The World's Largest Rewrite: Grey Horse, Devil Swine, and Normal Humans

Last time: The World's Largest Rewrite: Floating Heads, Mother Fungus, Cellipedes

#60: Horse. OK, yes, I jumped into this exercise without really thinking about how to handle the various mundane “monsters” in the OSE bestiary. I don’t want to overlap with mules and camels, so I’m going to dive deeper into the Monster Overhaul, my manual of choice, to populate this one.

The book includes an entry for a “grey horse,” a strange constructed thing in the shape of a horse that challenges travelers to make clever rhymes, eating their rations as punishment if they fail. The grey horse seems too benign to be a prisoner, and too capricious to be one of the jailers. I’ll treat it as an invasive species, but without explaining how it got here (the grey horse just shows up in places where it is not wanted).

#84: Normal Human. Ah yes, the most dangerous monster of all; the Normal Human. OSE defines them as “Non-adventuring humans without a character class. Artists, beggars, children, craftspeople, farmers, fishermen, housewives, scholars, slaves.” But they are also implicitly not bandits, or pirates, or nobles, or any of the other “monster” types in the OSE bestiary that are obviously humans, but have their own entry. Essentially this is what the modern game would call a commoner.

I think we have some Normal Humans here who are guilty of Abnormal Crimes. They’re probably not individually dangerous to adventurers; even the typical serial killer is more of an opportunistic-but-ordinary person, rather than someone with high levels as an assassin or something. These Normal Humans are like the prisoners in Con Air or the mooks in the Batman Arkham games. They are weak, but numerous. And they likely have some powerful leaders among them as prison bosses; maybe NPCs with classes, maybe actual monsters.

#106: Shark. Shark!! The shark brings us back to the submerged section of our dungeon. We want to distinguish a bit from the other monsters that have flooded (literally and figuratively) into the prison. Picking randomly among OSE’s three sharks, we get the bull shark, which can ram and stun prey for three rounds. This is a nice twist that you don’t really see from beasts in modern D&D. I like the idea of the bull sharks ramming prey as they pass through a transitory space like a submerged hallway. The hallways are navigable for the sharks but too narrow for the sea serpent, who is the alpha predator in the seawater sector. Stunned swimmers sink deeper into the depths, so attempting to rescue them presents further risk for their allies. The crabs clean up what the bull sharks don't eat, at the bottom of the halls, amongst the bones of failed prison escapees.

#70: Lycanthrope. I usually choose a subtype randomly, but in this case I am going to simply pick the devil swine, because (a. they’re much more evocative than the other, more standard lycanthropes, and (b. they’re evil, so they’re the easiest to explain as prisoners of celestials. OSE describes them as follows: “Corpulent humans who can change into huge swine. Love to eat human flesh. Lurk in isolated human settlements close to forests or marshes.”

A devil swine has 9 HD (!) and a charm ability. So these guys are not minor brutes, but instead dangerous bosses, and with their charm ability, probably a powerful faction in their own right. I imagine they’ve been strategically charming other prisoners to take over the prison and eventually try to escape. Relative to some of the other very archetypal monsters we have featured so far, “shapeshifting mind-control pigs” could really surprise players.

Another nice detail on lycanthropes is as follows: “Horses and some other animals can smell lycanthropes and will become afraid.” The grey horse and the mules are both aware of the devil swine and could help the players avoid them, or at least anticipate their presence.

#22: Chimera. Another folklore classic. OSE doesn’t provide any suggestions beyond a visual description. The Overhaul gives us more to work with, including a roll table that produces a chimera with a goat for the left head and hindquarters, a leopard for the center head and forequarters, and a newt for the right head and tail. It breathes poison gas and has no wings. Created by a wizard who is also probably interred here.

#26: Cyclops. It’s interesting to compare the OSE cyclops to one from a more modern-style monster manual. The OSE version hews close to the Odyssey; it raises sheep, is slow-witted, and possesses the ability to curse people. All straight out of the Greek lore.

The 2014 5E monster manual, by comparison, shunts this information into the flavor text, abstracting it away from the source myths. Consequently, aside from its poor depth perception, the 5E cyclops has almost nothing to distinguish it from the statistically similar hill giant, which is a shame, particularly because 5E has an abundance of interchangeable brutes like this taking up space in the book.

The Overhaul parsimoniously groups the cyclops with the giants, so we’ll roll there to get some more of an idea of what to do with this dude. The “Why fight these giants?” table produces “They keep growing larger. Soon it won’t be possible to harm them.” So this cyclops was getting bigger and bigger with no end in sight, and the magic of the prison keeps that magical growth in check. The cyclops may even be a willing prisoner here, worried that the prison’s weakening structural integrity will reboot their uncontrollable embiggening.

