A viewer recently asked if you can steal dungeon procedures and use them for a hex crawl. Simple answer is yes. And once you do, wilderness travel stops being that blurry. We walk for a while montage and starts producing real decisions.
Again, because dungeon procedure isn't about doors and corridors, it's about pressure, time passing, right? Risks showing up, resources draining, and the world reacting while the party debates what to do next. So here's the translation. In the dungeon, you've got turns. In the wilderness, you've got watches. That's it. That's the move. That's the swap. That's the switch. Pick a watch length that fits your table. If you want a gritty and granular, make it two hours. If you want. The classic pays for travel still matters, but doesn't eat up the whole session. Make it four hours if you want it loose and fast, go I guess a half day. I tend to stick to four hours because it gives you a rhythm without turning travel into homework. But what matters most is having a loop you can run without thinking.
Same way with dungeon turns, right? They run smooth once everyone knows the routine, so every watch you do the same handful of things first, get the party to commit to a direction and a pace. Where are you heading? Are you moving normal, cautious, or fast? And that second question matters more than than people think, because it's how you turn, turn, travel into choices instead of simple movement. And then keep the roles Simple. One person is navigating. One person is scouting. You don't need a job fair. You don't need to debate it. You don't need to stress the whole crap out. If nobody wants to do it. Fine. Then the wilderness gets its own vote.
Next, you pay the cost of the watch. See, the wilderness has a torch timer, too. But it doesn't look like torches. Don't look like torches at all. It's food and water. It's light. If you're traveling at night, fatigue if you're pushing it, wet gear, cold heat, whatever you actually care about in your game. And if your table has bookkeeping, don't get fancy. Make it blunt. Make it consistent. Mark it off and move on. The goal isn't realism. The goal is that time has teeth.
And after that, handle navigation. Do you actually stay on course? See, in a dungeon, the walls do a lot of work for you. Outdoors navigation is well, it's the wall when it matters. Bad weather, no landmarks, unfamiliar terrain, night travel, moving fast in pursuit or being pursued. Make the navigation, checking if they fail. You don't need to play. Gotcha. Just add. Just add friction, right? Maybe. Maybe they drift into the wrong hex. Maybe they burn an extra watch getting their bearings. Maybe they hit a feature that slows them down a bar, a cliff. Deadfall washed out trail. Getting lost should feel like the wilderness pushing back. Not like the referee. Not like the DM trying to get a win.
And then to your encounter. Check. One check per watch is usually enough. If it's a nasty region, a war zone, the cursed woods. I don't know. The dangerous swamps. Monster country sure bump up the, uh, the amount of checks.
But here's the big thing. Wilderness encounters don't always have to be surprised. Wolves. No, no, that's not a lot of the time. The parties should get signs first. Smoke on the horizon. Vultures circling. Fresh tracks down the trail. Dense. Disenchanting. I don't know why. I have trouble saying that. A broken arrow in a tree. A corn that wasn't there last time. You see, that's what makes the wilderness feel Alive. It gives the players a choice. We always want the players to have a choice, right? Engage, avoid detours, set an ambush or slow down and scout. See? That's the actual play.
Now, I suggest you give them one notable feature for the watch. Think of it like a dungeon room. Okay, not every room is a fight, but every room is still something. A hex crawl needs the same idea, just spaced out. So most watches should include at least one distinct thing. A creek crossing a ridge line with a view. An old road half swallowed by weeds. A ruined khan. A fork in the trail. Signs of people who shouldn't be here. Something of that sort. You don't need a paragraph. Okay, don't do that to yourself. You need one clear thing that makes this stretch of travel different from the last one.
If your hexes are keyed like you're using Rob Conley's excellent works, um, pull it from the key. If they aren't, use a quick table and keep moving and then advance time and do it again. Update time of day updates applies. Update fatigue update what has changed? Once your table gets the rhythm, this runs just like dungeon turns. It stops feeling like I don't know, wilderness rules and starts feeling like the game. The game of D&D.
