Page by Page: Gary Gygax’s DMG Part 14

This is the fourteenth installment of my continuing series on the 1979 Dungeon Master’s Guide, written by Gary Gygax. This post begins with the section “Monsters and Organization” on page 104, and continues through “Siege Engines and Devices of War Defensive Values” on page 110. My purpose is not to review the DMG, but to go through it as a modern gamer, learning about the roots of Dungeons and Dragons, and making note when I see something surprising or interesting, or something which could be adapted for a modern game.

You can read all posts in this series under the Gary Gygax’s DMG tag.

Monsters and Organization, Repetition: So, this is just kinda silly, but I thought this passage was odd:

“As has been stressed herein, you will find that it is necessary to assume the various roles and personae of all creatures not represented by players. This can be particularly difficult in combat situations. You must be able to quickly determine what the monsters involved will do in any given situation, and this can be particularly difficult in combat situations.”

Monsters and Organization, Make a Note: Gary writes that before the players announce their course of action, the GM should write down what the monsters will do. That way, when the players argue that the monsters seem overly-intuitive, the GM can show the note he or she made and prove the monsters decided on their actions before the players did.

I’m sure Gary found this useful, but it seems like strange advice to me. In all my years as a GM, I don’t think I’ve ever actually had a player argue with me. At least not very forcefully, and certainly not so frequently that I’ve needed to develop counter-measures for it. My general impression is that Gary liked to…’stress’ his players more than I do, so perhaps that was a factor. But ultimately, if I had a player who questioned my honesty so frequently that I needed to start using counter-measures to prove I wasn’t being unfair, then I would be fine telling them to leave my table.

Monsters and Organization, Six Examples: It’s been a lot of pages since I saw something this awesome. Modern DMGs need to include this information. It doesn’t even need to be updated, they can just copy it from the 1979 DMG, and past it un-edited into the new ones.

Gary goes through six different groups the players might attack, and provides two examples for how each might react; with the first being how they would react to the initial attack, and the second being how they would react to a second attack a week following. It’s one thing to say over-and-over again that the GM should control the monsters and NPCs intelligently, it’s a different thing entirely to have detailed examples for undead, giant ants, orcs, a small town, a bandit camp, and a fortress. I would honestly say I learned something from this section.

Use of Non-Human Troops: When I started reading the DMG, all I knew about it was that a lot of people consider it to be one of the most important RPG books ever written. A work so profoundly insightful and ahead of its time, that even modern works which attempt to build on its success have not made it irrelevant. A book which got it right, while so many modern books somehow get it wrong.

I’ve found this to be half true. Yes, much of the book is amazing and awesome. Often in these fourteen posts so far, I’ve written that some section or another ought to be included in modern RPG texts. In fact I wrote that just a moment ago, just scroll up to the previous section!

Unfortunately, for every great section like “Monsters and Organizations,” there’s a section like “Use of non-human troops,” which is gratuitously useless. The fact that the various fantasy races don’t get along with one another is well documented. There’s even a “Racial Preferences Table” in the Player’s Handbook, which is referenced here. I can see how that would be useful.

Do you know what isn’t useful?

The knowledge that a weak human leader with no officers to directly control troops will only have a 25% chance to control the actions of a group of Kobolds. But I can raise it to a 95% chance if the player is a strong leader, and I have plenty of officers.

Who cares? 

I suspect this subject (which seems to come up often) has a lot to do with Gygax’s roots as a wargamer.

Underground Construction: What did I JUST say?!

Constructions: Here, Gygax lists a number of building types, and their costs. He gets into detail like doors, arrow slits, etc. This level of detail does not interest me, nor can I really figure out how it should work in play. I can’t even imagine how long it would take to price out this kind of stuff.

Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen rules for crafting a stronghold which I actually liked. Does anyone know of an example? Or perhaps I should just craft my own.

Siege Engines and Devices of War: This seems really overly complex to me. This feels like it was written for a war game where siege weapons would be a major game element, rather than for a role playing game where (ostensibly) individual character actions would be the focus. There’s two full pages of rules for hit determination, attack values, defense values…I think it may be more complicated than AD&D’s actual combat system.

Page by Page: Gary Gygax’s DMG Part 13

This is the thirteenth installment of my continuing series on the 1979 Dungeon Master’s Guide, written by Gary Gygax. This post begins with the section “Non-Player Characters” on page 100, and continues through “Hiring Non-Player Characters to Cast Spells or Use Devices” on page 104. My purpose is not to review the DMG, but to go through it as a modern gamer, learning about the roots of Dungeons and Dragons, and making note when I see something surprising or interesting, or something which could be adapted for a modern game.

You can read all posts in this series under the Gary Gygax’s DMG tag. And yes, this is the second day I’ve posted one of these in a row. And nobody can stop me! Mwuahaha!

Personae of Non-Player Characters: Random charts to determine an NPC’s traits are nothing new. Though, I suppose they probably were new when this book was published. None the less, the concept is commonplace enough that I don’t really have anything to say about it.

The execution of this particular set of charts, however, is odd. Some of the charts seem to overlap each other (such as Alignment & Morality. More on that later), while others seem only marginally useful, such as “Energy” and “Thrift.” Why does every NPC need to be defined on a scale between “Slothful” and “Driven?” Despite these complaints, the charts are pretty good. I like the idea of rolling for an NPC’s level of bravery, or their level of honesty. I don’t recall seeing those on most NPC generation charts, and it seems like something I would use.

Reading this section gave me an idea I’ll need to play with at some point. The gist of it is a set of ‘tiered’ random charts for determining NPC traits. The first tier contains only the most vital information for generating a random NPC, such as their age, race, and profession. It’s small, and can be kept at the table to quickly come up with interesting characters. The second chart would be a little more detailed, and could be used if this particular NPC ended up sticking around for an entire game session or two. It would determine character traits which might not be immediately apparent, such as the character’s piety or knowledge. If the NPC became a long-term addition to the game world, a potential third chart could be used to give them some items of minutia (backstory, marital status, etc.) which the GM can use to keep the character interesting over time.

Morals:

Morals refer to the sexual tendencies of the NPC, although this trait rating can be used with regard to some ethical questions.”

Um…WHAT!?

First, why is that a thing the GM needs to know? Second, why would this come up? Third, why is sexuality framed as morality? This bothers me a whole hell of a lot. Look at the possible options when rolling on the ‘morality’ table:

Morals (d12)
1. Aesthetic
2. Virtuous
3. Normal
4. Normal
5. lusty
6. lusty
7. lustful
8. immoral
9. amoral
10. perverted
11. sadistic
12. depraved

The progression is pretty clear: the more sex you have, the less moral you are. I’m just happy he didn’t go so far as to define what he meant by terms 8-12. I’m fairly certain I wouldn’t like knowing what G.G. thought of my sexuality.

