Worldbuilding – Rashundai Games

[Dungeon Cluster] Halls of the Crackling Pack

Estimated reading time: 9 minutes

This is my contribution to the “Dungeon Clustering” presented in the Dungeon Cluster article by Seba from Kritischer Fehlschlag. Go see the article for details, I’ll just summarize it here. As I understand it, the cluster approach to dungeons makes you think of the dungeon as a series of clusters you can mix and match. Within their depth, or dungeon level. Each cluster occupies several rooms and represents a logical unit.

The mix and match possibility is fine for when you need to put together a dungeon in a hurry. You can open your cluster library, pick some, and play. The other benefit is that clusters make you look at your dungeon in terms of larger areas, that make sense internally. The next step is to make them make sense within the dungeon as a whole, and it should be easier when you have the clusters worked out.

The guys at Kritischer Fehlshlag presented a great opportunity to practice creating a dungeon, so naturally I want to take part. Below is a cluster I’ve made for the purpose of this exercise. I wanted to adapt something I’ve already made, but it’s probably better to start anew. Since I am not familiar with Swords & Wizardry, the system preferred in Kritischer Fehlschlag for this exercise, I will write system-neutral.

The Halls of the Crackling Pack

How the pack feels about your party.
Public Domain image by the U.S. Geological Survey.

Cluster Description

The Crackling Pack is a group of gnolls that went exploring the lower levels of the dungeon and never came back up. One or two at a time were recruited by the pack leader, Frath, who has made a pact with a powerful elemental imprisoned below. The pack keeps their presence a secret from those on the upper levels, especially from other gnolls.

How dangerous is this Cluster? (How deep in the Dungeon?)

The Crackling Pack is a formidable group of experienced gnoll warriors and scouts, many of whom are also adept at magic. As foes they would prove quite a challenge. They reside in the mid-level of the dungeon.

Who lives in this Cluster?

Gnolls, forgotten by the mixed horde of orcs, gnolls, minotaurs, and others, that live in the upper levels. They were the ones who survived the defeat of the horde due to getting lost in the dungeons. When they finally got to the upper levels, they found the remainder of their kin in a desolate state. With mainly the young and wounded among the survivors, the gnoll tribe lost its standing within the remnants of the horde. The Crackling Pack decided to stay in the deeper levels and pull the strings of their brethren above, while maintaining a foothold in the mid-levels.

Who is the leader?

Frath, a cunning and resourceful one-eyed gnoll. He’s one of the initial scouting party that got lost down below, only to have found the prison of the Elemental Lord of Storm. Frath made a pact with the elemental and received powers that enable him to survive and thrive in the dangerous environment of the dungeon. He approaches the scouts from above and recruits them to his cause. To this end he also utilizes a trinket enabling him to contact the leader of the above gnolls. Froth keeps his identity hidden, acting as a mysterious entity.

How many inhabitants are there?

The Crackling Pack counts 15 members, including Frath. All of them are combatants, most with experience as scouts or warriors. Six gnolls other than Frath have magic capabilities.

What does this faction desire (Want)?

Frath wants to build a stronghold in the mid-levels for his gnolls to live in. Eventually he wants to approach those left closer to the surface and offer them to come below. To strenghten their position Frath sends his gnolls to search for potent artifacts in the dungeons.

The members of the Crackling Pack want a place to call their home and rebuild the strength their tribe once posessed. Individually they might desire riches, the thrill of fight and exploration, and even revenge against the ones who doomed their tribe in the war (in my setting the dwarves).

What does the faction guard (Resource)?

The gnolls have taken over an ancient dwarven outpost that provides them with an easily defendable position, as well as access to the lower levels. They guard the crystal containing the Elemental Lord of Storm because of the power it gives them. They also have several magical items found in the dungeon.

What do the inhabitants eat?

There is plenty food to be found roaming the untamed mid levels, and the gnolls have the power to hunt most of the unintelligent (and sometimes even sapient) life of the mid levels for food.

Which rooms do they occupy?

[UPDATE 29/09/2026: Added map of the cluster]

Map of the Halls of the Crackling Pack. Made using Dungeon Scrawl, with some assets by Daniel F. Walthall/ Axebane Games (CC BY NC 4.0).

1. Crinoid Hall

A large hall cut into the natural cavern entered through a large intricately carved stone portal resembling the interwoven arms of a crinoid. The hall is mostly empty except for the everpresent rubble, and several pillars carved out of the bedrock. Another, smaller and less ornate portal leads to the dwarven outpost. It is closed by a sturdy stone gate. Concealed arrowslits from other rooms can be found if the wall is carefully examined.

2. Outpost Bailey

The stone portal opens to a medium-sized rectangular room. Several doors lead from the bailey to parts of the outpost. Low barricades meant to slow attackers are placed strategically. There are alcoves with arrowslits leading to the hall outside. The surrounding walls also feature arrowslits to shoot from the rooms of the outpost.

3. Mess Hall

The door opposite the main gate leads to a hall furnished with stone tables and benches. The gnolls use it as their main meeting area, and any dealings with them will probably take place here. The large crystal containing the Elemental Lord of Storm sits in the middle of the hall, fused to the floor.

4. Froth’s Study

A room behind the mess hall taken by Froth. It lacks any comfort, but is filled with various artifacts and trinkets, inscribed tablets, bones and skulls, and other occult clutter. Many of the items are worthless, or at least damaged or discharged. Froth spends a lot of time in his study, but not exclusively.

5. Sleeping Quarters

The left door from the bailey opens into a dormitory that’s been converted into a gnoll den. There is no furniture, and there are nests of moss, fur, hides, and other soft bedding everywhere.

6. Descending Stairwell

The right bailey door leads to a stairwell leading one level below. In addition to the outer door there is also a metal grate, and another stone door opened from the outpost.

What does the cluster smell like, and what’s the lighting like?

The gnoll enclave smells like wet dog and stale piss. The gnolls are not keen on hygiene, and while they don’t relieve themselves in the the living quarters, they don’t bathe. A heavy smell of ozone lingers in Froth’s quarters and around the elemental.

Without a need for light the majority of the caves is only lit when the gnolls light a campfire, otherwise it’s dark. Froth uses magical light when researching, and the crystal with the Elemental Lord of Storm gives a faint glow, that grows brighter when approached.

Pressing problem of the faction

The mid levels are not without competition, and several other factions keep looking for ways to get into the gnoll compound. There is also a group of scouts missing after being sent to a lower level.

Internal conflict withing the faction

Froth commands respect and loyalty from his pack. Unless he shows weakness (e.g. not finding the missing scouts), no one will challenge him. If there’s any kind of considerable failure on his part, at least one warrior and one magic user will openly challenge his leadership. Gnolls being gnolls, discussion could quicky turn to violence.

Do residents often leave the cluster?

Hunting parties leave daily, and dungeon explorers every now and then. The gnolls take care not to be noticed by the denizens of the upper levels, and prefer to roam the mid and low levels instead, as far as danger permits.

Behaviour towards adventurers outside the cluster

Depending on the perceived power of the party they might attack or avoid them. The gnolls will not initiate non-violent encounters, but might be persuaded to talk, especially with bribery.

Behaviour towards adventurers entering the cluster

The gnolls are territorial, and should a party of adventurers approach from the outside, they would feel the need to protect their den. The guards will be prepared and they will try to ambush the party unless hailed openly. Carefully approached with gifts, the gnolls might be open to discussion.

Froth is reasonable enough for a gnoll, and would use the party for the benefit of the pack. Bargains and temporary alliances might be reached if the party seems capable. Hidden challengers might contact the party should Froth seem too soft in negotiations. They would offer their help if the party agrees to help with leadership exchange.

If the party manages to commune with the Elemental Lord of Storm in private, the elemental might strike bargains of his own, even make a pact and become a patron to a character. His agenda might not be the same as the gnolls’.

Behaviour towards other dungeon inhabitants (humanoid)

The Crackling Pack sees the near-surface gnolls as inferior, but they wish to give them a chance to prove themselves. Those worthy may join their new underground enclave. The other monstrous humanoids are viewed as competition at best, and enemies whenever there’s any hint of conflict. The gnolls of the Crackling Pack don’t suffer witnesses.

Behaviour towards other dungeon inhabitants (monstrous)

If it’s edible, the gnolls hunt it. If it’s dangerous, they usually avoid it, but sometimes the risk is worth it. With how few the pack counts, however, the gnolls had to learn caution.

Conclusion

I’ve made a simple dungeon cluster for middle dungeon levels, that I’ve tried to make setting-neutral. You could probably use it in a dungeon with only small changes, such as providing the stats for the system of your choice. It was a fun exercise, and I might try using this approach on an entire dungeon.

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Motivated by Curiosity

Estimated reading time: 14 minutes For the last month or two I’ve been exchanging messages and comments sporadically with Roland, or Dnalor the Troll. He’s writing a TTRPG blog and there’s about a decade of quality content. You should really check out his page and delve in, there’s a lot of inspirational stuff to be … Continue reading “Motivated by Curiosity”

Estimated reading time: 14 minutes

For the last month or two I’ve been exchanging messages and comments sporadically with Roland, or Dnalor the Troll. He’s writing a TTRPG blog and there’s about a decade of quality content. You should really check out his page and delve in, there’s a lot of inspirational stuff to be found there! If you have any interest in the The Dark Eye (Das Schwarze Auge) system, it’s a must! That’s the system behind the Realms of Arkania video game series (one that I hope to beat one day and write about it).

Anyway, at first we talked about dinosaurs and their TTRPG applications, because every sane person loves dinosaurs. Then Roland read some of my old articles, such as Dungeons: How to Behave, where I discussed the various motives for the party being in a dungeon, and he wrote this comment:

Another interesting article on the subject of dungeons.

“Note that I have omitted exploration from my categories. Of course one can imagine a party that just ventured down some stairs to see what’s down there. But I also think in this kind of situation there is something missing – motive.”

However, I would disagree here. I think curiosity is a very strong motive for entering a dungeon. The best real-world equivalent that comes to mind is urban explorers who enter old, forgotten bunkers, villas, or other abandoned buildings, hopefully taking nothing but photographs and leaving nothing but footprints. They, too, explore a dungeon out of pure curiosity.

— Dnalor the Troll

On one level I agree wholeheartedly, curiosity is one of the strongest motivators. You can see my whole reply below:

I understand what you mean. And certainly for urban explorers the motivation is curiosity, the thrill of exploration, perhaps thrill of trespassing. But it’s a completely different state of society we’re talking about. The urban explorers probably have their day jobs and go “dungeon crawling” for fun. In a typical TTRPG setting the characters do so either out of necessity, or feel some calling. Even if they’re just curious, the curiosity is based on what can be gained, or what has to be eliminated. The urban explorers have it in their code not to take anything, and certainly they’re not looking for potential dangers to be eliminated before they manifest.

So essentially I agree that curiosity can be a motivation. Maybe the settings I’m used to and like don’t cater to curiosity for the sake of curiosity well. My “school of thought” is based on a more realistic and less heroic take, where you don’t take risks you don’t have to, etc.

It’s however a valid point, thank you again! Perhaps we could both write articles with our takes on curiosity as a motive, what do you say?
Cheers!

— Rashundai

Roland agreed that we would both write down our views on curiosity, and we set a date. This is my part of the deal, you can see Roland’s here – An Ode to Curiosity – what drives us forward in the dungeon?

What are we talking about?

Let’s start with the basics, and clear out the terms we’ll be using. The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines curiosity as a “desire to know”, either in the form of a) intellectual curiosity, or b) nosiness. There are other meanings, but this is the one I’ll be working with, and I believe it’s the one Roland meant.

A curious man. Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.

Motivation is defined by Merriam-Webster as “a motivating force, stimulus, or influence”. Again I won’t be dealing with other meanings, such as the act of motivating someone. Let’s also include motive, which is “something (such as a need or desire) that causes a person to act”, again courtesy of Merriam-Webster. For some unknown reason the Cambridge dictionary keeps giving me blank pages, so I guess I am pledged solely to Merriam-Webster from now on.

Now that we have this out of the way, let’s take a look at the different levels both curiosity and motivation are used in TTRPGs. I will also be using examples from other media, such as video games, where appropriate.

Curiosity as a Characteristic

Being curious is often a prerequisite to becoming an adventurer. Character backstory doesn’t always have to be riddled with betrayal, loss of loved ones, and suffering (really, trust me!). Sometimes all you need is the thirst for answers. What lies beyond the woods? What does the capital look like? Are the elves real?

Most commonly associated with either scholarly types, or cheerful upbeat characters. Bards, rogues, young apprentices, they often have in common their curiosity. But not only those; a fighter wishing to see the world (out of curiosity) might join the army, then leave to become an adventurer.

