J is for Jaded

[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]

J is for Jaded...the cynical, tired, world-weary view many have when it comes to this nearly 50-year old game that is Advanced Dungeons & Dragons.

I mean, that's the real reason people don't want to play AD&D, right? Not because it's out-of-print (it isn't), but because it's old and creaky and un-supported compared to the new hotness with its DM's Guild and D&D Beyond and corporate-sponsored community. First edition is just some odd relic for nostalgic wargamers...curmudgeonly, grey-bearded grognards, yeah?

I mean 1E is just so much "Oh, no! Yet another group of orcs! And, oh, look...these ones have a pet cave troll." (*yawn*)  I mean that's just a sleep spell followed by flaming oil, no?  If you've seen one bag of gold and a +1 sword, you've seen them all, amirite?  BORING.

Oh, and AD&D combat. Sure. Roll for initiative. Roll to hit. Roll for damage. Repeat. Over and over and over. How TEDIOUS...and yet that's 90% of D&D combat, no? Maybe with a charge thrown in for good measure. Lighting torches and dutifully marching down stone stairways into dark passages...again and again. A grinding slog of searching for coins so one can level up and do it all over again...didn't that type of play go out of style circa 1988?

And the players of this edition...boy-howdy, what kind of neck bearded mouth-breathers these guys are. All jokes about their appearance aside, what kind of MENTALITY drives a person to find this kind of game "fun?" To want to butcher monsters and rob them of their (imaginary) possessions? What kind of sick, freakish behavior is this?

Is it any wonder that the "OSR" is filled with "rules lite" games? After all, if all you want to do is go down a hole, stab some things with a sword, and steal their stuff, what do you really need for rules? Why NOT just run a simplified game with streamlined procedures and let your imagination carry the day when it comes to creating monstrous challenges and fantastical magic treasures? I mean, don't these "lite" RPGs give you the same gameplay for a lower cost in terms of time and effort? 

And even if you MUST have your "complex," pseudo-wargame (because you're a big ol' nerd who likes the crunch), just how long can you sustain interest in running the same six scenarios time and again? Ancient tomb, labyrinthine cavern, evil temple/shrine...is it really six scenarios? Maybe four if you count stronghold of tyrannical overlord as one. Maybe.

These are the words of the jaded. Know them. Let them penetrate you. Flow through you. And then continue on their merry way. 

Do not apologize for your hobby. Do not make excuses for it. Do not even try to justify it to people. You like what you like. There are far worse vices and far sillier pastimes than playing AD&D.

But what about YOU? Are YOU feeling jaded by the game play of AD&D? Well...let's talk about that.

A jaded AD&D player, unfortunately, doesn't have much recourse available to them. Chances are that any cynicism they've acquired is largely due to the Dungeon Master. You can try to 'up your game,' looking for adventures elsewhere (i.e. outside the dungeon), pushing your DM to expand the scope of play...but sometimes that's a no-go. In those cases, your best choice of action (IMO) is to become a Dungeon Master yourself, modeling the change you want to be.

On the other hand, if you're a jaded AD&D DM, you're going to need to take a long, hard look at yourself in the mirror. For the DM who feels stuck in a rut, who no longer feels the "fire" of enthusiasm for the game, it's never an issue of "bad players" or "burnout" (although people will often advise the jaded DM to switch groups or 'take a break' from running). No, if you're feeling your game is dull, staid, repetitive, and/or lackluster there is only one way to rekindle your spark: work harder. That your game feels lackluster is a direct result of failing to meet your own expectations.

What? There's not enough fantasy in your game? There's more fantasy in the core books than you'll probably get to in a lifetime...I've been playing for more than four decades and *I* haven't used every monster, magic item, and spell. If your orcs are "boring," it's only because you're using them as cardboard cutouts, the RPG equivalent of pixels spawning only to be killed. Give them motivations, give them agendas, give them plans. Tie them to the environment, to your campaign world. Enjoy them...tart them up with personalities, names, idiosyncrasies. NOT because you're trying to entertain your players with "funny/weird NPCs;" players are far more likely to simply beat such creatures to death instead of interacting with them (this IS D&D, after all). No, you are entertaining yourself...AND you are world building. Those 'cheap deaths' at the hands of bloodthirsty players can have consequences.