Non-Player Character Encounter/Offer Reaction Adjustments: This is a good example of what I was referring to yesterday when I wrote that Gygax was a poor communicator. I honestly have no idea what anything in this section means. At all. There are some words, and some percentages which can either positively or negatively affect something based on aforementioned words…but that’s all I can gather.

Based on the title of the section, I imagine there’s a concept described either elsewhere in the DMG or in the PHB which I’m supposed to apply this section to. But that doesn’t really help me much.

Height and Weight Tables: Why not use the tables that were printed for player characters? Why did they need to be printed again? 0.o

Special Roles of the Dungeon Master: I don’t have a lot to say about this section, but I feel like I’ve been harshing on Gary a lot in these last two segments. So I want to point out that these ~1.5 pages are great. They cover their topic in detail, along with an example to help budding GMs understand how the directives presented here function in play. I particularly like the subsection on monsters, which demands that the GM always play the monsters intelligently. And demands it with no lack of emphasis, going so far as to say “In all cases, the DM is absolutely obligated to play the monster in question to the best of his or her ability.” The example of play demonstrating the difficulties a player might encounter when searching for an NPC wizard is also very well written, and pretty funny to boot.

Page by Page: Gary Gygax’s DMG Part 12

This is the twelfth installment of my continuing series on the 1979 Dungeon Master’s Guide, written by Gary Gygax. This post begins with the section “First Dungeon Adventure” on page 96, and continues through the example of play which ends on page 100. My purpose is not to review the DMG, but to go through it as a modern gamer, learning about the roots of Dungeons and Dragons, and making note when I see something surprising or interesting, or something which could be adapted for a modern game.

You can read all posts in this series under the Gary Gygax’s DMG tag.

The First Dungeon Adventure: The whole point of having an example of play is to demonstrate the basics of the game, to introduce the GM to what their role is, and how they should interact with the player. This first section, which is geared towards how to move the players towards an adventure, does a halfway decent job of that. But it could be much better, in my opinion. Rather than simply writing “You inform them that there is a rumor in the village that something strange and terrible lurks in the abandoned monastery not far from the place,” why not directly address the what a hook is and how it should be handled? The example is fine, if a little mundane, but it could have been improved by adding something as simple as: “This is called the adventure hook. The purpose is to inform and entice the players towards an adventure, though the GM should avoid forcing the players down any given path.” Which is pretty much exactly what Gygax does in the next bit, where he describes the character’s guide. It’s noted that the guide might be “an agent of some good or evil power, a thief in disguise, or just about anything else.”

I don’t think this section is bad, but in my reading of this book so far, it has become apparent that Gygax, though brilliant, was not the best communicator*. Perhaps I am wrong. I never met the man. But, since this is often considered to be his greatest work, I think it’s a pretty fair assessment. The above is hardly the worst example I’ve encountered, but it is relevant because the following section is a back-and-forth between players and GM. I’ve heard from a few different sources that reading and re-reading this section is how they learned to play. It’s where all the confusing rules start to make sense.

*Which isn’t to say I am.

Example of Play:

(After asking the players to provide their marching order).

“DM: “Why are the gnome and the halfling in the front rank, the magic user in the middle, and the human fighter and cleric in the rear?”

LC: “That way all 5 of us can act when we encounter an enemy! The magic-user can cast spells over the heads of the short characters in front, and the pair in the back rank can do likewise, or fire missiles, or whatever is needed, including a quick move to the front!”

This is right near the start of the example of play, and I think it’s my favorite exchange presented. I’ve written before about the importance of clarity both from the GM and from the players. If one party doesn’t fully understand the other, then the game starts to feel unfair. I do my best to be clear, and if I don’t fully understand what my players are doing, I’ll ask them to describe it in greater detail. But I don’t think I’ve ever considered asking “why” they’re doing something. To ask that would almost seem like participating in their decision making, which is not my role. My role is to respond to their actions.

However, here “why” is clearly used to improve the clarity of the situation. If the GM would not allow the fighter in the back row to use a ranged weapon over the magic user’s head, then it’s better the players find out now, rather than when they’re in combat.

“DM: “Just as the three are about in position to look down the passages, and while the cleric is heading for the rotting bags, the magic-user cries out, and you see something black and nasty looking upon her shoulder!”

LC: “EVERYBODY, QUICK! SEE WHAT’S ATTACKED HER!” Then, turning to the referee: “We rush over to help kill whatever has attacked her! What do we see?”

Okay, two things.

LC, I get that you’re excited. The game is exciting, and something exciting is happening. But you really don’t need to shout across the table for everyone’s character to see what attacked the magic user. Everybody wants to know that. They’re all gonna look. I know this is just Gygax having some fun, but LC just officially became that guy for me.

Which, more to the point, the LC (Lead Character) concept is just weird. I understand that sometimes a certain player is going to become the de facto leader of the adventuring party, but the way it is presented here is strange. The LC literally announces the actions of every character, and apparently those players are cool with it. Perhaps this was done to save space, but the LC implies a style of play where most of the participants are almost spectators.

OC: (The cleric, of course.) “I squash the nasty thing with my mace!” and here the player, having already gained savoir faire, rolls a d20 to see if his strike is successful. A 20, and a beaming player shouts: “I got it!”

DM: “You’re right, and you do … (with these words the DM rolls a d6 to determine the amount of damage) SIX POINTS!”

So…why does the GM roll the player’s damage? Any oldschool players wanna educate me on this?

“DM: Each of you who are opening the door roll a d6 for me to see if you succeed. I see from you character sheets that the gnome has a normal strength, so he’ll need a 1 or a 2, the cleric has 17 strength so he’ll do it on a 1, 2, or 3.” (Eager hands roll the dice, and each succeeds in rolling a score low enough to indicate success.)”

Nearly every roll in this entire example of play is a success. I could really have used an example of what to do if the players fail at opening a door. Do they simply roll again? Is there a random monster check?

“OC: (The gnome:) “I’ll pull myself up into the passage revealed, and then I’ll see if I can drive in a spike and secure my rope to it, so I can throw the free end down to the others.”

DM: “You get up all right, and there is a crack where you can pound in a spike. As you’re doing it, you might be in for a nasty surprise, so I’ll let you roll a six-sider for me to see your status–make the roll! (Groans as a 1 comes up indicating surprise. The DM then rolls 3 attacks for the ghoul that grabbed at the busy gnome, and one claw attack does 2 hit points of damage and paralyzes the hapless character, whereupon the DM judges that the other 3 would rend him to bits. However, the DM does NOT tell the players what has happened, despite impassioned please and urgent demands. He simply relates:) “You see a sickly gray arm strike the gnome as he’s working on the spike, the gnome utters a muffled cry, and then a shadowy form drags him out of sight. What are you others going to do?”

