The Family Tree of the Gods

Fanzines are of particular importance to the history and development of roleplaying games and have, in recent years, enjoyed a welcome resurgence. RPG fanzines were themselves modeled on the earlier ’zines of science fiction fandom. Beginning in the 1930s, these amateur magazines helped popularize the then-new genres of science fiction and fantasy (the distinction between them being a later and largely arbitrary development). Much like the pulp magazines of the same era, early fanzines offer a treasure trove of insight into the tastes, debates, and creative energies of their communities. They capture ideas in motion, as well as passionate – and often acrimonious – arguments played out in print. I take strange comfort in the fact that the nerds of nearly a century ago were no more temperate in their enthusiasm than are their 21st century descendants.

Another way in which those old fanzines strangely mirror contemporary trends is that, much like the Internet today, they enabled fans to interact directly, albeit more slowly, with writers and artists whose work they admired. For example, The Acolyte, a fanzine edited by Francis Towner Laney from 1942 to 1946, often included contributions from members of the Lovecraft Circle, such as Donald Wandrei (co-founder of Arkham House) and Clark Ashton Smith. Though there are many issues of The Acolyte that are worthy of examination, issue #7 (Summer 1944) includes an interesting contribution from Smith.

Entitled "The Family Tree of the Gods," it's a transcript of part of a letter sent by CAS to Robert H. Barlow a decade earlier. In that letter, Smith lays out the genealogy of some of the Elder Gods of the Cthulhu Mythos and how they relate to some of his own creations, most notably Tsathoggua.

From what I have gathered, this family tree is intended as an addition/expansion/correction to one that Lovecraft created in a letter to James F. Morton in April 1933. That one seems to have been a joke, a bit of tongue in cheek genealogy that purported to show HPL's own lineage from Azathoth on down through Nyarlathotep to the present day. Here's a reproduction of that family tree:

As you can see, there are points of disagreement between the two genealogies that cannot easily be reconciled. That’s not really a problem, however, since I doubt that either Lovecraft or Smith intended these schemes to be definitive, let alone reliable. They function more as evocative gestures than as firm statements of "canon." Of course, some of their disciples and fans felt otherwise, seizing upon every stray detail and treating it as holy writ, as overzealous fans have been wont to do for as long as fandom has existed. Being prone to this sort of activity myself, I can hardly censure them too harshly. Even so, I can’t help but feel that attempts at encyclopedic categorization miss the point of Lovecraft’s Yog-Sothothery entirely – hardly the first time fans have tried to pin down something that was meant to remain elusive and unsettling.

I present this material mostly as evidence of the ways Lovecraft and especially Smith interacted with fans and correspondents, engaging their enthusiasm while never fully surrendering the essential ambiguity of their creations. These genealogies reveal a kind of playful negotiation between creator and audience, where hints are offered, contradictions are allowed to stand, and the resulting uncertainty becomes a feature rather than a flaw. In that sense, the disagreements themselves are more revealing than any tidy reconciliation could ever be.

Epistle (Continued)

Epistle (Continued) by James Maliszewski

More Excerpts from the Secrets of sha-Arthan 'Zine

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Retrospective: The Travellers' Digest

Fanzines have a long history in fandoms of all kinds, going back at least as far as the 1920s, when science fiction and fantasy increased their reach (and popularity) through pulp magazines like Weird Tales and Amazing Stories. Unsurprisingly, the hobby of roleplaying – and, by extension, its fandom – followed a similar trajectory, building on the already existing traditions of 'zine making. Just as many of the people who created the first RPGs had previously contributed to wargames fanzines, so too would many of the contributors to the emerging scene for roleplaying 'zines go on to create or contribute to later RPGs. Fanzines thus served as a kind of "training ground" for new and often, though not exclusively, young writers hoping to make a name for themselves.

While Dungeons & Dragons, by virtue of its being the first and most popular roleplaying game, had a very enthusiastic fanzine culture, it was not the only RPG that did so. Those slightly older and better connected than I could probably speak at great length about the vibrancy of the 'zines devoted to, say, Tunnels & Trolls or RuneQuest, two games that I know had fanzines devoted to them. Not having been a player of either of those games in my youth, I don't have much to say on that front – or indeed about the 'zines written by fans of most other roleplaying games. The main exception is, of course, Traveller, a game I've played and adored since I first encountered it sometime in 1982.

The interesting thing about Traveller fanzines is that some of them were, in fact, officially licensed and associated with a third-party game company producing material for use with Traveller. For example, FASA, which would later publish Star Trek the Roleplaying Game and BattleTech (né Battledroids), began its existence as a Traveller licensee. During those days, FASA produced not one but two 'zines, Far Traveller and High Passage. One might argue that these periodicals aren't actually "fanzines" at all, but closer to prozines and I'd be willing to concede the point if it weren't for the fact that these periodicals were still very amateurish, produced on a shoe-string budget and written by and for fans. And, of course, one might counter by saying the entire RPG hobby, including the companies that service it, have never really stopped being amateurish, so it's a distinction with only a very small difference.

All of this is a roundabout way of saying that, before the Internet, Traveller had a number of well-done and influential fanzines that straddled the line between purely amateur and truly professional, often involving writers and artists who worked on both sides of the line, like the Keith Brothers. I read a number of them on and off, but I never became a regular reader of any of them until the appearance of The Travellers' Digest in 1985. Published by Digest Group Publications, the (theoretically) quarterly periodical was clearly modeled on GDW's own The Journal of the Travellers' Aid Society, though, to be fair, most fanzines for Traveller looked to JTAS for inspiration. 

What distinguished The Travellers' Digest (hereafter TD) was not its format but its content. Each issue presented an adventure scenario that was part of a looser, large narrative – the so-called "Grand Tour," in which a quartet of characters, including a highly advanced sentient robot, traveled across the Imperium and reported on their experience to the eponymous The Travellers' Digest, which is presented as an in-universe magazine. Each adventure highlighted a different region of the Third Imperium, providing players and referees alike with information they could incorporate into their campaigns, even if they didn't make use of the Grand Tour meta-narrative. 

I could have cared less for the Grand Tour, especially since the adventure presupposed the use of four pregenerated characters, none of whom, not even the robot, held much interest for me. However, I loved all the additional details the writers provided about the Imperium, its worlds, cultures, and history through the vehicle of the Grand Tour scenarios. I talked recently about "jump dimming," for instance, and that's a good example of the kinds of things TD did often: present clever new details about the Imperium so that it started to feel like a real place, with its own unique societies and cultures. 

