Hey Stat Rollers! Bill with Roll Stats! Today, we’re diving into X2: Castle Amber, a classic D&D adventure that blends gothic horror, medieval fantasy, and dreamlike weirdness.

Dungeon Module X2: Castle Amber, written by Tom Moldvay and published by TSR in 1981, is one of the most unique offerings from TSR Dungeons & Dragons. It drops players into a surreal and dangerous mansion, populated by an eccentric, cursed family and filled with bizarre encounters, magical oddities, and literary inspirations that set it apart from more straightforward dungeon crawls.

But does X2: Castle Amber still hold up today? And how does it compare to other classic TSR modules? So, let’s dive deep into this module, exploring its history, content, and legacy.

But before we go any further, this is your spoiler warning—I’ll discuss the details of Dungeon Module X2: Castle Amber in this video. So, if you want to experience it firsthand, maybe send your DM this way instead and come back after your first playthrough.

The History and Legacy of X2: Castle Amber

X2: Castle Amber (Chateau d’Amberville) was designed for characters of levels 3–6 and was originally published in 1981 as part of the D&D Expert Series of modules. Written by Tom Moldvay, this module stands out due to its strong literary influences, drawing inspiration from Clark Ashton Smith‘s Averoigne stories and Edgar Allan Poe‘s The Fall of the House of Usher. X2: Castle Amber plunges players into an isolated, dreamlike nightmare, where logic bends, reality twists, and danger lurks behind every gilded door.

X2: Castle Amber is like a fever dream wrapped in a gothic novel. Your players are trapped in a pocket dimension, unable to leave until they unravel the madness and secrets of the Amber family. It feels like stepping into a phantasmagorical house of horrors, where each room offers something bizarre—a lavish dinner party with undead nobles, an indoor forest hidden within the mansion’s walls, or a cursed duel where players must fight for their souls.

X2: Castle Amber is unique because it balances mystery, horror, and absurdity. The Amber family isn’t just evil—they’re unhinged, theatrical, and utterly detached from reality, making encounters with them feel like scenes ripped from a dark fairy tale or an old Hammer Horror film. The module sometimes plays like a fantasy horror-comedy, with unexpected magical effects, oddball NPCs, and whimsical weirdness that keep players on edge.

X2: Castle Amber has built a cult following over the decades, particularly among fans of weird fiction. Its literary roots give it a depth and charm that not all TSR modules have, making it feel like a tabletop adaptation of lost gothic pulp stories. The surreal atmosphere, mixed with deadly encounters and puzzle-like challenges, has kept it in circulation among TSR enthusiasts, and it remains a beloved, albeit niche, classic in D&D history.

Re-releases and Modern Publications of X2: Castle Amber

Over the years, X2: Castle Amber has seen multiple reprints and modern adaptations, ensuring that new generations of players can experience its unique brand of weirdness.

In 2013, X2: Castle Amber got a new lease on life when Wizards of the Coast re-released it as a PDF on DriveThruRPG. This was a big deal for those of us who love old-school modules but don’t always have access to the original print versions. With the rise of digital distribution, it suddenly became much easier to track down and run the adventure in its original form without having to hunt through online auctions or hope for a lucky find at a convention.

Then, in 2021, X2: Castle Amber got the full modern treatment from Goodman Games as part of their Original Adventures Reincarnated series. This wasn’t just a simple reprint—it was a massive expansion that brought the adventure into 5E while keeping the original content intact. Goodman Games didn’t just convert stat blocks; they went all in, providing historical context, designer commentary, and additional material to flesh out the world of Averoigne. They expanded encounters, added new monsters, and fine-tuned the mechanics to make the adventure more accessible to modern audiences while still keeping that wonderfully bizarre pulp horror-fantasy vibe that made X2: Castle Amber such a standout in the first place. Whether you’re a die-hard OSR fan or a new-school player looking to experience one of the strangest and most iconic classic adventures, this version offers a fantastic way to do it.

The Lasting Influence of X2: Castle Amber

X2: Castle Amber is often listed among the must-run D&D adventures, it holds a special place for DMs who appreciate the stranger side of the game. It’s an adventure that pushes creativity, rewarding players who engage with its oddities. It also set a precedent for weird, reality-warping dungeon crawls, influencing later adventures that experimented with pocket dimensions, dream logic, and gothic horror themes.

For those who love Clark Ashton Smith’s eerie, decadent storytelling or want a D&D experience that feels like stepping into a lost gothic novel, X2: Castle Amber remains one of the most unique and rewarding adventures ever published. Whether you’re running it in its original Expert D&D format or tweaking it for an OSR system like OSE or Swords & Wizardry, this is a module that deserves to be experienced.

Part 1: Introduction – Welcome to the Madness of X2

The introduction of X2: Castle Amber does an excellent job of setting the stage for one of the most unpredictable and engaging TSR modules ever made. It warns players to expect the unexpected, gives DMs solid guidance on running the adventure, and lays the foundation for the surreal nightmare world they’re about to explore.

This is not a module that you can run straight out of the book without preparation. But if you take the time to absorb its strange, gothic atmosphere and embrace the Amber family’s twisted sense of humor, it makes for one of the most memorable old-school adventures out there.

The Amber Family makes X2: Castle Amber stand out, and understanding who they are—and where they came from—adds a lot of depth to the adventure. Unlike many villainous noble houses in fantasy settings, the Ambers aren’t just a corrupt dynasty ruling over a cursed land. No, they’re something far stranger. They’re exiled sorcerers from another dimension, a dysfunctional family of mad aristocrats, and most of all, they’re deeply, deeply chaotic—in every sense of the word.

The Origins of the Amber Family: Exiled from Averoigne

The Ambers weren’t originally from the world of Mystara. Their roots trace back to Averoigne, a parallel Earth with a history that mirrors medieval France—except for two key differences:

In this world, magic is very real—but it’s strictly outlawed. That doesn’t mean people don’t practice it, of course. There are always those willing to take the risk, whether they’re desperate for power, seeking forbidden knowledge, or simply trying to survive. But the consequences for getting caught are severe. The Church and the ruling powers see magic as a corrupting force, a remnant of an older, darker age that must be stamped out wherever it appears. Public burnings, inquisitions, and brutal purges are common, but still, magic lingers in the shadows, whispered about in secret, traded in back alleys, and hidden in long-forgotten tomes.

And then, society itself is locked in an extended medieval era. There are no great leaps forward—no Renaissance, no industrial progress, no sudden innovations to shake the foundation of the world. Whether this stagnation is natural or the result of some unseen force is up for debate, but one thing is certain: the world remains steeped in feudalism, with lords and kings ruling over lands that have changed little in centuries. Superstition runs deep, and the common folk cling to tradition because stepping too far outside the accepted ways can mean death. It’s a world of castles and cathedrals, of knights and inquisitors, of secret cabals and ancient, forgotten evils lurking just beneath the surface.