I’m really glad a character death was included in the example of play. Honestly, if I were going to write a DMG, I might include an entire chapter on character death. It’s one of the most difficult things for a new GM to do, and it is really easy to do it wrong if you don’t have some good examples to work with.

The Gnome’s death is well justified. He entered an entirely new area, didn’t look around at all, and immediately began to make large amounts of monster-attracting noise. Though I do find it interesting that the character was not explicitly given a save v. paralysis.

Overall Assessment: The example of play was actually quite good. Many of my frustrations with the writing were not as prevalent here, and I can see why people would rely on this to teach them the game. Perhaps more examples of play are warranted in future DMGs. What if nearly every page of the DMG had a side-bar with a very brief example of play, demonstrating the concepts presented on that page?

It’s difficult for a new GM with new players to really understand the game they’re attempting to play. I’ve never heard of anybody in that situation who didn’t have some really awkward experiences before they figured out what they were doing. More examples like these might help mitigate that, and open up tabletop games to more casual gamers.

Page by Page: Gary Gygax’s DMG Part 11

I apologize for my recent four day absence. My ladyfriend, who has been out of town for the last month, only just returned. I opted to spend some time with her without writing eating up my time. Back now, though!

This is the eleventh installment of my continuing series on the 1979 Dungeon Master’s Guide, written by Gary Gygax. This post begins with the section “Peasants, Serfs, and Slaves” on page 94, and continues through “Secret Doors” on page 97. My purpose is not to review the DMG, but to go through it as a modern gamer, learning about the roots of Dungeons and Dragons, and making note when I see something surprising or interesting, or something which could be adapted for a modern game.

You can read all posts in this series under the Gary Gygax’s DMG tag.

I’m doing some skipping around here. I’d like to address the sample dungeon and the dungeon advice here, and the example of play in part 12.

Level Key: While this is a perfectly functional key for the dungeon presented, I think Gygax misses an important opportunity here to talk about dungeon notation. Everybody knows dungeon maps are needed, but I don’t know if I’ve ever seen an official source discuss how to draw maps. It’s not a simple proposition! In fact it’s one that I’ve struggled with myself for many years, and have plans to write about in the future.

For example, how might one indicate that a room has multiple levels to it? Perhaps a balcony 7ft of the ground? Obviously it could be referenced in the room’s description, but I think it would be much better if it could be indicated visually. Some might suggest colored pencils, but many GMs (myself included) work on maps on-the-go, and would find the necessity of special tools inhibiting.

Even ignoring more unusual notations such as those, Gygax only provides 8 symbols here. While perusing a 1994 issue of Dungeon magazine, I found 22 symbols. Most of which where quite useful, such as barred door, locked door, archway, portcullis, window, and trap door in ceiling.

Wandering Monsters: I notice two things about this. First, the potential group sizes of these wandering monsters are huge. A first level party would have to keep on their toes to survive this sample dungeon’s many inhabitants. Second, and much more interesting, most wandering monsters (save for the vermin) list which room they are ‘from.’ I love this idea! If the goblin camp is in area 7, then why should the players continue to encounter hostile goblins after they’ve driven the rest of the camp out of area 7? A straggler or two perhaps, but their presence in the dungeon would quickly die off.

Map: In this map, Gygax has made a couple of decisions which I avoid. For one, there are numerous dead ends. I imagine the purpose of these is to trap players who are fleeing from groups of monsters. While I’m sure they’re effective, I confess I find them rather odd. It’s difficult for me to make logical sense in my mind of why a dead end might be there.

Though I suppose “collapsed passage” serves well enough.

The other oddity here, one which I’m much less fond of, is the trivial nature of most of the secret/concealed doors. When my players find a passage, I like to reward them with something new. That reward may be a room full of deadly monsters, but it won’t simply be another room they’ve explored already. Or at least not one which is nearby. On this map (particularly the passages between 4 & 5; and 36 & 37) I can imagine my players becoming frustrated. Who wants to open a secret passage, only to discover a the room you were in 10 minutes earlier?

Note that I’m not saying such secret passages are flat-out bad design. They can have strategic use, if nothing else. I do think, though, that they’re included in far too many maps, and probably should not be present multiple time in map designed to teach dungeon design to new DMs.

Monestary Cellars & Secret Crypts: Here again, I’d like to see a little more detail. The three room descriptions are nice, but they’re long and not very well organized for actually running a dungeon. Perhaps this is how Gygax noted his dungeons, in which case there’s nothing that could have been done. It’s not as though he could advise on a methodology he didn’t use. But I would have liked to see an explanation of how to make reference notes based on these longer form notes.

Movement and Searching: This information really should have been under “Time in the Dungeon” way back on page 38. It covers some important gaps in that information which I had to fill in myself when I first started to include time tracking in my games. Poor organization is a non-trivial problem for a book. Particularly one ostensibly for use as reference material.

Detection of Unusual Circumstances, Traps, And Hearing Noise: “The GM should tell players what they see, and let them do the rest” is advice I wish I had received when I was learning to GM from the D&D 3.5 books.

Doors: This strikes me as very strange, and I can only imagine I am missing something. Gygax notes that “as a rule of thumb, all doors are hard to open…” He suggests a roll with a 1/3 chance of success any time a character attempts to open a door. This seems quite silly to me, particularly since there’s nothing to stop the characters from rolling until they get a door open. Perhaps he meant that a roll should be required during combat, or other severely time-sensitive time?

Favorite Quotes from this Section

“Mocking their over-cautious behavior as near cowardice, rolling huge handfuls of dice and then telling them the results are negative, and statements to the effect that: “You detect nothing, and nothing has detected YOU so far–“, might suffice.” -Gary Gygax, DMG, Pg. 97

Page by Page: Gary Gygax's DMG Part 10

This is the tenth installment of my continuing series on the 1979 Dungeon Master’s Guide, written by Gary Gygax. This post begins with the section “Economics” on page 90, and continues through “Peasants, Serfs, and Slaves” on page 94. My purpose is not to review the DMG, but to go through it as a modern gamer, learning about the roots of Dungeons and Dragons, and making note when I see something surprising or interesting, or something which could be adapted for a modern game.

You can read all posts in this series under the Gary Gygax’s DMG tag.

Economics: According to this section, the prices of items used in the game reflect an economy which has been inflated by the presence of gold-carting adventurers. Reading this was elucidating for me, as I was always curious why a ten foot stick of wood cost a whopping 1 gold piece. (I still think that’s a little extreme)! Being aware of this underlying rationale behind the pricing methodology raises interesting possibilities in my mind of a campaign where prices start out at the much more reasonable ‘handfull of coppers,’ and only gradually do prices begin to rise as the players find greater and greater treasures, inflating whatever local economy they’re operating in.