Now let's talk about those three travel modes, because this is where the hex crawl stops being, well, that board game, Wilderness Survival. Yeah. No, we don't want to play that. Okay.
Normal travel is the baseline. You cover standard distance, you make standard noise. Make take standard risk.
Cautious travel means you're moving slower, but you're harder to surprise. You're less likely to wander off course. This is the choice for. We're in dangerous territory, and we don't want to blunder into something much more dangerous than we can deal with. Fast travel is the opposite. You cover more distance, but you're more likely to get lost, more likely to w
ear yourself down, and more likely to stumble into trouble before you see it coming. Generally speaking, you only use that in very safe areas.
So now the wilderness is doing what dungeons do, right? It forces a trade off between speed and safety. And here's where many people miss a trick. What can you do in a wash besides just moving? See, in the dungeon you can spend turns listening, right? Searching, mapping, spiking doors, poking the statue, whatever those actions cost time and time invites and counter checks. Same thing outdoors. A watch can be spent foraging or hunting. Scouting ahead. Searching a feature. Mapping carefully. Traveling stealthily. Hiding your trail. Setting an ambush. Building shelter early because the weather is turning. And the important part is this those choices cost time. Time triggers Checks. Checks create pressure. That's why it works. Sounds familiar right?
Camping works the same way. Don't treat camping as a free reset when nothing can touch them. Treat it like we bar the door in a dungeon, ask, are you camping safe, hidden or exposed? Who's on watch? What's the watchword? Is the fire visible? And then make a night and count the check. And again, you don't need it to be an instant attack. Every time signs are your friend, a guard hears something in a brush, sees torchlight far off, finds fresh tracks around camp in the morning. Now camping feels like a choice. It's not just a hey, he'll reset.
Now let me give you a quick example so you can hear how this sounds at the table. The party is moving north through dense forest trying to reach a ruin. All right, next watch. What's the direction? North. Your pace. Normal. All right, Mark off food. Make a navigation check its day. They've got landmarks. They stay on course and count the check. Oh, okay. Yes, but it's not an ambush. They find fresh bootprints crossing the trail. Too organized to be hunters. What's the feature? To hit a creek. There's a rope bridge. Old and frayed. And now you've got decisions. Follow the tracks or avoid them. Cross here or look for a Ford. Spend the watch scouting the far bank. Push on and risk whatever comes next. That's dungeon. Making decisions just happening in the outdoors.
See, most hex crawls fall apart because travel becomes a loading screen. And for those that are my age, you remember how long those loading screens were on your computer? RPGs. You travel, you travel, you travel. Okay. You arrive. Oh my God. I'm thinking of EverQuest and getting on the boat in any case.
If you want wilderness to matter, you need a time unit, a risk role, navigation, consequences, resource pressure, and one distinct feature per chunk of travel. Same pressure system as the dungeon, just scaled up to hexes. So here's the quick takeaway. Pick a watch length, run the loop and don't handwave the boring parts. As tempting as it may be, because those boring parts are where the meaningful choices lie. Try it for one session and watch how fast your players start moving with purpose. Now, if you want, I can do a follow up.
And if I do the follow up, I'll try to get a printable watch card and a the wilderness encounter table that's heavy on signs, omens, NPCs, weather the hazards. You know, the normal stuff that isn't just monsters and creatures, but stuff that makes a region feel like it has a pulse. Let me know in the comments. Also, let me know in the comments if you have topics you want me to cover. I'm trying to go through the videos to find out what people want me to cover. And yes, I am working on the one sheets. It's a bit time consuming when you're trying to dig your car out of about, I don't know, three, three and a half feet of, uh, snow plow ice that has packed it in. But for now. For now, uh, watch his navigation encounters features and repeat. That's how you make a hex crawl feel like an Aussie game instead of fast-forwarding to the next dungeon. Thank you for watching. God bless. I'll catch you tomorrow.
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