What if the orcs aren't "bad" at all, but a  tribe of surface dwelling types that are engaged in a brisk trade with a local human community...perhaps the town or village that the players use as a base of operations. Maybe the mayor was actually paying the orcs a small stipend to keep the road clear of bandits; maybe some of the orcs had intermarried with members of the human population. Or perhaps not...perhaps the orcs were steering well clear of the humans (only occasionally ambushing the lone villager or lost merchant that wandered into their territory) but was instead engaged with a more remote group of more vicious humanoids...for example an alliance with some gnolls against a small group of ogres. Killing the orcs might upset the gnolls; it might also overturn the balance of power in the region as the dissolution of the orc-gnoll "buffer" incites the ogres to come down from the hills and raid the human village. Lots of possibilities.

But perhaps you feel you've already exhausted ALL possibilities with orcs. If you have, my question to you is: why are you still using orcs in your scenarios? Are you not awarding enough treasure to advance your players to a level where they can come into conflict with bigger prey?  How many years, how many sessions have you been playing "small ball?"  Long enough to get bored, sure...does that mean years? Because after a year or two of regular play, you should have players of a high enough level that they can start exploring other planes of existence...where the weirdness is both expected and encouraged.  But if, after two to three years of solid play, your players are still under 7th level in experience, then you're probably doing something wrong. Either your players are complete numbskulls (which means you could/should be helping them, teaching them how to tackle/handle challenges more effectively). OR you're simply not opening enough possibility for them by seeding your game with adequate amounts of treasure. 

Trust me on this: you want new, exciting, ennui-breaking potential in your game? Give your players treasure. Level them up and you'll have whole new horizons to explore.

No AD&D Dungeon Master should ever feel bored or jaded by their own campaign. Your campaign is YOUR world. If it's not exciting enough, or interesting enough, that's something YOU need to fix...by making it more interesting and exciting. The fault of a dull, uninteresting game lies solely with the Dungeon Master running the game. 

And the good news is: knowing that it's your own fault gives you all the power in the world to change it. Just dig a bit deeper...you can do better if you try.

I is for Iron

[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]

I is for IRON...the will you must have to run AD&D and the fist you must rule with at your table. If you are going to be an AD&D Dungeon Master, your resolve must be iron clad.

Perhaps that sounds like 'petty tyrant nonsense.' It is not. The game play of Dungeons & Dragons is built upon TRUST...the trust the players have in the Dungeon Master. For the game to function...whether in the short-term or (especially) over the long-haul, the players must have unshakeable trust that the DM will  be a fair and impartial arbiter, abiding by the rules of the game, whether those rules are set by the DM or by the instructional text of the game itself.

This is yet another reason why the knowledge of the books (and the instructions within them) is so important and why it is best to keep any house rules (especially those that upend the standard systems and procedures in the text) should be kept to a minimum. The game texts are the 'holy scripture' of the game, that set out the rules that govern the (game) world...yes, they produce a fun game for us to play, but they set the "laws of the universe" by which all participants must abide...just as real humans are subject to the laws of gravity or the turns of the seasons.

For the players, any wavering on the part of the DM, any wishy-washyness, any chink in their armor that can be exploited or manipulated...any BREAK in their iron...can prove disastrous to trust.  If one player or another can wheedle (or weasel) the Dungeon Master into giving an inch, the game risks becoming a farce...a sham. No longer a game of playing adventure, but a game of playing the DM. 

You must rule your table with an iron fist. This does not mean bullying your players; rather, you must have a unbreakable grip of you own game. When a player complains "But Gandalf used a sword! Friar Tuck used a sword!" you must be able to look them in the eye, and calmly say, "Yes, I know...but this is not The Lord of the Rings or Robin Hood, and in this game world wizards and priests don't use swords."  Those that still want to play will accept the rules of play and stay at the table...and, so long as you apply the rules consistently, they will find their foundation of trust strengthening.

