Dabbling in Civil War Games

These past few years I’ve dabbled with various games focusing on the American Civil War to varying degrees of success and satisfaction. Several games have caught my eye, with some acquired and played, while a few remain yearned-for yet too-expensive additions to my game library. My experience is in no means comprehensive, nor does it encompass the vast panorama of Civil War-related games available over the years; but a few come within my realm of experience and touch on elements I enjoy or admire in games.

I’ve always nurtured an interest in the history of the various places I’ve lived: Ridgefield, CT, site of the Battle of Ridgefield during the American Revolution; Honesdale, PA, birthplace of American railroading with the first steam engine to run (briefly) on rails and once the staging point of a vital canal system supplying New York City with coal; Williamsburg, VA, colonial Virginia capital and living history restoration; and Culpeper, VA, a central Civil War location between the Shenandoah Valley, Chancellorsville and Wilderness battlefields, and site of its own engagements at Cedar Mountain, Brandy Station, and Culpeper Court House. (I discussed the subject of local history a while back in another blog post.) My interest in some of these locations sometimes inspired my game-related activities. I’ve long hoped to find a system and medium to replay the Battle of Ridgefield (and might have found one in my Charge! rules under development). Living in Culpeper has certainly spurred me to find some means of playing out small cavalry engagements -- Buford’s crossing of Beverly’s Ford as the opening move for the massive Battle of Brandy Station, Mosby’s raid on a train at nearby Catlett’s Station, and, of course, Custer’s action against the artillery and cavalry guarding the Confederate withdrawal from Culpeper Court House.

Over the years I’ve acquired a meager collection of Civil War-themed games; now that I’ve lived in Virginia for more than 10 years and currently live in a nexus of many related historical sites, I’m drawn more to investigating this period of history through games. I regret I sold my boxed set of West End Games Civil War wargame titles long ago when money was tight; though I’ve rarely had the time, attention, or interest for indulging in complex “chit-and-board” wargames (despite owning a few).

My interest in Civil War games has ranged across several resources and titles, some I’ve acquired and played, others remaining on my “wish list” for future investigation, though the material I’ve seen so far intrigues me:

Junior General: The website offers Civil War gamers several scenarios for miniatures battles and a few other games (card and matrix/map battles) for the historical period. Scenarios for First Bull Run and two segments of Gettysburg (Little Round Top and Pickett’s Charge) provide very simple rules and well-researched historical notes (though a familiarity with  miniatures wargames can help understand some of the basic gaming concepts). Although the materials on the website seem intended for adults to find resources and run games to help students explore history, it’s a treasure trove of materials for wargamers dabbling in various periods. Browse the site’s vast archive of military units to print out, assemble, and muster on the gaming table using the well-researched scenarios. Junior General remains a great starting resource for wargaming any historical period.

Sundered Union: Several years ago a new game company, Gordon & Hague Historical War Games, published a full set and then a quick-start version of Civil War tabletop rules to support its line of 10mm period miniatures. Both versions remained available as free PDF downloads from the company’s website until recently; a full-color, soft-cover printed version was briefly available for purchase, and I’m thankful I managed to obtain a copy from a convention vendor. While far from perfect and nowhere near as comprehensively complex as other, well-established miniature wargaming rule sets for the period, Sundered Union provided a basic framework for Civil War battles and included rules for most of the generally accepted tactical elements for these engagements. The quick-start rules -- at a concise four pages -- streamlined the main game further and offered newcomers to wargaming (or those of us who prefer lighter games) a more simplified yet gratifying experience. Regrettably Sundered Union is no longer available as a free PDF download from the Gordon & Hague website in either the full or quick-start versions. The game served as a solid platform for the company’s short-lived line of pre-painted 10mm Civil War miniatures and could easily work with its upcoming line of pre-painted 15mm minis. The company recently concluded a successful Kickstarter campaign for a massive board wargame using accurately illustrated top-down counters or the pre-painted 15mm minis, both of which, alas, remain beyond my own rational budgetary allowances.

Battle Cry: Board games packed with hordes of pieces, dice, tiles, huge map boards, and cards seem the norm for everything from light wargames to Euro-style games these days; Battle Cry is no exception. It uses the Command and Colors system developed by Richard Borg for simplified wargames focusing on a deck of command cards and custom dice to determine the outcome in combat. I have no direct play experience with this game, though I’ve perused an old version of the rulebook. I have played Borg’s engaging Memoir ’44, a World War II Command and Colors game incorporating many similar elements: a large hex board easily customized for scenarios with terrain tiles; plastic pieces representing different units and their strengths; left, center, and right flank card-based actions; specialized dice to resolve combat; and an easy means of creating or playing historical scenarios. Like it’s World War II counterpart, Battle Cry comes with a box filled with the aforementioned goodies (board, terrain tiles, plastic soldiers, dice, cards) as well as the understandably high price tag of $60 retail.

Dixie: At the height of the collectible card game craze of the mid-1990s Columbia Games jumped in by adapting to card play mechanics the designers ported from the tactical portion of the Bobby Lee block wargame (which I realize in retrospect thanks to the Kickstarter campaign mentioned below). Each deck of Dixie contained enough cards to run a battle, with cards depicting infantry, cavalry, and artillery units -- each with an original illustration of individual soldiers in uniform -- as well as generals, terrain features, and special conditions to modify the battle. Like the tactical combat in Bobby Lee, players deployed units on their left, right, and center, with forces held in reserve. Units revealed themselves advancing against and engaging the opponent’s positions, resolving combat, and taking ground. I can’t recall how I acquired the few decks of this game I possess (two of the Battle of Bull Run edition and two Gettysburg edition); possibly as a giveaway at a game industry trade show, maybe purchased at a convention or game store. They impressed me as a basic, card-driven means of refighting battles using historical units and some degree of tactical accuracy.