The D’Amberville family was a noble house in Averoigne, but they were also secret practitioners of magic, something absolutely forbidden in their homeland. They weren’t content with simple hedge magic, either—their studies turned darker and darker, delving into forbidden knowledge and ancient eldritch powers. Eventually, they were discovered, branded as heretics, and hunted down.

A war broke out between the D’Ambervilles and their enemies in Averoigne. But rather than facing complete destruction, the family used their magic to escape through a dimensional gateway, fleeing to Glantri, a kingdom known for being ruled by powerful magic-users. Here, they reinvented themselves, shortening their name from D’Amberville to Amber, adopting new customs, and quickly becoming one of the dominant ruling families in the land.

For generations, the Amber family thrived in Glantri, growing in power until they were one of the most influential magical dynasties in the kingdom. The seventh and last Prince, Stephen Amber, became one of the most powerful wizards in Glantri’s history.

And then—they vanished.

One day, X2: Castle Amber disappeared, taking the entire family with it. No one knew where they had gone or why. Over the years, they became legends, whispered about in stories to frighten children. Did they destroy themselves? Were they cursed? Did Stephen Amber’s magic backfire? No one knew for sure.

The Madness of the Amber Family

The Ambers are not your typical noble family. They’re not just rich and powerful—they’re completely unhinged. Over their long, magically extended lifetimes, they’ve grown bored, erratic, and cruel, and they’re willing to amuse themselves at the expense of others—including the adventurers trapped in their mansion.

Here are the core traits of the Amber family that the DM should keep in mind when running this adventure.

The Amber family is completely, gloriously unhinged. Some of them are just a little eccentric—maybe they talk to themselves, collect odd trinkets, or have a habit of staring a bit too long. Others are full-blown, raving lunatics, the kind who cackle in the dark and weave elaborate, nonsensical schemes just to amuse themselves. Madness runs in their blood, and rather than shy away from it, they embrace it like an old friend.

They’re also fiercely individualistic. Unlike the typical noble family that works together to protect their wealth and power, the Ambers are more like a collection of self-absorbed maniacs, each with their own personal ambitions, experiments, or deadly pastimes. They rarely cooperate unless forced to, and even then, they’re just as likely to turn on each other as they are to oppose a common enemy. It’s not that they don’t care about their lineage—they do, deeply. But to them, being an Amber means being the most interesting Amber, not necessarily the most powerful or influential.

And then there’s their sense of humor. It’s twisted, theatrical, and usually involves elaborate traps, strange riddles, and impossible challenges. They don’t always want adventurers dead—where’s the fun in that? No, the real joy is in watching them struggle, seeing if they can claw their way out of whatever cruel game has been set up for them. For the Ambers, it’s not about winning—it’s about the spectacle. A rigged game is boring, predictable. They’ll play fair if it makes things more interesting, and they’ll even respect those who manage to beat them at their own game. But if an adventurer stumbles, well… that’s just part of the fun.

In short, the Ambers are equal parts aristocrats, mad scientists, and carnival ringmasters, each playing their own bizarre game with reality. They don’t rule their domain so much as they curate it, turning their home into a living nightmare of shifting rooms, arcane horrors, and strange, dreamlike encounters. And they’re always watching, waiting to see if anyone is clever, lucky, or mad enough to survive.

The Amber Family’s Influence on the Adventure

The personalities of the Amber family members set the entire tone for X2: Castle Amber. Unlike a traditional dungeon crawl, where adventurers plunder ruins left behind by long-dead civilizations, X2: Castle Amber is a living, active madhouse filled with its former inhabitants—still alive, scheming, and dangerous.

Because of this, X2: Castle Amber plays more like an interactive story than most early TSR modules. Encounters aren’t just fights or traps—they’re social challenges, puzzles, and bizarre events that force players to think creatively.

As a DM, you should lean into the theatricality of the Amber family. Give them distinct voices, mannerisms, and attitudes—some should be charming and elegant, others boorish and rude, and some completely off-the-rails unpredictable.

The more colorful and strange you make them, the more fun X2: Castle Amber will be. The players should never feel like they’re just fighting monsters in a dungeon—they should feel like they’ve stepped into a twisted, surreal nightmare where the laws of reality bend at the whims of mad nobility.

If you’re running this module, embrace the madness. Let the Amber family be as eccentric, theatrical, and unpredictable as possible, and your players will walk away from X2: Castle Amber with a truly unforgettable story.

Part 1: Welcome to Castle Amber

Unlike most modules that start with a clear objective, X2: Castle Amber begins with a total loss of control, forcing the players into a mysterious, haunted mansion without immediate explanation. It’s a railroad, yes. But trust me, it’s worth it.

The adventure begins with your players on the road to Glantri City, following rumors that one of the Princes of Glantri is hiring adventurers for some unknown mission. This sounds like a solid gig—Glantri’s rulers are known for their wealth, magical power, and willingness to reward those who serve them well.

And that’s when everything starts to go off the rails. There’s no clear path, no handy guide waiting to lead the way. The players are stuck piecing together secondhand rumors and half-remembered directions, hoping they’re heading the right way. Of course, they aren’t.

Somewhere along the journey, they take a wrong turn. Maybe an old man at a roadside inn gave them bad directions. Maybe they misread the fading markings on a weathered milestone. Maybe the road just wasn’t there when they expected it to be. Whatever the cause, they soon realize they’re completely, utterly lost. The landscape grows stranger with each passing mile. The trees loom taller, the paths wind in ways that make no sense, and the air itself feels thick with something wrong.

By the time night falls, there’s nothing to do but set up camp and hope for the best. The fire crackles, shadows stretch just a little too far, and the stars overhead look unfamiliar. It’s their last night in the world they know—the last few hours before everything shifts and the nightmare of X2: Castle Amber truly begins. But they don’t realize that yet. Not until they wake up… and find themselves somewhere else.

This setup deliberately lulls the players into a false sense of security. They think they’re just bedding down for the night, maybe expecting a random encounter or two. Instead, they wake up in a nightmare.

The moment dawn breaks, everything is wrong. The party wakes up to find the wilderness gone—no rolling hills, trees, or river guiding them to Glantri. Instead, they are in a grand foyer with plush carpets, polished candelabras, and ornate tapestries covering the walls.

If that weren’t unsettling enough, the real horror is just outside. The landscape has been consumed by a swirling, opaque gray mist that blocks all sight and sound beyond a 30-foot radius around the mansion. Yes. X2: Castle Amber incorporates the deadly mist trope to force the players into exploring Castle Amber. Is it cliche? No doubt. Is it railroading? Absolutely. But is it worth it? Without question!

