P is for Profundity

[over the course of the month of April, I shall be posting a topic for each letter of the alphabet, sequentially, every day of the week except Sunday. Our topic for the month is Advanced Dungeons & Dragons: how to approach it, how to run it, how to enjoy a system that deserves to be played NOW, nearly 50 years after its inception. Consider this a 'crash course' in the subject]

P is for Profundity...the profoundness of the AD&D game.

It should be fairly obvious to long-time readers of this blog that I'm a pretty passionate guy, especially when it comes to D&D and (these days) particularly when it comes to the Advanced version of the game. If it's not, please allow me to be clear: I am passionate about the AD&D game. If my more than 2000 blog posts on the subject over the last eighteen years isn't evidence of the energy the game instills in me...well, I'm not sure what more you need. Another book or two, probably.

[still hopeful for those projects]

But while D&D generally (and AD&D specifically) has had a profound impact on my life and attitude, can I really say the game is profound? Again, let's be clear about what I mean; the M-W definition of profundity is:

1. Great depth. 2. Depth of intellect, feeling, or meaning. 3. Something profound or abstruse.

[and for the sake of completeness that 3rd definition is referring to something "beyond the obvious or superficial" and "not entirely understood"]

Certainly, in some ways, AD&D meets the terms of the definition. It is clearly a "deeper" game than other editions of the game (such as B/X) and offers more "depth" of game play than many other games that might be played around the kitchen table. As well, I'd say it most definitely has "hidden depths" that are only revealed over the long-term...one of the major reasons I'm such am advocate for long-form campaign play.  

However, while the game may inspire depths of feeling and intellectual exercise, would I call the game particularly deep, in and of itself? 

I would not. It is still just a game...and a fairly simple game when it comes to game play, despite the radical way in which it departs from other prior games. The DM creates a scenario and describes it to the players. The players describe their behavior in relation to the situation. Dice are rolled as/when necessary and resolutions are tallied...often literally in terms of the "points" of the game (x.p., g.p., h.p., etc.). That is all there is to it.

And at this point, I'm sure readers are asking "what does any of this have to do with the theme of this particular series?" Please, allow me to explain by quoting from my introduction:

Our topic for the month is Advanced Dungeons & Dragons: how to approach it, how to run it...

This post relates to the proper approach to running AD&D.

AD&D is a profoundly affecting game, one that tends to inspire passion in others...I am not the first person to gush enthusiastically about it. And yet we passionate AD&Ders...both DMs and players...often assign it more seriousness and depth than the game warrants or, indeed, benefits from. AD&D is not an altar to be worshipped at, and we DMs are not its high priests. It is still just a game to be run, no matter how high a regard we might hold it in. 

Understand that I am writing this from my own experience of 40+ years of gaming. There have been PLENTY of times over the decades that I took the game too seriously, in which my approach to running the game was as one would something sacred. Doing this creates a myriad of problems, all of which are detrimental to the actual running of the game.Briefly they are the following:

1. There is the tendency to over-analyze, over-think, and (Lord knows) over-story your campaign, leading to an actual stoppage in game design due to "analysis paralysis" and the vain seeking after "perfection." Since the latter is never obtainable, it can likewise lead to depression and disenchantment, ennui and (eventually) the chucking of one's campaign altogether. 
2. There is a tendency to curtail the agency of players and to subvert the game design, in attempt to mold play into something that is "more worthy" or creates "more meaning." This will eventually lead to resentment and disenchantment from the players and a breakdown in the game systems that will derail the entirety of the game...either one of which situations can (again) lead to depression, disenchantment, ennui and the binning of your campaign.

You laugh, I'm sure. JB, you just wrote how we can't take the game too seriously! And, yet, here you are talking about worrying that this will lead to the trashing of your campaign...isn't worrying about THAT the same thing as "taking the game too seriously?"

No.

AD&D is designed to be played over the long-term. The campaign is the vehicle for long-term play. World creation (which includes adventure/situation design) is the way the DM interacts with the campaign; the "character" is the player's vehicle for interacting with it. Ending your campaign is ENDING PLAY. No campaign, no play. Do you want your play to end? I don't...I'm pretty into playing the game.

Just one of the (several) reasons my campaign is PERPETUAL these days.

In order to explore the true "depths" of the AD&D game, you must have a campaign. You start it and then you run it, you build on it, you grow it. Like a master gardener, pruning here, grafting there, and providing plenty of fertilizer. You don't rip it up and start over ever few weeks or months. It is a constant work in progress, something you take satisfaction in, something you enjoy and share with others...the fruits of your labor.

Every time you end a campaign, you are starting from scratch. You are doing the OPPOSITE of "putting down roots;" you are ripping up whatever roots have grown. Instead of cultivating your garden, you are burning it down and salting the earth. 

