How I Built My First Dungeon

This post is an edited cut-n-paste of an answer I gave an online friend to the question of how I designed my first dungeon.

One problem with commercial modules is they were often tournament modules or very lightly modified versions of same. This gave folks who used them for inspiration a somewhat skewed view of what a dungeon adventure should be like. I've spoken with many referees who felt frustrated their modules didn't look and play like "X" ... whether X was the B2: Keep on the Borderlands or A1-3: Against the Giants. My main inspiration OTOH was from a quote near the beginning of the first volume of rules: [a] huge ruined pile, a vast castle built by generations of mad wizards and insane geniuses. Upon my first reading of the rules all those years ago several things leapt at me: huge, ruined, vast, generations, insane, genius. This, in turn, fed into my philosophy on dungeon design.

Huge, vast ... my dungeon was, looking back on it now, a megadungeon though we didn't use that term at that time. If you've ever played Tékumel you have an idea of what my main dungeon was like. If not, I'll encapsulate. Barker (creator of Tékumel/Empire of the Petal Throne) envisioned a vast underworld complex formed by each succeeding Emperor destroying the existing city and building a new one on top of it as an example of his/her glory. Over many generations these underground ruins became quite complex and containing many disassociated connections between each former city's ruins.

I was also inspired by (of all people) Elvis Presley's Graceland mansion. I read how he would build something on his grounds to support some new hobby, then tear it down when he grew bored with it and found a new interest. I seem to recall a specific example of a slot car track (a big craze back on those days) razed in order to build a shooting range [side note: years after his death I toured Graceland with my wife and children, if you ever have the opportunity you should take it. It will teach you a lot about the American psyche.]

In this manner, I envisioned sprawling areas that might have a binding theme of some sort: monster research, undead study, steampunk machines (inspired by Tolkien's vague descriptions of fell machinery), training, etc. These areas could be completely remodeled new areas or they might be adapted from existing older areas with little or no alteration.

Mad wizard also said to me: equally mad and power hungry apprentices. The best of these might have an entire level for themselves, the less powerful (or more remedial!) of these might have (what is now known as) a sub-level off another level.

I also varied level sizes and shapes. I would tape graph paper together to make larger sheets, or layout levels based on arcane/occult symbols.

As far as planning a level? Naturally I would consider depth, ingress/egress, who occupied the level above and below (or who I tentatively thought might be below). I didn't strenuously strive for realism but I usually included some kind of water and food supply but otherwise? The sky was the limit. After all, the guys who built the place were CRAZY! I could do whatever came into my mind.

At any rate, level 1 was fairly random. Like my players, I was just learning after all ... and I had no one to mentor me beyond the brief example in Volume III of the TLBB. Level 2 and 3, designed as the players explored the first level, were more of the same but I began to develop ideas with that. Humanoid factions, demi-human enclaves, an underground (no pun intended) faction of Lawful human commandos. Finally, the wizard's forces themselves began to appear. They were opposed by an Evil High Priest and her minions who were trying to take over the dungeons for themselves. Various sub-factions of each were scattered around as the overall dungeon began to develop.

Beginning with 4th level, more themed layers began to appear. Level 4 was a town of sorts, with an uneasy peace existing under a tacit truce between all the various groups. Level 5 was a vast laboratory where bizarre creatures were experimented upon. A lot of my homegrown monsters appeared here, as well as monsters from other "realities" including many from literature. When GH came out I had the origins of the owlbear explained IMC as being from here. When Mind Flayers came out in the very first issue of The Strategic Review Issue Spring 1975 Issue 1 Volume 1, I made them the administrators of the lab and their own faction within the dungeon.

To sum up: no overarching theme beyond some kind of bizarre playground of an insane, powerful, and very rich arch-mage. He lived on the bottom level in a city populated by the minions of Chaos. Levels were sometimes themed, sub-levels were usually themed. There were lots of factions in the dungeon, association with one brought enmity with others.

I tried to keep players on their toes by throwing lots of things at them drawn from various sources. Sometimes this was to supplement my own creativity by introducing other lines of thought into my milieu. Sometimes it was laziness or artistic burnout. I tried to maintain the idea of a deadly environment with rare scattered relatively safe spots, mixing in occasional light-hearted and amusing encounters (though I tried not to veer off into slapstick comedy).

Fringe Participant

I use the concept of matrix and matrices quite often when describing my campaign milieu. Basically it means the rules I've set up for how reality works in my ... errr ... reality. Elves can't be arch-mages, humans can't simultaneously be 2 different classes at once, player-characters can't see in the dark, and so on ad infinitum and ad nauseum. For instance, I don't have cross-breed races IMC such as grizzled half-orc veteran or effete (this word can be typed with one hand) half-elf spell-slinger.

So what do I do when I get some dude or dudette who really wants to play a variant character?  Simple! I allow them to enter the milieu from outside the matrix. I make the prospective player come up with a justification for the variant PC being there. The might include an interdimensional gateway, cursed scroll, very angry deity, magical accident, and so on. If they spin a good enough tale? I allow it.