Curiosity is also something that is relevant in many types of settings. Your “regular fantasy”, space opera, hard sci-fi, early 20th century mystery, modern weird, whatever. What could be different is the way curiosity is regarded by the majority of the society, and whether it can be a motivation in itself.

Curiosity as an Attribute

Before we tap into the fields of motivation, let’s discuss curiosity as an attribute, something measurable that influences the way the character acts mechanically.

This is definitely Roland’s field, because one of the few things I know about the Das Schwarze Auge system is that there is curiosity in the form of a negative attribute. There are others, such as acrophobia, claustrophobia, or avarice. A character has to succeed on check, or give into the vice/phobia. So much I remember from the video games, and I apologize if I’ve got it wrong. Roland will surely correct me in his part.

Similar mechanics exists in Darkest Dungeons, where curiosity is a negative quirk that raises the chance of the character interacting with tomes and other pieces of knowledge. The video game describes the quirk as “obsessed with the acquisition of knowledge”. Needless to say, opening and reading every book found in the evil-infested biomes of the Estate often leads to unnecessary fun.

I can also imagine curiosity being beneficial, for example when researching, or learning something, even in small talk. In the Crusader Kings series it is a childhood trait, and it usually helps becoming better at learning and diplomacy. There’s also the chance the Curious child gets the Cynical trait as it grows up, which in-game essentially means you don’t like religious zeal at all. And the religions don’t like you.

Curiosity as Motivation

Now we’re getting to the part that started all of this. My premise was that exploration for exploration’s sake, just out of curiosity, is rarely the real motive for entering a dungeon. As you can see from the quotes above, and will probably see in his article, Roland disagrees. And it’s absolutely fine, because anyone can play these little pretend games anyway they like.

In this part of my article it’s my objective to explain my point of view. Why exploration simply out of curiosity is not something I would expect or support in a game or story. And what kind of game or story I would find better suited for curiosity to be motive enough in itself.

Curiosity Killed the Cat

Everybody knows the saying, though in our world it’s not always spot on. Our lives would be much poorer if not for curiosity, both our own, and of those who brought us the wonders of the modern age. We could rightfully sing odes to scientists, explorers, and great thinkers, who were led by their curiosity and made the world a better place.

TTRPG games usually take place in settings different from our world. Even if the setting is a version of the real world, usually there are some supernatural or sci-fi elements. Those are usually dangerous to some extent, and the same curiosity that could bring progress and prosperity could bring death and suffering. Opening a container and releasing a plague/demon/AI/whatever. Stepping inside a monster’s lair and becoming its victim. Reading a forbidden book, or downloading a malevolent virus. Inventing teleportation technology that unfortunately uses literal hell as a shortcut.

Those are all actions that stem from being curious, and can have negative outcomes. Or positive ones, for example the container might store vital knowledge or a cure. The monster might not actually be a monster, but a potential ally. Either way it’s perfectly reasonable for such things to happen, for the characters to act out their curiosity. But we’re talking about one action, or a set of actions. Jack opened the container out of curiosity, but he had a different motivation for being in the mansion in the first place.

Moreover there are settings where it’s common knowledge, or at least common enough for the player characters, that there’s a danger to being curious. An unmarked flagon is not something to drink. You take it to an alchemist. An amulet found in a crypt is not to be worn immediately. You seek out someone who can check it out and find any curses (“identify” in video game jargon). If you’re on a quest from a mage to recover an old tome, you’ve been briefed not to browse it and to absolutely never read from it aloud. A character might of course think otherwise, but that’s the fun part. Realistically it can be known that being too curious can be very dangerous in such a setting. You can literally die from curiosity.

Crawling out of Curiosity

One of my basic assumptions when it comes to dungeons is that they are dangerous. The source of danger might vary, there might be monsters, traps, environmental hazards, but still it’s no walk in a park. You can realistically die in a dungeon, and it’s many times more probable than bandits or goblins raiding your village. Or than a catastrophic failure of your ship’s systems. You are actively pushing your luck when entering a dungeon, and you better have a good enough reason.

The reasons for entering a dungeon can be varied, but I tried to sum them up in Dungeons: How to Behave. The table below is supposed to list some of the various “behavioral modes” for dungeon crawlers. It’s not exhaustive, but many times what the party will be doing is a variation of one of those.

	Explore everything	Defeat everything	Time span	Manpower needed
Transit	no	no	short	party
Assassination	no	no	medium	party
Extermination	yes	yes	medium to long	army
Treasure hunt	no	no	medium	party
Reclamation	yes	yes	long	army

Now the thing Roland was missing is exploration. Crawling through the dungeon out of curiosity. As I mentioned before, there are situations where I can imagine such an undertaking. Roland mentioned urban explorers, and yes, they indeed “crawl dungeons” purely out of curiosity. They also have a code that is very much the opposite of what most dungeon crawls do. There’s no “official” Urbex Codex, but the one I linked is more than enough for the purposes of this article.

Exploring a storm drain tunnel. Photo by Alejandro De Roa on Pexels.

In most TTRPG dungeon crawls, unless it’s specifically forbidden or unwanted, the party loots, damages, and destroys. Sometimes there’s nothing to destroy, but even if looting is not the main reason for being there, it occurs. And even if a character’s motivation for entering the dungeon is curiosity, they are curious about what could be found in there. Or perhaps they are curious what threats could escape if left unchecked, the next step being stopping those threats, or at least spreading the news.

The curious mind seeks knowledge and information, but in the settings I’m familiar with, these are akin to other treasures. The curious mage doesn’t crave knowledge because it brings them joy to learn something (though it might as well), but to further use it in their research. Or apply it directly. Same with information in a space opera or cyberpunk setting. Sure your boss is curious what’s with the increased activity near that moon. But they want to use that information as a bargaining chip, not just sit contently knowing something new.

I will however offer one situation in which curiosity becomes acceptable even for someone with my mindset. The betterment of the society through knowledge, experience, and sensations gained from satisfying curiosity. Something that should ideally be happening right now in the real world, or at least that’s the idea behind a lot of research being done. There’s another “however”, though.

The Luxury of Curiosity

There is one other thing that prevents me from accepting curiosity as a motive for dungeon crawling. And it’s the same thing that makes me resent most treatments of archaeology in games. I will write an article about how most works use archaeology the wrong way one day. Yes, it is my field, and most of the time archaeology in games is as annoying to me as a lot of sci-fi staples must be to engineers and physicists.

Sunlight entering a cave. Photo by Heber Vazquez on Pexels.

For curiosity to exist as the primary motivation the world, or at least the society in question, must meet some conditions. Since research and exploration just to satisfy curiosity would sit quite high in the pyramid of needs, conditions enabling at least some members of the society to engage in such activities must exist. In most settings those people would not be the player characters. More likely it’s the quest givers, and the rewards are probably something other than satisfied curiosity.

People with means to fund the satisfaction of their curiosity also often need those means to either secure their own position, or further the needs of their society. As in an archmage devoting their power to the protection of the realm, a brilliant scientist working to find a cure for an epidemic. If no such threats exist, the setting is either a utopia, or something like the real world. Down to the fact that the people with means to battle the existing threats would rather not.

We’re getting close to cyberpunk territory in those last sentences, and I’m reminded of the times I’ve seen curiosity as a motive in Shadowrun. And indeed often the runners are sent on a mission just to learn something. Whether it’s true that X, or what happened at Y. We could say the motivation is curiosity. But there’s usually a follow-up, such as revenge. I would perhaps say that it’s more of a “need for information” than curiosity. And information is just like any other treasure, so a dungeon crawl/run/mission/whatever motivated by the acquisition of certain knowledge would fall into my “treasure hunt” category.

Summary

In this article I have tried to present my views regarding curiosity as a motive for entering a dungeon. In my opinion in many settings the real motive is different. Curiosity is then something often possessed by those who make a living of crawling dungeons, perhaps the driving factor for their life choices, that might influence the outcome of certain situations.

In other words, the party came to the dungeon to gain something, or perhaps eliminate a threat. The curiosity of individual party members might help them, they might for example find hidden loot, or alternative paths. It can also harm them, for example by making them more susceptible to traps and lures.

There are settings and context where curiosity can serve as the primary motivation for dungeon crawling, or whatever the player characters do. These however might not make that much sense unless several conditions are met. I might get to describe those in detail in another article. For now let’s say that doing dangerous things only to sate one’s curiosity requires a lot of more basic needs met, and that TTRPG settings are often not built that way. If yours is, please share a link in the comments!

Curiosity is a wonderful thing, both in the context of TTRPGs and in the real world. DMs build worlds and adventures hoping to pique the players’ curiosity so that they want to see more and more. And curious characters can be both fun and rewarding to play. So definitely build your stuff around curiosity and be curious yourself!

Digging Better Dungeons – (Un)Broken Environmental Puzzles

Estimated reading time: 14 minutes

This post is part of a series analyzing several aspects of one of the recognizable parts of the TTRPGs we all love – the dungeons. The articles can be read in any order and they will be cross-linked when necessary. Throughout the series (and elsewhere) I use “dungeon” as a technical term and it can be used to describe any clearly defined environment containing multiple non-random encounters. These include natural caves, mines, keeps and castles, crypts, temples, ships and other vehicles, and many others.

When the party skips your puzzle

You prepared a situation where the party has to get across a chasm, or out of a deep pit. There are several solutions using the environment, character abilities and skills, or the items they found earlier. A classic environmental puzzle.

You forgot the party gained a level, and the wizard now has the Fly spell. They’re handed a coil of rope and sent upwards, where they tie it to a conveniently protruding protrusion. The rest of the party climbs up and you’ve just lost a chunk of content.

Of course they did nothing wrong, they used a tool at their disposal the correct way. That should be rewarded, if anything. Though perhaps next time you can anticipate the use of magic and create the puzzle or situation in a way that prevents such easy solutions.

An environmental puzzle from Silo, season 2. The kind most parties above level 1 would clear in a second. All rights reserved to Apple TV and/or other respective owners.

“Bypass” spells

Magic is a staple in fantasy, and we usually wouldn’t want it any other way. It opens up a myriad of possibilities, from wielding terrifying destructive powers, to reshaping the environment. There are however times when magic narrows down the course of a narrative. Depending on the workings of magic in the setting there might be codified spells, or more “freeform” casting, and both have their distinct effects.

The type of magic used in D&D, often called Vancian, uses spells with a defined set of parameters. When you cast an offensive spell, you know the range, area of effect, damage amount and type. You usually can’t use it for much else. Perhaps set something on fire with a fire spell. This kind of magic has firm rules, so you can account for its use and plan accordingly.

The other way of using magic is what we can call “freeform” magic. There are no codified spells wit set parameters. Instead you describe what you want to achieve, and use the corresponding school, circle, or whatever your powers are classified by. The DM (or in this case anything other than a DM) decides whether it’s within the character’s power, and after your roll announces the result. It’s not as easy to plan the encounters and puzzles with this in mind. Player creativity is sometimes boundless, and this is the case where it definitely should be rewarded.

Since we’re mainly dealing with systems using Vancian magic on this site, I will continue in this way. So, spells it is. Which spells cause the most trouble? Well of course the ones that enable you to move in unnatural ways. Some are available quite early and don’t do that much of a difference. You even want them used. Others, while received at higher levels, make quite a mess of your environmental puzzles. Let’s have a breakdown of the culprits.

Jump

The 1st level transmutation spell Jump is a great utility spell. It is available early and the effect can be used multiple times for a minute. A character with a strength score of 10 could do a 30 feet running jump, or 15 feet standing jump. That’s a lot. A ranger with above average strength could clear a lot of chasms quite easily.

Spider Climb

Channel your friend’s inner Spider Man with this handy 2nd level spell. Or a spider horror, as they might look to onlookers while they somehow climb walls without using their hands. Presumably they sprout some spider limbs that do the climbing. Whatever the case, the spell lets a character get to a lot of otherwise inaccessible places, and it lasts up to an hour. Plenty of time to do what needs to be done, and you can cast it on someone other than yourself.

Levitate

Another 2nd level spell, Levitate has loads of uses. You can float a creature or an object up to 60 feet from yourself. That should cover a lot of gaps and height differences. The levitated creature is rather helpless and depends on the caster for movement, unless it can pull or push itself against something. For a 2nd level spell it offers a lot, though.

Misty Step

The first available teleportation spell, Misty Step enables the caster to move 30 feet to a place they can see. You can get much more out of Spider Climb, Jump, or Levitate, if the conditions are favourable and you have time. But if time is running out, a Misty Step across a hazard might save your neck.

Rope Trick

Another 2nd level spell that could help in certain situations. As long as you have a rope up to 60 feet long, you can hang it upright in thin air. It’s held by an extradimensional pocket that you can hide in. You can also just use it to climb where needed and jump off the rope.