But perhaps you're only interested in a window box. And, maybe, dumping it out and re-starting it every season gives you all that you're interested in: a constant rotation of different veggies in an easily managed space. Not everyone is a master gardener, after all. And, perhaps, not every Dungeon Master has the taste for the kind of work I'm describing here...work that takes time and endurance.

When I say the game isn't "profound," I mean it. It is a simple game, easily explained, easy to participate in. It is not meant to be worshipped or held on a pedestal. And while every DM should have self-respect...respect for their campaign, for their work (which, by the way, is only possible when one respects the game)...that doesn't mean the DM has any delusions of profundity for AD&D.

Respect for the game and approaching the game in a deliberate, serious fashion does NOT mean considering it to be something more than it is. The participants are playing a game of fantasy adventure. They are not curing cancer. They are not writing "the Great American Novel." They are having fun. Mistakes will be made...these are easily corrected (and sometimes ignored). Jokes will be made...my tables are often full of snark and wisecracks from the players. It's not an uncommon phenomenon to make nervous jokes when you believe death may lurk around any corner.

And I don't pull punches.

No. AD&D is not a "profound" game, except (perhaps) in relation to other games. But it can have a profound impact on those who play it. I can say this is true for myself, and I've read many anecdotes from others for whom this was the case (Sherman Alexie penned a rather touching tribute to the game in the 2004 retrospective 30 Years of Adventure...and he's not the only one). But there's a difference between respecting the game and running it in serious fashion and worshipping the thing or formulating attachments and meaning where none are required, or even wanted.  And, unfortunately, when you spend a lot of time with something you love this much it is EASY to fall down that rabbit hole. 

"Touch grass" might apply here, despite the game's analog nature.

We sit at a table with our fellow humans: hopefully friends but, at least, potential friends. We each have our role to play, whether it is "Player" or "Dungeon Master." The DM describes the situation; the players describe their actions. Dice are rolled. The game is played. And by the end, when the books and dice are put away and we stand up from the table, hopefully we will have enjoyed ourselves such that we will want to gather again, on a future occasion, and play once more. 

That is as "profound" as D&D play gets.  And, yet, there is so much more there...so much of the experience that is more than what people can find in other arenas of life. Just because it lacks profound, deep meaning, doesn't mean that the game's not worth playing.  Quite the opposite, in fact.

That's all for today.

O is for Originality

[over the course of the month of April, my plan was to post a topic for each letter of the alphabet, sequentially, every day of the week except Sunday. While I was unable to complete the project on time, I find I still have things to say. Our topic in question is Advanced Dungeons & Dragons: how to approach it, how to run it, how to enjoy a system that deserves to be played NOW, nearly 50 years after its inception. Consider this a 'crash course' in the subject]

O is for Originality...something that is overrated within the so-called "Old School" community.

Not that this series is meant to slam the (mostly commercial) venture that is the OSR these days. But many of the new DMs coming to the AD&D game these days...or even old DMs returning to AD&D after decades of hiatus...are doing so by way of the Old School Revival that's rumbled along these last 17+ years. And in the commercial offerings that carry the "OSR" branding...specifically the for-purchase, pre-written adventure modules (of the kind that new and/or rusty DMs lean on to both inspire themselves and polish their chops), you find a particular type of pathology on display: the urgent need to add "original content" that never was to their offerings.

As if the game didn't offer enough content already.

I write quite a lot of adventures for use at my own table (both for my home campaign and for gaming conventions I attend). And when it comes to designing adventures, especially for convention play, I do not include "original content;" that is, I do not create "new, original" monsters, or magic items, or spells. Oh, you'll see some adventures I've penned for various writing contests that include one or two of these things (because they are elements of the contest), but these adventures don't see actual running at my table except when/if "play-testing." For my own campaign...and when demonstrating AD&D at cons...my adventures don't include anything you wouldn't normally find in the books...for a number of reasons:

1. The content already included in the books is (for the most part) tried and true and already tested within and against the (long-tested) rules of the game.
2. There is more content in the books than I have ever used in totality...which is to say, I've yet to use EVERY monster, or EVERY magic item, or EVERY magic spell over my 40+ years of gaming.
3. For purposes of playing (and "mastering") a game, players need a consistent structure within which to learn and hone their skills, not a rug that gets pulled out from under them with every new dungeon. As I wrote earlier, I am all for metagaming as it IMPROVES player engagement.

Thus, I have no need or desire for adding "original content" to my games...in fact (as per reason #3), I find original content can be detrimental to one's campaign if used in a less-than-judicious fashion.

And it's really not needed! Again, I will make use of a metaphor suggested to me by a DM of far more experience and wisdom than myself: AD&D can be compared to a piano. Consider the ubiquitous piano with its 88 keys...the industry "standard" since 1890. How many people have studied and learned and composed music on a piano over the years, challenging themselves and entertaining others? And how many of them have attempted to add "more keys" to the piano to make the thing "more original?" How many have said, man, these 88 keys aren't enough...there's just not enough sound here to make a decent song!

