D&D, Sci-Fi & Banning Books

“Goose-stepping morons like yourself should try reading books instead of burning them!”

– Professor Henry Jones

I regret to see book banning and angry mobs back in the news again. (Apologies to those who don’t come here for my occasional descent into political issues, but if you keep reading you’ll find some mention of games in the context of this subject.) Now that the furor over “critical race theory” has slightly subsided after Virginia’s contentious gubernatorial election in November and public schools start lifting mask mandates, the right-wing has fired up its angry base against books they fear question their white-privilege morals, insisting schools ban these objectionable titles, or even burn them (yes, two Spotsylvania County, VA, school board members said particular books should be pulled from school libraries and burned). Fear of the angry mob has permeated schools to the extent that an assistant principal in a Mississippi elementary school was fired for reading I Need A New Butt! Unfortunately we’ve seen this all before in some form and to some degree, though more often from the top down, from governments officially banning books and free speech rather than vocal minority mobs aggressively forcing government policy to reflect their agenda.

The Creative Magic of Office Supplies

 “Before all masters, necessity is the one most listened to, and who teaches the best.”

– Jules Verne

The world was quite different when I first discovered the adventure gaming hobby in 1982 with the Basic Dungeons & Dragons boxed set. We were emerging from the 1970’s energy crisis into an economy was plunging into recession and high inflation. Iran had recently released American embassy hostages imprisoned for more than a year. Britain and Argentina fought over the Falkland Islands. Ronald Reagan was president and we were still in the Cold War with nuclear annihilation hanging over everyone’s heads. My life, too, was quite different all those years ago. I grew up in a stable yet frugal household where money was often an issue. We didn’t live extravagantly, certainly not in the financially comfortable way I enjoy at the moment. My parents scrimped and saved so we could enjoy some choice presents for our birthdays or Christmas. We took a modest summer vacation every year. We kept busy with after-school activities, but nothing requiring too much additional spending. We didn’t have a video game console or VCR. But we managed decently enough, especially having a few friends from school and some neighborhood kids who also liked games. During high school the adventure gaming hobby dominated my leisure activities.

Normalizing 4D6

“As the years go by, time will change and even reverse many of your present opinions.”

– Plato

I was surfing online this weekend looking for interesting dice sets, just for fun. While a majority of polyhedral roleplaying game dice I noticed contained one each of the “standard” dice (including the D% ten sider), I was surprised to see a number of them – primarily in my search for “Koplow dice” – included four six-sided dice (4D6). I’ve seen a few sets in stores that also pack 4D6. I checked the “starter” boxes I have for Dungeons & Dragons fifth edition and realized the dice set provided with the Essentials Kit also included 4D6 (the Essentials Kit offers character creation rules, while the Starter Set does not). This seems to indicate a shift over the game’s almost 50-year history from several methods of rolling character ability scores to the one most geared toward what some might call a heroic play style; one where player-characters aren’t simply grunts sent through a meat-grinder adventure to meet horrible ends, with only the most “worthy” surviving, but where they begin as heroes who all have value in the overall storyline.

Missing Out on A World in A Box

I’ll admit I’ve never really immersed myself in pre-made fantasy world settings, particularly those that emerged in the late 1980s and 1990s and grew exponentially from core boxed set concepts to entire continents of supplements and “splatbooks.” A few exceptions exist, but they come from my earliest days exploring the adventure gaming hobby and those years after college when I had money to pursue other games with engaging settings tied to specific, non-fantasy game systems. I think my perspective results from a confluence of circumstances: the content and marketing of these worlds with my inability to immerse myself in roleplaying games at the time they were released.

Derivative D&D

“Books serve to show a man that those original thoughts of his aren’t very new after all.”

– Abraham Lincoln

I’m constantly amazed learning about the origins and influences behind Dungeons & Dragons, how even today the roleplaying game hobby continues evolving based on past works “improved” by those who feel they could do a better job...and sometimes actually do. Two publications best illustrate the movements from which D&D derived much of its imaginative power and mechanical implementation: Jon Peterson’s monumental scholarly history Playing at the World and the visually impressive coffee-table tome Dungeons & Dragons Art & Arcana by Peterson and a host of others who have reflected on the origins of the roleplaying game hobby.