Because you demonstrate integrity. 

I've written about this before with regard to DMs who allow themselves to be flummoxed or cajoled into accepting the complaints and whining of players, in some misguided attempt to "keep everyone happy." Trying to keep everyone happy is a fool's errand. No...you are a baseball umpire. Sometimes people are called out on strikes and THAT is the rules of the game...the rules that everyone playing have agreed to abide by.

AD&D is no different from baseball in this regard.

Does this mean that people watching my table will observe me constantly shouting down my players, belittling them, telling them to sit down, shut up, and play the damn game? No, of course not. When someone asks a question about game procedures, I provide them with an explanation as to why I'm doing something. Any "house rules" I may have are explained at the outset of the session, such that there isn't a question later, in the middle of play. And if a person challenges me...which happens on occasion...with a rule of which I was unaware, we pause the game and look up the rule and assess it. And then CORRECT our game play as necessary.  Because I, too, have an interest in playing the game right.

Again, this demonstrates integrity.

And I want to demonstrate integrity.  I want players to trust me in my role as Dungeon Master...that I hold myself to a standard they can count on, rely on.

Because the DM is given enormous power within the game. Even though AD&D characters do not have the floofy backstories and dramatic arcs of a 5E character, players still become (over time) emotionally invested in their characters...their actions create history and meaning and memories of shared experiences. The AD&D character becomes as much a part of their player as the university they went to, the career they've chosen, the spouse they married.  And the Dungeon Master can BLAST THAT CHARACTER INTO NOTHINGNESS AT ANY TIME. The DM can have a bottomless pit open beneath the character's feet, or a river of lava break though the dungeon wall, or a cave-in crush every member of the party ('rocks fall, everyone dies'). The DM can send wave upon wave of monsters (such as the Dragonlance modules do to those who step off its railroad path) or create magic traps that do all manner of despicable, de-protagonizing things to characters (see Tomb of Horrors for examples). The DM is explicitly empowered (via the text in the DMG) with destroying characters with "bolts from the blue" simply for behaving badly (as judged by the DM).  

Who wants to play in a game like that? Who can feel engaged in a game that is subject to such arbitrariness? Why put in the time and effort and emotional commitment just to have everything you've worked for stripped away by a capricious individual?

If you, as a DM, cannot demonstrate integrity, your players will not be able to trust you. If you break your own rules, or the rules of the game, they will have no choice but to see you as a person given to subjective bouts of whimsy. And that's someone they cannot trust. This will break your game.

You must have an iron will and an iron resolve when it comes to running your game. You cannot allow yourself to be subject to the "rule of cool." If you want a game that is meaningful over the long-term, you must be as UNcool, as the parent who says to the child, "No, you cannot stay up till 2am watching videos while swilling soda and stuffing your face with ice cream." For the benefit of your campaign and your players, you must be totally uncool in the face of complaints.

But isn't this game supposed to be fun? And imaginative? And chock-full of amazing cool fantasy? Yes, of course. And it is!  In what other game can you catch and train winged horses for riding? In what other game can you find yourself leading a band of mercenary soldiers into battle against the unwashed hordes of beast-men bent on ruin? In what other game can you fight dragons and plunder their lairs? In what other game can you turn yourself invisible, fly, and rain fiery death on your enemies? In what other game can you travel to both the depths of Hell and the heights of Olympus to personally commune (or combat) gods and demons? In what other game can you start as a lowly pawn and elevate yourself to living legend through your own deeds?  AD&D allows you do ALL of this...and more!...all within the standard rules of the game.  Is that not amazingly cool, imaginative fun?

But that is digression (and the subject of a post yet to come). The point of THIS post is that you must be as rigid as iron when it comes to running the game by the rules you've accepted to play (whether or not they've been modified by "house rules"), and not allow yourself to be swayed or "buffaloed" into deviation. Every time you allow yourself (as DM) to be "gamed" by the players, you erode their trust in your ability to be fair and impartial...even for those players who BENEFIT from this manipulation. Sure, you were willing to fudge the dice rolls for them this time, but what about next time? And can any victory feel earned with the knowledge that your DM is willing to tamper with the results?

