D is for Dungeon

[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]

D is for Dungeon...specifically dungeon design.

The "dungeon" is (as one might expect) a rather important concept in a game called Dungeons & Dragons. Gygax's glossary in the DMG provides us with the following definition:

Dungeon -- A generic term for any castle, location, or ruin that serves as the site of an underground adventure.

Okay, straightforward enough. Or is it? 

The thing is this whole idea...this whole concept, the premise on which the game is built...is about as clear as mud. We are told in the PHB that "individual adventuring usually takes place in an underworld dungeon setting" until 

"play gradually expands to encompass other such dungeons, town and city activities, wilderness explorations, and journeys into other dimensions, planes, times, worlds, and so forth."

However, when it comes to the three types of adventures described in the PHB (p.101) between dungeons, wilderness, and city and town adventures

"Adventures into the underworld mazes are the most popular."

The reason the word dungeon is central in the game's title is because exploring dungeons is the most elementary part of game play. It is the reason the players are here...the reason they're willing to work together, cooperatively, towards a common objective. The dungeon...an underworld death trap filled with dangerous monsters and monstrous dangers while tempting players with the promise of fame and fortune...is the draw. When we say, D&D is a game of adventure, the DUNGEON is the location where that adventure takes place. For the most part (we'll get to the caveats in a bit).

Which is why it's so unfortunate that the AD&D books provide ALMOST ZERO INFORMATION ON HOW TO BUILD OR DESIGN A DUNGEON.

Unfortunate, I say, but true. A gross oversight on the part of the author, and one I didn't even realize till a few years ago, when I was writing a series of posts comparing the DMGs of various editions. None of them are "good" when it comes to this topic...in fact, "terrible" would be a more apt description. But it took me years to notice this lack of information because I learned the basics of how to design dungeons decades before...from Tom Moldvay.

Moldvay's Basic Dungeons & Dragons Rulebook (published in 1981...two years after the DMG) gives a pretty similar definition of the word "dungeon:" a place underground and often among ruins, where characters adventure. However, unlike Gygax's DMG, Moldvay outlines a step-by-step process for designing an adventure...in two pages, no less! His system, while simple, provides the foundational building blocks of design:

Step 1: Choose A Scenario. Moldvay calls this the "background theme or idea which ties the dungeon together," and notes that a "good scenario always gives the players a reason for adventuring." 

Step 2: Decide On A Setting. This is the actual location where the scenario takes place, the "dungeon" in question. Examples of adventure sites include castles, caverns, crypts, temples, mines, stronghold, towns, and towers...most any fixed location can serve as an adventure site, i.e. a "dungeon." But regardless, they all have in common the following elements:

- removed from "normal" (game) civilization

- stocked with danger

- contain the promise of reward

Step 3: Decide On Special Monsters. The D&D game, in all its editions, thrives on conflict, and requires adversaries for the players to struggle against. The scenario and setting suggests monstrous opponents that players can expect to encounter while exploring the dungeon.

Step 4: Draw The Dungeon Map. The first practical step (everything up till now has been thought exercise and/or brainstorming). You draw a map of the area the players intend to explore. For me, this is the most difficult part of dungeon design, as I tend to be a bit hard on myself. I often pull blueprints of actual buildings and cave complexes to use as templates, but I also steal maps from old adventures and re-work/re-purpose them. 

Good maps have sensible layouts, often with multiple means of ingress and exit, multiple levels (both up and down) with more than one way to access each, and enough asymmetry of design to be interesting. Maps for less experienced (generally lower level) players should be easier to map than those you design for experienced veterans, because players tend to want to make sketches during play to aid in their explorations. Making a nightmare labyrinth of non-Euclidean angles and shifting walls is going to be hard on players with fewer resources...and "actual play experience" is one of those resources.

In addition to being clear and legible enough for YOU, the DM, to read, it should have a number of encounter areas...rooms, chambers, special points on the map...that you should meticulously label with a numerical key. I strongly advise using simple numbering for these encounters, not an alphabetical key or (Lord no) Roman numerals.

Step 5: Stock The Dungeon. Now that you have the map for your dungeon (based on your scenario and setting you've chosen for that scenario), you key the dungeon with your notes of what will be found at each and every encounter area. This is the "meat" of dungeon design...the map is just the skeleton, and without the guts and muscle and sinew, it's not yet an adventure proper.

Moldvay identifies four forms of "contents" for encounter areas, and I find these useful categories for design. ALSO, while I don't determine contents of encounter areas randomly (as Moldvay suggests), I do place them in the same proportions given by his random chart:

• Monster (1-in-3 encounter areas): these are NPCs that are likely to be antagonistic towards exploring adventurers and who are combat-worthy and inclined to fight if provoked.
• Trap (1-in-6 encounter areas): these are obstacles and hazards designed to damage, delay, confuse, or inconvenience players.
• "Special" (1-in-6 encounter areas): these are anything not a "trap" or straightforward "monster." It could be a special (modified or non-book) monster, a magical effect of some kind (healing pools, teleportation gates, magic mouths, etc.) non-hostile NPCs (hostages that might be rescued or hired to join the group), riddles and tricks, etc.
• Empty (1-in-3 encounter areas): an encounter area devoid of Monsters, Traps, and Specials. It does not mean a literally "empty" chamber; it can still invite interaction (players may search it for traps, secret doors, etc.), and still take real game time from players determined to give it a thorough going over. But these areas are necessary places of respite from the stresses and danger of the dungeon, and I don't recommend going without.

It should be understood that these proportions are guidelines, not hard/fast rules. That being said, I always try to hew close to these proportions as they give a nice rhythm of play in practice. Since you'll only get perfect proportionality in dungeon designs that feature encounter areas in multiples of six, some rounding often occurs. For me, I tend to round the number of "empty" and "trap" areas DOWN while rounding "monster" and "special" encounter areas UP.

For example: given a 20 encounter area, I'd go with seven monsters, four specials, three traps, and six empties.

