The Setting Sun: Twilight of Elthar

The Fall of Elthar... okay, it's the Fall of Rome by Thomas Cole, but imagine!

Thousands of years ago, the Eltharian Empire was a beacon of enlightenment, justice and hope in the world. Descendants of the Archons, the true men, they were of noble stature and long lived. After the passing of the Titans, they founded the city of Elthar. A modest city of craftsmen, merchants and fishermen, it would eventually rise to greatness. They tamed the Midsea, defeating the pirate nations, and making it safe for fishing and trading fleets. Demand for resources led to an appetite for military conquest and annexation, until eventually Eltharia ruled over the entire Midsea basin. 

The rival kingdom of Setesh, an ancient kingdom ruled by sorcerers, contested the Eltharian bid for domination, and the two powers fought a multigenerational war, until the mighty Sorcerer-Pharoahs were eventually defeated and driven south into Upper Setesh. 

In its darkest hour, the Eltharian Senate appointed a dictator, Galorean, to command the Republic’s armies. He dutifully turned the tide of battle and ensured Eltharian victory, but then became drunk on power. He refused to relinquish his powers and declared himself the first Emperor of Elthar, buoyed by popular acclaim for ending the war. The Senate was unable to resist, and thereafter became a largely irrelevant body.

Emperor Jartus lead the first crusade against the rising necromancers in the Forest Crescent of the Lakbans, a struggle took six crusades and a hundred years before the threat was extinguished. 

Later emperors lead campaigns against the mighty storm giants of the Southern Wornspine and their dwarven allies, the Bullywug bogs and serpents of the Wrymfenns, the goblin empire of Mok’dan, and finally against the great magical Elven kingdom of Eyrndor which frequently raided the northern coast, attacking Eltharian encroachments into sacred fey forests. This led to centuries of animosity, and Elven curses that crippled the Archon bloodlines.

Aside from martial pursuits, the Eltharian Emperors implemented just legal codes (such as the Laws of Emperor Lyrean), built public buildings and monuments, settled dozens of new cities and connected them all with an extensive road system. They founded the Order of Celestial Wizards, the City of Starfall and the Fraternity of Thaumaturgy to research high magics, and sent out expeditions to the far corners of the earth. Knowledge, trade and the arts flourished.

With the seeming defeat of all earthly foes, great riches and security, the ruling class eventually fell into indolence. Hedonism, cruelty and corruption spread through the empire like a plague, enhanced by dark magics. Sadistic gladiatorial games became the most popular form of entertainment. Aristocrats created vast slave combines which drove free farmers into insolvency and serfdom.

The Eltharians became corrupted by the undead foes they had so stalwartly fought for generations: the thousands of powerful relics and tomes they had seized, suffused in necromantic magics and placed in deep vaults beneath the Imperial Palace in Eltharia, leaked their malign influence into the earth and finally the world above. 

Before his death, Emperor Trahl the Great divided the empire into three separate administrative regions: Elthar, Catharn and Setesh, which he bequeathed to his three sons: Malerean, Agmanus and Gallar. For a time, the Empire prospered, even expanded: Malerean seized several islands from the Sea Kings, Agmanus absorbed Scythia and forced a peace with the Dragon Riders of Xan, and Gallar conquered Kanush. A decade later, however, the brothers had become bitter rivals. The triad finally fell out over a territorial dispute (over Naxos) which escalated into civil war.

The three sides were evenly matched: Elthar had greater wealth, but Catharn had more manpower, while Setesh could call upon powerful ancient magics. Neither side was able to secure a quick victory, and all were too stubborn to contemplate a truce. As the war ground on, the rival Emperors turned to desperate measures. Alliances with dragons and other monstrous beasts were struck, and plagues too small to see were unleashed. 

When Elthar’s navy was defeated at the Battle of Orinthal, Emperor Malerean broke the ultimate taboo: in order to stave off the invasion of Elthar itself, he turned to the Black Vaults. Writer and senator Casan claims in his Histories that Malerean was already obsessed with death and had begun necromantic rituals in secret to gain immortality. With the help of dark magic, Catharn’s forces were driven back, and Elthar was saved. 

