Saving The Tomb of Horrors

The Tomb of Horrors is one of the most well-known D&D modules.  However, it has not stood the test of time.  It hearkens back to the days of killer DMs and was intentionally designed to be as deadly as possible.  Some people still consider this a good time, and more power to them.  But I'd like to think that the newest generation of players prefers a good story to a bloodbath.

There's a great blog here about why this module isn't particularly fun (actually his exact words are "worst, shittiest, most disgusting piece of pig vomit ever published").  And I agree, ToH should probably be avoided by most modern groups.  But I think there is some appeal to unusually deadly dungeons.

Everyone knows that I'm not into hardcore campaigns.  But if you go into a session knowing it's going to be deadly, with a stack of characters you're not attached to, it could be a great time.  Much like Dragon's Lair, and it could be fun to go through it just to see all the different ways you can die.  DMDave recently posted a "Neverending Dungeon" module that's so deadly that it's practically a Roguelike, and it looks pretty fun.  I could see taking a similar approach to the Tomb of Horrors.

Tomb of Horrors is a very trap-heavy dungeon.  I don't really have a problem with that, but I prefer traps that require actual problem-solving skills to detect and dismantle.  An awful lot of ToH's traps rely on random chance, and many are instant-death traps.  This makes playing the module more like gambling than storytelling, though that's not a deal breaker.

Overuse of traps creates paranoid players.  I've seen old school gamers who tap every tile with a ten-foot pole, and use their other hand to dangle string to detect wind currents.  Remember that epic scene in Fellowship of the Ring when they tapped every tile with a pole because they were afraid it might be trapped?  Me neither.  It's a silly visual, and it makes games tedious.

I've seen DMs get frustrated at players who slow down the game by over investigating.  Sometimes these are the same DMs who turned them paranoid by making every third chest a mimic.  If you do this to your players, you have no right to complain about what they become.

But if you do use a lot of traps, just remember to make them clever, make them detectable, and make them survivable.  Any idiot can randomly declare "the floor opens up and drops you in the lava."  There should always be clues.  A player should never have to flip a coin to decide whether to pull the lever left or right, especially if a wrong pull means instant death.

I want to look at a couple of ToH's specific traps more in-depth.  Let's start with the Arch of Mist.  One of the first doorways you come across is filled with mists.  As the players approach the arch, three of the stones glow in different colors, hinting that you should press the stones before entering the arch.

If you enter the arch without pressing the stones, you'll be teleported to a prison area.  If you press the stones in the right order, the mists will clear.  Entering the arch while clear will teleport you to one of two other locations, depending on whether you are standing on the two-foot wide path of red tiles on the floor.

It's not a particularly deadly trap.  Even the worst result just sends you to a prison room, where another badly-clued puzzle can either help you escape or get you killed.  The problem with the Arch of Mist is that there's no real hints at the order to press the tiles.  It's an "experiment until you win" puzzle, and one of many in the dungeon.

The intro to the original version of Tomb of Horrors stressed that "this is a thinking person's module" and not suitable for "hack and slay" groups.  Except very few of the puzzles actually require problem solving skills.  You try the wrong thing, it doesn't work, you try the right thing.  If you get killed, you pull out another character and try again.  This "brute force" approach would be great for a first level dungeon when you have a stack of pregens ready, but the original module was designed for character levels 10-14.  That's much too late in a campaign to die from bad dungeon design.

My other issue with the Arch of Mist is having to stay on the path for a better result.  See, different players go into different degrees of detail when describing what they're doing and when.  I've seen players who act out the way they sling their satchel as they turn, how they lean against the wall with their elbow, and how they sit by the fountain with one ankle resting on their knee.  And I've seen other players who just say, "yeah, I'm in the room too."

When walking through the entrance hall of the Tomb of Horrors, some players are going to resolve to stay on the red tiles.  Some will do this by describing every five feet of movement in detail, and others are going to say "I stay on the red path" once at the beginning of the hall, and never mention it again.  When the latter reach the Arch, the DM might ask "Are you still on the red path?"

That kind of question is always a red flag, and the player will decide right then whether they had been on the red path the whole time.  Or the DM might not ask, and base it on whether they remember the PC mentioning they were on the path before.  This is the kind of thing that leads to arguments about who said what.

My fix:  I'd have the red path stop at the entrance to the Arch, and leave it out of the puzzle.  If you enter the Arch without pressing anything, you appear back at the tomb's entrance.  Enter after pressing the wrong combination, you teleport to the prison.  Enter after pressing the right combination, you go the further into the dungeon.

