#complete tangent but i always get so thrown off when americans talk about states like this

[frankiebirds]

morgan's reaction to reid revealing he's never been to new york is so funny to me. maybe it's that he says his first line:

jj speaks:

(two sidenotes: one: jj is very cute here. two: why is she sitting like that)

and then morgan keeps going:

i think it would be less funny to me if there wasn't a beat between his two lines because it gives the impression that he's just Stuck on this train of thought. if hotch hadn't stopped their silliness to remind them that they're in a crime show would he have kept going. "it's four hours in your gay little car! it's a 24 hour 34 minute bike ride! it's a 112 hour walk! what is wrong with you!"

[sailorgreywolf-legacy]

Legacy - Chapter 44

The image of the mysterious solider swam through Mexico's head for days after the encounter. Every time he closed his eyes to go to sleep, he could still see the final moment when he had turned back to look in breathtaking clarity. He awoke feeling the same energy coursing through his blood. Something about the man had left a very clear impression and an entirely novel feeling. He awoke and walked around until the buzz wore off. Even once they had left the city and the man behind, Mexico couldn't stop himself from thinking about him. Only the heat of battle distracted him from the memory. He knew his obsession was growing, but there was no help for it. It was a welcome day when Morelos announced the plan for the next campaign.

The map was laid out on the table with Morelos at the head of the table with his commanders around him. Mexico focused on the map, trying to not let himself think of anything else. Strategy was an exciting way to fill his mind. Morelos was speaking, "On the whole, we have been victorious as one army. But, this is slow. I have decided that we should split the army in three parts; hopefully, that will allow us to take the rest of the South." The people around the table all nodded or muttered in approval. Mexico had no reason to question the strategy either. He had learned over the past few months that he could put his trust entirely in the mortal. Morelos had proved that he was an excellent strategist and a purely patriotic soul. The combination was both potent and confidence inspiring. As it was, Mexico didn't feel the need to say anything in response to the plan. His silent consent should be enough. When Morelos's eyes met his, he nodded silently.

Orders were given and the room slowly cleared out, leaving Mexico alone with his leader. When he was sure no one else was in the room, Mexico spoke, "I assume I'll be staying with you?" He already knew the answer. With a bounty on him, Mexico would be far more at risk. He knew that no mortal would be capable of dragging him back to Spain, but that certainly wouldn't be reassuring to Morelos.

The answer soon came, "You will. I want to be able to keep an eye on you." He caught the look on Mexico's face and added, "You don't like it. You're a strong-willed person, but I don't think I misunderstand the situation. If you are captured, then we lose the chance at independence." He wasn't wrong, and Mexico knew it. It had become very clear that if Spain got Mexico back, he would likely drag the boy back to Madrid. That would effectively end the independence movement.

The protective gestures were at least coming from a good place. Mexico looked up at the mortal and felt a warm glow in his chest. He wondered how he had ever distrusted this man who believed in him, in the cause, so fully. He spoke, trying to give voice to the feeling in his chest, "I do appreciate you keeping me safe. I appreciate everything you've done for me."

Morelos looked almost shocked at the words. He responded after a long pause, "I didn't expect you to say that. What has changed?" Mexico realized how much the other had been holding back his affection. The boy had been acting very cold to Morelos, and on some level he realized that it was because he didn't want anyone to replace Hidalgo. Even without any affection from Mexico, Morelos had thrown himself entirely into battle after battle. How much the man had done without any reciprocation had not properly dawned on Mexico until this moment.

He responded, "I've been cold to you and I'm sorry for that. But I've realized that Miguel is gone and I need to stop expecting you to be him. You've done a lot for me and I do appreciate it." It wasn't as eloquent as Mexico had intended it to be, but it was at least heartfelt. Apologizing was not his forte, seeing as he rarely did it. Morelos smiled slowly and took a couple steps towards Mexico. He replied, "I've been waiting for you to say that." He stopped for a moment and looked down. When he looked back up at Mexico, something had shifted in him.

