Tuesday, November 13, 2018

GLOG Race Table: Gonzo Space Fantasy

So, as I mentioned in my post about Halloween in the Deep Carbon Observatory, I’m working on a hack combining Into the Odd and the Goblin Laws of Gaming. For the past few days I’ve been working on a GLOG-style table of races, and since it’s done, I guess I’ll post it here.


d8d6NamePerkDrawback
1
1
Human
Two Failed Careers
Disadv vs Mutation
2
3
4
5
6
2
1
Human
Two Failed Careers
Disadv vs Mutation
2
3
4
5
6
3
1Dwarf, BoozeBlood is AlcoholDisadv when Sober
2Dwarf, CandleBurn HP for Light, 1 HP:10 minSlowly Melt at High Temps
3Dwarf, Jumping30' Standing JumpSave vs Heights
4Dwarf, MoleSmell Metal within 15'Allergic to Copper
5Dwarf, Sea FloorHold Breath 8 HoursSink
6Dwarf, SpinnerSecrete 30’ Rope/Day20' Color Vision
4
1Elf, Amnesiac SpaceSTR +4, DEX +4, CHA +43 HP, not d6 HP
2Elf, BloodYour Blood heals HP 1:1d4 HP, not d6 HP
3Elf, ChitinArmor 1Save vs Molting when Stressed
4Elf, HairAnimate Own HairSave vs Bad Fashion
5Elf, SeaSpeak to FishYou Irritate Fish
6Elf, Silence1’ Radius Silence near HandsDeaf
5
1Copper KnightArmor 1Disadv on Stealth
2Cyborg 2d8 Beam 1/dayEat Coins to Recharge Beam
3DevilspawnIgnite Eyes, Arrowhead Tail 1d6Terrify Small Animals
4Dragonflyling1d6 Firesneeze 20’2x Fire Damage
5DryadDead Plants Bloom at TouchDisadv vs Electronics
6FacetakerEat heart to appear as person for 1 dayReflection is True Appearance
6
1FrederickTelepathy with FredericksIdentity Crisis
2GalateanPunch for d8, d10 HP, not d6 HPCannot Heal
3GiantEat Strong Heart to Grow 1d12 inchesSave vs Challenges
4GrayMove handful-of-coins-sized objects at 20'Disadv vs Insanity
5Half OrcExtra Attack after First BloodNo Legs (Start with Wheelchair)
6JackallingSpeak with Recently Dead 1/dayDisadv on Death and Dismemberment
7
1Many RatsPile of Rats, TrenchcoatScatter at 0 HP, become One Rat
2RooklingPerfect MimicryNo Voice
3SepiidalingAdv on Sneak when NakedSkin shows emotions under stress
4SharklingSmell Blood 200’Save vs Frenzy
5Skeleton, BeeBeehive in RibcageDisadv on Stealth
6Skeleton, ClockworkDon't EatMust be Wound 4 Hours/Day
8
1Skeleton, Vine1 hour Sunlight = 1 Ration2x Fire Damage
2SnakehairPetrify 1d4 rounds Gaze 1/dayHair is Argumentative
3TrollkinRegrow Limbs, ExtremitiesGain Mutation on Regeneration
4Twitch50' Teleport 1/dayTouching Iron Deals Damage
5WeasellingFit through any hole 8” wideSave vs Pocket Valuables
6Roll TwicePick One Perk from Two RacesGet Both Drawbacks

This table is intended for the tentative implied setting of Into the GLOG--gonzo space fantasy set in a system of moons around a gas giant. It’s called Moonhop, and it takes inspiration from FTL, Rimworld, and Kerbal Space Program. I’ll go into more detail later if I keep posting about it, but basically I like FTL’s soft sci-fi, Rimworld’s intentionally anachronistic technology, and Kerbal Space Program’s realistic orbital physics.

I spend a lot of time hanging out on the OSR Discord, and the people there were a huge help both in suggesting races and cutting the list down. If you want to see us hack out a system in real time, just head over there and hang around the GLOG text channel.

Saturday, November 10, 2018

Halloween in the Deep Carbon Observatory: a Challenge, a Session, a Debriefing

First: 

This is not a review. I like Deep Carbon Observatory a lot, and I recommend it if you don't have it. Most of the evaluation bits of this post focus on stuff that went wrong with the module rather than stuff that went right; that’s more due to what I tried to do with it than the quality of the thing itself. This post is more about planning out a session with DCO and reviewing what happened.


You can buy it here. The PDF is $10.00; the softcover is $13.30. 

The Setup: 

The Challenge:
I have four hours to run a Halloween oneshot for a group that normally plays combat-focused 5e. This is the opportunity to give the players a taste of wonder instead of spending four hours fighting through four rooms.

