them achieve what they call “The Warrior’s Calm,” a state of mind that keeps them collected and focused on the battlefield. This strange, alien calm that they project can strike fear into even the stoutest warrior. 

Hobgoblins have a surprisingly rich tradition of literature. With books written by hobgoblins ranging from poetry to history to engineering, they are far and away the most literate of the goblinoids. They also freely read and learn from the literature of humans, elves, dwarves, and any other intelligent species that has a literary form. Hobgoblin literature is crude, dark, and violent in comparison to the literature of humans or elves, but its variety is unsettling to those who tend to view the goblinoids as without interest in intellectual pursuits.

No self-respecting hobgoblin warrior on the march is without his copy of The Book of Clear Fighting, a collection of ancient treatises on hobgoblin tactics and strategy. It is not unusual to see hobgoblins sitting silently, reading or meditating, immediately before and after a battle. The Book of Clear Fighting is much like a combination of The Art of War, von Clausewitz's On War, an infantry tactics manual, and, oddly enough, a smattering of folktales, parables, and, most strangely, jokes.

The hobgoblins acknowledge, but do not worship Maglubiyet. They do not believe the patron deity of goblinoids to be a true god. Instead, they see Maglubiyet and other “gods” as merely beings of great personal power with no regard for those weaker than themselves.

The hobgoblins do have a belief system concerning a higher power. This belief system revolves around the concept of an empty, uncaring universe in which the individual imbues meaning into existence. In the case of the hobgoblins, they find meaning in strengthening their nation's position in the world. 

Hobgoblins have few heroes, per se, but there are figures from their history whom they venerate. Chief among these is Erez-Kazg, the legendary Hobgoblin King, the Three-Fingered Lord, King of Evil’s Nest – First made a name for himself during the Great Revolt which thrust back the borders of the Kingdom of Peace and the Centaur Empire from the Southern Polar Sea to their present borders. Shrewd, cunning, and evil to the core, he and his huge companion, the sabretooth cat Kurguz, hacked their way to the throne of Callexerna, deposing the human warlords. Erez-Kazg brought discipline to the hobgoblins, and that has made them some of the most dangerous foes the forces of good have faced.