D&D General Would you buy an AI-generated Castle Greyhawk "by" Gary Gygax?" Should you?

[Velderan]

Gygax’s original didn’t have a lot of rhyme or reason to it, though. That’s part of the charm.

If I remember correctly, that was part of Tracy Hickman's issue with how D&D was largely ran at the time. I recall him explaining the inspiration to create Ravenloft came after playing in a game with an unnamed vampire in a random room in some dungeon and he felt the vampire should have a name and a story.

 

[Clint_L]

No. I just kicked a player out of a game for wanting to use AI art - I won't have any association with it.

You kicked a player out of a game for wanting to use AI art? Seriously?

You couldn't have just said, "I prefer you didn't."?

Or maybe, "I have strong reservations about AI art and won't be using it, but you do you."?

I feel like this player is lucky to be out of your game. What else do you try to control? What happens if they show up with a candy bar that you feel was unethically sourced?

 

[Clint_L]

If I remember correctly, that was part of Tracy Hickman's issue with how D&D was largely ran at the time. I recall him explaining the inspiration to create Ravenloft came after playing in a game with an unnamed vampire in a random room in some dungeon and he felt the vampire should have a name and a story.

Yeah, one of the problems with using AI to generate Castle Gygax is that they might try to impose too much narrative logic.

The first dungeon I designed was modelled exactly on Castle Gygax. My only concerns were:

1. How can I make the best use of my limited supply of graph paper?
2. What monsters seem really cool?

 

[mamba]

If I remember correctly, that was part of Tracy Hickman's issue with how D&D was largely ran at the time. I recall him explaining the inspiration to create Ravenloft came after playing in a game with an unnamed vampire in a random room in some dungeon and he felt the vampire should have a name and a story.

yes, and the game became much better for it, as far as I am concerned. Never liked the caves of chaos style

 

[QuentinGeorge]

I'll admit that I find this technology fascinating. For the sake of the exercise, I've been playing around with the first five rooms of Gygax's original Castle Greyhawk (level 1). Using Tsojcanth as a template, and with a bit of massaging, the AI produced the following:

Castle Greyhawk: Level 1

1. The Kobold's Cramped Quarters

You find yourselves at the threshold of a confined chamber, its dimensions some 20 feet by 30 feet. The stench of kobold is overpowering, mingling with the dimness of the scarce light. The walls, crudely etched with primal symbols, and the floors, strewn with bones and the remnants of unknown spoils, tell of the inhabitants' savage nature. You gaze upon a band of kobolds, their beady eyes gleaming with a mix of cunning and malice, as they scurry about their trove.

Within this chamber dwell 1d8+8 Kobolds (AC 7; MV 6"; HD 1/2; hp 4 each; #AT 1; D 1-4; SA ambush tactics). Amidst their disordered hoard lies a prize most unusual for such creatures: a mirror of dusty silver, its craftsmanship speaking of a time long forgotten, valued at 750 gold pieces. These kobolds, seemingly lowly yet fiercely organized, stand ready to defend this treasure with surprising ferocity.

2. Goblin's Filthy Hideout

As you step into the larger cavern, spanning some 25 feet by 40 feet, your senses are besieged by the rank stench of goblin filth. The chaos is palpable – heaps of pilfered goods, remnants of untold feasts, and makeshift tools scattered haphazardly. The discordant sounds of goblin chatter fill the air, as a few of the creatures engage in a crude game of chance with pilfered bones, whilst others squabble over a small trove.

This den is home to 1d6+6 Goblins (AC 6; MV 9"; HD 1-1; hp 5 each; #AT 1; D 1-6; SA ambush in groups). Their raucous bickering is momentarily silenced as they notice your intrusion, their malevolent eyes glinting with both cunning and opportunity. A small leather pouch, containing a mere 10 gold pieces, lies almost forgotten amid their brawling.