Even if I never act on that idea (it would probably be a great deal of work for relatively little reward), it’s nice to gain a fuller understanding of why things are the way they are. This is the kind of flavor I wish was more present in Pathfinder.

Duties, Excises, Fees, Tariffs, Taxes, Tithes, and Tolls: Taxes in the game are an idea which have always intrigued me, but I’ve never seriously considered including them. Despite recognizing their worth as a drain on player resources and an impetus to adventure, I’ve never personally found that either of those things is really needed in my games. So I’ve seen no reason to add them. And with the multitude of taxes Gygax describes in this section, I think my players might revolt if I implemented them all. Though I don’t think Gygax actually intends for all to be used at once.

None the less, this subsection makes a compelling case. There are a lot of interesting ways the government might extract money from the player, which might encourage players to be a little more hungry for treasure just so they can maintain a posh style of living. Something as simple as a toll for entering a city, or a magistrate appearing and demanding back taxes on the player’s home, could make for an interesting game obstacle.

Monster Populations and Placement: Like many recent sections, I wish something like this were included in the D&D 3.5 DMG. Having read something like this, I think I would have been better prepared for running a world. As it stands, it took me some time before I determined that random charts of monsters ought to be populated with monsters relevant to an area, rather than forcing planned encounters or using completely random charts. In the past I’ve often made the mistake of assuming a monster population will always be refilled, rather than letting players gradually alter the environment around them by clearing monsters.

I also find it an interesting point of view that the players would see clearing an area of dangers to be a bad thing, because their opportunities for treasure are now lessened. “The frontier moves, and bold adventurers must move with it,” he writes.

Placement of Monetary Treasure: More solid advice on GMing which I wish I had encountered earlier in my GMing career. I particularly like the way Gary explains that part of the challenge of finding treasure is recognizing it when you see it. Anybody can grab a pile of coins or jewels or finely crafted jewelry, and haul it to the surface seeking a reward. But what of something less obvious? Fine clothes, a well crafted chair, or the history of a forgotten royal lineage. Taken together, these parts of the treasure horde may be worth even more than the gold and jewels.

Placement of Magic Items: While it is, ultimately, relevant to the placement of magic items, this section is mostly just a tirade about the dangers of adding too many magic items to a game. There’s some repetition of what was written in the section on placement of treasure as well. Really this section just comes off as unnecessary, or at least its placement is strange. Perhaps a section could have been added a page or so back titled “Balancing Treasure” which covered the issues of over and under rewarding your players, allowing this section to offer advice more specific to magic items.

Territory Development by Player Characters, AND Peasants, Serfs, and Slaves: Many years ago, when I was a wee game master looking for a D&D 3.5 group, I was very interested in the concept of strongholds. I thought this idea was fascinating, but it wasn’t really covered all that much in the D&D 3.5 core rulebooks. Looking for more information, I purchased the D&D 3.0 Stronghold Builder’s Guide. Upon reading it, however, I found myself disappointed. I couldn’t put my finger on why, because the book had a ton of information on building strongholds. Materials costs, and room types which could be purchased, and a litany of special options players could invest in while planning their headquarters. But none the less, I found the product lacking.

I haven’t thought about Strongholds much in the last few years. I still think they’re a wicked awesome thing to spend money on, but since I largely play low level campaigns, players have never really had the money necessary to build one. Now though, reading this section of the DMG, I recognize what the Stronghold Builder’s Guide was missing: challenge. The entire guide is all about how many options players have, and all the marvelous things they can do. But since there’s no obstacles in the way of accomplishing those goals (save the gold piece value for materials and labor) the entire creation feels ultimately meaningless.

It’s alot like another game I played as a youth: “Age of Empires 2: The Age of Kings.” It was a real time strategy game where the player was tasked with controlling villagers to expand and advance their medieval fiefdom, while using soldiers to defend it, or to assault the fiefdoms of others. The game provided me with many happy hours, but I always found it frustrating that I never had the time or the resources to construct a truly marvelous city, with double-deep walls, dozens of watch towers, etc. Occasionally, I would enter the game’s map editing mode and work on building my perfect city. Only to quickly grow bored of the task, and go back to playing the game. I didn’t realize it at the time, but the source of my boredom was that the task had no challenge, nor any meaningful reward. And thus all I was doing was creating a make-believe city with no purpose in mind.

These two subsections have given me an important insight into this area of the game.

Favorite Quotes from this Section

DUTIES, EXCISES, FEES, TARIFFS, TAXES, TITHES, AND TOLLS

What society can exist without revenues? What better means of assuring revenues than taxation, and all of the names used in the title of this section are synonymous with taxes–but if it is called something different perhaps the populace won’t take too much umbrage at having to pay and pay and pay…” -Gygax, DMG, Page 90

“But hold! This is not a signal to begin throwing heaps of treasure at players as if you were some mad Midas hating what he created by his touch.” -Gygax, DMG, Page 92

Page by Page: Gary Gygax’s DMG Part 9

This is the ninth installment of my continuing series on the 1979 Dungeon Master’s Guide, written by Gary Gygax. This post begins with the section “The Campaign” on page 86, and continues through “The Town and City Social Structure” on page 90. My purpose is not to review the DMG, but to go through it as a modern gamer, learning about the roots of Dungeons and Dragons, and making note when I see something surprising or interesting, or something which could be adapted for a modern game.

You can read all posts in this series under the Gary Gygax’s DMG tag.

The Campaign: I’ve read a fair share of sourcebooks at this point in my life, and I’ve never been fully satisfied with how the GMing information is presented. Whenever I read one, I imagine how I would interpret those instructions were I a new player again, learning to GM for the first time. There are always huge gaps in what the information should contain, and they never present a clear path between where to start, and how to develop your skills as you learn more. And while the DMG isn’t perfect in this regard, it certainly does better than most other sourcebooks I’ve read. I think page 87 may be my single favorite page in the entire book so far.

What stood out to me more than anything I did notice, is what I did not notice. No great emphasis was placed on the idea that the game could take any shape the GM could imagine. That was mentioned later, but the first four paragraphs of “The Campaign” provide the kind of straightforward advice I wish I had received when I was just starting out as a GM. This section in particular is golden:

“You are probably just learning, so take small steps at first. The milieu for initial adventures should be kept to a size commensurate with the needs of campaign participants–your available time as compared with the demands of the players. This will typically result in your giving them a brief background, placing them in a settlement, and stating that they should prepare themselves to find and explore the dungeon/ruin they know is nearby. As background you inform them that they are from some nearby place where they were apprentices learning their respective professions, that they met by chance in an inn or tavern and resolved to journey together to seek their fortunes in the dangerous environment, and that, beyond the knowledge common to the area (speech, alignments, races, and the like), they know nothing of the world.”