The idea is ridiculous, as anyone with the slightest  passing interest in music might tell you. And, yet, how many DMs are unsatisfied with the content of the core D&D books? How many have said that the 350+ monsters in the Monster Manual or the 300+ magic items in the Dungeon Masters Guide or the 400+ spells in the Players Handbook are insufficient for their crafting of adventures? Are you kidding me?

There is a TON you can do with the "limited" amount of content in the books: writing an adventure is much like composing a piece of music on a piano. And just as a piece of piano music can be played differently by different musicians (softly, loudly, quickly, slowly, jazzy, or arranged with other instruments, or whatever), a single adventure can be "interpreted" differently by different DMs...or run differently by the same DM on different occasions depending on the players involved.

Orcs aren't "boring." YOU are boring. What is needed is NUANCE, not novelty. Situationally, there are as many different ways to use orcs in your game as there are to use humans...these are intelligent (if imaginary) creatures after all. Consider all the way humans can differ...not just in form or function, but culturally.  I know that many of my fellow American look at all Latin American people as one big mass of brown-skinned, Spanish-speaking people (I know this as I was once one of those Americans) but it is so, so not the case. Even if you ignore the individual differences of individual Mexicans (for example), Mexicans are VERY different from Ecuadorians who are VERY different from Panamanians who are VERY different from Paraguayans who are VERY different from Brazilians who are VERY different from Argentinians or Chileans, etc., etc.. In fact, they are SO DIFFERENT from each other, that unless their country is right next to another they tend to know NOTHING about the differences they have...yeah they know the people there speak Spanish (and, perhaps, have a decent soccer team) but they are often completely ignorant when it comes to someone else's history, politics, customs, food, etc.

It's like the way MUCH of the western world thinks of Africa as one big, homogenous country with border lines drawn on it. There are THOUSANDS of different ethnic identities in Africa and wildly differing genetic diversity even amongst people who share the same color of skin. Would a westerner consider all white people to be one big group? Is a Dutchman really the same as a Sicilian? My Basque friends from Bilbao certainly don't consider themselves "Spanish" in any way, shape, or form. "Your Catalan is getting quite good" they tell me (in English). 

As an American I know there are huge differences of culture between our 50 States. Yes, there are plenty of similarities, but a Washingtonian is a LOT different from a Hawaiian or a Georgian or a New Yorker or a Texan. It's not just politics that divides my country: we are (and always have been) separated by regional and cultural identity, even if we've been united (for most of our history) by some rather singular and lofty ideals that...once upon a time...we all agreed on. But are we different? Do we vary? Hell yes! Even within my own State of Washington, there is a vast difference between the "island folk" of the San Juans and the hard drinking/snorting fisher folk and lumberjacks of the Olympic Peninsula and the multi-generational farmers of the Palouse and the military folks in Everett and the very complicated metro area that is Seattle. Seattle, itself, is large enough that different neighborhoods have their own cultural identity...we're not all elitist tech-savvy "Lib-tards." Far from it! I've lived here since I was born (in '73) and MOST of that time, Seattle was pretty darn "working class" and that's how a lot of us "long timers" still see ourselves. Besides, everyone knows the elitist, tech-money d-bags live in Bellevue.

[haha. I joke. Bellevue is full of wealthy Asians, duh]

The POINT is, just saying an orc is a 1 HD antagonist and that we need a blue-skinned version that explodes when you hit it or one that has feathered wings or an orc that shoots lasers from its eyes in order to "spice things up" is simply showing a profound LACK of imagination. And it's short-changing both your players (who are trying to master the system...something they can only do when there is consistency of application) and yourself (as a designer and Dungeon Master).  What? Are you afraid that if you start "humanizing" orcs (or goblins or lizard folk or giants, etc.) by giving them nuance and ethnical variety that you're going to somehow turn them into something the players don't want to kill and then there goes the game? Have you not noticed how many different motivations, excuses, and justifications humans have found to kill each other over the centuries? My cup runneth over!

Yes, I am well familiar with the classic TSR modules of early days of AD&D and how the MAJORITY of them (pre-'85, i.e. "the good years") would include a new monster or two. I would just point out the following for consideration: A) you almost never see new magic items or spells, things which (in my estimation) have the highest potential for unbalancing or "breaking" the game, B) many times these new monsters are unique encounters and/or thematically linked to the adventure (i.e. not likely to show up elsewhere in a campaign), C) compared to the MAJORITY of the monsters in a 30-60+ encounter area, one or two new critters are a pittance, and D) you generally do NOT see these shenanigans in adventures designed for introductory, low-level play (no new monsters in B1, B2, N1, N2, etc.). Players have to learn the ropes before you start serving up curve balls!