Best to build your campaign on a strong, solid foundation. Be iron, my friends.

H is for House Rules

[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]

H is for House Rules...a subject that is likely to meet with more consternation than some of these other essays.

I'd imagine that most D&D players, when asked about their "house rules," will consider all the ways they (or their group) have altered the rules of their game to better meet their expectations of play. All sorts of modifications have been proposed and used by folks over the years, in every edition of the game...far too many to make any kind of comprehensive list. Some groups have decided they don't like level restrictions, or race/class restrictions. Some groups have decided to use a "silver standard" instead of gold for their economy. Others have decided to axe various rules and systems from the game...everything from languages and training, to alignment, to whole races or classes (several folks, for example have decided they dislike the inclusion of clerics in the game, feeling it diminished the "sword & sorcery" feel of the game), while ADDING new procedures that subvert or undermine the existing system...things like "luck points" or a shields will be splintered rule.

In many cases, the DMs making these changes to their game do so with the claim that D&D's authors meant the game to be changed and adjusted at any time; that, rather than actual rules, the instructional text serves only as "guidelines" that a Dungeon Master should feel free to rewrite to their liking, at any time, broadly interpreting the final afterword of OD&D's initial rule set as carte blanche for wholesale changes. 

I am of a different opinion on the matter.

Leaving aside OD&D (not the subject of this series anyway), I find little in the AD&D books to indicate Gygax wanted anyone to modify or change the rules of the game at all. Quite the opposite, in fact:

Dictums are given for the sake of the game only, for if ADVANCED DUNGEONS & DRAGONS is to survive and grow, it must have some degree of uniformity, a familiarity of method and procedure from campaign to campaign within the whole. ADVANCED D&D is more than a framework around which individual DMs construct their respective milieux, it is above all a set of boundaries for all of the "worlds" devised by referees everywhere. These boundaries are broad and spacious, and there are numerous areas where they are so vague and amorphous as to make them nearly nonexistent, but they are there nonetheless. 

...The danger of a mutable system is that you or your players will go too far in some undesirable direction and end up with a short-lived campaign...Variation and difference are desirable, but both should be kept within the boundaries of the overall system. Imaginative and creative addition can most certainly be included; that is why nebulous areas have been built into the game. Keep such individuality in perspective by developing a unique and detailed world based on the rules of ADVANCED D&D. No two campaigns will ever be the same, but all will have the common ground necessary to maintaining the whole as a viable entity about which you and your players can communicate with many thousands of others....

[from the DMG, page 7]

No, the game does not cover the entirety of possible (fantasy) experiences, but it does have functional rules, and the areas where creativity is not only allowed but encouraged are those places where the rules are "vague and amorphous." In other words, only the areas of play where there are no systems or procedures to cover the subject in question...those places (and there are many) are where DMs should be adding specificity and using their own creativity. As needed.

Conversely, where there are already rules, they are there for a reason. And maintaining uniformity (by adhering to those rules) is an explicit objective of the game designer as pointed out MANY times in the text (see the PHB preface and the DMG afterword, in addition to the quotes above).

Now, please allow me to stem the tide of readers jumping down my throat about how they love their dwarven clerics and how unlimited demihuman advancement "saved" their campaign.  I am not so obtuse as to believe that the majority (or ANY) of the DMs running the game are doing it entirely "by the book."  Neither do I want to be hypocritical in professing to be a completely RAW ("rules as written") Dungeon Master when it comes to running AD&D. As a youth, we strove to abide by the rules as much as humanly possible, but there were things we missed and things we got wrong, and for the sake of expedience there was definitely a time when we adopted the rather lenient Moldvay version of encumbrance for our otherwise granular AD&D campaign.

But then, we didn't have the tools (laptops and spreadsheets) that we do today.

Still, even today, my own game deviates in multiple ways from AD&D as written. While mostly done to shore up some inconsistencies and problems found in certain magical (spell) effects, other changes...like the wholesale removal of alignment or the magic-user's need to read magic...are far more significant in scope, if not impact.