He pointed to one of the chairs and said, "There is something I want to tell you. You should sit." With his interest piqued, Mexico decided that he should trust the man and sit. Once he was seated, Morelos sat as well. The man reached out and put his hand on top of Mexico's where it was on the table. The contact was new, the pair of them had never made skin-to-skin contact, it was a paternal gesture that was both similar and different from the ones that Hidalgo had made. It was comforting and Mexico decided not to pull away.

Morelos spoke, "I am happy with the progress we have made, but military conquest is not the way to build a lasting state. We need to have an official declaration of independence. We need an official constitution or this will all crumble as soon as Spain leaves. There will be a power vacuum if we don't already have a structure in place." The words made perfect logical sense. However, it had a wonderful kind of confidence in it.

It was this that Mexico addressed when he responded, "How would we do that when we don't even have half of my land back under our control?" The mortal looked concerned and said, "I don't think we can do it now. When we have enough of the country under our control, we will bring representatives together to decide on a constitution." What was striking was the assumption that this would be complete possible with time and continued victory.

Again, when Mexico spoke he focused on this, "So, this is your ambition?" The other responded with a nod, "When we met, I told you that I wanted to bring you independence, and that is still true. But, I can't rely on military might entirely. If we were to establish a monarchy enforced by the army, then how are we any different from the tyranny that we are trying to throw off?" Mexico hadn't bothered to think about what he would do with independence when he finally had it. The kind of foresight had never seemed important. It still seemed that the actual victory was too far away to be thinking about what to do after it.

Mexico responded with another pleasant smile, "For both out sakes, I hope you get the chance to fulfill your ambition. But there are victories to be won before then, and that is what we should think about." He stood up, intent on leaving and informing Philippines of the plans that had been made. But, the mortal speaking stopped him, "I worry about you. You may be my country, but you are an individual first and you are far too militarily minded. You can't fight for the whole of your existence; it would be wise to consider options for peace." _______________________________________________________________________

America cut in, "He was right, you know. You always have been really aggressive." Mexico responded without even a second of silence, "I haven't had a military coup for at least a century; a fact that you seem to be fond of forgetting. I buried my tendency to fight." He turned slightly and fixed his gaze on the blonde, "You, on the other hand, have only gotten worse with age. I'm not the one who has been at war since the world wars." He was getting tired of pointing out the other's hypocrisy every time the story stopped, but now that he was this far, he couldn't stop. Telling the whole story was a very cathartic experience, and it really didn't matter what Alfred thought of it.

But the American seemed mollified by his own hypocrisy, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way. But, even you must admit that you're confrontational by nature." This was, at least, true. There was no need to talk around it, and Mexico didn't attempt to, "Honestly, Alfred, my parents were both empires who ruled by constant conquest. A man who gained an empire by killing everyone who got in his way raised me. Do you really expect me to be tame when both my blood and my upbringing tell me the opposite?" America opened his mouth as though about to respond but then decided that it was better not to and resolutely closed his mouth.

Mexico took it as an invitation to continue the story, "Now, if you will stop distracting me with your tangents, I will continue the story that you asked for. The second campaign went very much like the first, victory after victory. But, what was even more important was the turning of the public will. The common people began to understand that independence would be best for them. We didn't have to fight for every town anymore." _______________________________________________________________________

The gates of Cuautla were wide open as the army reached them. The city was welcoming them with open arms. This was the kind of entrance that Mexico wanted to make. It felt good to be welcomed by his own people in this fashion. There was a bite of cold in the air, as it was getting late in the winter months, but nothing could put a damper on his spirits. The streets were lined with people as they rode in. The colors and flags of the independence were obvious from every window. There were cheers from the crowd, who surged forward to greet the incoming army. Mexico could feel his heart swelling in his chest. He was realizing that the nationalism and love of his people felt better than anything else.

Guerrero was right next to him, and the man leaned over and said, "Do you know what day it is?" Mexico shook his head in response. He had lost track of the exact days a long time ago. He knew it was December, but the rest had slipped away. The mortal responded with a slight smile, "It's Christmas Eve." The news was not completely unexpected, but it made him smile all the same. He replied, "Well, then it is a day to celebrate."

