New Dungeon Masters

“How big exactly is a giant?” Zugg’s player asked me one day as he sketched on a pad of graph paper and wrote notes in the margin.

“I don’t know! Like … 4 squares? Maybe 9? Does it really matter?” I responded and questioned, clearly annoyed that a human was bothering me before noon.

“Well I want to know exactly how big so I can plan my dungeon.” He sounded a little exasperated but I was used to that.

“Oh my god you are the dungeon master. Giants can be any size you want. It’s your game.”

I rarely ever consult monster manuals or the dungeon master’s handbook.

Does this lead to instances of inconsistency at my table? Sure. That’s happened. I have a player who loves to tell me when a new rule I have contradicts or alters a rule from three weeks ago. And that’s fine, I’ve been doing this for six years now. I should know better than to let illusion magic do something one week and something different another.

But new dungeon masters? They have a bit of freedom starting off. If Zugg’s player wants to have a dungeon with giants that are fifteen feet tall or ten feet tall or even twenty-five feet tall then that’s up to him, in my opinion. The word giant is broad enough in my mind to allow for some height wiggle-room.

Making your first dungeon is a right of passage for many new dungeon masters. It may not be the first time you’ve put graphite to blue and white grid paper but it could be the first time other humans ever see how weird or strange your map is. It may be the first they’ve heard of your room randomizer chart or it may be the first time you’ve had to improvise an accent on the fly and you went with valley girl for your prostitute (no seriously, this happened, no accent shaming).

The problem is that relying on strict rule interpretation or implementation can be stressful and may even impede your ability to finish your dungeon and effectively run it. Constantly checking some arbitrary rulebook so you know the exact DC for a treasure chest needle trap is waaaaaaaaaaay too much work for your first dungeon. Don’t know it off the top of your head? Make it up. If it turns out to be too high when the rogue actually goes to disable the trap and they rolled like a 19 then your trap may have been too difficult for the party and you’ll have to scale.

My point, rambling though it may be, is that you are the fucking dungeon master. The god among peasants. The word master implies a lot about your rule regarding this dungeon. If illusion magic isn’t working for you that week, tweak it. Do you want there to be a new trapped scroll paper that explodes when a wizard tries to use it? Do it. Laugh while they burn, too. It unsettles people.

Is it list time? I think it’s list time.

• You. Are. The. Dungeon. Master. Whether you’ve been doing this for six years or less than a week. You are the arbiter of a world you keep locked in your head, a world that only you truly understand or comprehend and can never seem to quite explain to the people sitting around your table eating your pizza and drinking your soda. The rules are helpful guidelines set forth by prophets of the tabletop world but they are not gospel at your table. You are.
• Magic is magic. Seriously, it’s magic. It can do anything. ANYTHING. It can explain any trap you want to have in your dungeon, any artifact you want to give to the players, any weird race that has shark fins and pedipalps and for some reason talons. Make magic work for you, don’t let it be an anchor keeping you from doing the cool thing you want.
• Wizards in the past were just better. Why can’t your party members do the cool things your dungeon or your undead archmage, or your +2 Sword of Soulmaiming can? Because magic users in the bygone, ancient eras were just the best. They were better magicians who could do cooler things faster and with more glitter and got to sit at the better lunch table. Ancient wizards get to go to the best parties and drink the tastiest drinks because they can magic better than current wizards. It’s the single greatest argument for why your magical traps can’t be made by the party.
• Sometimes monster manual monsters don’t work. Maybe they aren’t the right level for your party but you really want them to fight a hydra because hydras are cool? Change them. Or make a new template for them. Or create a Hydra-Lich who can manifest and breathe decay and rust to degrade the party’s armor. Why not? Because it’s not in the monster manual? Look at my first point about whether or not you’re the dungeon master. Are you still the dungeon master? Good. Make that Hydra-Lich permanently reduce maximum health, too. The party’s getting a bit too strong, don’t you think?

What’s my one rule? I rarely ever consult monster manuals or the dungeon master’s handbook.