D&D Adventure Planner

If you are ready to design your first RPG adventure, or learn how to improve the adventures
you've already got, you've come to the right place. The "Adventure Builder" will cover all the
bases, from hooks to background to traps and treasures.
This time out, we'll cover the foundation you need to build a great adventure. It's not the
background, the stat blocks, or even the main villain. It's monster selection, and figuring out the
size and style of the adventure.
How Big is Your Design?
A common rule of thumb among the Wizards of the Coast design staff is that a typical group of
adventurers will level up after about 13 successful encounters of the party's encounter level (EL).
That's a great number to work from, especially if you want to design a large adventure that spans
multiple levels.
In an adventure with dozens of encounters, the party will level up half-way through. Since the
party will be tougher and more capable from that point on, the adventure you've planned for
them needs too scale up as well. It's better to scale up the second half of the adventure
appropriately, but if you don't want the PCs to level up midway through your epic you can
prevent it by keeping your number of encounters small or by lowering their EL (to reduce the XP
per encounter).
At the same time, just because you map an encounter doesn't mean that it will be played. Some
areas are never explored, after all, and not every encounter leads to combat (some are resolved or
defeated through stealth, magic, bribery, or roleplaying). So if you do want the PCs to level up
after your adventure then you'll need more than 13 party-level encounters to provide enough
options and fallbacks if the party doesn't follow the expected path.
So, not too many encounters and not too few. As a general idea, you want to prepare about 20 to
25 encounters for your party per level of advancement. If you prefer mostly lower EL
encounters, perhaps closer to 25 to 30. If you run marathon play sessions every weekend, you
might want to prepare 40 to 50 encounters ahead of time, and assume the second half will be at a
higher level. If you run short game sessions, you'll want to make sure that the adventure breaks
into small sections of 3 or 4 encounters with a satisfying conclusion to each.
Now you know how many encounters you should prepare. What should be in those encounters?
And what mistakes should you watch out for?
Common design mistakes

There are four fairly common errors in beginning adventure design. When I worked on Dungeon
magazine I saw them constantly, and the errors haven't changed.
1) too much useless backstory
2) slow starts
3) random encounters
4) too many encounters
Each of these is easy to fix. Here's how you do it.
Simple Backstory: Most DMs and designers hate to hear it, but much of the time lavished on
history and background is wasted energy. Players never find out who dug the tomb, how the
wizard was betrayed by her apprentice, or why the assassin guild changed sides and disappeared.
Working on backstory doesn't improve the gameplay experience for anyone but the bards and
scholars obsessed with legends or lore. Unless it connects directly to action in the current
timeframe (and the PCs have a way of learning it), skip the involved history. Save that for
sourcebooks.
This is not to say cut it all. Details of which faction can be turned against another, which guard
might take a bribe, or what the villain ultimately plans to do if the party doesn't stop him are all
appropriate. Make sure your backstory is recent and relevant; avoid anything that starts
"Thousands of years ago..."
Start the Action Quickly: When players arrive at the game, they are looking to roll some dice.
You can start the action immediately and draw the players away from pizza and other distractions
by giving them what they want: a short, simple combat encounter to start off the game. Ideally,
the encounter is pitched at an encounter level (EL) no more than one level above or below the
party's level.
The best of the "start in midstream" kick-offs are aimed at all the PCs when they are together,
and raise questions that lead the party to the adventure hook. For instance, the party might see
raiders attacking an inn where they had planned to spend the night -- survivors of the attack tell
the party about the black knight who leads them. Or a teleporting extraplanar threat might appear
during broad daylight and accuse a cleric of breaking his vows -- and threaten to sacrifice his
corrupt church elders to a greater power. Where these encounters go ultimately isn't the most
important thing: they can be a little tangential to the plot, as long as they get the party thinking of
the right sort of threat.
I'll discuss this in more detail next time in "Adventure Hooks.".

Don't Be Random: Time is precious, so be careful how many tangents and red herrings you
include in your design. In particular, random encounters might be fun, or can be useful to get a
dawdling party going, or to work off that frustration players sometimes get where they just need
to have their characters kill something, but they don't usually make your adventure any better. If
they are tied into the core adventure, then they shouldn't be random at all; those clues should be
built in to the design. If they aren't tied in to the adventure core, then you are just wasting game
time on an encounter that doesn't advance the mission or the story goals for you or your players.
Trim Excess Encounters: If you create too many encounters and you don't play every day,
players forget what their mission was, or start to lose hope of making progress. They wind up
grinding through so many nuisance encounters that they lose sight of the important clues, or they
don't talk to the important NPC, or they don't search the critical room for documents -- because
they are too busy grinding through combats. If the encounters are just there to fill up space on a
map, they might as well be random. Leave some rooms empty to speed up play.
Encounter Selection: Fitting Together a Cast
The real challenge is balancing encounters to present a variety of challenges for every member of
the party. The adventure, after all, is a chance for the heroes to triumph over opposition (or fail
miserably and go home).
Selecting for a Coherent Look and Feel
Story, setting, and immersion are all easier to pull off if your monsters fit a theme. That theme
might be "united tribes of humanoids" or it might be "desert raiders", but either way it cuts out
many choices. Avoid the kitchen sink approach of just taking creatures that match the party level.
Instead, make good use of the EL chart in the Dungeon Master's Guide (page 49) to create
encounters of small groups, pairs of monsters, and single creatures.
In particular, consider linked encounters for your cast. A guard dog or a sentry might be a much
lower EL encounter from a combat perspective -- but if the party fails to use a silence spell or a
sneak attack to take it out quickly then it could make later encounters more difficult.
Balancing by EL and by Class
The Dungeon Master's Guide offers direct advice on how many easy, challenging, very difficult,
and overwhelming encounters a typical adventure should contain (see page 49). Hint: not many
overwhelming encounters.
While this breakdown is good advice, it's not complete. You'll want to be sure that your 20 or 25
encounters include encounter variety by class as well as by EL. That is, make sure to include
each of the following types of encounters, to give every class and every player a chance to shine.

1) Two Skill Encounters: These are creatures or obstacles that can be defeated by stealth or
skill, such as guards, castle walls, cliffs, informants, or low-hp creatures that can fall to a single
sneak attack.
2) Four Pure Combats: You need some no-negotiation, straight-up combats that play to the
fighter classes. Think orcs, wolves, ogres, giants -- or dragons. Consider tactics first here:
ambushes, charge, bull-rush, something to make it more than just attack rolls and damage rolls.
3) Two Magical Challenges: Include two magical challenges that require a knock, a fireball, or
whatever other strengths your arcane spellcasters have. They might be lore-based challenges,
such as knowing the weaknesses of an extraplanar creature, or they might require the use of
Concentration or Spellcraft to manipulate a magical object or unravel a mysterious warding.
4) One Divine Challenge: The divine caster in the party is more than just a medic, so give him
or her something to do with at least one undead turning, Knowledge (Religion), or natureknowledge encounter (if your divine caster is a druid).
5) One Puzzle or Trap: This could be as simple as finding the key to a tough lock, deciphering
an ancient script, or finding a secret door with Search, but you should include traps and puzzles
for your party to solve. If the party doesn't have a rogue in it, use Knowledge skill checks as a
substitute.
6) Two Roleplaying Encounters: Social skills play an important part of the game too, and bards
don't like to just sit and do their stuff in the background. Provide at least two roleplaying
encounters that can be defeated by the right social skills, bribes, exchange of services, or clever
conversation. Examples include a scholar with a clue that the party needs to bypass some
defenses or wardings, or a devil who will ally with them against a common foe.
7) One Mook Encounter: This should be against foes of at least 2 CR less than the party, and
ideally 3 or 4 less. Think kobolds, bandits, skeletons, wild animals, or any other group of many
foes that play to Cleave and area-effect spells. It's fun to see heroes cutting a swath through
hordes of foes.
8) One Polder: "Polder" is a Dutch word describing land reclaimed from the sea, but here it's a
more general term. As described in detail in Dungeon 135, polders are safe havens for
adventurers, places where the party can regain strength. Think Rivendell in Lord of the Rings.
Your polder could be a xenophobic elven tree city, a magical rope that generates rope trick spells
as a charged item, a bound archon who wards a treasure, or a dwarven merchant caravan. If the
party wishes, they can heal up to full strength and level up.

