Real estate is valuable at one’s place on the table. A solo player needs, within easy reach, maps, notebook, rulebook, setting guide, and adventure notes, in addition to dice and a place to set a drink. Small room remains for a character sheet, less for a whole party of them.
Years ago, I started with full-page character sheets but soon reduced to half size, before I realized the utility of the 3" × 5" card.
B/X Player Character Record Card, Front and Back.
Compared to the official B/X accessory (reproduced B14),1 the index card lacks saving throw and “to hit” vs. AC tables, notes, character sketch, and player’s name.
The D&D Reference Tables (from Dungeon Module B2, “perforated for easy removal”) replace the save and “to hit” tables. I keep notes in the adventure log, player’s name is omitted for solo games, and my drawing skill does nothing to improve the record’s aspect.
The index card is adaptable to other early D&D editions. For Endys the Uncanny, created when graph paper was not available to me, I use a character card in a Holmes D&D Basic game. Images below show the card of Palantir, an OD&D character.
OD&D Player Character Record Card, Front and Back.
The OD&D card includes space for the character’s class, “Elf Fighting Man,” rank, “Veteran,” and Fighting Capability, “HF/AF.” The reverse has room to note a Beneficiary, in this case, a nephew Fingolfain.
The field for damage can also be used to note the manner of the character’s passing. Palantir was killed by a ghoul in room 9 of some deep, dark place. Should Fingolfain seek the inheritance, he may find his uncle’s gnawed bones in an open tomb. We note, however, Palantir, in his short career, gained not a gold piece.
Palantir in Play Prior to His Demise in an OD&D Campaign.
Notes
1 These sheets for B/X were produced from 1980 through 1984.
D&D Player Character Record Sheets. Covers by Jim Roslof (TSR, 1980) and Clyde Caldwell (TSR, 1984).
“Magic-users — humans who elect to become magic-users must not wear armor and can carry only a dagger for protection” (Holmes, 6).
Reading Holmes on a Sunday morning—as one does—gave me an idea for a magic item.
Though we might say one carries a weapon “for protection,” it really doesn’t protect us so much as it should harm an aggressor. I thought, what if…?
New Magic Item
Dagger of Protection — as a dagger +1 in combat. It is paired with a steel sheath. Only while sheathed does the dagger protect the carrier, adding +1 to armor class and saving throws. Also called a “mageblade.”
It was a table perhaps some decades ago. Remaining now are crumbling bits of dry rot wood next to a single stool in similar condition. One plate, flatware, a goblet, and two candlesticks, all of tarnished silver, lay amid the friable refuse.
Bending, Hreidmar scooped up the goblet. “Now there’s a treas—”
The north door opened and a troop of skeletons filed in. The first held a covered plater high in one hand, a threadbare towel laid over the bones of the other arm.
Thorsdottir stepped forward and thrust the Ouroboros1 toward the advancing column—“Back!”
The silver platter dropped to the floor with a clang. The cover rolled aside. Heel bones scraped stone as the skeletons turned away, fleeing through the door…
Lower Levels of the Lonely Tower. The scene takes place in the central room (unnumbered), lowest level.
I’ve always counted Turn Undead as some kind of magic for the purpose of when, in the combat sequence (B24), a cleric should take the action. The B/X Rulebooks give no guidance on the matter (nor on a number of other details about Turning).
In my experience, Turning in the magic phase makes for some awkward moments:
Maneuvering and preparation for combat against half a dozen or so undead takes up time that will be for naught if the cleric’s Turning is successful.
Players, thinking about tactics in the movement phase, make a certain emotional investment in the combat, of which they are then deprived.
Missiles fired on the undead before they are Turned in the following phase is often anticlimactic.
During a recent Wyrmwyrd session, it occurred to me that Turning is only a quick gesture and maybe a couple spoken words. A cleric could easily do that while moving. If successful, the field is cleared—or at least thinned. If the Turning fails, the players can get into the combat with confidence their actions will be meaningful.
Rules Clarification: Turn Undead
A cleric attempts to Turn Undead in the movement phase of the combat sequence (step B, phase 2).
In the scene depicted above, neither side was surprised, and the player party won the initiative roll. Thorsdottir turned seven of nine skeletons.
“The basic campaign area… was originally drawn from some old Dutch maps.”