#7: Beetle, Giant. The fire beetle (a fantasy firefly) and the oil beetle (a fantasy bombardier beetle) are the famous ones here, but rolling randomly tilts me toward the Tiger Beetle (a fantasy… uh, tiger beetle). OSE tiger beetles “hunt robber flies, but sometimes eat humans.” The bit about robber flies is useful, as we haven’t placed those guys yet.

The real-life tiger beetle has a number of gameable features we can steal, including antlion-like larvae that burrow into the sand to trap prey; an ability to charge very quickly toward prey, but with the need to stop and visually reorient; and the ability to mimic the sounds of toxic moths so that bats won’t eat them. We can tie these guys to both the robber flies and the bats when we get those results. 

#100: Rock Baboon. Once again I’m charmed by old-school D&D’s “animal, but slightly weird” approach, contra modern D&D’s harder division between mundane animals (lumped together in the back of the manual) and fantastic monsters. The rock baboon is a pretty straightforward monster per the OSE entry, but I do enjoy that they “communicate with screams.” Same, rock baboon, same. How far can we take that? 

Perhaps relative to other creatures in the dungeon, the rock baboons are particularly good at communicating important information over relatively far distances. The primary danger when encountering a single baboon or a small group is that they will alert the rest of their troop, even if they are far away. The baboons could even be useful allies if befriended, facilitating long-distance communication (filtered through baboon-speak, of course).

#134: Wolf. The most interesting bit about wolves in the OSE entry is that they can be trained, and that goblins ride dire wolves. So we have two possible routes here; wolves trained by the wardens to police the prison, and wolves ridden by the goblins we haven’t seen yet. The next entry better serves the prior option, so I’m going to go with the latter and assume these are goblin-affiliated wolves. We’ll put the wolves near the hobgoblins and leave the door open for a greater goblin zone in the prison.

#10: Blink Dog. Apparently we’re in the dog block. In addition to their signature teleport ability, blink dogs are lawful and hate warp beasts. I think it makes sense to consider them servants of the jailers. Their blink ability would make them well-suited to capture, corral, or pursue prisoners without the prison’s physical barriers limiting their movement. Perhaps they’ve been left to their own devices since the prison has gone to rot. A first encounter with the blink dogs will probably involve them shadowing PCs or observing them from afar to take their measure. They could be powerful allies for PCs who earn their trust by containing monsters or stopping escapes.

The World's Largest Rewrite: Floating Heads, Mother Fungus, Cellipedes

Last time: The World's Largest Rewrite: Dungeon Is Wet, Tortoise Foreshadowing, and 30-50 Feral Hogs

 #51: Green Slime. This could again be interpreted as a connection to the dragon, but I don’t want to make an entire section of the dungeon oops-all-slimes. I’m instead going to put the green slime(s) below the pixies – in both senses of the word. We haven’t been very specific about verticality yet, besides some broad strokes, but I’m thinking that the upper left corner (where the fresh water comes in from the "roof") is near the top of the dungeon, while the lower right corner (where seawater comes in from the ocean) is near the bottom. I like the idea that the green slimes are forming on the ceiling on the level below where the dragon is, as runoff from its breath attack, and moving laterally through some point of connectivity that could potentially be exploited by explorers. 

#116: Stirge. I’ve got a bit of an order of operations going for responding to these random rolls. Some of these immediately suggest a fit based on what we’ve already established about the dungeon. Others become clear once I check the OSE entry and notice some evocative bit of flavor, or an ability I didn't know about.

If I need more beyond those two steps, I’m going back to the Monster Overhaul once again. The stirge (“skeeter” in Overhaul terminology) has a table for reskins that are mechanically identical, but very different in aesthetics. I rolled and got “Rotting floating head. Lank hair, no eyes.” This immediately sparked some ideas. Perhaps some number of the prisoners in this prison were executed by beheading, and now those severed heads are mindless blood drinkers, wandering the halls. I’m going to place them near the wights, on the assumption that the execution chamber would be near those undead wardens.

#137 Yellow Mould. No entry in the Overhaul, possibly because yellow mould is more of a dungeon hazard than a “creature” per se. It is also possible that its functionality is captured by the lavish two-page spread for myconids. OSE doesn’t appear to have myconids, so we can liberally use the Overhaul tables to figure out what is up with this yellow mould.