9) One Bigger Fish: To keep the blood flowing, you should have one overwhelming encounter
that the party can't handle without serious risk of a total party kill. This could turn into a
roleplaying bit of Diplomacy, a chase, or a stealth challenge, depending on how the party handles
it -- but they should see that not every encounter in every adventure should be fought.
10) Big Finish: A grand finale encounter with all the trimmings: villain, minions, and a room or
terrain that provides interesting combat options.
That list of recommended encounter types covers 17 encounters out of the 20 to 25 in your
adventure, but you could easily double up on any of those categories. For example, if you know
that the players like intense combat you could set up the remaining encounters as pure combats.
If you know that your arcane caster is itching for a magical duel -- or that the rogue will always
try reconnaissance first -- prepare those kinds of encounters.
Tailoring an adventure to show the heroes in the best light means more fun for everyone. Making
an adventure that plays to the party's weakness might be fun for you, but will only frustrate your
players. Don't take away their spells, sneak attacks, or combat items very often -- those are the
tools of heroism and the key to fun. Instead, give those strong points a challenge and a chance to
shine.
To further tailor an adventure, consider some special encounter types if you have, say, a mounted
knight, an archer, a monk, or a paladin in the group.
1) A mounted encounter
2) A ranged attack encounter
3) A chase (see Dungeon Master's Guide II page 57 for chase rules), either hunting or being
pursued.
4) A single-combat encounter or challenge from an honorable foe
5) Another class-specific encounter, such as one that requires bardic song, barbarian tracking, or
fighting a ranger's favored enemy.
Conclusion
Adventures work if they are fun and easy to play, and give every kind of hero a chance to shine
in different encounter styles. The most important part of design isn't the details of a stat block,
but the type and variety of opponents and encounters.

Setting the Hook

Compare the following two starts to an adventure:
"You meet a guy in a bar and he tells you about a dungeon outside town."
"During the midnight watch, someone shoots an arrow into your camp. There's a note attached,
written in Elvish."
One is old news, and won't get much of a welcome from players. The other likely will have them
asking questions and being drawn into *whatever* follows that arrow: a threat? an offer of
parley? an alliance? Regardless, it immediately launches the action and the adventure.
The adventure hook is what kicks off the action, and what brings the players into the game. In
fiction, it would be called the "inciting incident." Without a strong hook, your adventure becomes
a matter of players going through the motions dutifully because "that's where the adventure is
this week." With a strong hook, the PCs will be curious and will start planning their actions,
aggressively moving the game forward for you. A weak hook means that you'll have to push the
action forward with big "Adventure Here" signs.
Pick a Motive
There is no one perfect hook, just as there is no perfect lure in fishing. Different fish respond to
different flies, jigs, and worms; different groups and even each different player responds best to
different rewards and motives. Playing with a group will give you an idea of whether a particular

player or character is likely to respond to the pleading penniless merchant, the scholar with a
mystery, or the rich landowner offering rich land.
The six most common motives are listed here, with a typical NPC comment and sample hooks.
1) Curiosity: "No one knows what's down there. It's never been explored." This hook works
very well for certain players who love the unknown. Lost cities, ancient tombs, hidden mountain
valleys, deadly fey forests, maps to Atlantis, all fall into this category.
2)Fear/Survival: "If you don't stop the raiders at the oasis, we'll all die!" The beauty of this hook
is its immediacy. There's a threat, and the heroes have a chance to shine. It doesn't work if it's
overplayed, such as telling low-level PCs to fight a demon lord or the like. Typical examples
include raiding giants, a swarm of formians or other insects, aboleth or drow slavers, or the
clichd invasion from another plane.
3) Greed: This is the classic hook for simple adventures. "Loot that tomb, and you'll buy able to
buy all the magic and supplies you'll ever want!" This hook usually works, but it's a lazy way to
start an adventure for most designers. To make it more memorable, at least try to make the
treasure under discussion more interesting than gold. This motive also includes wages ("I'll pay
you to do this job for me"), although wages are probably the worst of motives for real heroes.
Money is useful, but boring. Real heroes just want it to fund their next set of heroics. Typical
examples of this hook include a mysterious guide to the city of gold, a long-lost dragon hoard, an
unopened tomb of mage-kings, or looting rich princes of the Church. You might also consider an
emperor's patronage, a gift from a magic ringmaker's workshop, or even the tried-and-true
promise of pirate gold.
4) Heroism: Some people want to be noticed and admired; others just want to do the right thing.
For heroes, it's usually about being remembered for their deeds. "Bards will sing of your glory if
you just hold the pass for a day." This sort of hook works best for parties that care about what
their peers think of them, but it doesn't really work for rogues and tricksters. Typical examples
include saving the weak from slavers, holding a fort, bridge or pass against a mob, tournaments
of skill, and single combats to the death. This hook type is amazing for certain characters who
are looking for a blaze of glory -- you should make sure that a spectacularly good death against
swarms of unrelenting evil is available for those who seek it.
5) Loyalty, honor and duty: "The dwarven ancestors smile on those who escort the caravan
through the mines." Sometimes, a race, class, or prestige class comes with some underlying
assumptions about a code of conduct. You can exploit this to ask a monk to undertake a mission
for his sensei, a paladin for his church, or a dwarf for his clan and chieftain. Players can, of
course, refuse such quests, but they usually don't, especially if the mission is one their character
naturally gravitates toward. The loyal PC pulls everyone else along in their wake. Typical

examples include carrying sacred scrolls to a new temple, a pilgrimage, lifting the siege of a clan
holding, restoring a bride's honor, or proving the innocence of a relative.
6) Revenge: "They killed your brother and stole your father's sword!" This is best used in a longrunning campaign with a recurring villain, and can be neatly connected to existing plot threads.
It's even more effective if the crime that calls out for revenge happened when the affected
characters were on watch, or in charge. Typical examples include vendettas and revenge killings,
kidnappings, capturing a criminal, stealing back the stolen goods or idols, horse or pegasus
rustling, and arson.
Make It Personal
The best hooks tie in to the existing characters, such as hinting at a holy sword for a paladin, at
an ancient lost invocation for a warlock, or at a chance to shine in the eyes of a high priest and
congregation for a cleric. If any players have a character background that describes their friends,
mentors, or family, you can use that background to make a hook more powerful -- by threatening
the character's nearest and dearest. Be ruthless, too -- if the party doesn't act, the threatened
danger happens.
The hook needs to offer something to the players who are most likely to seize the day and go for
it. If your party leader is playing a halfling thief, greed is the right path. If the party leader is a
paladin, noble quests and heroism. If you don't know what type of adventure the players want
most, ask. They'll be happy to tell you.
You can also combine hooks, to suit more than one player's strongest motives. If a paladin and a
greedy halfing are the party leaders, you might try "You must destroy the evil temple to lay the
spirits to rest -- and their treasury is rumored to be very rich indeed."
Make It Concrete and Tough to Refuse
You want your hooks to be specific, and you want them to be very hard to turn down. Vague,
overused, or clichd hooks don't interest players because they have heard them before. Some
overused hooks that lack compelling detail include:Kidnapped princesses and children

Meeting a stranger in a tavern

Requests from the mayor or head villager

Evil insane wizards

Sudden invasions of squicky evil things: undead, demons, whatever

Finding the map to a dungeon

The hooks that work best are often those that don't REQUIRE the party to respond. Instead, they
play to the character's status, power, or skill -- they involve some flattery. Some NPC thinks the
heroes, no matter how low their experience level, are worthy of respect, people that will step up
in a pinch: in a word, heroes. Their requests or pitch make it clear that they think the PCs are
competent and valuable allies. For example:A merchant asks a big favor from an old family
friend

A dwarf, elf, half-orc, or barbarian tribe or clan asks whether the PC can escort a clan
troublemaker into exile. Nobody says no to family.

