The Sunfall Cycle Playtesting Rules: Character Creation, "Dark Souls," The Clock

Now that we've had two episodes of The Sunfall Cycle, it's time to look at some smaller rules.

Let's take a look at this part of the dungeon:

Character Creation Rules

• Allowed books are: Player’s Handbook, Xanathar’s Guide, Dungeon Master’s Guide
• I've allowed these books specifically mostly because they're the books I own!  Also, I personally am not a huge fan of monstrous PCs, because I like my monsters to be truly monstrous.  If players can be Goblins just as easily as Human, then all of a sudden, slaying a dungeon full of Goblins becomes an exercise in grotesquery.  But if Goblins are the fantasy equivalent of the xenomorph... let's just say that, colonialist underpinnings of D&D aside, that's a world structure I'm more comfortable playing in.
• Stats: standard array, point buy, or rolled
• Geoff (Armaros) decided to roll his stats; he rolled a wider spread, with some obvious peaks and valleys.  His original roll was even worse, so I let him reroll two new results, and then trade out one of his low rolls for one of the new results.  Ultimately, I think he's got a pretty balanced set of stats!  (18, 15, 13, 9, 7, 11)
• No feats, no multiclassing- working together and playing clever is the key to success in the dungeon!
• A certain structure of D&D since 3rd Edition has valued powergaming and optimized builds.  I want this game to be about learning how to play D&D better as a team, rather than learning how to take the proper character options to powergame your own individual character.  For that reason, there's no feats or multiclassing in The Sunfall Cycle.  I'm hoping this not only pushes more group cooperation, but also pushes my players to rely more on cleverness than on taking strong feats.

Dark Souls Rules

• Entering the dungeon from the Gardens of the Moon, taking a long rest at a Sunfire Brazier, or a party wipe all cause combat encounters to respawn.  Certain modifications to the dungeon are unchanged by this; opened doors, secret passages, ladders, elevators, or other shortcuts- once activated- remain available even after these events.
• Certain enemies in the dungeon have been "shadowburned"- burned skin, black pools of shadow for eyes.  For whatever reason, when time is reset, these foul creatures return.  Though no one knows what foul energies control the life force of these creatures- they're certainly not undead- perhaps answers lie deeper within the palace complex itself...
• 5th Edition Dungeons & Dragons asserts that a single "adventuring day" can contain as many as 6-8 encounters; a number I've never seen reached in my four years of playing.  The Sunfall Cycle emulates Soulsborne rules in order to encourage players to push themselves further; players low on spells and hit points, knowing their progress through the dungeon will be reset, might choose to press on and fight with ingenuity rather than saying "let's camp for the night."
• In the style of Dark Souls, unlocking a powerful shortcut can be almost as rewarding as locating the next Sunfire Brazier.
• You may only take a long rest at a Sunfire Brazier.  This takes no time; simply touching the warmth of the Sunfire Brazier is sufficient to restore yourselves.
• But triggering this ritual also resets time, and returns all shadowburned creatures to their single-minded existence... 
• You may take a short rest anywhere; a short rest costs 10 minutes.
• The lengths of light and rests have been adjusted to correspond to a clock- detailed below- with 10 segments, where each segment is 10 minutes long.  This allows for clear and concise time keeping, as well as putting a pressure on players to achieve goals within a comprehensible time frame.  The pressure of the clock motivates players to efficiency!
• If any characters die in combat, a survivor can revive all fallen players with 10 minutes of medical attention.
• This one action revives all fallen players, restoring them to 1hp.
• If these characters want to take a short rest to recover from their plight... that's another 10 minutes off the clock!  Losing a character in a fight isn't the end, but definitely throws a wrench in the party's plans.
• Characters revived in this way take 1 level of Exhaustion.
• Characters who die are not removed from play, but there IS a long-term penalty to the group's total efficiency if characters die in combat!  Exhaustion slows down the affected character, reducing their contributions.  Death isn't the end, but it's still something to be avoided.
• A single Long Rest removes all levels of Exhaustion, and all spent Hit Dice.
• Given that a long rest no longer takes any time, but is more like a magical ritual, there's no benefit to having Exhaustion removed 1 step at a time, or to returning half of the PCs' hit dice.  Taking a long rest is intended to be the "okay you all start fresh, but so does the dungeon"- let's skip over everything else and get right back into it.
• If the party wipes, you all awaken in the Gardens of the Moon, fully restored.
• I think we'll find out a little more about what's happening here... in time....