Rolling on the “spore attack” table, we get “fungal curse,” which means that a creature failing the save will eventually sprout a “mother fungus,” forming a new colony. I like the idea that this fate befell a prisoner who was interred here, and a new colony formed in the dungeon.

Riffing off this idea further, I imagine these fungi are somewhat like the mycorrhizal fungi that allow trees to communicate in some forests. Rather than a purely parasitic dungeon hazard, I like the idea that the fungi are symbiotic, and are probably a major source of food, exchanging (non-toxic) edible mushroom growth with other dungeon denizens for things they want (especially water and fertilizer). Because tiny fungal filaments connect many parts of the dungeon, they can provide information or facilitate communication. We’ll place the mother fungus near the fresh water, but assume that their filaments have spread to many parts of the dungeon where there is at least some moisture and not too much heat.

#21: Centipede, Giant. A classic, flexible dungeon monster that can go anywhere. OSE notes they favor damp areas, but we need to narrow it down further than that (remember, dungeon is wet). The Monster Overhaul includes both a monstrous vermin category, and another section for ancient anthropods. Going with the latter because it has an intriguing “why fight these ancient anthropods” table, we roll a prompt that “one of them ate the key to this chest.”

I’m going to tweak that and combine it with the other tables in the entry that generate weird head-shapes for these bugs. These “cellipedes,” known colloquially as the prisoner’s best friend, have evolved key-like protuberances on their heads. They are drawn to places like prisons; the more locked doors, the better it is as a breeding habitat for these sickos. They can be used to open some doors, and particularly rare specimens have a skeleton key ability, and are able to open many locked doors. 

#99: Roc. I love that OSE has giant roc, large roc, and small roc. Given that the roc’s brand is “very large bird,” I'm kinda skeptical that three categories were required. We don’t have manual entries for “tall halfling” or “non-animated skeleton.” 

OSE notes that rocs are lawful creatures who react negatively to non-lawful creatures, and can also be trained as mounts. So let’s associate them with the prison builders. We haven’t yet decided pinned down the builders’ whole deal, but for the prison to make sense as an adventuring site, it helps to presume that their authority and control has partially or completely lapsed. 

To put a twist on the roc here, let’s make it a big egg. Not every monster has to appear in its fully grown adult form. And finding an egg is a classic sort of unusual “treasure” for PCs; a player in one game I ran took a deep interest in the unhatched egg of a giant carnivorous parrot, which became a focus of downtime work for many sessions afterward. We’ll drop it near the wights, on the assumption it has or had something to do with the builders/jailers.

#78: Mule. Another mundane animal. My first thought was to make them a population descended from working animals when the prison was built, like the wild burros of the southwestern United States, who descended from domesticated donkeys brought to the area by prospectors. Then I remembered that mules are, uh, by definition not the type of animals you’re going to find breeding in the wild.

So we’ll go with a more ordinary explanation, and say that mules are survivors of adventuring parties that have entered the dungeon. Some of them have gathered here to dwell among their own kind. I like the idea that mules regularly appear on the dungeon's random encounter table as well, with each mule encountered giving hints as to the status (or final fate) of the adventurers who brought that mule into the dungeon. Mules also have a few useful sundry items on them ("found a mule" is local dungeon slang for a stroke of good fortune; more dungeons should have custom slang). An amusing recurring motif is mule-as-evidence of a TPK. Somehow the lowly pack animal always survives.

#65: Kobold. Our first humanoid! OSE uses the old-school characterization of kobolds, noting they are “canine,” while the Monster Overhaul goes with a modern take, describing them as "reptilian" and dropping them in the “dragon” section of the book. I’m sympathetic to Skerples on this taxonomic decision, given how much more prevalent that portrayal is these days, and I'll go the same route since I'm sticking to OSE where I can. But I cannot continue without mentioning that the very good boy Kuro makes a strong case for the canine kobold. I love the Dungeon Meshi portrayal, especially because “dogfolk” never really clicked in D&D the way tabaxi did. It’s a minor gripe, but I always thought the dogfolk in Thracia were the least interesting of the beastmen faction members.

…What were we talking about? Oh yeah, the World’s Largest Dungeon. Kobolds, regardless of aesthetics, are known for being numerous and individually weak, so I don’t think they make much sense as prisoners. Instead, let’s imagine they have entered the dungeon while delving underground. Did they get here intentionally or accidentally? Rolling on the Overhaul tables for prompts, we get “geckotian” kobolds (“sticky pads, marbled eyes”) with a current activity of “prodding a corpse” and “bucolic mushroom farms” as a current scheme. I think this is already more interesting than just making them dragon servants and calling it a day. 

