G is for Gygaxian

[over the course of the month of April, I shall be posting a topic for each letter of the alphabet, sequentially, every day of the week except Sunday. Our topic for the month is Advanced Dungeons & Dragons: how to approach it, how to run it, how to enjoy a system that deserves to be played NOW, nearly 50 years after its inception. Consider this a 'crash course' in the subject]

G is for Gygaxian...a particular style of setting design often described as "Gygaxian Naturalism," this latter term first coined by James Maliszewski in 2008.

[James also wrote a follow-up post entitled Gygaxian UNnaturalism that's also worth reading as part of the same discussion]

While each Dungeon Master's campaign is their own to design, there are certain assumptions of the setting that are baked into AD&D play. Maliszewski's discussion stems from the style proliferated in Gygax's later works (his published adventure modules, his World of Greyhawk, and his AD&D books) which were a far cry from the open-ended, Gonzo-possibility that proves so seductively enticing to aficionados of the OD&D (original) edition of Dungeons & Dragons.  These setting assumptions "color" the AD&D game, which for those who dislike "limits on their imagination," can feel both constricting and off-putting.

We'll get to that in a moment.

LOTs of setting assumptions are baked into the "setting-less" AD&D system. For example, there are assumptions of an inter-species, interactive society. There is an assumption of cosmic forces of good and evil. These cosmic forces have actual physical impact on mere (human) mortals...doing "evil" loses a paladin or ranger their professional skills and abilities, for example.  Certain creatures (undead) are subject to the divine powers of clerics (both good and evil). Gold is the coin of the realm and is coveted by ALL intelligent creatures...not just as evidenced by the random treasure hoards in monster lairs, but in the fact that intelligent monsters can be distracted from pursuit by dropping treasure (unlike unintelligent animals, who are onlydistracted by dropping food).

Gygax's adventures exhibit a fantasy ecosystem, in which some monsters prey on other monsters, while other creatures (humanoids especially) exhibit societies, doing construction work both above and below ground, having caravans (often with slaves taken in war/raids), and being ruled by hierarchies of kings, chieftains, sub-chiefs, and lesser lieutenants. It is very much a "human-centric" world view...not only because humans are the focus protagonists, but because every society and custom observed is given in terms of comprehensible human norms. Nothing here is very "alien" in the Gygaxian milieu, even if the fantasy creatures themselves are VERY alien.

Take the mind flayer for example.  Nothing could be more alien than a brain-sucking, tentacle-faced, mind-monster. And yet they have cities. They wear clothes. They keep treasure. They flee when things go against them. They keep slaves. They fight wars with other species (the githyanki). They trade, bargain, make alliances (see the D1-D3 series of modules). In some ways it is very much "rubber mask" fantasy of the Star Trek or Star Wars variety. Creatures seek slaves, treasure, interbreed with humans, have all the normal human range of social behaviors from hatred to great friendship...even creatures that are so long-lived (elves) that their perception of time itself should lead to a completely different method of relating to the concept.

This human-centric, fantasy "naturalism" is important to AD&D play for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that it provides a modicum of verisimilitude. Once upon a time I read that part of the impetus for the Hickman's "story first" approach to adventure design came with their frustration out of plyaing D&D in a dungeon that featured random disparate monsters being discovered, side-by-side, in adjoining rooms for no rhyme or reason...something like a a bunch of goblins, a slime/ooze, and a vampire. Such random design is nothing like the type of ecology Gygax describes in the DMG under Monster Populations and Placement (pages 90-91); clearly the Hickmans were "gifted" with an inferior Dungeon Master. 

Lack of verisimilitude, like "gonzo" settings devoid of consistency or sensibility, can quickly derail player engagement. The less players can trust the setting to abide by any particular, understandable rules, the less the players can trust the Dungeon Master running the game. Why is that? Because, in a game that invests one player (the DM) with all the power of the (imaginary) universe, the players has to trust and believe that the DM will be fair and impartial, abiding by the same rules that govern the players. When the world seems unreasonably odd, strange, or "whackadoo," how can the players trust the DM to NOT be whimsical and arbitrary in their adjudication?

Having a sensible ecology...even a fantastical one...sets parameters and limits; yes, limits that some DMs of a more imaginative bent might find chafing. But for the players, these limits serve as boundaries and guideposts...they indicate the territory in which they (and the DM) can operate. This provides the players with tremendous freedom, as they know that which is not prohibited is allowable. It is a safety net of sorts...one that prevents the DM (who, again it must be emphasized, is all powerful in the game) from over-stepping their prerogatives. Certainly (at least) it can reign in their more power-mad proclivities.

But that is just the verisimilitude aspect of the Gygaxian setting style. The "human-centric" nature of the Gygax's "naturalism," ensures that the game, no matter how fantastical it seems, is still readily accessible by the players at the table.  Yes, mind flayers are completely, horrifically, alien...and, yet, even the most inexperienced player can grasp their (all too human) motivations, understand how to bargain with them (if such becomes possible...or a necessity), and grasp that they might have valuable stashed around that can be taken (if the opportunity presents itself) or be used in trade/negotiation. Dragons, too, are more than just fire-breathing reptiles; bugbears are more than sasquatches...they are peoples, peoples with ambitions and desires, fears and motives.  Not necessarily stories, mind you...the vast majority of NPCs (monstrous or not) in the AD&D game require zero backstory or background. But they have ecology...we know they have to do something to eat. We know they had some type of parent that birthed/hatched them, and may well be seeking to raise a brood of their own. That is naturalism...even if it is fantastical "Gygaxian" naturalism.

AD&D abounds with this...just read through the Monster Manual(s).  Perytons need human hearts to reproduce. Griffons and bulettes natural prey are horses (although the latter find halflings a special treat and dig them from their burrows every chance they get). Dwarves and goblins have longstanding feuds, as do elves and orcs and gnomes and kobolds. Dragons can be subdued instead of slain. Hill giants keep cave bears for pets like a human keeps dogs. Otyughs eat waste from other monsters in the dungeon.  Mimics are the venus flytraps of the underground.  There is ecological setting considerations scattered throughout the AD&D game.

Verisimilitude. Accessibility. Both in aid of having active player engagement, rather than alienation. It wasn't just Gygax's penchant for a particular 'brand' of fantasy that led these things to be a part of the AD&D game. Whether or not he thought about it at the time he was writing, they ended up in the books that form the instructional text of the game...and as a result, an AD&D campaign, run well, is exceptionally good at holding the attention of its participants. Players and DMs alike.

D is for Dungeon

[over the course of the month of April, I shall be posting a topic for each letter of the alphabet, sequentially, every day of the week except Sunday. Our topic for the month is Advanced Dungeons & Dragons: how to approach it, how to run it, how to enjoy a system that deserves to be played NOW, nearly 50 years after its inception. Consider this a 'crash course' in the subject]

D is for Dungeon...specifically dungeon design.

The "dungeon" is (as one might expect) a rather important concept in a game called Dungeons & Dragons. Gygax's glossary in the DMG provides us with the following definition:

Dungeon -- A generic term for any castle, location, or ruin that serves as the site of an underground adventure.

Okay, straightforward enough. Or is it? 

The thing is this whole idea...this whole concept, the premise on which the game is built...is about as clear as mud. We are told in the PHB that "individual adventuring usually takes place in an underworld dungeon setting" until 

"play gradually expands to encompass other such dungeons, town and city activities, wilderness explorations, and journeys into other dimensions, planes, times, worlds, and so forth."

However, when it comes to the three types of adventures described in the PHB (p.101) between dungeons, wilderness, and city and town adventures

"Adventures into the underworld mazes are the most popular."

The reason the word dungeon is central in the game's title is because exploring dungeons is the most elementary part of game play. It is the reason the players are here...the reason they're willing to work together, cooperatively, towards a common objective. The dungeon...an underworld death trap filled with dangerous monsters and monstrous dangers while tempting players with the promise of fame and fortune...is the draw. When we say, D&D is a game of adventure, the DUNGEON is the location where that adventure takes place. For the most part (we'll get to the caveats in a bit).

Which is why it's so unfortunate that the AD&D books provide ALMOST ZERO INFORMATION ON HOW TO BUILD OR DESIGN A DUNGEON.

Unfortunate, I say, but true. A gross oversight on the part of the author, and one I didn't even realize till a few years ago, when I was writing a series of posts comparing the DMGs of various editions. None of them are "good" when it comes to this topic...in fact, "terrible" would be a more apt description. But it took me years to notice this lack of information because I learned the basics of how to design dungeons decades before...from Tom Moldvay.