—Dave Arneson, First Fantasy Campaign, 11
Like many Blackmoor fans, I’ve often wondered about—and long sought—these “old Dutch maps.” It isn’t surprising that the naval wargamer would have on hand maps made by one of the great maritime powers of the Age of Sail. But would these Dutch maps depict the homeland or some distant discovery, like the Falklands or the Hudson Valley?1, 2
Yet, Blackmoor has in common with the Low Countries at least its soggy biome. In 2009, James Mishler of Adventures in Gaming took a 1520 map of Holland, flipped it over vertically, and rotated it 90 degrees to the left.3 He invites us to compare the results to the earliest then-known sketch map of Blackmoor, which is found in First Fantasy Campaign (12).
Mishler also notes that the image manipulation places any page footer text to the left of the map, that is, westward. Apocryphal or no, the legend goes that the Duchy of Ten, west of Lake Gloomy, is named after a “10” on the map. This, as Mishler postulates, might mean we should be looking for a map from a book that uses intaglio plates, the reverse side of which are blank.
Map of Holland, Flipped and Rotated, and Blackmoor Sketch, First Fantasy Campaign. Frankly, I can make the Blackmoor sketch look like just about anywhere if I squint just right.
To wrap up a multi-part review of First Fantasy Campaign, Bat in the Attic Rob Conley searched out an old Dutch map to dress up as a fantasy realm. But, he writes, “I couldn't quite figure out which old Dutch map to use or how it looked anything like Blackmoor.” Finally, Conley used Mishler’s method to create the map for his Blackmarsh old-school setting supplement.4
Rob Conley’s Blackmarsh.
Not satisfied with the results obtained from the Mishler method, I continued the search for “old Dutch maps.” As often happens during these rabbit-hole explorations, I learned lots of things—one of many reasons D&D is a superior game.
Having heard the legend of the little Dutch boy who plugged with his thumb a leaking dike, most of us are aware that the Netherlands has been sinking into the North Sea for centuries. Since the middle ages, the inhabitants have drained lakes to reclaim land, and an extensive engineering project called the Zuiderzee Works, in the 20th century, damned the central bay and created a number of polders.5
The practical upshot of all this is that not all old Dutch maps look the same. As man struggles against nature, land creeps above the waterline then slips below, year by year, as though subjected to the crests and troughs of a long-period tide.
Since Mishler’s go at matching Blackmoor to Holland, an earlier Blackmoor map surfaced. Most online references point to an article on Secrets of Blackmoor, which shows a colored version of what it calls the “Original Blackmoor Map.” The map is accompanied by a one-page document describing a “medieval project.”6 The document’s first enumeration reads as follows:
“See the enclosed map which represents the area known as the Northern Marches which guard the frontier of the great Empire of Geneva from the ever present threats presented by those who lurk beyond the light of our great empire and its great king.”
Document and Map Concerning the Northern Marches, Courtesy William Hoyt.
Stamps (not shown above), presumably placed by Secrets of Blackmoor, on both document and map credit the source as Twin City gamer and Arneson contemporary William Hoyt. The document’s text concludes with the initials “D.A.”
“Original Blackmoor Map” Compared to a Holland Map.
The U-shaped coastline matches up fairly well, the extreme west coast, though short, matches better, the Dutch location looks fearsome enough to accommodate the Egg of Coot, and a few Dutch roads share a similar angle as some Blackmoor waterways.
Still, though, I’m not convinced. The search continued until I saw the finger.
A salient feature of the earlier Blackmoor map, reproduced on the foldout map in First Fantasy Campaign, is a strip of land that extends from the Glendower peninsula, pointing northwest toward the Egg of Coot. I always thought Dave must be giving someone the finger—I don’t know who…
Map of the Republic of the Seven United Netherlands, Janssonius, 1658.
This 1658 Map of the Republic of the Seven United Netherlands7 (above) shows a similar land mass, perhaps a tidal flat (upper middle). Considering the fist behind, it is pointed the opposite direction. Applying the Mishler method, however, orients the finger to align with that of the earlier Blackmoor map. The fist becomes the Glendower peninsula.
Earlier Blackmoor Map Overlay on Janssonius 1658 Map.
To align the finger just right, I rotated the Blackmoor map 10.29 degrees. I note also that, on importing the Blackmoor map, I didn’t have to change the scale. Coincidence, perhaps.
Earlier Blackmoor Map Transparent Overlay on Janssonius 1658 Map, Cropped to Blackmoor Area.
The finger of land aligns well, but nothing else matches. Maybe the Blackmoor map is an amalgam of different takes on the same or several maps.