3. Giant Rat's Corridor

You venture into this narrow passageway, scarce more than 15 feet in length, teeming with the incessant skittering and squeaking of giant rats. The walls and floor bear the marks of gnawing and clawing, revealing the vermin's dominion. The air is heavy with a musty, earthy scent, mixed with the subtle hint of peril. Amidst the debris, a glint of glass catches your eye, half-hidden under a refuse pile.

This corridor is a haven for 3d4 Giant Rats (AC 7; MV 12"; HD 1/4; hp 2 each; #AT 1; D 1-3; SA disease chance). Their beady, watchful eyes betray a readiness to defend their realm. Hidden amongst the detritus, a potion of strength lies waiting, as if discarded by a prior, hapless soul.

4. Bandit's Strategic Stronghold

This is a chamber of strategic import, measuring some 30 feet by 50 feet, adorned with the tools of skullduggery: maps, weapons, and armor. A coterie of bandits, garbed in the wear of the rogue, engage in heated discourse around a large, roughly hewn table. Their leader, a figure marred by scars of battle, commands the room with a thunderous voice and an iron fist.

Residing within are 1d8+8 Bandits (AC 6; MV 9"; HD 1; hp 6 each; #AT 1; D 1-8; SA coordinated attacks) and a Bandit Leader of formidable presence (AC 5; MV 9"; HD 3; hp 18; #AT 1; D 1-8; SA command bandits). Their cache of ill-gotten gains includes a +1 shield, a potion of undetected control, and a chest brimming with 1000 gold pieces. The bandits, alerted to your presence, arm themselves swiftly, ready to defend their stronghold with cunning and brute force.

5. The Centipede's Damp Lair

You enter a chamber of damp and earthen scent, its diameter stretching 20 feet. The constant drip of moisture from the stone ceiling creates a slick sheen on the floor, where Giant Centipedes writhe and coil in a mesmerizing dance. The rustling sound of their many-legged movement reverberates off the chamber walls, creating an unsettling symphony. In certain nooks, the centipedes gather in such numbers that the floor itself seems to move.

Inhabiting this lair are 1d4+4 Giant Centipedes (AC 9; MV 12"; HD 1/2; hp 3 each; #AT 1; D 1-3; SA poison bite). These creatures, of hues ranging from dark brown to sickly yellow, glide with an eerie grace. No visible treasure lies here, but the latent danger of their venomous bite is a clear and present threat.

I don't know if Gary was as fond of the "noun adjective noun" naming scheme as the AI likes to presume here.

And the Gary of Tscojanth/Isle of the Ape is a lot different from the Castle Greyhawk Gary. Check out the infodump in the beginning of Isle of the Ape and think if that reads as "sparse" to you.

 

[Jfdlsjfd]

I'll admit that I find this technology fascinating. For the sake of the exercise, I've been playing around with the first five rooms of Gygax's original Castle Greyhawk (level 1). Using Tsojcanth as a template, and with a bit of massaging, the AI produced the following:

Maybe we should actually try to design a one-shot using only chatgpt and editorial choices voted on this forum. I might start a thread regarding this. Maybe people who wouldn't buy an ai-assisted module would play in one ?

Edit: did it.

 

[Li Shenron]

I think that it would be scary-interesting to know, how many of those who say 'no' would actually buy it if they didn't know it was AI generated. After all, billions of people buy food they don't really know how it's made.

 

[J.Quondam]

I think that it would be scary-interesting to know, how many of those who say 'no' would actually buy it if they didn't know it was AI generated. After all, billions of people buy food they don't really know how it's made.

Yeah, I suspect AI will become one of those things like GMOs, eating meat, "made in USA," and so forth that a lot of people have an opinion about but might not be able to perfectly adhere to, if only due to how society and economy is structured. And for some, opinion could change as the tech progresses, eg, when public domain-trained AIs are readily available to resolve some ethical issues but not others.

Each draws their own lines in the sand. Some will stick to their guns, others won't be so diligent, and most everyone else will carry on obliviously.

 

[ilgatto]

To get back to @Whizbang Dustyboots original question, we actually have the map and key to level 1 of Castle Greyhawk (see below, sourced from Delta's D&D hotspot).

