Dungeons and (Near) Death
Yesterday marked the glorious return of my Heroes of Legend D&D campaign, which has been on hiatus ever since 3/4 of my players went off to college. With summer here at last, we were free to pick up where we left off. Well, once we got all the players together; that took a couple of weeks. And any eagerness to play until dawn was sabotaged by one player's illness, forcing him to call it an early night. That may seem like a minor setback, but I tend to prefer running my games with everyone at the table, especially in a story-heavy campaign. In the gaming we managed to accomplish, though, I learned a couple of things. One, it's hard to run a "Council of Elrond"-style scene without ending up just talking to yourself; in the future, I'll probably keep meetings smaller and more interactive. Two, I can design a pretty lethal dungeon.
That last took me by surprise, because until now, these characters have stomped all over most of my attempts to challenge them. Granted, a lot of that is because I had a tendency to only present them with obstacles of their level, and not much beyond. But even when I started to ramp up the difficulty, hydras and frost giants were felled with a minimum of fuss. But I think that's mainly because these characters are great at combat. Traps, on the other hand, are another matter entirely.
The dungeon began with a riddle: "Below I am many; above I am many; between I am one. What am I?" Failure to respond correctly would lead to combat with the big ol' robot-thing made of stone. Fortunately, the wizard was on the ball and answered correctly (a tree). So far, so good, except the door revealed when the guardian stepped aside was locked. Quite locked. So locked, in fact, that barring more wizardly intervention (because wizards can get most anything done), the party rogue had to roll a 17 or better on a 20-sided die. For now, with no time constraints, this was not a problem. But very soon, it would be.
The next room featured two doors, one decorated with the image of a sword, the other with an engraving of the sea. Opting for the sword door, the rogue sidled up, tried the door... and unleashed a wall of whirling magical blades down the length of the room. Half the party was cut up fairly badly, and again the door was locked (not to mention partially obscured by slicing magic). Again, the rogue took his time, and managed to open the door. Squeaking by to scout ahead while the rest waited for the blades to vanish, the rogue discovered a long hallway that appeared to switch back the way it had come. He also noticed a bladed pendulum swinging down the next stretch of hallway, a full 60 feet of danger.
Once the party was assembled, a summoned cat was sacrificed to gain insight into the trap's function, and the rogue began to jog for the other end. He managed to avoid the blade, only to discover the hallway led only to another long hallway, heading back the way he had come, with yet another blade. To make a long story short, there were four pendulums, striking whomever entered their hallways. And at the end of the four halls: a locked door. The rogue actually made it far enough to see that delaying tactic before a pendulum cut him down. It eventually took some destructive magic, a bit of healing, and a lot of chopping at pendulum arms before the halls were clear. Three rooms in, and already the party had to recover their strength.
I won't give the details for the rest of the session (quick version: the rogue nearly died again), but it certainly wasn't easy. The odd thing is, most of these traps were pretty much exactly on par with what a party of that level should be facing. Still, I'm glad it's been rough on them; that was sort of the point. The dungeon in question is supposed to have been untouched for thousands of years, simply because nobody ever made it out alive. We'll see how they handle the rest of it, since last session ended with the discovery of the stairs to a lower level. More fun awaits.
A quick side note: this game uses the 3.5 D&D rules, since I started it before 4th edition had yet arrived. I love 4e, but I still enjoy 3.5 a great deal. The trap-filled dungeon has me thinking back even further, though, to D&D as it was originally played. I have PDF copies of the original D&D books (OD&D, as it is commonly known today), and they look like great fun. I also had a minor triumph today, when I discovered the long-lost stats for the Balrog, from a time before the Tolkien estate got wind of what TSR was up to. If I ever run a full-fledged OD&D game, you just know that sucker will make an appearance.
-Sam
That last took me by surprise, because until now, these characters have stomped all over most of my attempts to challenge them. Granted, a lot of that is because I had a tendency to only present them with obstacles of their level, and not much beyond. But even when I started to ramp up the difficulty, hydras and frost giants were felled with a minimum of fuss. But I think that's mainly because these characters are great at combat. Traps, on the other hand, are another matter entirely.
The dungeon began with a riddle: "Below I am many; above I am many; between I am one. What am I?" Failure to respond correctly would lead to combat with the big ol' robot-thing made of stone. Fortunately, the wizard was on the ball and answered correctly (a tree). So far, so good, except the door revealed when the guardian stepped aside was locked. Quite locked. So locked, in fact, that barring more wizardly intervention (because wizards can get most anything done), the party rogue had to roll a 17 or better on a 20-sided die. For now, with no time constraints, this was not a problem. But very soon, it would be.
The next room featured two doors, one decorated with the image of a sword, the other with an engraving of the sea. Opting for the sword door, the rogue sidled up, tried the door... and unleashed a wall of whirling magical blades down the length of the room. Half the party was cut up fairly badly, and again the door was locked (not to mention partially obscured by slicing magic). Again, the rogue took his time, and managed to open the door. Squeaking by to scout ahead while the rest waited for the blades to vanish, the rogue discovered a long hallway that appeared to switch back the way it had come. He also noticed a bladed pendulum swinging down the next stretch of hallway, a full 60 feet of danger.
Once the party was assembled, a summoned cat was sacrificed to gain insight into the trap's function, and the rogue began to jog for the other end. He managed to avoid the blade, only to discover the hallway led only to another long hallway, heading back the way he had come, with yet another blade. To make a long story short, there were four pendulums, striking whomever entered their hallways. And at the end of the four halls: a locked door. The rogue actually made it far enough to see that delaying tactic before a pendulum cut him down. It eventually took some destructive magic, a bit of healing, and a lot of chopping at pendulum arms before the halls were clear. Three rooms in, and already the party had to recover their strength.
I won't give the details for the rest of the session (quick version: the rogue nearly died again), but it certainly wasn't easy. The odd thing is, most of these traps were pretty much exactly on par with what a party of that level should be facing. Still, I'm glad it's been rough on them; that was sort of the point. The dungeon in question is supposed to have been untouched for thousands of years, simply because nobody ever made it out alive. We'll see how they handle the rest of it, since last session ended with the discovery of the stairs to a lower level. More fun awaits.
A quick side note: this game uses the 3.5 D&D rules, since I started it before 4th edition had yet arrived. I love 4e, but I still enjoy 3.5 a great deal. The trap-filled dungeon has me thinking back even further, though, to D&D as it was originally played. I have PDF copies of the original D&D books (OD&D, as it is commonly known today), and they look like great fun. I also had a minor triumph today, when I discovered the long-lost stats for the Balrog, from a time before the Tolkien estate got wind of what TSR was up to. If I ever run a full-fledged OD&D game, you just know that sucker will make an appearance.
-Sam