The Module:
Deep Carbon Observatory, specifically the final dungeon--the Observatory itself. It's an ancient ruin full of lethal treasure. A cruel band of NPC adventurers--the Crows--stalks the party.

The System:

You can download the version I used for the oneshot here. It's short, just 7 pages long, and covers character generation only. 

I'm working on a hack that combines Into the Odd mechanics with GLOG classes. This version is, like Into the Odd, classless, so there's way more Into than there is GLOG, but I'm going to keep working on it. The Failed Career table is based on James', and the Quirks table is a modification of one I collaborated on with the OSR Discord, which Saker Tarsos instigated and posted on his blog.

The Plan:

  1. Players generate their characters. Hopefully a half hour or less. Could be ten minutes if people arrive on time. 
  2. Read starting blurb about ancient kingdom with great powers, do best possible Cate Blanchett impression. 
  3. The players start outside the observatory proper. They were headed to Carrowmore; it was flooded. They ventured upriver to find the source of the flood. They were not the only ones (stragglers as replacement PCs + Crows). Eventually, they arrived here: A deep, black pit, with mirrored towers surrounding it, perfectly dry. At the bottom is a gate. Cue the music
  4. Run the observatory proper. The Last Thing is in room 39, as suggested. The Crows harass the PCs and try to steal their stuff. Hopefully they release the Last Thing and die horribly. 
  5. In the event of TPK before session end: Run Isles of the Dead (this step is implicit in all my sessions). 
  6. In the event that the players actually survive the Observatory and lose the Crows and the Last Thing, they can venture toward Carrowmore. 

They are not as spooky if you kill their friends before meeting them (Scrap Princess)


The Crows: 
Hooloch can reload and fire on the same turn and gets two melee attacks. Zolushika has a derringer (d8, exploding 6-8, 1-in-6 reload, melee range, last resort). The Snakewood Staff takes 1 Max HP/use.
They arrived a few hours before the PCs, opened the gate, scouted out the first room, then left and waited for someone else to come by and venture down. They will harass with zombies and special arrows every night, or attack in the Observatory if they see an opportunity.


All of that was written before I ran the session. No plan survives contact with the players.


I don't really want to do a room-by-room session report, so just take this player map instead

The Debriefing: 


In Summary: 
  1. Into the GLOG is a solid foundation
  2. I’m bad at horror
  3. The Observatory is not suitable for a single 4-hour Halloween Oneshot
  4. All the talk of randomly generated abilities encouraging player ingenuity is absolutely correct

Self/System Evaluation: 

  1. The Character Generation Packets (the Into the GLOG document above) were a resounding success. I printed out six copies and put them on the table; each player had their own. We were able to start playing in just a few minutes, and the characters were fairly interesting. The players definitely read the Player Advice page, although I don’t think they processed it fully. 
  2. I’m happy with HP calibration. Monsters get HD*8 HP and each “level” of Armor grants 1 Damage Reduction (see the rules doc for player HP). Monsters felt tough without taking forever to kill, and players were clearly in danger (two died, there were a bunch of lost fingers and one lost hand) but not unfairly so. I’ve struggled with balancing monster and player toughness for the entirety of my time GMing OSR stuff (about the last year), and this system was the first to feel really good. 
  3. I tried classic “both sides roll a d6, whoever rolls higher goes first” initiative, and I think I still prefer the GLOG style of “everyone rolls an initiative check; anyone who succeeds goes before the monsters.” I’m already fairly lenient in terms of allowing players to ambush things, so having every player act at once even in regular combat is too swingy for my tastes.  
  4. I don’t really know how to handle players asking to attack things outside of combat yet. I had them just roll for damage like regular Oddomatic attacks, which worked out okay, but didn’t feel great. I probably should have allowed the players to just execute the guy in the Razored Lock, but I had them roll for damage twice instead, which was weird. Screwing with the ooze automatons led to a couple of similarly difficult rulings on “fighting without entering combat”: How do I handle the automaton grabbing for a jar out of a backpack? How about players shooting the jar out of its hands? What I did was have the player make a STR check to avoid being grabbed, and when they failed I had the automaton just take the jar out of their backpack, and that felt alright. When they wanted to shoot the jar out of its hands, I just said “you shoot it and it shatters,” but in retrospect I should have given it “Damage Reduction 3, HP 1” or something to model the automaton trying to protect it. 
  5. I forgot to implement reloading for pistols, which in theory makes them a decent chunk more powerful than regular melee weapons and much stronger than bows, but in practice--in the context of a oneshot where players didn’t have the opportunity to shop--it didn’t really matter. People who started with guns used them; people who started with bows or daggers used those. 
  6. I’m not confident enough in sad/scary things to run them well. Specifically, I feel awkward describing things seriously instead of in a lighthearted tone; I’m not confident in my descriptive abilities. Hopefully I'll be able to practice this and it'll help. 
  7. Using a speaker for music didn’t work out very well; we were playing in a room with 5 other groups (it's a large club), so the background noise basically forced me to keep the music down in order to be heard. The playlists were also a bit short. 20 minutes of exploration music probably isn't enough. 
Cane Threadington, his argumentative tattoo of his ex-wife, and his blood, which is spiders

