Castle Xyntillan Journal - Part Five

Before you proceed, please understand that this is an in-character record of my gaming notes. Be aware that it contains spoilers for the Castle Xyntillan mega dungeon module. Turn back now.

Start at Part One.

Author: Mike Cottam. Source: Wikimedia Commons

The Fifth Expedition, August 4, 2026 

There has been much to mull over since our previous foray into the Castle Xyntillan. The last campaign was one of the most profitable so far, and it has my comrades eager to reap more riches from the crumbling stones of the Malevol's home. Finally, they are starting to think like gnomes! We had many irons in the fire in preparation for our first visit of the month. 

Our adventuring company arranged as follows: 

• Norg, a thief (and yours truly) 
• Whim, a fighter (and gnome at heart) 
• Spud, a fellow thief (and hopeless romantic)
• Carl, my favorite cleric 
• Riley, my second favorite cleric (apologies if you are reading this, Riley) 
• Jean, a new cleric, and quickly becoming my third favorite cleric! 
• Noz, our faithful torch bearer rounded out our company 

Rumours Heard in the City 

The city was abuzz with gossip surrounding the castle. No doubt, the riches I and my companions recovered have set the tongues of the gossips wagging, as they were more than happy to part with new details concerning the dungeon.  

"I'd love to get into the cellars! Sometimes the real treasure is in the casks" Author's note: This confirms stories I've been hearing since my very first expedition, as well as what the butler shared during our previous visit. 

"Jean Gascard Malevol is concerned that he's considered a traitor to the family." Author's note: This may well be true, as I am learning that the Malevols are factitious and not necessarily unified.  

I also made inquires into gargoyles, as I'm still hoping to approach the right one regarding its tale, based on rumours I've heard previously. This lead me to The Church of Boniface, where I found our company's clerics in conversation with Father Bernard. Poor Bernard is the relief for Father Chlodowig, who went missing under mysterious circumstances. Father Bernard is a man of great faith but little experience, and the poor lout seems to have drawn the short straw after graduating the seminary, but I digress! The gargoyles! 

Father Bernard shared with me, in great confidence, that he has observed the gargoyles lurking in the gothic architecture of the church moving. And when he's traveling, he informed that Pagan men are watching him from the wood. Truly, men and women of Faith struggle with things us lay people never consider! 

In general, it seems that gargoyles are protectors of places, and at times can be tricky. As a gnome, I can understand this. For one must, at times, be devious to protect hearth and home. Notably, it seems that some believe gargoyles are created with purpose, similar to how many golems are produced. Could this rumoured tale-telling gargoyle be built for the purpose of sharing stories? Or have they simply existed long enough to witness many things? I would very much like to speak with one and learn the truth, one way or another.  

In addition, the holy symbol we recovered during our previous campaign does match that of the Bonifician faith. So perhaps the body in the mess hall is that of Father Chlodowg? I am not particularly curious unless there is coin involved in solving this mystery, and Father Bernard seems quite poor. 

Finally, we convince the good Father to allow us to store the evil items we recovered within the hallowed grounds of the church. I feel this is a better alternative to keeping them at the Vulgar Unicorn, where there is no telling what fate my befall them! 

One more thing: Father Bernard was more than happy to equip our party with tools to employ against the undead. Spud sprung for holy water, and I and Carl gathered garlic and stakes in case we were to encounter vampires (but hopefully not, as they sound dreadful). 

The Grand Foyer 

Our party decided to continue the pursuit of good booty, and once again enter through the main entrance. The apparition of James is still present, and still crying. His undeath seems to haunt him, and the spirit could barely recall our previous visit. This leads me to believe that some undead are stuck in cycles, and are fated to repeat certain behaviours and actions for eternity.  

Asking after the wine, James did inform us that Jean Gascard is in charge of the vintage. But also knowing in the mortal realm that he left Castle Xyntillan, I am led to believe my theory concerning his spirit exists in a certain kind of stasis of belief.  

Doors, Doors 

Previously, we only followed a path to the portrait gallery. This time around, we decided to check the many other doors from the foyer; at least this way we could see where they might lead.  

• Southwest: leads to an empty room of about 30' x 40' 
• Northwest: opens into a long hallway, turning north about halfway down and turns south near the end.  
• Northeast: this opens into a large room, described below. 

The Strange Study 

Coming from the northeast door of the study, this door opens into a large chamber spanning 30' and 60. The eastern wall contains a fireplace, the northeast wall has a door. To the south there is another door, and the north wall has both a desk with neatly stacked notes as well as a grandfather clock. There is also an armoire against one of the walls.  

This room is unnaturally dark, and swallowed up our torchlight. Jean cast a holy light spell, and it did nothing to banish the strange darkness of this room.  

The grandfather clock is ticking, but it runs backwards. When Riley used her clerical powers to detect evil, it scintillated with a deeply evil aura. This leads me to believe it's quite valuable, and I regret for a third time not investing in a cart. Next time I will bring one! 

Spud shared an interesting theory that the clock might cause time to run backward. But when they exited the room they were able to continue holding conversation with the company who stayed in the room. The theory warrants further inquiry, but I believe that the clock will make for valuable loot and I wish to sell it. Let the antiquarians ponder its mysteries!  

Jean examined one note, which appeared unsealed and unsent and unsigned. It is requesting that the men-at-arms who oversee the defense of the nearby town submit to the authority of the castle. The remaining notes we stuffed into one of our burlap sacks so that we could spend our time reviewing them.  

The armoire contained a great deal of clothing, but nothing valuable. It was all for servants. However, Spud shook them out and found a signet ring stamped with the initial 'M'. It is made of gold and later proved to be valuable enough!  

We also found a chest in the standing closet. Losing the contest between myself and Spud, I then proceeded to investigate it for potential traps. Finding none, I opened it away from mine own face as well as my party. Inside we found a plain dagger and a vial marked with a skull. The obvious assumption is poison, but I know the apothecary in town will identify these kinds of things for a small sum of twenty-five pieces of gold.  

The fireplace was unlit. However, the body of a dandy was stuffed awkwardly inside. I don't wish to speculate on how he wound up there! Carl and I secured him with a rope, and attempted to hoist his body out. This only let to him crumbling to ash and fragments of bone. Sadly, stirring up the remains resulting in no further precious objects being found.  

