O is for Originality

[over the course of the month of April, my plan was to post a topic for each letter of the alphabet, sequentially, every day of the week except Sunday. While I was unable to complete the project on time, I find I still have things to say. Our topic in question 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]

O is for Originality...something that is overrated within the so-called "Old School" community.

Not that this series is meant to slam the (mostly commercial) venture that is the OSR these days. But many of the new DMs coming to the AD&D game these days...or even old DMs returning to AD&D after decades of hiatus...are doing so by way of the Old School Revival that's rumbled along these last 17+ years. And in the commercial offerings that carry the "OSR" branding...specifically the for-purchase, pre-written adventure modules (of the kind that new and/or rusty DMs lean on to both inspire themselves and polish their chops), you find a particular type of pathology on display: the urgent need to add "original content" that never was to their offerings.

As if the game didn't offer enough content already.

I write quite a lot of adventures for use at my own table (both for my home campaign and for gaming conventions I attend). And when it comes to designing adventures, especially for convention play, I do not include "original content;" that is, I do not create "new, original" monsters, or magic items, or spells. Oh, you'll see some adventures I've penned for various writing contests that include one or two of these things (because they are elements of the contest), but these adventures don't see actual running at my table except when/if "play-testing." For my own campaign...and when demonstrating AD&D at cons...my adventures don't include anything you wouldn't normally find in the books...for a number of reasons:

1. The content already included in the books is (for the most part) tried and true and already tested within and against the (long-tested) rules of the game.
2. There is more content in the books than I have ever used in totality...which is to say, I've yet to use EVERY monster, or EVERY magic item, or EVERY magic spell over my 40+ years of gaming.
3. For purposes of playing (and "mastering") a game, players need a consistent structure within which to learn and hone their skills, not a rug that gets pulled out from under them with every new dungeon. As I wrote earlier, I am all for metagaming as it IMPROVES player engagement.

Thus, I have no need or desire for adding "original content" to my games...in fact (as per reason #3), I find original content can be detrimental to one's campaign if used in a less-than-judicious fashion.

And it's really not needed! Again, I will make use of a metaphor suggested to me by a DM of far more experience and wisdom than myself: AD&D can be compared to a piano. Consider the ubiquitous piano with its 88 keys...the industry "standard" since 1890. How many people have studied and learned and composed music on a piano over the years, challenging themselves and entertaining others? And how many of them have attempted to add "more keys" to the piano to make the thing "more original?" How many have said, man, these 88 keys aren't enough...there's just not enough sound here to make a decent song!

The idea is ridiculous, as anyone with the slightest  passing interest in music might tell you. And, yet, how many DMs are unsatisfied with the content of the core D&D books? How many have said that the 350+ monsters in the Monster Manual or the 300+ magic items in the Dungeon Masters Guide or the 400+ spells in the Players Handbook are insufficient for their crafting of adventures? Are you kidding me?

There is a TON you can do with the "limited" amount of content in the books: writing an adventure is much like composing a piece of music on a piano. And just as a piece of piano music can be played differently by different musicians (softly, loudly, quickly, slowly, jazzy, or arranged with other instruments, or whatever), a single adventure can be "interpreted" differently by different DMs...or run differently by the same DM on different occasions depending on the players involved.

Orcs aren't "boring." YOU are boring. What is needed is NUANCE, not novelty. Situationally, there are as many different ways to use orcs in your game as there are to use humans...these are intelligent (if imaginary) creatures after all. Consider all the way humans can differ...not just in form or function, but culturally.  I know that many of my fellow American look at all Latin American people as one big mass of brown-skinned, Spanish-speaking people (I know this as I was once one of those Americans) but it is so, so not the case. Even if you ignore the individual differences of individual Mexicans (for example), Mexicans are VERY different from Ecuadorians who are VERY different from Panamanians who are VERY different from Paraguayans who are VERY different from Brazilians who are VERY different from Argentinians or Chileans, etc., etc.. In fact, they are SO DIFFERENT from each other, that unless their country is right next to another they tend to know NOTHING about the differences they have...yeah they know the people there speak Spanish (and, perhaps, have a decent soccer team) but they are often completely ignorant when it comes to someone else's history, politics, customs, food, etc.

It's like the way MUCH of the western world thinks of Africa as one big, homogenous country with border lines drawn on it. There are THOUSANDS of different ethnic identities in Africa and wildly differing genetic diversity even amongst people who share the same color of skin. Would a westerner consider all white people to be one big group? Is a Dutchman really the same as a Sicilian? My Basque friends from Bilbao certainly don't consider themselves "Spanish" in any way, shape, or form. "Your Catalan is getting quite good" they tell me (in English). 

As an American I know there are huge differences of culture between our 50 States. Yes, there are plenty of similarities, but a Washingtonian is a LOT different from a Hawaiian or a Georgian or a New Yorker or a Texan. It's not just politics that divides my country: we are (and always have been) separated by regional and cultural identity, even if we've been united (for most of our history) by some rather singular and lofty ideals that...once upon a time...we all agreed on. But are we different? Do we vary? Hell yes! Even within my own State of Washington, there is a vast difference between the "island folk" of the San Juans and the hard drinking/snorting fisher folk and lumberjacks of the Olympic Peninsula and the multi-generational farmers of the Palouse and the military folks in Everett and the very complicated metro area that is Seattle. Seattle, itself, is large enough that different neighborhoods have their own cultural identity...we're not all elitist tech-savvy "Lib-tards." Far from it! I've lived here since I was born (in '73) and MOST of that time, Seattle was pretty darn "working class" and that's how a lot of us "long timers" still see ourselves. Besides, everyone knows the elitist, tech-money d-bags live in Bellevue.

[haha. I joke. Bellevue is full of wealthy Asians, duh]

The POINT is, just saying an orc is a 1 HD antagonist and that we need a blue-skinned version that explodes when you hit it or one that has feathered wings or an orc that shoots lasers from its eyes in order to "spice things up" is simply showing a profound LACK of imagination. And it's short-changing both your players (who are trying to master the system...something they can only do when there is consistency of application) and yourself (as a designer and Dungeon Master).  What? Are you afraid that if you start "humanizing" orcs (or goblins or lizard folk or giants, etc.) by giving them nuance and ethnical variety that you're going to somehow turn them into something the players don't want to kill and then there goes the game? Have you not noticed how many different motivations, excuses, and justifications humans have found to kill each other over the centuries? My cup runneth over!

Yes, I am well familiar with the classic TSR modules of early days of AD&D and how the MAJORITY of them (pre-'85, i.e. "the good years") would include a new monster or two. I would just point out the following for consideration: A) you almost never see new magic items or spells, things which (in my estimation) have the highest potential for unbalancing or "breaking" the game, B) many times these new monsters are unique encounters and/or thematically linked to the adventure (i.e. not likely to show up elsewhere in a campaign), C) compared to the MAJORITY of the monsters in a 30-60+ encounter area, one or two new critters are a pittance, and D) you generally do NOT see these shenanigans in adventures designed for introductory, low-level play (no new monsters in B1, B2, N1, N2, etc.). Players have to learn the ropes before you start serving up curve balls!

SO...to bring this entry to a summation and close: it is NOT a mark of "creativity" or "good Dungeon Mastery" to be adding new, unique content to your game. Anyone can do that; the Fiend Folio is an entire book filled with new creatures created by a wide swath of designers (more than 70). Pursuing "originality" (in terms of content) as a goal in and of itself isn't the best use of your time and energy as an adventure designer. In my estimation, you'll get far more value out of finding ways to use that which is already present in ways that are unusual, challenging, surprising, and in ways both deeper and more nuanced. Engage your players through good system use, rather than novelty. 

AD&D campaigns can last a long time and you can get a lot of mileage out of it as written. However, when it comes to the vehicle's actual components, there's still a lot of tread left on the tires; no need to change them out so soon!

; )

Restoring Sanity

You know, I mostly write these "Dear JB" posts to have some sort of "content" to post on Ye Old Blog, and because they're pretty darn easy to do: find someone who is suffering with their D&D (because they haven't been taught the proper way to play) and berate them/talk sense to them. Easy, easy blog fodder, which is good for a guy who's way too busy these days.

However, there's another reason why I write them: I have the feeling that there are SOME people who, despite being on the same page with Yours Truly, may be suffering through the same kinds of issues (to a greater or lesser degree), and I HOPE that those folks find something helpful in what I write. Something useful.

