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| A morlock swineherd takes his hogs to market. Soooeeee! |
Alignment: Neutral
Movement: 60 (20)
Armor Class: 7
Hit dice: 3
Attacks: Bite
Damage: 1d8
Save: D2
Morale: 7
Hoard: None
Dungeon hogs are a vile breed of swine raised in the underlands by all manner of subterranean races as a food source when more delectable adventurers and other surface meat isn't available. They are ill tempered and vicious, immune to poisons of all kinds, and can digest almost anything, even bones, wood, or metal. It is a well known fact that anything that winds up in their slop troughs will be completely irretrievable before long, and thus the pens of dungeon hogs are said to be good places to bury things you don't want dug up eventually. (There is one apocryphal tale of a green slime infestation overtaking a goblin swineherd's pen. There is much dispute between tellers of this tale as to whether the slimes were digesting the hogs or vice versa.)
These creatures appear as massive, hideous pigs with an overall greenish tint to their tissues. Their eyes gleam red with a feral intensity belied by their utter stupidity. They develop bioluminescent nodules in random patterns across their skin, which make them easy to keep track of in the deep darks.
Occasionally a dungeon hog will break out of its enclosure and wander about the tunnels and caves making a dangerous nuisance of themselves. Adventurers would be well advised to give these creatures a wide berth, and under no circumstances should you feed them if you want to keep all of your appendages.
The meat of a dungeon hog is greasy but flavorful, and if properly roasted, salted, or smoked it's almost certainly safe for surface dwellers to consume.
Almost certainly.
Sir Guy looked dubiously at the morlock pitmaster, who smiled at him with a jagged mouthful of filed teeth, then back at the "sandwich" of greenish pulled pork smothered in a pungent sauce of unknown provenance between two thick slices of black fungus bread. He shrugged, then hunched his shoulders and took a big bite.
The morlock rubbed his pasty hands together expectantly, his scarlet eyes lighting up. "Well? What does the surface man think? It is choicest meat not on two legs, raised from squealer in my own pens on nothing but lichen and kobolds."
The questing gastronome gave his host a sidelong glance and a smile. "Mmm. Verily, 'tis gold pieces."
Bon Appetit.
These monsters are hereby designated as Open Game Content via the Open Game License.
