For people who get upset about reviews of modules unplayed
Would you get mad at playwrights giving feedback after reading a script on a play not yet produced?
For people who get upset about reviews of modules unplayed
Would you get mad at playwrights giving feedback after reading a script on a play not yet produced?
There was a post on Facebook (cess pit that it is) that I found really inspirational. Here's a screenshot so you don't ritually defile yourself by going there.
It's a node-based megadungeon. It looks sprawling!
They clarified that each node was 4-5 rooms large. If you have 54 nodes and 5 rooms a node, that's 270 rooms. That feels solidly megadungeon level--past the point of "Is Pluto a planet?" and "Oh yeah, that's Mars."
KJ Davies of the In My Campaign blog has been working on similar projects since 2014. A storied career, with many blog posts, ideas, and dungeon design to support their work! Check out their last nodal megadungeon! (Each level doesn't seem quite complete to me, but they're what His Majesty the Worm would call a dungeon seed - a jumping off point to be fully mapped, Meatgrindered, and filled with monsters and treasures.)
Gus exchanged some of his own nodal megadungeon ideas with KJ Davies, and even did this cool picture of their dungeon:
[SIDEBAR] As has been said, blogs create ruins. I'm so glad that these ruins from 2014 are still around for me to crawl through! It also just goes to show you how many people want the thing you're making but can't find you. Marketing isn't efficient, but it's an attempt to connect the author with the audience. I wish I had found them sooner! [/SIDEBAR]
I said when I was writing Worm that writing a megadungeon isn't hard (I still hold by that statement): it was just making a series of atomic choices.
Some things are atoms. (And everybody thought atoms were the smallest thing imaginable, until scientists hit them with a hammer in 1932 and a lot of like, quarks and neutrons and shit fell out.) But the more I work on megadungeon design, the more I understand that we don't want atoms. We want elements. That's what we make things out of.
In the Worm Discord, we've had this concept dungeon quilts. Not a dungeon in toto, but a patch that could be sewn into it--drag and drop it in wherever. Nodal megadungeon design is parallel development to this concept.
A dungeon node / dungeon patch of 4-5 themed rooms is an element that is usable.
It resonates with Sean McCoy's advice to write rooms in pairs:
You can think of these rooms as sequels and prequels to the rooms you’ve already come up with. Setups and punch lines.
Writing in pairs builds connectivity and halves the amount of work you have to do.
This gets you in the mindset inherently of connecting your spaces rather than thinking of a dungeon as like thirty different themed rooms. Once you start doing this it’s hard to stop.
It resonates with what Gus talked about in his Jaquaysing article:
By breaking down even a small dungeon into these kinds of nodes, and limiting their connections, players can better understand the space, and the designer can better imagine it, creating rational connections between the keyed locations that allow for more complex play rather than a sort of directionless ramble. With larger dungeons shortcuts and alternate entrances become more important, either as ways to quickly get to unexplored areas or to change the direction that the party approaches certain obstacles from. Faction territories can be logically delineated by choke points or defensible areas, disrupted by secret passages.
By way of example, let me break down one of the levels from The Castle Automatic:
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| Art by Guy Pradel |
The level is cohesive, but is also chunked into discrete clusters of themed rooms. The map could be rearranged in any pattern the excellent Guy Pradel wished as long as those nodes were kept together. The Meatgrinder (overloaded encounter table) ties the level together thematically, even though many of the patches have different environmental details and dungeon construction.
Having conceptualized this more fully, I issue this challenge: Write your dungeons in 4-5 room elemental building blocks.
Sometimes I kvetch about how boring I find fantasy pantheons that are just Greek gods with a bad coat of paint. Sometimes I've blogged about it.
| Guys do you want to hear about my setting's unique pantheon? My god Warfrith is the god of both war AND peace isn't that interesting? |
The next time you sit down to start writing a list of 10 gods and 1 evil god, stop. Don't do that. Do this instead.
Think about your RPG friends that aren't in your immediate campaigns. Maybe they live out of state. Maybe they work third shift. Select 3-6 of them. These are your setting's gods. There might be other gods elsewhere in your world, but these are the local ones that form the basis of the major religion(s).
