Boot Hill: Campaigns (Part II)

Boot Hill's section on campaigns continues with a brief aside about the maps included with the boxed set. Because I don't see anything especially worthy of comment in this section, I'm going to pass over it and move on to the much more relevant section devoted to "Campaign Time."

At the referee's discretion, campaign turns can be weekly or monthly or of any specified duration. Each turn, the players relate to the referee what their character's actions and undertakings will be, and the referee moderates the resultant occurrences. The gamemaster takes all actions into account, and relates the appropriate information on various happenings to the players as seen through the eyes of their characters.

When characters' actions are appropriate for moving the action to the tabletop, the time frame changes to the lower level, and the larger campaign's goings-on are suspended until the tabletop action is resolved. Once that is done, the rest of the whole moves on, with the results of the tabletop action reflected in the ongoing and ever-changing situation.

The mention of a "campaign turn" immediately caught my attention. From context, it would seem that the actions of such a turn are "high level" actions distinct from those capable of being adjudicated on the tabletop, like combat or movement. Unfortunately, there's no explicit discussion of the precise nature of these campaign actions, though one can somewhat intuit their nature from other discussions in this section. For example,

The roles and objectives assigned to the participants should be commensurate with the scope of the campaign. Thus, if the map covers a large area and the duration is expected to be several game years, players would represent major characters: large ranchers, outlaw leaders, sheriffs, Indian chiefs, cavalry commanders, and so on – each with many figures to operate or command. Objectives would likewise be broad. On the other hand, a campaign taking place in a small county with but a town or two would have participants cast in less grandiose roles and with smaller objectives – i.e., an outlaw's objectives might be to lead a gang of desperadoes into town, rob the bank, escape to a hideout, and lay low for a month before pulling another job.

Again, there are few specifics here and the specifics that are offered belong to the "small county" campaign and, even then, they strike me as the kind of thing that would be more likely to be played out on the tabletop than through a "campaign turn." 

The referee should keep copies of all starting statistics and changes made by all pertinent characters in the campaign, with special care taken for the player characters (who may also want to keep suitable records of their own). For example, the referee may inform each player at the start of the game as to his characters' cash on hand, equipment, animals, and possessions owned, hirelings/associates/friends, and so on. Thus, rancher Longhoop starts with $671 and a herd of 600 head of longhorns. During the course of the first couple of game months he hires three extra hands, makes a cattle drive which mysteriously picks up several hundred additional doggies along the way, and sells off the lot. At that point he could then have $9,004 and 325 head of cattle.

Orders for the actions of characters in each campaign turn can be given orally, but referees may wish to consider requiring written orders from each player to have a record of all desired undertakings.

I am absolutely awful when it comes to campaign record keeping. I frequently rely on my players to remind me of many details, which is why I think the idea of keeping written records of campaign actions is probably a good idea. I'm reminded once again of Diplomacy, whose play demands written orders from all the players each turn. Indeed, I continue to suspect that, for all the talk of the importance of Braunstein and its derivatives, Diplomacy may well be an equally important (and overlooked) component in understanding how early RPG campaigns were played. 

Boot Hill: Campaigns (Part I)

Boot Hill devotes several pages in the middle of its 32-page rulebook to campaigns.

The full flavor and scope of BOOT HILL comes out in campaign play, with numerous players vying, through the use of their game characters, for a wide assortment of goals and objectives. The interplay of personalities (on both sides of the law) can be fascinating and fun, and a well-run campaign with a competent gamemaster and a good assortment of players will be a satisfying endeavor for all. Campaigns should be tailored to suit the preferences of the players, but some general guidelines are here. All campaigns require an impartial referee. 

 None of this is new. The game's introduction already covered a lot of the same ground. Nevertheless, I personally find it gratifying to see yet another suggestion that roleplaying reaches its zenith in campaign play – and by "campaign play," the author means an open-ended and player-directed series of sessions with a shared continuity, overseen by "an impartial referee." There's no mention here of "story" or "plot," just "players vying ... for a wide assortment of goals and objectives." 

The person taking the role of gamemaster is a pivotal figure, for it is her or she that will shoulder the principal responsibility for all aspects of play. The referee should thus be a person who has a good working knowledge of the rules.

This is just common sense.

A referee should be impartial, and should moderate the action without interfering in the course if might take. The referee will be in charge of processing and revealing all information as the campaign goes on, and this "limited intelligence" aspect will greatly add interest, since not every character will be aware of all that is happening. 

This conception of the referee is clearly derived from miniatures wargaming, which only makes sense, as the entire hobby of roleplaying arose out of it. More interesting to me is the statement that the referee's primary job is not to direct the action of the campaign – that's the purview of the players – but to "moderate the action without interfering in the course it might take." That's very different than the way a referee, game master, or Dungeon Master is generally conceived of nowadays (and, if I'm honest, most of the time that I've been playing RPGs).

The gamemaster provides background for the players, and the scope of the campaign will be determined by the referee's judgment. The referee's decisions will be important in many instances, and the players must accept the judgments accordingly. 

The referee, then, establishes the status quo ante for the campaign, including its locale, major NPCs, conflicts, etc. Much of the rest is left to the players.

Two campaign scenarios are included in this booklet – one which is quasi-historical, and another which is completely fictional. These can provide the beginnings of a campaign in themselves, or an independent campaign can be started "from scratch," if desired. In any event, players can make up their own roles in such settings by rolling the dice to determine their character's abilities and then choosing a personal role or occupation. The objectives of each character can then be outlined by the referee, and these are the goals each will seek as the campaign goes on. 

The two campaign scenarios referenced above both take place in the fictional Promise City at different periods in history (1876 and 1890). The earlier of the two scenarios is "quasi-historical" in that it involves a gambling competition that attracts famous historical gamblers to the town, like Johnny Ringo and Bat Masterson. Otherwise, however, it's entirely fictional in nature, as is the later 1890 scenario. Notably, this paragraph seems to suggest that it's the referee rather than the players, who decides the objectives of each character. I suppose this might only apply in circumstances where the referee is working from a pre-generated scenario, such as those in the Boot Hill rules, but it's a bit unclear. Ultimately, though, what's most important is that campaign play proceeds according to the principle that characters have "goals" that they will seek and the bulk of the campaign's action derives from their attempting to do so.

Boot Hill Introduction (Part III)

The introduction to Boot Hill continues. 

A campaign could be run with as few as 4 players and a referee, although a referee is not strictly necessary in smaller games, since players as a group can decide any questionable situations and together can put a check on any actions which tend to disrupt the smooth flow of a game (shooting anything which moves, for instance, quickly brings the wrath of the other players and the law down upon the head of the offender). 

Once again, we see the distinction between a "game" and a "campaign." Equally interesting in my opinion is the suggestion that the players can not only handle certain aspects of play themselves without the need for a referee, but they can also be self-regulating in the sense of preventing one another from going against the spirit of the game. Nevertheless –

A referee is always preferable in any size campaign, and is a must for larger undertakings (which could easily encompass as many as 20 different roles). When the referee moderates the action, there is a secrecy aspect which the platers can work to advantage and which can greatly add to the interest of the campaign. Thus, the referee can relate information individually to each player depending upon the actions and position of his own character, and each character will have his own outlook on the game situation, since there will often be developments "behind the scenes" which will not be common knowledge to all. Likewise, secret plans can be made and related to the referee without the other players knowing of what transpires.