Because the sad fact is that a LOT of the gaming world, at least to judge by what's being written and video'd and podcasted about on-line, is INSANE these days. Modern D&D players are nuts. Their problems and issues are nuts...as in, they should not be happening and would not be happening if they took a different approach to the game.  If I was a better writer and not some nutty hack myself, I'd put out a nice, clear essay succinctly explaining the proper mindset to run D&D competently...but I'm not.

Fortunately, somebody else is.

If you're coming to this blog from a newer edition of the game...hell, if you didn't start playing D&D (or role-playing games) before 1983, you should probably read this essay. Just to make sure you have everything crystal clear in your head. It is, of course, POSSIBLE that you already play exactly as described...it is possible that you have developed a style over time that is, more-or-less, on the same page as what's been written here. But I'd still ask you to check it out...just in case.  

I've read it twice myself...it's not terribly long. And it perfectly describes my approach to the game. The approach my friends and I took to the game back when we played the thing for long hours in early and mid-1980s. The way I still approach the game. When Prince reviews my style of running, writing:

Becker runs a good game, and his unpretentious matter of fact style, relentless pacing and sparse description keeps the game going...I highly enjoyed watching Becker in action, the economy of long practice, the workmanlike but functional dungeons, the expedient calls and no nonsense brutality. This was a fun game....

My reaction (besides 'glad you had fun' and 'thanks for the kind words') is I'M JUST RUNNING THE GAME, MAN. That's it. It's really, Really, REALLY not performative.  As was said in Alexis's essay: that's just noise. People need not worry about the noise. Just worry about knowing how to use the rules.

It's not rocket science. It's not incredibly difficult or complex. It's just D&D.

Such a good essay. Does my job for me.

B is for Borders

I missed the April A-Z Blog Challenge this year, so I'm doing my own...in June. This year, I will be posting one post per day discussing my AD&D campaign, for the curious. Since 2020, this is the ONLY campaign I run. Enjoy!

B is for Borders...the borders of (my game) reality.

Probably I should have led with this...but then, "borders" doesn't begin with the letter "A," does it? Thing is, I have mentioned my campaign in passing (several times) over the last five years, so most people know that the setting for my world is the Pacific Northwest of our real world.

That's a very specific portion of our reality. Let me tell you how I got there.

A loooong ways back...long before I even started playing AD&D again...I decided that I was ready to run a serious campaign. What I like to call a perpetual campaign; that is: a campaign that is always "on," whether I have the luxury of playing in it or not, something that I pour all my world building creativity into when I can. And after reading many posts by the sharpest DMing mind on the internet, I figured that the smartest thing...the damn easiest thing...that I could do, would be to set the game in our Real World. Not only does our real world have all the benefits of actual geography, climate, history, etc. it's already mapped out (thanks Google Earth!) and all I have to do is overlay it with my own version of "reality."

This is not the most original idea in the world: plenty of people have used "the real world" as the basis of their fantasy world. Gygax's Oerth is a stretched version of North America. Martin's Westeross is just a greatly enlarged UK. Warhammer's Aulde World is just Europe by way of Tolkien. Etc. Even Mystara is pretty obviously a Pangea-like version of Earth. However, I knew I didn't want to do the entirety of our planet...way, waaay too much work. I just needed a small portion to use as my setting.

I chose South America.

To be fair, this was my first attempt at doing a "serious campaign" (well doing the "serious work" of an actual campaign)...it's only natural I'd make the mistake of biting off a LOT more than I could chew. And not just in terms of size (South America is huge!)...but in terms of history and culture and knowledge of fauna and flora and whatnot? I was just way over my skis. Dumb.

So after futzing around with that for a couple-few years (seriously...I first considered South America as a potential world setting in 2015 while still living in Paraguay and returned to the idea in 2019 when I was first deciding I needed a more "advanced" game), I finally gave up and did the "normal thing" of sketching out a vanilla "fantasy land" in which to set adventures, complete with dumb, pseudo-fantasy stuff like Lizard Cults and Purple Sorcerers. The usual, in other words...but that was back when I was still in the dumb-dumb phase of wavering between B/X and OD&D.

I would stick with dumb-dumb "nowhere land," until after I started playing 1E again (in 2020).

Then, sometime around the Spring of 2021, I was eating BBQ with my brother at the best place in the area for such things (Gabriel's Fire in Mountlake Terrace), and I saw a poster on the wall of the bathroom: an absolutely beautiful map of Northwest Washington State entitled The Evergreen Playground, published by the Kroll Map Company in 1994 (you can still buy a copy of this poster today). Beneath its title, it carries the following words:

Neither Europe nor Asia nor South America has a prospect in which sea and woods and snow mountains are so united in a landscape.

And just like that, my search for the perfect campaign world was over. It had been under my nose for decades, but I had simply failed to see it. 

Since then (March '21) I've been using Washington State and the surrounding area for ALL my gaming. My range has expanded considerably; it was (originally) focused on the area just east of the Cascades...Cle Elum and Ellensburg were the largest settlements I was interested in detailing, and other places (Seattle, Spokane) were "far off places," rife with rumor and legend. Now, though, my world has grown to encompass the entire state, plus Idaho, Oregon, northern California, western Montana, and (southern) British Columbia. Basically, the entire disputed (in the 1800s) territory west of the Louisiana Purchase, north of (formerly) Spanish Mexico, and south of (formerly) Russian Alaska.

I once thought such a region...roughly five-ish states in size...was "too small." That, like George Martin, I'd have to stretch and expand the area by double or treble, simply to give enough "space" to fit in everything I'd need or want in a D&D campaign: Huge mountain ranges. Vast plains. Unknowable forests, etc. 

As with "South America," I was being ridiculous. Actually, I was simply thinking like a 21st century human...a person who lives in a world of cars and automobiles, who can cross an entire state in a matter of hours, and who can fly to the other side of the world in less than a day. At that time (just four years ago! Four!) I hadn't put in much time reading up on the Lewis & Clark Expedition. I hadn't delved deeply into the adventure fiction of Lamb and Burroughs and Haggard. I didn't understand how a wilderness devoid of four lane highways and suspension bridges and airports is so treacherous that only the foolish, reckless, or heroic would dare to traverse it with little more than the supplies they could carry. 

Take away the Industrial Revolution and the railroads and there is a LOT of wilderness in my home state.

So much so that, for D&D purposes, I can't see myself ever exhausting the region. Not in my lifetime, anyway. I am currently writing this series of posts, providing an overview of my campaign setting and, while just barely scratching the surface, probably still represents ten times as much "travelogue" as I've ever written down about campaign.

Because, for the most part, I don't write it down. Most of it, I keep in my head. I have some scattered notes...mostly about populations. But it's just so much background text...so much background lore that I just keep in my noggin for when I write adventures and adventure scenarios. Which is the only thing that my players see, anyway...the only thing they care about. They don't give a rip about "lore." 

Where's the dungeon? Where's the treasure? How do we get it? That's what the players care about.

But for ME, the Dungeon Master, the world...my world...IS the thing I care about. It's the thing that gives me "juice." It's what provides me with context for creating adventures. And having this lovely, lovely patch of planet earth, chock full of mountains and forests and deserts and ocean, provides the perfect plate on which to lavish an exquisite dish to serve my players. I can put Pax Tharkas (from DL2) in the shade of the Cascades, because I know where the gold is/was mined from the mountains. I can stash the lich's stronghold at the best spot on the Fraser river, because I know where it becomes impossible to move upstream by boat. I can seed towns and settlements throughout the region and determine population density because I can research where and why actual communities congregated, and make pronouncements about their local produce and industry.

The Pac Northwest has a lot going for it...and a lot going on. It also...today, in the 21st century...has huge sections of unexplored wilderness perfect for lairs and monsters and places that a D&D party would want to explore. 

I love it. 

As for what lies outside the borders of my world? Nothing...nothing at all. "Death" is what I imagine, but more likely just miles and miles of inhospitable, impenetrable, landscapes. Radioactive wastelands. Frozen tundra. Barren Deserts. Unending oceans. It doesn't much matter. No one knows...certainly not the NPCs my players encounter. Because I don't know; nor do I care. Because there's plenty going on right here, thank you very much. It's already packed with adventure.

My world has borders. It's a game. The map is the board. Play occurs on the board, not off.

Consistent Competence

I don't have a post for today (though I am up to "E" in my June posts), but instead will direct my readers over to the Tao's most recent...and excellent...post:

We Don't Learn From Our Mistakes

Anyway...it's a good read. Happy Wednesday people!