Moldvay's Basic Dungeons & Dragons Rulebook (published in 1981...two years after the DMG) gives a pretty similar definition of the word "dungeon:" a place underground and often among ruins, where characters adventure. However, unlike Gygax's DMG, Moldvay outlines a step-by-step process for designing an adventure...in two pages, no less! His system, while simple, provides the foundational building blocks of design:

Step 1: Choose A Scenario. Moldvay calls this the "background theme or idea which ties the dungeon together," and notes that a "good scenario always gives the players a reason for adventuring." 

Step 2: Decide On A Setting. This is the actual location where the scenario takes place, the "dungeon" in question. Examples of adventure sites include castles, caverns, crypts, temples, mines, stronghold, towns, and towers...most any fixed location can serve as an adventure site, i.e. a "dungeon." But regardless, they all have in common the following elements:

- removed from "normal" (game) civilization

- stocked with danger

- contain the promise of reward

Step 3: Decide On Special Monsters. The D&D game, in all its editions, thrives on conflict, and requires adversaries for the players to struggle against. The scenario and setting suggests monstrous opponents that players can expect to encounter while exploring the dungeon.

Step 4: Draw The Dungeon Map. The first practical step (everything up till now has been thought exercise and/or brainstorming). You draw a map of the area the players intend to explore. For me, this is the most difficult part of dungeon design, as I tend to be a bit hard on myself. I often pull blueprints of actual buildings and cave complexes to use as templates, but I also steal maps from old adventures and re-work/re-purpose them. 

Good maps have sensible layouts, often with multiple means of ingress and exit, multiple levels (both up and down) with more than one way to access each, and enough asymmetry of design to be interesting. Maps for less experienced (generally lower level) players should be easier to map than those you design for experienced veterans, because players tend to want to make sketches during play to aid in their explorations. Making a nightmare labyrinth of non-Euclidean angles and shifting walls is going to be hard on players with fewer resources...and "actual play experience" is one of those resources.

In addition to being clear and legible enough for YOU, the DM, to read, it should have a number of encounter areas...rooms, chambers, special points on the map...that you should meticulously label with a numerical key. I strongly advise using simple numbering for these encounters, not an alphabetical key or (Lord no) Roman numerals.

Step 5: Stock The Dungeon. Now that you have the map for your dungeon (based on your scenario and setting you've chosen for that scenario), you key the dungeon with your notes of what will be found at each and every encounter area. This is the "meat" of dungeon design...the map is just the skeleton, and without the guts and muscle and sinew, it's not yet an adventure proper.

Moldvay identifies four forms of "contents" for encounter areas, and I find these useful categories for design. ALSO, while I don't determine contents of encounter areas randomly (as Moldvay suggests), I do place them in the same proportions given by his random chart:

• Monster (1-in-3 encounter areas): these are NPCs that are likely to be antagonistic towards exploring adventurers and who are combat-worthy and inclined to fight if provoked.
• Trap (1-in-6 encounter areas): these are obstacles and hazards designed to damage, delay, confuse, or inconvenience players.
• "Special" (1-in-6 encounter areas): these are anything not a "trap" or straightforward "monster." It could be a special (modified or non-book) monster, a magical effect of some kind (healing pools, teleportation gates, magic mouths, etc.) non-hostile NPCs (hostages that might be rescued or hired to join the group), riddles and tricks, etc.
• Empty (1-in-3 encounter areas): an encounter area devoid of Monsters, Traps, and Specials. It does not mean a literally "empty" chamber; it can still invite interaction (players may search it for traps, secret doors, etc.), and still take real game time from players determined to give it a thorough going over. But these areas are necessary places of respite from the stresses and danger of the dungeon, and I don't recommend going without.

It should be understood that these proportions are guidelines, not hard/fast rules. That being said, I always try to hew close to these proportions as they give a nice rhythm of play in practice. Since you'll only get perfect proportionality in dungeon designs that feature encounter areas in multiples of six, some rounding often occurs. For me, I tend to round the number of "empty" and "trap" areas DOWN while rounding "monster" and "special" encounter areas UP.

For example: given a 20 encounter area, I'd go with seven monsters, four specials, three traps, and six empties.

Treasure, of course, is equally important to stocking as danger, and as with types of encounter areas Moldvay's suggestions for treasure proportions aren't terrible (1-in-2 for monster encounters, 1-in-3 for trap encounters, 1-in-6 for empty encounters). Along with the proportion of encounter types, this indicates that slightly fewer than one-third of all encounter areas will have SOME sort of treasure present. For me, I prefer a slightly higher presence of treasure...something closer to 40+%, but this varies based on scenario and setting.

[please keep in mind that "treasure" takes many forms. If prisoners can be rescued for a reward, they are treasure. If the local magistrate has put a bounty on bugbear scalps, then bugbears become treasure. Etc. We are not just talking bags of gold and silver]

For AD&D, a game of adventure (in which players brave danger in pursuit of reward), treasure is the primary motivator, the "spur" that drives players to action. A steady drip-drip of treasure with the occasional discovery of a large cache, is the primary formula that keeps players on the move and willing to engage and struggle with the challenges of the dungeon environment.

At this point, we are done with Moldvay, and can speak to the concept of scale.

Each dungeon should be designed for a particular level of party; this is what I refer to as its "scale." Actually, it may be more precise to say a particular experience point total of individual player character. Often, you'll see an adventure designated as being for a specific level range...an adventure for levels 4th-6th, for example. They might as well say "for characters of roughly 22,000 x.p." which would yield PCs in the given level range (paladins and multi-class PCs being at the low end, druids and thieves at the high). Everything in the dungeon is scaled off this level range: the types of monsters used, the deadliness of traps present, and...most certainly...the amount of treasure to be found.

Scale is important. Reward should be commensurate with the degree of challenge faced by the players: too much treasure for too little challenge is too easy and leads to boredom and disenchantment, while too little treasure for too much challenge leads to frustration and resentment; both are undesirable. Your campaign will have adventure sites (i.e. "dungeons") scaled to various levels...some low-level, some high...but you must strive to be consistent with your scales. It is fine for high level adventurers to take on a low-level dungeon, wiping it out 'on a lark.' But they should find the takings therein to be of dubious value and not worth the energy expended. Likewise, it is just dandy to have high level "killer" dungeons in your game that players should (rightly) shun until they feel strong enough to tackle them...they provide incentives for their ambition with the promise of rich reward.

In practice, I've found that a 30 encounter adventure should yield (in total) treasure sufficient to advance PCs of the designated number and experience range one level. For determination of gold piece value needed, I always use the fighter advancement table.

For example: a 30 encounter dungeon scaled for 5 characters of levels 5th-7th should yield a total treasure of roughly 175,000 gold pieces in value. With regard to magic items, I look at their gold piece (i.e. sale) value for this calculation.

Dungeon of fewer or more encounter levels get proportionally less or more treasure. For example, one with 15 encounters would have only HALF the treasure (in gold piece value) needed to advance the party one level. Dungeons with 60 encounters would give players enough x.p. (in gold) to achieve TWO levels...which is probably not the same as just doubling the treasure amount. If that dungeon for five PCs of level 5th-7th had 60 encounters, it would need 450,000 g.p. because the amount of x.p. needed to get one fighter from 6th level to 8th is 90K, not 60K. 

Why do I scale based on 30 encounter areas? Time...real world, actual time. It takes time for players to play the game...to explore dungeons, to participate in combats. In practice, I find a rate of three to five encounters per solid hour of play to be average, with about 12 encounters being the practical (max) upper limit for a four hour play session (9-11 being more usual). Smaller groups of players can be more agile in their decision making, but larger groups of players have more resources to throw at encounters...speed at which players get through a dungeon is tied largely to experience (with the game) and group dynamics (leadership, organization). Also, DMs should understand that the longer a session goes on, the more resources are expended by the players, the fewer resources they have at their disposal, and the slower and more cautious they become.

So 30 encounter areas can take three to five game sessions to fully explore (depending on the quality of your players and the length of your game sessions). This could be a month or more of play depending on how often you run games (we'll talk scheduling in a later installment). And a couple more things to keep in mind:

1. It is rare for player to recover every last scrap of treasure from a dungeon. More than just "missing" things, players will tend to abandon a dungeon for greener pastures at some point...mainly because it feels "picked over" with too much challenge for too little reward remaining. And that's okay! We want players to have agency and letting them walk is a part of the AD&D game.
2. We (Dungeon Masters) want players to advance in level. It is an imperative for our game. Leveling up allows designers to expand the scope of what we do, breaking out bigger challenges, more ferocious monsters, more extravagant treasures. Allowing the PCs to level expands what we, DMs, can do with the game.

As far as scaling challenges/danger to players, this is as much an art form (refined in practice) as the distribution of treasure. With regard to traps and hazards, are you considering the player characters' ability to circumvent these things? It's not really appropriate to include half a dozen poison encounters when the party cleric is under 7th level (and thus has no access to neutralize poison). Stone to flesh is a spell only available to magic-users of 12th level so petrifaction becomes, effectively, a death sentence for mid-level parties...these are things to consider. Consider also potential hit points of PCs when assigning damage for traps: A 50' pit drop may not kill a 6th level fighter, but it can deplete hit points enough that another fight or two will finish the poor brute; damage accumulates over time, after all.