That, hands down, is the best introduction to being a game master that I’ve ever read in a sourcebook. Gygax knows that given infinite options, people will become confused about how to frame their options, and indecisive about which to choose. He provides straightforward advice for what your game should initially look like, and as the section goes forward he expands on that. The more time you spend as a dungeon master, the greater the demands on your creativity will be, and you’ll be forced to grow your knowledge and your campaign world at an organic pace. While this is happening, you’ll also be gaining valuable experience with the tools of your trade, and confidence in your own ideas. It doesn’t take long for a GM to realize they don’t need the game to tell them what their job is anymore.

What sourcebooks really need to provide is that first step, and the tools with which to build off of it. And the Dungeon Master’s Guide does this beautifully here.

Setting Things in Motion: Continuing in like fashion from the previous section, this may include the best description of how to run a town that I have ever read. Running towns and cities is a task I think I’ve always been my own worst enemy with. I get so focused on coming up with grand schemes for how to make the town work simply, that I never really considered how ultimately simple the entire process could be. And while I think I do a pretty good job of it, I also think I could be doing a lot better if I took a step back, set my elaborate plans aside, and adhered to this simple advice:

“Set up the hamlet or village where the action will commence with the player characters entering and interacting with the local population. Place regular people, some “different” and unusual types, and a few non-player characters (NPCs) in the various dwellings and places of business. Note vital information particular to each. Stock the goods available to the players. When they arrive, you will be ready to take on the persona of the settlement as a whole, as well as that of each individual therein. Be dramatic, witty, stupid, dull, clever, dishonest, tricky, hostile, etc. as the situation demands. “

This passage is one I think I will study further, and create my own interpretation of.

Virtually everything you can imagine…: This isn’t a proper subsection, but rather a single quote. I thought about placing it in the “favorite quotes” bit, but I’d actually like to comment on it in greater depth. The emphasis is mine:

“OUtdoor adventures can be in a ruined city or a town which seems normal but is under a curse, or virtually anything which you can imagine and then develop into a playable situation for your campaign participants.

That point in bold is one of the most overlooked elements in gaming today. It’s why GMs railroad their players, and why video games are plagued by endless cutscenes. We are repeatedly inundated with this idea that the game is the GM’s canvas. Anything they imagine can become a reality. And yes, I would grant (in opposition to Gygax) that the GM can be an artist. But being an artist doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want and call it good. An artist must be mindful of their medium. As a writer, I can’t expect to insert a soundtrack into my fiction. And as a GM, I can’t expect anyone to give a shit about my unplayable game. Not even if I imagined it really, really hard.

Climate and Ecology: There’s some definitely solid information in here, though nothing I would call stellar. Then again, one of my players is an ecologist in training, and another is an ecological enthusiast, so perhaps I’m just used to taking this stuff into consideration already!

Social Class and Rank in Advanced Dungeons and Dragons:  You know, I’ve never actually given serious consideration to social standing in my D&D games. Players have always just been ‘adventurers,’ and the nobility is generally either standoffish or open minded. Including social standing in my games has never really struck me as enticing, but after reading through this subsection I can definitely see the attraction. I don’t have a great deal to say about Gygax’ particular thoughts, since I have little experience of my own to draw upon in this area. But you can bet I’ll be experimenting.

Favorite Quotes from this Section

“It is no exaggeration to state that the fantasy world builds itself, almost as if the milieu actually takes on a life and reality of its own. This is not to say that an occult power takes over. It is simply that the interaction of judge and players shapes the bare bones of the initial creation into something far larger. ” -Gygax, DMG, Page 87

“My own GREYHAWK campaign, for example, assumes all player characters (unless I personally place one who is otherwise) are freemen or gentlemen, or at worst they can safely represent themselves to be so. (Note that the masculine/human usage is generic; I do not like the terms freecreatures or gentlebeings!)” -Gygax, DMG, Page 88

Page by Page: Gary Gygax's DMG Part 8

This is the eighth installment of my continuing series on the 1979 Dungeon Master’s Guide, written by Gary Gygax. This post begins with the section “Saving Throw Matrix for Monsters” on page 79, and continues through “Gaining Experience Levels” on page 86. It’s been several months since the previous installment of this series, so I will reiterate: my purpose is not to review the DMG. It would be arrogant of me to think I could make a meaningful assessment of this book’s quality. I am merely going through it as a modern gamer, learning about the roots of Dungeons and Dragons, and making note when I see something surprising or interesting, or something which could be adapted for a modern game.

You can read all posts in this series under the Gary Gygax’s DMG tag.

Saving Throws: Ultimately there’s not a lot of new or surprising information in this section. It merely details why the saving throw exists, explains how it functions in the game world, and provides advice on how the GM should implement saving throws within the game. This section highlights something I’ve found I really love about Gygax’s style of writing. The way he communicates the game’s rules. In Pathfinder, the saving throw mechanic receives only a few paragraphs on page 180, which barely cover the mechanical necessities of how a saving throw functions, along with a brief description of what each of Pathfinder’s three saving throws are used for.

Here, Gygax devotes perhaps three or four times the amount of space that Paizo allotted to describe the concept of a saving throw. He addresses criticisms of the concept, and explains exactly what a saving throw means within game terms. This is a huge criticism I have of D&D 3.X. Not enough attention is given to educating the GM, and teaching them to think diagetically about their game. Instead, 3.X stressed what is commonly called “System Mastery” – a comprehensive knowledge of the rules. While in fact, I think understanding the spirit of the game is far more important to being a good game master.

Hit Points: This section strikes me as a little strange, since much of it just retreads information which appeared earlier in the DMG. However, I like that Gary addresses this issue:

It is quite unreasonable to assume that as a character gains levels of ability in his or her class that a corresponding gain in actual ability to sustain physical damage takes place. It is preposterous to state such an assumption, for if we are to assume that a man is killed by a sword thrust which does 4 hit points of damage, we must similarly assume that a hero could, on average, withstand five such thrusts before being slain! Why then the increase in hit points?

That discussion could easily have been moved earlier in the book, and saved some space. But I’m none the less happy he acknowledged this.

Effects of Alcohol and Drugs: I had one takeaway from this section: get your hirelings drunk. Sure they’ll take penalties to their ability scores and attack dice, but bonuses to hit points, bravery, and morale are worth it. It makes perfect sense, and I can’t believe I never considered it before. It’s particularly effective if you just get hour hirelings buzzed without letting them get drunk, because they won’t take penalties on anything you care about. Who actually wants hirelings with high wisdom in the first place?!

I’d be curious to learn if this has any historical support, like generals giving their men a round of beer before a battle. I’m sure that’s happened a few times, but was it effective?

Insanity: These are respectably game-able, but they’re not particularly inspired. None the less, it’s good that they’re included, and it’s good that they’re grounded in reality rather than being completely fantastical. I much prefer the type of fantasy world where characters suffer from Melancholia, rather than something ridiculous like “Devilbrain.”

