INT. WIZARDS OF THE COAST CONFERENCE ROOM – DAY

A group of DESIGNERS sit around a table covered in monster sketches and stat blocks. Coffee cups everywhere.

DESIGNER 1
Okay, let’s just check in. The Aboleth is looking good, I think the Tarrasque is ready to go. Vecna still needs some tweaks, but we’ve got time.

DESIGNER 2
(flipping through notes)
I think we’ve got most of the heavy-hitters done. Still need to flesh out the Undead – pun intended – and there was talk of doing some more Elementals, but we can cover that next time. Any other business?

DESIGNER 3
(raises his hand)
Seahorses.

The other DESIGNERS can barely conceal their groans and eye-rolls.

DESIGNER 1
Bob, we’ve talked about this. There’s no reason to-

DESIGNER 3 (BOB)
(pounds the table)
Seahorses!

DESIGNER 2
Bob, they’ve got 1 HP, no attacks, and a swim speed. That’s it! What DM in their right mind is going to need a Seahorse stat block?

BOB
(pulls out a binder, thick with pages)
I’m glad you asked. Strap in, kids….

DESIGNERS 1 and 2 exchange defeated looks and reach for their coffees….

---

Now I can’t say this is definitely how the Seahorse got included in the Monster Manual, but the fact of its inclusion at all brings up a lot of questions. The chief one being; Why?

There’s a lot of reasons for it, of course – maybe someone from Wizards will one day read this and confirm for us. For me, though, as a creative person, I think the sheer momentum of completionism is probably as good a reason as any.

When you’re building a world like Faerun or Greyhawk or Eberron, there is the temptation to catalogue everything. The big creatures and the small ones all deserve a place at the table, even if they’re not world-smashers or Big Bad Evil Guys. And even if they’re not destined for a combat encounter, establishing these creatures brings life to your world.

As we’ve already seen with the Frog and the Deer, for example, it’s possible to take a harmless creature and endow it with meaning – something that might not happen if you don’t put it in the Monster Manual for someone like me to look at and think, What do I do with this thing?

And we can use this to explore the essential principle of the Monster Manual: if it has a stat, someone, somewhere will use it in their game.

So let’s think about that: now that we have a Seahorse to play with, what can we do with it?

This creature is actually a great example of how much the Monster Manual can leave up to the DM, because one thing you will not be doing is fighting with it. The most interesting thing it can do is get away without opportunity attacks. Other than that, it is no threat to your Party. And honestly, if a Seahorse never appears in your game, no one is likely to miss it.

That doesn’t mean we can’t make it important, though. A little creative thinking, and you may soon find that your delicate little Seahorse has a central place in your game.

For example, if you’re running an underwater campaign, a Seahorse would make an ideal infiltrator. They’re tiny and unassuming – who’s going to be suspicious of a Seahorse for Mystra’s sake?

If you have a Druid, then, Wild Shaping into a Seahorse will allow them to explore the tiniest of paths and hide in small spaces to peer into that enemy Merfolk base or to track the pod of Merrow that are threatening a small seaside town. Even if you’re not running a seaside adventure, your Players might still become a Seahorse in order to travel through plumbing or sewer pipes, finding their way into the manor house or bandit lair that they’re trying to deal with.

A Player who can cast Speak With Animals can use Seahorses as sources of intel. Not great ones, of course – these guys have an Intelligence of 1, which means it’s pretty much running on instinct – but even so, they might be able to get some useful information from them. Perhaps they noticed something in the movements of marine life or the shifting of currents that could lead the Party to a planar rift or an elemental incursion in the seas.

One point to consider is that perhaps the fragility of the Seahorse is the challenge. Because the creature is so delicate, it becomes the ultimate test. Somewhere there is a prophecy that must be fulfilled, and the only way to do so is to escort this tiny, delicate, extremely killable creature through a violent and dangerous ocean to the temple. Keeping it alive against the onslaught of sharks and squids, Marids and Sahuagin, storms and squalls will be your Party’s job.

Or – and here’s where Bob’s presentation got really interesting – maybe you flip the whole thing on its head. Maybe this Seahorse is the most dangerous thing in the ocean.

Picture it: a magical disease is sweeping the shallow seas, killing off the ecosystems that support not only the fish but the people who make a living from them. Sea creatures are washing up on the shore, blackened and bloated by a terrible curse that possesses one of the smallest and most innocuous of creatures.

Find the Seahorse, save the world.

It might be possessed by an ancient spirit that is looking for a proper host – a Kraken or a Leviathan that will be a suitable container for its magnificence. But unfortunately, for the moment, it occupies this tiny, ridiculous body.

Or maybe the Seahorse in your game is the phylactery for your Lich. An immortal, undying Seahorse that just cruises around the seas, holding that sliver of the Lich’s soul in the off chance that a bunch of Adventurers should slay them. Want to stop Pheznerek the Undying from coming back again? Find one Seahorse in all the vast seas and you’ll be all set.

The Seahorse is definitely an unexpected inclusion in the Monster Manual, but it really shows the potential of a game like D&D. It asks you to use your imagination, look past the stat block and give the creature significance that is unique to your table.

And if you can make a simple Seahorse the center of your imaginary world, imagine what else you could do….