: )

Alexis

Hope folks had an enjoyable Memorial Day weekend. Mine was chock-full (as long weekends tend to be with wife and kids)...so much so that I spent most of yesterday just "catching up" on things.

As such, I haven't taken the time to mention my meeting with Alexis Smolensk last Friday...and darn it, he beat me to the punch, despite having to drive back across the country!

So.

It's funny, this day and age we live in. I've "known" Alexis...emailed with him, done podcasts with him, blogged about him, even (briefly) participated in his on-line game...for close to fifteen years. Longer than my children have been alive. And, yet, this is the first time I've had the chance to meet the man, the myth, the legend (I'm sure he would laugh at that appellation). He and his partner were out on the west coast, and so (flattering, this is) took the time to drive down from Vancouver. Just to shake my hand and buy me a beer.  

Touching...though I'm sure I'd have done the same if (for God knows what reason) I was driving through the frozen wilderness of Alberta.

[I mean, I suppose I could cut up there from Montana, one of these summers but there's a DAMN GLACIER between Kalispell and the Canadian border. Jeez...]

I digress. It was fun. He had wanted to meet my family, and I arranged dinner reservations for the six of us, but in the eleventh hour we (mutually) decided our time would be better spent just hanging out and "talking shop." Which we did, whiling away a perfectly grey and drizzly Seattle afternoon in a run-down, nautically-themed dive bar in the heart of Lynnwood's strip mall sprawl. 

No, this was not The Baranoff...we were at the far more creatively named "Pub 44." Um...let's see if I can get a good screen shot:

Not pictured: dark, cramped interior, pool tables,
rotting dinghy hanging from ceiling.

Pretty much perfect, in other words.

Alexis and I spent the better part of 4ish hours, hanging and talking. A lot of talk about writing, publishing, and blogging. Stuff about D&D. Patreon. Some stuff about generational divides. Some personal stuff. 

Mainly, though, we just spent the time getting to know each other...these two people who have never met or interacted in a physical space together. Trying to gauge the differences between our "on-line personas" and who these real human beings are. Sizing each other up, conscious of being judged by the other, and yet trying to be as authentic as comfortable, out of the mutual respect we share for each other.

It was odd. But fortunately, it's a dance we've both been through...mine most recently at last year's Cauldron convention, when I had the chance to meet and interact with folks like Prince and Melan and Settembrini and Raggi. People who have put so much of their soul's out over the ether-webs...both in writings and podcasts. Does the "real person" bear any resemblance to the "virtual person?" One can only tell by actually encountering the human behind the screen.

So...probably should write my impressions of Alexis the man (as opposed to "Alexis the writer" or "Alexis the DM"). I'm sure he, at least, is curious of my thoughts after our meeting.

I think that...some...folks would be surprised. For a guy 10 years my senior (I'm 50, folks) who'd just spent several days on the road (and just got into town a couple hours before we me), Alexis comes across as a vibrant, energetic man of middle years. "Animated" isn't the correct word to describe him...it implies (for me, at least) "hyperactive" and there wasn't anything "hyper" about him, though he does gesture more than I do. The word I want to use is "galvanized"...the man has an inner fire and verve (?) to him. Even relaxing in a booth, drinking beer, talking in leisurely fashion, he gives the impression of being fully engaged. 

Bright eyes. There is an intelligence behind them that is neither lazy nor slothful.

Alexis is very, very observant. Extremely so, scarily so. There were times (once or twice) when I could tell, based on what he said, that he had been carefully observing me...not just my words, but my non-verbal cues. Like a parlor trick that gives the illusion of reading someone's mind. It seemed obvious (to me) that he wasn't doing this purposefully, to disconcert me and was, in fact, holding back...not drawing attention to what he was doing...in order to not disconcert me. I appreciated (and still appreciate) that. But I did notice...just as I noticed we were both somewhat selective in what we chose to discuss with each other. "Safe" subjects (or subjects we assumed were safe). As you do, with someone you just met.

Even someone with whom you feel a great affinity.

Physically, Alexis is about my height, perhaps a smidge taller, but very thick, in comparison. Trim enough, for a man his age (he's been exercising lately, for health reasons). Grey hair, medium-long, pulled back in a (small) ponytail. Clean-shaven (note to self: if the hair goes grey, you look a lot younger without a Gandalf beard). Glasses that don't hide those intelligent eyes.

But not an intimidating man. He is warm, not fiery. Friendly. He is a grandfather, a teddy bear.. Admits to being a hugger; he is tender and considerate of his partner. He is self-effacing. He talks about being old...but only as a point of fact, not as a nostalgic, "get off my lawn" curmudgeon. Alexis is a progressive; he is a futurist (at least, in comparison to me) or, more accurately, a realist. He embraces the usefulness of technology. He seems to despise only uselessness and ignorance, though he has little time or patience for institutions that have (in his opinion) reached obsolescence. 

He loves D&D. He is an unabashed, unashamed, unafraid D&D nerd. From long habit, I tend to hide my nerdiness under a veneer of "normalcy," unless and until the subject is brought up. Alexis does not. Telling the bartender or barista he's a DM that teaches people how to play D&D comes as readily to his banter as saying he's just visiting from Canada. He is what he is. And he loves it. He lives it.

[second note to self: you can grow up without growing old. Better than the other way 'round]

It was a good time. We both, I believe, got something of the measure of each other. We were able to connect on a level that was personal, not just electronic. And because of that, I think our respect for each other has deepened. I know mine has. It was a good meeting. I'm glad we were able to do it.

Anyway. I would be remiss if I didn't say at least something about my admiration for Alexis. How much I appreciate the impact he's had on my gaming hobby. It was nice to meet someone for whom you have admiration and come away NOT being disappointed. That doesn't always happen. It was also ESPECIALLY nice that he had some kind words to say about my writing...I had really not expected that. 

And that's about all I want to say. Except this: I scratched on the eight ball in our FIRST game of pool, and I left you with four balls on the table in our second. Come on, Old Man, your memory starts slipping after two beers? Jeez!

; )

Action

My recent posts about writing "How to GM" help-books touched off a flurry of posts over at The Tao of D&D...which is great for a number of reasons. First off, Alexis is sharp as hell and brings a lot of good insight/knowledge to the discussion (and being a seasoned D&D ref, it's generally practical knowledge). Second off, he's a great writer and his posts are often entertaining to read. 

Third off, he also gives me ideas to riff off. This post is one of those. Alexis writes:

If you ask what "story" does for actual gameplay, you may find yourself in a conversation with someone fervently explaining that story provides "a structured overarching narrative or series of interconnected scenarios and encounters that serves to facilitate gameplay by providing the context and information necessary for players to make informed decisions and take meaningful actions within the game world." Except that it doesn't. The DM, without telling anything like a story, describes a set of circumstances that the players see in the immediate here and now, that they're free to make a decision about. No "overarching narrative" is in anyway necessary to this; in fact, it's detrimental the player's freedom to make immediate choices, as they've been primed in advance to acknowledge and prostrate themselves to a narrative that the DM invented, or the company invented, or some writer invented, but certainly not that the players themselves invented.

Game play works in a specific manner. The DM provides immediate context of what the player characters' senses tell them. The players make a MOVE. This produces a response from the DM, describing what has changed in the immediate context due to the players' move. Then the players move again. This goes on indefinitely.

The reasons why a player moves, or what motivates them, or the fact that the may collaborate first before moving, is irrelevant to the ACTION of the game. The notion that players need a "story" to captivate their interest, or draw them into the game world, because it provides context for their actions, is SALES JARGON. The argument that the story gives the players clear goals, objectives and challenges to pursue, motivating them as a driving force for game play, is SALES JARGON. These phrases sound terrific and encouraging, but since no definition is ever provided that explains how these things motivate or engage the players, it's just so much blubblesput.

Or, as he summarizes more succinctly at the end of the essay:

...the ongoing description provided by the DM serves as the immediate backdrop for gameplay, providing the players with the information they need to make their moves and decisions. This description includes details about the environment, characters and events that are directly relevant to the current situation and the players' interactions.

The essence of gameplay lies in the dynamic exchange between players making moves and the DM responding. Extraneous detail beyond the immediate circumstances is not essential to gameplay itself. 

Gameplay in D&D has nothing to do with "creating stories" (yes, yes...a point ol' JB has attempted to make many times over the last few years)...it is about taking action, and experiencing the fruits (and consequences) of that action. The world built by the DM is the thing that provides opportunities for action...one of the reasons ol' JB is always harping on world building, since (duh) insufficient work by the DM is going to end up curtailing and/or stunting action.