With regard to monsters and their placement, these will largely be determined by the scenario and setting you chose at the beginning. If the adventure involves invading a stone giant stronghold, the opponents will probably be stone giants (duh) and their pets and allies. This by itself should suggest the proper scale of the dungeon you're designing. It might sound cool to have the players sneak into the fortress of a lich or demon lord, but they're not going to be doing that before they hit double-digits in terms of level!

If you review the Dungeon Random Monster Level Determination Matrix on page 174 of the DMG, you'll see that every dungeon level has a particular range of "monster levels" (designated as 1-10, or I-X). When considering the scale of a dungeon, I use "equivalent level of the dungeon" the same as the average PC level of the adventure I'm designing. Thus, an adventure for 7th level PCs would see the bulk of their monster encounters come from charts IV-VI, with only few encounters being outside this range (and with reduced or increased numbers, depending on whether or not you're talking greater or lesser charts). Treasure types of monsters (given in the Monster Manual) can be key indicators for treasure distribution (both placement and amounts), and can serve as 'red flags' to the beginning dungeon designer.

[if I find myself creating a "slime themed" dungeon with all the monsters being puddings, jellies, and oozes, I'm going to have a pretty hard time justifying much in the way of treasure placement, for example]

These are the nuts-and-bolts of dungeon design, the elementary building block that is the foundation of the Dungeons & Dragons game. There are, of course, other types of adventure, but exploration of dangerous sites in pursuit of treasure is the MAIN form that game play takes in AD&D. Even the old Dragonlance modules, heavily railroaded story acs that they were, made sure to include at least one dungeon in each of their 14 published adventures. If you don't like exploring dungeon, well, there are a LOT of other RPGs on the market that are not called Dungeons & Dragons. 

We'll get into other types of adventures in a later post.

Good Bones

In the past, I've watched a lot of "house flipping" and "remodeling" shows on television. My wife digs this kind of programming (she finds it relaxing) and I find it...well, interesting enough. I am rather the opposite of a "handyman" type. But I don't mind spending a lazy weekend afternoon, sitting on the couch and drinking coffee.

[we rarely have the time to "veg" that much these days, considering all the weekend kid events...but I did start this post with the phrase 'In the past...']

Anyhoo, I myself have done very little "remodeling" in my life...I've certainly never "flipped" a property. But as I said, I've watched these shows and there's this phrase that I sometimes here come up about a house...that it has "good bones." Which, I assume, means it has a good foundational structure on which to build or hang new drywall or, well, whatever. I don't know...I said I wasn't "handy" like that.

What I AM somewhat handy with is adventure writing/design (well, I think I am anyway...). The last couple-four days I've been working on my rewrite of I4: Oasis of the White Palm. Oh, man, it's really good. Not to toot my own horn, but I'm kind of in love with what I'm writing...this looks like it's going to be really fun to run. I'm digging it. 

But I want to give some credit to Philip Meyers and Tracy Hickman, the original writers. Because the thing has good bones...there IS a strong foundation here, mainly in the maps and some of the overall 'Big Concepts." Not the story, mind you...the story is terrible and I've discarded it completely. But many of the situations and factions are quite workable. Well, re-workable. Er...I mean, they're stuff that I can work with and pound something good and decent out of. If that makes sense. Which, maybe it doesn't. But I mean it as a compliment...if a back-handed one.

I'm currently working backwards through the thing because dungeons are more fun (and, in many ways, easier) to stock than other areas. Eh, what am I saying. It's all pretty easy to stock. But the dungeons are definitely more fun. Because they have more obvious threats (and bigger treasures...I like treasure). So I did the Crypt of Badr al-Mosak first (even though it's Part III of three) and then, today, I finished up the Temple of Set (Part II). Yes, these have all been renamed. No, there are no "EverFall Pits" with flying mummies, nor any kidnapped princess-brides...you want that, you can buy the original as a $5 PDF and run it. This is going to be clever, okay? Without the silly puns and with a modicum of sense and sensibility.

I mean...*sigh*  So, NOW, I was just about to sit down to start in on Part I (the Oasis itself), and...as is my wont...I started diving into my analysis of just what is here. What IS this town? I already know a lot of what MY town is going to be, but I want to look at the BONES of the place, the underlying structure. Because the structure is functional...I've run I4 before, back in the day, pretty much exactly as written and I don't remember any hiccups or problems. So let's see what we've got...first up, the Oasis random  encounters, lifeblood of a dynamic environment (or, at least, that which provides verisimilitude of a living-breathing town). What have we got?

Women carrying water. Women carrying clothing. A trader "with beads." Traders with palm dates. Traders with camels. Home Guard. A drunk. 1-4 Male Drow. A noble. A slave on an errand. A....

Wait, what? 1-4 male Drow?! In the desert? Who cares if it's at night...how the hell did they get there? What the heck are they doing? They're not even one of the "special" encounters...just a normal evening encounter around the village.

*sigh* This is why O Great & Glorious Hickmans...this is why I rewrite your adventures. Crap like this. There's a lot of whimsical stuff here that doesn't really fly in my view of an AD&D adventure, but I can stomach a certain amount of whimsy (even if...sorry...I'm writing the pegasus squadron OUT of the adventure). But there's "whimsy," and then there's nonsense. A thriving oasis town filled with fantasy-Islamic/Bedouins is not a place where Drow are just "walking around."

Many, many problems here.

Ah, well. The first two bits have turned out great; no reason to think the town part can't be spruced up. I've even added a couple new NPC personalities to the mix, which is also good fun. One nifty thing about my version: the writing's quite a bit tighter (which is to say, I don't pad it out as much as the original). Consequently, I've already trimmed about four pages from the text. That is GREAT; I really want to keep this thing to 32 pages (max), but I want to add more actionable, game-able content, not just:

D. Hills

Craggy, low hills of broken and baked stone jut upwards at weird andles and cast tortured shadows.

Play: Movement rate is half normal in such areas for all persons except dwarves. There is a 60% chance per hor spent searching of finding a cave shelter large enough for the party.

Or this:

E. Bleached Bones

The trail suddenly broadens amid the dunes. The clean, white bones of camels stand in a roughly 100-foot circle.

Play: There is a 30% chance that a party member will discover that the bones have only recently been picked clean. All worthwhile objects have been taken from the area. A set of three sled tracks leads east to location F.

Or this:

L1-L4. Ruins

Jutting jaggedly from the midst of the desert are ancient broken pieces of hand-hewn stone.

[no other info given, just the boxed text description]

This is what I like to call "tourist crap." It's not nonsensical, but it serves little or no purpose. Regardless of whether or not the players figure out that the bones "have only recently been picked clean," so what? It makes no difference to the adventure. Even if there ARE dwarves in the party, they still can't move any faster than the other, non-dwarf members. This is just extraneous detail for a "tour guide DM" to dole out, presumably to "break up the monotony." Hey, try to roll under 30% on percentile dice? Yeah, you made it? You can see these bones were only RECENTLY picked clean...dun-dun-DUN!

Far easier to simply:

• Calculate the distance between point A and B
• Calculate the time needed to travel there.
• Roll for random encounters based on the time traveled

...and just get to the play at the important bit (wherever that final destination is). 

It's not that we need to 'get to a place where we roll dice,' but it IS about getting to a decision point where the players can make a meaningful decision. Looking at the wilderness map of I4 (which I will be redrawing to match my southern Idaho desert), I can see there's no reason the players would ever have to go to area #D ("Hills")...no road leads there, no plot requirements mandate them passing through the area, nothing. It is just USELESS FILLER.

My adventure doesn't have useless filler.

Anyway, I'm enjoying myself and my little project. Ugly as the original house is, I think my "remodel" will look quite swell. Despite my complaints the thing does have "good bones;" that makes a difference.

Later, gators.

[also, just for fun: this came to mind when I wrote "tour guide DM;" it's kind of catchy!]

ASC Review: Arena AEmilia

Arena AEmilia (Zed)

B/X for PCs of 4th-6th level

Mm. I was wondering if I'd see one of these.

For my review criteria, you may check out this post. All reviews will (probably) contain *SPOILERS*; you have been warned! Because these are short (three page) adventures, it is my intention to keep the reviews short.

Well, now. It seems I must explain what an "adventure" is. 

Strictly speaking, adventuring is the activity that players engage in when they play D&D; Moldvay's (B/X) glossary defines an adventure as "any session where a DM and players meet to play a D&D game." However, the textual description is a bit more specific:

Each game session is called an adventure. An adventure lasts for as long as the players and the DM agree to play. An adventure begins when the party enters a dungeon, and ends when the party has left the dungeon and divided up treasure. An adventure may run for only an hour, or it might fill an entire weekend! The amount of playing time depends on the desires of the players and the DM. Several related adventures (one adventure leading to another, often with the same player characters) is called a campaign.

