Meat with the durability of a mountain just seems more impossible than a mountain with the mobility of meat to me.

Now that I think about it, I'm being pretty arbitrary here. Maybe it's just because I know more about the things stopping bodies from getting that big than about the things stopping rocks from like that.

If it seems the other way around to you, fair enough!
A creature with lava for blood is going to struggle to keep said blood molten in Earth-like temperatures unless it has unlimited energy to constantly lose to the environment. We'd also be talking about a silicon based lifeform which is believed to have its own set of complications, it's widely believed that they wouldn't like Oxygen.
 
I think one of the key issues is that giant enemy fights need good rules for:
1. terrain. They've got to be able to represent traversing terrain as something interesting, so that climbing the big enemies is engaging rather than something you automatically do at X feet/round;
2. telegraphing/counterplay. Some kind of core mechanics whereby the big enemy is catastrophically powerful but in a predictable way, where they get to dictate the tempo (at least initially) and you need to figure out how to take advantage of their openings;
3. depth of interaction (somewhat overlaps with #2). There's got to be some mechanical hook beyond dealing damage to the target, especially on the PC's side—ways to hide from the enemy, damage sensitive parts to cripple the enemy in meaningful ways, find your way to the small of their back where they have a hard time hitting you, etc; and
4. interactions between the giant monsters and the larger environment (somewhat overlaps with #1). PCs should be able to play the larger terrain, luring giant foes into traps, forcing flying enemies to ground, etc. Giant monsters shouldn't be isolated puzzle boxes, they should be a part of a larger set piece where you finally have a plausible reason to pull out siege equipment and such.

Exalted also needs

5. Interactions between giant monsters. Kaiju fight mechanics are a must.
I got like 2 out of 5 attempted giant enemy fights as successful(as defined by the players having fun with it, and it not being some grossly inflated meatwall) in RPGs in general...and that giant enemy which worked was written and designed as a mini-dungeon instead of any kind of creature. Just treat the vital organs as load bearing bosses.

The straight creature versions were much easier to write, but without fail, flopped hard except at very low power levels.
 
I got like 2 out of 5 attempted giant enemy fights as successful(as defined by the players having fun with it, and it not being some grossly inflated meatwall) in RPGs in general...and that giant enemy which worked was written and designed as a mini-dungeon instead of any kind of creature. Just treat the vital organs as load bearing bosses.

The straight creature versions were much easier to write, but without fail, flopped hard except at very low power levels.
Yeah, it's probably better to look at giant "enemies" as puzzles, if not out-right mini-dungeons like you said, rather than creatures.
 
For @ManusDomini and @TenfoldShields:

Twice-Encrypted
Dead by Violence

Sometimes the brave encrypted ones of Lookshy – so heroic in the way they terrorise unarmed and malnourished helots – are treacherously brought down. The affront to the natural order rankles their souls so they cannot rest easy, and they forget their names in the shame of their deaths. All that is left to them is endless, bottomless hate for the helotry who managed to be stronger than them. Many of them prove to be talented at reanimating their own corpse or as body snatchers, and most love the flesh and physicality. Their afterlives are visceral, bloody things; an endless hunt.

The Twice-Encrypted are a rare breed of ghost, defined mostly by their compulsion to inflict suffering on the Lookshyian helotry. The fear of those miserable men and women nourishes these deeply malevolent ghosts, leading them to build their own legend. Some even achieve the rank of Greater Dead; just another Lookshyian building themselves up on a mound of helot corpses.

The Unstoppable
Ancestor of the Helotry

He doesn't slow down. He never ceases to chase them. He might not run, but somehow he's faster than he could possibly be when no one is looking at him. He's got his spear and his belt knife and he's got his bare hands, those bloodied rending things. Cut him apart and he comes back. Push him into a river and he comes back. Drop a mountain on him and he comes back.

The Unstoppable is ancient. He's haunted the helotry for hundreds of years. No one knows what killed him now, apart from him. He remembers. It's all he remembers of life. That feeling of hands around his throat, pulling at his limbs; twenty desperate women and children dismembering a trained soldier. He hates them. He's going to kill them. Only… he didn't see them. Didn't see their faces.

So he's going to kill every last helot. One at a time.