One of the party’s mules accidentally wanders into the mist. The lead rope is still visible, but the mule vanishes into the swirling fog, and when your players pull the rope back, their mule’s lifeless body is dragged out—dead, contorted in agony, and with no apparent cause of death.

Then, just in case your players haven’t picked up on the obvious clues, the mist starts closing in, pushing the players toward the double doors that lead deeper into the mansion. Those doors, of course, swing open on their own as if inviting the party inside.

If your players are still not picking up on the railroad, they might want to test the mist—and that’s when it should become crystal clear.

If any character gets the bright idea to step into the mist instead of heading into the mansion, things go south fast. The second they set foot inside, their throat tightens as if invisible hands are choking the life out of them. Their muscles lock up, cramping with unbearable pain, and a wave of nausea crashes over them.

Then come the visions—horrors beyond understanding, writhing shapes in the swirling fog, flashes of things that should not be. A deep, primal dread takes hold, something beyond fear, something that whispers you do not belong here. Their mind fractures under the weight of it. Every round they stay in the mist, they’re fighting for their life. They need to save vs. poison or take 1d6 damage as their body rebels against the unnatural forces clawing at them. At the same time, they must save vs. spells or lose themselves completely, their mind snapping as raw terror forces them to flee blindly—right back into the mansion where they belong.

The mist doesn’t just kill outright—it overwhelms, breaks down, and shatters the mind. This isn’t a combat encounter—it’s a trap with no solution except to play along. I mean, it’s a railroad.

The DM’s notes specify that the mist should not kill the characters outright but rather serve as an inescapable mechanism to ensure they explore Castle Amber. This is the definition of a railroad.

This opening effectively removes player agency, which DMs should never do. However, in X2: Castle Amber, the entire module is about unraveling this mystery and finding a way back to reality. The mist forces your players into the castle, ensuring they engage with the module rather than trying to bypass it.

It’s also incredibly atmospheric, drawing inspiration from gothic horror stories like The Fall of the House of Usher and the weird fiction of Clark Ashton Smith. Instead of just dropping the players into a dungeon with a quest, it traps them in an isolated pocket of nightmare reality, where the only way out is to solve the mystery of Castle Amber itself.

Unlike most classic modules, where your players seek out adventure, in X2: Castle Amber, adventure seeks them out. Essentially, they wake up in a nightmare; the only way out is to go forward.

Welcome to X2: Castle Amber.

Part 2: The West Wing of Castle Amber

The first stretch of Castle Amber is where the players start to realize just how weird this place really is. It’s a chaotic mix of haunted house eeriness, dreamlike absurdity, and pure old-school magical mayhem. Right from the start, the party is thrown into bizarre situations that feel like they belong in some fever-dream version of Alice in Wonderland—if Alice had to fight off spectral nobles and mutant cat-people just to get through the front door.

Take the Grand Salon, for example. Instead of cobwebs and ghosts, the party finds a boxing ring set up in the middle of an extravagant ballroom. Inside the ring stands a magical construct, a demos magen, frozen in a fighter’s stance, waiting for someone to step up and throw hands. Watching from the sidelines is Jean-Louis Amber, decked out in ridiculous finery, flanked by his two magen bodyguards. Floating in the air above the seats are dozens of glowing, unblinking red eyes—other Amber family members who have cast wizard eye just to watch the spectacle. Jean-Louis offers the party a wager: send in a champion for a bare-knuckle fight, and they can win up to 10,000 gold. If they decline, no harm, no foul—he’s just here for a good show. But if they attack? Jean-Louis fights back as a 12th-level fighter. The rest of the Amber family won’t step in to help or stop him. They just want to see what happens.

Then there’s the Study, which has been claimed by a band of Rakasta—agile, tiger-like humanoids who will fight any intruders. They’re not just here for flavor either; they’re guarding one of the most important keys in the castle—the Silver Gate Key, one of the items the party must find if they want to escape this madhouse.

And speaking of surreal encounters, the Dining Room is straight-up haunted. When the party enters, they see a decayed, abandoned banquet hall. But within moments, ghostly nobles begin to appear, elegantly dressed and completely oblivious to the fact that they’re very dead. The party is invited to join them at the feast, and if they sit down, they can partake in a meal with wildly unpredictable magical effects. Some dishes heal or boost stats, but others are deadly—poison, starvation, or worse, trapping the unfortunate diner as a permanent ghost, doomed to haunt the castle forever.

The Hall of Mirrors is another standout moment, a corridor lined with thousands of tiny mirrored tiles reflecting torchlight like a swarm of fireflies. But when the doors slam shut behind them, all light sources go out instantly. If they try to relight a torch or cast light, every single candle in the hall ignites at once, creating an explosion of blinding brilliance. Every party member has to save vs. spells or be completely blind for several turns—and of course, wandering monsters don’t wait politely for their vision to return.

The castle’s sense of humor gets darker in the Servants’ Quarters, which have been completely overrun by aranea—giant, intelligent spellcasting spiders. They nest in thick webs, hoarding treasure in silk cocoons. The right loot is there if the players are brave (or reckless) enough to grab it, but fighting these creatures in their own lair is a serious challenge.

Then there’s the infamous Green Slime Trap, an old-school dungeon deathtrap at its finest. A stone chest sits in the middle of the room, seemingly unguarded—except that the entire floor is covered in green slime. The ceiling hides a black pudding, and the chest itself is coated in gray ooze. It’s the dungeon equivalent of a cruel joke, and any party that rushes forward without caution is going to regret it.

Not every Amber is immediately hostile. Richard Amber, the Lion-Hearted, is a 10th-level fighter with a lion’s head and a terrifying roar attack that causes fear. He’s the leader of the Rakasta, and if the party has already tangled with them, things might get interesting fast. Then there’s the Sleeping Ogre, a massive brute charmed into believing he is Janet Amber. The disguise is so laughably bad that the party should realize something’s off immediately. If they call him out on it, he flies into a rage and attacks.

And just in case the party needed more ghostly weirdness, one bedroom houses a pair of wraiths that will drain the life from anyone foolish enough to disturb them. The only treasure is locked inside a trapped safe, which—if opened improperly—unleashes a cloud of deadly spores.

Even the kitchen is haunted, filled with transparent hobgoblin servants going about their duties as if nothing is wrong. They can’t interact with the party and won’t react to anything, making the whole scene feel even more unsettling.

The West Wing is a masterclass in mixing horror, weird fantasy, and twisted humor. Some encounters are deadly, some are just unsettling, and others feel like cruel jokes played at the players’ expense. But there’s one crucial thing the party has to do in this wing—find the Silver Gate Key in the Study. If they skip too many rooms, they could hit a dead end later.

By the time they leave this part of the mansion, the party should understand one thing loud and clear—the Ambers are insane, the castle is alive, and the only way out is to play along with the madness.

