ORIGINS of a HOBBY

A chronological study of some of the most important events leading to the first published modern RPG, TSR's Dungeons & Dragons, 1974.

ORIGINS of a HOBBY: from LONDON to LAKE GENEVA

1893: William Britain, Jr. invents hollow casting in lead.
Wm. Britain, Jr's new hollow casting technique uses less lead which revolutionizes the toy soldier market. The result is little lead men which are less expensive to both produce and ship, making the collectibles more affordable and available in large quantities. Competitors soon followed suit and toy soldiers were being mass produced for the first time in history. Amazingly enough it all started with little Billy who had just inherited the toy company and didn't know the difference between dry measure and liquid measure. Junior went on to sell his toy soldiers across the globe, often delivering them by hand to such remote regions as Paris, France and nearby French Indochina.

1910: The Great War Game, Hanks.
Possibly the first published wargame designed for use with toy soldiers. Date not verified. Marketed in the U.K. as a game for Boy Scouts, it apparently did not prepare them for Tanks, Machine Guns, Mustard Gas or Barbed Wire. Unfortunately the supplement, The Great Dig a Trench War Game, never made it to publication. Interestingly enough, the game predated The Great War itself by four years. That's World War I in case you haven't been paying attention...ever.

1913: Little Wars, H. G. Wells.

Widely considered the first published wargame for miniature figures. By renaming the toy soldiers “miniature figures” and adding serious rules for shooting a toy cannon at them, adults could continue behaving like children in dignity. According to observers, Mr. Wells was notorious for making up house rules on the spot while playing Little Wars. Herbert would later use some of these personal house rules as inspiration for his most famous novels: The Time Machine (take an extra turn), The Invisible Man (add new troops mid game), War of the Worlds (bring random objects such as colanders to the field), and The Sleeper Awakes (enemy soldiers knocked over by Kipper the family Corgi were “dead”).

1929: ShamBattle, Dowdall & Gleason.

First U.S. Wargame for miniature figures. The major advantage on this side of the pond was access to Lincoln Logs, another toy which adults need a good reason to play with. The game's subtitle, Quixotic Reenactment, is one of gaming's strange, ironic twists. Not really. Entertainment trivia buffs will note that one of the coauthors is better known for his ongoing role as the lovable town drunk Otis in the long running television series The Andy Griffith Show.

1936: Real War threatens.

Hints of the struggle soon to come in Europe and across the globe are evident when Germany declares that the first true wargame was the Kriegsspiel, produced by Prussian army lieutenant von Reisswitz in 1824. Seeking to prove to the rest of Europe that England's Little Wars claims were hollow, Germany was gearing up for war. Then a rift in the Kriegsspiel methodology and doctrine divides the military minds into two distinct camps; those insisting on the 1824 von Reisswitz version, and those backing the more modern 1862 von Tschischwitz game. War is averted as die Alte Schule and die Neue Schule create an impasse in the German military machine. That and the imposing Maginot Line had German Officers wringing their hands in frustration for years.

1943: Fletcher Pratt's Naval War Game, Fletcher Pratt.
Perhaps if his pal L. Sprague had been involved the title for Fletcher Pratt's widely famous game would've been more clever, but Mr. de Camp was busy revealing the sordid truth behind the H. G. Wells Little Wars myth. Outrageous claims leveled against H.G. included de Camp insisting that the Little Wars subtitle, “a game for boys from twelve years of age to one hundred and fifty and for the more intelligent sort of girl who likes boy's games and books” was clear evidence that Mr. Wells was an unrepentant male chauvinist. Wellsians to this day have not forgiven the misguided de Camp.

1958: Gettysburg, Avalon Hill.

Gettysburg, along with other Avalon Hill Adult Games series titles, takes the battle away from miniatures and to the military boardgame. Gettysburg took the miniature figures world head on, redefining wargaming forever. Modern versions of this classic game feature Architecture Buffs defending the Cyclorama Visitor's Center and Gift Shop from History Buffs on a headlong Picket's Charge maneuver.

1959: Diplomacy, Allan B. Calhamer.

A military boardgame of strategy, negotiation and psychology with no dice and an optional GM/Judge. Optional as in if anyone wants to go home alive after the game you'd better make sure you have one. One of the first games to encourage lying and backstabbing, Diplomacy has established itself as a true classic. The more realistic house ruled version encourages cheating; eavesdropping and hiding, altering or peeking at notes. The game was a popular pastime behind the scenes during the Nixon administration. CAD (Citizens Against Diplomacy) blame the evil game for Richard's inexplicable activities during Watergate, and have been seeking to ban it ever since.

1966: Modern War in Miniature, Michael F. Korns.

First wargame with individual player-controlled Characters and a GM/Judge. And now we arrive at the first true RPG. Or is it a wargame? Well, it's both, and Modern War in Miniature includes a GM who sets everything up and can explain exactly why the Panzerkampfwagen VI was actually a better fit for the Wehrmacht than the SdKfz 182 Konigstiger. The original manuscripts for the game were tragically lost when the author used too much lighter fluid while melting plastic soldiers in a miniature flame-thrower encounter and set off a brick of fire-crackers. In perhaps history's first display of GM ad-lib aplomb, Michael declared that the battle was postponed on account of the Brits celebrating Guy Fawkes Night.

1966: Fight in the Skies, Mike Carr.

First RPG/wargame with persistent Characters and Experience. Still going strong, this game's newer version is called Dawn Patrol. It is the only game that has been played at every single GENCON since the first, in 1968. Of note is the fact that 2004 was the first GENCON where Mike Carr wasn't the only participant to sign-up for and play the game. Coincidentally, the 2004 convention also marked the end of Mr. Carr's record-setting 35 year run as Top Ace of GENCON. Rumors are that Mike Carr will unveil his “Snoopy Sopwith Gambit” at GENCON 41 this year in one last ditch effort to win back his hard earned title.

1969: Braunstein I, David Wesely.