Father Carl did search further into the fireplace, and found a concealed lever. Rigging up twine and a hook from my thieving tools, we were able to activate the device, revealing a hidden smokeroom. An entire ham, parted into individual slices, was all that we found. Sadly, they were not worth much back at town.  

It may be worth the effort for me to climb the chimney, but I am hesitant to do so. We gnomes are not great natural climbers, preferring our earthly burrows. In addition, who knows what might be found at the top of that smokestack? 

Serpentina Malevol 

Whilst we were preoccupied with our pokings and proddings of the study, a figure espied upon us. A young woman, clearly of the Malevol lineage (based on her features), observed us. Dressed garishly, I can clearly recall her lacquered boots, costume bat wings, and devil's horns, wrapped up in a bodice threatening to burst. She introduced herself as Serpentina, to which Father Carl shortened to 'tina.  

This Malevol looked us over, fixating between myself and Carl. And while I am the handsomer of us two by a country mile, humans are unable to appreciate the refined beauty of gnomes. As a result, Serpentina gravitated toward our dear Father.  

Serpentina Malevol is very eager in her courting of our cleric, which I felt she approached in a traditional gnomish way, though I am unsure of human mating rituals. Several times she invited Carl to join her in her room at the tower to indulge in the game of mancala. A gentleman, and recalling his priestly vows, Father Carl gently rebuked 'tina's advances. This did nothing to her drive, and she promptly attached herself to his hip. As this did not immediately endanger our venture, our party did not intervene. To me, it seemed that the good priest was enjoying himself. And I thought I caught a look of envy, or longing, in the eye of young Spud. But what do I know? The more time I spend with humans, the more mysterious they become.  

Stairs to the Cellar 

The south wall of the study opens to reveal a staircase, about 40' long. It descends into a cellar, and I am delighted to share with you, dear reader, that there is wine! There were many casks and vats for making wine in this immediate area.  

Descending the stairs, we encountered a fat monk by the name of Ambrosius. Yes, he seems to be yet another Malevol. A true connoisseur of wine, we encouraged him to give us a tour of the grounds. The monk made sure to share that he carries a flask of fine champagne, to which I would greatly enjoy relieving him of in the future.  

Ambrosius lead us to an adjoining chamber, and brought us before the "best cask he can provide guests." However, with some prodding, he turned us over to a finer cask for the family, and I tasted a sample. To my inexperienced palette, it is a very fine wine indeed. While he was unwilling to bargain for my bottle of ghost gin, I did manage to convince him to part with a full bottle of the family vintage, and it fetched a pretty sum back at the village.  

It was here that Spud brought up their theory once more, and Father Jean easily dispelled the concept by asking Serpentina what the current year might be, to which she responded "1213," which is the current year by human reckoning.  

Brother Ambrosius was also sure to point out a barrel of soured wine, to which I surreptitiously marked with chalk so that we might avoid it in the future. I only wish to loot that which might make me and mine companions wealthy men and women! 

Of Note 

We must bring a cart for the grandfather clock and wine. 

Barrels may be necessary for emptying the casks.  

Serpentina is aware that we are staying at the Vulgar Unicorn inn. I am unsure if she is still smitten with my favorite cleric, or if it was simply a passing fancy.  

We should keep an eye on Father Carl, as some affection seemed to be returned. Whether this is normal human mating behaviour, or some trick of the Malevols, I am uncertain.  

-Daz

Follow by email!

Having My Lifeforce Drained at the Warhammer Citadel in Grapevine

Once upon a time, Young Daz would have been ecstatic at the thought of visiting a hobby Mecca. And part of me still wants to someday visit Warhammer World in Nottingham. But is the Warhammer Citadel in Grapevine the next best thing? Not by a country mile, in my experience. 

I previously visited Grapevine when the Citadel was having its grand opening. At that time, the store wasn't ready to visit, and instead celebrations were being held at a nearby hotel. The mini convention was fine, I had a good enough time. But it was also my first interaction with the store's staff, and this heavily colored any future perception. 

The store manager, Mic, is a piece of shit. I bought merch at the convention, and it broke. At various times, Mic promised a replacement, he promised to send his own copy of the damaged item, and so forth, gaslighting me in any and every way. My issue wasn't resolved until I involved Games Workshop corporate, during which time Mic flat out lied about events. Corporate, however, made the situation right as best they could, though I was never satisfied with the outcome. I was simply happy to be done with the entire affair, as I spent way too much time dealing with matters. And the entire time, Mic treated me like some crazy customer. But like I said, he's a piece of shit. 

Blood Angels army, circa 1996

So, with this background, you have an idea of what barometer I'd be using to gauge my experiences for this visit. The main difference this time would be bringing my teenage son. He's just starting his hobby journey, and doesn't have the cynical perspective one develops from decades of watching corporate greed swallow up anything that I used to find fun about Warhammer. 

Coming from Austin, the drive down the I-35 corridor is about what one would expect. Through Austin and the DFW metroplex, traffic sucks. But between those sprawling urban wastelands? A beautiful and relaxing journey. It reminds me of what I still find beautiful about Texas, and why I stay and fight despite extremists wanting to destroy anything unlike themselves. 

The Warhammer Citadel (and cafe) is nestled in the heart of Grapevine's historic downtown area. It's a very beautiful area, and it really reminds me of Georgetown's lovely town square.  The buildings are historic (at least from an American's perspective), and the surroundings are well-kept. Tourism is obviously important for the area, and the local chamber of commerce clearly knows who butters their bread. 

Space Wolves army, circa 1994

The Citadel is a low, unassuming building, a flat one-story shop nestled next to handsome multi-story brick buildings. It sticks out in an unattractive way, and mirrors the squat ugliness of the auto shop next door. It's unfortunate, but reflects the garish commercialism of our beloved hobby. One of Jes Goodwin's space marines stands guard out front, and is twin to the one that once stood at the front of Games Workshop's headquarters. These days, I think the original is housed behind the building, replaced by a Stormcast Eternal. 

