Hey Stat Rollers! Today, we’re diving into my very favorite module from the TSR B Series of modules, one of the best modules from early D&D history—Dungeon Module B4: The Lost City. I love this module!

Dungeon Module B4: The Lost City, written by Tom Moldvay and originally published by TSR in 1982, is one of those classic gems that definitely stands the test of time.

B4: The Lost City has seen several reprints and adaptations since its original release in 1982. In 1987, portions of the module were included in the compilation B1–9 In Search of Adventure, which abridged content from the first nine B-series modules, and more recently, Goodman Games released The Lost City for 5th Edition Dungeons & Dragons as part of their Original Adventures Reincarnated series. These reprints and adaptations have introduced The Lost City to new generations of players, ensuring its continued relevance in the D&D community.

For anyone unfamiliar, B4: The Lost City is a module designed for characters between levels 1-3, originally intended for use with the Dungeons & Dragons Basic Set. Unlike many of its contemporaries, it introduces a fascinating, ruined civilization buried beneath the sands, providing a deeply atmospheric setting that goes far beyond just hacking goblins to pieces in a dungeon corridor.

I’ve run The Lost City multiple times, each campaign taking on a life of its own. It’s a module that rewards creativity and long-term play, offering opportunities for faction intrigue, survival-based challenges, and world-building on a grander scale.

In this retrospective and review, I’ll go deep into the history, legacy, and story of the module, offer my tips for running it, and discuss whether it still holds up today.

So buckle up, because we’re about to take a dive into the sands of Cynidicea.

But first, this is your obligatory spoiler warning. Please be aware that this post contains spoilers for Dungeon Module B4: The Lost City. If you want to experience the twists, surprises, and dark secrets of this module firsthand, stop reading now and consider sending your DM this way. You’ve been warned—venture ahead at your own risk!

The History and Legacy of B4: The Lost City

When B4: The Lost City hit the shelves in 1982, it was part of a wave of early TSR modules aimed at giving players something beyond the usual dungeon delves. Written by the brilliant Tom Moldvay, the module gave DMs an unfinished sandbox to expand upon.

The Lost City dropped players into an isolated, desperate survival scenario. It wasn’t just about gold and XP—it was about finding food, water, and allies in a forgotten ruin swallowed by the desert.

But what really set The Lost City apart was its lore. Moldvay built a crumbling civilization with echoes of Lovecraftian horror, creating the monstrous Zargon and the three competing factions—the Brotherhood of Gorm, the Magi of Usamigaras, and the Warrior Maidens of Madarua. The players could become embroiled in their struggles or forge their own path entirely.

Even more interestingly, the module wasn’t fully fleshed out. Moldvay included notes on how to expand the adventure into an underground city beneath the pyramid, but left the details to the DM’s imagination. This made The Lost City feel like a proto-mega-dungeon—a setting that could evolve into a full-fledged campaign.

Today, B4: The Lost City remains a beloved module in old school circles. It inspired later works like Dark Sun and The Isle of Dread with its themes of survival and lost civilizations. It’s also notable for influencing games like Forbidden Lands, where exploration and faction-based intrigue take center stage.

The Story behind B4: The Lost City – A Lost Civilization in Decline

Every great civilization has its moment of collapse, its turning point when everything that once stood strong begins to crumble. The fall of Cynidicea is one of those stories—a mix of hubris, horror, and slow, creeping corruption that makes The Lost City such a compelling and unique module.

The backstory of Cynidicea sets the stage for a city that is far more than just another dungeon to loot. It’s a once-great kingdom that fell into madness, a society that turned its back on reason and embraced something far darker.

As a DM, this background isn’t just flavor—it’s the fuel that powers the entire adventure. Players are stepping into the ruins of a culture that has been warped beyond recognition, and whether they realize it or not, they’re about to become part of that story.

The Rise of Cynidicea and the Pyramid of King Alexander

Once upon a time, Cynidicea was a kingdom of wealth and power. Unlike most ancient ruins in fantasy settings, which are typically nothing more than dead cities with forgotten names, Cynidicea was a thriving civilization that fought back against the encroaching desert. Through irrigation, they reclaimed land, built strongholds, and cultivated an oasis in the sands.

At the height of its power, King Alexander ruled the land. He was the last of the great Cynidicean kings, and when he died, his people did what many great civilizations have done before—they built him a monument. The step-pyramid that now towers over the ruins was his final resting place, a grand tomb to ensure his legacy lived on.

At this point in the story, Cynidicea was still a strong and ordered society. But as history has shown time and time again, greatness never lasts forever.

The Discovery of Zargon in B4: The Lost City

In a perfect world, the pyramid would have remained a testament to Cynidicea’s golden age. But the architects and laborers dug too deep, and in doing so, they unearthed something far older and far worse than they could have ever imagined.

Beneath the foundations of the pyramid, they uncovered the lair of Zargon—a nightmarish abomination, neither fully god nor beast.

Descriptions of Zargon paint him as a roughly humanoid figure with twelve writhing tentacles instead of limbs, the head of a giant lizard, and a massive black horn protruding from his forehead.

