A Review of Dwimmermount

After writing a few blog posts about Dwimmermount, and running over 10 sessions of the adventure for various local players, it's time to pull it all together into a review.  The short version:  Dwimmermount is very, very good.

The hardcover of Dwimmermount is a hefty tome, weighing in at 428 pages.  It represents an entire campaign and setting in a single volume; the contents include a sprawling 13 level dungeon, surrounding lands as a hex crawl, a nearby settlement and home base, and tons of supporting materials - new monsters, magic items, other planets, detailed histories, and plenty of supplementary rules.  Dwimmermount comes either in a Labyrinth Lord compatible or Adventure, Conqueror, King (ACKS) compatible version; for reference, I've been using the ACKS version at the table.

As an adventure,Dwimmermount does some things really well.  The setting of Dwimmermount draws direct inspiration from early 20th century pulp fantasy authors like Abraham Merritt and Edgar Rice Burroughs, and it hearkens back to the free-wheeling fantasy settings of the 1970's.  The campaign is a fantastic vehicle for experiencing pulp and science fantasy adventure, and seeing the many inspirations of 1970's Dungeons & Dragons realized in a modern setting.

Dwimmermount is the Axis Mundi, the mythic center of the world of Telluria.  All the major historical events of the game world involved the dungeon, and exploration of the dungeon is exploration of the secret history of the world.  There are enough secrets, twists, and reveals, to sustain an entire campaign centered on exploration of the dungeon.

Not only is Dwimmermount practically textbook-sized, it can function as a textbook example on how to conceive, create, and run an old school style mega dungeon campaign.  There have been larger dungeons in terms of maps and rooms, but none have brought Dwimmermount's literary sensibilities, depth, and execution.

However, there are some issues to consider before running a game there.  First, the campaign is heavily tied into the world of Telluria, the setting of Dwimmermount. Telluria has a unique view on elves, dwarves, the planets, and the gods.  The history of the world is specific, and this specificity is striped through every aspect of the dungeon.  This tight integration between the dungeon and setting is fantastic if you want to run a full Dwimmermount campaign on Telluria, but would generate a lot of work for a referee trying to insert the dungeon into a preexisting setting.

The inspiration, vision, and draft of the campaign came out of the notes and home campaign of James Maliszewski, and the actual book was then developed, embellished, and produced by the staff at Autarch.  Dwimmermount demonstrates the challenges inherent in transforming raw game notes from a lengthy campaign into a fully realized and published game book.  For various reasons, the project ran late, and utile features like an index didn't make the cut.  It can be hard to find obscure references in a 400 page book while using it at the table.  I've found myself employing sticky notes and tabs to keep track of frequently referenced pages.  One item that's improved the table experience is the Dwimmermount "Dungeon Tracker", an add-on product that makes Dwimmermount easier to run at the table by providing handy versions of the maps and level keys.

My overall stance on Dwimmermount is that it is very impressive.  I love the literary allusions and pulp fantasy vibe, and the campaign has fired the imaginations of the kids and dads in my local play group.  I've had more fun running this campaign than any game I ran in the past year, and that's perhaps the best praise I can give any game book.  I highly recommend it.

If you want to know more, here are other recent blog posts (at the Lich House) involving the dungeon:

• Dwimmermount Analysis and Discussion
• Dwimmermount Game Reports

Dwimmermount: Exploration and Mapping as an End in Itself

Dungeon exploration games like D&D (or ACKS, the rules set I'm using for my Dwimmermount game) splits the table activity between combat, exploration, and roleplaying.  Player advancement in the game comes from experience points, earned from treasure, and combat experience, earned by defeating monsters.  Furthermore, the ratio of experience-from-treasure vs experience-from-combat is recommended at a ratio of 4 to 1 (83% of the party's experience comes from treasure).  Dwimmermount has some interesting alternatives on expanding treasure and experience in the dungeon by monetizing aspects of their exploration, some things I've never done before.