Considered the first Open-Ended RPG/wargame sessions (not published). If it hadn't been for the players clamoring for another, that would have been the last Braunstein, as Wesely considered the whole thing a failure. Truth be told, Wesely had planned to come up with the worst possible game night ever for the club in hopes that they wouldn't ask him to run anything again. Wesely arrived for the game with no preparations, and figured if he just "winged it" all night his goal would be accomplished. When that backfired David was finally able to escape the constant "More Braunstein!" demands by joining the US Army. Wesely is credited with introducing polyhedral dice to gaming, laying the groundwork for the modern RPG, and inventing Thumb Wrestling.

1971: Chainmail, Gygax & Perren.

First published fantasy wargame for miniature figures. Regardless of which story you believe, Gygax's or Arneson's, it seems quite clear that Chainmail was a vital part of the concept that Dave Arneson formulated the same year with his Blackmoor campaign. Chainmail is an important piece of the puzzle detailing how modern RPGs came to be. Prior to the Fantasy Supplement section, Chainmail was published in two parts in The Domesday Book, the newsletter of the Castles & Crusades Society. Other articles included alongside Chainmail were Fabricating your first Beer Bong, Electric Jello: a How To, Hamms versus Pabst: the Debate Continues, and A Guide to Satisfying the Munchies.

1971: Tractics, Reese & Tucker.

The first wargame to use 20-sided dice. A game of modern tank battles, it required a d20 in order to establish the base 30% (15 or higher) chance to hit another tank. This was before the advent of the 10-sided die. The game borrowed from Michael Korns' Modern War in Miniature in that a GM/Judge was required to adjudicate the fog of war. The rules served to display the greater numeric range and higher level of detail possible with the d20. The game's major drawback was the sheer amount of set-up time involved. The rules were written on a scale of 1:1, meaning real-life tanks had to be employed. Reese and Tucker were last seen trying to secure a refurbished British Comet tank in 2001, near Brighton, Sussex, England. The very first Tractics game should be underway by the end of 2012.

1971: Blackmoor Castle, Dave Arneson.

Dave Arneson introduces Teamwork, Dungeons and other essential fantasy RPG concepts to his Twin Cities Club. Grows into the first fantasy Campaign, eventually defining the modern RPG (not published). Dave Arneson blended, borrowed, meshed and tested anything and everything while running his early, experimental games. It was the concept that continues, to this day, to shine through, no matter what form it has taken. This was the beginning of the modern RPG. Certain details of Blackmoor found their way into published form in The First Fantasy Campaign from Judges Guild. Notable players in those first Blackmoor sessions included Greg “Svenny” Svenson, Stephen “Rocky” Rocheford, Mike “von Ricthofen” Carr and future professional golfer “Fairway” Freddy Funk. The earliest participants in Blackmoor actually took on the role of their real life personae, except for role-playing pioneer Bill “Three-Dollar” Hastings, who insisted on playing as Annette Funicello's Dee Dee from the uproarious 1965 film, Beach Blanket Bingo.

1972: Castle Greyhawk, Gygax & Kuntz.

After seeing how Arneson ran a Blackmoor session, Gary Gygax and Rob Kuntz collaborate to create their own version of Blackmoor Castle for their Lake Geneva Club, naming it Castle Greyhawk (not published). Given an outlet for his writing skills, Gary Gygax never looked back. The World of Greyhawk which was born of these early days remains a strong, viable fantasy campaign setting. What really stands out is the passion and verve with which Gary undertook the labor of bringing life to his imaginary world. A world which has seen countless fans and players of Dungeons & Dragons through the decades. It is said the very first expedition into Castle Greyhawk, consisting of Gary as Referee, and his son Ernie, Don Kaye, and the Kuntz brothers Rob and Terry as players, was almost a complete disaster due to Gary's insistence that all participants speak entirely in anagrams. Eventually the session was saved when it turned into an evening of experience point rewards for clever puns and one-liners. Although the dungeon entrance was not discovered on that initial adventure, the characters did happen upon the now infamous Concession Stand of Endless Hot Dogs in the castle ruins.

1972: Don't Give Up the Ship! Arneson, Gygax & Carr.
The first in a long line of collaborations from the creative team of Dave and Gary. Mike Carr contributed research and quite a bit of the writing and design here as well. In fact, he impressed the TSR guys so much that he went on to write the now famous module B1: In Search of the Unknown, and edited the first three AD&D books: Monster Manual, Player's Handbook, and the Dungeon Master's Guide. Now he writes about snowmobiles and pursues his first love, World War I Ace Pilots from his secluded Wisconsin mansion, Quasqueton. Sources say there is indeed a room within full of mysterious pools. You guessed it, I don't have anything to say about Don't Give Up the Ship! at all. I'm sure it's a fine wargame, as Naval wargames go. I only wish that Arneson and Gygax had followed the theme of the game's title and continued working together.

1974: Dungeons & Dragons, Gygax & Arneson.

The first published modern RPG. And thus, here we are at the end of the time line. Sure, some things have changed out there in RPG land, but truly the modern RPG is, at it's core, still the same product we were given in 1974 by Gygax and Arneson. The concept is the thing, the rules are secondary. Whether you prefer rolling dice to role-playing, that's fine. Whether you prefer open-ended sand-box play to story-telling narrative games, that's fine. Don't like dice? They're not needed. This rule or that rule makes no sense? Change it. The critics can lay whatever claims they care to at the feet of 1974's Dungeons & Dragons game, but it's the concept that was conveyed within those three volumes that matters. Whether or not Gygax changed every single mechanic that Arneson had devised is likewise irrelevant. 1974 saw the introduction of a new concept in gaming, and the world stood up and took notice. In one form or another, D&D and the concept it unleashed upon mankind will always be with us...until Domesday that is.

Special thanks to Bob Beattie for his Wargaming Time-Line. I make no claims of ownership of the above titles or affiliation with the parties involved. As to my historical facts, parties wishing to dispute my findings may do so over a cold beer at an undisclosed local watering hole.

~Sham, Quixotic Referee

What If?

Remember that old Marvel Comics series? No? That’s OK. I’m playing it today anyway here at Ye Auld Grog and Blog. What If…Dave Arneson, rather than Gary Gygax, had wrested control of D&D? What If, by some strange twist of fate, Gary had returned to the insurance business, and left the direction of D&D to Blackmoor’s creator, Dave Arneson?