The Clock

Due to strange forces and arcane magics unseen, the dungeon is slowly collapsing in time- when the dungeon finally collapses, you respawn at your last Sunfire Brazier, and the clock is refilled.

• Every time you enter the dungeon, you have 10 segments on the clock before the dungeon collapses.
• Each Segment is 10 minutes long!
• This gives the dungeon a clear structure; there are 10 "major events" that can happen before everything resets.  Every time something big happens, I can just check off one segment from the clock.
• The following actions tick down 1 segment off the clock:
• Fighting a fight.  Between the combat itself and catching your breath after, a fight advances the clock.
• Taking a short rest.  You must dedicate your collective efforts to recovery during this period.
• Common skill-based actions that invoke a risk of discovery or failure: Picking a lock, Disarming a trap, Hacking down a door, Climbing a challenging ascent, etc.
• Any improvised action that would take a decent chunk of time and effort- for example, carrying a crate of heavy stone statue pieces from a few rooms away and down a narrow flight of spiral stairs.
• Having an extended conversation with an NPC, when the GM deems it appropriate.  Talking amongst yourselves will never advance the clock.
• These events ticking down segments of the clock makes time tracking easier, and also imposes clear penalties for the classic "I try bashing down the door AGAIN, until I succeed!"  Every failure is a strike against the clock.
• The pressure of the clock encourages players to work together, to be clever, to focus on their objectives for this foray into the dungeon, and rewards lucky skill check rolls while imposing a reasonable consequence for failed skill checks- something that traditionally doesn't exist in Dungeons & Dragons.
• Having a clock with 10 segments of 10 minutes each also asks for a reevaluation of the duration of light sources;
• Candles burn for 30 minutes and then are gone.
• Torches have a 10 minute "use interval"- the first is free, test at the end of the second to see if you're "low", once you're low you're out.  Torches last at least 30 minutes, but on average, 50-60.  You'll probably need two to light your full delve.
• Lamps have a 20 minute "use interval"- lamps last at least 60 minutes, but on average 100-120; so you're likely to get through a full delve with a single flask of oil.

That's it?

Yep!  That's it.  What are your thoughts?  Questions?  Comments?  Concerns?  Fire away in the comments section below!

30 Minutes: Monsters

(Okay, I actually spent 60 minutes writing...)

CW: death, drowning, body horror.

I'm updating the seed to 2d6, aka 11 possibilities!  Better bell curve.

2: Essay: "Concerning ________" (roll again; on this result, Concerning Players) 

3: Dungeons

4: Tricks

5: Treasure
6: Npcs
7: Gods
8: Adventure Hooks
9: Monsters
10: Traps
11: Dungeon Rooms

12: Diseases or Poisons

The Dice Roll:

2d6 result: 9: Monsters

Incrementing the Chart

For next time:

2: Diseases or Poisons

3: Essay: "Concerning ________" (roll again; on this result, Concerning Players) 

4: Dungeons

5: Tricks

6: Treasure
7: Npcs
8: Gods
9: Adventure Hooks
10: Monsters
11: Traps
12: Dungeon Rooms

Monsters

The average monster stat block fails to inspire me pretty significantly.  The average monster description isn't much better.  I've been trying to think about what it is about some monsters that light my fire, while many don't!  I think perhaps the thing about monsters is they're only as scary as their fictional positioning- and most modern Monster Manuals don't deliver on the promise of the Monster, from a fictional positioning perspective.  Slender Man isn't scary because he has 15' reach and if he hits he strangles for 2d6 damage each round.  Slender Man is scary because of where he lives, and how he expresses threat, and the targets he chooses- because of his fictional positioning.

Especially when so many monsters are just... intelligent races that attack the "Good" races?  Why am I killing these goblins and orcs again?  Shouldn't we send some emissaries to negotiate with them?  Establish trade?  Help relieve their environmental pressures so they stop attacking us?

Is a goblin just a "short green humanoid with sharp teeth, sharp nose, sharp ears, and sharp eyes?  They favor sharp daggers and love to pretend they're surrendering, before redoubling the attack?"  

"They shout Bree-Yark?"

