Freehanding Gone Wild

So the 35" x 25" aged 60-pound parchment paper arrived.

Map geek excitement building.  Dare I say my scroll case was pitching a tent.

I immediately developed two uses for my humonguous uber-paper for my Dunlyle campaign:

• Tolkeinesque overland maps, in black & white -- and in Judges Guild style, a player's map showing the "known world" for their own use and exploration (and, yes, marking on it!) and my own DM's map;
• Large freehand custom dungeon maps, in 1" = 5' scale for use as a gridless playing surface.  That's right -- no more wet-erase battlemat!  We will play on the map.  I will also take the opportunity to use color (pencils, mainly) where appropriate, though I'm going for a black & white aesthetic generally.

And then, when we're done with a particular dungeon map, the map will represent mapping by the player-characters.  It will be a map-log of the campaign.  I imagine the players will be making various notes on them -- much like their characters would.

Some practical issues -- obviously, I need to figure out a way to photocopy these before the players get their hands on them.  I don't want to have to redraw them.  Also, they are obviously vulnerable to spills, tears, etc.  Then there is the matter of storage -- I'm thinking of either buying a blueprint tube or getting a large luggage-like portfolio to carry them in.  Lastly, in game play I need to figure out a way to cover up the unseen map sections.

I'll post some pictures in my next post.  Exciting stuff -- it's a lot of work but I'm hoping my first playtest of Dunlyle with my home group goes well.  The first set of maps are for the campaign opening -- after that, at the end of each session I'll be asking them their next intentions so I can keep up with the mapping duties.

P.S. Next time, I'll order more paper.  At $.50 per page as of this writing, more than half the cost was shipping and packaging.

Current Project: Dunlyle

Well I've gone from posting twice daily to once every two weeks.  Rest assured this has not been idle time; the current project: Dunlyle, my campaign setting.  The end result is hoped to be a sandbox setting with optional "story line" elements, along these lines:

• Spiral/"Wire-O" bound (so as to be durable and to open flat) and tabbed, on durable paper stock
• Overview & Area Map
• Important NPCs
• Gazetteer & Local Maps
• Multiple dungeons fleshed out in One Page Dungeon style
• Campaign flowcharts and calendars

All of this, to echo my prior postings, will be done so that it is system-neutral though obviously flavored for D&D at its various offshoots and mutations.  In other words, the goal here is to be content-rich while maintaining utility to a wide range of games and DMs.  The book itself is intended to be both a campaign prep/background document as well as an in-game reference.

At present, the manuscript is completed but I am converting my traditional map & key dungeons into one-page dungeons and removing all system-specific references.

I would welcome your feedback on this proposed format.

Sample Dungeon Using Proposed Generic One-Page Format

Time to put my money where my mouth is.

Here's a sample dungeon using the one-page format I proposed in my earlier post:

Again, the idea here is to present a "keyless" OSR dungeon that is usable, generic/system-neutral, content-rich, and requires the DM to refer to no other scenario materials.  It also assumes the existence of DM Text backround that the DM read and customized pre-adventure; the map above is for in-game usage.

Thoughts, criticisms, and comments welcome as always.

(Really irritated here at my inking, by the way, the smudges and other marring is really annoying.  Need to find a way to cover up those errors.  Used my usual H pencil overwritten with 1 mm, .5 mm, and .1 mm sepia pens.  Also, I need a shading technique to better offset the rooms and halls from the white background.)

Amateur Gridless Mapping Tip #1: On Rulers and Stencils

As I continue in my journeys in "gridless" mapping (i.e., without graph paper), I have found that using a ruler and stencils is invaluable for buildings and dungeon floorplans.  Simply put, straight lines and even curves are generally more pleasing to the eye than the alternative, unless you are drawing a cave complex.  So, for those of you who want to learn from a fellow amateur's mistakes, I offer the following.

A good ruler or stencil is:

• in the correct shape (!)
• has a smooth edge with no flashing or nicks (plastic edges occasionally have a bit of flashing from the molding process -- they can be carefully cut off with a knife)
• easy to align with preexisting drawings
• easy to keep flush with the writing surface, to prevent slippage

Of these, the latter is surprisingly important, particularly if you are drawing lines longer than an inch or so.  If you do not have a heavy ruler or stencil, it is vital that you are able to hold the stencil securely against the paper, or your pen may slip under the edge and ruin your line.  I have had several otherwise very good drawings marred by such slips while inking.  If your edge is lightweight (as many plastic stencils are), take the time to reposition your non-drawing hand to hold the edge down securely while in mid-line.

