Grue

"It is pitch black. You are likely to be eaten by a grue."

– Zork

Not those Grues... but just in case, you might want to keep the lights on.

Grues are an obscure elemental monster from the Elemental Planes in the Great Wheel multiverse of Dungeons & Dragons. They are divided into four distinct species, as was almost everything in the elemental planes; the chagrin (earth grue), the harginn (fire grue), the ildriss (air grue), and the vardigg (water grue). There's also the oft-forgotten mud grue, which was a late addition to the party.

These little monsters first appeared in the Monster Manual II for Advanced Dungeons & Dragons 1st edition, possibly from Jack Vance's Dying Earth since they really have nothing directly in common with Zork. They were updated to 2nd edition first in the Al-Qadim splatbook "Secrets of the Lamp" and then in the Planescape Monstrous Compendium Appendix. They made two appearances in 3rd edition; Dragon Magazine #285 for 3.0, and "Complete Arcane" for 3.5. The mud grue only ever appeared in Dungeon Magazine; #37 for 2e and #138 for 3e.

Grues are basically malevolent evil elementals, who possess the ability to interfere with magics of their native element - for this reason, elementalists will sometimes summon them as weapons against rivals of their own order.

Grue should not be confused with Elemental Vermin, another form of lesser elemental monster introduced in Al-Qadim.

Chaggrin

Chaggrins are also known as the "Soil Beasts," and look like bipedal, man-like thing made of gross, gooey clay. It's got the face of someone who just crit-failed their saving throw against charisma, and its beady little eyes are like mini spotlights of doom.

These suckers can shape-shift, like they're auditioning for the druid's Got Talent. They can go all Sonic the Hedgehog with a fanged skull head or just hang out as a regular, not-so-cute mold. Yep, they're the multitool of slimy nasties.

When they're not changing faces like a spy on a heist, these Chaggrins are all about tormenting victims. They pull off this wicked move where they morph into the beast form and launch themselves at you, like they're auditioning for "Clay Fighters: The RPG." Their go-to move is to dig those razor-sharp foreclaws into you and hang on like it's a free ride at the carnival. Oh, and did I mention they're basically walking anti-earth magic zones? You got earth spells? Nah, not around these guys!

Sometimes, you'll find these bad boys working as diggers or watchdogs for the dao or crysmals. Most folks think they're too nasty for a regular 9-to-5 (or 24/7) gig, but they're not the quitting type. Chaggrins are all about that mineral buffet – they feast on rich veins like they're at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Family-wise, it's like a reality show gone wrong. They live in these extended families, but it's like a constant sibling rivalry. They steal mates, feud, and just generally make family gatherings a nightmare. If you want to start your own Chaggrin family, you gotta swipe a mate from another group, like some kind of twisted Tinder.

Oh, and those Chaggrin outcasts? Exiled from their messed-up family, they end up serving the evil Underdark dudes like the derro and duergar. They're like the outcasts' outcasts. Some gnomes who bow down to the chaos god Urdlen consider these slimy dudes sacred and treat 'em like royalty. And guess what? They're like the party snacks for some earth elementals – like, the worst fate ever.

In the elemental plane of Earth, Chaggrins are basically like rats in the attic. They're getting kicked out without a second thought, but some telepathic crysmals put 'em on a chill pill and make 'em harmless. Some mages even keep these gooey dudes as spell-busters, like their own little anti-magic arsenal.

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Harginn

Harginns are also known as the "Flame Horrors," and these bad boys are straight outta the Elemental Plane of Fire. They're like the pyromaniac cousin you never invite to family BBQs.

They have a human form with a fiery hairdo hotter than a dragon's temper, and a lower body that's basically billowing flames. They're the kind of shape-shifters who'd totally crush it at a costume party, morphing into regular flames or even going full bronze-skinned human mode. But don't be fooled by their fiery makeovers; these guys are leering evil with a side of cruelty, like they crit-failed their alignment check.

These Flame Horrors are like the Flash of the fire world, zipping around faster than a halfling at an all-you-can-eat buffet. They throw flames like it's a fiery rave party, and they're teleporting all over the place like they're late for the apocalypse. And if you think you're gonna cast fire spells near 'em, think again – these guys got a no-fire-zone within 20 feet of 'em.

They've got this whole guild thing going on, like they're the elemental version of a fantasy corporation. There's a social pecking order where the higher-ups bark orders at the lower ranks, but it's like herding firecats – they don't always listen, and mutinies are their version of office drama. They split into groups based on what they do and whether they're dude or dudette Harginns. Females go all scout, shepherd, gatherer, hunter, and weaver, while the males rock farmer, soldier, cook, scribe, and priest roles. Both genders can join the pariah guild, the ones who deal with all the not-so-fun tasks like burning trash and fetching water.

Most of these fire flamers work for the efreet, like glorified henchmen with a fiery flair. Some do break free from the corporate life and form bands that roam the seas of flame, but they're basically the rebellious teenagers of the elemental plane. They're on bad terms with everything on their plane – even their efreet bosses. Nomads by nature, you'll find 'em everywhere except in the City of Brass.

And let's not forget the pirate side of these fiery devils. Yep, they've got ship-sailing clans, and they're like the Jack Sparrows of the Fire Plane. Females do the fishing, and the dudes are the sailors and marines. These guys are like the badass rebels who stole the efreet's ships and decided to make a living as scalawags and cutthroats. They're a bit like the used-car salesmen of the plane – they capture peeps and sell 'em into slavery in the City of Brass. The efreet tolerate their shenanigans as long as they keep the slave market juicy. But hey, at least they're efficient pirates, taking tribute from some fire folks in exchange for not burning down their house. If you ever need to set sail in the Plane of Fire, stick with the azer's ships – they're like the armored Uber of the seas, paying off the pirates like it's protection money in a fantasy mafia.

