Through the broken ruins of an old city, a band of adventurers crawl slowly ahead. The ground is cracked and uneven, as if partway through an earthquake. Climbing over the swollen street’s loose tiles, the forward scout returns. There are no people, and no corpses. The whirling dust that had obscured the view like mist has begun to clear, dropping into circular patterns. At the now-visible epicenter, a gigantic form is revealed. Its blood-red and raw facets spread vicious refractions of the too-dull sunlight all across the ancient stones. Crystal mountain. And in its centre burns a malign will of immense power…
There is this song by the band Death (which is/was, unsurprisingly, a death metal group), called Crystal Mountain (youtube link), and its pretty great. It sounds ominous, winding and interesting. And when I heard it, I got this feeling that I should make a dungeon based on it… or at least vaguely inspired by it. So here goes with some basic stuff.
From the Lyrics
There are a bunch of lyric sites, like this one.
- Blind faith and delusions conjure power.
Cultists. There are definitely cultists here. They might unwittingly draw out the evil.
- Inside crystal mountain, evil takes its form.
I have a feeling this i not a human evil, nor one from hell. Primordial evil?
- Commandements are reborn.
Well, the clerics are screwed. Does the mountain’s evil absorb religions?
- Traps to get those out to stop the divine; slave to a curse, forever confined.
The poor invaders that are defeated become part of the guardians of the mountain.
- Dreams made of steel, stronger than any faith.
Is the origin of the evil a very, very ambitious person? Someone who went against the religions of their time and then ironically became a pseudo-god themselves?
It springs from the earth, piercing through a settlement with a shocking force. Anyone who doesn’t escape disappears within a few days. Not only people, but animals, food, and other things as well. What’s left are empty houses and streets. The “mountain” itself remains, for years or decades at a time, the only speck of color in the dried out husk of a town. There’s always at least one door, sometimes several, spread amongst the jagged talons of red crystal. They range from discreet to bombastic, and lead into the weird chambers inside…
I think I’ll cut the first post here. Also, thanks to Ars Magisterii for kicking this one back to life with a comment. It had gotten pushed down in the half-done posts pile. :p