He wasn’t just a monster.

He was something alien, something unknowable, something completely outside the natural order.

When Zargon emerged from the depths, he slaughtered the workers. The city’s rulers sent their best soldiers after him, but nothing worked. Arrows, spears, and blades all failed. Zargon could not be killed, or at least, not in any way the Cynidiceans understood.

Eventually, the rulers of Cynidicea made a desperate decision: they would feed Zargon rather than fight him. Instead of sentencing criminals to death, they began throwing them into the depths beneath the pyramid, offering them as living sacrifices to the beast.

What started as a temporary solution soon became a horrifying ritual, a practice that embedded itself into Cynidicean society.

And that was the beginning of the end.

The Cult of Zargon and the Collapse of Cynidicea

At some point, something shifted. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was something far more insidious. But over time, the people of Cynidicea stopped viewing Zargon as a threat. They began to worship him.

It started as a fringe belief, but as more and more people bought into the idea of Zargon as a god, the old faiths of the kingdom withered. The temples of Gorm, Usamigaras, and Madarua were abandoned. The city’s traditions eroded. The laws became more brutal.

And then the city fell into full-blown decadence.

With Zargon’s hunger at the center of their society, the Cynidiceans lost all sense of responsibility. The army dissolved. The once-great irrigation systems collapsed. Farmers abandoned their fields. The people turned to strange, hallucinogenic drugs and mindless revelry, retreating from reality into a dreamlike existence.

Meanwhile, the desert reclaimed the land. Without irrigation, Cynidicea’s fertile fields dried up, and what had once been an oasis became nothing more than another stretch of endless sand. The outside world, watching the kingdom rot from within, abandoned it.

Then came the final blow. The walls of Cynidicea were still standing, but the people inside were too far gone to defend themselves. When barbarian warbands descended upon the city, there was no resistance.

The kingdom collapsed overnight.

Only those who fled underground survived.

The Cynidiceans: A Society of Masked Survivors

The survivors of Cynidicea were not warriors or rulers. They were dreamers and cultists, people who had long since abandoned the rational world. They gathered in the catacombs beneath the pyramid, rebuilding a strange version of their fallen city under the earth.

At first, they might seem like a standard group of subterranean dwellers—pale-skinned, white-haired, adapted to the darkness. But what sets the Cynidiceans apart is their masks. Every Cynidicean wears an ornate mask, shaped like an animal or human face, decorated with beads, bones, and jewels. Some paint their bodies in wild colors. Others wander the tunnels, lost in drug-induced dreams.

They are a people living in a permanent fantasy, slowly wasting away with each generation. They no longer remember the outside world. To them, the pyramid, the catacombs, and the hidden lake beneath the city are all that exists.

And yet, some still remember what once was.

The Three Factions in B4: The Lost City

Not all Cynidiceans have surrendered to madness. A handful have held on to the old ways, forming three distinct factions, each trying in their own way to restore the lost greatness of their people.

The Brotherhood of Gorm

Followers of Gorm, the god of war, storms, and justice, the Brotherhood is made up of male fighters of lawful alignment. They wear golden masks of Gorm, depicting a long-haired, bearded man with a stern gaze, and dress in blue tunics and chainmail.

The Brotherhood is the most rigid and militaristic of the factions. They value order, discipline, and law, but they have a problem: they are few in number and have little influence left in Cynidicean society.

The Magi of Usamigaras

Worshippers of Usamigaras, the god of healing, messengers, and thieves, the Magi are a neutral-aligned faction of magic-users. They wear silver masks shaped like the face of a smiling child and dress in rainbow-colored robes.

Unlike the Brotherhood, the Magi believe in subtlety over brute force. They see knowledge, magic, and careful manipulation as the key to saving Cynidicea.

The Warrior Maidens of Madarua

The last faction is the Warrior Maidens of Madarua, worshippers of Madarua, the goddess of birth, death, and the changing seasons. They are female fighters of neutral alignment, dressed in bronze chainmail over green tunics and wearing bronze masks of Madarua.

Unlike the Brotherhood and the Magi, the Warrior Maidens are both spiritual and martial, blending aspects of the other two factions. They focus on practical survival and tradition, making them a powerful but often isolated group.

The Priests of Zargon: The True Enemy

Above and beyond the factions, one group remains in power—the Priests of Zargon.

They rule the underground city, keeping the people in a haze of drugs and fear while continuing the worship of the monstrous god beneath the pyramid. They are the true enemy, the last link between Cynidicea and the horror that destroyed it.

The real question is, what will the players do?

Will they side with a faction? Will they try to rebuild Cynidicea? Or will they simply loot the ruins and leave before Zargon wakes once more?

A Harrowing Journey into the Unknown: The Players’ Background in B4: The Lost City

Every great adventure starts with desperation, danger, and discovery. In Dungeon Module B4: The Lost City, your party isn’t marching into some preordained quest handed down by a noble or a king. You aren’t looking for lost treasure because of rumors in a tavern. No, this adventure begins with sheer survival—a struggle against the harsh, uncaring forces of nature that have left you stranded in the endless sea of sand.