In my experience, the size of the ruler or stencil is not a major factor, though because I often draw in a spiral-bound drawing pad, smaller edges tend to work better.  Larger edges are heavier and therefore better for prevention of slippage.

Of course, if you use a drafting table and t-bar, many of these issues (at least those pertaining to straight lines) go by the wayside.

Adventure Formats and the OSR

Some of the obvious accouterments of the old school renaissance have included intentional graphical and layout throwbacks to the previous era, particularly the Gygaxian format of adventure presentation.

OSR Format (roughly 1977 through 1983)

Using the Steading of the Hill Giant Chief as a template, the following format emerges as the traditional standard:

• Cardstock front and back cover with artwork/description
• Maps, typically on inside front and back covers (though sometimes at the end of the booklet)
• Booklet, staple-bound
• Short Introduction/DM Notes
• Fairly Short Background (Setting the scene, placement within game world, getting the PCs involved, etc.)
• Map Key, including wandering monsters, room descriptions, and descriptive artwork.  Text within the map key was kept brief except where further explanation was needed.
• Appendices (New spells, monsters, treasures, player handouts and artwork, etc.)

This is fairly typical of pre-Hickman TSR fare, all of which can be fairly said to be within the OSR wheelhouse.  Judges Guild materials of that era follow an analogous format, although virtually none had a cover and maps were usually printed inside the booklet or were separate fold-out affairs.

Later Tweaks & Content Bloat

As the game matured, the format of adventures was tweaked.  The biggest changes were in two areas: backround/story-related material (for Hickmanesque storyline-driven games) and in the quantity and bulk of text included in the product.

Once adventures became less site-based/sandboxy and more story-based, larger amounts of background and story material were required to guide DMs through various story flowcharts and matrices.  NPCs, in particular, became much more fleshed out and given a life of their own.  While the point of this was to enhance the "story" and dramatic aspects of the game, it undoubtedly contributed to content bloat within published adventures.  It further made the products less adaptable for individual DMs -- more story details require more work to customize to one's own game-world.

The other content infusion of note was the addition of descriptive "boxed text."  While the goal was laudable -- to provide greater immersion and verisimilitude -- the inclusion of subjective descriptors left some DMs (and many more players!) feeling that they were reading from a script and trapped by the content.  If the author was not both brief and evocative, boxed text became a millstone around DMs' necks.

Other tweaks to the format included improved quality maps and experiments with different types of maps, such as the famous quasi-3D iso maps of Ravenloft.

Encounter Format

One of the more irritating-to-grognards developments in late 3rd and most 4th edition adventures was the advent of what can be called "encounter format," in which everything needed to run a particular encounter was generally (though not always) on one page or two facing pages.  Thus, a detailed dungeon room, its monsters (and their game stats) and all tactics and "developments" were listed in one place.

While generally hated by the OSR due to the "encounter" nomenclature and the size of stat blocks necessitated by later editions of the game, the encounter format has one big advantage -- utility.  All of the traditional formats require a DM to juggle no less than three documents -- the map, the key, and at least one rulebook (usually the DMG or Monster Manual).  The encounter format eliminated that juggling and allows a DM to focus on the players, the flow, and the game rather than shuffling papers about.  This philosophy has developed its own subculture of sorts via the "One Page Dungeon" contest.

Building a Composite OSR Format: Goals

My mission statement, therefore: 

OSR content should be adaptable, easy to use, evocative, creative, and customizable. 

I would further add that we, as consumers of said content, should value such publications on these merits alone and not, say, by its sheer size or bulk.  Furthermore, OSR publications must by necessity adhere to the OGL -- requiring either close adherence to OGL rules or a more generic approach so as not to violate the license.  I advocate the generic approach simply because everyone is seemingly playing a different game.  Within the OSR itself there are at least three major subsets -- white box, Basic, and AD&D systems -- and substantial variation in basic game mechanics.

I therefore propose the following format for OSR site-based adventures:

• Notes/Introduction
• Background (brief)
• Small-scale overland map (optional)
• Unified large-scale map showing the entire site and labelling its sections
• Sectional small-scale maps done in "one page dungeon" style (i.e., "show me don't tell me") with clear links to other sections
• Appendices

By eliminating the Gygaxian map-and-key format and later hyper-wordy formats, the DM is given what he needs -- introductory materials to read and digest for application into his own game-world, and in-game materials to use while sitting at the table playing.  The "one page" sectional map format, by necessity, will provide brief information in order to avoid OGL problems and to keep it adaptable, it should be as generic as possible in terms of game mechanics and statistics.  The downside to this, of course, is that it will require that the DM either adapt the content to his rules system beforehand or have the rulebooks handy during play.