Goblins

Or is a goblin the manifestation of greed- the greed humans feel for the things other humans own?  Living things, mostly.  First they come for small working animals- cats, dogs.  Vanished in the night, stolen from the edges of civilized land.  Sometimes they show up later, slain- a warning.  The first sign of goblin infestation is often, in fact, rats- an overabundance of rats, where cats and small dogs would once have kept them at bay.  But goblins don't stop there.  An untreated goblin infestation grows- one goblin is a threat, five an atrocity.  

After pets, livestock are stolen away at night- prized cows, sheep, goats disappeared or slain, their meat spoiled.  After livestock... children... and then adults.  You might catch glimpses of them in the woods- their pale white almost translucent skin flashing as they duck into the brush.  At night, the glow of their eyes can make you think that lost pet is just lurking out of sight, maybe a bit feral now.  You might approach, hand held out, a treat extended to coax Whiskers back to you... this is a mistake.

Goblins never attack unless they are sure of the kill, and they are excellent at staying hidden.  Their needle sharp fangs drive straight for the throat, their claws razor sharp to rend skin.  They don't eat or drink from what they kill- nobody knows how they subsist.  The infest the dark crevices of the earth, yes, but where possible, they prefer the abandoned remnants of humanity.  They act out mock plays of life in there, small rituals, cooking eating, spats and feuds, ritual without substance, almost like clockwork.  If they are ever seen engaging in this, they fly into a frenzy- they will accept no evidence of their secret pantomimes.

"Okay" you might say.  "So a cat goes missing, the town gets their torches, and flushes the goblin out of the woods and slay it.  No big threat."

Right?

Only, Goblins have an instinct for choosing their targets.  The farmer who had a bad year, the one everyone looks down on?  The man trying to raise his two boys, who everyone whispers about?  The hedge witch whose services everyone needs, and resents needing?  When these people run through town, tears on their face, pleading and panicked... who listens?

The pain of the Goblin is that they target those who are the most genuinely attached to what they hold dear- and also the least likely to elicit sympathy from their peers.  In this way the Goblins grow, drip fed, until it is too late...

There are rumors of occasional towns who have had Goblin infestations vanish- usually after some wide-spread common outcry, mock trial, and sentencing of someone very well established and connected.  Usually the person who, for some reason or other, is benefiting the most as a byproduct of the attacks and uncertainty.  The Coveter In Chief.

But we all know how likely that is.

Monsters

Monsters, then, aren't just "apex predators" or "bad people-things"- monsters are inextricably tied to our humanity.

The Tentacleel

There is a stream in the woods where once lovers lay.  They would meet there, and whisper sweet songs into each others ears.  A popular spot, spoken of behind hands, in shadow.  Where the sun shines bright on the banks, and a strong tree grows out over the swift and deep currents- perhaps a rope hangs from its bough.

We all know the place.

Swift, cold water hides many dangers, but is it not the folly of youth to believe their invincibility?

"You should have been more careful"

"I warned you that boy was nothing but heartbreak"

"I told you not to go to the stream"

The tentacleel wants nothing so much as warmth and companionship.  It is drawn to the places where such things are on display, and it waits.  It waits, until that joyous moment when a companion deigns to join it, deep in the dark waters, so warm and soft.  The tentacleel holds on tight, as long as it can- days, certainly- sometimes weeks.  Until there's nothing left to hold, until everything has sifted out, washing downstream.  

But that's okay.  Mourners so often pay it visits, that it's just a matter of time, really.

Death Adder

It is a fact of life that life is finite- and this the Death Adder understands above all.

A hunter may occasionally come across the carcass of some wild beast, slain or fallen as a result of its natural circumstances.  At first glance, everything may seem normal- but a sharp eye will spot a pool of shadow under the creature's mouth.  A thick, scaled skin, shed- winding back into the corpse.  The Death Adder's leavings, coated in a contact venom that causes a hot, searing pain, and leaves behind a wicked burn, small at first, which grows with the years.

The Death Adder is no threat, unless accosted.  Its bite is an aging venom- the skin dries, the hair greys, the eyes wrinkle.  But it bites only under duress.  Humanity hates the Death Adder, because humanity hates death.

The Death Adder finds comfort in the presence of those who are near to death.  It will often be found coiled underneath a newborn's crib, an invalid's bed.  Around the bell of a church's tower; in the dark corner of an infirmary basement.  Wallowing in the mud of an impending battlefield.