DCO Evaluation:

  1. The Observatory itself isn’t really scary. I know that information is in the module, but I foolishly thought I could make it scary and it wasn’t. It’s a series of rooms full of great dangerous toys and NPCs, but without the context of the trip upriver and the dam and the lakebed I don’t think it had a properly eerie feel. Player feedback indicated that, too; there were a couple things that were a bit creepy, but the players mostly just attacked them. They didn't reach the Last Thing. 
  2. The Observatory itself is too long to run in a oneshot, at least for me. We got a bit less than halfway through in about 3.5 hours of play. They explored most of the right stalactite, ending at the Book Elf Woman. 
  3. The players killed the guy in the Razored Lock and the mushroom dudes, which may have damaged the horror feel early on. 
  4. My mapping player was able to map the vertical dungeon fairly well, but I think the players' vision of the space they were in was harmed (I’m not good enough at description to improvise the horizontal layer, I don’t think). 
  5. As far as I can tell, the Observatory does not/should not have random encounters. Without random encounters, I didn't think to track light-time, and without tracking light-time I didn’t think to track light-radius, which is itself made worse by DCO’s vertical map. This was a oneshot, so ultimately all of that was fine or even good, but I think it’s still important to note that all of those concepts are strongly linked. I need to consider them together in my regular campaign. 
  6. My players LOVED the scales. They spent maybe about an hour real-time goofing around with them. They used them to identify ghar’s crossbow bolts, figure out their own character traits, compare how cool two PCs were (had to be settled by IRL arm wrestle), assess the magicalness/dangerousness of various objects, and probe the moral opinions of the scale (they learned that it doesn't think very highly of souls or freedom). 
  7. They obsessed over the Cervit ceramic plates for a while without discovering what they actually did, and they didn't think to ask NPCs what they did. 
  8. I ran the Crows in a somewhat forgiving way, since with Oddomatic attacks and a party used to direct-combat 5e the players would have just been crushed. They were able to ambush and kill Ghar and Zolushika, but the other two are still at large. The players were a little bit creeped out, but without the history of the journey upriver I don’t think the Crows were anywhere near as scary. 
Roxas Carter, Pirate King, who can mix oil and water, with an animated zombie hand taped to his right stump, wearing a crabclaw over that, wearing a shield, holding a magic arrow. There's another guy borrowing his eyepatch. And he has viking horns. And two peg legs. And a gun. Honestly, there's a lot going on here. 

Player Stuff:
  1. Using the Scales to identify Ghar’s crossbow bolts. They were able to get keywords like “hallucinations,” “ensaring,” and “scrying”
  2. Using the quirk “you can mix oil and water” to mix oil into the water-based automaton oozes and burn them for lots of damage
  3. Ghar shot one of the players with his eyeball-seeing arrow, and then that player took another player’s eyepatch and put it over that eye for no reason in particular, allowing them to ambush the Crows. They then found the mirror, displaying fabric (they thought it was the inside of a pocket), and then later when they checked on the player’s eye I told them that the mirror was showing what he saw (over the course of a couple exchanges). They were amused that they had accidentally thwarted the spying attempt.
  4. When they found the alien plant biospheres, the only player in the room said “I drop it on the ground at my feet.” 5d6 damage, Save for Half: They lived through that incident with 2 STR (and some lost fingers) but later died.
  5. Welded automaton fingers to the iron palms of the person who dropped a bomb on themselves. 
  6. Animated a zombie hand, tied it to the stump of another person who lost a hand, put a crabclaw on top of that, and put a shield on the whole thing
  7. Two characters died during direct combat with the silk golems/silk tapestry, because they basically just traded blows and lobbed alien plant biospheres (and rolled poorly).
  8. One of the players—someone new to TTRPGs—walked in like a zombie, and said “I feel like crap, guys, so I might leave early.” As the session went on, however, she perked up, and played the whole time. Furthermore, she was one of the people whose character died, and after the session was over, she said “I really liked switching characters in the middle.” The OSR Works™.

Left to right: Uliczny Magik, Sometimes Invisible Street Magician; Black Brady Barnacle Butt, Iron-Palmed Pirate (Deceased); and "Tinman" Smith, Telekinetic Forester. There were some other characters, but these are the ones with art. 


















