Friday, December 23, 2022

Things The Dungeon Can Take From The Players

In anticipation of #dungon23 I’m going to be trying to build up just a bunch of generic semi-abstract tables to help guide writing the dungeon. Some of these will be thematic, but others are more intentionally tied to the actual form of the dungeon-crawl. Today’s table is the latter type--a list of all the things that the dungeon can take from players foolish enough to venture into it.


The core loop of a megadungeon is a series of delves, each of which are based around a process of attrition; you go in at full strength and slowly the dungeon grinds you down. You try to get as much profit out of the dungeon as you can in the time you have before you are forced to turn around and flee. Here’s a list of some of the forms that attrition can take, with some more specific examples.

I've written this list for use with traps and special rooms, but it can easily be used for monster special abilities in a pinch as well.

Examples are listed loosely in order of how painful they are to lose, with later elements needing more and more care to remain fun. I’ve included a roll-table at the bottom for #dungeon23 use.


Hit-Points

This is the default resource that dungeon crawls are ultimately built around. You start with full health, and if you ever run out of it you die. Hit-Points are easy come and easy go; players probably have some healing, and you don’t get any less able to affect the world if you aren’t at full health. HP are meaningful without being too stressful or discouraging to lose.

Examples: An arrow trap that triggers when you step on a plate, a spray of acid from a pipe, falling down a non-bottomless pit, staying in a room so hot you take damage for each minute you spend in it


Competence

Status effects that temporarily weaken a player. Often they stick around for the length of a session but are cured up by the next, so they can throw a wrench into one session without being too much of a bummer.

Examples: A poisoned needle in a chest that leaves you weak, caltrops that reduce your move speed if stepped on, a blinding flash of light, thick mud that clogs up inventory space, a curse that forces you to only walk backwards.


Safety

Hazards that create new hazards are a lot of fun in a dungeon. They might be hazards that alert the monsters of the dungeon to the PCs presence, or that activate a previously sleeping or deactivated danger. Such hazards can be great for ratcheting up tension without reducing the strength of the player characters.

Examples: Mushroom that screams really loud when you approach it, a hidden scout that calls for reinforcements if not discovered, perfume that attracts monsters until washed off, a lever that activates a disabled trap, a sleeping monster that will hunt the players if awakened, a sign saying ‘No Trespassing", a ghost who haunts anyone in possession of their cursed ring.


Resources

Hazards that can use up a character’s resources, such as held items or limited use abilities. These can vary quite a bit in how painful they are--some items such as torches or rations are bought to be expended, while rare and expensive magic weapons are devastating to lose. Resource use can be explicit or implicit--a field that rusts all metal that passes through it directly destroys gear, but a cliff that needs a rope to climb also forces the players to use up their items.

Examples: Sheer cliff needs a rope to climb, strong wind blows out torches, fungal spores render rations inedible, magic door needs Knock spell to open, toll booth requires treasure to open, siren charms and kidnaps hireling.


Morality

Treasure hunting is inherently a morally fraught act, but you can still have situations that test the morals of your players. A situation where the players have to put themselves in danger to help a NPC, or where they have the opportunity to treat a NPC badly for a profit are probably the main two types of this. How these land will really depend on the expectations of your players, and on how much you’re asking them to give up in order to be moral. Moral gotchas, where the actions of the players unwittingly cause harm, tend to feel bad but can be used sparingly if there’s then a chance for the players to make things right.

Examples: A NPC in a dangerous situation that the players would need to risk to rescue them, a helpless NPC holding a valuable treasure, two factions in the middle of an ideological conflict asking for player assistance, a noxious NPC trying to hire the players to do their dirty work, a magic portal that requires human sacrifice to open, a doppelganger that will wreak havoc on whatever settlement the players bring them to.


Orientation

Being able to run away is vital in a megadungeon, so any hazard that disorients or forcibly moves the players is incredibly frightening. Of all the hazards in this list, this is the one most likely to cause a TPK, as it removes the ability of the players to end the session once the attrition piles up too high. Being lost in a dungeon is very dangerous, but also very thrilling.

Examples: One-way doors, teleporters, spinning rooms, subtly sloping hallways, magical confusion, pit traps that dump you on a lower level, rearranging hallways.


Time

Time is safety in a dungeon, where the longer you take on any task the more wandering monster checks you have to make, the more torches you burn through, and (potentially) the more rations you consume. Time-wasting hazards can leave a player group vulnerable, but they’re more fun as a novelty than as an everyday occurrence. I suppose hazards that waste IRL time would also fall under this category, but those seem likely to outstay their welcome very quickly.

