How Poe Can Help Us Create an Impressive Dungeon
If the reader will grant me the following metaphor as a starting point, we may be able to use techniques from Edgar Allan Poe’s The Philosophy of Composition as an aid in creating an exciting and memorable role playing experience. The metaphor is this: if we view a role playing campaign as a novel, series of novels, or an epic poem, then a dungeon would be a short story or lyric poem.
Of course, the dungeon need not be an actual dungeon, but any singular, unified experience in the course of a campaign. For our purposes, the dungeon can be any quest that has a complete arc, with a beginning and an end, one location, one tone or mood, one climax, and one impression which the maker intends to leave upon the players.
The purpose of this essay is to explore Poe’s steps as outlined in The Philosophy, to see how each step applies to creating a dungeon, and determine where, if at all, the steps should be altered to better fit our task. [In a further work, I will apply this technique to a dungeon of my own creation.] This narrative approach to creating a dungeon will (hopefully) add to the players’ satisfaction of deciphering, of winning, of finishing. It will give them ideas to consider and enjoy beyond the mechanics of the game.
All quotations are from The Raven and The Philosophy of Composition, 2017, Project Gutenberg.
I. Write Backwards
It is only with the dénouement constantly in view that we can give a plot its indispensable air of consequence.
The word dénouement is French for “an untying.” This metaphor is fitting for our dungeon in several ways, as the narrative experience can be likened to the gradual unraveling or destroying of a knot. We begin our experience facing something taut and impregnable, but gradually untangle it, through force, guile, or whatever other means available. But our view as creators must never vary from the eventual untying.
Poe accomplishes this task by way of repetitive refrains and imagery, contributing to
the “unity of effect” desired. Our dungeon can use these very techniques: a word or
phrase echoed by denizens of the dungeon, praising its ruler or deity; a color scheme
or object that suffuses the dungeon; or an odor or acoustic effect experienced by the
party. But also, in the realm of role playing, the party can encounter singular types of
traps or technology; magic from a unifying school or domain, no matter how incidental;
or creatures with a specific relation to each other, whether it be political, biological, or
artificial.
Beyond sustained reminders of our final objective, Poe asks us to step beyond “the
limits of the real” by use of “complexity, or, more properly, adaptation, and…some
amount of suggestiveness—some under-current, however indefinite, of meaning”. By employing literary techniques, such as foreshadowing and metaphor, we prompt our audience, or our players, into an anticipatory mood, in which they will simultaneously fear and desire the climactic moment.
II. How long is a sitting?
If two sittings be required, the affairs of the world interfere, and everything like totality is at once destroyed.
Authoring mostly short stories and lyric poems, Poe expected his readers to consume each of his works in their entirety in one sitting, fearing that the intensity of the work would be blunted by greater length or multiple sessions. He did add “one proviso—that a certain degree of duration is absolutely requisite for the production of any effect at all.”
As dungeon masters, we must depart from Poe’s literal instructions, but not their spirit. In an ideal (gaming) world, sessions would begin and end on appropriately dramatic notes. But we know from experience that this isn’t always possible. Our games often begin and end in medias res, if not in flagrante delicto. However, our advantage over Poe is that our games are living, changing things, largely created and altered in the moment. A practiced DM can often lead a session toward a logical end, an exciting cliffhanger, or a mystery to be contemplated until the next gathering. This does not negate the usefulness of Poe’s technique when creating our dungeon. What follows are a few ways to maintain unity throughout our dungeon.
First, and most obvious, is to fashion our dungeon as a one-shot. With practice, we can create a singular experience that lasts for an amount of time that falls within the constraints of a single session. One of the ways to think of our creation is as a “two-hour” or “four-hour” dungeon. Closer to a poem than a short story, we can concentrate on one central character, transition, or task, and let sufficient details ramify from that central theme in order to elucidate its importance, but no more than is necessary. Knowing that our players will largely write the words to this poem, we must create a structure that allows for just enough improvisation to further the main objective. Our repetitive refrains and imagery can serve players as a reminder of what that objective is.
Second, we can separate our adventure into discreet vignettes. Think of each section as a stanza, integral to the whole, but enjoyable and distinct on its own. That way, if our players take multiple sessions to complete the dungeon, they are left with a feeling of satisfaction at the end of each session, but will be reminded of the overarching theme upon returning due to the relationships between each section.
Finally, we can create a dungeon that must be visited and revisited. For example, some key or artifact that exists outside of the dungeon proper may be required to advance from one section to the next. Or an obstacle that is too powerful or complex may present itself, forcing the players to marshal resources before returning and advancing. In order to retain our unity of effect, we can use Poe’s tools to remind our players of the tone, the theme, and the dénouement of our dungeon. For instance, if our adventure explores themes of melancholy, the party may need to acquire an artifact that belonged to the dead lover of the master of the dungeon. Or, if our theme is revenge, the party may need to solicit the help of a group that specializes in a type of magic or technology which was developed specifically to oppose the mistress of the dungeon, their longtime foe. In addition, the side quest to be done before returning can be tailored to maintain the mood and theme of our adventure.