Let’s say they entered the dungeon seeking the yellow mould mother fungus. Prodding a corpse suggests they are corpse retrievers (and possibly even grave robbers) because they’re gathering fertilizer to bring to the fungus. There may be some tension with the mother fungus; the kobolds ideally would like to domesticate it, while the mother fungus wants to infect them. So they want different things and are in tension, which is a good scenario for the PCs to crash into.

#59: Hobgoblin. The humanoid hits continue. Modern D&D treats hobgoblins as martial warriors, something like how orcs were originally portrayed. OSE reverts hobgoblins back to their earlier presentation, but that doesn’t give us much to work with, as they are just “bigger goblins,” a trait they share with bugbears. At least bugbears have the element of surprise. The Monster Overhaul (correctly) just folds hobgoblins into the orc category, which we’ll save for when orcs come up in this dungeon. So that’s no help. Hobgoblins, hobgoblins, what do you do with those hobgoblins?

It’s a thin sliver of lore, but the OSE hobgoblin entry does note that thouls sometimes serve as bodyguards to hobgoblin kings. If you’re not familiar, thouls are an infamous monster from early D&D that combines aspects of hobgoblin, ghoul, and troll, and probably originated as a typesetting mistake.

Perhaps we can make our hobgoblins more interesting by playing up the connection to goblins, ghouls, and trolls. Let’s say that hobgoblins are themselves goblins who are particularly susceptible to mutation, something already implied in other treatments of goblins. Mutation has made them bigger, for starters, but some of them have also been able to mutate into traits from other creatures. We’ll hold further specifics of their mutative powers for a future monster that hasn’t been placed yet. I’m also not sure whether they are prisoners, tresspassers, or something else. We’ll revisit that later.

#32: Driver Ant. Part of the fun of this exercise is looking at the stripped-down presentation of creatures in OSE. There’s a less-is-more vibe to these monsters. At first glance, driver ants are giant bugs with a standard bite attack and not much else to distinguish them. But on second glance…

• Omnivorous and rapacious: “Consume everything in their path, when hungry” – I feel seen.
• Morale: “Attack relentlessly, once they are engaged in melee (morale 12). Will even pursue through flames.”
• Gold: “30% chance of 1d10 × 1,000gp worth of gold nuggets, mined by the ants.”

So there are a couple of adventure vectors here. The ants are driven by hunger and can eat a lot of different things. We can imagine them chewing through barriers made from organic material, invading and connecting different regions of the dungeon.

The morale aspect is compelling for games that use morale rigorously. One of my biggest complaints with modern-style play is the strong presumption that every fight only ends when all the monsters are dead. When I run games, I stress how advantageous it is to compel monsters to flee or surrender, rather than slaughtering all of them because of video game logic.

Contrasted with our expectation of how morale may quickly end a fight against hobgoblins or kobolds or mules (please, do not fight the mules), a monster that goes into a 12-morale frenzy when you melee with it is a big problem. PCs who study their behavior could distract them with food, pelt them with arrows from a distance, or trick other monsters into fighting them. But also… the ants may have gold in their lairs. So there’s also a strong incentive to risk engaging with them further.

#135: Wraith. This is our first incorporeal undead. OSE notes that they “Dwell in deserted regions or in the homes of former victims.” I think this suggests that they are prisoners, perhaps murders or other capital criminals who persist after death, but are trapped in the "deserted region" of the prison. 

We had previously decided that our wights could be guards. Perhaps part of their role is to guard the wraith prisoners? The OSE SRD description of energy drain doesn’t specifically state that it wouldn’t work on undead, but it follows logically from the flavor of the power to say that wights would be immune. 

Next time: The World's Largest Rewrite: Grey Horse, Devil Swine, and Normal Humans

The World's Largest Rewrite: Dungeon Is Wet, Tortoise Foreshadowing, and 30-50 Feral Hogs

Last time: The World’s Largest Rewrite: Salvaging the Core Idea From a Megadungeon Disaster

#104: Sea Serpent (Lesser). Why “lesser”? There is no “greater” sea serpent in the OSE bestiary. Regardless, it is a chance to carve out a water area separate from the giant catfish's pond. One of the big problems with the original WLD, relative to megadungeons like Arden Vul or Thracia, is its flatness; most good megadungeons are three-dimensional, and defined as much by their depth as their breadth. 

We won't worry too much about specifics just yet -- the diagram I posted at the end of the last post is for abstracted, relative positions. But lets assume the lower parts of this dungeon are flooded with seawater, and this was an Alcatraz-style island prison before it became an adventuring site. I like the idea that this part of the dungeon is a possible escape route, but made dangerous by sea creatures that have made their lairs here. The serpent is tough enough to dissuade most of the nearby prisoners from sneaking out this way. The black dragon could probably kill the serpent, but it is too big to fit through the underwater tunnels (and the seawater dilutes the acid too much for it to corrode its way out).

