Maps & Monsters: On Making a Dungeon

With the exceptions of tools and guides, the most viewed posts on this blog are the ones that provide a map and key: plug and play dungeons and dungeon levels which can be incorporated into a home game, wholesale, or which can be mined for ideas and inspiration. Why is this? Dyson is far more prolific and talented than I am at layouts; Donjon has a generator that will create a map for you (and isn't the only one!); and there are countless online resources (the One Page Dungeon Contest archive, for example), that provide virtually endless of the same type of product.

Because they are keyed.

Drawing or finding a map is easy. Keying a map, stocking the map, takes time and not everyone - especially folks with odd or demanding work schedules or *cough cough* young children *cough* have time to devote to it. More so, random generators rarely provide the ever-interesting "Special" result: so keyed maps and modular adventures, wherever you find them, are idea mines. Don't like a map? Doesn't fit your setting? Grab the good stuff and mold it into your game!

Keyed maps and modular adventures are, at their best, plug-and-play sessions and at their worst, idea mines. Knowing that, and knowing that a core competency of mine lies somewhere in that territory, I wanted to elaborate on the method: how I operate. It's not an end-all be-all guide to how to make a map adventure: it's just the procedure I follow when I make dungeons and dungeon levels.

Concept and Theme

First and foremost, you'll want to come up with a concept for the dungeon. What are you trying to accomplish with this dungeon? How will this dungeon fit into a game world? Keep in mind - "I want a dungeon that is a hole in the ground with random critters guarding gold" is a perfectly acceptable and I would argue, to be encouraged, goal! A generic dungeon - especially a small one - can be a welcome diversion from ever-unique and infinite depths. While having too much generic or repetitious elements indeed can make the game more stale, losing the interest of the players, having some or just enough of the classical will encourage player skill - which I will elaborate a bit more about in a bit. Rangers don't get good at ranging without having ranges to range - so to speak: if your player latches on to the hunting of Hobgoblins: let them! It's known as emergent storytelling - if that character survives, it's now the protagonist of a Hobgoblin-hunting memory that you and the player group have created together.

To that end - you may elect to highlight a particular theme: and this is a nebulous term. You can define it to be based on the dungeon's purpose - was this dungeon a library? a prison? - or you can define it based on the dungeon's intended occupancy - is this a lair for goblins? Is this dungeon a fungal cavern that is harvested by various local factions for magic mushrooms? Themes are particularly useful if designing lairs or locations of interest - while not mandatory, they can help guide your imagination during the stocking process.

What is the purpose of the concept, the theme?
The reason you want a concept or theme up front - and the reason it's important that it's up front - is because it will influence how you key and how you map the dungeon. If you go in with a concept in mind, it will be much easier for you to flesh out the encounters, the factions, and the map in a way that engages the players: rather than producing a random series of irregularly shaped boxes containing assortments of treasure and its guardians. Again - randomization is not a bad thing, nor are dungeons with a plethora of creatures: but if that's what you're going for - you want to commit to it: set that as your theme, your goal, as a guard against violating your theme.

Can a dungeon have multiple themes? Yes. That's where factions come from - the area occupied by the cultists should be different than the area that's unclaimed or that is occupied by the Kobolds. In that case, think of that subsection of the dungeon  as it's own dungeon "level" - running through the process of dungeon creation independently for the themed area (primarily, the encounter list and stocking process: mapping, I tend to draw the map holistically first, and amend if needed). The lair element - the area occupied by a particular faction - should fit that faction: and treating it as such will produce a section of dungeon distinct from the rest that fits with how it should be, assuming that there are members of that faction making their home there: the cultists are less likely to have traps on every doorway, for example; or the Kobolds are perhaps less likely to have wandering acolytes on patrol.

Encounter Lists

Wandering Monster List

Based on the level of the map and the design goals of its contents, come up with a wandering monster list. In B/X, a d20 table is presented with different monsters whose number of hit dice match the level of the dungeon - 1 HD monsters on level 1, 2 HD monsters on level 2, and so on. You're absolutely welcome to use the tables out of B/X - or a third party table from a blog or other resource. If you make one yourself, don't feel compelled to have 20 monsters: you can have just six, or you can have 100 - if you want: keep in mind, however, that a wandering monster appears roughly every 12 turns - 1-in-6 chance every other turn - the broader your encounter list is, the less likely your party is to encounter one specific entry on it.

Consider, also, your theme. If you are using a particular type of dungeon, try to craft or select a wandering monster table that reinforces the theme: for example, if you are building a set of catacombs beneath a forgotten mausoleum, rodents or scavengers would be appropriate on upper levels while undead would be more appropriate on lower levels. By reinforcing the theme, the players begin to predict what to expect and will plan accordingly - it does not constitute a failure of the DM for players to prepare properly: one pillar of the game being player skill, if players on a return trip to a dungeon come equipped with spells and items that are more effective against the themed list, that means you've successfully rewarded and encouraged a core tenant of old-school play. If they get the equipment/spell list right on the first try based on the rumors they hear about wherever they are going? You've double succeeded - as the player skill has increased and you've provided a consistent world. That's not to say you can't or shouldn't surprise your characters - but unless you're going for a total fun-house adventure (in which case, disregard this paragraph), surprises should be just that: a surprise. If every room is different, without verisimilitudinous transition, the dungeon will lack cohesion and the game will trend against serious play.

Consider factions - or potential faction play. Don't plan to have every encounter resolve via combat. Instead, think to include elements that may parlay, team up with, or betray the party: combat, apart from being a hazard and a resource drain, hardly makes a memory the same as a non-combat element that the player's made their way out of using their wits and elan.

Consider, last, your mechanism of resolution: Rolling a single die - 1d6, 1d20, 1d%, etc. - offers a flat distribution of probability: that is, each wandering monster on the table is equally likely to come up when you roll for an encounter. If you want preferential treatment - for one or a set of monsters to wander more than others - there are a couple options to solve the problem: first, the most common solution, is wide-ranges on a D% - so, if I am in a Goblin lair and Goblins, Wargs, and Hobgoblins are on the list, logically, I may give "goblins" 20% (results 1-20), "wargs" or "hobgoblins" 15% (results 21-35 and 36-50, respectively), and then divvy up the remaining 50% among other dungeon occupants.

Another option is to use multiple dice - so, 2d6, 3d4, etc. - and put more common elements in the middle. I personally enjoy the multiple-dice approach, as D% seems sterile to me, but be very mindful of the probability curve: if your table is bigger than 2d8, or if your table has more than 2 dice - be mindful that the enemies at either extreme will become incredibly unlikely - with our goblin example, on 2d6, the easiest approximation for a 20% chance for "goblins" would be to key that encounter to both 5 and 9 - which have an 11% chance each. This will preserve your probability from above, but it will reduce the variety in the table: there are 11 possible results on 2d6 - so putting "goblins" onto two of them means a maximum of 9 other monsters will have assignable numbers. Similarly - consider your edges: rolling a 2 on 2d6 is the equivalent of applying just shy of a 3% chance. Increasing the die size to 2d8, the probability of a 2 drops to just shy of 2% - increasing the number of dice to 3d6, a 2 becomes impossible: but the probability of rolling a 3 is right about 0.5%: one half of one percent of rolls. Knowing that - your edge results, with this method, will become rapidly less likely to appear: at an average rate of one encounter every 12 turns, the party will have to be in the dungeon a long time and will encounter a lot of other wandering monsters before these special ones come up. Counter point - the dice love to defy probability: stories of several natural 20s in a row or encountering the 1-in-100 enemy right at the gate of the base town make for most memorable sessions - but regardless of those forum stories and copy-pastas: as personal advice, I would stick to smaller dice and smaller numbers of dice if using this approach.