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Ildriss

Ildriss are also known as the "Wind Terrors." It's got vaporous tentacles and three gleaming eyes that'll give you the creeps. This bad boy can pull a Houdini and go invisible whenever it pleases, turning into a living whisper of breeze. You'll spot these Wind Terrors rockin' shades of gray, pale yellow, or if you're lucky (or unlucky), a rare white. Their eyes are like little pyramids, and they range from shades like dark orange to scarlet, and even maroon.

Now here's the kicker – if you're planning an air-based spellcasting fiesta, make sure you're 50 feet away from an Ildriss. Yep, that's their anti-party zone, and they're not here to play nice.

These Wind Terrors are the ultimate clique-hoppers. They're like the social butterflies of the elemental plane, making and breaking friendships faster than a rogue disarming traps. Solo vibes are strong on the Material Plane, but they go full party mode on their home turf, the plane of elemental Air. They set up camp in semi-stable tribes, and while they don't backstab each other, they're not exactly the picture of teamwork either. They follow no pecking order – whoever's got the juiciest goals becomes the temporary leader. Talk about the gig economy of elemental beings.

Guess who's their patron? None other than Yan-C-Bin, the Elemental Prince of Evil Air. Yeah, they're like his little spies and servants, so they've got a devious resume to flaunt.

In their world, they're like the outcasts crashing an air creature party – think parasites at a picnic. They're all about using others to further their own goals, and if they're in the mood for some action, they'll spy on their targets for days, just waiting for the perfect moment to pounce like a spellcaster with a new spell slot.

When it comes to munchies, Ildriss have a diet that includes clouds, cold breezes, high-flying birds, and small elemental air creatures. Basically, they're having a buffet up there. And let's talk about love – they only commit to territories during mating season, which is like their "let's get wild" phase. They're more unpredictable than a wild magic surge, so steer clear when they're in the mood for love.

Now, for the real plot twist – there are whispers about "good" Ildriss, the so-called "fog Ildriss." These rebels ditched Yan-C-Bin's fan club and are all about purity vibes. They're like the cool kids who only hang with the morally righteous crowd, and in other respects, they're your regular Ildriss – gleaming eyes and all.

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Varrdig

The varrdig, or Fluid Brute, is the fucking worst. The game already had the Water Weird, supposedly Chaotic Evil itself; but noooo, that wasn't enough. Much as some would like to blame Rose Estes for nerfing the Weird, she was writing June 1982, too late to affect whoever-it-was who came up with this Grue.

Picture a squishy, slimy, greenish blob that's got tiny clawed legs fringing its lower body, and hey, it's got a bunch of pipes sticking out like it's throwing a weird, aquatic party. These tubes can spew water like it's nobody's business, propelling this ooze-ball in its watery element or even doubling as some nasty water-based attacks. Don't mess with the Varrdig, folks – it's got a plan for your nostrils.

Oh, and did I mention they can shape-shift? Yeah, these sneaky little critters can disguise themselves as water, but the greenish tinge kinda gives them away. It's like trying to hide a lime in a bowl of lemons – nice try, buddy.

These jellies can team up like an elemental boy band and become a three-lobed entity that looks like a snowman. All it takes is a cool 1-3 rounds of prep, and then bam, they're like a horrifying trio fusion that's ready to wreck your day. In this form, they're like a tank on steroids – think upgraded defenses, boosted morale, and extra bludgeoning power. And rumor has it, the middle body part houses their sensory organs, 'cause, you know, sticking pipes in people's noses requires some level of coordination.

Now, if you're planning on being the spellcasting star of the show with some water-based spells, think again. The Varrdig's got a no-spell zone extending 30 feet, so leave your aquatic magic at the door.

These squishy fiends usually roll in a gang of three, all the better to pull off their fusion dance when things hit the fan. Are these three-lobed terrors the only ones who can get their fusion on, or can any Varrdig join the party? No one's quite sure, but it seems like these slimeballs might be mixing holy ceremonies with their defense strategy. When it's not triad fusion time, Varrdigs stake out territories that they defend with a vengeance. They're like territorial squatters, and they wipe out their hunting grounds faster than a bard charms a crowd.

When it comes to meals, Varrdigs are like the cleanup crew, scavenging whatever's left and occasionally putting down the weak, sick, or elderly. They're like the cosmic janitors of the elemental plane.

Now, remember, if you ever cross paths with a Varrdig, don't expect them to join your D&D campaign – they're not here to make friends. They're at odds with the marid, but they're all buddy-buddy with other water elementals, and creatures like the ixitxachitl and the sahuagin.

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Mud Grue

When they first appeared in Dungeon #37's adventure "The Mud Sorcerer's Tomb", mud grues were only mentioned in passing; any earth or water-based spell had a 50% chance of summoning a mud grue, which would attempt to kill the mage whose spell had brought them forth. They were described as resembling a mud-caked, diminutive humanoid crocodile, being immune to earth & water-based spells, and having an enchanted bite attack that could inflict drowning on a victim if the grue rolled a natural 20 and the victim then failed a save vs. petrification.

Perhaps fittingly, the adventure they appeared in for Dungeon #138 was a 3e update of that very same adventure. This version still looked like a mud-caked humanoid crocodile, but had lost its drowning bite ability; instead, it could now disrupt earth & water spells within 40 feet and could spit nauseating, potentially blinding mud at a single target once every 1d4 rounds. Also, it could be summoned by spells with the Earth, Water, Acid or Cold descriptors.

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