Dungeon Room Index: Audience Halls

Long overdue, we have Audience Halls.

This is a broad category it turns out, including such things as throne rooms, debate halls, courtrooms, and theaters.

Here are the rooms:

Playing to the audience

I've done something a bit sneaky here. I started with one sense of the word "audience" and by the end my ideas bled into the other. I started with the "audience with the king" sense--a place where one might get the chance to meet with some important person--and morphed to the sense of a place where an audience of spectators gathers for some purpose.

Underpinning both is the idea of a special purpose room where someone gets to speak their piece.

If your dungeon builders were at all social, hierarchical, philosophical, or theatrical, they might have had purpose for audience halls! These room would probably be situated at nexus points between "public" spaces (Great Halls and the like) and private spaces (such as Living Quarters). Important messages are passed and received in these rooms, or arguments are set forth, or performances are given.

Like most of the rooms I spend time with, these are often large and spacious rooms! Let's take a look at the examples.

Room Notes

Theaters

The simplest sense of "audience": a gathering of spectators

A simple stone amphitheater. The stage is small, suitable only to admit only a few performers--musicians perhaps, some kind of monologue or poetry, or maybe even an instructor of some sort.

A more dramatic theater, with a long stage that stretches into the middle of the room. Wide pillars support an upper story with seating nearly identical to the ground floor.
The protruding stage makes for a more immersive performance.

A more elegant theater, with a wide and impressive stage, and a tall curtain blocking off the backstage area. As with the last theater, wide pillars hold up an upper story with additional seating.
(It occurs to me now a theater with private box seating is a good idea as well.)

A simple raised stage in the center of the room. The surrounding pillared area allows for private conversation, and holds up a simple upper balcony to comfortably allow more spectators.

I do try to push myself to imagine unconventional forms of these rooms; this is a cavern forming a sort of natural amphitheater around a pool of water. What gatherings could be held here? And what sort of creature would occupy the spectator's attention? Perhaps this cavern is simply named for it's resemblance to more intentionally built amphitheaters.

Throne Rooms

An audience with an individual of great power and authority.

A simple throne room, the throne itself is elevated several steps above the petitioner.

This monarch's throne is situated high above on an elevated balcony, entirely disconnected from the main throne. This arrangement reinforces the high and holy station of the ruler.

The throne sits in the bosom of a great bust of the Weeping Mother, cradled in her arms--a reminder to all of the blessed lineage of their ruler.

A grander, larger throne room, with elevated outer halls tucked behind great pillars. Every footstep echoes across the flagstones on the long approach to the Throne's raised stage. A wide tapestry, depicting rays of divine light shining down, hangs behind the throne.

Two variations on a similar theme: the throne can only be approached by a series of rising terraces. Ministers sometimes kneel at small tables on these terraces, but always the ascent is like approaching a great mountain upon which the ruler is the pinnacle.

As similar throne rooms where the ruler is elevated, but with cascades of water to a central pool, dividing the monarch from the supplicant, and filling the chamber with the echoing sound of falling water.

This ruler was either to holy, too vain, or too self-important to look upon petitioners directly; instead, the throne is turned away, with large mirrors reflecting back into the pillared hall behind it.

On first entry, all that is visible is a great and noble statue of the ruler. When visitors reach the center of the room, and the best view from which to take in the excellence of the sculpture, the booming voice of their ruler's herald turns their attention back and up to the formerly hidden throne on the level above.

A simple wooden throne is seated before an array of deep and shadowed halls. Whispers in the dark give creedance to tales of an old and withered king who took counsel from ghosts and spirits.

A single, narrow platform hangs by heavy chains in the center of this wide, vertical shaft. Seated upon the throne is a stooped skeleton. Did the throne's occupant once live and rule from this strange position, or is this a king of bones and vermin, ruling in some form of undeath?

A dramatic throne room, consisting of tiered platforms rising out of a pool of clear water, where koi and lilly pads float in serenity. Platforms along the side of the chamber feature low desks where ministers and scribes record edicts and judgements.

Judgement Halls

Where the accused are given audience to defend their innocence.

A central arena admits a single occupant, brought hence wreathed in chains to make their case before the judgement of the Triune Hierarchs. A numerous horde of bureaucrats attend to every word, and repeat in chorus the pronouncements of the Hierarchs when signalled.

The prisoner takes their position on the dais to be cross examined, not by six men, but by six Great Beasts of Wisdom, each perched comfortably upon their balcony. To be found guilty is to be found in pieces strewn across the room--the Beasts are messy eaters.

There is no order or decorum in the judgement of the Mob. Every spectator may play the role of Prosecutor or Witness. The only Judge that matters is the collective will of the Mob, no matter how fickle or petty.

A tall, cylindrical chamber of stacked balconies. Each level is occupied by four judges who interrogate the supplicant to their satisfaction. If they are confounded, the judges of a higher balcony take their turn. The fourth and highest story is perpetually empty--the attendance of it's occupants are so rarely required that they just topped showing up.

A wide cavern with elevated terraces serves as the Place of Judgement. The Elders each take their place, seated on a comfortable mat of feathers and skins. Their purpose is not to judge Innocence or Guilt, but Tenacity and Spirit in those who are to attempt their Rite of Passage in the Deep Caverns.

Debate Halls

A challenger seeks an audience with an intellectual opponent. Sometimes an audience observes the debate.

Two narrow platforms rise precariously in the middle of the room. The adversaries stand proudly with no podium or railing for support and contend in their loudest voices. The winner is not simply the one with the most persuasive argument, but rather the one who maintains their position the longest--in some cases, a stubborn participant has been known to collapse from exhaustion, breaking their neck on the stone floor below.

Two rhetoricians enter above and take their places at raised balconies. An audience of scholars look on as the Judge, seated at the forward table presents questions and evaluates arguments.

Two towers occupy the center of the room, each featuring a simple lectern. Members of the audience are invited to ascend to one position or the other and defend a proposition to the satisfaction of the Arbiters. Those who impress may hope to be invited to the Inner Circle, and eventually challenge the Arbiters themselves.

I have double dipped. This simple stage is just as suitable a stage for a performance as for a debate.

Council Chambers

An audience with a governing body.

Councillors meet at a single, long table. Reports and testimonies are given by guests admitted on the west end of the chamber.

Councillors meet at a round, open table, and admit testimony from the center area. Statues of venerated leaders adorn each corner of the room.

The council stands around the Empty Throne--a reminder of where there authority came from--and give audience to all who would beseech them as visible stewards thereof.

Miscellaneous

When a proclamation is to be read, all are gathered to the ground floor of this room. The Herald enters from above, takes the central stand, and in their loudest voice recites the proclamation from memory. Then, all return from whence they've come.

A powerful and dangerous Being hangs in a cage laced with runic charms and wards. When great wisdom is needed, this Being is importuned for an audience. Everything this Being says can be utterly relied upon, yet it's every word is calculated to orchestrate it's future escape from captivity. This must not happen.