In the (later) Expert set, the scope of where an adventure takes place is broadened to include the wilderness, defined as all the area outside of the dungeon. And yet, the dungeon is ever the focus of the Dungeons & Dragons game.

A "dungeon" is defined by Moldvay as "a place, underground and often among ruins, where characters adventure." Again the textual description is more broad than that:

It is the DM's job to prepare the setting for each adventure before the game begins. This setting is called a dungeon since most adventures take place in underground caverns or stone rooms beneath old ruins or castles.

Note that Moldvay states MOST adventures take place underground...not all. In the Dungeon Master Information section of the Basic D&D rules, Moldvay provides a "step-by-step guide to creating a dungeon." The second step, DECIDE ON A SETTING, makes clear that not all settings need be underground, as his list of "common settings" include castles, towers, ancient temples, strongholds, and towns. Not every "dungeon" need be a ruin, cavern, or tomb.

However, the setting (where the adventure takes place) is, as stated, the second ("B.") step of creating a dungeon, i.e. creating the place where adventuring will take place during the game. The FIRST ("A.") step is the choosing of a scenario:

A. CHOOSE A SCENARIO

A scenario is a background theme or idea which ties the dungeon together. A scenario will help keep a dungeon from becoming a boring repetition of "open the door, kill the monster, take the treasure." A good scenario always gives the players a reason for adventuring. The DM should also design a dungeon for the levels of characters who will be playing in it. A good scenario will also give the DM a reason for choosing specific monsters and treasures to put in the dungeon.

This, I would argue, is the HEART of adventure design. Without a scenario, there is little reason to adventure...D&D simply becomes a game of rolling dice until resources are expended or boredom overtakes us. The scenario provides context for adventuring; it helps focus the players and promotes active engagement with the setting (i.e. "the dungeon") where the adventuring is taking place. Readers might note that this paragraph on scenario choice provides at least part (if not most) of my judging criteria. 

SO...let's look at this Arena AEmilia. It provides a setting...a place. The place is stocked mostly with NPC characters, though there are a few beasties in animal pens. The NPCs are given some personality notes. The setting has a map. There is treasure listed...in exceptionally poor amounts for adventurers of levels 4th-6th.

But there is no scenario presented. 

There is no reason for PCs to go here. There is no adventure. There is an arena. There are people. There are shiny silver coins in their purses. I suppose you can kick open doors and stab people for their purses of silver coins, but I'd like to think we've long since evolved past that type of play. This is D&D, not Greg Costikyan's Violence RPG.

This is not an adventure. It receives the coveted zero stars (out of five) award.

Unearthed Arcana Revisited

From Dragon Magazine, issue #59:

What follows is strictly for the AD&D game....

With plenty of labor and even more luck, there will be an ADVANCED DUNGEONS & DRAGONS expansion volume next year. It will be for both players and DMs, with several new character classes, new weapons, scores of new spells, new magic items, etc. What will follow here in the next few issues is a sampling of the material slated for inclusion in the expansion.

E. Gary Gygax, March 1982

There would be no expansion volume in 1983. Nor in 1984. The "next book of monsters" (also mentioned in the article) which was to be released afterwards, instead appeared in 1983 under the title Monster Manual II. Presumably, being mainly a compilation of new monsters appearing in prior publications...especially TSR adventure modules...it was a much easier matter of transcribing existing creature entries in alphabetical order. 

Unearthed Arcana, the 'Book That Was Promised,' was finally published in the summer of 1985.

Pause for a minute. Why am I writing this? Just what is this all about?

Let's talk some straight talk for a moment:  as long time readers know, I got back to playing AD&D again in November of 2020. Since that time, I've introduced a lot of young 'uns to the game, written a lot of adventures, and spent a bunch of time spreading "the Good News" of the game (as I see it). However, in all that time...now entering my 5th year of 1E campaigning...I've limited my game to the only books I consider good and essential, namely the PHB, the DMG, and the various monstrous manuals (MM, FF, and MM2). The adventures I've written (approximately 6 or 7) have all carried the notation that I strongly recommend against using the rules in the Unearthed Arcana.  I haven't even cracked the UA in front of my kids; I've mentioned the book to Diego, but given only a cursory (and negative) overview of the tome to him. Neither of my kids know much...if anything!...about it, which should come as a surprise considering just how much lore they know of the history of the D&D game, its publications, and the various changes its seen over the decades.

[f.w.i.w.  my kids get curious about stuff and I tend to be a wind-bag of a talker]

Just why have I excised the Unearthed Arcana from my 1E table? It's not like I never used it...as I mentioned the first month I started this blog (!), we absolutely adored the UA, back in the day, and implemented every rule it had: Comeliness, traveling spell books, social standing and birth order, bronze armor, etc., etc. If it was in the UA, it was in our game. Chain lightning was a staple spell. Heward's Handy Haversack was a staple magic item...as were magic quarterstaffs (had to have something for all those thief-acrobats in our game). My brother ran multiple barbarian characters. We used weapon specialization; maybe even double specialization. There were Hierophant Druids. We replaced the unarmed combat system in the DMG with the simplified version found in the UA. I mean, we used it all.

So why have I not used it at all since returning to the King of Games, four years ago?

There is a stigma to the UA these days. The Grogtalk folks refer it as "The Book That Shall Not Be Named." Published in 1985 it is deep into the decadent years of TSR (post-Mentzer Basic, post-cartoon, post-DragonLance)...the years that led to the spiraling issues that would (eventually) cost Gygax his company. There is a commonly held belief that the Unearthed Arcana was solely cobbled together from past Dragon magazine articles in an effort to bring one more Gygaxian cash-cow to the table to save the company from debt. This idea is echoed in the Wikipedia article on the book:

The original Unearthed Arcana was written by Gary Gygax with design and editing contributions by Jeff Grubb and Kim Mohan, respectively, and published by TSR in 1985. Gygax reportedly produced the book to raise money as TSR was deeply in debt at the time. He announced in the March 1985 issue of Dragon magazine that Unearthed Arcana would be released in the summer of that year. He proposed the book as "an interim volume to expand the Dungeon Masters Guide and Players Handbook", as the information was spread out in several places and difficult to keep track of. Unearthed Arcana was to include material previously published in Dragon, written by Gygax and updated and revised for the book.

While the latter part of that quote is indeed from Gygax's own pen (in March of '85), the inference is clearly inaccurate...as stated at the beginning of this post Gygax had already planned on an expansion volume in 1982, and the articles he penned over the next many issues (which would compose the bulk of the UA) were written expressly for the book that was coming. This was not some sort of cash grab...THAT statement in the wikipedia article is accredited to a 2006 article in The Believer magazine, in which the author (Paul La Farge) asserts:

By 1984, the company was $1.5 million in debt, and the bank was ready to perfect its liens on TSR’s trademarks: in effect, to repossess Dungeons & Dragons. Gygax got word that the Blumes were trying to sell TSR, and he returned to Lake Geneva, where he persuaded the board of directors to fire Kevin Blume and published a new D&D rulebook to raise cash.

But La Farge's research is suspect. He notes in his footnotes that the book was Unearthed Arcana, a tome that "introduced the gnome race;" a gross misstatement (the gnome had been around since the 1978 PHB), done mainly, I believe, for effect (the gnome race was rather reviled by 2006, due to changes of characterization over the years). But I draw this conclusion because much of the article seems snarky and sensational.

While TSR was definitely facing financial difficulty due largely to mismanagement, it is a fact that Gygax had every intention of publishing Unearthed Arcana long before 1984. His time spent in California (which would result in three seasons of the Dungeons & Dragons cartoon...from '83-'85) was the main reason for any delay in publishing the projects that envisioned...and I believe that, and the personal issues he had during this time (his 1983 divorce and his new "Hollywood social life") contributed as much as anything to the declining quality of the products with his name on it post-1983.

But much, if not MOST, of the UA was created before 1983. Not only that, much of it was play-tested...if one is willing to believe the statements/updates given in Dragon magazine in 1982.

And so...perhaps this material is worthy of the game?

That's the conclusion that I am...slowly (and somewhat reluctantly)...beginning to come to. Why were the acrobat, barbarian, and cavalier featured in the D&D cartoon (first airing in September of 1983)? Because, they provided a good advertising vehicle for a planned book that had already published and tested said classes (the last one, the cavalier, being found in the April '83 issue of Dragon). I have no compunction with the feelings that the UA, as published, was somewhat rushed, slap-dash, and error-riven. But much of the stuff in the book...both its ideas and its mechanics/rules...were far less so. 

Rather, they were thoughtful or interesting...and worth a gander.