Treasure, of course, is equally important to stocking as danger, and as with types of encounter areas Moldvay's suggestions for treasure proportions aren't terrible (1-in-2 for monster encounters, 1-in-3 for trap encounters, 1-in-6 for empty encounters). Along with the proportion of encounter types, this indicates that slightly fewer than one-third of all encounter areas will have SOME sort of treasure present. For me, I prefer a slightly higher presence of treasure...something closer to 40+%, but this varies based on scenario and setting.

[please keep in mind that "treasure" takes many forms. If prisoners can be rescued for a reward, they are treasure. If the local magistrate has put a bounty on bugbear scalps, then bugbears become treasure. Etc. We are not just talking bags of gold and silver]

For AD&D, a game of adventure (in which players brave danger in pursuit of reward), treasure is the primary motivator, the "spur" that drives players to action. A steady drip-drip of treasure with the occasional discovery of a large cache, is the primary formula that keeps players on the move and willing to engage and struggle with the challenges of the dungeon environment.

At this point, we are done with Moldvay, and can speak to the concept of scale.

Each dungeon should be designed for a particular level of party; this is what I refer to as its "scale." Actually, it may be more precise to say a particular experience point total of individual player character. Often, you'll see an adventure designated as being for a specific level range...an adventure for levels 4th-6th, for example. They might as well say "for characters of roughly 22,000 x.p." which would yield PCs in the given level range (paladins and multi-class PCs being at the low end, druids and thieves at the high). Everything in the dungeon is scaled off this level range: the types of monsters used, the deadliness of traps present, and...most certainly...the amount of treasure to be found.

Scale is important. Reward should be commensurate with the degree of challenge faced by the players: too much treasure for too little challenge is too easy and leads to boredom and disenchantment, while too little treasure for too much challenge leads to frustration and resentment; both are undesirable. Your campaign will have adventure sites (i.e. "dungeons") scaled to various levels...some low-level, some high...but you must strive to be consistent with your scales. It is fine for high level adventurers to take on a low-level dungeon, wiping it out 'on a lark.' But they should find the takings therein to be of dubious value and not worth the energy expended. Likewise, it is just dandy to have high level "killer" dungeons in your game that players should (rightly) shun until they feel strong enough to tackle them...they provide incentives for their ambition with the promise of rich reward.

In practice, I've found that a 30 encounter adventure should yield (in total) treasure sufficient to advance PCs of the designated number and experience range one level. For determination of gold piece value needed, I always use the fighter advancement table.

For example: a 30 encounter dungeon scaled for 5 characters of levels 5th-7th should yield a total treasure of roughly 175,000 gold pieces in value. With regard to magic items, I look at their gold piece (i.e. sale) value for this calculation.

Dungeon of fewer or more encounter levels get proportionally less or more treasure. For example, one with 15 encounters would have only HALF the treasure (in gold piece value) needed to advance the party one level. Dungeons with 60 encounters would give players enough x.p. (in gold) to achieve TWO levels...which is probably not the same as just doubling the treasure amount. If that dungeon for five PCs of level 5th-7th had 60 encounters, it would need 450,000 g.p. because the amount of x.p. needed to get one fighter from 6th level to 8th is 90K, not 60K. 

Why do I scale based on 30 encounter areas? Time...real world, actual time. It takes time for players to play the game...to explore dungeons, to participate in combats. In practice, I find a rate of three to five encounters per solid hour of play to be average, with about 12 encounters being the practical (max) upper limit for a four hour play session (9-11 being more usual). Smaller groups of players can be more agile in their decision making, but larger groups of players have more resources to throw at encounters...speed at which players get through a dungeon is tied largely to experience (with the game) and group dynamics (leadership, organization). Also, DMs should understand that the longer a session goes on, the more resources are expended by the players, the fewer resources they have at their disposal, and the slower and more cautious they become.

So 30 encounter areas can take three to five game sessions to fully explore (depending on the quality of your players and the length of your game sessions). This could be a month or more of play depending on how often you run games (we'll talk scheduling in a later installment). And a couple more things to keep in mind:

1. It is rare for player to recover every last scrap of treasure from a dungeon. More than just "missing" things, players will tend to abandon a dungeon for greener pastures at some point...mainly because it feels "picked over" with too much challenge for too little reward remaining. And that's okay! We want players to have agency and letting them walk is a part of the AD&D game.
2. We (Dungeon Masters) want players to advance in level. It is an imperative for our game. Leveling up allows designers to expand the scope of what we do, breaking out bigger challenges, more ferocious monsters, more extravagant treasures. Allowing the PCs to level expands what we, DMs, can do with the game.

As far as scaling challenges/danger to players, this is as much an art form (refined in practice) as the distribution of treasure. With regard to traps and hazards, are you considering the player characters' ability to circumvent these things? It's not really appropriate to include half a dozen poison encounters when the party cleric is under 7th level (and thus has no access to neutralize poison). Stone to flesh is a spell only available to magic-users of 12th level so petrifaction becomes, effectively, a death sentence for mid-level parties...these are things to consider. Consider also potential hit points of PCs when assigning damage for traps: A 50' pit drop may not kill a 6th level fighter, but it can deplete hit points enough that another fight or two will finish the poor brute; damage accumulates over time, after all.

With regard to monsters and their placement, these will largely be determined by the scenario and setting you chose at the beginning. If the adventure involves invading a stone giant stronghold, the opponents will probably be stone giants (duh) and their pets and allies. This by itself should suggest the proper scale of the dungeon you're designing. It might sound cool to have the players sneak into the fortress of a lich or demon lord, but they're not going to be doing that before they hit double-digits in terms of level!

If you review the Dungeon Random Monster Level Determination Matrix on page 174 of the DMG, you'll see that every dungeon level has a particular range of "monster levels" (designated as 1-10, or I-X). When considering the scale of a dungeon, I use "equivalent level of the dungeon" the same as the average PC level of the adventure I'm designing. Thus, an adventure for 7th level PCs would see the bulk of their monster encounters come from charts IV-VI, with only few encounters being outside this range (and with reduced or increased numbers, depending on whether or not you're talking greater or lesser charts). Treasure types of monsters (given in the Monster Manual) can be key indicators for treasure distribution (both placement and amounts), and can serve as 'red flags' to the beginning dungeon designer.

