P is for Profundity

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

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

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

[still hopeful for those projects]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And I don't pull punches.

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

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

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

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

That's all for today.

O is for Originality

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

; )

N is for Newbies

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That's tough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The more of those, the merrier.

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.

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.

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.

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.

"Dear JB" Mailbag #51

This guy.... 

Dear JB:

My friends and I are new to D&D. Actually, I've been consuming D&D content for about a year, so I have a bit more experience. We started with a one-shot, and I had a good time, and I think they did too. Then I decided to run the Lost Mine of Phandelver with them, and that's where the problems started.

The least of them is that after the one-shot, I let them level up, and I think the encounters are too easy now. For example, they defeated Klarg the Bugbear and his wolf with very little difficulty, even though I tried adjusting the encounter to make it harder. I'll try keeping them at their current level for a few sessions.

The real problem is how they're playing. To give you some context, they either chose a chaotic neutral alignment or something in between, but they're actually unbearably evil. They try to rob, have sex with, and sacrifice every NPC, using them as bait, or they simply don't care what happens to the main NPCs. I got tired of this and told them directly that we wouldn't get anywhere if they kept playing like this, since they can't just do the same thing to every NPC. They told me that "that's what their characters would do" and that I should try to make the NPCs meaningful to them and interesting, but I simply can't continue like this. How do they expect me to try to make them more significant if I don't feel heard by them? It doesn't bother me that they don't follow their alignments, and it's true that I'm not very good at roleplaying. The issue is that I'm tired of what they do in-game, and they don't realize that I'm not enjoying it. I don't think they understand that I'm also new to D&D, and the fact that they don't appreciate the effort I put into each session is making me rethink whether I want to keep playing or not. I like to think that through all, there is some hope that they will understand that the only way that i could make the story more meaningful is if they respect the story im trying to tell.

All advice is welcome and very needed.

I Can't Deal With My Players

Dear ICDWMP:

As we approach the end of 2025, it's not unusual for people to want to reflect upon the past 12 months considering missteps and errors we've made, and thinking of ways in which we can improve our lives and actions. Reflection is good; striving to be better is admirable.

But first, of course, we have to be willing to admit our failings. Since you "welcome" "all advice" and, in fact, acknowledge that it is "very needed" ...well, it's only right that I start by advising you to take stock of your situation and realize that all these problems are of your own making.

Not the game. Not the rules. Not your friends. Not even the publisher. Just YOU.

"Consuming D&D content" does NOT translate to "experience." Running a "one-shot" (whatever the hell that means) does not prepare you to run a campaign. Ignoring instructional text and simply "leveling up" players when you feel like it is not a mark of proficiency.

And, no, no player is ever going to "appreciate" what it is you do. If you are DMing solely for the sake of being appreciated by your players, you are going to be DISAPPOINTED. Over and over again.

SO...let me help you. Please. Let me help you. Listen...or, rather, READ...what I have to say. And know that I write these words with a motivation that stems from love.

Mostly. Also, it annoys me to have terrible Dungeon Masters walking this planet.

Now I'm not going to lie: the 5E Starter Set has some pretty TERRIBLE advice in it ("When in doubt, make it up!" and "It's a shared story!" are just two examples). But, a new DM has to start somewhere and if you're insistent on learning that [5E] edition, you might as well start with a "starter set." However, when learning ANY new skill...and running D&D as a Dungeon Master IS a new skill...you want to make sure you follow the instructions.  The first part of Phandelver is written for a group of 1st level characters, who only level up AFTER their encounter with Klarg the Bugbear. If you make them 2nd level to start, than YES, the adventure is going to be far too easy, and NO you do not have the experience or 'chops' at this point to adjust the thing on the fly. You are still a rank novice...I don't give a hoot if you've been "watching D&D content" for a decade or more!

Just run the adventure, dude. Run it as written.

Once you've done that, perhaps you'll be ready to try DMing your own campaign. Perhaps. But first you've got to take a good, hard look in the mirror and make an honest assessment of yourself:

• Do you have the brains and fortitude to read the rulebooks and digest the instruction they provide?
• Do you have the interest and creativity to take on the (often) thankless job of adventure design and world building?
• Will you find the running of the game, with or without accolades, with or without players, to be a joy in and of itself?
• Do you have the courage to commit yourself to the 'long haul?' To run the game consistently even in the face of your players' complaints, objections, and (occasional) idiocy while remaining an impartial referee and God of your universe?

