While it all sounds very nice, there's another drawback. If the blood of the monsters is for example, powerful but unholy, having possibly detrimental effects to people wouldn't it be bad for melee classes?
They're the ones that get splattered with blood because they're closer to the monster.
It would indeed be bad for anybody who got splashed by the blood of a particular monster whose blood causes very bad effects. That is after all the very point. And whereas I hadn't specifically thought of unholy in this context (I'm assuming you mean some specific gaming effect of unholy), I would agree some monsters would have unholy existences, and unholy remains. (Which is a good point about their dangerousness more widely speaking.) Since you mentioned unholy then, one might consider that the remains of some undead (some who have no blood at all) might wither away at "death, or at the end of their ultimate semi-corporeal existence," while some others might not. The body of a vampire might disintegrate visibly, entirely, or at least in part. That of a mummy just leave behind a semi-desiccated corpse, just depends on the situation and how that particular world is set up to function.
But like all problems in life, or even purely imaginary problems, when there is a given situation, there are ways to mitigate, influence, or alter the situation. That is part of the genius of problem solving and what makes good games interesting in my opinion. For instance one way to approach the monster problem is just to add on hit points and damage-done-tallies ad infinitum. (You make a monster more dangerous by giving him 1500 hit points rather than 150, and by making him do 100 hit points of damage per attack, instead of 10 per attack.) Danger then becomes wholly a tactical battle-matter. Danger is expressed primarily though combat capabilities. That's one way. That is the common in-game method now (I am speaking primarily of game design methods here, rather than particular world or milieu settings, where I am sure there is a much greater range of game-experimentation), in many respects. Everyone knows the basic armor class, hit point totals, capabilities, etc. of most any monster. If they don't they shortly can. It is very similar to wargaming in that you have readily available intelligence based upon scouted or well known troop dispositions, technical descriptions of weapon systems, information on fire-rates, combat experience of the opposing forces, and so forth and so on. The point is you know the enemy, you're not really fighting a monster (
in the sense of the unknown), you're fighting a combat detachment dressed in scales and horn instead of ablative armor, and with a fire nozzle in it's mouth instead of a fifty caliber or a flamethrower mounted on a mobile combat system. So in that sense monsters are simply, and rarely much more, than "dispositions of combat power." So that's one way to handle the "what is a monster really problem," and I wouldn't necessarily argue that's a bad thing in and of itself, because one of the ways monsters are indeed dangerous, is that they are physically dangerous and potentially lethal in combat. But that's just one way to make them dangerous, and it's a very self-limiting way. Because it limits their "threat disposition" to being almost entirely a mechanical exercise in "combat capabilities and potential physical lethality." (As a side it also reduces all less physically and combat threatening monsters to little more than tactical nuisances, and assures magic is the only real way they can be truly threatening. But a truly clever and cunning lesser monster could be a much greater and more dangerous threat if he were dangerous in ways other than just an expression of his combat capability stats. As a matter of fact if played in the right way he could be terrifically dangerous, even uncannily so.)
There are then other ways to make monsters dangerous, when and where appropriate. One such is to make monsters dangerous psychologically (both in a general sense, and directly to the psyches of individual heroes). Another is to make them uncanny (in the sense I implied in the original post, but one need not limit uncanny to just my thread-sense of the definition of uncanny), so that close proximity is a threat in and of itself. Another is to make them dangerous by being unpredictable, and therefore it is difficult to develop effective tactical and strategic preparations against them. (An extension of unpredictability is to assure the players do not know exact dispositions and statistical information on given monsters.) Another by being Un-Holy (as you suggested) and all that implies. Another by being unique (not every eye stalk of a Beholder does the same things as the eye-stalks of a different Beholder), and therefore prepared Intel is difficult to gain or develop, and information is sparse, confused, or incorrect. Another is to make monsters intelligent and shrewd, so that they have well developed strategic and tactical capabilities and plans of their own. In that way they have employed others to fight, have raised armies, have set traps, misdirected their enemies, and so forth and so on. These other methods (and I've just named some of them) are more strategic than tactical, though they also require clever and flexible tactics in order to execute a viable and effective overall strategy, which you also usually have to devise along the way, maybe in an entirely ad hoc fashion. (In my opinion though, the very best way to employ and play monsters is as composite beings, as much as is appropriate and necessary for the particular creature in question. That is, as much as befits the particular monster, do not make the monster merely physically dangerous, or merely psychologically dangerous, but make them dangerous in as many different ways as possible. For instance, as an example, when playing a Rakshasa you make that monster physically dangerous, and magically dangerous, and psychologically dangerous, and intellectually dangerous, and uniquely dangerous, uncannily dangerous, and unpredictably dangerous. By making monsters dangerous in more than one way, you make them truly and even viciously dangerous. That idea goes beyond just the scope of the original post, of course,
and is something I intend to expound upon in another thread about monsters called What Makes Monsters Truly Dangerous?, but I think it related enough to my general position to mention here in passing.)