A gnome claims he has a few coins from a long-lost dragon hoard

A secret message is smuggled to the party from an innocent prisoner

A scholar asks for advice, or help collecting "just a few botanical samples" from his
wizard, druid, or bard friend.

A paladin asks the party's warriors to help judge a tournament (where a coup is planned)

What the second set of hooks has in common is a concrete task or a mystery that encourages
further exploration, without falling back on fantasy staples that are worn pretty thin. People
respond well to requests for help, to greed, to a chance to win praise or notice, and to the new
and unusual. They respond badly to demands, to repetition, and to random desperation.
Stacking Hooks
The first hook isn't necessarily the last hook. In fact, the first hook may be nothing but a way to
get the action started. Once the adventure is underway, the PCs may soon learn that what they
thought was a bit of tomb-looting can become a matter of survival because they have unleashed a
new danger. The effort to escort a dwarven caravan from mines to foundries out of loyalty may
become a revenge adventure once it's clear that the foundry has been raided and the clan
chieftain killed by giants.
Why do I call these hooks rather than plot twists? Because the second hook is available for those
times when the party decides to ignore the first one. If they say "Oh, I'll send my henchman on
escort duty", that henchman can return from the mission with the news of the dead clan chieftain
-- which then becomes the new hook. If that doesn't get the dwarven hero involved, nothing will.
Hooks That Fail
Some hooks just don't attract any interest from the players. They ignore the guy in the bar. They
don't want to help a group of elves because their new member is a dwarf. They decide to follow
up some other clue from a prior adventure, or they're just not drawn in by the shiny bauble you
present to them.
Don't try to force it. Let it go.

Players know when you are pushing them in a certain direction. If the hook's really no good, they
resent being pushed into it. If the hook you dreamed up doesn't work, it's better in the long run to
let the party ignore it.
But what about the game? If you really want the PCs to choose the adventure you planned, then
you need a better hook for it. Make one up and keep the play moving. On the other hand, if you
feel comfortable winging it, run a different adventure using existing villains or a simple mission
such as travel from point A to point B. The players may find a clue or treasure along the way that
leads them back to the main adventure --- possibly without knowing that they're just taking a
longer route to it. Or you may find that the hook you make up on the spot intrigues you too -- and
that's what you prepare for the next week's session.
Be a Ham
Part of a successful hook is just in how you present it. Be a ham; get in touch with your inner
circus ringmaster. Don't read a dry lump of text in your everyday tone; try a deeper voice or
mimic a gruff dwarven accent, gesture a little around the table, throw down a handful of golden
chocolate coins from the candy aisle. Players will respond to your enthusiasm with their own.
Conclusion
Most adventures have several hooks written into them to begin with. Knowing which one will
work for any given audience helps you ensure that the action starts off strong and that the players
keep the action rolling.

"It's just a talk encounter. Send the bard to make nice."

If that's the attitude of your gaming group, you may not be designing your roleplaying
encounters correctly. What they should be saying is "Oh no, it's a talk encounter. Buff the bard
with eagle's splendor, quick!"
Wait, did I say "design your roleplaying encounters"? Sure I did. Just because some encounters
don't need stat blocks doesn't mean that they don't need preparation and careful design. If
anything, roleplaying encounters are more demanding, because you have to allow for more

options than just combat. Preparing a satisfying roleplaying encounter requires some deeper
thought about how your players respond to pressure, flattery, and so forth.
The need for careful design is especially pressing for what I call switch encounters, that is,
encounters that begin as roleplaying but that could easily become combat encounters. A devil, for
example, could want to chat with the party before destroying them; if it learns that they are both
seeking to bring down a group of diabolists serving a Demon Lord, the devil might even leave
the party alone, since both groups seek the same goal.
For each roleplaying encounter, you need to prepare three things ahead of time: what the PCs can
gain from the encounter, what the NPC might accept in exchange, and what skills or class
abilities will help them in the encounter.
What the Party Gains
Combat encounters are easy; kill the monster, take its stuff. Roleplaying encounters are tougher;
PCs still gain XP for defeating them, but it's also possible that the party will be defeated and not
even know it. While the goal of the encounter should be clear to the DM at all times, the PCs
may not know at the start whether they are dealing with a passage encounter, a resource
encounter, an information encounter, a talk-or-fight encounter, or something else.
Passage: The party gains entrance to a hidden or locked location, learns of an important site, or
gains a pass, key, or password that gets them through a gate or into a secret chamber. The whole
encounter is, essentially, an unlocking of an area that they can't reach without completing the
interaction successfully.
Information: The party gains a useful clue, learns a weakness to exploit in a future encounter,
gains access to spells or books that contain crucial information about the plot or the major
villains.
Resources: Some good or neutral-aligned characters will offer the party treasure, healing,
mounts, magic, or other resources if they believe that the party will serve a cause they both
believe in. This could be a magic sword with a bane enchantment against a major monster type, it
could be a set of healing potions, or it could be ancient coins to bribe an undead king into serving
the party as a distraction while the party slips over the castle walls. In most adventures, there are
at least some potentially friendly encounters that offer these sorts of treasures.

Roleplaying and Switch Encounters

"It's just a talk encounter. Send the bard to make nice."
If that's the attitude of your gaming group, you may not be designing your roleplaying
encounters correctly. What they should be saying is "Oh no, it's a talk encounter. Buff the bard
with eagle's splendor, quick!"
Wait, did I say "design your roleplaying encounters"? Sure I did. Just because some encounters

don't need stat blocks doesn't mean that they don't need preparation and careful design. If
anything, roleplaying encounters are more demanding, because you have to allow for more
options than just combat. Preparing a satisfying roleplaying encounter requires some deeper
thought about how your players respond to pressure, flattery, and so forth.
The need for careful design is especially pressing for what I call switch encounters, that is,
encounters that begin as roleplaying but that could easily become combat encounters. A devil, for
example, could want to chat with the party before destroying them; if it learns that they are both
seeking to bring down a group of diabolists serving a Demon Lord, the devil might even leave
the party alone, since both groups seek the same goal.
For each roleplaying encounter, you need to prepare three things ahead of time: what the PCs can
gain from the encounter, what the NPC might accept in exchange, and what skills or class
abilities will help them in the encounter.
What the Party Gains
Combat encounters are easy; kill the monster, take its stuff. Roleplaying encounters are tougher;
PCs still gain XP for defeating them, but it's also possible that the party will be defeated and not
even know it. While the goal of the encounter should be clear to the DM at all times, the PCs
may not know at the start whether they are dealing with a passage encounter, a resource
encounter, an information encounter, a talk-or-fight encounter, or something else.
Passage: The party gains entrance to a hidden or locked location, learns of an important site, or
gains a pass, key, or password that gets them through a gate or into a secret chamber. The whole
encounter is, essentially, an unlocking of an area that they can't reach without completing the
interaction successfully.
Information: The party gains a useful clue, learns a weakness to exploit in a future encounter,
gains access to spells or books that contain crucial information about the plot or the major
villains.
Resources: Some good or neutral-aligned characters will offer the party treasure, healing,
mounts, magic, or other resources if they believe that the party will serve a cause they both
believe in. This could be a magic sword with a bane enchantment against a major monster type, it
could be a set of healing potions, or it could be ancient coins to bribe an undead king into serving
the party as a distraction while the party slips over the castle walls. In most adventures, there are
at least some potentially friendly encounters that offer these sorts of treasures.
Avoiding Combat: Some roleplaying encounters just offer the opportunity to avoid spending
precious spells, hit points, and other resources on a tough fight. In these cases, it's always best to

