Mogs Dungeon: Floor 2

time spews away from me in vast geysers, every second a smaller piece of the whole, fractions of fractions moving at the speed of thought and memory. vast halls of experience house baubles and curiosities, uncatalogued, they roll loose on the floor.

deeper under the world stonework becomes oppurtunistic. smooth, rarely level, and often wet, moving quickly carries risks of noise and pain, the earths quiet treachery.

squeezes defy the stiff certainties of plate, they deny its passage without offerings of grease or oil.

encounter table:

1d8 stuckbeetle (oil beetle, stucckoil: apply to door to make it stuck, effective as iron spikes, works on metal joints)
2d4 sauna drake (crocodile, fire breath, flesh turns water to steam, leather retains the property)
3d4 g. vampire bat, 1in20 chance one is a vampire
a possessed doll (wood golem, a demon locked in wooden curves of vicious strangesness. prefer lurking)
1d4 knight with 1d4 squire (veteran, normal human, zealots, here to slay the dragon and anything vaguely associatied with it. every group came with matching sets, the nature of mismatches dictate the mood)
barking gargoyles (rock baboon, inciting laughter expells coin, 1d20 times itself (*)gp per group)

Faction: 1: The Dungeon:

Oposses: The Prince

Enemies: The Sorceress and The Dragon

a creature in pieces. an assembly of places to harness the magic of oppurtunity. it is modular and creative, it would like to thank it's father for the sense of being, but has been unable to bridge the gap of sensation. it speaks like a skyline, impressionistic and distant, its meanings divined through interaction.

the dungeon is both the place that you are standing, and how it exsists in your mind.

a vast intelligence which improves through interaction with others.

Talisman: a wooden door knob hung from a cord of rope: every door takes 1 round to open

Comments

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i am going through the old school primer for a book club at the cauldron , it talks about using skills it has me thinking about skills. i thought he had a beard i think skills are, primarily, for the player, they are the handholds on a rockwall, something to give you grip when coming up with solutions. they are player tables, it can just be a list: heres one for one d six too many and they become a wall, a little dab will do ya, different flavors of action and styles of motion this adds tactility, it becomes something the player did when they ask the gm if their climb skill helps them. its another way to interact with the world, which can do wonders for creativity. equipment is setting is advice i heard a long time ago and have gotten so much use out of i love building equipment tables, they do so much work as far as vibes. and very specific equipment is no different than a skill, you just gotta carry it. skills are players mind equipment, they are gummy and recyclabl...

i started my dungeon for the dungeon jam

starting over, but not from scratch heres what i have so far, see what you can make of it, find the png here https://drive.google.com/file/d/1lkEckeoP4gvIQ6YAn8TeX9fwk3MRy1zR/view?usp=sharing the dungeon jam is here https://itch.io/jam/puzzle-dungeon-jam oh no, my layers are poorly organized and i already spotted a problem. . . and so it goes, forever. . . if you end up making something, and you're feeling generous, i'd like to see it. heres after another expedition *Mv#. . . the key is coming together and the image is clearer, that is enough for tonight i have made great strides today just finished running the dungeon for my group, it still needs work, but it is pruning not growth. ... i completed the dungeon, and i have decided to start again. the dungeon i made was big and weird and not much of a puzzle, more of a weird place to explore. there is a lot i like about it, and there is more i'd like to add, the adventure, i think, is bigger than four page and i'd like ...

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a fungus grows in my brain. it is in love with me. i do not know if i love it back. it coos at my bones while i visit the dreaming, a wonderful, seductive place, and my creaking bones are alive and pulsing. defiant to the end of the world. of their world. of my world. there is life in moments, it ripples through a sea of time, of change, of permanent impermanence. the odds were in my favor, and still i cannot win, through worlds but always endings, a smoke trail of cosmic cinders blinds me to the past. such vastness is not easily accessed, it must be traveled to over days and months and milliseconds. one more year, perhaps a few thousand more, i do not know, times tolerance is diminished. the sea rages, and this skeletal vessal creaks and moans. calcium is resiliant and beautiful and timeless oh godess thee, who carries pain, let me lighten thy load, for i am able, and i am willing, and let me feel while it can be done, and though joy is often out of reach, time ...

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