Less prose and more punch

Less realism and more free wheelin’

Less medieval and more alien invasion

Less tables and more what the f**k just happened

Less concern about standardized tournament rules and more kung-fu theatre

Less D&D is fantasy, and more D&D is anything you can imagine…D&D is a concept; not a place or time in history or mythology

I love me some Gygax ‘purple prose’ as James M calls it. On the other hand, I wonder…What If?

~Sham, Quixotic Referee

No Sith, Sherlock

I’m a big fan of Dungeons & Dragons, Vol. III, The Underworld & Wilderness Adventures. More than any of the original trilogy of rules, this volume actually aids the neophyte Referee in understanding how to prepare and play a session of D&D. Does it answer all of the questions that arise when preparing to take the plunge into the whole role playing concept? No. Nothing replaces actually playing and learning through hands-on experience, but whereas Volume I is mostly the actual ‘rules’ of the game, and Volume II gives examples and ‘stats’ for Monsters and Treasure, Volume III puts forth a decent effort in pulling the whole concept together into a cohesive system. It spells out exactly HOW to play.

Granted, a large portion of this third volume has never seen any use in my own campaigns. I am referring to pages 25-35, which cover rules for handling various rarely used (again, in MY campaigns to date) combat situations. Despite this fact, I find myself coming back more and more frequently to appreciate the importance on this little book. It’s essentially the Father of my favorite D&D book ever, the Dungeon Master’s Guide by Gary Gygax. It’s missing the game rules that are found in Volume I in this original set, and the treasure that is found in Volume II, but otherwise it’s information intended for the Referee’s eyes only. It wraps everything up in a nice, neat, tidy format and says, “OK, so here’s how the previous two volumes are intended to be used.” And when I say “nice, neat, tidy format” I actually mean “disorganized, vague, ever so fun to peruse format”. So sue me, I like the rough around the edges feel of the ‘Real Thing’ that is Dungeons & Dragons (aka OD&D).

Less often these days I find something ‘new’ to my eyes within these pages, but I still enjoy picking up all three volumes and spending a few moments reading a passage or a table contained therein. While working on my current project for Fight On!, my mind was wandering and the seeds of a separate adventure (in other words, an idea that simply would NOT fit within my current project) were being sown. I decided to refocus a bit and grabbed the volume I’ve been sticking my nose into more frequently of late. Lo and behold, on page 19, an interesting outdoor random encounter met my eyes.

Optional Arid Plains, a result of 8 on a d12 caught my fancy. Yep. Sith! Poor saps. I can see it now;

Our intrepid adventurers, searching for the Long Lost Geegaw of Golliwag, trekking near and far, seemingly lost and at the edge of madness, spy a dark figure approaching them. Flowing black cloak whippping in the wind, jet black armor glinting in the sunlight, the mysterious visage appears to be accompanied by a pack of (result 5 on a d12) White Apes toting ebony crossbows. The party weighs their options: Flee, Parley, Fight. The choice is clear, given the flat, trackless environs, Parley, but prepare for melee. As the black figure closes in, he motions his White Apes to hold, and approaches the party of adventurers rather boldly. Just as the player character leader of the band begins to open his mouth to speak, the dark figure draws a blazing, glowing sword of bright red energy, and with a flick of his other hand sends the party leader flying through the air with some immense, invisible, telekinetic force. Landing unceremoniously thirty feet behind his adventuring mates, the leader thinks he sees a brightly costumed figure flying through the air, directly at the silent, black cloaked menace, just before he blacks out from pain.

Sith, huh? Honestly I don’t recognize many of the other entries on that particular Arid Plains table. My best guess is perhaps these are more Edgar Rice Burroughs influences. There’s already a cool Desert (Mars) table on page 18, just before this one, that likewise includes Tharks. Result 2 on a d12 for the Arid Plains table is Banths! Ya think George Lucas was a John Carter fan? Aren’t the big mounts in his sci-fi space opera called Banthas? Yeah, I think there’s a pattern here.

I know that SITH is an acronym for Sick In The Head, but this deserves further research. So this led me to turn to the infallible world wide web, and Google the word ‘Sith’. After sithing...err sifting through the first several pages of results, I found a reference NOT related to Star Wars. Awesome! As it turns out, Sith is Gaelic (or Celtic) for…get ready for it…‘Fairy’. Furthermore, the mythical Cu Sith, or ‘Fairy Dog’, is a huge canine with a greenish coat. Didn’t sound familiar to me until I further read that Cu Sith is pronounced "Coo Shee".

The results of my brief and utterly unscientific research have led me to a few conclusions: that Cooshee isn’t just some lame throwaway entry from Gygax’s Monster Manual II (it’s actually based on Celtic Myth); that George Lucas was/is a John Carter fan boy; and that Darth Vader is, in fact, a Fairy.

But what of our intrepid adventurers, face to face with some deranged Referee’s ad lib version of a Sith encountered in an Optional Arid Plains setting? By now you may have guessed, that rather than end the campaign here so unceremoniously, the Referee thought quickly on his toes, and placed the party, unbeknownst to them at the time, between two heated adversaries. Yep, that fleeting glimpse of a colorfully costumed flying figure was indeed the Lord of a nearby Fortress, found on the Occupant column for the random Castle Guards/Retainers table on page 15, to be exact, result 2 on a d6.

And the party leader gains consciousness to witness his unscathed companions enjoying delicious piping hot mugs of result 4 on the d4 roll in that Occupant’s row.

I’m sure glad to have Volume III to show me how to play this game that lets me pit the players against sci-fi and comic book characters, with modern trappings to take the edge off. Now, make mine a Grande Coffee of the Day, black please.

~Sham, Quixotic Referee

Thank You Sir Fang!

The wonders of the internet never cease to amaze me. I’ve learned more about the history of D&D this year alone than I ever did in the nearly thirty previous years combined. This nugget of wisdom from the OG, Mike Mornard, made me realize that my favorite class, the Cleric, got it’s start as a foil to a player’s Vampire character. Pretty wild stuff.

So, I felt it appropriate, in light of this newfound bit of historical information, to take a moment to say Thank You, Sir Fang! And also thank you to his player in Dave Arneson's game, Dave Fant (see the comments section for further information about Sir Fang, posted by Philotomy).