The Night Terror
Lesser Dead

A cunning helot might hide their cunning, and dream secret dreams of rebellion. He wears a placid face during in the day, while stockpiling food, water, a knife. Then he finds his night hours haunted by terrifying dreams. She is there. She chases him, in her robe the colour of dried blood, wearing a mask of bone dust and marrow. She chases him through his dreams until he has no more strength to fight back. She cuts him time and time again; beats him; takes a finger or an eye as a trophy. In the morning they find his mutilated corpse.

They killed her with cunning. They dug a pit and lined it with spikes and covered it with thick branches and had one of them run away. Of course the encrypted ones gave chase – and while a starving man could run across thick branches, a horse and its rider went straight through. These cunning slaves filled in the pit, so no one would ever find her. But she found them. And now the helotry whispers and prays to escape the dream-that-kills. She grows fat on their fear, and eats the souls of the clever helots. Soon she'll be among the Greater Dead.
 
Twice-Encrypted
Dead by Violence

what an unfortunate name that might never lead to misunderstandings :V

A special force known as the Encrypted Ones wage a yearly ritual shadow war on the helotry, infiltrating their ranks, poisoning food and killing key figures to destroy all pretensions of hope. It is common for officers and leaders of Lookshy to have served with the Encrypted Ones as part of their military service. But the Encrypted Ones are not immune, and use conscripted helots themselves to report and spread rumours; several of which have recently formed into a conspiracy aiming to once and for all blind the eyes of Lookshy. Already, talk has begun of the secretive Twice Encrypted.
 
Alternatively, it would inhale oxygen and exhale SiO2, aka sand.
Most rocks have a lower m.p. than SiO2. So do a large number of metals, including iron, nickel, cobalt, and titanium. A metabolism that emits silica where organic life emits CO2 does not exactly scale up gracefully :)
 

Yo :D

I feel kinda bad because I don't have a lot to add but I do always love your take on ghosts, and basically just "somewhere out there among all these military-planned farming combines and mining outposts there are the ghosts of secret police death squads still wearing their slow-rotting bodies and ERE Michael Jason Meyers Vorhees and Lady Kreuger" is great. Men who were already monsters before they died, kinda stalking among the millions strong population, sorta like parasites that have just gone untreated and by the time anyone other than their victims notices or cares it'll be too late.

It's super evocative and I like 'em a lot.
 
Yo :D

I feel kinda bad because I don't have a lot to add but I do always love your take on ghosts, and basically just "somewhere out there among all these military-planned farming combines and mining outposts there are the ghosts of secret police death squads still wearing their slow-rotting bodies and ERE Michael Jason Meyers Vorhees and Lady Kreuger" is great. Men who were already monsters before they died, kinda stalking among the millions strong population, sorta like parasites that have just gone untreated and by the time anyone other than their victims notices or cares it'll be too late.

It's super evocative and I like 'em a lot.

The idea is that those two are "evolved" forms of the basic slasher ghost - building up their own styles, their own signature "legend" - getting fat on the fear of the helots and on their souls. And yeah, there's playing with the whole basic morality tale nature of the slasher movie, in a society where the morals are amoral.
 
A long time ago I posted a small earth elemental in this thread. I had ideas for others, and wrote part of a similarly small wind elemental. I've finally decided to finish and post it. Maybe I'll write up the others at some point.

Windserpents

Spawned by wind
Air vermin

The wind rustles through the blooming cherry trees, carrying away a flurry of white and pink. In the pale tide, smaller streams appear, making up the whole. They twist and spin in thin curls. These are windserpents or windlashes, weak spirits of Air, known wherever there is wind to birth them.

Windlashes are some of the most common elementals known in Creation. They are the components of every gust of wind, their ephemeral bodies breaking with the merest resistance. They are almost invisible. Only rarely does one see the faint silvery outline of one shimmering in daylight and then only for a brief moment. A curl, a loop, a handful of flowing matter. Whether fine sand, mist, ash, flower petals, or morbidly, blood spray, they are usually only noticed by what they carry.

