Dragonbane readthrough: The Pyramid of the Spider King and The Twin Mountains

All right, being entirely too tired, depressed and headachey to post anything innovative, this week I’ve decided to read a little more of the classics. A while ago, I read the very first roleplaying game ever published in Swedish – Dragonbane, first edition. This time, I thought I’d move on with the only two supplements ever published for it before the second edition kicked in.

Starting with the very first roleplaying adventure published in Swedish: Spindelkonungens Pyramid (“The Pyramid of the Spider King”).

There’s actually three different version of this thing: one for the first edition, one technically that was sold along with the second edition but actually runs on first-edition rules, and one that was sold on its own where they had translated it to the second edition. Yeah, I don’t quite know what’s up with that.

In this adventure, the players find themselves in the caravan city of Cerand, which lies at the edge of the Toora Desert (which is a pun, by the way: in Swedish torr means “dry”) beyond which lies the exotic land of Faar. Get used to the punny names, by the way, because there’s going to be a lot of them. At one point the players get attacked by two giant spiders named “Spinn” and “Dell” (from the Swedish spindel, “spider”), there’s a demon called Puutch (from puts, “polish”) who has been bound to polish a pole for eternity, there’s another, crocodile-like demon who is hanging around in a pool of soggy goo and is called Träsck (träsk = “swamp”)…

Anyway, they’re hired by a one-legged dude named Assar the Sorcerer to break into a nearby pyramid and get him three particular doodads from it – all other loot they can keep. I kind of like the fact that there’s a built-in reason why he can’t just go with them and help them with his presumably uber-strong magic skills… The pyramid is the burial site of Arach the Spider King, who I think we’re quite free to picture as The Rock, and is guarded by, well, a whole bunch of giant spiders, including a big bugger called Lepera.

So it’s a dungeon, basically, with a lot of quirky traps like a room that starts spinning wildly when you enter it, a paper floor with the aforementioned crocodile-demon beneath it, a bucket that contains a liquid that’s harmless in itself but makes you smell delicious to spiders… And yes, there is a really big spider guarding the final treasure room.

Something that gives it all some extra flavour is that there are ways to circumvent the main path, but that it’s not necessarily a good idea. If the players look around, they can find a hidden stairway in one place and a pole to slide down in another, and if they follow them all the way down they end up in the catacombs beneath the pyramid. And there they can find a bunch of trolls and goblins, under contract of a nearby tyrannical king, have dug themselves in and are now working on setting off an explosive under the main treasure chamber so they can get at the goodies. The adventure notes that these rival adventurers aren’t necessarily hostile and that some arrangement might be made with them, so there’s a possibility for some diplomacy in the midst of the spider-squashing.

All in all, it’s really colourful and funny, but I also can’t help it note that, much like the sample adventure in the rule book… that this thing is a meatgrinder. Like, every monster has a gazillion hit points and hits like a truck, and this is a game that’s very unforgiving about how many hits you can take. You’d want to have a whole bunch of big guys in plate armour if you were going to push straight through. Possibly you could finesse it, but that would require a lot of creativity and an agreeable GM, because there’s not really that much you can do about a monster coming at you through a narrow corridor.

Oh, and the second two editions of the adventure comes with a bonus adventure called The Secret of the Skeleton Village. It was originally published in the company’s newsletter, Sinkadus, before turning up here. It’s kind of forgettable, so I’ll spoil the ending: the secret is that there’s a chest with gold and silver in it in the church. Which is guarded by skeletons. So… yeah. The only two things that stand out is that one, there is a reference to a priest casting a spell, which is a thing that only happened in the first edition, and two, there’s another mention of the chivalrous god Eledain and his noble knights. The latter actually gets picked up in a second-edition adventure, making it quite possibly the only example of consistent worldbuilding for the game’s original and rather sketchy setting.

Tvillingbergen (“The Twin Mountains”) is a more bog-standard dungeon crawl. The players hear a rumour that two bickering wizards were buried together with their treasure by their sons, who got along rather better and who later left the area. They investigate, and sure enough, there’s a tomb full of skeletons. And a ghost (this edition was big on ghosts. I think there was at least one in every published adventure). And also, the mummies of the wizards will rise and attack if you disturb one of them, but if you disturb them both at once they’ll both rise and attack each other, which is a fun touch.

Along the way, there are trolls, a newly introduced race called reptile men that were totally D&D troglodytes with the serial number filed off, some will o’ the wisps, and a couple of new spells that get dutifully described for player use. Also, the loot includes one of those demon weapons that were mentioned in the core.

I’ve actually run this one, but I got to admit that I nerfed the whole thing shamelessly to avoid killing my players. Because again, the NPC stats are kind of ridiculous. I kind of feel like there is a certain mismatch between the tone of the game, with its pleasantly pastoral Swedish Astrid Lindgren descriptions, lovably silly NPCs, and punny names, and the absolutely brutal rules. Like, I can get behind some dark and dangerous gameplay, but then I’d expect the setting to be described as less… cosy.

Still, maybe everyone just did precisely what I did, and scaled down the opposition to something the players could handle. Certainly I don’t remember the game as exceedingly lethal back when I played it. Of course, for some reason my players were always walking around in full plate armour and swinging claymores, so maybe I was just way too nice about starting equipment…

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