In recent vintage, I've become enamored of the DX/X approach: that is, D6/6, D8/6, D4/4, etc. - rolling two dice and consulting a nested table. This is - in effect - very similar to the D% approach (which can really be considered D0/0, after all - as my d10s, at least, have a 0 on the tenth face) in that you are rolling two dice - one for the "tens" column and one from the "ones" column - however in reviewing the wilderness encounter tables in the X side of B/X, one finds a prototype version of this sort of table-nesting: for example, rolling a 1 results in "Men" - or a 2, "Flyer. "Men" and "Flyer" both have their own follow-up table - complete with brigands, bandits, etc. and gargoyles, griffins, etc. respectively.

Effectively - Expert, producing wilderness encounters, rolls a D8/12.

Why DX/X and not table references? I like rolling several dice once - not rolling one, looking up the result, and rolling again: so it's quicker for me in play and prep to have a DX/X. Second, presentation for reference - the aforementioned "Men" table is fine, as the wilderness encounter first-table and the appropriate reference table are on the same page - X57 - but "Flyer" on the other hand is a page later on X58. Depending on your printout, flipping back and forth might not be a bad thing - but looking at a table as such on a PDF is problematic - as it's much more of a chore to flip back and forth in a PDF or on a web page than it is to simply leave a physical book or pamphlet open on the desk while you work. DX/X tables are less object-oriented than table references: but they are more usable - especially in an online format.

Stocking Encounter List

Optionally - after having come up with a wandering monster list - you may come up with a special encounter list, or a stocking monster list. This is the list - in my case - that I'll roll on to determine what's in given rooms. It may be a super-set of your wandering monster list - or it may be something totally independent - but in general, it should contain things that would naturally be in the rooms of your dungeon, based on your theme, factions, and other pertinent influences.

How is this different than a wandering monster list? Your wandering monster list will be rolled in play - as such, it represents moving elements. Patrols, commuters, scavengers... these are your wandering monsters. Although it is totally acceptable to populate a dungeon using the wandering monster tables - those wanderers have to bunk somewhere - the purpose of the stocking table is to house, in addition to mobile elements, less mobile elements: thematically appropriate encounters that will not be encountered unless the party discovers them in their nest.

Doesn't Basic tell you that special monsters should be placed intentionally, along with special treasure, and the REMAINING space can be stocked procedurally? Yes. And if you want to do that - do that: in which case, this optional stocking encounter list, I don't create. The reason I include it, and the reason I use it when making dungeons that I don't have a particular layout in mind for, it can be fun to use a randomizer to determine where special or thematic elements reside - where the head cultist is, where the field of fungus monsters are (fungus doesn't walk around, now does it?), where the night-hags have set to roost. Doing so creates dynamics that don't arise when placing them manually: if two different factions are uncomfortably close to each other, the question then rises "why are they so close?" and "how does this proximity influence their behaviors?" Additionally, it leaves room for surprises - mentioned above. It is then an avenue to guard against accidentally formulaic layout choices and insurance that surprises remain an exception to the norm, preserving their designed capacity to keep the party on their toes.

The Map

Drawing the Map

There are dozens of posts on how to generate a dungeon - there are articles and sections in rule books as well - and there are also random generators, some linked in the introduction of this post that are based on those articles and sections. They are great resources - and I would be tempted to use them.

That said, I tend to draw my own maps - as it's something I enjoy doing: and the key to enjoying it, the key to producing maps that will challenge and reward the mapper - is to ensure that you, the author of the map, are likewise inspired. If you enjoy what you do while you're doing it, you're more likely to produce an inspired product: one which the player will enjoy unwrapping.

To start, grab an image, or an idea, or other visualization that strikes you. A bird might work - or a geographic pattern. Imagine what it would look like pixelated, and draw that out - these are your initial halls and rooms. From there, think of some shapes you haven't used yet - as you draw, see if there are some shapes you like that you want to repeat: draw them. Incorporate them. Don't be afraid to take up a lot of horizontal space - too much on a page can create clutter: and some white space can lend itself towards a more esthetic layout. Alternatively, you could draw a maze - if that's what you're vision says - in which case, the guidance still applies: recall, most parties are going to be between 8 and 12 bodies: not necessarily 8 to 12 players, but four to six players each with a hireling, henchman, and torch-bearer or two. If the goal is to create cramped conditions and a feeling of claustrophobia, a ten foot hallway twenty feet long, though seeming a big space on graph paper, is plenty small enough for an adventuring party to get cramped cramming into. On a battle grid or VTT, after all, 10 by 20 feet is the bare minimum to accommodate our aforementioned minimum party of eight tokens! So - you can make it cramped if you want: but recall, don't be afraid to make it sprawl. It is always more cramped in play than it feels on paper (or in pixels, if you're drawing it virtually).

Then, make some alternate ins, alternate outs, from various sections - looping, as some folks call it, or jaquaying - leaving some places as dead ends if it makes sense for them to be dead ends, but creating circuits elsewhere: provide re-usability for the map - make the players want to explore more than once to see the ins and outs, or give the players (or monsters!) a way to move around more quickly, or to out-maneuver a pursuing adversary (or adversary under pursuit!).

Lastly, figure out your secrets. Which dead ends - or which thoroughfares - should be hidden, based on what you envision being in there? How would a character in that area engage with the terrain in order to find it or to enter? Are there too few secrets? Consider blank spaces on the map - if other places don't have a blank there, consider adding a secret room: a good mapper will notice if a map feels uneven and the party will often times double back and give it another go in the event that the mapper says, "Something should be here."

For you, the author, a map is freedom. The map is the point where there really isn't a good substitute for experience: and it's an avenue for artistry for folks (like me) who can't really do real art. Have fun when you draw - and if you aren't having fun, use a generator for this step, instead. Anything to get your map and your dungeon closer to actually being played: at the end of the day, isn't that the point?

Stocking

Having identified your stocking tables, as sub-sections by faction or area or as a whole, next, label your rooms using the naming convention of your choice and start rolling! This is a fairly simple process - as such, existing resources (B and X come to mind as my go-tos) having a good grasp on the process, I won't wax poetic too much: but will instead focus on process.

Rooms have three major elements:

• Treasure: the valuable elements that the player characters will want to take with them.
• Trim: the furnishings of the room - including traps, thematic elements, dynamic components to the room, or even mundane furnishings.
• Occupants: the monstrous (or not so monstrous) living entities in the room with whom the player characters can interact.

... each of which is represented by a roll on the stocking tables provided by the system. An initiate will be tempted to go down the list, room by room, and generate the required elements: rolling D6/6 to see if I have a monster, a trap, a special, or empty, and then to see if that monster room, trap room, special room, or empty room has treasure in it - upon finding a monster, rolling for said monster; upon finding treasure, rolling for said treasure - noting it down, writing some flavor text, and moving to the next room. This method is time consuming and will drain you, bouncing back and forth between different tables in entirely different sections of the book. Instead, to minimize the page-flipping overhead and minimize GM preparation strain, I stock as follows:

1. In a separate "key" file - enter a line each for each room to stock, by room key. This list will allow you to iterate a specific series of action for each one.
2. First pass, roll D6/6 determining room contents as a flag - so, does this room have treasure? True/False; does this room have a monster? True/False; and so on.
3. Second pass, for each room with a monster, roll accordingly for occupants, based on the stocking table; note their treasure type, but do not roll it.
4. Third pass, open the book to the unguarded treasure table. For each room that contains treasure but does not have a treasure type - note, to my personal taste, I will treat a monster with treasure type Nil as unguarded treasure for this purpose - roll unguarded treasure, as appropriate, for each. Note its net value.
5. Fourth pass, open the book to the treasure type tables. For each room that has a treasure type, roll treasure accordingly. In this stage, it might stand to character to then do another round for magic items, gems, etc. - which you can, but I don't: gems and magic items are infrequent enough that I find flipping the page to them doesn't slow me down enough to warrant a dedicated pass. Note, again, the treasure's net value.
6. Finally, sit back - look at your key, look at where the rooms are and their contents in relation to each other - and come up with short descriptions, evocative - preferably, to explain what's going on in those rooms - think of a one line reason why there is a trap here, or what are those skeletons guarding. In so doing, this will help to come up with elements for the ever-mercurial Special room result - but also it will produce a dynamic between elements, between monsters, within the dungeon - perhaps through randomization, producing a faction that you hadn't planned for.

