Foot, Meet Ass

AKA "A Discussion of the Principia Apocrypha"

Reader Steam Tunnel, God bless him, has made it clear to me that a discussion of the "work" known as Principia Apocrypha needs to be reviewed and analyzed. I had not planned on doing this today (I hadn't planned on posting anything, actually...) but best to nip this kind of thing in the bud.

Taking a cue from Bryce Lynch, I'm going to read this so YOU don't have to.

David Perry's Principia (subtitled "Elementary Axioms & Aphorisms On Running & Playing Tabletop RPGs In The Old School Style From Ben Milton & Steven Lumpkin") is freely available from Perry's web site, although it can also be picked up (in German!) from DriveThruRPG. 

I first became aware of it (near as I can recall) in September of 2021, at which time I referred to it as "a huge steaming pile of nonsense." After Steam Tunnel's assertion that "everything" Alexis wrote about in his posts of 10/14 and 10/15 "was largely covered in the Principia Apocrypha," I decided I better re-read the thing and make sure I hadn't missed some brilliant changes that had been made to the body of the text.

Nope: it's still just a pile of crap.  But let's discuss why!

Principia is a Latin word meaning "beginnings" or "fundamental principles." Apocrypha is a Greek word meaning "hidden" or "secret." Setting aside the question of why we are mixing languages (other than the pretension of making it sound like some sort of scholarly treatise), I found it interesting that my Google AI also returned the following meaning for the latter term: "of doubtful authenticity." Now THAT makes sense.

The pamphlet (for lack of a more accurate term) is 31 pages long, and is a mostly rambling essay of some 4,500 words (including Chapter titles). How is that even possible, one might ask? Well, it uses a REALLY LARGE FONT and offers a TON of blank space (I assume 'for effect') and then adds some illustrations. But 4,500 words is nothing, especially in THIS case, where the author/editor insists on using pithy phrases, needless prattle, elementary examples, and mind-numbing padding. Here's an example:

As GM (or Judge or Referee, perhaps more appropriate for old school style games), you are not an antagonist to the players or characters.

Twenty-four words. Just to communicate the obvious (i.e. not "secret" or "hidden") idea that "DM's should not be jerks." Needless padding and neglects the use of the term Dungeon Master which is common parlance for ALL "old school" games.

In contrast, here are two blog posts I wrote in response to exactly this kind of tripe explaining the fallacies in treating Finch's "Old School Primer" as Gospel, and what the ACTUAL fundamental parts of AD&D are:

Dispel Myth(s)

Seven Elements

Total word count combined: 5,125 words, very little of which is "filler." I really, REALLY hate to toot my own horn, but I daresay these are worth reading if you're confused about what is and is not "old school" D&D play...especially if you're using docs like Principia Apocrypha as your holy writ. 

But let's not bury the lead, JB...what about the actual CONTENT in this pamphlet? Sure...we can go through the various "principles" (though my post might end up longer than the original document):

Rulings Over Rules 

The principle that rulings should override rules misunderstands AD&D’s core structure. While flexibility is necessary, the rules exist to create a common game language and ensure fairness. Disregarding them casually undermines the consistency that makes D&D a game rather than an improv exercise. True “rulings” occur within the framework of rules comprehension...not as a replacement for it...and, generally, only when necessary.

Divest Yourself of Their Fate

The suggestion that the DM must be impartial to the point of detachment ignores that the universe (the DM) does care. The Dungeon Master isn’t a mere “arbiter” of dice rolls, but a world-builder and caretaker who invests meaning in the results. Dice add risk and impartiality, but the DM’s human judgment ensures coherence and care for the campaign’s ongoing legacy. 

Leave Preparation Flexible

This principle conflates player freedom with DM aimlessness. True D&D requires strong preparation: dungeon architecture, treasure placement, encounter balance, and world logistics. The illusion of spontaneity rests on thorough planning. A flexible campaign still demands an exacting DM who prepares intelligently and consistently applies world logic (along with a firm knowledge and application of the rules).

Build Responsive Situations

The emphasis on “situations” rather than “adventures” or “scenarios” reflects a modern narrative bias. In D&D, the dungeon or wilderness is not a “situation”—it is an objective challenge space. While dynamism between factions is valuable, the focus should remain on concrete, actionable design—not on “responsive narrative ecosystems.” 

Embrace Chaos… But Uphold Logic

Randomness has value, but is not the be-all and end-all of design. Random tables and dice rolls are tools of constrained uncertainty, not invitations to surrealism. When logic and consistency is cast aside in favor of randomness, the game world loses credibility and denies both intelligent play and player engagement. Dice should surprise, not confuse. 

Let Them Off the Rails

Sound advice, but hardly a "secret principle." Early D&D’s non-linear structure (wilderness maps, keyed dungeons, hex crawls) already presumes no rails. The real issue isn’t railroading—it’s whether the DM has prepared enough substance for players to meaningfully explore when they go off the expected path. 

XP for Discovery and Adversity

This re-frames XP-for-treasure into a vague “XP for discovery,” which dilutes the economic core of D&D. The treasure-based XP system is elegant: it unifies risk, exploration, and player motivation under one measurable mechanic. Replacing it with “discovery and adversity” invites subjectivity and erodes the economy’s balancing function. 

Player Ingenuity Over Character Ability

This principle is sound but the Principia often presents it as if rediscovered wisdom rather than baked into D&D’s mechanical DNA. D&D already privileges player skill through exploration, problem-solving, and resource management. However, it also presumes mastery of rules and tactics; this isn’t “freeform creativity,” it’s applied ingenuity within constraints. 

Cleverness Rewarded, Not Thwarted

Again, this echoes D&D’s ethos but strips away the mechanical teeth that make cleverness meaningful. Rewarding cleverness only matters when failure is real and the stakes are economic and mortal. If the GM is merely “generous,” cleverness becomes theater. In D&D, cleverness is rewarded by treasure, survival, and advancement: quantifiable consequences. 

Ask Them How They Do It

This section advocates for descriptive play over die rolls, which is garbage; it promotes an aesthetic dance over practical game play. It is not necessary to ask "How are you checking for traps?" Players interact with the mechanics (I check for traps), DM arbitrates (make your roll), and the session continues. Just what are we doing here? D&D is not performative in the way of a story-teller; promoting procedural clarity over performative guesswork keeps the gaming moving.

Let Them Manipulate the World

More garbage. Brute force (i.e. violence) is one of the core tenets of the game (hence the reason so much of the instructional text is devoted to combat). While other methods of problem solving are available, there are material limits to player manipulation: encumbrance, time, spell limits, reaction rolls, morale, etc. “Tools” are not permission slips for freeform creativity; they are resources to be husbanded, just like hit points and gold. Manipulation without limitation ceases to be game play. 

Good Items Are Unique Tools 

Sure, magic can be wondrous and weird, but Principia leans toward “whimsical toys” instead of meaningful campaign resources. D&D’s magic items have weight: they alter logistics, balance, and risk, and their strategic use are an important aspect of meeting in-game challenges. Magical scarcity and consequence...not cuteness...are what define the "old edition" gameplay. 