Bobby Lee: In 1993 Columbia Games also published a wargame covering the Civil War in Virginia (including Maryland and southern Pennsylvania, to include Antietam and Gettysburg). What seemed like a conventional “chit-and-board” wargame -- complete with a nicely-rendered map-board, detailed rules, and numerous pieces for various military units -- actually moved beyond those bounds by including two innovations Columbia Games incorporated in its many wargames: pieces on wooden blocks and a tactical battlefield combat to resolve engagements between forces meeting on the larger strategic map board. Each block represents a unit, with the usual wargaming stat information on a sticker; when stood on its side, however, the blocks enable a fog-of-war mechanic allowing a player to see his own forces but hiding the opponent’s armies from view until encountered in battle. The game combines both strategic action across the campaign theater map-board and more focused tactical engagement resolution on a separate skirmish board utilizing gameplay similar to that of Dixie (and probably derived from games like Bobby Lee). Columbia Games is funding a revision of Bobby Lee through Kickstarter; the campaign ends on November 11, 2013. This looks like a good game -- with tighter rules than the original -- for someone dabbling in the period. The $75 price tag seems quite daunting, considering many high-end Euro-style board games come in around $50. Still, the components look good, the map is huge, and I’m very interested in the fog-of-war mechanic with pieces using blocks.

These titles are the ones that come to mind or have formed my experience playing Civil War games, though I know more exist and I’m sure the Hobby Games readership has its own favorites and suggestions

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Revisiting the Random Dungeon with Themes

Several weeks ago I explored issues in random dungeons based on my own experience with the original Gygaxian method from the AD&D Dungeon Masters Guide and John Yorio’s No Budget No Frills Pencil and Paper Dungeon Generator, Ver. 3.0 over at the Tabletop Diversions blog. After my admittedly limited initial experiences I set off to devise a slightly more focused “random” dungeon experience incorporating an overarching theme for the delve and table results skewed to allow for some escalation from basic encounters to more challenging ones.

I wanted to structure a blank form outline with tables for determining corridors and chambers, traps, treasures, and encounters, with most of the die types and ranges left blank for users to fill in with their own preferences. For instance, choosing a 1D6 roll for determining corridors or chambers might allow one on a roll of 1-2 and the other on 3-6, skewing the results to favor a preferred structure. They could populate a trap table with theme-appropriate devices. Treasures could reflect the theme as well. But the most integral of all is the encounters table, where users “seed” the delve with themed encounters rather than relying on random monster tables by dungeon level. An escalation mechanic -- in the form of a bonus to the table roll equal to the number of previous encounters -- skews results to the higher and more challenging encounters, culminating in a showdown with an appropriately powerful “boss” monster.

The result is a PDF document with forms to fill out and then “save as” or print to create a one-page set of tables for a “themed dungeon” with randomized elements skewed toward a particular experience.

Here’s a look at the rationale I followed:

Intent: Since this serves as a side-project for me -- a quick jaunt exploring an interesting idea and game-design exercise -- I imposed a few restrictions on development. I wanted to keep the tables to one page with adequate room for users to customize the material with their own ideas. My urge to keep things relatively straightforward influenced me to leave out several traditional elements and interesting concepts; in some cases I’ve marginalized them from their more prominent places in previous random dungeon generators.

Secret Doors: Most random dungeon generators include some means of noting secret doors in passages and chambers. I overlooked this element in the interest of simplicity, though also partly to make sure the tables had more space for encounters, special treasures, and traps. I’m considering (and may have already implemented) a section on the “Chamber” table to account for the possibility of secret doors.

No Exits: A keen playtester noted the current “1D4-1” roll to determine the number of exits from a chamber could result in a complete dead-end in the very first chamber. I’ll alter the wording to eliminate that “-1” modifier until after explorers have visited four or six rooms.

Special Corridors & Chambers: I’d originally hoped to include results and additional tables for creating special corridor elements (stairs up and down, exits and entrances) and chambers (pillared halls, chasms with bridges) users could customize to the theme. At this point I’m considering including a “special” result on the corridor table with parenthetical suggestions for such remarkable features beyond the basic passageways.

Empty Room Table: The gamer community occasionally vents on the subject of empty rooms in dungeons, a result of random tables I personally found frustrating in my own solitaire delves. Unfortunately space considerations forced me to omit a table on which users could roll to generate some themed setting descriptions for trappings within empty rooms: abandoned shrines, barracks, common areas, or even caves with partially collapsed ceilings.

Take a look at Schweig’s Themed Dungeon Generatorand see how the system flows. I’ve included the blank, fillable form on one page and a sample dungeon on the second page to demonstrate how it might work. The document is still in flux, though I intend to revise it with an eye toward publishing it through my e-storefront at DriveThruRPG.com as a free/pay what you want product. For now it remains accessible from this blog post, though in the future the link will migrate to the e-storefront.

As always, I encourage constructive feedback and civilized discussion. Share a link to this blog entry on Google+ and tag me (+Peter Schweighofer) to comment.

Pulp Island-Hopping D&D

I’m not thrilled doing two nostalgia pieces in a row, but an idea from the Dark Corners of Role Playing blog (sister site to the fun and resourceful Swords & Stitchery blog) challenged me to consider my recent pulp roleplaying game material in a nostalgic framework; what if the island-hopping pulp adventures for Heroes of Rura-Tonga transposed themselves into a B/X Dungeons & Dragon Sea of Dread island exploration campaign?