signal very clearly that the monster in question can crush the party without a second thought.
Alternately, the talking at the beginning of an encounter gives a villain's minions time to
surround the party or bring up reinforcements, so that the stakes get higher and higher the longer
the party talks -- ratcheting up the tension on the party spokesperson. If the parley collapses into
combat, the villain will be in a stronger position than he was at the start. These are the "switch
encounters" discussed in more detail below.
Those four categories cover most roleplaying encounters.
Lies and Treachery
It is ridiculously easy to lead roleplayers astray, as many players don't seem to realize that NPCs
might be lying to them. Villains, double agents, and slippery underworld characters might all
have perfectly good (or perfectly dastardly) reasons for not telling the truth. For instance, in a
talk-or-fight encounter, the villain might be talking only because he needs to stall for time as his
slow-moving undead minions arrive on the scene, or while his lancers or crossbowmen move
under cover to a flanking position or the like.
In other cases, an NPC might seem to be helpful, but really is pumping the party for information.
Are they planning on raiding the necromancer's stronghold? When? Do they know about the
secret tunnel? Once the informant has told the party about the secret tunnel, of course, he might
go to the necromancer and tell him that a raid is coming, thus selling out both sides -- and
making that tunnel encounter much tougher, if the necromancer puts extra defenders there.
What can a suspicious party do? Well, there are defenses such as Sense Motive skill checks and
the use of a detect lie spell. The first of these is probably more helpful than the second.
What the Monsters Gain
The creatures or characters that the party is speaking with also have their goals in a role-playing
encounter. They might want food, souls, gold or other monetary bribes, flattery, a completed
quest, or information of their own. If the monsters don't gain what they want, the encounter ends
in failure for the party. This might mean they hear "I can't help you" from the scholar they
consult, or it might mean that the giant considers them too weak to bargain with and decides to
eat them all instead.
For the most part, I design roleplaying encounters to have three stages: discovering what the
monster wants, actual roleplaying between DM and players, and a skill check-driven resolution,
either positive or negative. If the role-playing resolution is negative, the result is often combat.

Discovering what the monsters want is usually the easy part; if a PC asks, most monsters will
answer. Of course, most monsters will ask for more than the minimum. Whether the party can
haggle successfully depends on their style and skills.
Using Skills and Class Abilities for Roleplaying
The skill-based classes and certain prestige classes have abilities such as Bardic Knowledge,
Artificer knowledge, Diplomacy, Intimidate, Bluff and the like, all of which can be useful in a
roleplaying encounter. But how far should they go in replacing actual conversation between a
player and DM?
This depends on what your players enjoy. If a player has sunk skill ranks into these abilities, they
should get use out of them. Likewise, characters who have sunk those ranks into something else
shouldn't get to talk their way out of trouble if they lack the abilities.
I like a two-pronged approach. First, every roleplaying encounter must include the NPC's Initial
Attitude (Player's Handbook page 72). This determines how tough it is for the PCs to talk their
way out at all -- and reminds you whether the encounter can be defeated through non-combat
means. If the party lacks the skills to sweet-talk an Unfriendly or Hostile monster, then tough
luck. They should fight it out, burning hit points, spells, and other resources in the process.
Second, if one or more of the PCs do have the Diplomacy skill or Charisma checks to change a
Hostile or Unfriendly monster to have a Neutral or better attitude, talk it out as long as you like,
playing up the weasely informer, the moustache-twirling villain or the drooling monster. Have
fun with the conversation, but the, at the crucial moment, when the informer says, "Well, I
shouldn't tell you this...," ask the player doing most of the talking to make the Bluff, Diplomacy,
Gather Information, or Intimidate check, as appropriate.
Set the bar for your role-playing skill checks ahead of time and stick with them. The rough rule
of thumb is that the DC should be roughly equal to 12 plus the party's level, so that a skill-based
character with maxed-out ranks and an ability bonus expects to succeed 75% of the time -- and a
character without skill ranks and no ability bonus succeeds less than 50% of the time.
Other Options
What if the party doesn't contain any high-skill characters, or they flub a crucial roll? There are a
few other options. Some monsters will take bribes or payoffs. Others can be avoided through
magic or disguises. If there are any items, quests, or information an NPC needs, they may just
demand those instead. The party is not necessarily defeated just because a social skill fails.
Switch Encounters: Roleplaying into Combat

One of the best ways to make a combat more entertaining is to set it up as a roleplaying
encounter first. The knight who brags he can spit the party members like piglets on his lance, the
giant who toys with his food, or the evil wizard who pretends to be their friend before betraying
them one night during the midnight watch are all potentially more interesting than merely rolling
dice. If the party is going to meet one of these, prepare some dialogue ahead of time -- and set
the initial attitude to Hostile.
The trick to a switch encounter is simple: though he is hostile, the major NPC doesn't attack right
away. Sure, he hates the party and wishes them ill, but he wants to toy with them first. The
encounter looks like a roleplaying opportunity for the party, and it is. Any PC who wants to
bandy words, propose single combat, insult their opponent's tribe and family, and so forth has
time to do it. The NPC, though, will wait until he's good and ready before attacking -- and will
use the time to try to arrange things in his or her favor by summoning henchmen, alerting the
(evil or corrupt) town guards, arranging for an invisible assassin as backup, gaining the divine
favor of evil priests, and so forth.
One easy way to stretch out the roleplaying opportunity here is to separate the sides. The NPC
may do his taunting from a half-hidden position: top of a tower, the other side of a moat while
the drawbridge slowly lowers, and or something like that. One member of the party must "keep
him talking" while the others make their own preparations.
When the party finally attacks, the major NPC has a readied spell or action (since he's been
expecting this) and he may have hidden assets as well, just as the party does. If the NPC has high
ranks in Bluff or Perform (Acting), he may have completely fooled the heroes (invited them in to
a meal while poisoning their wine). In cases like this, DO NOT ask for saving throws or Spot
checks from the party. Instead, ask for Diplomacy and Sense Motive rolls. Determine the
required DCs for these as part of the encounter prep. Asking for a Spot check is a big red flag to
players that something is going on, and many "break character" and begin prepping for combat
when their characters (who failed the Spot checks) would not do so.
Instead, wait and drag the party further into the villain's clutches. Until someone says "He's
playing us", let the NPC get away with it. That way, the sense of betrayal is much more real -because you, as the DM, have fooled the players to some degree as well. Once the players catch
on, THEN ask for the Fortitude saves for the poisoned wine, the Spot rolls to see the hidden
archers, the Spellcraft check to notice the necromantic spell on the servants, and so forth.
Conclusion
Roleplaying encounters require design and prep work to have maximum impact, and usually the
ones that work really well are remembered much longer than most combats.

Copper Bits and Gleaming Hordes

From the player's perspective, there are just two reasons to risk character's life and limb:
experience points and fat loot. This time around at Adventure Builder, we'll take a look at combat
gear, mundane treasure, trick treasure, magical treasure, information treasures, and more.
The Treasure Curve
First though, we'll consider the Treasure Curve. The idea here is to spread out the size of
treasures, increasing the difference between low and high-treasure encounters at any given EL.
% of Encounters
45%
20%
20%
10%
5%

Treasure Found
Little or no treasure
Half treasure
Standard Treasure
Double Treasure
Hoard, 10x standard

EL 1
up to 15 gp
150 gp
300 gp
600 gp
3,000 gp

EL 3
up to 50 gp
450 gp
900 gp
1,800 gp
9,000 gp

EL 9
up to 200 gp
2,250 gp
4,500 gp
9,000 gp
45,000 gp

The standard treasure line on the Treasure Curve table is equivalent to the value provided in
Table 3-3: Treasure Values per Encounter (Dungeon Master's Guide page 51). The values above
and below that line show the little, half, double, and hoard values.
Because many encounters using the treasure curve provide little or no treasure, the total amount
of treasure per adventure is exactly the same as if you gave exactly standard treasure on the usual
table. The few double and hoard treasures make up for the lack of small bits of loot -- and they
have a LOT more impact on the players. A 1st level party finding 3,000 gp of gold, gems, and
magic is more impressed than the same party finding 10 treasures of 300 gp each. Differentiating
the size of treasures makes the big ones more memorable, and makes it easy to determine just
how big a dragon's hoard or an evil Lord Cardinal's treasury ought to be at any level.
Hidden and Buried Treasures