Those who have seen it insist that the doomed can be saved if the Adder is removed... but this is rarely achieved.  It is a stubborn beast.  Many make the attempt- fire, sword, axe, pitchfork... the sick bed is moved, the invalid encouraged to take air.  The Death Adder desires nothing so much as to remain in its chosen locale... waiting.

After the beloved passes beyond the veil, the only sign that remains of the beast is often a long, gossamer skin, dried and crinkly.

Of course, humanity hates the Death Adder for a second reason as well.

Nobody enjoys watching a newborn serpent shedding, sliding out of the mouth of a recently deceased loved one.

20 Minutes: Tricks

Today's 2d4 Seed:

2: Treasure
3: Npcs
4: Gods
5: Adventure Hooks
6: Monsters
7: Traps
8: Tricks

Roll result: 8: Tricks

Tricks

Tricks are odd encounters in dungeons.  Some rooms contain treasures, and that's good.  Some rooms contain traps or monsters, and that's bad.  But some rooms contain tricks... and who knows what's going on with them?

Tricks are the things that make the players stop and proceed with caution.  The 30 seconds of prep you spend writing a line that starts "A creepy doll sits on a chair..." that turns into two hours of gameplay.  So let's see what we can come up with in 20 minutes?

1. Blood stained letters scrawled on the far wall: "WAS I NOT WORTHY?"  In the center of the room, channels gouged into the rock of the floor, in the circle-and-runes shape of some arcane ritual, connecting four small basins at the cardinal directions- currently dry.  A faint magic aura can be detected.
• If the four basins are filled with blood, the channels also fill.  When the blood flows to the center and fills the channels, a Sleep spell discharges on everyone in the area.  Anyone who sleeps in this room (at any time, spell or no) has dreams of intense disapproval from whichever god they worship.
2. A door with a gaping demon-maw forged in bronze in the center of it, where a doorknob should be.  Deep in the mouth, about a forearm-length back, you can juuuust make out the latch for the door.  A faint magic aura can be detected.  The handle must be grabbed and manipulated in order to open the door.  There's a clasp on the back that a finger has to pull.  Each time the player says "okay, I press the clasp," describe how another clasp pops out- requiring another finger to pull it.  
• Secretly roll 1d4+4: that is how many clasps pop out.  Every time beyond number 5, the player who is manipulating the door grows one additional finger to press the next clasp that has popped out.
• These new additional fingers live for 24 hours.  Having extra fingers gives advantage on sleight of hand, picking locks, disarming traps, or other tasks requiring manual dexterity.  One finger falls off at the end of each subsequent 24 hour period, and then begins inching in the direction of the closest undiscovered treasure.  No two fingers will head for the same treasure stockpile- they split up.
• When a finger reaches its selected treasure stockpile it pupates; if left alone overnight, it morphs into giant mucosoid fingers defending the goods (fight as a Carrion Crawler).
3. An ornamental cigar humidor of mahogany and oak- well polished.  Has- would you believe it??- just enough cigars for the current adventuring party.
• Once a cigar is lit- any one of these cigars, no matter where the players are- a spectral ghost appears, forming out of the smoke!  They are a jovial creature, delighted to see the players, and ravenous for news of the world- after all, it has been so long since they've had any.  They light up their own cigar, invite everyone else to join in (insist, really- they refuse to proceed with niceties until everyone is well situated and participating)- and then beg for details and news- of course, they promise to tell the players all manner of interesting and quest-relevant details once they're satisfied.  Once details and news are exhausted, they beg for performances and showmanship.  Once performances and showmanship are exhausted, they are ready to tell the players anything they might want to know.
• ... It's a shame all the cigars burn out JUST before the jovial spirit is able to say the most important words the players want so desperately to know.

That does it for our 20 minute (okay, 16- I had to seed the random table first) sprint of brainstorming!  I'll see if I can't come back often and make a new roll for a sprint brainstorm.  Cheers!

Seeding the Table

For next time!