There’s a reason why this introduction stands out among early TSR modules. Instead of a defined mission, your party is forced into a situation with no clear goal—no friendly town to return to, no quest-giver, no map.

This isn’t a standard dungeon crawl where you clear rooms and gather loot. You’ve been thrown into the deep end, lost in a wasteland that does not care whether you live or die.

A Caravan Lost to the Sands

Your players adventure starts normally enough. Maybe they signed on as mercenaries, protecting a trade caravan making its way across the vast, sun-scorched expanse of the desert. Or maybe they were simple travelers, heading eastward for reasons of their own.

Then the storm comes.

Not just any storm, but a howling, all-consuming sandstorm, a wrathful force of nature that erased the world around them in a single breath.

When the winds screamed through the caravan, the sky vanished, and the world turned into a blinding, suffocating haze of grit and wind. They could barely see their own hand in front of their face, let alone the others in their party.

When the storm finally subsides, they are alone.

There is no sign of the caravan, no trail to follow, no familiar landmarks.

The endless dunes have been reshaped into unfamiliar forms, shifting like the waves of a vast ocean. The only certainty is that the caravan was gone, swallowed by the desert.

And then the real nightmare begins.

A March Through the Wastes

They decided to head east, the same direction the caravan had been traveling before the storm struck. It’s the only choice they have.

At first, they hope to stumble across tracks, an oasis, or another traveler. But as the hours stretch into days, that hope withers under the merciless sun.

Their mounts collapsed first, their tongues swollen, their bodies wasted from thirst. Soon after, your the party drinks their last drops water.

By the second day without water, every breath burns in their chest. Their skin cracks, and their lips split. Each step forward is an act of willpower, their bodies weakened to the point where they can barely move faster than a crawl.

The desert is winning.

And then, at the edge of their vision, they see a stone.

The Lost City Emerges from the Sands

At first, it seems like a mirage. But as the adventurers draw closer, they realize the desert has yielded a secret long buried beneath its golden waves.

Stone blocks jutted from the sand, remnants of a lost civilization. When they investigate further, they find the remains of a massive wall, half-buried, its ancient stones worn smooth by centuries of wind and grit.

Beyond the ruined wall stretches a city swallowed by time. Buildings lay toppled and shattered, their foundations barely visible beneath the dunes. Some stones peek through the sand, their once-grand facades now little more than weathered ghosts of a forgotten empire.

And at the city’s heart stands the great pyramid.

The Pyramid of the Gods

Even in ruin, it is a marvel—a colossal step-pyramid rising five tiers into the sky, its lowest levels almost completely buried. Atop the highest tier stand three towering statues, each 30 feet tall, their features still defiant against the ravages of time.

• To the left, a bearded warrior holding a balance in one hand and a lightning bolt in the other. His stern gaze seems to judge all who approached.

• At the center, a winged child wrapped in twin serpents carrying a wand in one hand and a handful of coins in the other, a figure of mystery and duality.

• To the right, a beautiful woman stands with a sheaf of wheat in one hand and a sword in the other, the embodiment of both life and death.

Even without knowing their names, the party can feel the weight of their significance. These were no mere statues—they were gods, or the remnants of gods once revered by a civilization now long vanished.

A staircase-ramp leads from the desert floor to the pyramid’s highest tier, beckoning the party forward.

The Harsh Truth: No Food, No Water, No Escape

The city offered no relief for the party.

• No sign of life—not even the smallest desert creature scurried through the ruins.

• No wells, no fountains, no pools of water—just sand and silence.

• No supplies to salvage—the bones of this city were dry and long picked clean.

They have only one option. The pyramid.

They climb the stairs, drawn toward the ancient structure—not out of greed or curiosity, but out of necessity. If there is any hope of survival, it lies within.

And that’s when they find the door.

A Fateful Discovery: The Hidden Entrance

Halfway up the pyramid’s southern-facing ramp, where it connects to the top tier, their eyes catch something—a break in the otherwise seamless stone. A hidden doorway, level with the top tier’s floor, perfectly blended into the masonry.

It’s a chance.

Maybe inside the pyramid they’ll find water, a safe place to rest, something—anything—that will keep them alive.

Or maybe they’ll find something worse. But it doesn’t matter. They are out of options. With parched throats and exhausted bodies, the party steps forward.

And with a whisper of shifting stone, the door slides open…

Why The Introduction in B4: The Lost City is So Effective

The setup for The Lost City is one of the best adventure openings in classic D&D. It does three crucial things:

• It throws the players into an immediate survival scenario. There’s no turning back. No supplies. No town to retreat to. They have to go forward or die.

• It builds tension and mystery before the first encounter. The city isn’t just another dungeon—it’s a lost civilization buried in sand, with forgotten gods and ancient horrors lurking within.

• It puts players in an exploratory mindset. Since there’s no quest giver, they have to decide what to do next. Do they investigate cautiously? Do they rush inside? Do they try to learn about the statues?