I've talked before about the need for large groups of players in our RPG campaigns, so I'm pleased to see that Boot Hill is yet another game that explicitly supports this kind of play. The discussion of secrecy is good, too. In my youth, I ran a short Top Secret campaign in which each of the three players was working for a different agency and all of them were tasked with adversarial goals. I also did something similar in my youthful Gangbusters campaign and that worked pretty well.

In a campaign situation, each player character will have his own identity and abilities (these are determined by dice rolling, with a slight advantage to allow player characters to be above the norm). If this character is killed, the player will have to take on another persona in the campaign (sometimes starting "from scratch" again in a similar character, or in a position which is completely unrelated to the former).

The idea that a player character should have "a slight advantage" so that he is "above the norm" is notable. Many post-D&D TSR roleplaying games included ability score generation schemes that were skewed in player character's favor. 

Note, however, that in a large game, a player could conceivably take on the role of two different characters if carefully arranged and monitored by the referee. In such an instance, the two roles would have to be completely independent and not subject to conflict or possible cooperation. For instance, a player could have one role as a major rancher who is seeking to expand his holdings and another character who is an outlaw specializing in stagecoach robberies. Obviously, these two characters would have little cause to cooperate or conflict with each other, so such an arrangement would provide two characters for the campaign (assuming the referee was agreeable) rather than only one. 

When I started playing RPGs, it was a widely accepted truth that no player should play more than one character in a session. However, most players had more than one character in the campaign and would often swap between them, based on interest and the context of the scenario on offer. That approach seems very similar to what's been suggested here.

Campaigns can be as small or as expansive as desired, centering on a single town or a large geographical area. Preparation can be minimal or as extensive as desired. While it is possible to structure rigid scenarios, free-form play will usually be more interesting and challenging. It is easy to set up a town, give a few background details, and allow the participants free rein thereafter. In no time at all lawmen will arrest troublemakers, gunfights will take place, and Wells Fargo will lose yet another payroll to masked outlaws. This game isn't named BOOT HILL without reason!

He makes it sound so easy!  

Fortunately, there's an entire section of the rulebook dedicated to the creation and running of a Boot Hill campaign. I'll be taking a closer look at it in another series of upcoming posts.

Boot Hill Introduction (Part II)

The question of whether Boot Hill is actually a roleplaying game is an interesting one, especially since the introduction to the game addresses this:

Playing BOOT HILL is quite simple. Since it is a role-playing game, each player participating takes on the persona of an individual character and controls his actions. In some cases, henchmen or associates will also be under his direction. In any event, the player takes the role of his character for the time that that individual is involved in the game situation (death, for instance, or a long jail term could remove that character from the game). The player makes the same decisions his character would make in the conduct of affairs (either in the heat of a gunfight if such a game is being played out on the tabletop, or the day-to-day activities if it is a campaign situation), and the combined actions of the entire cast of players as a whole (plus actions by non-player characters_ make up an ever-changing game situation which is much like the unfolding story of a novel or movie script – except that no one knows exactly what might result or how the story might ultimately turn out!

While there's a lot to unpack in the quote above, I want to focus on only two portions of it. First, the introduction is quite clear that its author (Gary Gygax and/or Brian Blume) unambiguously sees Boot Hill as a roleplaying game and explains what he means by that. Second, and relatedly, the author seemingly makes a distinction between "tabletop" play and "campaign" play. The former he associates with gunfighting, while the latter he associates with "day-to-day activities," though he doesn't (yet) explain he means by that. I can't recall this distinction ever being made in any other RPG, so this caught my attention.

This unpredictability and open-ended nature is what makes any role-playing game enjoyable, and the often fast and furious action of BOOT HILL gives it an excitement all its own. Players should strive to take on the role of their game character and fully immerse themselves in the very enjoyable fantasy aspect of the game. If they do so, they will enjoy it even more ...

I very much agree with this, of course. 

Pre-arranged scenarios can be used for individual games (two such scenarios, THE GUNFIGHT AT THE OK CORRAL and THE BATTLE OF COFFEYVILLE, are included as appendices in this booklet) – and these games can be historically-based or constructed in any way desired. Setting up a bank robbery scenario, for instance, would be easy – splitting up the players as outlaws, citizens, sheriff, deputy, bank personnel, etc., arranging the location of buildings involved (using the town map provided or one drawn especially for the scenario), and handling any pursuit cross-country by using a hex map (which could be the fictional area map within the game). The abilities and rating of individual players are determined by dice rolling in the manner described in a following section (see SETTING UP GAME CHARACTERS), and once this is done, the starting location of each character is noted, and play begins. It is suggested that the first few games played be unrelated games of this type which (while enjoyable) will basically serve as training sessions.

Here, the author makes it clearer what he might mean by "game," namely a "pre-arranged scenario" with a very specific purpose, like a bank robbery or other gunfight. 

Once players are familiar with the game rules and mechanics, they will find that the most enjoyable games are those that are tied together as part of a larger campaign (see CAMPAIGNS). In such a situation, past events are reflected as closely as possible in successive games, and each player has a stake in the future as well as a place in the status quo. Since platers are in different positions with different objectives (as well as on both sides of the law), there will be enough conflict and contention to provide for plenty of interesting action (which will include the inevitable gunfights and shootouts which can be played as tabletop games). Some typical character roles (depending on the size of the campaign) would be: outlaws, lawmen (sheriff, deputy, Texas ranger, etc.), ranchers (cattlemen or sheep rancher), Indian chiefs, gamblers, bounty hunters, hired guns, drifters, and so on. 

Here, "game" would seem to be a synonym for a "session" of play, in contrast with a "campaign," which is a series of successive games linked by past events. In any case, it's worth noting that a Boot Hill campaign as envisaged here involves, as I pointed out in my earlier post, player conflict, since the interests of the characters will not always align. Furthermore, this conflict is intended to be one of the drivers of "interesting action" within the campaign, leading to, among other things, "inevitable gunfights and shootouts" – in short, a wargame-y "player versus player" frame.

My friends and I never played Boot Hill for very long and thus never had the chance to use it for a campaign. What we did do was run one-off scenarios in which players took on different roles that were often at odds with one another – outlaws versus lawmen, etc. – and played out their battles with the map and counters the boxed set included. We had fun with this, but we treated it not much differently than we did other tabletop battle games rather than as an adjunct to something more, as the introduction suggests.

We'll wrap up our look at the introduction in my next post, but there's still a lot more to examine about Boot Hill beyond that, as subsequent posts will show.