And players want action.

It makes me wonder just how many people out there playing this modern, new-fangled D&D are really, truly satisfied with the game play. I mean, other than the actors on live-streamed shows that are getting paid to perform (that is, I assume and hope they are being paid...actors have to eat, too!). But the normal shmoes (like me), sitting around a table, playing 5E...how many of them are truly satisfied with a game experience that consists of sticking to a plot, or exploring their character's "story arc," or posturing and improvising dialogue, and rolling dice only to determine how effective their posturing and dialogue was on swinging the opinion of the guardsman at the gate or whatever.  How many 5E players are simply going through the motions, jonesing for ANY opportunity to make a die roll, and (perhaps) wish they were brave enough to stand up and say "the emperor has no clothes!" or (in this case) "this game sucks!"

My wife and daughter have been in Mexico this last week, visiting family, while the boy and I have been 'batchin it.' No D&D play, but we played Space Hulk, Axis & Allies (Global), Blood Bowl Team Manager, went golfing, played pickleball, went bowling, shot pool, did a trivia night at a local pub, and (of course) did all the practices...soccer (his) and volleyball (ours). It's been a fine vacation for both of us...an active vacation. Oh, we've sat around and watched some movies, too, but only at night and we both (usually) would fall asleep on the couch, tuckered after a long day.

Action. Play. This is what a kid wants. And buried under all the responsibilities and worries that come with adulthood, that's what our inner kid wants as well...certainly those geezer gamers like myself that enjoy (or want to enjoy) playing D&D. Why are dungeons so easy to run? Because they provide direct, immediate opportunities for action. Players LOVE dungeons. The bitch and moan if there isn't one on the immediate horizon...in general, most players aren't self-motivated enough to execute bold schemes on their own...they'd rather go down a hole with torches and ropes and risk certain death for a bagful of treasure.

And, perhaps, this was the original impetus for giving characters "backstories" and personalities prior to play...to provide some motivation or impetus for action OUTSIDE of jus throwing down a new dungeon. That is, admittedly, how my group used them in the days of our youth...even though we played 1E. When we rolled up our multitudes of characters...generally away from the table...we'd assign them personalities and backgrounds, crafted mainly from a combo of race, class, secondary skill, and social class (that's from the Unearthed Arcana, folks...). I mean, if the character was going to be an NPC anyway, the DMG had random tables for generating personalities, too.  But we used these motivating backgrounds as an impetus to action in a developed setting (our own) that provided little in the way of traditional "dungeons." Our fantasy world, developed over years of play, was a more interesting environment for exploration than another hole in the ground. 

[examples: here's a character whose ex-spouse lives in this town...we want to go the opposite way. Here's a character whose father was a mean, abusive a-hole...but also the general of the army...let's avoid that territory. This guy was trained as an assassin...his guild is in town X, and whether or not we're showing up depends on his standing with the guild, etc.]

But for the most part, even then we didn't make much use of them...that is to say, "exploration of character" was not really on the agenda. The agenda was ACTION...whether in a town, or a lonely road, or in the occasional (few and far between) dungeon sites we were able to discover. Fighting, stealing, wheeling, dealing...and then (more often than not) running from the consequences of our trouble-making. When the DM(s) HAS an established, developed world but LACKS a story arc or plot that they're following, THEN players are free to do what they want in the game world. Assuming CONSEQUENCES EXIST; otherwise their actions are...literally...inconsequential, and the players lose interest (and respect!) for the game being played.

Players want action and...AT FIRST...they will want (and need) directed action. They will want a dungeon to explore, to give their characters...and the world!...a "test-drive." And after their first dungeon adventure, they'll (probably) want another, and a juicy hook or treasure map will lead them out into the (game) world. And then, perhaps, a third dungeon...a bit harder or trickier to find then either of the first two, but also Very Dangerous & Rewarding. And the fourth is even harder to discover than the third...

And the whole time, you (the DM) will be crafting a world around the players (because dungeons are simple enough to run, especially if you simply adapt premade adventures). You'll be establishing local politics and economies and situations for the players to get embroiled in. You'll be sketching out NPCs that become established personalities in your campaign: the patriarch that's always getting tasked with raising characters from the dead, the wizard/sage who can identify their magical items, the tax collector whose always showing up at inopportune times to skim the cut for the local lord, the various inns (and innkeepers) along the road where PCs stay when out on safari, the locals in the town where they buy houses and set up their base of operations, the thief or jewel merchant (or both) who they use as a fence for their loot, the wandering ranger or paladin who they run into time and again who provides them with news of "the realm" and occasional aid (as necessary), the crazy druid who knows the local wilderness like the back of his hand and is a useful font of advice on the region, etc., etc. 

And as you build your world and the (imaginary) people in it, the players will come to care more and more about IT and less and less about being directed in their action. As the actions they take begin to have consequential impact on the world, they will be motivated to make MORE impact, to take their own actions: establishing domains, crafting artifacts, establishing cults and guilds, raising armies, seeking immortality, whatever. Heck, you want to know how romance gets introduced into your campaign? First allow the PCs to obtain some lands and a title, and then suggest that they have no heir(s) to whom they can leave their legacy...just watch them then start seeking out eligible suitors/brides in the region!

[not every player is interested in seeking out lichdom, you know?]

I am not...and never have been...a big proponent of the "tent-pole, mega-dungeon" concept of D&D play. That is certainly ONE way to ensure that the players get plenty of visceral action, but the action presented is fairly narrow in scope and cannot take advantage of ALL that D&D has to offer...at least, not without the cost of verisimilitude (which leads to lack of respect / lack of engagement of the players and, eventually, sabotage of your campaign). But there is no doubt in my mind that dungeons ARE the best ways to introduce players to the concepts of being active and taking action in the game world...something they desperately want and need for the game to be successful. 

Everything else is just color.

Okay, more later. Have a good weekend, folks.

: )

When The Student Is Ready....

This afternoon's blog post prompted DM Escritoire to make the following comment:

I love it when one of the good guys goes off. Alexis was similarly inclined earlier this week.

Which, of course sent me over to the good Mr. Smolensk's blog to catch up on the last few posts I've missed (busy life...same old, same old). Here's what I read:

This is why I haven't written of late. Not because this shit is just recently out here, but because I've reached a point where the thing that I love, the thing that I have a passion for, has become the only thing for which the internet is a complete waste of my time. I don't know, maybe there are home renovators in the world who can no longer watch home renovation videos, or read home renovation books. Maybe there are knitting fanatics who would rather cut their throats before reading one more "Knitworld" magazine or watch one more amateur drop a stitch. Maybe that's how it is for other people. I don't know. I've done an awful lot of cooking. I'm not the greatest cook in the world; I don't think I'm the greatest DM either. Then again, I can watch a cooking video. I can still enjoy watching someone cut a watermelon into odd shapes. 

But I cannot watch another fucking video about D&D. Of any kind. I can't listen to anybody for more than about 20 seconds. I just want to scream.

There is more...much more. But mainly Alexis is simply giving voice to frustration...a frustration that I think (if I grok what he's writing) that I share. It is the same frustration that led me to pick up that stupid book in the game store Wednesday...the book of idiotic essays that set my teeth on edge and made me decide to write my own frigging "How To" book.

It's the frustration of wanting more knowledge about a thing (in this case, Dungeons & Dragons) and searching in vain for anything...any drop...at all. And finding nothing. Just...nothing. 

Because I've reached a point now,  in my life, in my calling (and please let me be clear: it is a Calling, I have accepted this, it is my calling to be a Dungeon Master, for whatever reason) where I know more about this game than all but a handful of people on this planet. A bold statement, an arrogant statement...but I'm pretty fucking convinced it's accurate. 

And I'm not even a great DM! When Alexis wrote:

I'm not the greatest cook in the world; I don't think I'm the greatest DM either.

It nearly echoed my planned introduction for the guide book:

"I do not profess to be a great DM; I simply admit to being a competent DM."

Competent. That's it. That's all I am. Google define's the word as:

"having the necessary ability, knowledge, or skill to do something successfully"

That's it. I'm a competent Dungeon Master. I won't even profess expertise in other RPGs. Just D&D.

With regard to competence, I am not alone. There are a LOT of competent DMs out there...though probably not nearly as many as there should be...and I am one of them. And I am proud of that.

But when I say that my knowledge of this game exceeds that of all but a few people on this planet, I'm not talking about mere competence in the doing of something. I am a seeker: a seeker of knowledge, a seeker of more than the simple understanding of "how to be a DM." I want to know as much about this game as I can...I am constantly searching for new information, new understanding, new "stuff" to fill in the gaps and cracks of my comprehension.