GDW had already provided plenty of details about the Third Imperium in its own publications, but TD did so in a way that felt very organic and, above all, playable. The magazine (mostly) didn't just present high-level lore dumps without consequence to the characters. Instead, the information played a part in a scenario and the characters' encounters with it made sense. Thus, if a scenario were set on Capital, the Imperium's seat of government, the workings of the Moot aren't just chrome but significant to the adventure in some way. DGP managed to pack a lot of great information into their adventures, occasionally even stuff that was truly setting-changing (like the revelation about how the alien Aslan came to possess jump drive).

The Travellers' Digest ran from 1985 until 1990, producing 21 issues in total before morphing into The MegaTraveller Journal, which lasted only three issues before the company folded – a victim of, among other things, the changing fortunes of GDW and indeed Traveller itself. I have a special affection for TD, because it was being produced around the time that I first started to take an interest in writing professionally. Though I never wrote for TD itself, I did write for The MegaTraveller Journal and, through it, made many friends with whom I am still in contact today. 

Traveller is the only RPG fandom in which I've ever been deeply immersed and 'zines, whether fan or pro, were a big part of how I've interacted with that fandom and its members. Consequently, I have strongly positive feelings about these periodicals, so much so that, five or six years ago, I briefly considered producing my own Traveller fanzine. I never followed through with it for various reasons, but the thought still crosses my mind from time to time. Who knows? Maybe one day I'll do it.

Peace Finally Comes

I've mentioned a couple of times previously that I'm currently playing in a Traveller campaign refereed by an old friend of mine. I first met this particular friend around 1990 through a Traveller fan organization known as the History of the Imperium Working Group (HIWG – pronounced Hi-Wig). HIWG's original purpose was to assist GDW in developing the Third Imperium setting during the MegaTraveller era, when the Imperium was in the throes of a succession crisis/civil war inexplicably known as the Rebellion. 

HIWG had a fanzine called Tiffany Star that was released more or less bimonthly, starting in January 1988. Its first issue included a map of the warring factions of the fragmented Third Imperium as they were five years after the start of the Rebellion, which I've reproduced below.

The map originated with Marc Miller at GDW and bears the title "Peace Finally Comes." The original idea behind it was that this map would represent the end state of the Rebellion, after its factions had become exhausted by years of open warfare between one another. What was interesting about it is that there were a couple of missing factions, which is to say, factions from the early phases of the Rebellion that had seemingly disappeared, leading to much speculation about the circumstances under which they were defeated or subsumed into other factions Likewise, many of the remaining factions had grown or contracted in their astrographic extent. 

Figuring out how this had all happened was part of HIWG's original remit. Certain members of the organization were "sector analysts," whose job it was to create and collate material pertaining to one of the sectors of the Imperium or surrounding space. In theory, this material would then be used by GDW in creating future MegaTraveller products. I was the sector analyst for Antares sector, while my friend was the sector analyst for Lishun sector to spinward. We became friends because we started exchanging letters – remember, this was in that benighted time just before the advent of the consumer Internet – and sharing information of mutual interest. Later, when I went to graduate school, it just so happened that I moved to the same city as my HIWG pen pal and we've been friends ever since. 

When I again saw the Peace Map, as we called it, for the first time in many years, I felt a huge rush of nostalgia, not just for MegaTraveller, warts and all, but for one of my earliest and most serious brushes with organized RPG fandom. Remember, as I said, that this was before the Internet was in widespread use. Almost none of us had email addresses, let alone a regular means of real time chat. Instead, we exchanged photocopied (or dot matrix printed) materials by post, occasionally meeting at conventions if they were geographically convenient. It was slow, inefficient, and occasionally frustrating, but also a great deal of fun. I made a lot of friends through HIWG, several of whom are still in contact with me.

Beyond that, the Peace Map represents a path not taken for Traveller. The whole point of the Rebellion was to shake up the staid status quo of the Third Imperium by creating multiple successor states suspicious of one another. This created many more opportunities for adventure, intrigue, and outright warfare. This greatly appealed to me and my preference for smaller settings. I was quite excited by the possibilities, especially for my beloved League of Antares faction. Alas, it was not to be. Instead, GDW opted to descend the Imperium – and, later, most of charted space – into a new dark age with almost no interstellar states and most worlds regressing both technologically and socially. What a waste!

I still have dreams of one day revisiting my own vision of a post-Rebellion Third Imperium setting, one where the fragments of the shattered Imperium survived and pursued their own destinies. I don't know that I'll ever get around to refereeing such a campaign, but a man can dream ...

White Dwarf: Issue #47

White Dwarf regularly featured very striking covers. Whether because of their style, subject matter, or both, I generally can't help but find them much more compelling than those of other gaming magazines from the same period of time. The cover of issue #47 (November 1983) is no exception to this, with its undead samurai as painted by Gary Chalk, who's probably best known for his work on the Lone Wolf series of gamebooks (about which I'll talk more later this week). 

"The Demonist" by Phil Masters is a new character class for use with AD&D, following in the footsteps of the demon summoning rules for RuneQuest presented in the previous three issues. The class is basically a variant (evil only) cleric, with a unique spell list, including some original spells, like soul shield and summon imps. New character classes – or "NPC classes," if it's published in the pages of Dragon – have been a staple of the hobby since 1974. Most of them aren't especially interesting, so Masters deserves some credit for creating one that's not dull. That said, I'm not sure there's much need for the demonist as a distinct class, when simply creating new spells for evil clerics would suffice.

"Open Box" reviews four products this month, starting with FGU's Privateers and Gentlemen, which earns 9 out of 10 – much higher than I would have expected. The Asylum and Other Tales also receives 9 out of 10, while Starfleet Battles Supplement #1 is rated 7 out of 10. Big Rubble, on the other hand, gets a fairly nuanced rating: 10 at best, much 8–9, some scenarios 5–6. Nuanced ratings is nothing new to White Dwarf. Many ratings are divided between presentation, rules, playability, and complexity, with a single overall rating for the entire package. This is the first time, though, that I can recall seeing the "overall" rating (which is what I usually report in my posts) broken up in this way. 

Dave Langford's "Critical Mass" reviews Asimov on Science Fiction, a nonfiction book in which Isaac Asimov offers his thoughts and opinions about the genre and its practitioners. Langford's opinion of the book is mixed. Much of it is clear, lucid, and sensible. However, Asimov's own prejudices and his incessant self-promotion mar what might have otherwise been a solid tome. Fond though I am of much of Asimov's oeuvre, I find it difficult to disagree with Langford's assessment. "Zine Scene" by Mike Lewis is the inaugural column devoted to gaming fanzines. Lewis introduces himself to the reader, along with a handful of 'zines he thinks worthy of mention.