Elthar’s high priests, however, were appalled by the shadowy advisors the Emperor now surrounded himself with. The Heirophont Innocan issued a Holy Decree denouncing Malerean as The Abomination and incited the population into open revolt. Two opportunistic governors, Aetus and Ostono declared themselves emperor, and turned their armies against both each other and Malerean. Aetus held the provinces of Eryndor, Anvou, Aragon, Livonia, Thiryndor, Yore, Rossaon and Avendil, while Ostono had the allegiance of the imperial legions in Salesia, Uzice, Halych, Vylach, Morea and Sylvania.   

Malerean declared himself Hierophant-Emperor, purged the Church of the All-Being, and declared The Order of the Dawn corrupt heretics. His Crusade of the Pure saw Dawn temples and assets seized, and members of the order executed en masse. A portion of their wealth was distributed to the mobs who participated in the lynchings.

Unfortunately, it also removed a powerful bulwark of the state: The Fleet of Dawn fled Elthar to the island of Tol Eressia and the fortress city of Gwalior with the Hierophant’s entourage, and even more importantly, much of the church’s treasury. They quickly made peace with both Catharn and Setesh. 

Catharn and Setesh had problems of their own: foreign powers, aware that the garrisons of the empire’s perimeter had been stripped to feed the civil war, stepped into the gap. Under pressure in the east from the centaur clans, hordes of barbarians, trolls, goblins and orcs flooded into now defenceless imperial provinces, raping and pillaging as they went. At the same time, Setesh saw the long exiled sorcerer-priests return ahead of undead legions, while Kanush rebelled and asserted independence once again. The reptilian Mekara seized the coastal fortress of Tjaru, threatening the Seneb Delta.

The Sea Kings, independent pirate realms outside the Great Pillars, returned to the Midsea and raided the northern coast, making off with slaves and booty.

Worse was to come. 

Barbarians rampage across Elthar... okay, it's a painting by Ulpiano Checa about the Fall of Rome. Again. Look, Rome's been on my mind. 

In the east, Kiron united the centaur clans, and forged an alliance with the dragons of the Draconduns. He then invaded Shantung, conquering the Eternal Empire in under ten years. He placed his ally, the great dragon Vagandur, on the throne as governor and turned his armies west. 

Kyr Aklyros invaded Albyron and toppled the fledging realm of Aetus, while the Kha-Kyr, Kiron himself, led his forces into the Anhar Peninsula against Catharn. He seized the wealthy trading city of Zulathar through subterfuge, and after defeating a field army led by General Elaganus, laid siege to the mighty city Cathar itself. It was widely believed to be impregnable, being ringed by three concentric  60 foot high walls and powerful enchantments. 

In Kiron’s wake, whole cities were razed and provinces laid waste. Hundreds of thousands of slaves were marched east to work on the centaur’s massive lightning mounds, dedicated to the Centaur War God Khrun. Kiron’s horde became known as The Scourge of All.

After nine long months, just when the fall of Cathar seemed certain, Vagandur broke his alliance with Kiron and declared himself Dragon-Emperor of Shantun. Incensed by this betrayal, Kiron turned his armies east to deal with Vagandur, saving Cathar from catastrophe. Kiron would die by an assassins blade before he reached Shantun.

The damage, however, had been done. The Triad of Eltharian Empires had depleted their treasuries and manpower, and could not reassert control over rebellious provinces, nor block the influx of barbarians. 

Malerean’s oppression of the All-Faith resulted in great discontent; he was torn from his litter and assassinated in the forum, on his way to the Coliseum of Glory, by a group of religious fanatics wielding poisoned blades. Malerean had no children; over the next year there would be four claimants to the throne, each of whom would be assassinated, or commit suicide, after a few months on the throne. Stability returned with the ascension of Balbinar, an experienced and ruthless general.