And...there's just not that much out there. Not much that I haven't already pursued, purloined, and integrated. 

That's what I'm running up against; that's my frustration that (I think) matches, at least in part, something like what Alexis expresses. There's nothing more (or very, very little). I am a thirsty man unable to slake his parched throat...because my cup is already full.

It is time for me to stop searching for knowledge. I already have enough knowledge.

NOW, all that's left is to teach, to coach, to share what I know. Which I've already been doing...just informally. That's...small change. Small stakes. Not putting myself out there. Not submitting myself to true judgment and ridicule. 

To put it another way:

The apprentice is learning competence.

The journeyman has demonstrated competence.

The master can teach competence.

I have not yet (so far as I'm aware) taught ANYONE how to be a competent Dungeon Master. Not even my own children. I am not...in my own estimation...a "master" DM; only a journeyman. Only a competent one. Which is still pretty groovy...I get to run solid D&D!...but I am Called to do more.

So silly. It's just a game. 

But what a game!

In other news: the Seattle Mariners dropped their opening day game to a TERRIBLE Boston Red Sox team tonight, 6-4, going 8 for 34 and drawing only one walk. Garbage. Per my usual tradition of the last couple years, I will refuse to wear any M's gear until they are above .500...maybe by Easter Sunday? We'll just have to see.

Marketing

I am too exhausted (after yesterday) and too pressed for time (the soccer begins again...in about one hour), to write my own blog post today, so instead I'll direct my readers' attention to this great post over at The Tao of D&D. It's absolutely amazing...definitely worth a few moments of your time...and, well, amazing.

[haha...that last sentence is a joke for Alexis]

; )

It's a riff off my own recent post about teaching D&D to others (and how that's done), and Alexis ably points out some of the issues that crop up when you start skipping down that path. Check it out.

Happy Friday, folks!

Full Circle

Yesterday, Maceo (another elvish assassin) was able to rejoin our campaign for a four-hour session (one more backpack to fill with loot!)...surprisingly, we were able to get him to join rather plausibly by simply having him follow the trail of bodies and destruction through the castle (we said his character had slept till noon and hadn't got up to the place till 2) all the way to the belfry/treasure chamber. Even more surprisingly, they decided to continue their explorations, eventually defeating three harpies (elvish blood), a flock of blood hawks, a nest of 37ish giant rats, a 5th level illusionist (color spray!), and a mother-f'ing banshee. The clock has just struck 5pm, there is four hours of daylight left, and the party keeps trudging up to tower roofs in their search for the Countess, figuring a vampire must be sleeping upside down somewhere like a giant bat.

*sigh* This is what comes from children not being allowed to watch vampire movies anymore. At least both Mace and Diego leveled up (4th and 5th respectively). Everyone is still alive, but the ranger was driven hopelessly insane following his perusal of a libram of ineffable evil. So it goes.

A couple folks (most recently Stacktrace) have brought up the the subject of my transition from being one of the "leading proponents" of the B/X system of D&D to now being chest-deep in AD&D. Since I've got a couple-four hours to spare, I figured I'd take the time to chronicle my personal history (as best I can) for readers interested in "the Evolution of JB." Not sure that's really enough time, but here goes:

Circa 1981 (age 8, 2nd grade): while at a Fred Meyer store, I see the Dungeon! board game on display and plead with my mother to buy it, citing the fact that it says its for children of 8+ years and I am old enough. Surprisingly, she does so (a fact that surprises me to this day: my mother was never one to cave to a begging/pleading child back in the day). I am somewhat disappointed by what I find inside...I had intended to purchase Dungeons & Dragons having already learned of this game from the playground at my school (and being, by this time, familiar with the terms "class," "fighter," "magic-user," "assassin," "magic missile," "Demogorgon," and "Blackrazor"). Still, the game provides an education into the very rudiments of D&D concepts (dungeons, monsters, treasure, secret doors, expendable spells, green slime, etc.). It contains a pair of green, plastic D6s with numbers etched on them (instead of dots)...the first I've ever seen. I still own this game today...my children have played it extensively.

Circa 1982 (age 8 or 9, 3rd grade): I discover the Moldvay edited Basic D&D box set at J.C. Penny in the toy section, and (again) talk my mother into acquiring it, perhaps explaining that this was the game I originally sought out. Again (surprisingly) this works, though this may have been in November and the idea was that this would be a birthday present for Yours Truly. I have detailed my delight and discovery of the wonders of this set in other blog posts. I read it cover-to-cover, struggle with the module, and instead create my own "dungeon" (a castle map, no doubt based on B2's Keep, that players must besiege).

Shortly Thereafter: my parents host a caucus at our house for local Democrats. I am upstairs in my room running my adventure for my younger brother. One Dem has brought her daughter, Jocelyn (a year older than myself) to the caucus, and my mother asks if she can join our game. I give her a halfling to play. When it is time for her to finally leave, my brother has been killed two or three times, and Jocelyn has infiltrated the castle, avoided all guards and is making for the castle treasury/armory. This is my introduction to a girl who will become my best friend, later co-DM.

3rd grade: I play D&D mainly with my brother and my best friend, Jason. Jason runs a thief named Sneakshadow. Jason is good friends with Scott (they both have single parents...moms...so they share time with each other). Jason's mom is our soccer coach.

Summer of 1983: I meet Matt during the summer during Little League baseball.

1983 (4th Grade): Matt has joined our school; we become friends. Circa November, I receive the Cook/Marsh Expert set, probably as a birthday gift. At a sleepover at Matt's house (I can pinpoint this to December, as I remember watching the Eurythmics video "Here Comes the Rain Again" on MTV), we make him a high level cleric to try the Expert set rules (giving him fanatic followers and sending him into the desert on a quest to find a blue dragon). Matt owns the Dark Tower board game, which I play long into the night after everyone else has gone to sleep. He also has a vinyl album with Conan the Barbarian stories. In later years, we will dive deep into his older brother's stack of Heavy Metal magazines and share a love of Thieves World books.

December 1983: Jocelyn gets me the AD&D Monster Manual as a Christmas gift. It is incorporated into our games, though a lot of it is difficult to parse as we are still using B/X as our rule base.

1984: We play D&D. Sometime in this year, Jocelyn discovers a copy of the DMG at the bottom of chest of old stuff belonging to her youngest brother Lacey (11 years her senior). I am allowed to borrow it on occasion...much of it is difficult to parse or completely alien. However, we begin to use the combat matrices (which seem to line up with the MM) and incorporate the expansive magic item list, especially the artifacts and relics. Some of the effects are waaay over my head (satyriasis? nymphomania?) but sex-change magic is always good for a laugh when your players include both boys and girls. Jocelyn's character, Bladehawk, has become the premier fighter of the campaign and is legendary for escaping death traps. At Jocelyn's home I run a game for four(?) players including my brother, Jocelyn, Jason (I think) and Jocelyn's friend Brian Hackett. Brian has a high level cleric with the blade barrier spell (also a hammer of thunderbolts) which, because we cannot find it in my rulebooks, I disallow. Years later, I will encounter Brian in high school (he was a junior when I was a freshman) and he will remember me respectfully as "The Dungeon Master."

Fall of 1984 (age 10, 5th grade): at soccer practice, Matt brings me a copy of N1: Against the Cult of the Reptile God, asking if I can run it for our group. While at first I am put off by the low-level of the adventure (our B/X characters have reached lofty heights), I begin to notice various strains of weirdness in the adventure: single class elves, "longswords," "ring mail," etc. Reading the cover ("for ADVANCED D&D game") and seeing the level range (1st to 3rd) it finally dawns on me that "Advanced" does not equate to "Expert" and that the MM and DMG must be for this other, mystery game. The key turns in the lock, the veil falls from our eyes, and all is revealed.

The start of 
my AD&D career.

November 1984 (age 11, 5th grade): I receive a copy of the AD&D Players Handbook for my birthday, the only thing I wanted. Now, with my copy of the MM and Jocelyn's copy of the DMG, we can begin playing proper AD&D. I make a high level magic-user character for my (now) friend Scott, both to make use of the new rules (intelligence factor! new spells!) and to put him on par with other long-running PCs Bladehawk, Sneakshadow, and Sunstarr (Matt's cleric). His wizard is named Lucky Drake after a character in a Choose Your Own Adventure book. This will be the core of our group for the next several years.