2: Tricks

3: Treasure
4: Npcs
5: Gods
6: Adventure Hooks
7: Monsters
8: Traps

6 Dungeon Rooms

1. A rotten library, filled with shelves.  There's a handful of books that remain worthwhile hidden in the stacks- spend 10 minutes and roll a DC20/15 Perception test to search.  If you roll 20 or above, you find the book you need.  If you roll 15-19, the book is there... but it's in the hands of a damn flying monkey, who pokes its head out and chatters at you loudly.  Careful with your attacks, don't want to damage the text...
2. In each corner of the room, an iron statue of a woman with a veiled face, ropes coiled at the feet of each statue.  On the far wall, a door that says "please go away."  If you leave, nothing happens.  If you approach within 5' of the door, the iron maidens spring open, and the ropes come to life, lashing out to drag party members slowly towards the waiting spiked containers.
3. A giant frog sits in the center of a room, on wooden floorboards.  He slaps his hands wetly against the ground when he sees you.  Around him are a scattering of objects- a broken chair, an old shirt, etc- but also a brass lantern; a fine silk rope, coiled expertly; a swirling vial of silvered liquid; a finely honed longsword.  If you talk to him, he says only: "BRAAAP.  BRING ME...." (roll 1d6)
1. HEAVY
2. LONG
3. WET
4. GREEN
5. ALIVE
6. (roll twice and combine, ignoring further 6's)
4. Along the back wall are six valuable urns sitting on a mantlepiece.  In front of them, a heavy stone statue with burning red eyes and a baleful glare!  It's unbelievably slow and heavy- it can only move 5' per round.  However, every time it stomps forwards 5', one of those priceless urns slides forwards right off the shelf, crashing to the ground....  He hits like a truck, too.
5. In the center of the chamber, a chasm, spanned by a long rope bridge.  About 30' before the bridge, a large, green slime- placid, unconcerned.  It doesn't really care about you.  Hanging above the close side of the bridge, an odd packet of cloth about the size of a waste basket, tied around with rope.  The air smells sickly sweet and sulfurous.
• Stepping onto the bridge, the three kobold archers far on the other side pop out and fire on the bundle of cloth, breaking it open- rotten meats and fruits and mushrooms spill out onto the bridge.
• The large green slime- if left intact- slowly oozes over onto the rope bridge to get at the bounty.... its acids working away at the ropes.
6. A crystal cavern, redolent with crystals of all sizes that tinkle with slight chimes as you pass.  12 large crystals stand tall around the room, each reverberating with a different note on the scale.  Whatever song the players play first by striking the crystals, an Angel of Law and Music appears.
• If it was a good song, the angel is pleased, and whispers one of the words of Musical Order into a proffered weapon, which becomes a +1 Weapon of Law (+1 when wielded by a lawful creature, or when attacking a chaotic creature).  Once per day, a Bard can strike this weapon against a hard surface as a part of their use of Bardic Inspiration, in order to increase the size of their Bardic Inspiration die by one step.
• If it was a bad song, turn up Beethoven's 9th symphony (first movement) and play it loud.  The angel attacks the player of the song that summoned it, for as long as the first movement is playing.

On the Nature of The Dungeon

On the subject of the dungeon, there is but one comfort, and it is this: the dungeon is an entity, and, like all entities, it can be described.

The nature of the dungeon is that of subversion.

If you are lucky, the dungeon has been a known place.  It was your place once, a place that belonged to you, or to people like you.  Even if they were a very different people, they were far more like you than not, and their place was far more like the places you know than it has now become.  It was very likely built for a purpose, to be used and to exist in ways that are familiar to you.  It was a home, or a workplace, or a storage space; a defensible location, a place of strength and purpose.  The people and creatures in it were known, they operated by rules and laws that you intuit, that you can feel in your bones.  Rules and laws that wrap around you in a bustling marketplace- you feel them in a lecture hall- you feel them walking down the street, sitting in the theatre, pouring a glass of wine, pulling bread out of the oven.  Even when you pick the lock, when you slice the throat, when you lift the vase- even then, the rules and laws of the known blanket you in a soft comfort.  You are at home.

In the dungeon, you are not at home.  It may look like home- it may even try to convince you that you feel at home.  But you are not, and if you believe its lies, you will die.  The dungeon is anathema to you.  The creatures that live in it are not like you, the people in it follow a life at angles to your own.  But do not make the mistake of believing the dungeon has no rule, for if you believe that, too, you will die.

The dungeon follows a rule and a law that is utterly alien to you.  It is the rule and law of the abandoned school, of the marketplace suddenly empty and silent, of the zoological park at night as the animals stare you down, their eyes saying "we know what you are."  The entities that exist there, they move through the space in ways you can't.  They occupy hallways as if they were rooms, and move through rooms as if they were stairs.  They sleep in the lavatory, and eat in the study.  Their needs are wholly different from yours.  Perhaps they feed off of salt, slowly accruing it in vast pockets of alkali venoms stored in their pallid grey flesh.  Perhaps they desire only to insert themselves into a thought, returning and returning until no other thought remains.  But mostly, mostly, they have nothing to do with you at all.