His attention was suddenly drawn away by a girl running up to the front of the crowd and saying, "Senior! Senior!" Mexico turned his head to see a young girl, just barely a teenager, was looking up at him with a smile. Her hand was extended towards him and she was holding a poinsettia. Mexico felt himself smile and reached out and took the flower. The single gift seemed to express the love of an entire population. It warmed his heart, even though he was well aware that this was only a single city that would mean little without victories following this.

He finally turned back to Guerrero to see that the man was looking at him with an expression of adoration. He spoke, "It seems that the people love you." The sparkle in his dark eyes expressed more, but Mexico dared not read into it farther. He could tell that the man was serious on some level.

He replied evasively, "They love what we represent. They love the idea of independence, as we all do." He said it to put an end to the conversation, even though he knew that that was exactly the reason affection was being shown to him. But, this was not sufficient, Guerrero replied, "I love my country as well, but you have your own magnetism." Before he could stop himself, Mexico said, "Those two are not as unrelated as you think." The other looked puzzled, but didn't pry into the statement.

They were offered the most opulent residence in the city, and they were soon settled. Mexico was standing in the front gardens of the manor house. From here, he could see the sun setting over the city that had been thrown open for him The warm feeling of welcome was still wrapped around him, making him feel light and strangely buoyant.

He heard the clearing of a throat behind him. It could be anyone, but there was certain femininity to the sound. So, when he turned to see Philippines standing behind him with a letter in her hand. He spoke, "Hello Piri, what do you want?" She sighed and said, "What I want has hardly seemed to matter to you. But I have a letter for you from your brother." The sentence was surprising because Mexico had not spared a thought for Texas in more than a year. The last he had heard of his brother had been the false lead that had doomed Hidalgo and Allende. He had not thought about his brother's involvement. He had no real desire to read the letter; it had been blissfully quiet without Texas.

He said to Philippines, "Have you already read it?" He didn't need to ask; he could see the broken seal. It didn't bother him that she was reading his mail, it saved him the trouble of reading the letters that he didn't want to read. She nodded and replied quickly, "It's wordy and rather desperate. Apparently Antonio captured him when he was delivering your offer to Alfred. He was just released and he begs to be able to come to you and be of use again."

It made perfect sense; if Texas had been captured then Spain would have gotten the entire plan of action and been able to make his decisive move. That was enough to make Mexico categorically consider his brother a traitor. But, there was another reason to deny Texas. If Spain released a prisoner, then he must have a reason. Most likely, he realized that Texas would immediately run back to Mexico and give away the boy's location. So, he responded to Philippines, "I'll write him later and tell him that there is no possibility of him coming back to me. I will have one of the other sections of the army pick him up if he tells me where he is. Until then, we can't risk contact."

Mexico stopped speaking when he noticed the look on the girl's face. She looked like this was exactly what she wanted to be hearing, a small smile was turning up the corners of her mouth. He changed the subject, "But you couldn't be more glad to hear that, could you?" She took a step closer to him and fixed her black eyes on him.

When she spoke, it was clear she was completely sincere, "I don't like your brother. He told me I had no right to care for you because I am not blood related to you. Everything has been easier without him." Mexico didn't disagree, but he was distracted by the fact that Philippines was talking slow steps towards him. The space between them was getting progressively smaller.

She abruptly changed the subject, looking up at him as she did so, "I have to ask you, Alejandro. What do you feel for Guerrero? I always tried to ignore the rumors that you preferred boys, but when I watch you two together, I can't help but think there is something there." Mexico was shocked by the question, because he hadn't thought it had been outwardly obvious. He hadn't properly defined his feelings to himself, so it was hard to come up with a response. Several seconds of silence stretch out, agonizingly long before Mexico finally said, "I'm not certain. I know he's important to me, but I can say why for sure."

