Thursday, October 16, 2025

The 10 types of special rooms

"A Special is anything not exactly a trap, but placed for special reasons." Moldvay Basic pg. B52

Traps, monsters, secret doors, and treasure all cohere into continuous flows of challenge/reward and mystery/discovery. Special rooms, on the other hand, largely stand apart from these conventional elements while also replicating them in miniature: drinking from the magic fountain might raise an ability score but it might also make you vomit bees for the next minute. The elevator that takes parties from the first to the sixth floor and locks behind them might be a death sentence for new PCs but incredibly valuable for high-level adventurers. 

The purpose of this exercise is to categorize common forms of "Special" rooms found in old school-style dungeons. 

While the point of special rooms is to have bizarre, unique dungeon set pieces that defy expectation, having a list of common forms might help DMs come up with new ideas, or new ways to approach conventional ones. 

A trio of caveats: 

  1. This is not intended to categorize the specific contents of special rooms (fountains, statues, etc.), but rather different meta-categories of special room.
  2. Special rooms may have two or more categories layered atop one another; i.e. the reward of a puzzle room may be transit to another part of a dungeon.
  3. These categories are not exclusive to special rooms—monster lairs, traps, and other kinds of rooms can also incorporate elements from this list. 

Anyway there are 10 types of special rooms

  1. Random Effect
  2. Experiment
  3. Alter Environment
  4. Exchange
  5. Side Quest
  6. Puzzle 
  7. Minigame
  8. Transit
  9. Trick
  10. Curiosity

Random Effect 

  • The room with the magic pools from In Search of the Unknown
  • The room with the magic stone, also from In Search of the Unknown.
  • A white tree bearing opalescent berries; eating one imparts a random boon or bane
  • A strange monolith covered in glowing runes of various sizes and colors. Each one does something different when touched. 

Random effect rooms offer players an opportunity to interact with something and roll on a table to see what happens. Alternate version is when there are multiple things to interact with and each one has its own effect. In both cases, the effects are unknown to the players and the general assumption is they are figuratively rolling the dice to see what happens. This is the OSR DM’s fast ball. The most fundamental special room, and the perfect crystal distillation of the OSR “play to find out” ethos. All you need is a random list of oddball effects and a distinctive set dressing to frame it and you’re all but guaranteed a memorable table experience. 

Not every kind of dungeon needs a room like this, but every dungeon has space for one. However, much like the fastball, it can get stale if you use it too frequently. I like having these on an early dungeon level, since low-level characters are easier for players to gamble with.



Experiment

  • A solar laser trained on a stone plinth; pulling a chain activates the laser, cutting anything on the plinth in half. 
  • A machine that spits out two shoddy copies of whatever is thrown in its hopper. 
  • Jeff Rients's classic tiny door
  • Anyone who passes under the gaze of the Mercury Idol turns to mist for the next 1d6 turns (as Gaseous Form). Nonliving material like equipment and armor are unaffected. 
  • A pedestal that polymorphs anything placed upon it into a beautiful vase. If removed, the vase reverts to its original form after a day or if it shatters. The vase currently occupying the pedestal is a polymorphed green slime. 

Experiment rooms offer a feature of open-ended utility to mess around with. You are probably familiar with them from the Dungeon Checklist

Experiments simultaneously resist understanding yet invite interaction, putting them in the sweet spot of good dungeon set pieces. The act of engaging with one is itself rewarding, because once the players learn the rules of an experiment they get to exploit it. The risk is lost goods, unwanted mutilation, and the like, while the reward is a new way for the players to use the dungeon to their advantage. 

Experiments operate on two axes of challenge: the challenge of figuring out how to properly interact and the challenge of figuring out how to exploit. Most good experiments only have challenge along one of these axes—in other words, something that is difficult to figure out how to operate should have a pretty good payoff (the splicing vats from Gardens of Ynn are a good example: there’s a complicated multi-step process you essentially have to trial-and-error, but getting them to work can lead to some pretty major benefits with no downside), whereas something that has an open-ended but not immediately beneficial utility should be rather straightforward to operate. 


Alter Environment

  • A valve that raises or lowers the water level throughout the dungeon. 
  • Flipping the switch to the blue side opens all the blue doors and locks all the red, flipping it to the red side does the reverse. 
  • Removing the skull from the center of the pentagram banishes the warding seals and spirit guardians but awakens the Hungering Darkness. 

Alter environment rooms offer means to change how the dungeon is navigated. This can mean any alteration to layout, doors, hazards, and so on. 