Don’t Mind the Fourth Wall

This principle is careless. “Metagaming” is a natural part of gameplay, and leads to engagement and immersion in a way that "strict personification" of one's character does not.

Offer Tough Choices

Choices ARE offered in D&D, but the emphasis should be on MEANINGFUL choices, not "tough" choices. Meaningful choices are usually grounded in resource pressures (time, light, HPs, spells, etc.) rather than narrative morality or dilemma-for-drama. Real tension is practical, not thematic. 

Subvert Their Expectations

Subversion is not a design goal in D&D; it is a byproduct of coherent world-building. If monsters and magic follow clear logic, surprises will emerge organically. Deliberate “twisting of tropes” risks drawing attention to the author instead of the world, and discounts the effort players apply to game mastery. Novelty should arise from authentic unpredictability, not clever meta-jokes. 

Build Challenges with Multiple Answers

True in principle—but only when those answers arise from the rules and world physics, not from DM fiat. D&D’s openness comes from simulationist consistency, not improvisational flexibility. If every problem has multiple answers because “the DM says so,” then the world is arbitrary, not logical. Multiple real solutions, not infinite possible ones. 

And Challenges with No Answer

This advice is a design indulgence. Challenges with “no answer” contradict the purpose of play: D&D is a game to be solved through risk and ingenuity. “No-answer” problems exist only when the DM withholds tools or logic. True D&D thrives on fairness: every obstacle is deadly, but all are beatable through intelligence, magic, treasure, or sheer luck.

Deadly but Avoidable Combat

Entirely consistent with D&D—combat should be dangerous and not the default. However, Principia frames this in terms of “story stakes,” whereas D&D grounds it in mechanical reality: hit points, armor, morale, and logistics. Combat’s lethality emerges from rules and scarcity, not DM philosophy. “Avoidable” is good; “cinematic lethality” is a distortion. And always remember that D&D offers many ways to recover from death.

Keep Up the Pressure

Run correctly, the game applies its own pressure. DMs performing their job correctly need not resort to 1-in-6 "chance for trouble;" just nonsense.

Let the Dice Kill Them...

The dice may be the heralds of death, but it is the DM's choices that determine when those dice are rolled. Make no mistake: the DM is adversarial...not antagonistic in malice, but in purpose. This is the game, and the players know and expect this; it's the DM's job to challenge the players and place deadly perils in their path. You can say "it's just the dice!" all you want...the players will feel otherwise.

Reveal the Situation / Give Them Layers to Peel

Transparency is good, but the Principia’s tone implies the DM should curate the mystery for narrative effect, not simulate an environment. D&D’s exploration procedures already structure discovery. The DM doesn’t need to “peel layers”; the dungeon does that itself. The focus should remain on spatial and procedural revelation, not narrative pacing. 

Keep the World Alive 

The section is mostly fine other than the first sentence (Old school RPGs shine with improvisation and extrapolation, not rigid plots."). We are not looking for scripted plots and stories, but situations and scenarios lend structure, whereas a game run on 100% "improvisation and extrapolation" can lead to chaos and boredom.

NPCs Aren’t Scripts

This part is fine except for the last section that extolls "liberal" use of Reaction and Morale rolls. If you "treat NPCs like real people" with motivations, the random rolls need apply only rarely.

Annnd...is that about it? I suppose I didn't go over the "Principles for Players," but they're mostly self-evident, misleading, or contrary to the game as designed. Let's see if I can hit these in lightning round fashion:

Learn When To Run: Right. You're not playing 5E anymore.

Combat As War, Not Sport: Sure. But fortune favors the bold.

Don't Be Limited By Your Character Sheet: You should ABSOLUTELY know and make use of what's on your character sheet; failing to do so is your failure! Make use of your abilities, skills, and equipment; ask questions! What's the DM going to say besides "no?" Learn from your mistakes.

Live Your Backstory: You don't have a backstory.

Power Is Earned, Heroism Proven: Huh? This some narrativist BS here. Play your character like it's you in the situation with the skills available to you. YOU decide whether you want to act heroically (at whatever power level your character is). Heroism is NOT about slaying the dragon single-handedly; heroism is making the hard choice for the right reason. 

Scrutinize The World, Interrogate The Fiction: This is mostly fine, but (just like the "other games" referenced), D&D also has rules for doing things. If you fail your secret door roll, you don't find the secret door...don't expect your "descriptive narration" to override the baked-in game mechanics.

The Only Dead End Is Death: Sometimes a dead end is just a dead end. I put them in my adventures all the time. And there are a TON of ways to overcome death in the game, just by the way.

Play To Win, Savor Loss: Loss happens. You can choose to learn from your mistakes...and become a better player with fewer losses...or you can learn to "love failure" (as the Principia Apocrypha suggests), in which case you'll never grow or develop as a player. Which means you'll never open the whole range of game play available to you, instead being relegated to the role of a perpetual punching bag.

Pathetic.

Man, that was rough, right? What gives me the authority to be so mean to yet another form-over-function, style-over-substance offering from some bright corner of the OSR community? Who the heck am I to pontificate on the subject? Just a blowhard blogger with some 2500+ posts over 16+ years? Just a guy who's been playing these games, running these games, and teaching these games for 40+ years, publishing a handful of books along the way? How do my credentials stack up against these fine people writing their manifesto on "old school gaming?" Well, let's see...

Principia Apocrypha was "assembled and amended by David Perry, and appears on his web site. Perry has two blogs, one with a grand total of 17 entries between 2021 and 2023, the other with 26 entries between 2018 and 2025. Aside from this steaming pile, I found only one credit for him on DriveThruRPG, as one of 29 authors that contributed to a 46 page "collaboratively stocked dungeon" called The Halls Untoward (system agnostic). Oh...and he has some stuff on itch.io.

Ben Milton is a longtime game reviewer at Questing Beast and the author of the OSR game Knave, which I believe I've mentioned before.He's been around since at least 2014 (back when he was big on Pathfinder), and has several game credits to his name on DriveThruRPG, including the much beloved The Waking of Willowby Hall. You can purchase Knave, 2nd Edition (PDF only) for $19.99. Perry credits Milton's other game, Maze Rats, as being one of the primary sources for his Principia Apocrypha.

Steven Lumpkin is a video game designer who started a blog in 2014 (inactive since 2018 with only 27 entries) which, per Mr. Perry, is the source of the original principles text of the Principia Apocrypha and a primary source for the document as a whole. In addition to his defunct blog, Lumpkin is a GM for a net series (like Critical Role?) called Rollplay: The West Marches, which I've never heard of. His credits on DriveThruRPG include the German version of Principia Apocrypha...and that's it.

So...yeah. Real authorities, there, huh? Paragons of "Old School" cred?