For those wanting to inject a "plotline" into OSR adventures, a slightly expanded background section and a one-page story flowchart is recommended for in-game reference.

So what do you think?  Would you consider buying and using a scenario in my format as described?  How strong is the pull of sentimentality of the Gygaxian format?  Is the size/bulk of a publication relevant to your perception of its value?

Experiments in Drawing and Lettering

After a two-week hiatus caused by garage sales, the demands of parenthood and matrimony, and a job relocation, I return.  Below is Castle Rockabie, a location in my Dunlyle setting.  For those who care, this is on 80# drawing paper, originally drawn in H pencil with the aid of a few stencils, then gone over in sepia ink pen in varying widths: 1mm, .5 mm, and .1 mm.  Some quick notes:

The point of this was threefold: to have fun designing something in my campaign area, to experiment with line drawing and lettering, and to prove to myself that the one-page keyless concept was usable.

I am pleased overall with the line-drawing and design.  On the layout, I wish I'd moved the third floor over a bit and given more separation to the small minimap at the bottom of the page.  My lettering is uneven and as you can see I am struggling to find my own style -- it's a mash of wannabe architect, comic lettering, and my own scrawl.  One of the biggest challenges has been to slow down while lettering.

I am not happy with my weak little castle drawing in the upper right corner.  Bleh.  My attempt at an ivy-covered wall makes it look like a giant bush, fire, cave-in, or some other calamity rather than the regal foliage I had envisioned.  I think I'll always be more of a layout/design guy than an illustrator.

Lastly, I now see the value of getting a drafting table with a T-bar ruler (I forget the correct term for it) so that lines are properly horizontal and vertical.  Eyeballing the registration of my lines produces some uneven results, most easily seen in the "Garden" description text.

Anyway, it was a fun experiment and I will try a similar concept with a dungeon environment, using the text areas as a true key.

Wilderness Terrain Generation Project

One of my current projects involves rules for generation of wilderness terrain on both a continental and regional level for all game systems.  My idea is in the testing stages, but I've noticed some interesting phenomena in some of my mechanics and assumptions.

Starting Assumptions

• Some people will want to generate Big Picture aspects of the game world (world size, axial tilt, number of moons, etc.) and others will either pick or assume these aspects, or not care in the first place.
• The aspects of a terrain we need to know, on a continental basis, are the presence of: salt water, fresh water, elevation, predominant vegetation, and intelligent-life settlement.
• Terrain comes in bunches -- it's not "choppy," though there are pockets of varying terrain.  I have come up with a simple mechanic to determine "sameness" from hex to hex.
• Hills are near mountains -- whether due to tectonics, glaciation, or volcanic activity
• Forests are more likely near fresh water sources -- I'm frankly not sure if this is actually true, but it feels right

What's interesting here, beyond the assumptions themselves, is the effects of combination of these assumptions and the inclusion or removal of the "sameness" mechanic.

Order and Method of Generation

The assumptions dictate a certain order of terrain generation; you have to know whether mountains and/or fresh water are present before you can generate elevation and vegetation.

The question then becomes how to generate these baseline elements (coastline/mountains/fresh water) with a simple mechanic and optional user choice.

Weather and Rainfall

One of the harder elements to simulate is that of weather.  There are deserts, for instance, in every latitude of the Earth (some of which are fairly close to fresh water features), and areas of forest without a lot of water on the ground.  Put another way, the mere presence or absence of lakes and rivers is insufficient to determine the prevailing vegetation.  Simulating this in a simple way is tricky.

Mapscale

On the continental level, a larger scale is necessary so that you can create a map of a sufficiently large area within a manageable mapspace.  The scale also has to be small enough to depict fresh water sources (which determine vegetation) in a meaningful way.  I presently believe about 50 miles to the inch is an appropriate continental/campaign map scale, and 2 miles to the inch on a regional/local level.

Fun

Generating a world or campaign map should be a fun experience.  I'm experimenting with many different ideas to inject ease of use, creativity, and fantasy into the process.  I want to make sure this isn't completely antiseptic and scientific for those who want funkiness and ways to generate campaign ideas.