(Prerequisite: You must have 3-6 RPG friends. If you don't have any, come join the His Majesty the Worm Discord.)
Think about something you know about them. What is their job? What are their hobbies? What is their user name and pfp? These are the gods' spheres of influence.
Take the letters of their name and rearrange them, spell it like Jolly Old England, or write some fantasy gibberish with similar phonetic tones. These are the gods' names.
Look at your campaign map. Put temples, fanes, and wild altars to these gods everywhere. A city has one god as a patron: put their main temple there. Put a desecrated altar to one of your gods in a dungeon (the players can cleanse it). Put a Pantheon - a Temple to All Gods - on a high mountain or remote island.
When your players encounter a temple to a god, they may make an offering and petition the god through prayer. Write these down.
After your game session, text your friend. Tell them what the player offered them and what they prayed for. Ask them what they think would happen.
Take their suggestions and action them in your world. You don't have to tell the players that their prayers were answered. Perhaps they'll never connect the prayer to what happened on account of your friend's advice. But gods work in mysterious ways like that.
CABED ANGREN. A small Gondorian mining town in the shadow of the White Mountains, supported by about ten farming homesteads in the surrounding valley. Although too small to have an inn, the town hosts one of Gondor's three Juggler's Colleges (the others are in Pelargir and Cobas Haven), which has a guest house. The River Morthond flows on the east of the region; a stone bridge allows passage into the Vale of Erech.
✦ - OFTEN HERE: 1. Forlong (man - velvet chaperon, mercantile, alderman) lost two brothers to the bandits encamped at Minas Anghen (85.99), 2. Duoervis Cleg (man - old & fat but surprisingly nimble, childishly witty, master juggler) wants to prove that his Juggler's College is superior to its sisters in loftier cities, 3. Audrey (woman - cow-eyed, frank, goodwife) is willing to rent out a spare room for 5 copper/week, but won't put up with any funny business.
! - RAIDERS OF MINAS ANGHEN: Eriel (woman - almost-violet eyes, haughty, noble) is gifted with foresight, and is interested in Minas Anghen (85.99) as a home of past seers. She has disguised her status as a noblewoman while researching the history of the tower, which is currently held by a company of raiders. She knows that the old seer who dwelt at Minas Anghen possessed much magic treasure, and she's not sure if the raiders have discovered it or not. She will pay the common burglar's price and give a simple map of the layout of the tower in exchange for first pick from any treasures recovered.
★ - A burglar who pays 12 silver tuition and spends six months of intensive study at the Juggler's College gains the following art:
Juggler: Gain a +2 bonus on all Subtlety tests related to sleight of hand. Additionally, you treat falls as if they were 10' shorter.
[Credit: MERP - Haunted Ruins of the Dunlendings]
MINAS ANGHEN. A tower fortress on the shoulders of the White Mountains. Its name means "Long-eye Tower" in the Common Speech, and is sometimes named as such by the folk of Cabed Angren. Once held by local lords, the last legitimate resident was Niniel the Seer, who died of plague 100 years ago. It is now occupied by a raiding company of bandits hired by a disinherited Pelargir noble.
(6) - SEER'S GHOST: The ghost of Niniel the Seer haunts the mountain paths that lead to Minas Anghen. She can also be seen standing, impossibly, on top of the Long-eye Falls. She will try to lure heroes to rid the tower of the occupying bandits by pointing, pleadingly, towards the tower. She will be attracted to those carrying treasures that is Haunted.
Approaching Minas Anghen triggers a location-based adventure.
The Bandits
There are ten occupants in total; nine raiders and a young woman they've pressed into service. As they are defeated, mark through their names in the list.
Coerba Nine-Fingers, "The Bandit Prince" (man - braided thinning black hair, sardonic, bandit captain)
Sunil the Snake (woman - lisp, fiery, Coerba's woman)
Hirgon (man - dandy, casually cruel, bandit lieutenant)
Vagor (man - piggish, odious, bandit)
Pwyll (man - hawk-nosed, meticulous, bandit)
Dagnir (man - boss-eyed, out of countenance, bandit)
Gorlim (man - drooling, lecherous, bandit)
Dirhavel (man -bushy-bearded, bully, bandit)
Treva (woman - white haired child, sullen, thrall)
Gorghiric (man - haunted, hard drinking, shaman) *
* Alone among the bandits, Gorghiric doesn't use bandit stats. Instead, user sorcerer stats to represent him. Although not a servant of the Necromancer directly, he has lost his mind studying dark things. He can attack with a spell of fear and summon illusory phantasms, if not drunk.