[if I find myself creating a "slime themed" dungeon with all the monsters being puddings, jellies, and oozes, I'm going to have a pretty hard time justifying much in the way of treasure placement, for example]

These are the nuts-and-bolts of dungeon design, the elementary building block that is the foundation of the Dungeons & Dragons game. There are, of course, other types of adventure, but exploration of dangerous sites in pursuit of treasure is the MAIN form that game play takes in AD&D. Even the old Dragonlance modules, heavily railroaded story acs that they were, made sure to include at least one dungeon in each of their 14 published adventures. If you don't like exploring dungeon, well, there are a LOT of other RPGs on the market that are not called Dungeons & Dragons. 

We'll get into other types of adventures in a later post.

C is for Campaign

[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]

C is for Campaign...the "world" of every Dungeon Master. Now that we have both our approach to the game in mind, and an array of instructional texts, we can dig into campaign creation and maintenance...the main work of any DM running a game.

Of course, first we'll have to unpack the word "campaign" so that we understand what is meant by the term.  Most people involved in the hobby these days (those that play 5E) consider a campaign to be a single story arc played out by a specific group of characters with a specific end goal/result in mind. Something like a television series in which each game session stands for one episode, leading to a culminating "finale."

That's not how we use the term in AD&D.

The glossary of the DMG states the following:

Campaign -- General term referring to one DM's adventures as a whole rather than individually. An ongoing series of games based upon a created milieu.

["milieu" being defined (later) in the DMG as 'an unique game setting embodying numerous possible variables in its creation, i.e. the "world" in which adventures take place']

Thus a "campaign" encompasses ALL the adventures taking place on a specific world created and run by a particular Dungeon Master. An AD&D player does not say "Yeah, we're playing Storm King's Thunder" or "Yeah, we just finished Curse of Strahd." Instead, an AD&D player might say, "I'm a regular player in JB's campaign," or "I play in Julie's campaign on Wednesdays, but we also do a once a month game in Tom's campaign."

It is important to understand this distinction. The Temple of Elemental Evil (for AD&D) was not a "campaign," neither was Gygax's GDQ series (Against the Spider Queen). the Slaver series, nor Saltmarsh. All these were modular adventures that a DM could include in their game world...they did not represent the beginning of a campaign, nor its end. A Dungeon Master's campaign is a persistent world that players will enter (via their characters) in order to participate in adventures.

The actual (non-D&D) definition of the term campaign is:

an organized course of action to achieve a goal

With examples provided such as military campaigns, political campaigns, and advertising campaigns. Viewing these examples, it is understandable (especially given WotC's commercial strategy w.r.t. selling product) that modern D&D players believe a packaged story, like Hoard of the Dragon Queen, provides a discreet "campaign" experience. After all, it has an organized series of game sessions with an achievable goal (the story ending of the adventure). Meanwhile AD&D's open-ended "eternal play" appears to have no goal whatsoever.

And yet it does. The AD&D campaign "goal" is the achievement of power and prestige by the players, such that they have a dramatic impact (or leave a mark) on the world created by the DM. The "organized course of action" is the series of adventures that lead to that goal: wealth and power (in the form of experience points). The Dungeon Master's role is in providing that organized structure...the challenges the players face, the rewards the players reap...in pursuit of their goal.

This is not Legends & Lattes that we are playing.

So it is that the campaign building advice in the DMG (really "world building" advice) comes into focus for the prospective Dungeon Master. DMs are advised to start small (with friendly village and a local dungeon to explore) because the task of building a world takes time and effort, and there is no need to overwhelm either the players or the DM right from the beginning.  Deciding to be an AD&D Dungeon Master means committing to the long haul. Yes, you can play one-offs and Saturday Night Specials and convention games with pre-generated characters, but this is hardly the means to achieve true satisfaction.  It does not play to the STRENGTH of the AD&D game, which is designed specifically with long-term campaign play in mind.

The world should be persistent. The players and dungeons...those things are transitory and mercurial.

Thus, the beginning: once you've decided that you want to be an Advanced Dungeons & Dragons DM, you start your vocation with the creation of your world. It need not be created from whole cloth...you can use local geography or the setting of your favorite fantasy franchise or a historic place and time from the real world as your inspiration. The broad strokes are largely unimportant at the beginning...instead your players will be focused on what their 1st level character can do, and how they can best work with their teammates towards their common goal of survival and profit in adventurous (i.e. dangerous yet rewarding) undertakings.  When a player sits down to play, they are not interested in the political landscape or historical timeline of your imaginary world...what they WANT to know is "where can I find some treasure?"

Because that's the game. 

Everything else comes after. You, O DM, have a triple responsibility on your plate, which should be understood from the moment you pick up your DMG and say, "I'm starting a campaign." Those three duties are as follow:

#1 Running the game at the table

#2 Preparing adventures for the players

#3 Building the world in which the adventures take place

All three of which (together) constitute your campaign. If you are shirking any of these three things, your campaign will flounder and die. Your reputation as a Dungeon Master (whether or not such a thing concerns you) is based on these three elements...be assured that players will judge you on each of these, although that judgment will not necessarily be harsh. After all, it is difficult to harshly judge something you yourself are unwilling to do.

["Oh, yeah, Lucy's campaign is a really intense with all cool stuff going on in the background, but she doesn't have a great grasp of the rules." "Well, Bill, is GREAT at running the game and does all these cool voices for the NPCs and stuff, but his dungeons are all these five-room affairs with almost no treasure...what's up with that?"]