Plans for the Future:
So, this group is probably not coming back to DCO. We normally play 5e with a different DM, and we only have a few sessions left, so we're probably just going to keep playing through that campaign.

If I run DCO again in the future, I’m going to expand my music selection, run it in a quieter room, and run the entire module. If I run another Halloween oneshot, it'll probably be something campy rather than scary.

Otherwise, I’m going to keep working on Into the GLOG, write up some classes, and go back to running non-horror stuff with my regular group.

It turns out that posting weekly is too often. Things will be sporadic.  If you want to hear about stuff early, hang out on the OSR Discord

Friday, October 5, 2018

MUSIC DRAGONS

Dragons are great.  They should have great noises. 


Other smart people have written a lot about dragons already. Beloch Shrike wrote a post about constructing them, Skerples wrote several posts about a precarious kingdom of dragons, and Arnold K wrote some about a precarious family. My dragons have a little bit of Patrick Stuart’s Spectre of the Bröcken in them as well. These posts are my basic model for dragons: they’re intensely magical, scary for everyone at every level, but conceivably so, and also all batshit crazy. They go on every long-distance travel and city encounter table. 

But my dragons are special, of course. Along with appearance, abilities, and hoarding, I add something else to the mix:

Instrumentation. It can telegraph a dragon's strengths or weaknesses, even before the players see it. 

It also lets your players know that they're not in Magic Kansas anymore. 

Dragons have the strongest souls. They’re more real than everything else; the universe likes them, reshaping itself to their whims, letting them fly and breath fire even though--according to all known laws of aviation--those things are ridiculous. The universe also likes adventurers a lot. Who does it like the most? Bards. 

That’s not a coincidence. Bards stole music from the dragons, and with it, they made the universe like them, too. The dragons are still pissed. Before, each dragon had their own unique instrumentation, but then those filthy humanoids came along and started mucking things up, duplicating instruments and forming ensembles. 

Now Some More Detail 


Name: What it calls itself and/or what people call it
Appearance: What it looks like
Instrumentation: The noise it makes as it moves
Personality: How it behaves
Weakness: Vulnerability and effect on dragon
Minions: Lesser beings serving the dragon. Kobolds and dragonborn were other creatures who came to the dragon offering servitude; the dragon ate them, remaking them in its image as servants or warriors. 
Hoard: Types of thing it hoards. Will not attack if offered an item for its hoard, no matter how shitty it is

HD: Number of d8s, rolled for HP
Armor: In terms of equivalent armor (Leather/Chain/Plate/Plate and Shield)
Move: In multiples of the standard human movespeed, assume 1x Ground if unlisted
Attacks: Attacks separated by a slash can all be taken on the same turn, and OR means the dragon must choose. Breath attacks are always “OR” attacks
Breath: Special attack, most often breathed out. Recharge is chance to be able to use its breath 
weapon at the beginning of each turn 

"wy do all mi shep keep dyin aftr som days, gotta steel som mor" (Kou Takano on ArtStation)

Name: Nameless, known as The Devourer
Appearance: Large-cottage-sized, verdant green, fairy tale dragon, the sort knights might slay
Personality: Bestial. Roughly understands language but doesn’t deign to speak
Weakness: Coordination is confusing 
Minions: None
Hoard: Small houses, Livestock. They die after a few days without food, frustrating The Devourer. It never eats the livestock in its hoard

HD: 10
Armor: as Plate
Move: 2x Fly
Attacks: 1d8 Claw/1d8 Claw/2d10 Chomp
Breath: 60’ 60 degree cone, 3d6 Fire Save for Half, Recharge 2-in-6. Spectacular movie fire

They call it the Devourer. It swoops down every few days and carries off cows or entire sheds, leaving burned wreckage where the townsfolk tried to fight it. It would be better for everyone if it had someone to tend its flock, but nobody has seen the state of its hoard besides the dragon itself. 

Season with Mustache to taste (How to Train Your Dragon)

Name: Ludwig
Appearance: Size of a small dog, bright yellow, snake-like, snobby mustache
Personality: Egotistical snob. Particularly detests music that isn’t classical
Weakness: Takes double damage from Sneak Attacks
Minions: Network of rat-sized kobolds spread throughout an entire city, scouting out performers, and Dragonborn performers
Hoard: Sheet music and performers, who are 50/50 on willingness to be part of the hoard regardless of status as dragonborn, kobold, or unconverted

HD: 4
Armor: as Plate and Shield
Move: 2x Fly
Attacks: 2d6 Bite OR 3d6 Poison Bite on Sneak Attack
Breath: Eye contact, 3d4 Silent Ignition, no Save, Recharge 6-in-6, interrupted by damage. The dragon stares at you and flames leap from your body

Ludwig has been kidnapping musicians for 10 years now. Its orchestra is nearly complete. The violinists are excited to perform because they’re very good, the violists are excited to perform because they haven’t done that before, the cellists are weaponizing their bulky instruments in preparation for a rebellion, and the bassists are getting ready to raft out on their instruments. Ludwig is a terrible conductor and any performance he leads will probably end in violence. 