[EDIT: I now believe that the PHB was a Christmas gift, not a birthday  gift. I still believe I received my first DMG slightly later]

December 1984/Winter 1985: my aunt's boyfriend, a DragonQuest player, gifts me with my very own AD&D Dungeon Masters Guide. No longer forced to borrow Jocelyn's (as she doesn't attend the same school as the rest of us, I don't see her often enough), I can delve the thing and really learn the rules.

Winter 1985: Matt picks up a copy of AD&D Deities & Demigods (cleric guy, remember?) and we immediately incorporate it into our game. Sneakshadow fights Thor and kills him.

Spring of 1985: I discover the appendices in the back of the PHB after trying to figure out references to the psionics and bards in the DMG combat tables (previously I hadn't finished reading my PHB as I assumed it was just "all spells" after the mid-point). I immediately make my own character: a half-elf bard with psionics named Landon Weiguard. I show him to Jocelyn. Jocelyn expresses interest in doing some DMing.

Circa Fall of 1985 (age 11, 6th grade): Jason leaves our school. In addition, his family become Born Again Christians and his mother no longer allows him to play D&D. I see him only a handful of times after this. Jocelyn and I decide to blow up our original campaign and re-start the whole thing (all 1st level characters!) as strictly AD&D. She and I alternate as Dungeon Masters. 

November 1985 (age 12): my brother gives me the Unearthed Arcana for my 12th birthday. Jocelyn already has her copy (and incorporated comeliness and all the rest into our new campaign). I believe I receive my copy of Legends & Lore in December, perhaps as a Christmas gift. This will be the bulk of our "canon" going forward, only occasionally adding bits here-and-there from Dragon magazine or the Mentzer Companion set (which Jocelyn owned). 

1985 to 1988: we play AD&D. DMing duty is split between Jocelyn and myself. When I run, I tend to run AD&D adventure modules, rather than original material. Jocelyn runs a couple pre-packaged adventures including (Ravenloft...though I wasn't present for that) and Castle Greyhawk. At some point we re-boot the campaign a second time (we now distinguish "eras" of play by campaign: the Original Campaign, the First (AD&D) Campaign, and the New Campaign), again beginning characters at 1st level. When we do this, we use the World of Greyhawk map, but add our own material (factions, politics, etc.). We have some DragonLance modules (we are fans of the novels) but only use them for the maps, judging the adventures themselves to be "terrible." As time goes on, Jocelyn does more of the heavy lifting of campaign management...I am (mostly) content to just play. We also venture into other RPGs: we play Marvel extensively, BattleTech, some Star Frontiers. We dabble in James Bond and Twilight 2000; get our first taste of Warhammer 40,000 (the book...none of us acquire minis). AD&D remains our main game, however.

Spring/Summer 1988 (age 14): Jocelyn and I have a falling out. Kids fall out with each other: that's a part of life. Often times, over the years, Jason or Scott or Matt would be "on the outs" with the group, but we would always (eventually, somehow) bring 'em back into the fold. As we were transitioning to high school (the boys...Jocelyn at 15 and already in high school) I was the one that got kicked...and the group never recovered. We all ended up at different high schools, going separate ways.

1988-1991 (high school): I make new friends, some of whom play AD&D. I do not play AD&D with them...instead I play Palladium games (Heroes Unlimited, TMNT, Rifts), Stormbringer, or (later) Vampire the Masquerade. I still collect old AD&D modules when I find them, including White Plume Mountain and Against the Giants. For about a year, I run my brother and his best friend Brandon in an AD&D campaign, up till about level 12. I do this mostly to try modules I've never previously run (including the Desert of Desolation series I3, I4, and I5) and to try re-capturing the magic of my earlier campaigns. It doesn't work and I quit playing AD&D.

1991-1995 (university): I do some gaming, mostly White Wolf stuff (Vampire, Werewolf, Mage, Ars Magica 3E). Towards the end of university, one of my buddies (Joel) suggests we start up an AD&D campaign; I agree only on the condition that it is 1st edition, none of this crap 2E stuff. While he consents, nothing ever comes of the conversation (no chargen, nothing).

1996 (after graduation): while living with a non-gamer girlfriend, I get heavy into WH40K. Fact is, our relationship was heading south (it would be very up-and-down for another year, up through 10/1997) and getting into some kind of gaming felt necessary for my sanity. A game shop close to our apartment ran 40K tournaments. We would break up (and I moved out) before she moved to New Mexico for grad school.

1997-1999: no real gaming, though I meet some guys (Kris, James, Alex) who played D&D in their youth. In 1998 I will run an aborted session or two, and play in James's (single session) attempt to start a 2E game. All of these ended in disaster. The weed probably didn't help.

March 1998: I meet my wife. Having grown up in Mexico, she has never heard of D&D before meeting me.

2000-2002: 3E is released. I acquire copies and run some games, mainly for my friend Kris and a couple randoms whose names escape me. By 2002, I am done. I am still collecting BECMI edition D&D (the Mentzer sets, the Mystara Gazetteers, the Rules Cyclopedia, Wrath of the Immortals) feeling it is the most "complete" version of D&D. I do a lot of solo stuff with it. In 2007 some stuff I wrote about the Greek Gods will get uploaded to Vault of Pandius. Mostly, I end up finding the BECMI edition to be (both) too staid and too childish for my tastes.

2003-2007: sometime in this period, I make the acquaintance of The Forge and indie gaming and start studying game design. I get the idea to write the Great American Indie RPG (trademark pending!). This is all crap, but it starts me down the road of taking RPGs (and my love of them) more seriously. I do not play D&D during this period, though I collect and read a LOT of other RPGs. As far as I can recall, I didn't play any RPGs at this time (some light indie stuff...Capes, InSpectres...with my nephews perhaps). Sometime towards the end of this period, a person posts an Actual Play report on The Forge about how they tried playing an old game of Basic D&D "by the book" and it was actually fun.

Circa 2008: While reading an interview with indie-game designer Kenneth Hite, I am made aware of James Maliszewski's Grognardia and fall down the rabbit hole of Old School D&D blogs. This leads me to a number of sites, the most influential of which is Pat Armstrong's Ode to Black Dougal. Having the fires of nostalgia stoked by memories of my first RPG, I decide to go "back to the beginning," where my love for the hobby first started.

June 2009: I write down a quick list of 100 possible blog posts (to make sure I can generate content) and start the B/X Blackrazor blog. 

2009-2011: I play B/X D&D regularly, mostly off-line (face-to-face), sometimes running up to nine or ten players at my local bar. This three year period more-or-less matches the time I spent playing B/X at the beginning of my gaming career (1983-1985). I write (B/X) books during this time that are still selling today.

January 19th, 2011: my son Diego is born.

2012: I start developing other games: Cry Dark Future (2012), Five Ancient Kingdoms (2013), various indie type games and other genre games using the B/X Chassis. At the time, if I'd been asked, I probably would have said I was showing the versatility of the game (or writing my own fantasy heartbreaker with regard to 5AK). However, I now believe I was beginning to run up against the limitations of the B/X system...I was growing bored. And I was becoming tired of writing my own "support" for the system.

2013-2016: I am in Paraguay until August 2016. During this time, I do not play D&D.  I reflect on it, read about it, blog about it, work on a couple different "new" heartbreakers. There was a lot going on for me (mentally, emotionally) and my gaming thoughts were pretty random. A lot of good reading on the subject of D&D care of Alexis's books...but I had difficulty grokking some of the concepts he was trying to communicate.

April 21st, 2014: my daughter Sofia is born.

2016-2018: no gaming. Back from Paraguay but too busy with new children in a new school and transitioning to that "stay-at-home-American-dad-thing." Blog posts from this time are depressing...reading through a couple makes me think of a dude who is in need of help but doesn't know how to cry for help because he is unaware of how helpless he is. The blog was treading water just to assuage the ego with "relevance." Ugh. 

August 2019 (age 45): I hit rock bottom while attending a Dragonflight Convention; a convention at which I had the opportunity to play four Basic (three B/X!) game sessions with four different DMs. I was done with B/X as my "go-to-game-of-choice." It is still...and always will be...a fine teaching tool for learning the basics of Dungeons & Dragons.

Circa August 2019: I discover Anthony Huso's blog.

Circa 2019-2020: I discover (and start tuning into) the rather amusing GrogTalk podcast. Because they moderate their language, I sometimes listen to the podcast with my son (especially when it's just the two of us on long soccer drives). 