Boot Hill Credits

I've been re-reading the second edition of Boot Hill recently. There's a lot in it that I'd forgotten and that I think worthy of comment, but I'll save that for an upcoming post. For now, I simply want to draw attention to the game's credits. In addition to crediting the game's designers, editors, and artists, it also lists the names of its playtesters, along with the characters they played. For anyone interested in the history of the hobby, it's fascinating stuff:

Jim "Gatling Gun" Ward (Julio Diego Garcia)
Mike "Hellfire & Brimstone" Carr (Dwayne De Truthe, and the Douglas Gang)
Rob "Shoot 'Em Up" Kuntz (The Moonwaltz Kid)
"Dastardly Dave" Megarry (Dastardly Dave Slade)
Dave Arneson (Ben Cartwheel of The Ponderous Ranch)
Gary "I Own It All" Gygax (Mr. G)
Terry "Hotshot" Kuntz (Mason Dix)
Tim "Elect Me!" Kask (Tim McCall)
Ernie "Scatter Gun" Gygax (Ernie Sloan)
Brian "Buckshot" Blume (The Referee)

The list is a veritable who's who of the early days of TSR Hobbies, which I suppose shouldn't really be a surprise, since this edition was released in 1979. The player nicknames are quite amusing and I suspect they relate to events from the campaign. 

Appendix D of Boot Hill includes a list of fictional non-player characters, many of whose names match those listed in parentheses above, suggesting they're the names of player characters. This list includes not only these characters' names but also their game statistics and profession. For example, Mr. G, Gary Gygax's character, is described as a "rancher." That probably explains the "I Own It All" nickname above. Meanwhile, Mike Carr's character, Dwayne De Truthe, is a preacher and Tim Kask's Tim McCall is a saloon keeper and gamber (and presumably a would-be politician).

I absolutely adore lists like this. Frankly, I wish we knew more about the play of early RPG campaigns by people who'd eventually go on to make an impact on the hobby. I wish, for example, that I had a similar list for the Traveller campaigns played by the GDW crew. Perhaps I'll have to press Marc Miller about this when I see him at Gamehole Con this October.

Polyhedron: Issue #1

Polyhedron was the newsletter of the Role Playing Game Association (RPGA), TSR's official "club" for players of its various RPG offerings. When the first issue appeared during the summer of 1981, it wasn't called Polyhedron yet but rather the much more banal "RPGA News." A contest to give it a proper name is mentioned, but it will be several more issues before the winner is announced. Darlene provided an original illustration for the cover, one of several provided in issue #1 by her and other early TSR artists, like Greg Bell, Jeff Dee, Dave LaForce, and Erol Otus. 

Polyhedron is notable for, among other things, providing Frank Mentzer with a regular soapbox from which to preach, since he was Polyhedron's inaugural editor. Mentzer was later responsible for the revision of the Dungeons & Dragons line, starting in 1983. That version of the game, consisting of the Basic, Expert, Companion, Master, and Immortals boxed sets, was reputedly the best-selling one of its first quarter-century, and remains much beloved by generations of players. However, it was through his association with the RPGA and Polyhedron that Mentzer first made a name for himself.

The newsletter's first issue opens with a "letters page," an odd choice since, as Mentzer admits, "there were no letters to the editor" yet. Instead, he presents "a few incomplete comments plus one letter from the DRAGON™ files." Most of these "incomplete comments" are mere ephemera, but one of them is longer and worth discussing. Its unnamed author (known only as "DB" from Montgomery, Alabama) offers up a house rule from his home AD&D campaign. Mentzer reply is as follows:

Concern about AD&D rules variants started to become commonplace in official TSR circles around this time, with "international tournament stability" (or similar things) being offered as an explanation of the company's skepticism toward them. This stance would harden as the years wore on, with Gary Gygax taking up the cause through his own soapbox in the pages of Dragon.

"Dispel Confusion" was Polyhedron's version of "Sage Advice," offering official answers to rules queries about TSR's RPGs. Initially, this column differed from "Sage Advice" in that there was no single author. Instead, Polyhedron tapped multiple TSR designers for answers. In this issue, the designers are Lawrence Schick, David Cook, and Harold Johnson, but I suspect future issues will see different ones included in the roster.

The issue devotes four pages to a lengthy and genuinely interesting interview with Gary Gygax. The interview is wide ranging, so it'd be impossible to do it justice with a short summary. Previously, I've covered a couple of portions of it on this blog, so I'd recommend talking a look at those posts for a glimpse into the kinds of things Gygax says. I'll probably return to the interview again in the future to highlight other sections of note. Suffice it to say that, as with all Gygax interviews, it's a mix of truths, half-truths, and dissimulations – absolutely fascinating stuff but it must be approached with some degree of suspicion.

"The Fastest Guns That Never Lived" by Brian Blume, with Allen Hammack, Gary Gygax, and Tim Kask is an article for Boot Hill. Its title riffs off a section in the game's rulebook, "Fastest Guns That Ever Lived Chart," which provides statistics for historical gunfighters from the Old West. By contrast, the article provides stats for fictional characters from Western media, like the Lone Ranger, Bret Maverick, and Ben Cartwright, as well as composite stats for actors who portrayed a number of different characters. It's a fun little article and the kind of thing that aficionados of Westerns can argue about. In case anyone cares, Clint Eastwood's characters have the highest Gun Accuracy rating (+22), closely followed by those of Lee Van Cleef (+21). 

"Notes for the Dungeon Master" is a collection of eleven short descriptions of "really good, relatively unknown trick[s] or trap[s]" for use with Dungeons & Dragons. As with all such articles, how much one enjoys it depends heavily on one's tastes and experience. For me, the descriptions are all fine but not phenomenal. "The Fight in the Skies Game" by Mike Carr is a brief overview of the World War I aerial combat game that would soon be revised as Dawn Patrol. "An Open Letter to Frank Mentzer" by Merle Rasmussen is similar, if much shorter, in that it's mostly a plug for Top Secret and its continuing support by TSR.

"Gen Con® South Report" is, as its title suggests, a report of events at TSR's convention in Jacksonville, Florida earlier in 1981. I sometimes forget that, once upon a time, there are a number of reginal Gen Cons, though none of them survived past the '80s so far as I know. The article focuses primarily on the results of tournaments at the con. However, it does include a photo of the top winner, Matthew Rupp and his fellow gamers, which I found very charming.

The last article is "Gamma World Science Fantasy – A Role Playing Game with a Difference" by James A. [sic] Ward. Like the previous articles on Dawn Patrol and Top Secret, this one is simply a plug for Gamma World and its upcoming support by TSR. It's fine, but then I have an inordinate fondness for Gamma World (and the decades-long, unfulfilled promises of a revision of Metamorphosis Alpha compatible with it). Closing out the issue is a full-page comic by Tom Wham called "Rocksnoz in the Land of Nidd." If you're a fan of Mr Wham's work, you'll likely enjoy this one too. I'd never seen it before, so it was definitely a treat for me.

There you have it: issue #1 of Polyhedron and the start of a new series of retrospectives on a gaming periodical of yore. I suspect this series will not run as long as my previous one on White Dwarf, because I have access to fewer issues and because (due to its not being monthly until very late in its run) there are simply fewer issues to review. Nevertheless, I'm looking forward to this one, if only as a dose of nostalgia for my days as a TSR fanboy. 