What took me down this particular rabbit hole? Well, a couple weeks ago I had this "great" idea of statting up the "D&D kids" for the 1E system. But while most every one of them is easy enough, Diana the acrobat was throwing me for a loop. And since I certainly didn't want to use the UA (because of the reputation the thing is currently carrying), I figured I'd 'go back to the source' and check out the original Dragon article that had been "ransacked" for Gygax's "company needed cash infusion." And what I found (in issue #69) was an article, pretty much word-for-word the same as in the UA, and written by Gygax himself (whereas, I had assumed most if not all the UA material had been culled from the work of other authors). There was also this introduction:

"This time, rather than reveal a new sub-class such as the Barbarian, I though the Enlightened Readership of this splendid vehicle might enjoy another concept. What you are about to read is the information so far developed pertaining to a split class. This a first. To my knowledge, such a possibility has not been expressed before in any similar game system. There is nothing similar to it in the AD&D game system although choosing to change from one profession to another is not too unlike the idea. Let us then get to the business at hand. I bring you, without further ado, the official new split-class for thieves."

"This time?" "The information so far developed?" "Official new split-class?"  This was not some highlight piece deemed to have enough traction for inclusion in a cash grab book...this is a sneak peak at mechanics already in development! By Gygax himself! In January of 1983!

I quickly found a copy of Gygax's "barbarian" from July of 1982 (issue #63); more information helped crystalie the picture:

"As usual, I am working on too many projects at once, and each gets a bit of attention but seems to never get done. At some point quite a few should suddenly be completed, and my productivity will seem great indeed. Meanwhile, I have dusted off the barbarian character class which the testers have enjoyed the most of the new classes I have proposed for the expansion of the AD&D rules. While the other classes seem to need more work, barbarians were instantly used and enjoyed by those eager for a change. Now you, Gentle Readers, have a chance to test the class for yourselves and see if you agree."

Okay, so...wow. This was a project in active development since at least 1982. It was being worked on in conjunction with other projects (in issue #59...March 1982...he details these as including the Monster Manual II, the never-would-be-released T2, The Forgotten Temple of Tharizdun (WG4), and yet another adventure called "Wasp Nest -- The City State of Stoink" which I don't think I've ever heard of). It is being tested in play. It is to be part of an actual, planned expansion to the AD&D rules.

And what, exactly, was my problem with this rule set again? Re-reading the barbarian entry, I don't see anything terrible with it. Nothing over-powered, considering the x.p. cost...and while the magic item restrictions can be 'bought off' at higher levels (the levels where those restrictions can really matter), doing so negates many of the barbarian's special abilities. And above 8th level, a normal fighter will be going up TWO levels for every ONE of the barbarian. 

No looking back, my main issue with the barbarian appears to have been all the "world building" required to use the class effectively...and that's exactly what I like about it now, in my (more mature) elder years. This bit (from the UA):

Cavemen, dervishes, nomads, and tribesmen (see Monster Manual, "Men") are now considered barbarians.

...is, frankly, amazing. And says a LOT about how Gygax expected DMs to approach the AD&D campaign in their individual settings.  The standard classes are all a part of a civilization; and everything outside of that civilization are considered superstitious, magic-fearing savages. Political correctness be damned; in a post-apocalyptic fantasy setting, I kind of like this...a lot!  And it makes the humanoid tribes even MORE savage. Something to think about.

But...okay. The barbarian is cool. The thief-acrobat is cool. What about the other stuff: things like comeliness, weapon specialization, and the (*shudder*) cavalier class? 

Here's the thing: going through these Dragon magazines, issue-by-issue, it's clear that not al of the items that ended up included in the Unearthed Arcana were created equal. The new attribute Comeliness, which I detest immensely, was simply a rambling thought exercise by Gygax as part of an update/letter to the "Loyal Readers" regarding the state of the project (see issue #67). Weapon specialization, another poorly thought out concept, is simply mentioned in passing (after a larger section featuring new illusionist spells) as a conversation Gygax had with Len Lakofka with some hastily sketched out (and un-tested) rules, based on Len's unofficial "archer" class. There is no "double specialization" mentioned. 

[sorry, folks, I'm not a big Lakofka fan]

And the cavalier? It was not an off-the-cuff musing like some of these other articles. But it IS different from how it finally appears in the Unearthed Arcana. For one thing, the cavalier is a sub-class of fighter...as it should be!...a horseman specialist based on the chivalric knights of myth and legend.  It is, however, generally a mess, trying to shoehorn the half-baked weapon specialization rules with the theme-specific weapon restrictions, and focus on mounted (i.e. lance combat). Except that elven cavaliers (another concept I abhor) get archery specialization because...elves?  It's pretty dumb/bad, though perhaps not as terrible as the UA version which changed the nature of the paladin class, all for the bad.

However, Gygax admits the cavalier is only half baked; again this is April 1983 and life was pretty complicated (he'd just finalized an acrimonious divorce with his wife of 25 years in March); in his intro to the class he writes:

"As usual, your comments are invited. Input is most desirable, for what appears here is the basis -- not the final form -- of the sub-class. As is also usual, it is unlikely that comments sent to us will receive a direct reply -- there just isn't anyone on staff at this time to handle such work. While I am working to put together AD&D material, and Frank Mentzer is engaged in the revision and expansion of the D&D game system, the Industrious Staff of TSR are seekingpersonnel to fulfill the needs of you, the Understanding Readers. Thus, we should soon have the wherewithal to respond properly to all correspondence. Meanwhile, suffer along and accept my general thanks to all of you."

Sure, Gary. On to California.

So, the Unearthed Arcana is a mixed bag. New weapons, spells (perhaps), barbarian and acrobat classes? Good. Cavalier, comeliness, and weapon specialization? Frigging awful. Yes, the thing was rushed to production without adequate play-testing (or, even, proof-reading) probably because the company was strapped for cash to pay the bills. But this was a planned project, and much of it has Gygax's imagination and good design work imprinted in it. 

And, for me, that's enough to give the UA a second try. Not the whole book, mind you, but much of it. I will, of course, want to go through the old Dragon magazine articles and see which ones need pruning, which ones are unworkable, which ones were 'good enough' before other fingers stepped in to "help" get the book together. It isn't a big deal...something to amuse myself (culling these idea). And, hopefully, something to amuse my players.

[it is, perhaps unfortunate that I have altered the 1E magic system for my home game, as the plethora of new spells and the spell book rules (not to mention cantrips and apprentice MU mechanics) would be far more useful with "standard" 1E. But my system works too good to change it just to add a handful of beloved spells (like dismissal, chain lightning, and teleport without error). Well...we'll see. We'll see]

All right, that's enough for now. My expanded mind has been emptied, and I'll try to get some sleep. Signing off from Mexico!

; )

Just look at this geezer...

Why D&D Works

I had an epiphany Saturday night, something I'd been struggling with and considering for years: why does D&D work, i.e why does it have staying power as a role-playing game, when so many other RPGs do not?  What is it that sets D&D apart from all other systems, genres, and competitors?

Saturday, while walking to the store to pick up some beer, it came to me: raise dead. 

Now, to be clear, there are a lot of reasons why D&D works...and works really well...for long-term (campaign) play. The driving force of the advancement mechanics (the x.p./leveling "carrot"). The plethora of challenges that scale from low levels to high. The micro-/macro- scale of the setting (i.e. the premise of exploring closed "dungeon" sites, and the endless possibility of exploring a whole world or different dimensions/planes). 

But all these things can be (and are) replicated/implemented in other genres of games: lots of games have "levels" and/or points-driven systems. Lots of of genres feature "adventure sites" for drilled-down exploration. Most RPGs present a scale of challenges from the beginning stages until the later.  Many, many games have emulated these particular aspects found in D&D. 

However, while those things, when implemented, can add staying power (i.e. sustained interest/engagement with game play) in practice, I've never any of those games to last for longer than a few months...and generally not even that long. 

[cue all the folks who've been running 20+ year Traveller campaigns to pipe up]

Here's the thing: I think (I think) that unless you have some slavish devotion to a particular genre/setting IP (for example, the person who ONLY plays Star Wars, because they love-love-love Star Wars and would not play RPGs at all without system to allows them to live in the SW universe), for sustained engagement over time, the participants require two things:

1. a real, true challenge that tests them (no matter how poor the player, they become competent with enough hours logged), and
2. a "tangible" (I use this term VERY loosely) form of accomplishment/reward demonstrating their impact (i.e. there has to be something to show for the time spent).

And the area where D&D differs from pretty much EVERY GAME on the market (certainly every game I can think of...which is more than a few), is the presence of of game mechanics that allow dead/destroyed characters to return to the game without breaking the verisimilitude of an escapist (fantasy) game. This is not "plot armor" for characters; instead magic like raise dead, reincarnate, resurrection, and wish are all baked into the system...these spells are a hard-wired part of the game's setting.