Players invest in Search ranks for their characters for a reason: treasures are often hidden. So any
DM who wants to make an adventure interesting will hide at least 20% of the treasures to be had,
and possibly much more. Yes, a dragon likely sleeps on a big pile of coins and gems -- but it
might hide the rubies and sapphires it values most. Likewise, the commander of a garrison of
hobgoblins probably keeps his treasure locked up -- and possibly keeps it sealed in a chest at the
bottom of a well, except on payday.
Hiding and burying treasure poses two problems in gameplay. The first is that PCs need to have
enough ranks in Search to make the DC checks (which should probably not run much higher than
10 plus average character level, since only the rogue is likely to have maximum ranks in Search,
and maybe not even him).
The bigger problem is that of hiding things too well: no one wants to spend an entire gaming
session saying, "Okay, we dig up that floor, and poke around the attic under the eaves," for every
room they search. This is where roleplaying encounters and documents can help. If the party is
smart enough to capture a minion, he might well offer to reveal the location of hidden or buried
treasure in exchange for mercy. Documents can help as well, but most people don't write out "I
buried the treasure here," no matter what pirate movies might have you believe. They hide the
information in code, they draw maps that only make sense to themselves, and they general
obfuscate the issue. That's fine if you have the inclination to make up similar puzzles for your
players, but they can eat a lot of prep time. To get around that, I recommend allowing uses of
Decipher Script and the dwarven stonework racial ability to help guide them to the loot. A clever
use of a locate object spell could help too. If the PCs learn (from a minion, for example) what
one item of the larger hoard is, they can use that with locate object to find the entire treasure. Let
them figure that connection out for themselves.
If you bury a treasure, make sure you create at least one or two paths for the party to find it. They
don't have to be easy paths, and they'll have a greater sense of satisfaction if they do a little
deduction than if you had just hand the treasure to them by saying "It's right there in the middle
of the room."
False Treasures
Certain things look like treasures, but aren't really. Some of these are false treasures, things that
fill out a room with the look of fat loot but that can't be taken away and sold. A false treasure
might be a collection of cheap glass "jewels" that glitter from the doorway, but are worthless
once appraised, or a huge pile of gold and silver coins that turns out to be almost all silver. Use
these sorts of treasure sparingly, especially if the fight to win them is a tough one.

False treasures really are worth nothing when examined closely. This is what distinguishes them
from what I call "challenge treasures", which are truly valuable but difficult for the party to take
away and sell, or a challenge to recognize as treasure in the first place.
Challenge Treasures
A barrel of wine eight feet tall or a four-ton statue are just too heavy to be looted easily without
special equipment. But beware of calling them false treasures; some players just love a
challenge. Put that barrel into ten smaller kegs and presto -- that old wine IS worth a fortune. The
party just has to figure out how to rig the harnesses on their mules to carry the keg, and off they
go with vintage wealth.
A statue too big to carry? Maybe not -- add in a shrink item spell and a bag of holding, and
presto, it's off to the market. If the party finds the reducing spell on a scroll and figures it out,
they deserve to walk with the money. In most cases, if an item is worth a lot then serious players
will struggle to make it work. As the DM, you should emphasize the "struggle" part of that
equation. The wine might need to be carried over a mountain pass. The bag of holding might
rupture when the shrink item spell wears off! Think of those challenges when you place the
treasure, rather than scrambling to justify the difficulty when the party decides to melt down an
"unmovable" mithral pillar by building a dwarven smelter onsite.
Certainly in every case where a treasure is merely unwieldy, the PCs might struggle with the
weight and trouble, but unless you impose fatigue and exhaustion penalties (followed by a bandit
encounter or robber barons), the players don't mind putting the heroes through hell to bring the
treasure home.
Appraisable Treasures
Some players love unusual treasures, even if their monetary value isn't that high, because they
have a high coolness factor. Consider the following list:

Ancient coins, green with verdigris

Illuminated (illustrated, not glowing) manuscripts picked out in golden ink and colored
with lapis lazuli

Dusty bottles of elven wine, sealed with blue wax

Stained glass windows

Decanters brimming with halfling brandy

A spotless red temple cat

Beats the heck out of 100 gp or a silver bracelet, no? While the gp value of these treasures could
be about the same as a standard chunk of coins, these treasures are all a little more memorable -and they provide an opportunity for Appraise checks.
A party rogue or skill character who invests in Appraise proves his worth with these kinds of
treasures. After all, some old coins are just old coins, some manuscripts are religious screeds
from forgotten cults, and some bottles of wine are truly best used as cooking vinegar --- all
"treasures" not worth carrying around. When you do place treasures like this, make sure that both
the valuable and junky variety are present. After all, if every dusty bottle is a treasure, the party
will never learn to use the Appraise skill on them -- they'll just carry every crate to town for
someone else to appraise.
Not every memorably treasure is rare, collectable, or valuable, of course. The rangers and animal
handlers in the party might be amused to find simple casks of ale, bushels of oats and rye to feed
a village, a herd of oxen, or a valuable breeding mare famous for her bloodlines. The party that
figures out that the best treasure in the adventure is a mare worth ten times the normal cost of a
warhorse deserves the extra cash -- many groups will just sell her without any idea of what
they've found.
Land and Status
Many of the richest treasures aren't either cash or physical goods. In fact, the truly wealthy
medieval times depended on several things far more than money: land, fiefdoms, and status.
These non-monetary treasures could be found in physical form as treasures, or they could be
granted as gifts by a grateful king, noble, or city-state. In either case, set them up ahead of time
with entry requirements. These sorts of treasures should be associated only with complete
success on big adventures, not side treks or partial success.
In some cases, the treasure can be a written one: crucial genealogical information about a
family's heritage, for example. That information might reveal that a PC has a claim to a fiefdom,
that the current noble lord is actually a bastard son, or that someone else might have a better
claim to a title (and that someone would presumably be happy to reward the PCs for telling him
about it). Physical status might also be a matter of owning status items, items best identified by
identify spells or by the legend lore ability of the bard. An ax that looks pretty mundane and does
not light up under a detect magic spell still might be hugely valuable if it is the ax of the clan
ancestor or a famous dwarven defender, a named weapon of song and story. The dwarf who finds
and recognizes that ax will have found a terrific treasure, and might use it to claim clan
leadership or a fiefdom, even if it is only a masterwork item.
What about those fiefdoms? In medieval times, a fief was just a holding that a vassal got from a
feudal lord. It was usually land, but not always. More interesting fiefdoms included the right to

collect bridge or river tolls at a crossing, or the right to levy a tariff on goods at a harbor. Fantasy
fiefdoms might include a hunting fief in an elven kingdom, a mining fief among dwarves, or
even the right to tax magical artifice in a major urban center. If the party helps a group of elves,
dwarves, or artificers out of a fix, they might be rewarded that way rather than with standard
treasure.
Plot Coupons: Information, Clues and Keys
When she was DungeonMagazine editor in the early 90s, Barbara Young had a term for certain
items of treasure or information: plot coupons. These were the items from many old adventures
(and even supposedly modern video games) that the party would have to wander around the
adventure collecting. You know the kind of thing: puzzle pieces that make a map, the fragments
of a letter or diary, magic crystals, or a series of colored keys of any kind. Old published
adventures like Expedition to the Barrier Peaks were notorious for this (for that one, it was
colored access cards).
As a treasure, these plot coupons are lame. And they are called plot coupons for a reason: when
the PCs collect enough of them, they can trade them in for the next story arc or for the grand
finale. It makes a convenient way to force the party around the map, but it is forced. Unless the
adventure really truly demands collecting a sequence of items (think Rod of Seven Parts), avoid
this type of "treasure." Players don't appreciate it, even though it makes lazy design easier.
Conclusion
Some players enjoy intricate roleplaying, others prefer rounds of complex combat, but everybody
loves treasure. Make sure that the treasures you design into an adventure include some standard
loot and some unusual items, and your game will be richer for it.
Structures and Plot
While a great DM can create an adventure on the fly out of a set of ragged note cards and
carefully-chosen random encounters, most of us need a little more preparation -- and a lot more
structure.
The hook gets the adventure started (as discussed in "Setting the Hook"), but the plot needs more
than just a beginning; it needs a middle and an end as well. How can you build those and know
they'll work? What are the best kinds of adventure plot structures?
Well, there are two standard ways to think about adventure structures: linear adventures and
matrix plots. Likewise, there are two primary methods of advancing the plot: triggered
encounters and site-based encounters. Both approaches have their strengths and weaknesses, and