Dedication

When I was re-reading the Dungeons & Dragons Companion Rules before writing yesterday's retrospective post, I was surprised by the final paragraph of the set's preface, which reads:

This game is like a huge tree, grown from the seeds planted in 1972 and even earlier. But as a plant needs water and sun, so does a game need proper "backing" – a company to make it. As the saying goes, "for want of a nail, the war was lost"; and for want of a company the D&D game might have been lost amidst the lean and turbulent years of the last decade. This set is therefore dedicated to an oft-neglected leader of TSR, Inc; who, with Gary Gygax, founded this company and made it grow. The D&D Companion Set is dedicated to 

BRIAN BLUME  

Brian Blume is a figure from the early days of the hobby who, when he's remembered at all, is usually demonized, in large part, I suppose, because of the roles he and his brother, Kevin, played in the "exile" of Gary Gygax to California (to head up TSR Entertainment) and in facilitating the takeover of the company by the even more demonized Lorraine Williams. Leaving aside my own feelings on the matter, I nevertheless find it remarkable that Frank Mentzer, who often talks about "my friend, Gary" in reference to Gygax, would, at this late a date, write so glowingly about Blume. 

At the time the D&D Companion was published (1984), tensions between Gygax and Blumes were already well past the boiling point. Indeed, Gygax would soon begin his Cent-Jours, returning from Hollywood, replacing Blue as president and CEO of TSR, and attempting to right the company's direction by a whirlwind program of publishing books like Unearthed Arcana and Oriental Adventures, among many others. Ultimately, this attempt failed and Blume and his brother were instrumental in assuring that failure. 

Given all of this, why did Mentzer go out of his way to include this dedication? The cynic in me wants to believe that this was mere flattery of the boss, since Blume was still in charge of TSR at the time the Companion was in production. Equally plausible is that Mentzer simply felt, as I do too, that, whatever else you may think of him, Brian Blume did play an important and indeed pivotal role in ensuring that TSR and, more significantly, Dungeons & Dragons, came into existence. For that, he deserved genuine thanks and appreciation, hence the dedication.

More Gygax and Blume Photos

Thanks to Thaddeus Moore, I have two more photographs of Gary Gygax and Brian Blume to share, both from the Lake Geneva Regional News. The photographs were taken on the occasion of "Founder's Day," the anniversary of the founding of TSR Hobbies and feature Brian Blume and his brother, Kevin, along with Gary Gygax.

This photo is from October 2, 1981. If you look closely, you can see that there are two cake, one of which features the TSR corporate logo and the other of which shows the faces of Gygax and the Blume brothers.

This photo appeared on November 15, 1984, but was probably taken earlier. This celebration of Founder's Day (the ninth) was a masquerade party, with Gygax in some sort of hooded robe, while Brian Blume is dressed as a cowboy (hardly surprising, given his fondness for the genre).

At the Table

Does anyone know where/when this photograph is from? A reader sent it to me recently and asked if I could identify it. The two men are obviously Gary Gygax and Brian Blume. Based on the products displayed on the table in front of them, I'd peg the year to be sometime in 1981. Beyond that, I couldn't really say. Was this a promotional image produced by TSR? Did it accompany a newspaper or magazine article? I'd love to know more, if anyone has any insight into its origins.

Imagine Magazine: Issue #30

And so we come to the final regular issue of Imagine magazine, issue #30, which appeared in September 1985 (there is also a Pelinore-focused special edition dated October 1985, which I do not own). The issue is another special one, dedicated to the subject of Vikings, with a cover by Richard Clifton-Dey. There is a brief editorial by Keith Thorrson, commending the issue's contents but no indication that the periodical would be ending, which suggests the decision to kill Imagine was a surprise to its staff. Back in the USA at the time, TSR was in a state of chaos, with the power struggle between Gary Gygax, the Blume Brothers, and, later, Lorraine Williams in high gear. This struggle had financial implications too, with layoffs and the shedding of assets to deal with debts. It's quite likely that Imagine was collateral damage of all of this, but I can't say that for certain.

"Viking!" by Graeme Davis is a lengthy (6-page) article providing aid to referees and players on how to integrate various aspects of Norse society, culture, and myth into D&D and AD&D. It's a fine article but necessarily more of an outline than a detailed plan of how to bring these RPGs more in accord with the world of the Vikings. David Hill's "Rune Magic" is similar, though much shorter and narrower in its scope. "None for mortal men doomed to die …" by Carole Morris is an overview of the Volsüng saga, with some very brief notes on how it provides inspiration for Norse-themed RPG campaigns. 

Venetia Lee and Reif Dormann offer "Icelanders," which briefly describes the history and legends of medieval Iceland. It's fine as far as it goes but, like most of the content in this issue, is very light on game material and much more heavily focused on "real world" information – not bad by any means but less than I'd have hoped in a roleplaying games magazine. "Ragnarok!" – lots of exclamation points in this issue! – is a Battlesystem scenario based on the mythical Norse battle between the Aesir and the Giants. I have no idea how well it would play but the concept is an excellent one. "The Norse Planes of Gladsheim" by Rod Stevenson provides details on the home of the Norse gods, according to the cosmology of AD&D. Again, it's fine, given its limited scope, but it doesn't compare to the Roger E. Moore's treatment of the same subject in the pages of Dragon. 

This month's Pelinore piece is actually a collection of three entries, the Asylum, the Deathcart, and the Waxworks (the first two by Brian Garrod and the other by Linda Moore), each of which includes NPC descriptions and ideas for scenarios involving them. The tone and content of these entries reminds me quite a bit of early Warhammer Fantasy Role Play and points toward many of the things I tend to associate with 1980s British fantasy: black humor and general grottiness. Carl Sargent's "Dispel Confusion Special" continues what was begun last issue by tackling cleric and druid spells. Reviews cover a large selection of TSR products for AD&D, D&D, Marvel Super Heroes, and Indiana Jones, along with products for Twilight: 2000, MERP, and TOON. Neil Gaiman's "Fantasy Media" looks at the movies Legend and A View to a Kill (both of which he disliked) and Ttrancers (which he enjoyed), in addition to The Wishsong of Shannara, which he calls "a must for those who like fantasy trilogies with silly names." "Fanscene" continues with more letters and opinion pieces about the state of the hobby, while Roger Musson's "Stirge Corner" the oddities of AD&D's hit point and armor class systems – still contentious topics today.

As I expected, I find myself feeling slightly saddened by conclusion of Imagine's run. The final issue, like so many of its predecessors, is a mixed bag that points toward the potential the periodical had even as it also highlights its flaws. I've been attempting to reach out to some of the principals involved in Imagine, with the hope that I might be able to arrange interviews with them to talk about their memories and experiences of those day. So far I've met only limited success but I'll keep trying, because I'd love to know more about those days. The mid-80s were a fascinating time of transition in the hobby on both sides of the Atlantic and I'd love to learn more about it from people directly involved in it. Until then, I'll be moving on to a new magazine next week, Chaosium's Different Worlds, which ran for forty-seven issues between 1979 and 1987.