Both blogs recently highlighted several of my free/pay what you want adventures for my two system-neutral pulp setting sourcebooks, Pulp Egypt and Heroes of Rura-Tonga. The latter -- heavily inspired by such 1980s television fare as Tales of the Gold Monkey and Black Sheep Squadron -- focuses on a crew of a Grumman G-21 “Goose” amphibious aircraft island hopping around the South Pacific, encountering strange phenomenon, exploring ancient ruins, and avoiding entanglements with forces from the nearby Japanese Mandate in the late 1930s. Most of the scenarios in the sourcebook and those featured for free/pay what you want at DriveThruRPG.com occur on islands near the heroes’ remote tropical base.

Among his many complimentary comments, Eric at Dark Corners of Role Playing wrote something about Gift of the Gods (one of the free/pay what you want scenarios) that hit that inspiration chime in my imagination:

“It could be with little work be done as an OD&D style game.”

So I started thinking about my own early experiences with Basic and Expert Dungeons & Dragons long ago, how many Heroes of Rura-Tonga scenarios involve the heroes travelling to and exploring islands, and it all started drawing me back to the Sea of Dread….

The Summer of D&D

The summer after I discovered Dungeons & Dragons was spent exploring the possibilities opened by the Expert Set and its rules for above-ground adventures beyond the dungeon-delving action of Basic D&D I’d explored that spring after getting the Basic Set as an Easter gift from my parents.

While the Grand Duchy of Karameikos opened up an entire kingdom for adventuring, the map of the known world included in module X1 The Isle of Dread -- much of which was covered with the vast Sea of Dread -- seemed far more enticing for adventure possibilities. As a fledgling gamemaster I quickly populated many of the small islands strew across the sea with isolated adventure seeds of my own; unfortunately the only one I can recall was an island with a settlement of centaurs on one half which was constantly at war with the cyclops lurking across the mountain chain that split the island. I’ll freely admit it wasn’t terribly imaginative and was awfully derivative; obviously my island of the centaurs and cyclops was inspired by such Ray Harryhausen fantasy fare as The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad (which I’ve discussed before). Nonetheless the neighborhood kids who played D&D with us had some fun chartering a ship, hiring a crew, and wandering from one island to the next seeking excitement, fortune, and glory.

The Sea of Dread also served as the setting for the wonderful solitaire adventure XSolo Lathan’s Gold, which used a combination of wandering monster charts and programmed adventure format to enable the player to explore various islands and accumulate enough gold to ransom his betrothed. I’d played the adventure several times in my younger days and enjoyed it for the vast range of encounters, dangers, and results it provided. (No doubt it fueled my interest in solitaire adventures.)

I’d never really considered returning to that potentially rich setting of the Sea of Dread until Dark Corners of Role Playing mentioned the Heroes of Rura-Tonga scenario Gift of the Gods might port to D&D.

Flying Across the Sea of Dread

Although Heroes of Rura-Tonga focuses on the crew of a seaplane flying among and exploring remote South Pacific islands, the general concept -- and elements of many of the scenarios I’ve produced for the setting -- could easily port to a fantastic D&D campaign centering on the Sea of Dread or a similar environment.

Give the heroes some independent means of exploring and traversing the vast expanses of an island-filed ocean: a ship of their own, a gnome-built dirigible, or even a magical skyship akin to those from the Spelljammer setting. Use the Empire of Thyatis to assume the Empire of Japan’s role as the main political antagonist -- its principle role in Heroes of Rura-Tonga -- with other kingdoms taking the place of political rivals and potential allies/patrons for the heroes. Populate the region with nuggets of self-contained scenarios focusing on single islands: the pirate base whose leader “kidnapped” a princess who secretly loves him (whose father hires the heroes to rescue her); a long-abandoned temple containing primeval horrors and hidden knowledge; a dwindling settlement of centaurs waging a desperate war against cyclops invading from over the island’s mountain range (okay, that’s still “meh”). Aside from wandering wilderness encounters on land and sea, the heroes must also steer  clear of the galleys of the Empire of Thyatis intent on conquering neighboring kingdoms, extending its reach across the sea, and seeking resources and magical items necessary for its plans of fantasy world domination.

Looking at the free/pay what you want scenarios I’ve offered for Heroes of Rura-Tonga, you could easily port major concepts to a D&D setting: heroes chase an adversary or seek supplies/treasure on an unstable floating island (the premise behind PBY SOS); an island settlement seemingly tore itself apart after discovering an antediluvian pit with something sinister lurking at the bottom (The Paranoia Pit); seeking an otherworldly treasure guarded by fierce tribesmen brings the heroes in contact with friendly spies and adversaries intent on hunting them down (Gift of the Gods). And that’s not even considering the five adventures in the setting sourcebook itself.

Eric’s comment from the Dark Corners of Role Playing blog inspired me to break down the setting definitions of these scenarios and re-imagine them -- and the Heroes of Rura-Tonga campaign -- in a completely different genre.

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Charging Off on Another Diversion

I have the small luxury of setting aside projects in development to pursue game ideas that suddenly grab my inspiration and charge off with it across the battlefield, so to speak. One such idea bit me last week and demanded my attention when I wasn’t working on blog entries, website updates, and other more practical matters.

I have a few boxes of wonderful 54mm plastic soldier figures from Armies in Plastic. My collection includes soldiers from historical periods within my numerous spheres of interest -- Zulus, British colonial infantry, dervishes (including Beja warriors), Egyptian infantry -- acquired over the years from hobby stores, toy soldier shows, and conventions. While they’re fun to dump out of the box and set up on the basement wargaming table to look at, I’ve long wanted some kind of gaming diversion in which they could play a  more active and structured role. No doubt a search of the internet could turn up some playable games created particularly for 54mm plastic soldiers; the many free options for miniature wargames I’ve investigated not only assume a solid familiarity with the intricacies of such rules but indulge in those rules’ frequent reliance on complex set-up and execution (and often do so with an uninspiring single-column, all text-and-tables, no illustrations layout regrettably typical of such free rule sets).