So, I fed the key into ChatGPT 4 and asked it to write it up, Gygax style, using this prompt:

the table above is a dungeon key for a Dungeon called Castle Greyhawk Level 1. I want you to pretend to be Gary Gygax, and you are turning this dungeon key into a full adventure. Please write out rooms 1 to 5 fully in the voice and style of Gary Gygax. Each room should have a number, a name, some read-aloud text, and then a description of the room and contents, including monsters (use the average), what they are doing, treasure and value, and other objects. bold the monster name.

Below are the rooms that ChatGPT created using Gygax's key. I think the prompt could be tuned far better, but the output seems ok to me. I've seen worse by humans! It is a bit bare-bones. It would be useful to feed the tool a model example of how Gary wrote a room.



Room 1: The Scowling Den

Your torchlight flickers upon the uneven walls of this dank chamber, revealing scurrying shapes that chitter and jeer in the gloom. They brandish spears no taller than a child, but with a menace that belies their stature.

Within this lair dwell Kobolds, a pack of 12 by average count, each as craven as they are cruel. These diminutive dragonkin are currently honing their weapons and setting snares for the unwary. Their eyes gleam with greed and malice, for they guard a relic of old: a dust-colored silver mirror, set in strange metal and etched with forgotten runes. This mirror, if hauled back to the realms of sunlight, could fetch a sum of 750 gold pieces.

Room 2: The Goblin Warren

The stench of refuse and the sounds of bickering greet you as you enter. In the flickering shadow, green-skinned figures squabble over a pile of pilfered loot.

This chamber is infested with Goblins, nine in number, their skin the color of moldy leaves. They are engaged in the division of spoils from their latest raid, oblivious to the world beyond their squabbles. Among their trove is a sum of 10 gold pieces — not a princely sum, but a start. And goblins, though easily scattered, can be vicious when cornered.

Room 3: Lair of the Giant Vermin

The crunch of bone underfoot betrays the chamber ahead. Shadows skitter across the floor, and the air is filled with the musk of feral hunger.

This place is claimed by Giant Rats, seven in all, their fur matted and eyes alight with hunger. They feast upon the remnants of less fortunate adventurers and guard a treasured potion of strength with the ferocity of beasts twice their size. This potion, lying amidst the rubble, could prove invaluable and is valued at 50 gold pieces.

Room 4: The Brigand's Holdfast

The clink of coin and the rustle of maps can be heard as you peer into a room that bears the mark of organized crime. A band of armed men and women look up from their plotting, hands inching towards weapons.

The room is the domain of the Bandits and their warrior leader, a formidable group of 13. These rogues are in the midst of dividing their ill-gotten gains and planning their next foray. Among their cache is a shield of fine make, a potion of undetected control, and a sum of 1,000 gold pieces. The bandits are cunning and will fight with strategy and guile.

Room 5: The Centipede's Nest

The sound of your steps is drowned out by the chittering and clattering of countless legs on stone. The room before you writhes with long, segmented bodies coiling in and out of the rock.

Occupying this room are Giant Centipedes, six in their number, a writhing mass of venom and hunger. They are currently feeding on a patch of fungus growing in the damp corner of their lair. There is no treasure to be found here, save for the venom that coats their mandibles — a dangerous prize for those who know its worth.
(...)

I'll admit that I find this technology fascinating. For the sake of the exercise, I've been playing around with the first five rooms of Gygax's original Castle Greyhawk (level 1). Using Tsojcanth as a template, and with a bit of massaging, the AI produced the following:

Castle Greyhawk: Level 1

1. The Kobold's Cramped Quarters

You find yourselves at the threshold of a confined chamber, its dimensions some 20 feet by 30 feet. The stench of kobold is overpowering, mingling with the dimness of the scarce light. The walls, crudely etched with primal symbols, and the floors, strewn with bones and the remnants of unknown spoils, tell of the inhabitants' savage nature. You gaze upon a band of kobolds, their beady eyes gleaming with a mix of cunning and malice, as they scurry about their trove.