SO...to bring this entry to a summation and close: it is NOT a mark of "creativity" or "good Dungeon Mastery" to be adding new, unique content to your game. Anyone can do that; the Fiend Folio is an entire book filled with new creatures created by a wide swath of designers (more than 70). Pursuing "originality" (in terms of content) as a goal in and of itself isn't the best use of your time and energy as an adventure designer. In my estimation, you'll get far more value out of finding ways to use that which is already present in ways that are unusual, challenging, surprising, and in ways both deeper and more nuanced. Engage your players through good system use, rather than novelty. 

AD&D campaigns can last a long time and you can get a lot of mileage out of it as written. However, when it comes to the vehicle's actual components, there's still a lot of tread left on the tires; no need to change them out so soon!

; )

N is for Newbies

[over the course of the month of April, my plan was to post a topic for each letter of the alphabet, sequentially, every day of the week except Sunday. While I was unable to complete the project on time, I find I still have things to say. Our topic in question is Advanced Dungeons & Dragons: how to approach it, how to run it, how to enjoy a system that deserves to be played NOW, nearly 50 years after its inception. Consider this a 'crash course' in the subject]

N is for Newbies...which is to say "new players." We love new players.

Once upon a time, it felt like the hardest thing just to find people who were interested in playing D&D...any kind of D&D. For the most part, that barrier no longer exists. Oh, it might not be possible for me to sling together six people at the drop of a hat for a game this weekend, BUT if you live in a community of most any size and have a ready means of reaching out to people (using, for example, the internet), and so long as you're willing to exercise a little patience, a committed DM can attract a table of enthusiasts in fairly short order. The phrase if you build it they will come has never been truer than at this moment in time.

I'm sure there are those who laugh at that whole paragraph...for multiple reasons. However, I assure you it's true, including about this being the "hardest bit" for me at one time. I have always been bad at marketing and (especially) self-promotion (I still am)...and in pre-internet days I was even worse. That I had any reputation at all in my local community says more about my weird-ness (mm..."unique-ness") than any talent for sales (I failed at all types of "sales opportunities" in my youth; I'm just not that kind of person).

And yet, somehow, I always seemed to be able to end up DMing or GMing games, even during the "lean years" of the 1990s. I have said it before and will say it again: players are easy to come by. People LOVE to play games. Their main barrier is having to do any kind of WORK including LEARNING STUFF.   I often (half-)joke that players are lazy as hell, but the truth is that the vast majority of us prefer things to be EASY...especially in a world that is so often difficult. It's why we tend to continue in the same job or vocation for years (often shaped by what our parents did or taught us), or why we persist in being the same religion or political persuasion with which we were raised, or enjoy the same hobbies and pastimes we have since we were kids. Learning new things takes time and effort, and the old adage about "teaching an old dog new tricks" is LESS about our ability to learn as we get older, and far more about our resistance to GIVE UP what comes so easy to us after years (or decades) of experience. Even after letting my vocal chops get rusty the last twenty-ish years, I can still mimic Geoff Tate on Revolution Calling or belt out Man In The Box note-for-note...but I can't play three chords on a guitar with any proficiency, or play anything more complex than "one-two-three-a-leary" on the piano (hell, I can't even play chopsticks). It's just "too hard"...and I have too many other things occupying my attention.

Here's the other great realization I've come to over the last couple decades: one of the main "turn-offs" for potential players was telling them D&D is a "hard" game...that it is a "hard game to learn." Because people, especially OLDER people (and by "older" I mean adults) generally don't have the time or inclination to learn new, hard things. Not unless it means more money in their bank account. This is why you don't see people picking up the guitar or a new sport or changing their religion or switching their vocation to something drastically different from what they've been doing. Unless they have had some crisis in their lives, something that's upended their world view. A brush with their own mortality (either a cancer scare or seeing a loved one die), for instance. Maybe a divorce or some sort of serious disillusionment with their profession or the proverbial "midlife crisis." Barring something of that nature, most people tend to "keep on keeping on" unless you're talking about small, not inconvenient, mostly "fun" modifications to their lifestyle.

The easiest way to get people to play D&D is to explain to them how EASY it is. 

And it IS easy...from the player's side. And if you're a longtime DM (like myself) who has a ton of extra dice and a spare PHB to occasionally loan out, the barrier to entry is even easier. Most of the stigma attached to D&D of being "too nerdy" or "satanic" has fallen away over the last 20 years. If you tell people it's a fun, easy game with zero barrier to entry (because YOU, the DM, will be providing the dice, books, adventure, and know-how), you'd be surprised at just how many people you'll find willing to give it a try. Assuming, of course, that you don't present yourself as someone too weird, nerdy, or satanic for a particular individual's taste.