As an AD&D Dungeon Master, you own your campaign...the good and the bad. This ownership gives you tremendous power: the amount of care and work you put into it is directly on YOU and, thus, completely under your control.  You can put in as much time and effort as you can when it comes to learning the rules, designing your adventures, building up the world. Yes, you start small (just as Gygax suggests), but over time, little by little, the world of your campaign grows and expands, with more things for players to explore, more things with which players can interact. Just as the experience of running the game makes you more proficient at running the game, just as writing adventures gives you more practice for future adventures, time and effort lumped on top of itself creates something that you can...eventually...look at and say, wow.

Your campaign is not about the players or their characters. It exists INDEPENDENT of players and characters. Players join and leave campaigns...for all sorts of reasons. Characters die or retire or disappear when their players leave. What remains is the campaign that YOU, O Great and Powerful Dungeon Master, have created.

And unlike the approach of 5E Dungeon Masters, there is no reason to "start" and "stop" a campaign. The campaign need not have an end point at all...why throw out all the work you've done? Want a new city or country or dungeon? Insert it. Want a new race to be available to the players? Have them discover it (look at Gygax's introduction of the Drow and Svirfneblin). Don't like a race or monster that's already in the campaign? Have a mysterious plague wipe them all out. Throw fiery mountains at parts of the world you dislike (just like Dragonlance's "Cataclysm," or Alphaks's meteor in the Mystara setting). Have other locations mysteriously appear out of interdimensional gates like Rifts's Atlantis or out of magical mists like Shangri-La and Brigadoon. 

The campaign is YOUR world. Do with it as you want. Erase parts of the map and re-draw them. O you want to throw down the Tomb of Horrors now that your players' characters are high level? Do so. Why haven't they heard rumors of Acerack before now? Because his tomb is off in the wilderness and news travels slowly in a horse-riding culture, unless you happen to live in the vicinity of the area in question. Have a wandering traveller appear with rumors and legends from far off lands and faraway places.  Have the PCs take a ship to get there. Jeez, pal, put those naval rules to the test!

Once you start seeing the campaign as yours...as a part and extension of yourself, utterly un-beholden to players and their PCs...it gives you an amazing amount of freedom. Your campaign becomes perpetual...it exists so long as YOU exist...whether you are running it Saturday night or not. 

It took me a long time to figure this out. These days, every game of AD&D I run are set in my campaign. Doesn't matter whether I am running an adventure for strangers at a convention, or for my "regulars" (my kids and their friends). Every adventure I create, every game-able situation I imagine, gets placed in my campaign world, making for a richer and richer tapestry with time. You can share your campaign with another DM...I've done this before and, in fact, have an agreement with my son that he can share my world when he is DMing. You can even publish your campaign notes and adventures like Gygax did with his World of Greyhawk. But doing so doesn't make it any less yours.  Even if you set it down for a few months (or years!), you can always pick it up again, right where you left off.

You are your campaign. Give it the same respect you give yourself.

B is for Books

[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]

B is for Books...specifically the books you need to run the game.

AD&D is a game and, as with any game, it has instructions that explain how to play. Yes, I'm sure that seems elementary, but you'd be amazed to see how many people post on Reddit the question "how do I learn to play Dungeons & Dragons?"

How indeed.

If you've played D&D before...any version of it...you can probably jump right in to the core instruction manuals (we'll get to those in a moment). If you know nothing (or next to nothing) about the game, I strongly suggest picking up a copy of the D&D Basic Set Rulebook (a 64 manual penned by Tom Moldvay, available in PDF form for $4.99) and read that first. It is a quick read and excellent overview of the basic principles of the D&D game with entertaining (and fairly spot on) examples of game play. Reading this first will give you a basic lexicon for understanding the Advanced version of the game.

Okay...you have the basics under your belt? Let's get to it.

To play AD&D you need a total of THREE books, although I use (and generally recommend) five. The core instruction manuals are:

The Players Handbook

The Dungeon Masters Guide

The Monster Manual

Armed with these three books, you can play AD&D for literal YEARS. Possibly decades. All the instructions you need are included in these books.  Each is available in both print and PDF form, and while the PDFs will only cost you $9.99 each, I'd save up for the hardcovers...you'll want them for use at the table. Electronic devices can be terribly distracting.

The other (optional) two books I suggest purchasing are:

The Fiend Folio

The Monster Manual II

These additional tomes are bestiaries, like the Monster Manual, providing additional monsters for your campaign, many of which are strange, horrific, or extra-planar in nature. The MMII, especially, contains many monsters first presented in "classic" TSR adventure modules, as well as a number of "normal sized" critters (when you want stats for a rattlesnake instead of a GIANT rattlesnake). Both of these books provide expanded random encounter tables that include the new inventory, and the MMII has several additional tables (including expanded ability scores) which render the need for books like Deities & Demigods/Legends & Lore obsolete.

[the procedure given for the dracolisk's gaze attack in MMII can also be useful for other gaze attack monsters, like the medusa and basilisk of the original Monster Manual]

There are many other books published for AD&D, including the aforementioned DDG/LL (the same book, just published twice under different titles), the Unearthed Arcana, Oriental Adventures, the Manual of the Planes, the Dungeoneer's Survival Guide, and the Wilderness Survival Guide. None of these are necessary to play AD&D, most have few new rules or procedures, and many of these new rules/procedures are decidedly detrimental/harmful to the game if adopted. When preparing to run your AD&D game, I would steer well clear of these, only picking them up later as curiosities to (occasionally) mine for idea.

Of the "core books," you should begin with the PHB. It describes the basics of character creation and provides all the information a player might need to know. I mean that quite literally. You will not find (for example) combat tables or saving throw matrices in the PHB, but in actual play these target numbers are generally given by the Dungeon Master. On the other hand, players need to be aware of their own skill percentages (for thieves) or casting times (for spell users) in order to make informed choices regarding actions...these you WILL find in the PHB, along with descriptions of each class and race's capabilities.

Read the PHB up to the beginning of the magic section (page 43), and then read the introduction to each of the four spell casting types (cleric, druid, magic-user, and illusionist). Glance through the various spells, but do not bother reading them in total at this point...instead skip to the section SPELL CASTING (on page 100) and continue from there, all the way to the appendices. Pay especial note to the SUCCESSFUL ADVENTURES section (pages 107-109) which is essential reading for all perspective players and which negates the need for any so-called "Session Zero."