What are the bandits doing?
The bandits sleep during the day; a random pair will be on watch duty at any point. During the night, each bandit has a default room where they will be (until an alarm is raised). Roll on this table to see if there are any changes to this default behavior:
The Outer Structure
1. Gates: Heavy wooden doors bar entrance to the courtyard. They are open at night (so the bandits can come and go as they please) but barred during the day.
2. Garth: The central courtyard is weedy and overgrown. There are two wells, an enclosure for horses, and a henhouse. There is a single bedraggled chicken.
3. Hallway: A hallway to the servant's quarters.
4. Kitchen: A large, rustic stone kitchen with two hearths. It is in a state of disarray: kettles, cleavers, unwashed pots, old bread. Treva, the bandits' nineteen-year-old thrall, works and sleeps here.
5. Dagnir and Gorlim's Bedroom: A bedroom with beds and two locked chests. Dagnir and Gorlim are usually here.
6. Dirhavel's Bedroom: An untidy bedroom strewn with eight bottles of wine (three empties), three longswords, and a poleaxe. A locked chest sits at the foot of the bed. Dirhavel is usually here.
7. Vagor and Pwyll's Bedroom: An odd couple's bedroom: half tidy, half squalid. Vagor and Pwyll are often here, arguing.
8. Stables: Five horses are bedded on old leaves. The horses are:
The Tower
9. Presence Room: A black oak throne set on a central dais dominates this room. Eight beech chairs line the outer wall. A huge tapestry with an abstract, Arabesque pattern hangs at the back of the room.
10. Dining Room: A seven foot long oval table of oak. Two doors afford exits: one leads to a privy; the other opens onto a stairwell at one end and a door into the kitchens at the other.
11. Hallway: A window lights this narrow corridor. A privy (unkeyed) is at one end.
12. Hirgon's Bedroom: Fine quarters. A silver mirror with a jade frame (15 silver) hangs prominently on the wall. The bed has a purple satin quilt. There is a locked chest. Hirgon is often here.
13. Coerba's Sitting Room: A pleasant room with cushioned benches and carved applewood chairs. Trinkets (worthless) decorate the hearth. A painting of a dwarf forging six keys hangs on the wall. Coerba is often here.
14. Sunil and Coerba's Bedroom: Fine quarters. The curtained and canopied bed has draperies of velvet green, embroidered with gold; half is missing because Sunil made a cloak of it for herself. Chests of drawers hold an extensive collection of fine Gondorian clothing. A bear skin rug lies on the ground. The fireplace is carved with stone roses. Sunil is often here.
Box of Panes
This magic item controls the behavior of the Room of Doors (area 15). None of the bandits have worked this out and are rightfully cautious about experimenting with the magic items of this place.
The Box of Panes is a wooden box with nine compartments, arranged 3 x 3. The center compartment is empty. In the other compartments are colored glass cubes.
When a colored glass cube is placed in the center position of the Box of Panes, the correspondingly-colored door in the Room of Doors opens into a new location.
The cubes are:
15. Room of Doors: This strange chamber takes up an entire floor of the tower. Six doors are equally spaced around the room. They are each different colors: black, white, blue, green, yellow, orange, violet, and red.
16. Seer's Library: A spacious and ornate library, orderly but weighted with dust. Shelves full of old books and tomes line the walls. A writing desk sits in the south of the room. A painting of elven women gathering herbs hangs on the wall.
17. False Door: The stairway ascends to the fourth floor and comes to a landing; the stairs continue upwards. The interior of the stair shaft and the stairs transition from wood to stone. The door on the landing has a poem written on it: "The library within is for neither man nor elf / seek the knowledge inside of yourself."