It is widely understood that good dungeon design involves both rooms where interacting with something in one influences something in another and that player actions can have an influence on the shape of the dungeon. Alter Environment rooms accomplish both of these imperatives.

The more area of the dungeon affected by an alter environment room, the more it becomes a central gimmick of the dungeon. If it's just a one-off thing where the lever in room x raises the gate in room y you're not communicating much of a theme, but if the players must repeatedly jump through the magic mirror to solve puzzles in the mirror-dimension version of the dungeon then it becomes a mirror-dimension dungeon in addition to whatever else you have going on. Good to keep that in mind. 


Exchange

  • Pour a potion in the Purple Witch's cauldron and she'll ladle you a vialful of her brew, which has the effect of a random other potion.
  • A giant copper-shelled snail eats copper pieces and excretes gemstones of comparable value.

Exchange rooms offer an opportunity for players to change their equipment, gear, or treasure in unique ways. 

Exchange rooms are particularly effective if you frequently use randomly generated treasure hordes, as they give the players an opportunity to offset the quirks of the dice in the event they end up with six scrolls of protection from lycanthropes or whatever. They also expand the toolset available to the players in dungeons, allowing for a selectively reliable way to trade unwanted inventory for something more useful providing new access to goods or services.


Side Quest

  • A statue comes to life when it's missing hand, found elsewhere in the dungeon, is restored. 
  • A vault's crystal door only opens once all the crystal braziers scattered throughout the dungeon level are lit. 

Side Quests offer a new goal in the dungeon and gives players players can pursue in addition to conventional dungeoneering activities.

Side quests work because they provide a little spice to dungeon exploration, giving a players a new avenue for progression. They also bring that much-coveted interconnectivity because, as you can guess, the object of the side quest must involve at least one other room.



Puzzle

  • Giant statue of a long-dead emperor looking menacing on the far wall; on the statue's plinth an inscription reads "Salvation through submission." Doors lock, poison gas fills the room, in a low hidden niche in the plinth—clearly visible to anyone kneeling before the statue—is a small switch that deactivates the locks and gas.
  • A room full of mirrors; one mirror reflects a door on the opposite wall that's not actually there. The mirror that reflects the door has a secret passage behind it. 
  • Anything involving a riddle.

Puzzles offer an in-game scenario that directly challenges the players’ ingenuity (or ingénue-ity, but I have less experience with that). 

It should go without saying that everything in a dungeon can be a puzzle, like combat, traps, navigational hazards and so on, so special rooms are no exception. 

Puzzles can be contained within a single room, but they don’t have to be--a common tip for designing puzzles is to seed clues in other parts of the dungeon to promote interconnectivity. 

“But if a puzzle has clues seeded around the dungeon, what distinguishes it from a side quest?” the hypothetical gun aimed at my head says. “What’s the difference between moving room to room to collect macguffins vs. moving room to room to collect clues?”
 
The main difference is: Puzzles are about thinking and Side Quests are about doing. Imagine a treasure vault guarded by a demon who will only let the party through if they utter a specific passphrase. In a scenario where each word in the passphrase is found within a different room, and the sequence is rather easy to intuit, this challenge is a side quest—it’s pretty easy to figure out what the problem is and the challenge becomes finding each word. But in a scenario where the passphrase is the solution to a riddle, or encoded in a mural elsewhere on the level, you’ve got yourself a puzzle. Admittedly there can be a lot of overlap between the two, but my rule of thumb is if the more demanding a side quest is the less demanding the figuring-out parts should be, and vice versa. 


Minigame

  • A pack of goblins invite you to race alchemically powered junk-karts. 
  • The mind-cube imprisons you in a mental maze, resolved by solving an actual pen-and-paper maze. 

Minigames offer an in-game scenario resolved through novel game systems. 

Minigames make for good diversions and give players a break from the main game. I ran a session recently where the party got access to an exclusive gambling hall. We spent most of the evening playing through the dice games in Appendix F of the AD&D DMG. It was a lot of fun, but not the kind of thing anyone wants to do every session. 



Transit

  • Room drops off to a massive void; lighting the candle on a nearby plinth attracts giant floating jellyfish that bring anyone who grabs ahold a harmless tentacle to a deeper dungeon level. 
  • Two identical circular chambers, each with a lever on the floor and a single door, north end for one and south for the other; stepping in one chamber and pulling the lever appears to rotate the room, door and all, 180°, transferring everyone to the other chamber elsewhere in the dungeon.