Retrospective: Star Empires

Star Empires, subtitled "The Game of Galactic Conquest," is the 1977 sequel to Star Probe. Like its predecessor, John M. Snider is credited as the designer, though it's my understanding that several others, most notably Brian Blume, contributed to the published version of the game. Also like it's predecessor, Star Empires "is an open-ended game that, in the words of Mike Carr's foreword, is not a game which is simply set up and played in a single setting. It is, above all, a game campaign system which can be most effectively run by a referee and numerous players who may be exploring and acting independently of each other. Depending upon the referee and his methods of moderating the game, the play can unfold in many ways and along many avenues."

As I regularly mention on this blog, I have only very limited experience with wargames (though I've begun to correct this). Consequently, I have no experience whatsoever with a refereed wargame, though it's a form in which I have come to have a great deal of interest. In fact, I've been toying with a design of my own that takes this form (for those interested, it's an adjunct to my Thousand Suns RPG). Reading Star Empires then was an eye-opening, even thrilling, experience for me and, while there's no question that, as a game, its reach exceeds its grasp, it's nevertheless an inspiring design. 

Star Empires differs from Star Probe in that it actually presents a setting of its own. The game begins with a timeline that stretches all the way back to 10,000 BC and into the future almost as far. This setting references several historical empires that rose and fell, the last of which collapsed, ushering in an interstellar dark age. This re-contextualizes the game play of Star Probe, which serves as the "basic" version of Star Empires. That is, Star Empires isn't merely a sequel to Star Probe but more or less requires that you have played it and will be building upon the results of that game play. (It's true you can play Star Empires alone – there are simple rules that cover most of what is elaborated upon in Star Probe – but that's clearly not the intention)

I don't think I can do justice to the scope and complexity of Star Empires without having the chance to play it. There are rules (and tables) for adjudicating colonization, mining, relations between empires (including NPC empires), income, and, of course, combat. There are even rules for social and historical events, which is something in which I'm very interested. It's an impressive rules set, since it covers nearly everything one might wish in a game like this. Nearly. That's why a referee is recommended, since there will necessarily be many instances when the rules do not cover every possible contingency. Further, even in the case of instances for which there are rules, determining how to apply them might require some judgment calls. Take a look, for example, at this chart:

That's simultaneously wondrous and ridiculous. It's a Gamma World-style flow chart, with random roll results and arrows to aid in determining the flow of social development. I adore the ambition of it, but I wonder how well it actually works in play. Star Empires abounds in these things, packing quite a lot of options into a 72-page rulebook. My feeling is that, despite all the charts and tables, it's still more of a sketch toward a game rather than a complete conflict simulation in its own right. Of course, that was very much in keeping with the ethos of the era, the one out of which roleplaying games grew. I think that's why reading Star Empires was so revelatory to me: it exemplifies even more clearly the nimble, flexible, and downright unbounded nature of "experimental" wargaming. This is where our hobby was born and why I plan to spend more time with Star Empires in the week's to come.

Let me end with an indulgent aside. Star Empires includes numerous pieces of art by David C. Sutherland III, many of which are really good. Take this one, for example:

Clearly, this appeals to my spacesuit fetish. More than that, though, it's further evidence that Sutherland could do more than fantasy artwork. I absolutely love this particular piece and wish DCS had been given the chance to do more SF illustrations during his time at TSR.

When Gary Met James

James M. Ward's interview in issue #3 of Polyhedron (Winter 1981–1982) contains many interesting pieces of historical trivia, such as this story of how Gary Gygax first became acquainted with him.

Fascinating stuff, is it not? Whenever I do interviews, my first question is usually "how do you become involved in the hobby of roleplaying?" I ask it because I think the answers are genuinely revealing, not just about the individual in question but also about the various pathways they took into the hobby. Many of them had a mentor, someone who introduced them to roleplaying and colored their initial perspective on it. Apparently, James Ward was among them, except that his mentors were Gary Gygax and Brian Blume! It's notable, too, that it was a shared love of fantasy literature that helped forge the bond between them. The connection between pulp fantasies and the early hobby is one that's fueled many posts on this blog and I continue to delve into the matter, even if it's a much more well known and documented topic now than it was years ago. In any case, the Polyhedron interview with Ward is a terrific one, well worth reading. 

Your Mother Was a Martian

These rules are strictly fantasy Those wargamers who lack imagination, those who don't care for Burroughs' Martian adventures where John Carter is groping through black pits, who feel no thrill upon reading Howard's Conan saga, who do not enjoy the de Camp & Pratt fantasies or Fritz Leiber's Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser putting their swords against evil sorceries will not be likely to find DUNGEONS & DRAGONS to their taste.

The seminal influence of Robert E. Howard and Fritz Leiber on the creation of Dungeons & Dragons is well established, I think. The role of L. Sprague de Camp and Fletcher Pratt is probably less known, given how few people have even heard of, let alone read, the Harold Shea series. Even less known, I think, is the influence of the Barsoom stories of Edgar Rice Burroughs. And yet he's the very first author whom Gary Gygax mentions in the "forward" [sic] to Volume 1 of original D&D. 

Consider, too, Gygax's words in the (again misspelled) "forward" to Warriors of Mars, written less than a year later.

Worlds of heroic fantasy are many, but perhaps the best known of them all is the Barsoom of Edgar Rice Burroughs, where John Carter, Tars Tarkas, Dejah Thoris, etal [sic] adventure endlessly in eternal youth.

I don't think there can be any question that Gygax highly esteemed the Barsoom stories, which are included even in Appendix N (though, it should be noted, Burroughs is not listed among "the most immediate influences" upon AD&D). 

OD&D contains multiple references to Mars, such as the tables for wilderness wandering monsters in Volume 3. The column for "Desert" has a parenthetical note "(Mars)," with entries for Red, Black, Yellow, and White Martians, as well as for Tharks. There's also an "Optional Arid Plains" column with entries for Apts, Banths, Thoats, Calots, White Apes, Orluks, Siths, Darseen, and Banths. Now, none of these beings or creatures are given any game stats and indeed it wouldn't be until the 1981 Moldvay Basic Rules that this would change, when one of these – the white ape, albeit with only two arms – finally appeared in print. Additionally, Mars is cited as an example of another world where one might set D&D adventures.

As it turns out, Gygax did just that. One of his son Ernie's characters was called Erac's Cousin and had an adventure on what is quite clearly the Mars of John Carter. One retelling of his exploits can be found here, from which I quote the following:

One of Erac's Cousin's more memorable adventures occurred after he spotted a strange red star in the night sky. He drifted off to sleep thinking of the strange star and when he awoke he discovered he had been transported to Mars. To his surprise he arrived stark naked. Soon after his arrival, the mage was attacked by the Cannibals of Ugor. Much to his dismay, he discovered that magic didn’t work there, and he was forced to fight toe-to-toe with the bloodthirsty cannibals using nothing more than a tree branch. In time the unnamed adventurer adapted and ultimately excelled in is new environment. Due to the planet's low gravity the marooned wizard's strength was heroic. He could leap 20 to 40 feet into the air, and much further than that forward. During the many months that he spent there, being unable to use magic, Erac's Cousin began training as a fighter. Instead of using magic to defeat his enemies, he would now cut them down with a sword. Before returning to Oerth he had slaughtered hoards of Green Martians, and organized an escape from the mines of the Yellow Martians. Finally he discovered a method of returning to Greyhawk. He found Oerth in the night sky before going to sleep and when he awoke he was back home. Unfortunately his arrival home was similar to his arrival on Mars; naked. He had left a fortune behind on the red planet.