Fly

One of the 3rd level spells casters are waiting for, Fly opens many doors. A real game changer when it comes to mobility, this spell can wreck your environmental puzzles in numerous ways. At higher levels you can affect additional creatures, possibly making it better than Dimension Door (see below).

Gaseous Form

Not only Fly becomes available when you get to 3rd level spells. Gaseous Form gives you wings as well, but also makes you, well, gaseous. Good for escaping and squeezing through small openings. To interact with the world you have to end the spell, however. Unlike others in this list that you can benefit from multiple times.

Water Walk

Water Walk is more specific in its utility than Fly or Spider Climb. The name suggests water, but you can cross any liquid while under the effects of this spell. And it can target up to ten creatures. That large pool of acid? The party can get across with safe feet. Quicksand? Lava? Deep snow? They can walk over all of it, though each poses its own hazards other than drowning.

Dimension Door

We’re getting to the big league spells with this 4th level conjuration spell. A proper teleport with a range of 500 feet. The range isn’t that great outdoors, but should be enough for your indoor needs. You can take one other creature with you and both of you can carry your full capacity. An excellent utility spell, though you have to be a 7th level full caster to get it.

Far Step

In Xanathar’s Guide to Everything we can find what’s essentially a continuous Misty Step. You can blink 60 feet each turn for up to 1 minute or while you retain concentration. The blink is a bonus action, so you can cover a lot of ground while also performing another action on each stop. The total distance is shorter than Dimension Door and your friends have to wait while you’re blinking around, but it’s still a neat spell.

Passwall

Passwall is a 5th level wizard exclusive spell that creates a tunnel up to 20 feet long in a wall. The description specifies wood, plaster, or stone, but one could argue the possibility of its use on other materials. With this your don’t have to worry about locked doors, or any doors when you think about it. Any wall with thickness under 20 feet can be bypassed by this spell. At 9th caster level you would expect this kind of stuff, though.

Arcane Gate

We’re arriving into high magic territory. Arcane Gate essentially creates two portals similar to those from the Portal game. They should conserve the direction and velocity of a creature or object entering them. The difference is that you can’t stick the portals to a surface. They float in the air above aground, and you can rotate them as a bonus action. With this many environmental puzzles cease to be puzzles, but since it’s a 6th level spell, it is to be expected.

Wind Walk

Another spell that already has a toned down version in Gaseous Form, this 6th level transformation is the ultimate escape and traveling aid for parties. The caster can affect up to ten other creatures. All of them benefit from the effects of the Gaseous Form with a flying speed of 300 feet. Anyone affected can revert to normal state and back for the whole duration of the spell, 8 hours. The transformation takes one minute, but it’s a very small price to pay for the utility it brings.

Countermeasures

Your goal as a DM is for everyone to have fun (including you). You manage this by creating and running an engaging adventure. The outcomes of various actions are not guaranteed, and failure should always be an option, though not necessarily fatal. Each character has a set of tools at their disposal, guided by their player’s skill and creativity.

This creativity should be supported and rewarded. Sometimes the tools at disposal block creativity, leading to situations and encounters being solved too easily. That’s where you have to be creative, and use the tools *you* as the DM have at your disposal. Some are better, some are worse. The order in which you find them below is roughly worst to best.

DM Fiat

By far the worst possible option. I’m mentioning it here as a warning, as this will not lead to fun or positive feedback from your players. In short, when a player finds a bypass you didn’t account for, you deny its use. The player wants to cast a spell and you flatly state they can’t use it now. Never do this, and instead try anything other from this list.

Environmental restraints

By environmental restraints I mean conditions that prevent the use of a bypass that are not DM fiat and might make sense. Still they are rather cheap and obviously are there only to block a particular tool. A good example is some sort of magical field, or technological device, that disables magic. You could cast Fly, but that crystal on the other side of the pit cancels your spells. In some settings too much technological devices could do the same to a caster. Or there’s a small turret that zaps everyone trying to cast a spell, not doing much damage, but interrupting the spell.

It is fine when this is foreshadowed. If the party is trying to rob a vault secured against all magic, it makes sense they should only rely on their non-magical prowess. In a regular dungeon where magic is okay everywhere *but* the one place it would be really handy? I’d say it’s badly designed.

Spell caveats

The bypass spells offer great utility in what they’re intended for. They are not complex solutions, and sometimes need other arrangements. These might be as simple as a piece of equipment (rope, pitons, bucket, sled), or another spell. That brings us to resource management, when casters have to think twice before wasting a spell when another solution was possible (see below).

Water Walk enables to walk on the surface of the liquid, but does not protect from other effects it might possess. The PHB mentions heat from lava, but acid vapours are also bad for your health. There might be things living in the liquid you’re trying to walk over, and some might be hungry.

Spider Climb needs walls. What if there are none that can be reached? Or the walls might also be dangerous. Covered in toxic mushrooms or territorial vermin, or crumbling when crawled over, sending the unlucky adventurers to the pits below.

Resource management

Probably in any game, not only those with Vancian magic, there are limits to magic use. Whether it’s daily uses, spell points, stamina, or blood, you can’t have your every action be spellcasting. Most casters probably have to think how they spend their magic, same as any other resource. Depending on other factors, such as party composition, the caster might have to split their magic uses between offensive, defensive, and utility.

You can work with this knowledge to create dilemmas, decisions that have to be made either beforehand (memorizing spells), or at the moment (other forms). At higher levels many foes can have resistances and immunities to normal attacks. Spells might be needed to defeat them. Enemies or the environment might on the other hand present dangers that have to be countered by magic. Or there are simply multiple environmental puzzles, so at least some need to be solved without magic.

Puzzle design

This is what I believe to be the grail you should strive to reach when designing environmental puzzles. Or anything, really. Let’s say there’s an obstacle the party has to overcome. Don’t set it up that simply getting through with one character is enough, not even the whole party. It needs to be *solved*, and that might mean a lot of different things. Perhaps you need to move some NPCs or animals across as well. They won’t climb 60 feet of dangling rope, or agree to be changed into mist. You need to make a safe path.

Or perhaps there’s a large object that’s needed somewhere across the pit, maybe two rooms further. It’s too large and heavy to carry on back, fit inside a portal, and it can’t be changed into mist or given spider legs. You need to make way for the huge boulder, or portable generator. You might be able to bypass the next puzzle with a spell again, but now that’s two spell slots that could have been used differently. It is all connected, and each solution might affect the next puzzle.

This can be taken a bit further making multiple environmental puzzles part of one large puzzle. The diverted flow of an underground river fills a pool that raises a platform, upon which the fallen column for another puzzle can be rolled. The new flow also powers an elevator that goes not only up, where you could fly or climb, but also down. The way down was concealed by the elevator platform. Descending the elevator shaft might prove to be a shortcut, or a bonus area with clues, lore, a helpful NPC, or just extra loot.

It is a lot more work, creating a complex environmental puzzle where the pieces are interconnected. And the players might find yet another way to bypass the situations you so meticulously prepared. Keep in mind that even if it doesn’t work out the way you intended you still have your notes. It was probably a good exercise, and you can publish it! Or take some parts out, mix and match with other stuff, and use in a different campaign.

Conclusion

Magic is an essential part of fantasy, yet it can make your prepared content “skippable” too easily. There are several ways to keep environmental puzzles relevant and interesting even on mid party levels. Try designing your puzzles with magic and its limitations in mind. That way you can offer puzzles that have to be solved with brains instead of spellcasting rolls.

The guidelines presented in the article are by no means exhaustive, and I would love to read your thoughts in the comments! It’s also up to you as the DM to know your players and arrange things accordingly. Some players will never appreciate environmental puzzles, and would prefer to skip them with a spell. That’s fine, but since you’re reading this, either you, your players, or both parties like to solve an environmental puzzle at least from time to time.

Plastic fantastic?

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:First_Semi-commercial_Bakelizer_1935_Bakelite_Review_Silver_Anniversary_p6.tif — The Bakelizer looks like it would fit quite well in an alchemy lab

Estimated reading time: 6 minutes

When you imagine a fantasy setting plastic is probably among the least likely things you have in your mind. Often based on Medieval, Ancient or Victorian Earth, fantasy settings tend to keep away from such modern inventions as plastics. On the other hand many authors gladly fill their creations with lots of other anachronisms.

It’s understandable – who would want their their dwarven barbarian to drink ale from a PET bottle? This is disgusting even in real life. Or have their elven warlock wield a molded PVC staff? For many this would break the immersion they seek from a fantasy novel or game, be it tabletop or videogame. Yet there are plastics in our world that can seamlessly enter your fantasy setting. Especially if you avoid calling them “plastics”.

Real world plastics

The beginnings of plastics in our world sound like the exploits of alchemists discovering new formulas in pursuit of superior substances. Early polymers were quite different from the plastics of today, and are coveted as collectibles by some. You can read about the history of plastics in the Sources at the end of the article. To keep it short, chemists strove to create new materials for various reasons, often economical. Many of the early plastics were supposed to substitute expensive and rare resources such as ivory. Some can be made at home using quite basic ingredients and equipment.

Then there are modern plastics we all know. They make up a huge amount of the world we live in. Stuff like PVC and HDPE need no introductions, and it can be guessed that Kevlar also rings a bell. These plastics require a complex understanding of chemistry. They also need access to rather advanced equipment and non-basic resources, and are made in large scale. Many are made of petroleum, another thing not commonly used in fantasy settings.

Fantasy plastics

A monkeyman alchemist heating the mold he’s making his new polymer in!
Oil by Edmund Bristow (1787–1876) via lookandlearn.com (CC BY 4.0)

Now let’s take a look at our fantasy settings. Why would you introduce plastics into a world where there are other interesting materials, often magical? Think about who’s going to be the creator of the newly introduced plastics. Yes, the alchemists! Some will be conservative and stick to a dozen essential creations that they spam all over. But I believe in most settings the alchemists constantly look for new ways to power, knowledge, and destruction. It’s a matter of time before they start stumbling on plastics. It’s also a matter of availability. Sure you can use mammoth ivory, but it would cost you an arm and a leg. Dairying cows are grazing under your window at this very moment, and for a few coppers you can get all the milk you need to make that new component out of casein plastic!

Now you might say that mammoth ivory has certain magical properties that make it not only more valuable but also desirable for certain applications. Why couldn’t your not-Galalith also have properties that would make it stand out in its own way? It could provide different magical advantages, or dampen negative effects. When made from a special milk, let’s say unicorn milk, unique properties could develop. Even with cow milk maybe the new material is the only one that is non-reactive in combination with another. Or perhaps plastics aren’t new but instead old, the remnants of an ancient civilization, and can be found as artifacts from a bygone era. Either these are usable as they are, or the plastics could be only collected and remade into new items. Roman glass was reused in Medieval period in this way, to the extent of scholars writing explicitly that you should dig in old Roman ruins for shards of quality glass to recycle!

Plastics in other settings

It’s not an easy task finding plastics being used in fantasy. Authors or game designers prefer more “fantasy” materials than something that surrounds us everywhere in real life. There are few exceptions I found and would like to introduce shortly.

Dungeons of Dredmor

The light-hearted 2011 rogue-like introduced plastics as “plastic ore” that can be melted into “plastic ingots”. Most of the craftable items like “pleather armor” or “plastic bolts”are near-useless . There are some high-level weapons though that are crafted using plastic ingots. This is something that can be pointed out as rather useful. Plastics in your scenario don’t have to be common or available. There can instead be specific conditions under which they become a valuable resource.

The Elder Scrolls

One of Morrowind’s most iconic materials is bonemold. It is a composite material made from bonemeal (ground bones) and resin. It is similar to real world bakelite, with bonemeal serving as the filling material, and the resin unsurprisingly as the resin. Both components are natural in origin, so easily explained in a fantasy setting. Being used mostly for making armour by the Dunmer armoursmiths, it has nevertheless other uses. In TES: Morrowind we see bonemold longbows, arrows, and crossbow bolts. Later games in the series offer only armour that can be crafted from bonemeal, leather and some iron.

Different sets of bonemold armour from TES: Morrowind. All rights reserved to Bethesda Softworks, UESP and/or other respective owners (CC BY-SA 2.5 DEED)

The use of bonemold in The Elder Scrolls (Morrowind in particular) shows how you can get unique and interesting results if you don’t think only in terms of traditional fantasy options. Bonemold feels anything but immersion-breaking. It’s never called a plastic, and fits the strangeness of the Dunmer culture very well.

Conclusion

Only two examples of plastics in fantasy settings? Well, the reason for this article is the scarcity of plastics in fantasy. So yes, it’s quite hard to find some media where it’s been used. Outside of settings where plastics are by default common, naturally. The examples show two different approaches. One using outright “modern” plastics for comic relief (Dungeons of Dredmor), the other deals with “archaic” plastics in a less conspicuous way (The Elder Scrolls). Both have their pros and cons. It depends on the setting and tone of your game which is better suited. It’s quite possible to use both “modern” and “archaic” plastics in a single setting. Just avoid using real world names and descriptions such as PVC, or plastic.