Which, of course, leads them straight to the indoor forest…

Part 3: Castle Amber’s Indoor Forest

Now, this is where Castle Amber fully embraces its dreamlike, almost storybook quality. Instead of another dimly lit corridor or ghost-infested chamber, the party steps into a massive octagonal greenhouse—an indoor forest that stretches beneath seven enormous glass domes.

Sunlight, filtered through layers of misty glass, bathes the landscape in an ethereal glow. Trees tower over them, wildflowers bloom in brilliant colors, and a stream winds its way through the heart of the garden, pooling into a stone fountain at its center. A narrow, winding path meanders through the lush overgrowth, carefully designed as a picturesque garden walk.

It would be peaceful—if not for the ever-present sense that something is watching.

The forest is thick, and the path only allows for a narrow view, barely ten feet ahead. The further the party ventures, the more the shifting branches and unseen movements begin to play tricks on the mind. Stepping off the trail slows progress significantly, the underbrush thick and tangled. Navigating through it isn’t just inconvenient—it’s treacherous. The party might get lost, thrown into a random direction if they aren’t careful. The Amber family, always ones for elaborate games, has even rigged the place with hidden pit traps lined with sharpened stakes, just waiting for some unfortunate adventurer to stumble into them. Thorny brambles wall off entire sections, making parts of the forest completely inaccessible.

The stream, though slow and clear, presents its own problems. Crossing it anywhere other than the designated bridge takes a full turn, leaving any unfortunate wanderer vulnerable to whatever lurks in the foliage. And, of course, there are creatures here. This is Castle Amber, after all. The Ambers may have abandoned this section of the chateau, but they left plenty of their little “experiments” behind. Some of them are monsters, some of them are just… odd.

Unlike the rest of Castle Amber, the oppressive gray mist isn’t present in the sky above this strange forest. The space feels more open, almost like stepping into another world. That makes it a refreshing change from the gloomy, claustrophobic halls, but don’t let the sunlight fool you—this place is just as deadly as the rest of the chateau.

One of the strangest encounters here is The Maiden and the Unicorn. As the party pushes deeper into the garden, they come upon an almost storybook-perfect scene: a golden-haired woman in a daffodil-colored gown, peacefully sleeping on the path. Her head rests on a saffron cloak, and beside her, a unicorn slumbers, radiating an aura of complete tranquility. Within her grasp, a small wooden chest lies half-buried in the grass.

But, as with everything in Castle Amber, appearances are deceiving.

The maiden isn’t human at all—she’s a young gold dragon in disguise, hiding out in this enchanted refuge. She’s noble and intelligent, capable of casting spells like charm person, protection from evil, and dispel magic while in her humanoid form. If forced back into her true shape, she reveals her full draconic strength, but rather than breathing fire (which would likely ignite the entire forest), she exhales a lethal cloud of chlorine gas. The unicorn, ever her loyal companion, will defend her with everything it has.

If the party approaches with kindness and caution, they might gain a powerful, if reclusive, ally. If they let greed get the better of them, they’ll be in for a brutal fight. The chest she holds contains a staggering 4,000 platinum pieces, but they’ll have to earn it—either through diplomacy or sheer survival.

This encounter isn’t just about treasure or combat; it’s a test. Do the players approach the unknown with curiosity and respect, or do they let their assumptions and avarice lead them into trouble? More than that, it reinforces the fairy-tale strangeness of the castle. A golden maiden and her unicorn companion slumbering in a mystical garden—it feels like something out of an old legend. But, like everything in Castle Amber, the truth is more complicated.

Not far from this encounter, the party stumbles upon something that feels ripped from an old bedtime story—The Billygoat’s Woe. As they approach a narrow wooden bridge spanning the stream, they see a goat-headed humanoid trembling at the edge, nervously pleading, “Please don’t eat me, Mr. Troll, my brothers are much bigger and fatter than I am.”

From beneath the bridge, a low, gruff voice rumbles in response: “All right, you may pass. I’ll wait for your brothers.”

The goat-headed figure wastes no time scrambling across the bridge and vanishing into the underbrush, leaving the party standing at the crossing.

And then, of course, the troll emerges.

A massive, shaggy brute with knotted green skin and a mouth full of jagged teeth, the troll lumbers up, peering at the adventurers. His beady eyes narrow. “Wait a minute… you’re the big, fat brothers, aren’t you?” Unless the party is quick to trick or deceive him, he attacks immediately.

This encounter is a great moment for player creativity. The party can fight the troll head-on, lure him away with false promises, or even use the environment against him. It’s classic fairy-tale logic, wrapped in Castle Amber’s twisted sense of humor. And, like any good troll, he won’t stay down unless the party uses fire or acid to finish the job.

These encounters showcase what makes the Indoor Forest such a brilliant section of the adventure. It’s a break from the endless halls of the chateau, but it doesn’t feel safe. It’s a place where fairy-tale wonder and nightmare logic mix, where the party never quite knows if they’re stepping into a dream or a trap.

And, of course, it’s just the beginning.

Part 4: The Chapel Inside Castle Amber

By this point, the players have probably figured out that Castle Amber isn’t just some eccentric noble estate full of magical oddities—it’s a place warped by madness, cursed by its own history, and teetering between reality and nightmare. Nowhere is that clearer than in the Amber family chapel, a grotesque parody of faith where devotion has twisted into something unrecognizable. If you want to dial up the gothic horror, this is where you do it.

The moment the party steps inside, they know something is wrong. It’s grand, ornate, and drenched in wealth—stained glass windows, plush velvet pews, and intricate woodwork everywhere they look. But there’s a gaudy excess to it all, like someone trying too hard to prove their piety. It doesn’t feel sacred. It feels hungry. The air is heavy with incense, but instead of calming the senses, it suffocates. The statues lining the walls, meant to depict saints, leer down with twisted grins. And somewhere, just beneath the surface of the silence, there’s the faintest sound of whispering.

This isn’t a house of mercy or salvation. It’s a place of judgment, of punishment, of forgotten horrors locked away behind gilded facades.

One of the most unnerving aspects of the chapel is the series of statues lining the walls. They’re not just decorative—they’re members of the Amber family, transformed into stone. And they’re still aware. Every time the party passes near one, there’s a chance it will animate, reaching out to touch them. That touch can be a blessing, a curse, or something far worse. A statue might bestow divine protection, grant temporary hit points, or whisper a cryptic truth. Just as easily, it could sap a character’s strength, afflict them with visions, or leave them with a grotesque physical transformation. The players will want to interact with them, but every choice is a gamble—just like everything else the Ambers do, worship was never about reverence. It was about spectacle.