Examples: A dart that paralyzes a party member for an hour, a hallway blocked by rubble that would take 20 man-hours to clear, a door that only opens at midnight, a cage trap that automatically opens after six hours, a very slow-walking NPC that you have to escort, a NPC who wastes everyone’s time with a long shaggy dog story.


Selves

Hazards that permanently change player characters exist on an entirely different level of stakes than all the other types of hazards. This is a good and a bad thing. It’s good because it makes for high stakes situation, but incurable negative effects can be seen by some players as a fate worse than death for their character, as they now will simply always be weaker and less competent than other characters of their level. Permanent changes should only be on the table with a lot of foreshadowing. The degree to which these changes are reversible will have a big impact on how brutal they will be seen; in many ways instant death is the lightest of these conditions, as most fantasy games have some spell for bringing back the dead.

Examples: A trap that cuts off a player’s hand, a throne that grants a player a mutation for sitting on it, a needle coated with instant death poison, a helm that mind controls anyone who wears it, level drain.


d20 Hazards

1-6: Hit-Point Loss

7-10: Competence Loss

11-12: Safety Loss

13-14: Resource Loss

15-16: Morality Loss

17-18: Orientation Loss

19: Time Loss

20: Self Loss


Well, what do you all think? Have I missed anything?


Monday, December 19, 2022

#Dungeon23: What's in a room?

 In my last post I talked about my plans to populate my #dungeon23 megadungeon almost entirely through random tables, and how most of those tables would be suggested by the results of other tables. Today I want to think through some of the more high level concepts I want to be playing around with--it’s time to break a dungeon down into its component parts, so we can start figuring out what fun stuff we can do with them.


So, because this is a megadungeon, there are a number of concepts inherently baked into it. . .


  1. Rooms: This is what we’re keying one of per day

  2. Treasure: Why do players even come here

  3. Monsters/NPCs: Who do they interact with?

  4. Traps/Tricks/Specials: How does stuff get weird and dangerous?


This list probably looks familiar to anyone with experience designing for B/X--these four things are almost the atomic elements of a dungeon crawl. Some of these imply larger sets that they’re a member of:


  1. Levels: This is what we’re making one of per month. These sort rooms by difficulty and, to some extent, theme.

  2. Zones: Thematic subsections of levels. I think the original #dungeon23 post said they were planning on making each week into a zone. These should make the rooms make more sense next to each other.

  3. Factions: Some (most) NPCs should be members of larger factions. Factions are great for magnifying the effects of player actions--if they can befriend one NPC, that gives them a foot in the door with all their buddies. Treasure and Traps can also flow out of Factions.


There are also some more conceptual questions that apply to just about everything in the dungeon:


  1. Why is this here? On a, like, narrative level.

  2. What are its relationships to other elements of the dungeon?

  3. Why is this fun for the players to run across?

  4. What themes of the dungeon does it reflect and elaborate on?

  5. What unanswered questions about the dungeon could this provide the answer to?


When I start building out procedures for populating rooms, I want those procedures to be more about giving me inspiration than being mindless rules I need to follow. It’s easy to fall into a rut when you have to key 365 rooms in a row, so prompts that shove me into unexpected directions are going to be vital. This means I’m, unlike many table-based dungeon creation procedures I’ve seen, planning on having my tables be more about these conceptual questions like “what themes does this room embody” than concrete things like “how many doors are in this room”--although there will be plenty of that, as well.


I also want there to be some continuity between rooms using these questions. Whenever I key a room I’ll think of what themes it embodies that I want to see more of and then add them to a list. Whenever I roll a room in the future that starts from a thematic seed, I’ll then roll on that list of themes for their zone/level and use that as an initial departure point for brainstorming. Same with when I roll up a NPC--each faction will have its own list of themes/traits that I use when coming up with fun NPCs. That way I should be able to keep zones/levels/encounters feeling thematically distinct despite being randomly generated.


So, what might this look like in practice? Let’s take a shot at an imaginary room on level, say, 5.


Step One: Basic Pacing Shit

Dungeons are full of monsters, traps, treasure, etc, but all those things need to be proportioned and paced out. The balance between hazards and rewards is close enough to a dungeon’s core activity loop that figuring out a room’s general contents comes first. I’m using this handy BD&D table to figure out what’s in a room for now, but might switch to other methods on other levels or zones.


Step Two: Procedure Picking Procedure

Different procedures have different strengths and weaknesses. If I always start from the same place I’m going to develop blind spots. I want to build different rooms from different start points. For each room, roll once on the Themes table you’ve built for the current Zone, and then once on the following table.


