The Ragequit Hydra
by Reverend Dungeon MasterYou’re standing ankle-deep in the Swamp of Spite, which, judging by the smell, was named after its ability to spite your nose and sense of dignity. You didn’t even want to be here. Some overly enthusiastic rumor-chaser in the group heard about “untold riches guarded by a hydra.” Classic. Now you’re looking at six heads of pure bad attitude and wondering why the bard keeps whistling like they’ve got this covered.
The Setup:
You stumble into a misty clearing. Rotten logs and weirdly suspicious stones surround a foul, bubbling pool in the center. Perched on this charming centerpiece is the Ragequit Hydra, a five-headed disaster with the charisma of a wet sock. Each head is mid-screech, bickering in Draconic:
“Greg, you missed again!”
“Maybe if Kevin wasn’t such dead weight—”
“Oh, right, because you’re such a tactical genius, Cheryl!”
It’s like walking into a group chat nobody asked to join. You’re now an unwilling participant.
The Hydra: Your Next Big Mistake
Large Monstrosity, Unaligned, and Definitely Not Your Friend
Armor Class: 15 (because apparently, scales are better than your best armor)
Hit Points: 172 (like a boss battle you weren’t ready for)
Speed: 30 ft. on land, 30 ft. in water (so you’re never safe, anywhere, ever)
Stats (aka the Hydra’s Resume):
Strength: 17 (+3) — Bench-presses adventurers for fun.
Dexterity: 12 (+1) — Graceful enough to dodge your weak attempts.
Constitution: 20 (+5) — Can take a hit and still mock your aim.
Intelligence: 2 (-4) — Dumb as a rock but doesn’t need smarts to ruin you.
Wisdom: 10 (+0) — Knows enough to eat you first.
Charisma: 7 (-2) — Not here to win hearts, just tear them out.
Special Features
Hold Breath: This overachiever can hold its breath for an hour, meaning your water ambush plans are officially canceled.
Multiple Heads: Five heads, five times the pain. While it has more than one head, the hydra shrugs off stuff like blindness, charm, fear, and stuns because it’s got backups. One head dies? Big deal, it’ll just grow two more. But hey, if you set it on fire, it sulks and doesn’t regrow heads. Fire solves everything.
Wakeful: While this thing naps, at least one head stays awake. It’s like an obnoxious night owl roommate that never lets the party end.
Hydra Rant: At the start of its turn, roll a d6. On a 1, one head goes into a rant so heated it forgets to attack. On a 6, all heads join in, screaming insults in Draconic. Anyone who understands takes 5 psychic damage because, honestly, it hurts to listen.
Ragequit Mode: When this bad boy hits half HP, it gets a buff +2 AC and Advantage on attacks, because nothing fuels rage like losing. However, one head “ragequits” each round, sulking instead of attacking.
Actions
Multiattack: The hydra attacks as many times as it has heads. That’s right, five bite attacks per round. Why? Because the designers of this game hate you.
Bite:
Attack Roll: +8 to hit.
Damage: 10 (1d10 + 5) piercing.
Reach: 10 feet, because apparently, adventurers are snacks served at arm’s length.
This creature isn’t here to ruin just your day, it’s aiming for your week. Whenever you think you’re making progress by chopping off a head, two more show up like the hydra just forwarded your number to its annoying cousins. Fire spells? Sure, that’ll stop it from regenerating, but let’s be real: you didn’t prepare fire spells, did you?
The Takeaway
The hydra isn’t just a monster, it’s a life lesson. It teaches you humility, poor decision-making, and the importance of over-preparing. Your DM is probably cackling right now, and honestly, you deserve it. Bring marshmallows for the fire damage. You’ll need them.
BACK TO THE ACTION (AKA YOUR DOOM):
The hydra swivels five pairs of judgmental eyes toward your group. One head sizes you up, muttering, “Really? Adventurers? Again?” Another sighs, “I bet they brought fire spells. It’s always fire.” Yet another hisses, “Stop giving them ideas!” Then they lunge, and you immediately regret every life choice that brought you here.
Tactics to Make You Suffer:
The hydra doesn’t hold back. Each bite feels personal, targeting whoever insulted it most recently. (Yes, that includes your sorcerer muttering “six-headed idiot” under their breath.)
If you think ranged attacks will save you, think again. It sloshes into the muck, making it harder to hit while gleefully snapping at anyone unlucky enough to close in.
Use fire, and the heads scream in unison: “Oh, look! They brought fire! How original!” Then it bites harder.
The Loot You Earned the Hard Way:
After you finally take the thing down (and no, you’ll never feel clean again), you find its hoard.
Wand of Magic Missiles: There’s a sticky note attached that reads, “This is why Greg can’t have nice things.”
200 gold coins: Each is engraved with tiny hydra heads. Cute, until you drop them, and they start yelling at each other.
A Scroll of Fireball with the words “Seriously?!” scribbled in the margin.
A Jeweled Necklace worth 750 gp, presumably stolen from someone with better taste than you.
XP and Bragging Rights:
Slaying the hydra nets you 3,900 XP, split among your crew.
Treasure value adds 950 XP to the pot.
Total XP: 4,850 XP and one traumatized party.
Your Reward, Dear Adventurer:
As the mist clears, you realize the swamp has fallen silent. The hydra’s severed heads lie still, until one twitches. In its final breath, it whispers, “You’ll never be as good as Kevin.” Congratulations. You’ve survived... but you can still hear the bickering in your sleep.