18. Rooftop: An open colonnade surrounds the top of the tower and supports the roof. A stairwell winds around the central chimney, which leads up to a basin for a signal fire (18a). Between each column is a pedestal overlooking the crenellations topped with a viewing orb.
The Halls Under the Garth
19. Storeroom: A hallway stacked with supplies.
20. Gorghiric's Quarters: A damp underground chamber. A sleeping pallet is set in one corner. An altar is set up in the center of the room: a table overhung with a cloth, on which black candles drip wax. Gorghiric is often here.
Seer's Ring: A mithril band set with an adamant.
21. Well Room: A wide stone basin filled with mountain spring water which flows from a mouth in the cavern wall and out through a drain in the bottom. An inscription carved on the wall cavern reads: "Harrowing the path, narrow the way. Hide your treasures where no man strays."
22. Baths: Two basins in a stone chamber. One has a continuously flowing stream of icy mountain spring water. The other is a large tub with a spigot. A fireplace beneath the tub can be used to warm the bath.
23. Wine Cellar: Mostly empty wine racks line both the north and south wall. On the east wall, there is a painting of a fly trapped in a spider web. A cold breeze blows through the room.
24. Hidden Passageway: A hallway. The east door is made of metal and locked.
25. Secret Prison: A pulley apparatus drops down from a hole in the ceiling. A not-quite-rotted corpse lies near the metal door.
26. Cell: A smaller cell, containing a rotted straw-filled mattress and latrine hole. The cell has an iron grate door (currently open and unlocked).
27. Seer's Vault: A carved stone chamber that contains the wealth of the Seers of Minas Anghen—the wealth of more than 500 years. There are six oak chests standing in this room. Each is locked (but not trapped). The ghost of Niniel the Seer lingers in this room.
SETMAENEN. A mound of earth raised over a grotto spring surrounded by seven standing stones. This was once one of the calendar temples of the Dunlendings. Today, there is an aura of fear on the place.
Those with Dunlending Lore know that, of old, this was a place of healing on Midsummer's Day, but was cursed by the Dark Lord out of jealousy that none should be worshipped but him.
Approaching Setmaenen triggers a location-based adventure. Italicized text is included for the GM's benefit and shouldn't be told to the players unless they have an appropriate lore.
1. Circle of Stones: The earthwork mound is ringed by seven standing stones. There is an entrance (area 2), cut into the mound. Next to the entrance is an evil-looking statue.
2. Door: A hole is cut into the turf of the mound. The door step is 3' above the ground level (the ancient stairs have rotted away). The entrance way is defined and supported by three huge stones forming an archway. The lintel is carved with a solar motif. It depicts the sun on the longest day of the year. Above the lintel is an opening like a transom window; it can only be opened from inside (area 3).
3. Entrance hall: A 15' passage into the heart of the mound. Next to the door (2), set into a recess is a huge round stone (weighing 2 tonnes).
4. Altar room: A cross-shaped room. To the north, west, and east are nooks with altars. Each altar has a silvery mirror set onto the wall behind it. The north altar depicts a solar motif. The western altar depicts stars. The eastern altar depicts a lunar motif. The door to area 5 is blocked by a heavy round stone.
5. Resting room: An empty room. This space was once used for worshippers to make themselves ready to enter the pool of area 8.
6. Stairs: A flight of stairs descending into the earth. At the base of the stairs, there are two pillars containing levered mechanisms.
7. Pool of the Holy Spring: The heart of the mound is egg-like, with polished white stone walls and a domed ceiling. A spring floods the room, making it a pool of cold water.
8. Trapped hallway: A hallway that slopes towards area 9.
9. Priest's treasury: This black-marble lined chamber is the trove of the ancient priests of this place: seven stone jars hold their treasures (see below). A wight haunts the room: it conjures an unearthly mist that fills the area.
Treasures:
In addition to many canopic jars that hold the ashes of previous priests, the following treasures are found within the seven stone jars:
[Credit: MERP - Haunted Ruins of the Dunlendings]
HAEDREC'S CAVE. Haedrec (man - garbed in yellow and red, disquieted, sorcerer) is a sorcerous hermit. His father was of Dúnedain stock and his mother was Dunlending; he follows the magical practices of his mother. He frequently has attempted to explore Setmaenen (88.97) but hasn't yet plumbed its inner mysteries. He will warn the company away from the place, saying truthfully that an evil spirit was sent by the Dark Lord to stop the worship that occurred within the mound on Midsummer's Day. This is partly from genuine concern and partly because he hopes to one day claim the treasures inside for himself.