One of her eyebrows rose, "You know that wasn't what I was asking. He's only mortal, his love won't be eternal." Suddenly, her tone seemed very critical. Mexico didn't want to be questioned or doubted, he did that enough on his own. Moreover, she was questioning him as an equal when he had established a hierarchy between the,. His choice of interests couldn't be anywhere near as damaging as the other mistakes he had made. He took a couple steps backward and hardened his voice, "That's enough, Piri. I'm focused on beating Antonio, I don't have time to contemplate romantic feelings for anyone."

The girl looked down at his feet and said, "Yes, I had noticed that." She turned and walked away, the wind catching her loose black hair as she did. Mexico couldn't shake the feeling that he had said something terribly wrong. However, he couldn't dwell on it. _______________________________________________________________________

Mexico paused without the other making any comment and said, "I could bore you with the battles we had in that campaign, but it should be enough to simply say that as before, we won over and over again. Even the risk of three smaller armies paid off." America caught the hesitant tone in the other's voice and said, "But that wasn't the end of it?" Mexico fixed his stony gaze on the blonde and replied, his voice reflecting a rage that was reawakened in the pit of his stomach, "Of course not. I underestimated my opponent again. Antonio waited until I brought my army back together at Cuautla, and then he made his move." This was supposed to be the transition into the next part of the story, but America had other things on his mind.

He spoke, "Does that mean Texas was back with you? I don't remember seeing him again until you were independent." Mexico snapped back, "You always think of him. But to answer your question, yes he returned." _______________________________________________________________________

Texas looked like he had been traveling for days, his hair and simple clothing were both disheveled. But as soon as he saw his brother, he took a few more steps and dropped to one knee. He spoke, "Thank you for letting me come back, brother." The light shifted across Texas's face and Mexico noticed something. He reached down and put his hand under his brother's chin. He forced the man to look at him. The yellow-green of a healing bruise was splashed across his cheek. Judging from the location, Texas's eyes had probably swelled up for a time.

Mexico finally spoke, "What happened to your face?" The brightness went out of the other's eyes as he realized the direction the conversation was going, "Antonio hit me. He didn't like me looking so much like you. He's not stable anymore since you broke his heart." Mexico felt no pity for his brother, because he had been thinking through the sequence of events and there was only one answer. The only way Spain could have known about the agreement with America well enough to manipulate it the way he did was if Texas had told him.

It was this that Mexico addressed, "And what did you tell him?" His brother immediately looked up and him and said quickly, "Nothing. I didn't tell him anything; believe me!" Mexico shook his head and took a step back, "You know I can't do that, Diego. The timing is too perfect."

Texas stood up suddenly, his eyes full of rage. He was level with his brother. Without any hesitation, he unbuttoned his jacket and threw it to the floor. He then pulled off his shirt, revealing his chest. The skin was littered with the marks of old bruises, some massive enough to be made by something other than fists. Texas spoke, "This is what he did to me because I wouldn't tell him anything about you. I took these blows for you, brother, so don't you dare call me a traitor."

After at least a year of being apart, it was bracing for Mexico to deal with his brother again. Usually, he would remain firm, but the obvious marks of abuse softened him. For a moment, he remembered that Texas shared blood with him and was his responsibility. He responded by reaching out and putting one hand on his brother's bare shoulder.

He replied, "I'm sorry for my suspicion. This war has become harder for me, and it has become difficult for me to trust anyone." As was his conditioning around his brother, Texas looked down now that his rage had cooled. He replied still looking at Mexico's boots, "I do understand how much it must have hurt you to lose Hidalgo." Mexico simply nodded, not entirely ready to talk about his losses with his brother. An uncomfortable silence stretched on between them, which Texas desperately attempted to fill, "I know we came to blows when I was last with you, but I promise it will be better this time. I have had time to reflect on my mistakes." Mexico nodded, but again said nothing in response. Hitting Texas was the last thing he had to regret at the moment.