Division of Experience Points: I was very interested to read that 1st edition AD&D actually had a primitive, clunky version of the “Challenge Rating” system found in D&D 3.x, and perfected in Pathfinder. The amount of math involved in this process is ridiculous. I don’t see how anyone could compare it favorably to challenge ratings as seen in Pathfinder, or even as seen in 3rd edition. Personally I’m not fond of any of these, as they all complicate the process of converting player achievement into experience rewards. None the less, Pathfinder is far superior in this regard.

Experience Value of Treasure Taken: Holy shit this is way too complicated. I am glad that people I know who base experience gain off of treasure stick with a simple 1gp = 1xp model. This rule would suggest that a 1 to 1 exchange should only be used if the treasure was appropriately difficult for the adventurers to recover. If the treasure is too easy to get, Gygax recommends “5 g.p. to 4 x.p., 3 to 2, 2 to 1, 3 to 1, or even 4 or more to 1.”

On a single dungeon run, players are likely to acquire gold from numerous sources, each of which may be more or less difficult for them. Using this methodology, the GM would need to note each acquisition of treasure separately, and the ‘exchange rate’ beside it. Combined with the ridiculously complex rules for calculating experience points from monsters, and you almost need to hire an accountant to ensure you’re awarding XP properly!

Special Bonus Award to Experience Points: This started out sounding very reasonable . Of course if you’re running a mid or high level game you’re going to want to give your low level players some way to catch up to their higher leveled counterparts. I never really expected Gygax to recommend XP for dying and being resurrected, though. That strikes me as extremely odd. Particularly considering that resurrection most commonly comes with an XP penalty.

Gaining Experience Levels: It seems as though I’m finding a lot to dislike today, and I’m afraid this is no exception. Here, Gygax suggests that the GM should monitor their player’s role playing, and grade them based on whether or not they stuck to their alignment, and acted in keeping with their character class. I find this strange. Stranger still is the idea that gaining new levels is not something which a character is entitled to upon gaining sufficient experience. Rather, it is suggested that characters gain new levels at the GM’s discretion, and that they should be made to wait an appropriate amount of time (based on their role playing ‘grade,’) before they are allowed to move up.

Sometimes, Gary, I just don’t know what to think.

Favorite Quotes from this Section

“These adventures become the twice-told tales and legends of the campaing. The fame (or infamy) of certain characters gives lustre to the campaign and enjoyment to player and DM alike as the parts grow and are entwined to become a fantastic history of a never-was world where all of us would wish to live if we could.” -Gygax, DMG, Page 80

Page by Page: Gary Gygax’s DMG Part 7

Wow, it’s been almost two months since I updated the Page by Page series! I’d like to apologize to those who have been following this one. I really let it get away from me without noticing. This is the seventh installment of my continuing series on the 1979 Dungeon Master’s Guide, written by Gary Gygax. This post begins with the section “Special Types of Attacks” on page 70, and continues to the end of page 79.

To recap:  This is not a review of the DMG. I am not attempting to evaluate its quality, nor the quality of the AD&D system. I am merely going through the book as a modern gamer, learning about the roots of RPGs, and making note when I see something surprising or interesting, or something which could be adapted for modern games.

Attacks With Two Weapons: I found this a little odd. “Characters normally using a single weapon may choose to use one in each hand (possibly discarding the option of using a shield).” The way I read that, it sounds as though characters who choose to dual wield might need to give up using their shield, but might not. Would they somehow wield two swords and a shield at the same time?

I’m not entirely sure what Gygax meant by this, but I find the imagery amusing. Perhaps he was making allowances for forearm mounted bucklers which don’t cover the wielder’s hands? Those existed, right?

Breaking Off From Melee: Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat? Attacks of opportunity? In my first edition? Apparently it’s more likely than I thought! I realize this isn’t exactly as comprehensive as the AoO in 3.x/Pathfinder, but it functions in much the same way. For so long I’ve heard old-school players complain that attacks of opportunity are part of the needless complication of the modern game’s battle system. And yet here I find pretty much exactly that. How curious!

Monk’s Open Hand Melee: I like this idea a great deal: a monk’s unarmed damage is only really functional against human sized, human-weight opponents. It recognizes the limitations of the human body, thus preventing monks from becoming wholly supernatural beings as they are in Pathfinder. Unfortunately, the way this limitation is notated is awful. Listing a max height and weight in the first place is too much work for the GM. I much prefer the kind of size categories seen in Pathfinder. And then, on top of that, to have the max height and weight increase incrementally at each level, two inches by two inches, is just obscene in my humble opinion. What is the difference between a 6’6″ humanoid and a 6’8″ humanoid?

I do quite like that undead who cause negative effects by touching their foes will inflict that effect on a monk who punches them. Gary seems to have envisioned the monk as a very interesting, but still grounded class. Using your fists as weapons has advantages, but there’s no attempt to make a monk’s fists as effective as a sword could be in the name of balance.

Actions During Combat And Similar Time-Important Situations: There’s a lot that I dislike about this section. I can understand and enjoy a game where the GM curtails excessive strategist by having events move forward around the players. Brendan frequently does this in our weekly OD&D game, and it keeps us from getting off track. It also adds a sense that the game is happening in real time, which is fun. Here, though, Gygax seems to recommend penalizing even slight hesitations on the player’s part. As a player, I try not to waste anyone’s time. But sometimes I need a moment to decide what I want to do on my turn, and I’d prefer not to be pressured into acting immediately.

But really, that’s just a nitpick compared to this passage:

In a similar vein, some players will state that they are going to do several actions, which, if allowed, would be likely to occupy their time for many rounds. For example: “I’ll hurl oil at the monster, ignite it, drink my potion of invisibility, sneak up behind it, and then stab it in the back!” How ambitious indeed. Where is the oil? In a pouch, of course, so that will take at least 1, possibly 2 segments to locate and hurl. If the potion is in the character’s back pack, 3 or 4 segments will be taken up just finding it, and another 1 segment will be required to consume its contents. (See Drinking Potions.) Now comes the tricky part, sneaking up. Assuming that the potion has taken effect, and that our dauntless character has managed to transfer his or her weapon back to his or her hand (for certainly all the other activity required the character to at least put the weapon in the off hand), he or she is now ready to creep around the fringe of the combat and steal up behind the foe to smite it in the back. If the space is not too crowded (remember, his or her friends can’t see the invisible character either) and the monster not too far away, the time should only amount to about a round or so. Therefore, the character’s actions will fill something over two complete rounds.

As DM, simply note these actions, and begin them accordingly. Then, when the player starts to give instructions about additional activity, simply remind him or her that he or she is already engaged in the former course, and that you will tell him or her when that is finished and new instructions are in order.”