#24: Crab, Giant. Conveniently showing up right after Sea Serpent, we’ll build out our ocean depths a bit more here. We’ll put the crabs a little closer to the core. They scavenge what the sea serpent doesn't eat itself, and are also occasionally consumed by it.

#18: Cat, Great. Rolling randomly for the sub-types once again we get… sabre-toothed tiger. Hell yeah. “Normally only found in Lost World regions.” OK. Maybe part of the purpose of this prison isn’t just to house criminals but also to preserve lost wildlife that no longer exists out in the world. I’m going to put the tiger near the nobles and the catfish – he’s been drawn to the fresh water and stalks the area nearby. There may be a supernatural zoo sub-theme we can explore with other entries.

#81: Nixie. Yeah, nixies are going to require some more dungeon infrastructure and background to explain. I’m beginning to think that entire prison is not just an island, but also overgrown and covered in natural growth on the top, including a large body of fresh water. The nixies were washed in here when the water eroded through the dungeon's ceiling and flooded several regions. The lake where the giant catfish lives is a terminus, but the nixies control the river flowing into it. They’d like to claim control of the lake, but the giant catfish is too big for them to deal with directly. They’ve probably charmed other humanoids, including a few of the noble’s retinue, and perhaps some others we haven’t placed yet.

#62: Insect Swarm. This could go anywhere, couldn’t it? We don’t need to explain why an insect swarm is in the prison, because insects just like to show up in places where they’re not supposed to be. I like how the OSE bestiary has such extensive procedures for encountering them. I’ll draw inspiration from one of those – the rules for escaping the swarm by “diving into water.” Putting them near the water gives the PCs an “out of the frying pan, into the fire” option that might send some of them into the arms of the nixies. I don’t want more bees, so we’re going to go with beetles instead. I think they’re actually plant-eaters and just want to consume the PCs clothes and other textiles, but adventurers won't know that, and their bites through the clothes still hurt!

#133: Wight. It’s interesting that OSE says these are “Corpses of humans or demihumans, possessed by malevolent spirits.” The 2014 5E Manual suggests they are more conventional undead, i.e., the evil spirit is animating the same body it occupied before death. The Monster Overhaul, my current go-to bestiary, emphasizes that “A Wight’s un-life is tied to an oath, a strong emotion, or the simple will to endure.” It has a nice random table of wight types. I rolled on it and got “Avenger.” Perhaps these are enforcers who swore an oath to the prison builders to hunt those who escaped their cells. The oath extends into un-life (oops) and they’re now doing this forever. I think the builders of this prison may be jerks. Per OSE, wights that drain someone of all levels create more wights, so these wights may be “recruiting” more hunters.

I don’t want a whole undead zone where they’re all clustered together, so I’m going to separate these guys from the mummy-zombie zone. We’ll place them in as-yet unexplored territory south of the ochre jelly zone. Mundane acid doesn’t harm them, so they’re safe from the jellies. Presumably they roam around looking for escapees, but their barracks are down there. 

#92: Pixie. OSE treats pixies and sprites as separate things, and while the latter has a bit of a hook to it, pixies are quite boring. The Monster Overhaul lumps them together, but does include some extra flavor we can tap. They are often invisible and have a mercurial, forgetful nature. I like the idea that these invisible troublemakers were accidentally captured when some larger, more important prisoner was detained. That could place them almost anywhere, but the bigger the monster, the more plausible there presence here. I believe they are kind of Tinkerbelling or Jiminycricketing the dragon. The dragon probably finds them annoying, but hasn’t dissolved them yet, because their polymorph ability might come in handy at some point.

#36: Elemental. Picking randomly, we get fire elemental. OSE emphasizes they are summoned servants. Of the prison builder perhaps? I need more detail, so checking the Monster Overhaul, we get some excellent flavor and tables. The “who summoned this elemental?” table suggests tortoise tsar, a Monster Overhaul original, who has some fire-based powers, so fire elemental fits. The tortoise tsar isn’t part of my original conceit of using the OSE bestiary, but I can merge him with the dragon turtle entry. We’ll plan to revisit this situation when we roll up dragon turtle / tortoise tsar and figure out what is going on here.

