If I say the word “dungeon” to you — assuming I’m talking about games; leave any thoughts of leather-clad masochists chained to the ceiling beams while straddling a wooden horse for the moment — what springs to mind?
The term “dungeon” can mean lots of different things, even within the RPG genre.
In traditional top-down RPGs such as Final Fantasy and Dragon Quest, the term “dungeon” is used to distinguish specific locations from the overworld map, and to further distinguish those locations as being dangerous rather than safe havens where you can buy things and heal up. Usually they’re semi-linear in nature, with a clear start and end point, usually with a boss monster right at the end, followed by a story event and, if the designers are feeling nice, a teleport back to the surface.
In modern massively multiplayer RPGs, meanwhile, the term “dungeon” is used to describe instanced content that is completely separate from the game’s main open world, and which is designed to be played through by a specific number of players. They are usually completely linear in nature, given the unpredictability of humans when brought together in a group and the impracticality of exploration when combat requires everyone to be present in the same place, and usually make their encounters the focal point of the experience, with boss encounters challenging players to understand and react appropriately to various mechanics.
In action-adventure RPGs such as the Legend of Zelda series and its imitators, the term “dungeon” is used in a similar way to in traditional top-down RPGs: it’s a dangerous location separate from the main overworld. In Zelda-likes, though, dungeons tend to be less linear — or at least have the appearance of being so — and much more puzzle-based, requiring exploration and creative use of items to progress instead of just pure combat skills.
In dungeon crawlers, meanwhile, dungeons are incredibly complicated beasts that present as much of a challenge — if not more so — than the often frequent combat in the games. And, given that dungeoneering is the focal point of these titles, that’s a very good thing indeed; while linear dungeons with predictable encounters may work well for more narrative-heavy experiences, dungeon crawlers tend to be heavy on the mechanics and restrict narrative for the most part to being a reward for progressing.
Let’s take Dungeon Travelers 2, which I’m currently playing, as an example. Here’s a screenshot showing the map of just one of the floors of the Mostar Catacombs, a mid-game dungeon that seems to give a fair few people online a bit of grief. (Credit to xChaosLokix on GameFAQs for the pic.)
Mostar in particular seems to confuse people quite a bit because it is about as far from linear progression as you can get. You don’t clear the first floor and then go on to the second one; navigating Mostar is a complicated affair that constantly sends you back and forth between its two floors using ladders, pit traps and teleporters. On top of that, you also have to deal with Dark Zones, where the visibility is lower and you can’t look at your map, along with traps, hidden doors, one-way passageways and all manner of other goodies.
Likewise, the other dungeon crawler that I’ve previously invested time into, Demon Gaze, had some marvelously fiendish mazes to navigate, with hazards ranging from water currents that drag you uncontrollably from one place to another — very frustrating when you can see that where you want to be is just over there — to floor tiles that deal damage or do unpleasant things to your party, but which are the only way through a particular passageway.
I absolutely love this. One of my favourite things to do in this type of game is to explore, and dungeon crawlers reward thoroughness with a wonderful feeling of satisfaction: the knowledge that not only have you bested the monsters in the dungeon, but you’ve bested the dungeon itself. This isn’t an exaggeration, either; in both Demon Gaze and Dungeon Travelers 2 — and I don’t doubt this happens in other dungeon crawlers too, though my knowledge on the subject is more limited than I’d like it to be — there are times when you’ll find your progress stymied not by the power level of the enemies you face in battle, but by the very design of the dungeon confounding your sense of direction or hiding its secrets behind illusionary walls or on the other side of deadly traps.
You just don’t get this level of dungeon design in other types of RPG, and that’s fine — if the Final Fantasy series plopped you into a dungeon that took 6 hours to navigate in between every major plot point, I doubt people would have the patience to see their stories through to their conclusions — but it gives dungeon crawlers a very distinct identity, even within the RPG genre. And I really like that a whole lot.
While many RPGs are worth playing for the story and characterisation — areas in which neither Dungeon Travelers 2 nor Demon Gaze slouch, it has to be said — the real highlight of dungeon crawlers is in exploring these weird and wonderful mazes that someone came up with, and feeling either the frustration and terror of becoming completely lost, or the jubilant sense of triumph that comes with finally locating the stairs up to the next floor, or unlocking that door that has been taunting you ever since you came into the area for the first time.
I’m 36 hours into Dungeon Travelers 2 at the moment and I get the impression I still have a very long way to go. I’m looking forward to the continued journey if what I’ve experienced so far is any indication of the bare minimum I can expect to be challenged with later in the game!