This requires a bit of adjudication on my part and a dialog with both the incoming player (and variant character) and the existing group. In this way I can keep the established boundaries of my game world while still allowing the players some freedom.

Well, It's About Surviving ... Outdoors

The Avalon Hill Gaming Company's board game Outdoor Survival (OS) gets a great deal of mention in the OD&D boxed set booklets. More than one person has questioned why, since everything needed to run a wilderness campaign is already in the rule books. The answer is rather simple: you need OS for the map board.

If the party became lost while in the wilderness, the map/board from OS came into play. This is why there are no rules in the OD&D booklets for generating random terrain: there was no need. When the party found its way again, they were moved back to the larger terrain map (Ah, yes! We're 6 miles south of where we ought to be!) and play continued from there. If players moved off the edge of the map while lost, Gary would just have them reenter from the opposite side.

The map really is handy, but with a sheet of hex paper, some map colors, and modicum of imagination you can produce something just as good. There are also a variety of maps for free created for D&D types of games available on the internet.

On a side note, I'd suggest using 6 mile hexagons for your outdoor maps as opposed to the 5 mile hex recommended in the rules. Why? Because character movement rates are generally divisible by 6 not 5. This small change will greatly ease referee burden during overland travel.

Electrum Woman & Dyna Girl!

Electrum is a not-as-beautiful-as-one-might-think alloy of silver and gold. It was listed as an optional coin in the original boxed and, depending on referee choice, was suggested to be worth either half or twice as much as gold (2 electrum to one gold coin, or 2 gold coins to 1 electrum piece). Besides being a rather ugly metal (see graphic below), electrum coins are significant for another reason.

Ever wonder why Experience Points were abbreviated XP rather than EP? According to at least one person around back on those early days, it was because of electrum pieces (EP).

And now you know!

Running Into The Sword

Gary had a habit of summing up gaming experiences into pithy little sayings. One of my favorites was his oft-repeated admonition that while he never set out to TPK (total party kill) if players insisted on running into the outstretched sword he'd certainly allow them to do so. I feel much the same way. Brought on, I suppose, by my wargame experiences in which losses were commonly the result of poor strategy or tactics.

Sometimes, however, the dice just hate you and want to kill you. As referee I've made a habit of rolling in the open so the player can see the dice fall where they may. This is why one uses dice to begin with, after all, to introduce an element of chance (or chaos to my way of thinking!) into the game. So, what do you do when the players do everything right but the player-characters wind up in extremis?

INSTA-CAPTURE! I've mentioned this in a previous post but one house-rule Gygax used and is rarely mentioned elsewhere is the insta-capture (my name, not his). This ruling states a PC successfully grappled by four opponents of a similar size is instantly and automatically successfully overborne and subdued. Thus, if half the party is slain or hors de combat there is no need for a bloodbath. Thag the Orc-King (first of his name, don't you know?) orders Sergeant Grom and his squad of 40 bully-boy Orcs to take the player-characters into custody. Hooting and jeering the Orcs swarm over the adventurers still on their feet and the lot of them are carried off and thrown into the Orc's prison cells. Those smooth-skins will pay, and pay dearly, to get their precious heroes back. The PC's, on the other hand, will have to pay back every gold piece ... with interest! If they don't have the money? Or if the money is in some big city bank? Well, no credit here! This is why spells such as geas and quest exist!

Or maybe 1 or 2 player-characters escape. Upon returning to town (or home base) with nothing but what they managed to carry as they ran away from the fight, they'll have to organize a rescue. This will cause them to lose much face with the locals, you can be sure of that! The one(s) that escaped may be accused of working with the enemy, or of cowardice.

Or perhaps one of the captured player-characters is sent by the Orcs to carry their own ransom demands back to the town. That one is under threat to return within "x" days or one of his fellow adventurers will be beheaded each day of his delay. Of course, upon returning to town the carrier of the ransom demands is thrown into jail while the Captain of the Guard sorts out what happened ... 

BOTTOM LINE There is no need to wipe out a party if they've had a run of bad luck. Now, if they are goofing off and playing poorly, by all means: let the last thing their characters see is the edge of an Orcish scimitar. The insta-capture rule can allow the referee to show a bit of mercy to otherwise good players without flat-out rescuing them by deus ex machina. They players will pay for their bad luck, such is life, but they'll live to fight another day. Of course, Bambi the buxom tavern wench will never look at Boromir the Brave with the same twinkle in her eye again.

Chaos Bubbles

I casually mentioned, during a local gaming session, my use of chaos bubbles as a wandering monster encounter. When fellow gamer "A" questioned what I meant by that, it took a moment for me to realize this was an encounter of my own devising and not a part of the rules. I'd been using them for so long I'd forgotten.