As an ubiquitous part of Creation, windserpents are the subject of many stories and superstitions. So unremarkable are they, that in many parts of Creation, there exists an unwritten rule in poetry that only the laziest poet would ever mention them.
Most common is the belief that their temperament is determined by what they hold. When loaded with petals, they are playful and kind, like Spring itself. Loaded with ash they are dour and spiteful. And beware the crimson breed born of a bloody battlefield; violence fills them and they seek to spread their pain with snapping teeth.
Windserpents are mindless, and when they find themselves caught in a corner, they will bite their own tails and spin up a small whirling gale. On the coast of the North-West, it is well-known that all storms are ultimately born of such unfortunate serpents. Great care is taken to never build any structure that would unleash calamity on others. So no building is considered complete before a shaman drives a flurry of captured windlashes freely around and through it. Swears abound referencing 'careless Southerners' that send hurricanes crashing in on innocent fishers.

Like many spirits as weak as them, windserpents usually only exist for a very short time before melting back into Creation. Strangely, when caught naturally in a corner or on purpose by a shaman, they can persist for much longer.
When stored, windserpents are most often kept in seashells, where they can be contained for months if necessary, lost in the howling folds of the shell.
 
Yeah, it's probably better to look at giant "enemies" as puzzles, if not out-right mini-dungeons like you said, rather than creatures.
Combat in general should be puzzles! Or at least puzzle-adjacent.

Combat is more interesting if the PCs need to learn and change up their strategies. There doesn't need to be some obvious "correct" strategy, but there should be interesting mechanical weaknesses and strengths that PCs need to figure out and work around.

Giant enemies can be even moreso, but the core principal should definitely apply: a TTRPG as game (versus world-simulator) should actually be fun and interesting to play, which involves meaningful decisions rather than just using the same tactics over and over again.
 
Oh thing a lot of TTRPGs need to deal with is time.

Ever since D&D, combat between incarnate gods and eldritch abominations (or heroic country bumpkins and half-starved goblins) is still over in 30 seconds
 
Oh thing a lot of TTRPGs need to deal with is time.

Ever since D&D, combat between incarnate gods and eldritch abominations (or heroic country bumpkins and half-starved goblins) is still over in 30 seconds
A lot of more modern games tend to abstract units of time somewhat—a round makes more sense as "enough time for a single exchange" rather than six seconds, for example, and therefore can be extended from seconds or minutes as the narrative requires. I do think that the "every action occurs in units of X time" is symptom of a kind of game design that can be problematic more generally, but it's pretty innocuous on its own.

D&D doesn't become more or less interesting to play if a combat takes thirty seconds or thirty minutes. It becomes more or less interesting if that time means something—if monsters wander into the encounter because of how long it's taken, or open wounds more meaningfully start slowing you down. Most of these exist already in one way or another, and are more based in good GMing and encounter design than in specific timings.
 
Combat in general should be puzzles! Or at least puzzle-adjacent.

Combat is more interesting if the PCs need to learn and change up their strategies. There doesn't need to be some obvious "correct" strategy, but there should be interesting mechanical weaknesses and strengths that PCs need to figure out and work around.

Giant enemies can be even moreso, but the core principal should definitely apply: a TTRPG as game (versus world-simulator) should actually be fun and interesting to play, which involves meaningful decisions rather than just using the same tactics over and over again.
Main issue with that, speaking as a foreverGM, is that it just takes so damned much work to build one, and non-gaming obligations can really torpedo it
 
Main issue with that, speaking as a foreverGM, is that it just takes so damned much work to build one, and non-gaming obligations can really torpedo it
It's a system thing! To toot my own horn, Horizon Break (the game I'm making) does a really good job of letting GMs create interesting combat gimmicks that PCs need to work around, especially for large enemies. The key is baking meaningful choice into the engine, so that there are more mechanical hooks that every PC can access for monster gimmicks.
 
I haven't played with Mahicara, but I think it ought to be a fairly interesting fight scene. It's got some interesting stuff going on; it's not just a bag of health levels.
 
Most rocks have a lower m.p. than SiO2. So do a large number of metals, including iron, nickel, cobalt, and titanium. A metabolism that emits silica where organic life emits CO2 does not exactly scale up gracefully :)
As I understand, really higher pressures would be more forgiving to silicon based life but that's still not conducitve to rock monsters as antagonists.

I haven't played with Mahicara, but I think it ought to be a fairly interesting fight scene. It's got some interesting stuff going on; it's not just a bag of health levels.
Yes, it's got some very powerful charms but they're contingent on it having more than 1 initiative which it shouldn't have if everyone in the group is pulling their weight.
 