Like this, but with fewer legs and more unidentifiable excrement and lethal electric charge (WoodsOfOld on DeviantArt)

Name: Pypewyrm
Appearance: No legs, six inches thick around the body, hundreds of feet long, mostly in pipes at any given time. Would be electric blue if it wasn’t caked in mud and feces
Personality: Hissing suspicion, always hungry
Weakness: Smell of good cooked food is irresistible 
Minions: None
Hoard: Cooked food, especially baked goods. It rots constantly, frustrating the dragon. It never eats the food in its hoard

HD: 8
Armor: as Chain
Move: 2x Slither Through Pipes
Attacks: 2d6 Bite
Breath: Electrically charged body deals 1d6 damage to attackers using bare skin or metal weapons 

The Pypewyrm lives in the sewers below the city, stealing and gathering as much food as it can, unbeknownst to the citizens it slides beneath. It will soon learn the location of the city’s bakery, the most decadent in the country. This will be too much for the Pypewyrm. 

There's not really anything I can add to this (Real Truth on tumblr)

Name: Gunshow 
Appearance: Elephant-sized, firetruck red, bulging biceps, capable of short-distance bipedalism for showing off
Instrumentation: Snare drums like gunshots 
Personality: Swaggering jock, flexes biceps as punctuation
Weakness: Always responds to immediately-fulfillable challenges (dares)
Minions: Kobold pyrotechnics experts, always ready with more fireworks and the occasional illusion-spell hologram/megaphone, and musclebound Dragonborn experts with hoarded guns
Hoard: All types of firearms, art of muscle-y things

HD: 8
Armor: as Plate
Move: 2x Ground
Attacks: 3d4 Punch/3d4 Punch
Breath: 200’ line, 2d6 exploding on 1-2 (regular Attack roll). Mouth opens snake-wide, brief pause, bullets pour out

Gunshow is going to host a sharpshooting tournament. Gunshow will try to A) rig its own victory, B) find a way to petrify the most muscle-y participants into statues, and C) kill the remaining participants, resisting spectators, and meddlers and take all the guns for itself. 

Do you see how majestic this is? The relaxed pose, the regal expression? Try to picture the opposite of this (Ciruelo Cabral)

Name: Postwald
Appearance: Twitchy, horse-sized, patchy white, salamander thing 
Instrumentation: Asthmatic accordion 
Personality: Gloating, pompous, stupid
Weakness: Plans always fail when Postwald is involved, one way or another. Postwald is also very foolish, just in general
Minions: Very intelligent, lethal kobolds. Masters of traps and deception. Single dragonborn named Bos, creaky storyteller. Worship Postwald as god
Hoard: Religious texts, secrets, criminals

HD: 6
Armor: as Leather
Move: 1x Ground
Attacks: 1d6 Flail/1d6 Flail
Breath: 30’ 60 degree cone, Save vs Overconfidence, Recharge 4-in-6

Postwald is a dragon in Skerples’ Veinscrawl, which is free and awesome and has a handful of other useful dragons. Postwald itself is a perfect example of the sort of incompetent villain I love most. The only thing I’ve really added here is its instrumentation: a wheezing accordion. Postwald and its minions believe it is the sound of Creation coming into being, naturally. 

Storytime


So when I first came up with this idea--musical dragons--I didn’t actually use it. I was still in the fairly early stages of learning to GM (well, earlier than now, anyway), I was playing just once every few weeks, and my players weren’t traveling above ground enough to get the “dragon” result on the random encounter table. As a result, my dragons—just Ludwig and Devourer at that point—languished in the back of my mind. The idea of musical dragons slowly faded for me, becoming bland in comparison to the other RPG books I was reading (Vornheim and Veins of the Earth, I think). 

Then, finally, they hit a dragon encounter: Ludwig, in the middle of the city. My players loved it. They were fascinated by the violin noises it made, and talked to it for a solid 10 real minutes before moving on. I was surprised by how interested they were in it. Later on, the same group of players met the Pypewyrm (they cooked some rats for it), and I think a couple of them started to figure out how I run dragons. Unfortunately, that group has scattered to the winds, but I’m hammering out a new group now and they’ll start running into dragons soon enough. If there’s a point to all of this, it’s to have confidence in your own ideas even after you let them sit unused for a while. 