This entire section of the adventure leans into gothic horror with a strong dose of the grotesque. The encounters here aren’t just dangerous—they’re unsettling. Take Madeline Amber, buried alive beneath the chapel floor. The party hears her before they find her—scratching, muffled howls of despair, a raw and desperate sound that doesn’t belong in a place of worship. She’s been trapped beneath the floor for who knows how long, mistakenly buried by her eccentric brother Charles. If the party rescues her, she’s grateful. But if they happen to run into Charles afterward, she immediately loses all reason and attacks him in a frenzy.

Then there’s Charles Amber himself, hiding away in the chapel’s library, completely undone by what he believes is his own madness. He’s been hearing voices, tortured by what he assumes are hallucinations, whispers from beyond the grave. Except they’re real. It’s his sister, still alive, clawing at the earth. If Madeline is freed and the two are reunited, it’s not a happy ending—it’s a tragedy in real-time. She bursts into the library, disheveled and broken, and without hesitation, she lunges for his throat. If the party ignored her cries and left her buried, she’ll eventually claw her way out on her own—but by then, she’s completely insane and attacks everyone in sight.

If the players aren’t already unnerved, the Reliquary Storage Room should do the trick. It looks like a simple storage area for sacred artifacts, but four small holes in the ceiling hint that not everything is as it seems. Reaching inside them blindly is a terrible idea—one hides a hive of killer bees, another a bladder of stagnant water that bursts down onto whoever disturbs it. One of them actually contains a sack of gold, which is a rare moment of generosity from the Ambers. But the last hole? That one holds a cockatrice, just waiting to drop down on some poor fool’s head. It’s the kind of encounter that plays on curiosity and greed, turning what seems like a simple treasure cache into a death trap.

Then there’s the Consultation Room, where ten skeletons sit in silent attendance before what appears to be a monk at his desk. Except, of course, it’s not a monk—it’s a bone golem in disguise. The moment the players step in, the skeletons rise, and the golem joins the attack. The only thing of real value here is the ornate silver key around the golem’s neck—one of the crucial pieces needed to open the Silver Gate to Averoigne. The party has to deal with this encounter one way or another, which makes it a deadly and unavoidable obstacle.

Even the most seemingly straightforward rooms have an air of menace. The monastic cells are empty except for robed figures sitting motionless on wooden slabs. At first glance, they look like monks in meditation. In reality, they’re undead, waiting for the right moment to spring to life. If the party disturbs one, they all rise, swarming like a tide of decayed flesh in amber-colored robes.

What makes this section so effective is that it’s not just another set of combat encounters—it’s an experience in psychological horror. The whole place feels wrong, and the deeper the party explores, the more they realize that faith, in Castle Amber, is just another game. The chapel isn’t a sanctuary—it’s another cruel amusement, another way for the Amber family to mock those who seek meaning in something greater than themselves.

The party will likely have to return here at some point because the real secret of the chapel lies beneath the altar—a hidden passage that leads to the dungeon. If they somehow miss it, they might still find their way down through the alternative entrance in the Black Room, but either way, they must descend. There’s no escaping Castle Amber without confronting the horrors buried in its depths.

This section of the module is where Castle Amber stops playing around. The weirdness is still there, but now there’s a real sense of dread creeping in. If you want your players to feel like they’re in a haunted place—not just a magical one—this is where you turn the dial up. Everything in the chapel whispers of doom, of things best left buried, of games played with the souls of the dead.

And there’s still worse to come.

Part 5: Castle Amber’s East Wing

The East Wing of Castle Amber dials up the weirdness, turning the dreamlike horror of the West Wing into something even stranger. If the West Wing was all about haunted house tropes and Gothic family drama, this side of the castle is a full-blown magical funhouse, where reality bends, fate plays cruel tricks, and nothing behaves the way players expect. The rooms here aren’t just locations—they’re traps, puzzles, performances, and twisted games, all designed to disorient, amuse, or utterly destroy intruders.

The Throne Room is one of the most ominous encounters in the East Wing, presenting a cursed coronation frozen in time. Two skeletal figures sit on thrones, surrounded by an army of unmoving skeletons—Henry Amber’s court, locked in undeath after his failed rebellion against Prince Stephen. But the real threat is Princess Catherine, a 13th-level wizard who still clings to existence in the form of a vengeful spirit. She doesn’t simply attack—she tries to possess one of the players, taking full control of their body and using their own skills and weapons against the party. If she succeeds, she gets access to her full spell list, making for a terrifying and chaotic fight.

Then there’s the Ballroom of the Cursed Jester, where the ghostly echoes of laughter linger in the air. A massive chandelier swings in slow, hypnotic arcs while Little-Ape, the Amber family’s ridiculed jester, watches from the shadows. He was mocked and humiliated one time too many, so he took revenge in the most Amber way possible—by turning his tormentors into apes. Now, three charmed white apes act as his personal guards. He doesn’t attack outright, though. He waits. If the party dares to wear any Amber family clothing, then he makes his move, hurling insults, casting spells, and turning the ballroom into a battlefield of acrobatic chaos.

The Haunted Library introduces Claude Amber, a fascinating outlier in the family. He’s cursed, yes—his head is that of a collie—but unlike most of his relatives, he’s neither cruel nor insane. Claude follows Law, a rarity in Castle Amber, and he actually wants to redeem his family’s name. He won’t fight unless provoked, and he might even offer the party some aid. His library holds the first real clue about escaping Castle Amber, revealing that the players must travel to Averoigne and retrieve four magical relics if they ever hope to break the curse. Up until this point, the party may have assumed they just needed to find the right key or solve the right puzzle inside the castle itself. Claude’s knowledge shatters that illusion—this isn’t just about surviving Castle Amber. It’s about leaving it behind entirely and venturing into an unfamiliar and dangerous world.

The Card Room is a classic high-risk, high-reward encounter. A spectral Madame Camilla Amber sits behind a velvet-covered table, offering the party a chance to draw from her deck of magical tarot cards. Each card is a gamble—some grant powerful artifacts, others deliver horrific curses, and a few are instant death. This is one of those moments where players will have to decide just how reckless or desperate they’re willing to be. Do they take the risk, knowing they could gain incredible power—or do they walk away, forever wondering what fate had in store?

The Color-Themed Rooms feel like something straight out of a twisted fairy tale. Each room presents a different magical test, some cryptic, others outright deadly. The Green Room features a Green Man who challenges players to behead him with a magic sword, but any attack that isn’t exactly what he asked for does absolutely nothing. The White Room is a frozen deathtrap where a frost salamander lurks in the snowdrifts, waiting for movement. The Black Room holds a secret trapdoor leading to the dungeon below, while the Red Room is guarded by a warrior from the Brotherhood of the Sun, who stands silent and unmoving unless provoked. And then there’s the Blue Room—which is just an empty room, but somehow feels more unsettling than any of the others. The players know something is off, but there’s no immediate threat, which just makes them more paranoid.