There are two ways players can "monetize" the exploration of Dwimmermount.  The first approach is to sell maps of the dungeon.  Dwimmermount is the most important place in the world, the Axis Mundi, and much of the specific knowledge of the place was lost 200 years ago.  Now that Dwimmermount is reopened in the campaign, scholars, mages, rival adventurers, and political leaders all have interest in the place; maps have become extremely valuable.  The book provides guidelines on the value of player maps based on the number of doors and rooms, and these scale with the depth of the dungeon level from hundreds to thousands of gold pieces in value.

I like this mechanic because it puts a dilemma on the players.  Do they sell a valuable map for enough gold (and experience) to level up, allowing them to delve deeper, or do they withhold the maps because they offer a competitive advantage?  In order for this choice to have consequences, though, it'll be important to have rival adventurers nipping at the player's heels, so there's a degree of risk or irritation in sharing a map.  Likewise, many of the levels have resources that are valuable to control, and sharing a map creates the risk that control will be lost.  Knowing that maps have such value, I'm going to have the bad guys try to steal a map at some point!

The other way the players can monetize exploration is by recovering the secret history of Dwimmermount.  There's a thorough discussion of the secret history, organized numerically, and these key facts can be gleaned throughout the dungeon from a range of sources.  There are over 80 of them!  Bringing evidence corroborating the secret history facts back to the surface allows the players to sell this information for exorbitant amounts of money when they accumulate enough facts to answer key questions about the world.

My players have just started learning bits of the secret history of Dwimmermount - it'll show up in game reports 7 and 8, when I catch up with posting them.  It's doing a number of interesting things.  First, it's making the dungeon back story mean something.  We (referees) frequently complain about having to read pages and pages of dull background that doesn't affect game play, or which the players have little chance of discovering.  Dwimmermount provides pages and pages of background information on this secret history - but in Dwimmermount, this stuff does affect game play, the players can directly benefit from it, and there are many interesting ways to learn pieces of the secret history throughout the dungeon.

The open question I had was whether the players would even care.  My rotating group has a few dads, some older kids in the 14-15 years range, and a few boys (and girl) 9-12.  The kids are motivated by looting and crushing monsters.  However, I put together a "secret history tracker", in checklist form, and a list of the major questions that could be discovered as they explore the dungeon - things like the nature of the gods, or the origin of the dwarves.  When they found their first cache of "secret history books", deciphered them back in town, and started checking off items on their 'history tracker', the light bulbs went off.  These are quest items they can search for through the dungeon, and having a checklist that shows all the nuggets of knowledge that are out there; it created a "gotta collect them all" mindset.  Now the kids are looting the dungeon, crushing monsters, and keeping their eyes open for secret history clues to fill out their checklist.

So what if your players blow off this aspect of the game and just stick to monsters and treasure?  The referee notes indicate there's about 550k in treasure in the dungeon.  Assuming the 25% ratio for monsters, there's another 135k or so in monster experience in the dungeon.  That's enough to put a 5-person party up to around 7 level  or so, if the group is pretty diligent about completing each level and doesn't leak a lot of experience to player death or henchmen.  The overall value of the secret history is also valued near 550k, putting the dungeon haul up to a lofty 1.2M if the party focuses on answering the big questions by collecting all the pieces of secret history!  A group that doesn't exploit "dungeon archaeology" in Dwimmermount is leaving a lot of loot and experience on the table.

Dwimmermount as Axis Mundi

This is the second article where I look at the 400+ page megadungeon  Dwimmermount, created by James Maiszewski, and developed and published by Autarch.  Part I:  Dwimmermount as Old School Tribute.

The Axis Mundi is the center of the world, the connection point between the numinous realms and the world of man.  Many myth systems include these places in their cosmogonies; consider mythic locales like Mount Olympus, or the Norse Yggdrasil, as Axis Mundi.  What's interesting as I reflect on Dwimmermount is that the dungeon itself is the Axis Mundi for the entire campaign world!