It's a system thing! To toot my own horn, Horizon Break (the game I'm making) does a really good job of letting GMs create interesting combat gimmicks that PCs need to work around, especially for large enemies. The key is baking meaningful choice into the engine, so that there are more mechanical hooks that every PC can access for monster gimmicks.
Oh god, you're making it even worse...
 
Or am I making it better?

But more seriously I'm going to be doing a big rework of a bunch of systems in Horizon Break and will be looking for third party playtesters, so if you are curious we should talk.
As in, the problem is with it being time consuming to build an environment which is interesting to engage in by players without becoming a One True Solution trap.

This becomes massively more difficult if players and environment pieces explicitly have access to each other's rules(this btw, is why D&D had the drow weapons become junk in sunlight, otherwise the PCs will loot all of them and become super powerful, and why the druid is OP).
The key to effective large monster design isn't in the mechanical hook, which is a guessing game of GM and Player sync, made worse if you have hard-of-comprehension players playing at the end of a long day(or in one case, high as a kite).

What would help(instead of add more work which 90% of the time is never used by the end of the encounter) is a quick way to generate interactive details. You need something like 3-4 standout features which the players might choose to engage in, to in turn produce leveragable actions. This applies for dungeons, chase scenes and even social scenes, people tend to do better if in an action-reaction cycle rather than pure creativity, much as the latter is more novel, it takes more ongoing work and can be chancy outside of dedicated creative groups.

Whats needed then is:
-Interactive scenery generator. This is usually stunt fodder, which yes, in theory your player would stunt into existence, but in practice happens a lot less. Throwaway details, like rusting railings, humming power conduits, people carrying glass panes, trapdoors, or Glowy Crystal Thing. That and as GM you somewhat need to control the urge, so pre-generated randoms tend to work better than conveniently spawning exactly what is needed. Sure, you could probably invent this any one scene, but without assistance you're probably going to wind up recycling them repeatedly.

-Gauging potency and providing complications which engage players at a level of useful risk. What makes sense for this scene, what hazards are they just going to ignore? Theres a lot of tendency when rushed to just eyeball and scale it to player competencies, but players do tend to call bullshit after the 3rd backwater sorceror has a vat of Difficulty 5 acid in their lab, OR they can get bored as the lightning barrier, poison gas, horrific visages, etc, run up against their superhuman Integrity/Resistance and does nothing much.
 
Rose-Lipped Seduction Style opens a whole new tier of boyfriend for my Zenith, I just need a Circle that will support their friend's decision in marrying Cthulhu and Moon Presence.

 
As in, the problem is with it being time consuming to build an environment which is interesting to engage in by players without becoming a One True Solution trap.

This becomes massively more difficult if players and environment pieces explicitly have access to each other's rules(this btw, is why D&D had the drow weapons become junk in sunlight, otherwise the PCs will loot all of them and become super powerful, and why the druid is OP).
The key to effective large monster design isn't in the mechanical hook, which is a guessing game of GM and Player sync, made worse if you have hard-of-comprehension players playing at the end of a long day(or in one case, high as a kite).

What would help(instead of add more work which 90% of the time is never used by the end of the encounter) is a quick way to generate interactive details. You need something like 3-4 standout features which the players might choose to engage in, to in turn produce leveragable actions. This applies for dungeons, chase scenes and even social scenes, people tend to do better if in an action-reaction cycle rather than pure creativity, much as the latter is more novel, it takes more ongoing work and can be chancy outside of dedicated creative groups.

Whats needed then is:
-Interactive scenery generator. This is usually stunt fodder, which yes, in theory your player would stunt into existence, but in practice happens a lot less. Throwaway details, like rusting railings, humming power conduits, people carrying glass panes, trapdoors, or Glowy Crystal Thing. That and as GM you somewhat need to control the urge, so pre-generated randoms tend to work better than conveniently spawning exactly what is needed. Sure, you could probably invent this any one scene, but without assistance you're probably going to wind up recycling them repeatedly.