"Extracts from the Travels of Tralk True-Eye" by Ian Bailey presents details and game stats for several types of goblins for use with RuneQuest. The goblins are imaginative and varied, which is nice, though I'm not sure how well they'd fit into Glorantha. Mind you, I often forget that White Dwarf regularly published "generic" RQ articles that were not tied to Glorantha and this appears to be another of them. I suppose it's a testament of how ingrained Glorantha is to my own conception of RuneQuest that I even think to ponder questions like this. "Aliens" by Phil Masters presents two new non-human species for use with Traveller: the crustacean-like Phulgk'k'k'k and the small ape-like Ghashruan. 

The conclusion to Daniel Collerton's "Irilian" gives readers a two-page color map of the entire city. Irilian's main buildings are keyed but, to make full use of it, one must possess the previous five issues of White Dwarf. Accompanying the map is the final part of the six-part adventure, "The Rising of the Dark," which takes place within the city's walls, along with random encounter tables and information on civil and religious law. It's a terrific end to a terrific series of articles. "Irilian" was what finally convinced me to subscribe to White Dwarf after picking up single copies of it for years. That likely explains the fondness I have for the whole series and the city it depicts.

"Rune Rites" presents two very short articles for use with RuneQuest. The first, "Daily Health" by Paddy Barrow is a very odd one. It's a set of random tables to determine "how a player character feels on a certain day." Sub-tables are used if a character feels particularly good or bad, with game mechanical effects coming into play. Perhaps this might be useful on occasion, but it strikes me as a perfect example of the randomness fetishism that frequently afflicts long-time gamers. Much better is Dave Morris's "Force of Will," which codifies a system for measuring a character's ability to resist debilitating/demoralizing effects. The system is simple and easy to use; it makes a for a consistent alternative to the haphazard way RQ used to handle this sort of thing.

"Kwaidan" by Oliver Johnson and Dave Morris is a nifty little adventure scenario for Bushido. As its title suggests, it presents a ghost story set in feudal Japan. It's quite well done, with detailed NPCs, maps of a village, a monastery, and a manor house, and of course the ghosts wreaking havoc in the region. I haven't had the chance to play Bushido in years; reading "Kwaidan" makes me wish I were. "Treasure Chest" presents a mini-scenario based around a couple of weird magic items, including the "Dorianic Portrait," while "Mini-Monsters" offers five small monsters for use with D&D. The issue concludes with the latest installments of "Thrud the Barbarian" and "The Travellers," the former of which is especially amusing.

As I alluded to earlier, this issue comes from the period when I was reading White Dwarf religiously, as a companion and counterpoint to Dragon, to which I was also subscribing. Consequently, I have a lot of affection for these issues. At the same time, it's obvious in retrospect that White Dwarf was changing – becoming slicker, more professional, and diversifying its content. In addition, Game Workshop was itself changing and those changes would soon enough impact White Dwarf itself. This knowledge doesn't adversely affect my delight in re-reading issues like this one, but it does remind that Golden Ages rarely last long, no matter how great their glory.

Hand Drawn

I have a great fondness for hand-drawn maps, especially of the sort that commonly appeared in fanzines. Take, for example, this one from the first issue of the UK 'zine, The Beholder, produced by Guy Duke and Michael Stoner, starting in 1979. 

I wish I could better explain my affection for maps like this. Perhaps it's because they remind me of the maps I used to spend hours making in my younger days. For me, map making is very primal, one of the foundational elements of playing Dungeons & Dragons. Even more than dice, you can't play D&D without a map.

Sadly, I don't have many maps from my youth. At some point in my late teens, I threw most of them out, in the foolish belief that my cartography was subpar. One of the few dungeon maps I still have is this one:

I'm not absolutely certain when I made this map, but I suspect it was sometime between 1982 and 1984. Objectively, it's a terrible map – too small and obviously influenced by Quasqueton from In Search of the Unknown. For good or for ill, module B1 was my model of what a dungeon should be for many years. What might not be obvious, however, is that this map was intended to be the first level of my own version of the Temple of Elemental Evil. As I've mentioned many times before, I adore The Village of Hommlet and it bugged me that Gygax's promised module T2 didn't appear in time for me to use it. So, ambitious lad that I was in those days, I set out to create my own Temple and this was its first level. Like the maps of the other levels, I no longer have the key for this one, but I can still remember a few details, like the pools in Room 7, the hidden shrine in Room 11, and the demonic statues in Room 18 that, if not properly propitiated, spring to life and attack. 

I used to be terribly embarrassed by my adolescent efforts at dungeon making. Now, I look back on them with more fondness. Like the map of the Pyrus Complex from The Beholder, there's something very pure about maps enthusiastically drawn by hand before we knew enough to be sheepish about our efforts. Then and now, this is where roleplaying lives.

The Joys and Woes of Fanzine Production

As I am sure most readers know, since late 2014, I have been producing a fanzine devoted to M.A.R. Barker's world of Tékumel called The Excellent Travelling Volume. A little over a week ago, I released its thirteenth issue (available in print here and in PDF here). My intentions in creating the 'zine were twofold. First and foremost, I wanted to promote gaming in Tékumel, one of the greatest and most underappreciated fantasy settings in the hobby. Second, I wanted to participate in an aspect of the hobby with which I had only minimal acquaintance. 

Fanzines were very much alive and well when I started roleplaying in late 1979, but I had almost no contact with them. I've always felt that was a serious gap in my gaming "education," because one might rightly argue that the hobby as we know it today was born and nurtured in the pages of 'zines and APAs. Many influential game writers and designers first appeared on the scene in the pages of 'zines. 

The Excellent Travelling Volume, then, was partially an experiment in trying to understand fanzines from the production side. For the first few issues, I wrote everything myself (generally drawing on material from my ongoing House of Worms Empire of the Petal Throne campaign), while Matt Hildebrand generously did the layout and a wide variety of artists – Jason Sholtis, Luigi Castellani, Zhu Bajiee, Stefan Poag being a few among them – bringing my words to life. I'm deeply grateful to all of their help and the 'zine would never have reached thirteen issues over the last six and a half years if it hadn't been for their assistance.