What are your thoughts on plastics outside modern or sci-fi settings? Hate it or love it? Do you recall seeing any sort of plastic in a fantasy setting? In a video game, a novel, a movie? Please feel free to share your views and experiences in the comments section. As always, thanks for reading and sharing!

Sources

Monster Produce part I

A longer article exploring the idea of monstrous vegetables. Free sample near the end!

Estimated reading time: 16 minutes

Sometimes you need a change from all the orcs, goblins, or undead. Maybe you want to surprise your players, the plot might require different foes, or you just want to have some lighthearted fun. Wherever your need comes from, we’ve got your back with Monster Produce!

I’m talking about monsters based on fruits and vegetables. While you can find plenty of plant-based enemies in the rulebooks, produce is generally not as well represented. Maybe the notion really is silly, and has a place only in parody games. That is up to you to decide after you’ve finished your veggies, I mean this post. There’s also a little treat waiting for you at the end!

The How and Why?

As with all monsters you probably want to know a little more about them than just the stat block. Why would there be vegetables attacking people, and how they came to be? Let’s look at some possibilities.

Your killer tomatoes can be natural or artificial. Maybe spontaneous is a better term than natural. Anyway it means that no deity, magic user, or scientist created them. A magical field, some kind of mutagen, or even plain fantasy evolution, might have created monsters out of these plants. They are probably tied to a place with precise conditions. Like a magical spring or the impact site of a meteorite. These conditions might not be replicable, or they might be (and this might be of interest to certain parties). There might be a “Plane of Produce” where every fruit and vegetable has its monstrous counterpart. These can either be summoned, or maybe they appear when certain conditions are met.

On the other hand we have artificial veggie monsters. They have been engineered by an alchemist of some sort, probably with botanical leaning. They might also be the result of a spell gone wrong (or right), creating dependable (or not) minions from household supplies. A deity might have sent them as a punishment, or as a boon to the faithful.

And what are the pros and cons of vegetable and fruit monsters? It’s hard to generalize, as they can vary widely. Being essentially plants they have different anatomy than animals. They might lack weak spots, though this might also differ across produce types. Slashing damage might be fine, but piercing and/or blunt damage might not work as well on most. Imagine stabbing a raw potato with a fork. Or hitting a celeriac bulb with a stick. On the other hand they might have unique weaknesses. Salt comes to mind, anyone who ever cooked vegetables knows that they release water and soften when salted.

Depending on their origin, these animated greens might still be edible, or at least usable in some manner. I remember fondly the amazement I experienced as a kid when screamers in Dungeon Master yielded edible slices. Woody tissue might be a rare material for crafting. And of course whatever toxic, hallucinogenic, or healing substances found in the original plant might be present. Possibly even more potent in these enhanced specimens.

Veggie Varieties and Fruit Forms

After deciding their origin, we need to choose the shapes and forms of our Horticultural Horrors. The configuration will determine their stats and roles, and might be linked to their origin. I imagine it’s more likely a mutagenic serum would create a massive onion crawling on its roots spreading poison clouds, than little onion people with arms and legs and smiling faces. The latter might be the work of magic, or a deity.

The first type of our typology (type I) is an animated version of the base fruit or vegetable, possibly weaponized by transformed leaves, vines, husks, shell, whatever applies. Fangs, claws, and other animal parts might also be present. It may or may not have a face, often it will have no eyes. Size might differ from one normal for the fruit or veggie to monstrously enlarged specimens. Animated pumpkins lashing vines around, or man-eater plant proxies (giant bell peppers sitting on their plant waiting for suitable prey to come along) fall into this type. Killer tomatoes would fit here as well.

Then there is the aggregate type (type II). Here a bunch of type I specimens become fused or form a reversible colony. This not only increases the mass, but could also lead to the development of new abilities, an increase in intelligence, or even sentience.

The next type (type III) is roughly humanoid (IIIa) or animal-shaped (IIIb). The base fruit or vegetable will get arms and legs, and at least a face if not a whole separate head. They might easily range from cute to creepy. Type IIIa will include mandrake, various fruit and vegetable sprites, Oddish, or Mr. Potato Head. Type IIIb would resemble an animal or a broader animal group (e.g. dog, turtle, lizard).

Type IV is fully humanoid to the extent that the original fruit or vegetable is not readily identifiable at first glance. It’s not an apple with arms, legs, and head stuck to it, but a delicious person made of apple-flesh.

Putrid Potatoes

Have you seen those memes with potatoes that have spent way too long in the cupboard and started reaching out for soil and your soul? Look them up if you haven’t. Add to that the often misshapen forms of the tubers and you’ve got a set of attributes ready for monstrification. And what if those potatoes were the size of a man or larger, as in the collage below?

A potato harvest, collage by W.H. Martin (ca. 1910s) via lookandlearn.com (CC0 1.0).

The potato idea was used in the 2011 roguelike Dungeons of Dredmor by Gaslamp Games. Large levitating potatoes with sprouts and eyes (type I) bearing names such as Evil Magic Potato or Enchanted Plaguetato plague your steps from the beginning. They can cast magic missiles or other spells, depending on the tier. It’s certainly a nice execution, one of the best Produce Monsters I’ve seen, actually.

Another game in which you can fight animated potatoes is Void Tyrant by Quite Fresh, a 2019 roguelite for smartphones. There you face Potators, humanoid potato figures (type IIIa) who look like, surprise, potatoes with arms and legs. Apart from trying to bash in your skull they hand you potatoes that clutter your card deck. Not the greatest of concepts, but it fits the not too serious tone of the game.

Callous Carrots

“Vegetarian Odd Fellows: or, Carrolt and Pa-Snip” by John Leech (1817–1864) via lookandlearn.com (CC0 1.0).

They don’t look especially menacing, do they? What if they’re two metres long with centipede-like legs and mandibles? And we can extend this category to other Apiaceae to include parsley and parsnip. If you’ve ever grown parsnip you might know that it contains furanocoumarins. These are compounds that react with your skin under sunlight and cause inflammation. See the potential there?

Carrots have also been utilized in Dungeons of Dredmor, taking form of an upturned carrot walking on its leaves (type I). They appear later than the potatoes, so presumably they are more powerful, but I haven’t met them yet.

A carrot monster from Seekers Notes. All rights reserved to Mytona.

There’s a secret object and puzzle game called Seekers Notes, mainly for phones. It’s not combat oriented, but there are enemies you have to beat to advance the story and grind items. There are changed seasonally, and in Spring of 2025, the theme was apparently Vegetable Uprising. One of the enemies is Rebellious Carrot, a type IIIa carrot with humanoid features, holding a pitchfork. You need a special peeler to dispose of it in the game. Although cartoonish, this is a solid example of what this article is about.

Karrotten as seen in the in-game Encyclopedia of Seven Kingdoms. All rights reserved to Enlight Software and Interactive Magic.

A different take can be seen in Seven Kingdoms, an RTS by Enlight Software. In this 1997 game we find the Fryhtans, a collection of monster races. One of these are the Karrotten, a type IV species of magically created carrot-people. Not much background is provided, but it shows that even in an otherwise mostly serious setting there can be place for monster veggies.

Several mutated specimens of carrot. All rights reserved to Mike Burns and Wizards of the Coast.

There’s also a nice example of what are presumably mutated carrots in Magic: the Gathering set Unfinity. We see what looks like a worm or naga, a tentacular beast, and a sort of hydra. So two of type IIIa and one type I. The card says they have Deathtouch, which is an ability that makes damage lethal no matter the amount and the toughness of the defender. This could mean they are venomous, so we get once again to the produce monsters’ potential toxicity.

Terrible Tomatoes

The main stars of several parody B movies, killer tomatoes are one of the less usable produce-based monsters. It would be very hard to use them as they featured in the movies (or at least the first one, of which I have seen a few minutes) in any kind of at least partly-serious campaign. Even in parody games you could do better. In Attack of the Killer Tomatoes they are just enlarged tomatoes that beat people to death. A better way to use tomatoes would be to treat them as any other fruit or vegetable mentioned in this article – even type I could be done better than that.

The Sun-Zapped Tomato from Seeker’s Notes (see above) is a better example. It’s a levitating giant tomato with an annoyed look. Due to the nature of the game we don’t have any stats. It is described as an ever-complaining bore declaring itself king of the patch. Maybe this one could be an NPC instead of a monster? To banish it you need a special Tomato Salt, so there we have a weakness as well (salt!).

A tomato monster from Seekers Notes. All rights reserved to Mytona.

Below is nice type IIIb tomato monster found in an art asset pack I bought. It resembles a spider, or the spider-head things (from The Thing). The image doesn’t indicate scale, but I think it would make a nice monster whether tomato-sized or larger. I would lean towards it being quite large, with the tomato part being perhaps 5-6 feet in diameter.

Tomato spider by Chaoclypse from a pay-what-you-want art pack. It’s a nice design and I gladly paid the suggested price for the pack. I’ll use the other artworks elsewhere, I guess.

Pitiless Pumpkins

A classic, animated pumpkins and pumpkin-based monsters are a staple of Halloween-themed content. Pumpkins come in many shapes, enabling a lot of variety, but the most iconic Connecticut field pumpkin is probably the one that comes to your mind right now. It’s not uncommon for pumpkins to be “enemy-sized” even when they aren’t enlarged somehow. Pumpkins also grow on vines, so you don’t have to worry about having to explain why they possess limbs – they’re modified vines, of course. I’ve seen examples of types I and IIIa, but it’s not hard to imagine a type II as well. Type IV, or pumpkin people, are quite common in fiction, though they are usually some other sort of monster, such as fey or undead. I won’t give pumpkins any more space, because although I like the idea very much, it’s very ubiquitous across genres and media.

Perilous patissons

Patissons or pattypans or are a sort of summer squash that used to be quite popular in Central and Eastern Europe. They have a curious shape resembling a pie or a flying saucer, and there are also “fingered” cultivars. Belonging to the Cucurbita family they offer pretty much similar option as pumpkins.

Until recently I believe there were no patissons used as a base for a creature. That changed with this blog post by Paizo, so kudos to them and a memo to myself not to loiter when I write (I started writing this in January 2024). The Pattypan of Gold Bits is presumably a gourd leshy by Pathfinder 2e taxonomy, i.e. a plant creature summoned by a fey or a druid. Or type IIIa when keeping to the categories of this article. Gourd leshys are actually a fine solution to this type of monster produce. You just have to change a few bits if you want a different vegetable. Maybe borrow fungus leshy’s Spore Cloud for a onion-based leshy.

Obnoxious Onions

If you cry while cutting onions, you might want to avoid these. All well known irritants, the Allium family offers several different candidates for new monsters. Onion, shallot, and garlic have large bulbs and long leaves, while leek, scallion, chives, and wild relatives such as ramsons, are mostly leaves.

Onion shaped monster — Bulbor from Void Tyrant. All rights reserved to Quite Fresh.

There’s quite a few option with the onion family that can build on their irritating volatile compounds, whether in the form of a skin acting poison or noxious vapours. These can be released on demand or perhaps on being hit.

Onions have been used in Void Tyrant as well, in the form of Bulbors, a type IIIa monster. As with Potators, these little smelly fellows hand out vegetables while trying to kill you.

Apparently, there is a Malaysian animated series for kids called BoBoiBoy from 2011, where there’s a villain aptly named Onion Monster. Its powers include noxious gas.

Tormenting Turnips

Do you know what people used to carve Jack-o’-lanterns before pumpkins? That’s right, turnips or rutabagas. You might have seen photos of sweet little faces such as the one below. Imagine it with a little torso, arms, and legs, wielding improvised weaponry such as kitchen knives, meat tenderizers, or a good old shillelagh – a band of turnip goblins terrorizing the countryside makes for a nice low-level threat. They would fall under type IIIa.

Turnip with carved out eyes and mouth — An early 20th century turnip Jack-o’-lantern from the Museum of country life, Ireland. All rights reserved to rannṗáirtí anaiṫnid.

Used in Dungeons of Dredmor their turnip-based monsters come with names such as Murderous Rutabaga or Ancient Rutabaga. They have some toxic properties that would perhaps fit better with radishes than rutabagas, but otherwise fit quite well into the overall theme of the game and its vegetable foes as a type I.

Swede is another name for rutabaga, and it’s been made into a monster by Czepeku for one of their battlemaps here. It looks like a man-sized type IIIa that’s been cut in half on a kitchen table. Hopefully it wasn’t friendly. While this is a very simple form of monster produce, it can be very effective as a foe. And also as an NPC, if you take inspiration from similar looking radishes (see below).