If you can at least answer these questions with the word "maybe" then, okay, we test the hypothesis and maybe you won't be wasting your time. However, if you KNOW that one or more of these questions is a resounding "no," then you should probably hang it up now...find someone else's game to join as a player, if the game still entices you, but do NOT even start down the Dungeon Master's path. You're not ready. And maybe some day you WILL be ready (and that "no" answer will change to a "yes"), but that time is not now. Admit it. Acknowledge it. Accept it.

It's okay. You're not a bad person.

IF you are ready (or think you're ready or are "pretty sure" you're ready) we can get down to brass tacks.  First off, by this point you already have at least one "starter adventure" under your belt (and you've run it twice...once in a fashion that was WRONG, and once "by the book"). Now, we move to "Phase II:" read your instruction manual. That means buying a copy of the PHB and DMG and reading them as many times as you need to A) understand the overall scope and general procedures of game play, and B) know where and how to look up material and spot rules that are likely to come up in play as you (slowly) master the system in practice.

Once you've finished doing that, you take your first steps into world building by designing a small, yet tempting dungeon/adventure along with a town that can act as a base of operations for the PCs. 

Then you run the game. 

Ah, but what about the players being assholes? I hear you asking. Players are largely simple-minded...they get their jollies off of playing D&D and if you, the DM, don't make it fun for them, they will make their own fun. If you force the players to interact with townspeople and 'local color' instead of giving them ACTUAL adventures to pursue, they will treat the town like a dungeon: raping and robbing and murdering their way across it. 

The players have signed up for Dungeons & Dragons. Are you giving them Dungeons? Are you giving them Dragons?

When the players have an adventure on which to focus, focus they shall, assuming they joined your table in good faith of wanting to play the game. NPC "personalities" are a means to an end...and that end is adventure.  If the NPCs aren't advancing the players towards that end goal, things are not going to go well.

At the same time, your adventures have to be rewarding. If you put a "magic shop" or "gold bank" in a town, it may seem infinitely easier for the players to rob THOSE places, instead of risking their characters in some filthy hellhole filled with monsters and boobytraps. While it's easy enough to make the consequences of such actions discouraging (having the town guard show up in force and hanging the PCs from the nearest tree), it is even easier to simply NOT have such places available. A village or town should be a place to resupply, sell loot, and (perhaps) pick up healing or advice from a sage...and that's it. If you, as the DM, want the players to throw over the "evil Baron," or knock over the Duke's palace, well, that's just designing a different type of 'dungeon.' Which is totally cool and fair game. But recognize that YOU, as the DM, control what incentivizes your players based on what you put into your world.

Here's the hard truth: players don't care about NPCs...and neither should you. NPCs are completely imaginary, invented as needed, and are completely and utterly expendable. 

Every. Single. One. Of. Them.

Look. You want an Elric or Conan or Red Sonja or Gandalf clone in your game? Fine: make one. And if the players kill 'em? Make another...the long lost twin of the one they just killed. Now bent on revenge (if that serves your purpose). Or simply bring them back to life...this is D&D we're playing, right? There're still wishes and raise dead spells, yeah?

But really, you just need to stop worrying about making "meaningful" or "significant" or "interesting" NPCs. There's no such thing. Just worry about making adventures (i.e. "dungeons") that are dangerous and rewarding. Do that, and you won't have to worry about players "following their alignment." Heck, you might even (one day) come to the same point I'm at and just chuck alignment out the window. 

However, that's down the road. Learn to play 'by the book' first. 

Make adventures that are dangerous but rewarding. Run those adventures. Give your players experiences..these create memories which, in turn, provide the campaign with "meaning." Not individual NPCs. Not even individual adventures. The game and the campaign you run using the game rules is what the players will (hopefully) sing the praises of. 

Not that you'll care all that much. You're not doing this for accolades. You're DMing for the joy of creation and the satisfaction of mastering your craft. If you do it right, your players will keep coming back for more, allowing you more joy of creation and more satisfaction of mastering your craft.

That's what it is to be a Dungeon Master.

Sincerely, 

JB