Dungeon Room Appendix: Darkness, and Light

I had some thoughts that don't fit in the template of "variations on a dungeon room", yet which are quite pertinent to the larger goal of thinking about and conceiving dungeon rooms.

Today, that topic is darkness.

Into the dark

In a dungeon crawling context, darkness is practically a given. Just look at the success of Shadowdark, a game whose conceptual premise is that dungeons should be dark scary places.

I largely agree with this sentiment, at least in spirit. Undeniably, darkness adds something both aesthetically and mechanically to RPGs. 

First, it creates that classic (or shall we say "old school") mood of the horror-survival game, where encounters are often deadly, and dungeons are mysterious and threatening. Second, it creates an actual incentive structure around a particular form of resource management. Players need to track torches, always making sure someone has got one, and that it never goes out unexpectedly. This may or may not be terribly hard, but it takes a small chunk of inventory that could be used for other things, and the ever present need reinforces the ever present mood.

Even so, utter, unrelenting darkness gives me some consternation.

The problem with darkness

The typical configuration is that the darkness is hostile, and the players are outsiders in this dark, threatening place. Fine. This is largely desirable; I'm definitely a fan of this mood.

But, I'm also a fan of tactical infinity, and I must say it strains credulity that shivering torch bearers could ever expect to sneak up on something when they need light and apparently scary dungeon things don't.

See, if this game is supposed to encourage us to approach situations in more ways than just "we stab it", then it needs to make those approaches viable. One way this is accomplished is with reaction tables; the game master rolls and--surprise, surprise--this underworld denizen is merely wary of you, not outright looking to bite your throats out. That's great! It means you have a chance to talk to this thing, persuade or bribe it. Or maybe back up with your hands up and get out of here.

But, sometimes it doesn't make sense for that creature to be out for anything but devouring you whole; sometimes that's the obviously preferable explanation, and sometimes it would be nice not to find that out only the moment you turn a corner and walk face first into it. (Sometimes, of course, that's exactly how it should play out, and it's a delight!) But, sometimes, it would be nice if you saw it first. And that just doesn't make any sense in a situation where literally everything else has night-vision and you don't.

Methods for light in the dark

To that end, I propose some light in the dark. 

Now, I choose this phrasing quite intentionally. I don't just mean let's turn on the lights, baby! No, I mean let's thoughtfully, put a little bit of light in that darkness. Pockets of it. Places where you can temporarily stow that torch and finally get the chance to get the drop for once.

Indeed, the default setting of the dungeon may (and even should!) be darkness, but let's break it up now and again with some interesting variation. To do that, let's consider all the different things that could produce light in a dungeon or "dungeon" environment:

• Glowing fungi. Ah yes, a classic standby. Glowing mushrooms are awesome. Aside from being a total vibe, they can be a great fixture for weird potion making and other such nonsense.
• Glowworms. Yes, seriously. Ever seen those caves of silkworms that make the roof of the cavern look like the night sky? No? Look at it. That's pretty magical if you ask me. And this is a fantasy game, so magic is virtually required.
• Bioluminescent monsters. I made it this far talking about bioluminescence without saying "bioluminescence" but the jig is up. Seriously though, it's cool when nocturnal creatures glow in the dark. And maybe this time it's the monster that's waving the lights around making noise. A glowing butt works just fine, but if you're feeling adventurous, go for strobing patterns or something cool like that.
• Glowing Crystals. Use with care; while mushrooms and the like can be expected to glow without also necessarily being especially useful, glowing crystals really evoke "magic". Maybe they aren't, but the association just comes more readily.
• Shafts to the surface. Depending on how deep this place is supposed to be, it's not at all unreasonable that sometimes a crack through the stone above our heads should catch a whiff of day light. (Just a whiff.) Remember that part in the Fellowship of the Ring where they find *checks Google* Balin's tomb? Despite being who-knows-how-deep in a mountain there's just light practically pouring in. Now, it could be a direct shaft, or there could be some mirrors somewhere, or whatever, the point is it was awesome, and super moody. Dust motes in daytime, rain drizzles in the night--you can't really go wrong here.
• Magical lighting. Some of the deep, ancient places of the world are magical. And the Very Advanced Folks who built them were clever enough to install magical lighting. Whether it's an eternal shining lamp or glowing runes, they originally crafted this space to be illuminated. This sort of thing is very easy to handwave, and entering a great hall lit by a dim green shimmer is pleasantly evocative.
• ....Torches. Why not? Maybe some dungeon dwelling bipeds can't see in the dark either! But they live down here anyways, and so, they need some light! It could be torches, it could be jars of fireflies that conveniently drop and shatter when you attack them, whatever, it's light that intelligent beings are hauling around and preserving just like the players. And it's allowed if you ask me.

Aside from creating more opportunities for players to claim the advantage over monsters, I think one more benefit of leaning into some of these ideas is that it can actually reinforce the importance of dark spaces. I have had many dungeon crawling experiences where we eventually forget that we should be tracking our light; but when you enter and exit one of these limited light areas, its an opportunity for reminding everyone that we need to check our torch supply now.

Analogs for darkness

I love a good subterranean labyrinth, but admittedly, there are many things in the realm of RPGs that can fairly be called a "dungeon". (One of my own creations of which I'm most proud is actually a huge ruined library with about five floors. It's in a forest and has a massive tree that's outgrown the central atrium.) However, having established that darkness provides a very desirable element of dungeon crawling both aesthetically and mechanically, what do you do when a particular dungeon idea doesn't really support endless tunnels of pitch blackness?

Well, think about it this way: what is darkness doing? Fundamentally, it's creating a particular kind of resource pressure. Can we create other kinds of resource pressure?

Many things in RPGs can abstractly be viewed as "resources". A supply of torches is obviously a resource. But so is HP, or ability scores, or spell slots, or other kinds of items, like rations or water. So is time!

So, with that in mind, here are a few dungeon environment ideas that can play a similar role to darkness:

• Excessive heat. This dungeon is either in a very hot desert, or maybe a little too close to a volcano. Every hour, everyone needs to drink some water, or else take on some form of exhaustion.
• Excessive cold. This dungeon is somewhere especially frigid, like on top of a snowy mountain. It might not be dark, but maybe now torches are necessary to keep your fingers from freezing off. Alternatively, maybe it's necessary to consume rations every hour lest the body begins to shut down.
• Noxious atmosphere. The longer you spend in this dungeon, the more the poisoned air weakens the body. Again, some form of exhaustion penalty works pretty well. Perhaps there's an herbal antidote or similar that can be consumed at intervals to stave off this effect.
• Excessive humidity. The longer you spend in this dungeon, the more the humidity starts to seep into your inventory, spoiling rations and ruining equipment.
• Mosquitos are everywhere. And you need to reapply bug spray every hour or be eaten alive. I'm half kidding, but in all seriousness, if the punishment for running out of torchlight in the dark is near certain death, it's not totally insane to imagine wearing some kind of substance that masks your scent from a particularly lethal predator in the area (preferably something that the party can't simply dump all their special abilities into defeating)

Attacking the question from a different angle, darkness is a restraint on visibility. That can be a natural source of mystery and tension. Can anything else fill that role? The only idea that comes immediately to mind is thick fog or smoke. In such an environment, you might lean on monsters with especially good hearing. Just a thought!

Ultimately, maybe nothing is quite as effective or satisfying as darkness, but I hope I've at least shown that with some creativity, you don't have to completely lose the interesting benefits when you decide to set a dungeon in a crumbling citadel or a ruined temple, instead of deep underground.