I accepted this self-made challenge: to create an interesting yet basic wargame using the 54mm miniatures at hand. I devised a concept based on the fact that I wanted to fight overwhelming battles from history where a small force stood against relentless onslaught from numerous attackers -- such as the British stand against Zulus at Rorke’s Drift or the many instances of British soldiers during the campaign to rescue Gordon at Khartoum standing their ground in a square against hordes of fanatical dervishes -- but with a limited number of figures. Armies in Plastic offers solid-color plastic soldiers in historically accurate sets of 18 or 20 at reasonable prices; artillery pieces with crews and sets of five horses and men offer some variation in forces. In most historical confrontations against colonial troops the “native” forces have vast numerical superiority; but I’m not about to purchase multiple boxes of dervishes to fight my one box of Her Majesty’s highlanders in the ratio suggested by the venerable The Sword and the Flame rules.

So I devised a “hordes”  mechanic by which a force that, in terms of available figures, equals those of the static line of defenders, but which forms new waves from casualty figures removed from the table after ranged and close combat. It basically “recycles” casualties from the larger force in subsequent waves of attackers, while the defenders must hold out for a certain number of turns as their casualties are removed entirely from play, thus dwindling their defensive force. This method isn’t really practical for a vast battle in which crowds of enemy troops maneuver around the table to outflank the smaller force and take advantage of terrain features; but it seemed ideal for playing out a portion of those battles where the side with numerical superiority often charged forward to engage the defenders, hoping to wear them down with each subsequent wave.

Starting Criteria

I focused (and possibly limited) my efforts on this game by determining to work under several criteria I felt essential for this particular game. Some even reflected my general game beliefs in terms of accessibility to newcomers:

Small Play Surface: While I enjoy the spectacle of vast battlefields covering numerous tables, I wanted this game to fit on one’s average tabletop, ideally on a 3x3-foot space. Many craft stores stock appropriately colored felt in those dimensions (such as tan for desert and green for fields). With each side fielding 18 or 20 figures, the smaller play space meant they wouldn’t seem as sparse as on a larger battlefield. As I began designing the basics of movement and range for the game, 3x3 feet seemed to work well.

Plastic Toy Soldiers: My main goal in this diversion was to put my collection of Armies in Plastic soldiers to practical wargaming use. Some craft, toy, and hobby stores also stock army men in periods beyond the modern -- medieval, Civil War, and American War of Independence are themes I frequently see on shelves -- so I wanted to provide a structured play platform for those, too.

Simple Rules, D6 Mechanics: I like basic rules as both a player and an advocate for attracting newcomers to the adventure gaming hobby (this would provide some challenges in practical execution). Although I also love polyhedral dice and the larger ranges of probabilities they offer; most folks have a few six-sided dice around the house from mundane board games.

Overall I wanted to offer an extremely basic miniature wargaming experience players could adjust across the various historical periods (and beyond if possible) given the “toys” at hand. As I started jotting down notes, pulling together rules, constructing turn sequences, and actually playing out a skirmish on the wargaming table downstairs, several design issues emerged to challenge both my starting criteria and overall gameplay.

Name Issues

At first I thought of calling the rules Hordes!since gameplay centers on a small force of defenders holding off hordes of dervishes, Zulus, or other factions with overwhelming numbers. But my attention wandered and I considered how players might use the rules in different battles: Confederate infantry charging Union troops behind a stone wall (or vice versa); British troops assaulting a Patriot barricade in the American Revolution (a favorite concept of mine in replaying the Battle of Ridgefield, from the town where I grew up); bug-aliens against well-armed space marines; even turning the tables and making those British colonial troops assault the defensive earthworks of Egyptian infantry during Arabi Pasha’s uprising of 1881. Besides, I’m conscious that some might find designation of native forces as “hordes” offensive.

So I looked at the gameplay I was trying to encourage in these rules and realized it focused on one vast force charging against a small group of defenders. I have an old album of military music -- including bugle calls -- appropriate called Charge! which I loved as a kid; what better name for a game which, essentially, consists of one vast charge? Now the tentative and more politically correct name for the project in question is Charge!

Player Decisions

One of the challenges I encountered, however, was devising basic rules that included meaningful player choices, which bucked the criteria mentioned earlier to keep the rules simple.

In the initial design, play passed through several traditional phases: attackers move forward, defenders fire (simultaneously with attackers if suitably armed), attackers throw weapons if so armed and within range, and both sides resolve close combat at the defensive line. Much of the gameplay focused on rolling handfuls of dice (one for each participant in ranged combat) and then a 2D6 roll plus the number of combatants on a side to resolve close combat. Attacker casualties go back to the starting line to move forward next turn while defender casualties leave the field permanently. Repeat. This amounted to little more than moving and rolling hits for forces, with few player choices to determine tactics.

Running scenarios on the wargaming table helped put things in perspective and forced me to more closely examine gameplay. I noted several key points where players made decisions to affect the game, though they were not as numerous or influential as I’d have liked, nor numerous enough for wargamers with any degree of experience. Attackers choose when to launch subsequent waves; obviously waiting until a wave has a good number of soldiers helps, but with a turn limit on the overall battle this sometimes becomes an issue. For attackers with spears the player had to choose whether they should throw them at troops still engaged in close combat, possibly hitting their own forces (a double-edged sword, since casualties lowered the overall chance of success in close combat, but instantly “recycled” to the charge’s starting line). I realized defenders had a choice, too; if attackers moved into close combat, or any close combatants remained at the end of the turn, the defender had to determine which soldiers remained engaged and which could fire on a new wave of charging attackers, possibly lowering the strength of his force in direct combat.