Friday, September 28, 2018

I Kick Down the Door

Over on Chris McDowall’s OSR Discord, Chris Wilson said: “So I need to come up with 60-120 entries for a ‘kick down the door’ table for this slum generator thing.” The Lawful Neutral, Trampoclam, Sigve Solvaag, Wizard, wr3cking8all, and I responded. We wrote a lot of things, but “an answer to the prompt” wasn’t really one of them. Most of these entries aren’t mine, I just compiled them first, meaning that I am now legally the president of weird doors.

Roll in a panic when you don’t have material prepared, or use as the basis for a spooky House of Doors. Pro tip: You can roll d200 by rolling a d20 and a d10; use the d20 for the hundredths and tenths place and the d10 for the ones place. Treat 20 as 0.

A near miss with entry #1 (Scooby-Doo)


d200 “I kick down the door”
  1. Small family pet, back broken by the door’s impact
  2. The door kicks back
  3. Sentient doors; having killed the king, you are now their leader
  4. Dead plague corpses, Save or Die Slowly
  5. Gentrifying elf hipsters
  6. Massive sentient syringes jamming tiny humans into their arms
  7. Another door. Then another. And another one after that. This entire building is doors now
  8. Shop that sells doors. They don’t go anywhere
  9. Shop that sells doors. They all go to the same place
  10. Shop that sells doors.  Just mundane doors. Someone has to do it
  11. Claymore mine. Take 4d6 damage, Save for Half
  12. Outhouse 
  13. Pit to the Veins of the Earth
  14. Eyeball, angry and red after having a door kicked into it, part of the house
  15. Eyeball, angry and red after having a door kicked into it, part of a giant about to peek in
  16. Coffee shop for elephant people
  17. Sad clown in an iron lung
  18. Household infested with blood wasps; lay eggs in your wounds
  19. Inside of a bag of holding; possibly a hoarder’s home
  20. Dumping ground of all things forgotten in extradimensional space
  21. Scruffy man, scruffy wife, a score of scruffy kids. They sing “Every Sperm is Sacred”
  22. Skeletons clacking their pelvises together
  23. Old woman with too many cats
  24. Old woman with too many panthers (one)
  25. Old woman with too many panthers (way more than one)
  26. Sphinx with too many pet humans
  27. Cat with too many pet humans. The door has the words “stress management” scratched into it; the cat looks very smug
  28. Full of jelly. 50% is ooze, 50% is lime gelatin
  29. Single lemon on a pedestal
  30. Single lemon on a pedestal with a note taped to it. The note reads “I don’t want your damn lemons” and there’s a lit fuse on the lemon visible as soon as you can read the note; Take 3d6 damage, Save for Half
  31. Cat canning food factory. They make food out of cats 
  32. As soon as you kick the door open, another adventuring party kicks open the door behind you 
  33. Your own backsides; it’s a spatially twisted tunnel
  34. Wait, that’s not a door, that’s a mirror
  35. Wait, that’s not a door, that’s a mirror, but my reflection isn’t reflecting my movements
  36. Death and Dismemberment table. It’s like a horizontal spinning wheel, but with knives and saws and lasers everywhere
  37. Bakery specializing in prank bread
  38. Smaller door
  39. Table and 5 chairs. At each door is a prop piece of adventuring gear; a conical hat, a wooden sword, some daggers, etc. At the front of the table is a folded panel, a dusty tome, and seven dice
  40. Bottom of the ocean. Water doesn’t pass the threshold
  41. Bottom of the ocean. Water passes the threshold as fast as it can
  42. Drug factory
  43. First room of the building
  44. Post office. Everyone is inconvenienced now
  45. Postal office. Everyone is inconvenienced and in a bloodrage now
  46. Really convincing painting of a door on the wall; take 1d6 damage and sprain your ankle
  47. Lost Treasure of Alachamera. They used seashells as currency
  48. Teeth. So many teeth. Close observation reveals that it is all the same tooth
  49. Teeth. The teeth-shedder lurks in a corner. It sheds a tooth for every child it eats
  50. Fomorian strip club
  51. Mushroom people warren. Blue fog everywhere. Grow mushroom babies for weeks if you don’t bathe within a few hours
  52. Dining hall with the gravity reversed
  53. Dining hall with normal gravity, but all the furniture is nailed to the ceiling
  54. Public grindylow bath
  55. Crippled old man. He makes soup for urchins
  56. Crippled old sea urchin. It makes soup for men
  57. Entrance to the sewer
  58. Harem of the toad king
  59. Jesus of Nazareth in a dark room watching Kill La Kill on TV
  60. Soup kitchen of a snail woman. The soup is secretly her excrement
  61. Extremely fat man standing in a blown up kiddy pool and jogging in place. Two men stand beside him, holding buckets under his armpits
  62. Old woman knitting socks. She’s absolutely convinced that the entire party is her grandchildren
  63. Future ghosts of the party, they beg you to run
  64. Lumberjacks, standing shoulder to shoulder, shifting around nervously. 
  65. Crickets. Sing their song every time someone tells a bad joke