I am yet far from convinced. But a coincidence of geography seems unlikely. Arneson may well have traced features on the reverse of a “Plate 10.” Future searches for “old Dutch maps” might keep an eye out for those showing the Blackmoor finger.
Notes
1 A thread on the OD&D Discussion forum bounces around the idea that Arneson may have been inspired by the Minnesota coast of Lake Superior.
4Blackmarsh: A Setting Supplement Compatible with the Delving Deeper Rules and All Editions Based on the Original 1974 Roleplaying Game, Robert Conley, 2011. Available in print or PDF on DriveThruRPG.
5 Polders: My untrained eye spots some of these areas of reclaimed land on a satellite image.
6 In response to a question in the comments to the Secrets of Blackmoor article, Griff Morgan writes that several pairs of the map and document exist.
After helping to find a secret door below the entry landing, Hreidmar and company fell into the order of march behind Thorsdottir, Gandrefr, and Ardur.
Entry Level and Secret Room Under Landing.
Secret Room
A deep step down leads into this small room. The ceiling, below the landing above, is only six feet high. A door on the left (north) is closed.
Opposite the step (southeast) is a wide alcove, the back wall of which is tiled with lavender-tinted crystal. On a ledge stands a statuette, blackened by age. The figure is male, head turned toward an outstretched arm. The arm, as well as the statuette’s base, is truncated in a rounded mass, as if previously melted.
When Thorsdottir reached for the statuette, a bright flash of light from the crystal tiles left her blinded. Ardur and Hreidmar were also effected.
The other dwarves entered the room, letting the secret door close behind them. The four guarded the two entry points in pairs, while the party waited for their comrades’ sight to be restored.
Gandrefr examined the statuette, which she took from Thorsdottir’s hands. Scratching the black surface, she said, “The statue is of bronze. It’s damaged but should be worth something.” She stowed it in Thorsdottir’s pack.
Not having playing cards on hand to determine the effect’s duration, which was 1 to 8 turns, I used a deck of Chainmail spells I made last summer, Wizard Light as the ace. The party waited 40 minutes for sight to return.
At the table, the time passed quickly. I drew a card at the beginning of each turn and checked for wandering monsters at the end of every other. There was one: wolves.
I didn’t see how wolves could open either the secret or the normal door, which “usually open automatically for monsters” (B21). So…
The party waited, cramped in the small space, heads bent beneath the low ceiling. Then a scratching sound, as claws on wood, broke the silence. The dwarf guards braced their shields. The blind shrank back into the alcove.
Again the scratching, then “Awooo…” The canine howl came, not from an adjacent space, but from above.
Gandrefr let out a breath. “It isn’t here,” she whispered. “It’s at the entrance, just above.”
More scratching at the door before silence invested the space again.
“I can see,” said Thorsdottir, peering at shadows on the ceiling. She judged the distance from the secret door to the alcove. “This alcove must be directly below the arched door.”
Wandering Monsters. As a general rule in Wyrmwyrd, I use the Wandering Monsters tables (B53-54, X55-56) to generate random encounters.
Returning to the first floor, Ardur posted himself, spear in hand, on the entry landing with an ear to a door. Thorsdottir examined the central pillar and the stones underfoot, while Gandrefr searched the fresco wall. Both hoped to find a hidden entrance to the dungeon below mentioned in the parchment text. Neither found it before Ardur whispered a quick warning and readied the spear, facing the door.
When the doors burst open and a half dozen dwarves rushed through, Ardur held his ground. The dwarves formed a shield wall.*
One, peering over a shield, spoke: “If you be friend, say it true. If you be foe, prepare to cross the bridge!”1
Thorsdottir lowered her mace. “We are friends to civilized dwarfolk.”
“What do you here in Schlafender Drachenturm?”*
“We are on a quest.”
“And what is the object of your quest?”*
Thorsdottir hesitated. “Before I answer thrice, answer me once: What seek you here?”
“I like not to hint, for it cannot be shared.”†
Gandrefr stepped forward, empty palms raised. “Yet, it is clear,” she moved her hands while she spoke, “the sleeping dragon’s door has not been breached these many years. No coincidence would bring us together.” Her hands now traced a slow pattern in the air. “We might fight for a thing lost, or we might join our forces to find it. What say you?”