Let's be serious for a moment: the so-called "OSR" isn't anything more than a branding moniker these days. No longer is it a "movement" of any sort; rather, it is "marketing," pure and simple. Principles like those put forward in Principia Apocrypha or like those worshipped in Matt Finch's Old School Primer are nothing more than empty platitudes that only partially describe old edition play and mainly serve as distraction and misinformation. Even bothering to write this post is a colossal waste of my time...this is the kind of thing that shouldn't NEED to be written as it should be utterly obvious to anyone picking it up that these "secret principles" are nothing but lukewarm blog ramblings that most AI algorithms could easily spit out, upon command. Easy.

Newbies to Old School gaming: don't be grifted and swayed by these petty "influencers" looking to define gameplay in a way that makes their own products more enticing or adds laurels to their names. Forget that crap...look to the people doing the work as examples and models to follow and then do what they do. Because if they've been doing it for years (or decades!) without fail, then maybe they know what the hell they're doing. Beware of false prophets and monetization for the sake of monetization.

*sigh* That's it for today.

(2,778 words)

"Dear JB" Mailbag #45

Hey JB!

My kids (and a few friends) are starting a D&D session tonight. They’ve already made their character sheets. I’ve watched Critical Role, but I know a real 9–12 year old game is going to be way different.

I’m not the DM, but I’ll be in the room helping to moderate and keep things under control. The kids get super excited, and it’s a mixed group of boys and girls.

I’m looking for tips on:

• Keeping the energy from getting too wild
• Making sure everyone gets a turn and stays engaged
• Helping the DM without stepping on the story
• Any tricks for handling the chaos that comes with kids this age

Basically, I want the session to be fun, smooth, and memorable for everyone without me having to run the game. 

Thanks for any advice!

Mom, Looking For Advice For My Kid's DnD

Hey, Mom:

I run an AD&D game for my kids and their friends. I love D&D; I've been running D&D games for 40+ years. As a parent, a coach of youth sports, and an experienced DM, I have a pretty good handle on the nuance of the job, and the kids have a good time. They ask me to run the game for them. And I'm happy to oblige.

It sounds like you don't know much about D&D. You've watched Critical Role (um...NOT D&D). You're not planning on acting as DM and don't want to run the game. Given this, here is the best advice I can give you:

Leave the room. Shut the door. Let the kids play.

I got my first D&D set around the age of 9 and was DMing for myself and my friends by age 10. There were no parents; there was no adult supervision. We were Just Fine.

Was there "wild energy?" Yes. Was there "chaos?" Yes. Was it a "mixed group of boys and girls?" Yes.

Were we doing bong rips and swilling six-packs and sticking each other with sharp objects and getting each other pregnant and such? No. Were we worshipping Satan? No. Torturing small animals? Maybe...if you count my younger brother who insisted on playing. But he tortured us, too.

Look, I understand the helicopter parent thing. I'm the father of two. But I know D&D and you, ma'am, do not. Let me put it this way: when you were a kid, hanging out in the basement with your friends playing a board game, did you need a parent to moderate your play? To make sure you were all "engaged" and "taking turns?" At the age of 11 or 12? 

Because, if so, you had a really dysfunctional childhood. 

If your kids are OLD ENOUGH TO READ and UNDERSTAND the instructions, then they are old enough to play the game WITHOUT YOU. So let them play. You're not interested in playing...that's fine. I wouldn't have wanted my parents to play when I was a kid. My kids are different...but that's because I taught them how to play (at their request). 

Here's what's going to happen, Mom, while you're not in the room:

• The kids are going to be rowdy (because that's how kids are).
• The kids are going to police themselves with their own "kid social/group dynamic" (because that's what kids do)
• If they aren't having fun with the game, they'll stop trying to play after 20-40 minutes and they'll do something else...chase each other, shoot each other with Nerf guns, play a different, less complicated board game, go outside, etc.
• If they ARE having fun they'll sit around playing for a couple hours (maybe) before they get bored and decide to do something else...chase each other, shoot each other with Nerf guns, play a different, less complicated board game, go outside, etc.
• If you offer them snacks, they will eat them like non-conscious zombies. If you offer them real food they will tell you they're not hungry until you make them come to the table (at which point they'll eat like ravenous wolves).

If you want to do a good job, keep them hydrated.

But that's it...that's really all you need to do. If anyone starts bleeding, they'll come looking for you (as kids do). If anyone starts screaming in pain and distress, you'll hear it and can come a-running (as mom's do). This is no different from any other kid activity...and it's a lot less dangerous than most. I mean, a LOT less dangerous...kids can fall down and sprain their wrist or break their collar bone just playing in the backyard. As long as your children are smart enough not to stuff dice in their various orifices, they should be safe as can be.

So what's the issue, Mom? Your kids are the cruel, bullying type? Or their friends are? They've all decided to "nerd out" together playing D&D...how bad are you afraid they'll treat each other?

Let it go, Mom. Breathe deep breaths. Check your email. Read a book. Have a big ol' glass of wine while chopping some fresh veg and/or fruit to feed the youngsters some healthy snacks. Take a chill pill.

The kids are all right.

Sincerely,

JB

Restoring Sanity

You know, I mostly write these "Dear JB" posts to have some sort of "content" to post on Ye Old Blog, and because they're pretty darn easy to do: find someone who is suffering with their D&D (because they haven't been taught the proper way to play) and berate them/talk sense to them. Easy, easy blog fodder, which is good for a guy who's way too busy these days.

However, there's another reason why I write them: I have the feeling that there are SOME people who, despite being on the same page with Yours Truly, may be suffering through the same kinds of issues (to a greater or lesser degree), and I HOPE that those folks find something helpful in what I write. Something useful.

Because the sad fact is that a LOT of the gaming world, at least to judge by what's being written and video'd and podcasted about on-line, is INSANE these days. Modern D&D players are nuts. Their problems and issues are nuts...as in, they should not be happening and would not be happening if they took a different approach to the game.  If I was a better writer and not some nutty hack myself, I'd put out a nice, clear essay succinctly explaining the proper mindset to run D&D competently...but I'm not.

Fortunately, somebody else is.

If you're coming to this blog from a newer edition of the game...hell, if you didn't start playing D&D (or role-playing games) before 1983, you should probably read this essay. Just to make sure you have everything crystal clear in your head. It is, of course, POSSIBLE that you already play exactly as described...it is possible that you have developed a style over time that is, more-or-less, on the same page as what's been written here. But I'd still ask you to check it out...just in case.  

I've read it twice myself...it's not terribly long. And it perfectly describes my approach to the game. The approach my friends and I took to the game back when we played the thing for long hours in early and mid-1980s. The way I still approach the game. When Prince reviews my style of running, writing:

Becker runs a good game, and his unpretentious matter of fact style, relentless pacing and sparse description keeps the game going...I highly enjoyed watching Becker in action, the economy of long practice, the workmanlike but functional dungeons, the expedient calls and no nonsense brutality. This was a fun game....

