How would you feel about your 5 year-old child riding your Pyrenees around the neighborhood? I mean, with the largest of the breed weighing in at 160 pounds, sure, the dog could probably tolerate your 40-45 pound child climbing onto its back for a minute or two while you nervously glance over your shoulder to make sure nobody is calling the ASPCA. But, like, your child isn’t going to ride your Pyrenees into battle or on a ranging or anything like that, right? That would be absurd.

I feel the same way about goblins using wolves as mounts.

Rat Keepers and Wolf Riders. Goblins have an affinity for rats and wolves, raising them to serve as companions and mounts, respectively. Like rats, goblins shun sunlight and sleep underground during the day. Like wolves, they are pack hunters, made bolder by their numbers. When they hunt from the backs of wolves, goblins use hit-and-run attacks.

Since I spent yesterday messing around with the Goblin Ambush and the Goblin Trail encounters, I figure I’ll just keep going and recommend even more changes. Like, swapping out those wolves in the Kennel (Area 3) of Cragmaw Hideout for boars instead.

Yes, boars. They’re heavier than wolves. More suitable as mounts for saddling. They’re black-tempered, fierce, and fight to the death. Put a dead body in front of a boar and give it enough time, it will eat everything but the teeth. Really. Just gnarly.

And, in a world where knights sit atop war horses and armies have cavalries, they’re more likely to be underestimated. “Ohh, la-dee-dah. Goblins. Riding pigs! I’m shaking in my boots. Arise Baconators! Ride! Ride on ye Pork Lords!”

Anyone who carries a sword – from the lowliest caravan guard to the snootiest knight – would probably laugh at tales of pig-riding goblins when they’re having a drink. There would be no shortage of bacon-related humor at that table.

But when two or three boar-mounted goblins come crashing out of a thicket with their mounts squealing at the highest frequency, tearing low-level characters open from navel to nipples like Robert Baratheon after a couple of skins of sour Dornish red? Yes, please. Let’s make something that seems funny into something suddenly terrifying.

A charging boar does 2d6 damage on a successful hit, and knocks its target on its ass if the target fails its Strength saving throw. With its relentless trait, if you kill a boar once, you might just have to kill it again. And mind you, we haven’t even gotten to the goblin on its back, using a wooden spear with a fire-hardened point as a lance trying to stick you with the pointy end.

Of course, you’ll need to bone up on the rules for Mounted Combat, but that’s not a bad thing. As Dungeon Master’s, we should always be looking for opportunities to make combats more dynamic and less predictable. Why not give it a try with pig-riding goblins?

A pair of Pork Lords could give a low-level party a very challenging encounter. And a pig roast afterward! And endless bacon jokes.

If you’d like to support my work, please consider downloading my latest title on the Dungeon Master’s Guild, Between The High Road & The Long Road. All of my titles on Dungeon Master’s Guild are free/PWYW. Thanks for reading!