Transit rooms offer novel means to navigate elsewhere in the dungeon beyond your typical hallway or staircase.

Transit rooms allows for alternate routes for navigating a dungeon, can help parties save time and cut down on backtracking on repeat dungeon ventures, and can serve as navigational challenges. 


Trick

  • Illusory stairs conceal a spiked pit. 
  • A statue of a stern-looking angel. Anyone that approaches within a few inches must save vs. paralysis or be grabbed and restrained by the statue, which proceeds to release a blaring alarm.
  • A room lined with racks and racks of ornate swords; removing one causes the swords to animate and attack.

Trick rooms offer a nonstandard challenge or hazard. 

Tricks feel very old-school in the sense that many of the ones you see in classic modules feel deliberately designed to mess with the players in a kind of funhousy meta-gaming-from-the-DM-side way. That flavor of adversarial DMing has fallen by the wayside these days, as well as funhouse dungeons in general, but a thoughtful trick here or there can create a memorable moment and convey the more malevolent aspects of the mythic underworld. I might disagree with this claim later, but: a hallmark of a certain kind of old-school mindset to approach play is that having horrible things happen to your character can be as fun and engaging as having them succeed. 



Curiosity

  • Room echoes with the voices of everyone ever slain in the dungeon. 
  • An idiosyncratically cozy and well-appointed study, totally unlike the rest of the dungeon, complete with wizened sage reading & smoking a pipe in front of a warm hearth, somehow unmindful of the fact he's in the middle of a giant dungeon. 

Curiosity rooms offer a unique and distinctive location that lends to the dungeon’s mystery/majesty/dread.

Dungeons should have a healthy amount of idiosyncratic areas interspersed among standard rooms and corridors filled with traps, monsters, and treasure. Sometimes, these idiosyncratic locations may not have a clear utility or challenge or problem to solve. Curiosity rooms are less focused on the objects within than the locale itself; while they be focused around a distinctive set piece, like a unique NPC, the primary effect of a curiosity room is atmospheric.   

Art by Pedro Friedeberg

Tuesday, September 30, 2025

New Class: the Wild Man

It's not a novel observation to point out that, in BX D&D, a system which articulates a clear distinction between dungeon and wilderness adventures (the former described in Basic while the latter in Expert), there is no class that oriented toward wilderness adventuring the same way the thief, with their lock-picking, trap-finding, sneaking-and-hiding capabilities, is suited for dungeoneering. 

There are some wilderness-y classes in old school D&D: the ranger, which was born as a subclass of the fighter; the druid, a subclass of the cleric; and the Unearthed Arcana Barbarian for AD&D, which to my understanding was meant to be a solo-play super-class which meant it was sort of just a fighter with a bunch of extra abilities. 

BX is blissfully spared from class archetype inflation. In this game classes are not archetypes, but meta-archetypes; i.e. fighters are people who's main thing is fighting, whether they're a swashbuckler, a knight, or a viking, and so on. 

And so the wilderness class should stand on its own, not just be a "fighter/cleric, but..." 

Which leads me to:

The Wild Man



Wild Men (or Women, or Woodwose) are humans raised in the wilderness. It is not uncommon for Wild Men to have been reared by apes, wolves, bears, or other such creatures. 

Prime Requisite: Constitution

Restrictions: Wild Men use d8 to determine their hit points. They may advance to a maximum of 9th level. Wild Men may use leather armor and shields and can wield axes, clubs, swords, spears, daggers, slings, and bows. Wild men may not establish strongholds or recruit retainers from civilized lands. Wild men make saving throws as a fighter.

Special Abilities: 
  • Wild men have an 80% chance to climb steep surfaces as a thief and navigate difficult terrain without penalty by swinging from vines, leaping from branch to branch, scrambling over rough ground, and the like. At fourth level this ability extends to moving silently as a thief, but only in the wilderness. 
  • Wild men may jump a distance equal to half their combat movement vertically or horizontally from a standing position. 
  • When foraging, parties with a wild man always find at least one days-worth of food even if the foraging roll fails. 
  • A wild man may communicate nonverbally with animals, rolling reactions as for an NPC. If the animal’s reaction is at least “uncertain,” the wild man can attempt to tame the animal and have it join as a retainer by offering it food or other gifts. The wild man can never have more than his own hit-dice in animal retainers (stolen from Jeff of Swords & Schlock because it’s too good not to use). 
  • Wild men fight with reckless ferocity; before attacking, the wild man may declare they fight recklessly, gaining a +2 bonus to attack and damage but granting foes +2 to their attacks until the wild man's next turn. 