Unfortunately, Balbinar’s forces were exhausted by the civli war, and could not prevent the Eternal City of Eltharia from being sacked by the Sea Kings. After that, trade and grain supplies collapsed, and the great city dwindled away, becoming known as Glory’s Shadow. To compensate for the decline in their military power, Emperor Cortinax founded the Eyes of Elthar, an organization of spies and assassins that worked to manipulate the politics of the continent in Elthar’s favour. The Imperial Throne was fought over even more fiercely during this period of decline; the Imperial Guard sold the throne to a dozen senators over the next few decades, only to later turn upon and murder them.

In Setesh, Agmanus was overthrown by the sorcerer-priests, who established a dark theocracy worshipping Sutekh. He fled to Mystilla Island and then to Naxos, where he established a court in exile. Some say Agmanus was embalmed alive and became a lich, like a Setesh Pharaoh of old; whatever the truth may be, he lives to this day, a calculating and machiavellian creature like his dead brother Malerean. 

Gallar fared best through this series of catastrophes, managing to hold on to the provinces of Beldor, Catharn, Tymeria, Dalmach, Talondor and the Malar Islands. Krim, Scythia, Kumad, Sarai, Anwar, Cthonia, and Sahar however were all lost to Imperial control. 

Gallar lived for another century, thanks to the constitution of his Archon blood. Upon his death, his thirty-seven children slaughtered each other over the throne, until his ruthless daughter Aerpina emerged triumphant. Some say Aerpina imbibed the vampire sickness, to achieve immortality, and that to this day she rules Catharn from the shadows, while her descendants sit upon the throne. The Church of the All-Being is still the official religion of Cathar, headed by the Supreme Patriarch. The Patriarchs claim to lead the True Faith, just as the God-Emperor of Elthar and the Hierophant do; each calls the others The Abominations, Mouth of Lies. 

The Long Night

New kingdoms arose, in time, out of the ruins of empire, merged with the fresh blood of the barbarian peoples: the Yoreans, Asturoths, Aostans, Calendes, Avalares, Thiryn, Rugens, and Salese.

Mercenary armies of nomadic peoples who had served Elthar in its twilight era settled around Livonia, establishing the nations of Avar, Avalon and Aragon. 

The Hierophant Hadras decamped from Gwalior to Iseria and the knights of Dawn carved out the Realm of the Holy See, whereupon the Hierophant sent out demands of fealty to the All-Being to all the emergent kingdoms.

Eadric, the King of Yore, attempted to unite the fractured lands into a new empire. He drove the goblins, orcs and trolls back into the Trollshaws and the Wornspine mountains, and slew the goblin king Uglocus. Hierophant Hadras demanded he submit to the All-Being and the Hierophant’s authority, but he refused. Hadras declared a holy war against King Eadric, labelling him a heretic. Beset from all sides, Eadric was forced to beg for forgiveness from Hadras, and stood barefoot in the snow outside the Basilica of All for three days before Hadras relented. Later, when angry giants descended from The Grip and waged war against the Holy See, Eadric refused to send military support. With the Order of Dawn away and engaged in the Lakbans, Hadras’ palace was only lightly defended, and he was ripped in two by the giant chief Grundoch Gutstuff and devoured. 

The Sea Kings settled in western Albyron along the north coast of the Midsea, and founded the powerful Merovian dynasty, conquering the Avalares, Calendes, Asturoth, Quent, and Dagonia. Missionaries of the All-Faith converted the Seven Sea Kings to the All-Faith and averted an invasion of the Holy See. The Sea Kings also wisely steered clear of the still powerful Black Fleet of Elthar, which became known as The Hermit Kingdom and cut off all trade and contact with the mainland.