So what does this mean? Why is it important?

Well, for one thing, it means a DM can push the players as hard as he/she feels is appropriate for their capabilities without fear that beloved characters might be killed derailing years of work and investment. See, I readily acknowledge that players develop attachments to characters over long periods of consistent play...and not just attachments to their own characters...and DMs are not immune to this effect either. You work a character from 1st level up to 5th or 8th or 10th+ level, and the character takes on the same status in the minds of the participants as a major character in a favorite television serial.

It happens. It's not about creating a nifty "backstory" for the character, or developing a PC's "personality." It's about actual play, over time. Such characters matter to players.

And D&D provides means of bringing them back to life. The D&D world is a magical world...by definition and by design...that presumes souls (and spirits, yes, I see you DDG) do not immediately depart to their eternal reward upon expiration of the physical body. Players know this going in to the game. No, it's not necessarily easy (nor cheap) to do so, but there is always room for an Orpheus like quest. I've seen it happen...more than once in more than one campaign.

And so, because of this possibility, DMs can push the players hard. The kid gloves can come off. The DM is free to create dangerous scenarios, and run those scenarios by the rules, letting the dice fall as they may, and allowing the players to suffer and strive and triumph and fail on the basis of their own abilities and their own luck. Without the need for plot armor immunity, "death saves," or comic book style "ret-cons." Real Play; Real Stakes. Death on the line. 

Which, by the by, makes the experience of playing D&D all the more visceral...all the more adrenaline-pumping...for the people sitting around the table. Cheers and groans and fear and real tension. And, upon success, real feelings of achievement. The kind of roulette spins that breed gambling addicts...which is why people who enjoy D&D play, will continue to love and enjoy it. 

It's not an interest in improv that keeps them riveted.

So, yeah, this is the difference between D&D and (pretty much) every other RPG on the market. Superheroes, space opera, horror, espionage...none of them offer both the hard challenge of D&D, and the setting ingrained "get out of jail free" cards that take the sting out of loss. Of course, the D&D game has more wonderful things than just the magic of raise dead (including asymmetrical game play, a reward system that encourages action and cooperation, etc.), but this is the thing that, I believe, is UNIQUE to Dungeons & Dragons, and it facilitates long-term buy-in and investment which opens the potential to see how a campaign can unfold...in all its glory.

Happy Monday, folks. 

: )

[and, if you're an American, please don't forget to exercise your right as a citizen and VOTE]

"Memorable Encounters"

Oh, boy. Feather ruffling time.

I don't care about writing memorable encounters. Writing adventures is NOT about writing "memorable encounters." Trying to design "memorable" encounters is the DM-equivalent of the player twinking out over how to use their kewl powers in some super-awesome combo.

No. Just no.

People need to trash the "video game thinking." Video games are not the origin of this concept, but they have far and away been the proliferator of it. Stop thinking like you're designing a video game. OR, if you really must: go design video games. Video games love (and desperately need) "memorable encounters."

D&D does not.

I'm looking back, over my many decades as a DM and a player, and trying to recall "memorable encounters" and I'm pretty much drawing a blank. Really: I'm coming up with zero. Certainly nothing that was set up to be "memorable." There are, of course, things that are memorable, and they fall into three general categories: situations, successes, and failures.

Successes are times when the PCs had a "big win." I've noted some of these on Ye Old Blog over the years: things like slaying the naga in N1 or offing the gender-bent Strahd in my re-skinning of I6. 

Failures are usually amusing (to me anyway) TPKs and pyrrhic victories; I've sometimes blogged about these as well, including parties (well, what was left of them) fleeing White Plume Mountain with their tails tucked between their legs. My own journey through Q1 (as a player) resulted in a rather memorable failure, just by the by.

Situations are something else completely...I think I'd best define it as "player manufactured drama." Players bumbling into some sort of predicament, based on ignorance, lack of leadership, or ridiculous in-fighting of some sort. In my youth (before I 'wised up') this sometimes (often?) led to some sort of PVP...but not always. Sometimes, "situations" just involved PCs trying to Rube Goldberg their way out of some sort of silliness. Yes, it makes for a "memorable" event.

These are the things that are remembered: successes, failures, and silly situations. Not encounters. Encounters are a dime a dozen. It's not about what the encounter IS...not about the types of creatures or NPCs or their combination of attacks. It's about what happens DURING the encounter and the RESULT of the encounter...maybe. A fight with kobolds that ends in a TPK is memorable because we got gaffled by a bunch of tiny dog people with spears...not because of the monsters' special abilities or any sort of tactical BS. 

You do NOT need super special snowflake set-piece encounters to have a memorable game of D&D. Forget that noise, because making it a priority is a distraction from what makes ACTUAL memorable D&D play. Memorable D&D play comes from playing the game HARD, with CONSISTENCY. It is about applying PRESSURE via the rules at hand. It is about creating scenarios that drive PLAYER ACTION, and then following that thread ruthlessly...for good or ill. Sometimes the players win and they take away a big pile of treasure with lots of cheering and hollering. Sometimes the players lose and everyone has to roll up new characters (at least now they can try playing a ranger...or whatever).

For my players, there are only a couple things I care about them remembering at the end of the day:

#1 I want them to remember their character and their character's journey. NOT because the character has a cool backstory or story arc or blah, blah, blah. I want them to remember (with fondness) their dwarf or paladin or WHATEVER and feel a sense of pride (if the character was successful and had a long career) or wistful sadness (if its career was cut short by some untimely demise). Because, in the end, the character's journey is the player's journey.

#2 I want them to remember me, as a Dungeon Master: that I challenged them and pushed them and played HARD with them and allowed them to EARN Every. Thing. They. Got. 

Because THAT, my lovely readers, is what D&D is really, really all about. That, my friends, is what makes the game great. Playable content and a well-run game is all that's required to make a game memorable. DMs that are "firm but fair." Worlds that are consistent and have verisimilitude. Play experiences that players get lost within.

Yes, encounters are a large part of the D&D play experience. But it's not the uniqueness of an encounter that makes it worth remembering (if it is worth remembering). Rather, it is the interaction with that encounter, and what the consequences of that interaction might be...and those things can't be scripted, only played. 

You want a memorable script? Write a screenplay.

Something New

I wrote three-quarters of a rather long post yesterday (the 19th...my son's birthday) that I didn't have a chance to finish/publish...what else is new?...

[at least it wasn't particularly maudlin...THAT long post happened a couple days before (when I was more than usually drunk) and will probably stay, lingering, on the draft board as a reminder of my "inner darkness." I was just in a rather depressed mood that evening]

...*ahem* a rather looong post attempting to explain why D&D as designed is eminently suitable to its role as an adventure game, as opposed to...mm...well, pretty much any other game that gets categorized these days as an "RPG."

[we are, of course, NOT discussing "computer RPGs;" for purposes of my writing here, I have zero interest in CRPGs]

Anyhoo, I didn't finish it because A) time constraints, and B) I was having a hard time nailing my point or (perhaps) bringing the argument/thesis around to a satisfying conclusion (satisfying to me at any rate). Why do other games...games not beholden to elves and swords and wizards and dragons...just, flat out suck for long-term, experiential adventure gaming?

Why indeed.

SO, while out driving today, or musing a bit, or...SOMEthing....a new idea popped into my head. A new, interesting (maybe) project. Kind of a culmination, or (better) a possible synthesis of a NUMBER of ideas I've had over the years. For a particular game design. 

As usual, this particular idea is a bit...daunting. 

So that's all I want to say at the moment. If anything comes of it, I'll write more. I just want to spend a couple days/nights tinkering with the idea. That's all; just...tinkering. 

My son is a teenager, by the way. 13. I started this blog two years before he was born. It's been a long road. A long, long road.

Peace and love, folks.

YOU Are The Story

Jeez Louise...so many topics to get to (none of which are OGL-related, thank goodness!) and so little time. I'm trying to write a damn blog post about an orc (not just any old orc, but a SPECIFIC orc), and then THIS comes up. Sheesh.

But it's (kind of) important. 

So, Adam (Barking Alien, for those in the know) posted a comment on my last post (Boring Old D&D) saying:

"It's posts like this that confuse me in regards to what it is you enjoy and why you enjoy it. You don't go in for the Story, Narrative driven games but 'it's not just about killing monster and taking stuff'. How does that work? 

"How do you have no story but it's not just a video game with paper and dice?"

For the record, this is (perhaps) the thousandth time BA and I have danced this little dance. He is very much of the (now old) New School of RPG game play...the kind that came out of Dragonlance and 2E-era D&D, the kind that in the '90s led to White Wolf games like Vampire and all its many imitators. Games that wanted to explore story and genre until birthing (and being killed by) the rise of the indie, Story Now (or Narrativist-oriented) games. For those of us who've been around since 1981 (and followed the evolution of the hobby), its pretty easy to recognize the foibles of 5E D&D as the second coming (and rebranding/marketing) of 2E AD&D. 