So here’s to Sir Fang, who I can only assume was dispatched forthwith by the Vampire-Hunter character devised to rid the world of the diabolical undead master. Arriving on the scene, brave hearted, clad in shining mail, exhorting his faithful brethren, and fearlessly brandishing his silver cross in the face of the dastardly, unsuspecting Sir Fang. With that, Sir Fang was sent back to the grave, for good this time, as the Vampire ended up permanently on page 9 of Monsters & Treasure, while the Vampire-Hunter character won the admiration of his fellow heroes, those men of light, and became, ultimately, that most awesome class of the OD&D three-pronged crown, the Cleric.

I’m sure that’s not at all how it actually happened, more likely the Cleric wasn’t defined into it’s OD&D form until after the fact, as alluded to in OG’s post. What certainly transpired was a titanic struggle that forever changed the face of the as yet unpublished game, D&D. If Sir Fang had managed to slay his newborn arch nemesis, the Vampire-Hunting Priest aka Cleric, perhaps we would all be playing a game called Castles & Clerics now, taking on the role of those evil victors of that legendary struggle between man and undead, between good and bad, between light and dark. Thankfully, the good guys won, and we ended up with Dungeons & Dragons. And I ended up with my most cherished class, the oft maligned Cleric.

I’ve always been mystified in regard to the generally poor attitude of many of my fellow OD&D fans concerning the Cleric. I have gained insight into this fact recently, that there seems to be some opinion that the class isn’t a pulp or fantasy archetype, unlike the Fighting-Man and the Magic User. I’ve always thought of Clerics as those devout members of the Church who take the fight directly to the dungeons and wilds of the D&D world, furthering the cause of their God in a more direct fashion than those priestly members of the Church who serve followers while worshipping amongst the safety of civilization. A proto-Paladin, if you will.

Still others view the Cleric as an underpowered and undeserving Player Character choice in a D&D campaign. I take exception to this myth. I do believe that, perhaps, many players simply don’t like the idea of being the ‘party healer’. The OD&D Cleric can be so much more, though, if one can look past this common misconception.

I will grant you that in OD&D, the Cleric has an extremely limited spell selection. Only 26 spells are available, and of those only 10 are available through 5th Level. In many campaigns, 5th Level is fairly experienced. Compared to the Magic User, who gets access to 32 different spells at 5th Level, the Cleric seems to get rather short-changed. But let’s compare the three classes assuming that Level 5 is the ‘meat’ of the campaign.

At 1st Level, the Cleric is a beast. It’s almost laughably unfair to the Fighting-Men and Magic Users of the world. Granted, Magic Users are a particularly limited class at the lowest levels, one-trick ponies who will benefit more from a high CHA score than their own spells. Fighting-Men are assumed to be the backbone of the adventuring party, there to absorb the brunt of melee, and to protect the spell-casters until they can come into their own, as it were. Consider this, if you will; Clerics and Fighting-Men have nearly identical Hit Points through 4th Level (Clerics have 1 HP less); they have the same Fighting Capability (attack columns) at Levels 1-3, and Level 5 (it is only at Level 4 that the FM has an advantage); they have identical AC potential at all Levels; Clerics have superior Saving Throw scores, except at 4th Level, or vs. Dragon Breath (let’s hope the PC’s don’t roll on that column often at Level 5 and lower). The two classes are fairly equal thus far. Sure the FM has the full weapon selection to choose from, but they all deal 1d6 in OD&D. FM are the only class able to wield Magic Swords, which can be beneficial, or detrimental. Juxtapose these two advantages with the two unique Cleric abilities: Turn Undead and divine magic.

Is it even a contest?

By 5th Level, a Magic User has certainly become rather potent. Access to 32 spells, including one of those juicy 3rd Level spells. Rest assured that the MU didn’t make it to the rarified air of Level 5 on his own, though. Still, even with his arsenal of seven spells per day at this level, the MU has no armor and the lowest HP pool.

What can the Cleric bring to the fight at 5th Level? A decent HP pool, strong Fighting Capability, excellent Saving Throw scores and AC, Turn Undead, and, in power-gaming terms, two Cures and two Hold Person spells. The Cures, of course, are for himself in order that he might continue to show his two less capable brethren how to successfully smite evil, and to remind them of their error in judgment when they chose their profession. Don’t mess with the Church!

OK, so you get it, Sham likes Clerics. All of this is just an exercise in futility…none of us play D&D with a single class, and the three classes are almost designed to complement one another. Furthermore, OD&D is not and never has been about who is most powerful; it is about teamwork and having fun by overcoming obstacles together. It’s also rather obvious that I picked a sweet spot to use for this comparison, at higher levels, the FM and the MU begin to eclipse the Cleric in sheer power. No matter the level of the party the Cleric remains a vital part of the adventure, and will always contribute to the success of a campaign. That said, if I were a betting man, and I was given a single character and charged with getting him or her to 5th Level, there’s little doubt which class I would pick. For pure survivability, the Cleric wins, and it's not even close...at all.

The Cleric IS a gaming archetype now, thanks in no small part to Sir Fang. The Cleric is D&D's own Son, an archetype built through the decades by it's own gaming heritage. I think we should celebrate and embrace that fact. The Cleric embodies the creative spirit of our hobby, and for a class with no true literary archetype in pulp or fantasy before the arrival of D&D, that little idea that sprung forth during some of Dave Arneson's games has certainly taken on a life of it's own.

Now, let’s hope none of the players in my Solstice campaign which begins in 18 days read this, lest they all show up with Cleric Player Characters…which gets me thinking, how cool would a Cleric only campaign be…? OK, I’ll stop now, and throw out one last hearty Thank You, Sir Fang!

Just remember this sage advice, as I quote that last little blurb from Mike Mornard’s earlier referenced post:

WE MADE UP SOME SHIT THAT WE THOUGHT WOULD BE FUN.

See, Clerics ARE fun! I now have the proof.

~Sham, Quixotic Referee

See Peas?