most adventures meld the two. Neither is strictly "better" than the other, but most DMs find they
prefer one or the other.
Linear Plots
The beauty of linear plots is that they work so simply, and any group of players, even complete
novices, can succeed with it. The party goes through a set of encounters in sequence. These can
be encounters sequenced in time or in space.
Chronological Linear Plots
Adventures that are linear through time include things like sieges, rebellions, regicides, or natural
disasters, where the events unfold in a logical progression -- but the party either helps or hinders
that progression. The party can act only when it has information to act on or when circumstances
around the PCs change. As the DM is the gatekeeper of game information, you control the pace
of the game. If the vital ship hasn't arrived yet, or the crucial message hasn't reached its recipient,
the adventure doesn't progress. The party can make preparations, or do research, or go on other
adventures -- but the chronological adventure moves when you say it does. This can be a great
help if you are designing, say, an adventure with the first scene played at 1st level, the second
major scene at 4th level, and the finale at 6th level, but it's an unusual way for most designers to
work. Essentially, a chronological design like this is a one big set of linear triggered encounters
(see below), and it's often more linear than it needs to be.
How can you tell that a chronological design might be too linear? The flow chart for the design
doesn't branch anywhere; the party just waits for you to provide the action and responds. That
sounds worse than it is; the level of control of timing can create memorable action, but it's not
what most players think of as a "standard D&D adventure".
Geographic Linear Plots
Linear plots like this are usually either a road adventure or a dungeon. Road adventures or quest
adventures are linear because the important encounters happen on a road, river, trade route, or
other path. The Hobbit is a fine example, but Lord of the Rings is not because the party splits up
and events happen in divergent locations that all affect the end result.
Dungeons are often touted as the perfect linear adventure, especially dungeons that contain
choke points such as gates, single staircases, or air shafts that the party must traverse to reach the
next section. And they are linear adventures, but in some ways they can often be bypassed by a
clever party with disguises and stealth, with teleportation or other movement magic, or simply by
digging a tunnel from one section of the dungeon to another. In most cases, dungeons are

designed to offer at least a few branching paths for players to explore, to avoid being boringly
linear.
Road adventures are really the most satisfying approach to linear adventures, at least for the DM.
They allow a DM to showcase his favorite exotic scenery, to throw nuisance encounters at the
party, and to grant or take away polders (discussed in Adventure Builder #1 and Dungeon 135).
You have total control over the pacing. If you need an important NPC to show up early, just
move him one day's travel closer to the party. If the party is too fresh or too stealthy, you can add
a weather encounter, bandits, or even just an annoying group of zealous pilgrims who want to
travel along with the party. If the party wants to complete the adventure, they have to follow the
road. It's the perfect example of a railroad plot, with all its strengths and weaknesses.
The Trouble with Linear Plots
So if linear plots are so wonderful from the DM perspective, why doesn't everyone use them?
Well, they do, in books and movies, where the narrative is presented complete and whole and the
reader or viewer just soaks it in. But players want to feel a sense of mastery and control: what's
the point of being a big shot hero if your actions don't matter and your fate is already totally
determined? No group of players wants to walk through a completely linear A-B-C sequence of
rooms that ends with some big mastermind encounter. It's logical, it's a progression of suspense
and tension, and it's totally unsatisfying. Players want to see their choices (or at least the illusion
of choice) affect the gameplay.
So, linear adventure designs need to manufacture the illusion of choice.
The illusion of choice is just what it sounds like: no matter what decisions the players make, they
wind up where you want them to wind up. All NPC wizards can translate the Lost Book of
Golgamar. Some dungeon caverns are red herrings but the only way to the second level leads
through the big boss's room. All taverns contain one of the cardinal's spies. All roads lead to
Mount Doom. It doesn't matter what they choose.
But of course, it should never look that way. To the party, choices should matter, and if you hint
otherwise, players have every right to be annoyed and frustrated with your game. If you give
them nothing but tactical combat choices to make, you might as well be playing a miniatures
wargame. They need to have at least some control.
Even if choice is an illusion in your design, it shouldn't always be an illusion of success. Some of
their false choices should appear to be failures. But better yet, your adventures shouldn't be
entirely linear. They should contain branching or matrix elements as well.
Matrix Plots

Matrix plots are looser plots that don't progress from A to B to C, but may jump around in any
order. Three factions fight for dominance in Sigil, the City of Doors, and the PCs may align
themselves with one or more of them. A plague threatens a kingdom, but the clues that point to
the culprit can be found in any order. Matrix plots may move ahead over time with or without the
PCs' input. They are more typical for mystery adventures, city adventures, and horror adventures.
Matrix adventures depend on triggered encounters or site-based encounters. These correspond to
the basic encounter types in chronological or geographic linear plots, but work a little differently.
Triggered Encounters
Triggered encounters happen when the trigger is pulled: when the stars are right, when the red
lantern hangs from the attic window, when a horned man comes to town, when the murder
weapon is found, or when the party goes to ask for help from the seven-eyed wizard. The triggers
can be anything, but in a linear adventure, they set each other off like dominos. To meet the
horned man, you need the stars and the lantern first.
In a matrix adventure, the order doesn't matter -- and that makes design much more complex.
The number of what-ifs is tougher: if the stars aren't aligned yet, does the horned man know
when they will be aligned? But if the stars are already aligned, that's unneeded information. The
number of permutations quickly grows, which is why I recommend that a matrix plot have just
three major triggers, and that everything else be a standard linear element. Go for four major
triggers if you feel ambitious, but realize that each trigger is a little like a separate act in a play; it
should change the player's goals, or their understanding of the situation in some way.
Once you know what those three elements are, you can design around all the major permutations.
Typical triggers are clues (finding a map, meeting the ghost of a dead twin, or deciphering a
runestone), time triggers (chimes at midnight, the arrival of a courier), and significant actions
(reforging a sword, visiting an oracle). For each of those triggers, I like to have a separate finale
scene in mind (see below), but that's probably not necessary. Just make sure that the villain or
final battle can take place at any of the trigger locations.
Site-Based Encounters
If you want to, you can think of site-based encounters as plot elements are triggered by location,
but that underestimates their importance in game design. Location is EVERYTHING in dungeon
adventures, because the map constrains the sequence that players can approach things. To reach
the big bad evil guy's ultimate lair, the party must walk the road. This is why site-based
encounters and linear plots so often go hand-in-hand: location determines the order of scenes, the
progression of the plot, the unraveling of clues. But sites can also be a useful way of organizing
your matrix plot; the party often visits places on the map until they run out of ideas. Having a