October 2019: I decide that the only way I will ever be satisfied with D&D again is to commit myself wholeheartedly to running a campaign, rather than one-off sessions. Just like I hadn't done since the age of 17.

February 2020 (age 46): I run my children through their first B/X adventure.

March 2020: the COVID 19 pandemic hits in full force. Schools (and most everything else) close down.

April 2020: I decide to go back to the LBBs and play OD&D with my kids, feeling I can simply add to the game (from supplements, house rules, etc.) whatever is needed for the campaign. At this point, I still feel "tinkering with rules" is the thing that will get me to the game I wanted. Ridiculous. This lasted a month or so before I shut it down. I play no D&D for the next six months.

November 2020 (age 47): I begin running AD&D for my children, teaching them the Advanced game.

February 2021: Taking advantage of a Total Party Kill, I start the AD&D campaign over from scratch using Washington State (and the Pac Northwest generally) as my campaign setting. My world has been in existence for 17 months now...longer than ANY "B/X campaign" I ran back in my Baranof days. 

June 30, 2022 (today, age 48): I've now been running AD&D exclusively for nearly two years; we've only barely begun to scratch the surface of play. The system is so robust...and so deep...that I don't anticipate exhausting its possibilities any time soon. Fact is, unless I get sick of my world (which is hard to see happening, considering its "mine" and I can remake any particle of it, any time I choose), I don't see how the game would ever end. It can only grow larger and more developed with time.

Currently, the AD&D books are available both digitally an in Print-on-Demand form from DriveThruRPG. I recommend every D&D player who doesn't already own a set acquire copies of the PHB, DMG, MM, and Fiend Folio. The MM2, DDG, and UA have useful elements, but are not strictly necessary for play. 

All right, that's all for today. 

"Adventure" Design

Just in case any of my readers haven't heard, Alexis is running an adventure writing TEACHING contest with hundreds of American dollars (more than $1K) in cash prices. No, Alexis is not judging the entries...he is only putting up the money. Interested individuals who know how to use a video camera and want to participate should check out the link.

It's an interesting contest. How does one teach someone to write adventures? For that matter, how should one go about writing an adventure? Is it just a matter of having an idea and a word processor? 

Judging by the multitude of published adventures on DriveThruRPG, it would appear many individuals feel they already know how to write an an adventure (and, yeah, maybe they feel it IS only about having an idea and a computer for uploading data). 'Course, that's no guarantee of an adventure being any good.

Perhaps our understanding of What An Adventure Is is lacking these days. The Tom Moldvay-edited Basic (B/X) rules defines the term simply:

adventure -- Any session where a DM and players meet to play a D&D game.

[from the B/X Glossary, page B63]

...but I think the common use and understanding of the term comes from what was once called (and sometimes still called) adventure modules. These are also described in the B/X glossary, a bit more specifically:

module -- Completely designed and challenging adventures available from TSR Hobbies, Inc. that contain maps, keys, background information, NPCs, and other information for use by the DM to use in his or her campaign.

[also page B63]

While such terms are omitted from the DMG glossary, we find a similar definition in the (final) "catalogue" pages of the first edition PHB where it lists other TSR products:

MODULES

Every AD&D module is a ready-to-play adventure setting, populated with appropriate monsters, treasures, tricks, and traps, and including maps, background information, and histories. Though each individual module is designed to stand on its own, several series are specially made to form a connected progression of adventures.

[from the PHB, page 127]

Also of note (same page) is:

INTRODUCTORY MODULES

Each of these modules is especially designed to instruct both the beginning player and Dungeon Master, how to construct and fill one's own dungeons and how to better play D&D for full enjoyment.

The only two "introductory modules" listed are B1: In Search of the Unknown and B2: The Keep on the Borderlands, adventures specifically written/designed for the (introductory) Basic D&D game. T1: The Village of Hommlet (generally considered an introductory module) is NOT, being found in the previous (AD&D Module) section.

Leaving aside the self-referential advertising, these explanations of the term "module" all seem describe a singular scenario: a situational set of circumstances for the players to interact with in a given game session. Especially in the AD&D description:

...a ready-to-play adventure setting...

these modules are not billing themselves as the adventure itself. Which I find fascinating when coupled with the description (from the catalogue) of the Dungeon Masters Guide:

DUNGEON MASTERS GUIDE

This hardbound masterwork contains all the invaluable charts and information necessary to be a Dungeon Master. It contains in addition, guidelines for developing the campaign and for running the AD&D game more smoothly.

Make careful note of that description: in no way, shape or form does it promise to teach DMs how to craft adventures...only how to develop campaigns and how to run the game more smoothly. Neither does the back cover (either of the 1E covers) say anything about writing/creating adventures...nor (so far as I can tell) does the body of the text describe what an "adventure" is supposed to mean in terms of the game.

All of which suggests to me that Moldvay's definition of "adventure" (any session where a DM and players meet to play a D&D game) was MORE than just Tom's invention...it was, in fact, based on an understanding of what the term meant to the creators/publishers of the game. 

"Adventures" are what the players (through their characters) were expected to have every time they came to the table. Whether big or small, meaningful, impactful, or none of the above...D&D was meant to be a game where every time you sat down you were experiencing fantasy "adventure." The information Gygax provides in the PHB for Successful Adventures (pages 107-109) would, contextually, seem to indicate that as well:

...assume that a game is scheduled tomorrow, and you are going to get ready for it well in advance so as to have as much actual playing time as possible -- no sense in spending precious adventuring minutes with the mundane preparations common to the game.

First get in touch with all those who will be included in the adventure, or if all are not available, at least talk to the better players so that you will be able to set an objective for the adventure. Whether the purpose is so simple as to discover a flight of stairs to the next lowest unexplored level or so difficult as to find and destroy an altar to an alien god, some firm objective should be established...

Take a look at that: Gygax is using the term adventure simply in place of the term "game session." Find out who is going to be participating in the [session]. Discuss objectives for the [session] before play. Do not waste precious minutes of the [session] time. Gygax makes it clear (earlier, on page 101) that "adventures" (again, read game sessions) can take place in dungeons, outdoor environments, or cities and towns, and he provides tips and advice for tackling ANY such setting...but as an overall preparation for a game of D&D.

NOT the preparation for a single, particular scenario.

The latter is what modules provided: scenarios that could be inserted (in modular fashion) into one's home campaign. Which is how we used to use them back in the day. Heck, it's still how I use them...I don't need no stinking World of Greyhawk.

So the idea of "adventure writing" or "adventure creation" is a bit of a misnomer. What is being created are scenarios...situations and opportunities that might (and probably should) appeal to a group of players who enjoy fantasy gaming. Adventuring is the act of playing D&D...not the act of tackling a particular scenario.

At least originally. Things change. Now adventures are more than opportunities...they are the expectation of play. A mystery is presented (that PCs are expected to solve). A dramatic story is presented (that PCs are expected to take part in). A formidable threat to the locals/kingdom/world is presented (that PCs are expected to side against and find a way to heroically defeat). When players show up for a game session, the DM has "an adventure" ready for the PCs to face because that's how we do D&D now.  

In my opinion, the game has been diminished because of this: playing this way is like playing an overly complex board-less board game. It's a deck-building game without decks. Far from establishing their own objectives, PCs are left to the objectives presented by the DM who acts (more-or-less) as a proxy stand-in for the "adventure designer." Kind of lame, if you ask me. Especially with the added attitude (sometimes expressed) that "THIS is what we're doing tonight...if you don't want to go on the prepared 'adventure,' then there won't be any game happening."

I've encountered this before...as a player. Both in home games and in conventions. We have a scenario...do it or go home. Which isn't how I run my games (generally. Hmm...I'm trying to remember exceptions). I've left a lot of half-finished modules strewn in my wake over the years: players abandon an adventure for one reason or another and move on to other things. And that's OKAY; it's okay that the players don't care terribly about FINISHING some scenario to completion...after all, D&D is NOT a video game (contained, limited, bounded by its medium).

This is why, when I re-purpose something like Dragons of Despair or Ravenloft, the first couple things I do are:

1. Un-couple it from any restrictions that prevent PCs from leaving (like poison fog banks and infinite dragonman patrols), and
2. Provide the PCs with real reasons for wanting to be there (like huge piles of delicious treasure). 

Because that's how D&D (I'm speaking specifically of Dungeons & Dragons, not other RPGs) is supposed to run. Playing the game IS the adventure. Adventure scenarios (whether in published modules or self-brewed) are opportunities of interest...and that's it. Players may have things they're MORE interested in than plumbing dungeons: finding a husband/wife, building a castle, creating a magic item, discovering a contact with the thieves' guild, whatever. LOTS of opportunities for "adventures" present themselves when you're not shackled to running the plot of a particular scenario. 