Behind the shield wall, there was much discussion and not a little grumbling. A moment later, the dwarf raised his head above the shield. “A kind offer it is you make, my friend, just and wise. Let it so be. I am Hreidmar. These are my kin of the Galti-Gler.”2
Monster Reactions in Role-Playing Encounters
When a monster’s action is not obvious, I rely on the Monster Reactions table (B24) to determine the flow of a role-playing encounter. In the encounter with Hreidmar and company, I knew the dwarves, like the player characters, were after the sword, but their attitude toward competition could go either way.
Rolling for reaction on entry and after Thorsdottir’s first two responses, I got three “Uncertain, monster confused” results in a row [marked with asterisks (*)]. With the dialog now established, I ignored any single result of 5 or less (attack possible or immediate), assuming “Uncertain,” while allowing two such results to indicate a bad turn in the discourse—an automatic “Hostile, possible attack.”
I did not roll for reaction to Thorsdottir’s inquiry about the dwarves’ goal [dagger (†)]. The polite question could not invoke a negative response but I didn’t imagine, either, that Hreidmar would give up the information to someone he didn’t trust.
At this point, Gandrefr interceded and threw a charm person spell on Hreidmar to banish doubt, barring a successful save, about his attitude. The dwarf leader might be in love.
Spurned by her lover, the wizard Agodt built the tower that now crouches below the crest of a high crag in the remote foothills of the Western Mountains. Other than the occasional apprentice, she lived alone.
Agodt named her home Schlafender Drachenturm—or Sleeping Dragon Tower—after the motif with which she adorned the structure. But even in the wizard’s day, folks called it “the Lonely Tower,” for Agodt pined after her lost love. Since her disappearance some decades ago, the tower has been undisturbed. Only time takes its toll on crumbling stones.
Before the summertime distraction that was the Valormr Campaign, I played the first session of Wyrmwyrd. Wyrm Dawn, the Battle of Throrgardr, and Valormr were invaluable in fleshing out the dungeon’s history and culture as well as the geography of surrounding lands. Though short campaigns, the three together took up the better part of the game-playing year.
The autumn passed in house-moving, “there and back again” to the beach-front apartment, where I’ll be through April at least. A nomad’s is a precarious lifestyle. I intend to get in at least one more session of Wyrmwyrd before the end of B/X’s 40th-anniversary year. In any case, the campaign continues.
Schlafender Drachenturm, the Lonely Tower
Player Characters
Thorsdottir serves as an acolyte of the Allfather Church in the Elding Wood village. Her friend Gandrefr is apprenticed to a sorcerer, who lives in a nearby hamlet.
Now, an adventurer has come to the Elding Wood village. Ansgar the Bold speaks of a powerful magic sword once possessed by the wizard of the Lonely Tower. Proof of the claim is a parchment he found among the belongings of Arkadin Hoarcloak, Agodt’s last apprentice, long-dead. Ansgar shows this parchment to anyone who expresses interest in joining his adventuring party. The calf skin is yellow with age, its edges burnt.
“I saw it only once,” reads the crooked scrawl, “before she was aware of my presence. The sword lay on the worktable before her. It was magnificent: a serpent coiled around the hilt, from bejeweled pommel to crossguard, and runes ran the length of the bronze blade. When Agodt noticed me, she covered the sword and bid me away.
“Later, in the dungeon below the tower, she built a secret vault. Among many wondrous treasures she stored there was a yew-wood case, narrow and long, bound in brass, a serpent engraved on the lid.
“Agodt closed the vault behind a solid stone-block wall. I dared to ask: How do you get in? She answered: The key is on the lintel. I searched the entire tower from upper works to dungeons below. I found no kind of key nor anything else on any lintel.
“It was soon after this that I was dismissed. Agodt gave no reason, and she never took another apprentice.”
Arkadin Hoarcloak Eversden Hamlet, Odenwoad
From the village and surrounding communities, a score of hopeful adventurers gathered at the Elf King’s Inn. The company discussed plans for the expedition. Ansgar hired a local guide to escort the party to the Lonely Tower. They would depart at dawn on the morrow.
Short festivities followed. The ambiance was jovial. Afterward, Ansgar retired to his room. When he didn’t come down in the morning, two of the company banged on the door before entering. They found Ansgar in a blood-soaked bed, his throat slit. The parchment was not found.
With the company now divided between those who would venture to the Lonely Tower as planned, those who doubted the parchment’s veracity, and those who would find the killer, the inn erupted in boisterous debate. Amid the cacophony, Gandrefr approached a quiet fellow who stood apart from the crowd, while Thorsdottir sought the guide. After brief negotiations, the four departed.