This opening places the players at a crossroads of fate—one where every choice they make from here on out will shape the rest of the adventure.

They didn’t come here seeking treasure.

They came here to survive.

And The Lost City is about to test whether they can.

Running B4: The Lost City – A Dungeon Master’s Guide to Survival, Mystery, and Faction Intrigue

Unlike more linear modules, The Lost City is a sandbox with structure. The step-pyramid at the heart of the adventure is an introduction to the larger mysteries of the Cynidicean civilization, but it’s only the first piece of a much greater puzzle.

Once the party gets involved with the underground factions, the story can expand into something much bigger—potentially evolving into an entire campaign about restoring a lost kingdom, toppling a monstrous cult, or surviving in a ruined civilization.

Because of this, the best advice I can give before you run this module is: read through everything, take notes, and decide how much of the adventure you want to use. Do you want to stick with a classic dungeon crawl? Or do you want to develop the underground city into a fully realized setting?

How to Use the DM’s Background and Player’s Background in B4: The Lost City

One of the most interesting parts of The Lost City is its deep lore, and the module gives you two key tools to introduce it:

• The DM’s Background explains the fall of Cynidicea, the monstrous being known as Zargon, and the rise of the city’s strange masked inhabitants.

• The Player’s Background is the setup for the adventure, which the DM is encouraged to read aloud before the game begins.

This dual approach works because it allows players to uncover the world piece by piece rather than being spoon-fed information. They start knowing only that they’re lost in the desert and stumble upon a ruined city, but as they delve deeper into the pyramid and interact with its factions, they begin to piece together what happened to Cynidicea.

The big takeaway here is don’t overwhelm your players with lore at the start.

This is a module about exploration and discovery, so let them learn about Cynidicea naturally through their interactions with its crumbling remains and its bizarre, masked survivors.

The Scope of B4: The Lost City – What You’re Actually Running

At its core, The Lost City is a tiered dungeon crawl with layers of intrigue and survival elements. But unlike most classic dungeons, this adventure doesn’t have an obvious end point.

Here’s what’s provided in the module:

• Tiers 1 & 2 (Dungeon Level 1): The uppermost layers of the pyramid, introducing the players to the basic dangers of the ruins and their first encounters with the Cynidiceans.

• Tiers 3 & 4 (Dungeon Level 2): Deeper layers of the pyramid where the three factions of Cynidicea hold their strongholds. This is where the adventure begins to shift from “explore and survive” to political intrigue.

• Tier 5 (Dungeon Level 3): The deepest part of the pyramid, featuring more complex encounters, undead threats, and the first hints of Zargon’s influence.

• Lower Levels & the Underground City (Part 5): This is where the adventure breaks open into a full campaign. The DM is encouraged to expand on the hidden underground city beneath the pyramid, detailing a world of strange, drug-addled inhabitants, forgotten secrets, and the monstrous cult of Zargon.

This structure means the module can function in multiple ways depending on the DM’s preference:

• A Single-Session Dungeon Crawl – If you just want a one-shot or a short dungeon adventure, you can run the upper levels of the pyramid and call it a day. The party either dies of thirst in the ruins or finds a way to escape.

• A Mini-Campaign – If you want something more expansive, you can introduce the three factions, the hidden city, and the greater conflict with Zargon. This can easily turn into a sandbox where the players choose their path—maybe they side with one of the factions, maybe they try to rebuild the city, or maybe they just loot what they can and escape.

• A Full Campaign – If you really want to go all-in, The Lost City provides everything you need for a long-running game set in a ruined civilization. The underground city can be developed into a fully realized setting, and the conflict between Zargon and the factions can become an epic, player-driven narrative.

As a DM, you decide how far to take it. The Lost City is not a “plug-and-play” linear dungeon—it’s a foundation for a unique adventure that will unfold based on player decisions.

Adjusting B4: The Lost City for Your Players

One of the best things about The Lost City is that it’s designed to be flexible. The module itself encourages the DM to adjust encounters, change enemy strength, and introduce NPC retainers if needed.

Party Size and Balance in B4: The Lost City

The module is designed for 6 to 10 players at levels 1-3, but we all know that most modern groups tend to be smaller than that. If you’re running it for 3 to 5 players, you might need to make some tweaks:

• Introduce NPC retainers – The lost desert caravan makes for a perfect excuse to have NPCs tag along. You can give the players a guide, a mercenary, or a Cynidicean ally to help balance the odds.

• Reduce the number of enemies – Instead of a room full of 8 goblins, cut it down to 4. This keeps fights manageable without making them trivial.

• Make resting and resupply a challenge, but not impossible – The biggest threat in The Lost City isn’t the monsters—it’s starvation and dehydration. If you’re running a smaller party, consider placing some extra food and water caches throughout the dungeon.

Giving the Players Time to Breathe

One of the best pieces of advice in the introduction is “Do not move the action too quickly”. The Lost City isn’t meant to be rushed. If you’re playing it as a campaign, let the players rest, regroup, and explore at their own pace.