  66. Turns out it was an airlock, you’re sucked out into the cold vacuum of space
  67. Surprise birthday party for the person who kicked open the door. Attendees are everyone they ever killed. Very cordial and the cake is nice.
  68. Surprise birthday party for the person who kicked open the door. Attendees are everyone they ever killed. The cake is nice but the guests act exactly as you’d expect
  69. Thanos snapping
  70. People inventing things to put behind doors
  71. Uncounted monkeys with typewriters
  72. Monster fighting tournament, place your bets or bring a monster for good money
  73. Something belonging Outside is now Inside. There’s no explaining how it managed to get in there or why it was there in the first place
  74. Huge wheel that several humanoids are slowly cranking. They are making the planet spin
  75. Huge wheel that several humanoids are slowly cranking. They are preventing the city from spinning
  76. Rows of seats. A box emits light onto a wall, showing a distant land and forbidden love
  77. Money printers
  78. Man with very tiny loaves of bread, slowly toasting tiny slices in a tiny oven. His name is Melba and these are his toasts
  79. A mouth, it eats you
  80. A mouth, it says hello
  81. Fully functional textile plant complete with huge industrial looms. Apparently a legitimate business
  82. Miniature countryside with blue sky above. Watch out for the ant-sized people
  83. Department for natural science. Reportedly not a real science
  84. Someone important, kidnapped
  85. Someone unimportant, wishing to be kidnapped
  86. Cult of masochists
  87. Library, but all the books are really badly written fanfiction about the party written by the librarian. There are thousands of volumes
  88. Goblins
  89. Goblins experimenting with gunpowder
  90. Goblins experimenting with lasers
  91. Goblins experimenting with an iron man suit (they all get in at once) 
  92. Goblins experimenting with iPhones
  93. Goblins experimenting with a large steel wagon. They claim it travels through time 
  94. Goblins experimenting with goblins
  95. The Kentucky Derby
  96. The Tennessee Derby (not as popular)
  97. Bard with a guitar, she only plays Wonderwall
  98. Inside of a massive clam. The pearl is far too large to get through the door and worthless if shattered
  99. Asbestos
  100. Room currently being fumigated
  101. Full of chocolate. Angry orange midgets attack if you sample it
  102. Family of wereroaches. That was their last door
  103. Empty
  104. Room is a projection on a screen
  105. Door was actually a surprisingly poorly-painted facsimile of a door; how did you miss that
  106. Item you were questing for. Note on it reads “MacGuffin”
  107. Red herring flopping on the bare floor
  108. Brighter but otherwise identical copy of the last room
  109. Maternity ward for beholders
  110. Asylum for the clinically sane
  111. Humble, pious family have just sat down for dinner. Save or become socially obligated to join (the food is pretty good)
  112. Wall. It’s just a door and hinges nailed into the wall
  113. Your mother and childhood home. She invites you and your friends in and asks if you had fun playing at adventures with your pals
  114. Room is decorated with expensive paintings of the door you destroyed. There are trophies and medals on shelves proclaiming #1 door. Framed cross stitching declares “I’m nothing without my door.” An old man weeping uncontrollably
  115. Blockbuster, the remainder of the adventure takes place in the 90s
  116. Two wizards playing nine-dimensional rock-paper-scissors. There are at least 450 hand positions involved
  117. Throne of God. “On break” card on one of the arms; quite dusty
  118. Young man with long hair holding a boom box over his head
  119. A blue ball machine
  120. Peewee Herman’s playhouse
  121. Erotic movie theater with a man--is that Paul Reubens?--sitting in the back
  122. Footage of that one thing from Blood in the Chocolate is playing
  123. French Erotic Film. Terribly put together animation
  124. Man and six young boys all in khaki camping gear, around a fire, telling scary stories
  125. Man and six young boys all in khaki camping gear, around a fire, telling scary stories about a mansion built only of doors
  126. Picture of a black and blue dress. Wait, black and blue? No, it’s yellow and gold
  127. Big mirror on the wall, you see the camera man behind you for the first time
  128. Door kicking gang. They’re impressed
  129. Crash zoom to the face. Take 1d6 damage as the lens hits you
  130. Dungeon Master, looking awkward. This room hasn’t been prepped yet
  131. Cow-pig, describing the best way to cook itself
  132. Your foot adheres to the door as gravity shifts 90 degrees. Grumbles from inside as objects slide around
  133. You kiss the door and it turns into a handsome prince
  134. Universe sized battle scene from Gurren Lagann
  135. Sheltered underground town, also from Gurren Lagann
  136. Man turning into a walrus, screams for help and waves his tusks
  137. Foot goes through the rotten door but the door remains whole