King Eomel, one of the greatest Merovian kings after Thorvald the Unyielding, continued Eadric’s war against the goblins and trolls south of the Wornspine, and led a crusade through the mountain passes against a rising necromancer in the Hexewist. The troll-giant Ruhxahk, champion of the Necrolord, charged through Eomel’s bodyguard, slaying knights left and right, until Eomel struck the huge troll down with the Blade of Cantos. In his later years, Eomel went mad with paranoia, and massacred many Merovian nobles at his summer retreat of Druidun during an infamous Harvest Feast. This weakened the hold of the Merovians over Albyron; his children suffered similar fits of paranoia, with Asmund the Ruthless being best known for slaughtering the entire mining city of Spines for perceived disloyalty. 

Arcturus, who had been in his youth the youngest general of the Eltharian legions, left his long seclusion and led Avalon against their Merovian overlords, establishing an independent kingdom. Aided by Celestial Wizards, he marched his forces west and laid siege to the Merovian capital of Bloodstone, but was forced to retreat when King Olaf landed at Ironhelm and threatened Kingsgate. Arcturus defeated Olaf at the Battle of Deepford, and slew him in the river. For this, he is remembered as King Arcturus the Great. 

Olaf’s son, Rolf the Bold, seceded from the Sea King Alliance and asserted independence. Aosta, Calendon and Asturia soon followed, reducing The Twelve Sea Kings to Seven. 

In the forest crescent of the Lakbans, the new states were beset by necromancers fuelled by the dark energies that emanated from ancient lost tombs. Some say evil poured forth out of gates to the underworld, or that the spirit of fallen demons lived on in the earth. The Order of the Dawn launched crusade after crusade against the undead, but each time the threat seemed vanquished, it would fester in the shadows and return in force to plague a new generation.

Theo Paxstone and the Dragon of Adyron

Alternate cover for ol' Theo Paxstone

Be sure to check out my other fantasy work, Theo Paxtone and the Dragon of Adyron! It's a middle grade prose novel available from Amazon here.

The book blurb:

Theo Paxstone dreams of becoming a Steam Knight, and piloting a marvellous mechanical fighting machine in defence of the Kingdom of Adyron. He wants to be just like his idol, Sir Drake, who is showered with praise and admiration from sea to sea.

But Theo is just a boy mechanic, a virtual slave, in an orphan workshop run by a callous and exploitive owner.

Only Theo's dreams keep him going.

Everything changes when an enormous dragon sweeps out of the night and lays waste to the King's tournament. It wreaks destruction and then makes off with a young princess in it's clutches.

Outraged, Theo teams up with an elderly steam knight and his squire, and together the trio sets out to rescue the princess from the greatest and most dread beast to have ever lived.

Before long, Theo's view of the world is cast upside-down, as he discovers that heroes and villains are not always what, or who, they seem...

Traveller's Guide to the City of Forksbury

Nestled along the banks of the mighty Trent River, Forksbury is a bustling trading hub with deep roots in both history and commerce. Although secondary to the grand trading city of Juna, three days' march to the south, Forksbury thrives as a key stop for goods from the Midsea, drawing merchants, adventurers, and pilgrims alike. 

City Layout and Neighborhoods

Forksbury’s neighborhoods are distinct, each with its own charm and character, ranging from wealthy districts to areas of industry and trade.