Dungeon Engineering, Room Density and the Space Between

Ragnardbard inspired this post, via his beautiful maps for the "storeroom" DIY level of the Vault of the Mad Archmage.  One thing leapt out to me immediately: the tightly-packed nature of sections of the dungeon level.  I liked it, but I realized immediately I would never have drawn it that way because of my own preferences and biases.

For you see, to my dungeon engineer's eye, you've got to have Space Between!

Compare, for instance, these two classic D&D maps:

Quasequeton is packed.  The Tower of Zenopus (as the Homes D&D dungeon has been called) is sparse.  I fall somewhere in the middle here, with an acknowledged preference towards having some space between rooms, usually 10' worth.

I find it amusing that I care about such things in a fantasy world that is home to monstrous levitating meatballs with eye stalks, but I imagine somehow that without such a rock buffer my dungeon would structurally fail.  This would seem to be more true the deeper one goes -- more support needed for all that rock-weight above.  Thus, I look at Quasequeton and see a proverbial house of cards, albeit one with some magic pools on the seven of hearts. 

But then I eye Zenopus' abode and say, "my, that's an awful lot of wasted space.  That seems less functional."  Without a design goal (like, say, to reach the underground river in area M), why tunnel when you don't have to?  Couldn't all of rooms A - J been put closer together and achieved the same functionality?

Here's something more up my alley, though it's certainly more Zenopusian than in my preferred middle ground:

The Moathouse dungeon works for me despite its relative sparseness -- though I think Gygax could have fit several more rooms in here easily without having the Moathouse crater upon itself.  Gygax's own above-ground structures were more packed (needing less support) while his caverns and dungeons had Space Between to one degree or another.

Torn between realism and functionalism, and asking myself WWGD, I have suconsciously decreed that a 10' minimum Space Between has become my default for underground designs.  Armed with this, I can effectively suspend disbelief and maintain functionality and design flow. 

I just have to catch myself to not do this above-ground, though.  10' spaces between everything is not functional in a building, unless we are discussing exterior castle walls.

I think I need to go out and draw a dozen outdoor hedge mazes now to break myself of this. Ah, the little internal boxes we make for ourselves, eh?

Greyhawk and the Fall of Judges Guild

It's 1983, and Dungeons & Dragons, despite the documented problems within TSR's ownership group, is apparently doing well by all external measures.  Its core gamer base remains in an expansion mode despite the protestations of satan-fearing religious types, and many of the kids and adults who started playing over the prior eight years are clamoring for new and better content and game aids.  While TSR was fighting its own internal battles, a few hundred miles south in Decatur, Illinois, a competitor and sometimes-friendly colleague in the RPG publishing business, Judges Guild, is in deep trouble.

I am not breaking any news here, but my thesis is that JG was at its best in publishing two categories of gaming product: campaign setting content and maps related to the Wilderlands of High Fantasy, and game aids (tables, charts, and mapping materials) for use in the Wilderlands or in homebrew settings.  JG was at its weakest, with a few notable exceptions (Tegel Manor and Dark Tower among them), in writing adventures and rules-related offerings.  In this way, JG was a great complimentary publisher to TSR, which had roughly opposite strengths and weaknesses.

To give you an example of why I adore JG campaign materials:

A "Player Map" of Tarantis: Campaign Map Four, printed in 1977

For its time, JG printed wonderful maps.  Not because they were beautiful (though I thought they were), but because they were big, they were on the faux-parchmentish paper, and because you were expected to write on them and actually use them.  The Player Maps were exactly that -- to be filled out as the players explored the unknown, with only a coastline, a few rivers, and some distant mountain ranges to guide them.  Now THAT is how you sandbox, people.

So as you read this post, please don't think I'm dancing on JG's grave.  If anything, I am angry that this company didn't recognize and capitalize on its niche while it had the opportunity.  Bledsaw and Owens, the main operators of JG in the 70s, had a virtual monopoly on officially-licensed campaign settings.  They came up with two fabulous ideas: (1) the Wilderlands itself, a huge sandbox of a game-world (really, about the size of Europe) and (2) an ahead-of-its-time subscription-based publishing strategy to put out setting-related materials, supplemented by the Pegasus magazine, one of the main functions of which was to promote and support the Wilderlands setting.  They had a good plan.  They did not execute the plan.