Erac's Cousin's awakening on Mars naked recapitulates Carter's own experiences and, if the reference to multiple colors of Martians were not enough of a giveaway, there are the Cannibals of U-Gor, which appeared in the 1930 story, A Fighting Man of Mars. Issue #3 of the first volume of The Strategic Review (Autumn 1975) features an article on randomly generating ruined Martian cities by James M. Ward. It's not specifically associated with OD&D, but it's another example of Barsoomian content in a TSR product. 

I think it is unquestionable that the fantasy genre as we understand it today – and hence the roleplaying games that derive from it – owes its existence largely to Edgar Rice Burroughs's stories of Barsoom, which even a youthful H.P. Lovecraft regarded highly (he would distance himself from them later in life) and which inspired generations of imitators and pasticheurs, including such luminaries as Robert E. Howard and Michael Moorcock. That Gygax, give his age and fondness for pulp literature, would have likewise admired and drawn upon these same stories should surprise no one. Nevertheless, I think the influence of Barsoom on D&D's development is underappreciated and ought to be known more widely.

Imagine Magazine: Issue #11

Once again, Imagine has a very striking cover, this time  by artist Peter Knifton. Also of interest is that issue #11 (February 1984) features the banner "For players of Dungeons & Dragons," which had not been there previously. Previous issues had had occasional articles about other RPGs, but it was still predominantly focused on D&D. I suspect that the addition of this banner was by order of TSR in the USA, based on a news item mentioned later in the issue, which mentions a visit to the TSR UK offices by Gary Gygax and the Blume brothers, Kevin and Brian. I would be quite surprised if there were not a connection, but I am deeply cynical.

"The Adventures of Nic Novice" by Jim Bambra and Paul Ruiz continue, this time focusing on interacting with intelligent monsters in a non-violent fashion. The player characters encounter a kobold prisoner of some orcs they just slew. The kobold offers to help the PCs if they will free him, but Norva Ironarms – Nic's character – wonders whether the creature is leading the party into a trap. This is actually a useful little article, not just in presenting the pros and cons of parleying with monsters, but also for the way it sheds light on how to differentiate characters of the same class through roleplaying. For perhaps the first time, I see some value in this feature (though, as I've repeatedly said, it's not intended for old hands of the game).

Roger Musson's "Stirge Corner" tackles the vexing issue of D&D's weights and measures, including units of time. He's right to do so, I think, because D&D has always been a welter of systems and units, often to the point of confusion. "The Cavalier" by Gary Gygax is a reprint of the article that originally appeared in Dragon #72 (April 1983), as is "Social Status and Birth Tables," also by Gygax but from issue #70 (February 1983). These were articles I really enjoyed at the table, but, in retrospect, I have far less positive feelings about them (that's probably a topic for another time). Complementing these Gygaxian contributions are a pair of articles: "Horse Combat" by Chris Felton and "Orders of the Day" by Carole Felton. The first rules for using lances from horseback, while the second discusses a pair of historical chivalric orders. "Black Roses" is a mini-adventure written with cavaliers in mind; it involves the defense of the town of Braeme against invasion.

"In the Time of Meltingice" is a forgettable piece of fiction by Andrew Darlington. "The Private Lives of NPCs" is more interesting, as it offers a series of questions a referee should ask about his NPCs in order to make them more interesting – and fun – to play. We also get new episodes of the comics "Rubic of Moggedon" and "The Sword of Alabron." The "Illuminations" columns offers up gaming news, as well as sarcasm, this time directed at Avalon Hill's soon-to-be-released Powers & Perils. "The Imagination Machine" talks more about the possibility of the then-nascent technology of personal computing, which is of historical interest but little else.

This month's reviews take on the Traveller adventure Nomads of the World Ocean – a favorite of mine – along with Talisman, James Bond 007, and Lost Worlds. Re-reading these reviews, I was reminded that, even ten years after the appearance of D&D, there's still a great deal of vibrancy in the broader hobby. That's why it's intriguing that it's precisely at this time that Imagine decided to rebrand itself as being a Dungeons & Dragons magazine rather than a general RPG periodical. I will be very curious to see what future issues have to offer.

Retrospective: Warriors of Mars

It's oft been noted that the LBBs contain more references to the Barsoom novels of Edgar Rice Burroughs than to any other fantasy tales and with good reason. Though largely unknown today -- to the point where the ignorant have suggested that the movie John Carter is ripping off the innumerable films inspired by Burroughs -- the Barsoom novels were hugely influential for decades. They are, in many respects, the wellspring from which contemporary fantasy and science fiction flow, even if the debt both genres owe to these seminal books is often unacknowledged.

Gary Gygax, though, was not shy in acknowledging the debt he owed to Burroughs. He mentioned his name in both OD&D and in Appendix N of his AD&D Dungeon Masters Guide and the Greyhawk campaign included at least one expedition to the red sands of Barsoom. Given this, it should probably come as no surprise that, in the same year that OD&D appeared, TSR released a 56-page miniatures wargame entitled Warriors of Mars. Written by Gygax and Brian Blume, this small book provides rules for adjudicating battles, both on the land and in the air, between the various antagonistic cultures of Mars, as envisioned by Burroughs.

If you've never heard of Warriors of Mars, let alone seen a copy, there's a good reason for that. There was, so far as I know, only one print run of the book before the Edgar Rice Burroughs estate contacted TSR about possible infringement of their rights. Rather than risk legal action, the book was never reprinted, making it today one of the rarest -- and most expensive -- TSR products. I've tried in vain to obtain a copy for myself at a reasonable (i.e. not multi-hundred dollar) price for several years now but to no avail. Fortunately, I have known several people who own copies that they've been willing to lend me, so I've at least had the chance to read the book.

Warriors of Mars is not explicitly a roleplaying game; it's a miniatures wargame. However, it wouldn't be difficult to use it as the basis for an RPG, since there are rules for "personalities," like John Carter or Tars Tarkas. Likewise, the rules cover several scales, including 1:1, along with things like experience points, levels, and advice on how to design "personal adventures." Like the Greg Bell artwork used to illustrate it, Warriors of Mars makes for a very crude RPG -- far cruder than even OD&D -- but one could do it, especially if one is prepared to wing it when it came to anything other than combat. Where Warriors of Mars does excel, though, is as an introduction to Barsoom and its various characters, cultures, life forms, and locations. It's no substitute for the novels, of course, but Gygax and Blume cover enough foundational material to get one started if one has no previous knowledge of the works of Burroughs.

Barsoom remains, in my opinion, a great source of inspiration for fantasy roleplaying games. The Red Planet of my Dwimmermount campaign, Areon, owes a lot to Burroughs's conception of Mars (just as my Kythirea, owes a lot to his Amtor). It's my hope that, whatever the virtues or flaws of the Disney movie (I have still yet to see it), it will at least pique some interest in the source material on which it draws. Barsoom is every bit as much the birthplace of D&D -- and the hobby -- as the Hyborian Age or Middle-earth and it deserves to be better known.

