Last week I described how I was going to use subway-style map for my megadungeon so as to increase the amount of vertical connections and loops that can be represented. I wasn’t necessarily thinking that each of the dungeon locations would be an underground station. I wanted the first few layers to evoke all the classic aspects of the undercity—sewers, storm drains, encampments in tunnels, and other subterranean infrastructure.
Thinking about it more, however, I realized that underground metro stations would be perfect locations for dnd-style dungeons. It is oft noted that the architecture of dungeons, especially megadungeons, does not really make sense, unless designed by a mad wizard. Why are all the rooms separated by long, circuitous hallways? Why do they sprawl out horizontally with no rhyme or reason except to perfectly fill a rectangular shape (like that of a piece of graph paper)? A Jaquaysed dungeon may make for challenging exploration, but it’s not really what you are going for if you want a functional building.
The architectural features that make little sense for a building like a ruined castle, however, work perfectly well for a metro station. I occasionally spend time in London for work, and I never fail to notice the circuitous nature of tube stations. Often when you want to transfer trains, you are shuttled down a seemingly idiosyncratic connections of twisting tunnels, moving up and down stairs and stairwells in a way that can be confusing. This is particularly noticeable if one is encumbered, e.g. with large suitcases. Consider these “axonometric” maps of London Tube Stations:
I’m of a mind just to use those as dungeon maps!
Or this map of Shibuya station in Tokyo:
These infrastructural spaces (along with similar ones like airports and rail stations) are not places made for living or for stationary working (vending booths and such notwithstanding). They are spaces made to connect other spaces, and this functionality requires its own architectural logic. For this reason they are well suited, perhaps, to be “dungeons,” in that their layout can be confounding and difficult to comprehend as a whole (as opposed to the layout of a house, for example).
Meanwhile, the tone of an abandoned station—one in ruin or perhaps occupied by some faction or weird creature—makes for a potentially interesting environment. Spaces may connect and loop back to either other in a variety of ways (platforms, escalators, stairs, lifts), but individually the spaces can be eerie and claustrophobic, with no where to run. Surely if you’ve taken the NYC subway late at night you are at least minimally aware about your surroundings.
Anyway, here is my week 1 Dungeon 23. Ignore my overly inked and unreadable map. I started to draw some water but then it looked like scribbled, so then I kept filling in water puddles and such but it didn’t make it better. One thing I did learn: this Rhodia paper can take a lot of ink! There was minimal ghosting on the other side of the page.
This station features:
• A skeleton ticket agent that will screech if disturbed.
• Water pooling on still-electrified tracks creating a dangerous situation (after some research this situation would not be dangerous in real life, as water drops all the time on electrified tracks, but…this is special magical water! or magical electricity! It’s a trap and you have to avoid it. Switch is in the room with the skeleton. Challenge based play ftw).
• Four Escalator Mimics, of differing dispositions: Kiet is a trickster, Haru is hungry, Cindy is playful, and Apsara is just lonely