No. I’m sorry, Gary. I love you, but that’s dickish GMing. To simplify the advice being given here: sometimes players will not understand the limitations of an action. If that happens, act as though they can do what they said they want to do, then pull the rug out from under them on their next turn.

Perhaps I’m misunderstanding what is being prescribed here. Maybe all Gary is saying is that the GM should be prepared to enact a player’s plans over the course of multiple rounds. If that’s the case, it’s a little bit odd, but whatever. Perhaps I don’t have a sufficient understanding of how combat works in AD&D. But this just doesn’t come off as good advice to me.

Example of Melee: For some reason, this is way more interesting to follow than any of the play examples I’ve read in modern books. Go figure.

Non-Lethal and Weaponless Combat Procedures: I like the idea that attacking players and defending players each get to roll a secret die, and then choose whether they’d like to apply it as a bonus/penalty to the “to hit” roll, or if they’d like to apply it as a bonus/penalty to the “damage” roll. That makes good sense to me as part of brawling combat. When somebody is kicking you in the balls, you can either bring your leg up to block it, or you can cup your hands over your balls and hope for the best.

Though, may I just say, this is more complicated as the grappling system in D&D 3rd edition. That system got a lot of grief, and rightfully so, for being obtuse and difficult to remember. But There are nearly two full pages about grappling here. None of this looks any easier or more enlightened than the mess which was 3rd edition grappling.

Thank goodness for Pathfinder’s combat maneuvers!

Combat Tables: Tables, tables, tables, tables, tables, tables, tables. On and on, from page seventy four through page seventy nine, filled with matrices to determine how difficult something is to hit.

I don’t like excessive matrices. They just strike me as poor design.

Page by Page: Gary Gygax's DMG Part 6

This is the sixth installment of my continuing series on the 1979 Dungeon Master’s Guide, written by Gary Gygax. This post begins with the section “Combat” on page 61, and continues through “Special Types of Attacks” on page 70

Encounters, Combat, and Initiative: Here is the first place where Gygax brings up the fact that AD&D uses a 1 minute round. This has been discussed in the comments section of previous Page by Page posts, but I think it deserves a proper mention here. To his credit, Gygax writes a lengthy explanation and defense of the one minute round. He makes a few very compelling points about the importance of abstraction, and how more granular combat is inappropriate in a game which does not focus on combat. As a sabre fencer myself, I can appreciate the fact that it would be impossible to really represent swordplay in the tabletop RPG format. None the less, I view the 6 second round as a major improvement. I simply think the game becomes more engaging when the players have more granular control on what happens in combat. I wouldn’t really argue that one method is inherently better than the other, it’s a stylistic preference.

Gygax also explains exactly what hit points are meant to represent in this section. If I’d had this quote on hand in the past, I would have been able to settle a lot of silly arguments:

“Damage scored to characters or certain monsters is actually not substantially physical–a mere nick or scratch until the last handful of hit points are considered–it is a matter of wearing away the endurance, the luck, the magical protections.”

Initiative: I like the fact that Initiative is only rolled if there is no element of surprise to consider. I do not like the idea that initiative is recalculated each round. There seems to be an excessive amount of computation involved in determining the order of combat. This excess becomes even more prevalent later in this reading.

Morale: I thought I had mentioned this before, but apparently I have not: morale is a good idea. I don’t understand why developers decided to cut the morale mechanic out of the game. These days, most enemies simply fight to the death, which is not only silly, but harmful. If the monsters never run away, then players will never realize that running away is an entirely valid strategy for survival.

Encounter Reactions: I’ve never liked rolling for reactions, but that may be because I’ve never liked entirely random environments. Which isn’t to say I don’t have a healthy respect for the role of random generation in RPGs. It is not only useful, but essential. However, I prefer a kind of directed randomness. When I roll for a random monster, I’m rolling on a list of monsters for which I have already created worldviews, and reasons for being in the area. My players have repeatedly told us they appreciate this, because it means that random encounters are not meaningless encounters. Every random encounter tells them more about the world around them, and could potentially lead to adventure.

Missile Discharge: I had never considered before that a missile (such as an arrow) might be destroyed by a spell (such as a fireball). The concept is fascinating, and I’m curious to give it a try. I’m also somewhat wary of it, however. The player firing an arrow into a group of enemies is already having less of an impact than the guy casting a fireball into that same group. It seems mean to make the two mutually exclusive.

Also in this section, I gained a new appreciation for the modern rules of firing into a melee. These rules are ridiculously convoluted.

Missile Fire Cover and Concealment Adjustments: In an amusing turnaround, I think the cover and concealment mechanics are actually more simple than they are in modern games. A flat boost to AC rather than an extra d% roll to determine miss chance.

Grenade-Like Missiles: I find it a little terrifying that Gygax thought such complex rules were necessary. I’ve always handled grenade-like missiles using a very simple system. They have a range increment of 10ft and use a ranged touch attack. Standard damage is dealt to anyone hit by them, and splash damage is dealt to anyone in an adjacent space. If you miss, roll 1d6 (for hexes) or 1d8 (for squares) to determine which direction the object landed in, and roll 1d4 to determine the total number of spaces away from the intended target it landed.

Spell Casting During Melee: I love this idea. I’ve written in the past (twice, actually) about ways to nerf the wizard without losing any of its flavor, and the rules presented here seem like a great method for partially accomplishing that goal. An AD&D a spellcaster cannot crouch or lie prone while casting any spell that includes somatic components, and loses their dexterity bonus to their AC while casting such a spell. If they are attacked or jostled while casting a spell, that spell fails and is expended for the day. No concentration check, no nothing. There’s nothing wrong with wizards wielding powers vastly beyond the abilities of a fighter or rogue, so long as the fighter and rogue are still needed to keep the caster alive while they cast.

It’s also sounds like most AD&D spells have much longer casting times than Pathfinder spells do. Not only would implementing that as a house rule improve game balance, but it would lend spells a sense of gravitas.

Turning Undead: There are some really interesting concepts here. First, I love the idea that a cleric can only continue to turn undead until he fails once. You might say that if a cleric fails to turn undead, it’s because his faith faltered for a moment. And upon seeing the undead continue undaunted by his god’s power, the cleric’s faith in that power is broken until they have a chance to rest and pray. I also like that more powerful undead ‘shield’ less powerful undead from being turned. If a cleric encounters a vampire and five zombies, they must turn the vampire in order to attempt turning the zombies.

Counter-Affecting: I very much would like to see a good and an evil cleric fighting for control of a group of undead. That sounds awesome.

Closing to Striking Range: Perhaps I’m failing to understand something. I haven’t read the AD&D player’s handbook, so I lack a basis which many of these sections assume I have. However, it sounds like you cannot close to striking range, and strike, in the same turn. Why ever not? That just seems silly.