[Credit: MERP - Haunted Ruins of the Dunlendings]
Part 4 of my investigation into "Hobbits have a Roadside Picnic."
Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here.
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| Art by Kattapulka |
Burglars know how dangerous the dungeon zone is: clouds of razors, underground lightning, solid rock that temporarily becomes quicksand before hardening again. But more insidious is the dragon sickness, which clings to the things they bring out of the Mountain.
When you return to Lake-town, your dragon sickness rating is equal to the amount of slots occupied by dragon gold or magic treasures. Your dragon sickness rating lowers by 1 for every month spent not carrying any gold or treasures.
1-2: You get winded easily. Reduce your movement by 5'. If you ever drop to 1 hp or lower, you lose a tooth.
3-5: You get a -1 penalty to your Saving Throws. Your hair is thin. You get regular nosebleeds.
6-9: Reroll your hp. If it's lower than your current maximum hp, it becomes your new maximum. You lose your hair in chunks.
10+: Lose 1 point of Constitution and 1d4 teeth permanently. You regularly bleed from your gums and nail beds.
Dragon sickness (as opposed to most rules in this blog series) is a player-facing rule. The players track how many items they have on their person and know enough about dragon sickness (as professionals) to have in-character knowledge of its effects.
The Visit did take place, but it is by no means over. We’re actually in contact as we speak, we just don’t know it. The aliens are holed up in the Zones and are carefully studying us, simultaneously preparing us for the ‘time of cruel miracles.’
Dragon gold lets burglars stay in a state of inebriation long enough to forget the pains of the dragon sickness, but treasure is what the Union of the Five Armies want. They want to study them. They want to copy them. They want to break them and harvest what comes out. Burglars call treasures "swag."
Dungeon zone treasures should be in a black box to the players. Only experimentation should reveal some of their properties. Don't tell them the full item descriptions.
The ring market of Lake-town is flooded due to the proliferation of drippers. Drippers are rings of a gold-colored but unknown metal*. They are discovered in a variety of sizes, but most are well-sized to be worn by a human hand. Every nine days, a dripper creates eight copies of itself--identical in all ways except that the duplicates do not, themselves, produce duplicates.
*If hammered or melted, they break down into a ephemeral slime.
Another piece of apparent jewelry forged by Smaug, balanced bracelets are a collection of larger rings of dull metal--too large to be worn on the finger but appropriate as a bracelet or arm ring. When set on their edge and spun, these bracelets will spin forever.
A bullseye lantern that emits a green light within 30'. The lantern can be completely uncovered, shedding light in all directions, or partially uncovered into a projected spotlight. The beam of light deals 1d8 damage per round to living creatures (Save to avoid), but has no effect on inanimate material. Death lanterns have 1d100 rounds of use when discovered.
Another treasure in the fungus family, a spiker looks like a sea urchin. When disturbed, they throw their spikes, which cover a 10' square area around them in porcelain-like shards.
Spikers can be harvested with care, wrapped carefully, and thrown as a weapon. They deal 1d6 damage on impact, and deal 1 damage each round thereafter until the victim spends a round to remove the shards from their flesh. Treat as caltrops once detonated in a space.
Hey man it's a classic for a reason.
This glittering sand, when spread onto the surface of water, makes the surface tension of the water impermeable for 1 turn (10 minutes). The water can be walked on. Anything under the water cannot break the surface.
No object looms larger in the burglars' rumours than the Heart of the Mountain.
They say that Smaug sleeps with it under his head.
They say it's too big to move, even if you found it when he was outside of his golden hoard.
They say it grants your heart's dearest wish.
They say it kills one person touching it for every wish it grants.
Part 3 of my investigation into "Hobbits have a Roadside Picnic."
"I don’t exactly understand your terminology. What traps?”
Noonan laughed. "That’s folklore," he explained. "Stalkers’ jargon. Bug traps—those are the areas of increased gravity."