#15: Caecilia. It’s OK, I had to look it up too. It’s an amphibian that looks like a snake or worm, although OSE’s are 30’ long. To take stock here, all of our monsters so far fit into one of the following categories:

• Prisoners or "zoo" animals
• Invasive species or other intruders
• Guardians or servants of the prison builders
• Creations of other creatures in the dungeon

I want to avoid putting all the monstrous animals in the second category. The prison should still feel prison-like, and not be completely overrun by creatures from outside. I think we’ll say these are prisoners, like our sabre-toothed tiger. Like the big cat, they’re extinct in the outside world (probably for the best – 30’ long, yikes!) but they live on here in the prison. 

#11: Boar. As I said, there’s a lot of beasts in this bestiary. I’m going to tap the Monster Overhaul for inspiration again. It has a table for “local boar crimes,” which is too good to pass up. I rolled “ransacked a granary.” And I note that the Overhaul suggests boars are “as smart as most people.” I like the idea that the prison builders decided these 30-50 feral hogs were smart enough to stand trial for their crimes, just like people would. So they’re prisoners here, recently escaped from their cells, but still trapped within the larger prison. This could go in a sort of Silent Titans direction.

Next time: The World's Largest Rewrite: Floating Heads, Mother Fungus, Cellipedes

The World’s Largest Rewrite: Salvaging the Core Idea From a Megadungeon Disaster

I recently read an exhaustive review from 2013 by oriongates of the World’s Largest Dungeon (WLD for short, hereforth), a megadungeon released for D&D in 2004, at the height of the d20 OGL publishing era.

The product’s gimmick was that it was bigger (and more expensive) than any other dungeon of the time, and that it included every type of monster in the game. This is good advertising and bad design. Reading oriongates’ exhaustive review, it is clear that much of the size is wasted on repetitive, purposeless rooms, and that many of the monsters are shoehorned in to meet the product’s central conceit, rather than appearing because they present interesting challenges and opportunities to tell the story of the place and give the PCs compelling choices for exploration. Compare this to something like Arden Vul (more modern in publication date, more old-school in approach) where the size, shape, and populace of the dungeon is very deliberately communicating something, rather than trying to hit an external, artificial objective.

The WLD would be a mess in any system, but it is particularly ill-suited to D&D 3.5E, where monsters and magic have particularly detailed and complex abilities and mechanics. At least a B/X game could reduce this kind of enterprise to minimalist keys, in the style of Palace of the Vampire Queen. Anything in the D&D-3.5E world has to deal with huge stat blocks and include contingencies for super-powered characters.

Trying to fix this abomination is a fool’s errand. In their review, oriongates mentions trying to do so, but later giving up, and I think that’s the right call. If neither the map nor the lore nor the factions nor the NPCs are really anything to write home about, why would anyone think it was worthwhile to fix? 

I mean, these people somehow delude themselves into thinking it might, but ... But it might work for us.

Update (June 2025): I started writing this post (and subsequent posts about the WLD) in early 2025, and it was mostly done by the spring. It turned out to be a topical exercise, as I later learned that a crowdfunded overhaul of the the WLD is in the works, and as of writing this update, has clocked nearly $700,000. The Backerkit page is extensive, and features lavish production design and a mountain of extras. It also features a long list of contributors with extensive RPG credits. 

While the product certainly looks nice, I am suspicious of language like "Massive in Every Way That Matters." The marketing still sounds very "woooah, Guinness Book of World Records!!" rather than "here's how and why this would be a compelling roleplaying experience." Sheer page count and taxonomic exhaustiveness cannot make up for what really defines a great megadungeon: a specific, gameable concept for an intriguing adventure scenario underpinned by an evocative milieu. 

That said, perhaps the team behind this effort decided that such nuances of dungeon design were simply not right for what is basically get-hype marketing copy, and they will quietly fix the original WLD's many flaws behind the scenes. It will be interesting to monitor the reviews when this beast comes out and see how it does. End of Update.

So, if we were going to try to make our own WLD, we could make life easier by first starting with a smaller monster list. D&D’s bestiary in the 3.5E days was huge, and featured some really weird, niche monsters that could not logically be packed into a megadungeon. Go back to something more fundamental. Start with a classic and basic bestiary, like the OSE monster bestiary. There are 138 monsters here. That is pretty manageable. 

Here’s a list of all those monsters. Look at 'em go!