Dwimmermount is the place the ancients came to earth from across space and time, and created their first empire deep beneath the mountain.  From that seminal moment, every major shift in the campaign setting can be tied back to actions that either started or ended with a change in rulership of the mountain, and corresponding changes to the geography and architecture of the dungeon.  Telluria, the world of Dwimmemount, has seen the ascent of the gods, invasions from other planets, the rise and fall of empires, and a fractured period where competing city-states vie for power - all originating or ending with the dungeon.  Secrets related to each of the major ages lie buried throughout.  A trip through Dwimmermount is an archaeological journey through the history of Telluria.

Dwimmermount is inexorably tied to quintessence, and a substance called "Azoth", liquid quintessence, which can be used as a powerful reagent and source of magic power.  When the dungeon reopens at the beginning of a Dwimmermount campaign, it immediately becomes the most important place on the planet, regardless of how quickly the local polities become involved. The nature of the secrets buried (and imprisoned) in Dwimmermount represent an existential threat to every nearby locale and city.  Whatever comes next, as history unfolds on your version of Telluria, will be inexorably tied to what happens with your players in the dungeon and the choices you make as DM regarding the powerful resources there.

Dwimmermount as Axis Mundi puts the dungeon in a much different posture than an archetypal lair or forgotten ruin, where treasure alone is the primary aim, and pillaging the dungeon isn't going to imbalance the campaign world or bring nations to war.  Mastery of the dungeon of Dwimmermount represents power over the campaign and knowledge of campaign-altering secrets and truths.  I've read quite a few megadungeons through the years, and very few of them take this extreme approach of making the dungeon the actual secret history of the world.  Of course, if you expect the major activity of the campaign to be exploring a sprawling "tent pole" dungeon, it makes sense that the dungeon should affect the rise and fall of empires and the historical ages of man.

However, this posture of Dwimmermount brings with it a corresponding set of problems.  The history of the dungeon is so intertwined with the history of the world of Telluria, there's definitely additional burdens placed on the referee who would retrofit Dwimmermount into another campaign world.  Portability is not a strength. Telluria has specific positions on weighty campaign questions such as alignment, the nature of the gods, the astral plane, the origins of elves and dwarves, and the sources of magic.  I happen to really like Dwimmermount's answers, but the campaign supports a particular flavor of pulp fantasy that incorporates elements of science fantasy as the campaign proceeds.

Perhaps a larger problem is that the wider world of Telluria doesn't exist… the referee is left to come up with his own interpretation.  The environs of Dwimmermount are described through an area hex map (a regional map) which covers a few nearby settlements and cities, but many of the principal non-player actors hail from far off empires and distant lands.  If the campaign stays laser focused on the dungeon and nearby city, there's probably enough there, but it's likely you'll need to take a broader view of the world and consider sketching a continent map that shows geographic and political relationships.  A Dwimmermount campaign could easily see armies on the move as the deepest levels of the dungeon get breached by players.

Folks have recommended Blackmarsh as a setting to retrofit for Dwimmermount, and I also saw someone place their version in Mystara.  I've grabbed a free copy of Blackmarsh from RPG Now to take a look.  The Wilderlands of High Fantasy (a 1970's setting from Judge's Guild) could be a good fit as well.

I've tried to stay light on specific spoilers here, assuming that both referees and players could be readers.  I'm greatly enjoying Dwimmermount (and have run 4 sessions already with my players) but did want to warn those who follow what to expect.  I'll probably end up sketching my own version of Telluria in the very near future.

Dwimmermount offers the chance for players to care about the ancient history of the campaign world, and rewards an approach that values knowledge - I think that's the next topic to discuss as we build towards a full review.

Dwimmermount's Setting as Old School Tribute

As I continue to run a series of pick-up games in Dwimmermount, I'm going to explore aspects of the setting and dungeon and defend why it's a key OSR creation and model.

The elements that fixed my commitment to reading the voluminous Dwimmermount were the clear lines of inspiration between the setting, Appendix  N literature, and D&D's earliest settings.  Regarding Appendix N, I started this blog years ago with a journey through the list of Appendix N literature.  (If you're a younger gamer, Appendix N refers to a list of inspirational reading, 1979 and earlier, presented by Gary Gygax in the original AD&D Dungeon Master's Guide).  Fantasy shifted in the 1980's with the resurgence of Tolkien's popularity - the genre became dominated by multi-part epic quests, "The Sword of Shannara" effect, incarnated in series like Shannara, Thomas Covenant, Wheel of Time, and so on.  It wasn't until I started devouring earlier fantasy that I understood how the picaresque quality of D&D reflected earlier literary sentiments.