Memories of Gary Gygax

Quite a number of people emailed me yesterday to point out a post on Jim Shooter's blog about his meeting with Gary Gygax and some "executives" from TSR back in the Fall of 1981. Of particular interest were these paragraphs:

Gary and his troops talked about what they did. Gary struck me as a brilliant, clever and creative guy.

I was also impressed that his top executives, suit-and-tie business people types who wouldn’t look out of place at MetLife, all knew the game and played the game. They clearly loved D&D.

Then it was our turn to talk about what we did. Galton and the licensing people made it clear that they were far too dignified and sophisticated as human beings to ever read a comic book. They joked about not knowing anything about the comics.

I have to believe the TSR people had to be a little insulted. If Marvel’s execs thought that proper adult business people worried only about dollars and deals, that actually reading the books would be somehow embarrassing, then what might they be thinking of TSR’s game-playing execs?

After reading that, I have to wonder who these "executives" at TSR were. While I don't doubt Shooter's recollection that they, like Gygax, "clearly loved D&D," it does fly in the face of the received view of TSR's history that, by the time the Blume brothers were fully in control (and they were in 1981, as I understand it), the company came increasingly to be run by people who didn't know or care about gaming. Now, maybe at this early stage, the culture of TSR hadn't yet changed, I don't know, but it's nevertheless fascinating to read an outsider's perspective on Gygax and the other TSR-ites he met back in 1981.

Thanks to everyone who pointed me toward this story.

Retrospective: Boot Hill

I've talked before about the influence of Westerns on Dungeons & Dragons, so it's really no surprise that one of the earliest RPGs TSR produced after OD&D would be Western -- Boot Hill. Its original incarnation, which I never saw, was published in 1975 and was written by Brian Blume and Gary Gygax. Historically, this is interesting, because it reminds us (once again) that Brian Blume was not just a monied hanger-on but also a game designer in his own right. It's also a rare example of non-D&D work by Gygax, something one didn't see much of.

The edition I owned was the second, pictured here, which was published as a boxed set in 1979. The set contained a 36-page rulebook, a double-sided map, some counters, and old school percentile dice. As you would expect, the rules are very sparse, focusing largely on combat. Indeed, reading Boot Hill, one is immediately struck by how much more combat-focused it is even than D&D. This isn't surprising, since gunfights, saloon brawls, knife throwing, and the like are the primary things the game is intended to simulate. Most other actions could just be improvised either through roleplaying or simple random adjudication. In this respect, Boot Hill is the epitome of "old school."

Much like Dawn Patrol, there's a sense in which Boot Hill is more of a wargame than a RPG. Its concerns, both mechanically and thematically, are centered on violence in all its myriad forms. To call it, as its subtitle does, a "roleplaying game of the Wild West" is to be fairly generous, even in my eccentric opinion. While there are rules for forming posses, aging, and earning a living, they're quite vestigial. Playing a lengthy Boot Hill campaign would take some remarkable creativity on the part of the referee, even moreso than in OD&D, which at least sketches out an endgame. This gives Boot Hill a vaguely "beer and pretzels" sort of feel to it, as if it were intended primarily as a simulation of Wild West shoot 'em ups rather than anything more ambitious.

I know I never managed to do more with the game than run fistfights and showdowns. We had fun with the rules, but I cannot now tell you the name of a single character or recount a single session of our play in any detail beyond a vague recollection of a character getting access to a Gatling gun and laying waste to a lot of desperadoes who were attacking the town. Perhaps that speaks more to our immaturity, I don't know. Being a big fan of Westerns, I've always wanted to run and/or play in a Western RPG campaign, but, if I ever did so, I doubt I'd turn to Boot Hill to do it. Even with my level of simplicity and do-it-yourself elegance, I'd need to create too much from whole cloth. Thus, Boot Hill is an example of an old school game that I think doesn't live up to its full potential -- a pity.

My Favorite OD&D Supplement

By far and away, my favorite OD&D supplement is the third, Eldritch Wizardry. You might think, given my Gygaxian commitments, that Greyhawk would be my favorite. It's certainly true that I do use a lot of material from Supplement I and in fact consider its additional rules foundational for understanding what Dungeons & Dragons is and how it was meant to be played. When it comes to sheer inspiration, though, Eldritch Wizardry has no equal.

There are several reasons for this. Let's start with the most basic: its appearance. Has D&D ever had a cover for a product as provocative as this one? I know I'm widely regarded in these parts as a stolid stick-in-the-mud, so I hope I won't shock anyone by saying that I really like this cover and not just for obvious reason. What I like here is the simplicity, the starkness of the piece. It's a very suggestive illustration, one that gets me to thinking of Robert E. Howard and Clark Ashton Smith and other writers from the Golden Age of the Pulps. There's also a subtlety to it that I appreciate. Yes, it's an illustration of a naked woman, her hands bound, and laying on a (possibly sacrificial) slab, but, aside from the nearby brazier, there's no real context or action to it. We have to fill in the rest for ourselves. Let me also say that, on some level, I also think the illustration speaks volumes about how the cultures of both the hobby and the industry have changed since 1976, when Supplement III was first published.

The interior of the book is still recognizably that of an OD&D book, but you can see the signs of the format I'll come to associate with AD&D. That's a good thing in my opinion, because, for all my love of OD&D, I'd never argue that its presentation couldn't have stood for some improvement. Eldritch Wizardry is also sees the re-appearance of David Sutherland, whose art strongly resonates with me, despite its flaws. Gone is Greg Bell, whose art filled the little brown books and Greyhawk. We also see the greater use of different type faces -- a small thing perhaps but another shift that shows TSR is becoming more "professional." They're still not quite there and Eldritch Wizardry is still clearly a product of hobbyists for hobbyists, though a much more polished one than previous supplements. For me, that's the sweet spot, so to speak: gaming products by "amateur professionals."

The content of Supplement III, like all OD&D supplements, is a mixed bag. There's a vague thematic element to the book -- "ancient and powerful magic," says its subtitle -- but to attribute anything like an organizing principle to an OD&D product is foolhardy. Still, if you squint your eyes and are charitable, you can see some connections between the various bits included in Eldritch Wizardry. And it's these bits that really get my juices flowing.

