D&D Geekery
May. 13th, 2005 09:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
plonqToday on Dungeons, Alive! we are interviewing Galen "The Slammer" Gutbucket, renown dwarven trap designer.
Good morning, Galen.
Greetins' to ye.
I guess we should start off with the obvious question: why traps? Please tell us what motivates a young dwarf to wake up and think, "I'm going to become a trap designer."
Well, uh, it's not all traps y'see. I'm actually a mechanician by trade, and I even fancy meself as an interior decorator of sorts. Me true specialty is those fancy water fountains ye sees, with the stone fishes squirting water from their mouths. I like to think that I brought some cheeriness to the otherwise drab halls of the dwarven mines. There's a lot of engineering goes into those fountains that's invisible behind the scenes. They're a true marvel of modern technology.
But why traps?
Many of my fellow dwarves often asked me that as well. "Faith and Begorrah, Galen. Why are ye building a slam-down-wall trap in our mess hall?" I'd tell them, "Laddies, this won't always be a mess hall in a comfortable dwarven haven. Some day this vibrant mine will break through into the fetid underworld of unspeakable horrors, and the mine will be overrun by all manner of monsters and vermin. When that day comes, lads, you're gonna need a few traps. No dungeon is complete without traps."
You've designed quite a few traps in your time. Do you have any favourites?
T'is hard to beat the elegant simplicity of a spiked-pit trap. I made a lot of those, but I dunno if I would classify it as me favourite. I'm also quite fond of the chopping-halberd-statue trap, but I've always considered the slam-down-wall trap to be the jewel in me crown. T'is a true marvel of engineering with its delicate mix of gothic mechanics and anachronistic hydraulics.
When a party of adventurers meets with one of me slam-down-wall traps, I don't think they properly appreciate all'a the work and love that went into th' manufacture of it. Years of engineering and craftsmanship are poured into each part, which must be milled to exacting specifications. Me slam-down-walls can crush bone and send blood spraying for thirty feet, but the mechanics are so delicate that a wee bairn could swivel the parts with a pinkie.
Building traps must present a unique range of challenges. What is the hardest part of building a trap?
At risk of sounding sentimental, the hardest part is when ye turn the final bolt into place and ye have to say, "There ye be, little trap. You're all done now. I kinna be around to fix ye when ye break."
There are other challenges too, mind ye. Ye have to build a trap smart. The mechanism must be able to tell the difference between a casual orc or gelatinous cube and an adventurer. Ye can't have it smashing all the denizens of the dungeon. I guess, though, that I'd truly have to say that the hardest part is the ominous click.
Ominous click?
Aye. There is an exact timing required to allow the adventurers that "oh shit" moment before the trap springs. If ye make the time too long, they can run away before they can be smitten by a cold, impartial, pointless death. If the time is too short, then they have nae enough time to stew in the juices of icy terror before the inevitability of their demise. T'is a delicate balance.
Since you will never be around to see your traps in action, where is the job satisfaction?
T'is true that I never get to see me traps in action, but I know that sometime in the distant future, when this has become a vermin-infested crumbling relic of post-dwarven architecture, some thief - hopefully elven - will fail his roll and trip me trap. The rest of his gore-spattered party will shake angry, impotent fists at the ceiling and cry, "Damn you, slam-down-wall trap guy! Damn you to the seventh level of Hades!" He pauses to wipe a tear from his eye. That's when it was all worth it.
Thank you Galen.
Good morning, Galen.
Greetins' to ye.
I guess we should start off with the obvious question: why traps? Please tell us what motivates a young dwarf to wake up and think, "I'm going to become a trap designer."
Well, uh, it's not all traps y'see. I'm actually a mechanician by trade, and I even fancy meself as an interior decorator of sorts. Me true specialty is those fancy water fountains ye sees, with the stone fishes squirting water from their mouths. I like to think that I brought some cheeriness to the otherwise drab halls of the dwarven mines. There's a lot of engineering goes into those fountains that's invisible behind the scenes. They're a true marvel of modern technology.
But why traps?
Many of my fellow dwarves often asked me that as well. "Faith and Begorrah, Galen. Why are ye building a slam-down-wall trap in our mess hall?" I'd tell them, "Laddies, this won't always be a mess hall in a comfortable dwarven haven. Some day this vibrant mine will break through into the fetid underworld of unspeakable horrors, and the mine will be overrun by all manner of monsters and vermin. When that day comes, lads, you're gonna need a few traps. No dungeon is complete without traps."
You've designed quite a few traps in your time. Do you have any favourites?
T'is hard to beat the elegant simplicity of a spiked-pit trap. I made a lot of those, but I dunno if I would classify it as me favourite. I'm also quite fond of the chopping-halberd-statue trap, but I've always considered the slam-down-wall trap to be the jewel in me crown. T'is a true marvel of engineering with its delicate mix of gothic mechanics and anachronistic hydraulics.
When a party of adventurers meets with one of me slam-down-wall traps, I don't think they properly appreciate all'a the work and love that went into th' manufacture of it. Years of engineering and craftsmanship are poured into each part, which must be milled to exacting specifications. Me slam-down-walls can crush bone and send blood spraying for thirty feet, but the mechanics are so delicate that a wee bairn could swivel the parts with a pinkie.
Building traps must present a unique range of challenges. What is the hardest part of building a trap?
At risk of sounding sentimental, the hardest part is when ye turn the final bolt into place and ye have to say, "There ye be, little trap. You're all done now. I kinna be around to fix ye when ye break."
There are other challenges too, mind ye. Ye have to build a trap smart. The mechanism must be able to tell the difference between a casual orc or gelatinous cube and an adventurer. Ye can't have it smashing all the denizens of the dungeon. I guess, though, that I'd truly have to say that the hardest part is the ominous click.
Ominous click?
Aye. There is an exact timing required to allow the adventurers that "oh shit" moment before the trap springs. If ye make the time too long, they can run away before they can be smitten by a cold, impartial, pointless death. If the time is too short, then they have nae enough time to stew in the juices of icy terror before the inevitability of their demise. T'is a delicate balance.
Since you will never be around to see your traps in action, where is the job satisfaction?
T'is true that I never get to see me traps in action, but I know that sometime in the distant future, when this has become a vermin-infested crumbling relic of post-dwarven architecture, some thief - hopefully elven - will fail his roll and trip me trap. The rest of his gore-spattered party will shake angry, impotent fists at the ceiling and cry, "Damn you, slam-down-wall trap guy! Damn you to the seventh level of Hades!" He pauses to wipe a tear from his eye. That's when it was all worth it.
Thank you Galen.