Balancing Advantages

I also realized I faced a challenge in creating and balancing advantages to both reflect possibilities for various historical periods and provide meaningful choices in gameplay. How should I integrate the possibility of artillery for defenders, and do I offer that option for attackers in terms of covering artillery fire for charging infantry? How do cavalry forces integrate within the established rules and existing infantry forces? What advantages within established game mechanics of movement and combat do I provide for attackers to reflect the historical “realities” (or “myths” as some might argue) such as Dervishes’ religious fervor or Zulus’ warrior prowess?

I’m developing different solutions to these problems as I quickly move forward dabbling with this game concept. This missive lacks the framework of actual game rules, something I’m developing to send out for playtesting when ready. At some point, however, I feel I’m just going to have to compromise on some issues, particularly those of developing an overly simple wargame and offering more options for player choice.

As always, I encourage constructive feedback and civilized discussion. Share a link to this blog entry on Google+ and tag me (+Peter Schweighofer) to comment.

Dragon & Challenge Nostalgia

In looking through my first issues of Dragon Magazine and Challenge Magazine -- acquired in my far younger days when the roleplaying game hobby was still new to many -- I re-evaluated the nostalgic fondness I’ve felt for them these many years. Of the many gaming periodicals that have come or gone, they’re they only two to which I actively subscribed…though I received my share of promotional copies and subscriptions of other magazines over the years, and picked up single issues of others that contained articles relevant to my many, diverse interests. Although one might argue that print magazines remain an extinct dinosaur in our current Internet Age, such relics offer a glimpse into the adventure gaming hobby’s past that can help inform us how to move forward with such material in the future.

Dragon Magazine Issue #66, October 1982

I discovered Dungeons & Dragons in the spring of 1982 (as an Easter present from my parents, no less), and spent the following months reading rules, playing games, devising adventures, and otherwise consuming B/X D&D and Advanced Dungeons & Dragons in what I fondly recall as the “Summer of D&D.” That autumn I started as a freshman in our town’s high school and was delighted to find a small clique of older students on my bus route who were quite into D&D (though I doubt the feeling was mutual). One day on the bus they were passing around and reading a gaming resource I’d never seen before: Dragon Magazine. At my next visit to the local hobby store I picked up a copy; my subscription form was soon in the mail.

Long considered the source for new material for Advanced Dungeons & Dragons (“official” or otherwise) and TSR’s many other game lines, my earliest issue of Dragon Magazine struck me on recent examination with two major impressions: many articles seemed contentious about what was “right” for the game; and others provided lots of new material like monsters and spells. At the time issue #66 released D&D was eight years old (1974 being the official publication date of the original “OD&D” edition), though the iterations of B/X D&D and AD&D familiar to most gamers released in 1977, about a year after Dragon Magazine began publication. In 1982 Gary Gygax still contributed a significant portion of the material each month, both in the form of columns filled with new rules or rules interpretations and editorial missives on various controversies and debates among contentious gamers.

At the time the fledgling adventure game hobby still debated game mechanic and theme issues as roleplaying games continued to evolve, both toward more established, “official” versions of existing games and toward newer, innovative releases. Dragon Magazine, obviously, served as TSR’s house publication, a forum for rules pronouncements from Gygax, and a font of new material from up-and-coming game industry writers.

Two other elements struck me in my nostalgic review of Dragon Magazine #66 that continued to hold true for print magazines. The advertisements offered an interesting glimpse of the state of the adventure gaming hobby of the time, including ads for mainstream game releases (TSR’s Gangbusters boxed set, Grenadier Models figures, Steve Jackson’s Illuminati, ICE’s Rolemaster series, and GDW’s Traveller) alongside smaller ads for play-by-mail games, mail-order game services, and the infamous “complete wizard outfit.”

The other element touched on what we’d call today “intellectual property” issues. Dragon Magazine #66 included an article provided AD&D stats and descriptions of characters from Wendy and Richard Pini’s legendary Elfquest comic book series (“graphic novel” series in today’s parlance). The article promoted the Elfquest series by porting its characters for use in AD&D, and even included a copyright notice acknowledging the Pini’s rights; but by today’s standards -- and by those demonstrated by contentious intellectual property owners even within the adventure gaming hobby -- this might well be considered copyright infringement.

Yet in my younger, more naïve days Dragon Magazine #66 packed engaging information about aspects of the game I’d not considered with a host of new material; though I was particularly drawn to it by the numerous articles on languages in D&D and the included Thieves’ Cant dictionary. The rules for the “Module Design Competition” inspired me to create more adventures (none worthy of submission, of course) and promised, and later delivered, a host of useful and entertaining scenarios in the magazine’s removable center pages. It continued inspiring my gaming efforts throughout high school and into my early college years, though by then other pursuits and my changing taste in games had me looking for other gaming periodical fare…

Challenge Magazine #41, 1989

I stumbled upon a back issue of Challenge Magazine in one of the game stores I frequented in the years after college when I worked as a reporter and later editor for my hometown weekly newspaper. I can’t recall which hobby store, because I frequented several on a regular basis; I also dropped in on any game stores near my younger gaming friends I often visited on college campuses. When they were home during the summer -- or on my frequent campus visits -- we played character-driven campaigns for West End Games’ Star Wars Roleplaying Game, GDW’s Space 1889, and R. Talsorian’s Cyberpunk 2020 (among other one-shots). When I found Challenge Magazine 41 in 1991 I was overjoyed; it covered many of the games our group played or ones that held my interest. I’d just picked up GDW’s re-launched MegaTraveller game, as I’d been a on-and-off fan of the Traveller game since my early gaming days. I subscribed to the venerable Journal of the Travellers Aid Society for four quarterly issues, so I was happy to see that periodical’s legacy transferred to a broader scope.