Stepping inside, you are quickly smacked in the face with everything Warhammer. If you've been in a Warhammer store before, it's like that, just more. They carry every major game system, and a strong selection of what used to be called specialist games like Necormunda. Unlike the one-man stores, a staff of young glassy-eyed youths circle like carrion birds, ready to help you spend. The 90s lives on in the hard sell of the staff. Twice I had to shoo them off, firmly explaining that "we're good" and will let them know if they needed help. Of course, this doesn't stop them as they tried to continue the conversation and explain the newest release. Turning my back and giving a cold shoulder was the remedy. 

Warriors of Chaos, circa 1996-98

Contrasting the grim darkness of the modern trade dress, vintage Warhammer packaging runs along the top of the shelving. Still vibrant despite the sun damage, the old boxes remind onlookers that Warhammer used to be a colorful game, and not the pastiche of browns, blacks and grays it is today. 

Don't believe me? Just take a gander at one of the three dioramas lovingly imported from Nottingham, and built by the studio team there. Each depicts a moment in time, showing a battle between two forces. I'm left wondering if they represent three separate conflicts on the same planet, as each pair of armies clashes on the same drab rocky surface, devoid of any points of interest. 

This theme carries over to the gaming tables in the back of the shop, separated by a short showcase of display cabinets, as well as the restrooms. Various trophies and certificates adorn the walls, including a prize belt congratulating the store on smashing its 2018 sales targets during its first year of operation. 

Display of Eldar artifacts

But the tables. Each 40K table features a spread of L-shaped ruins across a lifeless rocky landscape, occasionally punctuated with a blob of boxy color from an official Warhammer shipping container model kit. Age of Sigmar got the better end of the deal, and there was a terrific looking table open for gaming, showing a ruin choked by swampy ground. It really is a shame that the color and splendor of the high fantasy setting doesn't carry over the far future. I'm guessing because color went extinct somewhere during the 31st millennium. 

The cafe occupies about one-quarter of space in the back half of the shop. I am not a coffee person whatsoever, so I don't have a strong opinion of it. I could see that there were several drinks and pastries for sale, each with some kind of clumsy Warhammer-inspired name to help brand them. A small open cooler also had bottle drinks for sale, like waters and cokes. 

Off to the side of the cafe is an area set up for hobbying. Unfortunately, this part of the store is poorly lit and not terribly suited to any kind of painting or modeling. Stuck in the corner, it almost feels like an afterthought, especially when compared with the demo space up front where you can learn to build and paint your first Warhammer model. It really sends the message, "once we've got you hooked, good luck!" At the very least, don't bring it here - just your money, please!

Throughout the store, but especially near the rear, were a number of Warhammer themed artifacts. Nearly all were inspired by the science fiction setting. Upon reflection, I can't think of anything related to either Age of Sigmar or the Old World in the entire store. Most were lazily crafted and painted to get them on display, and lack the same quality of what's shown in the background official video content. I guess the US gets Nottingham's sloppy seconds?

Blood Angels space marine

Despite this, they do have on display a venerable Blood Angels space marine. I am unsure if this is the same statue shown in old White Dwarfs or not. It looks the part to me, but I also never saw it in person. Also on display are several Eldar artifacts. These I've seen before; once at the grand opening scenario from years prior. The other escapes my memory. Of them all, I enjoyed the Eldar display the most. It clearly has the most love and care put into its construction and display. 

The miniature showcases mostly carry modern Warhammer miniatures (as is expected), but there is also a pleasant selection of classic models. All of these hail from the golden era from the mid to late 90s. I saw nothing from the early 2000s, which is a shame as many good pieces were produced during that period. 

Clearly here, as in any other store, Warhammer 40,000 dominates the landscape. Not only does the product dominate the storefront, gamers coming into the store were hauling their 40K armies. Most of the table were dedicated to 40K (and maybe the Horus Heresy in a pinch). Even listening in on a sales pitch, the blue shirt was discussing the new Armageddon set with the patron. 

Sadly, it was disappointing to hear the salesperson really positioning space marines as these great saviors of humanity. Despite Games Workshop taking steps online to say that all sides are bad, I felt that this employee didn't get the message, didn't care, or was just pushing a personal perspective of the setting. But then again, that's probably not an appealing message to future hobbyists, and the message needs dumbing down to get another rube hooked. 

So, was it worth it? If this visit was just for me, I would easily say no, unless you wanted to see some of the showcases or props firsthand (you can skip the bland dioramas). However, my son had an amazing time, and it does lead me to believe that this shop exists for people like him - bright eyed young hobbyists who are taking it all in with maximum enthusiasm and zeal. He's still talking about the visit and bragging to his friend about what he bought himself (e.g. what dad bought for him). 

Castle Xyntillan Journal - Part Four

Before you proceed, please understand that this is an in-character record of my gaming notes. Be aware that it contains spoilers for the Castle Xyntillan mega dungeon module. Turn back now.

Start at Part One.

Source: Nigel Parker, Wikimedia Commons

The Fourth Expedition, July 21, 2026 

You could feel the simmering anticipation leading up to our next expedition to the halls of Castle Xyntillan. Our delving company was busy with preparations as we followed up on leads and sought out new tales and rumours concerning the haunted halls of this most imposing structure.  

Our company for this journey was made of five adventurers, and two hirelings brought on with coin. In total, we were as follows: 

• Norg (your humble author), a gnome thief. 
• Whim, a human fighter (and honorary gnome). 
• Carl, a holy cleric. 
• Spud, a fellow thief. 
• Riley, a new member of our company and a cleric to boot! 
• Noz, our faithful torch bearer 
• And Jean, a cowardly footman, armed lightly.  

Rumours Heard in the City 

Whim and I pressed our ears to the ground, and paid off the typical rumour mongers with whom we're acquainted, learning the following: 

"Wearing red will keep away the scarlet spectre." Author's note: we previously encountered the apparition of Hugo, an ethereal crimson spirit. I believe this rumour relates to him, and he can be appeased with a small offering of lifeblood.  

"Much treasure has been won from Castle Xyntillan, the heirlooms of the Malevol family are still uncovered and they lead to a greater prize." Author's note: I feel as though this one speaks for itself. Of course there is still treasure, otherwise delving companies wouldn't spend the time plumbing the depths of the castle! 