So while TSR and WOTC D&D moved on to principally focus on "adventure path" style gaming that mirrored the shifts in film and literature, the OSR movement developed retro clones and looked to the past, to recreate the energy and wonder that leaps off the page when you read old accounts of the hobby from the 1970's.  It's not all about nostalgia, however; the earlier approaches to running and presenting the game are stylistically different.  Dwimmermount is a modern attempt at recreating a 1970's style setting, dungeon, and play experience.

For now, we are focused on setting.  There are many elements that jump out as throw-back fantasy.  The planetary cosmology, with emphasis on space as a gaseous aether, and the access to nearby planetary realms, is a theme that flows through authors like Lovecraft, Dunsany, and Burroughs.  The green-skinned Amazonian women of Kythirea and red-skinned Eld of Aeron are reminiscent of Jon Carter, while the moon-beasts feature in Lovecraft and Dunsany.  (And of course, I can't help but think of that green-skinned woman from 1960's Stark Trek, you know the one).  The strong Law versus Chaos axis that echoes throughout the dungeon is heavily inspired by Moorcock and Poul Anderson, while the demon lords (particularly Arach-Nacha and the toad-like Tsath-Dagon) are direct homages to Clark Ashton Smith.

Although there were great empires in the past, the men of the present-day setting of Dwimmermount rule isolated City-States.  They hold exotic titles like Despot, or Exarchate, rather than Medieval Kings or Duke, immediately evoking a sense of the decadent and autocratic rulers in the Fritz Leiber's Lankhmar series, or the petty rulers that populate the background of Howard's Hyborian stories.  It's also a clear tribute to one of the earliest and beloved settings for D&D in the 1970's, The Wilderlands of High Fantasy, which was ruled by various City-States and their Overlords, which in turn was hearkening back to earlier styles of fantasy.

Finally, the setting blends a significant amount of 'science fantasy' into the mix.  As characters plumb the depths of Dwimmermount, and unearth more and more of the setting's backstory at the same time, they are put into contact with machines and scientific wonders of the earlier ages (including the gods themselves).  Early D&D settings like the Wilderlands gladly mixed science fantasy into the D&D genre, drawing inspiration from the pulp fantasy authors of the 1930's that freely blended themes themselves.  The principal author I'm thinking of here is Abraham Merrit; the two pieces I've read are "The Face in the Abyss" and "The Moon Pool" (And for film analogs, check out some evocative 1930's movies like "She" or "Lost Horizon").  James calls out his appreciation for AE Merritt in the introduction, even putting a "moon pool" on the first level of Dwimmermount as a direct reference.  Merritt's themes involve people of the present time discovering more advanced lost races, either in forgotten ruins or a hidden society beneath the earth, and getting embroiled in an ages-old conflict.  Dwimmermount incorporates these themes flawlessly with the Terrim and the City of the Ancients deep beneath the dungeons.

I'm sure there are literary references I'm omitting or flat-out missed.  James was extremely well-read on the pulps and incorporated many of the themes into his work; it's hard not to admire the degree to which he emulates, borrows, steals, and recreates themes from early fantasy and the pulps in providing a backdrop for Dwimmermount - almost to the point of affectation!  If you view Dwimmermount as just a big dumb dungeon, you're missing out on it as a vehicle to transport you and your players to D&D's earliest settings, literary roots, and styles of play.

I loved the Wilderlands; my one wish for Dwimmermount's setting is that it included a larger sketch of the world, showing the homelands of the Thulians, the Volmarians, or the mysterious east and its Kingdom of the Priest-King.

Visiting Dwimmermount for Christmas

Arise from the dead, sleeping blog; we have things to do.   I have a couple of weeks break over the holidays, and I'm starting a new game.  I've finally taken the weighty, hardbound version of Dwimmermount off the shelf and plumbed it's storied depths to run at the table.