• Aldgraves is the city's heart, home to the Caelan Basilica, with its grand catacombs and beautiful orchards. The Cindermarket and the Town Square, with its gleaming fountain, serve as bustling centers for trade and daily life. Here, you’ll find the City Hall, the Carpenter’s Guild, and the headquarters of the Midguild, which oversees trade across the Midsea.
• Ironmongers, often called Old Anvil by locals, is the district where blacksmiths and metalworkers ply their trade. This northern area of the city is also home to the Chandler Guild and Randolph's Emporium, a reputable shop for potions and tonics.
• Mayfair, stretching along the northwest city wall and riverbank, boasts views of the Trent River, with access to Northport, where river traffic from the north docks. This is a quieter district, favored by wealthier merchants and officials.
• Kingsburg, south of the Emberkeep, houses some of the city’s wealthiest families. The Emberheart family has ruled Forksbury for 200 years, with Baron Rogard residing in the Emberkeep alongside the Trent River. The grounds include orchards, gardens, and ponds, making it a beautiful yet secure stronghold.
• Tannery Row, running along the south wall of the city, is a hub of labor and industry. Parallel to Red Street, this district is known for its leather trade, a constant bustle of workers and tanners. Nearby, Almshood and St. Owain’s Church mark one of the poorer areas of Forksbury, where the Five Fingers gang is rumored to hold sway over the local criminal underworld.
• Panyers, near the Rivergate, leads travelers across the Milusbryg Bridge to Fort Caerberdin. It is a lively district, full of traders, inns, and riverfolk. If you're looking for a warm meal and good company, The Blue Fork Inn and Blackswan’s Tavern are favored stops for both locals and travelers.
• Vulcan’s Kitchen, in Ironmongers, is famed for its blacksmiths, while Poulters, south of the Arena of Mercia, offers a taste of Forksbury’s less glamorous, working-class life.

Landmarks and Notable Buildings

• Caelan Basilica: The religious and architectural marvel of Forksbury, the Basilica dominates the skyline. Its sprawling catacombs attract pilgrims and scholars alike, and its peaceful orchard offers a rare moment of quiet in the bustling city. The Bishop Ewina leads services here, presiding over the city’s religious affairs.
• The Arena of Mercia: This grand arena is a symbol of Forksbury’s Mercian heritage. Here, festivals, games, and grand tournaments take place, bringing in crowds from nearby towns and villages.
• Emberkeep: The seat of Baron Rogard and his family, the Emberhearts, this imposing fortress by the Trent River is both the city’s defense and a reminder of its noble lineage. The Baron’s influence over Pelshire and the surrounding lands makes this a seat of power worth respecting.
• The Curiosity Cabinet: One of Forksbury's more intriguing shops, Guthri's Curiosity Cabinet is renowned for rare and magical items. Located near the Masons Guild, it draws adventurers looking for that perfect enchanted weapon or trinket.

Guilds and Commerce

Forksbury’s wealth is driven by trade, both local and international. The Midguild regulates much of the city’s dealings with the Midsea, ensuring a steady flow of goods through Southport and Northport.

• The Mariners Guild oversees the ships and cargo that come through Port Mercermarch, located just outside the Portgate. This district is a maze of warehouses, shipyards, and taverns, a vital hub for those seeking passage or to trade goods from across the sea.
• The Mercer Guild controls much of the textile and cloth trade, ensuring the city's merchants remain competitive with neighboring cities like Juna. Their guildhall lies near the town square, close to the Masons Guild.

Points of Interest for Travelers

• Taverns and Inns: Whether you seek a lively evening of music and ale at Blackswan's Tavern or a comfortable stay at the Ramshead Inn, Forksbury offers a range of accommodations. For travelers wishing to explore the city’s seedy underbelly, the Red Goose Tavern in Almshood offers a less savory but interesting perspective on life in the city.
• Markets: The Cindermarket by the Town Square is the city’s primary open-air market, offering everything from fresh produce to finely crafted goods. Those venturing to the outskirts of the city may find unique treasures in The Brambles and Pellwick Orchards, just outside Northgate.

History and Legends

Forksbury’s history is entwined with the myth and legacy of the ancient Eotan, giant titans who once ruled much of the world. Legend holds that the Eotan brought necromancy into the world in their final years, leading to the eventual fall of their empire. Their influence is still felt in the limestone caverns beneath Forksbury, where ancient ruins, crypts, and dungeons attract explorers and adventurers eager to uncover the city’s forgotten past.

The city itself was settled over 1,000 years ago by the Mercians and has since grown into a key trading hub, though its turbulent history of conflict with the Avalar and rival baronies is never far from memory. Baron Rogard, who presides over Forksbury and its lands, remains ever watchful of his feuding neighbor to the west, Baron Sigulf of Walcastra.