Claude Amber’s loyal guards, the Lupins, are another unique presence in the East Wing. These dog-headed warriors act as his personal protectors, patrolling the halls and keeping watch over a wand of fireballs and a displacer cloak stored inside a locked chest. If the party fights Claude, the Lupins will defend him with brutal efficiency—but if they befriend him, they might be able to negotiate for some of the treasures he protects.

Finally, before they leave, the party will have to deal with the Gremlins of the Foyer. Unlike many of the other threats in Castle Amber, these chaotic little fiends don’t want to kill—they want to humiliate. Their auras cause weapons to break, spells to backfire, and attacks to fail spectacularly. What should be an easy final stretch turns into a slapstick nightmare, with the party’s best-laid plans turning against them in the most ridiculous ways possible. The only way through is either brute force, clever magic, or sheer luck.

The East Wing is where the castle’s funhouse dungeon aesthetic truly shines. It’s surreal, unpredictable, and filled with arbitrary, dreamlike dangers. One room might offer a throne and a kingdom, another might kill you outright with a single unlucky card draw. The lack of clear logic is what keeps the players on edge—anything could happen next, and that sense of ever-present uncertainty is what makes Castle Amber such a wild, unforgettable adventure.

More importantly, this is where the truth about Averoigne is finally revealed. Up until now, players may have believed there was a way to escape by simply unraveling the castle’s mysteries. But now they know the real challenge lies outside—in a world where magic is outlawed, the Inquisition hunts spellcasters, and they must recover four powerful relics to break the Amber family’s curse.

This realization shifts the adventure into something even bigger. What started as a haunted mansion crawl is now a dimension-hopping odyssey, where escaping Castle Amber is just the first step in a much larger, stranger journey.

Part 6: The Dungeon Beneath Castle Amber

Beneath the crumbling, haunted halls of Castle Amber lies something even worse—a nightmarish dungeon filled with horrors that even the twisted Amber family wouldn’t keep in their living quarters. This isn’t just another level of the mansion; it’s a prison, a laboratory, a deathtrap, and a graveyard all in one. Here, the last remnants of the family’s madness fester unchecked, and every step forward is a gamble.

Unlike the chateau above, there are no quirky Amber aristocrats waiting to challenge the party to duels or invite them to bizarre feasts. The dungeon is where all pretense of civility drops. The creatures and entities lurking here don’t care about amusement—they exist to kill, devour, or worse. It’s a relentless test of problem-solving, endurance, and survival. And at the heart of it all is the Gate of the Silver Keys, the one way out of this waking nightmare.

One of the first challenges the party may stumble into is the Magical Letter Square, a deceptively simple puzzle that forces them to step on specific letters to spell out a magical name. Get it right, and they earn a boon. Get it wrong, and the consequences range from mere inconvenience to outright horror—blindness, lycanthropy, paranoia, or worse, permanent insanity. This puzzle is a perfect example of Castle Amber’s cruel genius. It’s not just about knowing the right answer, but about the nerve-wracking tension of placing each step, waiting to see if disaster strikes.

Then there are the Cells of the Lost, a row of prison chambers housing the truly wretched souls left behind by the Ambers. There’s a lunatic wizard, endlessly painting the moon on the walls of his cell. An illusory minotaur that torments anyone foolish enough to engage with it. And then there’s Gaston Amber, a feral, dagger-wielding maniac lurking in the shadows, waiting to lash out at anyone who comes near. If any player succumbed to lunacy from the Letter Square, they’re drawn straight into a cell—right into Gaston’s waiting blade.

Things only get worse in the Morgue, a cold, silent chamber filled with the husks of those who came before. At first glance, it’s just a room full of drained, brainless bodies—but in the next chamber, the Brain Collector awaits. This nightmare creature, a Neh-Thalggu, has been harvesting minds for its own purposes, absorbing their intelligence and using their stolen memories to fuel its spells. It’s one of the most terrifying creatures in the entire dungeon, and what makes it truly horrifying is that every time it kills, it gets stronger.

The twisted experiments don’t stop there. The Magen Vats hold freshly created magical constructs—unnerving, soulless beings of alchemical flesh, standing ready to serve whatever wizard left them behind. The party will have to contend with a lightning-wielding Galvan magen and a Hypnos magen that can lull them into an enchanted sleep, all while navigating the eerie, abandoned laboratory where these abominations were made.

And then there’s the Alchemical Nightmare, a laboratory filled with clouds of black lotus dust. If the party breathes it in, they don’t just pass out—they become trapped in vividly real dreams, where anything is possible. They could sprout wings, gain new magical powers, or suddenly find themselves standing in Averoigne with no idea how they got there. The dream world isn’t safe, and escaping it is just as tricky as avoiding whatever threats lurk in the waking world.

For those driven by greed, the Great Worm is an insidious trap. A glittering pile of treasure lies waiting, but it’s not gold—it’s the back of a massive slime-coated worm, perfectly camouflaged to lure in treasure-hungry adventurers. The moment someone tries to scoop up a handful of coins, the beast strikes. Worse still, it can swallow characters whole, forcing them to carve their way out before they suffocate in its digestive tract.

Some puzzles are just as cruel as the monsters. Bobbing for a Key presents a simple challenge: retrieve a silver key floating in a fragile glass sphere. The problem? The sphere is suspended over a vat of acid. A single mistake shatters the glass and destroys the key, forcing the party to find another way forward. This is Castle Amber at its finest—turning even the simplest tasks into moments of high-stakes decision-making.

Then there’s the Demon of Death, a true wildcard encounter. Bound within a pentagram, this creature of utter darkness is desperate for release. It promises anything—riches, knowledge, even safe passage—but if the players are foolish enough to set it free, it immediately turns on them. Its paralytic claws and venomous bite make it one of the deadliest foes in the dungeon, but the real terror comes from the knowledge that, once unleashed, it’s a threat to everyone, not just the party.

The deeper the players go, the more they realize this dungeon was never meant to be escaped. The Kennels hold a pack of hellhounds, trained to attack any intruder who doesn’t bear the Amber family bloodline. The Entrance to the Land of the Ghouls is even worse—a yawning pit that leads into an endless labyrinth of the dead. The module barely details what lies below, but any DM with a love for horror could turn this into a sprawling underworld of unspeakable terror.

At the very end of it all, the Gate of the Silver Keys stands as the final challenge. The portal to Averoigne is locked, and to open it, the party must possess three silver keys scattered throughout the dungeon. Standing in their way is a massive amber golem, a towering construct built to prevent any unworthy soul from escaping. This is the final test—get past the golem, use the keys, and step through the gate.

