Now What?

The best way out is (not) always through

I was thinking a lot this week about what I’m going to do with this megadungeon when the year is over, which brings up a dreaded and so far thoroughly avoided topic: How Does It End? Short answer, I don’t know. I had hoped to have a better idea by now, but I simply haven’t had the time to sit down and think about it. Heck, I don’t even have a complete outline and at this point it’s a little late. It’s all kind of discouraging, because I have some good ideas here but it feels highly disorganized and I can’t help but wonder if I took a wrong turn somewhere. I take some solace in the fact that it’s merely the rough draft, but as with many things I start, I have a difficult time following through. I am committed though, and looking forward to eventually going back over all of this and trying to make sense of it. Will it become a Finished Thing, worth sharing or publishing? Will anyone ever explore it for more than a session or two? These grander existential questions are not an ongoing concern, at the moment it all seems like some sort of fever dream. I do know with absolute certainty that it will end and that I will then take an extended break from this particular project.

As I write this, I should instead be working on my paid illustration work. Hey, I forgot that I never returned that contract, so I guess I don’t really need to. I could instead be trying to catch up on Day Job work, or I could be trying to write one of half a dozen other RPG ideas that I’m more interested in or that seem more tangible…maybe even completable! I don’t even really have anything coherent to write a newsletter about this week. I could write about the ridiculous Haunted Space House I’m working on for the Mothership RPG (a thing I’m actually excited about but don’t have time to work on.) I could write about blue pencils, sketchbooks, or how much I hate the Bristol board I’m using for the illustration I’m currently working on, but I’m exhausted. As expected, with illustration work due, I have fallen more than a week behind on the dungeon. I’m not stressing that, I’ve caught up before, and I’m much further behind on more important work. I still have several months of maps to share though, and I wanted to write something. Putting something out into the world every other week feels important, for accountability and to help me establish a writing practice.

With that, I’m gonna keep this short and get into the maps. Only two this week as I really am crunched for time and creative energy. I’ll try to keep at least that much going for the time being. Thanks for hanging in here with me. Please continue to read and share if you would, it helps keep me writing. I’d love to know what questions you have about this dungeon, games in general, art supplies (I have OPINIONS), guitar building, whatever!

Week 23: It seems like I still had coherent ideas and visions of a larger picture when I was working on these June entries. Most importantly, I had the good judgement to realize that nobody wants to play through an entire megadungeon anyway, and trying to keep it interesting and weird while being entirely underwater is just a bit too much. In fact, it’s even weirder if it starts to dry out farther down. Most of level 6 is a vertical descent through a tropical forest, clinging to the steep sides of the shaft. There are magical forces at play here, and discovering what shapes them is part of the puzzle. If they make it this far, PCs will have “unlocked” some powerful abilities to survive and move about underwater. Time to throw that out the window (for now) and see if they know how to climb! Plenty of potential for falling damage. I am making a note to myself to think about streamlining climbing procedures and rulings. (I could write several blog posts about how much time my gaming group spends fucking around with ropes in games.) Visually, it feels great to get back to the side view of the dungeon. It's all about the descent. Get Deep.

Week 24: I’ve hinted earlier that it feels important to me for there to be a point of no return in this dungeon. Not that it will be impossible to leave, but certainly not practical, and maybe not even desirable. One of the themes that keeps bouncing around in my head is the idea of the character becoming part of the dungeon. Not only is the dungeon changing as players interact with it, but there is a fundamental connection being made that will alter the way players play the game. Why return to a life of poverty and oppression if you can build a future here? If you make it this far, there will be ways to leave, but probably not the way you came. I want you to stand on one of these ledges and look up into the verdant dankness overhead, through which you’ve now travelled downward hundreds and hundreds of feet. I want that return to the “safe” parts of the dungeon to feel impossible, or at least not worth the effort. Or am I just a lazy dungeon writer and haven’t bothered to think of anything fully worth pursuing at the bottom of this pit? Stick around and find out. (I could write several blog posts about how bored I am of treasure and gold as XP, or how I think all endings suck, but that’s how this started and I am way too tired.)

This post has been converted from a previous Substack post and dated accordingly. Please let me know if it seems like something got lost or if you find any major formatting issues.

This was supposed to be a short one. Thanks for reading and sharing!

Andy