Their conversation was interrupted by Philippines throwing open the door on the other side of the room and saying to the room at large, "Alejandro, you need to go talk to Morelos right now. There is bad news." She stopped in her tracks and looked directly at Texas and said, "Oh I didn't know you were back." Mexico was not oblivious to the hostile glances the pair were throwing at each other, but he chose to ignore it because whatever news Morelos wanted to tell him was more important than the petty rivalry. He walked past both of them to reach the door, saying as he did so, "I will be back, try not to kill each other while I am gone."

Mexico knocked on the door, even though he knew that Morelos was expecting him. It was a courtesy, which was quickly answered with the perfunctory, "Come in." As soon as he was in the room, Mexico said, "What's the news from the front, Jose?" The mortal turned and looked at him. Mexico noticed that there was a set of letters lying on the table, each definitely carrying news from messengers. He thought for a moment about walking forward and reading them, but he had a feeling that he was about to get the summary of the information.

Sure enough, Morelos said, "I have received news that Spanish forces are closing off all the routes to this city. They are slowly closing in on us. I expect we will see them in a few days." Mexico's heart sped up, possibly out of fear, as he realized the significance of this, "So, it's a siege?" The other nodded and responded, clearly trying to mask his own concern, "It appears that way, yes."

There was only one logical response to a siege, and that was to not treat it as a lost cause already. Mexico knew from firsthand experience that sieges could be broken. Certainly, the idea was to break the will of the independence movement and that couldn't be allowed to happen. So, Mexico said, "How long can we hold out before we will be forced to break the siege or surrender?"

The answer to the question was vital, considering that Spain had probably already made the same calculation it was essential that the Spanish forces be unable to effectively hold the siege. Morelos seemed to also recognize the importance of the question and carefully said, "At least a month, I'm not entirely certain after that." Mexico nodded and said, trying to keep all traces of uncertainty out of his voice, "Well, we will have to hope that that's long enough." With that, he turned and left.

As he walked back to his room, a single thought started to gestate in Mexico's mind. The siege was coming at the convenient time when almost the entirety of the insurgent army could be trapped in a single city. Texas claimed innocence, but it was strange that this news should come so soon after he returned. Considering the injuries that Mexico had seen, it was completely conceivable that Texas had broken down and turned informant. With treason possible, there was only one option left.

He stormed back to his room and found Philippines and Texas standing on opposite sides of the room glaring at each other. The years they had spent apart had apparently only made the situation worse. But as always, the feud between them meant nothing to Mexico. He had business to take care of with his brother, and that was the only thing on his mind.

First, he turned to Philippines and said, "Piri, I need a moment with my brother." She looked affronted until Mexico gave her a knowing look to imply the contents of his intended conversation and she understood. She then left the room.

Once she was gone, Texas turned to his brother with a slight smile. The sight of the dark, almost black, eyes and the smug, satisfied smile made Mexico feel slightly sick considering the treason he suspected. He didn't bother to speak; he simply took a couple quick steps and grabbed Texas by both shoulders. He slammed his brother against the wall. He could feel the force of the impact vibrate through the other's body. Given the barely healed injuries, the blow probably hurt. The expression of shock and pain on Texas's face confirmed that the position hurt him.

Mexico hissed, "Tell me, brother, what did Antonio promise you? What did he say he'd give you once you gave him me?" His brother's eyes went wide as the meaning of the words hit him. His voice sounded strangled when he responded, "I didn't tell him anything!"

Mexico didn't believe it, the simple denial was not convincing. He would have to confront his brother with the obvious evidence, "So it's just a coincidence that Spanish troops are surrounding this city just as you return?" Texas tried to nod, but Mexico's grip made it effectively impossible, so he said, "I'm loyal to you. Why would I betray you?" Still, the other did not relent.

He responded, "You are loyal because mother told you to be. Mother is dead now." Mexico looked straight into Texas's eyes and saw tears welling up in the corner of the boy's eyes. It was not what he was expecting. He had expected defiance or even admission. But, Texas said, "You're the only thing I have, brother." The pure emotion was enough to alleviate Mexico's suspicion, or at least part of it. Texas was at least afraid enough now to not step out of line.