I've always enjoyed writing the fanzine, but that should come as no surprise, because I enjoy Tékumel. What sometimes does surprise people is how much I enjoyed the process of producing each issue – and by "producing," I mean physically. I loved going to my local printer, picking up the issues, and taking them home. At first, I folded and stapled them all myself, but I gave up on that after a while, because the printer could do it so much faster (and better) than I could. Even so, I liked hand addressing each envelope, sticking an issue inside, and then dropping off the issues at the post office. There was something joyous about this process. Over time, I got to recognize names and addresses; I started to feel as if I knew my readers, even though I rarely had any other contact with them. The whole endeavor was delightful and I thought I understood why so many people devoted themselves to producing 'zines back in the day.

Note that many of my verbs are in the past tense. They represent my feelings from the pre-pandemic world. Over the last fifteen months, though, much of the joy I had in the physical production of the 'zine has faded. My printer keeps opening and shutting due to the vicissitudes of local lockdowns. Even when they were open, they were often slow to get things done and made more mistakes than was typical. The post office is even worse: standing in long lines, higher prices, and less reliability. I have had more issues go awry over the last year than I had over the previous five and a half. Assuming an issue doesn't just disappear into the ether, they arrive months late. A purchaser told me that an issue he ordered in August 2020 didn't arrive until February of this year. Others have reported similar delays. 

It's all deeply frustrating and disheartening and I confess that I seriously considered ending the fanzine with issue #12. Fanzines are not a money-making venture. The costs associated with production and mailing are not insignificant, especially if you want your 'zine to look good, as I think TETV does. With the cost of printing and postage rising, I didn't see how I could produce more issues without losing money. That's why issue #13 is being done as a print-on-demand product via Lulu (with PDFs available through DriveThruRPG). 

It's an experiment on my part. I hope that, by offloading a lot of the hassles of production and delivery, I might ease my growing frustrations as well. We shall see if it works. Even if it doesn't and I, for some reason, decided to end The Excellent Travelling Volume for good, I still believe it's been a very worthwhile enterprise. On the most basic level, I've succeeded in producing a lot of new Tékumel material, including artwork. That's not nothing and I'm actually rather pleased by how much I've managed to do with only a small team of people. Beyond that, I think I've gained greater insights into the unique joys and travails of this aspect of the hobby. Indeed, I have so much respect for the gamers of the 1970s who used far less user-friendly and sophisticated equipment to reach far more people than I have. That's a truly Herculean feat and I doff my virtual hat to the men and women of that earlier era. Bravo!

How to Make a Lightbulb Again

Mark A. Swanson was a science fiction and fantasy fan who was very active in the 1970s. He was a member of the Los Angeles Science Fantasy Society (LASFS) and contributed to its weekly amateur press association known as APA-L. Swanson also contributed to The Lords of Chaos, Alarums & Excursions, and Different Worlds, as well as editing The Wild Hunt, a very early and important APA 'zine. 

In APA-L #493 (October 24, 1974), Swanson included a report, entitled "And Swanson Offers to Show Edison How to Make a Lightbulb Again." The report details his experience playing "a new game" called Dungeons & Dragons. He begins:

I have been hooked again, this time by a new game. The game is played basicly [sic] with paper, pencils, and a reeling mind (together with buckets of dice). It is DUNGEONS & DRAGONS (which someone probably introduced the LASFS to last meeting, but I'll risk it. Omelots [sic] anyone?)

I'm always fascinated about early descriptions of D&D. Swanson mentions paper and pencils – both of which are included in OD&D's subtitle –  but he also mentions "buckets of dice" (note: he doesn't comment on their being oddly-shaped) and "a reeling mind." There's no mention of miniature figures, which I think is significant. Swanson continues:

In the advanced version of the game, the players took the roles of various exploring/looting parties trying to return from a gamemaster desighned [sic] castle's dungeon with treasure. The gamemaster has a map, the player's [sic] don't. The treasures are guarded by appropriate monsters (gnomes, green slime, orcs, dragons, evil wizards, zombies, giants, etc.) The deeper you go, the nastier the monsters and the bigger the treasures. As you win encounters, you gain experience, which makes you a better fighter, able to go lower. It is played as a campaign game (there are some which are over a year old) with each person performing many quests. If you are killed, you get reincarnated, with a smaller initial stake. 

If you're curious what Swanson means by "the advanced version of the game," he elaborates a bit on this in the coming paragraph. Of note is his statement that D&D "is played as a campaign game" and his allusion to what I can only assume are the Blackmoor and Greyhawk campaigns. I've been beating the drum about the importance of campaigns to understanding how Gygax and Arneson imagined D&D being played for a long time, so it's good to see that perspective vindicated in such an early report of playing the game. Also of note is Swanson's use of the term "gamemaster, which is nowhere to found in the little brown books of OD&D.

The basic (early) game involves wandering through a wilderness on quest, looking for experience and treasure. It mostly involves luck and its proper use. In the basic version, the gamemaster rolls dice to determine what you meet. The basic game also has a shockingly high mortality rate, as might be expected in place where you and your trusty henchmen (40 first life, 35 2nd incarnation, etc) keep encountering such things as evil high priests, 300 bandits, or four balrogs, mere veterans, which is what you start as, have small chance.

From this section, it becomes clear that Swanson uses the terms "basic" and "advanced" as synonyms for "early" and "late," with the former referring to the initial trek through the wilderness to reach the dungeon's location and the latter being the exploration of the dungeon itself. It's certainly an idiosyncratic usage, but, at this early date, most usages will necessarily be unique. His comments about the game's mortality rate tracks with most other early reports of the game I've read, though the references to "first life" and "2nd incarnation," particularly when paired with the comments about getting reincarnated above, implies that such magic was commonplace in this campaign.

On the other hand, in the campaign I'll be continuing Saturaday [sic], I'm about to adventure in company with a friend who, deserted by all but 4 men and the persona of an abscent [sic] second friend, subdued two dragons, got them to market, and is now filthy rich and a second level cleric. The persona was killed by the dragons. Since he has only four men, he's financing a bunch of others while recruits.

Once again, Swanson mentions henchmen, which were a vital feature of D&D even as late as my own introduction to the hobby five years later. I'm amused by the fact the "persona of an abscent [sic] friend" was apparently killed by the dragons. I recall many a game in my youth where similar things happened: "Sorry I couldn't make last session; I had baseball practice. What happened?" "We defeated a dragon and got lots of treasure. And, uh, your character died. Sorry."

Your characteristics (Strength, Intelligence, Wisdom, Endurance, Dexterity and Charisma) are determined by rolling dice on first entrance into the game, after which you can choose the profession fighter, magician or cleric and begin. However, there are three booklets of rules, and I will not try to repeat them here. Very good game, at least as much for the gamemaster as for the players. 