Level

Experience

Title

HD

THAC0

1

0

Tenderfoot

1d8

19 (+0)

2

2,250

Greenhorn

2d8

19 (+0)

3

4,500

Brute

3d8

19 (+0)

4

9,000

Rough

4d8

19 (+0)

5

18,000

Primal

5d8

17 (+2)

6

36,000

Predator

6d8

17 (+2)

7

72,000

Basajaun

7d8

17 (+2)

8

140,000

Apex

8d8

17 (+2)

9

270,000

Wodewose

9d8

14 (+5)





Discussion: 

The primary focus of the class is the movement abilities—having such open-ended methods to navigate the environment gives players a new relationship to verticality and space, which hopefully makes the class feel wholly different to play than the others. 

Communicating with and recruiting animals is also intended to provide new options for how players interact with wilderness locales, and also gives players the opportunity to mess around more with animals which everyone seems to love doing. 

My initial vision for this class was to give bonuses to things involved in wilderness travel, namely not getting lost, foraging and hunting, and tracking monsters to their lairs. Those abilities, in addition to being somewhat boring, are more focused on travel and less on actual adventuring in wilderness locales. But I wanted to throw the foraging ability in there because it seems odd that someone native to the wilderness would have trouble getting something to eat. 

The reckless attack ability is intended to be the wild man-version of a thief's backstab and also to prevent the wild man from being outclassed by the beefier cleric while not stepping on the fighter's toes of being the signature martial class. 

Why wild man and not barbarian? 

Barbarian is an admittedly better and more metal-sounding (so better) term, but it comes with a lot of baggage being a class that's like a figher-but-not-quite. The wild man can easily be considered a re-imagined barbarian, but it is explicitly more Tarzan than Conan. 

Wild men as an artistic motif were actually huge in medieval Europe, decorating all sorts of paintings, manuscripts, coats-of-arms, and  household objects. 

Here are a few words from The Wild Man: Medieval Myth and Symbolism by Timothy Husband, which I found quite illuminating:

Primitive, irrational, and heretical, the wild man would seem to have been a pariah in a world obsessed with religious interpretation and order. Yet it is largely these very characteristics of medieval society that explain the wild man's invention and development ... The wild man likewise served to counterpoise the accepted standards of conduct of society in general. If the average man could not articulate what he meant by "civilized" in positive terms, he could readily do so in negative terms by pointing to the wild man. As the dialectical antithesis of all man should strive for, the wild man was the abstract concept of "noncivilization" rendered as a fearful physical reality.


Thursday, August 14, 2025

GREENEYED PIG MEN

I'm not an "orc guy" by any means (hobgoblins are more my speed) but for better or worse they're intrinsic to D&D fantasy. Similar to what I wrote about elementals in my last post, orcs are one of those aspects of the game that beg to be reimagined, as evidenced by how many hundreds (of thousands) of words have been devoted to reinterpreting orcs with more nuance to either explain their brutish tendencies or justify why they can be killed without guilt. I've mostly stayed away from this topic and from orcs in general (more for aesthetic reasons than anything else, as I've never settled on a "look" for orcs that feels right) but the other night I passed out reading Planet Algol and dreamed of  Bebop from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles softly punching me in the face while psychedelic noise rock played in the background. I woke up in a trashed hotel room and found this post fully written in a notepad document on my laptop ANYWAY HERE IT IS

GREENEYED PIG MEN


GREENEYED PIG MEN
# Appearing: 2d6 (dungeon)/1d6x10 (overworld)/30d10 (overworld lairs) 
Armor Class: 7 
Movement: 120'(40') 
Hit Dice:
Attacks: +0 weapon (1d8) 
Alignment: Chaotic 
Morale: 8 (6 without a leader) 
Saving throws: Fighter 1
Lair: 50%
  • Greeneyes: Can't see well in full daylight, -1 to hit.
  • Death comes cheap: slain allies do not cause a morale check.
  • Leaders: Dungeon groups are led by a 2 HD captain (hp 9, Att. +1 1d8). Overworld groups are led by a 4 HD PIG MAN CHIEF (hp 15, Att, +3 1d8+2). Lairs have their own leaders, detailed below.
  • War pigs: Fight other tribes on sight. Commands from their leader to stand down are only obeyed 50% of the time.
GREENEYED PIG MEN live to fight. Prolonged bouts of pacifism atrophy their muscles and cause their organs to fail. PIG MEN are practical and don't care for tough decisions; they instinctively seek out leaders who prove their might and ensure they can kill and raze as they please.