There are five appendices in the PHB, only three of which are very useful: these would be Appendix I (Psionics), Appendix II (Bards), and Appendix IV (Known Planes of Existence). While these are technically "optional" (it is an individual DM's purview whether or not they are acceptable to the game), the AD&D game assumes their presence...many iconic monsters will be lesser threats without Psionics, and if your game lacks interplanar excursions, you might as well be playing Basic D&D. As for bards, I find the class in this form to be a quite entertaining and useful addition to the classes already presented. That being said, all three of these things are best incorporated AFTER your game has been up-and-running for a few months.

Individual spells will be read and studied as needed.

Having absorbed the information in the PHB, you can now begin your study of the DMG, perhaps pausing first to browse the various creatures of the Monster Manual (it doesn't help to read about the challenges of employing a lizard man or the structural damage inflicted by a stone giant if you are unfamiliar with these creatures). You should immediate note several important things about the DMG:

1. The DMG is structured so that its sections parallel the PHB...they are meant to be read side-by-side, in tandem, with the DMG elaborating on the information already presented.
2. The DMG contains an extensive index that is applicable to both the PHB and the DMG (DMG references are always listed first, in boldface). This index will be a lifesaver when it comes to learning the system...and in actual play...until you've become familiar with where all the various bits and bobs are located in the books.
3. The DMG contains a detailed glossary that provides definitions of many of the author's obscure references and abbreviations, not to mention specific game terms. This, too, is an invaluable aid in learning the system.

Much of what you will find in the DMG should feel very similar to the systems you're already familiar with (either from reading the Basic D&D rulebook, or from delving into other editions of the game). Much of the information within the DMG will only become truly useful as your game develops over time: you will not need information on hiring armies, building castles, and traveling to other planes when you first start your AD&D game...and God help your players if you feel the need to break out the disease and parasitic infection charts right from the get-go!

What you WILL need to run your AD&D game are the following:

• a comprehensive view of character creation (pages 11-13). Pick ONE method of generating ability scores (I've found Method I is simplest and yields the best results), and pay attention to height & weight (tables actually given on page 102) and age. You might also want to read Gygax's essay on page 21 to forestall players wanting "odd" characters of the kind found in later editions of D&D
• a full understanding of armor as it relates to encumbrance, movement, and combat (pages 27-28)
• an understanding of TIME in the game (pages 37-38)
• acquisition, recovery, and casting of spells (pages 38-40); as with the PHB, spell explanations (elaborations on certain PHB spells) will be reviewed as needed
• certain dungeon procedures related to sight and hearing (pages 59-60)
• comprehensive understanding of COMBAT procedures (pages 61-82); skip the insanity parts
• comprehensive understanding of EXPERIENCE procedures (pages 84-86); while not explicit in the DMG, I STRONGLY recommend dividing treasure x.p. evenly between surviving party members, as outlined in Moldvay.
• you should read with serious attention Gygax's notes on the CAMPAIGN (pages 86-100). Of special note are his essays on monster placement (pages 90-91), treasure placement (91-93), first dungeon adventure (96), dungeon procedures with regard to traps and doors (97), and the example of play (pages 97-100). 
• a good understanding of how to run NPCs, including monsters, as given in pages 102-105. Pay attention to prices given for NPC spell-casters (103-104), as this will be your guideline for players who want to pay for healing or curse removal.
• a solid understanding of the USE OF MAGIC ITEMS (page 115); please note that this section also contains very important information on energy (level) draining monsters.
• a 100% understanding of how to read the magic item tables that begin on page 121, especially the difference between experience point value and GP sale value (please also review the notes that follow the scroll table, and the asterisked note that follows the rods, staves, and wands table). Each specific section of the magic items gives an overview of its particular category (potions, rings, armor, etc.) and these overviews should be studied and understood. Individual magic item descriptions can be reviewed as needed.

Following this we come to the various appendices of the DMG which, as with the PHB, should be considered mostly optional. Yes, even the wandering monster charts are only guidelines...DMs can (and probably should) create their own random encounter charts based on their personal setting and design; however, these are good places to start.  There are a total of 16 appendices in the DMG (depending on the printing you have...the first printing only included 14, excluding Appendix O and Appendix P). Of these, the ones you will find most immediately useful include:

• Appendix C (random monster encounter charts)...for wandering monster procedures
• Appendix E (alphabetical monster listing)...for experience point value of Monster Manual creatures
• Appendix O (encumbrance of standard items)...the text herein is extremely useful, in addition to the table itself

Everything else is only incidentally helpful and/or useful, with much of it being simply inspirational.  The oft cited Appendix N, for example, provides stories and books that allow one to see the genesis of the various ideas and concepts found in AD&D, but will tell you nothing about how to run the game. For a far better insight into the author's vision (and, in my experience, how the game can look in play) I'd suggest reading Gygax's own novels Greyhawk: Saga of Old City and (more importantly) Greyhawk: Artifact of Evil. Neither fall into the category of "quality literature," but...as stated in the previous post...Dungeons & Dragons is not a 'storytelling' game.

A is for Adventure

Yes, indeed....another April A to Z blogging challenge. Almost missed this year as it was completely off my radar. But reading Tim's blog this morning reminded me of it (even though he's abstaining this season), and gave me an idea for a theme as well: specifically, Advanced Dungeons & Dragons, a subject I spend an inordinate amount of time combing the internet and yet cannot find enough content for. At least, quality content.

For the month of April 2026, I'm going to endeavor to change that. Specifically, I'm going to try (in 26 blog posts) to give people a crash course in the AD&D (first edition) game...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.

Let's get down to it.

A is for Adventure...the whole reason people should play Advanced Dungeons & Dragons.

I've written the words many times over the years: AD&D is a game of fantasy adventure. It is one of the hardest things to explain to people who have been brought up on later editions of the game. The instructional language in the books would have you believe that the game is about "telling stories" or "story creation," which was most certainly untrue in the early days of the hobby and is largely untrue even today.