[that's probably a whole 'nother post. What'd I say? Too many topics these days. However, here's a hint: WotC/Hasbro's quest to "more monetize" the D&D brand has direct parallels with post-1985 TSR]

ANYway. Adam is no 'spring chicken.' He's been playing RPGs nearly as long (or perhaps longer) than I have. He came in with Basic...Holmes, if I remember correctly...long before Dragonlance. Certainly long before 2E. One might jump to the question, "Hey, why isn't this guy on the same page as JB? He's an old geezer...doesn't he have the same sensibilities?" Just remember: the story-centric "role playing" that followed Wargamers Gygax/Arneson initial creation was created by folks OLDER than us. The Hickmans are OLDER than me...they were married adults in their 20s when they were writing epic Dragonlance modules.  This is not an issue of age, generation, or "wargamer background."

[in case anyone's wondering, I don't have a wargaming background]

The way I see it, the problem here is one of confusion and misunderstanding. There is a (LARGE) segment of the hobby that sees RPGs as vehicles for "telling stories." That "telling stories" is the OBJECTIVE of play. "This game [insert name] allows you and your friends to tell stories, just like [insert favorite book, film, or genre one wishes to emulate]."

Before going any further, in this post you need to BREAK that presumption. Even if the game instructions SAY that's the objective of play, you need to nip that right in the bud because there's a good chance that A) the game writer had a poor understanding of what was going on, AND/OR B) was simply emulating prior games description of 'what an RPG is' when they wrote it.

BREAK THAT PRESUMPTION. DO NOT PRESUME THE GAME IS DESIGNED TO TELL STORIES.

Okay. Are we clear? Blank slate everyone? Now we can advance.

There ARE games on the market that are specifically designed to tell stories. Once Upon A Time is a good example. Story Cubes are another. The Adventures of Baron Munchausen is yet another and also includes some elements of 'role-playing' in it. 

There are ALSO many RPGs (and pseudo-RPGs...like Fiasco) that have been published over the years that have the objective of telling stories, using recognizable RPG elements, that can somewhat succeed presuming everyone is on board with genre emulation. The Dying Earth RPG. My Life With Master. New Fire: Temikamatl. OrkWorld (maybe). Dust Devils. Prince Valiant. Maybe Amber Diceless. Christian Aldridge's Maelstrom (i.e. Story Engine) The degree to which the telling stories is supported by the game's mechanics (rules/systems) varies between games, but they are GENERALLY supportive of creating stories...in their particular genre...and they don't do much else. 

[there are other examples...really, too many to list]

Then there are...the other games. Games that are based on D&D concepts, mechanics, and play dynamics. "Role-playing games" they are called...games run and moderated by a game master while the other participants play the role of a single character. Games with explicitly stated (or else assumed) objectives of "telling a story." Of creating a narrative with a point to it. Because OTHERWISE the act of play is deemed to have no point or reason to play. 

Or, to use Adam's words, "How do you have no story but it's not just a video game with dice?"

This is coming at the game from the wrong angle. It is starting with the presumption that playing the game must be about something (it is), about something meaningful (it is), like creating a narrative with a plot a climax and heroic...or at least worthy...protagonists (it is not).  

Dungeons & Dragons was...originally...never about creating stories in the way an actual story telling game is designed. That doesn't mean stories didn't result from the antics of the players, stories that might emulate much of the genre books that inspired D&D (i.e. the infamous Appendix N). But any story creation was the by-product of play, not the point of play. The point of playing Dungeons & Dragons was playing Dungeons & Dragons.  And any textual statements to the contrary should be chalked up as either:

1. a failure to understand/grasp the appeal of a very new, very unusual game by the original authors, AND/OR
2. blatant lies and/or terrible attempts at marketing a game that was poorly understood even by its own publishers.

Later RPGs tried to take the "magic" of D&D into their own genres, settings, with tweaks to the system (as TSR did with Top Secret, Boot Hill, Gamma World, Star Frontiers, etc.). But for a number of reasons (which I might get to in a later post) these were LESS successful...and not just because people prefer elves and swords and magic. 

[like I said...needs its own post]

But SOME folks really still wanted elves and swords and magic but with something MORE. For the Hickmans, they had very specific design goals: they wanted objectives that weren't limited to pillaging and looting, they wanted an "intriguing story" that was "intricately woven into play itself," and they wanted scenarios that could be finished in an evening's play. When the Hickmans were hired by TSR, they incorporated these design priorities into their adventures and when those adventures were successful, the design priorities of the (for profit) company shifted to match.

And all the imitators of D&D followed suit.

Again, realize that creating a story was NEVER the "point of play" for the D&D game. The systems (i.e. rules) it has are there to facilitate playing D&D, not to facilitate "telling stories." People like playing D&D (it's why the game is so successful...and will be explained in that later post), just like people enjoy playing baseball or soccer despite there being no real "point" to the game. The point of play is the play of the game. You are not creating stories...you ARE the story. 

Some of the biggest name designers in the story-oriented RPG industry never understood this. Here's Mark Rein-Hagen, designer of Vampire: The Masquerade:

"I have always been in love with roleplaying. Slap-happy mad over it. Ever since that first Sunday afternoon when my father and I sat down with the church intern and played Dungeons & Dragons, it has been my passion....

"In short order we'd created our characters and begun our adventure. I rolled up a Dwarf and my father made a Cleric...we were prepared to encounter all manner of fell beasts and sinister mysteries, but not to be caught up by it the way we were. The adventure was called In Search of the Unknown. How apropos that title was I was not to realize until much later.

"After a few hours of play we found ourselves hopelessly lost due to a magical portal...(description of adventure follows)...I was so excited that I couldn't sit still whenever the gamemaster rolled the dice...and when we finally got out of the dungeon with our treasure and our lives intact, I raced around the house screaming with relief and exaltation.

"It was wonderful. It was exhausting. It was miles beyond any other experience I've ever had.

"In that afternoon I was transformed, elevated to a new plane. I had a profound, almost spiritual experience. My entire goal in roleplaying has been to once again visit that mystical garden in which I so enjoyed myself, and discover a means by which I might remain there...it is the sort of thing that changes a life.

"But the trouble is, it didn't happen every time I played. In fact, it didn't happen for a very long time...(long description of seven years of gaming, going from dungeon crawling to wilderness crawling to PVP to min-maximing munchkinism)...sure we had fun, but it wasn't exhilarating, it wasn't transforming, and it wasn't what I really wanted....

"Eventually, it grew altogether too wearisome, and I began to roleplay less and less. Roleplaying became a hollow experience, a sad reenactment of the rites of youth. 

"Then it suddenly happened again, while playing Runequest and exploring the ruins of Parvis. An experience just as intense and transforming as the first. All of a sudden I realized what I had been missing, and I was horrified. A skilled and intense gamemaster had brought back the magic.

"These two experiences are what, for me at least, define what roleplaying is about. Is is what attracts me, and continues to compel me."

[all excerpt taken from The Players Guide for V:TM, essay: "A Once Forgotten Dream," copyright 1991]

That's not the end of Rein-Hagen's essay, as he goes on to explain his thoughts about how to create that exciting, transformative experience in your own games. He arrives at the wrong (practical) conclusion despite having the right answers. He gives four simple points to follow, none of which require one to play a "deeply personal," "intense," "story focused game" like Vampire: The Masquerade:

1. Make you mind as open and receptive as you possibly can
2. Believe in the world and scenario created by the game master
3. Identify with your character (the character is your avatar for interacting with the world)
4. Exercise (grow/develop) your imagination

Of course, all that is just player-facing advice (this is the advice section in the PLAYERS Guide, after all). The part that he glossed over...or ignored/forgot/discarded...was the most important revelation of his essay: All of a sudden I realized what I had been missing, and I was horrified. A skilled and intense gamemaster had brought back the magic.

It's not about creating a story...it's about experiencing the fantasy. And to do that requires a skilled, intense, and committed GM...and players who are open, receptive, and committed to operating in the GM's world. When THAT happens...whether you're playing D&D, RuneQuest, Vampire, whatever...THEN you're getting the point of play. The point of play is the experience of playing. YOU are the story.

: )

Boring Old D&D

Dennis commented thusly on my last blog post:

"This week, my older boy and I started playing a campaign dungeon crawl board game. My friend, the game host Adam, the other adult player Emily, and I were discussing RPGs at our lunch break. Adam was telling us how he's usually uncomfortable with RPGs because he's not really into "doing voices" or trying to think like a fantasy person. He's much more into the puzzle-solving, tactical decisions, and finding ways to gain advantage from the rules side of game play. Hence his preference to play these sorts of games that sort of mimic D&D play, but with just the interaction with the rules and the current state of play to worry about. 