map is a way of keeping the party looking around, even if the ultimate encounter isn't even on
the jungle map at all, but hidden deep in a cenote, a sinkhole and sacrificial well deep below the
jungle floor.
Simply by making the map of sites go through certain choke points, your design guarantees that
the party does what you want --- but in matrix adventures, the locations are each a small part of a
larger mosaic. In a perfect matrix design, there's enough little bits of the larger picture scattered
around that, for instance, after getting any 5 out of the 8 major encounters, a group of players
will have enough information to see the finale coming.
Finales
The three most important scenes in any adventure are the inciting incident (which gamers call the
hook), reversals, and finale. The reversal is usually the point at which a trigger changes the party
goals, and the finale is simply that moment when the party finally, finally gets to take down the
Big Bad. Structuring a finale, though, is tricky.
D&D design at Wizards of the Coast usually assumes that the final encounter has an EL of at
least the average party level plus 2, and often as much as average party level plus 4. The trick to
balancing this crucial combat, though, is that it's hard to know just how beat up the party will be
at the start of it. Overdo it, and it's a total party kill. Make it too easy, and the party walks all over
the encounter that should challenge them the most.
This is why minions, summoned monsters, and henchman can be so valuable to designing a
finale: they're a catchup factor that lets you dial in the difficulty. If the party is very hurt, they
may just fight some of the villain's underlings and retreat, and the finale itself is saved for a
second fight (if the party can find the villain again). If the DM is generous, a party that kills the
villain demoralizes all the henchmen, and the fight is effectively over -- the minions flee.
If the party is very strong at the end of the adventure, the minions and other secondary creatures
keep coming, keep fighting, and bring in more and more reinforcements -- until at last the party
takes down their major opponent, and the night ends as a big success. As a designer, you should
consider designing the final encounter with a variable number of underlings to make it as tough
as it can be, without going over.
Conclusion
Know what kind of design you want at the start, and build to suit: a straight line, a matrix, or a
little of each. Either way, the plot should point to a single finale that can be modified on the fly
for maximum entertainment at the Big Finish.

Terrain, Hazards, and Traps

You can spend a lot of time working on stat blocks for an adventure. But you can have just as
much fun, and create a much more challenging play experience, if you spend at least a little of
your design time working on the environment. After all, in fantasy books and movies, you hear
about the bitter stone lands of Mordor or see the flaming geysers in the Fire Swamp of Princess
Bride. Not every challenge comes with fangs or a sword.
The environment provides more than just encounter variety; it also gives rogues a chance to
show off their skills, gives fighters tactical opportunities in combat, and --- well, okay, arcane
and divine casters don't like traps and difficult terrain. Tough luck. They can dispel certain
magical traps and hazards, and that's usually about it for the scroll and holy symbol crowd.
As a designer, you gain adventure depth and richness from the environment design work you do.
I think about environmental challenges in terms of broad solutions, channeling movement, and
story effects. We'll look at each in turn.
Unfolding Terrain for the Whole Party
Hazards and terrain don't necessarily have to look nasty to begin with, and they don't have to use
the usual rogue skills to be interesting. The things that look safe may require Survival checks to
reveal their true danger. This gives rangers, barbarians, and druids a way to approach terrain
hazards. Consider the following:

Crevasses in a snowfield

A natural cliff face that looks like an easy climb until the eagles' fish guts and dropping
make it suddenly slick and dangerous

Geysers that erupt every few rounds, soaking everyone nearby

A run of rain-slicked stairs

A river crossing with swift-running flood waters

A cave floor covered in bat guano that acts like quicksand

That last one is a hazard that fighters might have the best luck with, as it could require either a
Jump check or raw Strength to escape.
All of the above could be added to existing encounters to provide more options in combat. In
fact, most hazards should be built with tactics and miniatures combat in mind: pools of
superheated mud for bull-rushing enemies into, a tilted floor around a pit of snakes, and ground
that crumbles beneath the PCs' feet (and eventually vanishes entirely). Many of the obstacles and
hazards that make combat interesting should be designed with fighter class skills in mind: Climb,
Jump, and Swim. A few should always be magical (magical fogs, guards and wards, permanent
cloudkill spells, runes, etc), so their auras can be detected and disarmed by the spellcasters.
This isn't to say that hazards and traps aren't for the rogues in the party. Deliberate magical or
mechanical traps will usually require rogues and arcane casters to defuse, but anyone with a few
Spot ranks can see the teetering boulder and landslide that giants threaten to unleash on the party.
A ranger might notice footprints near a pit trap, and a druid might use a warp wood spell to
disarm a ballista trap or open a castle gate that is stuck closed. As a designer, you want to avoid
making terrain and traps "just a rogue thing".
Channeling with Hazards and Terrain
If a particular direction on your adventure maps includes, say, a magma field or a necromantic
fog, the party may decide that it's not worth overcoming that obstacle. In some cases, that's
exactly what you want. When you say "there's a raging wall of fire down the left-hand corridor,
and echoing darkness to the right," you're making it easier to go one way rather than another.
You're channeling the party with not-too-subtle terrain hints.
For instance, a field full of razorvines in one of the outer planes is essentially a quick way for the
DM to say "Don't go there." The party might have a fly spell to go over it (more on that later), but
it's just not something that the party wants to burn hit points and cures on. When you are
channeling the party in a particular direction, it pays to be obvious.
Even being obvious doesn't always work, of course. Sometimes the party sees the obstacle as a
sure sign that some great treasure lies in that direction, or assumes "that's where the adventure
is." This sort of metagame thinking can burn a lot of time at the table as the party checks out
every dead end. You can either let them continue burning resources until they decide it isn't
worth it, or give them an out.
The out could be a helpful NPC, a map, or clue that points in another direction, or even just
reaching the end of the hazard with nothing to show for it. Next time, they may spend a little
more energy on scouting or research before they take on the Forest of Infinite Brambles or the
Death Fog. It's okay for PCs to learn the hard way that some obstacles are just... obstacles. Smart
parties learn to avoid expending their energies for unclear goals.
Hazards for Story Effect

What if you don't want the party to avoid your nasty terrain? Then you'd better make it
unexpected, make it exciting in story terms, or just make it clear that conquering the obstacle is
worthwhile for them. You can do this with surprise terrain, drama terrain, or luring terrain.
Surprise Terrain: Quicksand and avalanches, rockslides and pyroclastic flows, fields of undead
rising up all around, or piercers and green slime dropping from the ceiling --- what do they have
in common? The PCs might not see them coming.
Surprise terrain encounters are the D&D equivalent of the "sting" or shocking moment in a
horror movie. If done right, they scare the party for a moment, ratcheting up the tension in an
adventure, and putting the PCs on their toes for the next one. Note that traps require speed; if you
are going to run traps and hazards effectively, you must play them quickly. Nothing frustrates
players like hearing "You hear a click, and a trap goes off wait a second, I've got to look this
up." It creates some suspense, but not the good kind. The game is at a halt. People wander off for
chips and a soda.
The solution is to do the lookups before the game. Write down the page numbers for special rules
like drowning, bull rushing, deep snow, or whatever applies better still, use bookmarks or copy
and paste the sentence you need from the SRD into your adventure. Structure the encounter to be
quick and be done. Read aloud one or two quick physical details, ask for the required rolls, then
move on. Maybe throw in a blast of music or a sound effect if it matches the encounter type.
How is this "worth it" for a party? It's a fun scare. They might not admit it, but shock value is
sometimes part of the fun.
Drama Terrain: Hazards and other "passive" terrain can have a powerful dramatic effect on a
party. For instance, the waters of the River Styx can wipe out memory, or a waterfall or cave-in
can split the party, or a particular hall may be full of magical echoes and voices from the past. In
each of those cases, you've designed in a change to the whole adventure because you've
manipulated the situation to change the party's goals. Does a split party continue? Does the
scholarly cleric speak with the dead in the hall of whispers or risk calling attention from
incorporeal undead? The description of the terrain affects the party's options enough that it could
become a side quest.
The other way to think about drama terrain is to provide the hams and showboat players with a
golden opportunity. If a princess is surrounded by a lake of fire, the paladin may step up to
rescue her --- and may fry for his trouble. The important design of drama terrain is that you build
in difficulty through both the description and through a series of saves or skill checks. A single
Fortitude save and some fire damage might be one way to design the dramatic "wading through
fire" scene. But it is much more effective if you write three pieces of text: one as the character
approaches the danger (the "Are you sure?" moment in gamemastering), one as the character