My reaction (besides 'glad you had fun' and 'thanks for the kind words') is I'M JUST RUNNING THE GAME, MAN. That's it. It's really, Really, REALLY not performative.  As was said in Alexis's essay: that's just noise. People need not worry about the noise. Just worry about knowing how to use the rules.

It's not rocket science. It's not incredibly difficult or complex. It's just D&D.

Such a good essay. Does my job for me.

Cauldron Wrap-Up

It's Saturday morning...not quite a week since the end of Cauldron III. I've been home (Seattle) since Monday night. Things are, more-or-less, back to "normal."

Sofia's (school) soccer season has ended (although we're still going to do some sort of pizza party), and it was a successful one. Our goal, set at the beginning of the season, was to make the playoffs in our first year of eligibility and we did so, being second in our division of ten, and number four of only eight teams selected. Next year, we will set our expectations higher.

Likewise, high school cross-country has wrapped up for Diego; his last meet (Thursday) I got to watch him finish #11 out of some 300+ kids (#4 amongst first year students) form eight different schools. It was not his best run of the season, and he felt he should have placed higher for this particular meet, but this was his first time doing high school athletics, and he had a pretty strong season.

Club soccer continues for both kids. Diego's off to Yakima today.  Sofia and I will be putting together the last touches of our Halloween costumes (normally, I'd be the one on "driving duty" for the five hour round trip, but I'm the Lector at 5pm Mass this evening).  School continues. Basketball season is starting. Etc.

This is my family; this is my life. And I love it. At Cauldron, I may be a God of the Gaming Table and a Creator of Worlds...at home I'm the dishwasher, the chauffeur, and the scrubber of toilets. It is the the way of life, and I wouldn't want to have it any other way. If I wanted it some other way, it would be some other way...we create our own reality, just as surely as Dungeon Masters create dungeons.

Why do I bring this up?

Cauldron is an amazing, incredible experience...one that I feel so blessed to have participated in, one that gives me so much joy, I feel the need to write four or five (long) blog posts about it. For an old gamer like me, it is three days of unbridled bliss...

[sorry, had to pause to feed my kid breakfast before he got on the road: two fried eggs, bacon, sourdough toast, pineapple juice. Dishes can wait]

...much as I find bliss to spend a week on Orcas in the summer. Or to spend two weeks with my in-laws in Orizaba. Or as it used to be to spend Thanksgiving in Whistler, BC with my mom...or the Thanksgivings of my youth in Missoula, Montana.

Cauldron is a holiday. It is not my day-to-day reality.

And I want it to remain so, as something special. The dates have been posted for next year's Cauldron, and it's early enough in October that I could make it work with the soccer schedule; I could do it, I could make it back for 2026....

*sigh*

Since coming home, I've been in near constant contact with the con-goers via the Cauldron discord: checking in, scrolling photos, discussing plans for next year, throwing out ideas of how to make the con even cooler than it already is (as if we weren't already on the edge of spontaneous combustion). Just trying to keep that feeling, that Cauldron "magic" going...even after the thing has officially come to a close. Iudex...a man who reminds so much of my good friend Carlos Chavez in Mexico that it is painful...even suggested (jokingly, I'm sure) that I consider moving to Europe.

Mm. I love Europe. But leave the Pacific Northwest?

No. I'm not quite ready to create THAT reality. For better or worse, I'm a loud, ugly American, proud of my U.S. passport. And for right now, I can't imagine living out my last days...and dying...in any place but the Evergreen state, tasting the fresh piney air and hearing the patter of rain drops (it's been pouring the last two days: typical October weather). I'm not trying to be morbid or a downer...I'm just sharing the real thoughts in my mind. Not just the last few days, but the last couple years. Ever since the first Cauldron.

[truthfully]

If only I could bring everyone out here! Host my own Cauldron...some sort of extravaganza on Orcas in the summer time (I mean, if we're just wishing/dreaming...). Show them MY neck of the woods, feast them on fresh seafood from the Puget Sound and beers brewed from our local hops, wines from the Yakima valley. Hell, avocados! Are there no avocados in Germany?

*sigh*

Pipe dreams. For now, Cauldron must remain overseas and...for me...just an occasional holiday. One that I look forward to, one that I look back on with great fondness.

But I miss the people. There were 80+ attendees at Cauldron this year. I gamed with more than 40 of them including: Settembrini, Prince of Nothing, Iudex, Doof, Grutzi, Michal, MichalS, Mike, Domenico, Henning, Alex, Tamas, Chomy, Sonke, Justin, Cris, Ludwig, DangerIsReal, Butch, James, Orlando, Daniel, Paul, Ollie, Jay, Walid, Dillon, Theo, Dreadlord, Tom, Pangea, and...gosh, so many others whose names (and/or internet handles) escape me at the moment. And then ther are the people that it was so good to see and talk to, even if we didn't game together: BlutUndGlass, Melan, DerOgre, Eria (duh), Ghoul, Lynchpin, GusB, Eric, Yandere, x_y_z, MK...so many, so many good people. 

Man, I truly, truly enjoy spending time with all of you...more than words can convey. 

And with regard to the gamers specifically...those of you who showed up at my table in 2023, and then came back for more in 2025 (sometimes TWICE)...well, it touches my heart. Honestly. That feels much more like the bonds of friendship than just "pick-up games at a con." 

I will be back. But I don't know when. I asked the age of the youngest player at Cauldron this year: twelve. I'm sure she and my daughter would have a blast (Sofia will be 12 in April). And I know Diego would have a good time gaming. I was considering taking them BOTH in '26.

But that air travel.

It's one thing for me to go 14 hours with small catnaps, and then pull my shit together enough to game hardcore over three days before flying home...do I want to put my kids through that?

Mm. 

It would be one thing if my entire family was into gaming...but that's not the case. The only way it would work is if we made it a "family trip" (which my wife would be down with...she loves to travel and digs Germany), and just made Cauldron a portion of a longer excursion.

But she (my wife) wouldn't want to game. And what would she do for three days while we were there? And would my kids want to game three days in a row (they're not as crazy as I am)? And would I be traveling with all my gear while tooling around Germany? 

No. Unfortunately, it doesn't make logistical sense. Which is a crying shame because playing AD&D with Euro kids in Germany would be an awesome experience for them that they'd both love. But it's not just a drive to Yakima or Spokane. It would be...nuts.

You create your own reality.

All right, that's enough discussion of Cauldron 2025...time to turn the page. I want to take a little break from D&D-stuff in general (yeah, right...we'll see how long that resolution lasts!) to get a handle on some other projects. Some of which ARE D&D-related but, well... The POINT is: I've got a couple-three blog posts already scheduled over the next couple days, but after that you can expect fairly light blogging for a few weeks; I've got OTHER "holiday stuff" to attend to.

Have a wunderbar day, folks!

[for ease of access:

Cauldron 2025

Let Slip The Dogs Of War Part I

Let Slip The Dogs Of War Part II

Let Slip The Dogs Of War Part III ]

Let Slip The Dogs Of War (Part III)

In which I  finally discuss...at lengrh...the tournament module written for Cauldron 2025's prestigious (and now annual) Blackrazor Cup....