• Druids: I have a love/hate relationship with this character class. I think an alternative to the quasi-Christian cleric is a good thing. I also like the somewhat "morally ambiguous" presentation of the druids, which were first presented as a "monster" in Greyhawk. It's noted that druids have a mean streak to them, meting out punishment on those who violate their ethos. Of course, the druid has been thoroughly de-fanged over the years, becoming an airy-fairy tree hugger and I can't stand that. Likewise, the druid is a heavily based around the wilderness, which makes it a much more "situational" class than many others. Still, I can't deny that I have a soft spot for the druid.
• Psionics: Another thing for which I have a love/hate relationship. Gygax famously stated that the inclusion of psionics in D&D was a mistake. I'm not so sure myself. I agree that not every setting needs psionics. Furthermore, having psionics and traditional magic exist side by side can sometimes be too much. Nevertheless, I think there's a place for mental powers in D&D, if only to offer an alternative approach to "magic" that has a different metaphysical and mechanical basis. Indeed, if one's goal were to construct a setting in line with many pulp fantasies, something like psionics might work a great deal better than D&D's standard magic. I will grant that psionics, as presented, is a bit more complex than it needs to be, but, even so, I feel a frisson every time I re-read the psionics rules. Call me sick if you wish.
• Demons: Eldritch Wizardry finally gives OD&D some demons and they're simply terrific. Much as I have always preferred devils for their grandly medieval hierarchies, demons really scratch my pulp fantasy itch. These guys are freaky aberrations for the most part, the stuff of nightmares rather than folklore (for the most part). Some of them are so freaky they even have 10-, 12-, and 20-sided Hit Dice. We're also treated to the Gygaxian penchant for systematization: demons are divided into "types," with the balrog finally finding a new identity under which to set up shop without fear of legal reprisal.
• Mind Flayers and Intellect Devourers: 'Nuff said.
• Artifacts and Relics: Truly the jewel in the crown of Supplement III, artifacts and relics are something I have long wished D&D had expanded upon and developed further. I simply love the idea of magic items whose powers and abilities vary from campaign to campaign. I also adore items that have histories and contexts beyond their purpose in play. And who doesn't get a thrill when they hear the names Vecna, Lum the Mad, Baba Yaga, and St. Cuthbert? I've long argued that magic items need to be more magical. Well, you can't get more magical than these artifacts and relics, which often possess powers and functions that are both quirky and potentially dangerous, just as magic items ought to be.

Eldritch Wizardry is just a lot of fun to read. I can turn to almost any page and find something interesting on it that sparks ideas in my head. In fact, just this morning I noticed a couple of things I'd never noticed before and they inspired me in my thoughts about an upcoming Dwimmermount session. That tends to happen a lot and I think it's a testament to how good a supplement Eldritch Wizardry is -- my favorite out of them all.

Sympathy for the Devil

In the nearly a year since I started this blog -- hard to believe it's been that long! -- I've tried very hard to get information from a variety of sources regarding the history of the hobby in general and of D&D in particular. It's been a fascinating, if regularly frustrating, endeavor and I'm very glad I've undertaken it.

One of the great difficulties I've encountered is that far fewer things about the early days have been documented than I would like. That means having to rely upon the often-incomplete memories of the people involved. Those memories are further cast into some doubt because they've been colored by decades of squabbles, disputes, and rivalries. Anyone who's read the Q&A threads on Dragonsfoot, for example, knows that, while it's been 35 years since the publication of OD&D, many of those associated with its genesis and growth still have decidedly strong feelings about some of the other people associated with them and aren't afraid to make their opinions known.

I'm not surprised by such behavior nor do I find it notably distasteful. Rather, I find it typically human, which is to say, I don't find carrying grudges for decades to be praiseworthy but neither do I condemn anyone who finds it hard to forgive past slights. Being someone who's borne a few grudges well past their sell-by date myself, I understand this phenomenon, even if I am trying very hard to overcome my own participation in it.

Which brings me to Brian Blume. Mere mention of his name is usually enough to send some grognards into fits of apoplexy, as he and his brother, Kevin, are frequently cast in the role of serpents in the Garden of Gygax, the source of all that is evil in the history of TSR. And, to be, fair, the Brothers Blume are responsible for selling their controlling stake in the company to Lorraine Williams in 1985, a vengeful act that had many negative consequences for the hobby and the industry well into the 21st century.

Yet, despite that, I find Brian Blume an intriguing figure. This is the guy who convinced his father to cough up the money necessary to publish OD&D in 1974. This is also the guy who co-authored Eldritch Wizardry, Boot Hill -- a highly underrated RPG -- and Warriors of Mars with Gary Gygax. By some accounts, he's also the creator of Vecna, an anagrammatic homage to Jack Vance. Indeed, Blume was reputedly an even bigger aficionado of pulp fantasy than was Gygax, whose own tastes in fantasy were obviously a bit more catholic.

And yet, so far as I can tell, no one has tracked him down to talk to him about the old days or to attempt to get his perspective on the story of TSR. Maybe someone has and I've just missed it, but, from what I have gathered, Brian Blume remains something of an enigma. Some, no doubt, are happy for him to remain so. He's clearly -- and rightly -- a controversial figure, but I can see no reason to treat him as a pariah, regardless of the bad business decisions he and his brother may have made or what Gary Gygax felt about him. I hold Gary's memory in high regard. Even so, that doesn't mean I shared his estimation of everything and everyone, particularly when, as is the case with Brian Blume, we don't have the other side of the story.

Maybe I take this history stuff too seriously, but one day I'd really like to talk to Brian Blume.

The Origin of the Druid?

The Druid whispered, "Come. I know the forests. Follow me -- and they'll never find us. You too, Lycon."

Velia's hand was warm in Elak's as they silently trailed Dalan. Like a shadow for all his gross bulk the Druid slipped from tree to tree, taking advantage of every bush and shrub, till at last the noise of pursuit died in the distance. Only then did he pause to wipe the sweat from his ugly face.

"No enemy can find a Druid in the forests," he informed the others. "If necessary, our magic can send the trees marching against those who follow."

--Henry Kuttner, "Thunder in the Dawn" (1938)

I've always wondered about the origins of the druid class in Dungeons & Dragons, which first appeared in Supplement III to OD&D, Eldritch Wizardry. Many people took Gary Gygax at his word when he claimed that the class was based on the Gallic priests described by Caesar in his De Bello Gallico. I know asked him about this a few months before his death and that was the answer he gave me, although, to be fair, he didn't invest his answer with pontifical authority.

What's interesting is that is that Gary shared a co-author credit on Supplement III, with Brian Blume. Blume, along with his brother Kevin and their father Melvin, often play the role of snakes in the Garden in romanticized portrayals of the early history of TSR. It was the Blumes, after all, who sold their controlling shares in the company to Lorraine Williams in 1986 and ushered in what some consider a dark age for TSR.

The ins and outs of TSR's financial history are well known and are discussed better elsewhere. Whatever else Brian Blume was, it's frequently been stated that he was as avid a fan of pulp fantasy as Gygax. Likewise, I have heard the claim that Eldritch Wizardry was the most strongly "swords & sorcery" product sold for OD&D. Taken together and combined with my recent reading of Henry Kuttner's Elak of Atlantis (also available from Paizo's Planet Stories line -- no, I am not being paid to shill for them; I do it willingly), I have to wonder if perhaps the D&D druid owes its origin to the character of Dalan from the quote above. In the short story, he demonstrates numerous magical abilities that are close to those of the character class. Likewise, the druids seem to be a secret order whose hierarchy operates outside the control of civilized society, complete hidden rites and the like.

The resemblance isn't perfect, of course, but it's striking nonetheless. All the more reason to keep reading this stuff and yet another reason to tip my hat at Paizo for making it so readily available.