I'm struck by the observation that D&D is a "very good game, at least as much for the gamemaster as for the players." That's certainly been my experience of the years, but I think it's noteworthy that this seems to have been recognized so early.

Thanks to Victor Raymond for providing me with this early account of playing Dungeons & Dragons.

First Encounter

Speaking as someone who has struggled to produce a fanzine on a regular basis, I have nothing but respect and admiration for those who attempted to do so in the days before computers and the Internet made it a far more complex and onerous proposition. Take, for example, First Encounter, a Canadian fanzine whose eight issues were published between June 1982 and August 1983. Of particular note is that the 'zines feature the artwork of Eric Hotz, best known for his iconic work on Hârn. I love seeing "before they were famous" work of this sort. It's a useful reminder of the remarkable talents that our hobby has fostered over the decades.

Distraction

I'm knee-deep in putting the final touches on the text of issue #13 of my Tékumel fanzine, The Excellent Travelling Volume, which I hope will be released sometime next month. The cover of the issue depicts an idol of the Salarvyáni goddess Shiringgáyi, as imagined by my regular cover artist, Zhu Bajiee. 

One thing that pleases me about this issue is that it includes a couple of articles by writers other than myself, something I hope continues in future issues. One of my goals for the 'zine has been to broaden not just interest in Tékumel but also contributions to it. It's a slow process, as people understandably feel that Tékumel is so complex and esoteric that they can't play in it, let alone write for it. Nevertheless, I soldier on and look forward to the release of yet another issue/

REVIEW: Knock! #1

Coinciding with – and fueled by – the Old School Renaissance, gaming fanzines have been undergoing a resurgence. 'Zines were a vital part of the early history of the hobby, serving not just as an "analog Internet" that enabled roleplayers to share ideas (and argue about them) but also as the incubator of rules innovations and even entire RPGs. That's why I'm genuinely gladdened to see so many fanzines being published and enjoyed in the 21st century. 

Another type of publication from those early days is the "companion," a compendium of new, alternate, and optional rules for an existing game and written by a pool of different writers. Chaosium was particularly well known for its companions, such as those for RuneQuest and Call of Cthulhu (while the never-produced D&D Companion – not to be confused with Frank Mentzer's Companion Rules – remains a topic of speculation for me). What I always liked about those companions of old was the way that the plethora of choices they offered, with no expectation that anyone would use all of them in any single game. "We take what we want and leave the rest, like your salad bar," as a wise man once said.

While companions as such have not had the same kind of resurgence that fanzines, there have been a number of publications that occupy a similar niche, such as Feretory for Mörk Borg, which, at the time, I described as both a gallimaufry and a smörgåsbord, but perhaps I should have said bric-a-brac. That's the word chosen by The Merry Mushmen to describe their remarkable publication, Knock!, the first issue of which was released recently. A full-color, 212-page, A5-sized softcover, Knock! is very much like those companions I enjoyed so much back in the day. Its content consists of dozens of articles by dozens of authors, ranging in size and content from single-page random tables to full adventures, complete with maps. Nearly everything you might imagine an old school fantasy RPG companion to contain – erudite musings, house rules, monsters, character classes, magic items, and more – can be found within the pages of issue #1. It's probably the most catholic presentation of old school gaming articles under a single cover published in the last decade – an impressive achievement by any stretch of the imagination.

Not all of the contents were to my taste. Indeed, there were a couple here and there that left me wondering why they were there at all (no, I'm not going to tell you which ones they were), but, as I've said in other contexts, so what? "Old school" has always been a broad church; not everything published under its banner will have universal appeal. Further, old schoolers are a cantankerous, opinionated lot who still break into arguments over the merits of alignment, race-as-class, and ascending armor class. What are the odds that any one of them would like everything in a given book? So, my cavils about one or two articles ultimately amount to little, though I do encourage anyone interested in Knock! to take a look at the list of contributors and some of its contents here.

I would be remiss in not commenting on Knock!'s layout and graphic design, which I jokingly described as "What if Mörk Borg used more than three colors?" Humor aside, Knock! does bear certain similarities with Mörk Borg, most notably its bold use of fonts, pull quotes, and other graphical elements to ensure that no two pages look the same. The result is striking without straining even my aged eyes, which is worthy of praise. The issue also features artwork by many notable old school artists and cartographers, such as Dyson Logos and Jason Sholtis, in addition to well-chosen bits of public domain artwork. All in all, it's a unique and impressive presentation.

Whether one ought to get issue #1 of Knock! depends, I imagine, on one's feelings toward gaming anthologies filled with a large diversity of articles by a large number of individual writers. Even if one is more open-minded than I, there might be some hesitancy about buying a grab bag of material like this one. In this case, though, I think it's unwarranted. The new classes (like the ne'er-do-well), monsters (like the treasure frog), and adventures alone are worth the price of the book and that's not taking into account the inspirational random tables (e.g. "300 Useless Magical Loot"), useful tools ("Sewers of Mistery"), rules options ("Hit Dice are Meant to be Rolled"), and thoughtful essays ("Borderlands") found within its pages. There's a lot to like here, whatever one's preferences and predilections.

Urheim Fanzine?

 As Urheim continues to grow in size and scope, I'm looking for better ways both to present it and to develop it in the manner I think it demands. For example, I've been commissioning art for it by the remarkable Zhu Bajiee (who's also been a stalwart of The Excellent Travelling Volume) and that's been extremely well received, which pleases me. However, I can't really justify that over the long term without some way of subsidizing the cost. That's why I've lately been contemplating moving development of Urheim to a fanzine. 

I have a lot of experience producing fanzines now. The aforementioned Tékumel 'zine has reached a dozen issues, with a thirteenth under way. I've also produced Imperio to support my SF RPG, Thousand Suns, though that's regrettably a project that's not received the attention I'd like to give it. Between the two of them, I've learned a lot about the process of making 'zines for sale and I'd like to think that, as the years wear on, I've gotten better at it. Given that, I have little doubt that an Urheim fanzine would be at least as good as those, if not better.

The Excellent Travelling Volume sells around 250 copies per issue upon initial release, with a few dozen more in the months afterward – and Tékumel is, by even a generous definition, a very niche setting. Those sales are just enough to cover each issue's art budget, as well as printing and postage, but not much else. I'd like to think that Urheim, being a more traditional fantasy locale, would have wider appeal, but who knows? Judging by Blogger's stats, my Urheim posts are popular, with several among the most read posts in the last three months. That suggests there's interest in it. Whether it's enough interest to support a fanzine, though? That's the question.