As he took a step backwards, away from his brother, Mexico said, "Well, we shall see by the end of this siege. Consider your loyalties carefully, little brother. If you ever betray me, I will make you pay with your life." He left Texas standing stock still staring at him with an expression of shock.

[your-dungeon-is-problematic]

Thri-Kreen (AD&D)

Holy shit, it’s been quite a while, hasn’t it? Then again, I’ve had a very busy summer. And May, of course, was total bedlam what with the graduating from university and such. And of course this fall, where my faith in the American people was...uh, let’s call it “shaken”, even though that rather undersells it, in my opinion. Hmm. Well, without any more hemming and/or hawing, thri-kreen. Mantis men. Zorak, even. Really, what’s not to love about the thri-kreen? They’re MANTIS MEN. That is awesome! I mean, sure, none of their forearms have chitinous blades for hands like actual mantises, but four hands means four weapons, plus, they’re psionic.  I’d say that makes up for not being Scyther.

General:

“Thri-kreen are a race of large, intelligent insect often referred to as ‘mantis warriors.’ They roam the deserts and savannah, where they have marked-out hunting territories. They have no need of sleep and can remain active through the day and night.” ...Well, on the one hand, they aren’t hampered by lack of sleep, and on the other, it must mean their caloric intake is ludicrous considering they are constantly active. ...Then again, that’s probably why they’re constantly roaming their various hunting grounds...? “Mature adult thri-kreen are roughly 7 feet tall at the shoulder and 11 feet long.” Well, that’s nothing if not imposing! “Of the six limbs protruding from their midsection, two are used for walking; the other four end in four-fingered hands.” I mean it’s interesting, but I can’t help but think looking at the example thri-kreen presented up top as looking a little unbalanced with how thin and skittery his legs are. Like, four arms is a wonderful gimmick that adds to what they can do? It’s just that from a practical perspective I can’t help but think the thri-kreen would have been best served on an evolutionary level with four legs and two arms. But who am I to judge? “The tough, sandy-yellow exoskeleton is extremely hard. A thri-kreen has two compound eyes, usually black with highlighted eyespots, two antennae, and a complicated jaw structure that manipulates food as the thri-kreen chews. The antennae help the individual to maneuver through brush and grasslands in the darkness (they also reduce any melee combat penalty from darkness or blindness by 1; missile combat is not affected). Thri-kreen often wear harnesses and even some forms of clothing, but they never wear armor.” This is all fairly accurate to regular mantis anatomy (though as I recall, most mantises have some kind of extra simpler eyes in the middle of their head? But I suppose that’s not majorly important), but the thing I question is their refusal to wear armor? Like, is this supposed to be a purely mechanical thing? They’ll later on state that their exoskeleton gives them a natural Armor Class of 5; would wearing actual armor over that be that much of an overkill? Is this supposed to reference how in their native Dark Sun setting, metal armor is among the rarest of artifacts? Because even as a species with a hard, chitinous exoskeleton, I think I would want as much protection as I can afford if I’m a soldier or mercenary of some stripe. Like, the exoskeleton is great and all, but if something gets through that exoskeleton, it’s like you’ve lost armor plating, and have broken a bone, and have exposed your squishy innards in one fell swoop.  “The native thri-kreen language is made up of clicks and the grinding of its jaw appendages. While it is difficult for other creatures to speak this tongue, it is just as difficult for a thri-kreen to imitate more standard speech patterns. Thri-kreen speak their own language, but some understand the Common tongue.” Inevitably leading to Chewbacca-and-Han-Solo-esque bilingual dialogues as the one guy in the party who understands thri-kreen talks to their one guy who understands Common.  Unless somebody has some kind of enchanted doodad to allow thri-kreen to speak Common unhindered, assuming they know it. Such are the luxuries of a fantastical setting, eh? “Three-kreen seldom live more than 35 years.” Oh. Ohhhh. Ohhhhhhhhh... It’s a real good thing they don’t need sleep, then. Really have to maximize their time, while they still have it.

