S2: White Plume Mountain | Old School Review
Missing artifacts, a mad wizard, and an active volcano. Should you play this classic module?
White Plume Mountain has always been a subject of superstitious awe to the neighboring villages. People still travel many miles to gaze upon this natural wonder, though few will approach it closely, as it is reputed to be the haunt of demons and devils…
Introduction
In 1978, a young Lawrence Schick applied to work at a growing company called TSR. He included in his application a dungeon of his own design, cobbled together from various adventures he’d made as a DM. Sure enough, TSR liked what they saw. They gave him the job and published the adventure as is, labeling it— you guessed it— Module S2.
These origins make sense, as White Plume Mountain often plays like a greatest hits record sequencing set-piece after set-piece in a tightly organized, quest-driven package. As always, there are some missteps and lessons to be learned for your own table, but we’ll get to that in time.
The Good (or, What to Steal)
A clear mission: to recover three stolen artifacts called Wave, Whelm, and Blackrazor. “Rewards were posted, servants hanged, and even the sanctuary of the Thieves’ Guild violated in the frantic search for the priceless arms”. Now their owners are offering extravagant rewards for their safe return.
A vivid description of the volcano-dungeon: “hot like a sauna bath,” surfaces “slick with condensed steam”, oak doors “swollen by dampness”.
The Wizard’s Mouth, a cave into the mountain that rhythmically exhales clouds of steam “like a man breathing on a cold day”.
Five flesh golems with numbers painted on their chests like the weirdest football fans ever. Pick the right golem (it’s the only prime number), gain an ally. Pick the wrong golem and all five attack. Also, they’re healed by lightning damage.
A lake of boiling mud, spewing geysers of of hot muck, that Player must cross on swinging discs.
A room with elastic walls that hold back a boiling lake. Anyone who rips a wall is “likely to get the whole party boiled”. Oh, and there’s “just about the biggest crab anyone’s ever seen”.
A room heated by induction that gets hotter the farther you enter, until metal armor melts your skin.
A frictionless room rigged with rusty blades (inflict “super tetanus”; kills in 2-5 rounds) and a false wall for frictionless Players to slide through.
An inverted ziggurat made of glass tanks inhabited by different monsters (giant crayfish, sea lions, wing-clipped manticores… the usual).
The Bad (or, What to Learn)
1. No Keraptis… or Renegade Gnomes
Keraptis is the big bad in this module. He’s a mad wizard who’s been living in the volcano for 1,300 years with a “fanatically loyal company of renegade gnomes”. Wouldn’t you love to see that? Well tough luck; they’re nowhere to be seen. The end of the module suggests there’s “another complete level where Keraptis yet reigns”, but leaves it to the DM to invent it.
→ The Lesson
When you’re writing an adventure, learn what expectations it’s setting. Did you drop a rumor about a mysterious monster that eats only the eyes of stray travelers? You damn well better put it in there!
2. No Room Names
This is not a critique of the adventure itself, but its presentation. There are 27 areas on the map, but they’re only numbered— not named. This makes it a lot harder to scan for information in the midst of a game. These old modules— with their dense pages of justified, two column text— are typically terrible when it comes to information design, but the lack of the room names is notable, even in the 70s.
→ The Lesson
When you’re writing a dungeon, name all the areas. This does the heavy lifting. A good room name may not even need a description (think “Rotting Pantry” or “Bottomless Pit”).
3. Tacky Final Encounter
As the Players exit the dungeon, a force wall blocks their path and a voice speaks:
“Not thinking of leaving, are you? You’ve been so very entertaining, I just couldn’t think of letting you go, especially with those little collector’s items of mine. And since you’ve eliminated all of their guardians, why, you’ll simply have to stay… to take their place.”
Then two efreet named Nix and Nox appear. (If the Players have plenty of HP, there’s two more: Box and Cox.) The whole thing feels contrived and tacky— especially the cartoon villain speech.
→ The Lesson
Balancing difficulty is hard, especially in crunchy games with a lot of moving parts. If you miscalibrate and go too easy, just do better next time. If you go too hard, that’s OK too— maybe the Players will surprise you. Or they'll learn to retreat. Either way, don’t tack on some contrived encounter— whether it’s a random ambush or a deus ex machina savior. Feels cheap, man.
So S2: White Plume Mountain… Play, Read, or Skip?
Play! This module is packed to the brim with table-ready stuff. Did I mention Qesnef, the hookah-smoking ogre mage who disguises himself as a “doughty halfling warrior” captured by the evil wizard? No? How about Sir Bluto, wanted by the Royal Magician-Detectives for the River of Blood massacre?
Yes, the information presentation is cumbersome (forgive them, it was 1979) but with a little preparation, you and your table will have an absolute blast. Plus, you could readily run this as three one-shots, each devoted to a different leg of the dungeon and quest for a magic item. Now go play it. You’ll have fun.