A key part of old-school play is emergent storytelling—where the world reacts to the players rather than following a strict script. If your players spend a few sessions negotiating with the factions rather than fighting, that’s a great thing. Let them dig into the lore, get involved in faction politics, and shape the world around them.

Exploring the Upper Tiers of B4: The Lost City – A Dungeon Master’s Guide to Tiers 1 and 2

The first dungeon level of The Lost City plunges the players into immediate survival mode, stripping them of the comforts typically afforded in early adventure modules. There’s no friendly inn, no supply depot, and certainly no town to retreat to. Instead, they are starving, dehydrated, and exhausted, forced to scavenge for whatever meager resources they can find within the step-pyramid.

This is what makes The Lost City unique compared to other early TSR adventures. It isn’t just about hacking and slashing through monsters for gold—the pyramid itself is a challenge to overcome. Players aren’t just fighting creatures; they’re fighting their own diminishing stamina, their increasing thirst, and their creeping desperation.

As a Dungeon Master, it’s crucial to keep this tension alive. Constantly remind players of their exhaustion, their parched throats, and the gnawing hunger in their bellies. This module works best when the dungeon itself feels like an enemy.

The Pyramid: The First Steps into a Forgotten World

Before breaking down the encounters in Tiers 1 and 2, it’s important to get a sense of the pyramid’s atmosphere.

This is no ordinary dungeon. There are no torches lining the walls, no frescoes telling a grand story, no signs of the usual traps set by intelligent guardians. Instead, everything is bare stone—smooth and ancient, untouched by time except where nature and monsters have taken their toll.

The pyramid is dark, silent, and ominous.

• Doors are massive stone slabs that must be pushed inward to open, often sealing shut behind the players unless spiked or jammed.

• Ceilings are ten feet high in corridors, fifteen feet in rooms, making the place feel vast but also claustrophobic in the dim light.

• Most rooms are bare, save for the occasional statue, carving, or sign of past use.

The pyramid is as much a tomb as it is a fortress, and that weight should settle over the players from the moment they step inside.

Tier 1: The First Room (Room 1)

The entrance to the pyramid—Room 1—is the first step into a lost civilization’s last remnant. By the time the players reach this point, they’re likely exhausted and desperate for any sign of food, water, or safety. But the pyramid offers none of that—not yet.

This is a moment for atmospheric tension.

Describe the stale, unmoving air inside the chamber. The way their footsteps echo farther than they should. The sensation of stepping into a place where nothing has lived for centuries.

This room is more than just an entrance—it’s a threshold between the world of the living and the world of Cynidicea’s decay. The players may not realize it yet, but by entering, they have crossed into something far greater than a mere dungeon.

Tier 2: Rooms 2-12 – The First Real Test

The second tier of the pyramid is where the adventure truly begins. The moment players start moving through these chambers, they’ll encounter their first real threats—both from monsters and from the environment itself.

Key Survival Mechanics: The Desperation Factor

• No Food, No Water – Players must scavenge whatever they can find. If they don’t locate water soon, they will die.

• Doors that Close Automatically – This detail makes navigation tense. Players should feel like they are being sealed inside with every step.

• Total Darkness – Unless they brought their own torches or magical light, they are blind. Remember, The Lost City predates Darkvision as we know it—players must account for light sources at all times.

• A Growing Sense of Dread – The deeper they go, the clearer it becomes that this place is not abandoned.

As the players push further inside, they’ll encounter the first Cynidiceans, some of whom act out strange dreams—a cryptic and eerie moment that reinforces the weird, surreal nature of this adventure.

The Real Horror of the Upper Tiers: Isolation and Insanity

Tiers 1 and 2 aren’t the hardest part of the pyramid. But they are the most psychologically taxing. The deeper players go, the less familiar the world becomes.

• They’ll encounter Cynidiceans lost in delusions, speaking of a city that no longer exists, talking to people who aren’t there.

• They’ll realize the pyramid isn’t empty—it’s filled with things that have adapted to the darkness, waiting for prey to stumble inside.

• They’ll start to feel the claustrophobia of the pyramid’s shifting doors, the unshakable paranoia that they are being watched.

More than anything, this part of the module is about survival. Not just against monsters, but against the very nature of Cynidicea itself—a civilization that refused to die, and now exists in a dream-state, caught between the past and a nightmare of its own making.

For the players, this is only the beginning.

The real horror lurks below.

Tiers 3 and 4: The Heart of the Pyramid

If the first two tiers of The Lost City introduce players to the desolation and desperation of their situation, then Tiers 3 and 4 are where the adventure truly starts to unfold.

This level of the pyramid is a turning point in the module—it’s where the players move from pure survival mode into the political and supernatural conflicts that define the adventure.

This is also where the pyramid stops being just a dungeon and becomes something far richer. Tiers 3 and 4 hold the last remnants of Cynidicean civilization, the factions vying for control of the Lost City, and the buried legacy of its once-great rulers.

If you want your players to feel like they’re stepping into something bigger than just a tomb, this is the level where that feeling should hit hardest.

Tier 3: The Living Factions of Cynidicea

Unlike the upper tiers, Tier 3 isn’t just filled with wandering creatures and ancient ruins—this level is inhabited.