Everything you ever wanted to know about goblins, from the Dragon Garage Appendices

Heroic Journey's Bestiary entry for Goblins, embedded with Dragon Garage. Because every fantasy book should have appendices:

Ur-goblins are bred for war by unscrupulous sorcerers, warlocks & witches, and can often be found in service to them; tree goblins and faerie gobelin (also known as pukwudgies) infest dark forests and often live in harmony with giant spiders. They are shunned by other faeries, and a war of pranks between the factions has been going on since Puk spiked the solstice brew at the Third Age Conjunction.

Goblins

Also known as orcus or cowcaddens, goblins are an unopopular species of nocturnal scavengers, known for their pasty white skin, clawed hands and feet, sharp yellow teeth, pointed ears and poor hygiene. Their eyesight is weak in daylight, but tapetum lucidum give them excellent night vision, complimented by keen hearing.

There are many subspecies, ranging from enormous deep cave monstrosities to winged imps (also known as pukwudgies), which engage in endless intercenine warfare. Long ago, scheming sorcerers interbred the worst and most brutish of humankind with goblins to produce the dread ur-goblins (war goblins), the only breed that can withstand sunlight without flinching.

Commonly found in northern and temperate climes, they dwell in marginal lands, such as hills, haunted forests, mildewy caves, dank ruins and windy mountains.

Goblins are known to partner with other foul species, such as dire wolves, serpents, dragons, bats and gaint spiders. They battle their mutual sworn enemies: humans, dwarves and (especially) elves. Dire wolf packs and spider clutches provide muscle and speed in exchange for goblin ingenuity, tool making and magics.

The deep blood hatred between goblins and elves goes back eons, and the origins of this mutual hatred has been lost to time.

Goblins have been known to form mercenary companies with humans, trolls, man-eating ogres and rogue faeries, but never elves or dwarves, whose company they cannot abide. Goblin mercenaries have been known to attack during daylight hours in order to catch villagers off guard.

Underground, goblins live on magical ghost fungus and lichens that exist in great plenty. Some are highly nutritious (if tough and tasteless) or poisonous; goblin shamans know which is which, and are experts at combining them into formidable potions. Cabbage, salt and garlic are often used in both food and potions.

Their society is pitiless, cruel and tribal: the weak are either purged (to avoid waste of resources), or used as ‘cannon fodder’ in battle. Cannibalism often occurs when mushroom crops fail.

Goblin armour is often brittle, as their smiths cannot match the level of skill their elven or dwarven counter- parts. Poison and dark enchantments can help compensate. They steal elven armour whenever possible.

Great Cave Goblins and Huppudums are sightless albino subspecies that live deep beneath the surface of the earth, and are allergic to sunlight. They bathe frequently and cover themselves with mud and shroompaste to cover their scent. Their tongue clicking can often be heard reverberating throughout vast underground caverns.

Dark lords (such as vampire, necromancers, evil princes, sorcerers, witches and evil spirits) often employ goblin armies, luring them with promises of vengeance against their ancestral enemies, or of gold and fertile land. As vampires are unable to digest goblin blood, and goblins cannot be infected with the vampire virus, the two species are frequent allies.

Goblins do not tan; sunlight burns their skin; if they must move about during daylight hours, it will be when it is cloudy or after imbibing fortifying mushroom brews.

Their language, Gobblese, is harsh and guttural; some say it is derived from elvish, which envious goblins stole and then bastardized.

Eternal opportunists, goblins will exploit any weakness they are presented with. They often loot battlefields for weapons, armour and food, unless ghouls get there first.

Goblins typically serve the narrative function of antagonist cannon fodder: pitiless, evil beings that can be smote in vast numbers without incurring guilt or moral judgement.

Faerie goblins may hold out wishes, but these will always come with a completely annihilating cost.

As an externalization and embodiment of human flaws, they relish in cruelty, sadism, greed, cowardice and selfishness.

They are the ying to the player yang. 

Players cannot be goblins.