Combat: “A thri-kreen’s chitinous exoskeleton gives it AC 5 naturally. Unarmed, it can attack with four claws and one bite attack per round.” No offense, but lacking the natural blades of regular mantids, those arms look rather willowy, and trying to use them for mere fisticuffs seems a waste. And while those mouthparts look sharp, I don’t generally think of mantises when I think of “vicious bites”.  “If using a weapon, the thri-kreen can attack with its weapon and bite.” See, now that’s more like it. And judging by the illustration, it would appear they very well might be able to quadruple-wield! ...Though considering the various penalties that would involve, perhaps it would be best to just wield a two-handed weapon with four hands. Hell, perhaps some bonuses for that could come into play, I don’t know. I mean, you’re using more hands than is necessary, thereby giving your blows more force, and--ah, never mind. Bit of a longwinded tangent. “Thri-kreen also learn special combat maneuvers as they grow older, learning all by the time they are mature adults.” Oh! This is different! Do tell! “Leap: This ability allows a thri-kreen to leap 20 feet straight up or up to 50 feet forward. They cannot leap backward.” Criminy! That’s...really rather impressive. I mean I suppose great leaping is more of a grasshopper, cricket, or flea-associated ability, more than with mantises, but...I don’t know, it seems like a rather clever reference to whenever one is trying to compare the jumping ability of any of those insects to a human scale? ...Though I must say I’m a tad puzzled at this being a learned combat maneuver, and not merely a natural jumping ability, merely being applied to combat scenarios... “Chatkcha: This is a crystalline throwing wedge. A thri-kreen can throw two chatkcha per round, up to 90 yards. A chatkcha causes 1d6+2 damage when it hits, and returns to the thrower when it misses.” ...Boomerangs? ...Well, okay then. I like boomerangs. Boomerangs are neat. Don’t know why the tri-kreen in particular have boomerangs, but I’m not complaining. :V “Venom: This venom is delivered through an older thri-kreen’s bite. Anyone bitten must make a successful saving throw vs. paralyzation or be paralyzed. Smaller than man-sized creatures are paralyzed for 2d10 rounds, man-sized for 2d8 rounds, large creatures for 1d8 rounds, and huge and gargantuan creatures for only one round.” I...wait, what? Venom? The mantis-men have venom? I could understand driders, being spider people, or naga or yuan-ti, being snake people, having venom, but...the mantis-men? That doesn’t follow. I mean, of course I don’t think any sapient fantastical species mostly based on one creature needs to stick to the abilities of the animal, but the additions should at least make sense. ...Also, that sounds like a great way to make a group of thri-kreen a pretty huge threat. If someone’s unlucky they’re out for 16 rounds, 20 if they’re a dwarf or halfling. “Dodge missiles: A mature thri-kreen can dodge missile fired at it on a roll of 9 or better on 1d20; they cannot dodge magical effects, only physical missiles. Magical physical missiles (arrows, thrown axes, etc.) modify this roll by their magical bonus.” Oh! Bullet time! Neat! And unlike the venom thing, this actually makes some sense, on account of how zippy a striking mantis is. Also, that’s literally bullet time if you have guns in your campaign setting. What’s more, since it’s dependent on the thri-kreen’s roll, it doesn’t even matter if the archer or gunslinger are really good (unless it’s a natural 20, I think, which will always hit? but I don’t know how you’d work that out), it’s all dependent on wether or not the DM rolls well on those dodge rolls. And on a 9 or higher, the odds are in the thri-kreen’s favor.  Color me impressed. Don’t piss off the mantis-men, especially if your party mostly consists of ranged folks.  “Psionics: Some thri-kreen have psionic wild talents. There is a 50% chance that any thri-kreen will have a psionic wild talent, described in the Complete Psionics Handbook.” Oh right, that’s a big thing in Dark Sun, isn’t it? The proliferation of psionic powers? Hell, the description’s kind of underplaying it by saying “some” thri-kreen have psionic powers if a full 50% have them. A few bad coin flips and the party is being tossed about by a group of angry insectoid Jean Greys (Jeans Grey? ...Grey Jeans?). “Magical Items: Thri-kreen can use most magical items, though those designed for humanoid creatures cannot be worn properly, so will not function for a thri-kreen.” ...I mean that makes sense, but that’s a little vague. Like surely magical weapons work the same, it’s not like they don’t have hands. Not to mention magical rings, necklaces, bracelets, hell, even like a tiara or crown or circlet or something if situated properly around those antennae. You’d definitely have to make some alterations to, say, a magical chain shirt, or something, to give it the proper arm spacing. Not to mention the four arm holes. But such a carte-blanche “it don’t work” doesn’t seem terribly reasonable. It’s not like they’re weird blob things, they have arms, legs, a head...most of the general stuff should still work alright, in my limited estimation.

