Bogged Down with Bullywugs
by Reverend Dungeon MasterYou knew the swamp was a bad idea. The sign at the entrance read “Warning: Quicksand, Bloodsucking Insects, and Aggressive Amphibians”, but of course, your party trudged forward, because “adventure.” Now, knee-deep in a stinking mire, you hear it, the unmistakable ribbit of hostility.
Emerging from the muck like last week’s regrets are six Bullywugs, their bug-eyed faces full of menace. These bipedal, wart-covered miscreants brandish crude spears and croak in a language that sounds suspiciously like an insult to your intelligence. One, slightly larger and wearing a moldy feather in its cap, steps forward and belches threateningly.
Bullywugs (6)
AC: 7 (Leather, damp and moldy)
HD: 2 (9 HP each, except Big Feather, who has 12 HP)
THAC0: 18 (because even amphibians need to roll bad sometimes)
Attacks: 1 (Spear or Bite)
Spear: 1d6 damage
Bite: 1d3 damage (and highly unsanitary)
Movement: 30’ (on land), 60’ (in water)
Special: Can jump 20 feet in a single bound, ignoring difficult terrain
Morale: 8 (10 if their leader is alive; 6 if he croaks, literally)
The lead Bullywug gestures to your party’s packs and ribbits in a tone that unmistakably means “hand over the shinies”. You could comply, but you’re not about to let a gang of amphibious hooligans rob you blind in the middle of a godforsaken bog. And I mean that with all honesty. God has forsaken this place. Besides, their idea of treasure is probably a handful of mud and a half-eaten fish head.
Roll Initiative!
(If you didn’t see this coming, I don’t know what to tell you.)
The Bullywugs attack immediately unless someone offers them food, preferably live, wriggling, and recently screaming. Otherwise, they leap into melee, spears jabbing with the precision of a drunken carpenter. The leader, Big Feather, croaks an eerie war cry, inspiring his goons to attack with reckless abandon (which doesn’t actually change their THAC0, but it makes them feel better about their terrible aim).
Combat Rundown:
Round 1: The Bullywugs jump right over your front line, landing smack in the middle of your party, because they can. One tries to steal the wizard’s spellbook. Another bites the cleric’s arm, possibly mistaking it for a very pasty fish.
Round 2: Big Feather calls for reinforcements, but the only thing that answers is a startled heron that wants none of this nonsense.
Round 3: If at least two Bullywugs die, the others consider tactical retreat, which mostly involves flailing and tripping over each other as they scramble toward the murky depths.
If Big Feather falls: The remaining Bullywugs immediately reconsider their life choices, fleeing with a morale roll of 6 (which, statistically speaking, means they’re definitely running away).
Aftermath: Looting Amphibians for Fun and Profit
Once the carnage ends, you inspect their soggy “treasures” and wonder why you even bothered.
Bullywug Treasure Hoard (if you can call it that):
37 copper pieces (in a pouch made from questionable leather)
2 silver pieces (stuck together with swamp gunk)
A carved wooden idol of a frog-headed deity, possibly worth 10 gp to a collector of bad taste
A moldy scroll case (inside: a half-destroyed map that might lead to treasure, or might just be some swamp idiot’s shopping list)
Big Feather’s cap (fashionable? No. Magical? Also no. But hey, it’s a trophy.)
XP Tally:
6 Bullywugs defeated = 20 XP each (120 XP total)
Treasure recovered = 10 GP equivalent (split among survivors, assuming you don’t count the cleric, who is currently busy extracting Bullywug teeth from their forearm)
Moral victory of not being robbed by amphibians = Priceless
Final Thoughts:
You could track the fleeing Bullywugs back to their lair, where more of them await with equally terrible loot and worse hygiene. Or you could take this as a sign from God (or at least from common sense) that bogs are where bad decisions go to fester.
Either way, you’ll never hear a frog croak the same way again.
Art: Bullywug by Giantstomp on DeviantArt