But your overall observation is true. The blood or remains of uncanny monsters would be dangerous to close order combatants, or to anyone else near them. Then again that is what adaptation and cleverness and guile and craft is all about. When Perseus slew Medusa he didn't follow a normative pattern of rush in, see monster, have big bloody fight, kill monster. He faced a dangerous tactical and psychological and supernatural challenge and he adapted himself to the satiation. Any problem can be overcome with the proper and the clever application of available tools and technology (and magic - in fantasy realms) and strategy. The Medusa was extremely dangerous, and Perseus nevertheless overcame her using the proper strategy, and implements. Herakles overcame the Hydra. But certainly not by brute force alone, (alone brute force would have assured his defeat, not the monster's defeat) though he used brute force as one pincer of his overall method of attack. Perseus cut off the Medusa's head, and that was force application as well, but it was certainly not force that placed him in a position to kill her, that was craft and shrewdness and preparation.
So if you have a monster in whom you can gain some preliminary Intel, then you can prepare an effective strategy (and new defensive measures as well), adapting to the dangers to which you find yourself exposed. Of course you cannot overcome those dangers if you attack the Medusa in the same way you would attack a goblin. Then again in this sense a goblin is not truly uncanny, the Medusa is. Rushing into Melee does not mean though that you need approach every single instance of melee in the same manner (by the same tactical methods), or with the same strategic objective. If my players suspect a really dangerous and uncanny monster, they adapt methods. Or devise new ones. Both to survive, and to be effective. They change their "Danger and Risk stance." For instance in fighting a drunken brigand, someone who could kill you given the right set of circumstances, one would take one kind of danger and risk stance based on a realistic assessment of the possibilities, the inherent dangers, what you think your opponent could do, and so forth. The opponent projects a certain kind of danger, a certain level and type of threat. Facing a manticore on the other hand is an entirely different tactical proposition implying entirely different risks and dangers. However if the manticore is lowered to merely the level of a dozen brigands, because his only real threat as a monster is of being a combat threat, then to me he is no monster at all, other than in the sense of being "big." He becomes nothing more less than a "big combat threat," and large in size. His monstrosity is reduced entirely to "
dangerous fighting squad dressed in fur, bat-wings, and a rubber face." For ammunition he throws iron spikes, not lead rounds or spent uranium. And that is, unfortunately, about the entire extent of his dangerousness and his
"monstrosity" within the parameters of far too many game design structures.
The point is generally speaking that every form of experimentation and alteration (and especially improvement) to a given set of operating parameters leads to new capabilities, and correspondingly to a new set of problems which must be necessarily balanced or mitigated by additional new methodologies. For instance the invention of the jet engine (and plane) provided many new opportunities in aircraft and travel capabilities. The demands of the jet engine however superceded the outmoded fuselage and wing capabilities of the older style aircraft body designs. Was the solution then to abandon the much better jet engine because the previous superstructure designs were unable to cope with new performance demands? No, the answer was to design new aircraft frames which could handle the additional G-force and maneuvering demands placed upon the aircraft by much improved power plants.
Is the answer then to the more dangerous in-game monster to say, the problems are insurmountable or will lead to this or that particular difficultly? By very fact of existence the far more dangerous monster will definitely and certainly lead to new problems and risks and threat levels (in a whole host of ways) and will of course require new methods of addressing these higher demand requirements. Far more clever methods of risk mitigation and problem solving on the part of both player and DM. But then again that is the way progress is made, and also what problem solving is all about, which to me is a large and natural part of the purpose of role play gaming. We play for enjoyment, of course, but also to solve problems. All of life (real, virtual, internal, external, and even imaginary) is, to one extent or another, problem solving. The bigger, the more imposing, the more dangerous the problem to be faced, the more rewarding (generally speaking) it is when we can devise a clever, workable, functional, efficient, and real solution. Truly dangerous monsters, in-game, require both DMs and players to employ their own problem solving prowess to a far greater degree than is the case with mere mediocre monsters. Just as a truly dangerous, crafty, and clever NPC is far more a problem to overcome than an impotent lackey. That is after all the very point of being dangerous. And monsters should be dangerous. If they are not then they aren't really monsters, they are more like automated and inanimate machines dressed in weird costumes.
Well, I'll take up some of the other points later. I'm trying to hit and respond to one thing at a time, as I can. Right now though I've got to get back to work. Outta time, but enjoyed the exchange.
See ya.