In addition, I spoke with a local alchemist concerning the rose bulb I dug up from the castle garden. He did not recognize the specimen, despite his claims of knowing every plant in the region. Notably, he informed yours truly of its properties in crafting a weaker sleeping potion, and showed great enthusiasm in acquiring more rose bulbs.  

Developments and Notes on the Castle Ravens 

I would highly suggest that any delvers seeking to plunder the castle bring with them a quantity of fresh meats, for the castle ravens dearly love it. They were crying quite angrily upon approach by our party, and I fed them as usual, which appeased them towards me. However, they made sure to swoop at the other members of the company. Upon producing meats from their trail rations, the ravens took the offerings, and returned to their roosts on the castle ramparts.  

Climbing the Gatehouse Towers 

Two crumbling towers flank the gatehouse entrance, which we have favoured in all previous expeditions. The south tower is approximately a 60 foot climb of rubble ending in a 20 foot sheer climb. My fellow thief, Spud, attempted ingress but we both agreed thief-to-thief that the climb wasn't worth further risk without appropriate safety measures.  

However, Spud did manage to climb the north gatehouse tower. From their, they could spy a dome to the north, which roughly covers the log cutting room detailed earlier in this journal, approximately 40 feet across. In addition, to the east they could spy the donjon of the castle, roughly the same height as the tower upon which they stood.  

Beyond the donjon stands yet another tower, residing upon a lake. Truly, it sparks one's curiosity, and no doubt will be the subject of future expeditions.  

The Grand Entrance 

After poking about the gatehouse, our party mutually decided that it would be worth exploring another entrance onto the castle grounds. With that in mind, we decided to attempt the primary castle entrance.  

Based on our previous experiences with the unliving inhabitants of the castle, as well as their servants, we thought it might be worthwhile to concoct a cover story. With that in mind, Whim was to be our lord, with our clerics serving as humble (but high-ranking) religious authorities. Rounding out the number would be Spud, a manservant, and myself, and exotic herald in service to this far flung lordling.  

Two massive statues flank the main entrance. On one side is a seated griffin, which appears quite normal. The other is a unicorn, reared up on its hindlegs. Notably, its front hooves are replaced by hands. Our company found it to be most unsettling, as we find many things in this accursed place. Notably, when Riley was probing it with her magical skills, an evil aura clung to both statues. Otherwise, the two statues show the same kind fo genteel decay one can see throughout the castle.  

Lastly, the main entrance does display a large amount of foot traffic coming into the castle, as well as exiting it.  

The Receiving Hall 

A large wooden door leads into the receiving hall. We attempted knocking, in accordance with our cover story, but to no avail. Mustering my courage, I was lead my party into the room. It is a large chamber, roughly 40' x 50' and has double exits along the eastern and western walls, as well as to the north.  

The ceiling is high, and vaulted, despite not showing such height from Spud's earlier survey of the castle grounds, which feels most curious. Six stone columns are arrayed in a uniform fashion, supporting the ceiling, and they are quite thick, even for the loping arms of a human. Holes in the ceiling provide a dim light by which most can see, revealing splats of guano on the tiled floor.  

An apparition was here upon our arrival, and stood weeping in the corner. James, as we came to know him, was most distraught about the condition of the castle. He truly felt upkeep was beyond his ability on his lonesome. Seeking his favor, we inquired as to how we might assuage his distress. James advised that the portrait hall needed dusting, and that the mess hall was messy.  

A cloak, cane, and pair of shoes were in this foyer, and we inquired after James of who this guest might be. We were informed by the butler that this guest was long forgotten, and that we were free to take the items if we wished. Divine clerical magic identified these items as evil, and they were carefully placed in our loot sack for further consideration.  

I took the opportunity to further interrogate James. I learned that there are gargoyles within the inner courtyard, which all within my company were pleased to hear, as we have heard that one of them has a very interesting story to tell.  

In addition, James advised us that the Malevols brew their famous wine offsite, at a nearby winery. Truly, this bears further investigation.  

The Portrait Room 

The north hall leading from the receiving room runs for about 50 feet before making a right turn. From here, it opens up into an impressive portrait hall, and the very same in need of dusting, according to James. 

A door is to the left, from which we heard a great deal of boisterous carousing. Further along, a hallway cuts left. Beyond that, and area rife with cobwebs. And rounding this out is a staircase leading to the second story.  

At the entrance to the gallery, we spied another griffin statue. Instead of being seated, it stood rampant. A plaque upon the statue, which stood only five feet, read, "Courage Vindicated".  

Carl tried the raised paw as a lever, but to no success. However, upon inspecting its mouth, we spotted an opening leading into the statue. Running rope into the opening, we saw that it went about a foot to a foot and a half inward, to its chest. Reaching in, we found a potion which was labeled as a potion of heroism. I will be advising we trade it for coin, but I will defer to my companions as it could still prove most useful in our adventuring.  

Feeling the need to make good on our agreement with the butler, we set about dusting portraits. There were seven in total, depicting the following Malevols: 

• Philomone, the Quick; her portrait spoke, bidding us to visit her upstairs in her chambers.  
• Girolamo, the Dupe; his portrait demanded affidavits, to which I produced the very same parchments upon which I make the scrawls which became this record.  
• Aristide, the Patrician; this Malevol simply scowled at us. 
• "The Silent Wail"; this portrait was painted over in black, and the inscription was not on a plaque like the others but instead carved into the frame.  
• Hubert, the Huntsman; meeting the gaze of this portrait causes an arrow to be loosed. It broke upon the armor of Whim, who was unfortunate enough to meet Huberts's gaze. Runes are etched upon the arrow, though none in our company could read them.  
• Mortago, the Axe; this individual is heavily muscled, and moves through a series of poses intended to show his physique.  
• Marcel, the Malnourished; meeting his gaze results in him begging for food. However, our attempts to feed him failed. He informed us that if we were truly hungry we could nourish ourselves on the pigeons around the donjon.  

The paintings were removed from their frames and carefully rolled up for easier transport. Hopefully they value highly, as we can always use the extra coin! 