Node vs. megadungeon RPG adventure design

The modern five room dungeon, arch-enemy of the megadungeon

I jumped back into D&D 5e as a DM straight from AD&D First Edition a year ago now. All my players are familiar with 5e, so our campaign is an old school retro-thrill for them.

I'm The Dinosaur DM, hauling into the light old school AD&D elements that they're unfamiliar with, in some cases for good reason. 

They're doing training between levels, for example, which was a roadblock mechanic from The Before Time, but one I always liked. It makes levelling up feel more earned, somehow. But it does slow things down, and 5e is about speeding everything up (including upleveling).

I really like Fifth Edition overall, it's much more streamlined and far more survivable. Some aspects of First Edition just weren't fun. A wizard who gets 1 spell to start spends a lot of time just trying to avoid dying. 

These days, players heavily invest in their character creation. It's less about a bunch of random no-name adventurers heading down into a dungeon to possibly become rich and powerful (or to be brutally slaughtered), and more about a bunch of already exceptional heroes setting out on their heroic journey. The specialness is baked into the 5e character from the get go, while in AD&D, only a few survivors made it to that status. 

There's a very different kind of game design philosophy at the root of it. For the most part, I think 5e takes the right path. On the other hand, it kind of defangs the fantasy world. 

I'm not out to kill characters, mind. You want to cut players slack... just not too much slack. Take away the possibility of dying, and the thrill wanes. KIll players too often and the fun wanes. 

But with the switch from characters starting out almost hapless, and trying to become exceptional, to 5e where they start out far more exceptional, is that they (quite understandably) want to prioritize their own personal journeys. Heck, the game could be called 'Heroic Journeys' (the name I gave the faux game in Dragon Garage), as the world revolves around the players much more than it used to. 

That brings me to node vs. megadungeon adventure design. 

A megadungeon is big and impersonal. It doesn't care about the players, one way or the other, and there's a  lot in there that isn't related to the player's personal journey. That, however, doesn't fit with the character focused gameplay of 5e. 

Players don't want to have to mess around with meaningless exploration: they want to get right to what's about them. To their personal journey. Who needs all that poking around in the dark?

That's where node based adventure design comes in: you create only encounters and situations that push the primary story along, and use a few random events and encounters to add a little padding/uncertainty. A node based game is far, far more streamlined and focused.

If they have to rescue someone, you set up a few key encounters along the way, but you don't have them wandering around a megadungeon trying to find their target. Players get bored quickly these days hence the popularity of the five room dungeon. 

This leads me to a fundamental question: is there any place for a megadungeon in 5e? The megadungeon doesn't revolve around the players personal mission. It's a big shift going from a character-centred universe to an indifferent, deadly universe that you're just visiting (before inevitably popping off the mortal coil). It may feel slow, unfocused, meandering, and bloated compared to modern game play. 

Personally, I like open world exploration games, where I'm not rail-roaded into fulfilling my journey (at least not right away), and I can take my time, smell the roses, kill the gerblins, that sort of thing. But that admittedly affects story flow, and can descend into meaninglessness.

The most efficient, streamlined way to tell a story through RPG mechanics is with node based adventures. It keeps things at a quick pace, and doesn't let the drama lag. And while it's more fulfilling drama and story wise... the megadungeon still feels more immersive.

What do you want from your flight of imagination?

One advantage of node based adventure design: it's a heck of a lot less work than building out an entire megadungeon complex! 

I've got 2 levels of the megadungeon keyed beneath Castle Druidun, and a third underway. I'm considering changing to node based design after that, depending on how things go with the players, and how much energy I have.

There's a really great flow map of various classic D&D dungeons here by Melan.

Dragon in my Garage - by Carl Sagan

Carl Sagan

I always liked this little ditty, and I've always admired Sagan. Maybe you can tell. Excerpted from Demon Haunted World by Carl Sagan. It's a good read:

 The dragon in my garage

by Carl Sagan

“A fire-breathing dragon lives in my garage.”