begins to overcome the hazard, and one to up the stakes. The first of these is pretty familiar, and
is something like "You feel the heat of the fire and smell your leather boots begin to smolder. Do
you walk into the flames?"
The second is a little tougher. The fire damage is automatic since the character is deliberately
walking through it, but once you assign the first round of fire damage, you could ask for a Will
save to keep going. Even tough guys and firemen know that walking through fire hurts, and some
characters might not be able to push themselves through that. So read "Your hair and eyebrows
are charred, your eyes water, and your lungs burn. The end of the fire looks a long way off." If he
makes the save after that, he's won bragging rights (and if he doesn't, the other players will mock
him).
The final bit of drama is when things get worse. Sure, the character was expecting fire damage (a
few hit points off the sheet, no big deal). So make it a bigger deal. "You are sinking into the coals
on the floor, almost up to your knees, and the straps and wooden pieces of your armor and gear
are catching fire; you can barely see. If you continue, the boots may burn right off your feet." If
the PC moves ahead, assign more automatic fire damage for staying and then ask for some item
saving throws. If he makes it through that, it's a lot more rewarding than just "You take 10 points
of fire damage and walk to the island." By playing up the drama with multiple checks and
increasing risk, you've made that fire walk much more memorable.
Luring Terrain: Put a big obvious sign that what they want is beyond a section of oozing gassy
swamp, or up on a tall, slick pillar, and watch the party come up with clever ways to bypass all
your ingenious, lethal, heavy-on-the-saving-throws design. Luring terrain usually requires three
things: an obvious reward, a cost, and enough time for the PCs to decide if they want to pay that
cost.
For instance, they might hear that a holy sword is hidden in paladin's shrine, and that both forces
of evil and of good want to keep it there (for different reasons, of course). When they arrive, they
see that the entire shrine is guarded by archons and the sword itself is contained in a pillar of
divine light that burns everyone around it and they see the fire absolutely incinerate a devil that
tries to steal the sword away. Do they want to fight the archons? Maybe. Do they want to suffer
divine fire? They'll have to do so or find another way to succeed. The terrain in this case is
designed to make the party consider bargaining with the archons leading to a carefullydesigned roleplaying encounter but the party may decide it's worth going the obvious combat
route instead. The paladin's ghost may not appreciate their technique...
The Flight Problem
Many traditional traps in adventures are really targeted at walking intruders: the rolling boulder,
the trigger plate, the pit full of acid or the moat full of dire crocodiles. They can be avoided by

any flying creature. Even castle walls are subject to this problem once the party includes
spellcasters with flight spells.
The solution? Flying traps and trapbuilders who are ready for flying trespassers.
A flying trap uses the same elements as a normal trap: a trigger and a payload. The triggers could
be tripwires strung from wall to ceiling and painted black, floating seeds or feathers, superthin
spider silk, or enormous soaplike bubbles that pop if touched. They could be area triggers: if a
certain square is flown through, the aerial disturbance releases the trap. Or they could be like the
swarm of bloodhawks guarding Tenser's tower in Return of the Eight; all the villagers know that
flying visitors get mobbed by masses of bloodthirty raptors only fools fight their way through.
What are the payloads of a flying trap? They could be poison gas, darts, crossbow bolts, or
explosives, but those are fairly standard. Why not be more original and use ray spells, or a nasty
downdraft that forces a flying creature onto the spikes beneath it, or a hailstorm that ices a flying
mount's feathered wings? A normal-looking cloud of deadly poisonous spores. There are just as
many things deadly to a flying character as to a walking one.
While one or two flying traps or hazards might be appropriate, don't overdo. If a party is burning
resources flying around your cunning pits, webs, and oozes well, at least they are using their
PC resources. Those fly spells and potions won't be available later.
Conclusion
Terrain and traps are more than nuisance encounters; they can add variety, drama and spice to
your games. Don't forget to add richness to combat encounters and movement parts of the game
by the careful use of terrain and hazards to give each adventure area its own sense of place,
danger, and mystery.

Other things to use in encounters

Levels
Phases
Items
Waves

Area Conditions
Terrain
Useable Effects

Aspects of a Great Adventure

I) Villain
II) Locations
III) Story/Agenda
IV) Henchman / Antagonists
V) Rewards
VI) Repercussions

I) Villain (He is the driver behind the adventure)

A) Good Motivation
1) What do they want?
2) Why are they doing what they are doing?
3) If they die (and they probably will) who will take their place?
B) Good Method of Operation
C) What they think they are doing is right.
D) Memorable Traits (1-3)
1) Verbal
2) Physical
3) Power
E) Needs to be visually proactive and reactive
1) Players need to see the plan unfolding in some way.
2) You need to feel his hand at work from beginning to end.
3) Means and will to do bad things to your players and react against them.
a) Assassins
b) Bribe
c) Political Power (shops stop selling to them, temple wont heal them)
d) Kidnaps characters family
F) Interacts with players multiple times (similar to previous)
1) Send messages via gem, mirror, illusion
II) Location (Often most memorable aspect of the adventure)
A) Often recognizable visual motif
1) Find a simple thing and blow it out for your motif and make it the defining
trait.
2) Familiar, Functional, and Fantastic
a) Familiar Everybody knows that it is like
b) Function - You know why this place exist
c) Fantastic - Magical or ever burning torches, scintillating colors.
B) Should move the story foreword somehow
1) Go to defeat villain
2) Go there to get info to find villain
C) Challenging and Dangerous
1) Take familiar than crank up danger
a) Monsters or traps or terrain
III) Story and Agenda
A) Story is developed as Players take actions so you cant predict a whole lot
B) You need to establish a clear picture of what the villain is trying to accomplish.
1) All his actions and goals will be tied around this.
2) Dont have to reveal the motivation from the beginning.
a) When do you reveal?
b) set up, keep secret for about 2-3 encounters than reveal,
C) Make the interesting stuff obvious

1) If you are going to do a reveal, than build up to it

D) Make sure threat is appropriate for heros level
E) Make sure that you are able to react to what the players do and what your antagonist
does. Players should feel they effect the story.
F) Challenge player expectations is good but if you do it all the time they will have no
expectations.
G) Dont throw out red herrings
IV) Henchmen / Antagonists
A) Must contribute to the villains plans in some way.
B) Must be henchmen he can reasonably have.
C) Good connections with the henchmen.
- 2 types of henchmen are interesting (Human and elementals i.e.)
D) Let Henchmen react like the villain does.
- Not all henchmen fight to the death
Encounters
Combat and Non Combat
(Dont do road blockers)
A) Break up combat encounters
1) Orcs, explore encounter, more orcs
2) Give them rest and create balance.
3) Traps and skill encounters
B) Ok to have encounters that are too easy
1) They dont all have to be knock out drag out
2) 2 guards protect door
3) Some should go a little quicker
C) Only use empty rooms if they provide some sort of purpose, such as secret door or
info.
D) Toss in a few traps to mix things up
E) Exploration encounters are great to communicate story information.
(Paintings, scratch marks, history books)
Allies / NPCs
A) Write a sentence about what they do know and what they dont
B) No NPC should have all the pieces to the puzzle
C) NPCs need to be reactive just like the villain.
a. If a villain is killed maybe an ally takes his spot.
b. Even villain NPCs can become an ally
c. The PCs like the idea of other NPCs owning them favors and doing things for
them.
d. Create allies who complement the characters occasionally.
e. NPCs can be neutral
V) Rewards
A) Pick Items that make your heroes feel important.

- Give them rewards that have story behind them. Villains sword is his icon that
allows him to run his church.
B) You can create your own items but make sure they have something to do with the
story.
C) Be generous with consumable items (potions, elixirs, etc)
D) Items that only work in the context of the campaign.
- Political power works here
- Black ledger that contains blackmail to frame other people
- Give them Keep and Castle but beware that they will stay and protect it.
VI) Repercussions
A) Should be long lasting though they dont have to be severe
B) Players should see the difference
C) High level PCs love to see their reputation go ahead of them.
D) Let the story move on because of the PCs actions