Playing at the Fair

We recently visited the Maryland Renaissance Festival and it brought back memories of how much I used to enjoy the playful immersion in the renfest environment. My adventure gaming hobby stands at the confluence of many inspirations during my youth. I’ve discussed the role music, books, films, and even family vacations played in fostering in me an appreciation of elements that would fuel my gaming activities (“Early Fantasy Gaming Inspirations” and “Early Musical Influences on My Gaming”). Although I went to my first renfest well after I’d discovered Dungeons & Dragons, the experience enhanced my appreciation for roleplaying games, history, music, and literature. Our recent trip back to the Maryland Renaissance Festival reminded me how renfests still provide inspiration for gaming. I also realized how closely renfests mirror roleplaying games (or games in general) in that they provide an immersive experience and a relatively “safe” space in which to play.

Boxed Worlds & Focused Locales

I peer over at my wall-spanning bookshelves (well, one wall of them, anyway) and see a chunk of my Dungeons & Dragons shelf occupied by several thick boxed sets crammed with fantasy world settings. Their names ring boldly in the annals of fantasy roleplaying games: Dark Sun, Raveloft, and Forgotten Realms. Lately I’ve been thinking about getting rid of them. Virtually unseen nearby sit several thin, saddle-stitched D&D modules, some of which provide more localized settings for fantasy adventures beyond the actual scenario material. Some of their names – notably B2 The Keep on the Borderlands and X1 The Isle of Dread – also stand tall in the annals of D&D. I’ve spent more time adventuring in these smaller locales than the vast expanses of the boxed sets and their numerous support supplements. Perhaps these more compact modules offered a young gamer both examples of solid settings as well as the invitation and inspiration to expand upon them. Perhaps I didn’t immerse myself in the larger boxed settings because by the time they were released I’d moved beyond my carefree, younger days of after-school and summertime gaming into a professional life that put a premium on free time.

Random Encounter Motivations

Monsters serve as the default antagonists in Dungeons & Dragons and its derivatives (primarily many games developed in the spirit of the Old School Renaissance or OSR). They’re the focal point of the entire hack-and-slash mentality: kill the monsters and take their stuff. The character advancement structure of these games encourages this kind of play. Fighting and killing monsters not only earns experience points for the deed but points based on the value of treasure plundered from dead monsters (an aspect of the game’s design I’ve examined before). Certainly elements like the “Monster Reactions Table” can mitigate these presumptions. Yet a creature’s own motivations might affect how they react when encountering adventurers just as much as the adventurers’ openly displayed intent. This becomes particularly important for randomly determined creatures – as “wandering monsters” or in randomly generated dungeons – who don’t always have motivational cues based on a particular location. For instance, in a published scenario, four orcs in an evil wizard’s guard room have an assumed role to keep adventurers out, sound the alarm, and try to kill or capture intruders; but four orcs encountered as wandering monsters don’t have such clear cues regarding their motivation and hence their reaction to meeting adventurers. What if – before rolling on the “Monster Reactions Table” – we consulted a “Creature Motivation Table” to determine their intent when they stumble upon adventurers?

An Exercise in Nostalgic Futility

A reader recently asked me about T1 The Haunted Keep from my “Gaming Artifacts: Homemade Modules” post. Back in my teenage days during the “Golden Age of Roleplaying” (the mid 1980s) I wrote several Dungeons & Dragons modules to run with the neighborhood kids, complete with maps and keyed texts in the style of TSR’s own releases. T1 The Haunted Keep was my continuation of the sample dungeon at the back of the Moldvay-edition D&D Basic rules. All my work from this period is irredeemably horrible, yet I keep these artifacts because they were an integral part of my earliest, eager gaming days. And that enthusiasm suddenly returned when someone expressed interest in seeing at least the maps to gain some insight about how I developed the dungeon as a base for a family of wererats and their marauding goblin allies. At first I had grand designs of typing up my handwritten text, cleaning it up a bit, rendering the maps in a better style than pencil-on-graph-paper, updating the stats to my oft-overlooked AnyOSR Key system-neutral notations, and releasing it with retrospective design notes for fun. Then I realized the idea was distracting me from my current distraction (developing The Greydeep Marches setting) from what I really should be working on (The Infinite Cathedral setting) and that it was channeling my nostalgic enthusiasm for the creations of my youth. Once I calmed down, refocused, and realized bringing it to publication in any form was not a good use of my time, the brief experience provided an opportunity to reflect on my past work to see what made an impression on a teenage roleplaying gamer in the mid-1980s.