The Mess Hall 

Despite Spud and I listening at the door, the singing and carrying on was quite loud, and all in our party could hear the raucous singing through the stone door. Spending time listening to the song, we made the decision to move in and join along, and I am thankful for that decision! 

For within the chamber, measuring 40' by 30' were seated about three dozen skeletons! They were engaged in riotous song, singing of valorous deeds from no doubt ages ago. Fixed in the center of the room was a corpse, strung up by his ankles.  

Sensing my urge to inspect this body, Whim created a distraction while Spud lifted me up to relief the deceased of his holy symbol, his dagger, and a finely wrought snuff box from his pockets.  

Finally, of great note, there is a human-sized automaton in the corner of this room. In front of him sits a chess board. Our best guess is that this is some sort of playing partner. However, we felt we had pressed our luck enough for this expedition, and instead decided to make off with the booty we had acquired.  

Of Note 

Bring meat for the ravens. 

Have the evil items evaluated. They detect as magical.  

Prepare for the statues at the entrance. 

Make ready to confront the gargoyles.  

Brush up on chess.  

-Daz

Follow by email!

Dungeon Crawler Carl Made Me Vomit in My Mouth a Little

The hype around Dungeon Crawler Carl finally broke me. I've been searching my library apps for the audiobook (which I hear is great), but to no avail. With a waiting list that'll take longer than I'd like, I opted to dive into the four-chapter preview that the Libby app provides its users. 

Source: Matt Dinniman official site. 

What is Dungeon Crawler Carl about? Here's what Matt Dinniman says on his official website, "You know what’s worse than breaking up with your girlfriend? Being stuck with her prize-winning show cat. And you know what’s worse than that? An alien invasion, the destruction of all man-made structures on Earth, and the systematic exploitation of all the survivors for a sadistic intergalactic game show. That’s what."

From the opening paragraph I knew I would hate this book. Immediately, I was picking up vibes like I did when reading Cline's Ready Player One. If you hated that book, I think you'll hate this one too. I sure did. And I think I know why. Both volumes appeal to a sense of insider knowledge that excludes those not steeped in the secret lore. If you're a nerd, or a geek, you will sure love this! We're going to make references! It feels gate-keepy to me, whether that's intentional or not. 

Carl's just a regular dude. Six-foot-something and "I don't work out, but I look alright," he reminds me of the heroes from the pulp era; machismo and capability but without any kind of self-awareness or humility that made them likeable. Self-described as "not an asshole," which he feels the need to mention constantly within the first couple of chapters, you're left with the impression that Carl is probably the asshole. He broke up with his girlfriend because of an Instagram post and started smoking with her cat in their shared apartment out of spite (but hey, he cracked a window because he respects that cat! What a good dude!). He's also ex-Coast Guard, a trained martial artist, and an electrician. Just a regular everyman. Oh, and he "doesn't like drama." Carl is just a set of walking red flags in his one-dimensionality. In fact, as much (if not more) words are dedicated to describing Princess Donut, a Persian cat who is the other main character in the series.

I'm out of it constantly, but the series is part of the LitRPG genre, which is otherworldly fiction that also includes traditional RPG mechanics found on character sheets, like stats, skills and so forth. Carl's stats are the standard six popularized in RPGs like Dungeons & Dragons. Dinniman has Carl quote both D&D and Pathfinder as games he knows from his service days, so the author is definitely familiar. 

I didn't know about LitRPG before reading this book, but if you're familiar with modern isekai material like .hack or Sword Art Online, then you will understand this book. You have my apologies in advance. I also didn't realize that it's become a very popular genre in recent years, but that's on me. I don't read much newer stuff, and usually dislike it when I do (looking at you Sanderson, the Raising Cane's of fantasy). 

And speaking of iskeai, I think what's unfortunate about this book is how well it trods those well traveled paths of the genre. It's a contributing factor to my distaste, as I feel I've seen it before. It also explains why those in my circles might enjoy it; they're not consuming stories in those spaces at the same volume I have. I can fairly say that much of my dislike comes from isekai burnout. If you are or were a Marvel fan, you might relate to the pure saturation these bloated works occupy. 

Besides the stumbling introduction, the first thing that irked me was the pop ups. We hate them in real life, we hate them in Dungeon Crawler Carl. Maybe if I read further, he'd have one using tricks to stay open? We've seen this in other places, and especially in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Both serve the same purpose, which is to allow the author to give pithy info dumps. I'm not against the idea, but the execution left me feeling sour. If anything, I find it more interesting and engaging when the protag's guide is an actual character. From the genre, I point to the example of Hugi from Three Hearts, Three Lions by Poul Anderson. Hugi was knowledgeable of the world as he guided Holger, but had a personality that helped weave the lore dumps into the story, instead of reading like a footnote within the prose. 

We have another exposition dump with the alien corporation, who then explains over the next several pages the rules of the game world (BTW Earth is now an 18 level dungeon for survivors to crawl). Notably, you learn that as each level is cleared, remaining exits to the next level are halved. At the end, there will be two, and then one exit for Carl to reach. Or will he sacrifice himself for Donut? Or a love interest? Or a love interest who is Donut? 

Dialogue is not a strength for Dinniman. And every time characters speak, you can feel your eyes cry. Now Carl is new to this situation, so I do have empathy for him. It's just sad that so much of his reactions are literally "Oh shit!" and "What is this?" It's tiresome and a waste of words. Later, when meeting a mentor figure, we have to deal with the affectation of the mentor calling Carl "kid." Since the mentor is a shape changer, and states that he'll reappear later when more dungeon levels are cleared, I'm sure readers will feel smart when a stranger calls Carl "kid" again. Borrowing from series like The Hunger Games, the mentor, Mordecai, is the Haymitch to Carl's Katniss. 

More pages get dedicated to describing the achievements Carl unlocks. At some point, the text just has him dismissing them, which I'm sure will be a plot point that returns to bite him in the ass. It's the achievement text that really burns my butter; it's the low effort sarcasm of modern internet discourse passing as humor. I realize how old I sound typing that out, by the way. But seriously, the passages were tiring to read. 

