The Trouble with Tentacles
by Reverend Dungeon MasterHere’s the situation, fearless adventurers. You’ve entered the decrepit remains of an ancient amphitheater, the kind where locals probably watched overly dramatic tragedies about doomed heroes. Ironically, you’re about to star in one yourself. The air reeks of mildew, and the moonlight filtering through the collapsed roof casts unsettling shadows across crumbling columns. That’s when you notice it: a sleek, black shape prowling the edges of the arena, its eyes glowing like it’s judging your life choices. Oh, and it has tentacles. Welcome to the Displacer Beast Experience.
Encounter Setup
As you step further into the amphitheater, the Displacer Beast emerges from the shadows, its sleek body shimmering with an almost liquid light. Its tentacles lash the air menacingly, daring you to come closer. This thing isn’t just here for the scenery, it’s hungry, and guess what’s on the menu?
Displacer Beast
Large Monstrosity, Lawful Evil
Armor Class: 13 (natural armor)
Hit Points: 85 (10d10 + 30)
Speed: 40 ft.
STR: 18 (+4) | DEX: 15 (+2) | CON: 16 (+3) | INT: 6 (-2) | WIS: 12 (+1) | CHA: 8 (-1)
Saving Throws: DEX +4, CON +5
Skills: Perception +3, Stealth +4
Senses: Darkvision 60 ft., Passive Perception 13
Languages: —
Challenge: 3 (700 XP)
Features
Displacement. Ah, the beast’s signature party trick. It projects a magical illusion that makes it look like it’s over there when it’s actually right here. Every attack against it has disadvantage because hitting an optical illusion is apparently harder than walking blindfolded through a minefield. If someone finally manages to land a hit, congrats, champ! The illusion fizzles out until the start of its next turn. Enjoy your brief moment of clarity before the nightmare resets.
Avoidance. Because life isn’t unfair enough, this beast also has a built-in "nope" button for damage. If it needs to make a saving throw to take half damage, it just decides not to take any on a success. You know, for fun. On a failure, it begrudgingly accepts half damage, which is still more mercy than it probably deserves.
Combat
The Displacer Beast kicks off the encounter by channeling its inner track star, zigzagging through the amphitheater like it’s training for some kind of twisted obstacle course. It stays mobile, bouncing off rubble and dodging attacks like it has a personal vendetta against stationary combat. Hope you like chasing shadows. Literally.
Multiattack. The beast delivers two tentacle smacks per round, just to keep things lively.
Tentacle. Melee Weapon Attack: +6 to hit, reach 10 ft., one target. Hit: 8 (1d6 + 4) bludgeoning damage plus 3 (1d6) piercing damage. Yes, it hurts. A lot.
Tactics
The beast’s strategy is simple: go after the weakest member of your party, because nothing screams "fun encounter" like bullying the wizard. If someone actually manages to land a hit, miraculously breaking its Displacement ability, it immediately hits the eject button, scurrying into the shadows to reset its magical "can’t-touch-this" field.
If your group thinks huddling together will help, think again. The beast uses the amphitheater’s crumbling rubble to turn the terrain into an ankle-breaking nightmare, gleefully punishing your melee fighters as they fumble through uneven footing. Meanwhile, it continues to dart around like a smug blur, taking potshots and making you question every decision that led you here.
CR: 3? Seriously?!
Good luck.
Flavor Commentary
The rogue misses, swears under their breath, and mutters something about this being why they prefer treasure maps to actual combat. The wizard tries Fire Bolt, misses spectacularly, and then claims they were “testing line of sight.” Meanwhile, the barbarian gets fed up and charges blindly into the beast’s path, creating a perfect distraction for the cleric to shout, “I told you so!” while healing someone.
The Displacer Beast slashes, retreats, and generally makes your lives miserable until someone finally decides to use a spell that doesn’t require an attack roll (Magic Missile, anyone?).
Conclusion
After several rounds of chaotic flailing, creative spellcasting, and more swearing than a pirate ship, the Displacer Beast lets out a snarling cry and collapses into a heap. Its shimmering hide loses its glow, leaving behind a defeated, but still intimidating, corpse.
The rogue, predictably, starts looting immediately. The barbarian wipes off their axe and complains about it being “too quick.” The wizard congratulates themselves for their one successful Ray of Frost, and the cleric contemplates whether this is the life they signed up for.
Treasure & XP
Treasure:
A Displacer Beast Hide (worth 250 gp to the right buyer)
A ruby-studded dagger (nonmagical, 150 gp)
35 gp scattered in the rubble
Potion of Greater Healing (for the cleric who’s officially tired of healing everyone else)
XP: 700 (CR 3, divided among the party)
You’ve survived the Displacer Beast! Good job, heroes. Now, enjoy the long rest you’ve definitely earned, assuming nothing else in this cursed amphitheater wants a piece of you.