The Lingua Franca for RPGs

“Therefore is the name of it called Babel; because the Lord did there confound the language of all the earth: and from thence did the Lord scatter them abroad upon the face of all the earth.”

– Genesis 11:9

Gamers are a contentious lot, reflecting an overall human tendency of unfriendliness, or at least indifference, toward those outside our chosen tribes. We have been “confounded” by a plethora of different games catering to different genre tastes, mechanics, and play styles. Some folks can sit back, acknowledge the existence of games for which we don’t care much, and let others go about their business playing games that bring them the most enjoyment. Others like arguing about which edition or game is best and disparage those who play different games. Differences set us apart – they can help define who we are and what we enjoy – but can also reinforce tribal tendencies within adherents of particular games and can cause friction with other factions. In most cases this wouldn’t pose a problem; but for adventure gaming, and roleplaying games in particular, it’s often a barrier to bringing new people into the hobby or more actively pursuing our own involvement with new player groups. For better or worse, Dungeons & Dragons has, since its beginnings, served as a common frame of reference, a lingua franca, so to speak, for the diverse and sometimes divisive roleplaying game hobby.

The Temptation of Random Tables

Random tables remain a staple of roleplaying games. They determine random encounters, character backgrounds, treasure and magic items, monster and retainer reactions, or even form the basis for an entirely random dungeon or hex crawl (among a great many other things). They’re a temptation for both gamemasters and game designers, offering quick means to generate encounters and add another layer to an adventure or setting. They serve as prompts, providing a host of ideas in a succinct format to roll or choose. Part of the responsibility for their successful use depends on how designers present table information and tie it to the existing setting or scenario. Part of the responsibility depends on how gamemasters implement a random table result into their game. Random tables run the risk of seeming lazy tools rather than inspiring enhancements.

Customizing My B/X D&D Experience

My son and I have been gaming on and off recently, occasionally testing the waters of intro roleplaying games between Pokemon card game duels and an occasional board game. We’ve enjoyed Hero Kids, though each adventure requires a good deal of prep, whether I’m printing and adapting an existing scenario or devising my own (with the requisite maps). We’ve also tried the forgotten Pokemon Jr. Adventure Game – a wonderfully simple yet entertaining intro roleplaying game experience that capitalizes on the popular Japanese license – which I’m enjoying for its very basic, read-aloud scripted scenes and simple combat system printed on the various Pokemon cards. Both games still hold some potential for several more play sessions, especially if I can wean everyone off Hero Kids’ maps. At some point, though, I’d like to transition to something a bit more mainstream that also caters to my own gaming urges. So I’m re-evaluating my current views regarding Basic/Expert Dungeons & Dragons, as many of you know, my preferred version of D&D and, despite my general explorations of the Old School Renaissance, my preferred OSR game. I’m looking to make it more comprehensible for a seven year-old and provide a more heroic (read” less-deadly”) experience for characters.

Gaming Artifacts: Homemade Fantasy World Maps

How I miss those lazy afternoons when I got home from school and had an hour or two before dinner to indulge my gaming hobby. Sometimes neighborhood kids would gather for a hapless D&D scenario or a board game of my own dubious design. Other times I’d relax with a good fantasy or science fiction novel. I’d draft maps for future dungeon delves or wilderness expeditions. I’d type out articles for my extremely amateur gaming fanzine. And then there were the wars waged by metal miniatures across map-kingdoms of my own creation.

