One Page Dungeon 2018: Beneath the Nameless Towers of the Kremlin

This year I thought I would do something gonzo and topical about all the rumors, disinformation, and horrible truths surrounding the Russia of the Czars, the Soviets, and Putin. There is a wealth of material, some of it verified, some of it shadowy, some of it obvious bullshit, and some of it (like Mushroom Lenin) a purposeful hoax. Any adventurers from any world using time or dimensional travel might find themselves summoned to the mad science labs under Moscow, embroiled in a Kremlinological intrigue.

 

The pdf version.

Linked pdf version with sources for all the history and mythology.

 

Undead Mussel Shells

A short note. These clacking monstrosities are the result of the persistent victimization of my nascent Dwarf Fortresses by a nearby dwarven necromancer and his gang, the Crewed Rags.

Emblematic of the procedural insanity in that game (as is, indeed, the very name "The Crewed Rags"), the logic is very simple. If a necromancer can raise the hard remains of any being into a living skeleton, then the remains of your shellfish feast are not safe ... and neither are you!

Indeed, those who cast Animate Dead near a kitchen garbage pail or close to yesterday's clambake are at risk for unleashing this horror on the world; truly a sight to chill the ... ah ... the cockles of the heart ...

UNDEAD SHELL SWARM

HD: 2
AC: 9 [10]
MV: 9
Attacks: Swarm, no need to roll a hit, damage 1d8/round, or 1d4 if wearing any armor.
Defenses: Smashing weapons do full damage, cutting 1/2 damage, piercing none.

Each 5' square of the swarm is a separate entity with its own hit points. The swarm is turned as a ghoul.

Text to Tabletop 3: Breaking Context

One theme I treated in my old Crimes Against Mimesis essays (see previous posts) was the clash between the elements of a puzzle and its context. I urged game designers to integrate game objects and puzzle situations more fully into their fictional worlds. A chainsaw shouldn't just be sitting there on a table for no reason; why not link it to a lumberjack that you've heard about in another scene? A cryptogram shouldn't just be there as a puzzle on a wall; maybe it's a way that the Red Hood Monks communicated to each other privately without breaking their vows of silence.

In the gonzo context, the player of the game is self-aware, and we see all sorts of random objects and puzzles, frame-breaking references to pop culture, genre intrusions, and other elements of gonzo.  What I was setting up as a standard in my Mimesis essays, though, was closer to James Maliszewksi's label of "Gygaxian naturalism" in D&D (though you could just as easily tag gonzo with the "Gygaxian" label). Naturalism applied to monsters leads to developing other characteristics than combat stats - to flesh out their feeding, reproduction, social structure, anatomy, and other mundane details. Naturalism in puzzles, likewise, makes sure each puzzle or problem has some meaning outside of the experience of the players trying to solve it. Naturalism creates more immersion in the world and strengthens the fictional frame rather than breaking it.

With the benefit of time and perspective, I would still recommend the designers of puzzles in role-playing scenarios to put them into context if they are going for a naturalistic feel. I think gonzo dungeons inflicted on a willing public are perfectly OK, the current belt-holder being Joe Bloch's Castle of the Mad Archmage, a sprawling reconstruction/homage to Castle Greyhawk. At the same time, there is something very satisfying about a puzzle or dungeon trick put into naturalistic context, and you have to respect the art and craft required to reconcile an artificial obstacle with a realistic world.

I've also realized there is a third option for puzzle context in roleplaying games, or for that matter, interactive fiction. There can be a mythic resonance to puzzles, monsters, dungeons, and other elements of an RPG.