SATURDAY BLOCK I: Rivers of Blood, Death, and Glory

Getting to Germany from Seattle isn't the easiest thing in the world. Yeah, it's a long haul. Yeah, it's more money than I'd like to spend on a plane ticket. Yeah, it means being away from my family for a weekend and missing things like high school dances and playoff soccer games. 

Is it worth the trouble and effort, just for a gaming convention? For me?

Yes. It is.

But I don't know if it's quite worth it...or if I'm quite willing...to make it an annual pilgrimage. Every other year sounds about right. At least until my kids are old enough to accompany me (always assuming I can afford the airfare). Cauldron I (in 2023) was fantastic...but I couldn't quite justify doing it again in 2024. And yet, I wanted to be part of Cauldron II all the same. Which is why I asked to convention organizers (well, really just Settembrini) if I could write a tournament module for the thing. 

Hence was born Children of the Sea, which I haven't written much about, because I thought it was going to be part of the OSRIC kickstarter stretch goals. Yeah, no...THAT didn't happen. But don't worry; it'll get released in a different fashion....

Feedback from Children was immensely positive: the con-goers in 2024 really seemed to enjoy it...so much so that they wanted to make it an annual contest at the con. Great news! However, some folks felt that the module had been "too easy." What the F...?

[when I ran it for my home group it ended in a TPK...]

My adventures are supposed to be "challenging" not "easy;" certainly not "too easy!" Having my ego slighted, it is only natural that I would want to redeem myself with a stronger adventure for 2025. Not a terribly awful, "killer" dungeon, but something designed to be fiendish even while being appropriately stocked for players of the requisite level.  

Thus was conceived the idea for Rivers of Blood, Death, and Glory. I think the title probably came first, even before the concept: an upriver trek into the frozen wilds of British Columbia. 

Now, when searching for a premise/scenario, my first thought that to re-write/re-purpose yet another DragonLance module...specifically DL6: Dragons of Ice. I have a fascination with this adventure, for a number of reasons. For one thing, I rather love white dragons: they are dragons (duh) that even low-mid level parties can survive encounters with...great for a game with the word "dragons" in the title. Also, frost breath is awesome. Also, in B/X and OD&D they are NEUTRAL in alignment, making them one of three "non-evil" dragons (which opens all sorts of possibilities). Not that this adventure was ever planned to be anything other than AD&D....

My favorite DragonLance cover art...

There are two other reasons that DL6 interests me: the first of these is that it represents the first adventure truly divorced from the novels. I read the original DL novels long before I ever read any of the modules, and the details of the protagonists' excursion to IceWall Castle (another great name) is mostly left out of the text, instead being relegated to (yet another) example of the Hickman poetry fetish. Which...for me...means that the unfolding events of the adventure are quite wide open for interpretation.

The last reason I find DL6 interesting is that the "dungeon" portion of the adventure is actually stocked "by the numbers," with the proper amount of monsters, traps/tricks, special, and empty encounters (for the number of encounter areas) AND (if memory serves) even the proper amount of treasure for the party. This is pretty amazing, and considering the size it would fit just fine within a four-hour tournament time slot (it is a rather small "dungeon").

However, it is BORING AS HELL and, for the most part, far too easy when it comes to the "big bad evil wizard," and while it is well-themed (and includes some great dragon encounters), I didn't particularly want minotaurs and walrus men.  Oh...and the layout is pretty sad, too: a bunch of rooms around a courtyard; possibly the most dull map ever attached to a Hickman project.

[to be fair, it IS credited to Douglas Niles, an author I do not hold in very high esteem as a module cobbler] 

Even so, it gave me a good base to start from. I removed the "evil wizard" guy completely (because evil wizards tend to get pwned when facing a party of eight adventurers, no matter how high their level...spell interruption, you know?) and instead made the guy dead and buried and part of the backstory. Minotaurs and thanoi got replaced with yetis, the polar bear for a brown bear (because it's British Columnia). All the dragons got to stay (yes, Chomi, DL6 uses the exact same number of dragons!), as did the winter wolves. Throw in a few undead here and there, a golem, some magical traps appropriate to a lich's stronghold and some more interesting treasure and voila! Tournament adventure written.

[I keep telling people I'm just a hack when it comes to this stuff, and I'm not lying. I may be a very good hack, but in terms of sheer creativity there are plenty of Very Fine Minds out there to whom I don't hold a candle]

Having run the adventure twice prior to Cauldron, I had a pretty good idea of how the thing played. The "upper works" (where the bulk of the adventure's half a million gold pieces in treasure may be found) is especially dastardly.  UNIVERSALLY, I found players would get flustered/distracted by the firetrap on the lich's crystal ball and then miss searching for secret doors in the scrying room; this is only exacerbated by the multiple yeti encounters (where are we going to run into another pack of those guys) and the pressure of the tournament time limit.

[I am cognizant of the elven party members' ability to automatically check for secret doors just by passing by the space, but if they did not mention anything about exploring the room or even going deep into it, I did not allow the chance. Were I to rewrite the adventure, I would simply note that the secret door can ONLY be found by "active searching," and see which groups keep their wits about them]

Likewise, the cliffside entrance to the dragon caves is supposed to be difficult to spot...if anything, that entrance is meant to be a "reward" of sorts for groups that encounter (and survive!) a random encounter with the dragon while exploring the village. I will relate that ONE particular group at Cauldron (who shall not be named) asked me for a "hint" about the adventure and I said, "Keep your heads up." They deciphered my message and found their way into the caves...only to be all-but-TPK'd by the dragon and her young. Instant karma, perhaps?

With regard to my own Cauldron session, the group did a fine job: certainly the best of any of the three groups I've run. Now, given, they DID have eight heads in the game, but the adventure ran pretty much the same, and they were quite clever with how they approached the various encounters, not taking anything in the way of casualties (by actual DEATH), losing fingers to frostbite, melting their own weapons in the black forge, blowing up spell-casters with the firetrap, or trying on the necklace of strangulation. In fact, they were the FIRST group I've run to not lose a single party member...well, except for one player who left the table (perhaps in disgust, after being energy drained half his levels). 

[sorry, man...]

ACTUALLY, the disgust was more likely due to the way I could not contain my maniacal cackling laughter towards the end of the adventure. I have no excuse for this and I apologize unconditionally for the offense I caused...the pained look on Prince of Nothing's face and the desperation in his voice as time was running out just did something to tickle my funny bone. It was highly reminiscent of playing with my brother (back in the good ol' days before he went crazy off-the-rails with his mental issues and alcoholism...), and Prince (and the others) should take it as a compliment. It is rare that I laugh that hard or so long with anyone, except friends I feel comfortable with (and my own kids). 