Us D&D folks bandy around the term Player Character (PC) on a regular basis, a term meaning those individual characters within a campaign that are controlled by a player. The rest of the characters in a campaign are Non-Player Characters (NPC’s), meaning they are, for the most part, left to fend for themselves in a world of deadly traps and ferocious monsters. Aside from having a very unwieldy title (I mean come on, couldn’t Gygax have done better than NPC?), NPC’s must compete with one another for attention from the default ‘player’ or controller of this multitude of thousands, the Dungeon Master. Most DM’s, at least the ones I am most able to identify with, are busy making the world turn on it’s axis, and consider NPC’s to be just another game facet, a demanding lot who need d20’s rolled for them, Morale checks made, and have funny, unique voices which need to be mimicked.

It’s no wonder, then, that PC’s get to hog the limelight in most campaigns. A PC boasts his very own individual player, a player who is able to carefully craft that character’s personality. These Character Players (CP’s), normally referred to as simply ‘players’, as opposed to the overtaxed god of the campaign, the DM himself, are able to spend countless amounts of creative effort on such tasks as sketching their PC, doodling fanciful weapons and filigree along the margins of their over-sized character record sheets, and rolling dice for the character in a thoughtful, meaningful manner. These PC’s clomp around in the vast, dark pits of the deep down, claiming the hoards of gold and gems hidden carefully there by the DM, and boast about their hard-earned artifacts, stolen from the clutches of the very guardians whom the DM awarded these priceless items to in the first place.

It’s time we take these blue bloods down a peg.

Perhaps the worst nightmare for any CP is the dreaded NPC Party, NPCP for short. These blokes are the anti-thesis of the PC. NPCP’s are not burdened by inter party bickering, they boast character record sheets, which aside from sketches and margin filigree, are as detailed as any PC sheet, and they have a knack for turning up at just the right time during a dungeon crawl. It’s as if they are DM-blessed. These NPCP’s possess an almost mystical single-mindedness, working flawlessly as a team, like a well-oiled machine they spring into action, unleashing their most potent abilities as if their resources were unlimited. Luckily for the CP’s, these NPC’s don’t normally seem too concerned with the trappings and treasure within the very halls of mystery in which they are encountered, their sole purpose, apparently, is to take the PC’s down a peg. In this regard, they are unparalleled. Exactly how they perform their goal is never known by the PC’s upon first encountering such a devilish collection of walking, breathing anti-PC’s.

Perhaps the NPCP will appear to be helpful, their presence alone in the campaign will unsettle the CP’s, who for so long have thought themselves to be the Heroes of the campaign. Perhaps the NPCP will be in friendly competition with the PC’s, this alone has been known to drive CP’s to irrational decision making, daring them to push the borders of safety and threatening to force them to hand their carefully crafted, doodle covered character record sheets to the DM after an untimely death. Perhaps the NPCP is truly helpful, in which case such a scenario will nearly always end up in fisticuffs as the CP’s know that, ultimately, all NPCP’s are evil incarnate. Worst of all, perhaps these NPCP’s are actually pursuing the PC’s, or preparing a devious ambush in some illogical spot in the deep down, surrounded by traps and monsters from within and without. Such tactics truly confound the CP’s, as they try to piece together exactly how such a band of DM controlled NPC’s wound up there in the first place. But aha! Only such DM-blessed characters are able to understand the unnatural laws of the campaign world.

Not that I would ever stoop to such measures in any of my campaigns. This is, after all, a post made with tongue firmly planted in cheek.

Despite all of their uniqueness, sprung from the fact that are born with CP’s to guide them, all PC’s have a fatal flaw. They do inherit much of the traits of their own CP. No amount of role playing will ever mask the fact that they are only as capable as their CP. Thus, we, the DM’s , get to play on these traits and exploit them. We challenge them endlessly, with static obstacles in the form of tricks and traps to befuddle them, with carefully planned encounters set forth to test their mettle, with random wandering monster encounters to keep them on their toes, and with the very lay-out of the dungeons they are so eager to record on maps. Somehow, in the end, they persevere. It might not be on their first attempt, but CP’s are a staunch lot, and unerringly return, often with new PC’s, to conquer such challenges. Through all of this, the PC is still bound by the laws of CP capability. As the CP’s work together and progress through the campaign, we, the DM’s, see these traits. They are unmistakable.

Over the years I have been able to witness and identify some of these CP traits. As such, I want to share some CP personalities that I have been lucky enough to witness in their natural habitat, hunkered down in dim basements, slurping Mountain Dew or more potent libations, with rat like paws caked in Dorito dust. Bright lights often make them freeze in their tracks, and they can become panic-stricken when deprived of their need for constant grazing.

The Rules Lawyer: These guys think memorizing and quoting rules will always save their bacon. Using the rules as such a crutch always ends badly for this player.

The Paranoid Player: Everything and everyone in the campaign is a threat, often including the other PC’s. As likely to save the party from deception as he is to cause a total party kill.

The Anti-DM: “The DM is the opponent, I will defeat him and his cronies. The game and dungeon is a competition, I will overcome every obstacle and claim victory for myself.”

The Jerk: Always knows of other, much better DMs and campaigns. He himself would have handled rulings in a more logical manner. All of your ideas are hackneyed.

The Cut-Up: Nearly everything he focuses his energies on is designed to be funny. Creates many memorable moments, but his pranks often rile the other players.

The Punster: Makes incessant, often hilarious puns. Also known as the Horse-Flogger. Has an almost magical power to make everyone at the table *sigh*, seemingly at will.

Spock: Logical, cautious, thoughtful. More apt to panic when things get really bad. Able to think out tricks and traps, and often likes to slow the game down to his own, methodical pace.

Lazy Larry: Won’t map, won’t be the caller, won’t remember important things. Normally has one go to tactic that he uses to no end.

The Freeloader: Never brings snacks or drinks, is always first in line when magic items are distributed. Whines the loudest when he thinks he is being treated unfairly.

The Lemming: The ‘happy to be here’ guy, always follows and can bring a dungeon crawl to a halt if forced to make a decision. Stops for constant ‘team meetings’ if he ever winds up as the party Caller.

The Devious Note Passer: The progenitor of inter party disputes. I wish I had had the foresight to save such notes from campaigns past. Things like “No Anchovies for me.”

The Yawner: Always has something better to do. Unless the attention is upon his PC, he quickly loses interest. Able to derail party cohesiveness with his idle chat about Battlestar Galactica.

Pig Pen: Messy, disorganized character sheets, messy disheveled dude. Always leaves a mess post session for the DM to clean up. Has never invested in men’s toiletries.

