The Sewer Level

This post is part Dungeon23 update, part play-report for the first (albeit brief) test-runs of said mega-dungeon project. 

The month of August was the time for a sewer level!

Dungeon23 as a yearlong project has seen lots of internal changes, at least in my experience. I've changed notebooks, changed design philosophy, and I think the dungeon itself has undergone as many conceptual changes in my mind as it has just sheer progress. Does everyone constantly tinker with how they operate and do things? Or are there some out there who've been plugging away in their Hobonichi Planners all year?

None can say, but I'm quite curious.

I brainstormed all the cool stuff I'd want to stick in a sewer, divided them into four sections, and devoted a full two-page spread to each of the four corners/sections of the level. Then I scanned them and stitched them together in Photoshop. Despite missing some crosshatching here and there (because of the folds of the notebook) I was very happy with it! Behold:

Dungeon23 has been so rewarding, having tangible evidence of my hard work and getting to see my drawing skills noticeably improve. This is so much nicer than January! Whole heaps better...

Some thoughts while I'm rambling:

• I could've put more visible water sources. It's visibly a sewer, but there are so many "sunken" elements in it that you need the title to know at a glance.
  
• Maybe I'm over thinking!
• The middle node "The Great Drain" exists as a rotating room. It starts off try, then cycles between dry and wet. I never found a good way to show off what the room looks like wet on the map, but maybe I'll change that.
• The giant skeleton began as just the skeleton, then the bowl came about, then the crabs...particularly proud of it! :)

I fell off the wagon planning ahead-of-time for September, and I've sort of fallen into a "design phase". I keep thinking of how I want to lay out the next few levels of my mega dungeon, stuck in a loop of wanting to get it right the first time instead of just...DOING it. Which I know I should stop! But I've also had so many thoughts on where I want to take the dungeon, that I can't help but go back to the drawing board.

That's the thing about it...I know I'll catch up. Even if I truly "fall behind" it will only take an evening of my life to get back on track.  

PLAYTESTING

To fuck around is human, to find out is divine.

I moved at the beginning of August, living with two roommates and a greater abundance of space to host games. Just the timing I need to start an open gaming table, to meld story with rules, giving Myr Regath some life!

We've gotten to play 4 times since it's started. I've already had some valuable lessons from trying to actually run this dungeon. Some of my thoughts:

• Too green, too big!
• Back in January/February when I was first developing my muscles, I was drafting levels on sheets of grid-paper. Y'know, the kind you get from office depot? Desperate to try and learn as much as possible, I filled up those pages.
• Now it's six months later, I'm actually trying to run the damn thing, and the maps are too damn big! The first level has a sunken portion of the city gates, and it took up my entire chessex map when some players fell down on top of it.
  
• This lesson has value: I've been going back over earlier levels and trying my best to condense them into a space that will fit onto my (pretty standard) reusable chessex battle map. It doesn't have to be 1:1 level:vinyl map, but I'm gonna try and get as close to parity as possible.
   
• Player mapping will be the way forward
• I haven't run a long-term dungeon crawl in so long (and have been running 5E for so long) that I forgot I'm not required to manage 100% of the responsibilities for making the game happen. I used gaming paper to chart out most of the first level, but I'll be stopping there. I'm very curious how my language describing the rooms matches up with what is "mapped", and having players try to reckon with it will give me even more data.
   
• Never use a subtable if you don't mean it

I had a fun experience using Justin Alexander's Escaping the Dungeon table.

 I introduced it at the start of a session that ended mid-fight. I explained that it's one option for ending the session, should the party not agree that they can all come back next week (or they just want to pull the ripcord). Knowing they were returning to a fight with two fewer PCs, they readily agreed!

For those not familiar with the table, while it does contain the possibility of death, it's meant to be dramatic threats that provide some impetus towards escaping. I set a difficulty of 85% chance of success since they a) had a clear path of exit and b) generally knew where they were.

My friend Marcus had the worst possible luck, and it was equal parts hilarious and shocking.

He rolled an 8 on a D100 - he then proceeded to roll an 8 on the "Failed Escapes" D10 Table. This is a 3% likelihood all told, and it meant "You have died".

Since this was the very beginning of the session (and Marcus had had nothing but terrible rolls last session) I gave him an ultimatum: something bad happens in your escape. Convince me of something cooler that happens as a result of sustaining a big injury on your way out.

His PC was named Humphrey. His class was Violent, his ancestry Egg (Tough), his failed profession Breakfast. Marcus thought on his feet, saying that sustaining a grievous injury from falling rocks on their way out has actually freed him: the egg was his prison, and instead of dying he has merely ascended to his next life form: a loose egg yolk.

Pure genius, of course I rewarded him and let him keep playing!

I gave Humphrey a -1 to his Physique, and a random roll gave him +1 Presence. This created some drama from the failed escape - they watch their compatriot get brained by falling masonry, and his "true" form slithers out of the shell and keeps running - while not making Marcus feel like he was punished solely for his terrible luck.

I shouldn't have used the failed escape subtable because I wasn't prepared for instant-death. I should've picked one failed escape that could've added some drama, but this was the best possible scenario. Marcus has acquired new goals from this alteration: his egg man has entered a new life cycle, existing as a loose yolk pushing itself into a human-enough shape to wear armor, and his new goal is to get baked into a brownie or some other dessert. Gold, Jerry!

More play reports to come, as sessions unfold. This post was originally ready only a couple days into September, but I held off because I hit a mental block with Myr Regath. I am now getting back on the wagon, having some more thoughts on the very weird level I have planned for September: a level of space-time distortions, that I finally know how to execute!