A green sludge found filling storerooms, wells, and cellars. It is unliving and unmoving.
Hell slime can only be contained by stone or ceramic.
When exposed to other nonliving materials (leather, wood, paper, cloth, glass, etc.), the hell slime quickly breaks it down and converts it into slime, so that the whole grows by the consumed object's mass. Hell slime can quickly get out of control in this way: as it gets bigger, it consumes more, and stretches into new regions, devouring portions of the dungeon.
When it comes into contact with a living body, it infects it. Skin, organs, and muscles are left intact, but the slime begins to painlessly eat the creature's bones. A PC who comes into contact with slime should determine where the slime touched them (roll randomly if it's not clear from the fiction). They lose 1 hp every turn. For every 4 hp lost, all bones are permanently destroyed in that segment and the slime crawls up the body.
For example, if a finger was infected, first the hand is lost - then the arm to the elbow - then the elbow to the shoulder, then the ribcage, then the spine. When the spine is consumed, the person dies (if hp loss hadn't already killed them).
Amputation is the only way to stop the advance of hell slime on the body.
Carrying hell slime outside of the dungeon is a capital crime in every kingdom. There are always potential purchasers.
Throughout the dungeon, walls of strange material bifurcate and cut off passage towards the dragon's lair. They were not made by the dwarves, but are products of the zone--they grow spontaneously and shift between delves.
Concept keys: Burglars have learned that each wall can be defeated by a certain thought called a concept key. When exposed to a song, a feeling, a word, an image, these walls melt away like mist in the morning.
Dungeon keys: The dwarves made keys for their doors, chests, manacles, cuckoo clocks, etc. Any key that was within the Mountain at the coming of the dragon is a dungeon key. Keys from outside the dungeon will not work.
When a weird wall is touched with a dungeon key, the key disappears and the wall is destroyed. Dungeon keys are a sure-fire and fast way to get past weird walls.
However, there were only so many keys in the dungeon. Each time one is used, there is one fewer. There will never be any replacements made. And the walls are constantly growing and constantly shifting. The Union can foresee a time where there are no keys left, but the walls remain. That is why the Union prefers to open weird walls with visualization techniques and save the keys for emergencies. Burglars are here for quick riches, and so make free use of the dungeon keys.
The types of weird walls are:
1. Walls of Web: Although nobody has ever seen a spider of any size in the dungeon zone, there are walls seemingly made of black webs. They are sticky to the touch (dealing 1 hp of damage if touched with bare skin).
Breaking: The thick cords resist the bite of most swords and axes, but they can be sliced through in 1 turn by a magical weapon--the cords reweave themselves after 1 turn, closing the gap.
Concept key: Walls of web melt away into black motes when told secrets: a burglar must speak aloud a personal fact that no one in the company knows. A burglar alone cannot use this concept key.
2. Walls of Flesh: Some walls are made of flesh and sinew. Some are like a giant's arm twisting through the passageways: some are riddled with teratomas of hair, mouths, eyes.
Breaking: The walls can be butchered. A 5' passage can be cut into a wall of flesh with hacking weapons and 2 turns. There is a 1-in-6 chance that the blood of a wall of flesh is hell slime. If eaten, the meat is deadly.
Concept key: Walls of flesh whisper riddles. If the riddle is guessed, the wall melts into a pink sludge.
3. Walls of Will: There are unseen walls. Some evil will (the dragon's?) prevents a company from moving forward, as if solid steel stood in their way.
Breaking: Walls of will cannot be broken.
Concept key: A hopeful thought born of song will break the will that holds the company back. One burglar must sing a song or recite a poem that engenders hope in the company.
4. Walls of Fire: Fires rage in the dungeon that block off passage: they have no fuel, but are otherwise similar to the fires of the natural world. (Dragonfire, discussed below, is different.)
Breaking: Walls of fire cannot be broken. They have never been successfully extinguished by water. Jumping through a wall of fire deals 2d6 damage and ignites anything flammable on the character.
Concept key: Walls of fire will evaporate into choking black smoke if an item of significance is sacrificed to the flames.
Black oil is scum that sloughs off the waters under the Mountain. It moves with the speed and stimuli-based instincts of a slug.