[and, to be clear, it was not Prince who abandoned the table]

But...look here: they sussed out that the pit of wights was FULL OF WIGHTS even before they left the throne room. They MAPPED THE DUNGEON METICULOUSLY (up until the mines below) and knew EXACTLY WHERE THE WIGHTS WERE. And then they STILL went there (and got their asses beat). And THEN...with time running out and the desperation to find more treasure positively reeking off them...they WANTED TO GO BACK FOR MORE PUNISHMENT.  

How could I not chuckle?

This I chalk up to metagaming of the WRONG type. I encourage metagaming: if players know that fire kills trolls, they should not pretend otherwise when they encounter a band of regenerators. The players KNEW that the skeleton with the yellow-orange mold on it was a dangerous mold of SOME variety, and wisely avoided it. They should have probably taken the same tack with the wights, especially since they knew there were 16 of them, far more than they could probably turn. 

And, yet, they assumed that I (the DM) had put the wights there for a reason. That there must be some "great frigging treasure" in that pit. As if a lich lord wouldn't just have a pit of wights to throw people into for his own amusement. My adventures are designed to have a certain type of logic to them...they are not "funhouses." Why are the yetis there? Because the place has been abandoned and they've taken up residence (in the places they could reach). Why is there a forge of black flame? To craft the lich's weapons of war. Etc., etc. See, there is metagaming and then there is "over-thinking” (which might be defined as “trying to out-think/guess the DM”). I suppose that works sometimes but…well, I can’t say I recommend the practice.

But, again, the adventure is designed this way. The time pressure functioned great...the methodical, cautious approach started escaping their grasp as time wound down. As happens. A blizzard is a-coming folks...got to get the treasure out and get back to the boats!

Anyway...

Other teams (except the one that blundered into the dragons' den) escaped with far more loot...several in excess of 200K and the winning team with more than 300K. Then again, I wasn't running the adventure for all of them...would they have fared as well with me in the captain's chair? Hard to say. Prince & Co. took home some 88K which exceeded my home group by the value of one potion of heroism and a handful of silver...but they did it without losing a single PC to death and that is something.

Last thing I want to say about the tournament adventure (which most everyone I spoke with at Cauldron seemed to enjoy): every single monster in the adventure came direct from the 1E Monster Manual. Every single treasure in the adventure can be found in the pages of the 1E DMG. Every single spell-type trap (firetrap, glyph, etc.) is in the 1E Players Handbook.  No UA tricks, no Dragon Magazine articles, not even a Fiend Folio critter to be found...I wanted to make sure all the DMs could run the thing using nothing but the core books.

Because the core books have PLENTY of "good stuff" in 'em.

; )

All right. That's all I want to say on the tournament adventure. Thanks to everyone who gave it a go, and thanks especially to all the DMs that ran it...you folks were excellent!

Let Slip The Dogs Of War (Part II)

In which I continue to describe the games I ran at Cauldron 2025, spoiling secrets and providing insights into the mind of a geezer DM...

SATURDAY NIGHT BLOCK: Ship Of Fate

The rousing success of Caul’s Dark Citadel…as well as the final three runnings of the tourney module in Saturday Block II...led to dinner being a boisterous affair, especially at my table. Everyone at Cauldron was in a fine mood and, plied with copious amount of alcohol, a lot of money ended up being shucked out at the auction, with much backslapping, congratulating, and toasting of each other.

A lot of palinka. A lot of whisky.

Thus the set-up for the so-called “night block:” a 9pm to WHENEVER affair (no time limit). At Cauldron 2023 I had skipped this (to my later chagrin), instead unwinding and bantering a bit before calling it an early night. THIS year, I had originally left the slot open hoping to get into one of Prince’s epic night-festivals…and then he decided not to run a game in the block! “Sorry, man, there are games I want to play in,” is he wrote to me last month.

SO determined not to miss out, I decided I would be the one to fire up a big-ass, high level adventure into the wee hours. Enter Ship of Fate, a high level extravaganza I wrote for Prince’s NAP II contest (get it HERE if you like).

Ship of Fate is quite obviously inspired by (and heavily based on) Michael Moorcock’s Elric story Sailor on the Sea of Fate. If you haven’t read it…um, why not? Elric stories are pretty much required reading for high level AD&D play, especially Elric of Melnibone, Sailor, and Stormbringer. But, yeah, I know some people think D&D is supposed to top out around 7th level. *sigh*

Good read.

I digress…Ship of Fate is an adventure designed to be played by from four to 16 players, four of whom take the part of high-level lady and gents (the “Heroes”) and 12 of whom are mid (7th – 10th) level “Companions.” The idea being that each Hero has three Companions. The kicker is that all 16 of these characters were once actual player characters, played either by myself of by my friends…however, I’ll note that – with regard to the high-level guys – they’ve been considerably “toned down” from their original stature and abilities. *AHEM*

I have only had the chance to run Ship of Fate one time…for my home group…and we did not finish more than five or six encounters due to an abbreviated session. Alas, we never returned to it because, being a one-off with pre-gens, it held a lot less “spice” for us than using our regular, organically grown PCs; such is life in a living campaign. Because of this, I wasn’t exactly sure how the adventure would play out. Certainly it was much too big for a standard 4-hour time slot. But we were in NIGHT BLOCK, baby! There aren’t any rules! Go all night like when we were 14 and high on caffeinated drinks!

[it’s possible I was a little drunky when I decided to register this game, pre-Cauldron] 

So, unsure of how I was even going to seat 16 people around the table I’d been assigned, I found myself somewhat relieved when “only” nine people showed up to the game. And then while handing around the pre-gens I immediately lost one of the four “Heroes” (the 12th level fighter)…noooo!

[I might have been a little drunky…again]

Fortunately, Tom still had his 14th level fighter pre-gen from Settembrini’s earlier high-level game. I knocked two levels off, reduced the hit points to a reasonable amount (they were set something like 2 points below max), and axed a magic item or two, but most of the character was allowed to stay.

And we were off!  Just organizing such a group was a bit of an ordeal, but it wasn’t too long before they got it together and decided to send the thief into the first cavern and…

Oh, wait…what’s the point of the adventure?

So, in Ship of Fate the heroes are sailed across the Dunkle Zee…a kind of phantom ocean that connects the various planes of the multiverse…to an island nexus where two sibling wizards (brother and sister) are using a rift in the space-time fabric to drain power from all the planes in existence, gradually snuffing them out. Players are supposed to find the building at the center of the island, kill the wizards, and then fire the building using special magic firebrands designed for the purpose. The ship has a cargo hold full of gold for the players after success in their quest and the wizards themselves are likely to have treasure, too. However, they also have many minions and protectors.

SO…big ass building (like the length of three football fields). Players did spend a flare trying to burn the place down with the wizards in it, but the structure…a monstrous, twisted behemoth that looked something like an amalgamation of alien machine and melted giant humanoids…simply extinguished the flame itself. Which the players had been told it would do which is why they needed kill the wizards FIRST. Amateurs.