  138. Illicit underground pit fiend pit fighting ring. Why the pit fiends have agreed to this is a mystery
  139. Throat of the Tarrasque
  140. Clitoris of the Earth
  141. Dachshunds in hotdog costumes waiting obediently in line to be eaten by a massively obese cat
  142. Safe injection site
  143. Entirely filled with used hypodermic needles
  144. Room is a hypodermic needle, you are injected into something
  145. Poverty elemental, turns your gold to dust
  146. Marmosets that were doing alright until just now
  147. Nunnery of repressed bdsm nuns
  148. Mom boss level from Binding of Isaac
  149. Dogs playing poker
  150. Walking into the door walks you back out into the hallway
  151. Innumerable unlabeled bottles of nondescript pills
  152. Red pill and blue pill
  153. Nitroglycerin factory, walk carefully
  154. Inside a wizard’s brain
  155. Army of tiny humanoids; their prophecies foretold this day. They are prepared
  156. Someone just farted in here and you can tell what they ate
  157. Disembodied butts. Farts every few seconds
  158. 18th century hospital flu ward. Save vs Flu
  159. Potion seller’s shop. His potions are too strong for you, travellers
  160. Stacks of bodies in spiderwebs
  161. Icky poor people. They smell and you hate them
  162. The physical representation of the wealth gap. On the other side, icky poor people who you hate
  163. The physical representation of the wealth gap. On the other side, icky rich people who you hate
  164. NPC the party previously screwed over; they blame them for their current door-themed predicament. They are right 
  165. Morbidly obese person grafted to couch filling room. Will try to bite you if you climb near enough their head 
  166. Cards Against Humanity. Winning white/black card pairs are brought to life
  167. Child with bleeding stumps of one leg and one arm, screaming over magic circle and suit of armor 
  168. Waluigi’s harem. All of the harem members are also Waluigi 
  169. Hoarder has summoned a being of pure chaos, currently being buried 
  170. Being of pure chaos, annoyed by its hoarder roommate 
  171. Rumpelstiltskin
  172. Being of pure chaos and being of pure law. They’re roommates and have divided the room with tape sitcom-style 
  173. Rumpelstiltskin angrily patching a hole in the floor which emits a sulfurous odor and a red light
  174. Snow globe depicting the Tunguska event 
  175. The players—not the characters—playing a TTRPG
  176. Snow globe containing the interior of a smaller snow globe, in the reflection of which can be seen an alternate dimension version of the person holding it
  177. Ben from the YouTube channel Questing Beast. If killed, all game mechanics from Knave or Maze Rats fade
  178. Entire building collapses except for the door 
  179. Entire city was a background panel and it falls over. Director yells at you to set the scene back up 
  180. Deli run by John Belushi as a samurai 
  181. Gaunt children in beds, tubes run from their bodies siphoning fluids
  182. Healthy children in beds, tubes run into their bodies injecting fluids
  183. Congrats, you found the room where the gong farmer keeps all of the gong 
  184. Save vs Sleep; if you fail, face the dream critter 
  185. Marzipan replica of the crown 
  186. All the royal jewels. All of them 
  187. Inside of a wooden horse full of soldiers. They are near victory 
  188. This room has good bones. If you wanted to flip it you would only need to make minor renovations 
  189. Black-market arms dealer greets you and motions to his wide selection of clasping hands, twitching biceps, and other appendages.
  190. Candlejack, don’t say his name or—
  191. Shrike is in this room. It was fun while it lasted
  192. Dad is teaching a room full of belts how best to hit people
  193. Door groans with pleasure when you kick it, requesting more 
  194. Door groans with pleasure when you kick it, requesting more. If you kick it again you are arrested for public indecency; it was a sting 
  195. Vampire running the Bachelorette. She eats the losers and turns the winner 
  196. Man named Hammond Rye being eaten. He looks inexplicably delicious 
  197. Door is actually a ninja behind a cloth disguise. You've kicked him in the grundle and a few dozen more ninjas come to his aid 
  198. Man screaming snake into a headset over and over. There are no snakes 
  199. Yuan-ti Union meeting; snake-arms on human bodies. They’re discussing how they got the short end of the stick, or would have if they were capable of holding the stick at all 
  200. Roll twice 
The House of Doors: The size of an outhouse on the outside. The first room has a sign indicating a knob and an empty square and another sign indicating someone kicking in a door and a knot of tentacles. Each room has at least four doors, and they're all arrayed in a grid (regardless of size). If you turn the knob on a door, the next room is always empty (unless previously revealed from another direction). If you kick the door down, roll on the table.

A clever player circumventing the fact that kicking a door opens it (The Shining)