And new players are GREAT because they come to the game without preconceived notions. I prefer kids under 16 or older adults (folks in their 40s+) who've never played because they're far less likely to have been influenced by what they've read or (more likely) watched on the internet. This is where you'll be able to cultivate real enthusiasm for the game because you can find people who enjoy fantasy and adventure and games, but who have NOT learned that D&D is about "telling stories" or that D&D requires performance ("acting in character") or substantial "creative collaboration" (writing backstories, working with other "performers"/players). These misconceptions are HARD THINGS for most people because most people have no background or experience in acting or story telling or creative collaboration. And...as I wrote above...people are NOT attracted to things that are hard (unless there is some money in it for them).  To cultivate such people as potential players, you have to first disabuse them of these notions...which is not (usually) an easy ask. Once people have an idea in their head, they are reluctant to let go of it without being presented with evidence (i.e. getting them to sit down and actually play). If it is a friend of yours, they might be willing to do so (if only to humor you, or on a 'one-off' basis)...but for a stranger or acquaintance with whom you have little or no connection? 

That's tough.

Still, it's possible. And I've found that if you can get people in the door (or, rather, at the table) and run a solid game of D&D for them, you'll find many of them will be "hooked" by the experience in the same way YOU once were (the standard origin story for vocational DMs). More often than not, you'll find you have a willing and able player whose main barrier to play is the one all enthusiasts face (including myself): time and priorities.  

[I love D&D immensely. I love my children more. Consequently, I don't play D&D as much as I'd like]

On the other hand having to introduce modern day D&D players to the joys of AD&D can be a rougher slog specifically because of the preconceived notions and baked-in expectations they've already experienced (and, for many, have learned to love). Not to be too harsh, but many of these folks might be a "lost cause," unless they've somehow become disenchanted with the current brand. And that's OK...as I said, there are still plenty of fish (er, players) in the sea. 

Only slightly easier...and in some ways more tricky...are the people who come to the game inexperienced but completely "bought in" to the idea of D&D as a performative art. These folks are enthusiastic about the game precisely because they want the experience of "playing pretend" and "collaborative story creation;" their enthusiasm for the fantasy adventure premise makes them happy and willing participants...participants who lack the shyness and inhibition a DM initially finds in many new players. However, their expectations of game play can be quickly dashed...possibly with severe disappointment...the first time their 'Original Character' dies ignominiously in some filthy subterranean cave or tomb.  For AD&D players, the struggle to overcome challenges (to survive and thrive in hostile fantasy world) brings immense satisfaction, and the experience of doing it with other players brings great joy and forges bonds of camaraderie.  But for the story-minded player, the experience of AD&D play does not always (nor often) synch up with the expectation of evolving a meaningful narrative. Creating a "meaningful narrative" is not the objective of AD&D play, and players who come to the table hoping for this outcome are unlikely to find what they seek.

Disabusing them of this notion is very much a matter of giving them the same explanation as you give ANY newbie...and hoping they can grok it. I give pretty much the same spiel to anyone who sits down at my table to play AD&D for the first time; it goes something like this:

"AD&D is a game of fantasy adventure. Each of you players will create [or "play" if running pre-gens, such as at a convention] a character with which you'll explore the imaginary world. I will be taking the part of the Dungeon Master; it is my job to referee the game and describe the imaginary world you are exploring via your character. Your characters are "adventurers:" people that go to dangerous places and face dangerous threats and monsters that the average person are unwilling or unable to face. You do this in hopes of obtaining fortune and fame; this is your job, it is how you get paid.  If you're successful at your job (meaning you survive dangers and find treasure) you will get better at your job...meaning you'll become more skilled, able to face GREATER danger in hopes of finding GREATER reward.  

"Your choice of character will determine what skills you bring to your adventuring party; each of you will contribute to the group's success. Working together, cooperating with each other, will give you your best chance of surviving and thriving. The fantasy world has many dangers and there are many ways for your character to die; however, even if your character dies, you can always make a new character."

That's about all the explanation I ever give as an introduction to new players of any stripe. When invariably asked the rules of the game, I explain that the mechanics will be explained (by me) as they come up in play; however, for the completely inexperienced newbie I always provide an overview of the following concepts:

• Class and "race" (species)
• Level (and experience points)
• Hit points
• Armor class
• Attack/damage rolls
• Saving throws

Ability scores are explained during the character creation process (or, if using pre-generated characters, explained in the process of pointing out what is on the character sheet).  The economy of the game (gold pieces, etc.) is usually described as the player purchases their character's equipment.

It is not unusual that a newbie player will want to play a spell-casting character, and I do not discourage this (in other words, I never force a new player to play a 'plain Jane fighter'). When they voice this desire, I give them an overview of AD&D spell-casting including the limitations inherent in the Vancian magic system. This explanation by itself discourages most newbies from taking on the role of a magic-user (or even a cleric!) but before they become too crestfallen I usually suggest a multi-class character...a fighter/magic-user, for example...as a means of dipping their toe while still playing a fairly durable character. Similarly, I only bother explaining the thief skills (and the thief's limitations) if a player expresses an interest in playing such a character...and explaining that multi-class fighter/thieves are also a more durable option for a first-time player.