The Basic Hack Offers Intro OSR Experience

I’ve enjoyed dabbling with the Old School Renaissance (OSR). It’s nice to indulge my nostalgic tendencies and revel in some of the innovations people are sharing based on the old “core” fantasy roleplaying game rule sets: Erik “Tenkar” Stiene’s Swords & Wizardry Light, James Spahn’s The Hero’s Journey, Scott Malthouse’s Romance of the Perilous Land, among others in the back of my mind. Yet the OSR itself caters to gamers with at least some experience with any earlier flavor of Dungeons & Dragons and roleplaying games, whether someone played once in high school or has been playing regularly for years. It’s not exactly a clear entry point for newcomers to the roleplaying game hobby. Since OSR titles are primarily available through online venues, they’re not visible in hobby, game, or book stores – unlike the current edition of D&D – and none of the OSR games have really, to my estimation, catered to complete beginners.... Until now. Nathan J. Hill’s The Basic Hack, an iteration of David Black’s The Black Hack, incorporates a few elements and a distillation of the OSR gaming experience I feel can offer an entry point for new gamers, either in the hands of an experienced gamemaster or even on their own.

Advancement Influences Tone

Most roleplaying games include some kind of advancement system to encourage players to join game sessions and improve their characters. It’s been an essential element of roleplaying games since their beginnings, this ability to continue playing to gain more experience and build a more powerful character over time. Yet the particular mechanics of how in-game action translates to character experience influences the tone of the game. Players naturally want to improve their heroes; characters’ in-game actions tend to focus on those that best reward them in the context of the specific game scenario. Games that reward experience for slain monsters and looted treasure have a different tone than those giving points for solving problems, gaming in-character, managing encounters, and achieving goals.

Level-Up Lifepath

Dungeons & Dragons and Old School Renaissance retro-clone games in particular often rely on the “zero to hero” idea that characters begin at first level and rise through the ranks by going on adventures, killing monsters, and taking their stuff...or die trying (emphasis on the latter). Of course nothing stops players from rolling up higher-level heroes simply by adding level adjustments to first-level characters. It’s an exercise in bookkeeping, adding levels and experience points, adjusting to-hit modifiers, adding spells and special abilities depending on the character race and class. This all seems shallow to me and doesn’t offer the roleplaying opportunities to enhance a character actual play provides. I started thinking how to change that, looked back at some classic, well-loved roleplaying games for inspiration (and one recent acquisition), and discovered the sometimes-used “lifepath” method could provide some enhancements when creating higher-level characters.

Considering Appendix N

Occasionally people discuss the merits and importance of the Dungeon Masters Guide’s infamous “Appendix N” and its corollary in the Moldvay edition of Basic Dungeons & Dragons, the “Inspirational Source Material” list (henceforth referred to as the “ISM”). Are they “required reading” for Dungeons & Dragons? Do some titles and authors deserve to be on the list? People’s taste in fiction varies widely, even within a specific genre; not everyone enjoys the literary aspects that inspired roleplaying games. Like many elements of D&D and the Old School Renaissance (along with adventure gaming and other geeky pursuits in general) it generates a good number of heated arguments fueled by strong feelings and the usual irrational contrariness that seems to typify most online debates and, disturbingly, more real-world discussions. Various people online have attempted and encouraged others to read every book listed in these resources; occasional debates flog their relevance and the merits of individual titles and authors. I find the occasional focus on these resources surprising given the size of both Appendix N and the ISM relative to their sourcebooks: one of the many appendices in the Dungeon Masters Guide, Appendix N takes up about a quarter of a page (still not even half a page if you include Gygax’s comments on works that inspired D&D) in a 240-page rulebook; the ISM offers a somewhat more substantial list that covers an entire page in the Basic D&D rulebook, just one out of 64 pages...a somewhat more significant contribution than Appendix N, but still relatively small. I find both resources more useful as inspiration than instruction, a suggested reading list for those who also dabble in fantasy literature who might appreciate these titles both for ideas to integrate into a fantasy roleplaying game and the pure literary enjoyment they provide.