Let me give Matt Dinniman some credit after shitting on so much of his work. I think he writes serviceable action sequences. Carl's first real fight with some goblins was fairly interesting to read. The language is jumpy and exciting. The downside is this scene could have done more to help set the tone for violence in the series. As enemies, the goblins felt interesting. But also, they are just a pastiche of everything we expect of goblins in our cultural zeitgeist. Mordecai delivers an entire speech about how the aliens made sure to study Earth and humans thoroughly so that they could have a really entertaining dungeon show! While the idea is cool, it easily rewards lazy writing, and Matt exploits this by throwing the most tired ideas at us. The book even takes time to tell us the dungeon concept is Survivor meets Running Man. 

So, can I recommend this book? If you want something that's mental junk food and requires little thought, I think this series is for you. It's the literary equivalent of a Netflix show you put on in the background. You barely have to pay attention to what's going on. Every few pages, there is an exposition dump to make sure you're caught up on the action. For me, it's the movie that is intentionally made in the vein of B-movies with shlock and gore and violence while winking at the camera, but it lacks the earnestness and soul that makes the worst ones cult classics. It's litslop for the booktok crowd. 

My initial reaction posted to Instagram was, "Hitchhikers meets Hunger Games by way of Ready Player One while the author feeds you a shit sandwich of the English language." I stand by that statement. I'm glad I checked out the preview and didn't spend more time or money reading the full book. 

Finally, it's my understanding that it's been optioned as a TV show. I think that's a fine place for it, and I think it'll work great in that space. It just sucks as a book. Maybe Dinniman should write screenplays. 

-Daz

Follow by email!

Review: Secret Stairways - Enchantment of the Ring

Artwork by Arisa Fields.

I'm not sure when I first got into dungeon synth. Not actively, at least. I was certainly into the proto acts of the 90s, like Dead Can Dance, but knowing it as a genre of music certainly didn't occur until 20 years later. 

About ten years ago I was looking for ambient music to use in my games of D&D. This is when I came across Enchantment of the Ring by Secret Stairways. Probably like many others, I found it through YouTube on the Dungeon Synth Archives channel. 

When I queued it up to play, I was immediately drawn in by the power of "What Lies Beyond the Door." It is such a simple yet powerful song. Suffice to say I was hooked, and I sat there at my laptop, listening, until I finished the record. 

As is common knowledge, Matthew Davis, the creative mind behind Secret Stairways, chose to take his life in 2011. During my first listen I could feel myself connecting with the emotion of his compositions; I wonder if the emotions stirred up within me where the same driving his creative process?

For me, each track feels deeply personal, including the ones he wrote for use in television. It's rare as a creative to be able to inject so much of your personality into work for hire, and I feel that Matthew did it so well. 

Songs like "Onward to Hy Breasail" and the aforementioned "What Lies Beyond the Door" are both deeply moody and atmospheric. It's easy to see how they would become retroactively slotted into the dungeon synth genre, as they both showcase the purposeful exploration of sonic landscapes that are so common in contemporary pieces. In particular, these two songs bookend the album wonderfully for me, as the first begs questions of its listener, calling on them to receive a message on the wind. Meanwhile, the closing track echoes back, in its way answering to its predecessor's challenge. 

Tucked in the middle, "Lammas Tide" finds itself to be a particular favorite of mine. The soundscape is almost choral, and filled with a longing and appeal as it searches for something more. There is a gentleness to its rise and fall of notes, as if to soothe its listener along their path of acceptance. 

This flows smoothly into another favorite, "Collecting Primroses." Adopting a more uplifting spirit, I find the track to be encouraging, which truly shows the strength of its composer. As a two-time survivor of suicide attempts, it reminds me of the talks I would have with myself leading up to those attempts. Or perhaps I'm simply projecting. I just wish Matthew could feel the love and joy that these tracks have brough to others. 

One theme that keeps me coming back is the plodding, bouncing melodies exhibited across many of the songs, such as in "Reflections on the Lake." Clearly, it was a strength of his, though harsher critics might say he leans too heavy on it through these compositions. As for me? I don't think I agree. Mr. Davis is an underappreciated talent outside of the genre, and I don't engage with the fandom enough to have any insights into how others feel. 

Overall, I would easily place Enchantment of the Ring into my top five dungeon synth albums; even going so far as placing it as my number one choice overall. Not only is it a great introductory into what the genre offers listeners, these tracks have held up extremely well over the years, standing the test of time while the larger space experiences its own rise and fall of trends and shifting tastes. 

What makes the work of Matthew Davis endure is the fact it's authentically his voice, without the weight of expectation holding him back. Had this been released when the genre had finally taken hold, it would most definitely be an entirely different beast. 

You can listen to Enchantment of the Ring and support his legacy through Bandcamp. 

-Daz

Follow by email!

Castle Xyntillan Journal - Part Three

Before you proceed, please understand that this is an in-character record of my gaming notes. Be aware that it contains spoilers for the Castle Xyntillan mega dungeon module. Turn back now.

Start at Part One.

Can we make ingress through the rubble?

The Third Expedition, July 7th, 2026 

Time has passed slowly since my last expedition. The castle puts a strong hold on a person. It calls out to you in your dreams. Thoughts of treasure haunt your waking sleep. I knew I must return soon.  

A party was assembled for the latest foray into the halls of the castle. Once more I joined with Carl the Cleric and our fighter friend Whim. In addition, another footpad (known as Spud on the streets) joined our company. While I am no judge of human beauty, this fellow really has an unfortunate face. Lastly, our alliance included a Paladin by the name of Phosphorus. Joining him was his henchman, another fighting man with a strong sword arm. Rounding out our number was Noz, the one who bore our torch during the previous delve.  

Rumours Heard in the City 

The drunkards and tale tellers and rumour mongers had plenty to say as I spent coin plying them with drink. Here are the choicest morsels for your consideration. 

“A wise old gargoyle has a legend to tell for those who will listen.” 

“You can get into the castle through a cave mouth through the lake, for those who don’t want a front entrance.” 

In addition, while asking after ravens, I learned nothing of them, but the following information fell into my lap. 

“There is an apothecary who will accept an apprentice in exchange for a fantastic monster, captured alive.” 