Here, the players will find the headquarters of the three factions of Cynidicea:

• The Brotherhood of Gorm – Warriors of law and order, rigid in their beliefs.

• The Magi of Usamigaras – Scholars and spellcasters devoted to magic and trickery.

• The Warrior Maidens of Madarua – Fierce fighters seeking to restore balance.

This is the players’ best chance to find allies—or make powerful enemies. These factions do not get along, and their feuds run deep. The moment the players make contact with one group, they will be scrutinized and judged. Their interactions here will determine whether they are seen as potential recruits, unwelcome outsiders, or spies for a rival faction.

For DMs, this is the perfect place to build tension and intrigue. The factions can be played as simple NPC quest-givers, but they shine brightest when they are treated as competing ideologies with their own goals, histories, and grudges.

The Magi of Usamigaras (Room 14-16)

The Magi’s domain is one of the most thematically rich parts of the pyramid. Their corridors are painted black with tiny white stars, evoking a night sky. Their shrine to Usamigaras is lit with strange blue flames. Every detail of their headquarters makes them feel mysterious and otherworldly.

The players will likely meet Auriga Sirkinos, the Chief Mage—a charismatic, outwardly friendly man who hides a ruthless streak beneath his jovial demeanor. Unlike the Brotherhood or the Warrior Maidens, the Magi thrive on deception and manipulation. If the players don’t immediately align with them, Auriga will likely try to manipulate them into doing his bidding.

This is an excellent opportunity for roleplaying—do the players trust the Magi, or do they see through their polished exterior? If they join, they will be initiated with a burned-in star mark on their palm. If they refuse, they might find themselves targets of the Magi’s scheming.

The Warrior Maidens of Madarua (Room 21-23)

The Warrior Maidens’ shrine is a stark contrast to the Magi. Their quarters are austere, clean, and militant. The shrine to Madarua burns constant candles and incense, reinforcing the devotion and discipline of this faction.

Players will meet Pandora, the leader of the Maidens, who is both a warrior and a strategist. She outwardly believes in solving problems with swift action, but in truth, she carefully assesses every situation before committing her forces.

Where the Magi may try to manipulate the players, the Warrior Maidens will test them. Their initiation involves bloodletting and an oath, and only women can become full members—a restriction that might create tension depending on the party’s composition.

If the players align with the Maidens, they gain fierce allies who will fight alongside them against the forces of Zargon. But if they side with a rival faction, they may find themselves facing Pandora’s blade.

The Brotherhood of Gorm (Room 24-24a)

The Brotherhood is the most rigid and disciplined of the factions. Their initiation is almost religious in nature, involving a sacred oath before an altar to Gorm. Their warriors are strong, loyal, and unwavering, but they are also the least flexible of the factions.

A key roleplaying moment in this section is the door to their ceremonial chambers, which shocks anyone who touches it without saying the words “By the great god Gorm.” This small detail reinforces the Brotherhood’s strict adherence to tradition and law—a trait that defines every interaction with them.

Joining the Brotherhood means embracing law, order, and absolute loyalty. For some players, this will be an appealing structure. For others, it will feel stifling and restrictive.

Tier 4: The Tombs of the Ancients

If Tier 3 is about living factions and political intrigue, Tier 4 is where the dead hold sway.

This level contains the burial chambers of King Alexander, Queen Zenobia, and the nobles of Cynidicea. These tombs are haunted, trapped, and filled with the remnants of a once-glorious kingdom.

Major Encounters in Tier 4

• Ghostly Warnings (Room 25a) – The spirits of King Alexander and Queen Zenobia appear before the party, warning them that only death awaits them below. This is a classic OSR-style warning—one that the players can heed or ignore.

• The False Tomb (Room 33) – An elaborate fake burial chamber filled with counterfeit treasure meant to deceive grave robbers. This is a trap of arrogance, meant to punish players who assume they’ve found the motherlode.

• Queen Zenobia’s Wight (Room 32) – If the players open her sarcophagus, they face a deadly wight who will drain their levels if they aren’t prepared. This is a moment where OSR-style caution is key—charging in recklessly could cost them dearly.

• King Alexander’s Banshee (Room 34) – A banshee wails, dealing automatic damage, forcing players to flee or find a way to silence it. This is a battle of endurance, testing how well the party manages their resources after so many prior encounters.

By the time the players leave Tier 4, they should feel like they are no longer just lost adventurers—they are now part of the Lost City’s story.

They have seen its fading factions, its corrupted nobility, and its monstrous guardians. They know that something greater lies below—a force older than the pyramid itself.

The choice is now theirs.

Do they continue downward into the forgotten depths?

Or do they turn back—knowing that what waits below may consume them forever?

Tier 5: The Threshold of Darkness

As the party descends into Tier 5, they are stepping into the final frontier of the pyramid—the deepest and darkest reaches before the Lost City itself. Unlike the previous levels, which balance faction intrigue and ancient history, this tier is more dangerous, more unpredictable, and far more sinister.