Within this chamber dwell 1d8+8 Kobolds (AC 7; MV 6"; HD 1/2; hp 4 each; #AT 1; D 1-4; SA ambush tactics). Amidst their disordered hoard lies a prize most unusual for such creatures: a mirror of dusty silver, its craftsmanship speaking of a time long forgotten, valued at 750 gold pieces. These kobolds, seemingly lowly yet fiercely organized, stand ready to defend this treasure with surprising ferocity.

2. Goblin's Filthy Hideout

As you step into the larger cavern, spanning some 25 feet by 40 feet, your senses are besieged by the rank stench of goblin filth. The chaos is palpable – heaps of pilfered goods, remnants of untold feasts, and makeshift tools scattered haphazardly. The discordant sounds of goblin chatter fill the air, as a few of the creatures engage in a crude game of chance with pilfered bones, whilst others squabble over a small trove.

This den is home to 1d6+6 Goblins (AC 6; MV 9"; HD 1-1; hp 5 each; #AT 1; D 1-6; SA ambush in groups). Their raucous bickering is momentarily silenced as they notice your intrusion, their malevolent eyes glinting with both cunning and opportunity. A small leather pouch, containing a mere 10 gold pieces, lies almost forgotten amid their brawling.

3. Giant Rat's Corridor

You venture into this narrow passageway, scarce more than 15 feet in length, teeming with the incessant skittering and squeaking of giant rats. The walls and floor bear the marks of gnawing and clawing, revealing the vermin's dominion. The air is heavy with a musty, earthy scent, mixed with the subtle hint of peril. Amidst the debris, a glint of glass catches your eye, half-hidden under a refuse pile.

This corridor is a haven for 3d4 Giant Rats (AC 7; MV 12"; HD 1/4; hp 2 each; #AT 1; D 1-3; SA disease chance). Their beady, watchful eyes betray a readiness to defend their realm. Hidden amongst the detritus, a potion of strength lies waiting, as if discarded by a prior, hapless soul.

4. Bandit's Strategic Stronghold

This is a chamber of strategic import, measuring some 30 feet by 50 feet, adorned with the tools of skullduggery: maps, weapons, and armor. A coterie of bandits, garbed in the wear of the rogue, engage in heated discourse around a large, roughly hewn table. Their leader, a figure marred by scars of battle, commands the room with a thunderous voice and an iron fist.

Residing within are 1d8+8 Bandits (AC 6; MV 9"; HD 1; hp 6 each; #AT 1; D 1-8; SA coordinated attacks) and a Bandit Leader of formidable presence (AC 5; MV 9"; HD 3; hp 18; #AT 1; D 1-8; SA command bandits). Their cache of ill-gotten gains includes a +1 shield, a potion of undetected control, and a chest brimming with 1000 gold pieces. The bandits, alerted to your presence, arm themselves swiftly, ready to defend their stronghold with cunning and brute force.

5. The Centipede's Damp Lair

You enter a chamber of damp and earthen scent, its diameter stretching 20 feet. The constant drip of moisture from the stone ceiling creates a slick sheen on the floor, where Giant Centipedes writhe and coil in a mesmerizing dance. The rustling sound of their many-legged movement reverberates off the chamber walls, creating an unsettling symphony. In certain nooks, the centipedes gather in such numbers that the floor itself seems to move.

Inhabiting this lair are 1d4+4 Giant Centipedes (AC 9; MV 12"; HD 1/2; hp 3 each; #AT 1; D 1-3; SA poison bite). These creatures, of hues ranging from dark brown to sickly yellow, glide with an eerie grace. No visible treasure lies here, but the latent danger of their venomous bite is a clear and present threat.

Bit late to the party, but I'm curious.

Does anyone think these texts sound like High-Gygaxian? Or resemble entries in any of the adventure modules he published?

 

[theCourier]

Something I hardly see mentioned in these kinds of discussions is: why the heck would I buy someone's AI slop when I can just generate my own AI slop (not that I'd personally want to)? Because they go over and edit it? How do I even know if they actually did that? Why even bother with the middleman?