Ravenous Radishes

Radishes come in many forms – the small European red ones that are called summer or spring radishes, and the winter radishes comprising the larger varieties such as black radishes, daikon, and other Asian radishes. All of them are pungent and to some degree spicy, with European radishes being usually milder than the likes of daikon or black radishes. I believe we can bundle their relative, the horseradish, with the radishes, and let it take the first place in sharpness.

Sharpness is the key when we’re talking about radish monsters, so we have a similar arsenal as with onions. Radishes could however be sturdier built, and more earthy than leafy.

There are several examples from media where radish is used as a base for a creature. In the excellent Spirited Away by Studio Ghibli there’s the Radish Spirit, appearing as a large and benevolent bipedal daikon. Though it was a presumably unique spirit and not there to fight anyone, one can see the appeal of a hulking humanoid-shaped root vegetable. Either used as an NPC, or as a monster to be fought in a vegetable dungeon.

Large bipedal being based on daikon — Radish Spirit from Spirited Away. All rights reserved to Studio Ghibli, image taken from the Ghibli Wiki.

Lethal Lettuce

Lettuce, what a bland vegetable in itself. Add a bit of salt and vinegar and it’s more appetizing. Add some magic or mutagens and it’s a murderous organic drapery waiting for some unlucky soul to get too close. The leaves suggest engulfing foes, or flying, possibly both at the same time. Imagine a giant romaine lettuce flying through the night sky, dropping unsuspected on its prey, killing it by suffocation within the folds of its leaves. Or perhaps using some toxin or digestive acid, why not? Or the same lettuce hanging in the forest canopy above a path, waiting for solitary travelers.

Finally, a cabbage monster from Seekers Notes. All rights reserved to Mytona.

The screen above is once again from Seekers Notes. The highest tier of vegetable monsters in the game is this type IIIa raging cabbage. It’s using an onion as a weapon, and to banish it you need a Gold Grater. It seems quite bulky, built like a golem. Usable as both an enemy and an NPC.

End of part I

There’s a lot you can do with produce as a base for your monsters, or even sentient species. While some players might dismiss them as too nonsensical, I believe when done right they can be an interesting way to liven up your bestiaries. As a DM you know your players (or at least you should), so you probably know what they will like.

These creatures, whether you’re using them only as fireball fodder, or as important NPCs, will broaden your options. You can base them on existing features of real plants, or add new traits that they have evolved or received. Make your party wade through ketchup for once instead of gore!

I would also like to announce that I am working on a produce-themed supplement, part of which will be a bestiary! CLICK HERE to get a free WIP sample!

So that’s it for part I! This article has been on my table for more than a year, and it was starting to get a bit stale. I also feel it would be better to put fruits in a separate article. Get ready for some fruity foes in part II!

D&D Lorwyn: Cosmology and Timeline

In case you haven’t heard, Wizards of the Coast have announced in late February that a new sourcebook is in works. It will resurrect the dual plane Lorwyn-Shadowmoor from Magic: The Gathering, released back in 2007-2008. There was the Lorwyn block, comprised of Lorwyn and Morningtide, and the Shadowmoor block, consisting of Shadowmoor proper and Eventide.

I wanted to dedicate a series of articles to MtG with focus on those two blocks, but Wizards beat me to it with their announcement. There’s no release date so far, so I’ll go for it anyway and write my thoughts, expectations and speculations. I am really looking forward to the end product and wish the team behind it luck. Lorwyn-Shadowmoor is a great setting and should not be left to rot.

Lorwyn-Shadowmoor is clearly inspired by British Isle folklore. It shows in the language, themes, and aesthetic, but it was never marketed in this manner. The creators probably wanted to create a setting influenced by folklore and fairy tales, not build a setting around folklore.

In this article, hopefully first of many, I will describe some of the cosmological aspects of Lorwyn-Shadowmoor in regard to Dungeons and Dragons. There are my speculations on the place of the plane in the multiverse(s), and inevitably a quite large part on the timeline. I wanted to get these out of the way before I start writing about more specific topics, such as the various denizens of the plane.

Dual plane

Lorwyn and Shadowmoor are unique in that they’re two sides of one setting. A dual plane changing periodically because of the Great Aurora. Originally a recurring event orchestrated every few centuries by Oona, queen of the fairies.

Many such events have happened apparently, until the last one (the one we see in the MtG blocks). That one was not caused by Oona, to her great unease and discomfort, but rather brought by the Great Mending. The Great Mending is an important event in the Magic multiverse that I will not describe here. Concerning Lorwyn and Shadowmoor the fact that it happened should be enough.

Due to the dualistic nature of the setting, almost everything in Lorwyn has its darker counterpart in Shadowmoor. Lorwyn is a cozy rural fairy tale fantasy inspired by the British Isle folklore. The sun always shines there and even the storms are a made of light instead of pouring rain.

Shadowmoor is the opposite, it is always dark and hostile. It still retains the fairy tale tone, but warm and cozy is replaced with harsh and gloomy. The denizens of Shadowmoor are mostly bereft of their good sides, with their flaws amplified.

The duality of the plane is best seen when the change is part of the equation. Without the Great Aurora the plane is either an idyllic rural haven, or a folk horror darkland. Both have their merits, but a large part of the potential is lost when only one aspect is experienced.

Cosmology

What I am quite interested in is the way Wizards will handle the plane in relation to D&D cosmology. Both multiverses feature planes, but they are not connected.

MtG Multiverse

Based on the Planeshift series my guess is there will be no overlap with Lorwyn either. Rules will be given for playing D&D set in the plane, but you will be expected to act within the MtG multiverse. That’s fine in my book, it makes more sense to travel from Lorwyn to Innistrad, than jump between Lorwyn and Sigil, or one of the many worlds of the Prime Material plane.

In the Magic multiverse one thing you have to consider is that travel between the planes is not easy. Usually the power called “planeswalker’s spark” is required, and the individuals in possession of the spark are known as “planeswalkers”. It takes time and effort to master the spark, so the planeswalkers that could travel to Lorwyn should be fairly high-level.

This changes after another large event in the MtG universe, the Phyrexian Invasion of the Multiverse. One of the the results is that many planeswalkers lost their planeswalking powers. Instead, newly created portals called “omenpaths” now exist, enabling even non-planeswalkers to travel from plane to plane. So the accessibility of interplanar travel depends on your timeline, but more on that later.

D&D Multiverse

Suppose you only wanted to use Lorwyn-Shadowmoor in your campaign. You are using the “default” D&D cosmology, also known as the Great Wheel. From the outside in there are several layers of planes. The Positive and Negative planes are the outermost, then there’s the Astral plane wrapped around the Outer planes, with all the alignment-based fun stuff.

The Inner planes are encased in the Elemental chaos, then there’s the Ethereal plane, and nestled safely in the middle is the (Prime) Material plane. That’s where most of the adventures usually happen, whether it’s on Toril, Krynn, Greyhawk or what have you. Somewhere near the Prime there are the Feywild and Shadowfell, and those are the ones whose relation to Lorwyn-Shadowmoor would need to be resolved.

The Great Wheel as depicted in the Dungeons & Dragons 5th edition Player’s Handbook. All rights reserved to Wizards of the Coast and/or other respective owners.

Personally I would handle Lorwyn as a crystal sphere similar to Realmspace, or Greyspace. One heavily influenced by Feywild in the past, but perhaps cut off since then. Maybe Oona, the queen of fairies is the culprit, seeking dominion and independence in her own plane without intervention from home. That would explain both the influence and isolation, and go well with Oona’s theme of manipulative schemer. But all this depends on another detail of the D&D adaptation, and that is the timeline.

Timeline

The aspect of the plane would dictate much of the tone and play style of any prospective game. There’s actually quite a lot of possible scenarios depending on the timeline the creative team chooses. I believe it makes most sense to present readers with all of the options. They’re making a setting supplement, not a short zine, so there should be plenty of space for that. Everything depends on whether they want to set a particular scenario forth as “canon for D&D play”, or whether they want to give as much freedom as possible.

Before the blocks

The earliest and possibly largest period imaginable would be the one before the Lorwyn block. A time when the aspects were being flipped every couple of centuries by queen Oona and nothing out of the ordinary happened. Or did it?

Prequels are often used and abused by creators to fluff out already established franchises. When done right it can add depth and explain some things that were left unexplained in the original story. When overdone it can lead to the past being more crowded than the main story, and that is not always desirable.

In this scenario we would find some of the more long-lived characters from the blocks, but there would also be plenty of space for new ones. It would give the creators a lot of freedom, and they have the luxury of the Great Aurora effectively resetting almost everything. That gives a lot of leeway for even quite deep plots as long as it’s something Oona can kill with the Aurora.

Lorwyn block

The first two sets of the Lorwyn-Shadowmoor cycle are Lorwyn and Morningtide. The plane is in its bright and sunny aspect, and there is an overall playful mood throughout. The elves are the public villains, and Oona and her fairies the villains in the shadows.

I will not recount the whole story here, you can read it on the MTG Wiki if you like. Just a few remarks. Since there already is a “main story” for the Lorwyn block, there remains less of the freedom for the team working on the new D&D book.

It’s not easy to fit new stories alongside a strong existing main story. In Star Wars such things are possible thanks to the breadth of the universe. In Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings this would be more difficult. In the case of the latter there’s an amazing achievement in the form of the War in the North video game, but such feats are rare.

Shadowmoor block

Shadowmoor was introduced in the eponymous set along with Eventide. The plane has now been shifted by the Great Aurora, and it’s not for the better. Not only almost everyone lost their memories and their good sides. Oona herself is perplexed by the Aurora, as this one wasn’t her doing. In the end Oona’s chokehold on the plane was broken and a new era begins.

A lot of what was applicable to the Lorwyn block story is the same with the Shadowmoor block. There is a story and it might be difficult to squeeze in other worthwhile content without it coming off as secondary. But it can be managed and surely some groups would be able to pull off a nice campaign.

post-Shadowmoor / pre-Phyrexia

The events of the Shadowmoor block leave the plane in a new state, without the constant shifts of aspect. There are no more Great Auroras and a normal daily cycle is restored. The plane should be more or less in its Lorwyn aspect with a few remnants of Shadowmoor. That sounds like a fun mix that’s not all gloomy but still has some darker elements.

After the events of Shadowmoor and Eventide Oona has been dethroned and supplanted by Maralen, though still alive. The elf Maralen is now queen of the fairies and supposedly is going to rule differently. The fairies will probably remain mostly as they were, but we can presume the other tribes will exist in both aspects in this scenario. So we get both kind and xenophobic kithkin, playful and monstrous boggarts, despotic and virtuous elves. The extra Shadowmoor smaller tribes might also stay. It could really mean many cool options for your tabletop campaign.

If there’s only one “canon” scenario, this one would make the most sense to me. Being a sequel there’s a lot to go forth from, and no danger of retroactively stripping logic from already published materials. The only established event concerning the plane of Lorwyn is the one in the next paragraph, and that one should not cause any problems.

Phyrexian invasion

Phyrexia is MtG’s version of hell, a world of machine-and-flesh monstrosities lusting for the whole multiverse to devour and turn, or “compleat” in their own wording. There was an original Phyrexia in the older blocks, that was defeated, but not wholly eradicated. It took hold of Mirrodin (another great plane with a bunch of blocks and lots of great ideas) and transformed it into New Phyrexia, unleashing an invasion into every plane in the multiverse.

Lorwyn was not an exception, though the focus of the whole story arc was on other, more prominent planes. Lorwyn received only some fleeting mentions. Such is the fate of planes fifteen years dead to the franchise (at the time of Phyrexia: All Will Be One).

The few bits of information that we have tell us that Lorwyn was indeed invaded. There were those who fell to the lure of the Phyrexians, as we can see on the card above. Ultimately the tribes of the plane joined forces to fight back and resist the machine would-be-overlords. The invasion card art shows only elves, but we can see kithkin and presumably others joining in as well, including the wildlife.

The invasion of Lorwyn by the Phyrexians is another scenario well-suited for your D&D game. A whole campaign could be devised, starting with some early pre-invasion reconnaissance being responsible for trouble on the plane. Followed by full-scale invasion, during which perhaps the party would have some vital quest to help turn the tide. The possibilities here are again quite broad, both for the creative team and for the players.

post-invasion

After the invasion most of the planes invaded were destroyed to various extents. We know nothing of the casualties Lorwyn suffered, but since the Lorwyn invasion wasn’t mentioned too much, we could expect a fairly good result. Maybe we’ll get more information in the prepared supplement. It’s also a direction in which a lot of creative work could be done.

There is an opportunity to come up with some interesting worldbuilding, but it seems wasteful to me to set your game after the invasion. Sure, the rebuilding also has its charm, but from a D&D point of view, the Phyrexian invasion is something you want to be part of, when you’re not setting up your game in Lorwyn’s past.