In the end, it doesn't matter all that much the kind of character the newbie plays because, in practice, that first character usually dies before the end of the first adventure session even with the aid of experienced players helping them. New players often underestimate threats they've never encountered and overestimate the 'staying power' of their characters. And this is FINE...the new player is learning the rules and limits of the game, and it is good for them to discover that A) death happens and is a real risk in the game, and B) it is NOT the 'end of the world' (as they can quickly create a replacement PC).  Besides which, a player will OFTEN discover...after that initial foray or two into the AD&D world...that the character they were using was not to their liking; that they would prefer to play a dwarf or a ranger or whatever. It is the rare player who falls in love with the first type of character that introduces them to the world of D&D.

What DOES matter, far more than the player's character, is the experience provided to the player by the DM running the game. The DM must have compassion for the new player which (for me) does not mean "going easy" on the player; rather, it means being patient and willing to explain (in simple, non-condescending fashion) the rules and systems of the game as they come up in play. It means reining in experienced players (who might have limited patience for the newbie) reminding them that they were once beginners, too. Having compassion means understanding that the experience of AD&D...and perhaps the experience of playing an RPG at all...is a NEW one to the player, and they cannot be expected to know even things that seem "elementary" in nature.

What ALSO matters is that the player gets a real taste of what AD&D is. Advanced D&D play is about more than just going down into a hole and fighting orcs...and, yet, this is still a basic building block of the game's premise. The newbie player must experience what it IS to be an adventurer in a fantasy world. As such, they will be served best by being given a "dungeon" (i.e. an adventure site) to explore that has real threats along with adequate rewards (in terms of treasure) so that they can learn the rudiments of the game...concepts like surprise and initiative, procedures like searching for secret doors and wandering monster encounters, as well as the tracking of resources (torches, hit points, arrows, spells, etc.). These things should be central to game play, right from the beginning, so that the new player can begin to grasp and internalize the game's mechanism and play loop.  By the end of the session, the player (either with their first PC or their quickly rolled substitute) should be receiving a share of the party's experience points so that they can see feel and understand the incentive structure of the game.

Finally, it is important for the longtime DM to realize that for a TRUE newbie, one who has never played an RPG, in can be EXTREMELY DIFFICULT to even conceptualize the idea of a gaming experience played entirely in the imagination. Building an experience in the new player's mind, describing in detail the sights, sounds, and smells of the dungeon goes a long way towards instilling this "idea" of Dungeons & Dragons. The DM's narrative description of the environment is what "sets the mood" for the player...far more than any music, battlemap, or illustration. Once the action starts (combat, usually) description matters LESS...describing how blows are struck and pain and suffering is inflicted is far less engrossing than simply watching one's dwindling supply of hit points and panic at the thought of (character) death. But in the lead up to the action, the DM's descriptions build tension and atmosphere that set the stage for cathartic release in mechanical procedure...do not underestimate how this tension-frenzy dynamic functions!  

And if there's a chest of gold coins on the other side of the bloody conflict...so much the better.

Yes, we love newbies. They bring new blood to our game: new energy, new enthusiasm. We can vicariously experience their fresh perspective and we can re-experience the same amazement and horror of dangers and challenges that astound their unvarnished nerves. The other day, I got to watch as my players experienced the mighty beholder, a monster I hadn't included in an adventure since I was 12 or 13 years old. What a rush! It ended in a TPK (bruh) but it gave my players a fantastic experience that they can reminisce about for years to come. For the newbie, ANY encounter, run properly, can result in the same legendary memories. It's what can turn the curious novice into a passionate practitioner. 

The more of those, the merrier.

M is for Metagame

[over the course of the month of April, my plan was to post a topic for each letter of the alphabet, sequentially, every day of the week except Sunday. While I was unable to complete the project on time, I find I still have things to say. Our topic in question is Advanced Dungeons & Dragons: how to approach it, how to run it, how to enjoy a system that deserves to be played NOW, nearly 50 years after its inception. Consider this a 'crash course' in the subject]

M is for Metagame...a subject of which I've spoken (at length) in the past. However, if I'm going to do a series on how to approach and run AD&D, it's something worth addressing again.

First off, let's start directly with some quotes from the wikipedia entry for "Metagame:"

In tabletop role-playing games, metagaming has been used to describe players discussing the game, sometimes simply rules discussions and other times causing the characters they control to act in ways they normally would not within the story...

In tabletop role-playing games, metagaming can refer to aspects of play that occur outside of a given game's fictional universe. In particular, metagaming often refers to having an in-game character act on knowledge that the player has access to, but the character should not. For example, having a character bring a mirror to defeat Medusa when they are unaware her gaze can petrify them, or being more cautious when the game is run by a merciless gamemaster.