-Gauging potency and providing complications which engage players at a level of useful risk. What makes sense for this scene, what hazards are they just going to ignore? Theres a lot of tendency when rushed to just eyeball and scale it to player competencies, but players do tend to call bullshit after the 3rd backwater sorceror has a vat of Difficulty 5 acid in their lab, OR they can get bored as the lightning barrier, poison gas, horrific visages, etc, run up against their superhuman Integrity/Resistance and does nothing much.
I think my system does something similar to what you're describing, although coming at it from a different perspective. Engagement with terrain is a core mechanic, so there are a bunch of rules for representing interesting things in the environment, from railings to power counduits to people carrying glass panes to trapdoors, etc. Some are represented by pretty generic, abstracted mechanical ideas, others have very specific mechanical hooks (like having a magnetized floor). There's no "roll on this table to generate interesting environmental details" table (although I might add one when I create the GM's section eventually, as I'm going to have a lot of similar kinds of guidance), but there is a list of a lot of stuff that you can look through and get inspired.

Since this subsystem is one of the ones getting heavily changed soon, I'll explain the high level pitch for the new version (the core engine works on a dice management system whereby spending dice to roll well in one action means having less dice to do on other stuff, so that even minor hazards can still be annoying because they take effort away from other things):

Combat/social encounters/stuff that happens in a given space takes place on a series of connected Zones. Characters are placed and can move between Zones—their location within a given Zone is abstracted unless they're specifically doing something in one area within it. Zones can have two kinds of Traits—continuous and activated (names might also be changed).

Continuous Traits do something automatically to everyone in the Zone, representing some property found in the entire area. If that something is bad, characters will generally need to roll over some listed Difficulty to avoid the bad thing.

Activated Traits only do something if a Character "activates" them, but this can be slightly misleading. A lava pool in the middle of a Zone, for example, is an Activated Trait. Activating it represents trying to throw someone in, and is done via an opposed move action, with a Difficulty rating substracted from the guy who's attempting to do it's roll. Succeed and the guy falls into lava and probably dies.

Characters can also generate new Activated Traits in a given Zone via perception actions—so a character can look at your evil villain lair, say "I want there to be a lava pit", roll well, and then generate it into the environment. The same is true for stuff like weapons lying around, explosive barrels in the enemy camp, obstacles up ahead that the other car will need to dodge, etc.

The end result, at least from early playtests, is that PCs have been engaging really heavily with the environment, to the extent that "guy who knows things and is vigilant but doesn't fight much" has been a viable engaging archetype in a combat game. It's definitely easier for me to GM than it might be for someone else, but I think that having enough prebuilt content will allow other people to pretty easily go in and make it work.
 
Feel like homebrewing again. Bit odd, since I haven't played in quite a while, but whatever. Here I'm gonna try and address one of the most egregious omissions in the Ex3 rules: the Wyld.

Solars have magic for resisting the Wyld and for shaping it, which you'd think would imply the existence of rules for what the Wyld does and is. But you'd be wrong.

So here's my take. Written in one sitting, so I can't promise quality. Feedback would be greatly appreciated.

Might write up some examples, if people are having trouble following. I'm not confident that what I've written is easy to understand, or even particularly coherent, so don't hesitate to ask me what the hell I'm going on about.

If you spend time in the Wyld, you are at risk of being physically and mentally transformed. Exactly how serious that risk is depends on which part of the Wyld you're in.

Each Wyld area has its own Mutation Schedule. A Mutation schedule dictates how often an being within it must roll (Stamina + Integrity) to avoid mutation, how difficult the roll will be, and roughly what will happen if they fail. Moreover, it lists any practices that can protect those within it from mutation. A Mutation Schedule is generally multi-stage, with the danger presented by the area changing as you grow more mutated. As a general rule, the more an area has changed you already, the slower it will be to change you further.

The Bordermarches generally resemble Creation quite closely. In fact, in many cases it's not clear whether an area should be considered a Bordermarch at all. The main thing distinguishing a Bordermarch from an ordinary part of Creation's edge is that a Bordermarch can, eventually, mutate you. It generally takes months or years, and can even long-term inhabitants have little to fear as long as they take ritual precautions, carry iron, and get their food and water from Creation proper.

Obviously, Wyld mutants and strange phenomena are somewhat more common in Bordermarches than in Creation proper.