Customizing the OSR Experience

Resources like Brent Newhall’s Old School Renaissance Handbook and Taxidermic Owlbear’s overview of retro-clone systems remind me of the OSR’s amazing diversity in mechanics. Each new OSR game provides the author’s own interpretation of the classic Dungeons & Dragons game system based on a beloved early edition, an amalgam of preferred mechanics, new innovations on those systems, or other inventive derivations. (And I’m not even mentioning setting interpretations incorporating those mechanics....) Although I like a single unifying “core mechanic” in my games – such as the dice-pool roll against a difficulty number in the D6 System – I grew up with the amalgam of different mechanics in the Basic/Expert D&D and Advanced D&D games. “Core mechanic” systems allow for a some degree of interpretation in fine tuning within the scope of the basic rules, yet so does D&D with its numerous individual rulings for resolving the host of situations that arise in the course of a game. D&D established the foundation for fantasy roleplaying game mechanics; the OSR demonstrates just how variations and innovations can vary to produce games with different play styles.

The process adjusts individual mechanics within the game to find the right balance of game play. Take a look at individual systems and notice how gamers can alter nearly every one for a particular play style or rules preference. Since roleplaying games focus on characters, many of these elements appear on the character sheet; many trickle down to other systems, particularly in handling monsters .Designers have adjusted existing rules to their liking, but for some they’ve devised original ways of handling mechanics while still evoking the spirit of early roleplaying games:

Shields in OSR Games

Frequent readers know of my recent explorations in Old School Renaissance gaming (OSR) through my solitaire B/X Dungeons & Dragons exploits (my preferred old-school system). These activities help me examine what I like about various elements and how to improve those that don’t work for me. So I come to the shield conundrum: they seem underpowered. In looking at alternative shield mechanics I found myself questioning the very core rationale behind armor and shields in D&D combat.

(Throughout this post I refer to various bonuses to armor class as +1, etc., as I’m using ascending armor class; for the traditional descending armor class read that as -1. Either way, “bonus” means a benefit to armor class in the context of whatever system you’re using.)

I prefer a more heroic style of play rather than the deadly “grinder” style (as I’ve discussed before), so I look to provide my characters with every possible advantage within the bounds of the rules...and then house-rule some mechanics to offer some minor benefits. Of the three characters I’m running through various solitaire scenarios, two have shields and one has eschewed a shield in favor of two-handed weapons (the underpowered battle axe...a topic Jonathan Becker has discussed before at his B/X Blackrazor blog). While one of the shield-bearers has no ranged weapon, the other must set aside her shield if she chooses to use her long bow, temporarily shedding its armor class bonus. I’m examining the shield rules with an eye to making my low-level characters less monster-fodder and slightly more heroic.

Screen or No Screen?

The gamemaster screen remains a stereotypical part of roleplaying games. Even members of the general, non-gaming public with popularized impression of the hobby view the gamemaster as a guy hunched behind a screen secretly rolling dice and consulting esoteric charts.* The screen became popularized as a seemingly required accessory by early editions of Dungeons & Dragons. Numerous other roleplaying games issued gamemaster screens; traditional ones still publish screens even today, when some might view the accessory as outdated. In today’s varied landscape of games new and nostalgic, are gamemaster screens still an essential part of gaming? Using a screen remains one of those choices individual gamemasters make; it’s sometimes helpful but certainly never required.

In my early days of roleplaying a gamemaster screen of some kind was essential. Goodness, how else would a gamemaster keep all the scenario information and die rolls absolutely secret from the players? Although I never owned the AD&D screen, I did acquire one for B/X D&D, AC2 Combat Shield and Mini-Adventure, more because I could find it a the local hobby shop when the stock of AD&D screens had already been bought up by die-hard players. It was nice to have various reference tables from the B/X rulebooks in one handy place. Besides, having a screen between the players and gamemaster was just how the game was played; obviously if I didn’t have a screen I just wasn’t playing the game right.