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How Dungeons & Dragons set the rules for killer unicorns

How Dungeons & Dragons set the rules for killer unicorns

[html]The mythical unicorn was goring adventurers long before Death Of A Unicorn, from its earliest days up through its inclusion in D&D.
     

In Death Of A Unicorn, Paul Rudd and Jenna Ortega find themselves facing a deadly mythological creature. They’re not battling a dragon, troll, the Loch Ness Monster, or some other terrifying beast. Instead, the pair try to avoid ending up on the wrong end of a vengeful unicorn’s horn. That a unicorn could be a vicious killer seems like a subversion of expectations for a creature more typically associated with purity, innocence, Jesus Christ, and My Little Pony. But unicorns have a long history of killing and being killed—just look at Dungeons & Dragons, which, nearly 50 years ago, codified exactly what deadly tools a unicorn has at its disposal. 


After Rudd’s Elliot Kintner accidentally runs over a foal while driving to his billionaire boss’ mountain estate, the film takes one of the iconic fantasy creatures and makes it a killer in a co*edy-horror. Elliot’s boss (Richard E. Grant) wants to harness the magical healing powers in the dead unicorn’s blood. Elliot’s daughter Ridley (Ortega) thinks it’s a bad idea, and she puts her art history degree to use trying to research these not-so-mythological creatures. The mom and dad unicorns, meanwhile, want to brutally impale, trample, and maul those responsible for their child’s death.


Ridley doesn’t crack open a copy of the Monster Manual, D&D‘s encyclopedia of creatures and foes that Dungeon Masters can pit against their players, but she would’ve found one to be helpful in her unicorn-fighting research. (Wizards Of The Coast, which owns D&D, had no involvement in the A24 movie.)


“The unicorn is actually one of the few monsters that appears on the cover of the original Monster Manual,” D&D‘s lead rules designer Jeremy Crawford tells The A.V. Club—and indeed there is one on the front of the 1977 tome, next to a centaur as a dragon flies overhead. Back in D&D‘s early days, it was a much deadlier game for players than the more story-focused version it has evolved into, and unicorns were potentially friendly allies that could help a party in need. Even then, the Monster Manual described them as “fierce but good creatures” with immunity to poison, the ability to sense enemies from 24 feet out, and a charging horn and hooves attack.


Crawford says D&D‘s unicorns got even more fighting abilities starting with the game’s 3rd Edition about 20 years ago. “There was this feeling that if something appears in a monster book, even if most of the time it’s going to be your friend, it should also be something that there is the potential for you to fight,” Crawford explains. “And so it was around a few decades ago where a lot of the friendly monsters started also getting dangerous, and you can see that evolution in our brand-new Monster Manual that just came out, where the unicorn not only keeps getting new abilities to help you, but also new ways to kill you.”


The unicorn in the newest Monster Manual, released in February 2025, has a charging horn attack that deals radiant damage, immunity to a host of conditions, and the ability to make a magical shield. Even the art has an imposing horn, like a “curved saber,” that Crawford says would make dragons or ogres “think twice about going up against it.” Though typically good, a DM could choose to have an evil one in their game, or perhaps a unicorn with a good reason to attack the party—like defending an enchanted forest, for instance. There are plenty of reasons why a unicorn might need to throw hands…or horns. 


D&D may have made unicorns’ offensive capabilities explicit via game mechanics, but the myths and legends going back thousands of years that inspired Death Of A Unicorn writer-director Alex Scharfman to make this “modern creature feature,” as he called it during a post-screening Q&A, featured unicorns that had some fight in them. The earliest records of unicorns by a Greek historian in 400 BCE were likely a reference to an Indian rhinoceros—perhaps not a bloodthirsty creature, but a formidable one. Re’em, the Bible’s unicorns, were ox-like and ferocious. The Unicorn Tapestries, seven famous tapestries from the 16th century that currently hang in New York City’s Met Cloisters and feature prominently in Death Of A Unicorn, depict a unicorn kicking a man and goring a hunting dog with its horn in one of the tapestries. The film then embellishes—and bloodies—art history in one scene where it shows a “recreation” of the fifth, inco*plete tapestry that’s much more overtly gory and co*ical than any of the real artworks.


Death Of A Unicorn‘s more extreme killer horses follow in the subversive mold of a memorable moment in Cabin In The Woods where a beautiful unicorn stands out amongst the many classical horror monsters, but is no less deadly, impaling somebody on its horn. In fact, Crawford says that the D&D unicorn’s new charge ability was partially inspired by the 2011 film. The maligned Shazam sequel portrayed unicorns as the deadliest of all monsters, and TV Tropes has an entire page of examples of “Fierce Unicorns.” But to Crawford, these violent depictions of unicorns are more than just a subversive, cheap gag. 


“This is a natural part of any culture. Over time you’ll have something that’s viewed as a traditional good and, if it goes on long enough, there starts being that self-criticism. ‘Well, is that thing actually good?'” Crawford says. “You see that reflected in mythology, where the creatures get interrogated, and they start reflecting our own doubts about our own history. Since everything is being questioned, even the good creature is now being questioned. ‘Is it good, or did we just accept that it was good because someone told us it was good?'”


For a horror co*edy, Death Of A Unicorn is a pretty thorough investigation of this question. Although the carnage they can unleash puts a grizzly bear to shame, the film’s unicorns are not just beasts; they have nobility, reason, and, yes, a soft spot for fair maidens. The fun might co*e from seeing unicorns rack up a body count, but Ridley’s art history research reveals a more co*plicated creature than the innocent icon of popular culture. Neither mindless monsters nor sweet pushovers, these unicorns are born from questioning the traditional lore—something the movie’s ultra-rich pharmaceutical execs should’ve considered before harvesting a dead baby unicorn for profit.


It’s perhaps worth noting that Death Of A Unicorn‘s titular dead unicorn is a baby, and there is no entry for a baby unicorn in the new Monster Manual. However, Crawford says that’s not because the D&D team was too chicken to write a killable baby unicorn into the rules.


“We actually had one in the new Monster Manual. We even had a piece of art for it,” he explains. “We cut it simply because we ran out of room in the book. But no, we were ready for people to be fighting baby unicorns.”

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