A couple entrances suggested themselves to the PCs…a large cave, overhung by vines OR a large stairway leading up. They sent the thief down into the cave where he was soon filled by needles from the needleman forest inhabiting the cavern. Retreating, the party had the wizard nuke the plants with a fireball before proceeding. Into the troglodyte caves.

Those proved nightmarish to try to map, let alone explore in a coherent fashion [it’s possible the players were a little drunky] and the group eventually decided to give it up and go up the grand staircase to the “main gate” (as they called it). At this point, James (the guy playing the 12th level cleric) gets a brilliant idea: “Why don’t I use a find the path spell to locate the wizards?” Can’t…the spell can’t target living beings.

“What about the nexus rift? We know it’s there…and the wizards are likely to be with it!” That seemed reasonable and the spell immediately starts pulling the cleric (who leads the party) the way of the shortest route to the object desired.

Which worked pretty well for a while, as it ignored or helped bypass several encounters, while revealing secret doors and hidden passages. Great stuff; great use of available resources! Plus, it lasted a good long time (12 turns!) meaning they were covering a LOT of ground. No sweat, guys, we got this!

Then it led them through the cavern of the shadow demons.

Mean.

Now, I'd guess there are a lot of us for whom the phrase "shadow demon" conjures to mind the little toadie/spy who follows Venger around the D&D cartoon like a whipped dog. Yeah, no. Shadow demons are highly intelligent, vicious 7+ hit die creatures that are 90% undetectable and can leap and claw and tear at opponents while also having the abilities to dowse lights (darkness 15' radius), cast fear, and magic jar opponents. In this particular instance (not a mandatory encounter, by the way...just the shortest path to the wizards!), it turned into a nightmare scenario for the PCs. Their lights were dowsed, and then the attacks from the shadow demons ended up preventing casters from turning on the lights: every time they lost initiative...or won by too low an initiative amount....they'd get attacked and have their spells interrupted. Fighters were swinging away in darkness and hitting their companions. Two characters blew their saves against fear attacks and fled into the darkness, never to be seen again (one of those blundered into a room full of spectres and was sucked dry in the darkness; I think the other just went to bed). 

They eventually managed to overcome the demons, but it was a brutal toll: only three PCs (all Heroes) had survived. Sonka (now playing Tom's fighter, as he decided to go to bed), Ollie (as Lucky the 12th level magic-user), and James continued on, the find the path spell still functioning. They made it to the nexus chamber, but no wizard was present (50% chance, and missed the roll). However, some minor exploring found her in her workroom, toiling away at constructing flesh golems, with three completed. No surprise, everyone attacked!

Again...pretty brutal encounter. The cleric was felled by a fistful of magic missiles, the wizard badly damaged while the fighter tried to fight his way through flesh golems and mirror images. Tired of having his spells interrupted, the wizard backed off to use his scroll on monster summoning VI, conjuring a pair of weretigers...who did not appear for a couple rounds. Meanwhile, the fighter was stunned with a power word and the flesh golems proceeded to curb stomp him in a fashion unseen in Germany for four score years.

[too soon?]

However, Ollie/Lucky managed to hold on and the were-tigers finally showed up. Something happened to neutralize Giz-Kala (though that part is hazy...perhaps yet another hold person spell?) and the golems bereft of an order-giver allowed the much reduced party to escape, the fighter left with three hit points to his name. 

Deciding "stealth" was now the order of the day, the two utilized a potion of polymorph and a polymorph self spell to change into rodents, with which they finished their exploration of the main chamber, were-tigers in tow. They found the other wizard, laying in a comatose torpor of slumber, and slit his throat. "Now how the hell do we get out of here?!" Neither had been mapping.

It was decided to risk teleporting to the exterior, despite having only observed the island terrain once. Fortunately, Lucky was high enough level to take the beefy fighter with him. The die roll was successful and they fired the dungeon from outside, the flames quickly consuming the structure, and declaring victory, agreeing to split the gold between them. The time was after 2:30am, the players still standing thanked me, and headed off to bed, as I cleaned the table and turned off the lights of the floor (we were the last group still going).

I did not bother to reveal how much treasure they'd left behind.

*****

SUNDAY BLOCK I: Ybarra Florin

Our final session of Cauldron, the "brunch block" took place only after breakfast and the award ceremony had been completed. Some of us (*ahem*) had continued to drink into the wee hours of the morning, by which I mean 5:50am. Given one hour sleep to work with I was...not in great shape.

Thus it was a good thing I chosen an easy adventure to run! The original idea had been to run my I3: Pharaoh re-work, Desert of Kartha, but it's not anywhere close to being finished, let alone prepped and cut to fit a four hour time block (I would have been running the thing with a few sketchy notes). So, realizing my ass would be dragging at the end of a long three days, I decided to go with something I've run several times before: Ybarra Florin.

Again, this NOT really a "Becker original." Kenneth St. Andre penned a short adventure called Tower of Yrkath Florn for the first edition of his Stormbringer RPG. It's a nice little introductory scenario, one I've run two or three times over the decades I've owned the game. About three years ago, I converted it to AD&D; but it's mostly unchanged in terms of layout and premise. Mostly.

A wealthy patron hires the party to go check out the ruins of a dead Melnibonean sorcerer, and bring back any relics you find. Of course, "Melnibonean" in my campaign world means "high elf," all of whom seem to have a Spanish bent to them (hence, the name change. Don't ask me why...).

[I'm not even the first one to do "Spanish elves;" see Aaron Allston's Principalities of Glantri]

The ruined tower is two levels of a once three-story structure that's been wrecked by an earthquake...in my world it's on the Olympic Peninsula, right off Dabob Bay near Quilcene. The St. Andre version of the adventure has a family of clackars...winged gorilla creatures...lairing in the lower portion of the dungeon. But, of course, AD&D doesn't have this monster...

[other than in the 1980 DDG with the Melnibonean Mythos, page 88: they have HD 8, 2x 1d12 damage claws (+rending), immunity to fear and surprise, etc., etc.]

...so I didn't something else for my conversion. Now, when I say "fur, feces, and feathers," does anything D&Dish spring to mind immediately? Of course it does.

I ran this adventure when we were introducing Maceo's younger brother, Winston, to the AD&D game. Of course, he was ripped to shreds. Later, their family took them to see the new Dungeons & Dragons movie and Winnie told his mom, "That's the thing that killed me! An owl bear! See I told you they were scary!"

ANYway, they're scary for adults players, too. Our group (another eight stalwart souls) brought not one but TWO paladins to the adventure. The first paladin was killed by the pair of juveniles in the first room of the main hall. As the rest of the party maneuvered to lure the creatures out into a killing area, the Papa Bear came out of a different door to investigate the sounds of battle (and smell of blood) that had disturbed its slumber. Things got very dicey for the group very fast, despite having a ranger who kept negating the "completely surprised" rolls of the party (without the ranger, it could've got real ugly...)