Likewise, if coins are getting boring, I will routinely change out treasure items. Rolled 300 silver pieces? Why not find three canopic jars, 100 coins weight each, that are worth 10 gold pieces each? This can help to reinforce your theme - to run with the canopic jars example, it would be a much better fit for those jars to appear when breaking into the embalmer's room in the tomb of an ancient mummy than it would be to find a stack of coins lying around. Similarly, it would be much more thematic to find a 100 gold piece torc when rummaging through a cairn to a pictish hero than it would be to find 100 gold pieces. Sometimes, you'll want to take liberties with the weights - assuming you run encumbrance rules - but all in all, it's not hard to make up the difference elsewhere: or, knowing that there will usually be more treasure in a larger floor than the party is going to haul out anyway, it's also not hard to not worry too much about it. Picking the right treasure to haul is part of player skill, managing inventory management and encumbrance.

Treasure vs Hazard Audit

We've all heard - and many of us experienced - the problems associated with too-much treasure: the Monty Haul game, wherein player character wealth grows out of hand and compromises the game by its buying power in a medieval population that runs on a denomination of wealth an order of magnitude smaller than the amount of wealth extracted. We've also experienced, though, the overbearing response to the threat of wealthy players - that is, stingy GMs. To account for these potential outcomes, I tend to keep a treasure audit versus the hazards that I've generated.

Each time I note the value of the treasure to be found in a room, I keep a running sum - potentially just putting it, one line at a time, in an Excel column. For me, and I don't know if it's just that I roll cursed dice to generate treasure - but I'm far more likely to randomly generate a small treasure than a big one. For that reason, I try to add treasure - potentially in places it would make sense for it to be - to bring the audit up a bit. I don't have a number in mind when I do this, in terms of "how much treasure is this versus how much would a party of the same level as the dungeon or dungeon level being mapped is intended to be need to level" - but instead eyeball it: would I, knowing the hazards therein, risk myself against those hazards with the promise of the treasure at hand? If I wouldn't, then I add some more - knowing that the party likely isn't going to find or extract all of it, that may change the number.

Are the players going to know beforehand what the hazard level is or what the potential reward may be? Of course not. That's part of the fun of playing. However, I as the referee, I want them to feel rewarded. I want them to be able to weigh their options fairly - some maps will have more treasure, some maps will have less: and sometimes one will appear the other based on how the players interact with it during the session - what they find, what they encounter, how they roll, ... - so, when stocking for treasure, behind the scenes, I tend to try to maintain that balance.

Them's My Two Coppers

Now get out there and build, dungeon makers!

Public domain art respectfully pilfered from OldBookIllustrations.com, ReusableArt.com, Wikimedia Commons, and the National Gallery of Art in June and August of 2020. Attribution in alt text.

Whirlpool Barrow

Scale: 10 ft.
Click here for a PDF version of this adventure!

A - Entry

The stairwell down curves along the south wall. The double doors to the east are stuck; to the west, locked.

Under the stairwell are barrels - mostly empty: some with decomposed foodstuffs. Under the barrels is concealed a trapdoor to G: the trapdoor is not locked.

Curving with the north wall from door to door is a crescent shaped surface - almost like a bar - which is flush with the wall at its extremes, but is 5 feet deep in the center. Along this are placed minor offerings - grains, spices, etc. - of little or no value: in the center is a statue of an obese figure with a dragon's head. The eyes, nostrils, and ears have hollow sockets, as though they once had gemstones in them.

B - Western Wing

The walls of the hallways in this wing are of stacked stone. In the nook directly west of the double door to A is another small altar - on it is an idol worth 400 gold pieces to a collector and 100 silver pieces in coin. If a character takes the idol, they will feel a rush of heat then nothing further.

There is a Gelatinous Cube (B35) roaming the hallways like a Roomba - there is a 45% chance it will be in the north wing, a 45% chance it will be in the south wing, and a 10% chance it will be wedged against the door to A.

The two doors to E are wrought iron - not locked. The two doors to D, neither have handles, knobs, or other visible means to open them. To enter, one must speak the passphrase: "his word is reliable, his command unchanged".

C - Hidden Crypt

Along the corridor, three Ogres (B40) guard what appears to be a gaping hole in the wall. In truth, it is a secret door that the Ogres have forced open rather than finding the precise mechanism.

Inside the room, two more ogres are rummaging through four burial shrines set into four pyramid-shaped enclaves. There are jars with teeth, some ragged cloth, and smooth river rocks: nothing of value. On the north wall of the room is written "his word is reliable"; on the south wall is written "his command unchanged".

D - The Oracle Well

In this room is a well of circular shape, 10 feet in diameter, concentric to the room. The well is seeming of infinite depth - with a swirling tempest of mystic energy, rife with frequent lightning inside. Above it is a glass dome, held aloft by five statues - each five feet tall - in their mouths are spessartite garnets: each worth 100 gold pieces, and on each of their left hands is a silver ring: each worth 10 gold pieces.

If a ring is touched while the magic of the well is active, the character touching the ring takes 2d6 lightning damage: they may Save vs Spells for half. If a garnet is touched while the magic of the well is active, the character must Save vs Death or be immediately turned to ash. The garnets power the well - if one or more is removed or destroyed, the energies dissipate. The silver rings stabilize the well - for each ring removed while the well is active, there is a 1-in-6 chance per garnet that the garnet in question will shatter.

The well, while active, can be used to cast the spell Commune as a ritual: a semi-spectral avatar of the deity Communed with appearing to hover under the glass dome. If the well is used for this purpose, the number of questions able to be asked is 5. It could theoretically be used to travel to the plane of existence on which the target deity resides - however this is left to the discretion of the GM.

The well, inactive, is circle of stone depressed into the floor. It is 1 foot deep.

E - Reliquary

This narrow hallway's walls are solid, smooth rock. Along the east wall, three alcoves are separated from the hall by iron bars set into the stone.

• Ei - a skeleton wearing a faded vestment and carrying a thick tome. In the tome is a catechism for a forgotten religion.
• Eii - a skeleton wearing archaic plate armor and carrying a shield with embossed heraldry - but the paint having decayed and flaked with time, it is difficult to tell which.
• Eiii - a dust and cobweb covered table with a heavy iron chest. The chest is open, inside it, crumbling papers.

Two Mediums and a Master (B39) are in the space, studying the bars of Ei. One medium has memorized Magic Missile; one medium has memorized Detect Magic; the master has memorized Detect Magic, Read Languages, and Light. The master carries a scroll of Charm Person.

F - West Pool

The doors to this room are neither locked nor stuck. In the center of the room, a five foot diameter whirlpool of magical energy, extending in a slow-rotating vortex from the floor, roughly 18 inches in height.

Floating in the whirlpool like satellites are 80 gold pieces. If a player enters the vortex, they will feel moderately buoyed, but it tries to expel them, as opposing ends on a relatively weak magnet might do.