With respect to the maps of the Wilderlands, 18 campaign maps (with mostly-blank Player versions) were published and distributed on or before 1978.  The often imititated, never duplicated, City State of the Invincible Overlord (launched in 1976) was the centerpiece of the game world.  JG's setting-related offerings (e.g., Modron, Shield Maidens of Sea Rune, Verbosh) often focused on nearby locations within easy reach of the City State.  Thus, in fairness, JG's main intent was in supporting City State-based campaigns, rather than necessarily expanding the Wilderlands.  The Wilderlands' next most substantial content-related expansion arguably was the 1980 release of the City State of the World Emperor, detailing the Overlord's main rival to the West and the surrounding lands.

In prior posts, I have more or less identified the core reasons for Judges Guild's fall (from a product standpoint only; I can't speak to JG's financials or ownership issues), to wit: low-quality and stale production values, poor art, missing-in-action editing, a tendency to regurgitate previously-published material, and a failure to adapt to the rapidly increasing sophistication of TSR's product line (as well as the D&D target market itself) in the early 80s.  The coup de grace, however, was JG's 1982 loss of the license to put the D&D and Advanced D&D logos on its products.  JG already was moving into second-class publisher status; the licensing debacle relegated it to the role of gonzo publisher -- though one with a fairly impressive back catalog.

The Kiss of Death

So in 1983, my guess is that Bob Bledsaw, one of the founders and the remaining owners of JG, decided to stick to what had worked in the past (and frankly, something that capitalized on his best personal skills -- writing and setting design), and published Tarantis, a city-state in the eastern portion of the Wilderlands of High Fantasy. 

At first blush, one would think this was a significant upgrade for JG, which in some sense it was.  A glossy color cover certainly was de rigueur in the early 80's.  As with many JG offerings, however, this was lipstick on a production pig, for under the single-page glossy cover, under the shrink wrap, were two 96-page staple-bound cheap paper books. 

To make matters worse, look what else came out in 1983:

As you will recall, this was the fabulous boxed set for which fans of D&D had been clamoring for years.  It had a polished gazetteer and of course the iconic Darlene Pekul map of the Flanaess.  Tarantis (as good as it is -- see below) -- had no shot.  This was the "game over" moment for JG, because TSR had officially gotten into the campaign setting business.  JG's Wilderlands of High Fantasy had a six-year virtual monopoly on this sub-industry -- and the World of Greyhawk smacked it aside like the proverbial redheaded stepchild.

As a side note, 1983 also saw the release of Ravenloft, which was in itself a seminal moment in the development of D&D.  JG had long since fallen behind the curve on adventure publishing, which TSR absolutely dominated since around 1978 (despite a few Paul Jacquays standout offerings for JG).

Now here's the punchline: remember the date on that Tarantis Player map?  1977.  When was Tarantis published?  1983.  Why did it take Judges Guild six years to publish Tarantis?  Or to put a finer point on it -- why couldn't Judges Guild fully flesh out the Wilderlands with a six year head start?

So to recap -- JG had no D&D license, third-class citizen status amongst the game-buying public, stale production and 1970s sensibilities -- and it lost primacy in its best category.  Frankly, they are fortunate TSR didn't get into the setting business sooner, because if Gygax had published the City of Greyhawk and World of Greyhawk early on in D&D's life-cycle, JG wouldn't have made it past 1978.

In the end, though, Tarantis was a largely forgotten product, which is sad.  As a whole, the Wilderlands is in some ways a superior product to the WoG, especially for OSR players.  I'll post my review of Tarantis in in the coming days.

Edit: a day late and a dollar short: Grognardia's retrospective on the Wilderlands makes many of my points for me -- as usual.  Looks like I'm playing catch-up!

For Your Consideration: Holy Sword

I've submitted my one-page dungeon, Holy Sword, to Alex Schroder, the affable organizer of the event.  With his permission, I'm going to go ahead and post Holy Sword right here, right now.




Click for Expandy Bits


I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

One-Page Dungeon 2012

This year's One-Page Dungeon contest is up and running, and I'm in.  I'll be submitting my freehand entry very shortly.  Best of luck to the other contestants!

I had a great time designing my entry, Holy Sword.  It's something I had kicked around for a bit but hadn't really considered for One-Page treatment until I started working on my freehand more and started to see the beauty of the key-on-map -- at least for my own use.  The next step was to make a key-on-map that was usable by other people that were coming to the product cold and with their own points of view.