The guide escorted the party to the Lonely Tower then waited outside as agreed. Thorsdottir, Gandrefr, and the retainer Ardur explored the tower’s three upper levels. They discovered, above the entry door and on each floor, something of interest.
Entrance
Engraved in the arch over the entry door is the following inscription:
LOST ALONE TOGETHER FOUND
First Floor
A fresco covers the west wall, between the two stair bases, from floor to 20-foot ceiling. It depicts two robed figures, man and woman, he in blue, she in lavender. He carries a short blade. She holds a ball of light overhead. They walk through a wood. Ahead of them, a circle of stones. On the stones are carved eight-legged serpentine creatures. Above the circle’s center floats an object wreathed in a radiant aura.
Second Floor
A statue of a human female and a dragon coiled around. The paint is chipped and worn, showing alabaster beneath. The woman’s face is triangular, the nose thin. She wears a lavender robe, trimmed with white flowers. The dragon’s tail circles her waist, leaving arms free, and turns up at her knees. It’s head rests on a shoulder, peering up at her.
Third Floor
An iron statue, covered in a layer of rust, of a dragon standing, wings displayed, tail wrapped around the base. One eye is closed. The other is open, but the socket is empty. A claw held to its chest is clenched tight in a fist.
Normally, the DM rolls 2d4 and makes note of the turn on which the character recovers. Playing solo or otherwise without a DM, though, we should not know when the effect is to wear off.
In Melqart’s case, had I rolled the variable duration immediately, I might be tempted to plan the next turns—or otherwise use the information unconsciously. “We guard Melqart until he can move again…” This breaks the narrative tension and challenges verisimilitude.
Procedure
For these occasions, I use what I call progressive dice. Instead of rolling for the effect duration at the trigger to know on what turn the effect ends, we roll the same dice at the beginning of each subsequent turn to see if the effect ends in that turn.
A dice result equal to or greater than the current subsequent turn indicates the effect continues. Roll again at the beginning of the next turn. A lower result means the effect ends.
Examples
Simple Variable Duration
A shrieker’s alarm sounds for 1 to 3 rounds after exposure to light. The next round is the first round of the effect duration. No need to roll this round, as the effect continues even on a 1. On the second subsequent round, the shrieking continues on a 2 or higher. Third round, the shrieking continues only on 3 result. In which case, it ends at the beginning of the next round, having reached its maximum duration.
Fixed Plus Variable Duration
A character quaffs an invisibility potion, which lasts a fixed period of 6 turns plus a variable duration of 1 to 6 turns (by my reading of Holmes, 37), which is 7 to 12 turns. For the first 7 turns, no roll is necessary. The character is invisible. At the beginning of the eighth turn—that is, the second turn of the variable duration—roll a d6. On a 2 or higher, the invisibility effect continues. Less than 2, the effect ends; the character becomes visible.
Table of Turns, Duration: 6 plus 1 to 6 (7-12) turns
Duration
Turn
Fixed
1
2
3
4
5
6
Variable (d6)
7
8
9
10
11
12
*No. Subsequent Turn
(1)
2
3
4
5
6
*The effect continues on a dice result equal to or greater than the current subsequent turn. () No need to roll when the result can only indicate the effect continues.
Any Dice Combination
Melqart is stunned for 2 to 8 turns. Roll the same dice combination, 2d4, at the beginning of each subsequent turn, ignoring the first and second, when the result can only indicate the effect continues. But count all turns following the trigger as subsequent turns. At the beginning of the third turn of the duration, a 2d4 result of 3 or greater means the effect continues.
Table of Turns, Duration: 2 to 8 turns
Duration
Turn
Variable (2d4)
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
*No. Subsequent Turn
(1)
(2)
3
4
5
6
7
8
*The effect continues on a dice result equal to or greater than the current subsequent turn. () No need to roll when the result can only indicate the effect continues.
In Play
Disadvantage
More Dice Rolls: We are effectively replacing a single dice roll with a series of rolls, which we like to avoid as it takes more time.
Advantages
Fewer Notes: On the other hand, rolling the usual way, the DM must note and remember when the effect will end. Rolling progressive dice, at least one player has a vested interest in the roll, so it isn’t easily forgotten.
Player Agency: Even with a DM, the player may be allowed to roll the progressive dice.
Increasing Tension: There can be a lot riding on that dice roll. As the turns pass, the tension mounts.
