The Two Headed Dog, Orthrus.
My earliest recollections of reading Fantasy-type literature is that of ancient myths and legends, particularly the legends of Ancient Greece. Even then, the basic myths, the common stories found in collections and kids books were pretty wild, the Minotaur, Medusa, Hercules and his 12 labours. But peel the layers back and look closer at these and others, and wild becomes stark, raving bonkers!
When they weren’t crossing animals with others, or animals with humans, the Ancient Greeks seemed to have a fascination with sticking extra heads on everything. We’ve all heard of the 7 headed Hydra who looked over the golden fleece, and Cerberus the three headed dog who guarded the gates of Hell. But I’ll wager Orthrus is a name known only to die hard Greek Mythologists and Rick Riordan.
Sired by the monster Titans, Echidna and Typhon, he was the brother of Cerberus. One less head though.
Unlike the pitiful experiments by the soviet scientist Demikhov in the 1950s, Orthrus was a nasty one, a vicious guard dog for the herder Eurytion, who looked after the cattle of the giant called Geryon.
As one of his 12 labours, Hercules was sent to steal these cattle for King Eurystheus.
Crossing the Mediterranean Sea in a golden cup – yes, you read that right – Hercules, or Heracles as we can call him now we have used the trio above, reached the island of Erytheia. There he met Orthrus and Eurtion. Nasty as the two headed hound was, it was no match for a demigod. Heracles killed it with one blow then dispatched the herder the same way.
Heracles is a demigod, son of Zeus but he is also like one of those annoying D&D characters that foil the DMs planned adventures with ease. Two swipes, 2 critical hits and the DM is foiled. Throwing all his cards on the table, the DM drops in the giant, Geryon.
Remember the bit about sticking extra heads on everything? Geryon the Giant had three heads. He carried three shields and three spears as well, so he could have been three blokes but, you know… Myth! (or Meth ?)
Faced with this, Heracles drops his club and takes up his bow. As accurate as Robin Hood, backed with the strength of Dwayne Johnson, he drops the giant with one shot. Lucky? Nope, Heracles is into bio weapons, having dipped his arrows into the poisonous blood of the Hydra that he had despatched several years earlier.
Plot hole looming – how did it stay so poisonous after so many years? One word again – Myth.
On a final note, the DM, in the guise of a mighty pissed off Hera, waits until Heracles has crossed the Med with his rustled cattle, then attacks them with a gadfly, sending them wild and dispersing them over the countryside. It takes the scenario-wrecking demigod a year to catch them and get them back under control before he can head back to Greece and King Eurystheus.
The Greek Myths*, proof that wacky fantasy has been written since the dawn of time. Hopefully, also an inspiration to many more authors-to-be for years to come. (* other Myths are available and will definitely prove as fantastic as those of the Ancient Greeks.)