"I think he would 100% agree with this blog post, and honestly, I agree too. Knowing the rules, including the in-game lore that comes baked into the rules, is not destructive metagaming at all. It's good game play. 

"He was curious about how someone could play the same game for decades and not get tired of the rules, though!"

[emphasis added by Yours Truly]

Ah, yes. Boring old D&D, right? Let's get down to it. 

I'll start with this: my kids have been playing more video games lately than I like, which is probably about a quarter of what their friends play. They have Nintendo Switches with a couple-three games, the main one of which they play being Minecraft, a game that shares a lot of its play elements with old style (if Basic) D&D. Prior to this Christmas, they'd shared a single Switch, but my daughter received her own as a gift, and now they're able to do much more...cooperative play, for example, or networking with friends who own their own consoles. 

Yesterday, Diego asked if he could download Fortnite, a game that has been all the rage with his classmates the last year or two. Sofia asked if she could download Roblox, a game that is popular with kids in her class (and which I remember, was very big with Diego's classmates when they were Sofia's age). I told them both that I would "think about it," balancing the pros (21st century social networking and friendship building) with the cons (stunted development of mind/imagination as your entertainment is piped directly into your brain). I'm still thinking about it.

Video games are a vice. They can be addictive, they can lead to obsession. Are they as destructive as, say, alcohol or drugs or pornography or caffeine? Probably not...but they are damaging. And the damage they can do, minor though it is, can hit you in multiple ways from multiple angles. Relationships. Health. Mind. Maturation. I don't let my kids drink booze or coffee or surf porn or smoke...as a parent, why should I not police their gaming?  

D&D is not a board game (duh, says the choir I'm preaching to...just hold on). Yes, "duh," you say, no shit Sherlock, D&D isn't a board game.And yet there are plenty of folks, including longtime RPGers who've left D&D play, or who only play later edition D&D who look at the game I play and say, "sure, it's not a board game, but it's not much more than that, is it?" Guys (and Gals) who see the thing in the most simplistic of terms:

• Kill monsters (roll-roll-roll)
• Get treasure (count points)
• "Level up"
• Rinse
• Repeat

How boring is THAT? Where are the bells? Where are the whistles? You play a fighter? So, you're a walking stack of hit points with a backpack to put treasure? And a sword and heavy armor? And all you do is charge and roll a D20 and play a game of dicing for attrition so that you can get an abstract "score" of points based on g.p. value in order to gain MORE hit points? How is that even FUN?  Didn't the whole novelty of the thing wear off after the first couple sessions? 

Hell, didn't the novelty wear off after the first couple of encounters?

And for some folks, the answer to that question must be a resounding YES, as evidenced by their own actions...their leaving of the hobby, or their moving on to other games, or their need to make D&D about something other than the game (It's about the "role-playing!" It's about the story making! It's about the strategy of character builds! It's about the camaraderie of friends playing together! It's about annoying the other players at the table and doing PVP! Etc.). The game...as written, as designed...is simply TOO SIMPLISTIC, even if you play the "advanced" version with its extra options and tacked-on complication and fiddly-ness.

For those people...well, I can only imagine what they must think of me. I mean, what do you think about a guy who's been playing the same game for 40+ years? Haven't you explored (or drawn) enough dungeon corridors? Haven't you found (or given out) enough treasure chests? Haven't you killed (or run encounters with) enough imaginary monsters? Isn't it BORING? 

Why not just play Sniper 3D (a stupid video game that I currently have loaded on my phone)? All the mindless bloodshed and violence, all the imaginary gold coins and points (and leveling), all the new gear upgrades and none of the WORK it takes to play (or DM) a game of Dungeons & Dragons. Right? If what you want is BORING OLD D&D why not just get an app that lets you murder-hobo in the free minutes that you can sneak during the course of your humdrum day? Take out some aggression on imagined foes! Feel good (*ding!*) about another "achievement" earned!

*sigh*

For all the imagination I see on display these days -- the huge numbers of tabletop games and RPG products on the market (both digitally and in print), the huge numbers of video games on the market, the huge numbers of TV shows and films on the various channels, networks, and streaming services -- for all the imagination I see on display these days, there is a surprising lack of imagination on display. 

Old D&D isn't boring. YOU are boring. Or, to borrow and repurpose a pithy phrase from a shopping bag picked up at a bookshop some years back: "If you think playing old D&D is boring, you're doing it wrong."  If you're tired of the game, you're not really playing the game to its potential.

Most games of the "board" variety, like most consumable entertainment "product" (movies, TV shows, video games, etc.) are FINITE. They have limits; they have boundaries. They END. You can take a game like, say, Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic and play through it 3-4 times before it gets tiresome. Other games, like Red Dead Revolver might only be worth a single playthrough. Films and TV series are similar (some are worth a re-watch)...same with books and (probably) story arc campaigns of the type published by WotC.

But unlike these forms of entertainment, D&D is ENDLESS and INFINITE. For all practical purposes, anyway...there is (maybe) a limit to the human imagination, but in some 5,000 years of recorded history we haven't yet reached it. People who focus on the "killing" and "looting" aspects of the game are, in fact, missing the point of play: these are mechanical elements of game play (as is the Vancian magic system) that enable D&D to run. They are not the objective of game play anymore than the engine of a car is the "objective" (or point) of owning a vehicle.

Does it really not make sense? I'll try to clarify even more:

• D&D is a fantasy adventure game...it provides (imaginary) peril and danger and as a game requires rules (systems, mechanics) for modeling its inherent violence. There are LOTS of good reasons why the system works as well as it does (that's for another post), but you NEED the system in order to run a game of fantasy adventure with perils, dangers, and inherent violence.
• So why play a game of "fantasy adventure?" Well, I've addressed that before in a different long-winded post. Rereading it...well, I don't think I could restate things much better but (for purposes of this post) I'd just emphasize that experiencing fantasy adventure is kind of the opposite of experiencing boredom.

My daughter and I spoke at length yesterday about the kinds of games she enjoys playing (because she complained she doesn't like the same games Diego and I do, and neither he or I want to play her type of games). I found that the games SHE enjoys playing on the playground at school are (mostly) variations of video games her friends play, imaginary games based firmly in the gameplay of games like Doors, or Choo-Choo Charles, or Minecraft. Often, one or more participants will take the role of narrator, describing what occurs while the other kids react within the context of the game...it is imaginary play based on video games without the video game console.  

[not much different from how my friends and I played at her age...except that we were running D&D without books and dice]

The human imagination is an amazing thing, and (in conjunction with other likeminded individuals) can provide hours of entertainment without the need to resort to dice or rulebooks or gaming consoles. Boundless as it is, however, it requires grist to mill and fuel to go (I've written about this before, though it was with regard to artwork)...and here, HERE, is the main, major difference between "boring old D&D" and any number of other finite, consumable forms of entertainment: it encourages (some would say requires) you to go out and expand and explore and research and fill your mind and imagination. 

Instead of stunting growth and development, D&D (done right) increases growth and development.

Finite, closed system games (like all video games) do not do this. To build a world (as a Dungeon Master must) requires you to study geography, history, politics, philosophy, religion, economics, military warfare, agriculture...whatever!...all to varying degrees depending on what points you are emphasizing at the moment. Depending on what part of your imagination you need to expand for the requirements of your campaign.

And the exploration of the world (which is the part of the players) will expand their own imagination and understanding, even assuming they DON'T participate in outside research, because of the necessity of reacting to and meeting the challenges the Dungeon Master offers them.

I can't praise it enough. 

Closed system games don't offer this "mind expansion." Instead, they offer the opportunity for system mastery...board games, played enough, will evolve competent strategies, opening moves, specific tactical plays and functions that randomizers can only somewhat mitigate...in the end, one hopes for adequate opponents to offer challenge.  Understanding this, I see why a game like Magic: The Gathering maintains its popularity...it is endlessly evolving, endlessly offering NEW tweaks and forms of system to master. For the aficionado of competitive MTG play, any ennui is dispelled with each new series issue.

Old D&D, of the kind I play, does NOT evolve...au contraire, the more I tweak the rules, the more I end up going back to the tried and true default systems (more often than not). Instead, it is the PARTICIPANTS of the game (the DM, the players) who end up evolving. I am a different Dungeon Master today than I was a year ago, let alone three-four decades ago. Likewise, I'm a vastly different player (very much improved) than I once was. Very much improved...and loving it.

Tired of the rules? Tired of boring old D&D gaming? 

No, not at all. My interest and excitement only deepens the more I engage with it. Many long-lasting games have simple rules that are easy to master. It's important not to conflate "complexity" with "depth." The rules are simple so that they don't get in the way of the game. The game play is what makes D&D the King of Games. 

: )