Mimics 5e: Stats and Guide for Players & DMs

Last Updated on November 3, 2023

“Sometimes a chest is just a chest, but don’t bet on it.” — Anonymous 

Welcome to Black Citadel’s Guide to Mimics. Open the door and step through…  Ha Hah! The door was a mimic. Roll for initiative. 

What Are Mimics in D&D 5e? 

Mimics are shapeshifting predators that lurk in dungeons and take on the form of enticing inanimate objects like treasure chests or doors. When an unsuspecting adventurer comes too close to the “treasure,” the mimic reveals itself by grappling them with its sticky tongue, pulls them in close with its powerful pseudopods, and devours them with a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth. 

Mimics are among the most iconic, loved, loathed, and feared creatures in Dungeons & Dragons. 

These shapeshifting instruments of the dungeon master’s cruelty have been making players paranoid since their first appearance in Gary Gygax’s original Monster Manual published in 1977. 

Today, they’re just as beloved by dungeon masters everywhere looking to teach their players that while sometimes a chest is just a chest, you shouldn’t bet your life on it. 

Thought to have been created long ago by powerful wizards as treasure guardians, mimics are now an endemic invasive species found throughout the multiverse. 

They make their homes in treasure vaults, caves, dungeons, mines — in short, just about anywhere away from the sun. 

Over the generations, they have also learned to take on the shapes of different objects that their prey are likely to come into contact with.

Treasure chests are the classic option, but doors, tables, chairs, hat stands, desks, drinks, globes, weapons, bottles, barrels, or just about anything else you can imagine could potentially be a mimic. 

When it changes into its “true” shape, a mimic becomes coated in a naturally occurring layer of adhesive that helps it seize prey and weapons that touch it.

Mimics have no language, culture, or religion, but some of them are intelligent enough to negotiate. 

Unfortunately, finding out which kind of mimic you’ve run into is often as much of a nasty surprise as finding the mimic in the first place.

A Player’s Guide To Surviving a Mimic 

• Be prepared 
• Keep your distance 
• Bring something to barter with

By far the best way to prevent becoming a mimic’s next meal is to spot the creature before you get too close. Despite having darkvision up to 60 feet, mimics have a relatively low Passive Perception (11) and move slower than a drunken flail snail going up some stairs. 

Remember: the mimic itself might be indistinguishable from the environment, but there should still be contextual clues to its presence. 

Keep an eye out for suspiciously unguarded chests, doors surrounded by fresh blood spatter, areas of the dungeon that its other occupants like to avoid, etc. 

Precautions Against Mimics:

A 10-foot pole (a spear or pike will also do just fine) jabbed at every door you go through is a perfectly reasonable safety precaution while adventuring.

Shooting a crossbow, sling, or damage cantrip into every suspicious piece of furniture you come across. If the chaise lounge says “ow!”, shoot it again. 

The goal is to force the mimic to reveal itself while you’re out of range, then keep it out of range while you whittle it down with ranged attacks. It moves at half the speed of most humanoids, so keeping it at least at arm’s length shouldn’t be too challenging. 

Options Beyond Fighting a Mimic

Feed it:  As the owner of a completely food-oriented cat, I can comfortably say that waving a piece of raw chicken around in front of a pretty stupid animal should be enough to get its attention. 

Mimics, being about as intelligent as my very stupid fuzzy boy, have about a 50:50 shot at figuring out that a free meal is a better deal than trying to fight a whole adventuring party. 

Talk to it?  Some mimics, according to the Monster Manual, can even carry on a conversation in common or undercommon, and though they’ll be far from fluent, waggling a nice juicy steak and shouting “fetch!” seems pretty universally understandable. 

Such mimics might even make useful allies in a dungeon setting. Who knows what gossip they overhear or what other creatures they observe moving around their territory? 

Mimics are predators, and probably don’t look too kindly on larger things muscling in on their turf. 

A smart mimic (once adequately placated with food) would probably be overjoyed at the idea of sending some adventurers to kill a nearby troll or ooze — something too big for the mimic that it’s forced to share a food supply with.

A Dungeon Master’s Guide To Using Mimics

• Mimics are an act of psychological warfare 
• Embrace this 
• But don’t be a jerk about it

“Everything’s a mimic” is generally considered to be a dick move of proportions somewhere around parking in a handicap spot outside Trader Joes. 

The reason is about power imbalance. Sure, a DM can make everything a mimic — they can make rocks fall or the floor lava or any number of unfair unpleasantnesses occur. 

The trick here is either to make it fair (maybe “sporting” is the better word) or to make it feel real. Ideally, you manage both. 

Make it Fair

Luckily, you can accomplish both of these things in the same way: tell your players (not in so many words) that there are mimics up ahead. 

This can be subtle, like a shaft of light illuminating a single, lonely treasure chest surrounded by bleached bones, or they can be woefully over the top. 

My personal favorite is a piece of paper nailed to the wall in the first goblin guardroom the players clear out that reads “MIMIC FEEDING SCHEDULE — DO NOT FORGET!!”

Basically, it’s my belief that the real fun isn’t the first reveal of “ahah! It’s a mimic!”; the real sadistic joy begins when your players know there’s a mimic somewhere nearby (maybe they find some sticky residue on a pillar), and now every single inanimate, innocuous object is a suspect. 

Doors, hatches, chests, etc. Everything instantly becomes threatening in a way that only fuels the players’ paranoia with every mimic-free minute that ticks by. 

All you have to do is sit back and wear your best poker face. 

Real adrenaline-pumping fear is something very few DMs ever manage to inspire in their players. 

Mimics make the players do this to themselves. They’re the perfect monster because they’re a jumpscare the players sting themselves (and each other) with time and time again. 

Honestly, you can even let the players find the first mimic. 

It’s the second mimic — when they think it’s all over and the context clues they’re seeing are all pointing to the mimic they just fought — that really gets them, especially when the mimics are smart. 

How to Use the Mimic Creatively

This is when you can pull the gotcha traps that people on the DnD subreddit love meming about. Examples include… 

• A chest in an empty room with one door in and one door out. The chest is normal. The door is a mimic. 
• A room full of furniture, cups, weapons, etc. A bunch of things that could be mimics. The carpet is a mimic. 
• The mimic hides in a room with a bunch of treasure chests. 
• The mimic hides inside a treasure chest. 
• The room is a mimic. 

And so on… 

Basically, my advice here is to let your players know what they’re getting into before getting devious with it. Let them know they’ll be exploring the disused dungeons of a mad wizard. 

Let them spot the first mimic chest trap. If they’re smart, let them bargain with it. Let them learn there are more mimics. Let them learn there are mimics everywhere. 

Then sit back and enjoy.