All that being confessed, I strive to run MOST of the game in a manner that "hews the line with respect to conformity with major systems and uniformity of play in general" (as Gygax stipulates in the afterword of the DMG). Because these days I run games for all sorts of players, not just my own "regulars." And I want to make sure that anyone who sit down at my table to play AD&D...whether at a "demo," a game shop, or a convention...and has an INKLING (or more) of the game are going to be able to dive in with little or no trouble. Yes, they can even 'choose an alignment' (if they must)...they simply won't find it mattering much (or at all) in play. But everything else? The actual nuts-and-bolts of game play? That they should find more-or-less 'as Gary intended.'

That uniformity that the author hammers on about is quite useful. AD&D is not a particularly 'hard' game to play, but it is not a simple game...certainly not in comparison to, say, the Basic editions written to introduce new players to D&D concepts. But because of that uniformity I can (and have) run AD&D games without issue for players from many different countries. It has allowed me to write adventures that have been run in German and French and Hungarian (to be clear. NOT my native language). It has allowed me to correspond with folks all over the world (via the wonderful technology of today), explaining the rules and how they work (based on my personal interpretations of the text) and citing where they can find the same information themselves. 

The important thing, however, is that it provides a shared understanding and a shared lexicon for communication. When I play chess with my (Mexican) father-in-law, we use different terms for the pieces, but the pieces still move in the same fashion. By playing as close to 'standard' AD&D procedures as I do, I stave off a lot of questions and...I believe...a lot of possible frustrations and resentment. Just being able to say, "yeah, that half-orc paladin (or whatever) ain't allowed in the rules," cuts off a lot of potential issues that might otherwise arise at the table. Yes, some folks will find it galling that their elven fighter can't advance past a certain level...but at least they know what they're signing up for when they join an AD&D game. And my game world doesn't end up looking all that much different from someone else's campaign (assuming they play with the same rules in place).

So, if you were to ask MY players what my most important house rules are (and I have), THESE are the ones they've most often cited:

• No cell phones or electronic devices allowed at the table (this includes the DM...I use my laptop between sessions for calculating and tracking various numbers, but in play, I only use printed documents and hardcopy manuals).
• All dice are rolled "in the box" (all my dice are rolled in the open and in a flat-lying box top; dice that bounce out of the box do not count and are re-rolled in the box).
• No PVP ("player versus player") conflict allowed (players are on the same team; the DM is the adversary)

My fifteen year old son (one of my players) adheres to these house rules in his game, too, although he insists on running everything else "by the book" (including the use of alignment, etc.). Which is his prerogative, of course. And it doesn't bother me in the slightest, because I already know how to play AD&D by the book.

G is for Gygaxian

[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]

G is for Gygaxian...a particular style of setting design often described as "Gygaxian Naturalism," this latter term first coined by James Maliszewski in 2008.

[James also wrote a follow-up post entitled Gygaxian UNnaturalism that's also worth reading as part of the same discussion]

While each Dungeon Master's campaign is their own to design, there are certain assumptions of the setting that are baked into AD&D play. Maliszewski's discussion stems from the style proliferated in Gygax's later works (his published adventure modules, his World of Greyhawk, and his AD&D books) which were a far cry from the open-ended, Gonzo-possibility that proves so seductively enticing to aficionados of the OD&D (original) edition of Dungeons & Dragons.  These setting assumptions "color" the AD&D game, which for those who dislike "limits on their imagination," can feel both constricting and off-putting.

We'll get to that in a moment.

LOTs of setting assumptions are baked into the "setting-less" AD&D system. For example, there are assumptions of an inter-species, interactive society. There is an assumption of cosmic forces of good and evil. These cosmic forces have actual physical impact on mere (human) mortals...doing "evil" loses a paladin or ranger their professional skills and abilities, for example.  Certain creatures (undead) are subject to the divine powers of clerics (both good and evil). Gold is the coin of the realm and is coveted by ALL intelligent creatures...not just as evidenced by the random treasure hoards in monster lairs, but in the fact that intelligent monsters can be distracted from pursuit by dropping treasure (unlike unintelligent animals, who are onlydistracted by dropping food).