One outcome of the Phyrexian defeat should be pointed out, however. During what’s called the “Desparking” many Planeswalkers lost their spark. At the same time omenpaths have opened, essentially the means of interplanar travel for non-planeswalkers. This opens the possibilities for parties of non-planeswalkers to visit Lorwyn. For example start playing on Zendikar and then travel to Lorwyn. Again, this is something that broadens your options significantly, but comes only after New Phyrexia is dealt with.

Conclusion

Well, the conclusion is obviously that it’s great Wizards are working on a Lorwyn-Shadowmoor supplement for Dungeons and Dragons. The plane has been neglected for too long, and making it available also for people like me, who are more into TTRPGs than TCGs, is a nice gesture.

I posited various questions and their possible solutions for the future supplement. It will be to interesting to see how the team handles them, or even if they do. Maybe what I’m considering isn’t really what’s important here?

Let me know in the comments what are your thoughts, and how would you handle the issues of possible scenarios and cosmology. Also, it’s entirely possible I’ve got some things wrong, as I’m by no means a MtG buff. Corrections are welcome, as well as suggestions, and any constructive discussion. What are your thoughts on the matters I described?

If you liked the article, your comments and sharing would mean a lot, and give me the necessary feedback. The article is quite long, at roughly 12 minutes reading time. Would you prefer articles of this length, or should I strive for more shorter ones in the future?

Last but not least, some disclaimers: Magic: the Gathering (and Dungeons & Dragons, for that matter) are property of the Wizards of the Coast. The cards embedded in the article are obtained via Scryfall with no foul intent. The content of this article benefits a great deal from the MTG Wiki. I am not affiliated with any of the above mentioned entities in any way.

Digging Better Dungeons – Palimpsest Dungeon

What is a Palimpsest Dungeon, why make one, and what can it offer? How to make one, even? All this and more can be found in this article.

Estimated reading time: 9 minutes

This post is part of a series analysing several aspects of one of the recognizable parts of the TTRPGs we all love – the dungeons. The posts can be read in any order and they will be cross-linked when necessary. Throughout the series (and also elsewhere) “dungeon” is used as a technical term and can be used to describe any clearly defined environment containing multiple non-random encounters. These include natural caves, mines, keeps and castles, crypts, temples, ships and other vehicles, and many others.

This part will be about a concept that lends depth, complexity, and also integrity to your dungeon designs. What is a Palimpsest Dungeon, why make one, and what can it offer? How to make one, even? All this and more can be found below.

Palimpsest

One idea I strongly encourage is “palimpsest dungeon”. This paraphrase of the “palimpsest landscape” concept from historical geography or landscape archaeology seems perfect for creating interesting multi-layered dungeons that make sense. A “palimpsest” is a manuscript that had it’s original writing removed by scraping or washing and then overwritten with new text. Remains of the original text can be sometimes deciphered either by eye or by using modern recovery methods.

In landscape archaeology landscapes are viewed as results of successive actions by humans that have shaped the land. These activities include agriculture, construction, warfare, funerary and religious practices, and resource exploitation. Sometimes the old is removed, sometimes reused in a different way. This may be conscious and deliberate, or accidental.

A good example of palimpsest landscape would be a great barrow, where a warlord’s remains are interred. Rites are conducted on the site for a few generations. A thousand years later the warlord is long forgotten, and the local ruling class starts burying their dead around the barrow. Though of a different religion, they raise a shrine on top of the barrow and observe their own traditions there. After a generation the land is conquered and the conquerors strive to replace the religion present in the region. They remove the shrine and build their own on top of the barrow. After some events it becomes a site of pilgrimage, and a small temple complex is built surrounding the barrow. During construction some of the graves are unearthed and removed, but those untouched by foundation ditches remain. Eventually the site becomes abandoned, its purpose forgotten. New settlers come into the region and a small hamlet sprouts around the windmill built on a convenient mound.

Researchers “read” the landscape from the present backwards. Same as would a visiting party if they arrived in the hamlet described above. You on the other hand have to go from the beginning, setting the layers upon each other as you would a layer cake. With parts of layers missing, pockets of different stuff, and strange combinations. While you better not serve a cake like that to your birthday guests, your party should find it much more intriguing than a 20-centimeter high corpus of sponge.

Palimpsest dungeon

The same principle can (and should) be applied to dungeons. The “typical dungeon”, a complex of underground rooms and corridors, usually isn’t encountered in its original state. The mines were abandoned and overrun with monsters, goblinoids conquered the dwarven city, the once peaceful crypt has been taken over by a necromancer, etc. The layer encountered by the PCs is at least the second one, if not third or fourth. Even in a functioning dwarven underground city there might be parts that lay on top of older layers – old mine tunnels reused as fungus plantations, in turn overrun by mushroom-loving lizardmen.

Having more layers gives you depth on one hand, enabling more complex backstories, but also more options regarding the exploration of the dungeon. Old unused passages might offer shortcuts if found, burrowing monsters might create connections where there were none. Ancient temple underneath a crypt/monster lair/mine is an often used trope. And it makes sense.

Places are often settlet or used for a reason (no surprise there). That reason often stays valid for centuries, whether it’s military importance, environmental features, logistics, or anything cultural. On the surface, when we’re talking landscape, it’s obvious – hills, natural harbours, fertile fields, all these make sure a location will be settled again and again. With dungeons it’s similar. Natural caves will have their climate and water systems that make some areas more hospitable than others. Artificial dungeons were dug out and built with a specific purpose in mind, and this can be seen also by later inhabitants, even if used differently. Prison cells are effectively bedrooms, just not very comfortable. With some work a prison block can be used for living, especially if the beings living there are not too picky.

You might have already guessed that by creating all these layers you are in effect creating a series of dungeons with a common framework, but different contents. Not only it’s a fun exercise, you can also use these in different campaigns or with different groups.

Before you start making a palimpsest dungeon you probably have a few layers in your mind, possibly the latest one and the first one, or the most significant one. For a castle ruin it would be the present ruined state and the most interesting phase of its occupation, though there might be many different phases you want to take into account. Next you want to ask yourself questions such as “What happened between this and this?” or “How did it come to this?”, “What preceded this?”. During this process you might come up with further events leading to more layers.

Or not, not every dungeon needs to be multi-layered. Some dungeons in the sense of this article series aren’t meant to be palimpsests. You could treat a spaceship, or even a seafaring ship as a dungeon, and it would probably have just a single layer. Unless we’re discussing some kind of generation ship, or the Ship of Theseus. A tomb that’s been sealed since the burial also needn’t have more layers. It could be untouched by robbers, monsters, or anything else. The important thing to keep in mind is, as always, logic and consistency.

Keeping track

When designing a palimpsest dungeon it’s easy to lose yourself in all the layers. Especially in more complex and expansive dungeons it wouldn’t do to just note somewhere what the two or three layers are – you might have tens of layers, some only present in one room, others common for the entire dungeon.

One way of keeping track is by labeling layers with a numerical code and making diagrams when necessary. You can find inspiration in the Harris matrix archaeologists use when describing contexts. Do you need to? Absolutely not, particularly not when you’re just preparing a one-shot dungeon for the Friday session with your friends. You might consider using stuff like this if you’re going to publish the dungeon, or if the dungeon is going to appear more than once in different scenarios.

a schematic showing different layers of a multi-layer "palimpsest dungeon" — Dungeon matrix for the Muddy Frog Camp, a dwarven mining and trading settlement.

Above is the matrix for a functioning dwarven settlement. Read from the bottom it shows the history of the site in chronological order. From top to bottom the order in which the party might uncover the past is shown. A more detailed overview will have its own article. Right now I can see that when creating the mine section of Muddy Frog Camp, I can use different layers from its past to flesh it out and create interesting encounters and environs. Traces of human mining activities, monster and animal bones, remains of animal enclosures. Creating the matrix (and past of the site) didn’t take that much time, but you can probably see the benefits already. The layers do not represent fixed time periods, one might span five centuries while another merely a few years. Some might also be invisible in the record, for example the mushroom farm or pond in our example, while others might leave a lasting and very clearly distinguished. The more permanent built-up areas such as the temple or goblin fortress are an example of lasting marks.

It is also possible to create a room by room matrix, and depending on the size of your dungeon, it might be a really extensive task. Again, if you’re going to publish your work, or reuse the dungeon in different phases of the campaign or different campaigns, it might be worth the time and effort. Otherwise the dungeon matrix above should be more than enough to help you create and keep track of your dungeon.

Conclusion

Palimpsest dungeon is a concept based on palimpsest landscape. Both describe the results of different consecutive periods of activity in an area, that build upon and sometimes replace the past activities. This creates a multi-layered environment that has depth, consistency, and a logical structure. The layers might be easily readable or only faintly detectable, both cases being useful for creating history and narrative.

To help with keeping track a “dungeon matrix” is proposed – essentially a diagram showing the layers of the palimpsest dungeon and its key characteristics. It is also possible to make a more detailed room-scaled matrix, but in many cases this leads to diminishing returns, as the amount of time and effort required would be inadequate to the benefits.

The terms “dungeon palimpsest” and “dungeon matrix” will be used on this site in future posts, so I hope you paid attention and that the explanations were sufficient. A post dedicated to the model Muddy Frog Camp is on the way, in which I will try to provide a more detailed overview of the whole process of planning, designing, and recording of the dungeon. Hopefully you found this article stimulating, I will be glad for any comments here in the comment section, or wherever you saw this shared. As always, thank you for reading, and if you liked the article, please share it on your social media!

Digging Better Dungeons – Size matters

Estimated reading time: 9 minutes

This post is part of a series analyzing several aspects of one of the recognizable parts of the TTRPGs we all love – the dungeons. The posts can be read in any order and they will be cross-linked when necessary. Throughout the series (and also elsewhere) “dungeon” is used as a technical term and can be used to describe any clearly defined environment containing multiple non-random encounters. These include natural caves, mines, keeps and castles, crypts, temples, ships and other vehicles, and many others.

This part will be about dungeon size. Why does it matter, what should it be based on, and what other aspects of gameplay should be based on it. And of course I will mention megadungeons as well.

The Crypt of a Church with Two Men Sleeping by Hendrick van Steenwijck the Younger.

Dungeon scale

How large should a dungeon be? Obviously that should correspond with the needs of your story and plot, but let’s say you have that figured already. Then the size depends on the dungeon – a small local monastery will be different from a regional centre of an order, as will an emperor’s tomb differ from that of a struggling merchant. Some places should be smaller than people expect, while others are often imagined too simplistically.

Often used as dungeons are various underground settlements, whether it’s a dwarven delve, or a goblinoid den. The space required would depend on the social structure of the inhabitants, and the range and scope of activities present. Though it is by no means a rule, more (economically) complex societies usually take up more space. In less complex societies there might be little to no distinction between communal areas, food preparation areas, work areas, and sleeping quarters. Your primitive goblins might occupy a couple of natural caves with only one of them different from the others, taken by their leader. In contrast a dwarven delve would have many separate sections with different purposes, and you probably wouldn’t find a craftsman preparing food in the same room he works in. Even a workshop could have multiple rooms or even levels, and of course housing could range from Spartan-style cubicles to lavish many-roomed residences. Fifty goblins might take up three to four caves, while fifty dwarves might use three to four rooms per unit just as housing (family or individual). Best keep that in mind when designing settlements.

What about tombs? It really depends on their purpose, among other things. When a tomb serves only to inter the remains of a deceased person, you don’t need a lot of rooms – maybe one burial chamber and some room(s) for burial goods, even though these can take up a lot of space in some cases. It is different if the tomb is a place where rituals are still performed – the number of rooms can grow if you have to accomodate the living as well as the dead. Below is a map of the Valley of Kings, where you can see the plans of each tomb. A more detailed interactive version can be found on this great site.

Map of the Valley of Kings with miniature tomb plans — Map of the Valley of Kings in Egypt with miniature tomb plans. All rights reserved to Journey to Egypt and/or other respective owners.

With this we get to temples and shrines. Again a temple needn’t consist of a great number of rooms. A main room (think nave in churches, or naos in Ancient Greek temples) is quite enough for many forms of worship. Often some additional rooms such as a shrine or sacristy will be present. If the temple is part of a monastery, the room count will be significantly higher – a monastery for 15 monks can easily have around 70 rooms, including spaces like gardens.

Plan of a Carthusian monastery — Plan of the Lapis Refugii Carthusian monastery in Slovakia. For the descriptions and lots of other information visit the site. All rights reserved to Kláštorisko, c.a. and/or other respective owners.