G - Cloistered Hall

The doors to the halls in this room are all unlocked. There is, however, a pressure plate in the north side of the hall - at the splitting junction. Unless a weight of human-sized heft or heavier is placed on the plate, which will visibly depress it, any character attempting to open the door to room H will release a swarm of hornets (Insect Swarm, B37).

H - Central Pool

The doors of this room are neither locked nor stuck. In the center of the room, a five foot diameter whirlpool of magical energy, contained by a series of copper rods at its perimeter. It appears to sink into the floor.

If a copper rod is displaced, the character displacing it takes 2d6 points of lightning damage - they may Save vs Spells for half. For each rod displaced, the link is broken and the vortex has an X-in-8 chance of dissipating, where X is the number of rods removed.

If a character jumps into the vortex, it will transport them - one way - to F, K, or P. A successful Save vs Spells will allow the jumper to choose: on failure, it is randomized.

I - Eastern Wing

The walls of this section of hallway are stacked stone. In the west-facing pointed section is a small shrine, on which is burning half a stick of incense - the pleasant scent of which permeates the west hallway. Above the shrine is a candelabra - sold to a jeweler, the candelabra is worth 50 gp.

The incense, however, is a trap. A character who approaches the shrine, having smelled the smell, must Save vs Poison or fall into reverie for 1-4 turns. A character in reverie moves at half speed when exploring; must, when rolling a Thief skill or casting a spell, succeed a Save vs Spells or lose focus; and - when rolling for surprise, must roll twice: succeeding both rolls in order not to be surprised.

J - Broken Pool

The doors to this room are neither locked nor stuck. In the center of the room, a five foot diameter whirlpool of magical energy, extending in a slow-rotating vortex from the floor, roughly 18 inches in height. It is slightly askew, such that the top of the vortex is leaning slightly south. Inside the room, two Living Statues, Crystal (B37) face outward as though guarding the whirlpool. If a character interacts with the whirlpool, they will feel repelled by it.

K - Eastern Pool

The doors to this room are stuck. In the center of the room, a five foot diameter whirlpool of magical energy, extending in a slow-rotating vortex from the floor, roughly 18 inches in height. Inside the room, two Living Statues, Crystal (B37) face outward as though guarding the whirlpool. In this room, the Living Statues each wear an amulet - adorned by large central spessartite garnets. The amulets are worth 800 gold pieces each. If a character interacts with the whirlpool, they will feel repelled by it.

L - Lecture Hall The double doors to this room are damaged; one is closed, but unlocked - the other is slightly ajar. Inside, two White Apes (B30) have made a nest. Wrecked wooden furniture is smashed against the walls; on the east-side of the room is a raised area, 1 foot above the floor, stone. Strewn on the ground to the southern side of this raised area is a glittering mass of coins - 200 silver and 300 gold pieces. In the center of the room, local flora appears to have been hauled in and piled up from outdoors.

M - Shrine of the Tapestry

The door into this space is opened by two touch-plates on the walls to the left and right of it - too far apart for one man to press. When the touch-plates are released, the door closes. Inside, there is a pressure plate on which one man can stand to open the door: it remains open for 1-4 rounds after the pressure plate has been released: a character caught in the door while it is closing becomes pinned and takes 1-6 damage.

A thick carpet runs from the pressure plate to the west wall, against which are two floor lamps - five feet tall, each - with a candle in each. On the wall is a tapestry: a circle of 50 stars around a masculine figure - braided beard - with four wings pointing at the corners of the square piece.

N - Shrine of the Firmament

The door into this space is opened by a touch plate above the door and a pressure plate at the base of the door. When the plates are released, the door closes. Inside, there is a lever which opens the door - preventing it from closing again for 1-4 rounds. A character caught in the door while it is closing becomes pinned and takes 1-6 damage.

Inside, there is an odd warmth and glow that emerges from the walls, along the upper half of each - extending across the ceiling - is a diagram of the firmament, the constellations lining up as they do in springtime, however the stars not quite in the right alignment.

A character spending at least 2 turns in this room will glow upon leaving. For 1-4 days, they must consume double the normal amount of rations to avoid hunger, but for half of that time, their weapons count as magical for the purposes of striking resistant creatures and they benefit from a +1 bonus to all saving throws.

O - Contemplation Hall The door to the west is unlocked; the door to the east is locked. Four Thoul (B43) wearing leather uniforms occupy the space - meditating. The ceiling has been painted a deep blue color; the walls, thunderhead gray.

P - Dome to the Heavens The room is half an egg - the floor level, but the walls melded into the ceiling, domed along the oval of its perimeter. The ceiling is 15 feet high in the center. On the floor, a large carpet made from an odd slick material - feeling of glass to the touch, but with the tough consistency of thick fabric. On the ceiling is painted a star pattern outlining a galaxy - in the center, a large diamond is embedded. The diamond, if removed, is worth 1,200 gold pieces.

Q - Penitent Hall

Along this hallway are four doors in the east wall, each locked, but each with a barred window in the top, as though a prison cell. They are populated as follows:

• Qi - 1 live Thoul (B43), naked, and a pile of straw.
• Qii - A heavy iron chest; illusionary. The chest is only visible through the window in the door; if the door is opened, characters entering the room will not see it.
• Qiii - The frame for two bunk beds and a single stool. A tin bowl on the floor.
• Qiv - Empty except for a tin water bowl, illusionary. Once the door is opened, a character inside will see a frame for a bed and a heavy iron chest - locked. Inside the chest is 800 silver pieces, 400 gold pieces, and a Ring of Protection from Undead. Works as the spell, but may be used only once per day: recharging at sunrise.

If any of the doors to the above rooms are opened, the doors exiting the hall, Room Q, disappear - having been replaced by illusionary stone wall indistinguishable from the actual walls.

The Dabrutu: Hog Men of Caan

In the waxing light, a thin stream of smoke from a cooking fire snakes about the broad-head leaves - the omen of a fast broken and a day's genesis. Two armored figures, grinding whetstones against blades; three more - oiling leathers; over the fire, a half-man reheats a purloined clutch of eggs alongside salted pork fit for travel. The leaves rustle - ferns swaying against the breeze - armored eyes snap to attention as squealed whispers pierce the quiet. 

Caught! 

A rain of darts whip through punch-holes in the brush - black stains creeping up from the wound as the leaf edges curl as if pained. An armored figure falls - another, the chef - choking as corruption pulses in to the rhythm of their own heartbeats from half a dozen tears the size of sewing needles. Two, four, eight stunted beast men: faces of a boar, the hooves of a swine - four prehensile fingers to a hand, and a snarling gait - vomit out, spears in hand. Three, five, seven - thin skins pierce easily for the adventuring elite: but then come bigger boars - six feet tall, barrel chested - following the swinelings: cruel khopesh hacking, tusks goring, fingers throttling. Three, two - more explorers fall, the smaller and larger of these warriors of the weald laughing as blood fountains spurt and gush before trickling and running dry - last of all, the boar-mother: a man and a half tall, as thick as the trees around her - her matted fur braided with bones and charms - striding across the campsite, looking at the fire, the purloined eggs - now quite burned - the salted pork - overturned, cooling at rest in the dust of the forest floor. A word is spoken. The flame goes out.

These are the Dabrutu - the brutal Hog-Men of Caan.

Bearing Cruel Weapons, Without Fear of the Fight

The Dabrutu - or the Hog Men - are a twisted melding of man and wild boar: hungry, always, and prone to vengeance - choosing to take what they desire over building it with their own sweat. They have four grasping fingers on each hand and walk on bi-cloven hooves. Their bodies have thick, matted fur - thicker with age and size - which serves as a natural armor for them: and their protruding, porcine jaws house sharp tusks which can be used to gore an enemy or one another. A Hog Man's fur can range in color from a deep brown to a midnight black and is frequently blotchy, with irregular patterns emerging in its hue and tone - especially about the torso and head.