Gygax's adventures exhibit a fantasy ecosystem, in which some monsters prey on other monsters, while other creatures (humanoids especially) exhibit societies, doing construction work both above and below ground, having caravans (often with slaves taken in war/raids), and being ruled by hierarchies of kings, chieftains, sub-chiefs, and lesser lieutenants. It is very much a "human-centric" world view...not only because humans are the focus protagonists, but because every society and custom observed is given in terms of comprehensible human norms. Nothing here is very "alien" in the Gygaxian milieu, even if the fantasy creatures themselves are VERY alien.

Take the mind flayer for example.  Nothing could be more alien than a brain-sucking, tentacle-faced, mind-monster. And yet they have cities. They wear clothes. They keep treasure. They flee when things go against them. They keep slaves. They fight wars with other species (the githyanki). They trade, bargain, make alliances (see the D1-D3 series of modules). In some ways it is very much "rubber mask" fantasy of the Star Trek or Star Wars variety. Creatures seek slaves, treasure, interbreed with humans, have all the normal human range of social behaviors from hatred to great friendship...even creatures that are so long-lived (elves) that their perception of time itself should lead to a completely different method of relating to the concept.

This human-centric, fantasy "naturalism" is important to AD&D play for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that it provides a modicum of verisimilitude. Once upon a time I read that part of the impetus for the Hickman's "story first" approach to adventure design came with their frustration out of plyaing D&D in a dungeon that featured random disparate monsters being discovered, side-by-side, in adjoining rooms for no rhyme or reason...something like a a bunch of goblins, a slime/ooze, and a vampire. Such random design is nothing like the type of ecology Gygax describes in the DMG under Monster Populations and Placement (pages 90-91); clearly the Hickmans were "gifted" with an inferior Dungeon Master. 

Lack of verisimilitude, like "gonzo" settings devoid of consistency or sensibility, can quickly derail player engagement. The less players can trust the setting to abide by any particular, understandable rules, the less the players can trust the Dungeon Master running the game. Why is that? Because, in a game that invests one player (the DM) with all the power of the (imaginary) universe, the players has to trust and believe that the DM will be fair and impartial, abiding by the same rules that govern the players. When the world seems unreasonably odd, strange, or "whackadoo," how can the players trust the DM to NOT be whimsical and arbitrary in their adjudication?

Having a sensible ecology...even a fantastical one...sets parameters and limits; yes, limits that some DMs of a more imaginative bent might find chafing. But for the players, these limits serve as boundaries and guideposts...they indicate the territory in which they (and the DM) can operate. This provides the players with tremendous freedom, as they know that which is not prohibited is allowable. It is a safety net of sorts...one that prevents the DM (who, again it must be emphasized, is all powerful in the game) from over-stepping their prerogatives. Certainly (at least) it can reign in their more power-mad proclivities.

But that is just the verisimilitude aspect of the Gygaxian setting style. The "human-centric" nature of the Gygax's "naturalism," ensures that the game, no matter how fantastical it seems, is still readily accessible by the players at the table.  Yes, mind flayers are completely, horrifically, alien...and, yet, even the most inexperienced player can grasp their (all too human) motivations, understand how to bargain with them (if such becomes possible...or a necessity), and grasp that they might have valuable stashed around that can be taken (if the opportunity presents itself) or be used in trade/negotiation. Dragons, too, are more than just fire-breathing reptiles; bugbears are more than sasquatches...they are peoples, peoples with ambitions and desires, fears and motives.  Not necessarily stories, mind you...the vast majority of NPCs (monstrous or not) in the AD&D game require zero backstory or background. But they have ecology...we know they have to do something to eat. We know they had some type of parent that birthed/hatched them, and may well be seeking to raise a brood of their own. That is naturalism...even if it is fantastical "Gygaxian" naturalism.