And I don't mean lipservice adventure. Ask a modern day player about D&D and they MIGHT say "yes, we are telling stories about 'adventurers' that go on fantastical adventures."  No, that's not what I mean. If I meant that, I'd say that: that "adventuring characters" are the premise for a storytelling game. 

"Yeah, we tell stories...stories about adventure." No.

A game of AD&D is a game of adventure. You have an adventure. The players participate in the adventure. That IS the game. 

The character that the player uses to participate in the game is NOTHING. It is MEANINGLESS. It is the vehicle for the player's interaction with the game world. It is not a part to be acted by the player, like in a play. It is not a fictional being that must be portrayed and developed with issues and storylines begging for resolution. None of that.

When we play AD&D we are not participating in a literary exercise. We are not engaging in performance.

The character is a means to an end...it is a tool that gives the player the ability to interact with the mechanics of the game and imaginary environment we call the "game world." It is NECESSARY to have a character, because the character (in addition to being a bunch of numbers that signify in-game effectiveness for rule interaction) is designed to be an effective method of survival in a (by design) dangerous game environment. Wizards. Warriors. Etc.

But make no mistake: the character is just a vehicle for interaction. Here is an example that (I hope) describes my approach to the game:

I roll a set of ability scores. I decide I would like to play a particular character type...let's say a half-orc fighter...and find that I have the correct scores to do so. I note that I am a half-orc fighter, I purchase my equipment (based on randomly determined starting gold), I choose an "alignment," (if playing in a campaign that uses such), and sit down at the table to play.

When the DM presents a situation to me...whether it is a sudden combat with goblins, a roadside encounter with dwarvish pilgrims, a chamber with an unguarded statue of gold that might be worth some coin, or whatever...I say to myself:

Given that I am a half-orc fighter (of alignment "x") in this particular situation, what do I do? What actions do I take?

Now some might say, 'Wait! Wait! You're just playing a character! You ARE trying to put yourself in the fictional shoes of this fictional being, just like an actor playing a role on stage!'

To which I say: NO. I am me (JB) taking actions that I (JB) want to take...in full knowledge and understanding that we are playing a game...given that my capabilities are determined by the character I am using.

My half-orc is a stout fighter. He can take some punishment and dish it out. This informs and influences how I play the game...I can't use magic spells to impact the world, for example. If I was playing an elven wizard, my options would be different.

The character is UNIMPORTANT. Characters DIE...by design. The game is DESIGNED to be challenging and the risk to one's fictional playing piece (i.e. the character) can be DEATH. Fortunately, you can always create another character and continue playing. 

Because this is a game we are playing, not a story we are telling.

WHY? Why do we want to play a game of "adventure?"

Leaving aside the usual reasons that fall under the category of "fun with friends," adventure...i.e. 'pulse-pounding excitement'...is not something people get to experience every day. Certainly not in cooperation with each other. USUALLY, to get that kind of action, a person has to be part of a sports team (not possible for many folks), OR go to war (undesirable for a LOT of folks). With AD&D you can experience adventure (dangerous challenges) with friends (AD&D is cooperative by design) in a SAFE environment (no one's really getting killed, and if you pull a muscle, you're probably playing the game wrong).  You do not need to be of a certain age, gender, fitness level, or socio-economic class to engage in a game of AD&D. You only need to be able to read, write, and roll dice...a pretty low barrier of entry.

So that's where we start: with the correct approach to AD&D as a game. It is important we have a solid understanding of the hobby with which we're engaged, because everything else will be built on that foundation. A lot of time and effort goes into running an AD&D game, and we don't want it collapsing due to false pretenses and misaligned expectations.

This is the beginning.

2nd Edition: The Birth Of Customization

Had a reader post on an old post of mine, asking if...with regard to starting a D&D campaign focused on adventure gaming...I would recommend "hacking" 2E (a system the commenter is familiar with) or instead learning 1E. After all, it's not much more than replacing 2E's advancement system with a "gold for x.p." model, right?

Wrong.

2nd Edition AD&D is the birthplace of what I call the customization (or "build") culture. 2E is the first edition of AD&D to support...through its systems...the ability to generate unique and divergent characters. These systems include weapon specialization, schools of magic, priests domains, and rogues' allocation of "skill percentage" points, not to mention non-weapon proficiencies (i.e. skills). Even before the advent of "kits" and the Players Options books (what some refer to as "AD&D 2.5"), 2nd edition was providing players with methods of building characters that were special. Even the methods of ability score generation offered a primitive point allocation variant ("Method VI" of the 2E PHB).

Contrast that with first edition AD&D, in which character creation is a matter of rolling and placing one's ability scores, picking a class-race combination for a set of options, and then buying equipment, generally based on the character's (limited) number of weapon proficiencies. That's it, as far as "choice" goes. Heck, even the spells in a magic-user's spellbook are randomly generated. Pretty quick set-up to get down to play, all things considered.

Why is 2E's customization bad? That's the question that all 2E (and later edition) aficionados are bound to ask. Isn't the ability to create ultra-specific, unique characters a "good" thing? Isn't variety the "spice of life?" Don't we want to give players MORE options, not less? Didn't YOU, JB, say that one of the problems with running a BASIC D&D system over an Advanced one was the LACK of variety for sustaining long-term play interest?

Here's the skinny:

When I sit down to run a game of Dungeons & Dragons, I want the players focused and engaged on the task at hand...specifically, facing the world/adventure, working together to further their common goal of surviving and thriving in a hostile fantasy world.  The character is nothing more (or less) than a player's vehicle for exploring the game environment. 

Customization promotes an inward-facing disposition. Excessive options for character choice encourages players to focus on themselves, their own individual needs and wants, distracting from the objectives of play. For the players, the more choices presented for character "builds," the more that attention is drawn away from the exploration/experience of game play, focusing players (instead) on the 'game-within-a-game' of character construction. 

Character building is not the game.