If black oil is covered the surface of the water, the water cannot be navigated without suffering the penalties of the oil.
Terrestrially, the black oil is easy to avoid if there is ample space. However, black oil can sometimes drip down from the ceiling onto a random burglar. Each burglar passing under the resting place of a black oil has a 2-in-6 chance of triggering it. If a burglar is carrying a magical treasure, this chance increases to 5-in-6. The burglar is allowed a Save to avoid the dropping oil.
When covered in oil, each round the victim suffers the following effects in order. They will suffer effect 1 until no longer applicable, then suffer effect 2 until no longer applicable, then suffer effect 3.
1. Eat through armour: The black oil will first eat through the victim's armour. Each round, the armour's AC bonus is reduced by 1. At 0 AC, it is destroyed beyond repair.
2. Eat treasures: The black oil is drawn to magical treasures from the dungeon. If the victim is carrying such treasures, each round there is a 3-in-6 chance the black oil will devour it. When devoured, it explodes, dealing 1d4 damage to the victim.
3. Eat the victim: The black oil deals 1d4 damage to the victim each round. Victims killed in this way become oil-covered skeletons (1HD).
Removing a black oil requires fire or a gem. If burned with fire, each oil can withstand 2d8 (average 9) points of damage. The victim also takes this damage. If the black oil is fed a gem, both the gem and the oil are instantly destroyed.
The Returner faction seeks out black oils to feed treasures to, deliberately.
Certainly these are of the category of magical treasure, but are avoided as traps by burglars.
These lanterns glow with green light. Around them cluster 1d8 shadows which move jerkily, stutter-stopping along the walls and floors. Victims who are drained of their Strength rise as new shadows, bound forever to the lantern that killed them.
Extinguishing the green flame destroys all bound shadows. Most of the witch lanterns have been destroyed in the upper two levels, but some still exist in the lower deeps.
Shimmers are 10' x 10' manifestations of destructive physical forces. Difficult to see in torchlight, impossible to see in sunlight, but easily spotted in the dark: they are practically invisible, appearing only as a light glimmering in pitch black or like a heat mirage in low light.
In a large dark room, shimmers can be spotted outside of the range of torch light automatically when moving at exploration speed.
In a corridor, shimmers are more dangerous. The front-line burglar has a 2-in-6 chance (elves have a 3-in-6 chance) of seeing a shimmer directly ahead of them. A 10' pole is already too close for comfort: the burglar gets a +2 to their Save but might still be sucked in to the shimmer. The only reliable method of discovering them before walking into them is by throwing objects (like acorns) ahead of you as you move. Moving in this way forces the party to move at a maximum exploration rate of 20' per Turn.
Those who step close to a shimmer are allowed a Save to throw themselves backwards out of its grip. On a failure, they are instantly destroyed, their body ripped apart as if squeezed by an invisible giant.
The wells that the dwarves carved into the Mountain have all been tainted by the dragon's presence. Drinking from any of them is perilous because their effects are unknown.
Delvers have mapped the effects of certain pools in the first two levels. For example, the well at the North Crossroads shrinks imbibers for 3 Turns (30 minutes) to a twelfth of their size (feet become inches).
When drinking from an unidentified well, roll on Goblinpunch's Perfect Potions List. The result is tied to that room forever.
Waters bottled in hermetic vials can be sold on the black market.
There is a 2-in-6 chance that any enchanted pool has a black oil haunting it each time the room is visited.
Revenants are not the only way the dead haunt the dungeon. Burglars may bring the ghosts of those they know, living or dead, with them under the Mountain. They manifest as phantoms.
A phantom is a seeming, an illusion, made out of condensed smoke and light. They are physically present and can interact with their environment, but have only a Strength of 1. If they ever suffer a single point of damage, they vanish in puff of smoke.
To stock phantoms in your dungeon, ask your players questions and use the answers to build them into the random encounter table.
The phantom appears as...
1. A group of rival burglars
2. A beloved family member of a member of the company (living or dead)
3. An NPC from Lake-town that is well known to the company
4. Union guardsmen hunting burglars
The phantom is...