Lairs (1d20)

1-6. CAVE COMPLEX


Leader: 1:10 chance per 100 PIG MEN it’s a dragon, otherwise it’s a PIG MAN chief

Additional occupants: 10% chance per 50 pig men (checked independently): 

  • 1d6 ogres

  • 1d4 trolls

  • 1d4 ettins


7-11. WAR CAMP

Commander (1d8): 

1-4. PIG MAN chief 

5-6. Chaotic Fighter (7-9 HD)

7-8. Magic-user (11 HD)

Additional forces: roll twice +1 additional time for every 50 PIG MEN above 150

1. Team of 1d4 PIG MAN beast tamers w/ trained chimera, hydra, basilisk, or giant scorpion

2. 1d3 tiraphegs

3. 1d10 war-painted dire boars 

4. 3d8 0 HD human meatshields

5. 1 hill giant

6. 1d4 trolls

7. 1d6 ogres

8. 1d8 PIG MAN pterodactyl riders


12-14. SKULL FORTRESS

Dark Lord (1d8):

1-2. Chaotic fighter (9 HD)

3-4. Magic-user (8-11 HD)

5-6. Evil High Priest (11 HD) 

7-8. Abyssal Demon (Bael’rogh)

Additional forces: As War Camp


15-17. MULTI-TIERED PLATFORM VILLAGE complete with robust inter-platform zipline network

Leader: As War Camp 

Additional occupants: as Cave Complex


18-20. They’re just piled on top of one another in a GIANT PIT

Leader: PIG MAN chief 

Additional occupants: None, but the pit has a 1:10 chance per 100 pig men of being situated at the foot of... (1d12): 

1-2. a Dark Lord’s stronghold.

3-4. a dragon’s mountain.

5-6. a recently ransacked human settlement.

7-8. a matronly elder hag’s cottage.

9-10. a giant mind-controlling mushroom.

11. an unspeakably horrifying obsidian effigy.

12. a smoldering crater, radioactive meteorite still glowing.

Convoys

When PIG MEN are encountered in the overworld outside of their lair, there’s a 37% chance they are escorting a wagon train. The train will have 2d4 wagons, and will have 10 PIG MEN guarding each wagon in addition to the number of PIG MEN initially rolled for the encounter. 

Convoy leader (1d6)
1-2. Fighter (7-9 HD)
3-4. Magic-User (7-9 HD)
5. Cleric (7-9 HD)
6. PIG MAN chief or something else

Wagon contents (2d6 for each)
2-4. 1 large, cumbersome statue, tapestry, or other piece of art worth 2d6 x 100 sp
5-6. 2d6 x 100 sp worth of trade goods like spices, furs, rare lumber, etc.
7-8. 2d6 x 100 sp in coins
9. Weapons, armor, and ammunition
10. Materials required to construct a catapult or other siege engine
11. 2d4 potions and 2 scrolls 
12. 1 miscellaneous magic item

What are GREENEYED PIG MEN? (1dwhatever)

1. Vat-spawned soldiers created for a long-forgotten war.

2. The offspring of other pig men breeding with female swine.

3. Men subjected to a curse that befalls those who spill blood on holy ground.

4. No one can say for sure, but it has something to do with fungus.

5. Organisms that spontaneously generate in dungeonous environments.

6. Children of the great demon Idnach, mother of monsters. 

7-100. don’t worry about it.




Sample GREENEYED PIG MAN clans & names


CLANS
1. Razorbacks. Incredibly hairy. Experts at ambushes and guerilla combat. 2. Rotting Sun. Covered in sores and rashes. Accompanied by swarms of biting flies. 3. Thrashbangers. Thick goggles protect their eyes from the sun. Fight with makeshift grenades and explosives. 4. Black Feast. Wear spiked leather harnesses. Eat fallen foes and allies. 5. Toegrinders. Decorate their armor with skulls and bones. Ride into combat on lumbering battlewagons. 6. Greenskins. Rather unremarkable.

NAMES
1. Gurglesnort

2. Master Exploder

3. Trotenheim

4. Excrementus

5. Slugnutz

6. Krunt

7. Rashburn

8. Elfsqueeze

9. Scum Gutter

10. Gruesome

11. Skidmark

12. Oglebog

13. Throckmorton

14. Weasel Piss

15. Dunkhead

16. Jagwort

17. Weenus

18. Gigantic

19. Crusher Prime

20. Bloodgut