But the moment they cross the threshold, they’re not free. They’ve only traded one nightmare for another. Averoigne awaits, and while it may not be the same brand of madness as Castle Amber, it holds its own dangers. The party still has a long way to go before they truly break the Amber family’s curse.

This dungeon is where Castle Amber stops being quirky and starts being a full-on death trap. The challenges are brutal, the monsters are relentless, and the puzzles are designed to mess with the players’ minds just as much as their characters’ hit points. If they make it out, they’ll be changed—scarred, battered, and forever haunted by what they saw beneath the chateau. But one thing’s for sure: they’ll never forget the nightmare of Castle Amber’s dungeon.

Part 7: Averoigne – A Parallel World of Medieval France

Averoigne is a stark contrast to the chaotic, surreal nightmare of Castle Amber. Instead of mad aristocrats, shifting architecture, and bizarre magical traps, the party finds themselves in a land grounded in gothic horror, medieval superstition, and dangerous intrigue. This is a world where magic is real but feared, where spellcasters must tread carefully or risk being hunted by the Inquisition. It is a world that mirrors medieval France, filled with looming cathedrals, deep forests, ruined chateaux, and creeping supernatural threats that lurk just beneath the surface.

The party arrives in Averoigne through the Gate of the Silver Keys, stepping into the unfamiliar yet oddly familiar landscape of this parallel world. They emerge near the Inn of Bonne Jouissance, a safe haven where they can rest and gather information about the land. But safety is temporary. Their goal here is clear—they must retrieve four magical artifacts scattered across Averoigne in order to summon the Tomb of Stephen Amber, a shifting, otherworldly crypt that constantly moves through time and space. Only by summoning the tomb can they continue their quest to break the Amber family’s curse.

Each of the four magical items is tied to its own adventure, leading the party into conflicts with powerful figures, ancient evils, and moral dilemmas that will test them in ways Castle Amber never did.

The first artifact is the Enchanted Sword of Sylaire, hidden in the ruins of an enchanted land. To claim it, the party must strike a bargain with Sephora, an enchantress of immense power who rules over the remnants of Sylaire. Sephora offers them the sword—but only if they help her eliminate a werewolf, Malachie du Marias, who also happens to be a formidable sorcerer in his own right. This is no simple hunt. Malachie is a cunning predator, shifting between his human and wolf forms, using both spellcraft and brute force to stalk his prey. If the party succeeds, they gain not only Sephora’s favor but a weapon of immense power. The Enchanted Sword of Sylaire is a +3 blade, but against the undead, it becomes +5 and has a devastating ability—on a roll of 18 or higher, it instantly slays any undead creature it strikes. It also grants the wielder the ability to fly, making it a crucial tool for what lies ahead.

Next, the party must travel to Vyones, where they will find the second artifact, the Viper-Circled Mirror. But the city is in crisis. The necromancer Nathaire, a former resident of Vyones who was exiled for his dark practices, has returned—not in person, but in spirit. Using his forbidden magic, he has raised a 100-foot-tall undead colossus, a shambling horror made from the corpses of countless dead. The massive creature is marching toward Vyones, and the terrified citizens are powerless to stop it.

Here, the party meets Gaspard du Nord, a former pupil of Nathaire who turned away from the dark arts. Gaspard has a desperate plan—he knows the secret of a special powder that, if thrown into the colossus’s face, will unravel the necromantic forces holding it together. But getting close enough to use it is another matter entirely. The party must either take to the skies or use the cathedral rooftop to get high enough for a precise throw. If they succeed, the colossus collapses into a heap of lifeless bodies, and Nathaire’s soul is destroyed. As a reward, Gaspard hands over the Viper-Circled Mirror, along with a hefty sum of 10,000 gold pieces—unless the party was forced into the task, in which case they get the mirror, but no gold.

The third artifact is the Ring of Eibon, and its tale is the most terrifying of them all. A red comet has appeared in the sky over Périgon, and with it, a terrible predator has begun to stalk the land—the Beast of Averoigne. The creature kills indiscriminately, draining its victims and leaving only brittle, marrowless bones behind.

The party will meet Luc le Chaudronnier, a white magician who has been tracking the Beast. His hunt leads them to the Abbey of Périgon, where they witness something truly horrific. As the red light of the comet filters through the abbey’s tallest window, Abbot Théophile, a respected holy man, steps into its glow—and instantly transforms into the Beast. His human form melts away, revealing a serpentine monstrosity wreathed in shadow.

The battle against the Beast is brutal, and if the party does not stop it here, it will continue to slaughter the people of Averoigne. If they succeed, Théophile’s body reverts to its human form—dead, but finally free from the curse. As thanks, Luc hands over the Ring of Eibon, an artifact of immense power whose full abilities are left up to the DM’s imagination.

The final challenge is obtaining a Potion of Time Travel, an ingredient necessary to summon Stephen Amber’s tomb. Several individuals in Averoigne possess these rare potions, but the most likely source is Azedarc, the Bishop of Ximes—who also happens to be a powerful 14th-level magic-user with a secret life as a black magician.

Getting the potion from Azedarc is no simple task. The party can attempt to trade for it, but Azedarc’s price will not be cheap. If they try to expose him, they must be extremely careful—if they do so in public, he will use his influence to brand them as heretics, resulting in their immediate arrest. A direct fight against him in Ximes is suicidal; his network of guards and inquisitors would overwhelm them long before they ever reached him.

However, there is another option. If the party has encountered Moriamis, a sorceress with a long history of defying Azedarc, she may be willing to help them—if they assist her in bringing down the corrupt bishop once and for all.

Averoigne presents a completely different type of challenge compared to Castle Amber. Instead of battling animated furniture and cackling nobles, the party is thrust into a world of gothic horror, medieval politics, and moral dilemmas. There is no safety here, no whimsical games—only grim reality.

But if they can navigate these dangers, collect the four artifacts, and use them to summon the Tomb of Stephen Amber, then they will take the next step toward lifting the Amber family’s curse. Of course, summoning the tomb is only the beginning. What waits for them inside may be far worse than anything they faced in Castle Amber or Averoigne combined.

Part 8: The Tomb of Stephen Amber

This is it. The grand finale of Castle Amber, where everything the party has endured—from the surreal horrors of the mansion to the gothic nightmares of Averoigne—culminates in a final trial of mythic proportions.

If they’ve managed to gather all four of the required magical artifacts—the Enchanted Sword of Sylaire, the Viper-Circled Mirror, the Ring of Eibon, and a Potion of Time Travel—then they have a shot at summoning the Tomb of Stephen Amber. If not? Well, they’re stuck in Averoigne forever. The DM should do everything possible to ensure the players get their hands on these items, because this is the moment where their journey either reaches its climax or ends in tragic exile.