The dungeon does not care about you, for the dungeon is beyond you.  It has become.  It is new, whole.  It is its own entity now, where once it was only a place to be used by you.  And make no mistake, like all entities, the dungeon lives.  It breathes, it eats, it produces waste.

It grows.

Above all, it grows.  The dungeon seeks ever to expand.  First, the worms move in, slowly opening cracks in walls where there were no cracks, creating doors where no doors should be.  The dungeon opens into the earth, reaching out, seeking to touch its companions.  Seeking to join with its kind.  Then the dungeon seeks sustenance.  The scavengers and hoarders move out, stretching across the land, stealing, devouring, returning, collecting.  Food, yes- but more importantly, power.  The power of gold, of capital- the power to bend the weak minded to its will, the power of greed.  The raw power of arcana- the ancient, the mystic, the reagent, the solvent.  It needs this to fuel its continual becoming.  Finally, the wastes begin to flow.  Inhabitants of the dungeon that straddle the boundaries between the known world and the dungeon begin venturing out.  They seek violence, predation, dominion.  And the psychic effluvia of the dungeon infests everything around it.  Ordinarily satisfied men and women turn their heads, looking at the horizon, unknowing, in its direction.  Surely, they think- surely it will be different for me.

It never is.

Let them come, says the dungeon.  They, too, are a part of me, now.

All this, of course, if the dungeon was, in fact, known.  There is another face of the dungeon, too- that which has never been known, but instead, was merely hidden, locked away.  It is the dungeon's oldest face.  After the known parts have been sacked, the treasures removed, the magics stolen away, the creatures slain, their blood sprayed across the walls, holy rituals intoned, mountains of earth and rock and mortar and blood sealed into place.  After the known has been reclaimed, erased, made clean, the fears soothed, calming words spoken, griefs expressed, and tears shed.

After all this, the dungeon yet lives- behind the wall, in the crack, in the blood and in the stone.  It grows away from its momentary defeat, opening itself inside the earth, reaching, searching.

The dungeon

IS.

Dungeons & Dark Souls

Or: "How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love The Delve"

So a while back I had an idea...

I’ve been struck by an idea, recently.

A D&D game where players are piecing together the lore of what happened in a ruined world by examining its artifacts- a la SoulsBorne games.

— Steven "Is there a God Of Just SOME Cats?" Lumpkin (@Silent0siris) March 2, 2018

You’re some kind of Planar Affiliate delving into ruined pocket planes to figure out what the hell happened there! Most people are dead, and the ones who are alive all have an agenda- but artifacts carry the imprint of their truth upon them, and your librarian can read it.

— Steven "Is there a God Of Just SOME Cats?" Lumpkin (@Silent0siris) March 2, 2018

I'm imagining heavy use of a virtual tabletop directly AS a library space / lore puzzle space.

Lore cards with information about the artifacts you've had. You can move them around, restructure the tabletop... Probably there's no "right answer" that's rewarded!

— Steven "Is there a God Of Just SOME Cats?" Lumpkin (@Silent0siris) March 2, 2018

So that was all interesting, but that was maybe an entirely separate RPG.  But the other part I was really interested in pushing on is 5th Edition's concept of "the adventuring day"- especially the Dungeon Master's Guide's assertion that a party of 4 should be fighting between six and eight medium to hard encounters before needing a long rest.  This assertion has always surprised me, from the beginning, and I don't think I've EVER run a game of 5th that actually hit that marker- my players have always elected to take a long rest early.

So... what if there was a game that was set up explicitly to push against that daily limit?

Read on.

Just blew this thing wide open.

Works well with 5e: insert into mega dungeon, get as far as you can, trying to grab your reward. Extract at any time, must extract to take a long rest; dungeon resets once you extract.

Intricate, thoroughly jaquayed layout, plus tons of secrets.

— Steven "Is there a God Of Just SOME Cats?" Lumpkin (@Silent0siris) March 2, 2018

Compatible with West Marches style drop in drop out play- each session is a self contained delve, trying to see how far you can get with your current group in the communally shared mega dungeon.