AD&D abounds with this...just read through the Monster Manual(s).  Perytons need human hearts to reproduce. Griffons and bulettes natural prey are horses (although the latter find halflings a special treat and dig them from their burrows every chance they get). Dwarves and goblins have longstanding feuds, as do elves and orcs and gnomes and kobolds. Dragons can be subdued instead of slain. Hill giants keep cave bears for pets like a human keeps dogs. Otyughs eat waste from other monsters in the dungeon.  Mimics are the venus flytraps of the underground.  There is ecological setting considerations scattered throughout the AD&D game.

Verisimilitude. Accessibility. Both in aid of having active player engagement, rather than alienation. It wasn't just Gygax's penchant for a particular 'brand' of fantasy that led these things to be a part of the AD&D game. Whether or not he thought about it at the time he was writing, they ended up in the books that form the instructional text of the game...and as a result, an AD&D campaign, run well, is exceptionally good at holding the attention of its participants. Players and DMs alike.

F is for Fighting

[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]

F is for Fighting...because of course it is. Whether you're talking fangs, fisticuffs, or flashing blades, combat and battle is a deeply ingrained part of the AD&D experience.

But it's super late tonight, and this is the first chance I've had to write today (I'm currently on vacation with the family, and it's my 25th wedding anniversary to boot). 

So instead of writing 10,000 words on the subject I will link you to my earlier post on how I run AD&D combat. Of course, it would also be helpful to understand the literary basis of the game's combat assumptions and expectations. And, for the truly content starved reader, may I direct you to this other post on how to run initiative in the AD&D game.

Apologies for being lazy, but it's been a long, full day, and it's time to hit the hay. Till tomorrow!

: )

E is for Engagement

[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]

E is for Engagement…that thing that all Dungeon Masters seek from their players.

Truly, engagement is what DMs hope for whenever we sit down to run a game of AD&D. We are not looking for praise and appreciation…those things are nice to hear, of course, but the fact is we would put in the time and effort of DMing regardless of whether or not anyone appreciates the work we do. How many times has our work gone unappreciated? And yet we continue to come back to the table and sit in the DM’s chair…gluttons for punishment, huh?

No, praise and thanks and compliments are NOT the reason DMs do what they do. And if it is, their career as a “Dungeon Master” is likely to be short-lived and full of frustration (players tend to be a fickle and unappreciative bunch). No, we create to create…we run for the thrill of it. Compliments, thankfully, are not our sustenance.

And from our players, engagement is our aim.

An engaged player is one whose attention is focused on the game at hand; an engaged player is one whose interest is held by the action at the table. The true measure of a DM’s quality is not the number of players who sit down to their table…as I’ve pointed out before, there are far more individuals willing to be players than DMs. No, the true measure of a DM’s quality is whether or not players RETURN to the DM’s table.

Can you engage your players? Can you hold their interest? Can you keep them fully “bought in” to the game you’re running? Or would they rather stack dice and scroll Instagram on their phone?

Lack of engagement is a common enough complaint in Reddit’s hallowed halls. “I catch my on-line players playing video games when I’m trying to get through my villain’s monologue” is something I’ve read more times (back when I was still reading Reddit) than I ever imagined I’d read. But while it’s simple enough to insist on only running games OFF-line (as I heartily suggest), even face-to-face DMs may find the attention of their players drifting. How to keep it?

Because keep it you must. As already explained, every AD&D Dungeon Master is running a campaign...not just finite story arcs, but an entire world, constantly developing, constantly being adjusted, modified, added to. While such world building is its own “fun” in and of itself, the input we receive from the players who participate in the campaign help the thing to evolve in leaps and bounds. A DM is, after all, only one human with billions of possible ideas. When you add other humans, each with their own billions of ideas, the rate of growth and richness of depth increase exponentially. Players help DMs to explore their own potential. We learn more in dynamic interaction with others than we do in solitude. 

And so, we want players. And for those players to stick around, they need to be engaged. Interest has to be held; interest has to be STOKED. There must be something for the players to engage with, so that their attention, their focus, can be LOCKED to the game. So that they say that playing in a DM’s campaign is a higher priority on Saturday night (or whenever) than any number of entertainments they might otherwise pursue.