The Caanish know the Dabrutu as a menace - the presence of even nuisance Squealers implies the presence of a larger force: perhaps even a dreaded Boar Mother - the passel matriarch bearing powers and blessings of Chaos. They are known to kidnap or capture humans to slaughter as food or to retain as sporting pets - sometimes gambling on combat games between striking prisoners.

Encountering the Hog Men

All Dabrutu, when Saving against Disease or Poison, do so rolling twice and picking the higher of the two results. Dabrutu do not have infravision - but can hear acutely and fight by scent effectively at a radius of 15 feet in darkness.

Dabrutu, Squealer
Armor Class:	7	No. Appearing:	3-12 (special)
Hit Dice:	1	Save As:	Normal Man
Move:	120' (40')	Morale:	6
Attacks:	1 weapon or 1 gore	Treasure Type:	Q (~)
Damage:	By weapon or 1-3	Alignment:	Chaotic
Frequency:	Common	Chance In Lair:	10%

Squealers are range between two and a half feet and four feet in height and from 25 to 75 pounds in weight. Their fur is somewhat sparse, with the larger specimens being more hairy. They are sadistic and merciless, frequently finding humor in suffering: including the suffering of their own. They tend to act rashly and impulsively and are not particularly brave - so, where they may not find the loss of a comrade to be particularly demoralizing, they will frequently retreat intentionally if they find that the situation does not suit their advantage. They lack, however, the foresight and attention span to re-ambush: thus, if Squealers retreat, it can frequently be assumed they no longer pose an active threat.

1d6	Dabrutu Favored Poison
1	Blindness - the poison attacks the eyes: dimming and darkening. The victim is blinded for the next 1-4 hours and, for 1-4 hours further, the victim's chance of being surprised is increased by 1 in 6.
2	Hallucinations - a paste of mushrooms and oil has been applied. The victim must make a morale check each turn or either flee, cower, or perceive a random target as an adversary - at GM discretion.
3	Muscular Dysfunction - the toxin attacks the nerves, causing muscles to lock up locally and then more broadly. The victim must Save vs Paralysis - for the next 1-4 hours, on a failure, the character is paralyzed; on a success, the character suffers a -1 to attack rolls and a -15' (-5') penalty to their movement rate.
4	Nausea - an old poison or a lazy poisoner has produced a non-fatal, but still sickening, agent. For the next 1-4 hours, the victim rolls all 1d20 rolls twice, taking the lower roll. Additionally, if a spellcaster, the victim suffers a 25% spell failure rate.
5	Sepsis - the point has been swabbed in filth. The victim will require a successful save each day in order to heal any HP.
6	Sleep - the concoction is laced with powerful barbiturates. The victim will fall into a deep sleep for 1-4 hours, but can be awakened forcibly after 1-4 minutes.

Favored weapons include spears - the reach making up for a Squealer's short stature - other small-sized polearms, and blow-guns.


Squealers frequently smear fetid or toxic substances on the darts and points of their weapons - requiring a Save vs Poison or producing a noxious effect. A list of common poisons favored by the Dabrutu is provided - while it is possible multiple individuals will be using different poison types, it is more common that a single poison type will be used by the net encounter at a time, as Dabrutu poisons frequently have a short shelf life and will have been brewed very recently from whatever the Squealers found on hand.

Special: Squealers do not have lairs of their own: they always live in the company of Boar Mothers. Thus, they are not encountered in the wilderness alone unless the party is within a mile of a Boar Mother's den - in which case, Warriors will likely be patrolling the area as well.

Dabrutu, Warrior
Armor Class:	5	No. Appearing:	2-8 (5-20)
Hit Dice:	2+1	Save As:	Fighter 2
Move:	90' (30')	Morale:	8
Attacks:	1 weapon or 1 gore	Treasure Type:	S (B)
Damage:	By weapon or 1-4, both +1	Alignment:	Chaotic
Frequency:	Common	Chance In Lair:	20%

Dabrutu Warriors have a hunch at the upper extent of their back, causing their head to jut forward when in a comfortable gait and producing an apparent height of just shorter than an average human - somewhere in the vicinity of 5 and a half feet. When looking up, or intentionally standing erect, many if not most easily crest two yards. They share the harshness of their kindred Squealers, but not their fickleness, and are known to engage in group tactics. They prefer - and will seek - advantageous circumstances, such as surprise or encircling of an adversary: if a party is surprised by Dabrutu Warriors, it is almost a guarantee that they will have surrounded them or have taken steps to block off an easy exit path, such as with tripwires or rockfalls.

For every 6 Dabrutu Warriors in a group, there is a 50% chance of 1-4 Squealers accompanying them. For every 12 Dabrutu Warriors in a group, there is a 30% chance of a single Boar Mother in tow.

Preferred weapons include heavy hacking weapons - such as axes or bladed polearms. They are not averse to poison - but they tend not to outside of clearly one-sided engagements, as a Warrior has grown to depend on its strength and tactics over the cheap cunning of the weaker Squealers.

Dabrutu, Boar Mother
Armor Class:	4	No. Appearing:	1* (1-6)
Hit Dice:	6	Save As:	Thief 5
Move:	90' (30')	Morale:	10
Attacks:	1 weapon or 1 gore	Treasure Type:	V (B)
Damage:	By weapon or 1-8, both +1	Alignment:	Chaotic
Frequency:	Rare	Chance In Lair:	60%

Boar Mothers - as their name implies - are sows who have grown to immense size. Even with the characteristic hunch of the Dabrutu, a Boar Mother stands easily 8 feet in height and bears large, snarling tusks beyond their beady eyes. Their fur is longer and courser than that of other Dabrutu - it tends to be braided, different each day, with the skulls of smaller animals - some sentient, some not - woven into it, producing a muted rattle as they knock together inside curtains of hair. Routinely, likewise, Boar Mothers dress the part - wearing vestments or stoles with scrawled runes on them legible only to the lords of Chaos, stained dark with dirt and blood.

Spellcasting: Boar Mothers are blessed by the Akhkhazu - Chaotic spirits in service to a dark god, Dimmekur - and can cast spells as a Vicar (Cleric of 4th level). Frequently used spells include Blight, Cause Light Wounds, Cause Fear, Darkness, and Hold Person.

* Special: Boar Mothers never appear alone. If a lone Boar Mother is rolled, it will be accompanied by a bodyguard of Warriors: 2-8 in the dungeon, 5-20 in the wilderness. Similarly, based on the number of Warriors, so also may Squealers appear in tow.

Spoiler Alert!

The Deeper Lore section contains some notes to help a GM (me) to run the Hog Men in a way consistent with the archetype they are supposed to fill and some of the inspirations behind their creation. If you play in (or want to play in!) a game GM'ed by me, beyond this point will ruin some of the mystery for you for both Dabrutu and for most of the sentient races: having some impact in the game world that isn't immediately available outside of player character discoveries.

Deeper Lore

There is little difference between male and female Dabrutu, physically. Not all females will grow into Boar Mothers, though in a Dabrutu passel, only a Boar Mother is permitted to reproduce - thus, any female Warrior is assumed to be a gilt. Dabrutu produce litters smaller than true hogs - around six at a time - which are weaned no later than four months later. Some Warrior females will grow pregnant mistakenly: where feasible, these Warriors are occasionally known to sneak their own offspring into the litter (or litters) of resident Boar Mothers: who don't care about their children enough to scrutinize them. Young who are nursed in this manner typically survive - young who are not are typically slaughtered: and if the Warrior mother is found out, she will find herself on the receiving end of a challenge from the resident Boar Mother as a competitor.