I suppose there are alternatives to a 'zine, but, given my desire to develop the site, piecemeal, either continuing to do so here, through regular blog posts, or through an irregular fanzine seem the best options. The excellent Wormskin is my model here, since it's been slowly developing the Dolmenwood setting bit by bit over the course of the last few years. I hope to do something similar with Urheim, though I'm not yet committed to the idea of a 'zine. In discussing this with others whose opinions I trust, the notion of a subscription-based newsletter has been suggested, on the model of the superb Glatisant. 

I'm still uncertain of the path forward or indeed if it's something I should contemplate seriously. For the moment, I'm going to continue to make regular Urheim posts here, at least through the end of the year. Come 2021, things may change and, if they do, I'll explain them decision here. In the meantime, if you have any suggestions of your own to offer, please comment or drop me a note. As always, I'm actively seeking advice, opinions, and alternative perspectives and appreciate those of you who offer them.

Imagine Magazine: Issue #18

The cover to issue #18 of Imagine (September 1984) depicts a group of Star Frontiers adventurers, painted by Jim Burns. This is the science fiction issue announced in the previous one. As a long time fan of the genre, I was curious to see what the editors might have cooked up and was generally not disappointed. Nevertheless, the kick-off article is Derrick Norton's "Malevolent Engineering," which examines the creation of monsters for AD&D. At four pages, it's quite extensive and is a good mix of practical and theoretical topics. I found it surprisingly good, despite the fact that I haven't played AD&D in some time. This month's Pellinore installment presents "The Wynd," a section of the City League that's home to the Magic-Users' School. There are a number of small maps of the area and its buildings, as well as descriptions of important NPCs. There is a short story by Colin Greenland, "A House of Straw and Paper," which features characters from Greenland's then-new novel, Daybreak on a Different Mountain. 

Marcus L. Rowland's "The Highest Wisdom" provides a version of the scientist career for Traveller that differs from the one in Citizens of the Imperium. There are also three related scenarios and brief conversion notes for use with other SF RPGs. "On the Rocks" is a Star Frontiers adventure by Mike Brunton. The adventure is a salvage mission, which offers a good excuse to include deck plans and stats for an entirely new class of starship – something of which I greatly approve, being a huge fan of starship deck plans. Graeme Davis's article, "Games Without Frontiers," looks at ways of comparing the game statistics of different games, with an eye toward converting between them. I found it a peculiar article in some respects, but Imagine seems to have had a strange fascination with providing conversion notes for their articles and adventures. It's possible, I suppose, that it was seen as a necessary means to attracting a large audience.

Nearly the entirety of the game reviews in this issue are science fiction related, including my beloved The Traveller Adventure. The reviewer, Stephen Nutt, raves – correctly – "I rate The Traveller Adventure in the top five best role-playing products that have ever been placed on the market. In the context of Traveller, it is the best thing GDW have ever produced, simply a must for anybody running a Traveller campaign." Also reviewed other Traveller products, including three by Gamelords, and Mutiny on the Eleanor Moraes for use with Star Frontiers, which Nutt does not rate nearly as highly (though he acknowledges that it could be a terrific adventure, if all goes well). The preview of the Companion Rules begun in issue #17 concludes here and does a good job, I think, of selling the boxed set, for which I still have positive feelings, despite not generally being a fan of BECMI version of D&D.

Colin Greenland's "Fantasy Media" reviews Star Trek III: The Search for Spock and The Last Unicorn, both positively, along with the video release of the Tom Baker Doctor Who episode, The Brain of Morbius. There are also reviews of a pair of books: Philip K. Dick's Time Out of Joint and Hilbert Schenck's A Rose for Armageddon. Roger Musson's "Stirge Corner" delves into the differences between D&D's three-point alignment system versus AD&D's nine-point one. Given its brief length, it's quite good and raises several points worth considering. "'Zine & the Art of Editing" continues to discuss the finer points of producing fan publications, while "Chainmail" looks at commercial PBM games (like Tribes of Crane, which I saw advertised endlessly in the pages of Dragon). Rounding out the issue are new installments of "Rubic of Moggedon" and "The Phalanx" comics.

All in all, this is a solid issue, though not quite as science fiction-oriented as I had hoped it would be. Nevertheless, there's some excellent material here and it's becoming increasingly clear that the editors of Imagine have a good handle on things now. I very much look forward to next issue.

Imagine Magazine: Issue #17

Issue #17 (August 1984) of Imagine features a cover by Pete Young. Its kick-off article, "What to Do With a Dragon's Treasure," by Chris Barlow is a fascinating one. It starts as an examination of the XP for treasure system of Dungeons & Dragons and then proposes an alternative. Barlow's point is that, under the system as presented, treasure gets counted twice: first as money and second as XP. To avoid this, he proposes that, to be counted as XP, the treasure must be spent. This is a common house rule in old school circles and, reading this article, I wonder if perhaps it is the ultimate source of it. However, Barlow expands upon the idea to create a system by which a character can use his treasure to buy training, which is to say, the abilities of other classes. It's an interesting idea, but it does a lot of violence to D&D's traditional class structure, which will limit its appeal.

David R. Knowles presents "The Drow," which is an expansion of the information on the Dark Elves available at the time. "Pelinore: The City League" presents a home base for characters in the setting. Included with the article are seven locales within the City, each of which gets a map and NPC descriptions. "Magic & Mayhem in Celtic History and Literature" is an overview of this topic by Graeme Davis. It's paired with "Lore, Lay & Legend" by Carole Morris, presents brief summaries of important stories from Celtic myth. "Tir Nan Og" by Chris Barlow is an AD&D scenario that involves an expedition to an island people by fairies and fairy creatures.

"'Zine & the Art of Editing" by Mike Lewis is an intriguing article from a historical perspective. Imagine has always covered fanzines, which is a notable way that it differentiated itself from Dragon. This article, though, is about the process of producing, and printing a 'zine, according to the technology of the time. It's short and not deep in its coverage, but it's a window on a bygone world. Game reviews focus on new TSR releases, as they usually do. There are, however, a number of early Games Workshop releases, too, one of which – Battlebikes – brought back memories of the time for me. Frank Mentzer's D&D Companion Set receives a three-page preview that had a similar effect, as I am quite fond of that boxed set, despite its flaws. 