1: Roll one additional time on the Themes table for the room’s Zone.

2: The room has something to do with the dominant faction of this Zone.

3: Roll a random faction from this Level--this room has some relation to them.

4: Roll on the table of Ideas had for cool stuff.

5: Roll on the table of Unanswered Questions about the dungeon and try to answer it with this room

6: Roll on the table of Player Problems & Opportunities.


More on what these tables all actually look like next time.


Step Three: Key the Room

With this you have three points of inspiration to get you started: room contents type, a theme, and one other concept. I find that this is the perfect amount of prompting to get me to make some really weird and unexpected things. If you’re ever left staring at the results without a plan, just roll up another Theme--they’re great because they cut down the possibility space a ton while still being super open-ended.


At this point you just write out a first draft for the room. Try to find the overlap between all the concepts you rolled that still feels like one coherent idea and makes sense in the dungeon’s larger context.


Step Four: Unanswered Questions & Theme Updates

Odds are good that whatever idea you came up with raises a bunch of new questions, possibilities, and ideas up in your mind. Where does this Owlbear find food? Who is this Cultist a worshiper of? If this is a mad sculptor, where are their sculptures? Who killed this corpse? Take as many of these questions as you can think of and throw them all onto the Unanswered Questions table to serve as inspiration for future rooms. Likewise, if this room answered any standing Unanswered Questions you can remove them from the list (if you want--some are fun to let trigger multiple times).


Similarly, think of all the Themes about this room you think are interesting that aren’t already on your Themes table, then just add them to the table. You just keyed an Ossuary where the bones are staged into morality lesson tableaus? Toss “Bones”, “Morbid Tableaus”, “Morality Tales”, and “Tone-Deaf Patronization” onto your Themes list for the Zone/Level/etc. Get some thematic through-lines pumping through your dungeon!


And that’s my planned process! I’m sure it’ll evolve a lot as it hits actual practice, but that’ll be part of the fun of this all. I’m pretty excited to get started.


Friday, December 16, 2022

#Dungeon23: A Procedure for Procedures


 I’ve decided to make a #Dungeon23 dungeon. More specifically, I’ve decided I want to make a megadungeon construction procedure--a set of actions I can take each day to randomly generate a sprawling dungeon while still giving it the cohesion and narrative coherence to make it be something I might actually want to run. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking recently on the topic of ‘default’ procedures to help teach people RPG design/GMing skills, and this should be a fun process to test out my thoughts.

So, without further ado, here is my primary procedure for #Dungeon23:


Whenever I have a question I need to answer about my dungeon, I will draw up a table and jot down as many ideas as I can think of over the next 24 hours. Once those 24 hours are up, I’ll roll on it. If the same question comes up again, I’ll use the same table to answer it. I may add or remove options from the table over time as appropriate.


Aside that, there are a few other things I plan on doing/tracking:


I want the dungeon to maintain narrative coherence, so I’m actually starting from the bottom up; the first room I key will be the ‘final’ room of the dungeon featuring the super-powerful entity the entire dungeon is built around. Normally this would be a bad idea, since you typically want to be able to start running a megadungeon without needing to finalize the areas players won't be exploring for years into the campaign, but the limited format of #Dungeon23 dampens that problem


I want the rooms closer to the surface to foreshadow what's beneath, for the entire dungeon to feel like it's flowing out of the natural repercussions of a single great secret hidden deep beneath the earth. For that to work, the first thing I need to decide on is the nature of that secret itself. This brings me to my first table:


Who Is At The Bottom Of This Dungeon?

  1. Devil

  2. God

  3. Cosmic Horror

  4. Lich

  5. Artifact

  6. Primordial Beast

  7. Dimensional Rift

  8. Immortal King

  9. Archimedean Lever

  10. Billionaire Fleeing the Apocalypse

  11. Big Dragon

  12. Tarrasque

  13. Sleeping Civilization

  14. The Messiah

  15. Fountain of Youth

  16. Magical Mutagen

  17. Underground Civilization

  18. Roll Twice


If I can think of any more ideas before the 1st I’ll add them to the list. Once I do roll on the table, it’ll obviously open up a whole bunch more questions (if it’s a god, a god of what? did they build the dungeon? is it a prison?), but those tables will have to wait until after the initial roll.


There are a few more tables and procedural elements I’ll be using that are inherent to any room--how big is it/how many doors does it have/what’s in it--but I’ll talk about how I’m handling those in a future post.