From time to time, a female will instead be elevated to Boar Mother - a transition that requires either the intervention of the Akhkhazu or for the female to receive the energies passed to a preexisting Boar Mother upon her death. This occurs voluntarily on occasion - a female Warrior having been groomed by a coven of Boar Mothers to replace one who nears the end of her natural life span - far less common is the Boar Mother being replaced willing to give up her blessing, regardless of whether she takes it to her grave. The Dabrutu - especially the Warrior caste - are typically not aware of the Akhkhazu: religion is the domain of the Boar Mothers.

An unknown element regarding the Squealers - they are not a subspecies, as many might believe: instead, Squealers - as might be evidenced by their varied size - are the shoats of Boar Mother litters - children, so to speak, for the Dabrutu people. A Dabrutu matures quickly - reaching adulthood (Warrior stage) around 9 years of age. Squealers are between the ages of 5 months and 6 or 7 years, typically. In childhood, Squealers are adventurous and keen to strike out on their own, with little regard to social standing; in puberty, however, Squealers begin to be conscious of their passel's hierarchy

The natural life span - that is, an "in captivity" Dabrutu, so to speak - can be 35 or 40 years.
The life span of a Boar Mother can stretch beyond a century - as long as 120 years.

On a more meta-note, more than one person with whom I've played, world-building, has had the idea to tie mortal races to the cosmology: specifically, in an old-school context, recalling that the game was heavily influenced by Christian mythos early on, tying the mortal races to the Seven Virtues and Seven Vices (or Seven Deadly Sins). Being the totally unique and snowflake-special innovative type that I am, I boarded that train, too - taking it one step further by tying the Seven Vices to the four Peccata Clamantia - which, in game terms, I translate to Violence, Excess, Oppression, and Defrauding. To that end, the Hog Men, or Dabrutu, are a representation of the Sin of Wrath, bound and intertwined with the Peccata Clamantia, Violence. By association, the Akhkhazu - stolen from Akkadic tradition - are a representation of Violence: being both vengeful and avaricious. The name Dabrutu was taken from Babylonian traditions - Umū Dabrūtu - actual depictions of which were lost (went with boar-people, to reference early TSR Orc art and to attest to the chimeric penchant for Mesopotamian mythological beings), but which were described as being wrathful and keen with weapons - prior to being subdued and bound to benevolent service by Marduk.

The Dabrutu - as well as other Vice Races - are not, themselves, a natural thing. Instead, in an age before, the powers of Chaos, raging against the powers of Law, stole humans, who are the middle ground: unique in their spiritual duality - and planted in them a Chaos Seed. The Chaos Seed entrusted to Dimmekur was planted by Akhkhazu covens: resulting in two creatures reflected by the two ways in which their nature - their affiliation to Violence - manifests: one, an embodiment of Envy (another race, the Mushussu); the other, an embodiment of Wrath - the Dabrutu: a people built for combat, built for survival, and built for anger. The secret of the Dabrutu - like all of the Vice Races - they are capable of breeding, and do breed: the Chaos Seed spreading and growing in the hearts of the offspring akin to Original Sin - however, it is not the only way that these creatures are created. By the nature of their society, the Dabrutu keep themselves largely in check - no species foundationally vested in malice can be sustained: when large groups, hordes, or wars are waged by the Dabrutu, almost always, it is the work of the Akhkhazu - who have bred more Dabrutu through the ritual to plant the Chaos Seed in the hearts of a population.

A powerful Cleric can remove the Chaos Seed - restoring, redeeming a Dabrutu - but this secret is not known to the Caanish priesthood.

None who live know how a redeemed might react to such an act.


Public domain artwork lovingly pilfered from OldBookIllustrations.com on or about 8/11/2020. Attributions in alt text.

08.02 - Progress Point: Watchtower Compound Grounds

Scale: 10 ft.
PDF version forthcoming.

During the initial settlement of the Indigo River area, the settlers' compound rose up with surprising rapidity - credited at the time to instances of good fortune, in secret and in part this fortune was brought on by the eldritch intervention of a Chaotic patron. One of the settlers, a meek adviser to the elected leader, had secured the patronage of this entity with intent to pursue greater power stealing the Slaad magic rumored to ride the winds of change deep in the Bullywug Wild. His plan was thwarted, however, when he was betrayed - the Chaos entity claiming the souls it was promised prematurely under what appeared to be a seasonal storm - along with the corporeal shells for many therein, when a celestial alignment strengthened its connection to the material enough to take advantage of some unfortunate wording in their bond.

Since that day, the watchtower compound has been in decay - the surrounding countryside and farmsteads abandoned, sunken into the marsh - with only a strange hint of foreign miasma to hint at what underground powers forestall the collapse of the larger buildings at the compound, themselves.

The Watchtower Compound

Wandering Monsters

During the day, the compound is eerily silent. An odd disquiet permeates the atmosphere - radiating from the earth like heat haze on the horizon. As such, there will be no wandering monsters within the compound during the day. At night, on the other hand, there is a 2-in-6 chance of an encounter every hour, rolled on the following D66 table:

d60	Encounter	d6	Detail
1	Angry Dead	1	Relentless Dead: 1-4 Coffer Corpses (FF 11)
		2	1 Poltergeist (FF 73)
		3	3-12 Skeletons (B 42)
		4	4-16 Manes (MM 17)
		5	2-8 Zombies (B 44)
		6	1-6 Lemure (MM 23)
2-3	Corruption of Nature	1	Needler Golem: 1 Needleman (FF 67)
		2	2-12 Infected Rodent: as Giant Rat (B 41), except that any character bitten thereby must Save vs Poison or the wound festers and will not heal without magic.
		3	Grasping Roots: Roots come up from the ground and grasp at any character within 10 feet of a provided center point. Characters must Save vs Paralysis or be grasped, suffering 1-3 points of damage per round until they can escape.
		4	Shifting Muck: a section of space, 10 feet in rough diameter, which moves at a speed 60' (20').
		5	Corrupted Mist: a drizzle starts to fall that reeks of Chaos, lasting 1d4 minutes. For each minute a character is exposed, they must Save vs Poison or be corrupted: suffering a -2 penalty on all saves until healed.
		6	1-6 Thoul (B 43)
4-5	Shade of the Past	1	A female human appears in a window and dumps a bucket of refuse onto the party as though she is unaware of their presence. Just before it is set to hit, she - and the falling effluvium - vanish.
		2	A series of dog barks can be heard in the distance, perhaps behind a building. Pack animals may be startled. No dog can be found.
		3	In a nearby window, a male human can be seen fastening a vest or shirt. He cannot hear the party if they attempt to interact - and when he finishes, he leaves the room in which he was spotted, disappearing as he crosses the threshold of the door.
		4	Children can be seen playing - swinging on a rope swing; digging in the mud; running past a gate, opening and closing it; etc. - but after a few rounds, or if the party interacts with them, they vanish. The articles with which they were playing remain - still moving from inertia; bone-cold to the touch.
		5	Free-roaming livestock - such as a goat or chickens - crosses the path of the party, wandering behind a post or building. If the party follows, the apparition has vanished.
		6	The wind picks up for a few rounds - blustering tumultuously - during which time all dilapidation of buildings and equipment in the compound appears to vanish: some doors open and close, some windows as well, with no one there to be operating them - and a strangely wrong cooking scent emanates from the kitchen. At the end of the few rounds, the wind dies - and with it, the compound returns to its previous state with no evidence to suggest the interruption.
6	Helpful Dead	1	A shade of the past appears, speaking asking about a randomly determined part of the compound. If they have not been there, it will describe that building to them - enough to make a rudimentary map, excluding secrets.
		2-3	A shade of the past appears from the nearest building. It will give a hint to the party regarding the location of one of the treasure elements in the building from which it is emerging - or a randomly determined building if the place it emerges from contains no treasure. This can be direct (for example, the ghost is agitated: indicating it has lost a ring, but it is sure it left it there...) or indirect (two specters, one indicating to the other that it has secured away its stash in a certain hiding place) - this is at the discretion of the GM.
		4-5	A shade of the past appears, speaking asking about a randomly determined part of the compound. If they have not been there, it will warn them - typically of a rumor it heard or a curiosity it has - regarding one of the traps or terrain hazards therein.
		6	A shade appears - perturbed - from the nearest building. It will communicate to the party about a monster or group of monsters in the building: typically in distress or surprise, as that isn't the way the shade remembers it.