Colin Greenland's "Fantasy Media" is the usual mix of movie and book reviews. Interestingly, he reviews the movie Splash very favorably while he has only harsh words – very harsh words – for Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. While Temple of Doom is an awful follow-up to Raiders of the Lost Ark (which is practically irreproachable), it's not as bad as Greenland makes it out to be. Plus, it's opening sequence in the amusingly named Club Obi Wan is terrific. On the other hand, Greenland is contemptuous of the third volume of the interminable Belgariad and loves Thieves' World, so he can't be all bad. 

Roger Musson's "Stirge Corner" provides some tips to the novice DM in preparing a dungeon and Derick Norton's "Identity Crisis" speaks true about characters. Aimed beginners, Norton says a number of things worthy of repeating, chief among them being

In part the desire for good [ability] scores is caused by a clouded view of what a character represents. For some players a character is basically a vehicle with which to propagate their own ego.

Ouch! "The Sword of Alabron" comic is gone, replaced by "Phalanx," a new series. "Rubic of Moggedon," unfortunately, continues.

Taken together, this issue was something of a disappointment to me, particularly after the highs of last issue. There are a handful of worthy articles, but, overall, it feels lackluster. I hope issue #18 will be more enjoyable.

REVIEW: A Visitor's Guide to the Rainy City

While the old school renaissance is usually (and with good reason) associated with blogs, I think a serious argument could be made that, over the last few years anyway, the action has moved to fanzines. Of course, the definition of "fanzine" is an elastic one. Nowadays, it includes everything from amateur periodicals to game supplements – and even entire games – that are presented in a fashion reminiscent of those periodicals. At minimum, means saddle-stitched, digest-sized booklets and in many cases it also means embraces simple, even simplistic, art and layout that hearkens back to the days before desktop publishing was inexpensive and ubiquitous. Thus, esthetic considerations determine what qualifies as a fanzine as much as format or even content, much like the OSR itself.

A Visitor's Guide to the Rainy City is a recent example of what I mean by this. Produced by Superhero Necromancer Press – a terrifically evocative name that references the 8th level title of elves in the Cook/Marsh Expert Set – it's a 60-page system-neutral description of the eponymous settlement, so called because rain perpetually falls upon it. The inhabitants of the Rainy City believe the constant precipitation signals the End of the World. Whether or not this is true is an open question, like a great many of the mysteries A Visitor's Guide presents. 

Author Rich Forest (with contributions from Andrew D. Devanney, Alisha Forest, and Bill Spytma) writes in the voice of Beauregard Hardebard, a warden of the Fraternity of the Art or Mystery of Haberdashery and Millinery. Beauregard is an inhabitant of the Rainy City and purports to know a great deal about it, though, as one reads, it becomes clear that he is not a completely reliable narrator. As with the cause of the endless rain that blankets the city, this approach works to the credit of the book, as it leaves a lot of room for the referee to come up with his own answers. Indeed, openness and flexibility are the watchwords of A Visitor's Guide and one's reactions to them will probably predict how one will feel about it.

The book is divided into more than a dozen short chapters, the bulk of which focus on the various districts of the Rainy City. Before getting to those, there are useful overviews of topics of broader interest, like the peoples (i.e. species) who inhabit the city, what seasons and holidays are like in this strange place, and the questions of light, heat, food, and related mundane matters. I was greatly impressed by the range of subjects touched upon, because it shows the authors have given thought to the consequences of the peculiar weather patterns in the city. None of these matters are treated at length – most receive no more than a couple of paragraphs – but all receive just enough detail to be both useful and inspirational. For example, large amphibious creatures called ewts have replaced horses as riding animals and beasts of burden. Likewise, hats and umbrellas are not only fashionable but vital items for anyone living in the Rainy City. 

The city's districts are all presented in a similar fashion. There's an introduction establishing the nature and history of the area, following by sketches of the weather, inhabitants, laws and crimes. Important locations within the district are also detailed, but the meat of these chapters focus on adventure seeds and unique organizations. For example, Old Town is home to multiple guilds, the Murk houses the Grand Academy, and Levee Town is where the Order of the Pump (civil engineers who keep the city from flooding) is established. Each chapter is largely modular and could in all likelihood be lifted for use in other locales should the referee desire it. That's not to say that there are no connections between the districts, only that, as presented, it's easy to steal or mix and match elements according to individual taste.

A Visitor's Guide is attractively presented, with illustrations after the fashion of early modern woodcuts by Bill Spytma. Many NPCs are given portraits, which is not only charming but also evidence that a picture is worth a thousand words. The section on patrons, for instance, includes a depiction of each one and these go a long way toward conveying their personalities. The masked Elenia the Smuggler is clearly an elusive and mysterious individual, while the wizard Iambic Pentacular is intense and serious. This is of a piece with the overall design of the book, which emphasizes inspirational concision over specific detail. That's an approach I appreciate but it can have drawbacks. The maps of the city and its districts (by Andrew D. Devanney) are charming but not particularly useful, since there are no locales marked on it. 

I enjoyed reading A Visitor's Guide to the Rainy City. It's engagingly written and pleasing to look at and I found myself regularly imagining how I might use a location, an organization, and an NPC. For me, that's usually a good indication that I'm reading a good gaming product. For that reason, I'd recommend giving this one a look, particularly if you're interested in urban locales and adventures in a fantasy setting. 

The book is available as a PDF and as a print and PDF combo (which includes a separate folded map). 

RIP Lenard Lakofka (1944-2020)

Several people have contacted me to let me know that Lenard Lakofka died yesterday morning. 

Lakofka is, to my mind, one of the most underappreciated contributors to the growth and development of Dungeons & Dragons. His friendship with Gary Gygax predates the game's publication, owing to his involvement with the International Federation of Wargamers, of which he would eventually become president. Just as significantly, he produced a Diplomacy fanzine called Liaisons Dangereuses, in whose pages appeared multiple articles about D&D that were co-authored with Gary Gygax. As Gygax began working on AD&D, he frequently turned to Lakofka for aid and assistance and the final shape of the game owes a lot to their exchanges. 

In Chicago, Lakofka's home campaign was set in a location known as the Lendore Isles. The Lendore Isles were later incorporated into the published version of the The World of Greyhawk and served as the setting for the adventure modules he wrote for TSR. One of these, The Secret of Bone Hill, is a classic and arguably one of the best starting modules ever produced for the game. Lakofka also wrote a regular column for Dragon magazine entitled "Leomund's Tiny Hut." Leomund had been the name of his player character and is associated with numerous magic-user spells Lakofka created.