I would have an actual clue somewhere about the correct combination.  The colors are yellow, blue, and orange.  So how about we make the correct combination Blue-Orange-Yellow, and have a clue involving the word "boy" somewhere?  "Trust the boy to lead you forward."  Beats the trial-and-error method.

Next I want to talk about one of my favorite rooms in the module, the Pillared Throne Room.  This is a huge room with eighty stone columns, with a throne on the South wall.  If a PC touches one of the columns, they magically become weightless, and start floating helplessly around the room.  There is a gentle breeze that pushes them towards a pair of devil faces on the NE and NW sides of the room, each of which teleport the PC to other locations.

This is a fun trap.  The imagery is whimsical, and it's a lot more creative than the usual spike pit trap.  It's not exactly deadly (though the locations it teleports you to can be), and it's slow enough that the other PCs can scramble to rescue you with lassos or spells.  Overall, it's a great trap.

However, I'm unsure about how it gets triggered within the narrative.  The description says, "any character who touches a pillar with or without intent" triggers the trap and floats upward.  Like I mentioned above, different players describe their actions differently.  Some players will specifically mention touching a column, but others are just going to say "I walk toward the throne."

Arbitrarily telling a player that they touched a column seems unfair.  You don't know if they're the kind of character who brushes every wall, or who keeps their hands in their pockets out of fear of triggering a trap.  Do you just pick a PC at random?  Is there any way to ask them if they've touched a column without making it clear that it's some sort of trap?

My fix: Give them a reason to want to touch a column.  Have the columns encrusted with expensive looking jewels (actually colored glass, but you can't tell without prying one off).  Touching a jewel, even with the tip of a knife, triggers the trap.  Also, just for the fun visual, have them blow up like Violet Beauregarde (the magic makes their clothes expand too) and bounce off the columns like a pachinko machine on their way to the devil faces.

Finally, I want to discuss the infamous Face of the Great Green Devil trap in the module's first hallway.  I don't know if this trap even works any more, because it's so well known.  It has to have reached "It Was His Sled" status in D&D circles.  But its reputation as a party killer doesn't make sense to me.  To be clear - I'm not bothered by the fact that it's an instant death trap, I'm bothered by killer DMs who allow entire parties to wander into the thing.

The idea - at least when I see it described by other people - is that the first person enters the mouth, thinking it's a secret tunnel.  He dies, but the other party members just see him disappear into the darkness, so they follow and die too.  Devious, simple, and early enough in the dungeon that you still have enough night left to find a better module to run.

Except the description as printed in the module doesn't necessarily imply a TPK.  Here is the actual text from the original AD&D module, which hasn't changed much in the modern version:

The Face of the Great Green Devil: The other fork of the path leads right up to an evil-appearing devil face set in mosaic at the corridor's end. (Show your players Graphic # 6). The face has a huge O of a mouth; it is dead black. The whole area radiates evil and magic if detected for. The mouth opening is similar to a (fixed) sphere of annihilation, but it is about 3' in diameter - plenty of room for those who wish to leap in and be completely and forever destroyed.

I've seen two misinterpretations.  One is that the mouth is a tunnel leading to the actual sphere, but because the inside of the mouth is magical darkness, the rest of the party don't see victim get disintegrated.  Except the description doesn't mention a tunnel.  The description implies that the darkness is the sphere.

The other misinterpretation I've seen is that sticking any body part in the mouth instantly disintegrates you, but to the rest of the party, you look like you just teleported, leading them to follow suit.  But unless I'm missing something, there is nothing in there that implies that either.

Look, I know Gary Gygax designed this dungeon to kill off high level characters, in order to put them in their place.  But going strictly by the text, that particular trap is open to interpretation.  The way I read it, it is just as believable that the rest of the party sees the victim die, and knows they are dead.  It's actually a pretty good way of showing the rest of the party how deadly the dungeon is, so they are that much more careful.

Plus, the way a Sphere of Annihilation works is a bit nebulous as well.  My question:  Does touching the thing instantly disintegrate your entire body, clothes and all?  Or does it only disintegrate the part that touches it?  If I touch it with my finger, do I lose the finger or my life?  If I crawl into the mouth head first, does the party just see my body go limp as my head disintegrates?

