Monster Of The Week: Merfolk and Merrow

An Aquatic Metropolis and The Madness of the Demogorgon

The Merfolk and their adjacent creatures, like Sirens and Deep Scions, are often forgotten at most tables.  Pirates campaigns or the rare voyage across a fog-covered sea might bring them to bear, but the lore and construction of these creatures are, at least in my experience, rarely explored.  
  And that's why we're here today, dear readers, for a brief look at the link between two very underused civilizations.

First, we zoom in, beneath the depths of the crashing waves, below the shades of bellowing voices and past the false eyes we conjure in our minds; beyond this veil rests a world entirely its own.
  It begins with spires of coral and luminescent, volcanic rock.  It gives way to a sprawling metropolis; an underwater civilization of numerous tribes and castes.  Crab-like smiths forge in steam and bubbles, while a siren bard sings upon a stage; a consort of the queen rides in on a seahorse of rainbow while a tailor shows off their latest in seashell fashion.  It is a whimsical, Aquamandian-acid trip of glorious wonder.  A fantastic opportunity to cultivate rare knowledge, materials, and metals forged in the deep pressures of the depths.  And for all this joy, every Merfolk knows the stories - heeds the warning; "Do not heed The Call of The Deep."

For when a tribe of these curious Merfolk wandered too far from their beacons, they came upon an idol of the Demogorgon, the resulting curse and blood sacrifice twisted them into the beloved Merrow that we know today (The rift into the Abyss probably didn't help either).  Violent creatures who hunt and mark their territory with the corpses of their prey, linked together by net and kelp.

A Contrast Of Numbers

Merfolk are aquatic civilians.  Though culturally vibrant and wholly flexible, on paper these are non-threatening individuals.  (remember, an army of squirrels is still an army, so don't pick a fight with an entire civilization)  They're a little faster, a little hardier, and just a tad more charismatic than the average bear, and those that fight carry a spear without finesse.  With an AC just a little over a land-lubber (10-11) and the HP of maybe two clerics, a stiff breeze and an acid splash will do one in.
...
They're completely not a threat...because they're not meant to be.  This is basically a society of water-breathing commoners with tails; they're adorable.  There's no reason to murder-fy them.  They'd be more inclined to help you than hurt you, and they're inherently good-natured or at least true neutral.  Go for it, Charisma builds!

Merrow on the other fin...would happily stab you in the face for the gold on your belt.  You can thank the Demogorgon for that shift in temperament, and for their major boost in stats.
  The standard Merrow is packing natural sub-dermal plating with reinforced scales (AC 13-15), loads more Hit Points (at least 6d10 worth), Darkvision from the demon lord, and two attacks.  Blessed with a nasty bite and claw combo, a smart DM would make use of their Harpoon attack.  Doing the damage of a greatsword (coupled with a superior strength bonus), anything Huge or smaller enters into a strength contest to not be pulled up to 20 feet closer to the Merrow.  Since these things attack in packs, and most Player-Characters suck wind underwater, I can bet a winning strategy in the wild would be harpoon a few heroes and drag them down under.  Homefield "Advantage" will either drown those hapless heroes or riddle them with fishing holes.  Just sayin'.  
  Instead of meeting the Merrow in the field and risking a watery grave, instead take advantage of weaker mental attributes.  For all that they flaunt in Strength and Constitution, they lose in Dexterity and Wisdom (usually +0), and fail in Intelligence and Charisma (usually in the negative).  So...go for it, blasters!

The Mystery Of The Depths

In Ionian folklore, tales of the Merrow are well-known among sailors.  The spun songs of shipwrecked crews failed to rescue, only to be speared from behind and dragged to the murky depths below.  Young lasses dangling trinkets over the side, only to be snatched from sight in one errant splash.  "Caution be to the depth of three, ye Siren, yo Kraken, and da Merrow of de sea."
  And yet, for every tale of salt and blood, once in a long while there stems a different tale.  Like that of Alexander Gush, a deckhand hurled overboard when the fabled Wingsong's Blade clashed with the kraken lord Ukathane.  The poor boy was thought dead, but washed ashore three days later off the coast of Glaz Dukot, not a scratch on him.  He was full of stories and hope and light, of crystal cities and blue-skinned guards, and a very kind princess with a crown of living coral named "Kalvira."
  Where light and hope shine, they cast shadows, and the entwined lore of the Merfolk and the Merrow help spin dichotomous tales and the lure of the depths.  Some believe that when Merfolk travel beyond the bounds of the known ocean, into the dark places of their world and their minds, the Call of the Deep is what twists them, and what comes out of that dark is a pale horse of death.  Death to the kingdoms of coral and light, death to the known and the lords of the shallows, death by trident of bone and mire.  
  And isn't that fun?

This post is simply your reminder that Water Breathing isn't that hard to get a hold of.
See you at the table.
-Adamus