Back in 2009, I interviewed Lakofka, the results of which appeared in three parts. I'd recommend taking a look at them, if you haven't done so before. Lakofka had a lot to say about the early days of the hobby and the development of Dungeons & Dragons that I think are still quite fascinating today. In recent years, he had returned to writing and was a frequent guest at conventions.

He will be missed.

Lords of Chaos

Thanks to a kind reader, I now have a few copies of the early gaming fanzine, Lords of Chaos, whose first issue appeared in Spring 1977. The 'zine was produced by N.C. Shapero, who was a contributor to Lee Gold's Alarums & Excursions and the creator of the Other Suns RPG. It takes its name from Shapero's gaming club in Belmont, California. 

When time permits, I'll write a few posts about the 'zine and its contents. I'm particularly interested in the 'zine's contributors, some of whom eventually went on to work for prominent RPG companies of the era. I suspect too that I'll gain some further insights into the California gaming scene, since I'm fascinated by regional differences in the way RPGs (and wargames) were approached in the first decade of the hobby. 

More later!

Wizard Funk

One of the happiest developments of the last decade of gaming is the resurgence of fanzines. Dungeon Crawl Classics played a huge role in this resurgence and Goodman Games deserves a lot of credit for encouraging and promoting 'zines of all sorts. Fanzines are a great way to actively participate in this shared hobby of ours. There are now 'zines for nearly every game and taste and I highly recommend looking into some of them. I have no doubt you'll like what you see.

Earlier this month, the second issue of the digital-only fanzine, Wizard Funk, was released. It's a lively black and white offering, an homage to the APAs of the 1970s, right down to the typewriter-style fonts. The content is a mix of amateur fantasy art and RPG material. There are adventures, monsters, magic items, dungeons, rants – the whole range you'd expect to find in a 'zine emulating the spirit of the early days of the hobby. Best of all, each issue costs only $1, which is a steal, particularly for issue #2, which is 48 pages long and features lots of fun gaming content, as well as an interview with Allen Hammack.

I'm so happy to see products like Wizard Funk. They evoke everything that's best in the hobby and I hope we'll see more issues in the future. If there are any fanzines you would recommend, please post them in the comments. I'd love to know about more!

The World of Mansut

Over the years, I've come to adore fanzines. That might not seem like much of a surprise, since I produce two 'zines myself, but the truth is, aside from a few Traveller fanzines from the late '80s and early '90s, I didn't have a lot of experience with them until comparatively recently. They're a vital part of the hobby that I somehow never encountered. That's a shame, because they're an invaluable window into what people were doing with RPGs back in the day. Over the last few years, I've learned so much from reading the fanzines of the first decade of the hobby.

One 'zine I discovered recently is called simply Fantasy World and it had only one issue (December 1983) so far as I have been able to determine. Billing itself, the "Magazine of Fantasy and Fantasy Role-Playing Gaming," it was produced by Role Players' Workshop of Batesville, Indiana. Fantasy World is an amazing document of its era. Calling it a fanzine doesn't really do it justice, because it's over 100 pages in length and contains an immense amount of material, including a lengthy adventure – or "addventure," as it calls itself, playing off the fact that it's intended for use with AD&D – that is itself over 40 pages long. The whole thing is profusely illustrated by its editors, Candy and Rob Washburn, and appears to be handwritten rather than typed. 

For my money, the most remarkable things in the whole issue are its maps of the World of Mansut, the campaign setting for much of the material contained within. Maps, especially hand-drawn ones created for roleplaying games, always grab my attention. I've shared some of my own maps previously, but the ones in Fantasy World are much more impressive in my opinion. Take a look.

This is amazing stuff and exactly why fanzines are among my favorite gaming artifacts. If anyone knows more about Fantasy World, Role Players' Workshop, or the Washburns, I'd love to hear about it.

Looking in on The Manor

As I've mentioned before, I'm really enjoying Christian's Loviatar fanzine -- so much so in fact that I've been keeping my eye on several other fanzines popping up across the old school scene. One of these is The Manor by Tim Shorts of Gothridge Manor fame. Issue #1 came out in May, I believe, and I happily devoured its contents when I first received my print copy (the only way to enjoy fanzines, in my opinion). I've been meaning to make a little post about it for several weeks now, but one thing or another has kept me from doing so, much to my embarrassment. Life's been fairly busy round here, as regular readers may have noticed, but that's no excuse not to spread the love about Tim's delightful little fanzine.

Issue #1 is 24 pages in length and is available either in print or PDF. As I said, I much prefer the print edition, but I'm a Luddite who derives considerable pleasure from holding a book in my hand, so take that as you will. The issue begins with a brief introduction by Tim, where he lays out where he's coming from in writing and presenting The Manor. Of particular interest to me was his the section where he says:

I do this for fun, not to change minds or challenge gaming philosophies. I roll dice, laugh, and try to make my funny voices sound convincing.

I like that a lot and I'm glad Tim placed it in his introduction.

Following it is a "micro adventure" called "The Salt Pit," in which the characters are asked to investigate (naturally) a salt pit in which a mysterious creature has recently taken up residence, thereby disrupting the mining done there and placing the livelihood of a family in jeopardy. It's a very simple scenario and perhaps nothing we haven't seen many times before in various forms, but I like the little touches Tim added to breathed life into it. Immediately afterwards is a D12 table by Jason Sholtis called "There's Something Shiny in the Troglodyte Dung Heap," which is just what it says.

There's a fascinating little article called "Rural Pennsylvania: Ghoul House," which details a creepy house in Mercer County that's home to a lich. I like the idea behind this article, but it's a little short for my taste and it's unclear what game it's meant to be used with. The stats look like those for Swords & Wizardry; however, it's a modern-day locale. More successful and clear, I think, is "20 Random Forest Encounters." Like "The Salt Pit," the basic premise isn't something we haven't seen many times before, but it's filled with clever little tidbits that bring the encounters to life. The same is true of "Street Vendor: Oren's Boots," which describes a boot shop run by the eponymous Oren and his wife, Laura. Also described is a friend of Oren (and his mysterious past) and a selection of adventure hooks.

Issue #1 of The Manor is a solid premier issue, one that highlights what I like most about Tim Shorts's approach to gaming, namely his interest in investing even the most basic scenarios and encounters with little inspirational details, whether it's the magic potency of spiderwebs found in the forest, the grave of a beloved pet, or uses for bugbear hide. These all add interest to what might otherwise seem like well worn, even banal, gaming elements. It's my hope that, as further issues of The Manor are released, we'll see Tim continue in this vein, improving on the foundation he's established in the first issue.