Saturday, May 29, 2021

Durance Vile of the Storm Giantess
Or: Not a Review of
G2—Glacial Rift of the Frost Giant Jarl

Tonight, I read G2—Glacial Rift of the Frost Giant Jarl by Gary Gygax and I have some time to reflect on it after eating homemade tacos for supper. 

They were great.

I'm writing an ice cave dungeon. For my sake, my players' sakes, and for the betterment of the dungeon, I think it's important to familiarize myself with the archetypes of the genre.

G2 was published in 1978 and is what I personally consider the ice cave dungeon archetype. I've never ran nor played it, but I've read it thoroughly and I'm very glad I did. It was a quick, easy read. Took no effort. Would recommend. 

This post is not a review of G2. I'm just deconstructing Gygax's design choices to compare and contrast what I have planned for my dungeon. I want take inspiration from his genius while examining his choices from a modern Old School Revival perspective.

G2 is a two-level frost-themed cave dungeon designed for nine, ninth level AD&D characters. It can stand alone, but it's a direct sequel to G1—Steading of the Hill Giant Chief. 

Forces of the frost giant jarl are attacking human lands and the players are tasked with killing him. Gathering information is a stated objective, but it's largely window dressing. The reward is looted treasure, none of which is very extraordinary.

For an entrance, the dungeon features several obvious cave mouths in the sides of a canyon, much like B2—The Keep on the Borderlands' Caves of Chaos. The ravine's floor is hostile territory. In the caves, there's a whole lot of frost giants and some monsters they keep as pets, such as a mated pair of white dragons. Other encounters include giant humanoids attending the jarl's court.


"As frost giants have been amongst those who have been in the reaving bands, the party is to deal with them as the hill giants have been dealt with. Death and destruction are to be meted out to the frost giants in the same measure they gave to the peoples below.

Any treasure taken is to be kept by the party; this is their reward for the perils they must face.


Rocked back in my chair listening to music, I enjoyed reading the module in all its Gygaxian glory. 

Of course, I would hate running G2 out of the book at the table without notes, but that's true with every classic I've perused. Currently, I'm running T1—The Village of Hommlet on the OSR Pick-Up Games server. Information I need to find quickly is utterly buried in tangled paragraphs of convoluted sentence structures.

Reading Gygaxian at my leisure is a groovy trip, but I'd like to strangle him when using his work as reference tool at the table

I mean no disrespect to those who wrote the words upon which the foundation of my hobby rests, but we've come a really long way in the layout and "usability at the table" aspects of adventure design. 

G2 is a bloody hack-and-slash dungeon crawl, no big surprise since it's labeled a "tournament module." That's as dire a warning as a rattlesnake's tail to the OSR. "Combat is a failure state" has become dogma, but we can all agree we're not at the table primarily to roll a 20-sided dice back and forth. Excessive combat can become a tedious grind.

Kill monsters, take their stuff

Having no personal experience with what challenges an AD&D party of nine, ninth-level characters are capable of facing, I'm guessing the players are meant to battle their way through this chamber-by-chamber. Most rooms are basically, "Here's some monsters standing around looking at the walls. Some of them have treasure. This is how they'll fight the besieging players."

"The OSR is problems without prescribed solutions," so goes the mantra, but puzzles are traditional and I take them as an exception to the precept. It should be optional, but I like at least one puzzle in a dungeon. It doesn't have to be suitable for a five year old to solve, but I also like my puzzles fairly simple.

In the puzzle category, I suppose we could count a treasure chest with a combination lock, but if so, that's the lowest bar. Don't move the wrong disk or a needle shoots out. Meh. 

Role-playing opportunities would be far more rife if players were given the necessary tools for political intrigue. For example, there's a fire giant with no prescribed motivation other than "kill the invading players." He'll parley, but this is basically just "surrender or die." If the players had a peace treaty from the king if he betrayed the jarl or something, it might have been a fun encounter that didn't just lead to more slaughter.

Every dungeon needs treasure. This is especially true in the OSR where the mechanics of character advancement are usually measured by troves of looted treasure found while exploring (e.g., GP=XP) as opposed to killing or combat. In a B/X dungeon, I'd expect less than 10% of XP to come from combat.

We don't need a lot of explanation as to why the treasure is there, but we need something. That something is often what hooks OSR players to enter the dungeon in the first place. 

"They will fight only if attacked . . ."
The treasure's theme is mainly "what the visitors brought to the jarl as fealty." Visiting giants and ogres and trolls and other "big humanoids" are seeking the jarl's aid and protection from the human kingdom.

This is genius. It's so simple, but it checks all the boxes. 

"Funhouse dungeons" are monster menageries with little to no logic for their location of appearance. They can be fun, but not every dungeon is a funhouse. The presence and combination of some monsters need a little bit of explanation. 

We need it for player agency. Players need to know whether to expect the absurd, or if reasonable assumptions can be made. 

"Why is a Fire Giant in an ice cave?" That question, for example, deserves an answer. Gary gives us a great one that can be used several times throughout the dungeon. It pulls double duty for also being a good explanation for lots of treasure other than GP=XP. 

A good word for the ineffable, sublime quality of game play that's not combat, not role playing, not a puzzle, and not exploration escapes me, but it's of vital importance to the OSR. This je ne sais quoi can include those aspects of play, but they're not what's essential. "The whole is greater than the sum of its parts." 

The Storm Giantess' Prison

In that vein, there's a storm giantess "damsel in distress" whom the wicked, mustache-twisting frost giant jarl is wooing by force. 

I love it. I would would run this "durance vile" as the centerpiece of the adventure. The whole thing would revolve around her. I'd call it "Durance Vile of the Storm Giantess." 

Imagine a Valkyrie, proud and noble—but she's 20 feet tall. A storm giant woman who towers over her lowly captor not just in physical stature, but in every other category of might and status as well. The players let her out and she is going to absolutely curb stomp him. What a great ally. 

So much potential for interesting role playing and fun.

OSR is a mindset. It's a style of play. An OSR dungeon crawl is not simply a series of pitched battles. In fact, that might be the antithesis of an OSR dungeon crawl.

G2 was not at all designed for OSR play. With a little help—perhaps reimagined as a stealthy political intrigue and rescue mission—it could easily make a make for a great time in OSR fashion.

However, I didn't read G2 to offer a critique. I read it for inspiration. For that, it delivered in spades. 

I'm looking forward to using all the inspiration I gained from reading this classic masterpiece. 

Maybe someday I'll get to run it! 

Thanks for reading!

—Stripe