1. Acolyte 
2. Ape, White 
3. Bandit
4. Basilisk
5. Bat
6. Bear
7. Beetle, Giant
8. Berserker
9. Black Pudding
10. Blink Dog
11. Boar
12. Brigand
13. Buccaneer
14. Bugbear
15. Caecilia
16. Camel
17. Carcass Crawler
18. Cat, Great
19. Cave Locust
20. Centaur
21. Centipede, Giant
22. Chimera
23. Cockatrice
24. Crab, Giant
25. Crocodile
26. Cyclops
27. Dervish
28. Djinni (Lesser)
29. Doppelgänger
30. Dragon
31. Dragon Turtle
32. Driver Ant
33. Dryad
34. Dwarf (Monster)|Dwarf
35. Efreeti (Lesser)
36. Elemental
37. Elephant
38. Elf (Monster)|Elf
39. Ferret, Giant
40. Fish, Giant
41. Gargoyle
42. Gelatinous Cube
43. Ghoul
44. Giant
45. Gnoll
46. Gnome
47. Goblin
48. Golem
49. Gorgon
50. Grey Ooze
51. Green Slime
52. Griffon
53. Halfling (Monster)|Halfling
54. Harpy
55. Hawk
56. Hellhound
57. Herd Animal
58. Hippogriff
59. Hobgoblin
60. Horse
61. Hydra
62. Insect Swarm
63. Invisible Stalker (Monster)|Invisible Stalker
64. Killer Bee
65. Kobold
66. Leech, Giant
67. Living Statue
68. Lizard, Giant
69. Lizard Man
70. Lycanthrope
71. Manticore
72. Mastodon
73. Medium
74. Medusa
75. Merchant
76. Merman
77. Minotaur
78. Mule
79. Mummy
80. Neanderthal (Caveman)
81. Nixie
82. Noble
83. Nomad
84. Normal Human
85. Ochre Jelly
86. Octopus, Giant
87. Ogre
88. Orc
89. Owl Bear
90. Pegasus
91. Pirate
92. Pixie
93. Pterosaur
94. Purple Worm
95. Rat
96. Rhagodessa
97. Rhinoceros
98. Robber Fly
99. Roc
100. Rock Baboon
101. Rust Monster
102. Salamander
103. Scorpion, Giant
104. Sea Serpent (Lesser)
105. Shadow
106. Shark
107. Shrew, Giant
108. Shrieker
109. Skeleton
110. Snake
111. Spectre
112. Spider, Giant
113. Sprite
114. Squid, Giant
115. Stegosaurus
116. Stirge
117. Thoul
118. Titanothere
119. Toad, Giant
120. Trader
121. Treant
122. Triceratops
123. Troglodyte
124. Troll
125. Tyrannosaurus Rex
126. Unicorn
127. Vampire
128. Veteran
129. Warp Beast
130. Water Termite
131. Weasel, Giant
132. Whale
133. Wight
134. Wolf
135. Wraith
136. Wyvern
137. Yellow Mould
138. Zombie

I’m going to randomly pick from this list and put it together as I go. There’s no reason to do this randomly. Randomizing it just makes this exercise more interesting. I mean I certainly don’t want to do this in alphabetical order. No “A is for ape, white as the snow; B is for bandit, after your dough…” No, no, no, absolutely not. Random it is.

Droning Bee by Eric Poslinski

#64: Killer bee. Let’s keep as much of the WLD conceit as possible and assume that this place is (or at some point in the past was) a prison. The OSE killer bees “build hives underground” (interesting) so something about this place attracted them when they were seeking a nesting site. We’ll decide what that was later. But we can definitely imagine a structure of beeswax and propolis that has repurposed and displaced parts of the original dungeon structure. This will give us a good opportunity to add some texture to the dungeon, right from the start; from oriongates’ review, it’s clear that too much of the WLD was plain gray stone.

#29: Doppelganger. The doppelgangers might be prisoners. Thracia has a good encounter with doppelgangers who have been imprisoned behind a sealed-up wall for centuries, which I suppose implied that doppelgangers are immortal and can't starve to death. Perhaps doppelgangers go into a hibernation state when no other sapient bipeds are nearby. Their cells have been covered in hive structure, but they may wake up if PCs or other people get close enough.  

#82: Noble. “Powerful humans with noble titles (e.g. Count, Duke, Knight, etc.)... Squire and retainers: Accompanied by a 2nd level fighter (a squire) and up to ten 1st level fighters (retainers).” OK, I like the idea that this guy and his followers are all prisoners together. Let’s suppose our noble is a Qin Shi Huang type who has done some pretty terrible stuff. The PCs can talk to him, and he will argue that his methods were necessary to unite a kingdom that will last long after his death. 

I like the idea that rather than this being a prison of unambiguously evil creatures like demons and liches, it is more like a real prison, with degrees of culpability, moral gray areas, and judgment calls on the part of the celestial jailers. The PCs will probably not find this noble to be particularly sympathetic… but they might! Or at least they may see him as someone worthy of a temporary alliance or truce. 