1. Desperate to tell a certain member of the company a random rumour: they treat this as an omen of utmost importance, no matter the subject matter
2. Spiteful to a member of the company, insulting them in a way that is uniquely painful
3. Eager to lead the company deeper into the dungeon, promising treasure
4. Quiet, following behind the company without saying anything
The Blinding Sound is a trap that is not tied to a location. Put it on your random encounter table.
The Sound begins as a low rumble, barely discernable. If the company is standing still and being utterly silent, they can sense it without a roll. If the company is moving at exploration speed, each burglar can roll to detect the rising pitch of the sound with a 4-in-6 chance (hobbits get a 5-in-6 chance). If the company is moving faster, they can only detect it with a 2-in-6 chance. If successfully detected before it rises, the company can take preventative measures. Burglars carry custom ear muffs as protection.
Once noticeably audible, the Sound effects any who can hear it. Each victim is allowed a Save to plug their ears at the last minute. If successful, they are blind for 1d30 days. If unsuccessful, they are blinded permanently.
Part 2 of my investigation into "What if the Desolation of Smaug was a Zone from Roadsic Picnic?"
Maybe I should have called this series "Hobbits have a Roadside Picnic." Hmmm.
Inns are the haunts of burglars--notorious drunks, all. All of a burglar's tall tales are told there.
"I saw the Old Wyrm making new passageways. He was digging like an earthworm, chomping at the stone. The stone was passing through his long body. The changing gasses were coming out the back."
"I heard the Golden One about a level below us. We ran. But when we came back to the Northwest Guard Chamber, there was a fourth door. I told Fatty to follow me, but he went through the wrong portal. I could hear the blinding sound start up - that's the Wyrm's roar - so I dropped to my knees and pulled my hood over my head. My eyes turned out alright, but I never saw Fatty again."
Both the union delvers and burglars agree that the dungeon's layout doesn't remain static. The current understanding is that there are three different configurations the dungeon can be in based on the phase of the moon when the dungeon is entered.
New moon: The new moon dungeon is entirely the product of the dwarf's craftsmanship: the hall of habitation, the guard posts, the armories, the workshops, the forges, the markets.
Waxing or waning: The dungeon's appearance when the moon is between crescent and full is similar to the new moon dungeon, but rooms with corners have expanded to add new angles: triangular rooms become square rooms, square rooms become octagonal, octagonal rooms become dodecagonal rooms, and dodecagonal rooms become icosagonal. Round rooms are unchanged. New passages, seemingly of dwarf make but unremembered by any map from before the coming of the dragon, connect these expanded rooms together.
Full moon: The full moon dungeon is the largest and most complex. The expanded rooms and passages lead to "new" rooms, halls, and chambers. These rooms appear to have dwarven architecture, but the art and symbiology found there is dreamlike and distorted. In burglar folklore, these new rooms have the deadliest concentration of traps but also the most unlooted swag.
Rumor says that special days of the year or special celestial occurrences (Durin's Day, for instance) reveal entirely new layouts.
"In that land, maybe, we were in a time that has elsewhere long gone by. It was not, I think, until Silverlode bore us back to Anduin that we returned to the time that flows through mortal lands to the Great Sea."
A notable feature of dungeon zones is what burglars call "elf time": a distortion of the passing of time inside the dungeon versus outside the dungeon. Burglars will emerge after burning four torches and be told that they were gone for four days, or a single hour, or an entire month.
For good luck, burglars never call a missing burglar "dead" unless they witnessed the death first hand. They will refer to them as "lost in elf time." (You may explain missing players at your table in this way.)
Rule: When exiting a dungeon, one player should roll a d6. On a roll of 1, elf time has occurred. Roll d20 and consult the chart:
1-4. No time has occurred outside. The burglars seemed to enter and then exit the dungeon within the same minute.
5-10. Time outside the dungeon is twice what the burglars have experienced inside the dungeon.
11-15. A number of days outside the dungeon equal to the number of turns inside the dungeon have elapsed.
16-19. Regardless of how long the delve lasted, the burglars return one month later to the hour.
20. Regardless of how long the delve lasted, the burglars return one year and one day later, to the hour.
I was going to cover traps in this post as well but it got too long. I need to split it up.