By now, the players should be feeling the weight of the journey. They have encountered the feuding remnants of Cynidicea’s society, battled their way through crumbling tombs, and witnessed the last echoes of a once-mighty civilization. But Tier 5 is different. This is a transition point—a place filled with both terrifying creatures and tantalizing clues about what lies below.

This is where you remind your players that survival is never guaranteed. The encounters here are varied and strange, and the choices they make will determine whether they are truly ready to descend further.

This level of The Lost City is where things start to shift from a survival dungeon crawl to something deeper and more dangerous. Players are no longer just scavenging for supplies—they’re dealing with infiltration, deception, and supernatural forces that change the way the game is played.

• The ogres set the stage with their comedic but deadly encounter.

• The dopplegangers take things to the next level with psychological horror.

• The polymar keeps players on edge by challenging their assumptions.

• Demetrius’ possession introduces a compelling roleplaying hook with real consequences.

• The wererats hint at bigger dangers beyond the pyramid.

By the time players finish Tier 5, they’ll realize they’re in far deeper than just some old ruins. This is the beginning of something far stranger, far deadlier, and far more legendary.

Expanding B4: The Lost City – Beneath the Pyramid

If your players have survived the upper levels of the Lost City, they’ve already seen how deep the rabbit hole goes. But the adventure doesn’t have to end at the step-pyramid.

The true horrors of Cynidicea are waiting far below—buried in darkness, twisted by cultic madness, and guarded by things that should never have been awakened.

At this point, the game shifts from survival and exploration to something much darker. The deeper tiers of the pyramid and the underground city hold the remnants of a lost civilization, ancient secrets that might never have been meant for mortal eyes, and at the bottom of it all—Zargon, the creeping god-thing that whispers madness into the hearts of its followers.

This is where you as the DM gets to take full creative control, using the bones of the module as a foundation for something much larger. The D&D Expert Rules will be helpful, but more than anything, this is where you, as the DM, bring the world of Cynidicea to life.

Expanding the Pyramid

The original pyramid was never meant to be this large. The lower levels were dug out by generations of slaves, carving a series of chambers meant to depict the Cynidicean afterlife. Each room was supposed to illustrate a different stage of the soul’s journey after death—a final resting place full of art, philosophy, and eternal peace.

But that was before Zargon was found.

Now, the deeper levels are twisted reflections of what they were meant to be. The slaves who built these chambers never saw them completed. The priests who once honored the dead now feed them to their god. The paintings meant to depict paradise were never finished—the last mural was never painted, because the final stage of the journey became Zargon’s lair.

Cynidiceans do not go this deep. Even the Priests of Zargon fear the darkness below, though they make their way downward when Zargon demands it. Most Cynidiceans found here will be sacrifices—wretched, half-dead, or lost in the dark corridors.

The wandering monsters on these levels should be more than just obstacles—they should be manifestations of the city’s corruption. The further down the players go, the less the pyramid feels like a structure and more like a living tomb.

Danger by Design

These levels are not for the faint of heart. If the party is still mostly first or second level, they are not meant to go down here alone. They will need a larger group, NPC allies, and every bit of cunning and luck they can muster.

If you expand the adventure, be aware that these encounters are not just about combat—they should create a sense of foreboding. Here are a few core elements to make sure the deeper pyramid feels truly deadly:

• Food and water are even scarcer than before. By now, survival should be as much of a concern as monsters.

• Light sources are crucial—the deeper levels are filled with magical darkness, flickering blue phosphorescence, and unnatural gloom. If the players run out of torches or spells, they are in serious trouble.

• Madness is setting in. The longer the party stays, the more they feel the pull of Zargon’s influence. Have them roll Wisdom checks at times to resist strange visions, paranoid thoughts, or even hallucinations of the past.

• Traps are deadlier. The tomb-builders never meant for these corridors to be walked by the living. Hidden pits, shifting walls, and cursed doorways should make exploration treacherous.

Tiers 6-10: The Descent into the Abyss

Each of the lower levels is a different stage in the journey toward Zargon. The pyramid begins to change—becoming less of a structure and more of a forgotten hell.

Tier 6: The Servants’ Graves

This level was once the living quarters of the pyramid’s builders and priests. Now, it is haunted by their restless spirits, filled with decaying ruins and strange remnants of their past lives.

• Encounters should be eerie, not just deadly—characters might find abandoned prayer rooms, decayed scrolls filled with half-legible text, or half-finished murals showing a vision of paradise that never came.

• Undead roam these halls—not mindless, but whispering in broken voices. Some beg for release; others warn of Zargon’s influence.

• The Priests of Zargon come here to meditate, seeking wisdom from the dead. The players may find a secret shrine, where blood offerings are made in exchange for prophetic visions.

Example Encounter: The Ghost Who Remembers

A once-great Cynidicean scholar lingers in a library filled with crumbling texts. If spoken to, he will recount what Cynidicea once was, but every few sentences, his words begin to contradict themselves. His mind is fractured by centuries of undeath—but within his ramblings are hints of what lies deeper below.