Suppose (I’m following a group therapy approach by the psychologist Richard Franklin) I seriously make such an assertion to you. Surely you’d want to check it out, see for yourself. There have been innumerable stories of dragons over the centuries, but no real evidence. What an opportunity!

“Show me,” you say. I lead you to my garage. You look inside and see a ladder, empty paint cans, an old tricycle — but no dragon.

“Where’s the dragon?” you ask.
“Oh, she’s right here,” I reply, waving vaguely. “I neglected to mention that she’s an invisible dragon.”

You propose spreading flour on the floor of the garage to capture the dragon’s footprints. “Good idea,” I say, “but this dragon floats in the air.”

Then you’ll use an infrared sensor to detect the invisible fire.

“Good idea, but the invisible fire is also heatless.”

You’ll spray-paint the dragon and make her visible.

“Good idea, but she’s an incorporeal dragon and the paint won’t stick.” And so on. I counter every physical test you propose with a special explanation of why it won’t work.

Now, what’s the difference between an invisible, incorporeal, floating dragon who spits heatless fire and no dragon at all? If there’s no way to disprove my contention, no conceivable experiment that would count against it, what does it mean to say that my dragon exists? Your inability to invalidate my hypothesis is not at all the same thing as proving it true.

Claims that cannot be tested, assertions immune to disproof are veridically worthless, whatever value they may have in inspiring us or in exciting our sense of wonder. What I’m asking you to do comes down to believing, in the absence of evidence, on my say-so. The only thing you’ve really learned from my insistence that there’s a dragon in my garage is that something funny is going on inside my head. You’d wonder, if no physical tests apply, what convinced me.

The possibility that it was a dream or a hallucination would certainly enter your mind. But then, why am I taking it so seriously? Maybe I need help. At the least, maybe I’ve seriously underestimated human fallibility. Imagine that, despite none of the tests being successful, you wish to be scrupulously open-minded. So you don’t outright reject the notion that there’s a fire-breathing dragon in my garage. You merely put it on hold. Present evidence is strongly against it, but if a new body of data emerge you’re prepared to examine it and see if it convinces you. Surely it’s unfair of me to be offended at not being believed; or to criticize you for being stodgy and unimaginative — merely because you rendered the Scottish verdict of “not proved.”

Imagine that things had gone otherwise. The dragon is invisible, all right, but footprints are being made in the flour as you watch. Your infrared detector reads off-scale. The spray paint reveals a jagged crest bobbing in the air before you. No matter how skeptical you might have been about the existence of dragons — to say nothing about invisible ones — you must now acknowledge that there’s something here, and that in a preliminary way it’s consistent with an invisible, fire-breathing dragon.

Now another scenario: Suppose it’s not just me. Suppose that several people of your acquaintance, including people who you’re pretty sure don’t know each other, all tell you that they have dragons in their garages — but in every case the evidence is maddeningly elusive. All of us admit we’re disturbed at being gripped by so odd a conviction so ill-supported by the physical evidence. None of us is a lunatic. We speculate about what it would mean if invisible dragons were really hiding out in garages all over the world, with us humans just catching on. I’d rather it not be true, I tell you. But maybe all those ancient European and Chinese myths about dragons weren’t myths at all.

Gratifyingly, some dragon-size footprints in the flour are now reported. But they’re never made when a skeptic is looking. An alternative explanation presents itself. On close examination it seems clear that the footprints could have been faked. Another dragon enthusiast shows up with a burnt finger and attributes it to a rare physical manifestation of the dragon’s fiery breath. But again, other possibilities exist. We understand that there are other ways to burn fingers besides the breath of invisible dragons. Such “evidence” — no matter how important the dragon advocates consider it — is far from compelling.

Once again, the only sensible approach is tentatively to reject the dragon hypothesis, to be open to future physical data, and to wonder what the cause might be that so many apparently sane and sober people share the same strange delusion.

From the chapter “The Dragon In My Garage” in Sagan's book The Demon-Haunted World