Issue #41 proved an accurate representation of what the Challenge Magazine would offer throughout its brief, bi-monthly run: solid support for GDW’s game lines, including MegaTraveller, 2300 AD, Space 1889, and Twilight: 2000 with occasional coverage for other contemporarily popular games, including Shadowrun, Cyberpunk, Star Wars, many by prolific or well-known authors of the time. After I was established at West End Games as editor of The Official Star Wars Adventure Journal we even hired one of Challenge Magazine’s frequent contributors as another editor for the game line in part based on his periodical work.

The subscription form from issue #41 remains cut out from my copy; I started my subscription with issue #49 in 1991 and held on until the magazine’s sad demise in 1995. The magazine had an open submission policy; I eventually submitted and published my first game material in my long and storied career, two Star Wars Roleplaying Game adventures (not very good ones, I’ll admit).

Like my first issue of Dragon Magazine examined in retrospect, Challenge Magazine #41 offered insights into two interesting aspects of game publishing at the time: advertisements and intellectual property issues. The magazine’s advertising focused by its very nature on GDW’s numerous game lines, with a few interesting additions featuring TSR’s Buck Rogers board game, FASA’s popular Battletech line, and White Wolf magazine. The more interesting aspect remains the conundrum of intellectual property rights. Certainly GDW filled Challenge Magazine with a host of material supporting its own games, but it remained open to submissions supporting other companies’ games, in many cases without their permission or oversight.

Most game companies enjoyed -- and some still do -- seeing their game lines promoted in such magazines even without the benefit of approvals oversight; it was, essentially, free publicity. I’d like to think the adventure gaming industry back then was a little more understanding and civil in such matters, though some companies raised a rather vocal fuss over such cross-promotional articles and aggressively protected their intellectual properties from appearing in anything but official company publications.

In our current Internet Age where intellectual property law sometimes wanders into such gray areas it seems publishers -- both professional and amateur -- prefer to avoid such problems. They can achieve this in some ways by producing material for games in the Open Game License realm or under Creative Commons licensing.

But for their time, both Dragon and Challenge Magazines treated their readers to a broad range of material that, yes, even included other companies’ games and even licensed properties. No doubt they intended it more to enhance the readers’ experience than profit from and offend the copyright holders in question.

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Thoughts on the Random Dungeon

I’m returning to my Oracle System-driven roleplaying game design for Basic Fantasy Heroes as an occasional break from work on the miniature wargame rules for Panzer Kids. The rules went through several rounds of playtesting earlier this year, with solid input and good insights on fine-tuning the system and improving the presentation. But aside from running a few test encounters myself to see how combat worked out within the overall Oracle System, I’d not have a chance to run a small band of heroes through a scenario. So I turned to a solitaire alternative using a random dungeon system to generate an adventure in which I, as player, truly could not anticipate what the characters would face from one room to the next. Beyond offering a taste of the Basic Fantasy Heroes game system mechanics in an actual play setting (albeit solitaire), the experience helped me come to some conclusions about what I expect in random dungeon solo play.

Rationale

I wanted to adhere to certain conditions in undertaking this foray into solitaire random dungeon adventuring, primarily to provide a realistic experience using the character and combat rules I’d developed in a fully unexpected setting. To this end I created three beginning characters using my Basic Fantasy Heroes rules: a priest, elf, and dwarf, each with their own specialties that would affect gameplay (primarily combat).

My main concern was generating a dungeon layout with interesting results for solo gameplay. I’m no expert on the various options available today for solitaire dungeon generation. Giving in to my nostalgia, I initially turned to the original material created on this subject, the Gygaxian system in “Appendix A. Random Dungeon Generation” of the Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Dungeon Masters Guide.

To vary my approach I also polled some folks on Google+. Several offered good suggestions on alternate, more recently developed random dungeon generation systems available. Thanks to John Fiore, host extraordinaire of the Solo Nexus blog, I picked up the No Budget No Frills Pencil and Paper Dungeon Generator, Ver. 3.0 by John Yorio over at the Tabletop Diversions blog. (Though I’m also interested in eventually picking up the geomorph Dungeon Dice Clayton Rider suggested.) The discussion also covered TSR’s Cardmaster Adventure Design Deck, which I own but declined to use in this particular exercise.

In both cases I decided to create my own first-level dungeon monster encounter table based on the low-level creatures I’d devised for Basic Fantasy Heroes -- not all the creatures I’ve developed have corollaries in the AD&D Dungeon Masters Guide monster tables, and I didn’t want to outright translate that game directly to mine -- but they still ran the range from bandits and goblins to giant centipedes and slime. The presence of traps in both dungeon generation rules revealed to me that I’d not considered rules for traps in Basic Fantasy Heroes; so I quickly drafted some functional notes on how certain iconic traps worked within the Oracle System framework with an eye to developing them more fully later.

I intended to try two strategies in recording my solo dungeon-delving experience: creating an annotated map (somewhat of a necessity in these exercises) and writing an in-character chronicle describing events, encounters, and reactions (an idea John Fiore has featured over at Solo Nexus, though he recommends not writing in a player character’s voice). Experience with both random dungeon generating systems showed the map an obvious requirement and the primary focus of the game. In the course of rolling, mapping, and handling combat encounters, however, I regret the adventure diary chronicle fell by the wayside; I liked the character narrator, but it seemed a strain to catalog encounters in an engaging style, even in the most general sense (though I was quite happy with my introduction).

The Gygaxian Labyrinth

At first glance the byzantine tables in the Dungeon Masters Guide appendix seemed to lead one down the path to revealing a dungeon with all the complexities one expects: traps, monsters, treasure, secret doors. Slightly weighted tables favored some results over others, but not by much. The system seemed more attuned to taking into account every possibility within the dungeon layout and offering an unbiased result, giving almost every option the same chance of occurrence.

