I ought to follow up on my own posts more often than I do. I have this nagging insecurity that once I put something out there, I need to move on. It’s an obsession with novelty that really isn’t helpful. Some ideas deserve to be revisited, and developed further.
A couple months back, I sketched out a list of twenty architectural features that would make dungeons more memorable. Part of the goal there was to solve the blank page problem, to give myself a better starting place for a dungeon than “Well, I guess it needs an entrance…” To help me make dungeons that are interesting not just for what’s in them, but also interesting for how the floorplan is laid out.
It seems like a natural progression here is to put theory into practice, and make a dang dungeon using those principals. So, I’ve rolled 3d20 on the list, and tried to incorporate a river, a mix of natural and crafted spaces, and an area that can be seen but not easily accessed into a single dungeon. The resulting map is uglier even than I intended for it to be, (I’m no Gus L.), but I think it will serve.
I originally intended for this post to include 3 such dungeons, but it’s a ding-dang long process sketching out a dungeon even as rudimentary as this one and making it presentable. So you’ll take one dungeon and you’ll like it! >:(
This dungeon is built into the lowest plateau of a strange, stepped mountain, far to the north where the summers are short and the people are hard. It was constructed just a few years ago by the folk of the nearby village, though they do not remember doing so. One day, they simply dropped everything, took up their tools, and wandered en masse towards the plateau to set themselves to work.
Eight years passed in hard labor. Those children too young to work died of neglect as their parents mindlessly chiseled stone, stopping only to mechanically eat and sleep. Then the construction was complete, and everyone woke up knowing that time had passed, but recalling nothing of those eight years. Not a one of them dared enter the structure they had made.
They returned to their homes and their lives, insomuch as they could. They try not to think too hard about the mysterious structure they built just a few miles distant. But on cloudy nights, when there are no moon or stars in the sky, it’s impossible not to notice the processions of ghostly red lights moving sometimes towards that place, and sometimes away from it.
The entry chamber is 4 stories tall, with a massive featureless statue standing between two winding stairways. If any living thing tries to leave, the statue will come to life and prevent them from doing so. Just placing its arm across the passage would be enough to stop anyone not equipped with picks and explosives and hours of free time in which to work.
Not far from the entrance is a room bisected by bars of milky white metal. On the near side are carpets on which a person could kneel in worship. On the far side is a throne, in which rests a withered corpse.
This is the Dread Lich, which once blighted a distant land no local will have ever heard of. When its phylactery was destroyed, it retreated here, half a world away from those who sought its destruction. Here it will rest and recuperate until all who remember it are long dead. Then, it will return to take vengeance on their descendants.
The white metal bars are sufficient to absorb any magic, and will shift to deflect any attack, directed beyond them. The Dread Lich has only one existence now, and has no wish to risk destruction needlessly.
In the south are the pens. There are people here, children really, between 12 and 19 years old. They are runaways from families in the area, though none of them wanted to be. They could hear themselves say what they said to their families, they watched themselves flee as if from a distance, but could not control their bodies until they had run all the way here, and locked themselves into these pens.
The floors are a cold red stone, which drains their vitality. Gradually they will grow sick. When they die, the stone will absorb even their bones.
At the center of the dungeon is a curious sort of crater, open to the sky above, with sheer cliffs rising on every side. A river pours in from the higher plataeus, creating a verdant little microbiome here, with small populations of animals not seen in the surrounding region. This area could serve as an alternate entrance or exit, if the players have sufficient climbing gear or skill.
Leading off from here is a small series of natural caverns, where a dragon has taken up residence. It believes it has done so of its own free will, abandoning a horde of gold to satisfy its desires for a colder climate. Why a reptilian creature would have such desires is anybody’s guess…
In the northernmost part of the dungeon, stairs lead down to an underground lake, which glows red with a swirling horde of spectral minds that have no proper place in this world.