Room categories

Let’s say you make a dungeon with 20 rooms and only three are vital to the quest, and maybe another five you can imagine as optional. In a very simplified treasure hunt the three would be the key room, the guard room and the treasure room. You have to get the key, then defeat the guard and then take the treasure. Along the way you would find optional rewards or encounters. But there should be more rooms than those, simply because that’s how it would be. In a castle there would be living quarters, kitchens, dining rooms, bathrooms, armories, storerooms, music rooms, libraries and studies, workshops, and a whole lot more that needn’t be part of the quest. But they of course could be. An enemy from an important room might flee to an originally unimportant one, but now the bathroom has purpose as well. More rooms also means more potential for exploration, which some players might find more interesting than encounters.

It surely is a lot of work and it might seem like a waste of time if you don’t even plan on the party visiting the extra rooms. But like in the #Dungeon23 and #Dungeon24 challenges, rooms don’t have to be described with twenty sentences each. Simple “pantry” or “servant bedroom, empty” will do, and you can always come up with something should the need arise. If the room wasn’t important in the first place, you needn’t make it too much detailed all of a sudden. Random charts and generators could help, but they make things, unexpectedly, random. So not for everyone and every setting.

When preparing a dungeon it is wise to note which rooms will be essential (main quest), which will be optional (side quests or bonus loot, lore, etc.), and which rooms are there because it makes sense, but they don’t have much to do with your adventure.

Room effectivity

Sometimes five well-crafted rooms offer more than three dozen dull ones. The amount of time the party spends on one room will of course vary. We can call this “room effectivity”. The important thing is to focus on productive time, i.e. time spent progressing with the plot, learning about the world, obtaining gear or resources. Not all combat encounters are productive, although they certainly can increase the time spent in a room.

Non-combat encounters increase room effectivity nicely. A prisoner in a cell, or a hermit angling for blind fish in an underground lake might offer clues, sidequests, or at least a nice change of pace from exploration. They can be revisited to fulfill some errand received (getting keys for the prisoner). Or the NPC encountered might have answers to something found further in the dungeon. The hermit might know a lot about his surroundings, even if he keeps to the lake. He might even know about another way into the underground city, now that the main tunnel is blocked.

Puzzles also count. We can divide them into two main groups – environmental puzzles, and designed puzzles. I will dedicate another article to puzzles entirely, so here I will just say that by designed puzzles you can understand various mechanisms that have to be overcome for something to happen – these often don’t make sense in a dungeon. The environmental variety is created by circumstances and environment. When the drawbridge is broken the party needs to find another way across the chasm, perhaps using stuff found around. Both varieties increase room effectivity and therefore the time spent in the dungeon.

One of the worst puzzles in Atlantis: The Lost Tales by Cryo. All rights reserved to Cryo Interactive Entertainment and/or other respective owners.

Megadungeons

One of the issues I’d like to address, especially since this series of articles is based around the challenge aiming to create a megadungeon (see Dungeon 24). Megadungeon is a concept that promises sessions upon sessions of exploration and encounters. It’s one thing to create room after room, level after level, filled with whatever seems interesting at the moment, and another thing for the whole to make sense. What’s the relation between levels 2 and 10? How do they (that is, their inhabitants) interact? Why are there 12 (or 50) levels, anyway? Why is there an elven tomb sandwiched between an orc fortress and dwarven mine?

Settlements can easily give you a lot of rooms – a small community of intelligent beings can occupy hundreds of rooms. I suggested earlier that structures with lots of similar rooms such as settlements, necropolises, or prisons, are good as a backbone for your megadungeon. Be careful not to overdo it by making the whole dungeon one large prison with hundreds of similar cells, or a large dormitory with copy-paste rooms. First of all keep in mind that even such places needn’t be completely uniform in their design, even if only thanks to time and use. Misuse, decay, and damage can also bring variety to an otherwise repetitive spaces.

One thing that makes megadungeons believable, interesting, and less randomly put together is a concept I’m borrowing (and reverse-engineering) from landscape history researchers, such as landscape archaeologists and historical geographers. I call it “Palimpsest Dungeon” and there will be a whole article dedicated to this, so I will keep it rather short here.

UPDATE: There is now an article covering the concept of Palimpsest Dungeon, just click the link!

The core principle is that a Palimpsest Dungeon has multiple succesive layers (not levels!) that overlap. Each one can change the one(s) below in its entirety or just partially, and new qualities can emerge from the interactions of these layers. This way you can get a dungeon that is ancient, extensive, and full of things to explore without it looking like you just wanted to create a massive dungeon.

Conclusion

Regarding dungeon size first and foremost think how large it should be while still making sense. Don’t create temples that have hundreds of rooms just because you want the dungeon to last a few sessions. Either use sensible sized dungeons (whether it’s a tomb, temple, mine, whatever) and maybe make the exploration and encounter parts more complex. Use non-combate encounters and puzzles to make the dungeon last longer. Or create a Palimpsest Dungeon with multiple overlapping layers, if you absolutely need to have 18 levels and 486 rooms.

What’s your take on Dungeon Size? Do you prefer sensible dungeons, or just want lots of rooms to explore and defile? Are you perhaps one of those rare characters who strive to create expansive dungeons that make sense? Leave a comment and share with your friends!

Frozen Horrors

Liked True Detective: Night Country? What about the Thing? Let’s take a look at some other works in similar vein and I will briefly describe the setting or subgenre I call “Frozen Horror”.

Estimated reading time: 13 minutes

It’s been over a week since the Season 4 finale of True Detective by HBO, and it’s been a thoroughly enjoyable ride this past few weeks. Maintaining the high quality writing and production values of the series, the last season takes us to the fictional Alaskan town of Ennis. This is where you might consider stopping reading if you haven’t seen the show, yet. I’m not going to go into any details of the plot, but some technical spoilers might appear. And further down there might be spoilers for other works, so walk softly.

A few minutes into True Detective: Night County.
All rights reserved to HBO and/or other respective owners.

With the exception of Season 2 True Detective always contained elements of supernatural mystery. Season 4 ramps this up quite significantly and due it feels like a mystery/horror series rather than a crime series most of the time. The structure also seems very usable as an inspiration for a tabletop adventure. I can already see an outline with several dungeons and encounters.

Due to its setting there is a resemblance to other works, and I mean it in the most positive sense. The season fits into a category I call “Frozen Horror” and this article will cover that. I will share my thoughts about the characteristics, things that make it unique and that can be used in your game. Afterwards I will provide a short overview of some works that I consider Frozen Horror.

Frozen Horror themes

There are certain themes that are essential for the Frozen Horror feel and I will outline their potential for your games here.

Adverse weather

First of all it’s the adverse weather. We’re dealing with polar areas where outside temperatures fall deep below zero. While this is obviously not an insurmountable obstacle (even more so in a fantasy setting), it sets some rules and boundaries. To stay outside most of the time you need good winter clothes. What if you have no access to them for a reason? Or if they get torn to shreds by a monster attack? Many surfaces get slippery due to ice, and handling equipment without necessary precautions can also be tricky – swords can freeze in their scabbards for example, and some liquids can freeze in their containers.

Low visibility

Snow storms can be fatal even when properly clothed, and this can be used to control when and where can the party go, if you have need for such things. With snow storms there is also the danger of low visibility. All sorts of monsters can move at pike’s length unseen and unheard by the characters due to a raging snow storm. Distress signals, burning settlements, and magical effects can also be hidden by a storm.

Long periods of darkness

If your world is a planet with Earth-like properties or similar season arrangement there are regions where night lasts for weeks at specific times of the year. The resulting darkness of a polar night can be oppressive, depressing, and bring all sorts of trouble – light-sensitive monsters are free to roam, light-based magic might not work as well while dark arts might grow in potency, solar technology is effectively disabled. An interesting twist is the opposite state or polar day, but that has a whole different set of implications. Either way it sets a timeframe for the plot. Things might get better after the long night passes, or perhaps something has to be done before it passes, or even worse things will arrive.

Remoteness and isolation

Another heavily prominent feature of Frozen Horror is the remoteness and isolation experienced throughout the story. These works take place at the edges of settled regions, at remote outposts separated by barren wasteland, or during expeditions into unknown lands. Help and support is often unreachable due to distance, weather conditions, lack of suitable transportation, or a combination of all mentioned. This is even more effective if there’s a specific need that can only be fulfilled elsewhere – the cure for a condition, research capacities, “silver bullets” for a specific monster. As with darkness this might set a timeframe, though differently. A supply ship might arrive only in certain intervals, or mountain passes might be snowed in for a good part of the year.

Frozen secrets!

And last but not least, there’s no Frozen Horror like one with frozen secrets! Whether it is some kind of disease or monster trapped in the ice, or forgotten structures and technology, it’s a classic. The ice might be thawing naturally, or there might be deliberate attempts to release or discover whatever it is that is frozen. Of course not everything that’s frozen is a menace, sometimes it’s the exact opposite. There might be technology, knowledge, or some power that the party needs. But there might be other things frozen with the desired goal, not as much desired.

A good Frozen Horror doesn’t have to include all of these themes, but often it does. Some of them are specific for a certain environment, some can occur elsewhere. You can be very remote and isolated in a desert, and a desert storm will provide low visibility, but there will be no natural long-term darkness (assuming an Earth-like world) and certainly no frozen secrets.

Next there are some examples that I have tried to keep short and without spoilers. There are certainly other works that could be given the Frozen Horror label, and I will be glad to read about them in your comments.

At the Mountains of Madness (1931)

The H.P. Lovecraft novella deserves to be mentioned first, as it’s the one that many others have taken inspiration from. It’s also one of the best works by HPL, and it should be on your reading list if you want to base your setting or adventure on Frozen Horror.

A modern illustration for the novel. All rights reserved to François Baranger.

At the Mountains of Madness tells the story of an Antarctic expedition. An accidental discovery leads to mysterious disappearances and deaths, and ultimately the protagonists find themselves in a lost city. Eons forgotten, the city reveals unsettling secrets, some of which are still alive and dangerous. Narrowly escaping with their lives (but not sanity) the heroes witness things too terrible to describe.

I’m being vague on purpose, because I really wouldn’t want to spoil this to anyone. Go read the novella as soon as you can, it’s public domain already! Lovecraft wrote it later in his career, so he already had an established mythos to reference and draw upon.

One can find themes of isolation and remoteness, and secrets frozen in the ice in At the Mountains of Madness. Even if Lovecraft wasn’t their creator he used those themes expertly. And as I mentioned before, he influenced further works immensely.

Who Goes There? (1938) and Frozen Hell (2019)

Who Goes There? was written by John W. Campbell and published in 1938. In 2018 an original longer manuscript was found and released in 2019 as Frozen Hell. I haven’t read either, but the new release is on my list. Since I can’t offer my own views, I’ll keep it short and only remind that this is the work The Thing was based on. When I get my hands on a copy of Frozen Hell, I’ll either update this post or maybe write a new one. Leave a comment if you have read it!

The Thing (1982)

For me this is it, the perfect example of Frozen Horror, and a top notch horror movie overall. I have seen different opinions, stating that The Thing is overrated. What do those people expect from a great horror movie that they didn’t find in the Carpenter masterpiece is a mystery to me. But hey, I don’t like some generally-accepted masterpieces either, so I accept it with only a little grudge.

The outpost at night with MacReady's cabin in the focus — MacReady’s cabin in the night. All rights reserved to Universal Pictures and/or other respective owners.

The 1982 adaptation of Who Goes There? by J.W. Campbell is set in Antarctic on a remote scientific base, where suddenly things go very wrong (these vague descriptions are a pain, but I wouldn’t like to spoil too much). There’s a lot of psychological horror, body horror made with perfect practical effects (certainly for the time), and an ambiguous ending. The setting ticks off all the hallmarks of a Frozen Horror, with remoteness and isolation, bad weather conditions, and frozen secrets being the most prominent.

It is perfectly adaptable to tabletop gaming, as many have done already. There is also a sequel video game and a prequel movie. If you liked The Thing, check them out as well, or at least read the following paragraphs.

There has also been an earlier adaptation of Campbell’s novella in 1951 under the title The Thing from Another World. I have not yet seen the movie and as with the book I don’t want to rant about it basing my knowledge on what I read on the internet. Therefore until I have the opportunity I will only mention it. As always comments if you’ve seen it are welcome!

The Thing (2002 game)

Intended as a direct sequel to the Carpenter movie, the game picks up right after the ending. It chooses one possible explanation for the ending as canon and elaborates from there.

Wallpaper from the game. All rights reserved to Konami and/or other respective owners.

In this 3rd person team-based action game you are Captain Blake, an US Special Forces operative sent with his team to investigate. Being an action game it offers a lot of shooting and jump scares. I remember when it was new I couldn’t play it myself because of the tense atmosphere and scariness, and instead watched as my dad played the game.

Even though it lacks the slow burn psychological stuff of the movie, the game gets many things right in my opinion. The events of the game don’t collide with what the movie started, or at least as far as I remember. I’ll have to play it myself for a deeper analysis, so expect an article on the game itself in the future. Meanwhile you can check this post by Syfy for some background information and plot synopsis, if you like.