Amid all the twisting corridors and intersections my intrepid heroes came upon seven rooms, four empty ones and three containing monsters. For the solitaire play -- and in chronicling the adventure writing as one of the heroes -- empty rooms proved extremely boring. I found myself wishing I had some means of determining any descriptive features about the chambers just to liven things up and give some clue about their past use and the dungeon’s origins. Despite the tables for traps and treasure, the heroes didn’t encounter any. The random monsters they confronted had no theme to them other than “Level 1” and, typical for this kind of exercise, there seemed no rationale for them being there other than excuses I created for the adventure diary chronicle: obviously bandits were probably looting the dungeon like the heroes and the cave mantids made a nest in one of the chambers, but why kobolds were hiding behind an illusionary wall in one room is beyond me.

What also occurred to me as I tired of this exercise was the lack of any meaningful conclusion. My heroes simply reached a point where they’d had enough and back-tracked their way to the dungeon entrance. Assuming they returned to the nearest town to tend their wounds and cash in their treasure, they had little compelling reason to return to their subterranean explorations other than the promise of haphazard carnage and loot.

No-Frills Simplicity

The no-frills dungeon generator promised a far more simplified method than the Gygaxian model: roll 1d12 and consult the table. The 12 possible results included an even distribution for various corridor types and three kinds of rooms, those with monsters, traps, and the infamous ones with nothing at all. Asterisked notes included intuitive methods for determining corridor length, chamber size, and the number of doors in a room (though I modified these from 1d10 rolls to 1d6 rolls). .

My heroes began their delve and started exploring the catacombs with far more ease than navigating the numerous Gygaxian dungeon-generation tables. The results seemed more interesting, too; of four rooms they discovered, two held monsters and two traps…no empty rooms in this dungeon. That’s as far as they got because the presence of more traps wore down the party. Traps appear in locations (rooms or corridors) one time in six, with monsters appearing one time in twelve. The dungeon also remained void of any kind of thematic rationale aside from the fact that the bandits were probably looting the place, too, and the giant centipedes had nested in another chamber.

Between the two random dungeon generation systems, though, I liked the no-frills one over the more complex and time-consuming Gygaxian method. The no-frills system benefitted from both brevity and a better presentation, with each result illustrated by a mini-map geomorph depicting the dungeon feature. But it highlighted the need for separate tables for corridors and rooms as well as the variability of having even slightly weighted tables. Both systems -- one possibly the first in the adventure gaming hobby, the other a recent refinement -- left me feeling somewhat unsatisfied. Yes, they both certainly challenged me as a player to use character resources and specialties to overcome adversaries and survive traps, but they lacked even the most basic contextual story elements.

Themed & Skewed

Although I actually achieved my original mission of playtesting the rules and characters in the context of a solitaire random dungeon crawl, I can’t help but consider how to craft a more fulfilling solitaire play experience in a relatively random dungeon. I think adding both a basic theme and some skewed (or escalating) results might help add more intriguing narrative elements to elevate the experience beyond a completely random hack-and-slash delve. I’m envisioning a quick setting paragraph to put the dungeon entrance and its theme in context, followed by tables to generate corridors and chambers (favoring some results over others). I’d include a monster encounter table customized to the theme (vermin, goblins, magical creatures, etc.) incorporating an escalating mechanic to push future rolls up the spectrum toward a “boss” monster. It’s something I’ll think about as a possible solitaire random dungeon generation system when I next feel the need to explore some new game design territory.

My ultimate lesson learned concerns the nature of random dungeon generation as discovered by the necessity of gradually revealed solo play. Dungeon delves -- while the primal form of adventuring in the hobby -- remain a limited form, more so in the random dungeon generation style used for solitaire play. More involved campaign play, balancing wilderness, town, and dungeon encounters, offers more possibilities for a richer solitaire experience and hence more interesting narrative possibilities for chronicles recording adventures.

Next time I need a break and feel the need to test my Basic Fantasy Heroes rules in a more varied narrative setting, I’ll grab my sets of Rory’s Story Cubes (regular and Voyages) and send my characters through the paces of John Fiore’s The 9Qs Solo RPG Engine.

As always, I encourage constructive feedback and civilized discussion. Share a link to this blog entry on Google+ and tag me (+Peter Schweighofer) to comment.

The Charm of Cozy Cons

In 30 years engaging in roleplaying games and other gaming pursuits -- including 20 of those years working in some capacity in the adventure gaming hobby -- I’ve attended my fair share of conventions great and small. While I’ve enjoyed the massive, crowded spectacle of GenCon, I’ve found more satisfaction at smaller, regional conventions with more personable atmosphere.

Mega-Cons

Immense conventions like GenCon -- and its cousin in the board and wargaming hobbies, Origins -- certainly have their place. They offer fantastic opportunities for those fortunate enough to attend all while drumming up floods of excitement for game lines. These mega-conventions often attract industry representatives from the hobby’s most illustrious publishers who interact with attendees in dealers halls and seminars; many use huge conventions to announce or debut new products or entire game lines. Awards ceremonies recognize outstanding achievements in the hobby. Demo areas offer gamers a chance to try the latest games, often with those actually involved in their production. They host a huge roster of events ranging from small games, mini-campaigns, organized play, vast miniatures scenarios, seminars, workshops, even giant-sized board games.