To answer this, I looked up both the AD&D and 5e versions of the sphere.  Here's what the AD&D DM guide has to say:

A sphere of annihilation is a globe of absolute blackness, a ball of nothingness 2' in diameter. A sphere is actually a hole in the continuity of the multiverse, a void. Any matter that comes in contact with a sphere is instantly sucked into the void, gone, utterly destroyed - even wishes and similar magicks have no effect!

And here's the updated description from 5e:

This 2-foot diameter black sphere is a hole in the multiverse, hovering in space and stabilized by a magical field surrounding it. The sphere obliterates all matter it passes through and all matter that passes through it. Artifacts are the exception. Unless an artifact is susceptible to the damage from a sphere of annihilation, it passes through the sphere unscathed. Anything else that touches the sphere but isn't wholly engulfed and obliterated by it takes 4d10 force damage.

That's actually a pretty big change.  So originally, touching the sphere meant you were sucked into it, like a black hole. The party would likely see this happen, and I can't imagine it looking like a positive thing.  You might start to enter the sphere under your own power, but once you're a few inches in, you're suddenly pulled in the rest of the way.  The difference in how you move won't be subtle to those watching.

But the 5e version describes the sphere differently.  It says that it only destroys what touches it, and even spells out what happens if something touches it without being totally engulfed.  You are not going to be totally engulfed at once by a three foot sphere, unless you take a running leap at it.  Some part of your body is going to touch it first.  When the party sees you take that 4d10 force damage, they're not going to want to follow suit.

My fix:  Just don't act like a 10-year old on a power trip.  The text of this trap doesn't actually need fixing, it just needs to be interpreted differently.  Have the first PC to touch it lose a finger.  If they jump into the mouth head first, make sure the rest of the party sees what happens and make it look painful.  Even if you decide to go with the original "black hole" version, describe it in a way that discourages the rest of the party from repeating the mistake.

"As you touch the darkness of the Devil's mouth, your fingers seem to elongate as they are pulled into the void.  You feel your entire body being dragged by an overwhelming force.  Your skin is ripped from your fingers, your eyes pulled from their sockets, and you barely have time to scream before you are completely drawn into the inky blackness, never to return.  Not even your soul is able to escape the relentless pull of this shadowy vacuum, dooming you to an eternity of darkness."

Hell, maybe even have the Devil face belch for comedic effect.  Hopefully the rest of the party won't see this and say, "That looks like fun, me next!"

But patching this module one trap at a time is like trying to stop a flood with a sponge.  If I were to run the module myself, this is what I would do.

My Overhaul:

"You have been hired by your guild to oversee the excavation of the Tomb of Horrors.  Your guild has hired fifty Dwarven miners to explore the tomb and uncover its secrets."

In my version of the Tomb of Horrors, the established PCs might never enter the tomb at all.  Instead, they manage a party of expendable henchmen, using sheer numbers and brute force to explore every inch of the dungeon.  This way they get to see most of the deaths without a TPK ending the session early, and without losing beloved characters they've been playing for years.

The Dwarven mining company consists of forty fighters, five rogues, and five wizards.  Feel free to play with that ratio, but use the same three pregens for all the miners.  I'd say make the pregens about 10th level.  Or use the sidekick rules from the Essentials box - these don't need to be full characters.

The PCs decide how many miners go into the tomb at a time, and what combination of classes.  The rest of the miners, along with the PCs, set up camp outside the tomb.  They are given sending stones to communicate with the miners currently inside the tomb.  The explorers stay in constant contact with the PCs, letting them know which way they're going and how they defeated certain traps.  The PCs are free to go in themselves at any time, and might even have to in order to defeat the final boss.

Give the players a spreadsheet to record the miners who are sent into the dungeon.  Have columns for Name, Class, Gender, and Fate.  Have the players come up with the names as they send them in.  Use the Fate column to record their gruesome deaths and career-ending injuries.

The miners are brave, but they're not stupid.  Don't let the players get too cavalier about sending them into obvious death traps.  Warn the players that for every fallen miner, a reward will be paid to their family.  This comes out of the final payment to the PCs. Challenge them to finish the module with the fewest possible deaths.  When the module is finished, reward them based on puzzles solved and surviving miners.

But wait, there's more!  On the way to the tomb, the miner caravan has to pass through a forest protected by fey spirits.  They are stopped by dryad guards and brought before the Forest Queen.  The Queen is supportive of their plan to defeat the evil in the tomb, because the tomb's encroaching miasma was causing her trees to wither.  The Queen sends a fairy emissary with them.