Weapon Speed Factor/Other Weapon Factor Determinants: The more I read about the AD&D combat round, the more it seems like a jumbled mess to me. Again, perhaps this is because I lack information found in the PHB. But figuring out who gets what actions in each round, and then determining which actions occur simultaneously with other actions, is enough to make my eyes glaze over. That doesn’t happen very often! I love reading about mechanics. But halfway through Gygax’s example about a fighter using a sword and a magic user casting a fireball, I realized I simply did not care.

At this point my view is that AD&D combat is filled with interesting ideas which could be useful in a modern game, but that modern combat is still an overall improvement. That may change once I have an opportunity to actually see these rules in action.

Pursuit and Evasion of Pursuit: This is a good, simple breakdown of pursuit rules. I wouldn’t call it great, but it actually answers a lot of questions I’ve had (and heard) about how to run a chase scene well. I’m convinced it can be done better, but I don’t have any real ideas on how that could be accomplished.

I do really like how the GM is not supposed to provide fleeing characters with enough information to create a map. So the cost of running away from a monster is being lost in a dungeon.

Number of Opponents Per Figure: I find it highly amusing that AD&D is noted for functioning without a battlemat, but still needs to utilize squares and hexes to determine how many monsters can attack a single character at a given time.

Page by Page: Gary Gygax's DMG Part 5

This is the fifth installment of my continuing series on the 1979 Dungeon Master’s Guide, written by Gary Gygax. This post begins with the section “Travel in the Known Planes of Existence” on page 57, and continues through “Listening At Doors” on page 60.

Travel In The Known Planes of Existence As I’ve mentioned in the recent past, I’ve always been fascinated by planar adventures. There’s something about the idea of traveling not only to other worlds, but to places where even basic physical realities are different. It gets my adventurous spirit going. But no matter how fundamentally different they are, I always picture the various planes of existence as still fitting within the game’s setting. And while Gygax makes allowances for that as well, much of this section is about using planar travel as an excuse to visit completely different game systems. As in sending D&D characters to his “Boot Hill” wild west game. I was aware that he, as a GM, did that sort of thing. But I find it a little odd to see it right here in the DMG. I honestly can’t imagine doing things that way. If my players and I wanted to play a different game, I think we’d just put our D&D characters aside and play a different game.

I once read a post from Trollsmyth which might explain that, though I can’t find it for the life of me. It was about a cultural shift in the tabletop gaming community. According to him, in the old days players tended to stick with a single game for the long term, while now-a-days players often switch between campaigns and game systems at a rapid pace. That might explain why Gary thought it was important for GMs to know they could send their players to other game systems, whereas I (as a whippersnapper) view the concept as silly.

Outdoor Movement I am both surprised and disappointed that nothing here is really news to me. I guess it might be because I’ve already devoted a lot of time to reading, thinking, and even writing about this subject. I’m still not satisfied with how it works in my games, though, so I was hoping this would be one of those passages filled with Gygaxian genius. Oh well.

Infravision & Ultravision It’s pretty cool to have a detailed explanation of how Infravision works, though it seems like basic 60′ Infravision wouldn’t be all that useful. I mean, it’s a nice trick to have up your sleeve, but it wouldn’t let you function normally in the dark the way I would normally imagine. You’d be tripping over things on the floor constantly. 90′ Infravision is much closer to what one would normally think of, and I like that it is used to explain creatures with glowing red eyes. (The eyes are emitting infared radiation, and seeing via the radiation’s reflection).

Ultravision’s explanation is a little less detailed and clear. I wonder if the Player’s Handbook gives more detail on when this would be useful.

Invisibility This section, I think, stands well in contrast to many modern discussions about game-changing spells. Spells such as Fly and Invisibility which produce a lot of argument because they allow players to completely bypass obstacles. My position on these problems has always been that a GM should understand the spell’s limitations, and design better obstacles. Some others prefer to see these spells reduced in power, or removed from the game.

Gygax’s solution is to write six paragraphs and a table into the DMG which outline all the ways in which invisibility can fail in its intended purpose. Maybe the monster can smell you, or hear you, or maybe two players will run into one another while attempting to maneuver invisibly. It’s really quite clever.

Mirrors …What?

“It is important for DMs to remember that in order to be reflective, a mirror must have a light source.” -Gygax, DMG, Page 60. Apropos of nothing.

Why does this section exist? That’s all it says. Right between “Invisibility” and “Detection of Evil And/Or Good,” Gygax decided to include a little section about how mirrors work. I suppose I can see how this would be useful to remember, but it seems really random.

Detection of Evil And/Or Good I love how many of the sections in this book are obviously written from Gygax personal experience with players who try to take advantage of the rules. This is an example of that, where he points out that “Detect Evil” can’t be use to find traps or poisons. I don’t think there’s any point in my GMing career when I would have allowed a player to do that, but obviously some players have tried.

Listening at Doors I’m kind of surprised to learn that Gary Gygax included a listen check in his game. The way the entire OSR community hates perception checks, it’s kinda surprising to see the equivalent of one in this, the holy grail of the OSR. Now I realize nobody views Gary Gygax as infallible; he just got a lot of things right. I just never expected to see something like a listen check in this book.

And to be fair, he only includes it for when active listening attempts are made, which makes good sense I think. Thought his percentages are preposterously low. If there’s a dozen orcs in the next room, and an elf presses his ear to a wooden door, then I’d say there’s a 100% chance that elf is going to hear something. Gygax gives the elf a measly 15% chance.

Hearing Noise This is absolutely brilliant, so I’m going to include it in its entirety:

“When a die roll indicates a noise has been heard, tell the player whose character was listening that he or she heard a clink, footstep, murmuring voices, slithering, laughter, or whatever is appropriate. (Of course, some of these noises will be magical, e.g., audible glamer spells, not anything which will be encountered at all!) Be imprecise and give only vague hints; never say, “You hear ogres,” but “You hear rumbling, voice-like sounds.” Failure to hear any noise can be due to the fact that nothing which will make noise is beyond the portal, or it might be due to a bad (for the listener) die roll. Always roll the die, even if you know nothing can be heard. Always appear disintersted regardless of the situation.” -Gygax, DMG, Pg 60

Remember a week ago when I posted a long whiny list of things I want in a tabletop RPG? The above passage is exactly what I meant when I wrote:

“I want a game which explains not just the rules of the system, but the spirit which those rules support. One which explains why rules exist, and how certain mechanics improve play. I want a game which helps Game Masters make the leap from learning rules, to running a campaign.”

Why is this kind of thing so hard for modern RPGs to do?

Favorite Quotes from this Section

“”Now I’ll sneak up on the monster invisibly!” How often has this cry rung forth from eager players in your campaign? How often have you cursed because of it? Never fear, there are many answers to the problem of invisibility…” -Gygax, DMG, Pg 59