The Dice Hurler: Very enthusiastic about rolling dice. Known to break light bulbs and scamper after dice that miss the table. Progenitor of the house rule that if the die didn’t land on the table, it doesn’t count. Most of his rolls that end up out on the patio are natural 20’s.

The Hermit: D&D is the only reason he leaves his cave. Bright light downright frightens this player, nearly as much as soap or the notion of exercise.

I’m probably forgetting some of the rarer forms of CP’s. I hope to be able to identify further types in the future.

I must say that I know many of the above CP’s have a similar list of DM types. Monty Hall, Doctor Death-Ray, Mr. Monotone, The Lecturer, etc.

And the worst one of all, the smart ass poking fun at players DM with far too much time on his hands…Sham.

~Sham

Campaign Jokes, and animal training.

One of the many great aspects of D&D campaigns, at least for me and my troupe of pun loving fellow game nerds, was the ongoing joke. These jokes, inside jokes, campaign jokes, would rear their ugly heads for session upon session upon session, sometimes creeping into play years after they first saw the light of day, other times reappearing after a long absence.

They never seemed to get old.

The best ones, were of course, entirely unscripted. I think that whenever you get a bunch of guys to sit around and talk about anything, whether it’s last night’s football game, or how they are going to possibly retrieve a dead Dwarf from a 50’ deep pit, jokes will result. If you continue to gather this same group of guys together, they will continue to rehash the same old jokes.

None of these are particularly humorous to outsiders. Thus, we have the definition of inside jokes. A bunch of guys laughing at some past event that, at the time, was funny. Now, they are laughing in memory of that humorous moment from long ago.

D&D campaign jokes are really just the same thing, an inside joke that brings back fond, often pun filled gaming moments.

In particular, I believe that gamers and long gaming sessions can often devolve into absolute silliness. It’s a sure sign of game fatigue. There is though, an interval, a period, this time where the players are on the cusp of fatigue, but still have their senses about them. This is truly the campaign joke zone. The best humor occurs here. If the jokes overwhelm the game, that interval has ended, and it’s time to back off and wrap up that session.

There’s nothing wrong with a bunch of laughter and carrying-on around the game table, as a matter of fact this is one of the best elements of D&D (or any table top, social game). It’s just plain fun to relax with your pals and enjoy a laugh (or thirty).

We had a handful of campaign jokes, most of which I’ve probably forgotten, but will surely be reminded of when we play again.

One of our long time players, Tom, had a knack for unintentional humor. Tom was a big, lovable teddy bear of a guy. Often times a day dreamer, but most times a very insightful and thoughtful player. Tom would come up with some whacky ideas that would send the other players into fits of laughter at times.

In one of my particularly old campaigns, circa 1982 or so, Tom was playing a Druid if I recall correctly. During the course of an adventure, Tom had encountered a Giant Weasel, and had been allowed to Speak With Animals and convince the beast to follow him around for a bit. Tom continued to use Speak With Animals each day, slowly becoming more and more friendly with this Giant Weasel. During a return trip to town and the local inn in which the party had been boarding, I asked each player what it was they were going to do now. When I posed the question to Tom, his straight faced response was “I am going to go up to my room and Train My Weasel.” I may as well have packed up my maps and notes right then and there.

Immediately it was asked if that was a fancy way of saying he was going on a date with Rosie Palmer. “And her five sisters” it was added. You know the rest, Spank The Monkey, Choke The Chicken, etc.

Well, for years that joke resurfaced. I mean, for YEARS. To this day it still makes me chuckle.

~Sham

D&D by Gygax and Arneson

My love for games and in particular role playing games and the entire dice rolling experience began almost 30 years ago in what is now, at best, a cloudy recollection of events. I’m not even sure at this point how I heard about D&D. Certainly none of the kids in my neighborhood were playing it, or even talking about it for that matter. It wasn’t something that had reached the middle school level (not my school, anyway). As best I can recall, I discovered it myself at a hobby shop. I saw the books, the funky dice, the miniatures…like most kids of that age, I was very curious, with a mind like a sponge, coupled with the fact that at that time I was enamored with comic books and games in general. It certainly helped having an older brother who liked fantasy and sci fi books, and who had some pals that played strange Avalon Hill games like Diplomacy. In other words, I was shown how to let my inner nerd out of the closet at a very young age. (And I later learned how to shut it back into the closet in high school and college, but that’s another topic).

I believe I begged my Mom to buy me the Holmes Basic box at some point, during a visit to the hobby shop, me not even knowing exactly what it was. I think in that same visit D1 was purchased. I vividly remember reading D1 on the way home in the car, but being upset I couldn’t find certain features of D1 anywhere in the rule book! This was very disturbing to me at the time, I knew something was amiss. Luckily, the box had another module included. Even though my earliest memories are of B2, I’m pretty sure in retrospect that my Holmes Box included B1 (which I honestly completely forgot ever owning until recently when I found a very old copy of it in my parents attic while searching for the above mentioned Holmes Box, which, by the way, I have not relocated).

My very first D&D session was shortly thereafter. After another trip to the hobby shop to just soak in more information, and stare at all of this D&D stuff, I convinced my Mom to buy B2 for me. I tried to get her to pay for The PHB (I knew I needed it after reading D1...what exactly were all of these spells that that Lich could cast. It was tearing me up!), but no dice. I think the DMG had just come out, but this whole AD&D thing was so…expensive! According to my Mom it was, anyway. I’m 100% sure that I didn’t actually believe it was expensive at that time, being 12 or 13 years old. I was sure that I HAD to have all this AD&D stuff, after all I wasn’t a kid anymore, I didn’t need Basic D&D. I HAD to have Advanced! It must be better, it’s ‘advanced‘ for crying out loud!

So, returning home with B2 in hand, I decided enough time had been spent reading the rules…it was time to try out this game called D&D. I had my friend Alex come over, and made my Mom play with us. I did my best to describe the rules to them, and they made some characters and off we went. I laid the module cover down flat on the game table, so everyone could see the map of the dungeon. I asked them where did they want to go, and told them what was in each room, and gave an idea of exactly how strong the monsters in various areas were, and they agreed to start with the Kobold area. I do remember my Mom rolling a d6 so they could begin moving on the map. I had to stop at this point and go over the rules again *sigh*.