This fairy companion accompanies the miners into the tomb.  She can't help them fight or solve any puzzles, but if the party is completely stuck she can drop hints based on fey intuition.  She can't cast spells, but she can be used as a light source.  She is immune to most of the tomb's death traps (don't call attention to this, just always have her flying out of harm's way), and she can deliver messages to and from the tomb in case the sending stones are destroyed.  If there is a TPK in the tomb, she escapes and leads the next party to where the last party left off, warning them of how the previous explorers died.

Is that too tame for something with the word "Horrors" in the title?  Perhaps.  But played as written, a lot of groups don't end up making it far enough into the tomb to see a lot of horror.  At least with my method, you get to see more of the carnage.  Heck, you might even use this opportunity to dial the horror up to 11.

I know, Gary Gygax is rolling over in his grave, but he and I saw this game very differently.

Links:

DM Dave's Neverending Dungeon
https://www.patreon.com/posts/neverending-1-35922622

John Wick Presents - Worst Adventure of All Time
http://johnwickpresents.com/updates/the-worst-adventure-of-all-times/

The Rule of Three Revisited

Some RPGs have a the “Rule of Three” when it comes to survival checks.  It varies from system to system, but I have seen this rule of thumb come up in more than one RPG.

Basically, a PC can go:

…three minutes without air.

…three days without water.

…three weeks without food.

Generally speaking, the PC doesn’t immediately die at the end of those time periods, it just means at that point they have to start making saving throws. 

I would like to add a few of my own.

…thirty seconds without blinking.

Mostly used for staring contests.

…thirty seconds without sneezing.

Let’s say you’re trying to hide.  Maybe you’ve found a pretty good hiding space, but it’s dusty.  There’s so much dust in the air, in fact, that you feel a sneeze coming on.  Except sneezing will give you away, so you restrain yourself.  After thirty seconds, you have to start making CON checks or you’ll sneeze.  Arguably this kind of thing would be covered by stealth checks, but why punish less stealthy characters for something clearly CON-related?  Let’s say you already found a really great hiding place, like a wardrobe.  Stealth is no longer an issue, now you just have to keep from sneezing.

…three hours without using the restroom.

This doesn’t mean your character has to use the restroom every three hours.  It just means that three hours after you eat, you start to feel the need to relieve yourself.  If choose not to go at this time, you have to make a CON save each hour.  It's an easy CON save at first, but the difficulty gets higher each hour.

Okay, let me make one thing clear.  I would never actually play in a campaign where the DM makes us roll for every bowel movement.  Heck, I don't even like DMs who make me keep count of my arrows.  But the restroom rule would be for very specific situations.  For example... Oh, I don't know, maybe your DM is running a one-shot based on the "Potty Emergency" episode of Animaniacs.

…three days without bathing.

This one would depend on the setting.  In some medieval-style worlds, three weeks might be more appropriate.  Still, there aren’t a lot of excuses to make CHA saves in D&D, so this would be one of them.  Excessive body odor can affect social interactions, and even attract monsters.  The saving throw (or skill check) represents your ability to clean up nice, perhaps wiping away excessive sweat, etc.  Can your character trek through the swamp and still make themselves presentable to the king later?  Remember, never let them see you sweat.

…three months without sex.
Unless they’re married, in which case they can go three years without sex.  Of course this one started as a joke.  But why not?  Well, to be honest, I’m hesitant to even mention sex in an RPG.  You have to be playing with the right kind of group, and you need to establish some serious ground rules in session zero.  Even then it's not a subject I'm likely to approach as a DM.  For some, even mentioning rules for sex opens the door to inappropriate behavior.  

But I'm not saying that failing your CON save would send you into a sexual frenzy.  My idea is that if you fail your save, it makes some social interactions awkward.  Maybe you have disadvantage on rolls to interact with NPCs you find attractive, because you keep staring in the wrong place or stumbling to say the right thing.  

Eh, still probably not a great idea.  Given recent events in the RPG community, I'm not sure even the best DMs are capable of handling the subject in an inoffensive way.  

But it doesn’t even have to be sex.  It can be anything your character is into.  Try this:  When you create your character, and you’re filling out the “Personality Traits/Ideals/Bonds/Flaws” section, make sure to list something your character really loves.  It could be swimming, chocolate, painting, petting cats, bacon, spending time with family, painting cats with bacon, or watching a play.  Really any hobby or indulgence that’s possible in the setting.  If they don’t get the opportunity to fulfill that need once every three months, they start to make saving throws.  The stat might vary depending on the thing being missed, but for WIS saves seem appropriate for most of them.  Failing a save means that the character cares less about their quest.  Sometimes you have to be reminded of the good in the world to continue to want to save it.