I consciously avoided Dwimmermount after its kickstarter; the affair descended into a messy drama, and when I got the book after an interminable period, I had mixed feelings about the process.  Quite a bit of time has since passed then, and curiosity got the better of me.  Now, after having read the book cover to cover, and kicking off an actual-play adventure there, I state that Dwimmermount is amazing.  Over the course of the next few blog posts, I'll take a deeper look at Dwimmermount and why it's one of the pivotal books in the OSR movement.

But I do need to step back and revisit some points about the publication's history to put my trepidations into context.  There's a deep irony in the publication of Dwimmermount. The source campaign was heavily featured on the blog Grognardia, which catalogued James Maliszewski's exploration of early Dungeons & Dragons and the roots of the RPG hobby.  His blog was a good read, and immensely popular.  James used Dwimmermount to explore the modes of play espoused by Gary Gygax and embodied in Gary's legendary mega dungeon, Castle Greyhawk.

Castle Greyhawk has never seen print.  It was a living, breathing dungeon created over many years and innumerable game sessions, a collection of scant notes, worn maps, and hazy recollections of the author.  As fans, we hounded Gary for decades to commit Castle Greyhawk to a publication.  There have been heroic fan versions, but for various reasons, Gary took the original with him to his grave.

After some years of running his popular Dwimmermount game (and reporting it on his blog), James launched one of the most successful OSR kickstarter campaigns I can recall, to fund a print version of Dwimmermount.  The gentlemen over at Autarch, publishers of Adventurer, Conqueror, King (ACKS), had recently entered OSR publishing with their successful launch of ACKS, and they partnered with James to deliver it.

In a bizarre twist of history repeating itself, the project soon got into trouble.  The effort of turning scant notes, worn maps, and the author's hazy memories, into a fully realized, printed megadungeon, turned out to be just as daunting for James as it had for Gary Gygax.  James withdrew from the project, and Autarch, which had other considerations in play, such as their reputation as a new publisher, and a bevy of planned products, carried on with the commitment to the backers.  The final publication of Dimmermount is a blend of James' original campaign and the embellishments added by Autarch to build out the raw notes, remediate gaps, and reconcile inconsistencies.

The final product is a triumph.  But how do we assign credit and authorship?  I'm perplexed by the ambiguities related to the creative process and the finished work.  Is a creation diminished if the author fails to complete the piece and a second author, or even a third, comes along to see it through?  I'm sure many projects are collective efforts and we are none the wiser for having been spared the details on "how the sausage was made"; in the gaming space, this project stands out because of the public way we came to know the visionary creator withdrew, the sordid response by a minority of fans, and how the remaining team stalwartly carried on.  The mixed pedigree of the product has forced me to reflect on the permutations of collaborative art.  Actually, working the discussion out as I was writing this brought me to an epiphany: is it perhaps silly to get caught up on authorship concerns and pedigree on the eve of "Star Wars Day"?  I'm taking the family to see the new movie tomorrow.  It's not like we even considered looking askance at the work of Disney or JJ Abrams because George Lucas is out of the picture; in fact I'm thankful there will be no Jar Jar Binks.  (Don't let me down, JJ Abrams - I better not see Gungans).

This preamble to Dwimmermount is waxing long.  I'm very fond of the book, and as you check back over the next few weeks, I'll be sharing my reasons for praising it highly.  We'll look at the world of Dwimmermount, its role as Axis Mundi, how it embodies various old school ideals, and then take a look at the dungeons themselves.

To close this bit of blog necromancy, I'll offer a brief account on where I've been:  I started a demanding master's program this past year, a 16 month grind calculated to launch me on that next career arc.  Juggling family, 3 kids, a challenging corporate gig, and a master's program at an Ivy league school has put a serious crimp on creative output and gaming.  I've been keeping up with some blogs, I ran some 5E over the summer, but I've mainly shifted into a consumer of gaming content rather than developing stuff whole cloth for my home games.  That won't change for another year, but I do expect to write about gaming and keep up with the news in OSR-land.  Glad to see so many of you are soldiering on while this place has been dark.