One-Page, to me, means the following:

• Using as much of the page as possible within concept
• Going stat- and game-mechanics-free as possible -- both to save space as well as to keep it system-neutral
• Simple illustrations substitute for verbiage
• Brevity!  Less is more in descriptions!
• Providing real, usable content that is more than a skeleton or flowchart

Here's hoping my scanner can pick up the details and render them readable; I'd hate to start over!

Incredible color freehand mapping courtesy of the Vaults of the Mad Archmage

Ragnardbard is far too humble.  His work makes my meager sepia offerings downright pathetic.  What an inspiration, though!

VAULTS OF THE MAD ARCHMAGE: Gardens and Graveyard, colour...:

There are some seriously great freehand mappers out there.

More scrapbook map goodness

I've managed to transfer, edit, and expand some of my Dunlyle maps to the 12" square scrapbook paper format.  Not bad for amateur freehand, though I've yet to settle on techniques for lettering, shading, and how to draw more or less squared-off dungeons without using graph paper.  I noticed that, if I didn't rotate the paper or adjust my position, my rectangles started looking more like parallelograms.

A low-level complex, with multiple side-caves sprouting from a large central cavern

One dungeon level, along with exterior and overland mini-maps.

What I'm proudest of, though, is the use of my .1 mm sepia ink pen to key the maps on the maps themselves, for ease of use in running the dungeons.  This kind of shorthand is obviously great for DMs running their own material; many DMs coming to such a product cold will likely want a traditional written key.  Since I'm doing this for my own use and pleasure, however, it's more than acceptable for my own purposes.

Thanks to Zak for the idea (and stunning visual execution) of using the map/key combination, though in his case, he uses his own art, flair, and clip-art images to convey a lot of the information to himself, whereas I'm writing supersmall text on the map.

Freehand Mapping and My Unmanly Secret

In the course of writing my sandbox mini-setting of Dunlyle, I sketched several outdoor maps (about 5 miles to the inch) using different media and paper.  I tried pencil, pen, crayon (surprisingly effective, actually) and used plain paper, graph paper, and hexgrid.  I can now, of course, sketch out a Dunlyle map in my sleep.  But something was missing.

Over at the Cartographer's Guild I saw what was missing, other than artistic talent.  My maps just weren't cool.  Lacking in both patience and ability to use the computer drawing programs like Hexographer, I decided to go old school and abandon the grid (for now) ... which is where the Unmanliness crept in.

For you see, today I discovered the joy of scrapbooking materials.

My wife had been a scrapbooker for years and had all of the fancy papers, paper-cutters, stamps, stickers, and all of the paraphrenalia that goes along with this most Girly of hobbies.  What I found out, though, while perusing my local art supply store, was that scrapbooking has everything we gamers need for extremely cool maps -- while at the same time providing a built-in storage and protection system.

First, there's the paper.  Scrapbooking paper is wonderful.  I picked up a bunch of parchment-style cardstock paper that happened to be on sale.  So you have this durable, weighty bit of parchment-looking paper just waiting for your fantasy world or dungeon to explode upon it.

The size of scrapbooking paper (12" square) is also handy, providing roughly 50% more surface area upon which to sketch compared to 8 1/2" x 11" or A4 paper.  I find this to be a more naturally pleasing drawing surface; the shape of the paper is no longer an influence on my creative muse.

Here's Dunlyle on scrapbook parchment cardstock, after a few hours of my amateur artistic and calligraphic labors:

But wait, you say!  What about the hexgrid or square grid?

No problem, my budding Marco Polo.  Just run that bad boy through the printer, before or after you've freehanded the map.  Personally, I will be putting the grid on afterwords, if at all -- I don't want the presence of the grid to guide my pencil.

The scrapbooking accessories are also spot-on.  Want to dress up your maps with symbols you will use repeatedly?  Get a stamp and just ink that bad boy.  How about a cool border for your crypt, using skulls or black lace?  You can make it as kitschy or campy as you want.  Throw a Scooby-Doo sticker on there if it floats your boat.  Or, if you're an artiste like Zak, you could throw some web images on there and cut and paste yourself to an impressionistic dungeon masterpiece.

And then there is the scrapbook itself, a perfect place to store, transport, and admire your beautiful map.  It is bound so that the scrapbook paper doesn't have to be holepunched ... the holes are in the sheet protectors.  And those sheet protectors?  You can write on them with a wet-erase pen and never mark up your precious maps!

It gets even better when you realize that you could do entire dungeons on facing-page scrapbook pages ... map on one side, key on the other.