That’s my first D&D memory, a self taught youngster who was ready for advanced, but mired in basic.

So, what exactly does this mildly anecdotal introduction have to do with the original D&D, as penned by Gygax & Arneson? I’m glad you asked!

It wasn’t until a few months later that my friend Alex introduced me to this other kid who had recently moved into the area, a kid named Lee. Lee was a year older than us, liked skateboards too, and played D&D! I had never met anyone else who played or even knew what D&D was! So, it was agreed that we would play D&D with Lee, in his established campaign, at the first opportunity. Alex never made the group or the sessions (his Mom was like that sometimes, Alex never ever even played D&D again as far as I know…which just boggles the mind after having such an excellent teacher show him the ropes of D&D).

Apparently I had misinterpreted a few of the finer details about D&D, for the first session I joined in on was, shall we say, incomprehensibly good beyond all possible expectations of preteen geeky dreaming. At that point, I was prepared to leave all worldly cares behind, to never so much as rise from the gaming table, not even for food or drink, I was prepared to sit there, rolling dice and battling Orcs forevermore, exploring the deep, dark dungeons of the underworld, and possibly sending messages home via carrier pigeon to my parents that all was well, at least once a fortnight. And then it was dinnertime, and we all had to shove off and allow Lee to eat with his real family. Nevertheless, I was hooked. Forever. Luckily parental units had interceded or else I bet we all would’ve passed out from starvation at any minute.

Amongst the many revelations from that first session were these strange, almost erudite little brown books, and even a little white one with a naked lady on it. No one was using Holmes or AD&D. This was truly old fashioned stuff, it must‘ve been from like the mid 70‘s or something! I quickly came to realize, though, that these little books must have spelled the rules out much more clearly, because the game ran smoothly with very little rules referencing, and clearly there had been no confusion about some of the basic D&D conventions that I had somehow missed.

I kept quiet about the small errors I had made in my own early DM’ing sessions. They were, after all, minor mistakes that were probably to be expected given the vast differences of the new rules as compared to these almost mystical little brown books. I was just glad at that point Alex hadn’t been there to point out that “Hey, you guys are doing it wrong, Dave said it was played like this!”…yeah. Very glad. Oh, and I saw for the first time what those miniatures were for. Obviously they were made so that people could paint them and show off their artistic skills. Kind of little mini collectible models. What other purpose could they serve? No one actually used them in the games, but everyone had brought some along with their little brown books.

So, I played more in Lee’s campaign, which was basically Middle Earth. Everything was Tolkien. If a little known passage from one of the Lord of the Rings books somehow in someway could possibly be referenced during play, or for the resolution of a rule decision, it was used, and it was gospel. Lee even had a fully developed Elf language, and Elf alphabet. I later came to realize that Lee was a bit off, but at the time I was willing to do anything to keep playing D&D, and rolling dice. Even at that young age, I was thinking of ways to improve upon the campaign, and the way we were playing the game (which, surprisingly, didn’t involve starting a module by laying the map on the table like a game of Monopoly).

At a later date, I saw the three little books and some of the other supplements at my local hobby shop, but by then AD&D was sitting there as well, with those three gigantic colorful hardback books seemingly dwarfing the little white box of booklets. AD&D was new, it was improved, it was cooler. Well, to a kid thinking about going from middle school to high school, AD&D *had* to be cooler. It was the next step UP from D&D or Holmes. And I was all about stepping up at that age.

To this day I am kicking myself for never buying D&D back then. I know through the many, many later years of gaming that I had all of the little books in my collection at one point or another, but by that time I was entrenched in AD&D, loaded to the gills with large, hardcover rule books (like 9 or 10 of them!) and I think I loaned them to a friend who wanted to ’borrow’ them, just as I had months or years before from someone else. I lost track off all of those books. I don’t think I ever really read them back then. I was all about AD&D, as mentioned.

Now, here I sit looking back at all those years of D&D (well, AD&D anyway). We just called whatever version anyone was playing simply D&D. Truthfully, what we called it was “DnD”, just that. After that stretch of original D&D in Lee’s campaign, which was far too short lived as Lee moved again the following year, I was once again the DM. Now, though, I understood the basic D&D conventions that had eluded a younger, much less wise gamer the year before. Armed with this vast wealth of gaming experience, I soon entered high school, joined the after school D&D Club (in secret, I NEVER told anyone about belonging to this club!), and met the core of gamers that would end up being my gaming group for the next 20 years.

Through those years, my personal favorite aspect of DnD was the joy of the unknown, the true mystery which surrounded home brewed DnD, just the absoulte feeling of being involved with some mysterious hobby that seemed to possess layer upon layer of new discoveries. For me, I was part of a gaming revolution. I could spend hour upon hour upon hour making maps, filling rooms, designing classes, monsters and artifacts, and then allowing my efforts to culminate in fun filled gaming sessions at the local rec club, after school or at a friends house. What a great five year stretch through high school it was.

I think those years were the peak years, when I ran my campaigns every Saturday. The DnD didn’t end with high school, and the sessions went on for years and years after that, but I think that was the pinnacle for me. Was it perfect DnD? No. I would’ve changed a lot of the things we did back then. I think that as a DM I improved vastly in the years that followed, as did my campaigns and the cohesiveness of the entire game. From a sheer ‘fun’ standpoint, though, those five or so years were the most magical, and the most nostalgic…there was just a feeling in the air of gaming greatness.

Recently, feeling myself to be an absolute dinosaur in the pen and paper scene, I decided I would do a little internet searching and see what information I might be able to find on some older DnD stuff, not this 2nd edition new fangled craziness.

Fortunately for me, and for my gaming future, I stumbled across an awesome forum at Dragonsfoot. Whoa, thinks I…other people who enjoy old DnD. Now, I’m still thinking I’m an AD&D player, first and foremost. So I start by checking all the AD&D stuff, the links, etc. I’m giddy as a school kid again, knowing that I am not a dinosaur out here in the gaming scene (maybe more of a Dodo Bird, actually).