30 Days of Night (2007)

Let’s take a break from The Thing and the Antarctic for a while and visit Alaska again. Based on a comic book 30 Days of Night takes place in Barrow, Alaska (now Utqiaġvik) during the polar night. The local events take a wrong turn after the arrival of a sinister cargo on a ship. The long polar night is central to the plot and you can make a guess what thrives in the long dark.

Oil plant in Barrow, AL — Barrow’s oil plant after night has fallen. All rights reserved to Columbia Pictures and/or other respective owners.

Once again the themes of remoteness, isolation, long period of darkness, and severe weather take the lead. After the movie a miniseries prequel (2007), sequel (2008), and also a direct-to-DVD movie sequel (2010) were made, but I haven’t seen those. The ratings make me a bit uneasy about spending my time on them, but do leave a comment if you have seen them!

The Thing (2011)

A prequel rather than remake to the 1982 Carpenter movie of the same name. I find it commendable that in an age of cheap remakes the creators instead elected to make a tie-in with the original movie. It is up to everyone’s judgement whether they succeeded.

The story is set right before the events of Carpenter’s Thing at another research station, this time Norwegian. You can watch the 1982 movie right after this one and the story will continue almost seamlessly.

Helicopter arriving at an antarctic base — All quiet at the Norwegian base. All rights reserved to Universal Pictures and/or other respective owners.

In my opinion it is not bad. There’s not exactly the level of mystery and suspense as in the 1982 movie, and it’s more predictable as far as I remember. There are similar themes, similar progression, you are aware that this has to do with the other movie all the time. Don’t expect any great novelty or originality, but it does what it aims to and it really feels more like a loving homage than a cash-grab remake.

Fortitude (2015-2018)

I have saved this one for the last, because it is one of my favourite shows, and also one that the latest True Detective series reminds me the most. Fortitude is set in a fictional town of the same name in Svalbard. The inhabitants are employed mostly as scientists, miners, or fishermen, plus the necessary services.

The first season is mostly a crime investigation show with little hints of mystery. With the second season Fortitude goes full mystery/horror with supernatural elements, and this is the season I find both most fun to watch and most usable TTRPG-wise. The latest True Detective series reminds me of this second season in a good sense, as I mentioned before. There is also a third season, but it’s inferior to the first two. It feels like an attempt to tie things up after being scrapped by the producers. What I find the worst about it is what happens to the characters. Formerly complex characters are flat in the last series and behave stupidly. And also it seems the creators tried to make everyone look bad. I’d say you can safely leave the third season out.

Two persons rappelling into an icy cave — What lies below the ice? All rights reserved to Sky Atlantic and/or other respective owners.

Fortitude has a great atmosphere overall and uses the themes I wanted to talk about really well. There is severe weather, darkness, isolation, various political and social tensions as well, and of course frozen secrets. The supernatural is well interwoven into the “normal” problems of an arctic settlement. The cast is very good and the characters and their motivations are well-written (until Season 3). As with True Detective: Night Country, there is a lot of potential for someone who would like to turn it into a tabletop adventure (or campaign).

Final remarks

What I call Frozen Horror (and you might call it differently) offers a unique experience, lately revived by the fourth season of True Detective. I have put some of my thoughts on the topic into this article, as well as some examples I would recommend. Of course there is more to each of them than the things I described – The Thing is a different story than 30 Days of Night. In this article I tried to point out some of the similarities that lie mainly in the environment and setting. I am eager to read your thoughts on this matter and perhaps your suggestions for other movies, TV shows, video games, etc. The more inspiration, the better.

I will also prepare separate articles about some of the media mentioned here. Requests and suggestions will be happily considered. If you found this post interesting, it would be great if you could share it with your friends. Comments are welcome, and don’t forget to follow the blog or our social media accounts for more content!

Dungeon 24: January

An abandoned prison block has been the focus of my January #dungeon24 effort. Check the summary here!

Estimated reading time: 3 minutes (10 with room descriptions)

It’s already February and I haven’t been always punctual with the daily rooms of my new (mega)dungeon. There is however a whole month’s worth of rooms in my notebook. In the first post I’ve only offered a teaser, so this one will be more detailed. For full descriptions of the rooms scroll to the end of the post.

As I mentioned earlier I chose an abandoned prison as a starting point. You can read the reasoning behind this in the first post so I won’t repeat myself here. On the provided map you can see two distinct sections that I have distinguished by a red filter. The left side is the original prison architecture as built (well, cut into rock) by its founders. The right (red) side is a more recent addition and hides a more sinister side to the place.

Dungeon plan for january — Finished January, one prison block plus secret recent addition.

There are several cells lining the main corridor, most of which are twinned, except for the two isolation cells. Several storerooms and utility closets are also present. In the centre of the main corridor loop there are workshops and the infirmary. Apparently the infirmary has been used as a sort of children’s room, if it’s to be judged from the furnishings. There is also a secret room that served as a shelter for two unlucky squatters.

The cells are for the most part devoid of anything interesting, with only a few stray coins and low-value items to be found inside them. Two humanoid skeletons can be found in the cells, with copper coin charms. There is a small shrine to an unknown deity fashioned from one twinned cell. The only static combat encounter is in one of the isolation cells, where a brine wraith (stats and description later) is imprisoned in a large jar.

The right side of the plan, accessible from the trolley utility room, consists of two interrogation/torture chambers, a room with a pit to lower levels, an alchemists workshop, and a mold garden. There’s not much to see there, but for a potion of water breathing in the workshop and some trinkets (and infection hazard) in the mold garden. The molds might be of use to an alchemist, herbalist, poisoner, or other persons of similar vocations.

The overall picture any explorer should be getting is that this part of the prison has been used by several squatters including children. At least 4 adults have been present, and their bodies can be found in various cells. The bodies in the mold garden are more recent. The prison block has then been abandoned again, except for the shrine, where relatively fresh food can be found as an offering.

Although not much is happening in this prison block, I tried to create a sense of mystery with the small details. Also an atmosphere of something sinister and ominous that took place in the block not too far in the past. I won’t be fleshing everything out right now, and I’m not going to add dynamic encounters just yet. As I mentioned before I am not a fan of making a dungeon on the run this way, so I will return to this part of the dungeon later. As the dungeon grows, so will my options to tie everything in.

February will be dedicated to another prison block. This time the area will be occupied. There will be some clues that would add to the snippets from January, and we’ll get a fuller picture. If you want to see where this is headed, be sure to follow our social media, where updates will be posted Thursdays. And as always, feel free to like, share, and comment!

Rooms

And now the complete room descriptions. Please note that these are almost verbatim (minus typos etc.) from the notebook I use and I definitely do not consider these well described. They are rather notes than descriptions, really.

Rock walls, one half of a larger room divided by rusty iron bars, closed iron bar door bound with coarse rope. T: wet rope on the floor, remains of an iron bucket in SW corner
Rock walls, second half of room 1, door missing, headles skeletal corpse in NE corner (orc). T: 14 cp, perforated and bound to various long bones and ribs
Another half of twin rooms, door closed and bound with coarse rope, inside are heaps of damp coil baskets of various sizes, from quart-sized to bushel-sized. T: very long and thorough search with DC35 yields 1 brass carpet needle stuck in one of the baskets
Twin with room 3, bars on W and S sides, stone wall N and E; in NE corner remains of a plain wooden cot with wet blanket scraps; door jammed (DC 25). T: 3 small stones, one partially finished humanoid figurine from the same material
Two twin cells rebuilt into one room by removing the central barred partition. It has an alcove dug into the N wall; in the alcove is a plain stone altar with several bowls and plates with food both old and fresh; also strips of paper, cloth, and leather with writings on them by different hands (5+). T: 1 small portion of edible food (subterranean), strips with prayers
Cell with small water-filled jars all ove the floor, door bound with coarse rope. T: one of the jars is silverware (2 gp)
Another cell with bound door, inside is a simple wooden cot, ceramic bowl and iron bucket; on the cot is a relatively clean and dry blanket. T: under the blanket is a small charm in the form of a baby seal made of ivory
Corner cell with jammed door (DC 20); inside is a cot with a blanket-wrapped skeleton of a human; next to the cot a bowl and a basket. T: 12 cp, perforated and worn by the skeleton as a necklace
Cell without a door; inside is a broken cot, 4 barred cell doors leaning on the E wall, and several mounds of debris. T: thorough search of the debris yields 1 perforated copper piece
Utility room, S wall lined with broom racks and other sanitary utensils mostly in bad shape; there is a stone sink in the NW corner covered with an iron grate. S: behind broom rack is a secret door, DC 15 when searching the rack
Utility room for trolleys, one broken is lying in SW corner; E wall covered by hanging rags, blankets, and raincoats on hooks. S: behind blankets on E wall is a secret door (DC 30)
Round shaft leading down with only a small promontory from the corridor
Rough-cut room behind iron-bound door; inside are various restraining devices – chains on walls, stocks, restraining chair. T: rucsty wicked-looking curved knife lying under the chair
In this rough-cut room there is only a single iron chair with shackles in the middle and several tables lining the walls; on the tables various tools and torture instruments can be found; a curtain bar is at the entrance, the curtain is missing. T: torture insturments; silver chain wrapped in dirty rag (1 gp)
The room looks better cut than others, there are four infirmary folding beds along the N wall and several cabinets along the S wall; half of the S wall is barred, there used to be a door to room 19, but it is lying nearby. The walls are covered with childrens’ drawings. T: articulated wooden dol with 1 arm missing
Workshop with several wool-processing worksations; there are various wool-processing tools scattered around (hackles, carders, combs), along with baskets and rotting clumps of wool. T: bone carding comb decorated with scrimshaw (1 gp)
Storeroom with broken shelves and crates, evidently looted. T: 2 stoneware oil bottles (1 quart each), firesteel, 1d6 rusty iron nails, several buckets, bowls, small flat chisel. S: secret door behind shelf, DC 15
Guardroom, an empty weapon rack on the N wall, table with chairs (all in bad shape) in the S part of the room, along with some shelves; E door is jammed (DC 40). T: 1d6 cp in various places; an 8-sided bone die, broken whetstone, 1 rotting shortsword scabbard
Doctor’s room adjacent to infirmary, converted to small dining room; cupboards used as pantries (some food remains), walls painted with faded paint; almost all medical equipment is gone. T: slightly bent scalpel, small forceps, bent needles
Chandler’s workshop; clumps of beeswax everywhere. T: 2d6 usable candles, few candlemaking resources
Isolation cell, door locked. Inside is a large jar with lid bound with multiple eelskin straps. E: brine wraith sealed in the jar, attacks immediately after opening the jar. T: abalone necklace in the jar (5 gp)
Isolation cell, door missing. Remains of several cots and buckets are piled inside along with a battered and broken oar from a galley. T: usable wooden pulley
Rough-cut room behind double doors. Inside is a mold garden – various colourful patches of mold growing on rotting pieces of furniture, ships, and carcasses – a goat, a large fish, 1 humanoid. The room is lit by crystal shards jammed into cracks in the walls and ceiling, resulting in a pinkish ambient light. Torches and other external light sources give only faint light in the presence of the crystals. T: the fish carcass can be searched for a silver brooch set with almandines (30 gp); the humanoid corpse has 1 gold tooth that comes out easily (1 gp). Manipulating the bodies is a risk, infection is highly possible (CON DC 25)
Rough-cut room that formerly served as an alchemy laboratory. Broken vessels and various instruments lie scattered on the floor and surfaces. T: 2 gp worth of common ingredients, mortar and pestle, 1 potion of water-breathing
Surprisingly clean cell with a cot, wooden chest, small shelf; the bars connecting it with its twin are covered with blankets. T: small leather pouch with needles and thread behind the chest, 1 brazen button under the cot
Twin cell to I/25, less clean but still in better shape than most others; bars covered with blankets. T: a worn iron shortspear in one corner
Hidden room (door DC 30) with 2 humanoid skeletons in embrace; around them are some small items. The inner door can’t be opened from the inside. T: iron key to I/21, firesteel, empty bottle, small rusty knife
Door missing, almost empty cell, remains of a cot scattered on the floor
Another empty cell, thorough search (DC 35) reveals a well-made stash in the wall. T: 2d6 cp, simple gold earring, plain silver ring (3 gp + 1 gp)
Corner cell, door bound by rope, inside on a cot are potsherds from 3 large jars; the bars are covered with blankets. T: 5 cp can be found among the sherds
Corner cell, all barred walls covered with blankets smeared with blood from the inside. Door bound, inside there is a large clay amphora without lid, covered in blood, same as the rest of the cell. There is too much blood to fit within the amphora alone

If you read all the way down here, take some time to like, share, or comment. Thanks for your interest, until next week!