Courtyard Developments 

Upon our return, the courtyard appeared mostly as we left it. Notably, the ravens were eager to see us, or so it seemed, as they chattered at our company. It would seem that our offerings of meat and shiny coin was well met, as they eagerly took to the meat we left. Sadly, no response was given when I inquired of them concerning any new developments. Despite this, I will continue in my quest to make friends of their unkindness.  

Future delvers beware: the rose garden is growing back in, and no doubt will be ready to bloom once more! I can also report that no extra limbs were seen; not an arm or a leg in sight! I collected a sample, and I hope to bring it to an alchemist or botanist in town for a professional opinion. Perhaps an antidote to the sleeping agent can be created? Or perhaps it can be weaponized against the inhabitants of Castle Malevol?  

Once More Through the Garden Shed 

Our company debated at some length about the right approach during this expedition. I left it to my companions to help decide, as I do not wish to come across as too bossy or unkind. They know not of gnomish ways as I know little of how the tall folk conduct themselves. In the end, it was decided we would further our exploration through the secret garden shed door.  

Ghost Bar Developments 

Once more, five patrons were here, posing the same statement, “But that is not the answer the living question!” When I spake at them, the spirits dissolved into ectoplasm. I am unsure if they are true spirits, or simply an echo of the men who once drank in this hall. Perhaps there is a satisfactory reply to the living question? I will keep an ear close to the ground.  

Nursery Room Developments 

When passing through the nursery, we once again could hear the giggling and cooing of ghostly babes. A voice sung a lullaby in an off-key voice. However, when inspecting the cribs, they appeared empty. Spud held a crib for a moment – and I held my breath. However, upon release it resumed a-rocking. The tall thief also reached for the large kitchen knife mounted on the wall. As long and sharp and deadly as a short sword, he plucked it from the wall without any complaint. We counted the daggers mounted on the wall; there appears to be 29. I wonder if there is a significance to that number? ` 

The Big Talking Head 

During our first expedition, Quirky and I made the fast choice to spike this room shut and continue on. I can report that the spike was removed at some point. Explaining the situation to the Paladin, he knew that he must honor his oath and confront the undead who are a source of evil on the Prime Material plane. Let this be a lesson to those of flexible morals – paladins can often be more trouble than they are worth! 

Entering the chamber, Phosphorous and Carl used their divine powers to turn the zombies with prayers of censure. The great floating head stood alone, scowling and projecting a force at the holy warriors. While the seven zombies were easily felled, the large head took a bit more of work, but it also succumbed to masterful sword strikes.  

Of note, Whim attempted the words imparted to us from an earlier rumor. They seemed to have no effect. Secondly, the zombies were polishing about one hundred spears. My gnomish mind does not comprehend the ways of men, for why would they dedicate a room to spear polishing when they have a (formerly) well stocked armoury?  

The Swarm of Severed Hands 

Upon my suggestion, we returned to deal with this chamber as well. Once again, uttered holy words turned the swarm of undead hands, and in turn our party made quick work of them. The glittering thunderhead was a bit more problematic. However, I was able to scoop up the angry little cloud into my sack, and we separated the potion from its watery cell. The cloud we stored in a backpack, hoping to trade it with the alchemist I mentioned earlier in this record.  

Howling in the Halls 

Once more, in this north-south hall, which adjoins the rooms mentioned above, we heard the howling of a wolf or large dog. I should mention, this is about the same as we heard during my first expedition to the halls of this accursed place. Perhaps it is a small spell set to deter intruders? Or maybe an alarm? It is difficult to say.  

Running north-south, the halls turn to east as your approach the northern end. From there, the hallway runs for another thirty feet or so to the east. This terminates in two doors, one on the northeast wall, and one on the southeast.  

The Woodcutter’s Chamber 

The south door opens into a chamber measuring about 30’ x 20’, and included a masked man chained to the wall. He wielded a woodcutters axe, and was at the task of chopping wood.  

While questioning him, he requested that our company, “free me from this torment.”  

However, as we debated how to proceed, a gang of courtiers caught us off guard, and from behind. The leader of these hens, Meredith (Malevol?), bid us to leave the cutter alone, and named him to us as “Blerot.” 

Unfortunately for all, our Paladin was already set in mind and deed. Detecting that this wretch stank of evil, he shut the door. I know not exactly what transpired, but when I later opened this chamber, Blerot the Woodcutter lay dead, his head severed. Perhaps Whim can fill in the details? He was alone with them both. 

While unknown actions transpired behind closed doors, Meredith and the ladies of court grew impatient and curious. After a harsh exchange of words, my remaining companions and I made as if to leave. However, I instead chose to act rashly.  

Drawing upon the arts learned from the Guild, I plunged my longsword between the noble woman’s shoulders, felling her. A melee broke loose, and in the confusion, I broke into the room, notifying Phosphorous and Whim that trouble had found us. The fighting men joined the swirl of melee as Carl turned half of their number. We watched as six of the courtiers fled away.  

The ladies of court fought viciously, long talons attempting to shred flesh from bone, just as the sagging flesh of their own ghoulish faces clung with all might to stay in place. The combat did not last long, and we decimated those that didn’t rout.  

Of Note 

Despite their decomposition, the courtiers had much finery remaing. While the lavendar is pleasant enough, the faint rot must be cleansed to make them saleable. A washing is in order. 

In addition, we recovered the century of spears, and made good to fix them to the Paladin’s warhorse for transport back to town.  

Our alchemist contact accepted the thundercloud, trading the promise of teaching a spell to a magic user of our choosing. In addition, the potion wrested from the cloud turned out to be a love potion. I wonder if it can be traded to Tristano in the courtyard? It is worth finding out, in my small opinion.  

A small locket was snatched from the cleanly severed neck of the woodcutter. Cheaply made, it contains the picture of a beautiful young woman. Could this be a scandal for the Malevols? I wonder.  

Continue with Part Four.

-Daz

Follow by email!

Castle Xyntillan Journal - Part Two

Before you proceed, please understand that this is an in-character record of my gaming notes. Be aware that it contains spoilers for the Castle Xyntillan mega dungeon module. Turn back now.

Start at Part One.

Map of Castle Xyntillan.