Chaos bubbles had their genesis in the Dungeon Geomorphs marketed by TSR back in the day. When this result was rolled on my (always) customized encounter tables I would simply remove the geomorph I was using and put a new one its place, rearranging room descriptions and making up new stuff as needed "on the fly." I liked it so much I began using the idea when I drew my own maps, marking out areas ahead of time that would change if a chaos bubble percolated up from the chaotic underdark (new expression for an old idea used in the name of brevity).

The whole idea sprang forth from the understanding the underworld was opposed to the Forces of Law. This, in turn, was inspired in part by the rules about doors opening easily for monsters but resisting the player-character's attempts to open them. Or, the fact denizens of the underworld had infravision but not players ... and a monster entering the service of the players (and Law, presumably) would lose that ability.

As I began to use this idea on my hand-drawn maps, I began to expand upon it. There were often 4 or 6 such areas with the potential for changing if a chaos bubble came up. The appropriate die was used to generate which area was so affected. Players trapped within a bubble's area of effect might find egress from the room or area significantly changed and their maps of the immediate (or larger) area rendered inaccurate. In addition, the players themselves might suffer subtle changes: gems changing value, gold coins turning into less valuable copper pieces or vice-versa, rations appearing or disappearing from their packs, even the number of arrows in their quiver changing.

You Do/Don't Need To Know The Rules!

There's been some talk of how players need to be ignorant of the rules in order to play the game as it was played in the halcyon days of the hobby. Though I feel this is a fine way to run a game (more on that below) I'm going to have to call foul ball on the "authentic" part of the claim. I submit as proof for my assertion the following: 

If you are a player purchasing the DUNGEONS and DRAGONS rules in order to improve your situation in an existing campaign, you will find that there is a great advantage in knowing what is herein. (OD&D Volume I: Men & Magic)

It's the first line of the second paragraph of the bloody rules! The first paragraph of the introduction is written specifically to referees, making this second paragraph the very first statement made directly to potential players. As a referee, I never had a huge problem with players knowing the rules. My reasoning was they should know the basics of How Things Work™ ... just as we know by experience and observation how our world works. They should know the basics of the protective factor of armor, how far an arrow flies, how tough a giant is to kill, and how likely a blow will actually hit an opponent. Of course I always caution against assuming my goblins (or any other monster) are the same as the rulebook goblins, doing so might get their player-characters killed. Some things should be a mystery, after all.

SHOULD THEY KNOW? I'm speaking from supposition and not experience here. Because I was the first geek in [small town in TX] to own the rules I had to know them well enough to run the game. Thus, I never had to play OD&D without thorough knowledge of what was in the little box. Still, years of running the game allows me to speak from cumulative experience.

Excessive gamist thinking tends to pull players out of the game and into reality. Suspension of belief is a fun part of the game for many of us ... even the referee. When folks ask me how players opened locked doors or chests when there was no thief in the game, my reply is how would you do it? Don't think only a thief can pick a lock, if you yourself were actually in the game with the resources your party had, how would you open that locked door?

Player-Characters don't "know" they have only 1 hit point left during a fight (you feel weak and your vision is beginning to blur), they have just gained second level (your experience has taught you a better way to use your sword and shield in combat), or the monster has a high armor class (you gasp as your powerful blow harmlessly glances off the young dragon's hide). On a personal note, I think it's more fun when you don't know all those things. I played in a campaign here in Austin TX in which a monster's AC or a magical sword's bonus was discovered by trial and error. I know many players feel the same way. But ...

DO THEY WANT TO KNOW? Geeks (and I use the term affectionately) are a smart bunch of guys and gals. Some just can't relax until they've unscrewed the back of the cuckoo clock and disassembled the blasted thing to figure out how it all works. There are just as many who feel this way about the rules of the game as those of us who feel looking at the man behind the curtain steals the magic away from "The Great & Powerful Oz."

A common theme in my 'blog writing is "what do your players want?" A player having a well-rounded knowledge of the game can be a big plus at the table, as I learned when I was conducting a Traveller campaign and overlooked a significant rule in ship-to-ship combat. Then there is the darker side of same. As alluded to in my previous post there are barracks room lawyers out there who want to beat every bit of advantage from the rules; this being fun for them. Unfortunately their fun usually sucks all the joy from the game for everyone else at the table.

SO? SHOULD THEY OR SHOULDN'T THEY? In my opinion, a basic but not specific knowledge of the rules is the best way to proceed. Whether you agree or not, don't allow yourself to believe not knowing is an authentic "old school" (how I hate that term) playing experience. Focus on the behavior and desires of the players. Explain to them you'd like to try running the game with a minimum of knowledge on their part, though they will still need certain specifics such as prices, how their spells work, etc. Most players will enjoy the challenge, even if it makes them feel uncomfortable. If the majority of your players do not feel this is a good way to proceed then pass out the rulebooks with a smile ... along with the caveat these are merely suggestions not rules. An evil smirk and brisk rubbing of the palms together whilst making this pronouncement will go a long way toward keeping your players on their toes!