Hellhound, Nessian Warhound

The hellhound is indeed one of the most iconic creatures of classic fantasy tabletops. As one of the oldest creatures in the game—both in the sense of the idiom and literally—this fiendish foe comes in two varieties; the classic Hellhound for that early-level punch and the Nessian Warhound for a reminder later on that the forces of the evil aren't messing around.

The hellhound at level 3 makes a wonderful minion to some greater threats between party levels 2 and 5. It remains threatening throughout, as its go-to jaw attack does an extreme amount of damage for its level—assuming the target is good-aligned, of course. Though it's a simple creature, it does exactly as it needs—especially when working in packs. Any fire breath that is used in combat has the potential to recharge allied fire breaths. A potent combination.

The Nessian Warhound operates in this same space, only at level 9 with the added nastiness that it can use a reaction to recharge its own breath weapon if you hit it too hard.

These two creatures are indeed Hell's Best Friend. Consider including them when you want to hint at more nefarious forces at play within your world. Also, consider what you could do to easily modify the statblock to make it more horrifying! Make them explode on death! Make a death hound that does negative damage instead of fire! Make Cerberus and cross the Hydra with the Nessian Warhound!

The game is yours. Give them hell.

- Reece

Hook 1 (Max) - The Nighthound

The local baron is very proud of his hound, naming it as the reason his hunts always go without issue—no prey can escape him. To his credit, it is most likely true. Every single one of his ancestors has had an animal like this; some theorize that the family is blessed by the spirit of a great hunter who watches over them and takes the form of the creature that aids them.

This beast appears to be a large wolf, its fur is black as coal and its eyes are cold pupilless white orbs. Unusual, no doubt, but nothing that should make people wary.

What should scare them, however, is the fact that in the darkness of night, shadows in the shape of a hound stalk both the castle and the outlying town. Where these shadows lurk, bodies are often found in the early morning hours after it's been spotted, seeming as if attacked by a large dog. Stranger still, these corpses are not only torn apart, they are also singed or terribly burned as if someone wished to hide the evidence of the killing.

Hook 2 (Nemanja) - The Beasts of Mochmor

The warlock-kings of the secluded orkish kingdom of Mochmor have been hunting alongside a pack of blood-haired hyenas for as long as anyone can remember.

In truth, it is not the hyenas who serve the warlocks, rather it is the reverse. The fiendish predators have a reputation for hunting down aasimars on the material plane. This, of course, is achieved by pointing their vassal kingdom in the direction of any single target they deem worthy. They raid and even declare wars without regard, all to score a singular kill against their most hated foes.

Hook 3 (TJ) - Can We Keep Him?

"Look Daddy, a puppy!"

Griswold turned to look in the direction his son was indicating. Sure enough, there was a small canine in the alley to their right. And it was smoking. Smoldering, even. Oh, dear gods. He rushed to it as it limped out of the alleyway. Had someone tortured this poor little dog? He went to pick it up and almost immediately dropped it, his hands singed. The dog—or maybe creature—was hot to the touch, though it didn't seem to be damaged save for the limp. The small pup looked up at him and Griswold froze. Its eyes were like burning coals. It licked him in his stunned state and his skin charred where its tongue passed.

"Back away, son, it isn't safe!"

But Luka didn't listen. He outstretched his arms for the small dog and it lept into them. Immediately, the boy's clothes began to scorch, small burn holes pocking the new outfit. His husband wasn't going to like this. He turned back to his father with wide eyes, oblivious to his now-smoking clothes. Before he could utter a word to drop the thing, Griswold already knew what was coming next. His husband wasn't going to like this either.

"Please, Dad, can we keep him?"

Still shocked, words fled his mind as he rushed over to Luka to tear the dog away from him. His clothes were already thoroughly burned.

His skin was not.