Guard Shack

P1 - Guard Shack This 10x10 shack has windows with storm shudders on all sides; they are open - the ones on the south face having been torn off. The door is ajar. Inside the shack is a trapdoor leading to C15 partially covered by hay - decayed from time and wet. There are hooks on the walls designed to hold some form of absent tools. 2-8 Zombie Bullywugs repine in the space. Stats as Bullywug (FF 16), but mindless with undead traits, re: Zombie (B 44).

The Well-house

P2 - Well House The doors to this space are half-doors: that is, the opening is the height of a standard door frame, but the door, itself, is only as tall as the waist. Inside is a well. The well has an odd shimmer to it - as though it were full of water, when it is evident that the well is dry. At night, any character can detect it - during the day, only Elves or otherwise magically-attuned creatures can detect it. If a character climbs down the well, through the shimmer, during the night, their appearance is altered to resemble the garb, equipment, etc. of original colonists. There is no change to its function - only its form - and the illusion wears off at sunrise - peeling away as the rays of the sun run down it.

Kitchen

P3 - Kitchen A disused hearth collects moss on the east wall. Some cutlery, pans remain - rusted through in the salt air. The north door is locked; the south door is stuck, but has a break in it such that a character can see inside if they peek. Otherwise empty.

The Lumber-house

L1 - The Mill

On the south side, a whipsaw - aged, but still sharp - is suspended above a saw pit. On the north side, a pile of timber is slowly being reclaimed and rotted by nature.

The saw pit is unstable. A character moving close enough to inspect it has a chance to trigger a collapse - saving or falling into the pit. The fall is 1d6 damage; if a natural 1 is rolled, they catch themselves on the saw - dealing another 1d4 damage and causing Lockjaw.

Concealed in the timber pile is a lockbox containing 300 gold pieces.

L2 - Filing Room

On the east wall, a peg-board is half-full of rusted tooling. In the west side of the room, a workspace for a saw filer: including a curious bicycle-like contraption - pedals for spinning a whetstone, which is attached firmly on the north side to a wooden arm; loosely attached to a wooden arm on the south side - and in which is sitting a skeleton. If a character attempts to use the spinning whetstone, it will work, but throws up a yellow-orange dust: exposing anyone in the western part of the room - Save vs. Poison or start hacking blood: 1d3 damage every turn for 1d4 turns.

Doors to L3 and L4 are both stuck, swolen from humidity.

L3 - Sawmaster's Quarters

A work bench, bunk, and chest of drawers adorn this room. The bunk has fallen through - only the frame stands - and the chest of drawers has collapsed in on itself. At the work bench - someone is sanding a wooden article.

• If the party is investigating during the day, they will hear an exasperated groan if they enter the room: at the end of the groan, the sanding stops.
• If the party is investigating at night, they will see a semi-spectral human - a skeleton which is partly covered in "flesh" made from marsh silt and skin. It will express anger at being interrupted and attack, stats as Wood Golem (X 32), excepting it is not vulnerable to fire and it is over 5 feet in height: the size of a standard human.

The wooden article is undefineable - that is, it is either not complete enough or is being carved into a foreign enough element that the party will not recognize what it is. Rummaging through the bunk material that has fallen through will reveal a sack containing six silver figurines worth 10 gold pieces each.

L4 -  Storage

Several crates, a shovel, ruined axe heads, a leather apron, and a spare blade are stowed in this closet. In the front pouch of the leather apron is a purse containing 200 silver pieces and a mechanical pocket watch - still running. If removed from the compound, it will wind down as normal - requiring winding once every other day or so to keep proper time. If it is not removed, it will continue to run indefinitely. The watch is worth 200 gold pieces.

The Smithy

S1 - Smithy

Blacksmithing equipment is strewn about this space - water barrel, forge, tongs, hammers, etc. - with crates, some broken; others intact, on the western side. The forge is lit and a Tuatara (B 37) is basking by it. The lizard's eyes are glazed over - no pupils - and it will ignore the party if they leave it alone. It sits atop a weapons crate, however, which is emitting a glow.

Inside the crate is a magic sword: +3 versus undead or Chaotic extra-planar entities, but -1 against any living or natural foe. It glows, as the Light spell, if any undead are within 60 feet.

If the Tuatara is slain, the forge goes out - unceremoniously extinguished - and the lizard turns to ash. If the forge is extinguished prior to the Tuatara being slain, its pupils return and it must make a morale check.

S2 - Smith's Lodging

Two ruined cots and a rack for hanging adorn this room. The doors, on ingress, are not locked - but if the party enters, the doors both close behind them, locking themselves. There are windows on the north face, but the shutters are overgrown with vines, preventing them from opening.

The Barn

Level 1

1B1 - Entrance

All doors in this room are locked. In the center of the room is a hanging lighting fixture, damaged, casting a refracted glow across the room with no light source behind it. Any character entering the room must Save vs Spells or look up, entranced. This entrancement will last 1d4 hours - the character simply staring at the ceiling - unless interrupted. Damage suffered immediately breaks the trance; being physically removed from the presence of the glow reduces the remaining duration of the trance to 1d4 minutes.

The stairwell leads to 2B1.

1B2 - Record Room

A simple desk flanked by two crumbling open cabinets lined with ruined ledgers. The desk has a locked lockbox underneath it, bolted to the floor. Inside the lockbox is 200 gold pieces and well as 10 charms made of white gold - worth 5 gold pieces each.

1B3 - Storage

The door to this room is two-fold; opening on the top, bottom, or both at a time. Inside are decayed elements - including some agricultural equipment, but also sailing tack. Lying about the folderol are 3 Zombies (B 44) - one of which is under a toppled lateen sail. One zombie is wearing a signet ring, worth 500 gold pieces, and a pearl necklace (600 gold pieces).

Searching the room reveals a burlap sack with 200 silver pieces, a golden figurine worth 250 gold pieces, 5 flawless sapphires worth 50 gold pieces each, and a lockbox with poison needle trap that contains a decorative cigarette holder inlaid with precious stones and intricately carved (worth 1,200 gold pieces), and a similarly styled tobacco case, capacity roughly six cubic inches (worth 1,400 gold pieces).

1B4 - Main Barn

Molded hay is strewn about this open space. There is a double-door gate before an eight foot high entry, but it is only four feet in height and the north door is ajar. The stairwell leads to 2B8 - there is no banister.

During the day, the room is empty, except a dry-rotting saddle. At night, it is occupied by a single Nightmare (MM 74).

1B5 - Garage

A single-door gate, four feet high before an eight foot high entry, is stuck. A wagon - the wheels detached, one axle broken, sits in the north alcove of the room. In the east alcove, a broken work table and some rusted iron fastenings and spikes common to vehicle construction.

Stairwell leads to 2B9. There is a banister, but the upper part appears to have been broken off.