However, give bulk of the credit to Ludwig the magic-user for saving the party's bacon. Ludwig's pre-gen had a wand of wonder and he wasn't afraid to use it, luckily getting decent results throughout the session! A stinking cloud and failed saves from the 'bears allowed the party to move outside the tear gas and missile the critters to death before they had a chance to clear their nasal passages...a pretty fortunate outcome, all things considered.  After slaying the mother 'bear (combining a slow spell from the wand along with an insect swarm from Paul the druid), the party claim to the family's nest of eggs and young, all worth a pretty penny on the open (elven) market.

Then it was up to the second level and Old Ybarra's workroom, hidden behind a magical door. The door is unlocked but electrically jolts individuals crossing its threshold for some pretty gnarly damage; fortunately, it was Michal the (last) paladin who took the blast, thereby rendering the thing inert. Inside lurks a demon...the same creature that killed Ybarra two centuries before when an earthquake cracked the pentagram that contained it. For AD&D purposes, I used a Type II demon, which is about the right power level, despite being vulnerable to normal (iron) weapons, thanks to an excellent armor class and magic resistance. Using it was nice (it's been a while since I've dropped any demons in an adventure) and I should probably use them more often. In the end, it was defeated without inflicting a single casualty (although it did force both the paladin and druid to flee the tower in terror with its cause fear ability)...and while in retrospect it probably should have caused more casualties through the liberal use of teleport and gate, I will not blame my lack of tactical badassery on "going soft." The fact of the matter is: I forgot about these abilities.

One hour of sleep, remember?

SO...an easy adventure to run and only a light challenge (in my opinion) for the players, thanks to a little good fortune and a heavily hung over DM. And that's okay...the con had been a looong three days (not counting the 5,000 miles of air travel), and I was happy with how the session wrapped up. I even took the time to calc out the experience and treasure take for all surviving party members...per their request. It wasn't a bad haul for the ADDKON characters.

[to be continued...]

Also mean...

"Dear JB" Mailbag #44

Somewhere over the Arctic Circle, unable to sleep despite really trying (it was a comfortable ride, just had too many amps running through my veins), I decided I might as well put together a blog post from the ol' Reddit mail bag. Call this one "a brief interlude"....

Dear JB: 

I don’t intend this to be a rant, so I apologize if it becomes one.

Over the last 4 years I have been apart of 6 in-person tables. 2 as a dm, 4 as a player, and in all but one I find a constant trope is that players are loath to do anything that even resembles role playing, and I just want to know if this consistent with other peoples experiences.

In the games I dm’d I found myself initially asking players, “do you want to role play that for me. (ie almost guaranteed success) or do you want to roll for it?”

And I want to clarify, when I say role play, I don’t explicitly mean voices or pantomime. I mean describe what you are doing. How you are doing it. Your robbing a wallet, ok, are you going in two fingers and pulling slow, and you going for a, “hey buddy, give us a hug,” and pluck it, or do you want to walking into them and do a, “hey watch it!”

More often than now I’d be met with a slightly cringing, “does it matter? I rolled a 19.”

In the 4 games as a player I found it was pretty much the same. A dm dying for someone to interact beyond the mechanicals, but players focused on being uber efficient and getting thru as much as possible per session.

The only game that I found any different was in a store one shot that ended up going for 3 sessions where I was playing with 14/15 year old kids who were happy to full send it.

And to be honest, I was considering that dnd was maybe not for me before those shop sessions.

So I want to ask, is this just the way things are now? Or do you have a lot of role play at your tables? 

Is Role-Playing A Bit Of A Unicorn?

Dear Seeker of Unicorns:

No, role-playing is NOT “a bit of a unicorn.” But when it comes to the objectives of play, it IS a false god to worship…or even seek.

And, yes, if me saying that means “Dnd is maybe not for you” then, yeah, that’s what I mean.

However, I will elaborate.

ROLE-PLAYING HAPPENS. Happens all the time. Yes, yes, I’m talking about in D&D…even “old edition” D&D like the kind I play. It happens All The Time. Because the people playing the game…the players…are human beings and human beings anthropomorphize the shit out of things in the course of play. That’s a natural, human thing to do. And it includes talking in character or acting in character (and by “acting” I mean behaving, not acting like an actor on stage or screen).

D&D is a game. In the game, players face perilous dangers hoping for fame and fortune. We call these things “adventures.” The CHARACTER of a player, is the vehicle for the player to have those adventures in the imaginary game environment…the SETTING that is created by the DM. We call an ongoing series of such adventures a “campaign.” Got that?

SO, given that you have this particular vehicle (your elven thief or your human paladin or WHATever)…you use the capabilities of that vehicle for navigating the imaginary environment, i.e. “for playing the game.” And what is the game again? Oh, yeah: exploring an imaginary world, facing perilous dangers in the hope of winning fame and fortune.

What part of that requires describing in vivid detail how your thief picks a pocket? Or how they interact with a shopkeeper? Or even spending time and energy narrating the way you swing a sword?

NONE OF IT.

The players you complain about…the ones “focused on being uber efficient and getting thru as much as possible per session”…they are trying to play the game. They are trying to face perilous dangers and win fame and fortune. And they know their time is limited and they DO want to get through as much of the session as possible. Because That’s The Game. They are Playing A Game. They are ACTIVE. They are ENGAGED. They are not interested in performing theater for the table.

These are the kinds of players that a competent Dungeon Master WANTS at the table. They are PLAYING D&D THE RIGHT WAY, rather than screwing around like a bunch of goofball 14 and 15 year-olds.

If that’s not what you want out of the game…if what you want is performative collaborative storytelling…then, yeah, D&D may not be the right game for you.

But, of course, if that IS what you want from the game, you’re not alone out there. This is the major issue with the (majority) of the D&D community these days: they believe that this is what D&D is. They think this for a variety of reasons, mainly misinformation due to A) poorly written and/or unread instructions, B) lack of support/direction from the game’s publisher, and C) learning the game through on-line streaming “shows” like Critical Role and believing ‘O that’s what D&D looks like!’

Go join a theater troupe if you want to celebrate your improvisational acting skills.

Is role-playing a “unicorn?” I’ll say again: no. Role-playing happens all the time in a D&D game. Players internalize and identify with their character…they ACT (that is “behave”) as their character would, given the situation and circumstances of the game. They even “talk in character” on occasion, with or without changing the tone of their voice. They do this BECAUSE THEY ARE ENGAGED in the game…so engrossed that they tune out what is going on around them, narrowing their focus to the action at the table.

No flowery narration from the DM required. Just good, hard, solid D&D being thrown in their direction. Keeping the pressure on. So that they (the players) don’t have time to think about how silly the premise of such a game is, with its underground “dungeons” full of gold and goblins.

Yes, praying for “better role-playing” is praying to a false idol. What you should be seeking is better D&D. If you’re the DM, the way you control that is by world-building and running a tight ship of challenging – yet rewarding – scenarios. But if that’s not your bag…well, you can always play with the goofball kids at the shop, I guess. They seem to be on the same page you are.

Sincerely,

JB