This might be more of a roleplay penalty than a mechanical one, giving players an opportunity to act out how they deal with being homesick for their favorite activities.  On the other hand, this despair could cause you to have trouble concentrating (affecting spellcasting or INT/WIS saves) or make it so your heart’s just not in it (penalty to attack rolls).

A lot of this blog is meant as humor more than actual suggestions.  Regular readers know I prefer my RPGs with the simplest rules possible, and the above ideas make the game more complicated.  Still, if any of you decide to get silly and use some of these ideas, let me know how it goes.

Simplified Death/Dying Rules

Unpopular Opinion: The Death and Dying rules in most RPGs really overthink things.

In a lot of RPGs, the Death and Dying rules take up nearly an entire page.  But death is one place where I really think the Player's Handbook should step back and let the story make the rules. 

This is all I need:

1. If you hit zero hit points, you fall unconscious.

2. At this point you are at the mercy of your enemies, who may use an action to finish you off.  There is no roll to finish off a creature that is at zero hp.

3. If no one bothers you, you regain 1 hit point after an hour.

Of course rule # 2 is the tricky part, and requires a DM who isn’t cruel.  But realistically, a monster isn’t going to waste an action to finish off a PC as long as other PCs are still a threat.  So by my rule, almost every PC death is a TPK, because if even one PC outlasts the monsters, no one will ever finish them off. 

The important thing is to figure out the enemy’s motive.  Are they fighting a mindless monster or a humanoid with an agenda?  If it’s a monster, is it fighting because it’s hungry, angry, scared, or territorial?  If it’s a human, is it trying to rob the PCs or does it want them dead?

A hungry monster isn’t going to stop and eat while it’s still being attacked.  Downed PCs are safe as long as one PC remains standing.  When the fight is over, it will eat until it’s full, finishing off one or more PCs depending on how much it can eat.  When choosing the PC to finish off, start with the closest, probably the last PC to fall.  If it’s a smaller monster that couldn’t even finish a single human, be nice and have it start with a leg.

Monsters fighting out of fear will probably back off once the threat is gone.  They won’t usually finish off PCs, because unconscious PCs are no longer a threat.

Bandits will probably let PCs live, but will steal their items.  Some might also tie the PCs up so they won’t be followed, but others will be in more of a hurry, and want to get out of there before more NPCs arrive.  The latter won’t steal all the PCs’ possessions, just the most obvious loot.

If the PCs happen to be the villains, the guards won’t finish them off, preferring to take them to jail instead.  Even if the PCs are wanted dead or alive, serious bounty hunters will usually prefer to take them alive, because it's worth more money.

Assassins sent by the story's Big Bad will finish the PCs off.  But as with everything, look at their motivations.  The Big Bad might send goons who just want to send a message, or recover an item the PCs stole, or capture them to learn some information.  Remember, death is the least interesting thing you can do to a PC, so try to give villains deeper motivations than "I want the PCs dead."

Of course, not everything that kills a PC has a motivation.  With my system, environmental damage would have to count as finishing a PC off.  If a PC is at zero hit points, and is then buried in an rockslide, that would probably have to count as finishing them off.  Or if you've already been downed by an enemy fighter, then you get caught in an evil wizard's fireball spell that was mostly targeting your allies.

In this respect, my system is actually deadlier than the real rules, because almost any post-zero damage is a coup de grace.  But the DM should still consider the type of damage, and whether it might work better to give the PC a lasting injury instead.  If they hit zero HP from falling off a cliff, and then a rock lands on their foot, that shouldn't be a killing blow.

But what about massive damage rules?  What if you have 25 hit points, and a monster does 60 hit points to you in one hit?  Well, if that happens, then you have a terrible DM.  Seriously, someone has seriously miscalculated the CR of the monsters you should be facing.  Remember that the players outnumber the DM, so consider tying the DM up and leaving him in the woods somewhere.  I think you'll find that solves a lot of the problems at your table.

I've said it before, but it bears repeating:  D&D is not a competitive sport.  It is not "DM vs Players."  D&D is a cooperative storytelling game.  The point isn't to kill your players, but to work with them to craft an interesting story. 

Ninety percent of the rules are there to keep things balanced, so that the killer DMs and min-maxing powergamers don't tear the story down around them in favor of self-indulgent power trips.  But the better the roleplayers, the fewer rules are needed.  With the right group, you barely need dying rules at all.