While Melqart squirms on the floor, moaning, palms over ringing ears, the harpy is leading the rest of the party—all charmed—to its nest. Will Melqart come to his senses in time to save them…?
Statistically Equivalent?
I am uncertain whether there is a difference, using progressive dice, in the statistical chance for the effect to end in any particular point in the duration.
Rolling in the usual way, we have a 1 in 6 chance for the effect to end after any of six turns. At the same time, there is a 100% chance (6 in 6) for the effect to last at least one turn, a 5 in 6 chance it will last at least two turns, 4 in 6 for three turns, and so on.
With progressive dice, the chance to end the effect increases as the turns go by, starting at 0 in 6 in the first subsequent turn, 1 in 6 in the second turn, and so on, up to 5 in 6 at the beginning of the turn of maximum duration. If it doesn’t end on this turn, it will certainly end at the beginning of the next turn.
Intuition tells me it’s the same chance, but that guy has been wrong before. I’ve put the question to a smart math person. Your comments are also welcome. I’ll add an update when I get something.
Once again intuition leads me astray. The so-called “progressive” dice method described in this article is not statistically equivalent to the traditional method. This method is still useful in play, provided we accept the limitation. For further explanation and an alternative solution, see “Progressive Dice, a Misnomer.” [08:30 21 January 2022 GMT]
Watching one of Dyson Logos’s time-lapse videos is mesmerizing. Finger tips squeeze close to nib. Black ink trails as the pen glides along straight lines, jerks through hatch marks. Parallel lines become a long corridor, a protruding rectangle a door frame. Rubble strews across the floor.
Then the hatching. Short, quick strokes: one, two, three—one, two, three… That’s when we know: this guy’s wired different.
There’s a thing about a Dyson Logos dungeon map. By the hatching we recognize the style, because we’ve been admiring his work for more than a decade. But it ain’t the hatching.
The tripartite doorways either side of the entry hall, middle north, a blind stairway landing just south of it, rounded triangular daises in an octagonal room, a balcony overlooking half a chamber, stairs to the side, the generous use of dungeon furnishings—these catch the eye and draw us in.
But there’s more. Charting an imagined course through the dungeon, we follow branches, turn around at dead ends, weave one way or another along parallel routes, until we progress, via a wide thoroughfare, into the southern caverns.
This long trench reminds of a dry watercourse, perhaps a former Darkling tributary, which leads us to the dungeon’s end, where we find only stones and dry bones and lurking creatures. For we’ve missed the diamond-shaped central chambers where its priests work to repair “The Shrouded Emperor.”
That’s the thing about a Dyson Logos dungeon map.
Dyson Logos has been creating hand-drawn maps for fantasy role-playing games since 2009. You can support the creator on Patreon.
Urgent cries in distant dark. Dying echoes, fading into empty space. A spark—a flash of light, flickering orange. Columns rise high above, stabbing gloomy shade. Tunnels twisting out of sight.
Stumbling, lost, behind lumbering figures, purple-cloaked. Under arch, stepping down. Between close walls, beneath heavy vault, cauldrons crouch on red coals. Chanting priests raise green goblets to a shadowed image. All eyes are closed…
Many are troubled by such nightmares. Some wake, seeking respite. Some lie yet in fitful sleep.
Scale: 10’ Dungeon Levels: Seven Levels Deep Treasure Sequence: The Full Monty Squared Contents:Flying Tables by Dungeon Geomorphs Rules: Bluebook D&D
What I’m Doing
In “Dungeon Levels and Treasures,” I present several combinations of scale, dungeon level configuration, and treasure sequence. With the choice of rules and room contents determination method, there are myriad ways to run a Deep Halls campaign.
I want to try a few of them. I’m starting with the most deadly dungeon level configuration and an overly generous treasure sequence to see if it’s possible that player characters might survive to reach 2nd level. If it doesn’t work, it won’t take long.
First Delve into the Deep Halls.
The Full Monty Squared
10-5-1(2)^1-1-1{44:10}[4,763 XP, 2,255 g.p., 3]
Using this Squared variant of the Full Monty treasure sequence, we award 2 XP per gold piece. While, in a 50-room Level 1 dungeon, there are more than four times the XP required to gain a level, in the seven level configuration of the Deep Halls, Level 1 has only four rooms. Worse, our neophyte adventurers enter on Level 2, which has only 15 rooms. Even these are not contiguous. Nor is Level 3. The 1st-level party must venture to Level 4 before any characters level-up.