He’s here with a cadre of true believers who volunteered to go with him into captivity. Since I already established that the doppelgangers were not near other humanoids, I’m going to put this noble and his retinue on the other side of the bees. The noble and his retinue have been stealing honey to supplement whatever sustenance is otherwise available (we’ll decide later how creatures are getting enough food  to survive here). The killer bee hive provides a nice risk/reward opportunity for NPCs and players alike, since the honey can heal wounds… but the bees also, uh, kill, so it is a dangerous place as well.

#30: Dragon. We’re not messing around. Let's go right to the big guns. I agree with the WLD’s decision not to include every variety within a category of monster, so when we get these monster entries with multiple sub-types, we'll just choose one. I’ll pick randomly and get a black dragon. 

This particularly rapacious dragon has been using its acid breath to slowly burrow out of its cell. The prison was designed to resist this kind of escape attempt, but its structural integrity depended in part on maintenance and monitoring from the jailers, which has since lapsed. The dragon is patient, and it has linked up a number of cells around its primary domain. Like the bees, the dragon provides a reason for the dungeon’s structure to deviate from the sensible, dull, repetitive layout one would expect of a prison. The dragon limits the killer bees’ expansion in this direction, as its scales protect it from their stings, and its acid can easily destroy their hiveworks.

#138: Zombie. There is no real reason to imprison zombies. Another complaint from oriongates' review is that there are too many monsters – particularly the undead – that celestials would just destroy, not imprison. 

So we'll say the zombies were created by something else that is imprisoned here; something more dangerous. Some or perhaps all of them are former members of the noble’s nearby entourage who were killed and then zombified. We’ll figure out later who or what caused that to happen. For now, we'll place our zombies just to the east of the killer bees. They’re indifferent to the stinging insects, so they make a good buffer. 

#16: Camel. From dragons and zombies to… camels. Not all the entries are going to be easy. The camels are not prisoners, and they’re also unlikely to have migrated here intentionally, like the bees did. Let’s say they were brought here by some group of prisoners – possibly our noble and his retinue. We’ll put them adjacent to the dragon’s territory. The dragon has been herding them to supplement whatever food it is getting elsewhere. Humans find them to be irascible, but they freeze like deer in the headlights when the dragon approaches.

#40: Fish, Giant. One of the oddities of old-school D&D is the extensive “unusual animal” entries. I hadn’t realized the OSE bestiary included five different types of giant fish. We’ll pick randomly again for our sub-type, and land on giant catfish. One of the issues with the WLD is that several areas of the dungeon are transparently excuses to cram in monsters who need a custom biome, and the WLD’s “water level” is one of the most conspicuous. We’ll instead presume a number of separate watery areas, several of which may also be connections between different parts of the dungeon, as good megadungeon design necessitates. Water can also help explain the breakdown of separations between dungeon areas. 

We’ll say that this fish was once an ordinary catfish that was sucked into the dungeon as part of a flooding event, and later grew to its abnormal size as a result of the powerful mana suffusing the water within the dungeon. Because it is submerged except when hunting, it is safe from the killer bees, so we’ll put it next to them to form another buffer area. The noble and his entourage probably come here for water; they know to avoid the catfish.

#85: Ochre Jelly. A classic dungeon denizen that can be placed just about anywhere. Since the jelly is acid-themed, we’ll place it near the black dragon’s lair. Perhaps the jellies even originated with the dragon, gradually gaining mobility through latent dungeon magic?

#79: Mummy. We’ll put the mummy near the zombies, and posit that the mummy (whether intentionally or ambiently through its aura of uneath) is what roused them. Obviously this is another prisoner – perhaps the magic that allows it to respawn is particularly pernicious, and the celestials decided to imprison it after failing to find the canopic jar that powered its resurrection cycle. We’ll learn more about the mummy after we place a few more monsters nearby.

#74: Medusa. Gorgons are a favorite of mine. It would be easy enough to just assume this one is a prisoner, but I want to subvert expectations here. Perhaps they were contracted by the builders to help build the dungeon; after all, turning living matter into stone is a good way to supplement whatever stone you’re quarrying. This gorgon was either betrayed by the builders, or trapped here by accident. The gorgon is immortal and at least as willing to negotiate as the noble, if not more so. They can’t turn off their gaze, so they’re a dangerous ally even when attempting to work with diplomatic PCs.

Next time: The World's Largest Rewrite: Dungeon Is Wet, Tortoise Foreshadowing, and Feral Hogs on Trial