The Middlemarches are what people generally have in mind when they think about the Wyld. Wyld mutants and strange phenomena are ubiquitous within them; while a forest of argumentative knives or a hole in the ground that leads to another place hundreds of miles away would be very unusual in the Bordermarches, such things are commonplace in the Middlemarches.

Mere hours or days in the Middlemarches carry with them a serious risk of mutation, and there's no sure way to protect yourself without Charms or other significant magic.

Each Middlemarch has a list of Permissions, which dictate the ways in which Raksha may change the area without the use of any specific magic. In one Middlemarch the inhabitants might only be semi-real, with their behaviour free to be dictated by the Princes of Chaos, while another might have controllable weather.

The Deep Wyld appears similar to the Middlemarches at first glance. But it differs in three key ways.

First, it mutates people much faster. The Deep Wyld warps people within minutes or seconds, and for one of the Creation-born to stay there long-term is only possible through the use of protective magic.

Second, its geography only obeys the laws of geometry on a small scale. The Deep Wyld is split into countless waypoints, self-contained domains of consistency and coherence. There is no "between" waypoints, and to properly map multiple waypoints would require a directed multigraph in which edges have their own identity. It's fully possible for a waypoint to be infinitely large, with only a few esoteric methods of travel allowing those within it to reach other waypoints.

Third, rather than a list of Permissions dictating what the Raksha can change, areas of the Deep Wyld have Essential Qualities dictating what they cannot. All bets are otherwise off; most Raksha wishes are granted as soon as they are made. Consequently, shaping combat becomes possible.

It should be noted that the Creation-born possess a certain resilience to the wyld's transformations. A Raksha who conjures a mountain above the head of a mortal may be surprised to see that mortal catch the mountain and toss it aside. Generally speaking, Raksha require specific magic to use Wyld-shaping against one of the Creation-born.

Pure Chaos is like the Deep Wyld, but each waypoint is a living Unshaped. There are no Essential Qualities, but the Unshaped will absolutely attack you if you go against their whims. And maybe even if you don't. Many Unshaped possess to ability to consume Raksha entirely, destroying them after defeating them in shaping combat.

There is something beyond the bodies of the Unshaped, a sea of primordial entropy in which the Raksha-islands float, but the Creation-born cannot interact with it at all absent specialised magic. You can't go there because there isn't a there to go to; the chaos beyond the Unshaped generally lacks any space to occupy.

When two or more Raksha (or other beings with authority over the Wyld) cannot agree about what should happen in a waypoint of the Deep Wyld or Pure Chaos, shaping combat ensues. Shaping combat is similar to regular combat, but it uses unique shaping combat stats and it's somewhat simpler. There's no movement in shaping combat, there's only one kind of damage, each character has only one defence stat, and certain physical-combat concepts like battle groups simply do not apply. An attack in shaping combat consists of narration; if successful, the narrated events occur within the disputed waypoint. Withering attacks cannot specify the actions of other Raksha, but decisive attacks can and must. A Raksha who is defeated in shaping combat is bound to cooperate with the winner's narration until that narration changes drastically or something from outside the waypoint disrupts the story.

Allowable narration for shaping combat attacks consists of anything that would be allowed if no other Raksha was interefering. Accordingly, shaping combat can get pretty wild; it's generally trivial for one Raksha to declare that eighty-eight million copies of the Unconquered Sun attack their opponent out of nowhere. And assuming a successful attack roll, that will actually happen. But unless the attack is decisive there's no guarantee that the Suns manage to harm their target at all, and even if the attack is decisive and fatal a Raksha with shaping health levels to spare can just narrate themself back to life.

It should be noted that bad or incoherent storytelling generally incurs low/no stunt bonuses.

Shaping combat is generally fought unarmed and unarmoured, but certain Raksha possess shaping weapons and armour. Shaping weapons consist of narrative elements that can be used in storytelling, while shaping armour consists of a narrative role that the "wearer" can inhabit. A Raksha with a shaping weapon of "Tepet Ejava" can use its traits on any shaping attack that includes Tepet Ejava in its narration, while a Raksha with shaping armour of "poor abused child" can add to their soak as long as they narrate themselves as a poor abused child.
 
Exalted's sorcerer, vile selfish things who broke down reality to improve the human's living condition, call your local Immaculate monks if you spot one of them sorcerer doing charity and helping the needy :mob:

 
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