Some locations—the wizard’s tower, the sunken temple, or the haunted house—have a well-trod presence in stories and adventures. In this series, we’ll explore the potential of these archetypal wizard’s tower, playing with or defying tropes, and presenting rules and ideas to bring them to life.

Wizard towers are an iconic staple of fantasy adventures. Narratively, such towers (and their wizards) often fulfill one of two purposes: They herald the call to adventure from a wizened mentor, or signal the end, a capstone battle symbolizing the perils of power. As a narrative archetype, it looms large, but that can be a problem. Too much of it crosses the boundary from “trope” to “cliche”. How do we take that and make it feel magical again?  

Let’s focus on two things: The wizard and the tower. The wizard defines their tower, and the tower should likewise mirror its wizard. Before taking an inventory of the tower’s wards and arcane experiments, take a personality inventory first. Every decision about the tower or the wizard affects the other. By mindfully choosing the traits of each and considering their impact, we can think outside the tower (and the pointy hat) to tread new ground.

First Layer: The Tower

The Expectation: It’s tall, round, usually stone, and sometimes crooked. It can be rustic and quirky or dark and ominous, depending on if this is a Good Wizard or a Bad Wizard.

The tower should reflect the personality of the wizard and set the stage for what it narratively represents. Usually, this means a sense of mystery, aloofness, and the threshold of the extraordinary.

To accomplish this, play with the architecture and form of the tower to hint at the mind behind it. Consider what the following suggestions imply about the wizard you’d find there:

• A tower of magical glass where illusory phantasms play across the surface.

• A “tower” in the depths of the wood carved and shaped into a great tree.

• A squat, round building that nonetheless towers above the landscape, moving about on spindly magical legs.

• A seemingly humble tower which opens into an extradimensional, bigger-on-the-inside space.

• Allow the wizard’s heritage or environment to inform the tower’s shape. What might reside in, say, a ziggurat, a lighthouse, a pyramid, a belfry, or a guard tower?

Second Layer: Odd Critters and Odds and Ends

The Expectation: We expect a wizard’s tower to house odd objects and stranger creatures. It’s a great place for arcane experiments gone wrong and enchanted stuff of questionable provenance.

Draw from the talents and interests of the wizard (and the unintended side effects of those interests) when populating the tower with items and creatures. Consider:

• Instead of shambling minions, this necromancer has ghosts bound to historical relics to provide research context.

• A callous wizard specializing in enchantment might have a population of charmed “guests.”

• A retired battle mage has a tower resembling an armory more than a learned sanctum, lined with masterwork weapons and armor (including some animated varieties).

• The glamorous illusions the wizard uses to populate the tower look real but are harmless. The curious Fey creatures they attract are not.

• A local wizard got tired of being called out to defend the village against every bandit and goblin incursion. As such, there are a surprising number of enchanted sickles, pitchforks, garden hoes, and protective aprons stockpiled in the tower.

Third Layer: Traps and Riddles

The Expectation: The necessary evil of aggravating riddles to answer in order to progress, and a multitude of (sometimes explosive) magical traps.

Defenses are a great place to show some personality, whether through brutality, a determination not to be disturbed, or a desire to test the mettle of visitors. Consider:

• Riddles that are more like hints for passwords, requiring some investigation to figure out. For example, “the name of my familiar . . . but vowelless.”

• (Mostly) harmless traps, including the multipurpose guards and wards, or more specialized kinds; symbols of sleep at every threshold allow the wizard to deal with slumbering intruders at their leisure, while decoy spellbooks covered in illusory script encourage would-be spell thieves to grab and go.

• A wizard more concerned with amusement than security sets up a series of riddles revolving around puns and wordplay.

• To invert, give the tower excellent navigation, including written instructions and helpful signs. (It helps prevent guests from opening the door to one of the less-fun fiendish planes instead of the linen cupboard.)

• Alternatively, skip the elaborate traps entirely, for the wizard who doesn’t have time for all that. Instead, they have the whole place on lockdown through paranoid overuse of arcane lock and a sensible, secure method of storing high-value items.

Top Layer: The Grumpy Wizard

The Expectation: Robe, beard, pointy hat, and a bad attitude (even if he’s on your side): Check. Antagonists can opt for evil good looks, a pointy crown, and an edgy color scheme instead.

They can’t (and shouldn’t) all be a Merlin or a Morgan Le Fey. Take apart all the usual expectations, including good-vs-evil, the role of “wizard”, and whether or not they’re actually “grumpy”. With each decision, consider how it would impact the presentation of the tower and what’s in it, and vice versa. Consider:

• The wizard’s not a villain, but she went to a lot of trouble for this important, powerful relic the party needs for their quest, and she’s not so sure they can protect it. If they can’t even get through a few minor hazards of her tower, then she’s probably right.

• The wizard has nefarious goals, but needs the party to accomplish them. Like Jafar did for Aladdin, he’s the reason the group’s adventuring career begins (and might be the final villain at the end, too).

• This wizard is grumpy because he was a young magical prodigy who has had it with less talented people. If someone can’t pass his difficult riddles, he doesn’t want to talk to them.

• A wizard isn’t grumpy; she’s tired, what with being a middle-aged auntie plagued by unexpected familial visits. Her tower is filled with disorienting and discouraging traps aimed at gently taking guests back outside.

• Maybe there isn’t a wizard at all, but a druid containing herbology experiments run amok.

Regardless of actual lineage or class, the narrative role of the “wizard” is a being of power, one who is supposed to be wiser. The “tower” represents the threshold. The ordinary world is left at the door, and it’s time to enter the wizard’s realm. Whether the heroes stand to benefit from the wisdom therein or bear witness to a fall into power-mad folly is left as consequence of their own actions.

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