Nobody likes the bouncer.
Even when your name’s on the list he’s a figure of menace, because
there’s always the chance that there’s been some miscommunication and you’ll
get turned away. (I didn’t even like the
bouncer when I was the bouncer—I’m
thinking of one Run-DMC show in particular.)
Or take St. Peter.
When you think of him, do you think of the most human of Jesus’s
apostles, the most fallible, the most relatable, the one most like us? Nope, you think of the cartoon guy at the
Pearly Gates—the one who’s probably not going to let you in.
All of which is to say that, despite their lawful good
alignment, gate archons are going to give your PCs plenty of reasons to pick fights with them. To adventurers, doors are meant to be opened,
bars are meant to be bent, and gates are meant to be crashed. When the greater good is at stake, you can
bet they’ll be willing to thrash the lawful good archon in their way.
Or at least, they’ll try.
At CR 17, the gate archon can more than thrash right back.
When the High Templar
was slain atop the Altar of Light, the holy city of Nashon fell around
him. Towers fell, black mold grew over
white marble, and the trees wept blood.
And in the High Temple itself, the gate archon who stood in the north
transept become a devil of anguish and rage.
Breaking into
Heaven’s First Precinct was easy.
Breaking out will be the hard part.
Psychopomp clerks detected the party’s intrusion into the Hourglass
Aviary, and now a gate archon bars their way back to the land of the
living. The price of Paradise, it
appears, is a permanent residency.
Famous gate archons
include Atimixus, the quetzalcoatlus-winged archon whose statue guards the gate
to the realm of lightning dragons; Evinen’shen, who loves the little liminal sprites
and looks after them despite their chaotic fey natures; the Keeper of Autumn;
and an unnamed archon who bravely bars one of the otherwise-accurately-named
Seven Demon Doors.
—Pathfinder Bestiary 5
35
There was one doorman everybody
liked—so much so that a D.C. blog once suggested dressing up as him in a list
of D.C.-themed Halloween costume ideas. His death has left a hole in the hearts of a
number of people close to me, and he is profoundly missed.
Yesterday’s post stirred up quite a lot of Tumblr comments,
which I honestly wasn’t expecting. I had
meant to mention that gancanaghs were friendly with leprechauns, but by the
time I sat down to write the post I was tired and plum forgot; fortunately
filbypott didn’t. (Blogger
readers, tired-me also forgot to attach the picture so a link is in your comments as well.) And
demiurge1138 and others dove into the various male rapist/seducer figures in
myth and how they’re perceived in the game.
For the record, demi, I’m going to go with your Narnia theory. Gygax was a huge reader, famously
recommending a number of books in Appendix N of the 1e Dungeon Master’s Guide.
While Narnia isn’t on that particular list I think there’s no question
that Lewis’s wise woodsmen centaurs provided the template for Gygax’s. And as we’ve talked about before, Gygax’s shadow
over the hobby is (understandably) pretty long—so that the tiniest
idiosyncrasies in the 1e Monster Manual
tend to be with us even today. That
wagon left some deep ruts.
For the record, apparently in the 5e Player’s Handbook there’s a new list, which I just discovered
courtesy of this post. I’ve got some
quibbles here and there, but good for them for expanding the canon!
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