— Steven "Is there a God Of Just SOME Cats?" Lumpkin (@Silent0siris) March 2, 2018

(Jacquayed, a term paying homage to Jennell Jacquays, author of Dark Tower and Caverns of Thracia, meaning to build a convoluted layout with multiple entrances, many interconnecting paths, and many connections between levels- offering players much in the way of choice for how they move through the dungeon space)

Another weird thing that comes out in traditional megadungeon play: My character went to the left, and got blown up by a fireball trap and died.  My new character steps into the dungeon and immediately says "DON'T GO LEFT."

Surely we could look to Dark Souls for some inspiration in how to solve that particular bit of weirdness.

As all game design should be done to solve a problem, let's talk about the problems we're trying to solve:

• How do we push players to continue adventuring to their point of failure?  How do we hit the 8-encounters-per-day limit?
• How do we solve the mental disconnect where characters die, but players retain knowledge of the dungeon from that death?
• How do we give players the ability to make informed choices when exploring a sprawling labyrinthine megadungeon?  How do they decide whether to go left (and maybe get blown up by a fireball?) or go right (and maybe fight some goblins)?

And some answers:

• How do we push players to continue adventuring to their point of failure?  How do we hit the 8-encounters-per-day limit?
• Force players to leave the dungeon to take a long rest.  Encourage players to push as far as they can by adding consequence to resting without reaching a checkpoint- in this case, by making encounters respawn on a long rest.  As a carrot- the objective drawing players forwards- players can reach various checkpoints.  Either a shortcut, allowing them to bypass some encounters, or a new entry point, that lets players enter the dungeon beyond content they've already mastered.
• How do we solve the mental disconnect where characters die, but players retain knowledge of the dungeon from that death?
• Losing a character isn't necessary for "death" to be impactful!  If the players are attempting to push through a certain number of encounters in order to hit a checkpoint, then if a death makes the team weaker overall, it's still something to be avoided.  There's no need to fictionally remove a character who dies!  Effectively, as in Dark Souls, player characters are immortal.
• How do we give players the ability to make informed choices when exploring a sprawling labyrinthine megadungeon?  How do they decide whether to go left (and maybe get blown up by a fireball?) or go right (and maybe fight some goblins)?
• If characters don't truly die, then players are free to learn by trial and error.  They went left and got blown up by a fire trap?  That's fine- they can come back later after they find the stash of fire-resist potions on level 3.  In that way, by running into the problems of the dungeon, players learn to make intelligent and informed choices about how to move through the space in order to accomplish their goals in play.

So what does this turn out to look like in practice?

Game prep game prep pic.twitter.com/jVHNJQbowu

— Steven "Is there a God Of Just SOME Cats?" Lumpkin (@Silent0siris) March 23, 2018

In summary, the rules I'm using at the table look like:

• After combat, a surviving PC can take 5 minutes and spend one use of a healer's kit to restore a dead character to life with 1 hit point.  This resuscitation inflicts 1 level of Exhaustion on the resuscitated character.
• If the party wipes, everyone wakes up in the infirmary outside of The Delve, having fully recovered.
• You may extract from The Delve at any time.
• In order to take a long rest, you must extract from The Delve.
• Every time you enter The Delve, the dungeon is reset.

The emphasis in a dungeon of this style is in seeing how far players can stretch their limited resources before they begin tapping out.

As a short term goal, the dungeon is riddled with secrets- hidden treasure, secret doors, tricks, twists, and traps.  In every play session, players should be able to find something new; perhaps even something new in an area they've already been through... maybe even an area they've been through multiple times.

As a mid term goal, the dungeon is built to be thoroughly complex, with many shortcuts to find and unlock- these don't reset when the players re-enter, so if they open a shortcut on one run, they can use it on a future run.  All of a sudden, when it used to take 5 encounters to reach the Fountain of Crystal Seeing, now that you've opened the portcullis, it only takes 1.

As a long term goal, the dungeon contains multiple insertion points.  Exploring and fighting all the way to a secondary insertion point and unlocking it on discovery means players can then choose where they start from when they enter the dungeon.

As a metagame goal, the dungeon contains hidden information that subtly hints at a story.  Careful examination of the environment and items found may start revealing clues that sharp players can piece together.


So I started building it.

I had my first session on Sunday, which is the subject for another post- but suffice it to say it was a great success, and now my mind is buzzing with more ideas.

I can't wait to tell you more about them.