Tiers 7-9: The Threshold of Zargon

By now, the pyramid has lost all traces of civilization. These tiers are rough-hewn caves, choked with fungus, and crawling with monstrous things. The paintings on the walls depict the soul’s journey after death, but something has warped them—the souls in the murals are screaming, melting, or praying to something not meant to be worshiped.

• Creatures here are not of this world. Shadows flit just beyond sight. Statues turn their heads when no one is looking.

• The monsters have adapted to the darkness—spiders, carrion crawlers, and tentacled horrors wait in ambush.

• The Priests of Zargon guard these corridors, performing their final rituals before they descend to meet their god.

Example Encounter: The Price of Passage

In Room 79, a pack of hellhounds sits atop a pile of copper coins. They watch the party carefully, waiting for a toll.

If the party throws coins onto the pile, the hellhounds let them pass. If they hesitate, the hounds grow restless. If they attack or try to move past without payment, the hounds unleash a fiery assault.

Beneath the pile of copper, something else is buried—perhaps a magic relic or something far more sinister. The players may need to risk the wrath of the hounds if they want to find out.

Tier 10: Zargon’s Lair

This is the heart of the nightmare—the place where Cynidicea’s madness began. This was supposed to be the final step on the soul’s journey—a paradise carved in stone, a tribute to the gods. Instead, it became a tomb for a monster.

Zargon is not just a monster—he is a force of entropy, an ancient evil that has devoured the very concept of hope. The Priests of Zargon sacrifice victims here, feeding their god not just flesh, but sanity.

How to Make Zargon Terrifying:

• He should be more than just a combat encounter—he is a god, a nightmare made flesh.

• The players should feel powerless at first—give them clues about how past heroes have failed to stop him.

• The lair should feel alien—flesh-like tunnels, pulsing walls, and a constant low whisper in the players’ minds.

Zargon should not be beaten easily. The players may need to find an ancient relic, a forgotten ritual, or even turn the three factions against him.

This is not just the final battle—it is the ultimate test of whether the players can escape Cynidicea’s madness intact.

And if they fail, they will become part of its legend.

Final Thoughts: Is B4: The Lost City Still Worth Playing Today?

So what is my final verdict? Is Dungeon Module B4: The Lost City worth playing today?

Absolutely!

B4: The Lost City stands as one of the most engaging and flexible adventures from the early days of Dungeons & Dragons, and it holds up remarkably well in modern OSR play.

It strikes a perfect balance between classic dungeon crawl mechanics, faction intrigue, and surreal pulp fantasy horror, offering something for every type of old-school player.

At its core, The Lost City isn’t just about looting a dungeon—it’s about survival, mystery, and power struggles. The adventure starts with a desperate search for food and water, then slowly pulls players into the strange, dreamlike underworld of Cynidicea, where nothing is quite what it seems. The further they go, the weirder it gets, culminating in a battle against Zargon, a monstrous eldritch entity that has corrupted an entire civilization.

This module works whether you want a tight, self-contained dungeon crawl or a sprawling campaign setting. If you run it straight from the book, you get a challenging pyramid crawl full of deadly encounters, cryptic factions, and classic dungeon hazards. But if you expand on it, The Lost City can become something much greater—a post-apocalyptic underground city teeming with intrigue, cultists, and secrets waiting to be uncovered.

The real magic of this adventure comes from its sandbox nature. Unlike more linear modules of the era, The Lost City allows players to choose their own path, shifting between exploration, combat, roleplaying, and survival elements at their own pace. The three major factions (the Brotherhood of Gorm, the Magi of Usamigaras, and the Warrior Maidens of Madarua) offer built-in allies, enemies, and moral dilemmas, while the ever-present threat of Zargon and his cult ensures that the stakes feel high no matter how the players engage with the world.

Another strength is its strong sword-and-sorcery vibes, making it feel like something straight out of a lost Weird Tales story. The Cynidiceans, with their masks, hallucinations, and strange customs, create a setting that feels completely unique among classic modules. It’s one part Howard’s Conan, one part Lovecraftian nightmare, and one part pure D&D weirdness.

For OSR fans, The Lost City is a must-play. It rewards player ingenuity, caution, and creativity, rather than just stats and combat prowess. It forces adventurers to adapt to a dying world full of dangerous secrets, while letting the DM weave as much or as little into it as they want. If you’re looking for an old-school dungeon crawl that can turn into a full-blown campaign, this is one of the best sandboxes ever written—and a reminder of why classic D&D is still so damn fun.

But I want to know what you think! Drop a comment below and let me know what you think of Dungeon Module B4. Do you own it? Have you played through it? Have you run it? What did YOU think? Let me know!

And hey, if you don’t own it, good news! You can grab a copy of Dungeon Module B4 in print or PDF at DriveThruRPG!

Dungeon Module B4: The Lost City

Okay, that’s gonna do it for today stat-rollers! Until next time, grab your dice, steady your torch, and tread carefully—the halls of the lost pyramid are filled with peril, and the watchful eye of Zargon is never far. And as always—may the dice roll ever in your favor.

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