Anyway.

I'll probably circle back to this topic when I talk about "the perpetual game" (a post I've been meaning to write for months now. Sorry). In the meantime, hopefully I've given folks something to mentally chew on. If you're interested in describing your own techniques/procedures for adventure writing...er, "scenario creation"...and if you'd like to win some cold, hard, cash, I strongly suggest checking out the contest over at The Tao of D&D. 

Later, gators.

More Than Yule Gruel

I'm a snob about a LOT of things. Beer. Christmas music (well, music in general). D&D. Lots of things...I'm a pretty judgy, judgmental guy. But while I am perfectly willing to judge food, I wouldn't call myself a "food snob;" I enjoy food...many, many types of food...and it runs the gamut of comida that's available on this beautiful planet of ours. When I lived in Paraguay, I ate at the capital's most elegant, expensive restaurant every week (my wife and I'd have lunch there Thursdays), and were on chatting terms with the chef/owner. But sometimes you want nothing more than a $5.99 port cheese ball from Fred Meyer and a side of cheap crackers that won't get in the way of that bit of holiday goodness. I've eaten a multi-course meal from a Michelin Star chef in Spain, I've had steak tartar prepared at my table in Paris, and I've enjoyed an entire jar of Tostitos Salso con Queso with a bag of tortilla chips, and savored them all in (near) equal measure.

I've eaten a LOT of breakfasts at the Baranof. Greasy spoon diners are my jam.

There is, of course, terrible food and inedible food and foul tasting food. I've eaten at an IHOP one time, and could not power through more than two bites of their short stack: the pancakes tasted like the batter had been mixed with sawdust. I hate wasting food and I left my plate nearly full. Perhaps it was a bad batch...my friend in Mexico swears by the IHOP breakfast burrito and insists on eating one every time he's in the country (which is less often these days, unfortunately). But life's too short...and the sheer range of eating options to broad...to have yet enticed me back to that particular establishment.

With regard to Dungeons & Dragons, I've blogged before about the importance of including food in one's D&D game. Man, that was a long time ago, and while I stand by what I wrote then, it's not something I've remembered to stay cognizant of, what with all my focus on logistics and world building. 

[*sigh* So hard, so hard to be a Dungeon Master. Some weeks Dungeon Expert (or Dungeon Journeyman) is all you can muster]

Anyway, I've been somewhat lax of late in this aspect of running the game in an immersive fashion. And I've recently come into possession of a delightful little item that could act as visceral reminder at my table. My fellow blogger from Canada, Alexis Smolensk, mailed me a copy of his latest product...not a book, but a menu. Allow me to pump up his tires a bit.

There's no denying that this is a pretty strange objet d'art...a truly niche product for a niche hobby. A fantasy menu for a fantasy inn/tavern in a fantasy world. I doubt a 15th century road house (or even one three centuries later) would have provided any such item list to its patrons...literacy wasn't all that high prior to the 18th century. And yet D&D, for all its medieval trappings, doesn't overly trouble itself with such anachronisms, and...

Well, let's just get to it.

Physically (both visually and tactilely) the thing is beautiful. Hard cover wrapped in soft black leather(?) or a reasonable facsimile of, the thing is debossed or incised with "The Jousting Piglet" and the establishment's namesake logo in silver. The interior pages (four total) are lovely and feature about 80 tasty items that one might find (presumably) in a large fantasy eatery. Prices are given in copper pieces, silver pieces, and gold pieces, clearly marking this a game product for use with various versions of D&D all the way back to the original (which only used three coin types).

[more pictures here]

I'll be honest: when Alexis first wrote about his menu project, I was pretty ho-hum regarding the idea. Unlike some DMs, I don't use (or enjoy) "props" in my game. I prefer we keep everything, as much as possible, to the "realms of the imagination." You have your dice and your character sheet, and some paper/pencils for notes...what the hell else do you need? Certainly not costumes and handouts and blah-blah-blah...my job, as a DM, is to keep you engaged in play without resorting to the use of such crutches. Leave that stuff to the Call of Cthulhu "Keepers" who are trying to instill a "mood" or "atmosphere."

[he says in his most snide sounding voice]

But there's a bit more to this menu than meets the eye (and it does wow the eyeballs). The price list, for one thing. Those who follow the Tao's blog knows that Alexis has designed an entire system of trade and pricing for his world, considering supply and demand and travel, all based in real world resources in order model a fantasy economy that makes sense and is closer to actual/factual. I don't doubt that much of the pricing here has come out of his own rates (as well as his years of experience in the restaurant business) and this kind of information can be useful in breaking down the resources in a given area (and relative value of said resources). Far from just a simple "prop," this can be a valuable play aid in world building.

Of course, it would be difficult to believe that even a fantasy restaurant would have such a wide array of items in its pantry. Sea turtle soup only became a "thing" in Europe after the species was imported from the West Indies in the 17th and 18th centuries, and who knows when items like sauerkraut and caviar became popular menu choices in regions west of the Rhine? But here's the thing: nothing compels you to use EVERY item on the menu. Perhaps the Jousting Piglet is run by a wizard who can teleport all over the globe for his groceries...but the menu could just as easily be used for the Red Dwarf Tavern or the Inn of the Welcome Wench with the admonition to "ignore everything in the Kettle and Hearth sections that aren't pork" (or whatever). 

The menu likewise acts as suggestions for adventure (and treasure). Ye Old Wikipedia tells me that six pounds of turtle is a good dinner portion, and that green sea turtles weigh anywhere from 150 - 400+ pounds when mature (some up to 600#). If the turtle soup is 16 g.p. per portion, that ends up being a lot of treasure for each such critter caught and hauled back to port! Likewise, if a half-jigger of absinthe is worth 13 g.p. at the tavern, what's the value of a bottle of the stuff (hint: a fifth bottle would hold about 17 shots)? How much for a cask of pear cider when the price of a goblet is 5 s.p.? These are things you can throw into your adventure sites, rather than sacks of coins. Why drop a box of 3,000 copper pieces when you could have two kegs of "lordly stout" (29 c.p. per stein) instead?

And here you thought the menu was just a gimmick.

; )

The variety of items...meats, vegetables, breads, drinks, desserts, and dishes...is pretty astounding, each with a lovingly detailed description of its preparation. Everything here looks delicious. My daughter, reading through the menu, wants to go to the restaurant..."Can we please, PLEASE go to this place?" I have had to explain (multiple times now) that it's not a real restaurant, and that I'm a little short on silver and gold pieces. This has not gone over well. She'd really like eat the food described in the menu.

And, I admit, I feel much the same...remember: I enjoy eating. Some of this stuff just makes the mouth water; for example:

Jousted perch (5 s.p.)

Our specialty: choice perch newly caught, stuffed with anchovy, lobster & bread crumbs, roasted over a slow fire until moist, crisp and delicious

Or...

Roast fillet of veal (11 s.p.)

boned, skewered & bound, roasted above gentle coals, basted continuously; served with butter & bacon sauce

Or...

Mussels & potatoes (15 s.p.)

fresh plucked from the sea, boiled in their own liquor then sauteed, served with brown-fried potatoes, tomato and lemon slices

Or even...

Pumpernickel loaf (7 c.p.)

traditional Mackburg rye bread with farm brown colour & earthy aroma, reminiscent of dark chocolate & coffee

Man, I could go for a good loaf of pumpernickel and a side of their brown gravy (4 c.p.) along with a tankard of their roasted ale (13 c.p.)...that's a pretty good snack for two silver, though some might prefer the freshly churned butter ("compliments of our dear cow Beatrice") for one s.p. more than the gravy.

My son thinks the menu is pretty cool, and feels it would find good use at his gaming table (he's DM'ing AD&D these days). For him, he sees it as a useful tool to help put his players (all kids) in the right frame of mind for the game, and give them a good idea of the D&D world in which the characters reside. "Very medieval," he says, "Very neat."

Anyhoo...

The menu is a nice little luxury item for the DM that is otherwise "set" with the required complement of rule books, dice, and cooperative players. It's a niche product, but not an un-useful one. It IS a bit spendy (especially considering shipping from Canada), but for folks who have the extra cash, it's not a bad piece to aid in deepening and enriching one's campaign setting. And folks who do like (and use) props at the table will find this one pretty fantastic and...dare I say...flavorful.

Cheers to all.