Couple THAT with an advancement mechanic in 2E that provides different, conflicting objectives of reward-based play among PCs of different class category, and you have the makings of a game that is both divisive and narcissistic. Certainly it is both those over the long-term, and (in my admittedly limited 2E experience) fairly quickly from the start of play.

The potential for making special and unique players also produces ATTACHMENT in players towards their characters...another unwanted development. Attachment is a bad thing. It leads to hard feelings when "bad things" happen to a character. It leads to DMs "fudging" dice rolls (something that leads to a loss of trust in a DM and a complete loss of integrity in a game) in order to "save" favorites...or to forestall bitching-moaning from players. Of course, with the extra burden of a more detailed character creation process, fudging or "dialing down" challenge may already be on the table, because no one wants to wait around for a player to create a new, detailed, uniquely customized character...50 page backstory or not.

Later editions have, unfortunately, only compounded the problem of customization, adding MORE options and MORE choices for the creation of even more "unique" and specialized characters. Feats. Skills. Prestige classes. Class "tracks." Class "builds." Point-buys. For some players, character creation and character development IS the game. It is no wonder that the soap opera style of play favored (and supported) under the 5.5E rules is so focused on creating drama and side-stories and 'character arcs.' 

The game, as currently promulgated, ain't about "adventuring." 

So, yeah: the advice I gave to the reader was to skip any attempt at "fixing" 2E and (instead) just diving into 1E. It's more than just the divisive experience point system that is an issue...it's the whole paradigm shift to character customization which MORE THAN DRAGONLANCE is the root cause of the game's fall from a fun game of fantasy adventure to amateur improv night at the kitchen table.  You don't think there are enough PC "options" in the 1E PHB? There are some 50 different class/race combinations (including bards and multi-class characters)...how many different options do your five to seven players require?

Focus on the GAME, not the character. Character is not the game. Character is the vehicle for playing the game. AD&D is great for people who want pulse-pounding adventure. Why waste that just so you can show off your "original character?"

Woo-hoo! Look at me! I'm
soooo special with my
longsword specialization and
my horsemanship NWP. Right?!

Nuts-And-Bolts

Had an email from a GM earlier who reaches out to me for occasional game advice/suggestions. In addition to wishing me well with my recovering wrist (it is recovering...slowly but surely), the GM mentioned they are "getting better [at GMing] with each game" played. 

Which is awesome...duh. If you have a calling as a GM/DM, you WANT to see improvement in your craft over time. Imagine how frustrating to love something and then struggle in futility with it for years (or more).

Last December, I wrote (briefly) about the number of YEARS it took me to learn how to run AD&D in (what I consider) an "adequate" manner. Not "great;" probably not even "good," really. But definitely adequate. And, it should go without saying that I'm judging "good" and "great" by what I know NOW...with the benefit of decades spent in this hobby, watching DMs both good and...not-so-good. When I was 15, I (and my players) would probably have called myself a "good" DM, if not a great one.

My, how low we set the bar back then.

But we were kids. And I'd guess that our MAIN concern at the time was simply one of FAIRNESS. Was the DM acting as an "impartial arbiter of the rules?" Or were they being an asshole? Concepts of 'storytelling' and dungeon design theory were definitely NOT concerns for us back then. Could the DM be trusted to play by the rules and not be a jerk...THAT was the main concern. 

Now...well, I have some higher standards. Because I'm older and wiser and (somewhat) more mature then I was. Funny how that happens. If you'd asked me a decade ago, I'd probably say I'd LOVE to be transported back to my teens or twenties with all the knowledge I have now. But now? I'd say I rather like being the age I am, even though it means I'm balding on top, my eyesight is going, and I don't heal as fast as I used to. 

[the eyesight part is the one I struggle with the most]

I rather love where I'm at in my life, despite the challenges that this decade brings (every decade of one's life brings challenges, that's just how life is). But this is a fun one right now. Kids not quite adults, but on the cusp of it. Routines settled into some sort of semi-organized chaos. Yeah, money's tight and you can't eat out like you used to, but I've really learned to enjoy cooking at home. Every day is a bit of a struggle, but you know and understand what the struggle is all for...there is value and meaning and purpose. It's kind of wonderful.

Anyway.

It takes time and effort to learn how to do things. For [reasons]. I've been reading up on the lives of famous guitarists. And the thing they all have in common is how much they worked and worked and worked at their craft...for hours and hours and hours, before they achieved any type of success and even afterward (if they had any consistency or longevity). I used to own a guitar...I used to be able to play a few chords on it. I wrote a couple-three songs even (for one of my former bands). But I never spent hours upon hours over days and weeks and months and years becoming skilled or even competent as a guitarist. I didn't care much for playing the guitar. It wasn't a passion for me...it wasn't even fun. For people who become virtuoso musicians (with any instrument) there has to be something that drives the person to immerse themselves in it. Maybe they love the instrument and the music it produces. Maybe they see it as a means to an end (i.e. a career). Maybe they simply have nothing else going on in their lives/brains. 

In the end, none of those motivations matter. All that matters is the time and effort put into honing one's skills. You do something 40 or 80 or 100 hours per week, and over time, you WILL get better at it. 

As a teenager, I worked at fast food joints over summers. I got really, really good at making a Burger King "Whopper." Even today (decades since I last stepped into a fastfood kitchen) I could put one together in seconds...probably blindfolded if I needed to. In a way, it was a complete waste of time, since I never aspired to being a lifelong "maker of BK burgers." But I use the example of how one can train themselves to do something, just by putting in the hours regardless of motivation. We learned to read and write and walk and talk the same way. I worked at another career...a much more complicated one...for fifteen years and learned to do THAT in my sleep, too. Could probably still do most of it, if I were to go back, excepting the technology has probably changed.