Summoning the Tomb is an event unto itself. The ritual is as strange and mystical as everything else in this adventure. The Ring of Eibon is placed onto the tail of the Viper-Circled Mirror, setting off an eerie transformation as the ring slides along the serpent’s coiled body until it settles around its head like a collar. The Enchanted Sword of Sylaire is then anointed with the Potion of Time Travel, and as soon as the glowing blade strikes the mirror, everything shatters—glass, magic, reality itself.

The party is ripped from Averoigne and hurled into an endless, featureless plain, stretching infinitely in all directions. And there, standing before them, is a colossal tomb, constructed of amber-colored marble, the name “Stephen Amber” carved above its entrance. This is it—the final stage of the adventure, where the party must overcome guardians, elemental trials, and the weight of destiny itself to finally break the curse.

The tomb is not unguarded. Before the party can even think about claiming their victory, they must deal with its protectors. First is a sleeping blue dragon, curled atop a mountain of silver coins and gleaming gems. Waking it is a mistake, but it’s the kind of mistake most adventurers will inevitably make. If disturbed, it unleashes deadly lightning breath and refuses to let the party progress.

Further in, the Second Guardian, a stone giant, stands like an immovable statue before the inner door, clutching a massive stalactite club. If words fail, as they likely will, the party must defeat him in brutal melee combat.

The Third Guardian is a manticore, lurking in a chamber filled with treasure. While not as mighty as the other guardians, it rains down deadly volleys of spikes and savagely defends its hoard.

The Fourth Guardian, and perhaps the most formidable of all, is a five-headed hydra, standing as the final test before reaching Stephen Amber’s crypt. Every time a head is severed, more grow in its place—unless the players remember how to properly kill a hydra.

As if these monstrous foes weren’t enough, the Elemental Chambers present their own trials of fire, air, earth, and water.

The Fire Chamber is a hallway engulfed in roaring flames, where the heat alone can cook an adventurer alive. A flame salamander waits in ambush, eager to drag victims into the inferno.

The Air Chamber presents an illusory abyss, a cloud pathway suspended over an infinite void. Step off the path? Gone. There’s a 99% chance of instant death, making it one of the most terrifying rooms in the adventure. Just when the players think they’re safe, a wyvern swoops in for the kill.

The Earth Chamber is a mud pit, where a mud golem lurks, waiting for someone foolish enough to wade into its trap.

The Water Chamber is a forty-foot-deep saltwater pool, where a great white shark is more than happy to remind the party that drowning isn’t the only thing they should be afraid of.

Survive all of that, and the party finally reaches Stephen Amber’s crypt. A mahogany casket rests on a raised dais, flanked by a silver candelabra and an iron brazier. The air is thick with perfumed smoke, and the walls are covered in an immense tapestry.

Inside the casket lies a skeleton wearing a golden crown, and carved into the inside of the lid is a simple instruction:

“Burn the tapestry to break my curse.”

This is the moment of truth. If the party hesitates, if they overthink things, if they get suspicious and start second-guessing—none of it matters. The only way forward is through fire.

When the tapestry burns, the curse shatters. From the smoke, Stephen Amber himself steps forward, dressed in regal velvet robes, stretching as though he’s woken from a long slumber. He looks at the party, nods, and simply says: “Thanks. I’ve been trapped in there for ages.”

And just like that, the tomb vanishes. The party is ripped back to their own world, standing where they first entered Castle Amber. The gray mist is gone, the unnatural twilight has lifted, and the familiar river they once followed is visible once more. Castle Amber itself begins to decay at an unnatural speed—its walls crumble, its tapestries rot, and its inhabitants—all those insane, magical Ambers—wither into mummified husks before collapsing into dust.

The Amber family is no more. The curse is broken.

But Stephen Amber doesn’t leave without rewarding his saviors. Despite being a 25th-level magic-user—a figure of immense power—he doesn’t lash out or impose any new trials. He is grateful.

Each surviving party member receives a priceless piece of antique jewelry, worth anywhere from 3,000 to 18,000 gold pieces, as well as a magical item tailored to their class—nothing cursed, just a genuine reward for surviving one of the most surreal, dangerous adventures in the D&D multiverse.

And for those who didn’t make it? Stephen has a Ring of 4 Wishes, and he’s willing to use it to resurrect up to four fallen characters. If more than four died, he chooses at random. If none died, well… no free wishes for the party.

Once the rewards are given, Stephen Amber vanishes in a dramatic display of arcane mastery, leaving nothing but silence in his wake.

And that’s it. The adventure is over. The party has escaped the Amber family’s madness, survived Averoigne, bested the horrors of the tomb, and lived to tell the tale.

Castle Amber is no more, but its memory—its trials, its nightmares, and its utter weirdness—will stay with the players forever.

Final Verdict – Is Castle Amber Still Worth Playing?

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

Absolutely, Castle Amber is still worth playing.!

In fact, I’d argue it’s one of the most essential classic D&D adventures if you love weird fantasy, Gothic horror, and dreamlike, unpredictable scenarios. Written by Tom Moldvay, it’s a masterclass in old-school strangeness, blending pulpy weird fiction with classic dungeon-crawling mayhem. It pulls heavily from Clark Ashton Smith’s Averoigne stories, infusing the adventure with a decadent, eerie atmosphere that feels more like wandering through a fever dream than exploring a traditional dungeon.

What makes Castle Amber stand out is how effortlessly it jumps between tones and styles. One moment, the players might be fending off a horde of animated statues with leering faces, and the next, they’re bare-knuckle boxing a magical construct while an Amber noble watches with delighted amusement. It’s an adventure where anything can happen, and that’s part of the joy—and the challenge—of running it. It doesn’t follow the strict logic of a traditional dungeon crawl. Instead, it thrives on its surreal, unpredictable energy.

The castle itself feels alive, filled with traps, tricks, eccentric NPCs, and bizarre magical effects that range from hilarious to horrifying. Then, just as the players start to get a handle on the madness, bam—they’re thrust into Averoigne, a completely different world filled with medieval intrigue, Inquisitors who burn witches at the stake, and a desperate hunt for four magical artifacts needed to summon the lost Tomb of Stephen Amber. It’s not just a haunted house dungeon; it’s a dimension-hopping adventure that constantly reinvents itself.

If you haven’t run Castle Amber before, you absolutely should. Whether you play it in its original B/X form, adapt it to OSE, or even convert it to Shadowdark, the adventure still holds up as one of the most wild, imaginative, and unforgettable experiences in tabletop gaming. I recommend it without hesitation!

But I want to know what you think! Drop a comment below and let me know what you think of Dungeon Module X2: Castle Amber. 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 X2: Castle Amber in print or PDF at DriveThruRPG!

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 this cursed mansion are filled with peril, you may never truly escape Castle Amber, but trust me, you’ll never forget it. And as always—may the dice roll ever in your favor.

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