Now, I was never, ever a ‘by the book’ DM. I had plenty of clashes in the past with rules lawyers, and some very memorable instances with players who knew the rules better than I, but didn’t know DnD better than I. I know for a fact that my core players can remember Floyd. I grew up near a military base, so luckily Floyd moved away after tormenting us all for a couple years with his knowledge of all things Gygaxian. Rather, we played to keep things moving quickly, lots of dice, and just general great gaming fun was had by all. It was when I was sitting at home that I would read my DMG. Every once in a while we would crack open the PHB to read a spell. Normally this would result in me stopping before finishing the entire text and just going with what felt right. It was never detrimental to the players, but they, like me, wanted to keep play running and not get bogged down in too many rules or technicalities. Wait a sec…OK more on this later.

So there I am spending hours surfing the net reading all these great retro gaming forums. Wow, is that just the coolest, or what? So then I read about Labyrinth Lord. Meh, sounds like Tunnels and Trolls or something. Wait, huh? It’s Basic D&D made using something called the OGL…now my interest is piqued. I start seeing things like OGL, OGC, SRD, I get curious. Although my brain is more like a twice baked potato than a sponge now, certain things do indeed make the old noodle al dente. This was one of those times.

I learned more about the history of DnD publications in the next few days than I had learned in the previous 30 years.

So, I end up checking out this Labyrinth Lord. I remember having to unlearn many of the rules I had picked up by starting with Holmes, I remember thinking back then that Holmes had been a horrible starting point (and no, I don’t actually blame Holmes Box for my *ahem* less than stellar beginning). But this was Moldvay. Now, the whole B/X and later BECMI blah blah Mentzer and RC stuff had been published long after I had reached the pinnacle of DnD, the throne of AD&D! The rest was for kids in middle school who couldn’t even figure out how to use B2 yet. But now, being more open minded and curious about new work in the field of old DnD, I had to check this LL thing out.

Very soon thereafter I decided to begin a new DnD campaign using LL. I would be making the ultimate old school campaign setting, a mega dungeon, large enough to host an entire campaign. And…I would be using the LL rules. I realized that my shelves and shelves of old AD&D home brew notes would just clutter up what I was planning to make into a rules light, online chat game. So, Ulin-Uthor was born, beginning with the Of Fortunes and Fools campaign, set in Illand’r. I managed to fill a few maps, and sent my 13 year old step son into the mega dungeon for a handful of old fashioned dungeon crawl sessions.

LL held up well, and I don’t think I opened the rule book more than once or twice over four sessions. One small issue though kept gnawing at me. It still does, actually. Maybe after 30 years of thinking about DnD, certain conventions are simply too ingrained to be changed about. This is not to say that the author (Dan Proctor) in fact changed anything, or that he is responsible for ruining my DnD experience. Not at all, LL is an outstanding product that allows a very classic, seamless, old school rules light gaming experience, presented in a professional manner. Sadly, though, I can’t wrap myself around a rules system that makes races and classes synonymous. There, I said it. I’m not a LL or Moldvay B/X man. Sorry, Labyrinth Lord, I hardly knew ye.

(That said, I have given the LL rules to my step son, who is diligently working on his own dungeon now. I must say that after glimpsing some of his maps, I am eagerly waiting to dive in, playing a Halfling as per the LL rules! I will certainly give the rules another go, but it’s just not the system I want for Ulin-Uthor and OF&F, which I will be putting hundreds of hours into designing).

I looked into a couple other retro simulacrum games, like BFRPG and OSRIC. They didn’t grab me the way LL had. I didn’t want modernized versions of old games, I wanted old games. So, I was considering limiting my new campaign to *just* the PHB, DMG and MM, when it hit me. What about those little brown books that I had written off so many years ago?
So, I finally broke down and coughed up the staggering cost of obtaining my own copies of the original D&D box. Yep, those little brown books from the mid 70’s that started it all. I was amazed at how much getting these old books set me back. That $5.99 PDF download is one less vente mocha latte for me.

I’ve spent the past handful of days reading the real D&D. It was after a few hours that I had what can only be called an epiphany. That the original D&D is a guideline, a jumping off point for making one’s own version or world or campaign, using D&D conventions, tailored to your own taste. There is no right or wrong way to play. It is a collection of abstract ideas, which the authors have somehow managed to write down in understandable terms. It was truly groundbreaking for it’s time. Obviously, it changed gaming forever. I understood this concept back in those first five years of DnD, so did Lee, and so did many other DnD players. I brewed and brewed and brewed, coming up with some really off the wall ideas back then.
What’s funny is it took me this long to have this realization. The knowledge of looking back and seeing the truly fun times of DnD, when we used bits and pieces from Arduin, Booty and the Beast, The Necromicon, Dragon Magazine, fantasy books, movies, pretty much everything was fair game. As long as it was fun, we made it fit. This was, after all, a fantasy world, not some world where I needed to stop and think about ecology, the environment, politics, history, reason or logic…it was fantasy. Now, there is nothing wrong with those things, as long as they do not interfere with the real game. Those things are dressing that add realism for the players, and really, more so for the DM since few of the players ever learn about much less remember these campaign tidbits.

Well, this so called epiphany has set things into perspective for me. I don’t think I was ever truly a AD&D player or DM. I was actually an original D&D player who just never read the volumes and understood them. Now that I’ve read them, and can honestly say that I don’t need to ever pick them up again, I can play D&D from this point forward the way it was meant to be played. My way, the way the players want to play, with no ‘set in stone’ rules whatsoever. Weird stuff coming from a self professed AD&D DM. I will of course read them again, and probably my AD&D books, the thing is, I’m technically ‘back’ to thinking the way I thought back in high school, that there are no limitations or hard and fast rules. The differences and fine points between rules and versions are, for that matter, overrated.

It is with this new mind set that I am moving into my upcoming campaign. The ‘rules’ used will be original D&D by Gygax and Arneson. I took the time to type up several pages of clarifications and house rules to Men & Magic. I’ve scoured the volumes trying to find the rules for Turning Undead, and had to break down and ask online (they’re hidden in M&M, Spells Section, p. 22 by the way). Thanks to various links to D&D, I’ve cobbled together changes and ideas from different D&D players across the globe, and I’ll be incorporating these as well. The fact is, I’ve always been playing D&D by Gygax and Arneson, I just never knew it.

~Sham