1B6 - Wreckage

This room is filled with broken furniture, some farm implements, and cobwebs. In the south-west corner - if the party looks - is a small clay statue with a silver pendant (valued 20 gold pieces) placed in front of it.

Level 2

2B1 - Common Room

Remains of what appears to be a sitting room. A small stove sits in the eastern alcove; the center of the space contains dusty and derelict spartan furniture. A Smoke Mephit (FF 64) occupies the space: appearing to live in the stove. Bound to the warlock who was betrayed, it was a go-between for said warlock and his patron. Caught off-guard by the sudden betrayal leading to the downfall of the colony, it was unable to accomplish an errand - placing an article by the wall of souls - as the mystic nature of the underground wards it from entry. It is weary of this entrapment in the material plane.

2B2 - North West Bunk

Two sets of bunk beds and a rust stain where a stove might once have been adorn this room. Against the east wall is a mirror and vanity. If a female character walks past the mirror and sees their reflection, they will see themselves wearing a set of emerald earrings - they can reach into the mirror and remove them, the earrings are worth 170 gold pieces, net. If the earrings are removed from the mirror, the mirror shatters.

2B3 - Broom Closet

A single skeleton (B 42) stands amid dry, unused cleaning supplies.

2B4 - South West Bunk

Two sets of bunk beds and a crushed stove adorn this space. Inside, at night, 6 Skeletons (B 42) "cook" something in an empty pan over the cold stove; during the day, the room is empty.

2B5 - South East Bunk

Three sets of bunk beds and a rusted stove adorn this space. There is a desk against the south wall, crumpled in on itself. In the north-east corner, there is an end table, on which is a broach - its central stone resembling a frog's eye.

The floor by the end table is not stable. A character coming within reaching distance of the frog's eye broach has a chance of collapsing the floor - falling into 1B1 and taking 1-6 damage. If the falling character is in Chainmail or heavier armor, or is laden with treasure, they will likewise break through the floor of 1B1 - taking a further 1-6 damage as they are pierced by floorboards.

If the frog's eye broach is removed from the watchtower compound, the central eye vanishes: but the broach is still worth in the vicinity of 100 gold pieces.

2B6 - North East Bunk

A single large bed frame with dusty linens occupies this space. A standing rack has several suits of clothing on it - all stylish in years past. Otherwise empty.

2B7 - Coat Room

Several coats of sizes varying from child to adult - worn and eaten by moths - are hung in this space. A single Shadow (B 41) hides in this space. Rummaging through the pockets of the coats renders 400 silver pieces.

2B8 - North Loft

The floors of this space creak loudly, the weight of long-decayed hay and straw against a pernicious damp having weakened the floorboards. In the space, a lone Violet Fungi (MM 42) grows amid 6 Shrieker (MM 87) fungus. Against the west wall is a locked chest containing 1,000 silver pieces, 500 gold pieces, two long outdated almanacs, and a book hand-written in a script and language none can read or understand.

2B9 - South Loft

On the east side, spare parts and farming equipment rust slowly. On the west side, barrels - dry, but with odd residue inside - accompany damaged crates containing inexplicably un-rotted grain. The grain, if removed from the compound, will turn to dust. Occupying the room are 6 Infected Rats, as Giant Rat (B 41), except that any character bitten thereby must Save vs Poison or the wound festers and will not heal without magic.

The Charter House

Level 1

1C1 - Foyer

From the outside, the front door is boarded up and storm shudders on windows are closed.

What once must have been a grand foyer - or, grand, at least, for a border colony - has been reduced to squalor: the rug being torn and moth-eaten, furniture wrecked, and the walls stained. Inside are 9 Manes (MM 17): the source of the destruction.

The stairwell leads to 2C1.

1C2 - Sitting Room

A small fireplace is embedded, unused, in the north wall. There are two chairs thrown on the floor and a sizeable dark patch on the ground where a carpet once was, the sun having bleached the wood around it.

1C3 - Keeper's Quarters

A simple bed, small fireplace, and two chests of drawers occupy this room. The door to it is locked and barred. On the far side of the door is a tripwire, which if activated, fires a crossbow - THAC0 18, 1-6 damage - from above the door frame in the south-west corner.

1C4 - North Quarters

This room is totally barren except for a sigil carved into the floor and a bucket of liquid mercury. If the mercury is pored into the sigil under either a new or full moon, it can be used to cast - as a ritual - the Commune spell. If poured during the day, it will sit in the grooves for 1d4 rounds, then uniformly and universally seep into the floorboards.

1C5 - Outer Quarters

This room is largely barren - with several limbs of broken furniture pieces littering the north wall. There appears to have been damage to the floor: as though something had broken through it into the room - but through the hole can only be seen the building's shallow crawlspace and dirt.

If visiting at night, a spectral garden grows from the hole: which the party can pluck without penalty. There will be 2d4 plants resembling squash in addition to sawgrass and spectral dogweed: if the ingested, a squash will have one of six different possible effects:

Roll Effect 1 Regain 1d6 hit points. 2 Increase the modifier of a randomly determined ability by +1. 3 Gain a +2 bonus to one randomly determined saving throw.

Roll Effect 4 Gain infravision, 30 feet. 5 Movement rate increases by +30' (+10'). 6 All attacks now count as magical for the purposes of damage reduction or special enemies.

The spectral produce disappears when the sun rises. Any non-hit-point related effects likewise fade with the dawn.

1C6 - Inner Quarters

This room contains a ruined bed, a fireplace in one wall, and a single Lemure (MM 23) repining and groaning therein.

Level 2

2C1 - Hallway

This cramped hallway is dimly lit - a window on the east wall being covered by an overgrown shutter. The top step of the stairwell from 1C1 unstable - if stepped on, there is a chance it will give way and cause the top five feet of the stairs to collapse. Characters on those stairs may fall, suffering 1-6 points of damage.

2C2 - North East Guestroom

In this room is a bed - very worn - a fireplace, and a wooden stool. Tied down to the bed and immobilized is a Coffer Corpse (FF 19). The Coffer Corpse has a leather strap around its neck which runs through a Ring of Weakness (B 49).

There is a satchel on the stool containing 2,000 copper pieces.

2C3 - North West Guestroom

A bed, the frame broken, a chest of drawers, the drawers missing, and a small fireplace, its base blanketed in ash, adorn this room. It is otherwise empty.

2C4 - Center Guestroom

A bed in this room has been propped against the door - sticking it. The storm shutters are closed. There is a small fireplace on the west wall, blocked by a chair stuffed into it. On the floor, there is evidence of scratching.

Near the window, one board is false. Lifting the board up reveals a hidden stash underneath, containing 900 silver pieces and six jade spheres, worth 10 gold pieces each.

2C5 - South West Guestroom

A bed, fireplace, and end table occupy this room. A Tuatara (B 37) is scrambling in the room - having gotten in through the window, but accidentally knocked the shutter shut and not knowing how to leave the room again.

2C6 - South East Guestroom

A small fireplace on the south wall, a worn, molded bed, and an end table occupy this room. There is a loose stone on the lower-left side of the fireplace: behind which is a hidden stash containing a jewelry box. Inside the jewelry box can be found five pieces:

A ring with a purple sapphire, flanked by small diamonds (1,300 gold pieces) A segmented gold bracelet with moonstones embedded in the center of each segment (1,100 gold pieces) A gold necklace with five gems: a spinel flanked by two rose quartz on each side (900 gold pieces)

A rosary made of pearl; the holy symbol, itself, white gold; and the line, thin silver chain. (900 gold pieces) A torque made of platinum, its ends a floral symbol of the kingdom to the north in gold (1,300 gold pieces)