Habitat/Society: “Thri-kreen organize into hunting packs; there are no permanent thri-kreen communities.” Tch, pity, really. I mean, it seems mostly a measure to ensure you can justify a thri-kreen random encounter. “Uh, they were just...out here. Hunting. Yeah. Now fight them, take their stuff.” Unless of course you use your random encounter table for things that aren’t just for random murder opportunities for your party.

Ecology: “Thri-kreen are carnivores. They seldom hunt other intelligent creatures for food, but will do so in times of need.” Well, better than the lizard men, who explicitly prefer the taste of human flesh. I prefer Donner Party behavior to eating people when there are perfectly serviceable non-sapient animals and plants to choose from available already. “Mantis warriors have a well-known taste for elves, which keeps both races at an uneasy peace at best.” ...Wait, what?! You just said they seldom hunt other intelligent creatures for food, now you’re saying they have a taste for elves?! ...I mean, granted, the word “seldom” implies a non-zero number of intelligent creature hunts in non-starvation conditions, but still, that seems like a contradiction, to me. 

Related Species: “The tohr-kreen, or mantis nobles, are larger, more cultured versions of thri-kreen. Though many of them wander their world to gain knowledge, they sometimes build cities as well. They regard thri-kreen as somewhat barbaric cousins, though there have been incidences of a tohr-kreen creating a permanent settlement of thri-kreen, or teaching a pack more civilized ways.” ...Okay, well, first of all, “more civilized ways” are in the eye of the beholder. Second of all, they earlier mentioned that thri-kreen do not create permanent settlements. Yet, the tohr-kreen do? I suppose I’m not really convinced that these tohr-kreen are actually a distinct species so much as a ruling class/caste of the same species. The “larger” thing, which would appear to be the only explicit physical difference between tohr- and thri-kreen, could easily just be the fact that noblemen of cultures the world over and throughout history have been better fed than the peasants, allowing them to grow larger instead of having their growth stunted through malnutrition. “The xixchil are spacefaring mantis. These creatures are skilled surgeons and artificers, who enjoy replacing lost limbs with ‘more efficient’ substitutes.” Ooh! Spelljammer shit, sounds like! I love me some sci-fi-fantasy crossover! I mean, they’re really undeveloped, but “skilled surgeons and artificers with a taste for cybernetic enhancement” is almost deeper characterization already than the rather vague and generic “HUNTING CULTURE” that appears to define basic thri-kreen.

Overall: I really think they could have done more with the lore. Like they didn’t even tell us wether thri-kreen women ritualistically kill their mates after conception. Not even as a joke. The most impressive thing about them is their various skills, like their leaping, and their psychic powers, not to mention Bullet Time. I’d say use them, sure, but give them something to work with from a characterization perspective. If you’re going to keep them as hunters, I might go so far as to say crib from the Predator movies, and have THE HUNT be the centerpiece of their culture. Like, superiority in THE HUNT is the be-all, end all.  It’s better than “yeah, uh, they hunt, but sometimes they eat people, except when they don’t, but except when they’re starving.” Give them a proper culture. Though I guess that’s what I usually ask for, then, ain’t it?