D&D...specifically Dungeon Mastering...IS a passion and calling for me. I don't know why, but it is. And because of that, I've spent long, long hours reading and writing and playing the D&D game for DECADES. Just like those virtuoso guitarists, I spent hours locked in my room with my dice and my books. To the non-gamer, this probably seems ridiculous...all the skills I could have been learning instead. Whatever. The heart wants what the heart wants. I wanted RPGs...many of them. And reading them, playing them, absorbing them, burning them into my brain's neural connections...that's what I've done over the majority of my life. And to the person who does enjoy and appreciate these games...well, my dedication in gaming circles is usually recognized, if not respected.

Which, by the way, doesn't matter to me. The heart wants what the heart wants.

And so we come to AD&D: a vastly complicated game by the standards of most games played around a dinner table, but the bulk of its rules still (mostly) fit in two slim hardcovers. Seriously. If you were to set the magic item descriptions and optional appendices aside, the DMG would clock in at the same number of pages as the PHB...about 250 pages total. Compare that to the 5E where the PHB alone is 300+ pages. Can you grind 250 pages of rules? Study them, learn them, burn them into your neural cortex so they're as ingrained as the plot of your favorite television series or the procedures in your favorite spectator sport? Can you do that? Or is it too much to ask?

Spending hours...TIME...grinding is, as said, the key to building skills. It's those "nuts-and-bolts" that are the most important part of mastering one's craft. You may have a tremendous imagination and a penchant for 'storytelling,' but if you don't have the nuts-and-bolts of the game nailed down, that's all for naught. 

You want to write songs? Better learn your scales.

It becomes amazingly "simple" to DM a session of AD&D if you put in the work learning the rules of the system. The rules of AD&D exist to describe and define and delineate the possible actions the players take in the (imaginary) "world." This is why...when running...I don't care overmuch about my players' depth of knowledge. I describe situations and ask what they want to do (occasionally presenting options)...and then I lean on the rules of the game to adjudicate results. I don't negotiate with my players...there isn't a need. I don't hem and haw and consider "what would be fun" or "story appropriate" for the session. I allow the players to immerse themselves in the game world, and then I use the engine of the system to drive the car. It's knowing the nuts-and-bolts that make this possible. 

Don't worry about being a good Dungeon Master. Focus on learning the system. Do THAT and everything becomes a whole lor easier.

Busy & Battered

Apologies for the lack of posting. Most of February was spent between volleyball (I am coaching my daughter's team) and "house stuff," with the bulk of my time being spent on the latter. My mother's house, my family home, the house I spent the most years in (especially my formative years) officially went on the market last Wednesday. Offers should be coming in by Tuesday (there's been a LOT of showings the last few days). 

I have a lot of emotion and memory attached to that house. Letting it go is extremely difficult.

The volleyball is less difficult, although I managed to absolutely wreck myself on Friday. We were doing "box jumps" and the 30" box I was standing on to demonstrate slipped out from under my feet dropping me on ass, causing me to severely sprain my left wrist and rendering me mostly "one-handed" the last couple days (bashed my lower back, too, but ice and rest have mostly taken care of that). Extremely dumb, and extremely inconvenient...even typing hurts (currently doing so with an ice pack wrapped tightly to my hand, but I'm about to change back to my wrist brace). At least it doesn't seem much worse than a grade II sprain...the frustrating pain is constant, but after two nights rest I have most of my range of motion back, despite the swelling. Haven't (yet) gone to see a doctor because A) I'm a stubborn ass, and B) what are they going to do besides charge me for x-rays and give me a cheap prescription for opioids? 

Sorry, no. I've been through that drill before.

But it's a pain in the ass. And while I'm managing it with bracing, ice, and the occasional dose of Advil, I'll probably go see the doctor tomorrow if I'm not back to "functionally two-handed" by tomorrow. Yesterday I couldn't even use a pepper grinder. Today, I can turn doorknobs with my hand...if necessary.

The vball season is another story I don't really want to expand on at this time. We're working on it. Let's leave it at that for the moment.

Having taken care of my mom's place (for the moment...once it's sold I'll have the whole other headache of paying off the creditors, dividing the assets, dealing with my brother, and worrying about the tax crap), I can again devote some time to gaming interests. I have yet another Cauldron convention coming up in seven months and I am, at the moment, registered to run no less than EIGHT different adventures, including the third installment of the ever-popular "Blackrazor Cup."

Seven months is not a lot of time to write that many adventures.

Fortunately, I only have to write...mm...six of them (two I have to test and prep, but they should be good to go), and three of those are half (or more) written. But...it's a lot. Especially assuming I want to do a decent job with them. The BRC adventure is especially troubling as it's going to be a little nutty and the map is...intimidating. For ME, that is...designing it to be useable to the tournament DMs while still accomplishing what I want to do is a bit of a conundrum. But I just haven't had much time to devote to the thing the last couple months.

Still, other than that, I expect MOST of these to be fairly straightforward designs. Maybe not. Ugh. I'm sorry...I'm being cryptic. I just don't want to give too much away, as some of my blog readers might well be playing in these adventures down the road. No spoilers!

AND...I'm thinking about cutting down the slate anyway. I'm taking Diego with me to Cauldron. He's excited but also a trifle nervous. He feels like he'd be less intimidated to play at other (non-Papa) DMs' tables if I was alongside him as a fellow player. Totally understandable, though I think he underestimates himself. But I'm considering cutting down on the number of sessions I run, and (instead) rolling through some other folks' adventure sessions. 

Maybe. I don't know, I like running games...much more so than playing a PC. They are two different activities, each providing their own (different) 'thrill.' And I like the thrill of being a DM more than the thrill of being a player. Perhaps because, at heart, I am just a petty tyrant. Perhaps it is because I have "trust issues," and simply can't trust anyone other than myself to run a decent game. Perhaps. Perhaps I'm just worried that I'll be a lame-ass player (whereas I'm a fairly proficient DM) and I'm just afraid of looking bad. 

*sigh*  Something I'll have to ponder on. I guess.

All right...that's enough of an "I'm-not-dead" update. Next time I post, I'll try to have something more substantive to say.

[by the way: just reading back through my December blog posts, there are some good essays in there. For readers wanting more than adventure 'reviews,' I'd suggest checking out my posts from the last couple months of 2025]