And AD&D does this in a far simpler way than the poor cousin that is “modern day” D&D. The current brand of D&D…the “5.5” edition…would have people believe that to hold players’ interest, you must be an ENTERTAINER. You must be a STORYTELLER. You must have amazing NPCs with funny voices and accents that interact with players and create DRAMA. That you must learn to SAY YES to the players, succumbing to every wild hair they get. That you must allow players to SUCCEED and BE HEROES and have their SPOTLIGHT MOMENTS and give each of them their own STORY ARC, praising applauding them if only for rolling a high number on a random dice roll. Feed your players’ narcissism, their individual egos. Dance for them like a performing monkey. Dance monkey! Dance!

This is not the way of AD&D. AD&D provides clear objectives of play based on its premise: the players are adventurers, treasure seekers in a dangerous world. It has systems in place that reward meeting that objective (players earn experience “points” for finding treasure) and the game, when run properly, is challenging enough that players will need to learn to lean on each other, to rely on each other, to cooperate with each other, in order to survive. In order to WIN; in order to NOT LOSE.

How does the AD&D Dungeon Master keep their players engaged? By running the game in this way. By using the rules and systems of the game and by respecting the game’s premise. We do not spend half a  game session focused on a shopping excursion in the local town or village. We do not craft monologues for our NPCs, nor even extensive, flowery introductions and excessive description of encounter areas; it is common knowledge that long 'box text' causes players' attention to drift.

The best way to hold players' attention is to force them to interact with the rules of the game. Calling for a die roll, a saving throw, a D6 roll for initiative or surprise...these things force players to sit up and take notice. Providing players with decision=making questions ("left or right?" "descend the stairs or not?" "attack or give quarter?") and meaningful choices not only force players to engage, but help them establish their own agency.  Not "what do you want to do?" which, untethered from context or situation, tends to cause paralysis but instead an array of possibilities that must be weighed by the players. Risk versus reward.

To be engaged, players must feel that not only do they matter, but that their decisions and their actions matter. That is, that they are consequential. As DMs, the way we address the players, the choices we give them, the die rolls we call for, and the results we describe...not just flowery narration, but the actual nuts-n-bolts consequences...contributes immensely to whether or not players feel their actions, their choices, their die rolls, their very lives (as players of the game) have any importance at all. 

The DM as group leader and facilitator can shape the dynamics of the table by their approach to the players in their charge. Not every player is created "equal;" those with more knowledge and more game experience are going to have far more impact than the newer members of the group...and those at the table will know this, instinctively...but that doesn't mean the newbies have "nothing" to offer. DMs can still present newbies with options, and request their decisions, explaining (when needed) the risks associated with those actions. They are still required to make die rolls; they still absorb damage (hit points) and expend resources (spells, arrows, torches and oil, etc.) that contribute to the overall party situation and success. Point these out to the group in total, reinforcing the notion that everyone has value!

While this may seem somewhat like modern D&D's admonitions to "share the spotlight" among the players, I'm advocating for nothing of the sort. There is no call to creativity being placed on individuals, no request for improvisational grandstanding, no demand for backstories, story arcs, or drama, and certainly no judgment on whether or not individuals are "role-playing" good or even enough. What I am doing is running a game and allowing the rules of the game to carry the day, putting the systems and procedures firmly in front of the players' noses and giving them the choice: play or die. Learn or burn. Each to their own measure, of course (another reason it's good to start new players with 1st level characters and give them challenges commensurate to their ability), but enough that they have something to chew without choking.

Do this, and they'll come back for more.

Happy Easter!

Happy Easter, folks!  My profound hope and prayer that this day brings you a renewed feeling of hope and possibility, regardless of your circumstance, your pain, or your struggles. With life there is always hope, and we should rejoice in the life given to us...it is given with purpose, even though that purpose may be a mystery to us.

Peace and love to you all!

[no, this is not my A to Z post for "E"...no A to Z postings on Sundays. We'll pick up again tomorrow]