Some consider metagaming to benefit oneself to be bad sportsmanship. It is frowned upon in many role-playing communities, as it upsets suspension of disbelief, and affects game balance. However, some narrativist indie role-playing games deliberately support metagaming and encourage shared storytelling among players.

Okay, first understand that this entirely starts with the faulty premise that tabletop role-playing games are about "creating stories." While this may be true for some RPGs (not most in my experience), it is certainly not true of AD&D. 

However, setting that aside...a lot of this is simply bullshit.

AD&D, like many RPGs, counts part of its "fun" as being a form of escapist entertainment...a break from the humdrum of daily life. AD&D does this by providing an imaginary world fraught with challenges that players must confront in order to reach their objectives. That is the core system of play, the thing that focuses players attention, allowing them to "tune out" the real world.  When players can do this, their perception rests solely on the action of game play, rather than the events and situations happening away from the table (i.e. the real world). This is the essence of escapism, what is sometimes referred to as immersion or "immersive roleplaying" (the latter because it is immersion during the act of roleplaying).

Most people trying to sell you the bit about crafting stories think immersion is something different. They think "immersion" is something akin to being inside a story. The players become their character, thinking as they do, feeling as they do, reacting "instinctively" as if they were the character, rather than as a person playing a game. 

For these people the idea of metagaming...of considering the game as a game during gameplay...would break this psychotic dissociative identity disorder that they seek to cultivate. In practical reality, however, the majority of players are perfectly sane and, thus, wholly incapable of identifying in such a way with the imaginary character that is their vehicle for exploring the situations of the fantasy game world. It is a fool's errand to even attempt such an exercise.

As such, the proper way to pursue immersion...the state of being in which time slips away from the player's perspective as they completely engage with their pastime...is to lean HARD into the rules and actual play of the game. The Dungeon Master facilitates this by challenging the players with situations ad obstacles that provide real threat to their characters and objectives, with potentially painful (mentally, emotionally) consequences.

Thus challenged, the player(s) must be allowed to use every device at their disposal to survive, INCLUDING (but not limited to) 'outside game knowledge'..,that very thing referred to as "metagaming." 

In play, we are already modeling the "lived experience" of a fantasy world  imperfectly. Mortal combat is not a matter of one side moving in organized fashion, followed by the other. Secret doors are not always found exactly 16% of the time. Poison is rarely, if ever, a binary exercise in life or death. These things are conventions of play, necessary precisely because we ARE playing a game. What sucks players into the moment such that they forget their outside cares and worries and instead zoom in on the roll of a single die is the fact that the stakes of the game...winning and losing, success and failure, death or survival...are ruled by these simple game mechanics. The dice matter, as do the rules and procedures that lead to that all-consuming, attention grabbing dice roll.

Trying to pretend that the game is NOT a game...forbidding "metagaming" in an effort to create some sort of 'lived (fantasy) experience'...is not only missing the point of what makes AD&D an exciting game, but is actually detrimental to the very play that makes the game an exciting, challenging pastime. Best for players to metagame the hell out of it...players should be plotting and planning together, picking the equipment and spells and tactics they think will net them the best chance of success. Players should be rightly frightened at the potential TPK situation when they lose an integral part of their team's resources/capabilities.  Players should be doing their best to pool whatever game knowledge they have in order to best "win" at the adventure that faces them.

As a Dungeon Master you WANT players who are doing this, because such players are ENGAGED ENTHUSIASTS...the kind that will put YOU through the paces, forcing a DM to up their own game. This makes game play just as exciting for you as it is for them.

I'd much rather have THAT at my table then a bunch of folks pretending to be ignorant in the name of "good sportsmanship."

Go Long

Eh. I really don't have time for this. But....

So, I was reading this post by Mr. Maliszewski the other day, as well as its associated links. All things considered it feels a little disjointed which is (perhaps) understandable given his focus at the moment on his current writing project. I can dig that.

Still. It bears a response.

There are RPGs and there are RPGs. And in addition there is Dungeons & Dragons. I think it's important to understand how distinct these things are from each other...and from a fiction franchise like the ones described in James's article. Whether you're talking Star Wars or Game of Thrones or whatever, such things are simply settings designed to TELL STORIES. Specifically, to tell a particular story. 

In the case of Star Wars (for example) we're talking about the "story" of Luke Skywalker, from his humble beginnings to his heroic triumph over the forces of evil. The setting of the Star Wars universe...including both its interplanetary geography, its history/timeline, its imagined "culture," its cast of characters, its pseudo-religions, etc....all exist specifically as BACKDROP for the story being told. They provide a rich and (for many folks) inviting tapestry that intrigues and engages the imagination, but they are only as important as they apply to the story at hand. That there is room enough in the setting to tell other stories (the rise and fall of Anakin Skywalker, for example, or the story of parental love and identity found in The Mandalorian series) is evidence of the broad consistency and richness of its fantasy landscape. 