It can all seem a bit overwhelming, even to some who’ve attended several times. I was fortunate to go as a representative for West End Games while working on the Star Wars Roleplaying Game line and returned several times since. When I wasn’t working the booth or running a Star Wars game, I spent most of my time wandering the vast dealers hall, checking out games and companies that interested me, trying demos, talking with industry notables, and drumming up freelance business. The only games I ever ran were for West End Games events (including a few notable charity auction events featuring illustrious Star Wars novelists roleplaying their characters). I spent evenings with colleagues and friends, but, as I was usually working, couldn’t indulge in the all-night gaming that usually occurs. The crowds often hinder one’s ability to simply move around, whether you’re trying to navigate the ever-packed dealers hall, expo center corridors, nearby streets, or even restaurants. Attending a massive convention like GenCon always seemed like the ultimate aspiration for the average gamer -- it certainly was for me as a newcomer to the hobby long ago -- but such an overwhelming experience isn’t always the best introduction to the world of gaming conventions.

Small Regional Cons 

While the massive cons occur once a year in what for many gamers are geographically distant destinations, many live within driving distance of several smaller regional conventions. These vary widely on different levels, including the nature of the organizing body, venue size, variety of game offerings, and attendance. Local game clubs, gaming stores, or a core of gaming fan friends frequently organize conventions to encourage the hobby and offer a safe, hospitable place for longtime gamers and newcomers. They host events in whatever venues fit their expected attendance, planned activities, and budget, anywhere from a local civic center hall to all the conference facilities at an area hotel. The range of events varies, too, with different conventions offering roleplaying games, miniature wargames, board games, vendors halls, and panel discussions in different quantities. Convention attendance often fluctuates depending on its popularity, time of year, location, and reputation over the years, but many come in at less than 1,000 attendees; even those exceeding that number still seem small when compared with GenCon’s reported 50,000 unique attendees.

Some conventions rely on a cozy, community set-up where several aspects of the convention share a central space that encourages mingling and movement. This usually focuses on two areas essential to many conventions: gaming space and dealers hall. In these cases organizers sometimes take a vast ballroom space and -- without actually using room dividers -- designate different territory, with vendors at one end and game tables at the other, or with gaming tables in the center and dealers set up around the perimeter.

One of my first small conventions after I joined West End Games more than 20 years ago demonstrated this concept nicely. At the time MarsCon was a cozy little sci-fi fandom convention with a sizable representation for roleplaying and other games. The hotel programming space consisted of a large ballroom and a few smaller rooms (divided ballroom space) for seminars, workshops, and entertainment. Dealers occupied one third of the gaming ballroom; when the “dealers room” closed, hotel staff shut the divider on that portion of the room and locked the door. The arrangement allowed for the dealers to directly front the gaming area during most of the convention, giving free visibility and access to a solid portion of their customer base.

I’ve attended several bi-annual wargaming conventions in Williamsburg, VA, that demonstrate a similar community concept. The convention has one vast ballroom (in addition to several others divided for various kinds of gaming); tables for miniature wargames occupy the center of the ballroom with numerous vendor tables set up around the perimeter, allowing attendees to freely wander between the two, gaming, shopping, and observing all the convention’s action in the main venue. Certainly many cozy cons overflow into nearby meeting spaces or ballrooms, but concentrated as they are, they offer a cozy community space where most of the attendees can freely mingle whatever their personal goals for successful convention enjoyment. They offer a friendly atmosphere where gamers, customers, dealers, and convention goers mingle freely in a central common space.

As a gamer parent I’m partial to smaller events with fewer crowds and stimulus to overwhelm my preschool-age child and distract me from my parenting duties. Granted, I’m hoping to bring him to one of the smaller conventions within driving distance, though ones that require hotel stays to fully appreciate. My past experience has shown these can more fully cater to kids in providing a less-overwhelming atmosphere, plenty of friendly places to sit down and catch one’s breath, and yet not skimp on the presence of friendly gamers and fantastic-looking, engaging games. Keeping a few parental strategies helps, too: focusing on events the preschooler might like; staying open-minded in exposing him to new games; finding events particularly suited for kids or parent-child players; and knowing when to take a break or call it a day.

Where Do You Find Those Wonderful Cons?

Networking remains the key to finding fulfilling gaming experiences. The internet has made finding local conventions much easier through convention websites, social networking circles, gaming forums and communities, publisher websites, gamer blogs, and gaming news feeds. Running a web search for “Virginia gaming conventions” (inserting your own state name, of course) can summon a host of helpful and dubious convention listing sites. Don’t dismiss actual face-to-face networking, though; talk to folks in your gaming circles, including staff and customers at the Friendly Local Gaming Store (FLGS). Some regions have more conventions than others; it’s a sad commentary on the geographical distribution of gamers, game stores, and overall interest in the hobby.

I’ve taken years to discover and in many cases try out various local conventions. Many I found while looking around on the internet, though some I’ve heard about through word of mouth from fellow gaming friends. Some I try to attend as scheduling permits, but a few I’ve yet to try out. Living in on the frontier of Northern Virginia I’m within two hours’ drive or so of several interesting gaming conventions: Williamsburg Muster in February, Madicon in March; the relatively new 1d4Con in April; and Guns of August in, well, August. Virginia boasts several other conventions, but they’re primarily fan media cons with smaller, often tertiary gaming tracks.

The fluid and impermanent nature of the internet makes finding one source for regional conventions difficult, but here are a few websites which -- at first glance, at least -- look like fairly helpful, informative, and maintained convention listing websites: the Upcoming Cons website features a listing of gaming cons limited to the next several months (as well as listings for other kinds of cons); Game Convention Central lists cons by region (and includes international conventions); and the always-helpful BoardGameGeek website features a conventions listing wiki page.

Online communities also offer forums one can search for references to past or upcoming conventions and receive the usual biased reports on what goes on there, how well-organized they are, and the kind of events to expect. Searching Facebook and Google+ may also yield results, as many established (and even some nascent) cons maintain social networking presences there to build interest and inform potential con-goers.

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