III. Getting Them in the Mood
Of the innumerable effects, or impressions, of which the heart, the intellect, or (more generally) the soul is susceptible, what one shall I, on the present occasion, select?
As mentioned above, one of our goals in creating a dungeon with this method is to establish a singular mood. Poe was a master of establishing mood, which accounts for the innumerable role playing adventures that have been adapted from his works. But we need not limit ourselves to the stereotypical moods of his work: horror, regret, loss, and death. Poe himself concedes “That pleasure which is at once the most intense, the most elevating, and the most pure, is, I
"Subliminal telling of the story throughout the dungeon will limit the amount of summary required before the climax."
believe, found in the contemplation of the beautiful.” His goal is to “designate Beauty as the province of the poem,” with Beauty being the thing that satisfies the soul, as opposed to Truth, which satisfies the intellect, and Passion, which satisfies the heart.
However, for our purposes, it seems that all of these effects, as he puts them, can be relevant to creating an impressive dungeon. Our players, depending on the race, occupation, or particular desires of their characters, may seek to satisfy all of these provinces of their nature. What is important for this method is to limit the scope of our dungeon to one of these effects. A dungeon may be a bastion of beauty and a compendium of truth, but these may be contributors to the base passion of its denizen, which is greed. There is a certain beauty to science, even a zeal for its contributions toward the well-being of all creatures, but a genetic laboratory could ultimately be a symbol of our pursuit of truth for its own sake.
Whatever the mood of our dungeon, it is important to use our tools to enhance that feeling in our players. Each repeated motif should suit the mood; each encounter should reinforce the mood; and our climax should be the ultimate catharsis of that mood. This can provide for a climax, or anticlimax, that is not just a boss fight, but the resolution of a story.
In addition, this subliminal telling of the story throughout the dungeon will limit the amount of summary (monologuing) required before the climax, since the characters, through our succinct storytelling, should already be getting a clear idea of what is at stake.
IV. The Three Ls of Dungeon Building
A close circumscription of space…has the force of a frame to a picture.
As an avid tabletop crafter and terrain builder, I was tempted to include this section earlier. I believe that there
are times when a piece of terrain, a simple room or a well-crafted object, can inspire in the dungeon creator
an entire plot, theme, and apotheosis. I would never discourage this method, but for the sake of our present
endeavor, I will limit this section to discussing the importance of choosing a location for a dungeon already
created using the methods above.
Let us, then, stress the three Ms of dungeon location - mood, mood, mood. Our hilltop stronghold should
signify its strength: fashioned from stone and iron, protected by a forest of oaks, populated with brawny thugs,
accessed only by one impenetrable door. Our palace of excess should be replete with rococo ornamentation,
the best technology available, and gratuitous displays of the largesse, or rapacity, of its mistress.
Further, if this dungeon is part of a larger campaign, its location within the campaign world will lend a certain
mood. An enclave of ascetic monks will stand out in stark contrast to the bustling port city where it is located,
helping to explain the aloofness, or the envy, or the pity of its leader. Conversely, a commune of artists might
be the object of ridicule and slander within a militaristic or capitalistic society, paving the way for its founder
to be a disenchanted former member of the Queen’s royal guard.
As always, bear in mind that the mood of the dungeon should be informed by the location, not the reverse. With worlds to choose from, we can find many suitable locales to enhance the unity of effect desired.
V. The Unraveling
This revolution of thought, or fancy, … is intended to … bring the mind into a proper frame for the denouement- which is now brought about as rapidly and as directly as possible.
So, of the “innumerable effects” we wish to impart, which have we selected? As dungeon creators, we should already have answered this question. We already know whether we intend to leave our players with a sense of longing, pride, loss, conquest, confusion, or elation. We have created each aspect of our dungeon to enhance the effect we want our players to experience. But how do we unravel our plot in a satisfying way? The good news is that we have already done most of the work.
By paying close attention to the duration, mood, and setting of our dungeon, always keeping in mind the final unified effect we are attempting to convey, we have set up the skeleton of an adventure, to which the DM and players will then add the tissue. How our dungeon and its inhabitants react to players will be informed by the dénouement we have already decided upon. In this sense, the dénouement, though it is the end of the story, is effectively the initial germ from which the story grows. Though it is the climax of the experience of the dungeon, it is merely the lodestar for the creation of that dungeon. It is the ultimate consequence of our design, but our real work lies in creating cohesive details which serve to establish and explain that consequence. This cohesion, coupled with a prepared dungeon master and a willing party, should lead to an impressive dungeon.
And the rest is rust and stardust.
Eco's Chamber