[I'd be tempted to say the same about the various book series set in the Star Wars universe, except that A) I've read almost none of them, and B) what I have read all seems to be filled/fraught with blatant "fanservice," in the same annoying fashion as most of the cinematic installments in the franchise history]

Similar statements could be said of Martin's ASoFaI series except that it is far more limited in scope, being (for the most part) medieval mudcore with extremely limited fantasy elements often subverted (especially in the teleplay) to visual porn (both of violence and sexuality).

[I say that as someone who is a fan of the series and who has found it fascinating in spite of its more prurient elements. In other words, not trying to hate, just calling it like I see it]

Franchises...whether you're talking Lucas and Martin or the ones created by Roddenberry, Herbert, Rowling, Tolkien, Clancy, etc....all have something in common: they have become a means of generating reliable income for their producers (either the creators or those who hold the IP) because of their built-in fan/customer base. Every installment of the franchise...whether it be a book, a movie, a TV show, or some example of lifestyle branding/signaling (t-shirts, merch, etc.)...becomes an investment destined to yield a rich return. When Disney allows some company to create coffee mugs with superheroes branded on it, you can be sure that they are reaping some sort of royalty return, even as they allow the cup company to make money themselves (and continue promoting their franchise). Every franchise is a money-making cash cow designed to milk fan loyalty. Pure and simple. This is what the capital behind the franchise is (excuse the pun) banking on.

But D&D is a game, not a franchise.

At least the D&D I play. Unlike certain RPGs that are based on specific, story-based IP (think: most Chaosium RPGs, many "trad" RPGs of the 90s, etc.) D&D invites players to create THEIR OWN WORLD...their own campaign...in which to play the game. Unless you're going to buy into a specific piece of setting IP (say, DragonLance or Greyhawk or whatever), the game you run is your own...with no story involved.

Which is important! Stories have beginnings and (generally speaking, Mr. Martin) endings as well. As such, they are designed to stop. That corporations (it is always corporations of some sort) decide to turn a story into a money-making franchise does not change this essential fact. Luke Skywalker's story is over, once it's told. So is the story of succession for the Iron Throne (once the matter is decided). It is a LOT harder to find reasons to create adventures in a setting/world for which the major events have already been chronicled. 

Not impossible mind you. Creative minds will find a way.

But not all RPGs are created equally. Dungeons & Dragons doesn't come with a built in setting. Instead, it provides a set of rules for playing a game. Individual Dungeon Masters are the parties responsible for creating their worlds/settings. And with a focus on that (i.e. world creation) why would anyone ever tire of their campaign?

DMs are not storytellers. We are lords of creation. We are gods.

D&D is not played with an end goal in mind. Yes there are "win" (and "loss") conditions built into the system; yes, there are objectives of play. But these are of secondary importance to the experiential nature of play itself. DMs do not create stories; DMs create worlds. And then they run those worlds using the rules of the game.  

Some might say that any confession that an RPG (especially one not tied to a specific setting or fiction franchise) could, eventually, be "played out" shows a distinct lack of creativity. As was pointed out to me the other day, a piano has only 88 keys, and yet people continue to find ways to create new music with those same keys, even after centuries of use. And that's only using two hands! How many more combinations of situations can one create with a Monster Manual and a blank sheet of graph paper? How many more iterations can you have with multiple human players, each bringing their own experiences and personalities to the table?

I am certain there are those who look at the game of AD&D...the game I've yet to tire of after 40-odd years...and say, what a boring game. What a boring premise. Killing monsters and getting gold. How long can that stay exciting? How long till that grows tiresome? I am certain of this because people have said as much to me...more than once.

And yet most of us have had the experience of having to "work for a living." Even those of us blessed with an exciting, fulfilling job/career/vocation have known days that were humdrum and boring, or challenging in non-fun ways...dealing with irate clients and unresponsive vendors and the fluctuation of markets affected by the stupid, stupid actions of an utterly corrupt and incompetent American president. 

Isn't it nice to have an escape to a world where your problems can be solved with a sword or a magic spell? Isn't it fun to have some pulse-pounding, adrenaline surging excitement that doesn't end in real world injury...or even sore muscles? And for the creative individual, isn't it nice to have an ENTIRE UNIVERSE to shape and mold as you please, and to share that universe with our fellow humans, astounding them with pulse-pounding, adrenaline surging experiences?

There is a deeper game beyond the surface play one first discovers as a kid opening a boxed "basic set" of D&D...but one only finds it if they spend the time and effort to grow and develop their game. Just as we, humans, grow and develop ourselves.  We need to stop selling ourselves short.

Go long.