The Second Expedition, June 16, 2026 

Two weeks have passed since my previous expedition into the Castle Malevol (I must apologize to the family, as I finally came across materials with which I could confirm the spelling of the name; previous errors will remain intact, as we are learning creatures). 

I have assembled a new party: once more I was joined by Quirky the Elven Fighter. In addition, another fighter was recruited – a human by the name of Whim (“The Almost Wise”). With him came Carl, a human cleric. To which gods he prays I do not know. With them, we paid the coin for a fighting man, Margard, and a torch bearer, Noz.  

Rumours Learned in the City 

We courted and paid the rumor mongers in town, learning the following: 

“There are multiple libraries and laboratories in the castle.” 

“The ancient incantation ‘pho gig’ will keep the lesser undead at bay.” 

Courtyard Developments 

The castle courtyard was mostly as we left it during our previous delve. Notably, the sarcophagus lid was restored to its position. Also, the ravens are still present. I offered them tidbits from my rations. The birds ignored everything save for the jerky. Next time, I will bring them more meat. Whim also suggested shiny trinkets, so I left ten copper coins as we were leaving. It may take time, but I believe I may be able to befriend them, and commune with them as my people do to learn more of the castle and its environs.  

Skeletons in the Stables 

With a larger party, I proposed a plan to deal with the skeletons in the stables. The fighters rushed in, giving us surprise. Two skeletons were hewed down before they could react, evening the odds for our party. They then gained the initiative, wounding Quirky. Carl uttered the censure prayer, turning the rest which we then easily disposed of. Unfortunately, our hired blade Margard fell alongside the animated bones. I will see to it that his family is informed of his death, and I will spare some gold so that the townsfolk know I am a gnome of good disposition as a poor reputation can ruin many things.  

Our fellowship recovered their spears, as well as a full suit of plate mail. Time was taken to clean it, and Whim doffed his ring mail, favoring the greater protection of the hammered steel plate. In exchange, he ventured that he will be the first into rooms to the great acclaim of my companions.  

On the wall hung a poster advertising a bounty for Claude Malevol. No doubt, something “malevolent.” Some three thousand pieces of gold will go to they who can bring in Claude Malevol, dead or alive.  

A trunk also occupied this room. I spend some time examining it before deeming it safe. Inside were more of these posters as I described above. They should make good kindling.  

Lastly, a final ominous discovery. In this chamber we chanced upon a tattered banneret. A gules field featuring a decapitated head. Is this the heraldry of the Malevol family? I will attempt further inquiries.  

From the Eastern Rose Garden Door 

Previously, we took the western door from the Rose Garden into the tool shed, and discovered a secret door. This time we entered the dungeon through the eastern door.  

The first chamber is approximately 50’ by 20’ running north-south. Few things of interest were in this chamber, unless you consider rags and a broken chair leg interesting? Perhaps I’ll have a closer look at it on a future expedition... Besides the entryway, doors exit to the north, east, and south.  

The south door brings you to another chamber that I reckon is once again about 50’ by 20’, while an exit door occupies the south corner.  

Following it leads to a chamber of about 30’ by 30’. There are two doors on the eastern wall. Rotting banners in the same red and severed head (headraldry?) hang by tatters from the walls.  

The southernmost door here opens into a hallway. Our torchlight did not reach its end, and we did not explore further at this time.  

The door above it opens into what appears to be a small armoury. Racks of weapons and armors were present. I am no expert, but they seemed to be in good enough condition. These we bundled up, so that we wouldn’t return to town empty-handed. On my next visit to these ruins, I plan to bring a cart and mule to make carrying our booty much easier. And perhaps a groom to manage the animal? Adventuring costs add up quickly it would seem.  

Four training dummies are also here. We investigated them with spear and ten-foot pole, and they were deemed to not be a threat.  

Notably, a loud banging could be heard. On the western wall are two metal doors. The loud banging seems to be coming from the southern door. My attempts to listen were futile, and we attempted to knock out a rhythm to which a sentient creature might respond. This seemed to do nothing to abate the banging noise from that chamber. 

Smashing the padlock on the northern door, we opened it to see a creature in cell of about 10’ by 10’ and not a hair more. Something like a turtle or armadillo, but with twin tails, pair of antennae and burnt orange scales. Quirky identified it as a rust monster. Knowing what one is from stories my granddad shared, we decided to spike this door shut. It made no movement as we did so, and I am not entirely sure if it was still living. Whim hypothesized about why a create that eats metal would be trapped, but I cautioned that such questions gives one headaches that only good brandy can solve. For now, this mystery remains unsolved.  

The bundles we brought to the broken gate. About halfway through moving the arms and armor, we encountered a fright! A hazy red spectre presented itself, demanding a sacrifice of blood. Thinking quickly, I drew blood from my palm and flung it as an offering to the ghast, which he found pleasing. He bade us, “Hugo counts you as a friend.” Is Hugo one of the Malevols? This bears further investigation.  

While hauling another lot of loot, a gang of servants dressed in livery meandered down the hall. Not one of them bore a head. They advised, “You don’t look like a servant or a master.” We informed them thus that we are friends of Hugo, which they questioned. However, as a keen observer of the tall folk, I understood that servants and lordlings have a one-sided relationship. Bearing this in mind, I chastised the headless man, which snapped him into shape! My advice to future delvers – do not let the help question you. I may not get the World of Men, but I will adapt to their ways as the situation merits. Gold does not care! 

Finally, on our last trip to strip the armoury of its wealth, we once again encountered those black-clad figures; five in total. They made to take our haul, to which we decided to let them. At this point, we didn’t wish for any more trouble. To our nervous surprise, they followed us to the broken gate and placed those goods with the rest. Does this mean they are to be trusted? I do not think as such, and I would suggest to other would-be delvers to accept their help with caution, and watch for a dagger to your back! 

Of Note 

Bring the ravens meat and trinkets. I believe they know things about this castle. It will be worth the time to earn their trust.  

Acquire either a cart, a mule, and perhaps a groom to manage the animal. If there is more loot like that in the armoury, it is simply much too much with which to bother crawlers! Spending coin here is sure to save on future troubles; most notably a free sword arm! 

Continue with Part Three.

-Daz

Follow by email!